Triumphs and Wonders of the 19th Century: The True Mirror of a Phenomenal Era / A volume of original, entertaining and instructive historic and descriptive writings, showing the many and marvellous achievements which distinguish an hundred years of material, intellectual, social and moral progress

by James P. Boyd

XVI. PROBLEMS FOR FUTURE STUDY.

Many problems are in store for the future. The field for research still opens wide. How the solar activity is to be maintained was answered by Newton in the suggestion that comets falling into it kept up its supply of matter and energy. Waterston, in 1853, propounded the thought that meteoric matter may be the aliment of the sun. Now the prevalent theory is that a contraction of the sun’s volume, constantly in progress, but so slight as to be invisible to the most powerful telescope, is competent to furnish a heat supply equal to all that can have been emitted during historic periods.

Professor Newcomb answers the question, “How long will the sun endure?” by saying, “The physical conclusion to which we are led by a study of the laws of nature is that the sun, like a living being, must have a birth and will have an end. From the known amount of heat which it radiates we can, even in a rude way, calculate the probable length of its life. From fifteen to twenty millions of years seems to be the limit of its age in the past, and it may exist a few millions of years, perhaps five or ten, in the future.”

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CAROLUS LINNÆUS OF SWEDEN, FATHER OF MODERN BOTANY.

This illustration was prepared by a Swedish society, and represents the famous botanist after his return from the exploration of Lapland, and with a bunch of his favorite flower (Linnæa borealis) in his hand.

STORY OF PLANT AND FLOWER
By THOMAS MEEHAN,
Vice President Academy of Natural Sciences, Philadelphia.

Botany, in its general sense, signifies the knowledge of plants. In the earlier periods of human history plants appealed to mankind as material for food or medicine; and down to comparatively recent times botanical studies were pursued mainly in these directions. Dioscorides, a Greek, who lived in the first century of the Christian era, is the earliest writer of whom we have knowledge that can lay a claim to botanical distinction, but the medical property of plants was evidently the chief incentive to his task. It was not until the beginning of the sixteenth century that botany, in its broad sense, became a study, and Le Cluse, a French physician, who died in 1609, may be regarded as one of its patriarchs. Still the medical uses of plants were steadily kept in view. The English botanist, John Gerarde, who was a contemporary of Le Cluse, or Clusius, as botanists usually call him, wrote a remarkable work on botany,—remarkable for his time,—but this was styled a “Herbal,” as were other famous botanical works down to the beginning of the present century.

Following the year 1700, the knowledge of plants individually became so extended that systematic arrangement became desirable. The first real advance in this direction was made by Carl Von Linné, commonly known by its Latin form, Linnæus, a Swede, born in 1707, and whose talents for botanical acquirements seemed almost innate. In his twenty-third year he saw the need of a better system, and commenced at once the great work of botanical reform. He saw that plants with a certain number of stamens and pistils were correlated, and he founded classes and orders on them. Flowers with five stamens or six stamens would belong to his class pentandria or hexandria, respectively, and those with five pistils or six pistils pentagynia, or hexagynia, accordingly; and so on up to polyandria, or polygynia—many stamens or pistils—of which our common buttercup is an illustration. He further showed that two names only were all that is necessary to denote any plant, the generic name and its adjective, as, for instance, Cornus alba, the white Dogwood; and that the descriptions should be brief, covering only the essential points wherein one species of plant differed from another. This became known as the sexual system. It fairly electrified intelligent circles. People generally took to counting stamens and pistils, and large numbers took pride in being botanists because they could trace so easily the classes and orders of the plants they met. The grand old man died in 1778, and though his artificial system had to give way to a more natural method, he is justly regarded as the father of modern botany.

THE GREEN ROSE.

Flower with leaves for petals.

With the incoming of the nineteenth century, botany took a rapid start. It ceased to be a mere handmaid to the study of medicine. Chemistry, geography, teleology, and indeed the chief foundations of biology had become closely interwoven with botanical studies; and thus the progress of botany through the century has to be viewed from many standpoints.

In classification, what is known as the natural system has replaced the sexual. Plants are grouped according to their apparent relationships. Those resembling in general character the Rose form the order Rosaceæ; the Lily, Liliaceæ. Sometimes, however, a striking characteristic is adopted for the family name, as Compositæ, or compound flower, for the daisy and aster-flowered plants; Umbelliferæ, or umbel-flowering, as in carrot or parsley; Leguminosæ, having the seed vessels as legumes, like peas and beans.

HEAD OF WHITE CLOVER, WITH A BRANCH FROM THE CENTRE.

Classification has, however, derived much assistance from a wholly new branch of the science known as Morphology. This teaches that all parts of plants are modifications of other parts. What Nature may have intended to be a leaf may become a stem; the outer series of floral envelopes, or calyx, may become petals; petals may become stamens; and even pistils may become leaves, or even branches. The green rose of the florists is a case in which the leaves that should have been changed into petals to form a perfect rose flower have persisted in continuing green leaves, though masquerading as petals; and it is not unusual to find in the rose cases where the pistils have reverted to their original destination as the analogue of branches, and have started a growth from the centre of the flower. So in an orange, the carpels, or divisions, are metamorphosed primary leaves. Two series of five each make the ten divisions. Sometimes the axis starts to make another growth, as noted in the rose, but does not get far before it is arrested, and then we have a small orange inside a larger one, as in the navel orange. Just the reverse occurs sometimes. The lower series is suppressed, and only the upper one develops to a fruiting stage, when the small red oranges known as the Tangerines are the results. Illustrations of these transformations of one organ to another are frequent if we look for them. The annexed illustration shows a condition of the white clover, which, instead of the usual round head, has started on as a raceme or spike.

These wanderings from general forms were formerly regarded as monsters, of no particular use to the botanical student, but are now welcomed as guiding stars to the central features of Morphology. The importance of this branch of botany, in connection with classification, can readily be seen.

The studies in the behavior of plants have made remarkable progress during the century, and this also derives much aid from morphology. The strawberry sends out runners from which new plants are formed; but, tiring of this, eventually sends the runner upward to act as a flower stalk. What might have been but a bunch of leaves and roots at the end of the runner is now converted into a mass of flowers and pedicels at the end of a common peduncle. In some cases Nature reverses this plan. After starting the structure as an erect fruit-bearing stem, it sends it back to pierce the ground as a root should do. This is well illustrated by the peanut.

In the common Yucca, the more tropical species have erect stems; but in the form known in gardens as Adam’s needle and thread—Yucca filamentosa—the erect stem is sent down under the surface of the ground, and is then a rhizome, instead of a caudex, or stem.

PEANUT.

A pod magnified.

Modification in connection with behavior is further illustrated by the grapevine and Virginia creeper. The whole leading shoot is here pushed aside by the development of a bud at the base of the leaf, that takes the place of a leading shoot. The original leader then becomes a tendril, and serves in the economy of the plant by clinging to trees or rocks, or in coiling around other plants in support. Great progress has been made in this department of botany within recent years. Darwin has shown that the tendrils of some plants continue in motion for some time in order to find something to cling to. The grapevine especially spends a long time in this labor if there is difficulty in reaching a host. The plant preserves vital power all this time, but no sooner is support found, than nutrition is cut off, and the tendril dies, though, hard and wiry, it serves its parent plant as a support better dead than alive. The amount of nutrition spent in sustaining motion is found to be enormous. A vine that can find ready means of support grows with a much more healthy vigor than one that has difficulty in finding it. Many plants present illustrations.

Much advance has been made in the knowledge of the motions of plants as regards their various forms. Growth in plants is not continuous; but is a series of rests and advances. In other words it is rhythmic. The nodes, or knots, in the stems of grasses are resting-places. When a rest occurs, energy may be exerted in a different direction, and a change of form result. This is well illustrated by the common Dogwood of northern woods, Cornus florida on the eastern, and Cornus Nuttallii on the western slope of the American continent. On the approach of winter the leaf is reduced to a bud scale, and then rests. When spring returns these scales resume growth and appear as white bracts. In the annexed illustration the scales that served for winter protection to the buds are seen at the apex of the bracts. In other species of Dogwood the bud scales do not resume growth. Energy is spent in another direction. In this manner we have an insight as to the cause of variation, which was not perceived even so recently as Darwin’s time. We now say that variation results from varying degrees of rhythmic growth—force; and that this again is governed by varying powers of assimilation.

OUTLINE OF A WHITE DOGWOOD FLOWER (Cornus florida), SHOWING BUD-SCALES DEVELOPED TO BRACTS.

The Darwinian view, that form results from external conditions of which the plant avails itself in a struggle for existence, is still widely accepted as a leading factor in the origin of species. Those which can assume the strongest weapons of defense continue to exist under the changed conditions. The weaker ones do not survive, and we only know of them as fossils. This is termed the doctrine of natural selection.

The origin and development of plant-life, or, as it is termed, evolution, has made rapid advancement as a study during the century. That there has been an adaptation to conditions in some respects, as contended by Mr. Darwin and his followers, must be correct. The oak and other species of trees must have been formed before mistletoe and other parasites could grow on them. In the common Dodder—species of Cuscuta—the seeds germinate in the ground like ordinary plants. As soon as they find something to attach themselves to, they cut loose from mother earth and live wholly on the host. As a speculation it seems plausible that all parasites have arisen in this way. Some, like the mistletoe, having the power, at length, to have their seeds germinate on the host-plant, have left their terrestrial origin in the past uncertain. A number of parasites, however, do not seem to live wholly on the plants they attach themselves to. These are usually destitute of green color. The Indian pipe, snow plant of the Pacific Coast, and Squaw root of the Eastern States are examples; the former called ghost-flower from its paleness. These plants have little carbonaceous matter in their structure, and hence are regarded as having formed a kind of partnership with fungi. This is known now as symbiosis, or living together of dissimilar organisms, each dependent mutually. The fungus and the flowering plant in these cases are necessary to the existence of each other. They demand nitrogen instead of carbonhydroids. The Squaw root, Conopholis Americana, though attached to the subterranean portions of the trunks of trees, is probably sustained by the fungus material in the old bark, or even in the wood, rather than by the ordinary food of flowering plants. Lichens, as it is now well known, are a compound of fungi and water weeds (algæ), and this doctrine of symbiosis is regarded as one of the great advances of the century.

It is but fair to say that the doctrine of evolution by the influence of external conditions in the change of form, though widely accepted at this time, is not without strong opponents, who point to the occasional development or suppression of parts on the same plant, though the external conditions must be the same. For instance, there are flowers that have all their parts regular, as in the petals of a buttercup; and irregular, as in the snap-dragon or fox-glove. But it has been noted that irregular flowers have pendulous stalks, while the regular ones are usually erect. But once in a while, on the same plant, flowers normally drooping will become erect. In these cases the flowers are regular. In the wild snap-dragon or yellow toad-flax, Linaria vulgaris, one of the petals is developed into a long spur; the other four petals have, in early life, become connate and transformed into parts of the flower wholly unlike ordinary petals. But now and then the original petals will all develop spurs, resulting in the condition technically known as peloria.

Linnæus gave this name to this condition because it was supposed to be “monstrous,” or something opposed to law and order. Through the advance in morphological botany we have learned to regard it as the result of some normal law of development, innate to the plant, and which could as well be the regular as the occasional condition. In other words, there is no reason why Nature might not make the five-spurred flower as continuous in a wild snap-dragon as in a columbine. Many similar facts are used by those who question the Darwinian law of development.

YELLOW TOAD-FLAX.

Flower in the peloria state.

That nutrition has more to do in the evolution of form than external forces has received much aid, as a theory, from the advance during recent times of a study of the separate sexes of flowers. On coniferous trees, notably the firs, pines, and spruces, the male and female flowers are produced separately. The female, which finally yield the cones, are always borne on the most vigorous branches. When these branches have their supply of nutrition shortened and become weak, only male flowers are produced. On the other hand, branches normally weak will at times gain increased strength, and then the male flowers give female ones. This is often seen in corn fields. The generally weak tassel will have grains of corn through it. It is not infrequent to find what should normally be perfect ears on stalks weaker than usual. In these cases the upper portion of the ear will have male flowers only.

GRAINED CORN-TASSEL.

In connection with the doctrine of development, much attention has been given during the century to fertilization of flowers and the agency of insects in connection therewith. On the one hand it is contended that in all probability the flowers in the earlier periods of the world’s history had neither color nor fragrance. In this condition they were self-fertilizers, that is, were fecundated by their own pollen. In modern phraseology they were in and in breeders. When the struggle for existence became necessary, those which could get a cross with outside races became more vigorous in their progeny, and thus had an advantage in the struggle. In brief, without an occasional introduction of new blood, as it might be termed, there was danger of a race dying out. To support this view, Mr. Darwin published the result of a number of experiments. Many of them favored either side, but the average was in favor of the view that crossing was advantageous. Against this it has been urged that an average in such cases is not conclusive. If a number, though the minor number of cases, showed superiority by close breeding in his limited experiments, a new set of observations might have changed the averages, so as to make the minor figures in one instance the major in others. Again, it is contended that to increase a plant by other means than by seeds must be the closest kind of reproduction; yet some plants, coeval with the history of man, have been continued by offsets and are as strong and vigorous as ever. The Banana is an illustration. Under cultivation it produces only seedless fruits. It is raised wholly from young suckers or offsets from the roots. Mythology gives it a prominent place in the Garden of Eden, and its botanical name, Musa paradisiaca, originated in this legend.

Though much has been recorded in this line to weaken the force of the speculations that flowers late in the history of the earth developed color and sweet secretions in order to attract insects to aid in cross-fertilization, they are strongly supported by the fact that a large number of species, notably of orchids, are seldom fertilized without insect aid in pollination.

But there are anomalies even here. Some plants capture and literally eat the insects that should be regarded as their benefactors. These are classified as insectivorous plants. Some seem to catch the insects in mere sport, while in the act of conveying pollen to them. These are known as cruel plants. There are numerous illustrations of this among the families of Asclepias and Apocynum, the milk-weed family. In our gardens a Brazilian climber, Arauga, or Physianthus albens, is frequently grown for its waxy flowers and delicious odor, but the treacherous blossoms are frequently strung with the insects it has caught.

In the northern part of America a common wild flower of one of these families, Apocynum androsmæfolium, has this insect-catching habit. Numerous small insects meet death, and hang to the flowers like scalps to the wild Indian.

Considerable advance has been made in vegetable physiology, though no one has as yet been able to reach the origin of the life-power in plants. The power that enables an oak to maintain its huge branches in a horizontal direction, or that can lift or overturn huge rocks, or split them apart as the lightning rifts a tree trunk, is yet unknown. On the opposite page is an illustration of a circumstance frequently observed, wherein even a delicate root fibre can pierce a potato or other structures.

BANANA FLOWERS.

Possibly the greatest botanical advance of the century is in relation to cryptogamic plants, those low organisms which as mildews and moulds are most familiar to people generally. As microscopes increase in power, new forms are discovered. Over forty thousand species have already been described, and we may fairly say that there are nearly half as many forms of vegetable life invisible to the naked eye as can be seen by our unaided visual organs. Their wants and behaviors are very much the same as in the flowering plants or higher orders, as they are usually termed. But there is one great difference in this, that they feed mainly on nitrogen, and have no use for carbon. They care little for light, but yet have an upward tendency under certain forms, as do those which seek the light. The agarics that revel in the darkness of a coal mine, yet curve upward as heartily as a corn sprout in the open air. Just as in flowering plants, also, they are mostly innocuous, and indeed many absolutely beneficial to man, a very small portion only being poisonous, or connected with the diseases of the human race. Even in these cases their power is closely guarded by nature. The spores of fungi are found to require such a nice combination of conditions before they germinate, that, unless these occur, they will retain their vegetative power many years in a state of absolute rest. The mycelium of the mushroom, as the real plant—the cobwebby portion under ground—only starts to grow when just so many degrees of heat, neither more nor less, with just so much moisture, and the proper food, are all at hand together; and large numbers are known to be very select in the kind of food they will make use of at all. One genus, known as Cordyceps, will only start when the spore comes in contact with the head of a caterpillar. And various species of the genus will avoid a kind of caterpillar that another would enjoy. In our own country we have one that feeds on the larvae of the May Beetle, and is known as Cordyceps Melolonthæ. In Australia is a very pretty species, which takes on the appearance of the antlers of a deer. This is known as Cordyceps Andrewsii.

THE CRUEL-PLANT.

Butterfly caught in the flower.

OLD POTATO PENETRATED BY ROOTLET WITH A NEW POTATO.

The most minute of these are known as microbes. They are chiefly composed of a single cell, in the midst of which is the protoplasm, or material in which life resides, but the exact nature of which is still a mystery.

A FUNGUS (Cordyceps Andrewsii) GROWING FROM THE HEAD OF A CATERPILLAR.

A FUNGUS (Cordyceps Andrewsii) GROWING FROM THE HEAD OF A CATERPILLAR.

One of the most useful and fascinating studies in modern times is Geographical Botany. It is found to have a close relation to the history of man, and to the changes which have occurred on the surface of the earth. Plants follow man wherever he wanders; and though every other trace of man should be abolished on the American continent, the plants that came with him from the Old World would enable the future historian to follow his tracks here pretty well. No one has any historical evidence that what is now the Pacific Ocean was once land, and that the area between the Pacific Ocean and the Mississippi was once a huge sea, but botany tells the plain story. Only for botany we should not know that the land now serving as the poles was once within the tropics; and mainly by fossil gum trees on the American continent, and the existence still of a few plants common to Australia, have we the knowledge of some land connection between these distant shores. Island floras, some of the species of which are now found only in very limited areas, tell of large tracts submerged of which only the mountain peaks are left as small islands, lonely in a wide expanse of water, while other islands, with only a limited number of well known species, tell of new upheavals within modern times.

It is in these lines chiefly that botany has advanced during the century. Herbariums for dry and botanic gardens for living plants are essential. The latter are not as necessary to the study as formerly, as the facilities for travel bring the votaries of the science to distant places in a short time. Nature furnishes the living material for study at a less outlay of time and money than in the old way of growing the plants for the purpose. Few modern botanic gardens have the fame of those of the past. It is the great Herbarium of Kew, rather than the living plants, that makes that famous spot the great school for botany to-day. In our own country, the Herbariums of Cambridge, Mass.; Columbia College, New York; the National at Washington; and that of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, are the most famous in America.

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PROGRESS OF WOMEN WITHIN THE CENTURY
By MARY ELIZABETH LEASE,
Ex-President Kansas State Board of Charities.

The whole woman question may be briefly summed up as a century-old struggle between conservatism and progress. Women are moving irregularly, and perhaps illogically, along certain lines of development toward a point that will probably be reached; while conservatism, halting and fearful, is struggling blindly to hold points and maintain lines that must be given up.

Unfortunately for the rapidity of women’s advancement, women themselves have no thoroughness, no clearness, as to the fundamental cause of their grievances or the ends to be attained, and are not yet alive to a consciousness of the fact that the question of woman’s rights is simply and purely a question of human rights, the basic solution of which, on the broad plane of justice, will solve all the social, political, and industrial problems of which the woman question forms a part.

The time when woman suffered silently and toiled patiently without once questioning the justice of her lot has happily passed forever. Confusion and antagonism are engendered because of misunderstanding of the real movement. Women are consciously or unconsciously struggling for that selfhood which has hitherto been denied them, and are seeking for opportunity to develop that personality which Browning, Ruskin, and other broad thinkers declare “is the good of the race.” The most discouraging feature of the situation is the fact that women as a whole do not realize that a politically inferior class is a degraded class; a disfranchised class, an oppressed class; and that her economic dependence upon man is the basic cause of her inferiority.

The grievances openly proclaimed by the advocates of woman suffrage as causes of hostility are too frequently childish, unreasonable, and unworthy of serious attention. In the majority of cases they centre around some fancied wrong that is a result rather than a cause. The keynote not only to the woman question, but to the labor question may be found in the words of that deep thinker and able writer, August Bebel: “The basis of all oppression is economic dependence upon the oppressor.” The widespread discontent with present social conditions is an augury of hope for the future. There is no element in the unrest which need excite grave apprehension. Thoughtful people perceive clearly that women are intensely human, nothing more, and that as human beings they are entitled not only to food, clothes, and shelter, but to an opportunity for development.

