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Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la methode. 1 2 3 4 5 6 MICROCOPV RESOLUTION TBT CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No 2) A APPLIED IM/1GE I :sr- '&^-' fast Mam Stre«» ^^S Rochester. New rork U609 USA "■^SS (7}6) 482 - 0300 - Phone ^B (716) 2B8- 5989 - Fo„ NoSSlTI'lh ^M/hihiMiiuN |(A. ,o\\) V Mi.AM/iii u. !'l H! i lifli I!\ 1 ht' Aiiirih'an idsututf Mif;'M :;'■ ' M ! V III ! .. X • t ■ i H i •-; I ■*e' (I" • ROSSITER WORTHINGTON RAYMOND A MK.MOKIAL ri liLlSIIKU BY The American Institute of Mining and Metallurgical Engineers Edited nr T. A. RICKARD Office of •: ►' .Secretary ENGINEERING SOCIETIES BUILDING 29 WEST 39TH STREET NEW YORK, N. Y. / TN/A^-Ti-^R^ CopYRIDHT, 1920, BY THIl American Institute or Minino and METALLUHairAL Ehoineers VBa ifAPi.B rumtin roHK VA :/~S:r^' P' EFACE Thin incinorial volume in inciint (o nerve an a p<'nn!i' nt reccjrd of tlio wrviees rendered hy U«w«iler W. Uiiyinorid to the Aiiierirtiii Institute of MiniriK Knuiiu'ern and to the iiiiiiiiiK profewHion. The der>eription of thi" Mettiorial 8erviee and i he formal biography are reproduc«-d from the^ official bulletin of the Institute. The volume wouM have In-en larger and more comprehenKive if Dr. Haynion«l had not outlived three of his most a Abbott, has added greatly to the value of this memorial by eontribu ,j? an inti- mate account of his work for Plymouth Church. Mr. Janii .-. F. Kemp, Professor of (Jeology in Cohunbia I'niversity, speaks for the gcHiloxical branch of the mining profession, although he writes also on other phases of Dr. Raymond's life. Mnjor Arthur S. Dwight, a nephew of the Doc- tor, represents the metallurgical bra;.- of the prv fh. n r"*^ Kesolutions, prepared by Dr. A. R. Ledouxand pa.ssed by the Directors, were then read: "The Board of Directors of the American Institute of Mining Engi- neers would place upon its minutes its profound sense of loss and sorrow m the death of Rossiter Worthington Raymond, Ph.D., LL.D., secretary enieritus of the Institute. Both as one of its founde;s and as its ic^ r( tary for 27 years, his was the guiding spirit of the Institute for more than a generation. 1 ""'•!i'"»K *'"' «''™''"'' '»*»'•♦■ "f t'»« '""X P"iod, it miglu ul„M,..t have been said that the Institute wa.s Dr. Raymond-and Dr Raymond he nstitute. When,, with the progress of growth and .levelopn ent gr a .•hunges were .ntn,duced. Dr. Raymon.l acquiesce,! in rhes.. i„ „pi'e o some misg. angs, such as those with which a father might contemplate i MRMOHIAL SERVICE tlu' cineiKcine of his child from the careful supervision of the home; but as st'cretary emeritus for the past eight years, he was always ready with "aluable advice and helpful suggestion. "His presence at the annual meetings was aii inspiration, which his rare abiUty as a speaker further enhanced. Among the most ersatile of men of genius, among the most distinguished as a mining engineer— a scholar, editor, and auti ority on mining law, yet to his personal friends he revealed a simplicity, a loyalty, and a steadfastness which held his intimates and bound them to him in spite of time and change. "With his death there closes an epoch in the history of American mining and metallurgy. The Institute thereby loses one of its great leaders, but his example will Hve as an inspiration to those who survive, within its councils, and his name will be long an inspiration for many who knew him only through our Transactions and by his other writings." Mr. T. A. Ri.-kard was appointed editor for the Raymond memorial biographical volume. Afterward, Dr. Henry S. Drinker, president of Lehigh University, and one of the two survivors of the 22 who attended the first session of the Institute, was introduced. Address of Dr. Drinker A friend, whom we loved, has gone from among us. He was a man who by his genius dominated any jsembly in which he stood. He was a teacher of teachers, a leader in all the many lines in which his energetic able personality led him. Of his eminence as an engineer, and of his abihty, learning, and sur- passing power in argument and presentation as an expert and as a lawyer, I will not speak — the tributes paid him by Mr. Rickard and Mr. Ingalls are so well studied that they should stand as the record of our friend's professional reputation. He was a wonderful man in the absolute ab- sence of pretense in all that he said and did. If Raymond said it you could rely it was so — and his mind was so encyclopedic — his learning so vast, that association with him was an education, intensive and broad. It was my privilege to know him for a life-time. We were associated with the founding of our Institute at Wilkes-Barre in May, 1871. I was then a young fellow just stepping out into practice from college training under Rothwell in the Lehigh School of Mines, and Rayn.ond and Roth- well, Coxe and Coryell, the men who organized the first coming together of the Institute, were men in the leadership of the profession, earnest, enthusiastic — early exponents of the profession they dignified and, in fact, introduced into this country. From the beginning, Dr. Raymond's trained mind, inexhaustible energy, and wonderful aptitude of expression, enhanced by his personal charm of manner, meant everything in the early setting and development MEMORIAL SERVICE 3 of our Institute, windi has grown into such a power in the engineering progress of our land. We all pay tribute to Dr. Raymond's recognized ability and power of leadership— but there are today but few of ug left wJio can personally turn and look back over a half century of acti-.al association with hin., a precious privilege filled with memories of a man of whom it may well be said, he was typical of "Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatso- ever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good i port", for he was of virtu^-and we may well, in thinking of him, think of these things. Dr. Raymond was generous in his enco iragement and aid to younger men. I can personally, with all my heart, echo the words of Ingalls i- his recent splendid tribute to Raymond where he speaks of having in hi early association with the 'Engineering and Mining Journal' looked on Raymond as "a guide, philosopher, and friend"— trite words, but never more aptly, or better, or more truthfully applied. Dr. Raymond's history has been recorded, and his engineering record has been and is being given by men far better fitted than I to do technical justice to so large a subject. It is for me as one of Raymond's many friends and admirers, one of his old friends, yet speaking from the stand- point of one younger than he and ever looking up to him as a leader aad teacher, to pay tribute to his personal quaUties that so endeared him to all who were privileged to know him. I owe a great personal debt to him for encouragement and aid to me as a young man, and I am moved to speak of It only as an instance of what was common to so many, for he was ever ready with counsel and cheering words of uplift and practical suggestion to the younger men who came under his observatiou, and in this he typified in person what our Institute has done as an association. Found- ed as it was by n^en of large heart and human sympathy, such as Ray- mond and Eckley B. Coxe, the Institute, particularly in its younger days when our membership was small, and the friendships engendered among members were intimate and common to all, did, -nd indeed has ever continued to do, a great work in giving to young engineers who came into Its fold opportunity for betterment by association with older and eminent men, with an opening for the publication antl discussion of their engineer- ing experiences and theories. In the development of this practice, and as the able editor for many years of our Transactions, Dr. Raymond ever showed his kindly sympathetic helpful nature, and the men— and their number i.s legion— whom he so aided, pay triljute today to his moiiiory with loving gratitude and appreciation. Ho was a wonderful man in his faculty' of doing so well so many different things. Did his record rest only on his professional work as mining engineer metallurgist, and mining lawyer, his friends might be content, but he MKMORIAL HERVICIS was not euiiteitt with ttuH. Dr. Hillis huH told uh in his beautiful tribute to our friend, of Dr. Raymond's leadership in religious work in Plymouth ('hurch, and how after Mr. Beecher's death Dr. Raymond was asked to retire from his engineering and editorial work and take up the pastorate of Plymouth Church (and how beautifully his reply reflects Dr. Raymond in his si "erity, good judgment, and never-failing humor). Dr. Raymond said that the providence of God, through his fathers, had lent him certain gifts, and by His providence guided him into an appointed path; and now that his life journey had been two-thirds fulfilled, he did not believe that the Lord was going to return to the beginning of that path; and revei'se Himself; and he would, therefore, follow the way appointed to the end of the road. Ard in Plymouth Church and th( iriendships he made and cherished there, we can see how, while laboring for the good of his fellow-men, and for their souls' good, he yet rested from his professional work, and took pleasure and solace in his touch with the Church .»nd Sunday-school in which his heart delighted. His addresses in the Church, of which many have been published, show a vivid and ever-fresh and inspiring flood of wise help ful admonition and teaching — and his annual Christmas stories to the Sunday-school children — fifty in all, ending with the one given on Sunday, December 29th, only two days before his death on December 31st, are a unique and l)eautiful illustration O-' the faculty he possessed of using his great gifts for the young. The fiftieth and last of his Sunday-school addresses is as vivid in interest as its predecessors, among which those ■ ho read them can never forget the delicious talks chronicling the woodhcuck who inhabited the Doctor's garden at Washington, Connecticut, and who is introduced with the words, "At our place in the country, where we spend five or six months of the year, we have, among other fascinating attractions, a woodchuck of our own. That is nothing very remarkable. The whole region is full of woodchucks, and the difficulty is not to have one.* * * Our garden is not far from his hole on the lawn, yet he never ionies into the garden — for vhich reason we call him Maud, after the iatly in Tennyson's poem. That lady did come into the garden; but then she was invited. If the gentleman had sung to her, 'Don't come into the garden, Maud', or even if he had never mentioned the garden, I am sure she would have stayed away politely, just as our Maud does," — and then the address goes on with Raymond's never-ending sen.se of humor, delicioiisly cnnphasizing the wise words on current events and international j-oliti s that are voiced by the woodchuck in his conference with his host. As Ingalls has well said. Dr. Raymond was one of the most remarkable rases of versatility that our country has ever seen — sailor, scldier, engi- neer, lawyer, orator, editor, novelist, story-teller, poet, biblical critic, MEMORIAL SERVICE 6 theologian, teachor, chess-player — he was superior in each capacity. What he did lie always did well. In his writings and poems bin ever-present wnse of hiunor shone out — and yet always there was an adumbration of wise reflection or suggestion— of t<>n u direct emphasis of ailvier on current questions of the day. In his wonderful story of 'The Man in the Moon', published over forty years ago, and doubtless reflecting some of his own personal expe'riencee as an officer in ihe Civil War, Dr. haymond recorded in his inimitable way what today may well be read as a prophetic utterance on the folly and the wickedness of the World War, in his account of the way that the opposing soldiers in the ranks came together on Christmas Day, and how a sentiment in favor of peace spread from the ranks to the peoples concerned until the generals in charge of the w«ir, and the governing authorities of the countries concerned, awakened to the folly of the contention in which they had been striving and came together in a peaceful solution. The story is an immortal one, and those of you who have not read it, have a great treat in store when you find it. 'The Man in the Moon — A War Story'. Dr. Rayn. nd's home-life was ideally beautiful and loving. On Christmas Day just passed this Uttle poem— so characteristic of him, and so expressive of the love he bore Mrs. Raymond, accompanied his gift to her of a bond : 'Tis strange. Oh Lady ! fair and fond Of me (as likewise I of you) * That there should he another bond Between us two ! V'ou do not need this thing to make Your life more full of hope and i-est, And yet sometimes you well mij;ht take More interest! And there is nothing better serves For weary hearts and hands to droop on. And stimulate exhausted nerves Than a good coupon. Dr. Raymond suffered a great sorrow in the loss of the son of whom he was so justly proud, a loss that he bore with a man's fortitude, and in which he was upheld by the faith and hope that his life so strikingly exemplified. That he should have been first taken, leaving here the wife to whom he devoted so many years of loving care, is a part of that great mystery into which we cannot look, hut she at loai^t ha.s the comfort of the memory of her knight as one "without fear and without reproach" —a iJayard among warriors — a Sir Percival among knights. Dr. Raymond belonged to many societ'»8 and his abilities received MRMORIAL HKRVICE due rpcnRnition in many honornry tit low from w)iii>lieH, univerHities, and collegen. AmniiK thoin it was the ploasurp and honor of Lehigh Univer- sity to confer on Dr. Raymond in June, 19(Mi, the firnt Doetorate of Law« ever gninted by the inHtitution. When, in 1905, I wan asked by my fellow alumni of Ix-high to lay aside my professional work and take on the responsibility of the presidency of Lehigh University, it was to Dr. Raymond I went for advice on my course. He urged me to take it up and during the years smce then I have reason to be grateful' fo'r his steady counsel and support, and his vLsits to speak to our student body have ever been welcome and uplifting. He, and our honored Dr. Drown, and I had a close and common bond in the association we all three had with Lehigh, and I know of no words more fittingly applicable to Dr. Raymond than those he spoke of Dr. Drown at the time we laid the foimdation of Drown Memorial Hall on our Lehigh campus. Dr. Raymond said: "How well I remember that sunny afternoon at Philadelphia, when, in the sacred stillness of 'God's Acre', ringed with the noisy life of the metropolis, we buried in flowers and evergreens the body of our beloved friend, while overhead, branches, like these, waved their solemn murmurous benediction, and all around us white fingers pointed upward, mutely saying, 'He is not here; he is risen!' — and in our ears sounded that deep, dear message of the Spirit, chanting how the blessed dead rest from their labors, while their works do follow them ! "Methinks we do not always perceive the full meaning of that mes- sage. Too often we interpret it as saying, 'They depart; they cease from their labors; and the work they have done takes their place, as their only representation on earth, as all that is now left of their fruitful power'. Surely, this is not all. To rest is not to cease; to follow is not to remain behir d forever separated from the leader, but rather to abide with the leader, though he be on ihe march. "Our human experience is not without interpreting analogies. We know what it is to rest from our labors for a few happy summer weeks, laying upon other shoulders the daily burden and upon other hearts the daily anxiety, yet still in forest solitudes or up shining summits or by the boundless sea, carrying with us in a higher mood our work — weighing it more accurately, because we are not too tired; seeing it more clearly, because weare out of the dust of it; realizing its proportions and purpose, because distance gives us a perspective view; tasting its full sweetness, because its bitter cloudy precipitate has had time to settle; and renewing our high ambitions for it as we renew our strength for it. We rest from our labors, but our work goes with us, inseparably — only now we bear it, not as weight, but as wings. "So, it seems to me, we are to think of our absent dead; they rest, but do not cease; they go on, and their work goes on with them. Indeed, MEMORIAl. HGRVICB 7 the interpretation is yet deeper. To my ears, the Spirit says 'Blessed are they who have labored