churches, which almost always provide a strong conservative influence in the community, were slow to yield to those irresistible tendencies which wrested Manhattan Island from the Dutch and made it Anglican in society, civil policy, and religion. With great reluctance the old Dutch burghers consented at the beginning of the last century to the substitution of the English language for their own in their churches, and then only because the change was absolutely necessary to prevent the rising generation from wandering away into other communions. At that time Grace Church stood on the corner of Rector Street and Broadway. Old Trinity Church, like the new, looked down Wall Street and towered above what was then the oldest Presbyterian organization in the city. In i8re St. John's Chapel was just in process of erection far out in the country, much to the amusement of the stolid and sober burghers. The contractor who did the masonwork on the building lived at that time in Greenwich Village, and the distance to his residence in Christopher Street was too great to admit of his going back and forth every day, so he found a lodging-place in the vicinity where he boarded, returning home once a week. Not to be outdone by their Episcopal neighbors, the Dutch Reformed sent out a colony and planted a collegiate church in the outskirts of the city, at the corner of William and Fulton Streets. The first Methodist church in America had been organized forty years before in Philip Embury's carpenter shop, not far from the location of the present City Hall; and the John Street Church, the precursor of Methodist churches in this country, was erected in 1768. The Methodist Episcopal Church was organized in 1784, and Wesleyan Chapel did not adopt its present name until 1817. It is one of the indications of the progressive character of early Methodism that, at a time when literature was hardly recognized in this country as a power, and even the systematic printing and publication of the Scriptures had but just commenced, it provided the first church in John Street with a valuable library for the use of the congregation. Nevertheless, Methodism at that time had hardly begun to give promise of its future power. The great religious and educational societies, now such useful and important auxiliaries of the church, came into existence years later.

American literature was still in its infancy. Of the men whose names became of national importance, Washington Irving was born in 1783; Cooper in 1789; Bryant in 1794; Hawthorne in 1804; Whittier and Longfellow in 1807, At the time of which I write, Irving, a romantic youth of seventeen, was wandering through the picturesque suburbs of Manhattan Island, studying the scenes and characters for his inimitable sketches, and gathering that raw material which later burst forth so brilliantly upon the world in Knickerbocker's imperishable History of New York, Cooper, a young midshipman, was acquiring on sea and lake familiarity with sailor and Indian life which he afterward turned to such good account in his nautical and pioneer romances; Bryant, still a boy preparing for college, had earned a precocious fame by the publication of '* The Embargo'' and '' The Spanish Revolution*'; Halleck was coining his boyish verses by the light of the kitchen fire with Leah Norton for audience and critic. There were as yet few American authors and few American books. Periodical literature had made a beginning, but even that was transient and unsubstantial.

The demand for books was comparatively limited; the prosperous citizens as a rule had but little inclination for literary pursuits, and the masses sought for employment rather than entertainment. Our public-school system, which has made books and papers a necessity of life, came later into existence. The prototype at that time was a charity-school, founded by the Friends and chiefly sustained by their contributions. This school did good service in the cause of pioneer instruction, and it was not until 1853 that the charter of the society was relinquished and its property placed under the control of the Board of Education.

This outline sketch will give the reader some idea of the New York to which James Harper came in December, 1810.

Ill

It was a bitterly cold day when Joseph Harper and his son James drove in from the village of Newtown. They followed the circuitous route from which Fulton Street, built along the old post-road, still descends to the ferry at the foot of Brooklyn Heights, and then, crossing the stream in an old scow, propelled by long sweeps, drove up on the other side to the boy's place of business, the printing establishment of Paul & Thomas on the corner of Burling Slip and Water Street.

James Harper's entire capital was a sound mind in a strong body, the latter qualification being in those days important, if not essential, to the practical printer. Steampower had not yet been applied to printing-presses—in fact, the art of printing had made but little advance since the apprentice days of Franklin. The press was still

I worked by hand, and under these circumstances printing was slow and laborious, so that the largest circulation

\ obtained by the most successful daily newspapers was

jvery small.

Two men, known as'' partners," were required to work a press. One applied the ink with hand-balls, for even the ink-roller was not yet invented, and the other laid on sheets and did the "pulling.'' They changed work at regular intervals, one "inking" and the other "pulling." Both operations required dexterity, and "pulling" much strength as well. James Harper's vigor and weight gave him a special advantage, and so, if he found himself hampered by a personally unpleasant partner, he could always work him down and so be rid of him, being thus enabled to choose his own associate. During the early days of his apprenticeship he would remain at his press after the other men had quit work whenever he could secure a partner to assist him. The product of such extra work was a perquisite, whereby he managed to increase his income to a considerable extent. Thurlow Weed was an apprentice at the same time, and they usually worked together, often remaining late into the evening.

Thurlow Weed, long afterward, when he had become the Warwick of New York politics, in speaking of these early days, said of James Harper: "It was the rule of his life to study not how little he could do, but how much. Often, after a good day's work, he would say to me, 'Thurlow, let's break the back of another token [two hundred and fifty impressions]—just break its back.' I would generally consent reluctantly, 'just to break the back' of the token; but James would beguile me, or laugh at my complaints, and never let me off until the token was completed, fair and square. It was a custom with us in the summer to do a clear half-day's work before the other boys and men got their breakfast. James and I would meet by appointment in the gray of the early morning, and go down to the printing-room. A pressman who could do twenty, or even ten, per cent, more work than usual was always sure of a position. James Harper, Tom Kennedy (long since dead), and I made the largest bills in the city. We often earned as much as fourteen dollars per week—*