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SC' ?.'

l^arbarli College l.tlirats

BRIGHT L*EOAOY.

One half the incoDie from this Lencv, which wu
received io 1880 under the wIU of

JONATHAN BROWN BRICHT
nf Waltham, MusBchuaetu, is !□ be cipended for
books Tor the ColJeee Llbrair. The other half of the
iDcome is devoted 10 scholarships in Harvard Uul.
veraity for the henelit of descendanla of
HENRY BRICHT, JR.,
who died atWatertown, MaiBachuaetu, in 1686. In

ellelble 10 Ihe acholan
Ihisr •-■--'

le will R

THEODORE BLISS

PUBLISHER and BOOKSELLER

A Study of Character and Life

in the Middle Period of the

XIX Century

♦^

Edited and arranged for publica-
tion, from dictation, notes, and
remembered conversations, by

Arthur Arnes Bliss

Printed for private circulation

MDCCCCXI

"B t> 6" & a. , 5"

(Aä>ulA^^^

INTRODUCTION

These memoirs were writtcn as a means of entertainment
for a very old man, who during thirty years had been retired by
his infimiities more and niore from the world of active men to
the seclusion of his chamber and life in an invalid's chair. We
had not advanced far, however, into the story of his experiences,
before it dawned lipon me that I was deahng with something
almost akin to a human docnmeiit ; that this firm old Puritan and
Stoic was chronicÜng the life and times of a period relatively
modern, and yet so completely different in its ideals and raethods
from the present that it belonged to past history — to something
ended yet worthy of record. And it appeared to me that the
narrator was.himself a striking type of the finished product of
his times.

Theodore Bliss belonged to a race that was typical of America
from the Puritan Settlements until the Civil War. For genera-
tions the old English stock of New England had been disturbed
so little by inÜuences from without, its commumties had remained
so fixed, its inhabitants had intermarried with their own kin and
kind to such an extent, that, in this unchanging environment, a
specialization had developed which could be called American, or,
in the slang of the day, Yankee. There was nothing just like it
anywhere eise in the world. In physical and moral character-
istics, in methods of thought, in speech, it deserved the recogni-
tion of being a distinct branch of the Enghsh-speaking races.
Following the Civil War, great changes occurred by the influx
of Strange and foreign races, by the desire for wealth, and
increased opportunities for its accjuisition, by a change of reli-
gious faith, whereby old Standards were altered and personal

freedom in Interpretation of theology tolerated and accepted.
In addition to these changes, there had been a numerical weaken-
ing of the old New Englanders, by reason of deaths in the war
and by migration to the great cities and to the West.

There can be no doubt that what remained of the old stock,
in New England itself, bore the marks of a decadence. This
was shown by the large number of unmarried men as well as
unmarried women; by the small number of children born to
married couples; by the rather feeble physique of this offspring
when compared with that of the newer and more vigorous races.
So the Yankee type, or "American" of New England, has been ,
so disturbed that we must wait for many generations beforc
anything so specialized and distinctive will appear again. Wc
have Germans in America, Irish in America, Poles, Bohemians,
Italians, Rumanians, and Syrians in America, but these are still
distinct and segregated, or are only in process of amalgamation,
We cannot predict what final type of man will be evolved. It is
more than likely that, under favorable influences of government,
secular and religious education, and domestic economy, a very
superior race will be developed. but it will differ greatly from the
homogeneous stock of the older settlers.

I feel that Theodore Btiss Stands as an exceptionally good
type of that older stock, and that the story of his life reveals the
social conditions of the people of the "middle class" before the
modern inßuences, I have enumerated, altered the course of social
and race development, and turned the page on some ünished chap-
ters of human life and endeavor in America.

Akthub Aues Bliss.

Philadelphia, April 14, 1911.

CHAPTER I

CHILDHOOD

Birthplace — Parents — Financial disaster at time oE birth — Illness o£
father — Elam Bliss — The houaehold and its members — Daily
life of a New England boy, little play, much work — The New
England " S abbat h."

I was bom on August 23, 1822, in Northampton, Massachu-
setts, in thc house built by ray father, William Bliss, on the
northeastem corner of South and Fruit Streets.

My father was a carpenter and builder, and I have been told
bypersons well acquainted with hini that he was a man of unusual
ambition and energy. I remember almost nothing of his charac-
ter, because a series of very distressing circumstances culminated
in a mental illness that removed him from our home circle, at a
time when I was an Infant. He was a handsome man, with
rather stern face, dark hair and eyes, and short, compact figure,

The tenderest recollections of my early chüdhood Cluster about
the memory of my mother. She was Martha, the oldest daughter
of Timothy Parsons, who belonged to one of the oldest families
of Northampton, being descended from one of its founders far
back in 1650. Timothy Parsons lived in a house on South Street,
built by his father, Noah Parsons. It stood near the roadway,
almost in front of the house now occupied by Mr. Henry J.
Williams, which itself Stands very near the site of my great-
grandfather's large bam. Here the two daughters of Timothy,
my mother, Martha, and her sister Mary, grew to womanhood.
It was a typical New England home of those old times, Although
possessed of ample means, as fortunes were estimated in those
days, the daughters of the house were an important part of its
working force, and took füll share in the domestic affairs of the
household. Like most of their neighbors and friends, they

belonged to a strongly religious Community, where the idea of
responsibility to God and one's fellow man crystallized itself in
a sense of duty, in whicli a very important part of the Service to
God was doing well and faithfuUy what lay at band to be done
in the home. Added to this was the unquestioning faith in the
theology of the Church, as it was theo taught and preached in
New England. True, it was a stern religion, but it was free
from the restlessness of doubt.

My mother was one of the most unselfish, devoted, and excel-
Icnt women I have ever known. She was ot medium height,
slight in figure, with brown hair and fair complexion. Pos-
sessed, "of a gentle. sweet temperament, she was on friendly
relations with all her circle of acqiiaintances. Her sister Mary
married a Mr. Pomeroy, who was, for a time, editor or publisher
of the Hampshire Gasette, an important Nortbampton newspaper
that has continiied even to the present days. Before I was old
enough to know him, Mr. Pomeroy left Nortbampton with my
aunt Mary and moved to Woodstock, Vermont, where he pub-
lished a paper in that town. My atmt had one daughter, who
married a Mr. Dutton, a wholesale merchant of Boston.

About the time of my birth, my fatber had beconie responsible
to bis brotber, Eiam Bliss, an apotbecary of Springfteld, Massa-
chusetts, for an amount of money that was large for.tbose simple
times. Elam BHss having need for this sum, to be used in bis
business, persuaded my fatber to indorse a note covering the loan
he had made, and thus becoming responsible for its payment.
My uncie Elam failed. So the tragedy of my parents' hves was
developed. All tbe estate that my fatber had accumulated i
lost; but, worse tban this, tbe property which my mother had
inherited from her fatber, Timothy Parsons, was swept away at
the same time. This had been a very fair amount of real estate
and money, as viewed in those times; for my grandfather
Parsons had been in quite comfortable financial circumstances.
I have an Impression that he and his father, Noah Parsons, had

owned a very large part of Mount Holyoke, as well as large
tracts of land on Mount Tom. The lumber on both of these
mountains was of considerable value. Then, too, Timothy
Parsons, according to the modest customs of the times, had
lived well. He was always carefully dressed in an old-time
costume, with knee breeches and buckled shoes. Indeed, when
driving about in bis carriage, he presented the appearance of a
stately old gentleman.

By this financial disaster, that occurred almost at ray birth,
my father was left without any means of siipport ; and the effect
of the blow upon him was of such a character that never again
was he able to do anything for the support of his family. At
this time, too, in the midst of his anxiety and distress, he had a
very severe iÜness. Such a combination of causes resulted in the
development of a mental disease from which he never recovered.
In those early days there were few institutions for the treatment
of insanity. For a time my poor fatlier was cared for in his
home, it being necessary even to restrain him by force. The
Situation is a very terrible one to review— my gentle mother fac-
ing poverty, her husband suddenly bereft of his reason, the care
of a young infant, the nursing of a man violently insane, and a
dark outlook for help in the fnture. By the aid of friends, my
father was, at last, removed to Boston and placed in a private
asylum for the mentally deranged. A few years later, when the
State asylum at Worcester was built, he was admitted to that
institution, probably among its first inmates. He was never to
recover his reason, but his life was prolonged until 1855, when he
died at the Worcester asylum, at the age of seventy-eight years.
For many years he was cared for by my brothers. William and
George, and myself. This is all a very painful subject, but is a
part of niy life. I recall a visit that I made to him at Worcester.
The institution stood on a hill, with wide-extended views over a
beautiful country. The grounds about the building were very
extensive. On this occasion I was with the Superintendent. We

found my father in the gardens, half reclining on a bench in the
shade of trees. He started up at our approach, and regarded us
earnestly but suspiciously. I feared to converse with him, lest
some train of thought might excite him or produce ill effects.
When he died, I directed that the funeral should take place at
Northampton, The Services were held at the home of my sister,
Caroline Kingsley. He rests in the beautifui, quiet graveyard of
Northampton, beside his faithfui wife.

I have no knowledge that my uncle Elam ever retumed the
money which was lost by my father's indorsement of his notes,
or that he aided my family in any way. He left Springfield, and
established himself as a bookseller in Boston. Later, he removed
to New York, where he was very successftd in the same business.
He was an exceedingly populär man among his colleagues in the
trade, and was on famiüar terms with William Collen Bryant,
Paulding, and other authors. He was an Episcopalian, an activc
member of Trinity Church, and published many church books.
Indeed, he was somewhat of a theological Student in his reading.
During his career as a publisher in New York, he was on close
terms with the house of Harper Brothers, just then beginning its
successfui history. The Harpers comraenced business as pub-
lishers of books that had been populär in England and Scotland.
Eefore printing these books, they arranged with about four firms
of New York booksellers, among them that of my uncle, Elam
Bliss, to purchase the editions of the books to be printed. It was
not an extensive undertaking, as we reckon things now. Prob-
ably each house took about one thousand copies of a book. My
impression is, that my uncle Elam was a man of energy and
ambition, but that he was hampered by want of capital for his
business undertakings. This may explain why he failed to repay
the loss which my father suffered by the indorsement of those
unfortunate notes. My editor seems to be impressed by the
episode in the üves of these two brothers, in which disaster,
mental anguish, and physicat suffering came upon innocent

people, while the man who caused this tragedy lived hap-
püy on in the sunshine of life, It might be food for philos-
ophers, but, for Jtiyself, I have na uncharitable feeting towards
Elam Bliss. A word inore, and he passes from this history.
His süccess as a publisher in New York came to an end by his
^tlure in business, doubtless because of inadequate capital for
his energetic undertal^ings. Through the influenae of Mr. Wil-
liam Cullen Bryant, who was editor of the New York Evening
Post, he was appointed an appraiser at the United States custom-
house at New York. This post he retained until his death. He
was a bachelor, and lived at the City Hotel, close by Trinity
Church, and there he died.

We were a large family, eleven children, of whom I was the
last. When I came into the world, most of the other children
had grown up and were raarried. I have the pleasantest mem-
ories of all my sisters. Maria, the oldest, was married to
Charles James Allen, of New Haven. Martha married Mr. James
H, Dunham, of Pittsfield, Massachusetts. Caroline's husband
was Mr. Charles P. Kingsley, of Northampton, Massachusetts.
Nancy married Mr. Luther H. Graves, whose business was in
Northampton, but who moved later to Williamstown, Massa-
chusetts, where he died. Laura Hubbard died in infancy.

My oldest brothor was Chester. While learning his business,
or trade, at New Haven, Connecticut, he ran away to New York
and shipped on a vessel sailing to a South American port, I
have Seen a very well-expressed letter from my father about this
cpisode. He was greatly distressed at Chester's act, and, on the
boy's retum from his first voyage, he made a strong effort to
persuade his adventurous son to return to the study of his trade
in New Haven. His efForts faüed. The boy had that longing
for the sea, so common among the young men of New England,
in those days. Chester sailed away again, and his vessel was
never heard from; probably lost in some West Indian storm,

My brother WiUiam learned his trade as bookbinder, in New

Haven, in the publishing house of Durry & Peck. He retumed
to Northanipton and entered the bindery of J. H. Butler, where
he was the chief binder and foreman until his early death, at
the age of thirty-six years.

My third brother. Edward Eli, leamed the trade of a tailor
with our brother-in-law, James Dunham, of Pittsfield. Being
attracted to the West, where many New Englanders were mov-
ing, about the years near 1830, he joined a party of friends and
went to Ohio, where they took land and settled in the vicinity of
what was, later, the dty of Columbus. Like many of the new-
comers to this region, Edward contracted malaria, from which
he suffered for many years. Returning to Northamptoii, he
established himself in business as a tailor, with my brother-in-
law, Luther Graves, as partner. Late in life. Edward purchased
a farm situated about two miles from Worcester, Massachusetts,
where he lived unti! his death. His wife was a most estimable
woman, and there was a large family of children.

George Bliss was my fourth brother. Between his birth and
that of myself, two children were born, named Laura and Henry.
These both died in eariy infancy. Thus, although George was six
years older than myself, he was so much nearer to me in age
than any of my other brothers and sisters, that my relations with
him were closer and more intimate than with the older children.
He was to have a remarkable career, the importance of whicli
was little realized, when wc fished Mill River together or
worked in our small garden. When George was sixteen years of
age, he went to New Haven, Connecticut, and entered the dry
goods Store of Hervey Sanford, where he advanced quickly in
the appreciation of his employer, and. before he was twenty-one
years old, was intrusted with the purchasing of most of the
goods sold by the firm, such purchases being made in New York
and other cities. One morning, in the early days of his employ-
ment in this house, when his duties were those of errand boy
and general helper, Mr. Sanford happened to arrive at his störe

at a very early hour. George was the only clerk present, and
was engaged in sweepUig the floor of the salesroom. Mr. San-
ford expressed some surprise that his new errand boy was at
his post so early, especially as none of the other clerks had
appeared. This surprise was considerably increased when
George informed him that a customer had appeared on the
scene, even thus early, and that, in order that the customer should
not be disappointed, George had taken it on hiraself to act as a
salesman. The goods purchased by the customer had been piled
carefully on a counter and were ready for delivery. A boy wHo
could begin bis work with this unusual manifestation of zeal for
his employer's interests was sure to be appreciated. In time,
George became a very intimate friend of Mr. Sanford's family.
He married his employer's daughter, Catherine. Mr. Sanford
retired from the dry goods trade and devoted his attention to
the affairs of the New Haven County Bank, of which he was
President. His son, William Sanford, and my brother George
succeeded him in the cloth business. The heavy work of man-
agement feil almost entirely on George. Meanwhile, several
urgent solicitations had come to him from merchants of New
York to connect himself with them in business. Finally, he
formed a copartnership with Simeon G. Chittenden, under the
firm name of Chittenden & Bliss, and the new firm began its
business on Wall Street, in New York, a few doors from Broad-
way. The trade of this house became so extended that a large
building was rented, at the corner of Broadway and Rector
Street, where the business was continued for many years. The
firm became large importers of certain ünes of goods from
Europe, and George was obliged to go abroad almost every year
to make purchases. The voyages were made, of course, in sailing
vessels, and he was absent from home for many weeks. By the
year 1850, the importing business had increased so greatly that
my brother took his family to Manchester, England, and resided
in that city for several years. When he returned with his family

to America, so many changes had developed in the managemcnt
of the New York house, owing to the introduction of new men,
not known personally by rny brother, that, on account of this,
combined with other causes, too, he was led to separate from his
partner, Chittenden, and form a new firm, with John J. Phelps
as partner. Mr. Phelps was a wealthy merchant of New York,
the father of William Walter Phelps. The störe was located
in Park Place ; but, later, they purchased the building and
ground of the old Tabemacle Congregational Church, built a
large warehouse and störe on its site, and removed to this new
building in 1857. For several years, Mr. Phelps continued in
the business, but eventually my brother bought out his partner's
interest and continued the business alone, under the firm name of
George Bliss & Company. This house, of real historic note
among the dry goods houses of America, was in my brother's
hands until the year 1868, when he united with Levi P. Morton
to establish the well-known banking house of Morton, Bliss &
Company. Many years after the death of his first wife, George
married Miss Augusta Smith, of New Haven, Connecticut.
Their life together was in every way a happy one. Two childrcn,
a boy and a girl, were born to them. My brother was within a
few months of the age of eighty years when he died. I am told
that his jnfluence for good, in financial affairs of New York, is
still feit; for he was a splendid type of an able and honest
banker.

It will be Seen, from this brief sketch of the members forraing
our family circle, that I was rather alone, in respect to the com-
panionship of children of my own age, in our household. But I
had a hearty welcome to so many pleasant homes, where my
married sisters were the mistresses, that my life was far from
being one of Isolation. Theo, too, there were so many activi-
ties in a New England home, in which the smali boy of the house
was an enforced participant, that there was little time for idic-

ness. There is always time for mischief, and I was not an
example of perfect docility.

Until my mother's death, when I had reached the agc of
eleven years and seven months, my life had been similar to other
boys of those far-off days. The time froni daylight to bedtime
was filled in with doing errands, taking the cow to pasture and
back, milking, piUng wood in cur woodshed that had been
brought in from the woodland. After the garden had been
made and planted, I had the charge of keeping it free from
weeds. We were fortunate in having a pleasant home, in spitc
of the disasters that had lost to us our old one. At the time
of my father's failure, in consideration of her signature to the
deed conveying her property, for which her husband had become
responsible, my mother was given the building that had been
my father's shop. It stood near our old home, at the southeast
comer of South and Fruit Streets. With this there was about
two and a half acres of land. We had, also, about twenty-five
acres of woodland, located about two miles from the town, on
the road to Westhampton. I traveled this road frequently, in
Company with our cow, on journeys to or from home for the
latter's welfare. Added to these possessions, there remained
stiil in our hands a small tract of land in the beautifui North-
ampton meadows, that was a part of my mother's inheritance
from Timothy Parsons. The Workshop of my father was
altered into a dwelling, and this became our home. It had a
large attic; and I remember that the dark corners of this Cham-
ber formed regions füll of interest for me, on days when it
seemed well to be beyond call, or when I was really off duty,
with nothing better to do in the world outside. Here was an
old musket of Revolutionary days. Perhaps its last shot had
been fired at Saratoga, when my grandfather Büss had marched
away with the levies from western Massachusetts, to form a part
of Gates's army against Burgoyne. Here, too, were books on
building and architecture that my father had studied and used

in his trade. The dim shadows revealed outlines of old fuir
and many relics of other days and other lives.