so earnestly ' to deserve the rest of a higher sphere of labor, and who have left behind them works which deserve to follow them, and to receive, even in that higher sphere, their continued remembrance and interest'. " How more fittingly can I close this tribute to the memory of our beloved friend than by these his own words, spoken of a friend dear to him, and honored by us all — words that today we may cite as a requiem and fitting thought of Rossiter W. Raymond himself, loved by us, whose name will go down in the annals of our Institute as that of a super-man of many parts to whom we owe much. Address of T. A. Rickard "Brethren" — it was thus that he addressed us on an occasion that many of you will remember: in 1893, at Chicago, at the closing session of the International Engineering Congress. Otner men, representing other nations, had spoken — some of them in poor English — before he was called upon to reply for the arts of mining and metallurgy in America. When he said " Brethren", the audience was startled into lively attention, which was maintained throughout his speech; for then, as always, he knew how to reach the minds of men, and their hearts too. I remember his saying that those present had taken part in numerous scientific discussions; that they had evolved new ideas and had discovered new principles, but that they had done something much better: they had " discov^ercd one another". So saying he put his finger on the distinctive feature of all such conventions. His mode of salutation also reminded those of us who were his personal friends that he was an evangelist as well as an engineer, and that he could instruct a bible- class in Job or St. Paul with the same power of exposition as he could deliver a lay sermon on mining or metallurgy. Indeed Rossiter Raymo id was a deeply religious man, and no sympathetic understanding of his oxtraordinarily versatile character is possible without appreciating this fact. He was not only a prominent member of Plymouth Church, Brooklyn ; he was superinten- dent of the Sunday-s?hool for 25 years, he led in prayer-meeting and in bible-class, he interpreted the Old Testament during the period when the so-called higher criticism was undermining the faith of the churches, and he aided Henry Ward Beecher in steering his congregation through the storm of biblical exegesis that crossed the Atlantic forty years ago. The eminence that he attained as a religious teacher is measurable by the fact that when Beecher died the trustees asked him " to give up his work as editor, lavyer, and mining engineer, and take the pastorate of Plymouth Church", as recorded by the Rev. Dr. Dwight Hillis. He declined the honoi-, thinking it better "to give his Hfe and strength to the vocation of an interpreter, chronicler» guide, and assistant to engineers, rather than 8 MEMORIAL HERVtCK to that of a creative an«l conHtructivt' leador". I quote the wordH he hiiii8elf used on the oi-cnsion of the dinner (•clehratinK hi.s 7()th liirthday. Not many in the mining profesHion knew this phiiMe of iiis ehnnieter, althnuKh liuri'nK his journeys through the West he would occasionally take the pulpit in some MiiiiiuK coniinunity anii surprise a coiiKreKation that knew him only as the most distinguished of the experts engaKcd during the previous week in an imoortant ap<>x litigation. I have spoken of the part he played in the history of Plymouth Church, but his deeply religious nature was never so brought home to nu* as when his son Alfred died in 1901. He was a son of whom any father might feel proud; gifted anfl amiable, and on the threshold of a brilliant career. When he died Dr. Kaymond proved, if it were nece8.sary, the sincerity of his religious convictions, for his glad way of spiniking of his departed son showed his confitlence in a future ■■ union. I never saw a more (onvincing expres- sion of the Mief in immortality than in the attitude of Alfred Ray?nond's father and mother. It were improp<'r for me, therefore, on this occasion to speak of the passing of our honored frierd in a lugut)rious strain. I shall speak of his life and career as an inspiring memory to be treasured as a heritage of our profession; and in doing so, I shall abstain from flattery. To extol the honored dead with honeyed words is an imperti- nence, llossiter Kaymond's career was so rich in performance as to require none of the insincerities of conventional biography. To the profession, Dr. Raymond's work as secretary of the American Institute of Mining Engineers was the outstanding feature of his su- l)remely u.seful life. When the Institute was Tounded, in 1871, he was elected vice-president, with the understanding that he would perform the duties of president, which David Thomas, by reason of his age, could not discharge. Thus from the beginning Raymond was the real president, and, on the resignation of Mr. Thomas, r w months later, he became president in name as well as in feet, thereafter to be elected again and again, until an amendment to the rules, proposed by himself, provided that no president cjuld serve more than two years. Soon afterward, in 1884, he became secretary, a post that he held for 27 years — until his retirement from active service in 1911. He was secretary emeritus until the end. The duties of the .secretary included the editing of the Transactions. For this he was well prepared. He had been the writer of successive volumes of the 'Mining Statistics West of the Rocky Mountains'; 1 ^ had been editor of the 'American Journal of Mining' for one year, in 1867, and for the seven following years the editor of its successor, the 'Engineering and Mining Journal', of which he continued to be a.s.sociate editor with Richard P. Rothwell until they had a friendly disagreement over the 'silver question' in 189.3, after which he withdrew from editorial responsibility, becoming a 'special contributor', in which capacity he MEMORIAL HKRVK'R aHMJHted th«' t'ditora that Hiiccccdcd Rothwell. Thiw he t(M)k u notable part in the (IpvolopuH'nt of technical journalism in this country; but I n-Kanl his share in the early editing of the 'Journal ' as important chiefly iM'cauae it was a training for his life-work, that of wcretary of the In- stitute. It is noteworthy that as the owner of the' Journal' in its early (lays he found the work of writing and editing far more to his taste than the management, for in financial affairs he was t(K) kindly to Ik* a shrev business-man. As .secretary of the Institute he pi-rforuied divers duties; he invited written contributions and revi.s«'d tluin Iwfore publication; he organized the meetings; he was the administrator* In course of time his ebullient personality so dominated the Institute that he was allowed a free hand to do as he thought fit. Presidents came and went; although nominally secretary, he exer, ised complete control. The personnel of the iward of nuinagement, or 'council', of the Institute changed from year to year, but Dr. Raymond managed its affairs, practically without let or hindrance. The Institute became identified with him. For a period longer than a generation he was the mainspring of the activities of the Institute, its presiding genius, its chief spokesman. Those who participated in the meetings of ten or twenty years ago will retain a vivid impression of the way in which Dr. Raymond stamijed his individuality on the organization. C'ourteous and friendly to all, resourceful and tactful in steering the discussions, witty and eloquent whenever he rose to hi .eet, he was the managing director of the proceedings; he gave point and distinction to them; he infused them with his keen enthusiasm; he lighted them with the brilliance of his mind. His versatility was unlimited. All knowledge was his patrimony and nothing human was alien to his understanding. Whatever the subject of a paper, he could add something to it; nay more, on many occasions when some new phase of geology or engineering was presented for disrussion, he would rise to supplement the «;peaker's remarks and show himself so well informed on the subject as to eclipse the specialist. Ho did this not unkindly, but nut of super-t bundance of knowledge and siieer exuberance of spirit. On the other hand, no member engaged in preparing a paper for the Transactions failed to obtain his whole-hearted assistance in collecting the necessary data or in hunting for the needed references. When the meml)er's manuscript arrived, the Doctor went through it with painstaking care. Before the use of the typewriting machine came into vogue, and even after, he would send letters in long-hand of as much as ten pages, explaining or suggesting improvements in the text. As a beneficiary of his conscientious industry, I can testify to the instruction in the art of writing that he gave to those who contributetl to the Transactions. He was a delightful helper and a stimulating teacher. If jiny criticism is to be made, I venture to suggest that he over-edited; that is to say, the writings of the inexperienced 10 MKMliHIAL HKKVU'IS wvrv m much roviwd nn to Iw pracli«ttlly re-writti-n l)y tiiiii. He would tuko the halM)ttko(l priMluction of a wini-Iitorate enninetT ami Bubjort il to the warmth of hin intellectual conibuHtion until it emerged a whole- some biscuit. I recall a valuable metallurgical |>a|M'r, written by a professor now recogniwd as an authority, that was so full of Ciennan itlioniH that Dr. Raymond had to r»'-write it. Shortly liefore the Colo- riido m(>eting of 1890 I persuaded a Cornish mining engineer to contribute u paper on the lode-structure of Cripple Creek. He was a keen observer, but a poor writer; when the pa|)er arrived it was quite unsuitable for publication. Dr. Raymond showed it to me and said, "What am I to do with this?" I replied, "Don't accept it". "No", said he, "that would not Ih- fair; we asked him to write it". " Yes". I said, "but I am responsible for asking him ; let me lick it into shape." " No", he insisted, "that is njy job, I'll see what I can do with it." He did, and he did it >»} thoroughly that my Cousin Jack friend obtained credit for an informing and well-written contribution to the Transactions. The result of such revision was to lessen the value of the paper as scientific evidence. The authenticity of the testimony, it seems to me, suffered by Ixiing given through the mouth of a skilled advocate. On the other hand, this over- plus of editorial labor gave the Transactions a level of style that no other technical society could claun either then or since. All technical writing in the English language has felt, and long will continue to feel, the inspira- tion to excellence that he gave while editor of the reference library that we call the Transactions of the American Institute of Mining Engineers. He left iin enduring mark on the jurisprudence of mining. A keen observer and ii clear expositor, he achieved distinction as an expert witness in the litigation arising from attempts to apply the law of the apex, a 8ubj«'nrral. H' wa« quick to r«TOKnu(> the important featureH of a case an«i nkilful in iianthallinK hiH forces to the diHconifiUire of the enemy. In forcnnic duek he dit.ilayed characteriHtic wit and vernatihty. TWh legal practice wan a Houroc of honor and profit to him, hut I venture to Hay that he helped geology more in other ways. In 1868, when only 28 yearw of age, he was appointed U. 8. Conimis- tuoner of Mining Statistics, and in that capacity he visited the mining districts of the West, which was then at the beginning of an era of wide- spread exploration. He was quick to appreciate the economic value of geology and to utilize the opportunities for study afforded by his official travels. In 1870, he was appointed lecturer on economic geology at Lafayette College, which appointment he held for twelve years. When he Iwcame secretary of the Institute he transferred his keen interest in economic geology to the Transactions. As secretary, he p<'rHuad as little at a loss for ideas as for words; his enunciation was clear, he had a resonant voice, and his gestures were natural. Owing to his retentive memory and easy delivery, it was difficult to distinguish a .speech that he had written from one that was exlem|)ore. At any gatlnTing he w.-is in(livis in trees, l)ooks in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything." Rossiter Raymond exercised an immense influence* in his day and generation — nay more, two generations felt the force of his personality. How he stimulated his religious co-workers has been recorded by the succes.sors of Henry Ward Beecher. Both Lyman Abbott and Dwight Hillis have testified to the courage that he imparted to them during the troublous times of Plymouth (,'hurch. To the geologists who broke the trail for the scientific investigations of a later day he was a guide, philoso- pher, and friend. Such men as Clarence King, James D. Hague, and S. F. Emmons have recorded their gratitude for his support and advice. Among his engineering contemporaries were scores to whom he was an ever-ready source of information, a wise counselor, a cheery friend — for them he did many unselfish and kindly things. To those of us who were young when he was at his prime he was the very embodiment of scientific attainments. We looked up to him as the exemplar of effec- tive writing and polished speaking, the pattern of engineering culture, the leader in everything that concerned the welfare of our profession. As secretary of the Institute we found him a lovable man, full of natural kindness and that h"lpfulness, without condenscension, which the young appreciate so keenly when shown by a senior whom they admire. We — for I was one of them — found him an inspiring leader and a loyal friend. Loyalty — yes, that was one of his qualities. It got him into trouble more than once, for in friendship, as in apex litigation, he was unmistak- ably partisan. He stuck to his friends through thick and thin; he gave them the benefit of the doubt if they did wrong; he championed them when they were set upon. Lucky was the man on whose side he fought. He was pre-eminently a publicist and an educator; he dechned the pastorate of Plymouth Church to become the pastor of a bigger congre- gation; he resigned his professorship at Lafayette to be a teacher in a bigger school; he was the dean of the mining profession in the United States. For fifty years the force of his personality was felt among the men that were organizing and directing the mining industry of a conti- nent; for fifty years he did not fail to write a (Christmas story for the children of his Sunday-school; he was a friend to the old and to the younj?. Age could not witiier him nor custom stale his infinite variety. He influenced those that today are influencing others; his spirit still moves among men. Blessed be his memory. E3S^ Brief Biography of Dr. Raymond Ro8.nter Worthington Raymond, Ph.D., LL.D., mining: engineer, metallurgist, lawyer, and author, was horn in Cincinnati, Ohio, April 27, 1840, the son of Roliert Raikes and Mary Anna (Pratt) Raymond; granilson of Eliakim and Mary (Carrington) Raymond, of New York City, and of Caleb and Sally (Walker) Pratt, of Providence, Rhode Island. He was of English descent, his earliest American ancestor on the paternal side, Richard Raymond, having emigrated from F^ngland to this country and settled at Salem, Ma.ssachusettp. in 1632; while on his moth- er's side he was descended from well-known New England families. His great-grandfather, Nathaniel Raymond, was an officer in the Revolution- ary army; and his grandfather, Caleb Prj,n, served in the war of 1812. His father (born 1817, died 1888), a native of New York City, was a graduate of Union College in 1837, editor of the Syracuse 'Free Democrat' in 1852, and the 'Evening Chronicle* in 1853-4, and afterward profes- sor of English in the Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute and principal of the Boston School of Oratory. His mother (born 1818, died 1891) was a native of Providence, Rhode Island. They were married at Columbus, Ohio, in 1839, and Rossiter was the eldest of a family of seven children, of whom four were sons. He received his early education in the common schools of Syractise, New York, and in 1857 entered the Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute, of which his uncle, John H. Raymond (afterward president of Vassar College), was then president, graduating from that institution, at the head of his class, in 1858. He spen* .he ensuing three years in professional study at the Royal Mining Acauemy, Freilierg, Saxony, and at the Heidelberg and ^^unich universities. Returning to the United States in August 1861, he entered the Fed- eral army and served as aide-de-camp, with the rank of captain, on