OLD-STYLE RAILROAD TRAIN.The locomotive and the railroad had come, such as they were. The locomotive had its boiler and its smokestack, its cylinders and driving wheels; but it had no cab for the engineer and the fireman, and no brake to stop the train. The tender was but a flat car, carrying fuel and water. The cars were merely stagecoaches made to run on rails, and in no way were the passengers protected from the smoke and cinders of the burning wood. Yet this poor, inconvenient railroad was a great advance in itself, and it foretold greater advances in the days to come.In 1835, five years after the opening of the first steam railroad in the United States, there were twenty-three roads and over a thousand miles of track. After 1835, an average of nearly four hundred miles was built yearly until 1848. From that time until the beginning of the Civil War, railroad construction proceeded with great rapidity, nearly two thousand miles of railroad being built each year. In 1849, a continuous line of railroad was completed between New York and Boston. Two years later two distinct lines were finished, connecting New York and Buffalo. At the end of another two years, through connection was had between New York and Chicago. At the same time railroadswere being built in all sections east of the Mississippi River.After peace was restored in 1865, came a great period of railroad building. During ten years the number of miles of railroad more than doubled, nearly four thousand miles being built each year. This was the period when the continuous lines, which had already reached the Missouri River, were continued across the continent. After five years of labor the Union Pacific Railroad, starting at Omaha, Nebraska, met at Ogden, Utah, the Central Pacific, which had been built from Sacramento, California. May 10th, 1869, the last spike was driven and the Pacific coast was bound to the Atlantic by bands of steel.Since the completion of the Union and Central Pacific railroads, four other through lines have been constructed across the Rocky Mountains, within the territory of the United States, and one in Canada. It is now possible to go from ocean to ocean in less than five days, and to have such a choice of routes that neither the cold of winter nor the heat of summer need be troublesome.At last the limit of rapid traveling seems to have been reached. Walking and horseback riding are indulged in only for pleasure and health; stagecoaches are used only for short lines where the railroad has not yet come; but all the long-distance traveling is now done behind the locomotive. Journeys of weeks have become trips of a few days, days have been lessened to hours, and the country has become knit together by rapid transit. Is there a chance for further improvement?CHAPTER VII.MODERN WATER TRAVEL.James Greenleafarrived in Duluth, one bright June day, four hundred and five years after the discovery of America. For nearly forty years he had been a missionary among the Indians of the British Northwest, but he had finally been persuaded to take a well-earned rest. Leaving his little settlement of red men, and taking a canoe, he had paddled up stream, carried his canoe over a portage, and paddled down a river until he reached Lake Superior, where a small sailboat had taken him to the flourishing city at the western end of the lake.At the hotel he found, as he expected, his nephew, Henry Towne. Mr. Towne was a commercial traveler, always "on the road," as he would say, for a large furniture establishment in New York. In a letter to his uncle he had stated that business would call him to Minnesota at just that time, and that he would make the journey with his uncle from Duluth to New York.The next day the two men started. The nephew had made all the necessary arrangements, having purchased tickets and engaged staterooms on the line of steamboats that connect Duluth with Buffalo. The first sight of the steamboat caused Mr. Greenleaf to exclaim at its size."It is not much like the steamboat that I took on theHudson in the spring of 1856," he said. "I imagine, however, that I shall see greater differences than this, the further I go."As the two men made a tour through the steamboat, the older gave expression to his thoughts in many ways."We did not have the saloon in those old days, when I did my traveling. Whenever we did not care to remain on the open deck there was no parlor to which we could go. No orchestra helped to while away our hours. No piano or organ added the charm of music to our journey.""But you had a state room to which you could retire," replied his companion, as they came to the rooms numbered 240 and 242, which numbers were on the keys that they had obtained at the purser's."Yes," said his uncle, "a tiny room, six feet by six, with narrow little berths, and two small stools. I can assure you that it was nothing like these comfortable sleeping rooms, brilliantly lighted, with regulation beds, convenient toilet arrangements, and carpeted floors. However, I do not imagine that the machinery will let me sleep any better now than then."The next morning, as the travelers went down to breakfast, the younger man asked, "Well, uncle, how did you sleep?""Never better," was the reply. "I tell you, Henry, I want to look at the machinery, after breakfast. It must be somewhat unlike the engine of my day, or the boat, large though it is, would have more of a jar."When the two men stood above the mammoth engine and noted the smooth working parts, the regular and even motion of the great piston rods in and out of the cylinders, the quietness and gentleness with which each movement took place,the uncle said: "More improvements have been made on the engine of forty years ago than had then been made on that of theClermont. And we used to think that the steamboats of our day were as much superior to Fulton's boat as his was ahead of Fitch's steam-moved paddles."We cannot take note of all the novel sensations that came to the old missionary, nor can we pause to relate many of the conversations between the two men. We can record a few only of the greater changes which were discussed as they continued their journey, and mention some of the comments called forth by the scenes through which Mr. Greenleaf was passing.On the afternoon of the second day the steamboat passed through the locks of the canal at Sault Ste. Marie."Uncle," remarked the drummer, "how does this canal compare with the Delaware and Hudson canal, with which you were familiar?""How can they be compared?" replied his uncle. "That was a long trench, hardly more than a scratch on the surface of the ground. This is broad and deep, though not long.""Yes," said Mr. Towne, "but there is no new principle here. This canal is somewhat wider and deeper; its locks and gates are somewhat larger. Still it is only a canal.""But we could not make such a hole in our day. We could not afford to hire men enough to dig it; it must have required many years to make this excavation.""Oh; this canal was not made as large as this when it was first built. It has been enlarged since. But you know that we do not do all our digging now by hand. Steam shovels do the work for us. That gives us a great advantage over the day laborer with his pick and shovel.""What strikes me as most noticeable," said Mr. Greenleaf,"is the number of vessels waiting on both sides of the lock. What causes such a crowd to-day, particularly?""This is no unusual number," replied Mr. Towne. "You do not realize what a traffic there is on the great lakes. It is stated that the tonnage passing through this canal is greater than that through any other strait on the face of the globe. This growth is very recent and very rapid.""But what causes the traffic and where are all the vessels going?" asked the missionary."The great bulk of the freight," answered the younger man, "is grain from the Northwest, and iron, copper, coal, and lumber, now being obtained in vast quantities south of Lake Superior. So long as the steamboats can carry freight more cheaply than the steam cars, grain and ores will take this route. Sometime we shall have canals large enough for ocean steamers, which will connect the great lakes with the Atlantic Ocean. Then we can load our freight at Chicago or Duluth and not change it until it is unloaded at some English or European port."The next day, as the steamboat was lying at the wharf at Detroit, conversation was turned to the great ferryboats plying across the river."I notice great changes in the steam ferries, since last I crossed the North River at New York," remarked Mr. Greenleaf."Yes," was the reply, "but you see only improvements. The ferryboats are larger and you might almost say clumsier; that is all.""I do not think so," returned the missionary. "There must be some new invention to enable entire trains, with cars filled with passengers, to be carried across such a river as this.""Of course," said his nephew, "the boat must be strong and large. However, the ferry docks have been improved. Now, when the boat is fastened, the wharf can be raised and lowered, until it is exactly on the level of the boat. Then not only passengers, but wagons and steam cars can pass from one to the other almost without knowledge of the change.""How far have these cars come that I see on the ferry?""That," said the drummer, "is one of the through trains from Montreal to Chicago. The ferryboat next beyond, going the other way, bears a train containing cars bound for New York and Boston.""Well, well! This is convenient," said the missionary. "The passengers are saved much trouble by not being required to gather up all their traveling bundles, leave the cars for the boat, and the boat for a new set of cars. We should have thought this a great gain, forty years ago.""But do you realize what an inconvenience this ferry causes? Much time is wasted, not only because of the slow movement of the boats, but also from the necessary delays in embarking and disembarking the cars.""Yes, I suppose so. But what would you do? Here is the river and it is too wide for a bridge.""Oh, no!" replied Mr. Towne. "The bridge could be built, but it would be expensive and would not pay. But what do you think of a tunnel?""A tunnel? What do you mean?" said the other man, with a touch of surprise in his voice for the first time. "A tunnel? Where? Not under the river?"Yes," answered his nephew, "a tunnel under the river. There is one, a few miles north, at Port Huron. There the train, instead of being delayed hours by the ferry, passes atalmost full speed directly under the river, proceeding on its way as though the river were not there.""Is not that something new?" asked Mr. Greenleaf.A RIVER TUNNEL."Yes. It was opened only a half-dozen years ago. It is said to be the greatest river tunnel in the world. It is a little over a mile long and is fifteen feet below the bed of the St. Clair River. Half a mile of it is directly under the water, yet no one passing through it would realize that it was different from any one of the hundreds of tunnels through which the railroads of this country pass. It is but a natural following out of such tunnels as the five-mile tunnel under the Hoosac Mountains in Massachusetts, or the three-quarter-mile tunnels in Jersey City, or the score of tunnels on the line of the Southern Railway over the Blue Ridge in North Carolina. It is a great tunnel to-day, of course, but when the North River tunnel is finished, from New York to Jersey City, this will be of little account in comparison."Detroit was soon left, Lake Erie was reached, and night came on. The next morning the steamboat reached its journey's end at Buffalo. Our friends hastened across the city and were soon seated in a sleeper, on the train for New York.CHAPTER VIII.MODERN LAND TRAVEL.Soonafter the train had started from the Buffalo station conversation began between Mr. Greenleaf and his nephew. "The steam is the same as in my day," remarked the former; "the steam pushes the piston in just the same way; there is no change in this direction. But all else is new.""Yes," said the drummer, "you must see great changes; tell me some of