My mother's cousin. Justin Parsons, whose fine, old,
house, built by his father, stood very near to our home,
always most kind and cver willing to assist us in the cultJvatioi
of our land. He did the plowing and planting without i
Charge, except a return for this Service in the help given in 1
own farm work by George and myself. He supplied us with i
horse when one was needed to take com to the mill for grindi
or for any purpose where a horse was required.

1 had the free run of this pleasant house and its homeland«
Its women folk were ever ready to supply the needed cooky <
bit of pie, sweet to the taste and pleasant even in long recc^J
lection. The pantry was a storehouse of good things, and has i
friendly corner in the storehouse of my memory.

Perhaps the hardest work that I, as a small boy, was calledj
upon to do, was to bring water from Mill River on wash days. ll
carried the water in two buckets, by means of a hoop. I walkedl
inside the hoop, holding its rim, and the buckets balanced one.l
another. Thus the weight was distributed. But the bank oM
Mill River was high and steep for the short legs of a small boy,J
and I had to wade out into water sufficiently deep to find al
supply that was clear of sand or mud. True, we had a hogsheadrB
set in the ground, by the door of our kitchen, to catch rain watei
from the roof, but, in the droughts of summer. it happened fre-1
quently that this was exhausted. Then I was mustered intof
Service as water-carrier.

Life was not all work, however. I swam in the pool abov«
the dam, and fished Mill River from the village of Florence to thi
Connecticut. Especially attractive was it to climb in under ÜierM
gristmill, along the race, and fish right at Bhe dam. Eels, bult-J
heads, sunfish, all rose to my hook, and, one day, I caught thefl
king of the river. It happened on a day late in spring, when Xm
was about six years old. Out of the river I pulled a fish abou^l

thc size of a shad. Perhaps it was a stiad. It might just as well
have been a shark, as far as its efFect on my imaginatton. Realiz-
ing that it was unwise to attempt any release from the hook, I
grasped the line and ran home with the dangling monster as fast
as my sniall legs could carry me.

There were gamcs of baseball and football with the sraall
boys of niy neighborhood ; in summer, the search of upland
meadows for berries, and the autumnal delight of ranging the
leaf-strewn woods for nuts.

During the winter, I attended school in a wretched frame
building, with most imperfect sanitary arrangements, standing
opposite the Starkweather house and adjoining the garden of
Bohan Clark. We younger scholars were accommodated in the
lower Story, and the older children had the floor above iis for
their schoolroom. The school months lasted from November to
May, and the hours were from nine o'clock to noon and from
one o'clock to the hour of four in the afternoon. When I was
about nine or ten years old, I went to a private school kept by
a Mr. Gray, One year later, the town buiit a respectable school
.building in the Center of a large lot at the rear of the First
Church. I went to this school, and there widened my circle of
acquaintances, meeting boys from other parts of the town; and
here I attended school until I was twelve years of age. North-
ainpton had not yet developed a high school.

Dllring those early days, our household consisted of mother,
Nancy, William, and myself. No servant was employed. My
mother and Nancy did all the work of the house. However,
when extra sewing was needed, Hester Pomeroy, one of the
professional needlewomen of the town, came to our house and
remained until the work was completed. Hester, or "Erster," as
she was called, like most of these itinerant seamstresses, was a
character. These women were bearers of gossip, in fancy and
fact, throughout the community, and were as difFusive of interest-
ing Information as modern newspapers.

The absence of servants in our home, however, would not
have distinguished us from most of the New England people of
those times. Outside of the large cities, it was the universal
custom for members of a family to take care of themselves. The
most refined and cultured women of our town conductcd their
well-kept homes without servants, or with hircd helpers who
were employed only during the Storni and stress of spring and
autumn house cleaning, or on other special occasions. The serv-
ant problem, as we suffer from it to-day, was unknown.

We always had a cow, with whose care I was particularly
associated, and two pigs. Pigs were, for some reason, a source
of pride with most of the townspeople. There was a certain
ardor and zeal in having the fattest pigs of the neighborhood.
Visitors were urged to gaze upon tliese brutes, that the owner
might enjoy the satisfaction of believing his guest to be chagrined
at the Vision of beauty before his eyes, and the thought that his
own pens failed in such lardaceous development. It was one of
the events of the year, when, in November, a pig was sacrificed
and the meat was salted down and many pounds of sausage
prepared. Thus we had always a barrel of our own good Salt
pork. Another Standard supply for the long winter was a barrel
of Salt beef, and Connecticut River salted shad. We had, of
course, the usual winter vegetabtes — potatoes, tumips, and par-
snips — stored away from our garden, and com was brought home
from our land in the meadows. The com still in husks was
thrown on the fioor of our wagon-hoiise, and on some evening,
late in autumn, we had a "husking," when the neighbors assem-
bled and made the usual social event of Clearing the cobs. These
were stored in bins, and then my part of the work was at band.
By means of a shove!, laid upwards at a slant against some firm
Support, while I sat astride of the handle, it was my pleasant duty
to scrape off the dried kerneis from the cobs by rasping the
latter against the shovel's edge. Then the kerneis were gathered
jnto bags and taken to the gristmill. The meal thus obtained

was used for making "hasty pudding" for ourselves and for
those fat pets outside in the pen. We had fresh meat, at intervals,
supplied by the butcher from bis wagon, as he went from house
to house. Altogether, we lived very well on tbe staple dishes of
tbe New England bousehold. The hard work and constant activ-
ity, the cold, crisp air of winter days, all tended to good appe-
tite; and if good digestion was not in equal proportion, this was
our own fault.

The labors of the week closed on Saturday evening, at sun-
down. At this hour all secular work ceased. It was as sacred
as Sunday itself. Sunday was observed most rigidly, and no
work, except what was unavoidable, was done on that day until
sundown. Then life sHpped its tether, and the sacred ohservances
of the Lord's day were at an end. Men and women could work
and amuse tbemselves. The small boy could play. The older
boy could visit his friends, niore particularly his feminine admira-
tion. This relaxation of religious tension was acceptable, for
the church Services of Sunday were decidedly strenuous. My
niother was a strict attendant at church, when she was able to go
there; for the sad, hard years had sapped her strength, and
towards the latter part of her life she was quite feeble.

Morning Service began at half after ten o'clock, closing about
noon. Then Sunday school opened immediately, in the same
rootn. My class happened to be held in our own fatnily pew.
This Service closed at one o'clock. Then came one half hour
for a hastily taken lunch. Outside the church edifice, the farmers,
from far and near, had fastened their borses to posts on Main
Street, or their wagons were stalled in the horse sheds, near by.
These parishioners from a distance spent the half hour in eating
a sort of picnic lunch brought in their wagons, while we of the
town hurried home to cold viands. It was quick action, for, at
half after one o'clock, we must all be back again in church for the
afternoon Service. This came to an end about three o'clock.
That evening there was a warm supper. a real dinner, in fact.

and hungrj' people to enjoy it. But. in that quiet hoiir before
the evening meal, my mother took me to her room, and I repeated
the catechism to her. Perhaps she had a certain tender anxiety
about me, as I was the yoiingest of her flock; and the thought
must have haunted her mind, that she must leave me soon alone
in the world. It was my habit to throw myself down on her
bed and lie there answeriiig the questtons, while she sat in her
chair clo.se by me.

Our church was a very beautiful specimen of that peculiar
Greek temple design, built of wood, that was common to this
conntry at that period. I doubt if a more beautiful building of
this type existed in Massachusetts. The proportions of its fa^ade
were excellent. and its various orders were consistent in their
pure Greek forms. It had been built about the year 1800, on
ground occupied by an earlier edifice. About six years after its
constrtiction, the Unitarians formed tlieir circle, undcr the encour-
agement of the prominent famÜy of Lyman. About the year
1822, Mr. Coggswell, a partner of the historian, Bancroft, in a.
very celebrated school for boys, in Northampton, organized an
Episcopal church. Little did my brother George or bis family
imagine, as we passed thi.s edifice on Bridge Street, that, years
afterwards, he was to present this Episcopal parish with its
present beautiful church buildings of St. John the Evangelist, on ,
Elm Street. Another raember of our Old Church, as it came in
time to be called, a Mr. Ensign. started a movement that resulted
in the Organization of a Baptist church. This was in 1830.
Another colony went out £rom the old central body to form the >
Second Congregational, or Edwards, Church; for the town
increased in population so greatly that a sister church was needed.
All these religious sodeties, however, were oflshoots from the
andent building on its hül by the Court House. Its destruction
by fire was a sad loss to the community. Through some inex-
cusable carelessness of mechanics at work in repairing the roof,
this beautiful building was set on fire and totally destroyed.

This happened in the year 1876. It could well have served as a
model for a new structure, but the taste of the times demanded
a different style of building. There is nothing distinctive or
individual about the brownstone construction that Stands now on
the cid foundations. The least objectionable feature about it is
the Gothic spire, but the edifice is a poor Substitute for the noble
white front and graceful belf ry of the older building.

The music for the church, in my boyhood, was supplied by a
large volunteer choir, of whioh many of our best people were
members. Once, each week, a rehearsal was held under the
direction of the leader, George Lucas, later, Colonel Barr. There
was no organ, the instrumental accompaniment being rendered
by a small orchestra consisting of a violin, two flutes, a 'cello,
and a bass viol. It was good music, ringing true and pure and
sweet, like the gentler spirit that lay hidden beneath the stem
exterior of New England's religious life. I fancy that, in the
dark years of civil war that were coming, this church music of
New England was to give hope and comfort to many a Yankee
soldier, as he waded through the mire of Virginia roads, as he
toiled in the trenches, as he stood alone on the picket line, as he
lay dying on the field of battle, in prison, or in hospital. Perhaps
something of its spirit was to mingle in the martial music, amid
the rattle of the drums, that was to set the time for the steady
tramp of the New England regiments marching to Southern
fields, where there was to be made that fiery gospel writ in
bumished rows of steel. But, when I was a boy, these dreadful
years of conflict lay hidden far in the future.

CHAPTER II

SCHOOL DAYS
Mother's death — Life in Pittsfield with sister Martha's family — A
typical New England home — Canal boat journey from North-
ampton to New Haven — Life in sister Maria's home in New
Haven — An ideal type of schoolmaster— End of school days
and return to North am p ton.

My mother died in March, 1834. This sad event was to
bring great changes to me. My home life ended theo, and, from
that time, I was to sojourn in different places, according to the
expediency of occaaion. A short tinie before my mother's death,
William had married Maria Cook and had brought his wife to
üur home. Very shortly after mother's death, Nancy married
Luther Graves and went to a home of her own. I seemed
suddeniy to he unattached to anyone or any place, i fancy that
my brother William found it rather a difficult problem to make a
proper disposal of me. At all events, my good sister Martha

E to ihe front, if not to the rescue, and insisted that I should
beconie a member of her family in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, Of
course, this kiiid act was done from a feeling of sympathy for
my loneliness, and also because Martha had no acquaintance
with my brother William's wife. I went to Pittsfield and
reniained there für one year. During this time, Martha gave me
the most devoted care and attention. As I have stated already,
Martha had married James Dunham. During their married life.
thirteen chüdren were born to them, but, when I came to their
home, only the beginnings of this large family were present, in
the small persons of a few very yoimg children.

Martha's househoid included her husband's two apprenticcs
and two journe)-men tailors. To assist her in the care of this
large home she had one servant. Other helpers were hired,

however, when work was especially pressing. Mr. Dunham's
Store was located in the 'business center of Pittsfield. He was a
generous and kindly man, but exceedingly independent and out-
spoken in his ideas. I wonder that a person so fearless in oppos-
ing what he believed to be wrong could have been so successfui
in business, in the confines of a small Community. He was
opposed to the use of tobacco and all forms of stimulants.
Indeed, so streng was his antagonism to smoking, that I doubt
if any of his three sons, themselves men of aggressive inde-
pendence, ever contracted this habit. Most strenuous was he as
an Abolitionist. Already throughout New England the move-
ment against slavery was beginning to manifest itself. True,
as yet, it was confined to a small number of earnest people who
had the combative temperament that has been a rather marked
peculiarity of New Englanders since the migration from the old
country, Mr. Dmiham was a deacon in the Second Congrega-
tional Church of the town, known as the South Church, from
the fact of its location on South Street. My .sister was
much interested in this church, and was most hospitable, espe-
cially to visiting ministers and missionaries. She and her hus-
band both sang in its choir. Perhaps the one hixury that
Mr. Dunham indulged in was the ownership of a fast horse.
He was very fond of horses, and always had a good one, which
he cared for himself. It can be seen that Martha was a very
busy woman, with all the cares of this large household ; but, in
spite of constant occtipation, she was always cheerful. How offen
she must have been weary, even ill, from the exacting dnidgery ;
yet no one in her home saw any signs of the modern ailment,
"nerve exhaustion." It was almost heroic, this meeting the
requirements of each busy day with a cheerful cou rage, and
closing the day's long Service of duties without a sign of petu-
lance or irritahility.

The year of my life in this pleasant home is a most agreeable
memory. On my arrival, I was placed at school in a large, well-

equipped building, just at the rear of Mr. Dunham's house. It
was not long before I made acquaintance with my school com-
panions and joined in their sports; but it must be confessed that
I was a very homesick boy. In spite of my pleasant surround-
ings, this nostalgia lasted throughout the whole year. So acute
was it, in fact, that, seeing a familiär face on the street one day,
I pursued the owner to his home and became a frequent visitor
at his fireside. The man wbo attracted my attention was fully
six years my senior, and was no less a personage than Dr. J. G.
Holland. I had seen hini at Northampton. There he had served
as an apprentice in the office of the Hampshire Ga::ctte, where he
learned something of the printer's trade. He soon changed his
interests, however, and entered the office of Dr. Barrett, of
Northampton. Thus he started upon a medical career, and this
had led him to Pittsfield, where he had become a Student in the
Berkshire Medical College. When the homesick yoimgster from
his old town ventured to call upon liim, Holland received me
most kindly, and my occasional visits to this Student, almost a
man in years, were a source of comfort to me, that, doubtless.
the future well-known aiithor and editor never realized. While
pursuing his medical studies, Holland wrote "Communications,"
each week, to the Spriitgfield Republican. This paper was theo
at the Start of its successfui career. Holland wrote under the
»om de plume of Timothy Titcomb. His articles were charac-
terized by a wholesome spirit of common sense. They were
witty, written in a bright, attractive style, and were most populär.
Later, they were collected and pubüshed in book form, under the
title of "Timothy Titcomb's Letters." Here, at Pittsfield, then,
was the beginning of Hoiland's real career, for he was destined
to be a literary man instead of a practicing physician.

In Martha's pleasant home, I had more time for study and
play than I had ever known before, but I am convinced that I
was a very indifferent scholar. Some reason for this, besides
slowly-developing mental aptitude, may have been the frequent

ohanges in my teachers. I was never in any school for a longer
time than one year.

On my retnrn to Northampton, after this year spent at Pitts-
field, I found my home very much changed. Memories of my
good mother were everywhere, but these served only to emphasize
the changes, Nancy had gone. There was a stränge mistress
in the house; and a stränge boy had made bimse! f at home, it
seemed to me, in the piace tbat really was mine. This was my
nephew, Charles W. Allen, two years my senior. He was the
son of my sister Maria, who had married Mr. Allen, of New
Haven. It seemed to me, that this rather plausible boy made
himself very agreeable to my brother William. To some extent,
I took up again the duties that had been mine in former years,
among these, work in the garden. But, to my somewhat preju-
diced mind, it seemed that Charles Allen received all the credit
for what I had done. In many ways we clashed, sometimes cven
to a rough-and-tumble fight. It was an unhappy time for me,
and I fancy that all the members of our family found that a
rather unbearable Situation was developing. Doubtless the tem-
peraments of my brother William and myself may have been
very siiiiilar, and one recognized the faults of the other without
any desire to exercise charity or patience. Very soon it was
decided that I should take the place of my nephew, Charles
Allen, in the latter's family at New Haven, My sister Maria
was cordial in her willingness to accept the care of me, and the
next year of my life, my thirteenth year, was passed in her home.