the staff of Major-General J. C Fremont, by whom, during his campaign in the Valley of Virginia, he was officially conmiended for gallant and meritorious conduct. From 1864 to 1868, he engaged in practice as a consulting mining engineer and metallurgist in New York City; and in the latter year was appointed U. S. Commissioner of Mining Statistics, which posi- tion he held until 1876, is.suing each year 'Reports on the Mineral Re- sources of the United States West of the Rocky Mountains' (8 vol., Washington, 1869-76), several of which were re-published in New York, with the titles of 'American Mines and Mining', 'The United States Mining Industry', 'Mines, Mills and Furnaces', and 'Silver and Gold' BTOGRAPHV 16 These reports contained deseriptions of the geoioRy, ore deposits, and min- ing enterprises of the United States public domain, discussions of metal- lurgical processes adapted to American conditions, and observations and criticisms concerning the practical operation of the Federal mineral- land laws of 1866 and subsequent years. In 1870, he was appointed lec- turer on economic geology at Lafayette College, which chair he occupied until 1882, and for one year during that period gave the entire course on mining engineering. In 1873, Dr. Raymond was appointed United States Commissioner to the Vienna International Exposition, and as such delivered in Vienna addresses in the German language at the International Convention on Patent Law and the International Meeting of Geologists; and an address in English at the meeting of the Iron and Steel Institute in Liige, Belgium. From 1875 to 1895, he was associated as consulting engineer with the firm of Cooper, Hewitt & Co., owners cf the New Jersey Steel & Iron Co., the Trenton Iron Co., the Durham and the Ringwood iron works, as ell as numerous mines of iron ore and coal. As president of the Alliance Coal Co., and director of the Lehigh & Wilkes-Barre Coal Co., as well as a personal friend of Franklin B. Gowen, he became acquainted with the inner history of the memorable campaign against the ' Molly Maguires', and has since been known aa a fearless opponent of all tyranny practised in the name of labor. His articles on 'Lal)or and Law', 'Labor and Liberty', etc., published in the 'Engineering and Mining Journal' at the time of the Homestead riots, attracted wide attention and for these, as well as similarly frank discussions of the opera- tions of the Western Federation of Miners in Montana, Idaho, and Colo- rado, he received special denunciations and threats from the labor-unions thus criticised. While connected with Cooper, Hewitt & Co., he also assisted Abram S. Hewitt in the management of C •'^'.er Union and for many years directed the Saturday Evening Free i'opular Lectures on science, etc., which constituted the beginning of what has since become a vast lecture system in the city of New York. From 1885 to 1889, he was one of the three New York State Com- missioners of Electric Subways for the city of Brooklyn, and served as member and secretary of the board, preparing its final report, which was generally regarded as the best statement of the problem of municipal engineering and policy involved in the distribution of electric conductors. At the close of his official term as Commissioner, he became consulting engineer to the New York & New Jersey Telephone Co., which position he retained for many years. In 1898, Dr. Raymond was admitted to the bar of the Supreme Court of New York Stale and of the Federal District and Circuit Courts, his practice being confined to cases involving either mining or patent law, in the former of which he was a leading authority. In 1903 he was "^"fasrwi-wev-Tr lse- quently translated into (lerman and published in full Ly the 'Journal des Bergrechts', the only periodical in the world devoted exclusively to the subject of mining jurisprudence, and for whi; h he received high praise. In addition to the official works previously mentioned he was the author of 'Die Leibgarde' (1863), a German translation of 'The Story of the Guard' by Mrs. Jessie Benlon Fremont (1863); 'The Children's Week' (1871); 'Brave Hearts' (1873); 'The Man in the Moon and Other People' (1874); 'The Book of Job' (1878); 'The Merry-go- Round' (1880); 'Camp and Cabin' (1880); 'A Glossary of Mining and Metallurgical Terms' (1881); 'Memorial of Alexander Mining Law' (1883-95); 'Two Ghosts and Other Christmas Stories' (1887); 'The Life of Peter Cooper' (1897); various technical works and papers on mining law, as well as numerous addresses and magazine articles, and contributions to several American dictionaries and encyclopedias. In 1909, in collaboration with W. R. Ingalls, he contributed to the first Pan-American Scientific Congress, held at Santiago, Chile, a paper on 'The Mineral Wealth of America', and at the second congress, which assembled at Washington, D. C, in 1915, he was represented by a paper entitled 'The Value of Technical Societies to Mining Engitieers'. 'The Conservation of Natural Resources by Legislation' was delivered in 1909 before a joint meeting of the four national engineering so. ieties. In 1916, Dr. Raymond published a volume of poems, entitled 'Chris- tus Con.soiator atul Other Poems'. At the time of his death he was at work upon a history of the American Institute of Mining Engineers, which he hoped to finish this year. mtan BIOGRAPHY 17 la 1910 th(^ 7()th birthday of Dr. Raymond was celehrarfd hy a (li»n«>r at which all hranchos of the cnginoeriiiK F""«>'"<'««i<">. *h«' scientific and learned societies, and the prominent institutions of learning; were represented. On this ofcasion the gold medal of the Institution of Mining and Metallurgy was awarded to Dr. Raymond "in re(OKnition of (icfu\ throughout his Hfo. Sf)on after Ilossiter's birth in 1840 the family moved from Cincinnati to Hamilton, New York, where his father tooic a two years' course in theology at the Madison University. Just one item concerning the babyhood of the little son came to light in a passage of a letter written at that time by his young mother to a school friend of hers. But the item, though small, is significant. She wrote: "Rossy is a plain child, but he is very wi.'M'". The years from 1842 to 1847 were spent at Hartford, Connecticut, and during this time the little boy was unfolding with unusual speed. His grandmother Pratt was wont to gaze gravely at him, as he sat ab- sorbed in some child's mystei/, and say: "You'll never rear that child". This mournful prophecy is scarcely to be wondered at when one confronts the dreadful fact that he had mastered the Greek alphabet and finished the first Greek primer by the time he was six years old. Bui in after years, he himself used hotly to deny that this was preco- cious, arguing that "Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta" was just as easy as " Ena, Mena, Mona, Mi" for an interested baby with a parrot's m >ry. He applied that theory long afterward upon his own grandson, who electrified the neighbors, at the ripe age of four, by talking of quartz and uornblende in the dusty country-road, and exclaiming over the "mica in the river" when it sparkled in the sun. If Hartford might be called the cradle of little Rossiter's scholar- ship, surely Syracuse saw the beginning of his human enthusiasms, the budding of that trait of ardent, headlong, uncalculating partisanship of his fellow-man — especially his fellow-man in trouble — which en- livened and colored his whole life. For it was at Syracuse, between his seventh and his sixteenth year, that he grew into the knowledge of the slavery conditions which induced so many good citizens, foremost among them his own father, to defy the fugitive-slave law and operate — with much skill and secrecy, but the clearest of consciences — the 'Underground! Railway' that led from bondage to freedom over the Canadian border. One occasion he often recounted; it happened probably when he was eleven or twelve and his brother Charles two years younger. A fugitive slave was in hiding in the Raymonds' house, and the two boys were allowed to go into the kitchen with their father when he went to interview the poor fellow. For the benefit of the curious and not too sympathetic children, he drew the man on to tell of his separation from his wife, and from child after child in succession, and at last said- "But, of course, it isn't as if you were white. Surely you negroes do not feel about your children as we do about ours". The humble rejoinder. "Oh, Massa, we does love 'em !" brought forth a burst of hearty weeping from the 20 IIKXiHAPirK Al. SKKTCII b«iys, atid it is safe to my that that path of u-ichs to thi'ir h«'artH wa« ii«'V»'r cloHod aKuiii. Syracuse also was lh«' .sc»'rH» of imich boyish dcvclopiiKwit of act-oin- plishmonts. CampinR and tramping and playing Indians (their boat was named 'Ayacanora' for the lM«aiitifid savage in 'Westward Ho!'), private theatricals in the barn, and story-t«'lling and guessing games in the evenings, to say nothing of impromptu charades in which the elders of the family were stars— these were excellent ways to sharpen youthful wits, as well as to build happy memories for aft.r-lifp. An apprecia- tive nature such as Rossiter's could not fail to profit enormously by such well-springs for his mental and spiritual thirst; his young soul blossomed abundantly. When the family went to Brooklyn in I856, it was in truth a home going, for Robert Raymond had been born there, and his eldest sister, Mrs. John Tasker Howard, with her husband and children still lived there. She faithfully maintained her father's lifelong habit of holding prayers on Sunday afternoons, and to her house, accordingly, all the memlH'rs of the big and increasing circle were wont to repair at 5 o'clock every Sunday. Into this big gathering, also, came Henry Ward Beecher, often, as a welcome member, and the atmosphere he brought with him gave the simple household service something of the spirit of Bethany. To all the children and young folks of that fortunate family, and to Ros.siter not least, the affairs of the Kingdom of Heaven were as vital and interesting as their school doings or their plans for the vacation. He had now become a student at the Brooklyn Polytechnic, where his father was professor of English literaturv .nd rhetoric, and his uncle. Dr. John Howard Raymontl, the first president. In May 1857, he joined the nienjl>ership of Plymouth Church, when its own great life was of but ten years' standing. Another interest was beginning for Ro.'ssiter — or 'Ros", as he was in- variably called— in his friendship with the Dwight family. There were several young people in the household, but the youngest, Sarah Mellen, was nearest his own age. She was an animated enthusiastic s hoolgirl at the Packer Institute, and her family circle, like his, was wont to have its good times all together, regardless of age. Ros, at this period, must have been particularly charming, with dark curly hair, keen and merry eyes, and a deep dimple in his chin. He escorted Miss Sally to many a meeting of the Zetalethean Society at the Polytechnic, where he exer ised his youthful eloquence in debate, or his learning in the reading of literary papers. The romance was begun, even though undeclared and perhaps unrecognized, before he was graduated, at the head of his cla.ss, in 1858, ami .set .sail for Europe on that famous clipper ship, the 'dreat Western' of the Black Ball Line. He used to enjoy telling the story of the series of disasters that the good ship encountered, and how at last "with half a t:U/.AHKTii l>. H. KKLUN(iKK 21 rift, und hulf a crew, ane, an evening of ki"!! ral contributions was proposed; one of these was a [MX'ni by Hossitcr on the Bay of Naples; another was a story by Mrs. Stowe, which she afterward develo|HHl into the exquisite medieval romance, 'Awnes of Sorrento'. After their return to Florence, our young student's holiday was over and he went back to Germany; the Stowes departed to Paris, and the How- ards visited V<'ni. K. UKLMNUKIt 23 toiupUMl to wonder how hiw son found opportunity to develop bin own |M()|)l<> hv nii't, rhyim-H, jok(>«, uiid iil- wavH KH-af cntfuwiaMn for hJH work. HIm iijoinorii'H of thow (la>M. which inuMt hiivc Ihi'ii ho full of har(l«hip.s and fatiRUCH ami tlifficiiltics, s«'«>m lo have retained for him the keenest ze«t all throuRh hiH life. He talked of fheni as a young man taikn of his prankn at colleKe, and, indeed, iill hiH enjoymentH wen- like a Imiv'h in their »impli(ity. In 1873 he wan appointed Unite*! Stat<»H Commifwioner to the Vienna Intertmti(mal pAposition. In the eourne of hin viHit he delivered ad- drewten in (lerman at the International Convention on Patent Law, and at the International Meeliim of (leologiBts, and one in Knglish at the meeting of the Iron anven in his sununer vacations he was constantly planning what subject he would take up next with the class, or what he would recommend to the class for home reading. He understood truly how to espouse a cause — to love and cherish it, and to keep house with it. In 1H98 he was admitted to the bar of the New York State Supreme Court and of the Federal District and Circuit Courts, confining his ca.ses to those concerning mining law, on which he had Ix'come an authority, and patent law. In 1903 he was lecturer on mining law in Columbia University. He also delivered many addresses at other colleges and uni- versities — Yalo, Cornell, Pittsburgh, Lehigh, Lafayette, Union, California, the Worcester Polytechnic, and the New York College of Physicians and Surgeons. He was, of course, deeply concerned from the first in the growth of the American Institute of Mining Engineers. In 1871, 1876, and 1877 he served as vice-president, and as president from 1872 to 1875. In 1884 he becan>e secretary and so continued until 1911, after which he was see retary emeritus until he died. Forty of the volumes of the Trans- actions represent his editorial work, and they contain also many special articles contributed by him. In the summer of 1899, in connection with a (^olorado meeting of the Institute. Dr. Raymond, with a party of some twenty friends and guests, made an extended trip through the West in a private car. It was on that triptiiat he had his firstglimpseof the Grand (^anyon of the Colorado; it was to him an overwhelming spiritual experience. He had seen many splendors in both old countries and new, but I think none enriched his treasury as did this unearthly vision; and that is why I cannot pass it by, even in this slender narrative. It was his chief characteristic, perhaps, that all his emotions, grave or gay, were .so spontaneous that he never felt any incongruity in going swiftly from one to another. Tears and laughter alike were frankly unconcealed, and yet I think these transi- tions did not impair his dignity. Whatever mood was uppermost was so genuine that it could not seem ill-timed. In 1909, in collaboration with W. II. Ingalls, he contributed to the first Pan-American Scientific Congress, held at Santiago, Chile, a paper on 'The Mineral Wealth of America', and at the second congress, as.sem- bled at Washington, in 1915, he was represented by a paper entitled 'The Value of Technical Societies to Mining Engineers'. 