them.""Very well," was the reply. "The most noticeable thing about a railroad train used to be the jerking motion. We seemed to be going 'bump-i-ty-bump' all the time; and starting and stopping a train would often throw us off our feet.""Various improvements," said Mr. Towne, "have helped to produce this easy-riding motion. The roadbeds are laid with much greater care—long experience and numerous experiments have provided us with the best rails; but more especially the absence of jar is due to steel springs, and also to the breaks and couplers. When one car was attached to another by two bolts thrust through a ring, nothing was firm, as the bolts would slide forward and back with every motion of the car. The new automatic couplers hold the two cars more firmly together. Again, the old hand brakes have been replaced by the automatic air brake.""Yes, I have heard of that, but I do not understand it. Can you explain it to me?""I think so. George Westinghouse, Jr., about thirty years ago, took out a patent for the air brake. This alone has been enough to make him famous, although he has twelve hundred patents issued in his name. The Westinghouse air brake is now almost universally used. Some of the surplus steam in the locomotive pumps air into tanks in the cars, which air presses upon a piston, that moves a rod against the brakes. Thus the brakes can be held against the wheels with great force at the will of the engineer.""Well, the next thing that I notice," said the missionary, "is the improved comfort of the passengers. The cinders filled the cars in the old days; the air within was always bad; the candles gave more smoke than light; and in winter, the stoves at the end of the cars gave no heat in the center.""Yes, all that is changed," replied the younger man. "Spark arresters keep out the cinders; the overhead ventilators give us good air; bright light, almost like that of day, surrounds us in the evening; and, when wanted, the engine supplies steam in pipes running the entire length of the car, which gives even and ample heat.""This car is wider than ours used to be, is it not?" queried Mr. Greenleaf."Yes," was the reply. "When the first Pullman sleeping car, the 'Pioneer,' was run on the Chicago and Alton Railroad, it was wider and higher than the ordinary coaches. Several bridges had to be raised to allow the car to pass under; and all the station platforms were altered to permit it to pass. Since then, as Pullmans and Wagners have come into use on so many roads, many changes in bridges have been found necessary, and station platforms have almost universally been cut down to the ground.""Did I understand you to say that this is a sleeper?" asked Mr. Greenleaf. "Our sleeping cars, few and far between as they were, had berths or bunks three tiers high, fitted in on each side of the car, making it useless except to sleep in."A PULLMAN SLEEPER."That was the great feature of Mr. Pullman's invention," was the reply. "He saw that few railroad companies would care to go to the expense of running cars which could only be used for sleeping purposes. He was familiar with the 'old-fashioned, stuffy cars, where men sat in stiff-backed seats and dozed and yawned and waited for morning. By putting people to sleep this wide-awake man made a fortune.' You are sitting on the bed now. But here comes the porter to make up the berths next to us. The lady wishes to put her little boy to sleep."With much interest Mr. Greenleaf watched the porter make a sleeping room out of a sitting room. In a trice the cushions in the seats and backs were twisted about and laid from seat to seat, making a bed. With a jump, the porter stood on the arm of the seat, and turned a knob in the roof. Down came another bed, a few feet above the first. From this was pulled a triangular board which was placed betweenthe beds and the next seats. Sheets, blankets, and pillows, which had been shut up in the roof, were soon properly spread out, and two good beds were the result. Curtains were found above the upper bed, which, hung upon poles, shut the beds off from the car aisle. Behind these the mother undressed her child and put him to bed.Just at this moment a man went through the car crying "First call for dinner." Mr. Towne immediately jumped to his feet and said, "Let us go and get good seats.""You have forgotten your hat, Henry," said his uncle."I don't need it. Come, hurry," said Henry.Perplexed, the old man followed his nephew through three cars to the dining car, where they were soon seated at a little table, in front of a large window, from which everything they passed could be seen. It is not necessary to describe the dining room, for it was merely a well-furnished restaurant. The men ordered what they desired, and settled back to wait until their dinner was brought on."How is it, Henry, that we did not feel the wind as we passed from car to car? You hurried me so fast that I did not have time to notice.""Don't you see," said the drummer, "how attaching a dining car to a train required another change also? There used to be a rule of every railroad company forbidding the passengers to go from car to car while the train was in motion. When the company put on the 'diner,' it invited the people to break its own rule. So vestibule cars came next. Side doors are built on the car platforms and with these closed the regular car doors can be left open. Thus one can walk the entire length of the train, through sleeper, parlor car, dining car, smoking saloon, library, bath room, barbershop, and writing room, without once going out of doors. This is a modern vestibule train."One more interesting discussion took place the next morning as they were nearing New York City."Tell me something about modern bridges," said Mr. Greenleaf.BROOKLYN BRIDGE."Oh! I am afraid that is too long a story to tell during the time that we have left. There seems to be no limit to the engineering skill of to-day. The world-famous structures are being surpassed every little while by new ones. To-morrow you must see the Brooklyn Bridge. We have supposed that this great suspension bridge with its sixteen hundred feet from tower to tower was about the limit. But the cantilever bridge over the Forth in Scotland has a span more than a hundred feet longer than the East River bridge. When the North River bridge is built to Jersey City, with its proposed span of three thousand feet, these other great bridges will be small in comparison."Our bridges are mostly of steel rather than wood nowadays," he continued. "Since the Portage viaduct on the Erie road, which was eight hundred feet long and two hundred and thirty feet above the river, and contained a million and a half feet of lumber, was wholly burned in 1875, wooden bridges have usually been but temporary affairs. In these days of frequent trains, the engineer's skill is needed on theshorter bridges as well as on these enormous structures. Iron towers were put in place of stone towers, and iron beams in place of wooden ones, at the Niagara Suspension Bridge, without interfering with the trains. I read the other day how a new iron bridge took the place of an old wooden one. It was built across the river by the side of the railroad track; during the night, when there was less travel than during the daytime, the old bridge was moved off, the new one took its place, and in a few minutes trains were running over it. Whatever engineering work is needed nowadays, some one will soon be found prepared to provide it."At last the train entered the long cut and series of tunnels, which finally brought it to the Grand Central station on Forty-Second Street, New York City. Hurried along by the crowd, the aged sightseer hardly had an opportunity to make a remark about the immensity and grandeur of the brick station."But this station is poor and far behind the times," said Mr. Towne. "You should see some of the more modern ones that have recently been erected, or wait for the new New York station, which must soon be built. But let us hasten; I want to get home."The young drummer, accustomed to travel of all kinds, familiar with crowds, and wont to make his way anywhere, did not realize that his companion was having difficulty in keeping up with him as he hastened along the street. Receiving no answer to a question that he asked, he glanced around to find that his uncle was not with him. Inwardly accusing himself of remissness in forgetting his companion's lack of experience, he turned and rapidly retraced his steps. He found his uncle standing on a corner, not daring to cross the street; to the relief of the latter, he decided to take a horse car across town.Leaving the car at Sixth Avenue, the two men climbed the stairs to the elevated road. They had hardly purchased their tickets when a train drew up at the little station and a minute afterward they were off for Harlem. The horse-car ride, followed by that on the elevated road, started a discussion concerning street-car traffic. The horse car was remembered by the old missionary, who remarked that it came before the steam railroad.Mr. Towne replied, "Yes. But its day is nearly over. New York City does not seem to have fully outgrown this slow street travel, but elsewhere more rapid transit is the rule. New York is coming to it, however. The elevated roads cannot carry all the travel—the horse cars are too slow—the size of the city demands something more than we now have.""What do you expect will be done?" asked Mr. Greenleaf."We shall have to build a tunnel, an underground railway, a subway. Of course our roads must be either above ground, on the ground level, or below ground. The elevated roads have shown themselves to be unpleasant and annoying. It is not agreeable to look into the upper-story windows of dwellings, nor do people enjoy living on streets where the elevated road runs. Rapid transit is impossible in the street, where cross streets continually delay the cars, and where wagons and carriages of all sorts are regularly passing. The subway is the best method, the only decent way left open.""Would not such a tunnel be dark and damp, dirty and unhealthy in every sense?" asked his uncle."Oh! no," was the reply. "Boston has recently completed a subway, something like a mile and a half long, withtwo branches, which has proved its great advantages. Sheltered in winter, cool in summer, never blocked by teams nor interfered with by snow or ice, brilliantly lighted, with air wholesome and dry, and less liable to accidents than any other device yet tested, the Boston Subway is a great success.THE BOSTON SUBWAY."Did you say that there was no smoke?" again asked Mr. Greenleaf."No smoke at all. The cars are run by electricity, and cinders are therefore entirely absent.""Are electric cars coming into general use?" was the next question."Yes; throughout the country," replied Mr. Towne. "New York even now has its electric roads up town. Horse cars have been replaced by electric cars in almost every city. Cable cars are used in some places, but the electric is preferred. The last few years have seen a wonderful development in electricity in every way, but in no respect greater than in the increase of electric railways. For shorter lines they are competing with the steam cars, and seem to be winning the day. Some steam roads are equipping their lines for electric service, and report successful results so far as tried. Whether the electric car will wholly replace the steam car, time only will tell.""What a relief it must be to ride in a street car and notbe obliged to pity the poor horses as they tug and strain to pull the heavy loads!" added the old missionary."You know, I suppose," replied the drummer, "that not only from the street cars, but in other ways the horse is being retired. The bicycle has supplanted the horse and buggy for use in thousands of families, besides being where horses could never be afforded. And now we have automobiles, or horseless carriages, run by gasoline, naphtha, or electric motors. These are expensive, and comparatively few can yet afford them for private use. They are being used to a considerable extent in large cities, especially here in New York, for public service or for the delivery of goods from our large stores. But the expenses will gradually lessen, and perhaps the day when the horse is to rest has begun."ELECTRIC CAR, NEW YORK CITY."All this is wonderful," remarked his uncle. "We may walk still, if we wish. We may ride a horse or drive a carriage.We may take the stagecoach, or a private coach, or tally-ho. We may journey across the continent in palace steam cars. We may ride through a city on horse cars, or cable cars, or electric cars. We may travel on elevated tracks or underground. We may pedal our bicycles or ride in horseless carriages. We find good carriage roads, and excellent roadbeds for our railroads. Bridges and tunnels carry us over and under rivers, across ravines and through mountains. On the water, the canoe and the rowboat, the sailing vessel and the steamship, are at our disposal. Naphtha launches and electric yachts glide across the water. Harbors are dredged, lighthouses are erected, breakwaters are constructed, and canals are built, all for the use of travelers and commerce. The last years of the nineteenth century form an era in travel of which the world never dreamed."SAMUEL F. B. MORSE.MODERN PRINTING PRESSES.SECTION VI.