I believe that it is safe for me to claim that I am the only
person now living who ever traveled from Northampton to New
Haven as I made that journey, in the September of 1835. It was
as a passenger on a canal boat. Judge Hinckley, of Northamp-
ton, had planned, and very largely financed, the construction of
a canal connecting our town with New Haven. Its promoters
anticipated a brilliant future for this waterway. Of course, we
had regulär lines of stages, and heavy teams of wagons toiled

along the highways transporting merchaiidise. As yet no rail-
roads had been built. Freight and passengers from New York
came by stcamboat to New Haven, and even directly to Hartford.
From and to Hartford, merchandise was transshipped to flat-
bottomed barges that were poled nortliward, against the swjft
current of the Connecticut, to the moiith of Mül River. Along
this stream they were pushed to the foot of Pleasant Street, in
Northampton, where the long, toilsome joiirney ended. At
Windsor Locks and at the natural falls of the Connecticut, where
the important city of Holyoke now Stands, the hartes entered
Short canals. by means of locks, which took them around these
rapids. There was a warehouse for the storage of goods at the
fcx>t of Pleasant Street, and from there, downstream to Hart-
ford, the voyage was an easy one. It was hoped that our
new canal wonld end all this primitive river traffic, and give
a rieh financial profit to the owners. It was a failure, because
it came too late. Soon a railroad down the Valley was con-
structed, and its slower Iransportation was not needed. Its
Chief port in Northampton was on Canal Street, near the pres-
ent Site of the Edwards Church. Thence it went between the
grounds now occupied by the Opera House and the Baptist
Church, and crossed Mill River by a lofty aqueduct. This
was built mainly of wood, and had a footpath, or towing path,
sufficiently wide to accommodate three persona walking abreast.
The outer edge of the aqueduct, however, was not more than
eighteen inches to two feet in width. We used the footpath
as a Short cut from South Street to the business center of
Northampton, or Main Street. More than once, I have crossed
by the narrow outer parapet. A misstep to the canal side would
have been barmless for nie, as I was a skillful swimmer, but, on
the other side, there was a sheer fall of many feet to the gorge of
Mill River. The line of the canal was paralleled, later, by a
railroad that, for this reason, was called the Canal Road. As

one passes c

- it to-day. I am told, there can be seen still, at

intervals, traces of the aiicient vvaterway. My editor teils me
that, in his generation, when, as a boy, he rowed on the Con-
necticut, or with his comrades ranged along its banks, there was
a deserted spot where traces pf masonry could be seen. Between
the broken walls, a shallow streani entered the river. In his
tinie, this forgotten place was calied "the mouth of the old canal."
No one seemed to know its history. Doubtless this was an intake
for the water of our Northanipton-New Haven canal.

It was on a Monday morning, in September, that I boarded
the ordinary cana! boat, named the "Judge Hinckley," com-
manded by Capt. Quartus Clapp. This gallant craft had two
cabins, one at either end. The forward one was a sort of fore-
Castle for the crew, while the after cabin was used by the captain
and any occasional passenger. The canal had been in Operation
only abotit six months, and our vessel was new. It is possible
that I was forwarded by this means of trän spor tat ion on account
of greater safety and economy than that afforded by the stage
route. The crew consisted of two men for general work, and a
boy to drive the two horses. We saiied away from the port of
Northampton at about ten o'clock on that Monday morning. It
was a delightful trip to me, through the beautifui farm lands, in
that fine autunin weather. I spent most of my time afoot on the
towpath, helping to drive the two horses harnessed tandem, or
astride of one of them, for a ride. I ranged through the fine
orchards of apples that lay along our way, getting good fruit
from the trees, or wandered over the fields that bordered our
waterway, Our ship's rations were of the plainest, cooked by
one of the crew. At night our 'horses rested from their labors,
the boat was moored to the canal's bank, and all hands went to
sieep. The passage through the various locks afforded me much
interest and excitement. Our voyage took us through Easthamp-
ton, quiet, old Southampton, the rather important town of West-
field, then to Farmington and Simsbury.

On Sunday afternoon, as the church bells of New Haven

were ringing for Service, we drew to our journey's end, after a
voyage of seven days from Northanipton. I climbed down over
the sides of the boat and, grasping my few belongings, took my
way through the strects of a new town that, to my limited experi-
cnce, seemed to be a great city.

My sister Maria lived in a comfortable honse situated pleas-
antly near the harbor. To one side of it was the large house
and grounds of Mr. Brewster, a carriage builder, and, on the
other side, stood the Tontine Hotel. This was the most impor-
tant hote! of New Haven, at that day, frequented by guests from
all parts of the country.

The change from my country life to the new experiences of a
city, even of the size of New Haven, awoke many new interests
for a boy of about thirteen years of age. At that tinie, the city
had a population of almost ten thousand people. It was half sea
and soiind port. Regiilar steamers came daily from New York,
There was a coastwise trade by saiUng vessels, and, to farther
ports, in the West Indies, South America, as well as a trade
across the Atlantic. By its Long Wharf lay numerous brigs and
full-rigged ships, loading and unloading merchandise that went
to or came from places that were füll of romance and Imagina-
tion for a young boy who wandered about among the casks and
bales. The stränge noises, the life and movement, all the sug-
gestions of the greater world within reach, that are peculiar to
seaports, had a great fascination for me.

During the year of my sojourn at New Haven, I never
wearied of wandering about the water front, bathing in the bay,
and getting such adventures as my limited opportunities com-
manded, There was so much that was new. I recall on one
occasion, eady in my experience, Coming upon boiled lobsters for
sale, and trying to eat one with very poor siiccess. Practice gave
better resuUs at the next attempt. The chances came quite often
to row or sai! or fish in the harbor or bay.

The family into whose midst my canal boat had floated me

was composed of most friendly people. Maria had a caim, tran-
qnil disposition. She did all the work of her home without any
servant. She was not disposed to worry over trifles. She seemed
in perfect accord and contentment with her friends and her home.
My brother-in-law Allen was a pleasant, genial man, and a very
strict Methodist. He was a class leader. My bedroom adjoined
the large chamber where, on Saturday evenings, Mr. Allen's flock
wouid assemble. On these occasions, I could not but overhear
much that transpired during the exercise of examination and
rehearsal of experiences. Then came Mr. Allen's words of
advice, consolation, or discipline, and a few hymns would be
sung. His face and figure, accentuated by his mode of dress,
gave him a very ministerial appearance. In spite of this spintual
aloofness, however, he had two very worldly practices — he loved
a pipe and he loved his fiddle. On summer evenings, the wreaths
of tobacco smoke floated aloft, as he sat by the house door over-
looking his garden, enjoying the pipe and the rest after labor;
and, whenever he had a inoment's leisitre, the clear notes of his
violin rang out in old-time folk song or sacred hymn. He was
thoroughly good and very much of a gentleman.

My brother George had preceded me to New Haven, and it
was through Mr. Allen's friendly help tliat he became associated
with Mr. Sanford. There were two children in the household,
Heman and Hester. The older boy, Charles, was at my old
home in Northampton. A great advantage to nie at New Haven
was the society of my brother George. He was established
already in Mr. Sanford's employ. About the age of nineteen,
he had already made many acquaintances in the town. It was
his habit to take supper with us on Sunday evenings.

The most fortnnate resiilt of my New Haven year was the
school training which I received in the private school of Mr.
Thomas. He was the first teacher who ever interested me in my
studies. He had the happy faculty of Controlling bis boys and
securing their attention most completely. As a disciplinarian, his

tactfulness rendered poIice methods unnecessary. It was com-
mon for him, on Satunlays, to takc the boys who cared to accom-
pany him on expeditions outside of the city, frequently to East
or West Rock. As he was very well versed in geology, his
accounts of the records written in the fields and hüls and river
Valley gave an educational value to these oiitings, that, at the
same time, were very enjoyable. Not in frequently, a gronp of
ten boys tramped along with him on these trips. He was the
only teacher for his school of about twenty-üve pupils. His
boys were from good families and were well-mannered. Our
schoolroom was over a störe at the head of Worcester Street.
The little knowledge that I ever acquired at school was during
this which was to be the last year of my school days. It was,
indeed, most fortunate for me that I had this short experience
of Mr. Thomas's method of Instruction and the influence of his
Personality.

On Sundays, I attended Mr. Allen's chiirch — the Methodist.
It was one of the four churches facing the Square, or Green, the
Others being two Congregational and an Episcopal church. Our
pastor was a scholarly man, named Heman Bangs, a member of
a prominent family of New York. As an indication of time's
changes, I can recall that, in those days, there was only onc
Roman Catholic church in New Haven. The church edifice was
an insignificant frame building, on the outskirts of the town,
having a very small congregation. I remember well, on one occa-
sion, witnessing the Service from the gallery of this building,
and feeling that I was viewing a most dangerous and question-
able rite, in the ritual about the altar. We were still in the days
when people talked about "Babylon" and "Popish Rites" as
being equally dark and wicked, and fraught with danger for the
individual soul and the Constitution at Washington. There was,
at that time, no Roman Catholic church in Massachusetts west
of Worcester.

It was a pleasant year that I spent in New Haven, in the

companionship of my brother George and the agreeable family
life of Maria and Mr. Allen. But it all came to an end, and
with it another change in my rather changeful existence. I was
now fourteen years of age and, unknown to me as yet, my child-
hood had ended and my long business career was just beginning.
My return up the valley to Northampton was by the stage-
coach. We stopped over night at Hartford. This city was
slightly larger than New Haven, at that time, having about one
thousand more people in its population. It was an important
city, having many wholesale houses in all branches of business,
and supplying westem New England with most of its merchan-
dise ; f or the local merchants did not then go to New York, but
purchased at Hartford. My sketoh of the water transportation
will indicate the cause f or this large body of trade, as Hartford
had direct boat communication with New York, and by bärge
and stage and goods wagon with the interior country along the
Connecticut valley, and through the hill country to the west of
this Valley. Our next day's trip took us through Springfield,
and so on to my old home, where Mount Holyoke looks down on
the wide meadows.

CHAPTER III

THE SCHOOL OF BUSINESS LIFE AND WORK
The System of apprenticeship in New England — Entry into business
life — Mr. J. H. Butler and bis störe — Military organizations —
Northampton and its people — Old-time phases of life and char-
acter in coraparison with thosc of modern life.

Immediately after my return to Northampton, I entered the
bookstore of J. H. Butler. The necessary arrangemetits had
been made by my brother William withont any consultation
with me. I was infonned, on my arrival home, ihat this place
was ready for me, and that I was expected to enter in and find
pasturage. Thus commenced my long career in the bookseller's
trade.
1 I suppose that certain documents had been executed by
WiUiam and Mr. Butler, a form of action like an indenture, by
which it was arranged that I should receive my board and lodg-
ing in Mr. Butler's house, that twenty-five dollars should be my
salary for the first year, with an increase of salary by five
dollars every second year, until I should become twenty-one years
old. Thus, on my last year of Service, I would receive forty
dollars. In return, 1 was to serve as junior clerk and perform
such other work as Mr. Butler might require. This was the
common way in which boys commenced their business careers,
in New England, without regard to the social Station of the
families to which they belonged. The same plan was in vogue
in New York. It will be noted that this arrangement was prac-
tical and sumraary. There was an impressive promptness about
it. There were no soothing years of academic-athletic repose,
with sweet summer vacations, during which the youth could
debate whether he would become a doctor, a lawyer, or a thief.

You were then in the hands of your eiders ; and, by a neat

celerity, you made a rapid transition from schoolroom to shop
or Store.

My work was varied. Being the younger of the two Clerks,
I was expected to dcan the störe, carry bundles, either by hand
or in the wheelbarrow, make and keep the fires, clean Windows,
clean the snow from the sidewalks in winter. In short, I did
all the work which, in later years, was to be performed by a
porter. It was expected, too, that I would run on errands for
Mr. Butler's family, but no domestic Service was required. In }
this connection, I recall a long ago afternoon, when I went vvil'
Mr. Butler to gather apples in a field far up King Street,
trundled the loaded barrow home, while Mr. Butler stalked in
majestic dignity behind nie. As we neared home, he remarked,
in a casual sort of way, "Well, Theodore, your legs are getting
pretty well bowed!" No wonder! for they had borne me up
faithfully, with many a heavy load to carry, since early boyhood.
I must believe that they tried to serve me well, but, for twenty-
five years, they have been useless. The last twenty years of my
long life have been lived in an invalid's wheel chair.

I was taken into Mr. Butier's family and became one of the '
household, occupying a little hall bedroom, with window above
the front door of the house. This room I shared with the senior
Clerk, a burly young man named John Frink. Frink's fatber was .
a proprietor of stagecoaches, in partnership with Chcster Chapin
of Spriiigfield. Their lines of stages ran up and down the Con-
necticut Valley from Hartford to Bellows Falls.

Mrs. Butler was a most estimable lady. She was a daughter
of Henry G. Eowers. At the time of my arrival in her home, .
the only child was a small baby. It is stränge that Mrs. Butler
should have appeared to me as being very old, for she must
have been a young woman, scarcely more than eight years my
senior, She took a kind, motherly interest in me, as though I '
had been a relative instead of her husband's Junior clerk. On

Sundays, I went to churth as a member of the faniily, and sat in
I Mr. Butlers pew.

Mr. J. H. Butler was a man of splendid prescnce and fine
manners. For that period of time, and considering the size of
Northanipton, he did an extensive business in the Publishing
and sale of books. Indeed, his house was the most important
establishment in this trade, in Massachusetts, outside of the city
of Boston. Among his publications were several books by John
Todd, which were very populär among church people; also, a
pocket polyglot Bible and corresponding Testament. One of his
most important books was a voiume on the geology of Massa-
chusetts, by Professor Hitchcock of Amherst College. It was a
large quarto voiume, well illustrated. Professor Hitchcock was
the State geologist, and the book was ordered by legislative
enactment, the State sharing some of the expenses of its publi-
cation.

Our Store was the literary center for the cultured people of
the circle of towns near Northampton. We had frequent Visits
from the professors of Amherst, Mount Holyoke, and Williston
Seminary. The two latter institutions were established during
the first years of my Service in the störe. Miss Mary Lyon
would come, almost every week, to consult with Mr. Butler in
regard to books on educational subjects. The students from
these schools, notably from Amherst College, were oiir regulär
customers. At one time, all being in the same College class, I
saw frequently Fred Huntington, afterwards a bishop in the
Episcopal Church : Richard Storrs, later a prominent Congre-
gational minister; and Theodore Clapp, in after life a distin-
guished Unitarian. Perhaps I may have sold them books that
influenced each one to go a way that both the other two would
have considered alinost to perdition. I trust, however, that the
innocent agent of supply cannot be responsible for the intellectual
or Spiritual consequences. Possibly, they have learned by this
time, in the clearer vision that we hope may belong to the life

after death, that each was not wholly in error. Besides supply-
ing books, we were the ageiits for the important English and
American periodicals. We had, too, a large circulating library,
the care of which became one of my special duties. The busi-
ness was in itself most interesting, and the influences in connec-
tion with it all tended to broaden, to educate, and to give a
certain culture, perhaps soniewhat superficial, to the men engaged
in its activities. So the years advanced me on towards manhood,
in the association of books and of people who were readers and
thinkers.

Mr. Butler was a captain of a very fine-looking and well-
uniformed Company of infantry. Our town had, also, an artillery
Company, with two gtins and stunning helmets. The combina-
tion of patent leather, brass, and lofty red plume, that formed the
headgear of its members, would have impressed their foes more
than the discharge of their cannon. The giins were the old
muzzle-loaders of the period, requiring great agility in swabbing
out and ramming down, giving opportunity for much bellowing
of Orders and dramatic movement. These two milüary organi-
zations had occasional reviews and parades. It was customary
for the manual of arms and general drill to be held on Elm
Street, after which there was a parade through the important
streets of the town. About this time, a very unpopulär law had '
been passed by the legislature, requiring that every male Citizen
of Massachusetts between certain ages should do duty in a sort
of loosely-organized miHtia. Failure to do this was punishable
by a smail tax. Thus was formed a nondescript collection of
young men who were not connected with our infantry and
artillery companies. This band had no prescribed uniforms, and,
therefore, on the day of the annual parade. its members appeared
in all sorts of grotesque and absurd costumes, They made a
most fantastic appearance, and the Intention was to make the
muster so ridiculous that the law would be annulled. At the
' Same time, there was a desire to develop al! the amusement that

the occasion of annual review offcred. It was no sinecure to be
the Commander of this corps of "rag-shags." I remember that
one of our most estimable Citizens, a very solemn, mild-m annered,
gentle, and inofFensive man, named Enos Parsons, was by some
means induced to accept the post of commanding officer. Parsons
was elected by the rough Company, as a j'oke, bitt this he did not
realize. His term of office was characterized by absolute dis-
regard for the feelings of the Commander, as well as disobedience
of all his Orders. So unmanageable did his Company become,
that, on one occasion, when disorder had gone beyond even its
usual limit, Parsons was forced to flee from his men and take
1 refuge in a honse on a street through which they were rioting.
Northampton has a most beautiful location on the low hills
that border a wide extent of meadow. The Connecticut winds
through this wonderfully fertile land, forming a great curve on
its course southward. The country rises steadily to the west,
in ränge after ränge of hills, far up to Williamsburg and Chester-
field and the watershed hetween the Hudson and Connecticut
Valleys. From the highest summits one looks westward to Üie
heights of Berkshire. On every side of the wide meadow lands,
the hüls rise in a circUng wall of vast extent: while, across the
meadows, to eastward, the abrupt heights of Mount Holyoke and
the Mount Tom ränge loom up with an appearance of loftiness
in disproportion to their modest altitude of one thousand feet.
The Iowlands and hills are strewn thickly with villages, their
white church spires rising above the verdure of elm trees.
Under its rieh cultivation the meadow looks like a carpet of
intricate pattern, and farms dot the hillsides. It is an old land,
long ago settled by English immigrants, and by the children of
earlier settlers who migrated from eastern to western New Eng-
land in the early colonial period. So it was in my boyhood, and
so its natural scenery remains to the present day.

I believe that Northampton was considered to be one of the
most attractive communities in our State, not alone for its fine

setting, but also on account of a certain refinement and ciilture
found among a very large circle of its inhabitants. Indeed, we
rather feit that, in these respects, we had the same relation to
westem Massachusetts that Boston held to the salt water end of
the State.