'The (Conserva- tion of Natural Uesouries by Legislation' was delivered iH'fore a joint meeting of the four national engineering societies. fmm KLIZABETH D. R. BELLINGFR 27 In 1910 then' was a (linncr at the Plaza hotel, New York, in honor of Dr. llayniond's 70th birthday, at which .ere gathered representatives of all brunches of onjjineering, members of many scientific societies, and shin- ing lights from various departments of life, and, what was most notable, all attending from motives of personal friendship. He was awarded on this occasion the gold nedal of the British Institution of Mining and Metallurgy "in recogf..;^'. nt i„^.inent services and lifelong devotion to the science and pract? ( of miniiiK iu-t metallurgy, and of his numerous and valuable contrib'.'iu'ix to te1"), Dr. Uayiiioiul delivered the coniineinorative address on the loOth anniversary of the foundins of the Universitj' of Pittsburgh, and received from that institution the honorary degree of LL.D. He had previously received the same distinttion from Lehigh University in HK)() — the first honorary degree ever conferred ))y Lehigh — and many years l)efore, in 18<>8, he had received the Ph.D. from Lafayette ( 'ollege. This is, perhaps, the point at which to record the Hst of his member- ships. He was an honorary member of the Society of (^ivil Engineers of France, the Iron and Ste«'l Institute and the Institution of Mining and Metallurgy of Great Britain, the Canadian Mining Institute, the Mining Society of Nova Scotia, and the Australasian Institute of Mining Engi- neers. He was a fellow of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, and of the American (leographical Society, a member of the American Philosophical Society, the Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences, the American Forestry As.sociation, and various other tech- nical and scientific organizations both at home and abroad. All the phases of the War, and especially after the United States had at last joined in the cau.se, were followed by him with intensest interest. There was many a spirited meeting of the Neighborhood (.'lub in the little C'onnecticut village where he spent his summers, when he contributed extracts from his overseas mail or glowed with excitement over the stir- ring readings of others. Whether he listened or spoke, he always infused a thrill into any assemblage to which he came and in which he took part, by the animation of his mere prest "le. His country pastor said of him, in his addre.ss in Plymouth lecture-room at the funeral services: "No minister had a better listener than we ministers had in Dr. Raymond. He was a genius at listening; it almost seemed to me, in our little church, I hat he listened out loud, v e were so crtmpletely conscious of the intensity of his following our thought, or going ahead of it". His neighborly relationships in this little New Tngland village were many and varied. Political discussions with anyone who would pick up his gauntlet, chess KMZABKTll I). K. BBLIilNCiKK 29 with the ininisUT, Sunday afternoon talks in the Congregational chureh on the (Jreen, and tireless reading aloud from novels, newspapers, and magazines, any day and all day, just as long as there were listeners— these give but u dry account of the spirit and vitality that bubbled like a perpetual spring through all his days. Even at the dinner-table, at the mention of any moot point, he would jump up and charge upon the bookcase, bringing back a dictionary or a volume of the encyclopedia and making room for Reside his plate as though there were not a nurnent to spare. It was nearly C^hristmas when he and his wife and sister returned to their city house in the fall of 1918. His annual Christmas story had yet to be written, but the fact that it was to be the fiftieth acted as an irresistible spur upon his energies, and he achieved it just before the arrival of the two or three remaining members of the family not in France. He welcomed them heartily and confided at once to one of them that he had written not only the usual Christmas story but several rhymes for Christmas (tomorrow), he even read some, in confidence, because it seemed such a pity to wait a whole day! His Christmas Day was filled with tranquil satisfactions; two or three overst>as letters of recent arrival to lie re-enjoyed with the newcomers; some accept able gifts and books; the rhjmes aforesaid ; about at cribbage; and a few friends dropping in at odd times during the day. The next day was very like if. On the evening of Friday, the 27th, he delivered an address on the spiritual influences of the war at the Plymouth prayer- meeting, which was a-counted one of his best and most ringing speeches by the friends wl.o heard it. He had confessed that day to Hn'ling not quite well, and when, upon starting off to Plymouth Church, someone commiserated him fr)r having such a task before him. he made the re- joinder he was so fond of making: " If Fm to go down to the church and do the Lord's l)usiness, He will have to take care of my ailments, for I really can't attend to both". In the same spirit he was equal and more Ihan equal to his happy mission on Sunday morning, and went off to Sunday-school to read his fiftieth story and preside over his bibie-.-lass, returning all in a glow of pleasure later with an enormous sheaf of ,50 red ro.ses presented to him from the children. All that day was a day of joy to him, lit with the satisfaction of these two recent tasks well accomplished and the pleasure in other people's plea.sur(>. It was not unlike many and many other Sundays in his life — indeed it was a striking type of his particular style of Sunday, for upon analysis it would have shown dearly enough that the source of his delight was in the depths of his own nature and in the lavish outpouring of his own energy. Is not this a foretaste of "having life more abundantly "? On Monday he rested as the doctor bade him «lo, and that day and the next were the only instances of his even seeming less well than usual. The end came swiftly and most 30 •qOGHAPHlCXL SKKTCH iM'iUilifiilly. Ho .'ia length on the stibject of Gounod's niusie with one of the family who was going to the opera, when a sudden accession of pain interrupted him— and he was gone. All his departures through life were like that; eager conversation to the last minute, then a " Well— I must l>e off"— and if one reached the window soon enough, one might perceive him swinging down the street, his characteristic hands in a ready-to-use attitude just showing from under the cape of his overcoat. It is impo.ssible to resist the feeling that this last departure, like the others, was in eager quest of fresh and inspiring work elsewhere. Reiuiiiisceuces Uy Lyman Abbott Kossiter W. Raymond was born in 1840, studied abroad at Heidel- berg, Munith, and the Frcilxjrg Mining Academy; served as lieutenant and captain on staff duty during the Civil War; became an editor and special contributor of the 'Engineering and Mining Journal'; for three years was the president of the Anierican Institute of Mining Engineers, and for 27 years its secretary; held degrees from Lafayette (.'ollege and Lehigh and Pittsburgh Universities; was honored by election to scientific societies in France and Japan; attained such emincnc^e in his chosen pro- fession that he was admitted to the Bar as an attorney and counselor that he might argue a mining case before the Supreme Court; was a public speaker of both charm and power; wrote some ent^'rtaining short stories and some verse which has much charm both in its musical phras- ing and in the strength and tenderness of its message. For over sixty years he was a meml)er of Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, and dedicated his varied abilities from the very first to its service. During my pastorate we worked together in intimate personal relations and in this paper I confine myself exclusively to what I know of him as a Christian and a church worker. My personal friendship antedates 1887 and con- tinued to the day of his death, but others K'tter qualified than I will speak of his abilities and servic es in other relations, as engineer, orator, scientist, and author. Henry Ward Beecher died in March 1887. In the fall of that year I was invited to take pastoral charge of the church as 'stated supply' while the church was looking for a permanent pastor. This invitation came to me in the first instance, if I retolle.t aright, verbally through Dr. Raymond. On my intimation that I would undertake the service reciuested of me if the desire of the committee from whom it came was confirmed by the church, the matter was put b-fore the church officers and as a result I received from Dr. Raymond the letter given lielow. Mr. Halliday, mentioned in that letter, had been for some years Mr. Beecher's assistant and on him had devolved much, perhaps I should say most, of the pastoral work. Mr. Townsend was a brilliant preacher in the Metho- dist church, holding conservative views on all biblical and theological questions; after Mr. Beecher's de;ith he h.vl preached a sermon in Ply- mouth Church on the Jonah story, emphaaizir >>e im portance of accepting its literal interpretation and unquestionable accuracy a.s history. Ply- mouth Church, though radically congregational in its government, was 31 • lane*'. »2 KIlKiUAI'IIICAL HKKT«'IIKS (•sst-ntiiilly ii union church in its theology iinil its si)iritual iifo. It hud in its origin ii(lo|)t(Hi a creed, hut the acceptance of this creed was not re- quired as a condition of membership. The only condition was a sitnple covenant of loyalty to Christ and the acceptance of the Bible as a guide in the (christian life. It contained memlxrs of every type of theological I )elief from Unit arianism to high ( 'alvinism, and from Quakerism to Episco- pacy. The conservative memlM'rs of the church were delighted with Dr. Townsend's sermon and wished to hear him again. The knowledge of these facts is necessary to the understanding of Dr. Kaymond's letter, which follows: Oct. 14, 1887 My dear .Mr. ,\M)<)lt: Thf Boiird of Deacons la«l ninht adopted by a vote of .iiibHtantial unanimity (one negative vote from a good brother whose function is always to vote '\o' on every- thin|{) and without a word from any quarter not tlioro\iKhly cordial to you pe.-sonally — tlie advice of tlie .\dvi.sory Committee, as contained in the document I (javc you (in which, however, after consultaticm, I erase or that man whom they wantiHl to hear, and particularly Townscnd, the hero of the Jonah sermon. So I explained elaborately beforehanil that this arrangement was incended to facilitate the hearing of other ministers without embarra-ssing suspicion of candidacy — and then 1 "threw a tub to the whale" by proposing that Town.send shoidd be sent for, and saying I woulrl like to hear him t(M», although I would frankly confess that if that one sermon represented fairly his views of Scripture, he couldn't be my pastor. This brought out good-natured protests t.iat they didn't necessarily want him for pastor but only desired to hear him again. So it was settled : 1. That you should be a:iked to begin the first Simday in November ((communion service in the morning); that Townsend should be invited for the second Sunday, morjiing and evening, and that (if he accepts) you should then go on regularly there- after. .-Ml of which we will talk over and .settle tletails Can you come to my ofhce at, .say, 4 p. m. t ulay en rimle for BnK>klyn'? We can then have a talk iiefore Halliday and I invite you formally or exchange notes with you Even if we have not settled all details by tonight, I shall still wish to make the annoimceimmt of the arrangement as proposed and probable, so that I can get into the papers the communication of the Advisory Committee, which sets forth the requirements of the Plymouth Church pa.storate and will check some re- actitmary tendencies that are jis yet only afloat and have not crystallized. ^ o\irs 1!. W. Raymo.nu. I Kivp this letter substantially in full because it strikingly illustrates one pha.se of Dr. Raymond's character. He was a man of strong convic- tions, not easily swerved from the path he had marke«l out for himself. But he was ;ilways a 'good mixer'; he habitually respected the opinions, •I ".-«rc»»i ^TT^ .jm 34 lUOOKAPIIICAL HKBTCIIEH tlmt when I caiiH" lo tin; chuifli in tlu' fall I found, not a (lisorRunizpil and M'attoicd nicniluTshii), but a uniti's. This Ix-ague Iweame the soeial organization of the ehureh, brought the widely scattered congrega- tion together in monthly meetings held in the Sunday-school r(M)m and parlors, introduced the meml)ers to one another, furnished some enter- tainment, generally provided by the young people, and rendered an inestimable service by converting a Sunday audience into a ('hristian family. Not only in the organization of the League but in the arrange- ments of the programs in the earlier years of its existence — and often persons from outside the church were invited to contribute to the pleasure of the evening— Dr. Raymond took an active but not prominent part. He kept him.self in the background, though always by his soeial qualities a lear of S(ri|)ture and ecpiipped him for two other services whii li he rendered to and through Plymouth Chunii. I'ntil the death of Thomas (J. Shearman called him to the suiM-rin- tendency of the Sunday-school, Dr. Raymond carried on a large and interested I )il de-class. Hut perhai)s more important still was the spiri- tual service ho rendered in his prayer-meeting talks. Th<>se were appar- ently spontaneous, hut his biblical scholarship, his vivid imagination, his genial humor, and his warm heart made them always interesting and often of unique value. I wish that they could have Im-oh taken down and published in book form. They would have contributed a very real addition to our devotional literature. They never were taken down, and though 1 do not think that the presence of a short-hand writer in the prayer-me(>ting would have made any difference to Dr. Raymond, it wouKl have stricken with dumbness some of those accustomed to take |)art in what was a very free family gathering, and he would have l)oen one of the first to oppose such a plan if it had been propo.'-od. It would, however, ) ' aps, be possible to make a selection of his C'hristmas stories. Iv.e' hristmas he wrote and read to the Sunday- school a story, a service which he rendered without a single break for 50 years. The last story read a few days before his death was his fifti(>th. The.se were not stories with a moral; nor were they mere contributions to the entertainment of an hour. The moral was in the story, not ap- p« aded to it nor drawn from it. The fiftieth I have not .seen; the forty- ninth- — Christmas li>17 — was an exciting story of adventure, sure to inspire in the boys and girls who heard it the spirit of courage and of patriotism. One other asjM'ct of Dr. Raymond's church life I have left to the last, because it is the most important; and yet about it I can say practically nothing, iH'causo about it I know nothing exc<'pt its existence. His house was almost as much a pastor's house as mine; indeed, I am inclined to think ho did more pastoral work than I did. His home was a spiritual centre. (Jo there almost any evening excr>pf Friday, when ho was always at our prayer-meeting, and I w()uld find some young people, perhaps only one, perhaps half a dozen, perhaps in frolic, jM-rhaps in group conversation; but (piite as prol)ably, one talking quietly with Dr. Ilaymond and another as quietly with Mrs. R,iymnnfl. Both husband and wife had the rare faculty of drawing out the secret exporionees of the yoimg, even of the shy. Of course, I did not know what was the subject of the.se personal conforenco.s, though sometimes those who had been put r.VMAX ABHOTT 37 on their way told inc Rrat.'fiilly iifttTwanl. aiid o.-casionally Dr. Raymoiul would consult with ni.' n'spfctinu; tho counHPl hi- liad Riven, or wouIm Kivc, in sonw rxc.'ptional lasi'. In my corrcspondrn.c I find the co; v of a lonu letter written one Sunday afternoon l.y Dr. Raymond to an inciuirer. dealing in a spirit of perfect frankness and fairness with that ever-rx-rploxinK (piestion: How can we reconeile the existeneo of sin and sufferinR with faith in a just u id benevolent Creator? This letter, written to one |M>rpIexed soul, is quite lonn enough to 1h> a .sermon and num. thoughtful than many sermons. Dated shortly after I came to Plymouth C'hunh, I suspe.t Dr. Iliiymond sent it to me. that I might know the sort of quest ioning I would have to meet in the minds of my .-ongregafion. From it I (luote one paragraph In-cause it illustrates not only the thoroughr;ess of his thinking and the conciseness of his style, but also a fundamental axiom in his religious phil(.sophy— the moral freedom of num. The p<)8?il)ility of wilfully wrong clioic.-, not thp choice itw'lf, jh the neccsnary result of frccloin. The iM-nalty of mx i« not confined to the winner. Pain i.s not punish- ment. Hulf our difficulty iirises from our persistent belief timt it is gj, or ought to be We talk about people suffering more th,..n they deserve; we want to km)w why the innocent sh.nild sulTer with or for the guilty. " Wl,., s.nnod, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"— And we cant accept the answer, "Neither" .