It is only as we are familiar with the oppression that has been the common lot of women since the beginning of time that we can realize that her lot has been sweetened, her condition ameliorated, and her progress within the century marvelous indeed. The woman question, historically considered, contains all the physical subjugation and consequent inferiority which constituted all the differentiation between the physical and mental powers of men and women. It contains all the humiliation, uncertainty, and ultimate hope of her future. The history of the woman question is analogous with the history of the labor question, with the difference that woman slavery had its origin in the peculiarities of her sexual being, while the laborer’s slavery began when he was robbed of the land which is the birthright of every human being. It will be seen, therefore, that woman’s slavery antedates the thralldom of the thrall, and “was more humiliating, more degrading, because she was treated and regarded by the laborer as his servant, his inferior.” This condition largely prevails among laborers to-day, and was indirectly given utterance to a few weeks ago, when some of the members of the American Federation of Labor formulated a traditional resolution demanding that “women be excluded from all public work and relegated to the home,”—a demand that would be to some extent reasonable, and no doubt acceptable, to the great army of working-women, had the chivalrous laborers who formulated the demand the ability and industry to provide a home for the women whom they would render paupers by deprivation of work, and for the children for whom their fathers were unable to provide. It is gratifying to know that this resolution was lost in the committee room, and that its formulation was greeted by the press of the whole country with a storm of deserved disapproval.

Inasmuch as the rapidly increasing number of bread-winners among women makes it evident that men are either unable or incompetent to provide for them, it remains for the working-women of the country to formulate a resolution demanding that men be excluded from all work that has hitherto been considered as belonging to or peculiarly adapted to women. What an army of mosquito-legged men from the eating-houses, laundries, and dry-goods establishments would rise up to proclaim the idiocy of women and protest against such injustice!

On the threshold of the world’s morning, says a distinguished writer and worker in the German Reichstag of to-day, we may correctly assume that woman was man’s equal in mental and physical power. But she became his inferior physically, and consequently dependent upon his bounty, during periods of pregnancy, childbirth, and child-rearing, when her helplessness forced her to look to him for food and shelter. In the childhood of the race might made right; brute strength was the standard of superiority; the struggle for existence was crude and savage; and thus this occasional helplessness became the manner of her bondage.

That nature is primarily responsible for the centuries of woman’s enslavement there can be no doubt. And as nature’s laws are unchanging, the advocates of woman’s political advancement would do well to remember that woman’s greatest importance as a public factor can only begin when the function of motherhood ceases. “In a real sense, as a factory is meant to turn out locomotives or clocks, the machinery of nature is designed in the last resort to turn out mothers. Life to the human species is not a random series of random efforts; its course is set as rigidly as the pathway of the stars; its laws are as immutable as the laws of the Medes and Persians.” (Drummond’s Ascent of Man.)

Nature’s great work for the individual is reproduction and care of the species. The first, Drummond terms the cosmic process; the second, the moral process. Statistics show that one child out of every three dies before maturity, and nature’s task is incomplete unless at least two children be reared to the adult age by every family. Every couple, then, at marriage, assumes the responsibility to society and posterity of bringing three children into the world. Woman’s part in the stupendous economy of nature is first and distinctively most important, that of motherhood. She can only pay her debt to nature, fulfill her mission to the world, and discharge her obligations to humanity by faithfully discharging the duties of motherhood. But as the function of motherhood ceases when the woman is in the prime of life, ripened by experience and fortified by maternal ties, she may yet have ample opportunity to exert her far-reaching influence in public work when she has exemplified in her own life the words, Home, Love, Mother. And there is, there can be, no rational objection to granting the fullest suffrage to woman at this period.

MARY ELIZABETH LEASE

Having located the basic cause of her dependence, it will be seen that the only solution possible for the complete emancipation and mental and physical development of woman is to render her, through industrial freedom, so economically independent in every way of man’s grudging bounty that she will scorn his pity, resent his abuse, and claim her right to fullest individuality and opportunity as a human being.

For countless ages women were separated from the world by a barrier as effective as the myriad-miled wall of China; vacillating between the condition of slave and superintendent of the kitchen; taught nothing but those flimsy accomplishments that would catch the eye of the prospective husband and master; sneered at, ridiculed, and abused whenever she attempted to cross the line which hoary prophets and patriarchal slaveholders had marked across her path; subject to man’s whim and caprice; her physical development, in time, became meagre and crippled. And as her mental faculties were repressed and imprisoned in the narrowest circle of feminine opinions, it became difficult for her to rise above the most commonplace trivialities of life. Thus it came about that the term “Weaker Sex,” originally used to convey only the acknowledged truth that women are inferior to men in physical strength, came to include the mind as well as body. Be this as it may, the position of women for long centuries was inevitably one of extreme cruelty and oppression. Countless bitter and unnecessary limitations hedged her pathway and obstructed her development from the cradle to the grave. It is not to be wondered at that she in time became so inured to her degrading servitude as to accept it as her natural position. Madame De Staël has truly said, “Of all the gifts and faculties which nature has lavishly bestowed upon woman, she has been allowed to exercise fully but one, the faculty to suffer.” The extent of this suffering and the deteriorating influence which it has exerted upon the race can never be estimated till Finis is written to the story of humanity.

In the noonday of Grecian power and learning, woman trod not beside man as helpmate and companion, but followed as his slave. Demosthenes defines the wife as the “bearer of children, the faithful watch-dog who guards the house for her master.” At the Council of Macon, held in the sixth century, the question of the soul and humanity of women was gravely weighed and debated, profound doctors of theology maintaining that “woman is not a subject but an object for man’s use and pleasure.” For centuries theological divines whetted their wit on helpless woman; and the church in holy zeal persecuted the woman who was guilty of a fault as a “daughter of the devil,” and held her up to public contumely as the concentration of all evil.

Christianity, indeed, offered emancipation to women. It proclaimed a startling doctrine,—the equality of the rich and the poor, the weak and the strong, in the sight of God the Father. And it became evident that such teachings would inevitably break down the barriers of class and caste, eliminate injustice, and usher in a time when all should stand equal before the law. But alas, the world, with the exception of isolated and individual instances, has never been offered an opportunity to test the efficacy of the all-corrective principles of the religion which Christ gave to the world. The repression of women biased the reformatory tendencies of Christianity, and rendered it as ineffective as a medium of relief to the oppressed as our one-sided political system of to-day. Christianity, under masculine domination, was lost in the rubbish of churchianity, which, professing but failing to practice the religion of Christ, has held woman in the same contempt in which she has been held by all the ancient and idolatrous religions of the world. Yet despite the fact that the great Master, were He to come to-day, would scarcely recognize in the churches a trace of the code which He lived and died to exemplify, it must not be forgotten that the vital principle of religion never dies. It eventually attains fullest development, and becomes identified with the progress of civilization and the highest purpose of a people. Therefore, we may reverently believe that in the ultimate triumph and rehabilitation of practical Christianity lies the hope of the oppressed, and true liberty not only for women, but for every human being.

Emma Willard

Even now the mists are lifting. The great change in the position of women—legal, social, and educational—within a hundred years is breaking even the hard shell of orthodox usage. Whole denominations have dropped the word “obey” from the marriage service. Many ministers frequently omit it, or, if administered, it is pronounced by the bride with mental reservation and looked upon as a word that has only the most remote and shadowy significance. The new wine is breaking the old bottles; the spirit of the nineteenth century is too progressive for the usages and traditions of the eleventh century. Modern churchianity, realizing that women constitute three fourths of its membership, no longer wages a merciless warfare upon them. It has relaxed its Pauline grip upon her throat, “I suffer not a woman to speak in the churches.” And the more advanced theological bodies have offered her the intellectual hospitality of the pulpit, where her eloquence is a pleasing change to those who have grown tired of preachers’ platitudes. Clerical decrees are no longer hurled at her defenseless head. The doors of churches, schools, and colleges are swinging wide at her approach, though they sometimes creak on their hinges. The ministers no longer openly advocate that the gates of opportunity be bolted and barred against her. There is everything to stimulate hope; the wings of feminine nature have expanded till a return to the chrysalis is impossible.

It is true that a very large number yet profess to believe that a woman fulfills her whole mission in the world when she makes herself as pretty and agreeable as possible, and devotes all her time and attention to the discharge of domestic duties. But there has been a wonderful modification of opinion since Schopenhauer declared that “woman is not called to great things. She pays her debt to life by the throes of birth, care of the children, and subjection to her husband.” Two things have tended to bring about this modification of opinion; the broader education and increased opportunities for development attendant upon the growth of individual liberty and republican forms of government; and the capability of self-maintenance due to improved mechanical appliances. It is not mere inclination on the part of the individual, nor is it the voice of the agitator, that is bringing about these changes; it is the irresistible logic of events.

One hundred years ago the education of women in the most progressive and wealthy families went little beyond reading and writing. In 1819, when Mrs. Emma Willard issued an address to the members of the New York legislature advocating the endowment of an institution for the higher education of women, there was not a college in the country for girls. In 1892, the colleges of the United States numbered more than 50,000 female students. In 1888, the ratio of female students to the whole number of students pursuing a higher course of education in universities and colleges in this country was 29.3 per centum, or a little more than one fourth. At the same time the ratio in England was 11 per centum; in France, 2 per centum; while in Germany, Austria, and Italy the ratio was so slight as to be but a mere fraction of 1 per centum.

Such a thing as a female president of a college was unknown and probably undreamed of in the eighteenth century; but we learn from the Report of the Commissioner of Education for 1887–88 that there are in the United States forty-two colleges and institutions for the superior instruction of women having a woman for president.

In the high and secondary schools, in 1888, over one half of the students were girls. And in the same year, tabulated statistics reveal that 63 per centum of the teachers were women. And this percentage will become greater and greater as we grasp the truth that woman is, by gift of greater intuition and sympathy, the natural instructor of the human race. The salaries paid to women teachers are grossly unfair when compared to the pay of male teachers for the same or less work. But as the difference in compensation is growing smaller every decade, there is at least room for hope that this injustice will soon be righted.

The law of evolution is the discoverer and formulator of woman’s advancement. The invention and use of gunpowder placed the peasant on an equal war-footing with the mailed knight. The enormous increase in mechanical appliances and productive machinery has taken woman out of the rank of unpaid menials, has given her leisure for mental development, opportunity to receive recompense for toil, and is largely breaking down the physical barriers which had hitherto been considered unsurmountable. Statistics show that there are forms of machinery in the operation of which the production of a woman is even greater than that of a man, thus furnishing an actual proof of the falsity of the idea that woman is incapacitated for competition with man in the physical world. And the trend of events is indicated by the statistics given in the Report of the Commissioner of Labor, from which we learn that in some trades and professions the percentage of women engaged has increased fivefold in the last decade.

While woman’s work has always been a recognized factor in the world’s progress, yet her admittance to the field of remunerative work is limited to the last one hundred years; is, in fact, the prominent feature of the nineteenth century. There is overwhelming evidence that her work in every department to which she has been admitted is as capable, acceptable, and in every way as faithfully performed as the work of her brother man. In the last century it is estimated that not more than 1 per centum of artists and teachers of art were women; while in 1890 women comprised 48.08 per centum, or nearly one half of that profession. Nearly the same proportion of increase is found in the ranks of teachers and musicians,—women now forming over 60 per centum of the teachers of the United States.

There are now about three million women and girls in this country who earn their own livelihood. And the eleventh census reveals the startling information that in the city of New York there are twenty-seven thousand men who are supported by their wives. Yet these men, useless to society, a burden to the women who support them, are permitted the immunities and privileges of law and custom, while women have equality only in the duties and punishments.

At the beginning of the eighteenth century there were but few occupations in which women were permitted to engage. Their abilities and ambitions were restricted to the school and the home. In the latter they received food and shelter as compensation; in the former, but one half or one third the salary allowed to male teachers. The first noticeable change in woman’s condition, when she became something more than a mere household drudge, whose busy hands carded and wove, spun and knit, the family supply of cloth, dates from the first bale of cotton grown in this country in the early years of the eighteenth century. In that bale of cotton lay the seeds of not only a new movement in labor, but the beginning of a new epoch for woman, in which her work and wages were destined to take coherent shape and form. In all industrial progress since that time women have taken an active part while receiving a meagre share of the product. Forced by the course of events to emerge from seclusion and repression, she has passed from one stage of development to another, always a step or two behind man in the progress of social evolution, till the close of the nineteenth century reveals myriad changes and the actual realization of Tennyson’s prophetic lines in the “Princess,” “We have prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans.”

GEORGE ELIOT.

One hundred years ago it was the duty of a woman to efface herself. She was expected to make of herself a mental blank-book upon which her husband might inscribe what he would. Thus it is only lately that women have begun actively to compete with men in expression of any kind. Indeed, previous to that time, with a few notable exceptions, they were denied recognition of individual life. The woman, if unmarried, was merged in the family, or, if married, merged in the husband. Her name, her religion, her gods, were changed on marriage. But, married or single, the absorption was complete. So it has happened that woman, throbbing with poetic sympathy, has, with the exception of Sappho, produced less high and unmistakable poetry than man. With more harmony, more music in her nature, her very soul attuned to symphony and rhythm, she has been little known as a composer. With far vision and clear literary insight, she has been suppressed in art and literature. George Eliot gave her sublime literary productions to the world under a masculine nom de plume, because of the prejudice of even that not remote day. Fanny Mendelssohn was compelled by her family to publish her musical compositions as her brother’s. Mary Somerville met only discouragement and ridicule in her mathematical studies. In every sphere, in every department of science and art, abuse, injustice, and the croaking of reactionary frogs have greeted each step of her upward way. The wonder is, then, not that she has accomplished so little, but that she is not in the same condition to-day that she was when Paul thrust a gag in her mouth in the shape of a Corinthian text, “And if a woman would learn anything, let her ask her husband at home.” It will be seen, therefore, that the oft-repeated assertion that women have not given to the world as much evidence of genius as men is a Lilliputian assertion tainted somewhat with envy. “There has been no Shakespeare among women,” says the advocates of man’s supremacy. With all the world as their own, and the gates of boundless opportunities swinging wide, there has been but one Shakespeare among men. It has been asserted that George Eliot is the Shakespeare among women and Mrs. Browning the counterpart of Bacon. But their immortality has not been tested. They lived but a little while ago. But there is one woman, at least, who has established her claim thoroughly, and whose genius twenty-five centuries have tested. Sappho is truly immortal. Her fame and genius have been sealed by the approval of all the great literati of the centuries. Coleridge, who occupies no uncertain place in the world of letters, says of her, “Of all the poets of the world, of all the illustrious artists of all literature, Sappho is the one whose every word has a peculiar and unmistakable poetic perfume, a seal of absolute perfection and illimitable grace.” Swinburne, the greatest living master in the world of verbal music, declares that, “Her verses are the supreme success, the final achievement, of poetic art.” Sappho’s claim to immortality exceeds that of Shakespeare’s by twenty-three hundred years.

Men, viewing the literary productions of women, are apt to give them the color and bias of masculine thought. As instance the poetic critic of a New York periodical, who wantonly affronts the gifted author of “Poems of Passion” by declaring that her “fervent verses are but the burning of unseemly stubble that fails to give forth light or heat.” Yet Ella Wheeler Wilcox, all fair-minded critics will admit, has won a place in the ranks of poetic genius. Her poems throb with human sympathy, and from the exalted plane of her splendid womanhood she reaches down, fulfilling the law of Christly service, to lift up the fallen and soothe and bind the bruised and bleeding. Such masculine criticism is dying out, but it has not been uncommon in the past. Mrs. Browning and Jane Austen were accused of “breaking down by their writings the safeguards of society,” and they were admonished to “cease their literary efforts and devote themselves to sewing and washing dishes if they would retain the chivalrous respect of men.” “Jane Eyre” was pronounced too immoral to be ranked as decent literature. “Adam Bede” was classed as the “vile outpourings of a lewd woman’s mind.” Yet Charlotte Brontë, George Eliot, Mrs. Browning, and Jane Austen have won an exalted and enviable place in the ranks of literature. Their writings have thrilled, uplifted, and sweetened humanity.

The test of literary genius is to create a character of universal acceptance. The record of half a century has but one world-wide, world-known character of that kind. That character was created by a woman. In all literature, no book since the Bible has been so widely circulated, so extensively translated, or has so thoroughly commanded the profound attention of all classes as Harriet Beecher Stowe’s “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” Mrs. Stowe impressed her genius upon the race and time, and marked a new epoch for freedom. Previous to the publication of her book only a few men recognized slavery as wrong, but a woman’s sympathetic heart and throbbing genius laid bare the evil and disclosed to a horrified world the wrong underlying slavery.

In philanthropy and the domain of morals there is none who is doing more heroic and effective work than Mrs. Elizabeth B. Grannis. She deals not with theories, but with real conditions. Her sympathies, her broad work, her manifold charities, go out to flesh and blood, men and women. She has the intuitive faculty of probing deep into human nature, leading those she would reform to mourn real defects, rejoice in real victories, and hope and struggle for better things.

FRANCES WILLARD.

The constantly broadening sphere of woman’s usefulness is in a large measure due to the organized forms of intellectual activity among women known as clubs. Half a century ago club-life for women was unknown. Their social sympathies were limited to the political party that claimed the franchise of their male relatives, or the church at whose shrine the women worshiped. But so rapid has been woman’s development in this direction that to-day women’s clubs form a chain from ocean to ocean, binding them as one great whole. The effect upon the members is magical; nature is enlarged; charity broadened; capacity for judgment increased; and hitherto unsuspected faculties are called into life and power.

The first organized demand by women for political recognition in the United States was made in 1848, at what was known as the Seneca Falls Convention. Ridiculed, persecuted, kicked like a football from one generation to another, this brave demand for political recognition was destined to become an agency that would work a peaceful revolution. That the movement is progressing, and will eventually succeed, is evinced by the record of half a century. In that time school suffrage has been granted in twenty-three States and Territories, partial suffrage for public improvements in three States, municipal suffrage in one, and in four States full political equality. Wyoming was the first State to accord citizenship to her women, and she bears testimony to its efficacy in the progress, honor, and sobriety of her people. In 1893, the Wyoming state legislature passed resolutions highly commendatory of woman suffrage and its results, and among other things said, “We point with pride to the fact that after nearly twenty-five years of woman suffrage, not one county in Wyoming has a poor-house, that our jails are almost empty, and crime, except that by strangers in the State, is almost unknown.”

From the banks of the far-off Volga come the good tidings that even Russia is preparing to take a great step in advance by granting to women many legal and political privileges now enjoyed only by men. England granted municipal suffrage to women a quarter of a century ago, and has more recently granted partial parliamentary suffrage. And to the influence of English law, more particularly the Married Women’s Act, is largely due the betterment of the legal status of women throughout the world. In England we find women prominent in art, literature, politics, the school and the church. While in this country the middle classes have heretofore carried on the suffrage agitation, in England it finds active workers among the peerage.

Woman in politics meets with the opposition of job politicians, but she realizes that every step of her progress, from the unveiling of her face to a seat in the legislature of a State, has been taken in the face of fierce opposition and in violation of conventionalities and customs. Undismayed she advances for the ultimate betterment of humanity.

The historian of the future will record the nineteenth century as the Renaissance of womankind. And the ultimate effect upon the human race of having individuals, not servants, as mothers will surpass the progress made in science and in art.

The eighteenth century found woman an appendage; the nineteenth transformed her into an individual. The wonderful altruistic twentieth century, whose dawn even now is breaking, will so develop this individuality that women will contend for all the rights of the individual, coöperating with the nation in the fulfillment of its mission, and with the world in the development of the eternal law of progress.

“Through the harsh voices of our day
A low, sweet prelude finds its way;
Through clouds of doubt and storms of fear
A light is breaking calm and clear.”

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THE CENTURY’S TEXTILE PROGRESS
By ROBERT P. HAINS,
Examiner of Textiles, U. S. Patent Office.

Antiquity conceals nothing more completely than the origin of the textile industry. Back in the dark ages and beyond authentic records, evidence is furnished that this art was not unknown. Egyptian mummies shrouded in fine linen fabrics give their silent testimony of ancient knowledge, but when or where the art had its inception still remains wrapped in mystery. Nearly every nation of the earth lays claim to its invention at some epoch in traditional existence. Thus the Chinese attribute it to the wife of their first emperor, the Egyptians to Isis, the Greeks to Minerva; but probably it had its birth in the Orient, where the making of cloth was known and practiced from the earliest times.