The leading lawyers of the town were Isaac C. Bates, after-
wards associated with Daniel Webster in the Senate at Washing-
ton; Charles E. Forbes, founder of the Forbes Library; Charles
A. Dewey, at one time Judge of the Siipreme Court of Massa-
chusetts ; Charles P. Huntington, a brother of Bisbop Huntington,
<Mie of the ablest lawyers of the State; and Lewis Strong, son
of Caieb Strong, the latter, a governor of Massachusetts,

I went to the Court House very often, during term, to hear
Forbes or Bates examine witnesses or address the Jury, There
was a stately formality about the conduct of trials and the func-
tions of the court that is entirely lost, in oitr busy days. During
the sessions of court, lawyers from various towns of Hampshire
County, as well as from the whole State, assembled in North-
ampton. Their headquarters were at Warner's Coffee House, on
Main Street, Thither they marched in a body to dinner, and
from here, headed by the high sheriff of the county, Judge
Lyman, they marched each morning down to the Court House.
Dirmer was an enjoyable affair, presided over by the acting judge,
and rendered famous by the nien of talent present, whose witty
remarks and apt repartee enlivened these occasions. Those old
times belonged to a still older period, when personal presence,
stately manners, and the charm of oratory were much cultivated,
and counted greatly in court house or legislative chamber,

The medical profession was well represented in our town by
Dr, Austin Flint, whose distinguished son and grandson became
physicians of New York City, Dr. Benjamin Barrett, Drs. Daniel
and James Thompson, Dr. Edward E. Deniston, Dr. Hall, Dr,
Sieger, and Dr. David Hunt. The two last named were perhaps
the most individual, as well as among the ablest physicians of

the groiip. Sieger was an eccentric Gennan, who built a large
tomb in bis garden, whether for himself or for the convenience
of bis patients I am unable to report. Hunt, a keen-minded
medical man, was decidedly peculiar in bis manners. It was an
age when tbe use of strong liquors was almost universal. Even
clergymen, in making parochial calls, drank rum, toddy, and
strong eider to a degree that, to put it mildly, showed poor
judgment of the fitness of things. Dr. Hunt was fond of a little
"stiniulant," upoii occasions, and then sbowed the evidence of
over-indulgence. He was cur ablest and most trusted medical
adviser, bowever, and had a large following of loyal patients.
It was bis custom to ride about the country, in the pursuit of
bis calling, on a large, strong horse. More often than not, bis
long, thick hair was his only head-covering. There was some-
thing primeval and militant about the man, a sort of medical
druid and dragoon combined into a priest of nature. On one
occasion he had attended a case of illiiess in the neighboring
village of HadJey. Perhaps it bad been a long, bard, all-night
struggle with death; and tbe doctor had that sense of triumph
and exhüaration that every physician knows will set tbe heart in
a glow, altbough it may be his only reward for hard service.
For the real physician, it suffices to bave won a hard-foitght
contest with disease and death. True, the world does not See his
crown; but he himself feels upon his care-lined brows the pres-
sure of a victor's laurel wreatb, and a voice, unheard by the
world, is musical to bis conscience, with words of praise. I do
not know the circumstances of Hunt's triumphal entry, but, at all
events, on this morning, his strong horse bore bim into town with
a long branch of a free tied to its tail and trailing the road
behind. Hunt, erect in the saddle, bis long hair Streaming in tbe
wind, rode proudly up the center of Main Street. Thus he
appeared, iike a vision of wrath, to Parson Williams, who for
fifty years had gone in and out aniong his people as pastor of
the Old Church. In a moraent, Parson Williams was in the

roadway, facing the scandalous spectacle. With gaunt arms
extended to stop the physician in his glorious progress, he cried,
"Oh, David ! David ! I thought you had sowed your wüd oats !"
"So I have, Parson," came in reply; "now I'm harrowing them
in!" Our other medical men were of the quiet, conventional
type.

From this review of our professional meii it will be seen that
these Citizens, with their families, and with the teachers and
educated laymen of the town, fornied an interesting community.

Most of our business men were dignüied in manner, and
quite as intelligent, to say the least, as any of their class in later
years.

Among the farmers and mechanics there was an unusual
number of readers and thinkers who were able to converse intel-
llgenlly and with force on questions of politics, theology, and the
current events of the day which affected local and national affairs.
They all came to our störe, bought books, and talked entertain-
ingly about their reading.

There was a gener al diffusion of a certain superficial culture,
in a large Community of intelligent, thinking people. Of course,
there was a small inner circle of educated men and women. I
think that the peculiarity of that time, in comparison with later
years, was a certain tone of sincerity and self-respect that was
very marked in our social life. Our simple ideals of living made
it unnecessary to assume an extemal gloss that did not belong
to our everyday existence. The butcher, baker, and candlestick
maker, the physician, minister, teac-her, and lawyer, the tradesman
and Storekeeper, were simply what they were, and not a bit
ashamed of the fact. We were not imitators of foreign ways,
but had developed our own social system by a natural evolution
peculiar to our environment. Standards of life had not been
accepted, as yet, from the fancied social conditions of the Old
World, done into fiction and the drama so that everybody could
read and see. Men of wealth lived with simple dignity. They

would have been laughed out of the county had they made pre-
tense to an Imitation of the life of a nobleman of England or the
continent. One dealt. niore usually than now, directly with the
man himself, not with a mask. As the wonieii in all classes of
Society had few or no servants, they had less time than in later
years to develop a social System of much complexity, which their
weak and admiring husbands must follow, thinking it all very
wonderful, but an awful bore. The women of that day estab-
lished the splendid Standard of American womanhood that is a
tradition now. But so firmly did they impress their influence on
the honie and on their children, that, even to this day, the influ-
ence made by their busy lives and clear, sympathetic minds on
their men and times gives a reputation to modern American
women for qualities that belong really to their grandmothers.

I have indicated the woman's importance in my brief refer-
ences to the homes of my sisters; yet such homes were common
throughout New England. But these people were not common
in the sense that the word would be used to-day. They were
the representatives of a Sterling, self-respecting middle class,
descendants of old English yeomanry. The political boss could
not even develop among these aggressive and self-sufficient men
and women. The style of local government was the town meet-
ing and its resulting election of selectmen, who were the direct
choice of the Citizens. True, the faults and vices of our later
political development were in embryo. Political graft, contractor-
bossisra, the professional politician, and voting bummer were all
potentialities, and, doubtless, in the larger eitles, were beginning
to bloom into what would become the rank and weedy luxuriance
of to-day. Eut, in the country districts and small towns, the
average Citizen was too alert and independent to tolerate any
"Organization" politics.

I must not idealize those times, however, beyond a fair esti-
mate. It was not the "golden age." We rather enjoyed hearing
the Ten Commandments read, and feit the need of their applica-

tion to the lives of our neighbors. As a code of human conduct,
with the thunders of a divine sanction, we esteemed them highly,
but we broke them every day. Doubtless, sinfulness and saintli-
ness in men's lives have kept on a certain general average of
manifestation throughout the ages; but there have been periods
and places in which the sinner has been more at his ease than he
could be in other times and localities. In the New England of
the early nineteenth Century there were very few saints, but
conditions of education, secular and religious, the very tempera-
ment of the common people, tended to discourage the evil doer.
He was not so much in evidence, in high as well as low estate,
as he is to-day. Then, too, human life was valued more highly.
Murder and suicide, so frequent with us, then were committed
rarely. Dishonest ßnance was not regarded with toleration; nor
were its recognized promoters smiled upon and treated as friends
by the representative men of the Community.

CHAPTER IV

mce in business — Holidays in New England — The social life of
young people — Mary Wright — Compietion of apprenticeship
with J. H. Butler.

When John Frink left Mr. Butler's störe I had reached the
age of seventeen, and was advanced to the position of senior
Clerk, My place was filled by a new junior. It was a very
important step npwards in my business life. I had charge of the
bookkeeping and the cash, and was the general factotum of the
estabhs-hnient. As Mr. Butler was away frequently maklng pur-
chases, I had most of the business of the störe on my hands, as
manager. I feil heir, also, to John Frink's office of clerk of the
Torrent Hose Company. The fire defenders of Northampton
were two hose companies, named respectively the Deluge and the
Torrent. Augustus Clark was foreman of the Torrent. On
sumnier evenings, we assembSed on Main Street for practice and
a contest to prove which Company could send the longest stream
of water from its pump, worked by hand.

We had no such flurry of business activity as marks the
Christmas holiday season in these times. In the New England
of that day Christraas was hardly recognized by any one as a
holiday.

New Year's was the day for an exchange of presents, and for
calling on one's friends with the season's greeting.

The next important hoHday came in April, when Fast E>ay
was observed. This day was appointed by the governor of the
State, as it had been in Massachusetts from the times of the
Pilgrims at Plymouth. Services were held in the church on
Fast Day morning, and a sermon was preached. My relatives
and acquaintances were strict observers of the day, and we fasted

literally, having very simple and cold viands on our tables. No
work was done, and the Stores were closed.

Fourth of July had its present day importance. As a boy, I
joined wilh my conirades, and we spent the preceding night in a
bam, often out in the meadows, so as to be up and at it with the
earliest signals of the dawn. On some years there would be a
pubHc meeting, with orations, held on Main Street, before the
Old Church. But the regulär event of the day was a picnic,
either in the wootis on Round Hill, or in some pleasant grove.
This was under the management of the principal ladies of the
town. Tables were arranged for refreshinents, and, alxiut two
o'clock in the aftemoon, the society of Northampton began to
assemble. Among the guests would be many of the towns-
people who had moved away to other homes, young men from
the cities, returhing to Northampton on this occasion to reiiew old
associations. The aftemoon passed delightfully, under the shade
of the woods, in pleasant conversation. In the evening, a ball,
patronized by the best people in the town, was held in a hall on
Round Hill that had belonged to a school, at one time. and was a
part of a hotel opened for summer guests. This was perhaps the
most important social event of the year. It was continued long
after my time into the days of later generations. The music of
the dance floated away on the still, soft air of the summer night.
Young hearts were happy and young eyes were sparkling, and
words of love found an answering fervor. So it was to be
through the years, imtil the grandchüdren of my gay companions
would hear the music and feel the joys of living. For them, as
for US, the moon would fill the night with its beauty, its silver
haze revealing the town below amid its elms, the mystic spaces of
the meadows, and the loom of Mount Holyoke under a purple sky
sparkling with stars.

Another important holiday came in early September, before
the leaves feil, wbile the trees were britliant with their autumn
colors. This was Cattle Show, when people from all parts of

Hampshire County flocked into Northampton. Along Main
Street, from the Old Church down to King Street, in front of the
old Town Hall, and extending up King Street itself, pens for
animals were erected, counters built for the sale of refreshments,
and Spaces Set aside for mild sorts of shows. In the Town Hall
there would be a display of vegetahles and fruit The largest
apples, pumpkins, and other stränge overgrowths, that had served
for the admiration of a farmer's neighborhood, would now be
placed where the world could see and wonder. Besjdes these
natural products, embroideries, fine needlework, and the exhibi-
tion pieces of different tradesmen would be displayed. Prizes
were given for the best farm stock and farm products.

Soon after Cattle Show had had its day came the day for the
general muster of the military of the town and county, which
was held on what we called "Pancake Piain." This was near the
grpunds now occupied by the hospital for the insane. It was a
great.day for the people. Our own local companies then joined
the other units to which they belonged, and which came marching
in from the neighboring towns, and formed up for review. The
eqwipments of the troops were inspected, then came a drill and
some simple military evolutions. About the parade grounds were
tents for refreshments, and crowds of people wandered over the
place al! day long, until towards evening the various companies
marched away, back to their homes. I remember that the com-
manding general in my days was a handsome man and good
rider, named Gen. W. H. Moseley.

Thanksgiving Day came on the last Thursday of November.
Its actual appointment was by the proclamation of the governor ;
but from time immemorial it came on this special Thursday. In
my early life, and long afterwards, the observance of this day

s pectiliar to New England. Until the Civil War, it had never
been recognized beyond the states of Yankeeland. President
Lincoln, in the storm and stress of war time, called urgently on
the people of all the Northern states to observe this solemn occa-

sion, and since tlien it has been a national day of thanksgiving.
[n my time, the day was marked by a moriiiiig service in the
chiirch, at which a sermon or address on a secnlar or political
subject was delivered from the pulpit. The choir sang a pro-
gram that differed from the usnal hymns of Sunday, and was
arranged for the thanksgiving occasion. After the church serv-
ice came as luxurious a dinner as could be provided by each
family of the town, to which tlie exiles from home retumed, the
sons who had established themselves in business in outside towns
or cities, the daughters who had left the parental rooftree for
homes of their own. It was the day for family reunions in the
old homesteads.

The years were bringing me on towards manhood. My con-
tact with many people and residence in Mr. Butler's family
brought me into friendly relations with an increasingly large
circle of acquaintances. I had few opportunities, however, for
the social phases of life, because, like all the clerks of the town,
I was busy from six o'clock in the morning until the bell on the
Old Church rang at nine o'clock in the evening. This was the
Signal for the closure of shop or störe. Until that hour work
continued. A rigid rule in Mr. Butler's house required that his
Clerks should be in bed at ten o'clock. Thus our evening's free-
dorn was limited to one hour. This we clerks passed in friendly
gatherings, usually in the watch and Jewelry störe of Mr. Cook.
There was a general understanding that Mr. Cook would not
object to having his clerks play liost in his establishment. On
summer evenings we stroUed about the streets, visiting the tav-
erns. When, however, I attained the position of senior clerk in
Mr. Butler's störe, I broke his rule of bedtime at ten o'clock.
I am aware that this annoyed him, but he yielded to my rebellious
independence and never said.a word to me on the subject. His
tacit assent to my unexpressed claim for this degree of freedora
is one, among other indications, that my employer was satisfied
with the attention that I gave to his business. And yet, so char-

acteristic of New England reserve, he never gave the slightest
verbal expression of praise or satisfaction; nor did I receive from
Mr. Butler, during my long term of service with him, any pres-
ent or one penny more than the small sums agreed on with my
brother as my salary. We gave and took no praise in those days.
It was a cold-blooded attitude of mind, but as wholesome and
sound in effect as our keen. cold winds of winter. It encouraged
activity. It kept one on the jump. There was no anxiety in our
minds that we might be pleasing any one too much,

I had never had any friendships among girls, but, about this
time of my life, I began to have acquaintances among the young
ladies of the town. I remember that a dancing class was organ-
ized by the young men, so arranged that we shared the necessary
expenses among iis for the salary of a teacher of the art, the
hire of a hall, its proper care, and other matters connected with
the classes. It was incumbent on each member to invite a young
lady to the class meetings, and this invitation was expected to be
for the whole season. I belonged to the class, but I had no
available young lady, so I bethought me of a very attractive girl,
whom I had seen frequently, but to whom I had never had any
formal introduction. She was bright. pretty, rosy-cheeked, with
Curling brown hair and brown eyes. It seemed to me no impro-
priety to go to this young lady's home and invite her to be
my partner for the season. There was certainly no want of
directness about such an application for the privilege of becom-
ing her knight. During all that winter, we danced together and
were good comrades. I refer to this episode as illustrative of
the amazing degree of freedom, in those days, in the social inter-
course between young people. The office of chaperon would
not have been understood; and the reason for this was the
excellent character of the yotmg women themselves. I doubt if
men's Standards of morality vary so greatly among the people of
different times and races. The women have these matters under
their entire control, and they set the Standards of virtue. It was

certainiy a very high Standard in the New England of my young
manhood. ,

When I had about reached the age of nineteen years I became
acquainted with Mary Wright. This girl, with her blue eyes
and fair complexion, had a manner so cordial and frank Üiat
she was a general favorite with the young women as well as
with the young men of our best families. She had attracted
my respectful attention on the street, and on the occasions when
she visited our störe for purchases. It seems very stränge to me,
now, that I cannot recall how or when I became intimate with
her, or began to be one of the visitors at her home. She belonged
to an old family of Northampton. whose residence was in a very
ancient dwelling, the oldest house in the town, on Bridge Street,
Strangely, one of my ancestors, Cornet Joseph Parsons, had built
this house in 1655, about the time of bis marriage to an ancestress
of mine, Mary Bliss of Springfield. My opportunities for culti-
vating any friendship with a young lady were very limited; but.
on Sunday evenings, Mary Wright and her sister Anna received
many visitors. It was a musical evening. Mary sang soprano
and her sister, alto. Anna played the accompaniment on a quaint
old piano, one of the earliest styles of this Instrument, and a
gToup of young men and girls gathered about and sang music
that was very attractive to one, at least, of their hearers. These
were the sweet old sentimental songs of Tom Moore, older
ballads, and melodies long ago forgotten, except as they live in
memory, and in the hearts of the very few men and women now
living who heard them in that far-off youth. It was a great
pleasure to me to listen to this music, but I had no voice for
singing or knowledge of the art, and therefore was not of the
group about the piano. For this reason, perhaps, the scene is
impressed all the more vividly on my recoilection — the ancient,
low-ceiled room, with its simple old-time fumiture; the play of
light and shade from the lamplight on young, fresh faces; the

tnelody of old-fashioned music to the words of that quaint, senti-
mental poetry of a past Century,

Singing classes were held in the Town Hall, and after the
Store was closed at nine o'clock in the evening, I would join tfae
audience in ttie Hall and accompany the Misses Wright back to
their home. My intimacy with Mary Wright continued for sev-
eral months, until a year had passed, and the other yonng nien of
our circle began to recognize the fact that I was rather entitled
to more of Mary's attention than they could hope for. We were
together always on social occasions. Together we drove through
the beautiful land about our home, down by the river, under
Mount Holyoke, through the meadows, along old stage roads
that ran from village to village, each with its wide common and
elm-shaded street. From rocky, narrow roads in the hill country
we looked down on the wide Spaces of the meadow land and
broad sweep of the Connecticut, with the circling hills, frcan
where Mount Tobylifts its flattened summit, near Sunderland, to
the heights above far-off Southampton. My opportunities for
these excursions were of necessity very infrequent, owing to the
requirements of business, but holidays came, as I have described,
at such intervals that we could journey together through the
season of spring blossoms, could view the leafy foliage of sum-
mer and the changing tints of autumn, until the leaves feil and
Winter gave its chances for sleigh rides and skating. This inti-
macy and close association could be understood by us and our
neighbors to indicate one fact alonc, that we were cngaged, and
expected to become man and wife.
I I had now reached the years of manhood. When I was

twenty-one years old my retations with Mr. Butler would cease.
But my old employer was not willing to part from me, as he
had done with his other clerks, when the tenn of apprenticeship
had ended. He urged me to remain with him for eight months
longer, agreeing to give me a salary at the rate of five hundred
dollars per year, I was glad to accept his proposal, as this money

enabied me to pay off all the debts that I had contracted, except
one Obligation of some importance, Mr. Butler obtained an offerj
for my Services, after I should leave htm, from the prominent Pub-
lishing house of Little & Brown of Boston. I had, however, the
offer of another position from his brother, Mr. E. H. Butler, a
publisher and bookseller of Philadelphia. The latter had taken
very recently as his partner a Mr. Williams, who was the son
of Mr. Eliphalet Williams, for nearly fifty years the president
of the old Northampton Bank. His only son had been educated
in Europe. The young man was of striking figure, athletic, ta!I,
a spien did-looking man. He had studied medicine and graduated
as a physician, bat was entirely lacking in any business training.
E. H. Butler, when a young man, had been connected with
the firm of William Marshall & Company, but the head of the
house faiied in business. Soon after this event Mr. Marshall
died, and if the debts of the old firm could be paid off or com-
promised, E. H. Butler would have the opportunity to reorganize
the house and continue its affairs. This he had been successful
in doing, and now, as capital was needed, Mr. Butler was glad
to associate the son of a wealthy banker in his new undertaking.
So young Williams entered the firm as a partner, with money y
supplied by his father, and the publishing house of Butler &
Williams of Philadelphia was started. I concluded to accept the
offer of a position in this Company.