\11 the physical, and even mental pain of the worl.l is , ntirelv separate from guilt I doubt whether guilt .i-s such incurs even .Kpiritual pain. The penalty is not pain, but death, and the pain comes when the benuinl)ed spiritual life begins to prickle a8 it wakes up. I shall not attempt to add to this already long papc-r any analysis of Dr. Raymond's charact^^r. I have never l)een inclined to practice vi- visection on my friends either for my own entertainment or for the en- tertainment of others. But I nuiy jot down here a few features in his character partly illustrated by some extracts from his letters. He was an omnivorous reader. Everything was grist that came to his mill, but not everything was equally profitable. He did not grind up the cob with the corn. He knew how to kwp what was worth keeping and to throw away the worthless. His mind was not stored with ui assorted and useless knowledge. What he knew he transformed either into experiences or into tools that he could use a.s needed. "He was always an eager listener", .says the Rev. Rol)ert E. Carter of Washington, CJonnecticut, which was Dr. Raymond's country home, " No minister ever had a better listener than we ministers had in Dr. Raymond. He was a genius at hstenmg; it almost seemed to me, in our little church, that he listened out loud, we Were .so completely conscious of his following our thought or going ahead of it". And he listened as eagerlj when he disagreed with the speaker a.s when he agreed with him. Mr. Beecher was brought up in the old individualis- 6S HIOdKAPHICAI. HKKT(MK« tic «ch«H)l of )N)liticnl oconoiny and wii-ioUijiy. My stuction, toward a Uirnvr powiT of KovcriiiiKMit, iiiiil tnwiinl !i larncrfiiMcliori of nuvcrnim-nt. In the stMiolonitiil splicn' I WiiM nitinitiK (•(•untf-r to the soiitiinciit of the (hurrli, unit to the o|)iiiiMii of Dr. Uay- niond. But the diffcrrncoft in opinion never interfered with our friendship or weakened his !4U|)port for liis pastor. Hix attentive listeninn and cor- dial support xave nie eouraxe when without sueh inspiration from him and others I thiniv my courage woui* a iniM, and watch it as an ennineer watches his cnKine, not satisfied without knowing the eau.se and meaninK of every squeak in the nuichinery. On the other hand, I eonfes,H that I do not call in a machinist to take apart and tinker the rods and valves on every possible (X'casion. My perscmal experience is that health is the cure for illness — and that loo niueli doctorinK is almost as bad as too little. Spontaneity of service was characteristic not oidy of Dr. Raymond but of his whole family — indeed it was characteristic of Plymouth t'hurch. Rarely did ^ "sk any meml)er of the church for any specific service and receive a u. .ination or an excuse. I venture to turn aside from this purely personal narrative' to in.sert here a letter of Dr. Raymond's son, Alfred, not now living, for nothing from his father which I find among my papers better illustrates this spirit, equally characteristic of father and >f son, which made Plymouth .so truly a "working church". February 25, 1891 My (h-ar Dr. Abbott; I have just received your kind invitation and the enclosed card of topics. Yes, inde<'d. I accept with gladness and thank you for asking me! I am a yfuing disciple and have not yet been subjecteii to the deeper and more trying experiences of the Christian life, except through sympathy. Hut I have exp«TieneiHl the joy and sweet- ness of Christ's U)ve, and I should l)e fiJ.se and unworthy if I could not testify, however humbly, to its richness and power. May 1, then, choose March i;{, 'Christians not Orphans', .John xiv: 1.5-31'? Yours sincerely .Alfred Raym()m>. ■ Xfctrt^'i .*.*-ti l.YM.\X AnnoTT 39 Hiiiiinr i.H not only oil fo rc'ours truly, R. VV. Raymond. The habit of set.ing the humorous side of even the most aeriou.s prolv lems of life is probably temi)eramental; but it was certainly delilM>rately developed by Dr. Raymond. " If there be joy in the world", says Thomas h Kempis. "certainly the man who.se heart is pure, po.ssesses it". Dr. Raymond believed that there is joy in the world and that CK)d means his children to possess it. Joy which the Puritans regarded as a temptation, if not a sin, Dr. Ilay- mond regarded as a duty. Not to joy in the Lord, he thought the sign of an ungrateful heart ; to joy in the Ix)rd, the sign of a filial heart. He believed in the customary n.creations of American society, such as music, dan-ing, cards, atid the theatre. He wa.s as good a play-fellow in vaca- tion as he was a work-fellow in term time, but he habitually took his pleasures in moderation, and it cannot_l>e trtithfully said that he was always ecpially moderate in his work. 40 lil(l(;HAPHU AL HKKTCHES But iiiKtead «»f trying l<> speak for him, let me Rive him the opportu- nity to speak fdi himself. AmouK my letters is a loiiK typewritten one of eight pages, sent to Mrs. Abbott in 1889, in whieh he gives some ae- eount of an 'outing' enjoyed by him and his wife in an exeursioji through the Far West. In (ompany with congenial ccmipanions— a trip in whieh "the petty cares of baggage, quarters, time-tables, tickets, meals, etc., were largely taken off our minds by our paid agents and servants; and the fatigues and im onvenien- es of long railroad-travel were transformed into rest and home-comfort by our special car, the l)eautiful, commodious, and beloved lolanthe". From this letter I quote the following frank expression of one pha.se of Dr. Raymond's character: My four youiiK men, Kullunt iiiul active niul full of fun, with the constant undertone of rendy unselfish service and ehivalrir devotion which makes a hoy-gentleman ir- resistihly charming, were not more youthfid in their high .spirits than the oldest of the company. What mooning poet wished he were a hoy again? What mad adventurer wasted his age in sj-ekin'' the fountain of youth? The thing is so ca.sy if one only knows the secret. If you want to Im' a hoy again, why, just l)e a boy again — and hehave accordingly! If you would diink from the fountain of youth, take one step up stream, and tlicre it is. (iet right down on your stomach and drink! These are not more figures of speech. I know hy personal experience, as to tem- peraments like my own, and now once more hy this exceptionall.v thort)Ugh confirma- tory observation, as to temperaments of all kinds, that it is possible to lay care aside like a garment, and to renew the soul by a baptism of youth. What if we do have to put on our clothes again? Shall we therefore never bathe? I yield to the temptation to ;idd here one other paragraph from this letter Ix'cau.se it illustrates a fundamental phase of Dr. Raymond's ex- perience. He never thought that piety and gaiety were incongruous. He felt toward his Father in heaven as he wished his children to feel toward him and was as ready to see humor in a prayer-meeting as to see stupidity in a theatre, if it were there. Friday night, the Deaconess and I went ilown to pray?r-mecting. There were .'{0 or 40 present. Mr. H. led the meeting »vith simplicity and appropriateness, and spoke on the subject of the .Sunday-school lesson, which w,%s .Samuel and Saul. When there came the 'dreadful patise', and nobody would speak, I got up at last and by an amazing tnur lie force (for which I ipi'te admire mys«!lf ) managed to cimnect Saul with the (irand Canyon of the Colorado, after which 'there was fire-works' for a while. Brother S., who followed, had a hard time getting hix thought hitched on to my rear platform (th(! lolanthe usually tolerates no attachment to her observation balcony). But he made the connection, with bold naireie, somewhat thus: "When I hear about such things as Brother R. has described, and think of the wonders I have seen myself — Innddcrs, and — and — other such things, I feel to exclaim, ' What a great country this is — and what are we doing to win it to (Christ?' hrethrrn, it seems to me sometimes a.H if we were not doing as much for Christ as we might be a-ous yeare of youth, filled with its bright ideals for the future. Alt' Heidellierg Du feinc- Du Stadt am Ehrwi reich- Ain Neckar uiul jini Rheino- Kein and'ro i« Dir Klcii'li- We nmy not easily reproduce in its entirety the learned faculty of those days, but we do recall that in its lecture-rooms the famous Bunsen taught, best known as chemist, but really no less influential as geologist. In the decade of the 'fifties Bunsen had made his famous journey to Iceland and had studied not alone the geysers, so as to leave us his theory regarding their action, but also the vast exhibition of volcanic phenomena and ig- neous rocks. As a result, and aided by the many analyses of igneous rocks from Asia Minor by Abich, he developed his views of two fundamental magmas, the normal-trachytic and the normal-pyroxenic, from which by mixtures of different proportions of each, and by the fusing-in of sand- stones at the one extreme and of hmestones at the other, all the varying grades of igneous rocks were supposed to be developed. We may well imagine tlie eagerness with which broad generalizations such as these would b( grasped by so absorptive a mind as that of our young Herr .StudiosiiK h'erum Naturce. In 1860 Raymond moved to Munich, the 'comfortable' city, asits inhabitants like to describe it. Franz von Kobell was then professor of mineralogy — and of him 25 years later Professor Ciroth, his successor, said to me that von Kobell was "poet, painter, and musician, as well as mineralogist". If so, he must have been a sympa- thetic teacher of young Raymond, who was himself, if not painter, at least poet and nmsician. Although we have in mind in this sketch to stress especially Dr. Ray- mond's work in geology and related branches of science, yet perhaps for a moment we may leave the straight track for a side-path. In the late 'sixties and early 'seventies I was a small boy up-town in Brooklyn and wiis sent to Sunday-school by a pifU's mother w'th the same regularity with which Sunday came around. Along with other boys of liki; age I used lustily to sing the Sunday-school hymns. They formed, indeed, a very important part of the exercises. There were two that especially appealed to us and that we most of all preferred to have the superintendent give out. The words of one began, as I recall: Morning red, inurninft red, Now the shadow.s all are fled. Now the sun in cloudles,s glory Tells anew the wondroiiN story. The air was a simple and beautiful one, like a folk-song, which had .'ome down through generations. JAMKKt F. KEMP 45 The second air was more in the nature of a chorus and when once it was started, it fairly s»nK itself. The hoys liked it letter than any other hymn set for thorn. The words ran: Fur out on tiw r. Only a few years ago I desired to look up all the old records on (Jold Hill and Clifton in western Utah, before going there for the study of some interesting con- tact-zones, and could find no records of the camps except in Raymond's reports. Many miles of desert cut them off from the larger settlements; but many miles of desert had not prevented the energetic Commissioner from securing and recording the main facts of the prospects. One only needs to picture the endless and almost trackless billowy mountains of Idaho; the lofty ranges of Colorado; the burning deserts of Utah, Nevada, and Arizona; the remote valleys and peaks of Montana; and the vast extent of the Sierra Nevada and the Coast ranges, in order to realize that Jason and his Argonauts, searching for the golden fleece, had a very easy task compared with that of the U. S. Commissioner of Mining Statistics west of the Rocky Mountains. Of course, there were helpers. Chief among them, and the principal worker in Arizona, was Anton Eilers, who brought to the task the tradi- tions and training of the old mining academy of Clausthal, even as Dr. Raymond did those of Freiberg. Now, when we read the beautiful tribute paid by Dr. Raymond to his old friend at the memorial services, the account of which Karl Eilers, the son, has so thoughtfully and appro^ priately preserved for us, we realize that the tribute was based on long and intimate association. The reports of the Commissioner were not all made up of the details of mining camps. The closing pages of each volume contain papers of general interest and of scientific or technical value. His very first report, while officially devoted to the regions west of the Rocky Mountains, has a paper by James W. Taylor on the 'Mineral Resources East of the Rocky Mountains'. In the volume for 1869 is an unsigned one, presumably by the Commissioner himself, on the 'Relations of Governments to Mining. ' It is naturally followed the next year by one on the 'United States Min- ing Law', in which Dr. Raymond compiled the draft of a bill. He also contributed an article on 'Mineral Deposits'. In the report for 1871 we find a paper on the 'Origin of Gold Nuggets', and in the one for 1872 a contribution by Dr. Raymond himself on 'Electricity and Rocks,' read originally before the Troy meeting of the Institute in November 1871 . The report for 1873 contaias a geological map of the United States prepared by C. H. Hitchcock and W. P. Blake for the census reports of the time. In the volume for 1875, the 'Geology of the Sierra Nevada in Its Relation to Vein Mining' is discussed by Amos Bowman, after an introduction by Dr. Raymond, who speaks sympathetically of the timeli- ness and vahie of generalizations such as those set forth. In the last of the volumes, that for 1876, the impressive review by Abram S. Hewitt of 4H UI*)(1HAPIIIhm like i-opiMT-platt* ciiKruviriK than wuMPo(ie|i- iiy's. Few HUthors in a foroiftn ♦ongtie haw had transhitora at once so Kiftcd with the coniinaiHl of a suiiji'ct and with such nra«'«> and felicity of expn'Mxion. The roMult was not only an int(>r(>8tinK sunuimry of aukillod ol>8erver'« vii'ws, hut a iniiMterpiectc of lucid KnKl '^h. Around the essay gathered a serij's of i'Xtreinely valuabh> and import- ant contributions and discussions, accumulated under the guidiuK hand of the secretary of the Institute. All were afterward eilited and grouped as a whole in the separate volume brought out by the Institute and now on the book-shelves of every mining geologist. To Dr. Kaymond we owe a great debt for the preparation and issue of this book. Then followed fifteen years extremely fruitful in new ideas. The part played by igneous phenomena, whether in the way of direct magmatic crystallizations or of after-effects; the contact-zones and their elucidation; th«' actual processes of replacement and the changes in wall-rocks; the phenomena of secondary enrichment; the restriction in depth of the meteoric ground-water — one fundamenal question after another crowded to the front. Dr. Raymond, sitting in his secretarial office of the In- stitute and with his encyclopedic grasp of what was passing, was fully alive to the interest and importance of it all, and conceived the idea that a second volume under the immediate oversight of Samuel Franklin Emmons would alone adequately summarize the rapid evolution of ideas. At Dr. Raymond's request Mr. Emmons undertook the task, selected the papers, wrott? the very valuable introductory review, and alas, passed away just before the manuscript went to press. The volume thus became the Emmons memorial volume, and took its place on every mining geolo- gist's book-shelf beside the Posepny volume, whose second edition had also become a memorial. Both these volumes we owe primarily to Dr. Raymond, and I may here express the debt that geology as related to the problems of mining owes to him. In his editorial capacity as secretary of the Institute ind in his con- tributory relations with the 'Engineering and Mining Journal', Dr. Raymond was brought into personal connections with many young writers on engineering themes and scientific subjects, not alone on geology. A word of acknowledgment may be recorded of the help and encourage- ment so often and so generously extended to them. Not only in the subject-matter, but in grace and lucidity of expression, are not a few indebted to him. Technical education dws not always add the gift of clear exposition to soundness of knowledge. Sometimes the man of action soems thereby unfitted for imparting to others the fullness of his own command of a subject. Sometimes, however, the conciseness and beauty of the mathematical and exact sciences that are the baais of en- gineering, exercise their proper influence on the habits of mind of him who has been trained in them. F. Hopkinson Smith, who could write JAMKH F. KKMP fil tin- MMwt fhaniiiiiK talcs « «•>•«•, wiwan •■riKiin'cr an«l builder of light hciUNes on danKenuM and wcll-niKh inac- cj'Hsible rwfH: Frank DenipHter Sherman, whose deliRhtful verwcshave charmed many thouriandM of readcrH, was my own clu-sH-mate in the engi- neering school, and taught the calculus and the principles of enginiH-ring construction to students of architecture: Clarence King, mining geologist and engineer, was a writer of almost uncqualed charm and a judge of works of art of exceetling discrimination and skill: a dozen t\;ptain« of industry could l)e named who have developed in later life, as they have acquired the means with which to gratify their tastes, a similar sound and discriminating critical taste in works of art: Rossiter Worthington Raymond, with all his grasp of engineering and science, amid his busy life in active practice and in the office of the Institute, was story-writer, poet, musician, and was responsive to the call of what we idealize as Art. But he had also the saving grace of humor and could see the amusing side of things. One characteristic incident will bring to a close this little tribute. In the final decade of the eighteen hundreds, there existed in New York a little dining-club of 25 scientific men from the colleges and schools of the city and vicinity and from civil life. It was called the Lunar Society, and during the eight working months of the year had a monthly dinner on the evening of the full moon. The club had been organized by H. Carrington Bolton, the chemi.st, who had written a life of Priestley, the di.scovcrer of oxygen, the very interesting Englishman, half theolo- gian, half man of science, whose later years were pa.s.sed and finally closed at Northumberland, Pennsylvania. Toward the end of the seven- teen hundreds, Priestley had lived at Birmingham, England, and along with Boulton and Watt, the builders of the steam t-ngines of the day; William Murdoch, the inventor of gas-Ughting; Erasmus Darwin, the grandfather of Charles Darwin; and a few others of less extended fame, had formed the original Lunar Society, which perforce had dined at the full-moon because otherwise they could not see their several ways to their homes. The presiding officer in each of thest^ clubs, although a century apart in time and three thousand miles apart in meeting places, was called the Man-in-thc M : At the New York club, after a good dinner at Clarke's famous restaurant on Twenty-third strwt, the Man-rn-the- Moon called upon the mcmlMTs in turn, beginning on his right, forsome bit of interesting experience that had come up in their scientific work or reading since the last dinner. Discus.