Whatever the merits of rival claimants, certain it is that for many centuries the simple distaff and spindle were the only instruments used for spinning, while the warp and weft were woven together by hand implements not less primitive in structure.

In the first spinning device, a mass of fibre was arranged on a forked stick, and, as drawn therefrom by hand, it was twisted between the fingers and wound on a spindle. During the reign of Henry VIII. of England, however, the spinning-wheel replaced the distaff and spindle, and in every cottage and palace it became an indispensable article of household equipment. The young women in all walks of life were taught to spin. Spinning became the female occupation of the age, and it is interesting to note that the modern term spinster, meaning an unmarried woman of advanced age, here had its origin.

The spinning-wheel, though superior to the distaff and spindle, was yet a crude machine. It consisted of a stand on which was mounted in horizontal bearings a spindle driven by a band from a large wheel propelled by hand or foot, and as twist was imparted to the fibre drawn through the fingers, the resulting yarn was wound on the spindle.

The art of weaving was not more advanced. It is true that the middle of the eighteenth century found the hand loom developed from the original Indian structure to contain many of the essentials of the modern power loom. It embodied the heddles, the lay, the take-up and let-off beams, the shuttle for passing the weft, and in 1740, John Kay added the fly shuttle motion, whereby the shuttle was thrown through the shed by a sudden pull on the picking stick; then in 1760, Robert Kay, son of John Kay, invented the drop box, whereby several colors of filling might be employed.

Brilliant as these achievements were, the hand loom remained the crude embodiment of the simple principles of weaving until near the dawn of the nineteenth century, when, by the invention of Cartwright, a period of development was introduced in all lines of textile manufacture unsurpassed in the annals of industrial progress. The first great stride, and that which opened the door for further advance, was the creation of the spinning-jenny, in England, by Hargreaves, about 1767, whereby eight or ten yarns could be spun at one time. Drawing rollers were subsequently added by Arkwright, and then traverse motion was given the bobbins in order to automatically build the yarn into a cop. It has developed since that the drawing-rollers constituted one of the most important fundamental improvements in the spinning art. Their function was to draw out the fibres into a proper size of roving, and to feed this to be spun. Without them the modern spinning-frame would not have been possible. Arkwright’s drawing-rollers and Hargreaves’s spinning-jenny combined under the invention of Crompton to produce, in principle at least, the modern spinning-mule.

DISTAFF AND SPINDLE.

Fairly good machines were thus provided on the advent of the nineteenth century for spinning unlimited quantities of yarn, but this, in turn, required proper loom structures to use the same and a corresponding supply of raw material. Inventive genius was abroad, and the necessity met by Eli Whitney, who, while at the home of General Greene, of Georgia, built the first practical machine for separating cotton fibre from its seed.

Whitney’s gin was constructed on the broad and simple principle that cotton fibre could be drawn through a smaller space than the attached seed, and this same principle is the soul and spirit of every saw-gin of the present day. Prior to Whitney’s gin, cotton fibre was separated from the seed by hand, a day’s work being represented by two or three pounds of cleaned fibre. The daily product of the gin now reaches between three and four thousand pounds.

SPINNING WHEEL.

Such figures demonstrate the important position taken by the cotton gin among the developing agents of the cotton growing States. It has rendered possible and profitable the cultivation of large districts of otherwise waste lands; it has stimulated cotton production; given employment to thousands of idle hands; cheapened the price of cotton cloths, and placed within the reach of the humblest people wearing apparel of fine and beautiful texture.

Unlimited supply of raw material being thus provided, attention reverted to perfecting the machines for spinning it, and under the magical touch of Richard Roberts, of Manchester, England, in 1830, the crude mule of Crompton took practical shape. He gave to it the quadrant winding motion, provided for the harmonious working of the counter and copping faller wires, perfected the “backing off” and “drawing up” mechanisms, and gave attention to construction of details that placed the mule before the world as a practical success.

Equipped in its present form, the self-acting mule presents one of the most striking examples of complex automatic mechanisms that can be found in the industrial world. The work of the attendant is confined to piecing broken ends and supplying roving, the machine passing through the entire cycle of its complicated movements without human direction. An idea may be had of its delicate and accurate operation when it is considered that one pound of cotton has been spun by it into a thread one hundred and sixty-seven miles long. Improvements have been made, indeed, on Roberts’s mule, but aside from changes in details and form, the machine, as it left the hands of this mechanical genius in 1830, remains unchanged.

PRIMITIVE HAND LOOM.

During this period, the fly frame was developed from the machines of Hargreaves and Arkwright, but while it constituted a great advance over these machines, it presented no radical departure in principle.

We may pause here, as we pass through the third decade of the present century, to witness the introduction of a spinning-frame, which, for originality of conception and far reaching influence on the textile industry, closely approximates the achievements of the pioneer inventions of this art. Reference is made to the ring frame in which the flyer is omitted, the bobbin being attached to the spindle and revolving with it. On the traverse rail, and surrounding each bobbin, is secured a flanged ring having loosely sprung thereon a light traveler, through which the yarn, as it comes from the drawing-rolls, is led to the bobbin. Revolution of the bobbin carries the traveler around the ring imparting twist to the yarn, and as it is spun it is wound on the bobbin in proportion to the feed of the drawing-rolls.

The invention of this machine is attributed to John Thorpe, of Rhode Island, in 1828, and so popular did it become by reason of decreased power necessary to drive it, incidental to the omission of the flyers, and good quality of yarn produced, that, between 1860 and 1865, it nearly replaced all other machines in America for spinning cotton.

The speed of the ring frame, as well as its output, appeared unbounded; but at high speeds, under unbalanced loads, the spindles were found to vibrate in their bearings, and the quality of yarn, in consequence, degenerated, the spindle bearings became worn, and the limit seemed to be reached at five thousand revolutions per minute. A careful examination of the ring frame revealed no vulnerable part of its general structure that could be improved so as to readily secure increased speed and steadiness of the spindles when unevenly loaded; but with admirable foresight, developing intellects set to improve the spindles themselves, and, in 1871, Jacob H. Sawyer introduced and patented a spindle and bearing, which was one of the most important improvements in the ring frame. He chambered the bobbin, and by carrying the bolster T well up inside supported the former near its load centre.

EARLY SPINNING JENNY.

The evolution of the spindle was not yet complete. The Sawyer type, at more than seven thousand revolutions, would vibrate, and of the many attempts to cure the defect none succeeded fully until the very simple change made by Mr. Rabbeth in 1878. He gave the spindle a small amount of play by making the bolster loose in its supporting case, and placed a packing between the two.

A. H. Sherman improved upon the Rabbeth structure by making the bolster and step in one piece and omitting the packing, the cushioning being dependent upon the lubricating oil.

GINNING COTTON. THE OLD WAY, PRIOR TO 1800.

GINNING COTTON. THE NEW WAY.

The acme of development in this small but most important part of the ring frame was now reached; and in its approved form it embodies the sleeve whirl extending into the bobbin, the loose, yet adjustable bolster, tapering spindle, removable step, and lubricating reservoir. Such spindles are capable of unlimited speeds,—twenty thousand revolutions per minute have been given,—and under absurdly unbalanced loads they run steadily and with less expenditure of power than the older forms at their slower speeds.

Increased speed in the spindles, however, brought increased breakage in the yarn, and although stop motion devices had been employed for several years, yet economy demanded ready means of piecing broken ends. This has been provided recently by mounting the stop clamp upon the roving rod well up near the first pair of drawing rolls, so that on pulling the stop wire into place the roving is at once fed between the drawing rolls and issues in front, over the spindle, to be easily pieced by one hand. Prior to this, the operative was required to reach over the machine, feed the roving to the rolls with one hand, hold the stop wire down with the other, and the broken end of yarn in his teeth.

THE MODERN MULE.

Excessive ballooning was also incidental to the use of high speed spindles, and, while inventive skill has never mastered it, yet the injurious effects have been obviated by an ingenious mounting of separators, one between each two spindles.

Aside from minor details perfecting the mechanical construction, such has been the evolution of the modern spinning frame. In 1830, it required the constant attention of one spinner to oversee twenty slow-running spindles, whereas, in 1896, the same attendant could, with less effort, “tend” seventy-five or more of the high speed type; and whereas, in 1790, when the first American cotton mill was established by Samuel Slater in Rhode Island, there were only seventy-five spindles on cotton fibre, in 1830, the number had increased to 1,246,703, and in 1890, to 14,188,103.

Under such competition no wonder the spinning-wheel of our grandmothers has followed the economic law, that the fittest alone survive, and has been relegated to the wood-pile or garret, or, bedecked with ribbons, finds a resting-place in the chimney-corner as a decorated curiosity. Its mighty rival is here. Its attendants have been liberated to more ennobling pursuits. The homespun has been replaced by beautiful fabrics, and the monster spinning frames of to-day pour forth their hourly product in miles of spun fibre, where the wheels of our grandmothers were taxed to the utmost to produce a very small fraction of the amount. To appreciate the wonderful change, pause beside the domestic wheel used within the memory of the living, and compare its “whirr,” in slowly producing its single thread, to the “buzz” of the modern spinning frame turning out its product from a thousand spindles.

HAND COMB OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

The production of yarn required something more than spinning. The fibres in the massed cotton or wool, as delivered to the manufacturer, must be opened, untangled, straightened out, and laid parallel by a series of preparing machines prior to being spun, among which the carding engine ranks first. In the incipient form, this machine dates as far back as the middle of the eighteenth century, when, by hand manipulation, two cylinders covered with small teeth and working in close proximity disintegrated the fibrous mass; but the fibres were much broken and not evenly arranged. The addition of the workers and strippers around a rapidly revolving swift gave increased utility to the machine, and Bramwell’s feed, in 1871, so regulated the amount of fibre fed at intervals that the resulting lap possessed the desired even character. This feed weighs the fibre as it is fed, stops the lifting apron while the scale pan dumps its load, resets the scale pan, and automatically starts the lifting apron to again feed the scale,—a cycle of operations indicating a near approach to human intelligence.

One additional machine at least, the comb, requires notice before passing to the all-important progress made in the loom structure. With advancing civilization and refinement came demands for superior fabrics, which could only be answered by a supply of better fibre. Such fibre could only be secured from the bale by separating the long from the short, a problem well calculated to tax the ingenuity of an enlightened age. Attempts had been made to do this by hand implements not unlike the curry-comb of to-day, except that the teeth were long and tapering. This remained the only means employed for years, while other textile machinery passed through its phenomenal period of development. At last, in 1841, it occurred to Heilman, while watching a lady comb her hair, that a machine might be constructed to comb wool by drawing a bunch of fibres over pins. He constructed a device on this principle, and in a developed form it is used still and known as the Heilman or nip comb.

NOBLE COMB OF 1890.

In 1853, James Noble gave to the world the circle comb, wherein two flat circular rings, having projecting from one face vertical pins, were mounted, one eccentrically within the other, and revolved in the same direction, the object being to dab the fibre on the rings where they met; and then as they revolved and separated the short fibre would be drawn off the large ring, leaving the long fibre freed from the short. These machines were successful, and above all they were practical—the operation of the hand comber disappeared from the face of the earth.

The sudden birth and rapid development of mechanically perfect means for preparing and spinning fibres were due largely to the comparatively simple movements required to draw and twist the yarn, but in the loom no such problem was presented. Here the movements were complicated and varied, and the application of power to the manipulation of the delicate threads was not susceptible of sudden and successful solution. The warps, stretched in a sheet between two beams, had to be opened to form the shed, the shuttle had to be passed therethrough, the weft beaten to place, and means provided to feed the warp and to take up of the fabric an amount at each beat-up corresponding to the size of the weft. These were the movements necessary in the most simple kind of weaving, and though fully understood for many centuries, as evidenced by the Indian and Egyptian looms, and as embodied in hand machines of the seventeenth century, it was not till 1787 that they were clothed with the application of power. Even then the first embodiment did not emanate from the hands of a weaver or engineer, but from Dr. Cartwright, a clergyman in the church of England. It was not surprising that these looms failed of their expectations, for the shuttle would frequently get trapped in the shed, the driven power-lay would break out the warp threads, the take-up and let-off motions were not graduated to compensate for the decrease of the warp and increase of the cloth beams, resulting in thin and thick places in the cloth. But this application of power to the loom was the initial step in the industrial supremacy of the machine, which to-day works with the perfect cadence of an automaton.

PLAIN POWER LOOM, 1840.

The first years of the present century were of unsurpassed activity in the inventive field. The spinners were putting forth more yarn than the hand-looms could use. It remained for the loom to keep pace with the times. Miller, in 1800, Todd and Horrocks in 1803, Johnston in 1807, Cotton in 1810, Taylor in 1815, and many others, concentrated their efforts to develop the plain power-loom; but the second decade of the present century saw the old hand-loom with its slow and cumbrous movements still mistress of the art.

The name of Richard Roberts stands preëminent at this period, between 1820 and 1825, as giving to the power-loom several perfecting touches in the means for letting off the warp the small amount necessary at each pick, the means for taking up the finished cloth, the means for shedding the warp for the passage of the shuttle, and the adaptation of the stop motions of his predecessors. These changes gave practical life to the machine, and overthrew the barrier that obstructed the advance of the textile industry. They were, however, only a few of the improvements added in perfecting the power-loom, such as the automatic temple to hold the cloth extended and prevent drawing of the weft, the shuttle-guard to prevent accidental jumping of the shuttle from the race, the perfect weft-stop to bring the loom to a stand on breakage or failure of the weft, the protector mechanism to obviate a “smash” when the shuttle failed to box, and the loose reed, all of which stand out in bold relief as evidences of the progressive tendencies of the age, and combined in about the year 1838, more than a half century after Cartwright’s first conception of the idea, to complete the practical power-loom.

The loom had not reached a stage of mechanical perfection; much yet remained to be done, but the plain power-loom of this period was both a practical and financial success. By its immediate predecessor, the hand-loom, a good weaver and assistant could work from forty to fifty picks per minute, and weave plain cloth. By the power-loom of 1840, one weaver could “tend” two looms running from 100 to 120 picks per minute and produce the same cloth. Without passing through the various steps which culminated in the power-loom for plain cloth, now in use, and tracing the causes that led to perfection of details, the amazing advance from the ancient and 18th-century hand loom to the power-loom of 1840 and that of to-day may well be shown by comparing the machines themselves.

Such was the simple form of the power-loom. One half of the warps were alternately raised and lowered for the shot of weft; but as a woven fabric is one in which the warp and weft are united by passing them over and under each other, the figure or pattern of the cloth will be varied as the threads are crossed in different combinations, and this will depend on the order of raising and lowering the warp threads, and the introduction of different characters and colors of weft. This brings up for review the most important parts of the loom structure—the shedding mechanism and shuttle-box motions—through whose agencies the most beautiful and complicated designs are produced.

WEAVING. THE OLD WAY.

WEAVING. THE NEW WAY.

Shedding mechanism was present of course in all looms, but in the power-looms of the early part of this century it was confined to tappets adjusted on a revolving shaft, and the number of heddles was limited to six or eight. Fairly good twills and other like fabrics could be produced within the limits of the few heddles, but with the introduction of the “dobbie,” or that part of the loom which raises and lowers the harness-frames, a new era in fancy weaving was inaugurated. By this ingenious device as many as thirty-six or even forty heddles could be used and raised at will to form figures. The creation of the dobbie belongs to the 19th century, and it is found in practical form about 1863 in the United States under the name of the American or Knowles dobbie. The essentials are the two cylinder gears revolving constantly, the vibrating gears, carried on the end of pivoted arms and having teeth on a part of their periphery, the harness jacks connected to the heddle frames, and the links joining the vibrating gears and harness jacks in such manner that part revolution of the former causes the latter to move the connected heddle frame, and consequently the warp threads, up or down. A pattern chain determines what vibrator gears shall engage the cylinder gears, and, once the chain is fitted to the design to be woven, nothing remains for the loom tender but to oversee the operation of the machine.

LOOM OF 1890.

Another form of dobbie, not less popular than the Knowles, developed into a perfect automatic device about fifty years ago in England. Here two reciprocating knives are engaged, under the direction of a pattern chain, by one of two hooked jacks connected to the harness levers, and the shed is again formed without human intervention. Other forms of dobbie structures have been evolved during the last fifty years, but these two, with some modifications and additions of details, have come extensively into practical use, and represent the zenith of development at the present time. By their aid great variety is rendered possible in the design on the resulting fabric. The figured tablecloths, damasks, twills, satins, bordered and cross-bordered fabrics, are now possible at a cost of a thousandth part only of that incurred when produced by any of the old types of machines.

JACQUARD MACHINE.

The subject of shedding, i. e., of opening the warp-threads to afford a passage for the shuttle, is so inseparably connected with the name of Jacquard, that attention is now carried to that wonderful invention evolved in the first few years of the present century, and by the use of which it may truly be said that anything can be woven as figure in a fabric that can be designed by the hand of man. It is as well adapted for the finest silks as for heavy carpets and figured velvets, and by an operation theoretically so simple as to excite wonder that it remained hidden until this age. Jacquard was a native of France and exhibited his machine complete in 1804, but so bitter was the opposition that the first machine was destroyed and burned. Its merits were clear, however, and reconstruction and general adoption in France followed soon after. It has since been applied not only for shedding but for every purpose where mechanical operations could be controlled by a pattern. In brief, this machine simply controls each warp thread separately by a cord having a hook attached. These hooks are arranged near the path of a reciprocating griffe or frame carrying cross bars, and are controlled, as to engagement with the bars, by a card perforated according to a pattern; thus any one or any number of threads can be raised at will. The dobbie controls harness frames each carrying a large number of warp threads; the Jacquard controls every thread separately. The greatly increased capacity of the latter machine is apparent. Thus a 1500-hook Jacquard will do the work of thirty dobbies of fifty jacks each.

The hand-shuttle box mechanism of Kay’s time has developed into the machine operated as a sliding or revolving shuttle-box controlled by pattern devices, which, being added to a dobbie or Jacquard equipped loom within the last twenty-five years, presents the highest point of perfection attained in the textile art. In such looms the warp threads, arranged in any colors, may be raised at will collectively or individually, any one of ten or twelve different colored wefts may be introduced as desired, and combinations may thus be formed to produce designs of the most complicated nature.

Pile fabrics, cut, uncut, and tufted, represent a type quite distinct from those produced on the ordinary fancy loom just described, and, in the form of velvets, imitation animal skins, and Brussels carpet, were almost unknown prior to the invention of Samuel Bigelow of Boston, in 1837. Fabrics of this character, if made at all, were the products of tedious hand methods, and on account of the consequent high price were the exclusive property of the very wealthy. Carpets with pile surface had been made by the Persians and Turks ages ago, by tying pieces of woolen yarn around longitudinal or warp threads, and binding the whole together by a weft at intervals; and such tufts, being carefully selected as to color, were made to present rich designs, but, like all other hand-produced fabrics, these were the property of the few.

The pile fabric loom of Bigelow opened the way for an advance in the carpet industry which continues to the present time; its ultimate effect being to place carpets within the reach of the humble cottager; and floors which were strewn with brush, or at best concealed by the home-made rag carpet, now became covered by a soft and beautifully figured fabric. This loom was a practical machine, and at once commended itself to the manufacturer. It consisted of the old power-loom provided with a Jacquard, already well understood, to which was added an attachment to introduce wires at intervals as false weft, and bind the warp around them by the usual weft threads. The wires being withdrawn after a few shots had been woven, left the warp loops standing, and these loops being formed under the dictates of the Jacquard, any character of beautiful design could be produced. Velvets, brocades, even the fine imitation of sealskin, are the simple products of this form of power-loom when the pile loops are cut. Greater cheapness in weaving cut pile fabrics has been secured by a slight modification in the Bigelow loom, so that two fabrics could be woven at one time. This idea was introduced about 1850, and it contemplated weaving the two fabrics face to face, keeping them separated by the usual pile wires of Bigelow, and passing the pile threads from one fabric to the other. Upon cutting the two cloths apart through the threads uniting them, two cut pile or velvet fabrics resulted. This loom required the service of two shuttles and double the number of warp-beams, but it worked well, and is to-day largely in use and well adapted to its purpose.

