In the beginning of the nineteenth century, when the little metal pieces of type were picked up one at a time and placed in the composing “stick” by hand, there was attached to the work an importance which elevated it almost to the ranks of the trained professions. In England, as late as 1817, compositors arrogated to themselves the dignity of carrying swords. At the close of the nineteenth century, the art is seen to be passing into the sphere of mechanics,—the methods in vogue making it entirely a mechanical operation. Before many years of the twentieth century have passed, there will have been attained a degree of advancement which will dispense with the hand of man in guiding the movements of the machine. The inventive skill which brought the printing press to such a high point of excellence and speed has been turned toward the work of type-composing, and the forward march is likely to be as rapid.

Outside of the actual learned professions, no occupation has contributed so many prominent figures to the history and progress of this country as the composing-room. They have filled important places in journalism, politics, Congress, state legislatures, the army and navy, and the world of literature.

Horace Greeley, the founder of the New York “Tribune,”—writer, statesman, and man of affairs,—is one of the notable figures of the present century, who laid the foundation of his career at a case of type.

Schuyler Colfax, who became Vice-President of the United States in 1869, passed the early years of his life setting type.

And, strange to say, these two men, when the presidential chair seemed a possible realization of their ambition, were opposed by men of their craft simply because they had seemed to run so far above the “stick” and “rule.”

Simon Cameron, of Pennsylvania, once Secretary of War, United States senator, representative of the United States abroad, and for many years political master of his great State, was proud to say that he had begun his career as a type-setter in a country printing-office. It is worth while noticing that this printer-politician’s life covered nearly a century of existence. His life spanned every president from John Adams in 1799 to Benjamin Harrison in 1889, while his active political control of Pennsylvania covered a period of sixty-five years,—a record made by only one man within the history of the United States.

Every state in the Union has contributed to history its quota of printer-statesmen, printer-authors, and printer-journalists. How many of such there have been in this nineteenth century would be beyond ordinary research to ascertain. But printers—compositors—can refer with just pride to the fact that in all the advanced walks of life are to be found men who have been members of the guild.

The setting of type by hand prevailed universally until as late as 1880. That may be put down as the period when there came into anything like general use the machines for type composition, although experiments in that direction had been going on for sixty years.

As early as 1820, printers realized that machinery eventually must be brought into play for composing type. But how to do it was the scientific as well as mechanical problem. It was argued that the machine must be so constructed as to pick up the type, uniformly distribute the space between the words, and “justify” the lines, that is, make them the exact width.

“It is beyond the range of possibility,” suggested the printer. “Mechanism never can be applied to art. The great Benjamin Franklin would have discovered the way to make such a thing possible, if it were possible—which is impossible.”