«ion usually ensued of an exception- ally stimulating character, and seldom was a topic mentioned without developing some vnt at the table who could speak upon it with authority. To one of the dinners I took down a copy of that rather rare book, the. first edition of Thomas Macfarlane's 'Coal Regions of North America', .V2 IIIodHliniK \l. HKKIrifK.s piililislicd ill IS73. The In-t • liHpiii iM'fnri' ihf apiM-ii.lix is iJcvoted to Novji Sroti.M. Tlif author ii i uis luit to havi' viMitod Nova Sfotiu hiiii- wlf, but from tlw wntink;-> iiu: reports of others he hud Kiiiiicd ii most iitifortiitiate iiiiprcsHinh >f lli< 4 mily a uiiliiarian view of f la- Nova Sciitia rcnion, there must occur a fiH-liiiK of regret that in some of its lo(aliti«'S its fM'uiiK of roal are so unfortuiiutoiy suljdividi'd into thin sheetx too small to work, and in other places disposed in ma--ies inconvenieiitiy large, uncertain and irregular in form. D r r, wt i:ike a higher and more thoughtfi:^ view of the sul)j«'ct, we will iK^rv' the malevoleiire of that Providence which, in its apjmrent angi r, inn .sut merged iK-neath the ocean so niuch that might have lM>nefited ir lace, oi caused it to Im' eaten away ttu nigh countless ages by the action n!' ifu wiives, leaving <.nly poor fragments to tell us of the much largei f.ur ""r-: ttiat 'lave 'n'en removed. Her (■( «=• cannot doubt but that the imi !i in i; "ocks, ii.s well as its soil, was "urs*'!! for our sake, and that far bii'K in the geological ages there was built up by a Being, who saw the end from !h< ix>l' ininj.' a mutilated plaiut as a lit habitation for a fallen race."' The members of the Lunar Society were greatly entertained li\ the paragraph, and Dr. Hayinund, who was a uember of the socieiy. bor- rowed the book and took it home with him The vievv> advanced were naturally esp<'cially interesting to a metnln'r of Henry Ward He<'cher's church. .V week or two afterward there appeared in the Kngineenng and Mining Journal' one <>t the Doctor's inimitable sign- i < ijiiorials, in which he merrily commented on the pa.ssage, md showid how naturally a supporter of one type of orthodoxy in Peiiiisy'vania could understand how the Blue Noses of Nova Scotia, supporter:- of another type, hail come under the wrath of the Deity, lie finally made t!. i>oint that the argument had not been carried to its legitimate conclusion, l)eKra|)h was edited out of ttio two suIwimiuciU nlilions of this pxtremeiy valuable aiul jiii[M)rtant trciitisp. l'>. -WT Ht'ininisfemvs Hv ■'" A. Mk'Kaiik Karly in ixMi on my x-.ay Ironi New Zi-altuicl t" im w »iith«'r I had Inrii callii iiv iiiy fatht-r to t:(ke cha'no of u Ki<»up ol niirM'H mar Alli'iiioiil in till >U'p«rtni< itoHht' Is«'n', I r l<>d at thf office of the Anicri- «-un IiiMtituto <>i \fifiiiiK EiitUM'crs, whu /h( 'i \^ - {i< nirik'd at 13 HurlinK i^lip. Ix'lor Wall -trw-t Mv nurnose in calliiiK w.. Ic make the aif- laintu n of -ccrotiin., l>r. h . «», id, with whom I ha»^<)n of my fii-^t confn AlorRan mim- prcser* On be -iR ushered u, two Kontleiii' anwe togrc* i "Which one vv foil .Ik kIb, a^ Australia?" iiition to I at the •>< into I con- lu-nioHt ire you: knew what he meant; Rickards I was; for at tliat time our answered (luce you la-sesof Kaoiin?" Ml the with not hi^ repres»'ntatives in thi Institute. ' whereupon he said: '' Then let nie inti 1. .c just been discussing t lie origin of th' i« ri Hill lode. What is the .source ■ product of deeoiiiposition from thi neiss". Thus I iiiad«' my first atqu. Ish' I am proud to have won later, li , ill inti itely until five or six years subsequ the Transacfions, a piifjer i Clevelaiid i. eting in Iun< .1 cheerful i >m overl. iki versatioji. Mrwof them, . l>olit< !'• ilHl. 1 th< ( lora*iti I 'a! tornia li *'ishetl ' ;iiow f;.!nily h; it r ,,r promptly Ai^^tr to Mr. Kiuaioi kaolin m the Bro. I rep ><|; It is vviUl- k, whn '> t vo nun w - begin to kn first nieetiiii- ''>t»ra Frj»n* i .sent t' Dr. Raymond, for the Transactions, my (on- tribuliong on 'J a (Jardette: The History of a French (Jold Mine' and 'The In-ndigo ' oldfield ', the latter the first of three papers on the famous •?ld i»i ing district in Victoria, Austraha. These were presented at the eefings in Octolx^r 1891 and Febru; r,- 1892, respectively. Within tiiree yea- -18! to 1894—1 contributed lune papers to the Transactions. This lit! act ivify was due in no small measure to the encouragement Jfiven by lary, in whom I found not only an editor of extraordi- nary abilit. r a friend rich in stimulating helpfulne.^fs. My 8(!cond (all at his office wa,s in January 1892, about nine months after the first visit. I had come fiom France to New York to serve as assistant to the late George Cowland, who was acting as consulting engi- neer to H. H. Warner, of 'Safe Cure' fanie, a promoter of engaging per- sonality and, as I found later, of fluid integrity. At our second meeting 53 54 BIOGRAPHICAL ('KKTCHKS Dr. Raymond montioncd that Emmons had made tho criticism that I was not sufficirntly careful in orienting my geological drawings. The Doc- tor bul)Wed over with cheery Humor and pertinent information. I made the most of my privilege to discuss his editing of njy contributions and to gain from him suggestions helpful in my next writing. In the summer of 1892, while at Prescott, Arizona, I received a letter from Dr. Raymond stating that a Mr. Dunn had written to him from Australia charging me with plagiarizing his Idea.son the structural geology of Bendigo; in short, Mr. Dunn claimed that my explanation of the lode- structure had bwn taken from him, without acknowledgment. When I read the first part of Dr. Raymond's letter I was dismayed, &s might well be supposed, for this was a bolt from the blue. On reading further I found compensation; for the Doctor proceeded to say that I must not worry, tlie charge was refuted by the internal evidence of the text, the character of which afTord(>d strong disproof of any such accusation. He enclosed a copy of his reply to Mr. Dunn, defending me even before he had received my denial. It was a striking proof of his confidence in my scientific sincerity, and it is worthy of record as testimony to the generosity of his mind. I wrote at once to disabuse him of the idea that Mr. Dunn was a man of no con.sequence, explaining that E. J. Dunn was a veteran geologist and a high scientific authority. At the same time I wrote to Mr. Dunn mj-self and told him that if he would withdraw his imputation I »vould explain how he had been misled and I would meet his criticism in a friendly way. Among the 'Errata' at the end of Volume XX of the Transactions will be found a note, by the secretary, dealing with this incident. I need not go into it further, except to add that four years later Mr. Duim cabled to me from New Zealand, offering me an appointment ius engineer to an important mining enterprise, and, when declining it, I was able to express my hearty appreciation of his good-will. At the Chicago Exposition mw^ting in 1893 I had my first opportunity of watching Dr. Raymond in action, of observing how he managed the sessions and guided the discussions. His speech at the closing session of the International Science Congress, a foregathering of scientific men attracted by the Exposition, was in his best vein. The preceding speeches had ))een rather dull and several of the representatives of foreign coun- tries had matle the mistake of sp«'aking had English instead of good French or (lerman. Hence it w;is a relief to listen to an accomplished .speaker like Dr. Raymond. He arrested the attention of the audience at the start by saying, not 'Gentlemen', but 'Brethren'; and then, explaining that he had 'oeen called upon to respond for both mining and metallurgy, he likened himself to the camels conspicuous in the Exposition grounds, l)ecause he harl to "hump himself two ways", and .so gave a humorous touch that put everybody at ea.se. Reviewing the proceedings and sum- marizing the results of the international gathering, he placed his finger T. A. RICKARD 55 on the significant fouturt' of the conference, telling his audience that while they had brought forward new ideas and uncovered new principles, they had done even bettor, for they had "discovered one another". In 1895 I was established as consulting engineer at Denver. Busi- ness was dull, so I was delighted to receive a letter from Dr. Raymond asking me to Ik; his assistant in an examination of the Drumlummon mine, owned by the Montana Mining Company, an English corporation. He .offered me a fee larger than I would have asked as a principal, and I mention the fact to illustrate another phase of his generosity. It was agreed that he should pick me up at Denver. When he arrived I ar- ranged a luncheon in his honor at the Denver Club. The party included Thomas B. Stearns, Henry T. Rogers, Dean Hart, Dr. W. A. Jayne, Richard Pearce, and my brother Forbes. I knew that Mr. Pearce, who is now 82 and living near Liverpool, had had a falling out with the Doctor. The incident was characteristic. When Mr. Pearce was president of the Institute in 1889, he was presiding at a meeting, at Denver, to which the secretary was late in coming. The president waited for the secre- tary; he delayed the opening of the proceedings for ten minutes or more, expecting the Doctor to arrive at any moment, until it seemed proper to wait no longer. So the session was started with the reading of a paper, and this was hai 'sponded in a similar spirit. He made a speech worthy of a bigger oc- casion, reviewing his early experience in Colorado and his CMitact with men prominent in the development of the local mining industry. Cordial relations were restored between the secretary and the ex-president, al- though none of the other guests understood the significance of their fraternization. Next day the Doctor and I took train for Butte, going thence to Marj'sville. Dtiring the journey we played chess; for he usually carried a set of chess-men; at other times he studied chess problems or re^d fiction. He was fond of Anna Katherine (ireon and Gaboriau detective stories 50 HKXUIAI'HICAI, KKfcl CHKS and othor light literature, because they afforded him mental relaxation. He talked a good deal and always interestingly, having an extraordinary fund of diversified knowledge. Among other matters I touched upon the early days of Leadville and the Chrysolite deal. The older men in the pro- fession will recall the fact that the Doctor was mixed up in a mining scandal arising out of an over-valuation of the Chrysolite mine, nearly forty years ago. When I first went to Colorado, in 1885, that affair was quoted as a blow to the profession bt-cause it had hurt the reputation of an engineer so distinguished as Dr. Raymond. The Chrysolite wa.s a rich silver mine and was the cause of much stock speculation on the New York mining market. An engineer whose name I forbear to men- tion' — let us call him Blank — was the manager. He had been a junior when Raymond was a senior at Freiberg, and the Doctor had been a good friend to him at the Mining Academy and afterward when Blank started his career in the West. The Doctor was engaged to examine and report upon the Chrysolite. He went to Leadville. As he trusted Blank, he accepted his statements about the quantity of ore in reserve, and did not sample the mine thoroughly. One large block of ground appeared to be solid ore and its appearance was confirmed by the man- ager's statements; so the Doctor made a highly favorable report, which caused quotations to rise in New York. The luct was that the block of supposed ore contained a large core of limestone, as was known to the management through a cross-cut, the position of which had been hidden. When later the truth became known there was a slump in the shares and Dr. Raymond had to submit to severe criticism. Much to my surprise, when I touched upon the subject during our journey to Montana, he said nothing against Blank. Apparently he cherished none of the re^ sentment that would have seemed natural under the circumstance Some years afterward, in 1902, he was approached by a famous mini engineer, then engaged in the promotion of mining schemes, with a view t -^ his writing reports, on the understanding that the sampling should be uojK! by younge • men. He asked me, at Philadelphia, what I thought abyut it, and I urged him not to con.sider the proposal for a moment. "Remember the Chrysolite", I ventured to remark. The truth is that in business matters he was too trusting and too generous to succeeus hos- pitality of Mrs. Bayliss and the company of such men : Bayliss, Cood- ale, .ind the Doctor made the dinner at the end of the day's work a ' ( Hill pn>iiiptc(l to tliis rL'tifeiiW! Im.-vuujm: 1 fi-cl sure tliul Dr. Uayiiioud wuuld Imvn wuthed it. T. A. RICKAKn 57 (leliKhfful sfM'ial function. As th«' Do(!tor's assistant I did most of tlie physical examination of the mine, and when, ut thp ond of a week, the inspection was coniplet<*d, we coUah .rated on the report. Our duty was to make suRKcstions for th(> further exploration of the mine, which was showing signs of impoverisiiment, hasing our advice on geologic evidence, particularly of a structural character. If I recall correctly, we made five recommendations, three of which the Doctor was kind enough to accept from me. When the report was finished, he insisted upon my signing it with !iim, so that it became our joint report. Again he proved his gen- erosity, for it was a great honor to me to have my name coupled with his in a report that was to go Iwfore an important financial group in London. Our stay at Marj'sville was made memorable by his vivacious conver- sation. The evenings were spent delightfully. He proved himself adept in whist, aa well as a remarkably good chess-player. Indeed, in chess he achieved distinction; for example, he was selected as one of five to play against Pillsbury in a contest at Brooklyn; he once drew a hard-fought giime with Steinitz; and in 1908, when a passenger to Europe on the 'Oceanic', he led a group of players who accepted a challenge for a match by wireless telegraphy from a fsimilar group of passengers on the 'Cam- pania'. The team he captained won, thanks to his leadership. In 1900 Richard P. Rothwell asked me to join him in the editorship of the 'Engineering and Mining Journal", but when I discussed the matter with Dr. Raymond he advised me against the step. When later, at the end o.' 1902, I went to New York to take up the editorship of the 'Jour- nal, which had passed, on the decease of Rothwell, into the hands of James H. McGraw and then into those of the late W. J. Johnston, I received a cordial welcome from the Doctor. Just at this time, unfor- tunately, he had to take a holiday in Europe, to correct the bad jflFects of over-work,, so I missed his guidance when I first took the helm of the 'Journal'. During the three or four months while he was absent I edited many of the papers that appeared in the Transactions and on his return I accepted payment in the agreeable form of a number of back volumes of the Transactions, so as to complete my set. He was still a 'special contributor' to the 'Journal' and enriched its columns with an occasional letter or signed article. In 1903 he became interested in a controversy over the New York State College of Forestry at Cornell, and took up the cudgels in behalf of his friend Bernhard E. Fernow, who waF . iirectw of the College and is now Dean of the similar college in the 'rrl'. rsity of Toronto. The Governor of New York had vetoed furth jtate aid to the College of Forestry and it was claimed by Pro- fessor Fernow's friends that he had been influenced by a group of bankers, who objected to the logging operations near Saranac lake because they interfered with their shooting. Dr. Raymond sent me a letter on the subject, for publication, with the statement that it would be followed by III 58 Binr.RAPHICAL SKRTCHE)^ six more. It weeiued to me to b<* uiiMuitable for publication in the 'Jour- nal', and, upon ronsultinn the late Frederick Hobart, of Brooklyn, who had been a fairhfiil assistant to Rothwell, as afterward to me and to W. U. Ingalls in turn, I learned that the controversy was of a locally po- litical chai alter, n-ndering it undesirable in our columns. It had nothing to do with mining, even indirectly. After consultation with Hobart, I wrote to vhe Doctor stating that I could not see my way to publishing hi., series of letters on the subject.' My declination was couched, of course, in terms most friendly and respectful, but ho was so annoyed that it was a long time l)ofore he would write again for the 'Journal'. He did not like criticism or opposition — nor do any of us. for that matter. I remember his asking me if I had seen a certain artiile tjf his in 'Cassier's Magazine'. I replied, " Yes, I enjoyed it very much". Where- upon he exclaimed, " You fould have had it, if you had not turned down those forestry articles of mine". I told this story one day to a mutual friend, who was quick to ask how I would like to nave an article of mine 'turned down'. Then I remembered how, in 1904, I went to Dr. Ray- mond, as secretary of the Instituf", to offer a paper discussing the recom- mendations of a committee of the four engineering societies on standardi- zation of abbreviations, symbols, punctuation, etc., in technical papers. These recommendations had been printed and circulated with the current pamphlets of the Institute.