SMITH AND SKINNER LOOM FOR MOQUETTE CARPETS.

The demand for tufted pile fabrics, meaning those in which the pile is formed from tufts or yarns, individually tied to the foundation fabric, and of which the rich Turkish and Persian rugs are examples, had not been met by the Bigelow loom; in fact it was only about forty years ago that the mechanical production of such fabrics became possible. Smith and Skinner were the pioneers to enter this field, and the first, by the aid of machinery, to compete with the cheap hand-labor of the orientals. The invention of a machine that will select any desired color from a large number of yarns, carry it between the warp-threads at the exact spot necessary to form the figure, tie it around these threads, cut it off to the length necessary to form an even and smooth surface, return the unused portion to place, and do all quickly, accurately, and with little cost, is an achievement that may rightly claim the admiration of the industrial world. Yet this is what the machine inaugurated by Smith and Skinner does to-day. The general movements and complicated parts of the power-loom are present as for weaving a plain fabric, and on beams or large spools carried by a chain, under the control of a pattern, are arranged the tuft yarns, in the order in which they should appear in the figure. Through the pattern devices the proper spool or beam is brought into position to be seized by a pair of fingers which rise, take the spool from the chain, lower it to the warp, pass the ends of the tuft yarn through and around the proper warp thread, hold them till the insertion of a binding weft, then, when they have been properly cut to length, return the spool into its place in the chain. This creation of mechanical genius takes rank with the wonders of the spinning mule and, like that machine, passes through its entire operation with the precision of an automaton. By its aid close imitations of the oriental hand-made rugs are placed before the world at one quarter the former price, and, as a result, the fine moquette and axminster carpets lend their beauty to nearly every home in the land.

The credit for improving the power-loom so as to adapt it for weaving fancy cassimeres and suitings, belongs to William Crompton, a native of England, who came to the United States in 1836, and shortly thereafter, in the Middlesex Mills at Lowell, Mass., constructed and operated the first fancy cassimere power-loom, not only in this country, but in the world. Prior to this the harness for all woolen and worsted power-looms was worked by cams, and the cloth was woven plain; but Crompton’s loom of 1840 started a new era in the woolen industry, rendering it possible to produce any fancy weave by an arrangement of pattern chain and large number of harnesses in connection with the change shuttle-boxes. Improvements followed, by the substitution of the reverse shuttle-box motion in 1854, the perfection of the general loom structure in 1857, the addition of the upright lever harness motion in 1864, and the centre-stop in 1879, so that at the present time this machine is adapted to run at high speeds and weave at moderate cost the most complicated designs in woolen and worsted—such as shawls, checks, suitings, and all forms of fancy cassimeres.

The general industrial activity in all matters pertaining to textile manufacture between the years 1835 and 1860, brought forth many forms of looms of special adaptation to meet the increasing demands of society. The narrow-ware loom appeared in the third decade of this century, and the addition of the dobbie, or Jacquard, later, equipped this loom for the simultaneous production of several ribbons, or narrow fabrics, side by side, having plain or figured effect. The lay was divided into several reed spaces, and a corresponding number of shuttles, operated by rack and pinion, carried the weft-threads through the adjacent warp.

About the middle of this century, and until the adoption of the more rich and delicate fabrics, hair-cloth was the accepted covering for furniture, and power-looms for its production quickly answered the demand. They reached such a degree of perfection and efficiency in this country that almost the entire industry was centred here. This fabric was made from the hair of horses’ tails as weft, and a strong cotton warp; and as the weft could not be wound upon bobbins, as usual, each separate hair was inserted by an ingenious device made to reciprocate through the shed, and select one out of a bundle of hairs cut to the same length. The conception of a power device capable of the delicate operation necessary to weave hair-cloth, could never have been realized except in a highly intelligent manufacturing community; but in 1870, Rhode Island alone produced on such machines over 600,000 yards, consuming thereby the hair of about eight hundred thousand horse-tails.

CIRCULAR LOOM.

The evolution of the lappet loom started between 1840 and 1850 in England and Germany. It sought to enhance the pleasing effect of plain fabrics, by placing an embroidered or raised figure over the surface during the weaving process. Near the lower edge of ladies’ skirts, on the ends of neckties and like articles, an embroidered effect was desirable; and this has been secured by the lappet attachment to the present power-loom. In this a needle is mounted in appropriate location, usually back of the lay, and through an eye in the end thereof the lappet thread is led from a suitable supply. This needle is normally either above or below the warp. When a spot or figure is wanted, it is caused to move into the plane of the opposite warps of the shed, under the direction of suitable controlling pattern mechanisms. The shuttle being then shot, the lappet thread appears upon the surface, and it may be made to thus appear as often as desired; its position being shifted as necessary under the guidance of a pattern-chain to form, in embroidery effect, any character of small design.

Closely allied to the lappet loom in the effect produced is the swivel-shuttle loom, which has come extensively into use during the last thirty years to supply demands for spotted or embroidered figures. The loom is of the plain type, having small swivel-shuttles movable in carrier blocks, which are secured to the supporting bar near the top of the lay-reed, in convenient location to permit the shuttles to be depressed into the shed. Each swivel-shuttle is provided with a rack engaging a suitable operating pinion to move the shuttles simultaneously from one carrier to the next. Normally these shuttles are held above the warp plane, and the loom in this condition weaves tabby or twill. At the desired moment, the supporting-bar is lowered by a cam or Jacquard to bring the shuttles in the shed; the shuttles are moved from one carrier to the next adjacent, and then all are raised to their normal position above the warp. The ground weft is laid and the beat-up takes place. Repetition develops a spot or figure at intervals across the entire fabric, and with the use of different colored swivel-threads the greatest diversity of embroidered effect is secured over the entire ground. Some of the most beautiful spotted silks for ladies’ dresses and fancy scarfs, never before contemplated, are now woven on this loom at prices that are very moderate for such a class of goods.

A radical departure from the paths traveled by prior inventors was inaugurated about 1859, in adapting the power-loom for weaving tubular fabrics, resulting twenty years later in perfecting a machine in which the warp threads were arranged in circular series and the weft laid in the circular shed by a continuously moving shuttle. Fire-hose and like tubular cloths resulted. Rapid development continued from the middle of the present century, so that nearly every conceivable form of loom, from the light running plain fabric and gingham looms to the heavy structures for weaving canvas and wire cloth, claimed the attention of the inventor; and in this last decade of the century looms are constructed to weave anything that can be woven. Wire, slats, cane, straw, and glass, as well as the light fibres of cotton, wool, or silk, are now easily manipulated on the power-loom and woven into cloths, mattings, baskets, cane-seats for furniture, bottle-covers, and ever so many irregular forms that, in the dormant condition of this industry prior to the nineteenth century, were quite beyond consideration of the most active enthusiast of the art.

Wonderful as these achievements have been, the restless ambition of inventive genius remains unsatisfied. Improvements continue—especially in the United States, under the fostering care of a liberal patent system—and attempts are now being made, and with success, to form the power-loom into a thoroughly automatic machine incapable of producing any but the best quality of cloth. Upon the breakage or undue slackening of a warp thread, the loom would continue to weave and produce imperfect fabric until the attendant had pieced the broken end or adjusted the slack thread. Means were devised some years ago to remedy this defect, but with only partial success until near the close of this century. Breakage or failure more often occurred in the weft, however, and though the weft stop-motion successfully detected the fault and stopped the loom, yet much valuable time was lost, and constant attention was needed to supply new filling. Progressive tendencies of the closing years of this decade have sought to meet this difficulty. As a result, means are now provided whereby, on failure or breakage of the weft, the loom discharges its imperfect filling from the shuttle, supplies itself with a new weft from the hopper, places it in the shuttle, and continues to weave. Such a loom provided with a warp stop-motion is almost incapable of producing imperfect cloth, and so long as the warps remain intact and the hopper is kept supplied with weft-bobbins, it will continue to weave. In fact, in many mills of the New England States these looms are now left to run during the dinner hour without an attendant, and no imperfect cloth is produced.

Such machines are almost independent of human attention, yet they are the evolution of the old-time hand loom. Just one hundred years ago the hand loom, running at 40 or 50 picks to the minute, required the watchful care of an expert weaver; in 1840, the same weaver could “tend” from two to four power-looms running 100 to 120 picks; to-day he oversees from 10 to 16 looms running from 150 to 200 picks.

THE FIRST KNITTING MACHINE. Lee.

The homespun, with its old familiar butternut dye, has disappeared. The spinning-wheel and loom no longer occupy a part of every home. In their stead, the farmer, as he looks beyond the thriving cornfields, beholds the reeking chimneys of a thousand mills as they proclaim the majesty of the power machines. The fabrics produced are beautiful and varied in design, and their cost so low as to excite wonder that such progress could have been the result of one hundred years of industrial activity.

The emancipation of knitting, as a domestic occupation, dates from the romantic experiences of William Lee, a subject of Queen Elizabeth, of whom it is related that while watching the deft fingers of his lady-love guide the knitting needle from loop to loop, conceived the idea of performing the operation by mechanical means. It is a singular coincidence also that the invention of this the first machine for knitting purposes, like that of the power-loom for weaving, should have emanated from the hands of a student and clergyman, unfamiliar with the art.

Lee’s device was naturally crude. It contained only twelve needles, arranged in a row with about seven or eight to the inch, but it successfully formed a knitted web. Further progress in the art was slow, on account of the strong opposition to all machines which seemed likely to deprive the hand artisan of occupation. The Queen refused to grant a patent to Lee for this reason, and knitting remained the exclusive prerogative of women for many years. Like the spinning-wheel, however, the hand knitting-needle beheld a rival, which in the diversity of human wants was destined to create one of the great industrial pursuits of the age.

Stockings, like all other garments, were first made by sewing together pieces of linen, silk, cotton, or woolen cloth, resulting in a poorly fitting article, prolific of uncomfortable seams. Knitting the entire hose in a single piece by hand needles overcame these defects to an extent, and the Lee machine opened the way for the production of such articles on a scale that now furnishes the civilized world.

Lee’s machine produced a straight web which required to be cut and sewn to shape; then to it was added the ribbing device and the narrowing and widening attachment, to shape the web to fit the body without cutting; but still a seam existed in the stocking where the edges united. In 1816, however, M. I. Brunel built a circular machine having an endless row of needles, and in 1831, Timothy Bailey, of New York, applied power to the knitting frame; the result being that at this time a tubular seamless fabric could be produced on a power machine.

The latch-needle, which has given to the knitting machine great capacity and diversity of product, was not invented until about 1847, by Mr. Aiken, of New Hampshire. A period of development then set in that continues to the present time. The needles by cam mechanism were made independently operative in a circular carrier; narrowing and widening devices to produce pouches, such as the heels and toes of stockings, were added, as was also feeding mechanism for the introduction of different colored yarn, or a reinforcing thread. Such machines, of 1868 and 1870, would form a stocking or undergarment well fitted to the form; but they required the constant attention of a skilled knitter, until pattern mechanism was introduced to control the time of introduction of the colored or additional thread, and the place for formation of the narrowed or widened web. In forming the heel and toe pockets, a part of the needles are thrown out of action, and the movements to operate the active needles are changed from round and round, or circular work, to reciprocating. At each reciprocation one or more needles, at the end of the series, are rendered inactive, until one half the required pocket is formed; then they are successively returned to action, and circular knitting resumed. It may be also an additional thread is introduced to reinforce the wearing qualities of the heel and toe, or a differently colored yarn may be thrown in to give figure, but all such movements are now automatically controlled by a pattern mechanism. The ribbed leg portion of a stocking is formed either in the same machine that fashions the foot or in a separate machine to which the foot is transferred, but in either case the pattern mechanism again controls.

KNITTING IN THE OLD WAY.

Within the last twenty years this art has been so greatly improved, especially in the hosiery line, that the automatic machine of to-day passes through the entire operation of knitting the article, finishing it off, and starting afresh without other aid than a supply of yarn. Moreover, the machine now to be considered practical must be so constructed that it will continue thus to operate without repairs or loss of time from month to month; and its daily output will average more than the old hand machines could accomplish in a week. By hand knitting one hundred loops could be formed per minute; by Lee’s machine as many as fifteen hundred were possible in the same time; but to-day, the automatic machine will average between 300,000 and 400,000 loops, and at the same time will produce a finer web, shaped to fit the form of the wearer.

Such comparisons reveal the vitally important progress made in the knitting industry, through which most of our underwear, stockings, scarfs, neck-comforts, and woolen gloves are supplied. The labor and time saving devices developed in this class of machines, and the fact that unskilled workmen may “tend” from fifteen to twenty of them, largely accounts for the universal adoption of warm and comfortable wearing apparel by all classes of society.

The number of patents granted on textile machinery during the nineteenth century furnishes an index to the progress made. Prior to 1800, less than one hundred patents were granted in the United States, while since that time, and up until July, 1895, about 15,200 patents were issued, covering tangible and material improvements over the old structures. The beneficent effects of these inventions are attested by the wonderful and continuous reduction in cost to the consumer of all kinds of textile fabrics. For the manufacturer, these have made possible increased production in a given time with less manual labor. When it is remembered that the labor cost is about one half the total cost of production of textile fabrics, it will be apparent that the beneficial effects of any labor-saving device are felt as well by the consumer as the producer.

In 1870 the number of textile establishments in the United States was 3035, giving occupation to 146,897 employees, and consuming annually 359,420,829 pounds of textile fibres, while in 1890 the number of establishments had increased to 4114, employing 511,897 hands, and consuming the enormous amount of 1,572,548,933 pounds of fibres; representing progress and growth in the textile arts not excelled by any other manufacturing industry.

Food and clothing constitute the primary wants of man. The former grew ready for his use as a natural product of the soil. The latter he had to produce by artificial means to afford that protection which nature failed to provide. Next to agriculture, therefore, man’s early attention was directed to securing a covering for the body. Looking back through the vista of years dimmed by the mists of very remoteness, we find the animal and vegetable kingdoms destined to contribute to his needs. There were the blue flax-fields; cotton-bolls, scattered like powdered snow about the land, coquetting in wanton abandon with winds tempered by an all-wise Power to the shepherd-watched sheep; goats roaming the vale of Cashmere; silk-worms of Ceres, and the grasses of spring, overflowing with allurements of assistance for his adornment. With these essentials has man wrought a mighty miracle. The genius of Industrial Art, awakened by the fascinating influence of Nature, invoked the Goddess of Invention, approaching her temple not with loud acclaim, as marked the herculean strides in other arts and sciences, but modestly, though tenaciously and most effectually. For not more is woman emancipated by the sewing machine than both sexes by the doing away of the spinning-wheel, the household knitter, and hand-worked loom. Not more do electricity and steam power facilitate the various occupations of man than do the many textured fabrics add to his needs.

KNITTING IN THE NEW WAY.

In all the phases of social life is this industry manifest. If the banquet hall is warmed and lighted by electricity, so, also, is it adorned with tapestries, silken and artistic, napery surpassingly smooth, and laces intricately wrought.

How like a fairy tale reads the evolution of textile progress! Conceptions, infinite in range and variety, alike pleasing to the eye and gratifying to vanity, have been spun, woven, knit, and embroidered, until, standing as we do at the dawn of another century, upon the summit of unparalleled achievements, we ask, “Can the mind conceive, the heart desire, or the hand execute more.”

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THE CENTURY’S RELIGIOUS PROGRESS
By GEORGE EDWARD REED, S.T.D., LL.D.,
President Dickinson College, Carlisle, Pa.

The closing years of the nineteenth century, both in Europe and the United States, are characterized by a religious life as phenomenal with respect to development and influence as those of the eighteenth were phenomenal for lethargy and decline. “Never,” says a writer in the North British Review, “has a century risen on England so void of soul and faith as that which opened with Anne (1702), and reached its misty noon beneath the second George (1732–1760),—a dewless night succeeded by a sunless dawn. The Puritans were buried and the Methodists were not born.” In this opinion, all historians and essayists concur.

Among the clergy were many whose lives were of the Dominie Sampson order, described in Scott’s “Guy Mannering”—men whose lives were the scandal and reproach of the church; who openly taught that reason is the all-sufficient guide; that the Scriptures are to be received only as they agree with the light of nature; pleading for liberty while running into the wildest licentiousness. Montesquieu, indeed, did not hesitate to charge Englishmen generally with being devoid of every genuine religious sentiment. “If,” he says, “the subject of religion is mentioned in society, it excites nothing but laughter. Not more than four or five members of the House of Commons are regular attendants at church.”

From the colleges and universities, the great doctrines of the Reformation were well-nigh banished, a refined system of ethics, having no connection with Christian motives, being substituted for the principles of a divinely revealed law.

On every side faith seemed to be dying out; indeed, would have died out but for the tremendous reformation in life and morals induced by the self-denying and heroic labors of the Wesleys and their coadjutors, to whom, more than to any beside, England owes her salvation from a relapse into barbarism,—a service which in later years won for the Wesleys a memorial in Westminster Abbey.

On the Continent, religious conditions were no better. In France the masses were yet reeling amid the excesses of the Revolution. Voltaire and Rousseau were the oracles and prophets of their times,—the popular idols of the hour. Voltaire, indeed, openly boasted that he alone would laugh Christianity out of the court of public opinion, declaring the whole system to be outgrown and powerless. Germany, given over to theological speculation, crushed beneath the weight of the Napoleonic wars, and torn by internal dissensions, gave but little hope that upon her altars the dying fire of the great Reformation would ever again flame forth as in the older and more heroic days.

In the United States, similar conditions prevailed, especially during the last decade of the eighteenth century and the first of the nineteenth. Forms of infidelity the most radical and revolting prevailed throughout the land. Many of the leading statesmen, in private at least, did not scruple to confess themselves atheists or deists. Thomas Paine was the popular idol; his “Age of Reason” almost as common as the Bible itself. The majority of the men taking part with him in the founding of the government, with but few exceptions, held theological sentiments akin to his, although declining to participate in his violent and brutal assaults upon the Scriptures and the institutions of Christian society.

BIRMINGHAM MEETING-HOUSE (ANCIENT).

Speaking of the earlier days of the century, Chancellor Kent, in one of his published works, declared that in his younger days the men of his acquaintance in professional life who did not avow infidelity were comparatively few. Bishop Meade, of Virginia, in his autobiography, states that “scarcely a young man of culture could be found who believed in Christianity.”

The colleges and universities were so filled with youthful skeptics that when, in 1795, Timothy Dwight assumed the presidency of Yale, he found but four or five willing to admit that they were members of churches. So far did they go in their devotion to the French infidelity prevalent at the time, that the seniors of the college were commonly known among themselves by the names of Diderot, D’Alembert, Robespierre, Rousseau, Danton, and the like. Harvard, Princeton, William and Mary, the University of Virginia,—all the colleges indeed,—were as thoroughly hotbeds of skepticism as nurseries of learning.

The period, too, was one of internecine strife among the feeble churches themselves. Divisions on doctrinal lines were incessant; departures from the faith as numerous as they were disastrous. Of the missionary spirit so gloriously characteristic of the nineteenth century there was not even a trace. Up to 1793, not a missionary society was in existence on either side of the ocean. The same was true of hospitals, asylums, of every form of organized effort for the reclamation of the masses or the amelioration of human ill.

In Boston, as late as 1811, men of literary or political distinction, eager to listen to the marvelous revival preaching of the celebrated Dr. Griffin, attended his services surreptitiously, or in disguise, fearful lest knowledge of attendance upon religious services of such vulgar character should detract from the dignity of their social standing.

If, however, the times were bad, the outlook for Christianity dark, the period, nevertheless, was not wholly without gleams of light. The spiritual leaven imparted by Whitefield in his mighty preaching tours, by Edwards, Dwight, Asbury, Griffin, and others of equally heroic stamp, gradually began to work,—slowly at first, but with ever accelerating movement,—until at last the triumphant successes of the present century began their stately march. By degrees a new life appeared among the churches, heralding the dawn of a new and brighter day. Revivals of religion, many of them powerful and sweeping, broke out in many parts of the country. Massachusetts, Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, the Carolinas, Georgia, were in succession the theatres of movements which, before they had spent their force, had completely revolutionized the conditions of unfaith, immorality, and spiritual apathy so long prevailing. These upheavals of spiritual power, continuing during the first twenty-five years of the century, laid broad and deep the foundations of the mighty achievements of the church which we are now to consider. How extensive, how wonderful, have been these achievements can perhaps best be understood by a consideration of the changed conditions marking the close of the century.