—LETTERS.CHAPTER I.LANGUAGE.Whatis the difference between a dog and a boy, or, rather, what is the difference between the brute creation and mankind? It is as natural for a dog to think as for a boy; he sees and hears and touches, smells and tastes as well as does the boy; he remembers and, in a certain way, he may be said to reason; he loves and hates and fears; he is pleased and frightened; is revengeful; has his likes and dislikes, his tastes and prejudices; indeed, a dog, or a horse, or an elephant has many points of resemblance to a boy or a man. But there are essential points of difference.One of the most important differences is that man has the power of speech which is not possessed by the brute creation. This power of speech is a great boon to mankind, one held in common by all peoples in all ages.Talking or conversation suggests at least two persons, the speaker and the hearer, and involves the use of the vocal organs on the part of the talker and the ear, the instrument of hearing, on the part of the listener. This power of communicating thought, as has been said, is universal with the human race.In childhood one learns the language of his parents and of the people where he lives. In this country, Great Britain,Canada, and Australia, most of the people speak the English language; in France, the French tongue; in Russia, the Russian; in Germany, the German; in Turkey, the Arabic; and so on. This common speech forms a great bond of unity between all people of the same race, and by means of it we communicate our ideas one to another.There is another language differing widely from the gift of speech, yet quite as important for the welfare of the human race. Barbarous and savage tribes are dependent upon speech alone, but in civilized countries the people have acquired another art, that of writing, or of using a written language. In speech arbitrary sounds represent ideas. In writing arbitrary symbols or characters, called letters and words, are used. They are observed by the eye and not by the ear. This written language is as extended, as sharp, as definite, as full and complete, as is the language of speech. Moreover, it has a great advantage over speech. Words can be spoken only to a person immediately present, but words can be written and conveyed to one who is absent. No matter how far apart two persons are, each can communicate his ideas to the other just as well as if they were near.This written language has still greater usefulness. By means of it wise men of all countries who have had great thoughts, thoughts of value to the whole human race, have been enabled to put those thoughts into a permanent form. Thus they have been preserved and handed down from generation to generation, so that we inherit to-day the wealth of all the ages. We can make ourselves familiar with the great thoughts uttered by Jesus, by Socrates, Aristotle, Shakespeare, Milton, Burke, Patrick Henry, Daniel Webster, Emerson, Longfellow, and countless others, so that they become our own property. Moreover, when the eye gathersup these grand truths from the printed page, they are not absorbed, they still remain there. They may be used and transmitted again and again in the same book and upon the same page, even to future generations.On one occasion King Solomon said: "Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh." The second part of this sentence is certainly very true, but that is not saying anything against study, for anything that is worth doing is a cause of weariness. When we get weary the best thing is to get thoroughly rested, and after that to work until we become weary again. It does not injure a strong, well person to get healthily tired; on the contrary, the weariness which comes from normal exercise of the hands or the brain is better than inactive ease.ANCIENT IMPLEMENTS OF WRITING.What did Solomon mean when he made this sage remark, "Of making many books there is no end"? Under what circumstances was the remark made? We may not be able to answer the last question literally, but we may be permitted to imagine the circumstances. Let us suppose that the Queen of Sheba had made her famous visit to Jerusalem. She had heard in her own country of the acts and the wisdom of Solomon, and had come to the kingdom of Israel to see, with her own eyes, if these reports were true. She heard his wisdom from his own lips, for he "told her all her questions."Then the Queen of Sheba had said to Solomon: "It was atrue report which I heard in mine own land of thine acts, and of thy wisdom: howbeit, I believed not their words, until I came, and mine eyes had seen it: and, behold, the one half of the greatness of thy wisdom was not told me; for thou exceedest the fame that I heard. Happy are thy men, and happy are these thy servants, which stand continually before thee, and hear thy wisdom. Blessed be the Lord thy God, which delighted in thee to set thee on his throne, to be king for the Lord thy God."The Queen had gone home, and early one morning Solomon had risen from his couch and gone up to the flat roof of his house on Mount Zion just as the sun was rising. There in his meditations he thought to himself that the Queen of Sheba had paid him great honor and that he ought in courtesy to send her a suitable present. What should it be? He was impressed with the idea that he would send her a copy of the sacred books then in the keeping of the high priest. What present could be more appropriate, more honorable to him, more welcome to her, or more acceptable to Jehovah, the God of his people Israel?If he sent her a copy of these books it surely ought to be a perfect copy. Books were not printed in those days; they were written with the pen, or rather with the stylus. Solomon called a servant and said to him, "Send for the chief of the scribes. Bring him here." He came, and the king directed him to select only those scribes that could do perfect work, and to set them at the task of making the finest possible copy of the books of Moses and the other sacred books.Month after month went by, until finally the work was finished and the scribes were ushered into the royal presence, bearing in their arms the product of their long-continued labor. Roll after roll of the finest parchment was submittedto Solomon for inspection. Each skin began with an illuminated letter, and the whole work was done in the highest style of the art.AN ANCIENT SCRIBE.Well pleased was Solomon when these rolls were all properly packed, secured from rain, placed upon the backs of camels, and the caravan, with a military escort, had set out for the distant land of Sheba. Then again in the gray of the morning Solomon was at his meditations upon the housetop. Again he called a messenger who should summon to his presence the chief of the scribes."What was the cost of making the copy of our sacred writings for the Queen of Sheba? How many shekels have been paid to the scribes for their work?"When the chief scribe had found out he reported it to the king. "Is it indeed so much?" said the king; and when he had thought how many months it had taken for that large number of scribes to make a single copy of the sacred books, then he exclaimed: "Of makingmanybooks there is no end."CHAPTER II.THE PRINTING PRESS.Thetimes have changed since King Solomon's day. The art of printing has been discovered. Now it would be possible to make not merely one copy but thousands of copies, not only of the sacred books of the Jews in the time of Solomon, but of the entire Bible as we have it to-day. Not in the months required by the Jewish scribes, but in a single month, thousands of copies of the whole Bible could be printed from the type set in a single establishment in Boston, New York, or Philadelphia. Surely, before the art of printing one might truly say, "Of making books there is no end." But to-day our modern press sends out its volumes by millions, so that no longer is there any truth in this apparently wise statement of Solomon. It was true in his day, but times have changed.Two visitors were wending their way through Machinery Hall at the Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia in 1876. Clatter, clatter, clatter—clatter, clatter, clatter—jigger, jigger, jigger—jigger, jigger, jigger. What was that great machine that they were approaching? It was the Walter press, invented in London for the LondonTimes,—"The Thunderer." Well, well! the press does thunder, literally, does it not? It was printing that day's issue of the New YorkTimes, and there were coming from that press about twelve thousand copies of the double-size sheet in an hour. Well might it make a racket if it accomplished such a work as that.After the visitors were done admiring it they passed on, and a little beyond came suddenly upon another printing press which was doing its work in comparative silence. Before them stood a double Hoe perfecting press, printing the PhiladelphiaTimes, turning off thirty thousand copies per hour. These came out from the machine, folded ready for the wrappers or for the newsboy to take upon his arm and run out into the street to sell! So marvelous was the work of the American press. The original invention was surprising, but the progress that has been made in making type, setting it, electrotyping and inking, and making paper, as well as in the presswork, is beyond the power of description.There are vague, indefinite stories of printing by the Chinese a thousand years before Christ. The Greeks and Romans made metal stamps with characters engraved in relief. It was not, however, until about the middle of the fifteenth century that movable types were made with which books could be printed. The period between 1450 and 1500 witnessed a rapid advance of civilization in Europe. It was marked by a great revival of classical learning and art, and announced the dawn of modern civilization. At that time Europe began to come out into the light of reason, learning, and both civil and religious liberty. The mariner's compass had been invented; gunpowder had been discovered; and now the art of printing came into use. It would seem that no one man invented this art in the way that Stephenson invented the locomotive and Whitney the cotton gin. It grew up, one man doing a little, and another something more, until the system was brought to its present wonderful efficiency.It has been said that Coster of Haarlem, Holland, invented wooden types about 1428 and metal types a little later. About 1440 John Faust did a little printing, andothers also have claimed the invention. John Gutenberg is the only claimant who is known to have received honor during his life time as the true inventor. The evidence would seem to show that he was engaged in his secret process before the year 1440. He certainly had a printing office in 1448 at Mentz. About this time Faust came into possession of this printing office and managed it until his