I was now brought face to face with a very painful Situation.
My debts were all paid, with one important exception. I had
absohiteiy no capital or financial backing. The opportunity of a
career was before me, but I must win success by my own efforts
alone. How could I ask Mary to share this uncertain future?
How could I ask her to wait for me throiigh, perbaps, an uncer-
tain length of years, until I was in position to give her a bome?
Her character and personal appearance were such that many
opportunities for a really brilliant marriage might be presented
by men well worthy of her trust and affection. What right had

I to stand in their way by binding her to an agreement which thc
uncertainties of life might never permit to be fulfilled? Con-
sidering these circumstances, I adopted a üne of action that
seemed to me the only honorable one. I told Mary the crisis
that had arisen in our Hves. I told her that we must break off
all association together that could in any way curtail her absolute
freedom of choice in regard to matrimony. Perhaps it was a
cruel thing to do. I could see no other way that was at the
same time just and honorabie.

And so we parted. And so ended the days of my romance
and of my youth. Eefore me, in the years that were coming,
was a man's work to do in the competitions and conflicts of
business life, where he is wise who counts neither on a fair field
nor favor, Yet he should be deemed fortunate who enters the
contest with a conscience so trained by the association of early
years that he can distinguish the just from the unjust act, and
whose fortitude will enable him to shun all paths, however allur-
ing, in which this inner light will refuse to be his guide.

MANHOOD
Journey to Philadelphia — Entrance iiito store of Butler & Wnüams —
The Store and its business — Making "annuals" — Philadelphia in
the years about IS-M — Methods of business — Difficult currency
— Transportation — Law and order in Philadelphia — Volunteer
fire companies — Street fights and rioting— Consolidation of the
various districts into one city.

I went to Philadelphia in April of 1844. The railroad had
been built gradually in sections from Eoston, first to Worcester,
then to Springfield, and finally to New Haven. From there
passengers took a day or night steamer to New York by Long
Island Sound. Lines of stages ran through the thickly-settled
country between New Haven and the metropolis, but the water
route was in every way to be preferred. The development o£
railroads had advanced to a degree of obtaining a speed of
twenty miles an hoiir. This was the Standard speed, and remained '
so for many years after my journey by rail to New Haven.
Delays in travel were frequent, as the railroad lines were built
on a Single track System, with tum-outs and side tracking for
trains to meet and pass in different directions. Water tanks
came at frequent intervals. All these caused much delay, added
to the slow speed of twenty miles an hour. -^

Arriving at' New York by steamboat, I took the route for
Philadelphia, starting from Amboy, reached by boat from New
York. From Amboy the railroad went to Trenton and tlience
to Camden. This was an advance over the older route to Bur-
lington, New Jersey, from which point one had to take a boat on
the Delaware to Philadelphia. The line was extended, at last,
across the Delaware River from Trenton. and then came by the
Pennsylvania bank of the river to Kensington. Here the pas-

sengers were landed in a wretched shed of a Station, and had to
make their way by a long journey, in cabs or omnibuses or
coaches, into the distant center of Philadelphia. The railroad
joumey across New Jersey to Camden required about five hours
for transit.

On my arrival in Philadelphia I reported immediately at the
Store of Butler & Williams, on the northwestem comer of
Merchant and Fourth streets. Mr. Butler recommended nie to
a comfortable house on Spruce Street, where I coidd obtain a
good room and board. This was a pleasant home, kept by a
widow with a family of two SOns and two daughters. Her
father-in*law, a fine old geiitleman, was also a member of the
family. The house was either the second or third one on the
south side of Spruce Street, east of Third Street.

The change from the life of a New England town, where my
family had lived for many generations, to the bustle and activity
of a large, important city in which I was a stranger without
acquaintances, would have affected me more than was the case
had I not been required to enter at once into the work of my
new Position.

Butler & Williams employed a junior clerk, a lad of about
eighteen years of age. They had also a porter for the heavy
work of lifting, packing, and cleaning the störe. As senior clerk
I was, In reality, manager of the störe and its business. I kept
the books of the firm, attended to sales, renewed the stock as
needed. and niade "exchanges" with other book houses of such
stock as we did not need for the goods that were required.
Mr. Butler attended to financing the Company, and Mr. Williams
served as a heautifu! adornment, bis graceful form occupying a
comfortable chair in the countingroom, when its owner did not
need it for his personal uses.

Our Store occupied three stories of the small building on
Merchant Street. On the first floor was the salesroom, where
I held sway. The second floor was used partly for storage and

for the Offices of the Company. On the tiiird floor resided an
interesting character who had a close connection with our busi-
ness. Dr. Reynolds Coates was a genial man of letters, fond of
the good things of life, in the inexpensive and uno Stent atious
ways of the times. One could entertain friends, then, without
ordering a Roman feast in the palatial dining room of a million-
aire's hotel or club. Philadelphia had many restaurants and tav-
ems, whlch the best business men frequented, alone or with
friends, sitting down at a sniall wooden table, with very piain
cloth and napkins. More offen than not the floor was bare,
except for a layer of clean bar sand scattered over it. Amid
these piain surroundings, however, you foiind a very high degree
of the art of cooking applied to the best of materials, in delicious
oysters, terrapin, poultry and game, and, as an accompaniment,
a mug or more of that excellent Philadelphia cream ale, that was
famoiis all over the country. Men arriving in town after long
journeys, before inquiring for anything eise, asked for Philadel-
I^a Cream ale, with a click of thirst in the tones of their voices.
Dr. Reynolds Coates, the resident of our third story, lived pleas-
antly on the local advantages, sometimes more well than wisely.
His rooms were the general meeting place for a number of
literary men of the day, among them Thomas Buchanan Reed,
Henry Hirst, and George H. Boker.

Among Mr. Butler's publications, no cla.ss of books gave him
more personal interest than the issue of "annuals." No one
would look at them to-day. The book reviewers of every news-
paper would hold them up to ridicule and scorn ; bnt, in that
middle period of the nineteenth Century, our "annuals" found an
enthusiastic reception. They appeared in December, and were
intended as gift books for the holiday trade of Christmas and
New Year's. In building up an "annual," the first requirement
was to select a number of attractive pictures, then to find, or
have written, poems, prose sketches, and simply-composed essays
that would suit these illustrations. It was a work of skill, to

attach the text to the picture, so that there would be a good
match and no strained relations. In this work Mr. Butler
delighted, and bis adviser and co-worker was tbat genial literary
man, Dr. Reynolds Coates. In fact, Coates wrote many of the
Sketches, wben nothing available could be found as a reprint or
contribution. Reed, Hirst, and Boker suppüed poems and bits
of prose writing. During the years of my association with
Mr. Butler the annuals increased from one or two, issued yearly,
to six books, all having a very fair degree of popularity, They
were illustrated with steel engravings niade by John Sartain.
The printing was in dear, handsome type on smooth, heavy
paper. One of the chief features of the volumes was the bind-
ing, in which wreaths of flowers and vines and trellises, with
birds and cherubs, were stamped in gilt on a solid ground of
different shadcs of colors. The names of the "annuals" were
"Friendship's Offering," "Leaflets of Memory," "Christian
Keepsake," "Christmas Blossoms," "The Snowflake," and "Bou-
doir Annual." The very names are suggestive of a certain
romance and sentiment, in the current literature of a time differ-
ing so greatly from the present, that it seems to belong to a
remote age and different civilization. These books, the Joint
efforts of Dr. Coates and his coterie of authors and Mr. Butler,
with occasional help frora his partner, Williams, had a very
active sale, but our business depended more upon certain educa-
tional books and a general trade of a miscellaneous character,

It was necessary for me to conduct book exchanges with
othcr houses in the book business. By this means we renewed
our stock without direct expenditure of capital. Another firm
might want the very volumes which we were gtad to remove
from our shelves, while we needed books that the other firm
could not use. Thus exchange was a very important phase oi
our business.

Philadelphia at that timc, in the years about 1844, was a cäl
of about three hundred thousand inhabitants. Its Hmits were.

between the southern side of Vine Street and the northera side
of South Street, and it extended between the Delaware and
Schuylkill rivers. West of the Schuylkill, in that great area of
the city now called West Philadelphia, there was nothing but
open country. I have often crossed the Market Street bridgc
to a quiet, unpaved road, heavily shaded, on the Schuylkill's
west bank. Following this pleasant country lane, past fields and
groves, I would retum to town by the Suspension bridge at
FairmounL West of Broad Street the city was unpaved, and
houses, singly or in groups, stood at intervals, with many open
lots between.

The importance of the city's exports was shown by its
crowded water front on the Delaware. From Vine Street to
South Street the wharves were crowded with ships of every rig.
Delays in unloading were frequent, owing to the number of
vessels, and ships had to lie at anchor in the stream, waiting for
places at the wharves. The great bowsprits stretched out over
the parapet on Delaware Avenue in a long perspective of pic-
turesque angles, and a great variety of figureheads looked down
on the busy shore line from the high prows. Delaware Avenue
presented an animated spectacle, with the transportation of goods
to and from the crowded wharves, and the noise and movement
attending the loading and unloading of ships. Cope Brothers
had a line of packets, with sailings weekly, to Liverpool. There
was a large trade with the West Indies, mostly in the hands of
John and S. and W. Welsh. Robert Eliss, afterwards Bliss &
Dallett, had consignnients to and from the West Indies and
South American ports. As yet no coal was shipped from Phila-
delphia. Indeed, almost none was used. Wood was used very
generally as fuel. The price charged for anthradte coal and
wood was about the same sum, three dollars and fifty cents per
ton. Methods of trade were quite different from those of later
years, With few exceptions, manufacturers consigned their
goods to commission houses. These sold to the Jobber, or

wholesale dealer, and he supplied the retail trade from which
the consumer purchased. Immense amounts of goods were sold
by auction, the chief house for miscellaneous merchandise being
Meyer & Claghorn ; but there were many other auctioneers, con-
fining their sales to special classes of goods.

It wonld be impossible for a business man now to realize
the annoyance and loss that we suffered from the System of
currency then in vogue. It was long before the "greenback"
and national banks had been instituted. We depended upon
so-called State banks and private banks. Any individual or group
of individuals could organize such banks, and there was no
govemment inspection. The notes of such banks were badly
printed on poor paper, and counterfeiting was so common that a
note had to be most carefully scnitinized. Even with the great-
est care the counterfeits were passed again and again and con-
tinued in circulation. Unless a bank was noted for its stabiUty,
and was careful to keep its notes at par value, they suffered a
large depreciation when presented at points remote from the
bank of issue. A thousand dollars in currency might vary from
one half to ten per cent. in the loss by discount. Bankers would
accept only bankable funds. It was necessary, on receipt of these
notes from customers, scattered all over the country, that they
should be taken to a broker and sold for what value he would
put on them ; then the deposit in bank could be made. The bank-
ing house of Drexel & Company began its business in the nego-
tiation of these notes. There were a few banks, in good credit
with our city banks, whose notes were kept at par. These were
rare institutions. The banks of some states had a worse repu-
tation than those of others. Indiana was especially weak in the
credit of its State and private banks. Kentucky was in almost
as low esteem. In fact, all the Southern states were regarded
with distrust in this connection. There was no general Clearing
house, and no express Company for the transportation and col-
lection of notes. When Adams' or Harnden's express companies

were started in Boston, in a very small way, they undertook this
business, conveying the notes in sealed packages for collection.

Transportation was then in its infancy. Between the ciües,
by means of great goods wagons, merchandise was carried along
the pike roads frora city to city. Great lumbering Conestoga
wagons, drawn by four or six horses, toiled westward from
Philadelphia on the long, tedious journey across the State and
over the Alleghanies to Pittsburgh. To Southern cities the
exports went mostly by vessels, going to various ports. Frc-
quently goods were shipped thus to New Orleans, then reshipped
to Mississippi steamers, which took them to St. Louis and interior
towns. Again, they might be transshipped to smaller steamers
for ascent of the Ohio to Cincinnati or Pittsburgh. Merchants
from the South and West spent many months in Philadelphia
naaking annual purchases. They were well aware that the goods
thus bought would be months in transit before reaching the dis-
tant homes of the purchasers. Meanwhile, the visiting merchants
ohtained what amusement they could out of the sojourn in our
town, It was incumbent on their friends living here to see that
the time was not too dull in passing ; otherwise, the trader might
go to New York or Baltimore, where entertainment, if not prices,
would be more to his satisfaction.

Later on, the railroads began their wonderful development.
But, even then. Market Street was unpleasantly blocked with long
trains of freight cars, drawn through the street by strings of
mules to the freight Station at Thirteenth Street or the pas-
senger Station at Eleventh Street. Before this time, however,
Market Street, from Second Street to Eleventh, was narrowed
greatly by the series of market houses which occupied the center
of the Street through this important business district.

Transportation by means of canals never attained its füll
development, although by this method of transport we did send
goods up into interior towns of Pennsylvania and across New
Jersey.

Transit for local passengers through our streets was carried
on by means o£ heavy omnibuses and coaches, that rattled over
the cobblestones in a slow and painhü progress. After my Com-
ing many years elapsed before the introduction of tracks and
Street cars.

There was no postal delivery. A private enterprise, known
as Blood's Penny Post, carried on a local business, which, of
course, ended when the Post Office undertook this Service. At
the time of my arrival the Post Office was located in the
Exchange Building, at Third and Dock streets.

Firms engaged in wholesale business were found east of
Seventh Street on Market Street, and east of Third Street on
Chestnut. Many such were found, also, on Front Street, Water
Street, and Delaware Avenue.

Second Street was the great Shopping thoroughfare for all
retail business, extending as far north as Vine Street.

Where, to-day, a nondescript collection of Jews, Italians,
Greeks, and immigrants from southeastern Europe crowd the
overfilled dwellings, amid inferior boarding and lodging houses,
business offices, and miscellaneous small Stores, the socially elect
of Philadelphia had their horaes. Third and Fourth streets,
between Walnut and Pine, were important streets for residence.
This was true also of Walnut, Spruce, and Pine streets, east of
Eighth Street. Already, the course of this society element was
tending westward into new homes that were bcing erected on all
these streets, towards the regions that, years later, would center
about Rittenhouse Square.

Outside of the old city ümits lay a nnmber of independent
communities that !iad grown to such an extent as to border upon
one another and the city itself in masses of closely-built streets.
To the north !ay the districts of Spring Garden, Penn Township,
Northern Liberties, Francis vi He, Kensington, Richmond, and
Frankford, with the more distant communities of Germantown
and Chestnut Hill. South of the city's southern timit lay South-
wark, Moyamensing, and Passayunk.

I
I

Although Philadelphia had a well-organized and efficiently-
executed government, tlie size, nearness, and local prejudices of .
these surroiinding districts, each with its own government, ren-
dered outbreaks of disorder not infrequent. The companies of
volunteer firemen, of the city itself and of these separate locali-
ties, maintained a spirit of rivalry and ill will towards one
another that tended to disturb the peace of the various commii-
nities. In the neighborhood of every fire company's headquarters
populär feeling, among the rougher element of the Citizens, sup-
ported the ambition of the local firemen to be cocks of the walk,
in fighting their fellow men as well as the fiery element itself,
This rivalry continued for many years, even after the consolida-
tion of the various districts with the city of Philadelphia. The
small boys all over the town assumed a self-appointed member-
ship, at least in enthusiasm, in the different companies. A little
tough of nine years or more would attack another little ruffian
of corresponding age, because the former beloiiged to the "Good
Will" and the latter to "Spring Garden." Gangs of these youth-
ful savages organized "stone fights" against their enemies of
another fire persuasion, and made life miserable for the Citizens
in the area of the scene of battle. Almost every fire call was a
Signal for a race to the buming house, between rival companies,
and a free fight on the way, or on the retum to quarters. It is
impossible to realize now how much discomfort and damage was
caused to the Citizens by these volunteer fire fighters. Indeed, it
has been stated by persona whose sources of Information appeared
to be reliable, that many buildings were set on fire by memberg
of these companies, or their friends, for the sake of a little
diversion, when times proved to be dull, or for more sinister
motives. All this ended when the firemen were organized as a
part of the city government, on the same Status as the police
force.