In the first place, that the people of the United States are a religious people may be inferred from the amazing number and variety of religions abounding and flourishing within our borders. It may be doubted that in any other Christian country of the earth there can be found so many varieties of religion, so many church organizations, so many and diverse peculiarities of doctrine, polity, and usage, as here. It is a land of churches; churches for whites, churches for blacks; churches large and churches small; churches orthodox and churches heterodox; churches Christian and churches pagan; churches Catholic and churches Protestant; churches liberal and churches conservative, Calvinistic and Armenian, Unitarian and Trinitarian; representing nearly every phase of ecclesiastical and theological thought. As Americans have distanced the world in the extent and variety of their material inventions, so have they distanced the world in the extent and variety of their theological and ecclesiastical forms. The state cannot control the church, and the church is as free as the state. As a man may freely transfer his citizenship from one State to another, to each in turn, so may he, if he shall so desire, pass from one ecclesiastical communion to another, until he shall have exhausted the list. If, perchance, no one of the one hundred and forty-three distinct denominations enumerated in the census tables shall suit him, there remain innumerable separate, independent congregations, no one of which lays claim to denominational name, creed, or connection, in some one of which he yet may find an ecclesiastical home. The principle of division, indeed, has been carried so far in America that it would be a difficult task to find the religious body so small as, in the judgment of some, to be incapable of further division.

CATHEDRAL OF ST. JOHN THE DIVINE (PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL) UNDER PROCESS OF ERECTION IN NEW YORK.

It is to be observed, however, that the differences of the one hundred and forty-three denominations into which our religious population is divided are, in many instances, so slight that, should consolidation be attempted, the one hundred and forty-three could easily be reduced to a comparatively small number, and this with but little change in doctrine, polity, or usage. Consolidation into organic union, however, is hardly likely to occur in the near future, even were such consolidation desirable. In the first place such a result would be contrary to the genius of Protestantism, based, as it is, on the absolute right of private judgment with respect to matters of faith and morals, and, in the second place, it would be contrary to human experience. “Religious controversies,” as Gladstone says, “do not, like bodily wounds, heal by the genial forces of nature. If they do not proceed to gangrene and mortification, at least they tend to harden into fixed facts, to incorporate themselves into laws, character, and tradition, nay, even into language; so that at last they take rank among the data and presuppositions of common life, and are thought as inexorable as the rocks of an iron-bound coast.” In religion, when men separate, the severance is like the severance of the two early friends of whom the poet speaks:—

“They parted, ne’er to meet again,
But neither ever found another
To free the hollow heart from paining.
They stood aloof, the scars remaining,
Like cliffs which have been rent asunder,
A dreary sea now rolls between.”

FATHER DAMIEN, MISSIONARY TO HAWAIIAN LEPER COLONY.

If, however, the diversities are great—increasing rather than diminishing—the “unity of the spirit in the bonds of peace” with respect to all essentials of doctrine is as remarkable as the diversity in the outward form. Never, indeed, since the dawn of Christianity, were the members of the diversified bodies of the general church of Christ in such thorough accord, in such closeness of attachment, with such generous recognition of all that is good in each of the several bodies, as now. Even the Roman Catholic Church, intolerant in all lands where its sway is practically undisputed, in the United States, at least, has caught something of the broader toleration of Protestants, giving to its millions of communicants a better and truer gospel than in those countries where it does not come into contact with Protestantism, while freely coöperating with other churches in various works of philanthropy and reform.

In the next place, that we are a religious, a Christian people may be argued from the steady and enormous increase during the century of the material and spiritual forces of the church of Christ, an increase phenomenal even amid the wonders of a phenomenal century. Whether we look at the increase of edifices or the multiplication of communicants, the results in either case are sufficient for both congratulation and amazement. Were it possible to obtain from the earlier records exact statistics of the actual number of edifices and communicants existing at the opening of the century, comparison would be comparatively easy. Such, however, is not the case, the records having been imperfectly kept and indifferently preserved. The census of 1890, indeed, was the first to furnish exhaustive and really reliable results.

Taking that census as a basis, and adding to its figures those to be obtained from the year books of the various bodies up to and including 1894, the religious strength of the United States may be summarized as follows: Churches, 189,488; religious organizations, 158,695; ordained ministers, 114,823; members or communicants, 15,217,948; value of church property, $670,000,000; seating capacity of churches, 43,000,000, while in the 23,000 places where organizations which own no edifices hold their services, accommodations could be found for 2,250,000 more. In the majority of the Protestant churches, at least two services are held on each Sabbath; in the Catholic, six or seven.

Granting these premises, it is but reasonable to say that if, on any given day, the entire population of the country should desire to attend at least one religious service, accommodations could readily be found for the entire number,—ample proof that the spiritual interests of the millions are by no means neglected so far as privileges of worship are concerned. It is a showing all the more remarkable when we consider that all this vast provision is furnished on the basis of voluntary offerings, the state contributing not a dollar for religious purposes. It is probable that in these churches and edifices, on Sabbaths and on weekdays, not less than 15,000,000 services are held each year, to say nothing of sessions of Sunday-schools, meetings of Young People’s Associations, and gatherings of kindred character. In them, too, not less than ten millions of sermons and addresses on religious themes are annually delivered.

The number of enrolled communicants, or members, however, by no means expresses the real strength of the religious life of the nation. To get at that, we must multiply each Protestant communicant by the 2.5 adherents allowed in all statistical calculations. Proceeding on this basis, omitting for the time all Catholics, Jews, Theosophists, members of Societies for Ethical Culture, Spiritualists, Latter-Day Saints, and kindred bodies, and multiplying the 15,200,000 Protestant members by 2.5, we have over 50,000,000 as the total Protestant population of the country. Adding to these 50,000,000 the Catholic population, estimated by Catholic authorities as being 15 per cent. larger than the number of Catholic communicants, we have 57,062,000 as the total Christian population, leaving only about 7,000,000 who are neither communicants nor adherents. Of the 7,000,000 opposed, for various reasons, to the churches, comparatively few are to be reckoned as either infidels or atheists; while, on the other hand, it is true that of the 57,000,000 reckoned as either communicants or adherents, millions are Christians only in name, either never attending the services of the churches, or at the best only at rare intervals. Gratifying as is this splendid exhibit of religious devotion on the part of the American people, the fact that there are millions in our land whose allegiance to Christian doctrine is but nominal, with millions more upon whose lives religion exercises no appreciable influence whatever, is a sufficient proof of the enormous task yet confronting the churches of Christ, if we are to stand before the nations as the great distinctive Christian nation of the world. The stupendous gain, however, in ninety-four years, of over 14,853,076 in Protestant churches alone is a record of religious progress unparalleled in the history of the world.

SALISBURY CATHEDRAL, ENGLAND. (WEST FRONT.)

Advancing to the question of distribution of the religious forces enumerated, we find that while these forces are distributed throughout every State and under one hundred and forty-three denominational names, they are, nevertheless, massed largely in a few denominations and in a comparatively few States. Competent authorities estimate that the five largest denominations comprise fully 60 per cent. of the entire number of communicants; the ten largest, 75 per cent. With respect to communicants, the Catholic Church is first, with 7,510,000; the Methodist (all bodies) second, with 5,405,076; the Baptist third, with 3,717,373; the Presbyterian fourth, with 1,278,332; the Lutheran fifth, with 1,233,072.

YOUNG MEN’S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION BUILDING, PHILADELPHIA.

With respect to population, reckoning the Catholic population at 7,510,000—which figures include children under ten years of age—and adding to the communicant strength of the four other bodies mentioned the 2.5 adherents allowed for each communicant, we have the following: Methodist population, 18,918,466; Baptist, 12,990,805; Presbyterian, 5,525,162; Lutheran, 4,358,752; total Protestant population, 50,000,000; Catholic, 7,510,000.

With respect to value of church property, the Methodists are first with $132,000,000; the Catholics second, $118,000,000; the Presbyterians third, with $95,000,000; the Episcopalians fourth, with $82,835,000; the Baptists fifth, with $82,390,000. The total value of church property, reckoning all denominations, reaches the enormous sum of $670,000,000.

To further particularize with respect to the lesser groups into which the religious forces are divided is impossible within the limits allowed for this chapter. To do it would require a volume instead of a chapter. The following summary, however, may suffice to show the gain of a century of religious effort:—

Year.	Ministers.	Organizations.	Communicants or Members.
1800	2,651	3,030	364,872
1850	25,555	43,072	3,529,988
1870	47,609	70,148	6,673,396
1880	69,870	97,090	10,065,963
1890	98,185	151,172	13,823,518
1894	114,823	158,695	15,217,948

When one remembers that one hundred years ago it was a common boast of infidels that “Christianity would not survive two generations in this country,” the above exhibit shows a religious progress unequaled in the history of the kingdom of God in any land or any age.

Turning to the field of missionary effort, we find that the spread of the Christian religion by missionary efforts, particularly during the last one hundred years, forms one of the brightest chapters in the records of human progress. Within this period, the triumphs of the first three centuries have been far more than repeated.

Following these early victories of the Christian faith came on, as all know, ages of darkness, dreary centuries, during the progress of which the power of the church gradually waned, and, with respect to purely spiritual activities, seemed to die away. The voice of exhortation ceased to be heard. Christian song was hushed. Even prayer closed its supplicating lips, and the church, overladen with corruption, worldliness, and human ambition, passed into the thick darkness of the long and disastrous eclipse of the Middle Ages. But amid the widespread darkness enveloping the world, even the ages known as the “Dark Ages” were not without their gleams of light. Among the Saracens and in the lands of the Orient, always were to be found heroic men and women toiling ceaselessly for the conversion of heathen nations to the Christ. Later on, subsequent to the thirteenth century, and especially during the centuries immediately following the discovery of the New World, the desire for the Christianizing of the world flamed into an all-absorbing passion. The tremendous labors of Xavier, of Loyola, and their followers, in every quarter of the globe, have long been the wonder and admiration of the world. Checked in Europe by the rise of the great Protestant Reformation, the Catholic Church turned its energies to the acquisition of spiritual power in other lands, and with enormous success. Along the banks of the St. Lawrence, amid the wilds of Canadian forests, far away on the shores of the Great Lakes, thence southward to the Ohio, along the Mississippi, even to the Gulf; in far Cathay, in Ceylon, in Japan, in China, in Africa,—everywhere its missionaries could be found, heedless of hunger, of cold, of peril, reckless even of life, if by any means, whether by life or by death, they might “sprinkle many nations” and establish the holy emblem of the Christian faith.

BAPTIST MISSION SCHOOL, JAPAN.

Absorbed in the struggles going on in their own lands, Protestants made but little effort for the extension of the gospel in foreign fields, save the few but successful attempts made by the Moravians of Germany, always the most zealous of all Protestant bodies in lines of missionary service. What, however, was lacking in the way of missionary effort in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries has been more than made good in the glorious nineteenth, the distinctive missionary century of the Christian era. In the room of seven societies organized for world-wide gospel evangelization at the end of the last century, there are now in Europe and America between seventy and eighty organizations, employing a force of nearly three thousand American and European missionaries, and perhaps four times that number of native assistants. Full $10,000,000 are annually raised among the Protestant bodies alone for missionary service, while the great Roman Catholic Church prosecutes its work with a zeal equally unflagging. A brief survey of the progress of a hundred years of missionary effort will make it clear to all minds that the day is not far distant when the declaration of the prophet, “The earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, even as the waters cover the sea,” shall have abundant and magnificent realization.

At the beginning of this century, every island of the vast Pacific was closed against the gospel. To-day, nearly every one is under the influence, more or less extended, of Christian civilization. India, from Cape Comorin to the Punjaub, from the Punjaub to the Himalayas, from the Himalayas to Thibet,—at whose gates the gospel is now knocking,—has been covered with a network of mission stations, schools, colleges, and churches, closer by far in its interlacings than that which at the close of the third century had spread itself over the vast empire of the Cæsars. Of the Indian Archipelago, Sumatra, Java, Borneo, the Celebes, New Guinea, not to mention smaller groups of islands, are feeling the new life ever imparted by the advent of the Cross. Japan, too, hungry for reform, and full of the stir of the age, by granting entrance to the gospel, has within its borders already a numerous Christian population with scores of evangelical congregations. The same is true of the hermit nation, Corea. In the lands of Islam, from Bagdad to the Balkans, from Egypt to Persia, and throughout all Turkey, are to be found centres of missionary enterprise, the vast influence of which is now being sensibly felt in the changing life of those remarkable peoples. In Burmah, and recently in Siam, after years of patient and apparently hopeless service, fields are everywhere “white unto the harvest.” China, most populous of all heathen lands, is open to missionary effort from Canton to Peking, from Shanghai to Hon-Chow. Africa also, once, in its northern sections at least, the home of the learning, the art, the science, the religion of the world, awakening from the sleep of long and dreary centuries under the influence of Christian civilization, again demands the attention of the great nations of the world. Everywhere, east, west, north, south, it is being invaded all along the line of Cecil Rhodes’ great railway, stretching northward from Cape Town for three thousand miles, to meet the twenty-six hundred pushing down from the north,—from Senegal to Gaboon and from Gaboon to the Congo; on the shores of Tanganyika and along the banks of the Zambesi shine the lights of the gospel, which, wherever it has gone, has been the harbinger of a new and brighter day. Within the mighty domains of our own continent, upon the immense plains reaching from Labrador to the Pacific, upon the sterile coasts of Alaska, in the land of the Montezumas, in Central America, in South America, from Panama to Terra-del-Fuego, equally marvelous have been the steady gains resulting from a Christianity the forces of which, like the waters that enrich the continent, penetrate all the bays and estuaries of human society and influence all classes and conditions of men. Looking upon the transformations effected by the labors of a single century of Christian effort, one may surely say, “The peoples that walked in darkness have seen a great light; they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.”

Equally wonderful have been the vast contributions of the church in America to the great causes of education, philanthropy, and reform, particularly in the line of educational work. The service of the church in the great cause of education has never yet been fully recognized. Men forget, when charging the church with hostility to human progress, to freedom of thought and action, that until within a period of seventy years nearly everything accomplished for popular education was carried out under the auspices of the churches rather than under the direction of the state. Until 1825, the state had done next to nothing even in the development of its common schools. In the great State of Pennsylvania, the system had no existence until the year 1835. Even to-day, among the four hundred and fifty institutions of higher education in the various States, nearly all owe their foundation to the energy and sacrifice of Christian men and women. The total gifts of the churches to the cause of education, still existent in plant, in grounds and buildings, or in the form of endowment funds, reach the enormous aggregate of nearly $350,000,000, while the total of gifts to institutions of learning, largely from Christian sources, aggregate nearly $10,000,000 per year.

METHODIST EPISCOPAL HOSPITAL, PHILADELPHIA.

The religious activity of the century is further manifested in the enormous sums raised and expended for purposes of charity, reform, and general philanthropy. It would require an octavo volume of four hundred pages to catalogue the various benevolent and charitable organizations in the city of New York alone. Add to that volume the hundreds more which would be required to enumerate the additional thousands to be found in Philadelphia, Chicago, Boston,—in fact in every city, town, and hamlet from the Atlantic to the Pacific, nine tenths of which are distinctively Christian,—and you have a faint idea, at least, of the vastness of the spiritual forces at work in these closing years of the century for the amelioration of human ill, the dispelling of moral and spiritual darkness, and the ushering in of the era of peace and good will, for the coming of which the church has so ceaselessly prayed. What these philanthropies are we cannot in detail enumerate. Classified, they are for the poor, for the laboring classes, for the sick, for fallen women, for free schools, for the aged, for the blind, the deaf, the insane, the impotent, the degraded, the outcast, for sailors, for the protection of animals, for city evangelization, for home missions, for foreign missions, for religious publications, for the publishing of the Holy Scriptures, for peace, for Young Men’s Associations, Young Women’s Associations, for every cause that appeals to the sentiment of brotherhood so characteristic of the age. In number they are legion. In origin, three fourths are the outgrowth of that spirit of Christian love without which they could not have been originated, and by which they are maintained and perpetuated. Those who assert that within this century Christianity has done more for humanity than in all the centuries preceding are doubtless correct. It has made men kind, made them humane. It has penetrated prisons, and with beneficent change. It has lifted the prisoner from damp and dreary dungeons into commodious structures, the pride of city and State. So far, indeed, have the reforms inspired by the gospel been carried, that men are beginning to inquire whether the limit has not been reached beyond which it may be dangerous to go.

Such are the general facts of the religious progress of a century in the United States. Reviewing them, we can easily discern the vast and commanding influence of religion—the Christian religion—upon the character and fortunes of our people. Among the forces working for the upbuilding of the Republic, religion stands preëminent, the most powerful, the most pervasive, the most irresistible of them all. A free church in a free state, all its edifices have been built by private contribution, all its magnificent benefactions sustained by voluntary offerings, induced in every instance by the principle of Christian love. A corporation, it holds its vast properties for the common good of all. A relief society, the scope of its sympathies is as wide as the wants of man. A university, it does more for the education of the masses than the public school system itself. An employer of labor, it utilizes the brains and energies of the most highly educated body of men to be found in the Republic’s broad domain. An organized beneficence, it outwatches Argus with his hundred eyes, outworks Briareus with his hundred arms. An asylum, it gathers within its protecting arms the halt, the maimed, the wounded of life’s great battle, comforting them in trouble, sustaining them in adversity, while ceaselessly pointing them to Him “who taketh away the sins of the world.” “Every corner-stone it lays,” as one has said, “it lays for humanity; every temple it opens, it opens for the world; every altar it establishes, it establishes for the salvation of men. Its spires are fingers pointing heavenward; its ministers are messengers of good tidings; its ambassadors, ambassadors of hope; its angels, angels of mercy.” Under all our institutions rest the Bible and the school-house,—Christianity and Education. Without them, the Republic is impossible; with them, we have Republican America for a thousand years.

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GREAT GROWTH OF LIBRARIES
By JAMES P. BOYD, A.M., L.B.

Libraries are as old as civilization. Nothing marks civilized progress more distinctly than the collections of writings, whether on clay, stone, wood, papyrus, or parchment, which went to make up the libraries of ancient peoples. Such writings generally related to religion, laws, and conquests, and found their abode, in the form of archives, in capitals and temples. Recent explorations in Mesopotamia reveal collections, or libraries, of books inscribed on clay tablets, many of whose dates are beyond 650 B. C. These libraries seem to have found a home for the most part in royal palaces, and to have contained works abounding in instruction for the kings’ subjects. As unearthed and their contents deciphered, they throw much valuable light upon the remote history, as well as the arts, sciences, and literatures of Babylonia and Assyria.

In ancient Egypt collections of hieroglyphic writings were made in temples and in the tombs of kings from the earliest known dates. Some hieroglyphics still extant bear date prior to 2000 B. C., and one papyrus manuscript has been discovered whose supposed date is 1600 B. C. What were known as the sacred Books of Thoth—forty-two in number—constituted the Egyptian encyclopædia of religion and science, and became such a fruitful source of commentary and exposition, that by the time of the Grecian conquest they had grown in number of volumes to 36,325.

Of the libraries of the Greeks we have little positive knowledge, though it is abundantly asserted by late compilers that large collections of books (writings) once existed in the various Grecian cities. Pisistratus is said to have founded a library at Athens as early as 537 B. C. Strabo says that Aristotle collected the first known library in Greece, which he bequeathed to Theophrastus (B. C. 322), and which, by the vicissitude of war, finally found its way to Rome. At Cnidus there is said to have existed a special collection of works upon medicine. Xenophon speaks of the library of Euthydemus. Euclid and Plato are mentioned as book collectors. But by far the most renowned book collectors of the Greeks were the Ptolemies of Egypt, who gathered from Hellenic, Hebrew, and Egyptian sources that wonderful collection of volumes, or rolls, which became famous as the Alexandrine Library. This was composed of two libraries, one estimated at 42,800 volumes, or rolls, connected with the Academy, the other estimated at 490,000 volumes, or rolls, deposited in the Serapeum. It is said that these immense collections were regularly catalogued and kept under the supervision of competent librarians, till consumed by the Saracens at the time of their conquest of Egypt, A. D. 640.