death. Among the earliest books printed were, "Letters of Indulgence," two editions of the Bible, and a Latin dictionary.John Baskerville, an Englishman, devoted his life and fortune to the improvement of printing. He was born in 1706 and died in 1775. He published an edition of Vergil in royal quarto, which was then and is still considered a wonderful specimen of beautiful printing. His English Bible, Book of Common Prayer, and editions of various classics are still admired and greatly sought. A Baskerville classic is difficult to find in these days and it commands a high price; when one is found it shows great skill, judgment, and taste.Baskerville made types much superior in distinctness and elegance to any that had previously been used. He improved greatly the lines of the letters, their style and appearance, making them as artistic as possible. To this end he planned in detail the style of all type which he used. He experimented also in the manufacture of ink to get that which had the most permanent color. He superintended the manufacture of the paper he used in order to obtain a finished surface best adapted to receive the impressions of the type.Printing in America during the colonial days was subject to much difficulty. The first printing press in our country was set up at Cambridge in the house of the president of Harvard College, Rev. Henry Dunster, in 1639. Eliot's Bible in the Indian language was printed upon this press between1660 and 1663. This same printing establishment is still in existence and has been known for many years as the University Press.The first Bible printed in America in any European language was a German Bible issued in 1743 by Christopher Sower in Germantown, Pennsylvania. This was a wonderful work for those early days. It was a large quarto Bible, consisting of 1,284 pages, and it took four years to complete the printing of it.A FRANKLIN PRESS.How quaint the early printing press would appear to us of to-day! It was used with very little change for one hundred and fifty years. The "forms" of type were placed upon wood or stone beds surrounded by frames called "coffins," moved in and out by hand with great labor, and after each impression the platen which had pressed the paper down upon the type had to be screwed up again with a bar. The presses which Benjamin Franklin used were made with wooden framework of the simplest possible construction. Iron frames were first used in England just one hundred years ago.Franklin, in his Autobiography, tells the story of his attempt to set up a printing establishment in Philadelphia. At first he found it difficult to obtain any work, but finallyhe was given the job of printing forty sheets of a "History of the Friends." The price offered was low, but Franklin and his partner, Meredith, decided to accept it as a beginning.Franklin set up the type for a sheet each day, while Meredith "worked it off at the press" the next day. The type had to be distributed every evening in order that it might be ready for the next day's composition. Therefore it was often late at night before Franklin finished his day's task, perhaps eleven o'clock or even later.Other little jobs came in to delay the printers, but Franklin was determined to do a sheet a day of the history. One night, just as his work was done, one of the forms was accidentally broken, and two pages "reduced to pi." Franklin, late as it was, distributed the pi and composed the form again before going to bed.Such industry and perseverance were sure to bring success in the end. Though, in the clubs and markets, every one was saying that the establishment must fail, since the two other printers in town had barely enough to do, yet Dr. Baird was nearer right; he used to say: "The industry of that Franklin is superior to any I ever saw of the kind; I see him at work when I go home from the club, and he is at work again before his neighbors are out of bed."To-day we have a great variety of printing presses which embody both science and art in skillful fashion. These range from the smallest size of hand presses, through numberless grades, varying in size, strength, power, rapidity, and ease of running, to the modern newspaper press and folder and the wonderful color printing press. One of the newspaper presses will print at one impression, from a single set of stereotype plates, papers of four, six, eight, ten, twelve, fourteen, or sixteen pages, at the rate of twelve thousandper hour, all cut at the top, pasted, and folded, with the supplement inserted at its proper place. With duplicate sets of plates, it will print sets of four, six, or eight page papers at the rate of twenty-four thousand per hour.Let us look for a moment at the method of inking the type. Until a comparatively recent date the inking was all done by hand, by means of an inking pad. The ink is now spread over the type with almost perfect regularity by means of flexible rollers.Great improvements have been made in typesetting. Several late inventions largely take the place of the old-fashioned setting by hand. One of these which is much used in newspaper work, and to some extent upon books and magazines, is called the linotype. By pressing the key of the proper letter upon a keyboard arranged something like a typewriter, the letter is pushed down, and when a line of letters and words has been completed, and the words properly spaced, this matrix is pressed down upon the melted type metal. The line is already stereotyped for use.The recent processes of stereotyping and electrotyping have added greatly to the cheapness, accuracy, and beauty of printing. Nearly all books formerly printed from movable type are now either stereotyped or electrotyped, so that edition after edition may be printed from the same plates.The art of printing has been called the "Divine Art." It is "the art preservative of all arts." To a large extent all civilization depends upon the art of printing.CHAPTER III.THE POSTAL SYSTEM.Wehave already seen that letters may be written and sent by mail to distant countries or cities. To send a letter to any place in our own country will cost us but two cents; to any country in Europe, but five cents. Indeed, we may send a letter to any one of the countries within the postal league,—and this includes most of the countries of Asia and South America, some parts of Africa and many islands of the sea,—for the same simple postage of five cents.But the time was when nothing of the kind could have been done. In the "long ago" there was no post-office system in any country; no mails, regular or irregular, were sent from one place to another.The modern postal system evidently grew out of the practice among kings of sending couriers to carry messages from one to another. In the early times some powerful rulers organized a staff of government couriers. After a time it came about that these government couriers began to carry letters from private individuals of high rank to their friends. So, in the process of time, this grew into a permanent system; that is, the government couriers were accustomed to carry private correspondence as well as the missives of the king.This transmission of letters by special couriers sent out by the king dates back to very early times. Explorations in Egypt have brought to light specimens of these letters datingback to a period of two thousand and even three thousand years ago. Upon what do you suppose those letters, sent so long ago and preserved to the present time, were written? They could not have been written upon paper, for paper was not known in those days, and could not have been preserved through so many ages; neither were they written upon parchment or upon the skins of animals. These letters which have stood the test of time for twenty or twenty-five centuries were written upon tablets of clay or of stone.The development of the modern postal system seems to have been begun in Great Britain. Some of the account books of the kings of England who lived about six hundred years ago have been preserved to the present time. In these are found records of letter-carrying on regular lines and at stated intervals. From this beginning the English postal system increased in efficiency and importance; when the colonists came to America they early made arrangements for the carrying of letters.The records of the General Court of Massachusetts show that in 1639 it was enacted "that notice be given Richard Fairbanks that his house in Boston is to be the place appointed for all letters which are brought from beyond the seas or are to be sent thither to be left with him, and he is to care for them, that they are to be delivered or sent according to the directions; he is allowed for every letter a penny, and must answer all mistakes from his own neglect of this kind." In 1657 the colonial law of Virginia required "that every planter was to provide a messenger to convey the dispatches as they arrived, to the next plantation and so on, paying and forfeiting a hogshead of tobacco for default."In 1672 it was agreed between some of the colonies along the coast that a post be sent once a month from New York toBoston. How should we be able to-day to transact business under such conditions? Now we have many mails a day between these two cities. Gradually the postal system was extended, and in 1730, Colonel Spotswood of Virginia was made Postmaster-General of the colonies by the British Government. In 1753, Dr. Franklin was made Postmaster-General. Franklin was very efficient in this office; he visited nearly all of the offices in the country in person, and introduced many improvements. In 1774, by his loyalty to the colonies, Franklin incurred the enmity of the British Government and was dismissed from the office. The next year, however, he was appointed Postmaster-General by the Continental Congress. In 1792, regular rates of letter postage were fixed by Congress, based on the distance to be sent.The writer remembers that when he was a boy he received a letter from his mother fifteen miles away for which he had to pay six cents postage. At another time a letter was received from his sister who was a little over thirty miles away, for which he had to pay eight cents; and when a schoolmate who lived more than sixty miles distant sent him a letter, he had to pay the postmaster ten cents in order to get it. These letters were written on coarse, heavy paper with quill pens. The letter was folded, and the fold of one side was tucked into the fold of the other side so as to leave but one thickness of paper outside of that fold. The letter was sealed by a wafer or by sealing wax dropped upon the paper where the two edges came together, and stamped with a seal. On the opposite side the letter was properly addressed. There were no envelopes in those days.See what changes have taken place within the memory of persons still living. To-day we write a letter, fold it, insert it in an envelope, and place on it a two-cent stamp; the carriercomes to the house, puts the letter in his pouch, carries it to the post office, and it is sent to California or any of the United States, Mexico or Canada, and delivered to the person to whom it is addressed.Postage stamps were not used on mail matter by government direction until the year 1840, and it was not until 1847 that the Government issued the first stamps for general use. Prior to that, however, individual postmasters, on their own responsibility, had printed and sold postage stamps. Within a few years their use became quite general in many countries.
OLD-STYLE RAILROAD TRAIN.
OLD-STYLE RAILROAD TRAIN.
The locomotive and the railroad had come, such as they were. The locomotive had its boiler and its smokestack, its cylinders and driving wheels; but it had no cab for the engineer and the fireman, and no brake to stop the train. The tender was but a flat car, carrying fuel and water. The cars were merely stagecoaches made to run on rails, and in no way were the passengers protected from the smoke and cinders of the burning wood. Yet this poor, inconvenient railroad was a great advance in itself, and it foretold greater advances in the days to come.