* He demurred to publishing my criticisms, because he thought it inadvisable to start a discussion on the subject, the Institute — or he as secretary-editor — having no desire to impose its style on anybody. I accepted his decision cheerfully and later the rejected paper becume the groundwork of my little book on technical writing, published in 1908. During the three years of my editors, p in New York I wa.s on the council of the Institute for a time and also a member of the first board of directors when the Institute was incorporated in 1905. The council, including the president, vice-presidents, managers, treasurer, and secre- tary, numbered 18, but the average attendance at the meetings was only five or six. Those not present would be informed by the secretary of the decisions reached in council and would send their approval by postcard. Dr. Raymond 'ran the show'. If any of us disagreed with his plans, he overwhelmed us with reasons in support. We recognized the futility of opposition, and, it is fair to add, we appreciated his thorough grasp of the position. As my office was not far away, I was a steady attendant at the meetings, and I found them interesting, simply because Dr. Ray- mond never was anything else. ' In a recent letter to me Pnifefcmir Fernow !«»>•» that he is a]ai{ 1 did not publish the letters, "for it would have been of no use and would simply have made ba(enient section to the Bulletin" in order to increase its n-veniie. This departure was "undertaken with reluctance" hut was considerer in f inu' to iit ti-nd the services at Plymouth Church, in company with the Doctor, Mrs. Riiyniond, aiul Miss Susan Raymond. We heard \\u' Rev. Newell DwikIiI Hillis deliver a powerful .sermon. After the mid-day dinner we went to the Sunday-school, which was directed by Dr. Raymond. He had heen suiwrintendent of it for 25 years and had resinned s<>veral years before, but the death of his successor had caused him to resume the duties of the position. He also conducted a bible- class, which Robert Raymond and I joined. It was immensely interest- ing. Th<« Doctor's 8ul)ject was the life of St. Paul. He began where he had left off the Sunday before, as if the break had been a minute, instead of a week, and poured forth a wonderful story, characterized by humor, erudition, and religious sentiment. When five o'clock arrived, the ringing of a bell call(>d a halt, the bible-classes stopned, and the Doctor left us promptly to ascend the rostrum and conduct the closing service. The hist hymn sung that afternoon was one that he had composed. Then we returned to the house and later accompanied the Doctor to the house of his aunt, a distinguished old lady, Mrs. Howard, where it was the custom for the Raymond kin to foregather at a prayer-meeting every Sunday. Then followed the informal evening meal, or 'supper', after which, I remember, the Doctor read one of Kipling's jungle stories, 'Rikki-tikki-tavi', delightfull> . More good talk followed and finally he sent us back to the Brooklyn Bridge terminus in his brougham. The incidents of the day illustrate his versatility and suggest how entertaining he could be at any time or place. More than once when I asked the Doctor to give me ten minutes of his time he would explain how busy he was and then talk for half or three-quarters of an hour. This .seemed inconsistent. One day, meet ing his brother, Colonel Charles W. Raymond,' I asked him if he had been to see the Doctor. "No", he repUed, laughing, "I don't care to be used as a sounding-board". "How is that", I asked. "Well", he replied, smihng, "when I go to see him he says he is awfully busy and then keeps me for half an hour talking about some old subject in which he happens to be interested, and which does not interest me". I laughed with him, and recognized how I also had been ^asantly hoaxed many rimes. When I would telephone to him asking for a few minutes for consultation, he would reply that h^- was terribly busy but could give me five minutes if I came ngiit away. Upon my arrival at hi>> ()ffic«> we would consume three minutes in settling the matter in hand and then I Sti to Iw one of the Hpeakers at a banqtiut Kiven at the Waldorf-Astoria hotel. The banquet was on a Wednesday; on the previous Monday he sent nie, as editor of the 'Journal', the text of his 8p<'ech, which he had written on the Saturday previous. I sent it to the composing-room and had the proof of it in my pocket when present at the banquet. If he had l)een unable to deliver it, everybody would have known that it was written out beforehand, because it went to the printer, as part of that week's issue (October 27, 1904) of the 'Journal', a day before it was to be delivered. While he was speaking I compared his phrasing with the proof in my hand. It was verbatim, even to interjections that seemed to be born of the impulse of the moment. For instance, he refecred to King Edward, and, apparently on the spur of the moment, he interjected, "and may God bless him, as God blessed his sainted mother", a sentiment that elicited instant applause. Another similar interpolation referred to producers and consumers; he exclaimed, " Whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder" The speech wiis most successful, of course; but he made a mistake, and it is one made by many less clever men. When the speech as written had been spoken, he made a fresh start, adding the equivalent of twenty or thirty lines. '1 he chairman, Mr. Andrew Carnegie, rather discourteously, I thought, interrupted him, so that the effect of the speech was marred. Coming out of the dining-room the Doctor said to me, "How close was it to the text?" I replied, "Perfectly". He continued, "But I ought to have stopp(>d". " Yes", said 1. In preparing the memorial address, I had written that his extempore speeches could not be distinguished from those that he had "memorized". His daughter, Mrs. Bellinger, to whom I read my address before delivery, suggested that "memorized" should be replaced by "written", liecause when he wrote a speech he did not have to memorize it consciously: the act of writing it served to memorize it. This retentive memory was a great help to him in public speaking. At our Institute meetings he was usually .called upon to make the sfK'ech in which the visitors thanked the residents for their hospitality. This happened so often that once he demurred. It was at Aspen. Sev- eral of us in turn had l^een requested by the chahnan of the committee on arrangements to express the thanks proper to the occasion; each in turn suggested that the Doctor ought to do it, because we knew he could do it best. When he rose to respond, he began with an apology for »» apparent disinclination to perform the gracious task. He was asked U> speak so often, he said, thit he was reminded of the Civil War veteran who had told his little boy so much about his own performances in the War that the boy exclaimed: "Pop, couldn't you get anybody to help you nut down that rebellion?" When he made a witty or humorous point, he would smile and give a Utile chuckle, joining in the merriment. Another story. The Doctor was called "vindictive" sometimes, by T. A. RICKARD 03 thotw whom he engaged successfully in controversy. He was a skilful (httlectician, and unhappy was the man whom he countered in contro- versy. Somebody asked Clarence King if Raymond wa8 not vindictive Kmg di-murred, suggesting that he was only belligerent. To illustrate the distinction he told the following story: "Not long ago I was going up the trail from Silverton to the Silver Lake mine and I met a long train of mules carrying sacks of concentrate. Each mule had his tail tied to the halter of the one behind him, su that he was prevented from bringing his heels into action— all except the last; a*- I came abreast of him on the narrow trail and prepared to pass, I thought I saw a wicked look in his eye, so I said to the packer or mu'le- skmner, 'Is that mule vicious?' 'No', he replied, 'he ain't exactly vicious but he's kmd o' versatile with his hind hoofs'. The Doctor was versatile —with his pen— undoubtedly, but he was a kindly man, a generous man, and if he used his pen so that it touched more than paper it was in the joyousness of combat and the exuberance of mind— not to hurt, but to make good his argument". He h?fl the ability to digest a mass of information quickly and to present it in attractive form. He could master a new subject with wonderful facility. This enabled him to give public lectures on a great variety of topics. For instance, George W. Maynard told me how one day he asked Raymond to dine with him on the following Thursday. "Thursday?" he replied, "No, I can't do it; I have to lecture on 'Storms' at the Cooper Union next Thursday". Maynard said, laughing, " What do you know about storms?" "Nothing, but I'll know all about them by Thursday". He did; he went to Washington, discussed the subject with the experts of the Weather Bureau, and returned in time to deliver a lecture that proved to his audience that he knew all about storms that was worth knowing. He accumulated knowledge as a kitten laps milk. He could correlate facts so that they became living knowledge. He was an educator. 1 Roiiiiniscriicvs Hy AkTHVK M. 1)W KIHT Thr Krcaf 'Icbt that the niininn fiiRiiMHTH of Aint'riru owe to Dr. Uayiuond Hha \kh}i\ widely nTORnized and acknowlodKod. Hih untirinn literary activitios iw writer aiul speaker in molding the thought, promot- ing the fnH> ex<'hangeof technical idea** and experience, stimulating and aiding the naturally silent ones to speak or publish their experience, have Iwrne rich fruit in the long line of technical volumes, which show through- out , the traces of his unerring touch; the eight volumes of the 'U. 8. Mining Statistics' (1860-76), the early volumes of the 'Engineering and Mining Journal', whirs and metallurgists who set the standard of the profession in those early days, and who have now all passed on — Clarence King, Arnold Hiiguc. ('. A. Stetefeldt, S. F. Enmions, the Janin brothers, and others, while later I was thrown into intimate business relationship with more of the Mine >?roup, Anton Eilei-s, my first master in the practical art of metallurgy; and Otto H. Hahn, his superintendent at Pueblo; also Franz Folir ;ind August Rahl. It hould be remembei il thai up to about 1880 most of our mining ti4 AKTHlTt ». DWKiHT 60 .•iiKiiiwrH were irainetJ in t».« »,ininK Hohooln of (Jcriimnv. mid m latv m 188.5 whon I w..„t Wp«t to.ir. Kilorn' HmrltiiiK plant at piieblu, ( Jolorado. nearly all fh.- active .ngincHTH in Ih.Hi mininR and wncltinR lineo were graduatoH »f KhmIhtk an.l ClauHtha.'. The American inininR whool. were only jiwt heRinninK to make their preHence felt, alHu.UKh their Kra< uufeH were M.njn to lHrest and practical aid, and years aft<.rward gladly acknowl«.dg..d their debt of gratitude Mr hilers iHH-ame a clos«. an.l life-long friend; Mr. Mever «,.|dom saw him agam, but he retained always a lively sense of appreciation, which he expressed to me, when I came to know him well, many years after Two rather trivial incidents may be worth the telling, not only as chara-tenstic of thi.s helpful phase of Dr. Raymond's activities, but also as throwing a side light on the early experienc es of these two interesting pioneers m the smelting business, who were widely known as representing the iMJst types of technical and business success. While a student at the Mining Academy at Freiberg, Saxony Mr Meyer had taken particular interest in the newly developed Parkes pro- cess for the desilverizution of argentiferous lead, and had availed himself of special opportunities in the German metallurgical works to gather data for a scientific paper on the subject. On his return to his home at St. Loms, Missouri, with no very definite ideas as to what he should do to begin the practice of his profesfiion. he wrote to Dr. Raymond, then one of the editors of the 'Engineering and Mining Journal', to enquire if the Journal would purchase his article on the Parkes process, for puWication. He met with a sympathetic response, some editorial suggestions as to improvements m the style of the paper, and a counter-proposal that if he did notactually need the money, he would find a larger audience and more professional credit by allowing it. publication without compensation in the then forthcoming volume oi Raymond's 'Mining Statistics', for which, as usual, there was a most inadequate Government appropriation To this proposal the young man readily consented. Soon after its pub- lication, Mr. Meyer decided to seek his fortune in the West, and natur- ally turned to Dr. RajTnond for advice as to where he should go, and how he should get in touch with the right kind of jHH.ple. He was furnished with a generous supply of letters of introduction, among others, one to Dr. Eisner of Denver, a welKknown figure at that time, and in charge of eft liKHiRAl'MK AL MKKTC'HKH thp U. H. AHHiiy-< >ffi< !• lit that place. On prcscntiiiK thin IfttiT of in- trwluctioii und ixplttimrin that hv wa8 in wari-h of ii jol>, )w wan at oiiim" a^kftl if li«' wa« any relation to tin Meyer who had written an article on the FarkcH i»roeen demonstrated, chose him as his own particular assistant, and afterward made him Deputy U. S. Commissioner of Mining Statistics. The wide acquaint- ance with the mineral resources of the United States that Mr. F^ilers gained at this jwriod undoubtedly had much to do with his subsequent successful career, and the literary training he acquired while working so ilosely with that kindly but unerring for .1... .volution of IIk' modern AinerirHr, pra.fi.-o of I,. , gmelt- H,. .„.v,.r forgot l.„w h,. had Imn-,, holpod i,. hin early Htrug l.s an.l "' paHs,.d on th.. .nofit to others. Hi.s plants won- not Hwe< -nkZ but ra.n.,.« n.hooU. H« M-lec-ted hin .tuff on th. principle ,„«, he h«n.hle.t ..mayor's a-HiHtant w»« in lino for promotion to mana^r a„d r^*? .*'!:"'''''• '•"^'"'^ ^- ««y"«""'» Karl Kilers. Paul Ben.n«.r rank M. Sm.th, Phil , ;. Monn.an, Howar.i F. Wierum, and olhTin unnfl.:'""' T"'J'" '"■■»'«"-"- ^-» thi. ...ntinuo..; chain of hH^ ul .nfluen«. wluoh started with Dr. Raymond, although all of uh Z Sit'. "" " '''■ ""^"""' '"''""'' '"^^'-" -' In h.y own .a^., the debt ia t.n, gn-at to calculat.. It runs baok ink., the vague nhadown of n.y earliest recolle-lions. w.th son.o of the roman^I of luH early oxper.en«.8 as soldier, travel.