The Romans at first paid little attention to literature. It is not until the last century of the republic that we hear of a library at Rome, and then it was not a native collection but a spoil of war. It was captured from Perseus of Macedonia and brought to Rome in B. C. 167. So Sulla captured the library of Apellicon, at Athens, in B. C. 86, and brought it to Rome. Lucullus brought to Rome a rich store of literature from his eastern conquests (B. C. 67). Wealthy men and scholars now began to form libraries at Rome, some of which became very large and valuable. It is here we first hear of the dedication of libraries to the public,—a step which made Rome for a time the resort of scholars from other nations, especially Greece. The most famous of the many imperial libraries of Rome was that founded by Ulpius Trajanus. It was called the Ulpian Library, and was at first founded in the forum of Trajan, but afterwards removed to the baths of Diocletian. In the fourth century there are said to have been as many as twenty-eight public libraries in Rome. Great, indeed, must have been their destruction under various vicissitudes, for when the Emperor Constantine moved the Roman capital to Constantinople, and founded his imperial library there, it numbered but a few thousand books. It was, however, greatly enlarged after his death—some say to 100,000 volumes. It was destroyed in A. D. 476, with the close of the Western Empire.

With the spread of Christianity there arose a new incentive to write and collect books. The church required both a literature and libraries as part of its organization. Pamphilus is said to have collected a library of 30,000 volumes, chiefly religious, at Cæsarea (A. D. 309), his object being to lend them out to readers. But as book-making and collecting became narrowed to the church, general literature was proscribed and libraries ceased to flourish, except as encouraged by the monastic orders. Such libraries were necessarily small and of a private character. Their books were manuscripts written or copied by the priests, up to the date of the invention of printing. The libraries of this class which grew in importance were those of the Swiss and Irish monasteries, not omitting those in England, as at Canterbury and York. The invasion of the Norsemen, in the ninth and tenth centuries, was generally fatal to the monastic libraries on both sides of the English channel.

In France, the library at Fulda seemed to retain its books and respect. It was greatly enlarged by Charlemagne, who also founded a more ostentatious one at Tours. With the revival of learning, and with the hope of opening a wider field to secular literature, Charles VI., of France, founded a royal library which numbered 1100 volumes by A. D. 1411. A similar library in England, that of the British crown, numbered 329 volumes at the time of Henry VIII. In contrast with these early royal efforts stood that of Corvinus, king of Hungary, whose library numbered 50,000 volumes, mostly manuscripts, in 1490. This imperial collection was burned by the Turks in 1540. About this time the nucleus of the modern Laurentian Library of Florence was formed.

In 1556, the Bibliothèque Nationale, or royal library of France, at Paris, was endowed by the king with power to demand a copy of every book printed in France. This power became the basis of the copyright tax, now universally levied by civilized nations, and which has been the means of greatly enriching all government libraries. In 1556 the royal library of France could boast of but 2000 volumes. In 1789 it contained 200,000 volumes, the largest number of any library then existing. At the end of the nineteenth century it still retains the distinction of being the most extensive library in the world, containing approximately 3,000,000 volumes.

THE NEW LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, WASHINGTON, D. C.

In Italy the libraries, though venerable and very rich in rare collections of manuscripts, are not noted for the number of books which represent modern literature. The most noted library is the Biblioteca Vaticana, or library of the Vatican. It traces a vague history back to the fifth century, but its real foundation was in 1455. The number of volumes and manuscripts on its shelves is approximately 300,000.

In Spain and Portugal are national libraries in their respective capitals, Madrid and Lisbon. The national library of Spain contains some 560,000 volumes and manuscripts, while that of Lisbon contains over 200,000. Belgium and Holland are rich in libraries. The royal library at Brussels contains over 400,000 volumes. In 1830 it was made a part of the state archives and thrown open to the public. The national library of Holland was established in 1798 by uniting the library of the princes of Orange with the smaller libraries of the defunct states. It thus became the library of the States-General, but in 1815 it was converted into the present national library. It has a very valuable collection of books, numbering over 400,000. One of the best arranged and managed libraries in Europe is the Royal Library at Copenhagen. It was thrown open to the public in 1793, and has since been conducted under national auspices. Two copies of every book published in the kingdom must be deposited in this library. Its volumes have increased very rapidly during the nineteenth century, and now number over 550,000. The Royal Library of Sweden is located at Stockholm. It contains over 350,000 valuable volumes, and is admirably arranged and conducted. The University Library at Upsala is also a very valuable one, containing 300,000 volumes. There is also an excellent library of over 100,000 volumes connected with the university at Lund. The libraries of Norway, though not so large as those of Sweden, are numerous, valuable, and well managed. The University Library at Christiana contains over 330,000 volumes. In Russia, large and valuable libraries are not numerous outside of the cities of St. Petersburg, Moscow, and Warsaw. The Imperial Library at St. Petersburg ranks as the richest in Europe, excepting the libraries of Paris and the British Museum. It is open to the public, and contains approximately 1,200,000 volumes.

RIDGWAY BRANCH OF PHILADELPHIA LIBRARY.

Germany, with her multiplicity of minor capitals, her love of books and book-making, her numerous universities, excels every other European country in the number, extent, and value of her libraries. The largest is the Royal Library at Berlin, with approximately 1,000,000 volumes. It was founded by the “Great Elector” Frederick William, and opened as a public library in 1661. The Royal Library at Munich long rated as the largest in Germany, with its 1,200,000 volumes, inclusive of pamphlets, the latter numbering some 500,000. But it was thought to be unfair to class so many small and inconsequential works as books, so that the library at Berlin was given precedence. Still the Munich library is particularly rich in incunabula and other treasures derived from the monasteries, which were closed in 1803. The University library at Munich is also very rich in similar treasures. It contains well nigh 500,000 volumes. The other large libraries of Germany are the University library at Leipsic, with over 500,000 volumes; the Royal and City library at Augsburg, with 123,000; the Royal, at Bamberg, with 300,000 volumes; the University at Bonn, with 220,000 volumes; the Grand Ducal at Darmstadt, with 400,000 volumes; the Royal Public, at Dresden, with 410,000 volumes; the University at Erlangen, with 185,000 volumes; the City, at Frankfort, with 190,000 volumes; the University at Freiburg, with 250,000 volumes; the University at Giessen, with 160,000 volumes; the Ducal Public, at Gotha, with 210,000 volumes; the Royal University at Göttingen, with 490,000 volumes; the City at Hamburg, with 510,000 volumes; the University at Heidelberg, with 410,000 volumes; the University at Jena, with 200,000 volumes; the University at Kiel, with 225,000 volumes; the University at Rostock, with 310,000 volumes; the University at Strassburg, with over 700,000 volumes; the University at Tübingen, with 320,000 volumes; the Grand Ducal at Weimar, with 230,000 volumes; the Brunswick Ducal, at Wolfenbüttel, with over 300,000 volumes. Besides these there are numerous others attached to various universities or publicly organized which have 100,000 volumes each.

In Austria-Hungary, the largest library is that of the Imperial Public, at Vienna. It was founded in 1440 by Emperor Frederick III., and has ever since been munificently supported by the Austrian princes. Few libraries in Europe contain more important collections or are better organized and housed. Its volumes number 540,000. Admission to its reading room is free, but the books are loaned out under rigid restrictions. The University Library of Vienna was founded by Maria Theresa, and has grown very rapidly, numbering nearly 500,000 volumes. In Vienna alone the number of libraries exceed one hundred, many of them of considerable extent. The various university libraries throughout Austria-Hungary are rich in volumes, particularly that at Cracow, with over 306,000 volumes, and at Innsbruck, with 175,000 volumes. The National Library at Budapest, Hungary, and also the University at the same place, have rich collections, numbering 465,000 and 212,000 volumes respectively.

In Switzerland libraries are very numerous and well conducted. The largest is that at Basel. It is called the Public University Library, and numbers 187,000 volumes. The next largest is the City Library, at Zurich, with 135,000 volumes. The smaller libraries of Switzerland exceed two thousand in number, and are, as a rule, rich in literary treasures descended from the ancient monasteries.

THE PUBLIC LIBRARY OF THE CITY OF BOSTON.

Though by no means as ancient as some others, the leading library of Great Britain, and the second in extent and importance in the world,—the National, at Paris, France, being first,—has had a phenomenal growth. It is located at London, and is known as the British Museum. It dates from 1753, when Parliament purchased, for £20,000, the Sir Hans Sloane collection, and afterwards consolidated therewith many other valuable collections. It was given the privilege of copyright, by which means, and by frequent and fortunate private bequests of books, it grew apace and became a national repository, not only of home-written works, but of the literature and rarities of all nations. The number of its volumes at present exceeds 1,650,000. London does not contain many public libraries, but there are numerous collections of scientific and special works of great value to those pursuing certain lines of knowledge. The second largest and most important collection in England is that of the Bodleian Library of Oxford, with some 530,000 volumes; followed by that of the University of Cambridge, with some 510,000 volumes. Next in extent and importance in Great Britain is the library of the Faculty of Advocates, in Edinburgh, Scotland. It dates from 1682, and contains at present about 400,000 volumes. The library of Trinity College, Dublin, was founded contemporaneously with the Bodleian, and easily ranks as the largest and most important in Ireland, with its 200,000 volumes, to which about 3000 are added annually. What has been said of the dearth of public libraries in London is in part true of all Great Britain. There are not a score of libraries in all her European domain that number over 100,000 volumes, and it is only within the nineteenth century that the public or free library system began to grow in favor. Indeed, such growth may be said to date from as late a period as 1850, when the Manchester Free Reference Library was established. It has shown in fifty years a most marvelous growth, and contains at present some 255,000 volumes.

Great Britain has not neglected to encourage the use of libraries among her colonists. At Ottawa, Canada, is the library of Parliament. It was founded in 1815, and grew slowly till 1841, when the two libraries of Upper and Lower Canada were consolidated. It was subsequently destroyed by fire, and in 1855 reëstablished. Since then it has grown rapidly, and at present contains over 150,000 volumes. The Laval University library, at Quebec, is the next most extensive in Canada, containing over 100,000 volumes. The South African Public Library was founded at Cape Town in 1818, and has grown to contain some 50,000 volumes, many of them of great importance as bearing on the languages and customs of African peoples. In Australia are many libraries of considerable extent, whose volumes are, as a rule, free to all readers. The largest of these is at Melbourne, and is called the Public Library of Victoria. It is a collection of considerably over 150,000 books and pamphlets, many of which relate to Australasian themes. The Sidney Free Public Library is next to that at Melbourne in importance. It is said to contain the largest collection of works special to Australia in the world.

The book collections of China, and indeed throughout the Orient, are by no means inconsiderable, and the favorite works relate to religion, philosophy, poetry, history, and the sciences. They are generally large and of encyclopædic style and proportions. Thus a Chinese history of national events from the third century B. C. to the seventeenth A. D. occupies sixty-six volumes, as bound in European style for the British Museum. Libraries in Japan are more numerous, convenient, and extensive than in China and elsewhere in the Orient. The University library at Tokio, Japan, contains well nigh 200,000 volumes.

Of South American libraries the largest is the National, at Rio Janeiro, Brazil, with some 240,000 volumes. The other republics of South America which passed through their wars for independence and their formative periods, not to say their internal jealousies and strifes, during the nineteenth century, have had but little opportunity or inclination to collect large libraries. Yet the spirit of education is by no means dormant, and the nuclei of many libraries have been formed, in which much pride is taken, and which bid fair to grow great in importance as scholarship expands and other fostering conditions come to prevail more generally. Even in the small and tumultuous republics of Central America there are some valuable collections of books which, in the course of time, will be greatly augmented and prove a source of literary and national pride. Notwithstanding all the ups and downs of the Mexican republic during the century, she has, since the separation of church and state in 1857, evolved a creditable educational system, and built up many excellent libraries, especially in the capital, Mexico. The largest of these is the National, which contains over 100,000 volumes.

JOHN RUSSELL YOUNG.

First Librarian of New Library of Congress.

The growth of libraries in the United States during the nineteenth century has been phenomenal. If its leading libraries have not yet matched those of the old world in extent, they are, nevertheless, unique in their freshness, exceptional in their number, original in their systems, and most effective in their uses. And what is here said of the leading libraries is still more true of the smaller, for in no country has the library system so ramified as in the United States, and come down to such close touch with the people. Not only cities, towns, and even villages have their libraries, but States, schools, and myriads of special organizations, all of which are centres of culture and sources of literary pride.

The oldest library in the United States is that of Harvard College. It was founded in 1638, and was destroyed by fire in 1764. It was speedily restored, and became the recipient of many private donations, which not only greatly increased the number of its volumes, but placed it in possession of a handsome endowment fund. Since its removal to Gore Hall, in 1840, it has been open to the public for reading within its walls, but only the students of the university and other privileged persons may borrow books. Its present collection numbers over half a million of volumes of books and pamphlets. In the year 1700, two other libraries were founded,—that of Yale College, and that which afterwards became known as the New York Society Library. The first of these grew very slowly until the beginning of the nineteenth century, when it took on new life, and at the end of the century contains some 250,000 volumes. The latter also grew very slowly, and in 1754 became a subscription library. It is peculiarly the library of the old Knickerbocker families and their descendants, and the number of its volumes gravitates around 100,000.

In 1731, Benjamin Franklin projected what he called a “subscription library” at Philadelphia. It was incorporated as the Library Company of Philadelphia, and grew rapidly through bequests of books and money. In 1792 it absorbed the very valuable Loganian Library, and in 1869 Dr. Benjamin Rush left a bequest of over $1,000,000 to found its Ridgeway Branch. The building erected for this purpose is, with the exception of the new Library of Congress structure at Washington, the handsomest, most commodious, and best arranged for library purposes of any in the United States. The collection of the Library Company of Philadelphia, commonly called the Philadelphia Library, now numbers well nigh 200,000 volumes. Of the sixty-four libraries in the United States reported to have been founded before the year 1800, thirty were established between 1775 and 1800. The more important of these—that is, those which rank as 20,000-volume libraries and over—are the Massachusetts Historical Society Library, at Boston, founded in 1791; the Georgetown College Library, at Georgetown, D. C., founded in 1791; the Dartmouth College Library, at Hanover, N. H., founded in 1769; the Columbia College Library, New York City, founded in 1754; the library of the College of Physicians, at Philadelphia, founded in 1789; the College of New Jersey Library, at Princeton University, founded in 1746; the Brown University Library, at Providence, R. I., founded in 1768; the Department of State Library and House of Representatives Library, Washington, D. C., founded in 1789; the Williams College Library, at Williamstown, Mass., founded in 1793.

From this standpoint we get a fair view of the tremendous strides of library growth in the United States during the nineteenth century. The sixty-four libraries of 1800 have grown to well nigh four thousand, not counting those of less than 1000 volumes; and the less than 500,000 volumes of 1800 have increased to well nigh 30,000,000, omitting those in libraries of less than a thousand volumes. Over six hundred libraries in the United States take rank as 20,000-volume libraries and over, at the end of the century; and in the six statistical years between 1888 and 1893, which mark the greatest ratio of increase in volumes, there was a growth equal to 66 per cent over all that had preceded.

Nor has the century been more triumphant and wonderful in the accumulation of volumes and the number of book repositories than in the variety of systems and multiplicity of agencies by means of which library information is arranged and disseminated. Conspicuous among these has been the inauguration and growth of the free library system, by means of which public funds are provided for the support of libraries whose use is free to all. Hardly less conspicuous, and perhaps even more far reaching, has been the adoption by many States of the school-district library system, which draws upon a certain proportion of the school fund for the collection and maintenance of the district library. Again, most of the States have established libraries of their own for public use, and as centres to which may be gathered and whence may be disseminated the knowledge that appertains to the respective State localities. Special library systems have grown into great favor, covering and encouraging collections of historic works, of scientific literature, of information relating to law, medicine, theology, etc. In fact, there is hardly a line of investigation and mental activity that has not come to be represented in its library collections.

THE CARNEGIE FREE LIBRARY, PITTSBURGH, PA.

At the head of all the century’s library triumphs in the United States stands the Library of Congress. It is the national repository, and is to the country what the British Museum is to Great Britain and the Bibliothèque Nationale is to France. It was founded in 1800, when the seat of government was moved to Washington. In 1814 it was burned by the British soldiers, its home being then in the Capitol, which was also destroyed. The government purchased Thomas Jefferson’s collection of 7000 volumes as the nucleus of a new library. This grew to contain 55,000 volumes by 1851, when all but 20,000 volumes were again destroyed by an accidental fire. In 1852 it was refitted, the government appropriating $75,000 for the purpose. On the restoration of its halls in the Capitol, in fire-proof form, it began to grow rapidly in volumes. In 1866, it received the 40,000 volumes which constituted the library of the Smithsonian Institute. In 1870, the privilege of copyright was transferred to it from the Patent Office. This, together with the annual appropriation made by Congress, served to give it a more rapid growth than ever, and to nationalize its importance. It speedily grew rich in collections of history, science, law, and every branch of literature appertaining to this and other countries. Under its privilege of copyright, two copies of every volume desiring such protection are required to be deposited within it. It must, therefore, ere long become quite fully representative of the literary productions of the country. In 1882, it was augmented by the presentation of the private collection of the late Dr. Joseph M. Toner, of Washington, containing 27,000 volumes and nearly as many pamphlets. By 1890 it had outgrown its ability to accommodate its collections, and Congress made a very liberal appropriation for the erection of a new and separate library building, which was completed and occupied by 1897–98, the late Hon. John Russell Young being its first librarian. It is the largest, most elegant, and best fitted repository of books in the world, being capable of accommodating over 2,000,000 volumes. The public are privileged to use its books within the building, but only members of Congress and certain designated officials of the Departments may take them away. It is open from 9 A. M. to 4 P. M., except upon Sundays and other legal holidays. Its location is on Capitol Hill, quite contiguous to the Capitol itself.

A pioneer of the system of free libraries, and the one which comes next to the Library of Congress in the number of its volumes, is the Public Library of Boston, founded in 1848. It has had a phenomenal growth, and is the centre of a wide range of literary influence. Its numerous branches extend throughout the city and surrounding towns, bringing free reading to every locality. The number of its volumes exceeds 700,000. The free library system stands sponsor for a host of libraries throughout the larger cities. The Public Library of Cincinnati was founded upon this basis in 1867. It at once attained great popularity and speedily grew till, by the end of the century, its volumes numbered approximately 220,000. The same popularity and rate of growth characterized the Public Library of Chicago and that of Philadelphia. The former was founded in 1872, and now contains over 220,000 volumes. The latter was not founded until 1891, but by the year 1900 it grew to contain 203,102 volumes, with fifteen branches, or divisions, throughout the city, and an annual circulation of 1,778,387 volumes.

Other libraries of the United States founded or rehabilitated during the nineteenth century, and which ere its close have taken rank as libraries containing over 100,000 volumes, are the New York State Library, at Albany, with approximately 190,000; the State Library at Annapolis, Md., with 100,000 volumes; the Enoch Pratt Free Library, at Baltimore, with 165,000 volumes; the Peabody Institute Library, at Baltimore, with 125,000 volumes; the Athenæum Library, at Boston, with 185,000 volumes; the City Library, at Brooklyn, N.Y., with 120,000 volumes; the University Library, at Chicago, with nearly 400,000 volumes; the Newberry Library, at Chicago, with 125,000 volumes; the Public Library at Detroit, with 135,000 volumes; the Cornell University Library, at Ithaca, N. Y., with 175,000 volumes; the library of the State Historical Society, at Madison, Wis., with 110,000 volumes; the Mercantile Library, at Philadelphia, with 175,000 volumes; the library of the University of Pennsylvania, with 120,000 volumes; the Astor Library, New York City, with 265,000 volumes; the Mercantile Library, New York City, with 250,000 volumes; the Public Library at St. Louis, Mo., with 105,000 volumes; the Sutro Library, at San Francisco, with 210,000 volumes.

Of those libraries founded during the century in the United States, and which have secured a rank as over 20,000-volume libraries, there are very many that approach the 100,000 mark, and their average of volumes would gravitate around 50,000. It is by no means true that the importance and usefulness of a library must be measured by its number of volumes. Very many of the best managed, serviceable, and popular libraries contain even less than 20,000 volumes.