In 1835, five years after the opening of the first steam railroad in the United States, there were twenty-three roads and over a thousand miles of track. After 1835, an average of nearly four hundred miles was built yearly until 1848. From that time until the beginning of the Civil War, railroad construction proceeded with great rapidity, nearly two thousand miles of railroad being built each year. In 1849, a continuous line of railroad was completed between New York and Boston. Two years later two distinct lines were finished, connecting New York and Buffalo. At the end of another two years, through connection was had between New York and Chicago. At the same time railroadswere being built in all sections east of the Mississippi River.
After peace was restored in 1865, came a great period of railroad building. During ten years the number of miles of railroad more than doubled, nearly four thousand miles being built each year. This was the period when the continuous lines, which had already reached the Missouri River, were continued across the continent. After five years of labor the Union Pacific Railroad, starting at Omaha, Nebraska, met at Ogden, Utah, the Central Pacific, which had been built from Sacramento, California. May 10th, 1869, the last spike was driven and the Pacific coast was bound to the Atlantic by bands of steel.
Since the completion of the Union and Central Pacific railroads, four other through lines have been constructed across the Rocky Mountains, within the territory of the United States, and one in Canada. It is now possible to go from ocean to ocean in less than five days, and to have such a choice of routes that neither the cold of winter nor the heat of summer need be troublesome.
At last the limit of rapid traveling seems to have been reached. Walking and horseback riding are indulged in only for pleasure and health; stagecoaches are used only for short lines where the railroad has not yet come; but all the long-distance traveling is now done behind the locomotive. Journeys of weeks have become trips of a few days, days have been lessened to hours, and the country has become knit together by rapid transit. Is there a chance for further improvement?
MODERN WATER TRAVEL.
James Greenleafarrived in Duluth, one bright June day, four hundred and five years after the discovery of America. For nearly forty years he had been a missionary among the Indians of the British Northwest, but he had finally been persuaded to take a well-earned rest. Leaving his little settlement of red men, and taking a canoe, he had paddled up stream, carried his canoe over a portage, and paddled down a river until he reached Lake Superior, where a small sailboat had taken him to the flourishing city at the western end of the lake.
At the hotel he found, as he expected, his nephew, Henry Towne. Mr. Towne was a commercial traveler, always "on the road," as he would say, for a large furniture establishment in New York. In a letter to his uncle he had stated that business would call him to Minnesota at just that time, and that he would make the journey with his uncle from Duluth to New York.
The next day the two men started. The nephew had made all the necessary arrangements, having purchased tickets and engaged staterooms on the line of steamboats that connect Duluth with Buffalo. The first sight of the steamboat caused Mr. Greenleaf to exclaim at its size.
"It is not much like the steamboat that I took on theHudson in the spring of 1856," he said. "I imagine, however, that I shall see greater differences than this, the further I go."
As the two men made a tour through the steamboat, the older gave expression to his thoughts in many ways.
"We did not have the saloon in those old days, when I did my traveling. Whenever we did not care to remain on the open deck there was no parlor to which we could go. No orchestra helped to while away our hours. No piano or organ added the charm of music to our journey."
"But you had a state room to which you could retire," replied his companion, as they came to the rooms numbered 240 and 242, which numbers were on the keys that they had obtained at the purser's.
"Yes," said his uncle, "a tiny room, six feet by six, with narrow little berths, and two small stools. I can assure you that it was nothing like these comfortable sleeping rooms, brilliantly lighted, with regulation beds, convenient toilet arrangements, and carpeted floors. However, I do not imagine that the machinery will let me sleep any better now than then."
The next morning, as the travelers went down to breakfast, the younger man asked, "Well, uncle, how did you sleep?"
"Never better," was the reply. "I tell you, Henry, I want to look at the machinery, after breakfast. It must be somewhat unlike the engine of my day, or the boat, large though it is, would have more of a jar."
When the two men stood above the mammoth engine and noted the smooth working parts, the regular and even motion of the great piston rods in and out of the cylinders, the quietness and gentleness with which each movement took place,the uncle said: "More improvements have been made on the engine of forty years ago than had then been made on that of theClermont. And we used to think that the steamboats of our day were as much superior to Fulton's boat as his was ahead of Fitch's steam-moved paddles."
We cannot take note of all the novel sensations that came to the old missionary, nor can we pause to relate many of the conversations between the two men. We can record a few only of the greater changes which were discussed as they continued their journey, and mention some of the comments called forth by the scenes through which Mr. Greenleaf was passing.
On the afternoon of the second day the steamboat passed through the locks of the canal at Sault Ste. Marie.
"Uncle," remarked the drummer, "how does this canal compare with the Delaware and Hudson canal, with which you were familiar?"
"How can they be compared?" replied his uncle. "That was a long trench, hardly more than a scratch on the surface of the ground. This is broad and deep, though not long."
"Yes," said Mr. Towne, "but there is no new principle here. This canal is somewhat wider and deeper; its locks and gates are somewhat larger. Still it is only a canal."
"But we could not make such a hole in our day. We could not afford to hire men enough to dig it; it must have required many years to make this excavation."
"Oh; this canal was not made as large as this when it was first built. It has been enlarged since. But you know that we do not do all our digging now by hand. Steam shovels do the work for us. That gives us a great advantage over the day laborer with his pick and shovel."
"What strikes me as most noticeable," said Mr. Greenleaf,"is the number of vessels waiting on both sides of the lock. What causes such a crowd to-day, particularly?"
"This is no unusual number," replied Mr. Towne. "You do not realize what a traffic there is on the great lakes. It is stated that the tonnage passing through this canal is greater than that through any other strait on the face of the globe. This growth is very recent and very rapid."
"But what causes the traffic and where are all the vessels going?" asked the missionary.
"The great bulk of the freight," answered the younger man, "is grain from the Northwest, and iron, copper, coal, and lumber, now being obtained in vast quantities south of Lake Superior. So long as the steamboats can carry freight more cheaply than the steam cars, grain and ores will take this route. Sometime we shall have canals large enough for ocean steamers, which will connect the great lakes with the Atlantic Ocean. Then we can load our freight at Chicago or Duluth and not change it until it is unloaded at some English or European port."
The next day, as the steamboat was lying at the wharf at Detroit, conversation was turned to the great ferryboats plying across the river.
"I notice great changes in the steam ferries, since last I crossed the North River at New York," remarked Mr. Greenleaf.
"Yes," was the reply, "but you see only improvements. The ferryboats are larger and you might almost say clumsier; that is all."
"I do not think so," returned the missionary. "There must be some new invention to enable entire trains, with cars filled with passengers, to be carried across such a river as this."
"Of course," said his nephew, "the boat must be strong and large. However, the ferry docks have been improved. Now, when the boat is fastened, the wharf can be raised and lowered, until it is exactly on the level of the boat. Then not only passengers, but wagons and steam cars can pass from one to the other almost without knowledge of the change."
"How far have these cars come that I see on the ferry?"
"That," said the drummer, "is one of the through trains from Montreal to Chicago. The ferryboat next beyond, going the other way, bears a train containing cars bound for New York and Boston."
"Well, well! This is convenient," said the missionary. "The passengers are saved much trouble by not being required to gather up all their traveling bundles, leave the cars for the boat, and the boat for a new set of cars. We should have thought this a great gain, forty years ago."
"But do you realize what an inconvenience this ferry causes? Much time is wasted, not only because of the slow movement of the boats, but also from the necessary delays in embarking and disembarking the cars."
"Yes, I suppose so. But what would you do? Here is the river and it is too wide for a bridge."
"Oh, no!" replied Mr. Towne. "The bridge could be built, but it would be expensive and would not pay. But what do you think of a tunnel?"
"A tunnel? What do you mean?" said the other man, with a touch of surprise in his voice for the first time. "A tunnel? Where? Not under the river?
"Yes," answered his nephew, "a tunnel under the river. There is one, a few miles north, at Port Huron. There the train, instead of being delayed hours by the ferry, passes atalmost full speed directly under the river, proceeding on its way as though the river were not there."
"Is not that something new?" asked Mr. Greenleaf.
A RIVER TUNNEL.
A RIVER TUNNEL.
"Yes. It was opened only a half-dozen years ago. It is said to be the greatest river tunnel in the world. It is a little over a mile long and is fifteen feet below the bed of the St. Clair River. Half a mile of it is directly under the water, yet no one passing through it would realize that it was different from any one of the hundreds of tunnels through which the railroads of this country pass. It is but a natural following out of such tunnels as the five-mile tunnel under the Hoosac Mountains in Massachusetts, or the three-quarter-mile tunnels in Jersey City, or the score of tunnels on the line of the Southern Railway over the Blue Ridge in North Carolina. It is a great tunnel to-day, of course, but when the North River tunnel is finished, from New York to Jersey City, this will be of little account in comparison."
Detroit was soon left, Lake Erie was reached, and night came on. The next morning the steamboat reached its journey's end at Buffalo. Our friends hastened across the city and were soon seated in a sleeper, on the train for New York.
MODERN LAND TRAVEL.
Soonafter the train had started from the Buffalo station conversation began between Mr. Greenleaf and his nephew. "The steam is the same as in my day," remarked the former; "the steam pushes the piston in just the same way; there is no change in this direction. But all else is new."