I had been a Citizen of Philadelphia for a few months only,
when a serious outbreak against the Roman Catholics caused a

great loss to several parishes of this church. It was believed,
at the time, that members of many of the volunteer fire compa-
nies, together with the "Know- Nothing" Party, organized thesc
attacks. I remember going with an acquaintance through the
streets, crowded with excited and disorderly people, to see the
burning of St. Augustine's Roman Catholic Church, on Fourth
Street above Race. In order to protect St. Mary's, on Fourth
Street below Walniit, and St. Joseph's, in Wilüngs Alley, the
authorities closed Fourth Street by ropes and barricades, between
Walnut and Spmce streets, allowing only residents of this Square
to pass through the lines. I found that Penn's "green country
town" was far from being entirely under the influence of the
peaceful Society of Friends.

My close appiication to business developed many acquaint-
ances among the members of the Publishing and bookselling
trade, but I did not make many social friendships. One reason
for my avoidance of society was the memory of a sweet girl in
far Northampton. She was always in my thoughts, although no
letters passed between us, and, on the few occasions when I
visited my old home, we never met. Before returning to Phila-
delphia, on those infrequent and brief visits to Northampton, I
never failed to walk out Bridge Street and see the cozy little old
house, shaded with elms, where Mary lived. It was a very
wretched, heartsick man that, each timCi turned away and took
the long journey back to Philadelphia, I had wÜled to break
away from her life. The thought has come to me, in later
years, that I may have been wrong; that perhaps, believing that
my action was designed for her interest alone, there may have
been some subtle element of selfishness, a fear of incumbrance,
a hesitation at assuming responsibilities. It is possible, that
women sometimes may not desire a freedom so 6rmly offered
that it might appear like an Ultimatum. A gentler nature than
mine might have seen the Situation in a very different light.

My evenings, when not spent alone in my room, were apt to be

passed at one of the theatres. The Walnut Street Theatre in
those days had an excellent stock Company. There I saw Forrest
and the eider Booth. The stage was well represented, also, at
the Arch Street Theatre, by a Company managed by John Drew,
and in which his talented wife took an active part. Occasionally
I went off for an aftemoon outing with some acquaintances.
We rowed up the SchuylkiU to the Falls Village, and had an
excellent supper, at a waterside inn, on catfish, waffles, and
coffce. These trips were varied by excursions up or down the
Delaware, or to Germantown and Chestnut Hill.

CHAPTER VI

DEVELOPMENT OF A BUSINESS CAREER
Leaves the finn of Butler & Williams lo establish an independent
business — Joins E. H. Butler as a partner^An example of sale
methods of the tirae— Success in business — Marriage — ^Estab-
lishment of a home in Philadelphia — Separates from E. H,
Butler and establishes a tiew firm, with an acquatntance as
partner — Strange experience in ihis connection — Business
methods of the day and a description of the book trade —
Trade sales.

I had been in Mr. E. H. Butlers störe during two years of
very active work, when his partner, Mr. Williams, died suddenly
from a violent fever. After this event, my employer decided to
confine his business to the sale of his own publications. This
presented an opportunity to me that I had been considering for
several months. I told Mr. Butler that, by this change in his
business, he could well do without my Services ; that, in fact, there
would be little for me to do, and that I proposed to organize a
Store for myself. With his consent, I wouid take certain cus-
tomers of his, whose business required that they should purchase
from a general wholesaler. I told him that I had found a room
already in which to begin my venture, This was in the second
Story of a buüding on the south side of Market Street, below
Sixth Street. Mr. Butler assented immediately to my proposal
in regard to his customers. I engaged the oldest son of my
landlady, James Thackara, as clerk, laid in my stock, sent out
circulars and solicitations for orders to o!d customers of Butler &
Williams in Baltimore, Washington, Richmond, and through
Pennsylvania, and also to schools. In a very short time I began
to develop a very promising trade.

Four months had elapsed since this rather hustling beginning

of an independent career, when Mr. E. H. Butler walked into my
Store and said, "Bliss, I want you to g'ive up this business and
come back with me. I offer you a partnership with me on the
same terms as given to Mr. Williams. Your interest in the
business will be one third. You will need ten thousand doÜars'
capita!, which you can borrow easily from your brother, George
Bliss." I saw at once that it would be well to comply with his
request. Indeed, I knew exactly the position in which he had
been placed. When Mr. Butler reduced his trade to the sale of
his own publications, he was limited to certain books, mostly of
an educational character. Among these his most valuable book
was a series of Smith's "Grammars." The publication of these
books he shared with a certain E. Trueman of Cincinnati.
There were duplicate sets of stereotype plates, each publisher
owning his own set. Between Mr. Butler and Trueman there
was a tacit agreement, but in no way legally binding, that
Mr. Butler would confine his sales to the Eastern cities and
towns, while Mr. Trueman would not cross the Alleghanies,
selling to the West only. This plan had worked very nicely
until the death of Mr. Trueman. His widow placed the business

in the hands of a Mr. S , afterwards the librarian of

Congress. Suddenly, to Mr. Butler's consternation, S

began to flood the Eastern market with the grammars of Smith
that should have restrained their zeal to the service of Westem
intellects alone. In fact, I had purchased some of this very
edition.

Thinking over the matter quickly, I decided that I could not
close out contracts and dispose of my stock earlier than the
Coming January, but I told Mr. Butler that I could relieve him
of his stock of Smith's grammars by exchange, and renew his
general stock in the same way. The books could be stored in
the second floor of his building, and, when we opened business
together, we would have a fresh supply of books on hand and be
rid of useless material. S was in town prepared to

deluge the East with Smith's grammars. I proposed to Mr.j
Butler that I should flank him at once, by a meaiis that appearei
favorable to us both. That very night I went to New Yorki

crossin'T on the ferry to Camden with S in the Same boat "

I knew his habits. In spite of his young Lochinvar appearance
of dash out of the West, he was a rather easy-going business
man, fond of browsing among quaint and ancient volumes of
forgotten lore, and thereby losing time. He could tangle himself
up in a second-hand bookstore for many hours. Very early in
the morniiig, on the day foüowing our arrival in New York,

while S doubtless was thinking about breakfast, I was

already visiting the booksellers of that city. These gentlemen
ordered liberally for Smith's grammars, as well as for other
books, giving me what I selected in exchange, and I told my
purchasers that, if more "Smith" was needed, to purchase the
grammars from me. I have never known exactly what experi-

ence Mr. S had in New York, in his efforts to dispose

of his Western growth of Smith's grammar, buf I am sure that
he must have labored in arid soil. Having thoroughly forestalied

Mr. S in New York, I hastened onward to New Haven

and saw the trade there; thence, to Boston, where I made very _
satisfactory exchanges. ■

This flyjng campaign was made, of course, without any ^
declaration of the intended partnership hetween Mr. E, H, Butler
and myself, Thus, when January came, we had a very satis-
factory stock of new books with which to open oiir business.
Meanwhile. I ceased biiying for myself, and aimed to dispose of
all my stock of books. I had leased my room for one year only,
and, as the year had almost expired, I moved the very small
remainder of my stock to E, H. Butler's störe. My venture alotie
in the field of the book trade had been, financially, a very suc-
cessful year, as things were counted in those modest days. I
netted seventeen hundred dollars' profit, free of all expenses.

When the articles of copartnership between Mr. E. H. ButlW'J

and nie were ready for our signatures, I found that the one-
third interest that had been promised to me was reduced to one
fourth. This arbitrary change seemed to me unfair, but I deemed
it best to sign the agreement. Otherwise the terms stood as I
had expected. The agreement was to last for three years. Our
first year together was very satisfactory, and the financial results
so encouraging that the future to me seemed assured.

It was the autumn of the year 1847. Three years had passed
since I had seen Mary Wright. I had never written to her, and
she had been too independent and high-spirited to send me any
communication. It was now, when my affairs seemed well estab-
lished, that I went to Northampton, not to take my customary
lonely walk out Bridge Street, and leave the town sad and heavy-
hearted, but to stop at the pleasant little old house, ander die
great elm, and teil Mary Wright the story of my long silence
and the years of waiting. I had no reason to believe that her
heart might be free, or that she had retained even a feeling of
interest for me: It was the time of the year when, in the happy
past, we had driven over the Valley roads and across the uplands,
in the cool air of New Englands autumn. Again the landscape
was ablaze with the changing colors that precede the bleakness
of Winter. Yet this autumn was to be a renewal of life, a
Springtime of the soul, even among the falling leaves.

Our wedding took place on the seventh of February, 1848.
It was an important social event for our town and circle of
acquaintances. There can be no doubt that this climax of cur
friendship had been hoped for by these good people, and that in
their opinion ihc course of love had been unduly and unreasonably
broken. I can believe that my conduct had been regarded with
severe disapproval, and certainly had been misunderstood. It
was a large and happy Company that gathered in the quaint
low-ceiled rooms of the old house. Mary's friends had decorated
the interior very tastefuUy. My old employer, Mr. J, H. Butter,
and Mr. Henshaw Bates, son of the Senator, acted as masters

of ceremony. The hour was eleven o'clock in the morning.
The minister was Rev. E, S, Swift of the Old Church. After-
wards there were simple refreshments, wine and cake, in the
piain custom of those days. How long ago it all seems to me,
as the scenes develop themselves in my memory! And how
long ago it is in reality ! Sixty-one years have passed away
since then. Of all the gay Company, scarcely pne remains in
this life.

About one o'clock on that happy day, Mary and I left North-
ampton, accompanied by my brother George and his wife, who
had come for the occasion from New York. Greatly to our
surprise, we found a special car at the Station, arranged for by
our good friends, in which a laughing, j'olly party of them went
with US as far as Springfield. Here they left us, with every
expression of good wishes for our welfare and happiness. Our
wedding joumey was the long trip to Philadelphia. I had no
time for a prolonged absence from my business.

The first home that was ours in this city was in a pleasant
house on the south side of Chestnut Street, above Twelfth.
This was in a good residence neighborhood ; still, quite distant
from the business center. Here I rented some very comfortable
rooms on the third story. The house was owned by a Mrs.
Hanson, a lady of considcrable wealth. Her housekeeper, Mrs.
Lefferts, had charge of the domestic affairs. Besides ourselves
there were two other guests. As Mary had few acquaintances
in Philadelphia, it was fortunate that Mrs. Hanson became so
attached to her, that Mary and she were very much together on
drives and Shopping expeditions.

But, by the next winter, I found that the new firm of E. H,
Butler & Company had not been so successful as I had antici-
pated. Our rooms had been rather costly. In those days, Arch
and Race streets were quiet, respectable thoroughfares, where
dwelt a very substantial class of Citizens. It is hard to realize
now, that Race Street, between Tenth and Eleventh streets, could

have been a neighborhood peopled by the best class of inhabitants ;
where clean-swept fronts shone resplendent in white-marble Steps
and white or green shutters : where well-kept yards extended
back through the deep lots to Cherry Street, with plots of grass
and borders of flower beds. Here in a block of houses, called
Montgomery Square, I found most conifortable rooms, in a
boarding house kept by a lady from Connecticut, a Mrs. Brown.
The house was well filled with pleasant people. Mrs, Brown
was a splendid housekeeper, an excellent, motherly woman. Her
interest in us and kindness were most delightful, especially as our
first child, Anna, was bom in this new home.

Not long after this I rented a house on Vine Street, and later
purchased one on Vine Street, near Eighteenth Street, close by
Logan Square, in which we lived for many years. Early in our
wedded life, Mary's sister, Anna Wright, becanie a member o£
our household. She had enjoyed a most interesting experience
as govemess in some Southern families, and knew much of the
life passed on those great, remote plantations in Alabama and,
amid more comfort, in Virginia. In this home of our own, on
quiet old Vine Street, near the green open space of Logan
Square, we passed many peaceful years, and here all our other
children — Theodore, Caroline, and Edgar^ — were born, with the
exception of a little daughter, Mattie, who died in early infancy,
and Arthur, who chanced to have Northampton as his birthplace.

E. H. Butler and myself continued iiTbusiness together during
the three years of our contract. During the last year, however,
I noted that conditions were developing that did not promise so
favorable results as the first years had indicated. It seemed best
to both of US that we should separate. This we did most ami-
cably, and we remained on friendly relations until Mr. E. H.
Butler's death.

The experience that was to be mine, in the new business
relations I was about to form, was a peculiar one ; so unusual, in
fact, that I feel justified in giving some reference to it in detail.

There was a very agreeable and genial gentleman in the business
of bookselling and Publishing with whom I had become so inti-
mately acquainted, in a business way, that I believed my estimate
of bis character was as correct as it was favorable. He was a
New Englander, a graduate of Yale College, and bad deveioped
a business in lines somewhat different from those of E. H.
Butler 's house. Mr. X. wished to find a partner, and we agreed
to form such a copartnership on certain very simple terms. I
accepted bis Statement in regard to his capital, and it was
arranged that the capital which I would place should equal that
which he stated to be bis own. The term of our copartnership
was to be for three years, beginning January 1, 1850.

The necessary legal papers were prepared by Mr. X.'s lawyer,
and copies given to Mr. X. and myself. Our signatures, bow-
ever, had not yet been set to these papers, when I was called to
New York to attend the spring trade sale. In the midst of the
activities of this busy and important meeting I received a letter
from my wife, suggesting that I had better retuni to Philadelphia
as soon as possible. This was such an unusual sort of epistle for
Mary to write, that I acted on tlie Suggestion immediately. On
my return, to my entire surprise, I found that Mr. X. was show-
ing the effects of drinking, and then learned, for the first time.
that, for years, he had been a victim of this habit and indulged
to a great excess. I found, too, that his störe had been misman-
aged, that he had contracted many debts, and that, as a result,
the actual free capital, to which I was to add an equal amount,
was far below the stated figures. I was in a trying position.
Our papers of copartnership were not signed, but my word was
given in assent.

Mr. X. was anxious to form the new firm. My wife and I
knew his excellent wife intimately. Under these circumstances
we feit the deepest sympathy for her. Their family was a large
one, consisting of eight children. Then, too, I bad been deceived
as to Mr. X.'s personal character and the actual amount of his

capital, but I knew very well that the trade of this störe was
large, extending throughout Pennsylvania and all the adjoining
States ; that, under efücient management, this trade could be
maintained and greatly extended. I detcrmined my course
promptly.

Going to Mr. X.'s lawyer, I explained the Situation that was
presented, and my desire to have new articles of copartnership
prepared. In these the term of copartnership was to be limited
to one year, from January Ist now passed, or as long as mwtually
agreeabie. We were to have equal rights and restrictions in the
care of otir afFairs, and a careful limit placed on the amoiints of
onr withdrawals of fnnds for personal expenses. Finally. all
notes or checks must be drawn and signed by myself. This deter-
mination of mine was unlooked for by Mr. X., but, on delivering
to him the new documents of copartnership, I told him plainly
that no other articles would be signed by me.

I had talked very candidly to Mr. X. about bis weakness, and
had fully satisfied myself that any reform in his habits was very
unlikely. Half of our first year together had now elapsed. Some-
time in the fall of this same year, a most intimate friend of Mr. X.
called on me, and expressed the wish that I wotdd extend to my
partner all the forbearance and friendly consideration in my
power, for his own sake and that of his wife and children. I
replled that I had been acting thus for several months, but,
having no confidence in his power to reforra his habits of
excessive drinking, I fully expected that the close of the year
would bring about our Separation in business, This good friend
of Mr. X. then informed me, further, that there were reasons
to believe that Mr. X. would develop a lasting reformation, as
he realized as never before the peril of the Situation for himself
and his family, and that in his feelinp;s there was a deep religious
influence and earnestness. I replicd that I had no confidence
at all in any improvemcnt; that I had watched him closely. and
Icarned that he had no self-control in the face of this wretched

habit. This was my iixed opinion, and yet a stränge thing hap-
pened.

The partnership between Mr. X. and myself was to continue
for more than twelve years, without any failure on his part to
control his weakness. During these years we were successful.
I can Claim, justly, that most of this success resulted from my
good business training and methods; that the weight of respon-
sibility feil to my share ; that I was a rather stern comrade for
my partner; but he held fast to his determination. Then, too,
his genial and social qualities made him a general favorite. His
ability to make friends was a real advantage for our affairs.

We think of business to-day in terms of very large figures
and great proportions. We speak glibly of corporations and
companies and individuals whose capital rates at millions of dol-
lars ; whose activities cover vast Spaces in the home and forejgn
markets. Business is the resuHant of raany forces working
together in complicated p!an, and yet with an order that suggests
the harmony of a great orchestra. It is already difficult to
realize, that, sixty years ago, great numbers of private individuals
in every city conducted small, independent, and separate enter-
prises, in which a capital of one or two hundred thousand dollars
represented very large undertakings, But all over Philadelphia,
and in other cities to a less degree, were scattered small shops
and Stores in varying degrees of importance, even down to the
modest little stores kept by widows or maiden ladies, whose
ambitions centered in the sale of trimmings, stationery, or other
small articies. It was rather characteristic of Philadelphia, at
the time of my arrival there and for many years later, that such
small shops gave employment to thousands of peopie. residing
often in the same buildings in which they conducted their busi-
ness, and obtaining a fair competency.

In the bookseller's and publisher's business, perhaps more than
in any other, there existed a certain friendly bond of interests
among the men engaged in the trade, a certain freemasonry

that was common throughout the country. This guüd spirit was
encouraged very largely by the old custom of trade sales. The
trade sale is a forgotten Institution to-day, but, in the period
before the Civil War, it brought together booksellers from all
parts of the country to raeetings in which a certain social element
was very manifest, in the midst of the activities of the market
place. Two important meetings of this character were held annu-
ally, one in the early spring, and, the second, in October. The
New York trade sales came first in order, and those of Phila-
delphia followed. Such sales were held also in Boston. The
period of a sale covered about two weeks. In New York, they
were conducted by Banks, Richards & Company, Books were
consigned to this firm from many publishers, in various parts of
the country. Bids were offered for the books presented in this
form of auction, and, when the bid was accepted, the figure at
which such a book was sold became, for that sale, at least, its
Standard price. Any purchaser could order as many more copies
of this special book as he might desire.