The spirit of knowledge which has created in the United States such a demand for libraries has been happily supplemented by a spirit of liberality. Nowhere in the world have there risen so many and such munificent donors of means to found and support libraries. Without appearing invidious, mention may well be made of some of these munificent givers and founders. Conspicuous among them is John Jacob Astor, founder of the Astor Library in New York City, with its splendid endowment fund of $1,100,000; James Lenox, who founded the Lenox Library of New York City, and invested in buildings and endowment $1,247,000; George Peabody, who founded, in 1857, at Baltimore, the Peabody Institute and Library, with an endowment of $1,000,000; Walter L. Newberry, of Chicago, who, in 1889, left $2,000,000 to found a free public library in the northern part of the city; John Crerar, of Chicago, who left an immense estate to found and endow the Crerar Library; Enoch Pratt, of Baltimore, who gave $1,150,000 to found the Enoch Pratt Free Library; Dr. James Rush, of Philadelphia, who left, in 1869, a bequest of over $1,000,000 to form the Ridgway Branch of the Philadelphia Library; Andrew Carnegie, who founded the Pittsburgh Free Library and several others in different places.

The century’s progress in library management has kept pace with the growth of volumes. Cataloguing and arranging of books have been reduced to a science. Training of librarians and of students in the use of books has become an educational course in many higher institutions of learning. Library architecture and the numerous appliances for distributing books or rendering them accessible on the shelves, have all been improved, so that the library of the end of the century is as much a seductive retreat as a world of knowledge.

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PROGRESS OF THE CENTURY IN ARCHITECTURE
By WILLIAM MARTIN AIKEN, F.A.I.A.,
Former U. S. Supervising Architect.

Towards the close of the last century there arose in England a decided fashion for Greek columns and pediments, which was brought about by the publication in 1762 of the discoveries by Stuart and Revett at Athens, and was still further stimulated by the bringing to England of the Elgin marbles in 1801, so that every building of any importance, whether church or school or country residence, had its portico with Doric, Ionic, or Corinthian columns. Thus began the Greek revival; then followed the more slender columns, with arches and vaults, of the Roman; and to these were very shortly added the cupola or the dome and the balustrade of the Renaissance.

In London, the Bank of England by Sir John Soane, the British Museum by Robert Smirke (a pupil of Soane’s), the University by Wilkins, were all built early in this century, as were the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, and the High School at Edinboro, magnificent colonnades adorning the front of each. St. Pancras Church, in London, has a spire of superimposed copies of the Temple of the Winds at Athens—each smaller than the one beneath it,—and there are side porches which reproduce the caryatid portico of the Pandroseum. But the most successful building in England which was designed upon Greek lines is St. George’s Hall, Liverpool, which has a central hall lit from above; at either end is a court-room, and beyond, at one end, is an Odeon, or Music Hall.

The taste for classical design gradually declined in England, and a new cult was assiduously propagated through the writings of Pugin, Brandon, Rickman, and Parker, whose text was that classicism represented paganism, and this, together with the remodeling of Windsor Castle, in 1826, by Sir Jeffrey Wyatville, caused a general interest in the revival of Gothic architecture; for some time, however, much illiterate work was done in the adjustment of old forms to new conditions.

Throughout the last half of this century, the battle of the styles has been maintained by the adherents of the differing schools with varying success, and, although there may be notable examples to the contrary, it has virtually resulted in the adoption of Gothic designs for ecclesiastical buildings, conditions being much the same as formerly for these structures; whereas, for secular buildings, with ever-changing requirements, the classic or the Renaissance, which has shown even greater pliability, has been considered more appropriate.

Among those whose success has been greatest in Gothic work may be mentioned Sir Charles Barry, who was knighted for designing the Parliament Buildings, begun in 1840 and completed twenty years later; George Gilbert Scott, who did the Assize Courts, in Manchester, and New Museum, Oxford; George Edmund Street, whose Law Courts in London are so full of defects in plan yet so excellent in details; Alfred Waterhouse, whose interesting (Norman) Museum of Natural History gave substantial encouragement to the use of terra cotta; T. G. Jackson, the author of much collegiate architecture at Oxford and elsewhere; J. L. Pierson, the designer of eight churches in London; William Burgess, Sir Arthur Blomfield, and James Brooks, all well known for the high character of their work, as is also J. D. Sedding, whose broad sympathies and refined spirit ranked him as one of the most talented men of his day.

The first international exposition was held in London in 1851, and the single building in which it was contained was perhaps the most marvelous exhibit. It was designed by Sir Joseph Paxton, and was the first example of the use of iron and glass on a scale of such gigantic proportions.

The so-called “Victorian Gothic” was used to a great extent for secular work as late as 1870, and as it was much stimulated by the writings of Street upon Spain and Northern Italy and by Ruskin’s “Stones of Venice,” there were frequent attempts at polychromy, shown in the use of different colored stone, brick, and terra cotta, and, in the Albert Memorial, by means of mosaic.

R. W. Edis and E. W. Godwin were among the foremost practitioners of the time, but in spite of the cleverness and boldness of design shown in some of their city and suburban buildings, neither they nor others could prolong the life of the fashion, and it presently yielded to the revival of a previous one, and the Renaissance forms of the time of Queen Anne became the vogue, especially for country houses,—nowhere more homelike than in England.

In the suburb of Bedford Park, in Lowther Lodge, as in his designs for the Alliance Assurance Company and the new Scotland Yard, Norman Shaw showed the facility of his clever pencil, and Ernest George Peto gave many evidences of his skill and taste; their work, however, often having a flavor of the Flemish.

The building of the Thames Embankment, the opening of new streets,—such as Holborn Viaduct and Shaftesbury Avenue,—with the widening and straightening of others, have done much for the improvement of modern London.

In France, there were very many important public buildings begun in the first ten years of this century,—during the reign of Napoleon I.,—although some of them were not completely finished until the time of Napoleon III. (1848–1870). Among those in Paris were the Arc de l’Étoile by Chalgrin, the largest triumphal arch ever built, being similar in height and width to the front of Notre Dame Cathedral, omitting the upper portion of the towers; Arc du Caroussel by Percier & Fontaine—both these arches commemorating the victories of Napoleon; the churches of the Madeleine by Vignon, and of Ste. Geneviève, in honor of the great men of France; and the wing connecting the palaces of the Tuileries with the Louvre, parallel to (but furthest from) the river.

The Corps Législatif, which was formerly the Palais Bourbon, was remodeled in 1807 by Poyet, and has for its river front a portico with pediment sustained by twelve columns, a greater number than any other existing building can show.

If there be one style more than any other which needs sunshine and a clear atmosphere to show it to advantage, it is the classic; and a Greek or Roman temple in the atmosphere of fog, rain, and snow, of Edinboro, London, Munich, or even Paris, does not produce at all the same impression as if it were under the blue skies of Italy, Sicily, or Greece; however, the frequent employment of classical motifs since the beginning of the century has contributed, to a degree unprecedented in modern times, towards placing Paris in the very foremost rank among the capitals of the world in the dignity and impressiveness of its public buildings.

ARC DE L’ÉTOILE, PARIS.

The encouragement given to architecture in France by Napoleon I. was revived by Napoleon III. The remodeling of the streets, avenues, and boulevards of Paris, under the direction of Baron Hausmann, while it swept away many landmarks of mediæval Paris, contributed wonderfully to its stately elegance as well as to its hygiene; the work begun upon the Louvre was completed from designs by Visconti & Lefuel, and much entirely new work erected. There was a group of men, some of whom brought about the Neo-Grec movement, whose work was especially interesting, and although not extensively copied, yet exerted a marked influence for many years afterwards. These men were Labrouste, who designed the Library of Ste. Geneviève, about 1830; Duc, who remodeled the Palais de Justice; Duban, who built the library for the School of Fine Arts, about 1845; Viollet le Duc, who restored the Château de Pierrefonds, and wrote treatises and dictionaries upon architecture, furniture, etc., and was instrumental in the organization of the Society for the Preservation of Historical Monuments.

Still later than these works are Vaudremer’s Neo-Grec Church of St. Pierre de Montrouge, built in 1860, and Abadie’s Byzantine Church of the Sacred Heart, still unfinished; Baltard’s Church of St. Augustin, of brick and cast-iron, and Central Market, of cast-iron and glass; Garnier’s Opera House, Hitorff’s Northern Railway Station; the Trocadéro, built for the Exposition of 1878; the Machinery Hall and Eiffel Tower, for that of 1889; together with a host of other public buildings, not only in Paris, but in other portions of France, many of which have served as examples to the student of architecture in other lands.

In this connection we should not forget the debt we owe to the French nation. During the reign of Louis XIV. the School of Fine Arts was founded in Paris, where free instruction in painting, sculpture, and architecture is still given to all who pass satisfactorily the entrance examinations; and in this school many of our successful architects have received gratuitous instruction from some of the distinguished men above mentioned. In the Department of Architecture the chief characteristics are the thorough and systematic study of the plan, and the adaptation of building materials to the conditions of the design.

Other European cities besides Paris have profited by the general prosperity of the century. St. Petersburg produces the effect of a city of palaces, the many residences of grand dukes and nobles, the number of public institutions, the riding schools,—much used on account of the severity of the climate,—and even the barracks, in spite of the free use of stucco, each contributing to a certain impression of stateliness; the palace of the Archduke Michael, built by an Italian, Rossi, in 1820, is perhaps the most refined and dignified. Muscovite architecture is most conspicuous in the elaborate and bulbous domes, curious not only in form, but in color, of the churches of St. Petersburg, of Moscow and Warsaw.

King Louis of Bavaria, having lived in Rome when Crown Prince, cultivated so great a fondness for the architecture of Greece and Italy, that when he came to the throne he commissioned his architects to design for his capital city of Munich the Walhalla, Ruhmeshalle, Glyptothek, and Pinakothek, after classical models.

In Dresden, the most interesting buildings designed upon Greek or Italian traditions are the theatre and the picture gallery, by Semper, who will long be ranked as the foremost German architect of his day.

In Berlin there is a theatre,—unique of its kind, with stage in the centre, and an auditorium for winter use at one end and one for summer at the other,—designed by Titz; at Carlsruhe, Stuttgart, and Strasburg there are theatres and schools in the same style. The present Emperor has added many schools throughout the empire, but they are of late German Renaissance.

The public buildings of Germany and Belgium show few designs of interest in recent years; the Parliament House at Berlin, by Wallot, and the Palais de Justice at Brussels, by Polaert, being colossal in mass and clumsy in detail. Many of the private houses designed in the Italian Renaissance were very elegant and attractive, but within the past decade there has been a woeful deterioration in the character of both surface and line—the grotesque replacing the graceful.

NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM, KENSINGTON, LONDON.

The villages built for their employees by Krupp, the gun manufacturer, and Stumm, the maker of steel, are notable instances of the application of private capital to the improvement of the domestic conditions of the laboring class.

In Austria, Vienna has developed wonderfully since the days of Maria Theresa. The classic Parliament House by Hansen, in 1843, is one of the most delightful of its kind to be found anywhere; Schmitt’s Gothic town-hall is interesting, but cannot be said to be so successful in design; the Votive Church by Ferstel, in 1856 (also Gothic), the Opera House by Siccardsburg and Van der Nüll, with the City Theatre, an elaborate Renaissance structure, by Semper and Hasmauer, are all worthy of note. The University with the two Museum buildings, facing each other upon a small park, and other public buildings and residences along the Ring Strasse, are extremely satisfactory, in spite of the fact that stucco has been so extensively employed.

Only a few years ago the municipality of Buda-Pesth offered immunity from taxation for fifteen years to all prospective builders, under certain conditions as to character and cost of buildings, with the result that the newer portion of the Hungarian capital was quickly occupied by buildings of the most desirable kind; the Parliament House, Opera, Cathedral, Technical School, and several club-houses and private residences, each testify to the spirit with which the citizens responded to this desire to beautify the city.

Since the unification of Italy there has been considerable building in some of the principal cities, but very little of special importance. In Rome, the changes are more perceptible than elsewhere; the excavations of the Forum, the embankment of the Tiber, the widening and straightening of the Corso, and the opening of the Via Nationale and other streets, have destroyed comparatively little of the picturesque that was worth retaining, have brought to light many treasures of art, and, supplemented by the drainage of the Campagna by Prince Torlonia, have certainly made it a healthier city to live in. The monument to Victor Emmanuel, the National Museum, and the Braccia Nuovo of the Vatican Museum, are among the few public structures of interest; the many blocks of apartments and tenements are orderly and inoffensive, though brick and stucco are the materials used in their construction.

Turin is the modern manufacturing city, while Florence preserves its mediæval air, and Venice dreams of the bygone days when the splendor of the Renaissance attracted the wealth, beauty, and talent of all Europe to the city of the Doges.

Bologna and Genoa have each built in the suburbs a magnificent Campo Santo, or cemetery, with chapels, colonnades, and other accessories of architectural value; in Milan and Naples there are lofty glass-covered arcades through the centre of a block and connecting with cross streets, and the semi-circular colonnades of St. Francesco di Paolo, at Naples, surround a piazza which is the great public resort of summer evenings.

During the reign of King George a new Athens has sprung up alongside of and overlapping the old city; although the nation is not wealthy, the individual bequests of certain Greeks have given her the Museum, University, and Academy, each of strict classic design, and a hospital of Byzantine design. Under the sunny skies of Greece those buildings certainly appear to much greater advantage than if in a more northern atmosphere, and their statuary and polychromy show the value of these accessories to such architecture in this climate.

THE WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D. C.

Abdul Aziz, the predecessor of the present Sultan of Turkey, had so great a fondness for building that his extravagance in this respect was one of the causes which led to his downfall. The Dolma Bagtche palace, erected directly upon the shores of the Bosphorus from the designs of Balzan, an Armenian architect, suggests Spanish work of the sixteenth century. In Constantinople and at Therapia,—a summer resort at the northern end of the Bosphorus,—many of the foreign governments have built official residences for their representatives.

GLASS COVERED ARCADE, MILAN.

As for the architecture of our near neighbors on the north, the buildings of Canada have been sturdy and substantial rather than comely; but the long continuance of cold weather and the lack of means have often hampered the builders. Since the completion of the Canadian Pacific Railroad, the prosperity of city and country seems more assured; the older cities growing in importance and extent, and new towns springing up along the line to the West. In Ottawa the Parliament Buildings and the octagonal Library, in Toronto, and, to some extent, in Montreal, the Universities’ buildings, are Victorian Gothic. The later buildings of the University in Montreal, excepting the Girls’ College, are not so interesting; but there are two railroad stations, a hotel, cathedral, with several banks, insurance buildings, and residences that call for more than passing notice. Perhaps the finest building in all Canada is the Château Frontenac, in Quebec,—built by Bruce Price of New York,—on the Dufferin Terrace, overlooking the St. Lawrence River, and commanding a view that is hardly surpassed on the Bosphorus, the Rhine, or the Hudson.

Although the history of architecture in America cannot be written without some reference to contemporary work in Europe,—since so much of our architecture in the first half of the century is adopted from that of our ancestors and adapted to our uses, and in the last half so many of our architects have studied there and so many of our citizens have traveled there,—the problems and their conditions in the Old World are very different from those of the New. Europe was already mature when steam and electricity were introduced; precedent was always to be considered, and modern requirements were often forced to conform to existing circumstances. There has, therefore, been comparatively less change there during the century than during the past thirty years with us. With our republican institutions, many of the monarchical formulas soon became obsolete, though the general trend of our architecture has been in the direction of classic models. As the country has grown larger and more wealthy, the problems given to architects have become more complex; less reliance could be placed upon precedent and a premium was placed upon originality, which, in spite of innumerable vagaries, has brought American architecture, at the end of the century, to be the most notable of the day.

At the end of the eighteenth century, this republic consisted of hardly more than a number of communities extending at intervals along the Atlantic seaboard, with an occasional settlement beyond the Alleghany Mountains and across the Ohio River. Their resources were extremely limited, their wants very few, and their intercommunication irregular; but their methods of living were simple and frugal, and their courage and endurance phenomenal.

Among the settlers of New England were many mechanics and manufacturers, and these soon began to replace the primitive log cabins with frame dwellings; those of the Southern States were chiefly planters, who imported much of their labor, and often the bricks as well as the glass, hardware, tiles, and other materials for their houses. Many of those who colonized the Middle States had come from countries in Europe where these materials were made, and brought their secrets with them, while others were farmers and stock growers, whose snug little cottages and enormous barns may be seen to this day in New York and Pennsylvania.

At the beginning of the nineteenth century we possessed a national style of architecture, which, although it had come to us from Italy, through France and England, was yet distinctly American. It was, however, almost exclusively confined to residences, and there were very few public buildings of any description, except certain churches,—said to have been designed by followers of Sir Christopher Wren, some of whom were doubtless ship carpenters who had studied the works of Sir William Chambers.

THE UNITED STATES CAPITOL, WASHINGTON, D. C.

The Colonial style, as we now term it, was sufficiently elastic in its adaptability to conform to the requirements of the merchant, manufacturer, or mariner living at Salem, Boston, or Newport, as well as to those of the planter living at Charleston or Savannah. There were certain differences, more or less pronounced, peculiar to each section and to each city, but all houses were alike in this respect,—there was no gas or water, and the open fireplace was depended upon for heat.

In New England the dwelling-houses were placed near the ground; the chimneys built in an interior cross wall, the kitchen, with its accessories, as near to the dining-room as possible; the ceilings were low, with cornices sometimes of plaster, sometimes of wood. The roof,—which was often hipped and often of the gambrel shape, but rarely a gable of even slope,—was always covered with shingles, which covering was occasionally used also on the exterior walls.

In the South, some of the characteristics were the high basement, broad piazzas, frequently at the level of the second as well as the first story, and placed on the south and west sides; the chimney on outside walls; the kitchen in a separate building, detached from the dwelling; a broad hall through the centre, giving access to large rooms with high ceilings; the roof quite as frequently hipped as gabled, and often—in either case—a huge fanlight set in a low gable on the front for ventilation of the attic; dormers were seldom used, as the attic was not inhabited; the gambrel roof was uncommon; slate, and occasionally tile or shingle, was used for roof covering.

Our first public buildings of any importance, and which show the influence of contemporary work in England, were the White House, designed by Hoban in 1792; the Capitol, begun by Dr. Thornton in 1793 and completed by B. H. Latrobe in 1830; the wings, containing the present Senate and House of Representatives, were added later; the dome, designed by Thomas U. Walter, was begun in 1858, but not completed until 1873.

Our early Presidents took much interest in architecture, Washington directing and criticising the planning of the Capitol and building his own home at Mount Vernon, and Jefferson designing the dome and colonnades of the University of Virginia, at Charlottesville, and his own home at Monticello.

Massachusetts was the first State to erect its capitol,—the State House in Boston, by Bulfinch, dating from 1795.

The City Hall of New York was our first work of unmistakable French character, and shows the influence of the time of Louis XVI. It was designed by Mangin, a Frenchman, begun in 1803, and completed in 1812.

After the war of 1812, many state and national buildings were erected; from that time colonnades and domes seem indispensable to the proper dignity of the capitol or court house. The use of both brick and stone became more general, and, for private houses, the form of the gambrel roof gradually disappeared in favor of the hip and gable. Subsequent to 1830, the accepted type of the larger or more pretentious house was the Italian villa, with a square tower accentuating the front entrance, often one story higher than the main building; all roofs of low pitch, covered with tin; the exterior walls faced with stucco. About this time bay windows and sliding doors for principal rooms of first story, and better facilities for the use of heat, light, and water were introduced and the symmetrical disposition of parts often neglected.

The very steep pointed Gothic roof denoted the modest cottage, and the perforated wooden tracery of windows and porches, or the barge-boards of gables, became the simple beginning of that riotous growth of jig-sawed fretwork afterwards so prominent upon those houses constructed with Mansard or French roofs of rectilinear, concave, or convex form. The works and writings of Downing had much influence at this time, and it was shown not only in these Italian villas or Gothic cottages, but also in landscape gardening about suburban residences.

The political disturbances in various countries of Europe in 1848 brought very many immigrants to our shores, and the discovery of gold in California, in 1849, was the beginning of that steady flow of settlers which has since then peopled so many of our Western States and Territories.

LIBRARY BUILDING, UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA.

(Thos. Jefferson, Designer.)