"Yes," said the drummer, "you must see great changes; tell me some of them."
"Very well," was the reply. "The most noticeable thing about a railroad train used to be the jerking motion. We seemed to be going 'bump-i-ty-bump' all the time; and starting and stopping a train would often throw us off our feet."
"Various improvements," said Mr. Towne, "have helped to produce this easy-riding motion. The roadbeds are laid with much greater care—long experience and numerous experiments have provided us with the best rails; but more especially the absence of jar is due to steel springs, and also to the breaks and couplers. When one car was attached to another by two bolts thrust through a ring, nothing was firm, as the bolts would slide forward and back with every motion of the car. The new automatic couplers hold the two cars more firmly together. Again, the old hand brakes have been replaced by the automatic air brake."
"Yes, I have heard of that, but I do not understand it. Can you explain it to me?"
"I think so. George Westinghouse, Jr., about thirty years ago, took out a patent for the air brake. This alone has been enough to make him famous, although he has twelve hundred patents issued in his name. The Westinghouse air brake is now almost universally used. Some of the surplus steam in the locomotive pumps air into tanks in the cars, which air presses upon a piston, that moves a rod against the brakes. Thus the brakes can be held against the wheels with great force at the will of the engineer."
"Well, the next thing that I notice," said the missionary, "is the improved comfort of the passengers. The cinders filled the cars in the old days; the air within was always bad; the candles gave more smoke than light; and in winter, the stoves at the end of the cars gave no heat in the center."
"Yes, all that is changed," replied the younger man. "Spark arresters keep out the cinders; the overhead ventilators give us good air; bright light, almost like that of day, surrounds us in the evening; and, when wanted, the engine supplies steam in pipes running the entire length of the car, which gives even and ample heat."
"This car is wider than ours used to be, is it not?" queried Mr. Greenleaf.
"Yes," was the reply. "When the first Pullman sleeping car, the 'Pioneer,' was run on the Chicago and Alton Railroad, it was wider and higher than the ordinary coaches. Several bridges had to be raised to allow the car to pass under; and all the station platforms were altered to permit it to pass. Since then, as Pullmans and Wagners have come into use on so many roads, many changes in bridges have been found necessary, and station platforms have almost universally been cut down to the ground."
"Did I understand you to say that this is a sleeper?" asked Mr. Greenleaf. "Our sleeping cars, few and far between as they were, had berths or bunks three tiers high, fitted in on each side of the car, making it useless except to sleep in."
A PULLMAN SLEEPER.
A PULLMAN SLEEPER.
"That was the great feature of Mr. Pullman's invention," was the reply. "He saw that few railroad companies would care to go to the expense of running cars which could only be used for sleeping purposes. He was familiar with the 'old-fashioned, stuffy cars, where men sat in stiff-backed seats and dozed and yawned and waited for morning. By putting people to sleep this wide-awake man made a fortune.' You are sitting on the bed now. But here comes the porter to make up the berths next to us. The lady wishes to put her little boy to sleep."
With much interest Mr. Greenleaf watched the porter make a sleeping room out of a sitting room. In a trice the cushions in the seats and backs were twisted about and laid from seat to seat, making a bed. With a jump, the porter stood on the arm of the seat, and turned a knob in the roof. Down came another bed, a few feet above the first. From this was pulled a triangular board which was placed betweenthe beds and the next seats. Sheets, blankets, and pillows, which had been shut up in the roof, were soon properly spread out, and two good beds were the result. Curtains were found above the upper bed, which, hung upon poles, shut the beds off from the car aisle. Behind these the mother undressed her child and put him to bed.
Just at this moment a man went through the car crying "First call for dinner." Mr. Towne immediately jumped to his feet and said, "Let us go and get good seats."
"You have forgotten your hat, Henry," said his uncle.
"I don't need it. Come, hurry," said Henry.
Perplexed, the old man followed his nephew through three cars to the dining car, where they were soon seated at a little table, in front of a large window, from which everything they passed could be seen. It is not necessary to describe the dining room, for it was merely a well-furnished restaurant. The men ordered what they desired, and settled back to wait until their dinner was brought on.
"How is it, Henry, that we did not feel the wind as we passed from car to car? You hurried me so fast that I did not have time to notice."
"Don't you see," said the drummer, "how attaching a dining car to a train required another change also? There used to be a rule of every railroad company forbidding the passengers to go from car to car while the train was in motion. When the company put on the 'diner,' it invited the people to break its own rule. So vestibule cars came next. Side doors are built on the car platforms and with these closed the regular car doors can be left open. Thus one can walk the entire length of the train, through sleeper, parlor car, dining car, smoking saloon, library, bath room, barbershop, and writing room, without once going out of doors. This is a modern vestibule train."
One more interesting discussion took place the next morning as they were nearing New York City.
"Tell me something about modern bridges," said Mr. Greenleaf.
BROOKLYN BRIDGE.
BROOKLYN BRIDGE.
"Oh! I am afraid that is too long a story to tell during the time that we have left. There seems to be no limit to the engineering skill of to-day. The world-famous structures are being surpassed every little while by new ones. To-morrow you must see the Brooklyn Bridge. We have supposed that this great suspension bridge with its sixteen hundred feet from tower to tower was about the limit. But the cantilever bridge over the Forth in Scotland has a span more than a hundred feet longer than the East River bridge. When the North River bridge is built to Jersey City, with its proposed span of three thousand feet, these other great bridges will be small in comparison.
"Our bridges are mostly of steel rather than wood nowadays," he continued. "Since the Portage viaduct on the Erie road, which was eight hundred feet long and two hundred and thirty feet above the river, and contained a million and a half feet of lumber, was wholly burned in 1875, wooden bridges have usually been but temporary affairs. In these days of frequent trains, the engineer's skill is needed on theshorter bridges as well as on these enormous structures. Iron towers were put in place of stone towers, and iron beams in place of wooden ones, at the Niagara Suspension Bridge, without interfering with the trains. I read the other day how a new iron bridge took the place of an old wooden one. It was built across the river by the side of the railroad track; during the night, when there was less travel than during the daytime, the old bridge was moved off, the new one took its place, and in a few minutes trains were running over it. Whatever engineering work is needed nowadays, some one will soon be found prepared to provide it."
At last the train entered the long cut and series of tunnels, which finally brought it to the Grand Central station on Forty-Second Street, New York City. Hurried along by the crowd, the aged sightseer hardly had an opportunity to make a remark about the immensity and grandeur of the brick station.
"But this station is poor and far behind the times," said Mr. Towne. "You should see some of the more modern ones that have recently been erected, or wait for the new New York station, which must soon be built. But let us hasten; I want to get home."
The young drummer, accustomed to travel of all kinds, familiar with crowds, and wont to make his way anywhere, did not realize that his companion was having difficulty in keeping up with him as he hastened along the street. Receiving no answer to a question that he asked, he glanced around to find that his uncle was not with him. Inwardly accusing himself of remissness in forgetting his companion's lack of experience, he turned and rapidly retraced his steps. He found his uncle standing on a corner, not daring to cross the street; to the relief of the latter, he decided to take a horse car across town.
Leaving the car at Sixth Avenue, the two men climbed the stairs to the elevated road. They had hardly purchased their tickets when a train drew up at the little station and a minute afterward they were off for Harlem. The horse-car ride, followed by that on the elevated road, started a discussion concerning street-car traffic. The horse car was remembered by the old missionary, who remarked that it came before the steam railroad.
Mr. Towne replied, "Yes. But its day is nearly over. New York City does not seem to have fully outgrown this slow street travel, but elsewhere more rapid transit is the rule. New York is coming to it, however. The elevated roads cannot carry all the travel—the horse cars are too slow—the size of the city demands something more than we now have."
"What do you expect will be done?" asked Mr. Greenleaf.
"We shall have to build a tunnel, an underground railway, a subway. Of course our roads must be either above ground, on the ground level, or below ground. The elevated roads have shown themselves to be unpleasant and annoying. It is not agreeable to look into the upper-story windows of dwellings, nor do people enjoy living on streets where the elevated road runs. Rapid transit is impossible in the street, where cross streets continually delay the cars, and where wagons and carriages of all sorts are regularly passing. The subway is the best method, the only decent way left open."
"Would not such a tunnel be dark and damp, dirty and unhealthy in every sense?" asked his uncle.
"Oh! no," was the reply. "Boston has recently completed a subway, something like a mile and a half long, withtwo branches, which has proved its great advantages. Sheltered in winter, cool in summer, never blocked by teams nor interfered with by snow or ice, brilliantly lighted, with air wholesome and dry, and less liable to accidents than any other device yet tested, the Boston Subway is a great success.
THE BOSTON SUBWAY.
THE BOSTON SUBWAY.
"Did you say that there was no smoke?" again asked Mr. Greenleaf.
"No smoke at all. The cars are run by electricity, and cinders are therefore entirely absent."
"Are electric cars coming into general use?" was the next question.
"Yes; throughout the country," replied Mr. Towne. "New York even now has its electric roads up town. Horse cars have been replaced by electric cars in almost every city. Cable cars are used in some places, but the electric is preferred. The last few years have seen a wonderful development in electricity in every way, but in no respect greater than in the increase of electric railways. For shorter lines they are competing with the steam cars, and seem to be winning the day. Some steam roads are equipping their lines for electric service, and report successful results so far as tried. Whether the electric car will wholly replace the steam car, time only will tell."