The sales were conducted in a roomy hati furnished with
benches for the accommodation of the attending booksellers.
Beginning at nine o'clock in the morning, the sales continued
until noon, when we all partook of a lunch furnished by the finn
of auctioneers. This ample and very well prepared lunch we ate
Standing or moving about to converse with acquaintances. Smok-
ing was allowable, and the affair was so informal that oppor-
tunity was given for much jesting and amusement. At one
o'clock the sale was resumed until six o'clock, when, as guests of
the firm, we partook of supper. At seven o'clock the bidding
was reopened, and did not close until nine or ten o'clock in the
evening. All books sent to the auctioneers were catalogued, so
that the stock of invoices could be consulted, and one could map
out the special line oi purchases he might care to consider. Of
course, the purchaser could dupHcate as many copies as he wished
at the price accepted for the invoice. Meetings of this char-

acter, occurring in several cities twice each year, and lasting for
two weeks, brought the members of the book trade into very
pleasant and even intimate relations. Personally, I never con-
sidered that it was advantageous to consign invoices for sale in
this way, but I purchased f reely, obtaining very satisfactory rates
for excellent stock. Many pleasant memories group themselves
about these great meetings of my trade. The strictly business
side of them was füll of interest and some excitement, while, as a
social occasion, they were most enjoyable.

The bookseller of those days, beyond the limits of his own
special publications, very largely renewed his general stock by
the purchases made at those great sales, and by the System of
exchange, the trading of books of which he had an oversupply
for others which he lacked. Such methods of necessity brought
the members of the book trade into very close relations with one
another. The custom continued up to the outbreak of the Civil
War. In the changes incident to that period of disturbance it
was interrupted, and never again regained its former importance.

CHAPTER VII

REMINISCENCES OF WAR TIME
Development of antislavery sentiment — -Streng^h of the South and
the Democratic Party — Increase in valiie of slaves with devel-
opment of cotton — Timidity of the business men of the North
— Impressions of a Northern man when in the South country —
Increase of sectional bitterness — Outbreak of war — Effect on
business — Experience of a New England family in the army—
Sketch of the work of Massachusetts in the war — Effect on
business — Philadelphia in war time — The Union League and
enlistment of colored troops — Close of the Rebellion.

In recounting the events of my year in Pittsfield, Massachu-
setts, when a boy of about eleven years of age, I referred to the
interest taken by my brother-in-law, James Dnnham, in the anti-
slavery movement. The course of the years had added to the
flood of Opposition gathering in New England and throitghout
the North against slavery. Yet the abolitionists did not repre-
sent the great body of the people. There was a general regret
and dissatisfaction that slavery existed in our country, but it was
not an Opposition so intense and dominant that its power needed
to be feared by the South, Northern business people were timid.
They dreaded an upheaval that would damage trade, and their
conscience and sympathies were not aroused siifficiently to regard
favorably the question of sacrificing personal interests for the
sake of a question of ethics.

Except during the period of Washington's presidency and
that of John Adams and of John Quincy Adams, the South
rcally had controlled the national poHcies and principles in rela-
tion to legislation. The large Democratic Party of the North
had always been subsenrient to the Southern wing of this party. .
Indeed, through these Northern Democrats, the South had dom-
inated at Washington. On the other band, the Northern AVhigs

were not aggressive, and were hoping always for compromises
instead of conflicts. Even in the Southern states, however, the
institution of slavery had long been regarded as a temporary
condition. Many of her best people had tolerated slavery, feel-
ing that at some time, not in their own day, by some method at
present not imaginable, free labor would take the place of slaves.
When, however, cotton became all important, and rose to the title,
"Cotton is king," all uncertainty as to the need which existed
in the South for slavery vanished. The commercial value of
slaves increased enormously, and there was a constant demand
for an increase of the "blacks." Thus, while the people of the
slaveholding states were developing a stronger determination to
maintain slavery, we of the North were slowly but surely feeling
a growing disgust and Horror of it.

When a Northern man went to a Southern city, in those days,
he feit that he had entered a foreign land. We recognized an
atmosphere to which we were unaccustomed. It pervaded the
whole social fabric — church, school, and legislative hall. It influ-
enced the relations of home and business life. Although nothing
inight be said of its existence, its presence was like an evil spirit
that filled the Southern lands, and the man from the free states
was depressed in temper, and appalled hy the conditions devel-
oped by this slave system. He was amazed that the people of
this foreign land could not only tolerate such a system, but that
they regarded it, some as a necessity and others as a divinely-
appointed institution. So arose a bittemess between all classes
of the North and South, which was intensified by the political
struggles associated with the exclusion of slavery from the new
states admitted to the Union, The publication of "Uncte Tom's
Cabin" and the outbreak caused by John Brown both added
much fuel to the fire of growing hatred. Still, in spite of all
these conditions, a strong, conservative pjement of antislavery
people in the North would have welcomed any compromise that
would have averted war. I am positive that an arrangement

could have been made, by which a form of gradual emancipation
could have been effected, the slaveholders receiving füll com-
pensation for their human property. So desirous was this impor-
tant element in the North that peaceful means should prevail,
that it would have accepted an arrangement by which füll polit-
ical restriction would have been placed on the "blacks," so that
they could not have hoped for citizenship. But the Southern
leaders were determined, aggressive, and deluded by the belief
that the patient Democrats of the North would support them to
any limit, even to that of secession.

They were in error. It was on a Sunday evening, just as I
was entering the old Tenth Street Dutch Reformed Church, that
William J, Mence, one of the ushers, told me that Fort Sumter
had been attacked by the South Carolina troops, and that Presi-
dent Lincoln had caüed on the loyal states for seventy-five
thousand men for the Federal army.

This act of South Carolina united the whole North, especially,
as Secretary Seward pleasantly remarked, that the war would be
finished within three months. And we were in error, We were
overconfident, and couid not reaüze that the long four years of
civil war lay before us. But Bull Run awoke us to the serious-
ness of the struggle, so that, by the end of the first year of the
war, business was in a condition of utter confusion and loss.

Fortunately for me, I had no large affairs in the South, but
in the border states I had much that went to wreckage. These
were days, however, when some men with sufficient courage,
capital, and Judgment bought in large supplies of stock, and
continued to increase it, knowing that the demands would be
urgent and that prices would ose in proportion.

In the beginning of 1862, I proposed to my partner that we
should close up our business and separate. The aniounts on our
books were equaltzed and, our interests being equal, the ter-
mination of our copartnership was easily effected. So we parted
after an association of twelve years in business.

About this time, my brothcr George proposed that we should
go to Washington and visit the city. This we did, spending'
about a week there and seeing the varioiis camps. It was during
the period of the three months' service, before the fatal day of
Bull Run.

All my nephews of proper age, five in number, enlisted early
in Massachusetts regiments. The experiences of their arniy
Service were similar to so many of the New England soldiers,
that one need not thinlc deeply to appreciate the radical changes
that developed in that section of country as a result of the war.
George Bliss, the oldest son of my brother William, had enlisted
in the Tenth Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry. Before the
expiration of the three months' term of enlistment, he resigned
his place in that regiment and re-enlisteJ in the Fifty-second
Regiment of Massachusetts Infantry. He was appointed cap-
tain of one of its companies, which was composed of men from
Amherst and near-by villages. He had a splendid record as an
officer. He feil in battle at Port Hudson, near New Orleans,
shot through both lungs. His brother William was a lieutenant
in the Thirty-seventh Massachusetts Infantry, and was engaged
in all the active service of that noted regiment, which was
attached to the Sixth Army Corps. He was promoted to a
captaincy. After Gettysburg, as his brother George had been
killed, and William was the only son left to his widowed mother,
his family urged him to resign. He did this against his will,
but from the knowledge that his family needed his financial as
well as moral support. Edward Bliss, a son of my brother
Edward, was a member of a Massachusetts infantry regiment
■ enhsted at Worcester. He was severely wounded in the ehest,
at Antietam. The ball was never exfracted, but he lived to fill
an honorable place in the community where he resided. His
twin brother Edwin, also in a Massachusetts infantry regiment.
died from fever at Newhourne. Theodore Kingsley, a son of
my sister Caroline, served in a Massachusetts regiment and

returned home uninjured. So, of ihese five nephews, two died,
one was wounded so that he could never again be considered a
robust man, and two came back unhurt,

Massachusetts went into the war almost as to a Crusade. She
had been preparing for the conflict. Her miHtary organizations
were in good shape and ready to take the field. At the very
beginning of the struggle, when Washington was denuded of
troops, it was tbe Sixth Massachusetts Regiment of Infantry that
fought its way through the mob at Baltimore, to save and gar-
rison the national capital. They reached Washington, but the
way was closed behind them, It was tbe Eigbth Massachusetts
Regiment with General Butler that opened up a new route to
the capital by the way of Annapolis. Again, it was the Sixth
Massachusetts Regiment that was a part of Butler's column to
enter Baltimore, and overawe that rebelHous city from Federal
Hin, a movement that gave confidence to the loyalists of Maryland
and helped to save the State to the Union.

I do not wish to stir up the embers of a burned-out fire.
We have long ago forgiven those whom we considered to be our
enemies, but we would not forget what is worthy of remem-
brance — the cheerfu! response to the call for troops, the splendid
record in the field, the loss of New England's best blood; for
she gave her best.

I believe that I give the correct figures, when I State that
Massachusetts fumished 159,254 men, being 13,492 in excess of
the troops strictly required for all the different calls for enlist-
ment. Of this total, 13,165 served in the navy. It has been
claimed that "foreign hirelings" fiüed the ranks of the Northern
regimeuts of volunteers. Of the thousands of men from Mas-
sachusetts, only 907 were non-resident foreigners. Statistics
show that 3,543 officers and men were killed in battle. Deaths
from wounds claimed 1,986, and from disease, 5,672. One thou-
sand, eight hundred and forty-three men died in Confederate
prisons, and 1,026 are given as among the lost and unrecorded.

The colored troops numbered 6,039. It was a worthy record that
these thousands from Massachusetts niade on the battlefields oi
Virginia.

"Lift again the stately emblem on the Bay State's rusted shield.
Give to northern winds the Pine Tree on our banner's tattered field."

Thus wrote tliat most peaceful of men, Whittier, in the fiery
zeal that blazed up in his soul at the war f or freedom ; and the
sons of the Eay State answered his call, and the shield was no
longer rusted, but borne back with honor.

It was a homogeneoiis army, that from New England. It was
the last response of the pure, old New England stock to the
country's call to duty and to arms, Lives that would have filled
its Workshops and farms, its law courts and pulpits and counting-
rooms, its schools, Colleges, and laboratories, were lost on the
battlefield or in the hospitals,

Among the returning troops were many men on whom the
four years of activity had wrought a spirit of restlessness, and
these wandered away to seek larger spheres of action in the
great cities and in the growing West. Newcomers from Ireland
and Canada took their places. Later came the immigration from
Italy, Rumania, Russia, and Syria, until, to-day, representatives
from all the nations on earth have found homes in the land of
the English Puritans. In some of the towns of western New
England, a little coterie of elderly ladies, most of whom are
spinsters, together with a few old gentlemen, unite in activities
of charity, education, and reform in politics, striving to band on
the torch that has come to their feeble hands from a strong and
aggressive ancestry. Perhaps that is all that the old, dying race
can do, band on the torch of liberty and law, of high ideals in
civic affairs and education, and of respect for what was good
and true and beautiful in the days of old.

Philadelphia was an intensely loyal city. It lay so near the
"frontier," where the army of the Potomac was acting, that it

was, indeed, the last home city to cheer the Union soldiers going
to the front, and the first to welcome them on their retum. We
had a few "Copperheads," as the Southern sympathizers were
called, but the overwheltning mass of the population was enthu-
siastically loyal to the Union cause.

I joined the Union League very soon after its formation, It
was not a social club, then, but was organized to give moral and
financial support to the government, I was niade treasurer of
the club's conimittee to raise and train colored troops. This was
quite a long time before the proclamation of emancipation. The
government's policy in regard to freedom for the slaves was
timid and uncertain. Prejudice against the negro was very
decided, even among the most ioyal supporters of the Union.
Many of us feit, however, that we were lacking in the courage
of our convictions if we made war on secession alone. Beside
this question of principle, and associated with it, we feit, too, that
it was most shortsighted and impolitic to refuse the help of the
"blacks," in a war that must eventuate in their freedom. Our
committee was a very unpopulär one, but we had such men on it
as E. W. Clark, in whose ofSce we met, Abram Earker, Henry C.
Lea, Samuel S. White, and Charles Wise. As soon as we had
any encouragement from the drift of events and public opinion,
we began to accept colored recniits and form them into com-
panies and regiments, the camp being at Chelten Hills. We
developed several regiments, under the command of Gen. Louis
Wagner. Many of our fellow members of the League were far
from being in sympathy with our efforts, and we had no really
encouraging success until the proclamation of emancipation.
After this, recruiting developed rapidly, and we formed a number
of regiments under white officers. Later, as these troops began
to prove their efficiency, black men were accepted as corporals
and sergeants, but none above the rank of non-commissioned
officers. In those stirring times the League was located on
Chestnut Street, near Twelfth.

Gettysburg threw Philadelphia into a State of alarm that
to-day can be scarcely realized. Defeat of the army of the Poto-
mac was anticipated. Many banks and jewelers sent valuables
away to New York City. Batteries were rapidly thrown up
along: the Schuylkill, in West Philadelphia, and to the north and
south of the city. The calm and tranquil figiire of von Humboldt
Stands on a bluff at the east end of Girard Avenue bridge, where
a small, circular earthwork was erected and arranged for artil-
lery. As a member of the Home Guard, I was active in the
drills and preparations of these home defenders. It is pathetic to
think of the defense we couJd have developed against the veterans
of Lee and Longstreet and the army of northern Virginia.

My sister-in-law, Anna Wright, took great interest in the
organized work of the women of the city to meet incoming
trains at the Cooper Shop Station, where the sotdiers arrived
from the North or South, Here food in ample supply was ever
ready for distribution, and, what the men appreciated almost as
much, friendly words of cheer or welcome or encouragement
from the ladies in attendance. Anna worked, also, in the hos-
pitals, visiting the sick and wounded, writing letters for thera,
buying Üttle delicacies, ever ready with a cheery word. The
men did not always appreciate the kindly attention, and yet it
was rare that they failed in this respect. At the Turner's Lane
Hospital, Anna had noted a very handsome officer who was
utterly bored to rebellion by the attentions of the lady visitors.
One of these angels of the ward drifted into the room, glanced
about for a moment, and glided to the officer's bedside. "My
poor sufferer! What can I do for you?" "Co away! Go
away! I don't want anything!" growled the handsome son of
Mars. "Oh, but surely I can do something to allay your pain."
"No, you can't! All I want is to be let alone!" "Let me bathe
your face," pleads the angel. "All right, go ahead and do it;
but if you do, you'll be the fifteenth Voman that has washed my
face this moming !"

But the work of tlie iady visitors was of inestimable value
in cheering the men and assisting the medical staff. Dressings
that would be regarded as microbe bearers, to-day, were prepared
in churches, from old linen and muslin, picked into lint by women
and children who enjoyed the social phases of this gathering
together for works of mercy. But no one dreamed of aseptic
surgery in those times. The Sanitary Commission, whose labors
in the field, camp, and hospital were of untold value for the
physical comfort and mora! improvement of the soldiers, covered
Logan Square with buildings and held a great fair, then known
as the Sanitary Fair. It lasted during many weeks. Mr.
Lincoln came as a visitor, and many other celebrated n*en of
those stirring times showed their zeal and interest in the work
of the Commission, The erection of the buildings, however, so
injured the noble old trees of the Square that they have deteri-
orated ever since,

As I look out on this Square from a window of my house,
or as my faithful Jacob rolls me in my invalid's chair along the
walks, the almost forgotten past recurs very vividly to me
amid the great changes of to-day. The scenes of other days
appear as in a dream. Again, moving southward, the troops go
by in serried columns through the streets, the tramp of infantry
in endless Hnes, and the rumble of artillery and wagons. I see
the stately and mournfui pomp of Lincoln's funeral procession
moving through the streets to the music of dirges.

But the end came, at last. The church bells rang out in glad
chimes when Richmond had fallen; then Appomattox and peace.

CHAPTER VIII

RE-ESTABLISHMENT OF BUSINESS AND RETIREMENT
FROM ACTIVE LIFE

Theodore Bliss & Company — Family removes from the city to a
country home — Interest in local affairs of the new ncighbor-
hood — Organized charity — Chairman of school board — Re-
marks on the politics of Philadelphia and Pennsylvania —
Foresees the development of great changes in business — Ex-
pansion and formation of large enterprises — Changes in the
book trade — Retirement from business.

The war was in active progress, and the outcome still very
uncertain, when I re-entered business. The firm of Theodore
Eliss & Company located in a building on Third Street, above
Arch, For those days it was a good location, and had a roomy,
well-lighted salesroom. As we consider conditions to-day, it
would have been regarded as a very inferior kind of building
for a respectable firm. My efforts to revive my business were
fairly successful, and I remained on Third Street until circum-
stances induced me to purchase a much better building on Fifth
Street, No. 44, facing the cemetery of Christ Church. With
this large störe, I purchased also a smaller building which
adjoined in the rear, on the adjacent North Street. For my
purposes, the wide, deep second story on Fifth Street sufficed for
Office and salesroom, and I rented all the other floors to firnis
etigaged in various lines of trade.