Then followed our own Civil War, from 1861 to 1865, and subsequent to that the period of reconstruction, during which time there was some building, but very little architecture, throughout the country.

In 1869 the Pacific Railroad was completed, and this not only gave a new impetus to Western mining and farming, but created a new market for Eastern manufactures.

So great was this manufacturing and commercial activity that vast fortunes were made, and there were many opportunities calling for the services of architects; but as they had hitherto been rarely employed, except in a few of the larger cities, upon churches or public buildings, a great proportion of them were untrained amateurs or self-taught carpenters and masons. However, the first school of architecture had just been organized at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, in Boston, and to William E. Ware,—who was its professor of architecture from 1866, and who organized a similar school at Columbia College, New York, in 1880,—the profession and the public owe more than to any other one man for well-directed efforts towards the development of such, qualifications as may eventually give a national character to our architecture. These schools came none too soon, and within the past twenty-five years many others have been founded and many traveling scholarships endowed; collections of books, photographs, and casts have been provided in various cities; architectural periodicals published, and architectural societies and sketch clubs formed, each of which has contributed to the higher education of the profession and to the greater appreciation by the public.

Prior to this time, each section and each city had certain peculiarities of architecture, as of speech, which were unmistakable. The white New England meeting-house, the red school-house, the country house with its kitchen, wash-room, and wood-shed trailing in the rear, or the swell-front city house, were as characteristic as the endless blocks of brown stone, high stoop houses of New York, or the monotonous rows of red brick dwellings with white marble trimmings of Philadelphia, or the broad verandas and halls of the Southern home.

Cast-iron was the recognized material for the front of business buildings, the designs being chiefly in the Corinthian or composite orders, and the arch or lintel used indiscriminately; and when the dry goods store of A. T. Stewart & Co. was built, in 1872, to occupy the whole block from Broadway to Fourth Avenue, and from Ninth to Tenth Streets, it was the largest and most important of its kind. Before this class of commercial architecture disappeared, a front was designed by R. M. Hunt, about 1878, for a store on Broadway, near Broome Street, where the plastic forms of the tile and stucco of Saracenic architecture were used as being more logical for this material than an imitation of Roman forms in stone.

There were not many summer resorts, and a few weeks at Saratoga, Newport, or the Virginia Springs was the limit of the annual vacation; the orthodox hotel was a rectangular frame building, with veranda on one or more sides, covered by a flat roof supported by square piers having the height of several stories; the length, width, and height of the building were governed by no other proportion than that of the number of guests.

In the South and West there were virtually no hotels, and the belated traveler applied for food and shelter for himself and his horse to the nearest friendly farm.

These were the prevailing conditions when the nouveau riche appeared upon the scene; to him as citizen prosperity meant a better home, to the congregation a larger church, to the community a new city hall or court house, to the State a more expensive capitol.

While these buildings were being everywhere erected, in accordance with the time honored fashions of construction and with elaborate finish, the disastrous conflagrations of 1871 in Chicago, and of 1872 in Boston, called general attention to the necessity for more permanent building; and the precautions now taken against similar occurrences were the beginning of efforts toward methods of fireproof construction. Granite, marble, and limestone were discarded in favor of sandstone, brick, and terra cotta; iron beams carrying brick or concrete (subsequently hollow terra cotta) arches were introduced, and metal laths were substituted for the wooden strips to a certain degree; but as these fires were mainly in the business districts, such reforms have been confined almost exclusively to commercial architecture.

TRINITY CHURCH, NEW YORK.

In 1873 the financial panic gave a check to many building operations, but it was of comparatively short duration, for in 1876 all the other nations of the earth were invited to unite with us at Philadelphia in celebrating the centennial anniversary of our independence.

This was our first international Exposition, and it was not remarkable that in our eagerness to learn, and in the enthusiasm of prosperity, we sought inspiration from all those peoples who had brought their goods for our inspection. At once we began to build Queen Anne cottages or to remodel existing houses with many bays and towers, rooms set at all angles, floors at different levels, walls of many materials, and roofs of varying slopes, as well as to apply many tints and shades of color within and without.

The summer hotel and summer cottage began to appear at the seashore, in the mountains, and along the shores of the great lakes, and the winter resorts of the Carolinas, Florida, and California to attract the seekers for health and pleasure.

The interior decoration of our houses was the chief lesson of 1876, and having once seen the European and Oriental hangings, draperies, rugs, and bric-à-brac, we set about furnishing our rooms with them.

Hitherto American architecture had been most influenced by English precedent, and the Victorian Gothic had able advocates, especially in Boston, where the Art Museum by Sturgis & Brigham, as well as many stores, residences, and churches by Cummings & Sears, Peabody & Stearns, and others, showed much vigor and originality. William A. Potter, as supervising architect for the Government, adopted this style, in 1875, for his buildings at Fall River, Mass., Nashville, Tenn., and Covington, Ky., and R. M. Upjohn designed for Hartford, Conn., the only Gothic State Capitol in this country.

R. M. Upjohn and Henry M. Congdon of New York had already done much Gothic ecclesiastical work and, with the possible exception of Grace Church in 1840, and St. Patrick’s Roman Catholic Cathedral in 1886 by Renwick, there is no example of this style which shows such appreciation of proportion or of form, in mass and in detail, as Trinity Church (1843) by the first-named architect.

It was perhaps rather fortunate that just as the Queen Anne fashion, with its multiplicity of detail, was brought to us from England, H. H. Richardson, of Boston, called our attention to the bigness and (almost brutal) simplicity of the Romanesque from Southern France. From the date of the building of Trinity Church, in Boston (1876), may be reckoned the parting of the ways. Heretofore everything we had done of any importance had an English stamp upon it; henceforth the work that was done showed the result of training of the Parisian atelier or of the well-filled sketch books of Continental travel.

Not only in this church, but in his libraries at Woburn, North Easton, Quincy, Milford, Burlington, and New Orleans, did Richardson show his grasp of the subject. Trinity is unmistakably a Christian temple, and its bigness most conducive to the sense of awe and reverence. His libraries leave no doubt as to their having been built for the storing and reading of books; his stone buildings, whether the Court House and jail in Pittsburg, the Chamber of Commerce in Cincinnati, or private houses in Buffalo or Chicago, show their purpose and emphasize their material; his brick buildings, whether a college building at Cambridge, railway station at New London, or residence at Washington, tell their story in brick; and his country houses about the suburbs of Boston, to be what they are, could not have been other than of wood.

His influence upon the architecture of the day was therefore not surprising, but there was a subtleness in the character of his designs that his imitators could never acquire and even his immediate successors could not long retain after his personality was lost to them; and from the lack partly, perhaps, of true sympathy, partly from the modification of conditions, his art may be said to have died with him.

ST. GEORGE’S HALL, PHILADELPHIA.

As R. M. Hunt had the last word on the cast-iron front, so he had the first on the modern sky-scraper, a peculiarly American production; the walls of the Tribune Building, however, carry both their own weight, and that of the floors, being built before the days of the methods of steel skeleton construction. Hunt was trained in Paris, as was Richardson, and had assisted in the design of the Pavillon de Flore under Lefnel, and he showed his appreciation of the Neo-Grec movement in his design for the Lenox Library. It is somewhat unusual for an artist to do his best work in his latest years, but surely no better work of its kind has been done in modern times than the residences which he designed for three members of the Vanderbilt family at Newport, in New York city, and at Biltmore, N. C. The design which he left for the Fifth Avenue front of the Metropolitan Museum, now being carried out by his son, is a magnificent Corinthian order, whereas much of his other work is late French Gothic.

That he was called upon to design the base for Bartholdi’s Liberty in New York Harbor, and the Administration Building at the International Exposition of 1893, and that a portrait bust has been erected to his memory, all testify to the appreciation in which he was held by the profession.

To McKim, Mead & White, of New York, we are greatly indebted for their influence upon secular architecture, and their Casino at Newport, built in 1880, was probably more far-reaching in its effect upon country houses than any other building at that time. Among the other work from their office may be mentioned the Boston Public Library, the Madison Square Garden (reproducing in its tower the Giralda of Seville), the Library and other buildings for Columbia College, the Metropolitan and University Clubs, the Agricultural Building (of staff) in Chicago in 1893, now being reproduced in marble for the Brooklyn Institute, the Tiffany, the Villard, and other city houses, and a host of country houses at Newport, Lenox, and elsewhere.

There is another architect whose talents should be acknowledged; for about 1880, when the shingle house had just begun to take shape, there was none more clever at that sort of thing than W. R. Emerson, of Boston, and his resources seemed endless in harmonizing form and color with conditions of seashore or mountain, as shown in his houses at Bar Harbor, Milton, Newport, and many other summer resorts.

Philadelphia, which had hitherto always been extremely conservative in architecture, soon began to erect some of the most singular and fantastic structures that could well be imagined; but fortunately the refined simplicity and fertile originality of such men as Wilson Eyre, Frank Miles Day & Bro., and Cope & Stewardson have prevailed, and in both city and suburban work they and certain others have done and are doing much to counterbalance the character of the eccentricities of their predecessors, as shown in buildings for the University of Pennsylvania and the Academy of Arts and Sciences.

But the restless activity of Eastern loom and machine shop, and of Western farm and mine, seemed to meet and concentrate in Chicago—the entrepôt for the raw material of the West and the finished product of the East. The unprecedented increase in value of land, the low price of iron and steel, with the introduction of high-speed elevators, combined to develop a new type of sky-scraper; and as the nature of the soil was entirely unlike that of other cities, the foundations of these buildings presented problems which were solved by Chicago architects in various ways hitherto untried. The Rookery by Burnham & Root, Pullman Building by S. S. Beman, and the Auditorium (opera house, hotel, and office building in one) by Adler & Sullivan, at the time of their completion were most notable examples of architectural engineering, and were soon followed by many others more or less similar, designed by W. L. B. Jenny, Holabird & Roche, Henry Ives Cobb, and others. The buildings for the Chicago University, the Athletic Club, and Newbury Library, by the last-named architect, show a high degree of ability; the peculiarly rich arabesque ornamentation designed by Louis H. Sullivan, and the direct and rational handling of the buildings upon which it was used, are certainly indicative of the spirit of enthusiasm and conscientiousness of a well-trained mind. It is by such characteristics that John W. Root was able to accomplish so much for the advancement of architecture in the West.

What Krupp and Stumm had done for the employees in their works in Germany, Pullman determined to do for his men and their families here; and a town, with dwellings, schools, churches, water-works, etc., for many thousand inhabitants was designed and built by S. S. Beman, which has been reported by experts to be the best of its kind.

In Chicago, in 1893, was held our second international Exposition; and that the exhibits should be suitably housed, some of the most prominent architects of the country were called together, buildings were assigned to each of them, and Frederick Law Olmsted was appointed to lay out the grounds, waterways, and bridges.

TRINITY CHURCH, BOSTON.

Except for the difference in material, never did Rome in the days of Augustan magnificence show buildings similar to those grouped about the Court of Honor. A Greek would surely have been proud to walk through the Peristyle, or to have visited the Art Galleries, and a Roman to have sauntered about the Terminal Station or the triumphal arches of the Manufactures Building. Right nobly was the Spanish aid to Columbus acknowledged in the design of Machinery Hall; but to France, whose generosity had trained so many of our architects, sculptors, and painters to do such things, was the greatest triumph in the unanimity with which they had all worked and the success which crowned their labors.

The building occupied by the Federal Government was one of the few unworthy of its location or of the occasion. While the architecture of the people had been advancing steadily for fifty years, that provided by the Treasury Department in Washington had been quite as steadily retrograding. The Custom House, Boston; Sub-Treasury, New York; the Mint, in Philadelphia; the Treasury, Post Office, and Interior Department buildings, in Washington, have stood almost alone since the middle of the century. The few Gothic buildings referred to previously were honest and intelligent attempts to improve the quality of design for the government, but the politicians decided that artistic ability was not a prerequisite for the office of Supervising Architect.

Since 1895, there has been some infusion of new life into the designing-room, and such work as the designs by William Martin Aiken, for the Buffalo and San Francisco Post Offices and Court Houses, the Denver and the Philadelphia Mints, and the New London Post Office, were about being materialized, when once again the politicians, who cared not a whit for one design more than another, interfered to oblige the government contractor. But the good seed had been planted, and the work of the present incumbent, James Knox Taylor, is likely to show a marked advance over that of many previous years.

THE AMERICAN SURETY COMPANY’S BUILDING, NEW YORK.

THE AMERICAN SURETY COMPANY’S BUILDING, NEW YORK.

The general scheme of the Congressional Library was conceived by Smithmeyer & Pelz, the details carried out subsequently by General Casey and his able assistants and successors, and the building opened to the public in 1896. The experiment of the collaboration of sculptor and painter with the architect had resulted so favorably in Chicago, that the artists invited to decorate this building gladly responded; and although the remuneration was inconsiderable, their loyalty to the country, as to Art, resulted in such mural decoration as had not been seen since W. M. Hunt decorated the Senate Chamber in Albany, or La Farge did the figures in Trinity Church, Boston, and St. Thomas Church, New York. Blashfield’s dome, typifying all the nations of the earth; Vedder’s Minerva, in mosaic; H. O. Walker’s large lunettes, illustrating English poems, and Simmons’ small lunettes, filled with exquisite little figures, are but a few of the many interesting works in color. Two of the main entrance doors of bronze were modeled by Olin L. Warner, but he did not live to complete them. The marble stairway is by Martini, and the statues which adorn the main reading-room are by Adams, Bartlett, Partridge, Ward, and others.

The plan of the building is that of a central octagon containing the general reading-room, connected by wings containing the book-stacks with a surrounding hollow square containing rooms for special collections. There are ample reading-rooms for representatives, senators, and the public, and a tunnel by which books are sent to the Capitol. This is the last building of considerable importance constructed by the government, and it was built on time and within the appropriation of $6,000,000; it may be said to be dignified and suitable to its purpose, and to be representative of the people at the close of the century.

It now seems probable that New York will build the handsome library designed by Carrère & Hastings; the Egyptian lines of the reservoir occupying the site—emphasized by the varying hues of the ivy for so many seasons—will give place to those of an example of modern French Renaissance.

Among the changes incidental to the growth of this city is the recent disappearance of the old Tombs prison, which was another building of Egyptian architecture, good of its kind, and quite dignified and impressive.

There are certain other buildings designed in the style of a country almost as tropical as Egypt, and as light and airy as that is sombre and gloomy, but which seem quite as appropriate for their different purposes: they are the Casino Theatre and the Synagogue at Fifth Avenue and Forty-third Street,—each an excellent example of Saracenic architecture,—the former of brick and terra cotta, and the latter of vari-colored sandstones. Another synagogue, by Brunner & Tryon, further up the avenue and facing Central Park, has a decided Byzantine flavor,—the large arch accentuating the entrance, carrying a small arcade, and being surmounted by the traceried dome.

The largest and most expensively elaborate hotel in America is the Waldorf-Astoria; and although certain features of the exterior may not be justified by interior arrangements, it has certainly been planned with a view to great comfort and luxury.

While New York has the largest and most expensive private residences,—the chief of these is that of Cornelius Vanderbilt,—Philadelphia has the greatest number of small houses owned by their occupants; and of late years, there are a greater number of attractive homes in St. Louis than anywhere else in this country. Very many of them have been designed by Eames & Young, or by Shepley, Rutan & Coolidge; and with much open space about them, they have an air of elegance and hospitality that is lacking to the homes in most other cities.

New York, from its position as the commercial and financial centre of the country, in spite of its situation on a long, narrow island, may be accepted as the typical city. What is done here architecturally is done (only to a different degree) elsewhere, and its growth horizontally in the northern portion of the city has kept pace with its perpendicular growth in the more congested business portion. This general expansion has altogether changed the character of many streets, the residences becoming apartment houses, and the shops becoming office buildings from ten to twenty stories,—or even more,—the masses becoming larger and the detail proportionately less prominent.

The sky-line has entirely changed; the spire of Trinity is lost in such surroundings as the Bowling Green, Empire, Washington Life, and American Surety buildings, and in the vicinity where the Tribune tower was once conspicuous, now the St. Paul Building rises twenty-five stories, and the Ives Syndicate Building even higher; further and further up Broadway, and to the right and left of it, these monster buildings continue to rise. But among them all there is not one which shows a more masterly handling of the problem than the Surety, where the architect, Bruce Price, has emphasized the entrance with a colonnade and six figures of much dignity and grace, and has concentrated the ornament about the upper part of the building, crowning it with a fine cornice, which is more effective from the simplicity of the four walls beneath. This building holds its own among such others as the Washington Life and St. James buildings, New York, or the Ames Building, Boston, Harrison Building, Philadelphia, Schiller Theatre, Chicago, Wainwright Building, St. Louis, or Examiner Building, San Francisco.

It is impossible, in so brief a survey of the field, to enumerate more than a very small fraction of the buildings illustrating the progress of the architecture of the century; and aside from the residences, apartments, and hotels where we live winter or summer, and commercial buildings in which our working hours may be occupied, there are very many examples of churches, schools, colleges, libraries, and museums, donated, equipped, and endowed for our instruction, theatres and music halls for our entertainment, railroad stations for transportation, storage warehouses for the safety of valuables, and armories for the use of our militia.

Besides these, there are engineering works of considerable importance, such as the Eads Bridge, at St. Louis, or the Roebling Bridge, between New York and Brooklyn, and the works of the sculptor St. Gaudens, the Washington Arch by Stanford White, the Farragut and Lincoln statues in New York and in Chicago, which should surely be mentioned, since monumental works are the poetry, whereas the secular and commercial works are but the prose of architecture.

As we review our productions, we should certainly feel encouraged to believe that if we continue to meet and solve each problem in the same direct, honest way that we have been doing for the last quarter of the century, there need be no misgivings as to the future of architecture in these United States.

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THE CENTURY’S PROGRESS IN CHEMISTRY
By HARVEY W. WILEY, M.D., PH.D., LL.D.,
Chief Chemist Agricultural Department, Washington, D. C.

The science of chemistry, as it is known to-day, had its real origin towards the end of the eighteenth century. Before and up to that time it is true there were many great workers in chemistry, whose names are associated with investigations in chemical science, such as Boyle, Stahl, Black, and Scheele. Contemporary with the close of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth must also be mentioned particularly the names of Priestly (1733–1804), Cavendish and Humphry Davy (1778–1829). All these workers had to contend, first of all, with erroneous theories, which made it difficult to rightly interpret the data of experiment. The old theory of phlogiston produced an environment in which it was difficult for true scientific methods to survive. The great investigator, who did more than any other one man to overturn this false theory and place chemistry on a firm foundation, was Lavoisier (1743–1794). Born near the middle of the eighteenth century, his scientific activity began about 1770, and before he was twenty-five he was made a member of the French Academy of Sciences. At the age of forty he was recognized as the foremost scientist of his age.

Priestly discovered oxygen in 1774, but failed to recognize its true relations to other bodies. It was Lavoisier who discovered oxidation (1776), an achievement which meant more to chemistry than the discovery of oxygen.

The observation that metals when heated in confined air increased in weight while the volume of the confined air decreased, is the crucial experiment upon which the whole science of chemistry rests. This experiment was made most rigorously by Lavoisier, and the apparatus which he used is still preserved in the Museum of L’École des Arts et Métiers in Paris. This apparatus, simple in character and yet almost perfect in construction, has for the chemist a peculiar significance and sacredness, producing an impression similar to that inspired in the devout Christian by the relics of the Cross and the Holy Sepulchre.

In the brief space which is assigned for a discussion of the progress of chemistry during the nineteenth century, economy of words will be secured by briefly tracing some of the salient points in the progress of some of the more important branches of chemical science. In the following pages, therefore, will be found a brief statement of what has been accomplished, of the most important character, in the science of chemistry, under the following heads:—

Inorganic chemistry; physical chemistry; organic chemistry; analytical chemistry; synthetical chemistry; metallurgical chemistry; agricultural chemistry; graphic chemistry; didactic chemistry; chemistry of fermentation; and lastly electro-chemistry.

No attempt will be made in this paper to enter upon the discussion of the progress which has been made in medical, pharmaceutical, and physiological chemistry. The discussion outlined under the above heads does not by any means embrace the whole subject. It will be sufficient to indicate only the lines of progress along which the greatest advances have been made.