"What a relief it must be to ride in a street car and notbe obliged to pity the poor horses as they tug and strain to pull the heavy loads!" added the old missionary.
"You know, I suppose," replied the drummer, "that not only from the street cars, but in other ways the horse is being retired. The bicycle has supplanted the horse and buggy for use in thousands of families, besides being where horses could never be afforded. And now we have automobiles, or horseless carriages, run by gasoline, naphtha, or electric motors. These are expensive, and comparatively few can yet afford them for private use. They are being used to a considerable extent in large cities, especially here in New York, for public service or for the delivery of goods from our large stores. But the expenses will gradually lessen, and perhaps the day when the horse is to rest has begun."
ELECTRIC CAR, NEW YORK CITY.
ELECTRIC CAR, NEW YORK CITY.
"All this is wonderful," remarked his uncle. "We may walk still, if we wish. We may ride a horse or drive a carriage.We may take the stagecoach, or a private coach, or tally-ho. We may journey across the continent in palace steam cars. We may ride through a city on horse cars, or cable cars, or electric cars. We may travel on elevated tracks or underground. We may pedal our bicycles or ride in horseless carriages. We find good carriage roads, and excellent roadbeds for our railroads. Bridges and tunnels carry us over and under rivers, across ravines and through mountains. On the water, the canoe and the rowboat, the sailing vessel and the steamship, are at our disposal. Naphtha launches and electric yachts glide across the water. Harbors are dredged, lighthouses are erected, breakwaters are constructed, and canals are built, all for the use of travelers and commerce. The last years of the nineteenth century form an era in travel of which the world never dreamed."
SAMUEL F. B. MORSE.
SAMUEL F. B. MORSE.
MODERN PRINTING PRESSES.
MODERN PRINTING PRESSES.
LANGUAGE.
Whatis the difference between a dog and a boy, or, rather, what is the difference between the brute creation and mankind? It is as natural for a dog to think as for a boy; he sees and hears and touches, smells and tastes as well as does the boy; he remembers and, in a certain way, he may be said to reason; he loves and hates and fears; he is pleased and frightened; is revengeful; has his likes and dislikes, his tastes and prejudices; indeed, a dog, or a horse, or an elephant has many points of resemblance to a boy or a man. But there are essential points of difference.
One of the most important differences is that man has the power of speech which is not possessed by the brute creation. This power of speech is a great boon to mankind, one held in common by all peoples in all ages.
Talking or conversation suggests at least two persons, the speaker and the hearer, and involves the use of the vocal organs on the part of the talker and the ear, the instrument of hearing, on the part of the listener. This power of communicating thought, as has been said, is universal with the human race.
In childhood one learns the language of his parents and of the people where he lives. In this country, Great Britain,Canada, and Australia, most of the people speak the English language; in France, the French tongue; in Russia, the Russian; in Germany, the German; in Turkey, the Arabic; and so on. This common speech forms a great bond of unity between all people of the same race, and by means of it we communicate our ideas one to another.
There is another language differing widely from the gift of speech, yet quite as important for the welfare of the human race. Barbarous and savage tribes are dependent upon speech alone, but in civilized countries the people have acquired another art, that of writing, or of using a written language. In speech arbitrary sounds represent ideas. In writing arbitrary symbols or characters, called letters and words, are used. They are observed by the eye and not by the ear. This written language is as extended, as sharp, as definite, as full and complete, as is the language of speech. Moreover, it has a great advantage over speech. Words can be spoken only to a person immediately present, but words can be written and conveyed to one who is absent. No matter how far apart two persons are, each can communicate his ideas to the other just as well as if they were near.
This written language has still greater usefulness. By means of it wise men of all countries who have had great thoughts, thoughts of value to the whole human race, have been enabled to put those thoughts into a permanent form. Thus they have been preserved and handed down from generation to generation, so that we inherit to-day the wealth of all the ages. We can make ourselves familiar with the great thoughts uttered by Jesus, by Socrates, Aristotle, Shakespeare, Milton, Burke, Patrick Henry, Daniel Webster, Emerson, Longfellow, and countless others, so that they become our own property. Moreover, when the eye gathersup these grand truths from the printed page, they are not absorbed, they still remain there. They may be used and transmitted again and again in the same book and upon the same page, even to future generations.
On one occasion King Solomon said: "Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh." The second part of this sentence is certainly very true, but that is not saying anything against study, for anything that is worth doing is a cause of weariness. When we get weary the best thing is to get thoroughly rested, and after that to work until we become weary again. It does not injure a strong, well person to get healthily tired; on the contrary, the weariness which comes from normal exercise of the hands or the brain is better than inactive ease.
ANCIENT IMPLEMENTS OF WRITING.
ANCIENT IMPLEMENTS OF WRITING.
What did Solomon mean when he made this sage remark, "Of making many books there is no end"? Under what circumstances was the remark made? We may not be able to answer the last question literally, but we may be permitted to imagine the circumstances. Let us suppose that the Queen of Sheba had made her famous visit to Jerusalem. She had heard in her own country of the acts and the wisdom of Solomon, and had come to the kingdom of Israel to see, with her own eyes, if these reports were true. She heard his wisdom from his own lips, for he "told her all her questions."
Then the Queen of Sheba had said to Solomon: "It was atrue report which I heard in mine own land of thine acts, and of thy wisdom: howbeit, I believed not their words, until I came, and mine eyes had seen it: and, behold, the one half of the greatness of thy wisdom was not told me; for thou exceedest the fame that I heard. Happy are thy men, and happy are these thy servants, which stand continually before thee, and hear thy wisdom. Blessed be the Lord thy God, which delighted in thee to set thee on his throne, to be king for the Lord thy God."
The Queen had gone home, and early one morning Solomon had risen from his couch and gone up to the flat roof of his house on Mount Zion just as the sun was rising. There in his meditations he thought to himself that the Queen of Sheba had paid him great honor and that he ought in courtesy to send her a suitable present. What should it be? He was impressed with the idea that he would send her a copy of the sacred books then in the keeping of the high priest. What present could be more appropriate, more honorable to him, more welcome to her, or more acceptable to Jehovah, the God of his people Israel?
If he sent her a copy of these books it surely ought to be a perfect copy. Books were not printed in those days; they were written with the pen, or rather with the stylus. Solomon called a servant and said to him, "Send for the chief of the scribes. Bring him here." He came, and the king directed him to select only those scribes that could do perfect work, and to set them at the task of making the finest possible copy of the books of Moses and the other sacred books.
Month after month went by, until finally the work was finished and the scribes were ushered into the royal presence, bearing in their arms the product of their long-continued labor. Roll after roll of the finest parchment was submittedto Solomon for inspection. Each skin began with an illuminated letter, and the whole work was done in the highest style of the art.
AN ANCIENT SCRIBE.
AN ANCIENT SCRIBE.
Well pleased was Solomon when these rolls were all properly packed, secured from rain, placed upon the backs of camels, and the caravan, with a military escort, had set out for the distant land of Sheba. Then again in the gray of the morning Solomon was at his meditations upon the housetop. Again he called a messenger who should summon to his presence the chief of the scribes.
"What was the cost of making the copy of our sacred writings for the Queen of Sheba? How many shekels have been paid to the scribes for their work?"
When the chief scribe had found out he reported it to the king. "Is it indeed so much?" said the king; and when he had thought how many months it had taken for that large number of scribes to make a single copy of the sacred books, then he exclaimed: "Of makingmanybooks there is no end."
THE PRINTING PRESS.
Thetimes have changed since King Solomon's day. The art of printing has been discovered. Now it would be possible to make not merely one copy but thousands of copies, not only of the sacred books of the Jews in the time of Solomon, but of the entire Bible as we have it to-day. Not in the months required by the Jewish scribes, but in a single month, thousands of copies of the whole Bible could be printed from the type set in a single establishment in Boston, New York, or Philadelphia. Surely, before the art of printing one might truly say, "Of making books there is no end." But to-day our modern press sends out its volumes by millions, so that no longer is there any truth in this apparently wise statement of Solomon. It was true in his day, but times have changed.
Two visitors were wending their way through Machinery Hall at the Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia in 1876. Clatter, clatter, clatter—clatter, clatter, clatter—jigger, jigger, jigger—jigger, jigger, jigger. What was that great machine that they were approaching? It was the Walter press, invented in London for the LondonTimes,—"The Thunderer." Well, well! the press does thunder, literally, does it not? It was printing that day's issue of the New YorkTimes, and there were coming from that press about twelve thousand copies of the double-size sheet in an hour. Well might it make a racket if it accomplished such a work as that.
After the visitors were done admiring it they passed on, and a little beyond came suddenly upon another printing press which was doing its work in comparative silence. Before them stood a double Hoe perfecting press, printing the PhiladelphiaTimes, turning off thirty thousand copies per hour. These came out from the machine, folded ready for the wrappers or for the newsboy to take upon his arm and run out into the street to sell! So marvelous was the work of the American press. The original invention was surprising, but the progress that has been made in making type, setting it, electrotyping and inking, and making paper, as well as in the presswork, is beyond the power of description.
There are vague, indefinite stories of printing by the Chinese a thousand years before Christ. The Greeks and Romans made metal stamps with characters engraved in relief. It was not, however, until about the middle of the fifteenth century that movable types were made with which books could be printed. The period between 1450 and 1500 witnessed a rapid advance of civilization in Europe. It was marked by a great revival of classical learning and art, and announced the dawn of modern civilization. At that time Europe began to come out into the light of reason, learning, and both civil and religious liberty. The mariner's compass had been invented; gunpowder had been discovered; and now the art of printing came into use. It would seem that no one man invented this art in the way that Stephenson invented the locomotive and Whitney the cotton gin. It grew up, one man doing a little, and another something more, until the system was brought to its present wonderful efficiency.