My business was a general one o£ bookselling and publishing.
It extended over several states, but was most active in the towns
of Pennsylvania, where I supplied the local trade with every
variety of book from fiction to spelling primers, and with all
articles of stationery. I was in close touch with all my Phila- j

delphia colleagues in the book trade, with whom I made frequent
exchanges and did quite a volume of business.

On the whole, those were peacefu] days of contentment, in
which the flying years lapsed one into another so that the flight
of time was scarcely noted. As our children were reaching ages
when the air and confinement of the town were bad conditions
for their proper growth, Mary and I decided to find a home
outside of the city ümits. Such a place we discovered not far
from Gemiantown, atid to this country home we removed in
June of 1868. There we passed thirteen very happy years,
although the tragic death of our oldest son, Theodore, within a
few weeks after our removal from the city, cast a deep gloom
over the beginning of this country Üfe.

In spite of the very fair degree of success that attended my
business affairs, and the comforts of our home life, I was becom-
ing more and more conscious of a creeping shadow that was
eventually to obscure much of life's sunshine for me, and was
destined to shut me away from the active affairs of mankind
into the narrow confines of an invalid's Chamber. As yet, how-
ever, my chronic iHness had assumed the form only of sharp
but transitory attacks of rheumatic gout. I could transact my
affairs, and take part in the various interests of our suburban
Community.

It was during those years that I served on the school board
of the district, developed our local society for organizing charity,
and participated in the management of the parish work of the
Kenderton Presbyterian Church. The need for united action of
Citizens to meet the increasing suffering that comes from want
of thrift, from intemperance, from shiftlessness and indolence
among the unintelligent laboring classes was beginning to be
recognized. Throughout the country, in all large eitles, com-
mittees of Citizens were forming to consider how best the growing
evil of beggary and abject poverty could be met and overcome.

In organizing the local branch öf this work, I was a partner

wtth the clergyman of the Episcopal parish of our neighboi
the Rev. Joseph R. Moore. He was a man who united a kindly
nature with a keen, practical view of life. The rector of a
singularly difficult parish, requiring great firmness and yet tact
in the handling of its afFairs, he still found time to interest him-
self greatly in the work of our organized charity association.
Our friendship lasted until his death, in 1908, which was the
result mainly of overwork and worry with increasing cares of his
parish, together with the physical weakness of his increasing age.

I had soiiie little taste of the political methods in vogue in
Philadelphia, in my scrvice as chairman of our district school
board, which certainly did not encourage me to venture far into
the meshes of "politics." I had been a Republican from the
foiinding of that party, but had never been reconciled to the
methods of the "Organization" and to the evils that resulted from
bossism. For this reason I welcomed the signs of discontent
that developed, twenty years ago, in the formation of an inde-
pendent movement that aimed at reform within the party. I
have followed these efforts ever since, with all the loyal backing
that my financial contributions and persona! vote could give, only
to see the party Organization succeed year after year, and to
know that Philadelphia and Pennsylvania were becoming more
and more shackled under the rule of that most evil combination
for a democratic republic, the partnership of the political boss
and municipal contractor with the great industrial "trusts" of the
city and State. Long ago, I predicted that both state and city
would develop most of the conditions which now prevail, and
which have been characterized as a combination of corruption
and contentment. I foresaw the physical and material ills that
were in störe for the community quite as much as I did the
moral degeneration.

The same evil influences are at work throughout the country ;
but, in Pennsylvania and its two great cities, the resistance has
been feeble, spasmodic, not always in real, bitter earnest, and

too offen under the leadership of what Mr. Roosevelt terms,
"good, weak meti." Then, too, with these conditions, and with
the want of experienced leaders, firm anc! sincere, there has beeti
a loose and imperfectly developed Opposition force, in which the
public is conscious of a mingling of various interests, selfish,
hopelessly transcendental, sordidly materialistic. Such a fusion
of good, bad, and indifferent has too often given the Impression
of an inefficient and not trustworthy political mob. The long
political reign of Donald Cameron, followed by the longer rule
of bis well-trained successor, Quay, has built iip an oligarchy as
dose, well-ordered, and compact as ever ruled an Italian city
republic. The peculiarly flaccid and unresisting character of the
Philadelphia citi^^enship has allowed of the Usurpation of its
municipal government by a combination of politicians with the
contractors for the public works, that has gradually centralized
into political boss and contractor combined in the same individual.
These men watch their interests keenly in regard to all legislation
at Harrisburg affecting their business affairs in Philadelphia;
while, by the local party Organization, they control the tvvo Cham-
bers of the city Councils completely. They are also in close
relationship with the national Republican Organization, and with
the Republican administration at Washington.

I look back regretfully upon the series of excellent mayors
who headed the municipal administration, in older days. Until
twenty years ago, discussions were held in the Council Chambers,
The pros and cons of a measure introduced for consideration
were propounded and answered. Indeed, even with all the
intrigue and maneuvering of that time, matters of legislation
were studied with some earnest consideration of their value to
the city. It has long since ceased to be so. I am assured that the
people's representatives in the municipal Chambers pass measures
without discussion, and on the direction of the party bosses. I
, am well aware that some of the most seriotis defects of our
I present System of municipal and State government are not to be

proved in black and white. The relation of large corporate
interests with the small circle of politidans in absolute control
of city and State is obscure, hidden, and unprovable; yet this
relationship is believed by every one to be a real and active, as
well as a sinister, influence in our political business and social
affairs.

Citizens scold at these conditions. The press is eloquent in
editorial wrath against them, but the oligarchy's reign goes
smoothly on, and the same Organization is returned to ofiice by
large majorities after every election. Yet that Organization of
representative Citizens, with its pleasant club house at Broad and
Sansom streets, that Union League, organized to uphold Lincoln
and a rule of, for, and by the people, could alter all these things
in a year, if its members would unite in earnest, aggressive, even
bitter rebellion against the rule of bossism. Temperamentally I
am a bad hater of an arbitrary and tyrannous govemment. I
have at titnes feit that only gunpowder, a Cromwell, and civil
war could burst through and ruin the oligarchy. But it needs
none of those things. An awakened populär sentiment, based
on conviction that our municipal and State govemments are
handled in the interest of the few and not for the good of all,
that no compromise can be had with the upholders o£ these
methods, would effect their overthrow. To hold them down and
forever under, the sentiment must be crystallized into an Organi-
zation, in which every Citizen does his Service at the primaries
and at the election booth.

We can never have an honest and businesslike management
of our public affairs that will have a long continuity of existence.
Our very cumbersome form of govemment, as a democratic
republic, precludes all possibility that the struggle between selfish,
personal interests and the general public welfare shall ever
cease. However, conditions need not be so entirely on the oli-
garchy's side as they exist to-day in the fair state of Pennsyl-
1 and its two chief cities. In the rough and tumble of our

populär form of government, the people sliouM be able to direct
3 general average of good government, if the Citizens will stay
awake, assume their own dictatorship, and be on the alert to see
that the republic shall suffer no detriment.

The flood of years was bearing my family and business
affairs on a quiet, peaceful course towards that critical spring of
1873. I had not foreseen the financial crisis that threatened the
country, but, for several years before this event, I was becoming
convinced that very important changes were developing in the
book trade. Undoubtedly the same changes were being feit in
all lines of business. It was the short transition period that came
between the affairs of the middle of the nineteenth Century and
that century's last quarter. The days of small things, of strictly
private and individual undertakings,— we might say, the days of
"the simple life," — were passing away. In their place was a
spirit of restless expansion, a tendency to form large combina-
tions and associations of enterprises that might be supposed to
have interests in common.

"Community of interests" is a large, free and easy term to
express the hunger for wealth, the ambition to control, that has
led to trust formations and the magnifying of a few individuals.
I am f ar from decrying the advantages that have come f rom such
a development — the saving in the cost of production, the lessened
cost to the consumer. The wicked side of this centralization,
and of these combinations of trade in restraint of competition,
has been so dilated upon in sermon, political speech, editorial,
and magazine article, that scarcely anything more remains to be
Said in Opposition.

I recognized the coming changes, and knew that only one of
two courses was open to me if I would meet the future without
loss — either I must enlarge my business greatly or I must retire
from it altogether. One of the first signs that a change in the
book trade in Philadelphia was at band developed in the house of
J. B. Lippincott & Company. From a very obscure beginning,

in a little store on Fourth Street near Race. the enterprise of the
founder of this house had led to the growth of a large and
important establishment, probably the most important Publishing
and wholesale book firm in our city. Three individuals who had
developed under J. B. Lippincott's somewhat stern and aggressive
management, and who were associated in the bindery and print-
ing departments of his establishment, conceived the idea of leav-
ing this firm and establishing a rival enterprise of their own.
None of these men were fitted by experience, by judgment, or by
temperament for such an undertaking, but I saw that the new
firm of Claxton, Remsen & Haffelfinger wouM, at least for a
time, disturb the conditions of trade by a bitter rivalry with the
stronger and older house, and that a desperate war of cutting in
prices would result. Already in New York and Eoston the older
houses were enlarging their establishments, and doing business
on a Scale more as it is done to-day. There was no place for
small firms, even if they speciahzed in certain lines of trade.
Expansion and combination were essential.

My physical infirmity was increasing rapidly. I had made a
very fair competence, in the long years of a successful business.
I did not feel the need or the inclination to plunge into the
struggles and risks of the new movement in trade. It was a
most tortunate determination for me, that I resolved to dispose of
my stock and my stereotype piates and retire completely from
business. I acconiplished all this very quickly, so that, when the
financial crash of 1873 came, I was out of the storm.

The house of J. B. Lippincott is a very respcctable firm even
to this day, long after its founder's death. The firm of Claxton,
Remsen & Haffelfinger, after a coiirse as disastrous as it was
Short, is a forgotten name. I would not imply that many failures
occurred among the firms in the book trade, but the large houses
became even more important, tlie sniall publishers and wholesale
dealers Consolidated, retired from business, or were later amal-

gamated into book departments of the rapidly-developing depart-
ment stores.

And so the old Order of things changed, giving place to the
new. With the abandonment of the semiannual trade sales, the
cordia! relations between the members of the book trade through-
out the country disappeared; the giiild spirit vanished. The
publication of books went more into the hands of a few great
houses in each city, who did their own printing and bindJng.
Gradually many of these began to confine their business to the
sale of their own pubücations. The bookstores where the pro-
prietor and his older clerks kncw the character of the books
on the shelves of their salesroom, and could outline the contents
of a volume to a purchaser, were reduced in number to a very
few in each city, patronized by a small circle of book lovers.
Public libraries developed to such a splendid degree, that the
private library of t!ie home was needed no longer. Every variety
of volume, from the most costly book of reference to nursery
tales, could be had without money and without pnce. The great
department stores possess book departments that are larger and
better equipped for retail sales, than existed, in the older days, in
any single bookstore.

With this wide distribution of firms engaged in the retail
sale of books, as a phase of a vast general business in all com-
modities, from shoes to hats, from false hair to drug suppHes
and groceries, came a competition that resulted, and still obtains,
in a great rediiction in prices for books, almost to the level of the
publisher's charges. I do not criticise these changes adversely.
They were the natural development of an age of greater enter-
prise than had preceded such expansion.

It was all this that I foresaw, in my quiet office on Fifth
Street, and I was glad to slip out and away from the coming
period of storm and stress.

CHAPTER IX

ILLNESS AND OLD AGE

Development of a. chronic illness — Remarks of an invalid on his
invalidism — Feelings of rcgret that the end of life is approach-
ing — An expression of religious faith — Not "Good night," but
"Good moming."

The year 1873, in which I retired from business, and which
witnessed a financial panic that is a shadow in the business his-
tory of America, marked for me the beginning of the more
serious phases of my chronic ill health.

Far back in the summer of 1859, I had taken my family to
Mary's old home in Northatnpton, Massachusetts. We were
expecting the birth of another child. The pleasant old house
on Bridge Street was a comfortable haven of refuge from the
intense heat of Philadelphia. My intention was to establish our
household affairs, and rcturn as soon as possible to my business
in Philadelphia. One pleasant day in tliat July, I erected a swing
in the old woodshed, which the children enjoyed greatly, and
there I spent some time in swinging them, That evening, I
noticed some soreness in my right Shoulder. Of course, I sup-
posed that this was a mere strain of the muscles, It marked
the beginning of a peculiar malady that has affected me with
steadily-increasing severity. One Joint after another has been
distorted and the ümbs bound, until I could no longer move
about on cane or crutches, and was forced to the continuous «se
of a wheel chair. Physicians have had many names for this
interesting malady and many theories to account for its develop-
ment, and many have been the forms of treatment that I have
received at their hands. They name it rheumatoid arthritis, or
arthritis deform ans.

I have never received any benefit from medica! treatment.

Some relief has come from risits to the spriiigs of Virginia, and
to Richfield, in New York. What has kept me from that com-
plete anchylosis which makes the victim rigid from head to foot,
as immovable as a !og, has resulted from the constant exercise
of all available muscles and joints, together with a careful diet,
and chiefly, perhaps, the faithful care of my devoted wife, until
weakened health made her, too, an invalid,

I wish that my very marked case of rheumatoid arthritis
could have proved a source of successfui study for the good of
other sufferers from this disease. I can honestly say that I would
not wish my worst enemy to suffer as I have; to have had the
fate of being bound band and foot and imprisoned within an
invaUd's chamber, while the mind remained clear and active and
still alert to the affairs of everyday Ufe. I say this in no spirit
of bitterness. I hate the confinement. I hate this chair on
wheels. I flinch from the pains of movement. My tempera-
ment is of the aggressive type that asks no sympathy, and even
causes me to resent any expression of pity at what people would
consider a cruel fate. I have known long years of suffering and
helplessness, I have had nights of unrest and without sleep. I
have lived alone, hour after hour, in my quiet room, with only
my thoughts and remembrances for companions. Yet, in my
extreme old age, I can say with perfect sincerity that I would
live this life of mine all over again gladly, even including this
long period of iilness. For, in this eighty-eighth year of my
age, life seems to me a very little and short experience. The
hours for sleep, for rest, for refreshment shorten these years
greatly, when measured by activity, by the accomplishment of
results. I have been a man of action, and I must agree with the
writer who says, that we Üve in deeds and thoughts and feelings
more than in years and in the figures on a dial. I can have the
thoughts and feelings still. And so, in my great age and feeble-
ness, I am not ready to renounce life gladly, and welcome the
peace of death.

And yet it is growing late. Mary, who shared nobly with me
the sorrows and trials of life, as well as its few joys, has found
her rest. The friends of other days are all dead. I am the
last one that remains of my family. Long ago most of my
associates in business and active affairs passed away. My chil-
dren are married and live in homes of their own. They have
their own interests in which I have no part. Surely, night and
the end of the road must be very near at hand.

The religious faith which my mother taught me in childhood
has undergone many changes in form, as I have been influenced
by the current thought of later years. Yet, in substance, that
faith has been my com fort and strength, as well as my guide,
through years of suffering. I can trust in Him whom to know
aright is life. I can hope for better things, in an existence free
from the bürden of this poor distorted body of mine, where, in
conditions so changed that we cannot conceive of their character,
we have faith to believe that personality continues, that the best
in US finds opportunity and noble incentive for activity ; where, in
a Spiritual sense, we may run and not be weary, we may walk
and not faint.

"Life ! we've been long together
Through pleasant and through cloudy weather;
'Tis hard to part when friends are dear;
Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear;

Then steal away, give little warning,
Choose thine own time;
Say not 'Good night/ but in some brighter clime

Bid me *Good morning/ "

CONCLUSrON

The Verses that dose the last chapter of my father's remi-
riscences were a favorite quotation of his, when a visitor, on
leaving him, stood by his chair and said good-by. Less than
three motiths after the completion of our Joint work in collecting
the notes for this memoir, Theodore Eliss found an end of his
suffering and entered into rest. He died on March 23, 1910.
It was a beautiful afternoon, the day before Easter Sunday,
when a small Company of his relatives and friends saw his coffin
lowered into the grave beside that of his devoted wife. "I am
the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord. He that believeth
in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever
liveth and believeth in me, shall never die." The words were
said in the stillness of that sunny afternoon, in Laurel Hill
Cemetery, with all natura just ready to burst into the resurrec-
tion of springtime.

Among his carefully kept books and documents, we found a
volume the entries in which dated far back to the early years of
his business career. In this had been recorded the gifts that my
father had made to private individuals and public institutions.
The entries were dated until withJn a few weeks of his death.
The sums thus given, when computed for each year, totaled an
araount very close to one tenth of his income from his business
or Investments. They represented a wide variety of interests —
homes for children, societies for the care and education of chil-
dren, gifts to missionary societies, contributions to schools and
Colleges for the education of negro students.

I knew that my father had been generous in his contri-
butions to charities, but I had never realized how broadly bis
interest had extended to all classes of work and effort that could
improve the citizenship of the future and the development of our

country. Such gifts represented not alone a feeling of sympathy
for the poor and needy, but were expressions of real patriotistn.

My father was unable lo express an emotion in words. It
was possible to misunderstand much of his character and conduct
by a failure to reaüze this limitation in verbal expression. The
more deeply he was moved by a sentiment, ihe less was he able
to voice his feelings.

It seems to me that, even with the appreciable degree of suc-
cess in his career, he never had a fair chance to take the places
of importance in public as well as private affairs that he was
entitled to.by the keenness and cleamess of his mind, his strong
sense of justice, and his ability to form rational judgments.
The restriction of his activity in life resulted, in part, from ill
health, the beginnings of which long preceded the development
into physical helplessness. His temperament was such that he
could not compromise a question of principle. For this reason
he niay not have been a good co-worker with associates in organi-
zations political or social. Such a man frequently makes a wise
and firm ruler, but lacks the art of yielding at one point to win
at another, which seems to be requisite when associations of men
counsel together for common interests.

It is with the feeling that the man himself was worthy of a
fair presentation of his character and principles that I have pre-
pared this memoir for publication. A. A. B.

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