It has been said that Coster of Haarlem, Holland, invented wooden types about 1428 and metal types a little later. About 1440 John Faust did a little printing, andothers also have claimed the invention. John Gutenberg is the only claimant who is known to have received honor during his life time as the true inventor. The evidence would seem to show that he was engaged in his secret process before the year 1440. He certainly had a printing office in 1448 at Mentz. About this time Faust came into possession of this printing office and managed it until his death. Among the earliest books printed were, "Letters of Indulgence," two editions of the Bible, and a Latin dictionary.
John Baskerville, an Englishman, devoted his life and fortune to the improvement of printing. He was born in 1706 and died in 1775. He published an edition of Vergil in royal quarto, which was then and is still considered a wonderful specimen of beautiful printing. His English Bible, Book of Common Prayer, and editions of various classics are still admired and greatly sought. A Baskerville classic is difficult to find in these days and it commands a high price; when one is found it shows great skill, judgment, and taste.
Baskerville made types much superior in distinctness and elegance to any that had previously been used. He improved greatly the lines of the letters, their style and appearance, making them as artistic as possible. To this end he planned in detail the style of all type which he used. He experimented also in the manufacture of ink to get that which had the most permanent color. He superintended the manufacture of the paper he used in order to obtain a finished surface best adapted to receive the impressions of the type.
Printing in America during the colonial days was subject to much difficulty. The first printing press in our country was set up at Cambridge in the house of the president of Harvard College, Rev. Henry Dunster, in 1639. Eliot's Bible in the Indian language was printed upon this press between1660 and 1663. This same printing establishment is still in existence and has been known for many years as the University Press.
The first Bible printed in America in any European language was a German Bible issued in 1743 by Christopher Sower in Germantown, Pennsylvania. This was a wonderful work for those early days. It was a large quarto Bible, consisting of 1,284 pages, and it took four years to complete the printing of it.
A FRANKLIN PRESS.
A FRANKLIN PRESS.
How quaint the early printing press would appear to us of to-day! It was used with very little change for one hundred and fifty years. The "forms" of type were placed upon wood or stone beds surrounded by frames called "coffins," moved in and out by hand with great labor, and after each impression the platen which had pressed the paper down upon the type had to be screwed up again with a bar. The presses which Benjamin Franklin used were made with wooden framework of the simplest possible construction. Iron frames were first used in England just one hundred years ago.
Franklin, in his Autobiography, tells the story of his attempt to set up a printing establishment in Philadelphia. At first he found it difficult to obtain any work, but finallyhe was given the job of printing forty sheets of a "History of the Friends." The price offered was low, but Franklin and his partner, Meredith, decided to accept it as a beginning.
Franklin set up the type for a sheet each day, while Meredith "worked it off at the press" the next day. The type had to be distributed every evening in order that it might be ready for the next day's composition. Therefore it was often late at night before Franklin finished his day's task, perhaps eleven o'clock or even later.
Other little jobs came in to delay the printers, but Franklin was determined to do a sheet a day of the history. One night, just as his work was done, one of the forms was accidentally broken, and two pages "reduced to pi." Franklin, late as it was, distributed the pi and composed the form again before going to bed.
Such industry and perseverance were sure to bring success in the end. Though, in the clubs and markets, every one was saying that the establishment must fail, since the two other printers in town had barely enough to do, yet Dr. Baird was nearer right; he used to say: "The industry of that Franklin is superior to any I ever saw of the kind; I see him at work when I go home from the club, and he is at work again before his neighbors are out of bed."
To-day we have a great variety of printing presses which embody both science and art in skillful fashion. These range from the smallest size of hand presses, through numberless grades, varying in size, strength, power, rapidity, and ease of running, to the modern newspaper press and folder and the wonderful color printing press. One of the newspaper presses will print at one impression, from a single set of stereotype plates, papers of four, six, eight, ten, twelve, fourteen, or sixteen pages, at the rate of twelve thousandper hour, all cut at the top, pasted, and folded, with the supplement inserted at its proper place. With duplicate sets of plates, it will print sets of four, six, or eight page papers at the rate of twenty-four thousand per hour.
Let us look for a moment at the method of inking the type. Until a comparatively recent date the inking was all done by hand, by means of an inking pad. The ink is now spread over the type with almost perfect regularity by means of flexible rollers.
Great improvements have been made in typesetting. Several late inventions largely take the place of the old-fashioned setting by hand. One of these which is much used in newspaper work, and to some extent upon books and magazines, is called the linotype. By pressing the key of the proper letter upon a keyboard arranged something like a typewriter, the letter is pushed down, and when a line of letters and words has been completed, and the words properly spaced, this matrix is pressed down upon the melted type metal. The line is already stereotyped for use.
The recent processes of stereotyping and electrotyping have added greatly to the cheapness, accuracy, and beauty of printing. Nearly all books formerly printed from movable type are now either stereotyped or electrotyped, so that edition after edition may be printed from the same plates.
The art of printing has been called the "Divine Art." It is "the art preservative of all arts." To a large extent all civilization depends upon the art of printing.
THE POSTAL SYSTEM.
Wehave already seen that letters may be written and sent by mail to distant countries or cities. To send a letter to any place in our own country will cost us but two cents; to any country in Europe, but five cents. Indeed, we may send a letter to any one of the countries within the postal league,—and this includes most of the countries of Asia and South America, some parts of Africa and many islands of the sea,—for the same simple postage of five cents.
But the time was when nothing of the kind could have been done. In the "long ago" there was no post-office system in any country; no mails, regular or irregular, were sent from one place to another.
The modern postal system evidently grew out of the practice among kings of sending couriers to carry messages from one to another. In the early times some powerful rulers organized a staff of government couriers. After a time it came about that these government couriers began to carry letters from private individuals of high rank to their friends. So, in the process of time, this grew into a permanent system; that is, the government couriers were accustomed to carry private correspondence as well as the missives of the king.
This transmission of letters by special couriers sent out by the king dates back to very early times. Explorations in Egypt have brought to light specimens of these letters datingback to a period of two thousand and even three thousand years ago. Upon what do you suppose those letters, sent so long ago and preserved to the present time, were written? They could not have been written upon paper, for paper was not known in those days, and could not have been preserved through so many ages; neither were they written upon parchment or upon the skins of animals. These letters which have stood the test of time for twenty or twenty-five centuries were written upon tablets of clay or of stone.
The development of the modern postal system seems to have been begun in Great Britain. Some of the account books of the kings of England who lived about six hundred years ago have been preserved to the present time. In these are found records of letter-carrying on regular lines and at stated intervals. From this beginning the English postal system increased in efficiency and importance; when the colonists came to America they early made arrangements for the carrying of letters.
The records of the General Court of Massachusetts show that in 1639 it was enacted "that notice be given Richard Fairbanks that his house in Boston is to be the place appointed for all letters which are brought from beyond the seas or are to be sent thither to be left with him, and he is to care for them, that they are to be delivered or sent according to the directions; he is allowed for every letter a penny, and must answer all mistakes from his own neglect of this kind." In 1657 the colonial law of Virginia required "that every planter was to provide a messenger to convey the dispatches as they arrived, to the next plantation and so on, paying and forfeiting a hogshead of tobacco for default."
In 1672 it was agreed between some of the colonies along the coast that a post be sent once a month from New York toBoston. How should we be able to-day to transact business under such conditions? Now we have many mails a day between these two cities. Gradually the postal system was extended, and in 1730, Colonel Spotswood of Virginia was made Postmaster-General of the colonies by the British Government. In 1753, Dr. Franklin was made Postmaster-General. Franklin was very efficient in this office; he visited nearly all of the offices in the country in person, and introduced many improvements. In 1774, by his loyalty to the colonies, Franklin incurred the enmity of the British Government and was dismissed from the office. The next year, however, he was appointed Postmaster-General by the Continental Congress. In 1792, regular rates of letter postage were fixed by Congress, based on the distance to be sent.
The writer remembers that when he was a boy he received a letter from his mother fifteen miles away for which he had to pay six cents postage. At another time a letter was received from his sister who was a little over thirty miles away, for which he had to pay eight cents; and when a schoolmate who lived more than sixty miles distant sent him a letter, he had to pay the postmaster ten cents in order to get it. These letters were written on coarse, heavy paper with quill pens. The letter was folded, and the fold of one side was tucked into the fold of the other side so as to leave but one thickness of paper outside of that fold. The letter was sealed by a wafer or by sealing wax dropped upon the paper where the two edges came together, and stamped with a seal. On the opposite side the letter was properly addressed. There were no envelopes in those days.
See what changes have taken place within the memory of persons still living. To-day we write a letter, fold it, insert it in an envelope, and place on it a two-cent stamp; the carriercomes to the house, puts the letter in his pouch, carries it to the post office, and it is sent to California or any of the United States, Mexico or Canada, and delivered to the person to whom it is addressed.
Postage stamps were not used on mail matter by government direction until the year 1840, and it was not until 1847 that the Government issued the first stamps for general use. Prior to that, however, individual postmasters, on their own responsibility, had printed and sold postage stamps. Within a few years their use became quite general in many countries.