-,, an.l n.iner in the golden days o the 'Aest reflect<.- 1^- • . ' ^»i TT..**"' l"^^'^ '"■*' «°'"*^ *" '•*'♦ ""» «f*«''- " while and after a fash .on! What Oh, what a time we shall have, piece by piece, in we^Ltg th,.,,., .n vulgar fractions, as they come dribbling home' * '•I fc.r you engineers will have to stay behind for a while and clean L.; ' u7[ T'f " ^^''V"''^' *''"• •^^'^^^ f""" »he coast to the V h , '^ n/^V«wcop ,x,rfc.ctly .lean, and now has to l,e followed up w.th salvage harhnniy! " *^ <'Thi.^ i« a wi = :xnd deep Thanksgiving joy that we are having todav and we feel the presence-of our beloved a//-tho«e who are phy H^k: ab^ont, .n «„, 'ov..r there'. (Jod bk.s them and us, all gathid t^ got her under h,.s One Blessinfr'' K»i"treu lo- ' ■?ieiH'*^;:i-s'?3aEiBE >'CfaBlJ Hciiiiiiisceuct^s By C. W. r.OODALB My ttciiuaintauce witli Dr. Raymond Ix'gan in 1876, when I was I'liH'tod a member of the Institute, and attended the Philadelphia meet- ing, and the excursions to the coal mines and steel works of Pennsyl- vania. The Institute received a large addition to its membership in that year of the 'Centennial', 214 new names having been added to its list, making a total of 613. Some of Dr. Raymond's characteristics impressed me at that time: his cordiality and helpfulness to new members. This friendly spirit was an important factor in the growth of the Institute in its early years. The members who attended excursions of the Institute had opportuni- ties to become well acquainted with the Doctor in a more personal way. In the litigation connected with the Drumluinmon mine atMarys- ville, Montana, which began in 1889 and ended in 1909, it was my good fortune to be associated with Dr. Raymond as a witness for the Montana Mining Co., and during one of the trials in 1893, which required several weeks, the Doctor occupied his leisure hours in translating Posepny's paper on 'Ore Depohits'. In this, a.s well as in other incidents of his busy life, he confirmed the statement, "So true it is, that it is not time that is wanted by men, but resolution to turn it to the best advantage". After the first important trial in the above-mentioned Utigation be- tween the Montana Mining Co., Ltd., and the St. Louis Mining & Mill- ing Co., a suggestion was made by the management of the former com- pany to the latter, that a conference between engineers selected by both .sides might result in a compromisi'. Acting on this idea, the Montana company named Dr. Raymond, who was much pleased when he learned that Prof. William B. Potter, a former president of the Institute, had l)een selected to represent the St. Louis company. D)'. RajTuond arrived at Marysville in April 1894, and a few days later he learned indirectly that Prof. Potter was in town. Believing that Prof. Potter would want to look into the question first under the guidance of the St. Louis management. Dr. Raymond awaited notice from him that he was ready to take up the question. But no such notice was received, and it was soon known that Prof. Potter had left the town. In reply to a letter from Dr. Raymond, Prof. Potter stated that as Dr. Raymond had arrived first, it was up to him to make the first call, to which Dr. Raymond replied that he "was not aware that any .'» o'clock tea etiquette prevaile ailviMiatcs such ixTfommnces, is appt)int<'.l to !vn inifMirtivii' r.fficc hv the CJovcrnor, why nhouldn't all truly (tixMl-nnturpd poopl» sniilinnly iwk the (rt>v(!rnor what in the name of Opf-ra llouffp he means by itT" Oi' course, Penrose replied, and, in closing, evidently thought he >Md clinched the argument by saying: "Mr. Raymond can gM to ;" to which th:> Doctor replied: "ITie olega.it editorial in the 'Butte Mining Journal' eonrluH^ with the decl»ration that ' Mr. Raymond can go to — . ' This appears to he a kind t/ free pa»«. iwuMl l>y an agent of ths line. As Mr. Raymond has no me for it, Mr funnwc imd brtter keep it. The time may come when he will be glad of a blank tM'kt-t U> , anywh^-f* out of Butte, although for the preHent he does not ne*d nwh md, since, in hii> gr«>:t* character of Impartial Third Meml>er, he is entitled to travel aA the public cxpcn«f He also made use of the following scor efc i tin r woretn: "This is the 'episode' which was 'long ago settled', when I visited But ^o, a month later. 1 should be f;lad to know how it was settled. Were the actors in the outrage expelled from the Miners' Union, or otherwisr disciplined? Was the eleciion' of prisoners under duress declared invalid? Was Mr. Penrose in jail, or on bail? On the contrary, st) far as I could Iftam, netween employers and emplo -eeK' "Mr. Penrose may think, or prof««« in Inn iu iise-pa|HT lo think, that tlii--^ prepo.-*- terous appoint nient wttled' all epit-id**"' Tnond He was the pcr.-.onification of culture, of retainment, nr.d application Few men have pos,.es,sed so great and detailed knowledge of so many subjects, and yet few.r who had all of that knowledge at their immediatie ccanmand. As an illustration of Dr. Raymond's wonderful ability to present technical subjects to the non-technical mind, in not only a clear but also an attractive manner, I recall the meeting of the Institute at Troy, New York, ,n October 1883. I was the president; Troy was my home, and naturaUy I was anxious that the meeting should be a professional success but also that the Troyans should form a goo ought to have a presentation of some scientific subject m a popular and attractive manner. Dr. Raymond suggested that he would give a brief talk upon The Law of the Apex'. I admit that I felt skeptical, but 1 had all confidence in Dr. Raymond, and it 71 t« BIOORAPHICAL SHrTfHEK wan rto arranK^- K*- Rave ow (rf the most dplightfiiUr instruetive adtln'sw'a to which I have ever listeBwl, and. ueedlww to say, captured \tt*^ audi»'H<»'. With that aiispiciow *«tart, the Troy meeting wan a liiuMy wi»Te!4Hf«l on*'. Later Dr. Ilaymoiid cliilKtnited lii« siM>ecli into a carrfully prepared paper -hich is in the Trunsactions as having been prei«»'nt*id »t the Troy In Jaly 1905 it w >rtune to Ix- with the members of the In- stitute, Dr. liaymo, .ecretary, on tlieir visit to Alaska and the Klimdike, where we wci. .«e quests of the Dominion government. In July 190t», the Institute went to England and S otiand as the guests of the Iron and Steel Instittite; this lasting two weeks, L)eginning with a joint meeting with our hosts in London. After a week's rest, tliere followed a trip across the Channel to Dusseldorf, as the guests of the Association of German Iron & S.eel Manirfacturers. In October 1911, the Institute accepted an invitation from its Japanese members to visit that country; and we who went found ourselves practically the guests of the Japanese government. All four of those trips were most succe.ssful, and as it happened that I was at the,se times either the [jresident of the Institute, or delegated by the council to act as such, I was thrown into closer relations with Dr. Raymond during the visits than would have happened otherwi.se. Dr. Raymond not only commanded the respect of our host«, but also won their esteem. He never made an address that did not present matter for thought and displayed so intimate a knowledge of his subjects, and the national or local conditions b<'aring upon theni, that thereby greater weight was given to his suggestions and (onclusions. The Mikado de<'orated him, and som(> of his Japanese friends and admirers presented him with a valuable piinc of silver, illustrating Japanese art and skill. Those who have only known the In.stitute during these later years can fonu but an imperfect idea of the .^t mggl<>s and labors in' ident to its earlier life. While it has been successful from the day of its organization, it has l>eeix so only through the unselfish devotion of those who founded it ar«i their younger associates and successors. In my judgment, the Institute has accomplished a greater work m bringing into harmonious, and therefore mutually helpful relations, the mining and metallurgical interests of America than any other organization. It was the first to secure the hospitably open door to mine, mill, shop, and factory. For nearly 50 years the Institute was a large part of Dr. RajTnond's very life. He gave to it the l)e8t of his !>est, uiid from so iloing, it became the hM-der for him to transfer some of the burden to others, but the Ameri«-an Institute oi Mining Engineers (no imitter what may be its future naaie) will always 1m> Rossiter VVorthington Raymond's greatest nionumem . Reminiscences Bv Hbnby M. Howe Rossiter WorthinKton Raymond was extraordinarily brilliant wittv Hoquent, and versatile. With him you at once felt yoLel T^the p^' ^ce of an uncommon and most interesting intellect l^LveltT; •owld have made him shine in any calling. vematmty In stalling to write of him, the memory of the first time I s»w h.m at .i.s trwpfi aed fiear as yesterday. He anW Egleston were the striking figures of that gath«-ing each -^mg as a f..l to the other. Egleston's splendid and u^Uftrng enthu- ri, To Zr T'T^". ''^ ™"'"" ^""''^ '^ thLedluh all llV I ' "'^ '"^^ ''^^'•" th'^ Ponderousness of his thought and spj^ech a^amst which he struggled as a burden of the flesh He urged h.sth,>.^hts on an anvil which ever rang true, but with aTamme so unw eldy ^^ '^ enhance the effect of Ra.vmond's brilliant epigra^ his mas oHy shor, .uts of reasoning, his silvery eloquence his 'Sg t tuitions, and m«# of all his extraordinary mastery over langu^e It was th.s that gave him his eloquene, his charming Ityle, his wU^nd h ■ontrov.rs,al power. Perhaps he never shonemore brilliantly than when " STdt thlu" r 'u *'' "u 'l.""*"^' ''''' "^^ ^«"'^ ^«f-d a position so (hffi,,ult that h.. hardly would have adopted it on sol,er second th««ht Here he .showed lumself r»»e ma.ster of every device of eloquence and^t<^ nc, mclud,ng sophistries so adroit and so skilful as to ral our a^ir^," or our exasperation accordmg to our point of view. One of thC cTo^t and dearest to h.m is said to have exclaimed in despair, "T^7Jr.^ say so, Ros, the more it isn't so". ^^ But these were only the delightful prank.s of his exul*r«ru intellect u mt eliectual romps, for, in fact, he was e^entially moirt »«o« and 'i^: t^'raL^r: ""^"""''^ '''^''-' -' " '--' >•— ^- -^^ Shining as he did as an intellectual leader of our guild, he often «(i»ed to have Htrayed into it hy accident, to have pa,sserbv he , Im.T^^ ■mnKstry an.l the law, in whK.h his g.fts might' perhaps have b'^ll on greater d.st.nct.on. Hi.s religious activity at Plymouth ( "htS ^ on the same high plane with hi.s professional work, in which indeedlT excelled as a persuader and exhorter. So too, his devotion as hnsl,and, fatJu-r, and brother knew no bounds Greatly as he delighted in things intellectual, he was moved even mot 73 71 UIOGRAPUICAL HKHTrHEM by sympathy, affection, and sentiment, a man rather of the heart than of the head. Looking baek on this rare figure, who played so brilUant a part in our work, this leader, preaeher, writer, orator, stimulator, wit, contro- versialist, biographer, and lover, each of us may well say: "Take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again." ^^e>u;^^,-. A Tribute Uv Alfkkd K. -Bblumoer ' I have no deniro to attempt any complete picture of my grandfather • I want only to tdl you of the way he appealed il a youn« man My chief' He could talk, and talk well, on an endless variety of subjects His traLrrr 'f™'''' an inexhaustible mine of anecdoteCd ill" tration. He was forever producing some tale of his younger davs oui^e z::v::^ rl'^'z^r ':k ^-^ beyond'hisX:; Xr ame iZl n R u ''''; ^"'^J^'**" "^^''^ ^"«aK«d his attention. When I ^k forwari to r "^'.l ^ T^!"^ "' '""^««' °"« "^ '^^ ^^'^^ ^^ngs to Mn ri t h.T' t''^* r "'^u^ Grandfather's new mterest this time. U might be the Greek philosophers or the distribution of anima's the pected and something which he could make fascinating even though T knew nothing about it. After I had gone to the little Ln^Lroom he wouJd come m with a book and we would talk into the small halT^^ ome more virtuous memlK.r of the family put an end to theXussbn It was always rather discouraging to me that, after such a night S- H« l^^!''^ ^■"J"'" •"*' "'^' ^"''"'^' '° "''^^ ^''''' f"*- '"« interest in people was a great a., his mwrost in science or law or philosophy. HrgreateS virtue a. a companion of young men was that he never conLcendeH It never appeared to occur to him that we were not his Cr Hhe happened to d.H«,gr«. it was as he would with a man of his own age and never with any assumption that he must be right and we wrong Z^^ he was our senior. Those who appreciated bim most did not alwa^ agree with hmi by any means, but the disagreement never sto^ be lee^ wi h ki^JrrndsT ' '" ""'^ ^'''"^"^ ^' ^" '^-^^^ differen^Hf opinL" with his friends, however overpowering he might l,e in arguing the point gcne":ti:ri'd:;;Sh" " ^ r"^'^* "^'^^ the sins of The yoC g. neration. I dou.)t if he was much interested in sin; at least he was far too wise to try to repress when he could inspire. Jw7- 'T^' T"'"""'' ^^ "'•^' grandfather: filling the pulpit here or at Washington; drowsing over the chess-i^oard, long ago whT it" J ously learned to mate with a king and qiH^n; expour^ngT^e po^t^; mence among mining engineers; tyrannising ov^ ttTon^Tn Tt Uie dmner-table. But my best and ^iron^L.,nJliZ^\Z.^ hj. .« the supreme interpreter to a younger general*;a of Z l^i^^oJ 7i JAMES \i\D JIM: TWO BOYS A Stokv «)K thk Coal Mines Bv KoKHiTEH W. Raymond CHAHTKH t Mr. Makk Moklky wuh tlM>HU|K'rint<'ndent «>f two institutionH, the Khony coal mine, and thi> Sunday-wchool attondod by the children of the miners. In his capaeity a.s Sunday-ttch, sir, I have to learn it all here; and most of the others, they can learn afore they come". "Can you rcmd?" asked the sup*'rintendent : "haven't you got a l)ook?" "Oh, yes, sir! I can read", replied the boy; "and I've got a book, imt it air he ri^ht kind." Sonu !>; internipted the conversation here — somethinR is always interrupting a Sunday-school superintendent, you know— but the boy's words kept ringing in Mr. Morley'smind; and when ('hristmas came, not long afterward, and he had the pleasure of giving a prize for constant attendance and good l)ebavior to this very boy, he handed him a Testa ment, with the remark, "This is a book of the right kind, for a boy oi thv right kind". Moreover he made up his mind to inquire further al out that lK)y, and watch his progress carefully; but h«' never »rot beyond finding out that the l)oy was an orphan, whose father had Imvu ki'led by fall of rock in the mine. His name was James, and he seentcvl to be about fifteen years old. Soon after this, Mr. Morley became interested in another l)oy t.i about the same age, whom he found in a very different place. He also was an orphan; and if his name was not James, it came pretty near, for it 'vas Jim. But lK«for(> I tell y«m about Jim, I must give you some notion of the place where Mr. Morley found him. Sunday-sch(tol. 1 trust, is so familiar to you all, that you do not need a particular at co.iiit of that; but a coal mine may l)e a very different KOH8ITKR W. RAYMOND 7- So h,.r.. .s a loctur.. „u tho subjeH, .nado u« «hor( a. poHHible You know a tolosoopo h„s to .. drawn ou. a littlo if o„o i. fo^ anyth^,"; throuKh .t; and all yon .-an a«k of a story or,HpvKla«« is th^ IhonZ nght focuH ha« boon reach..!, tho . brought to the surface after it is LLe f^mTtl bed. Secondly, something must l>e done to keep the rock overhead Lm ailing on the coal, after it has been broken, and crushing ami bui^ n"T whatismore™ them, rhirdly, he water thatcollects intheminemust be got outTfTt or It wi 1 gradually fill up. Fourthly, the mine must be wntltei tha; s, supplied with good fresh air. This is more importan^fn ta Ini^L than anywhere^else m the world; although it is im^rtant eveiywZrr -even m Sunday-schools. I sometimes think that tf all SunlTlhool upenntendents were also, like Mr. Morley, managers of ^Ifrntes they would care more about ventilation; and I am sure thev wouTd know lH.tter how to go to work and get it. For there rnothfngTlJ makes people learn and remember like a great danger. If y^u k^^w ha unless you had your lesson perfectly you might be suddenly s^ruSTlead lit le ^-daehe, - f , ^^ere the les.son was. or lose your bo;' loulS you Well, that 18 the way they studv and pra-tise ventilation J.^ of hves. So you may well imagine that they try to get their lesson well ; 7S J\MKH \N» JIM ttud 1 think tliey tould touch aonie things to the very .nKt-nioun gentlemen who build IwclliiiKH tuid fhtircht^. But 1 must Ko bark a lilll<- j»«t t / hint to you how the othtr ticceMiiry thiiiKH I hav«' nainod air wcurod. For Kfttinn in and out of \Uo mine we 8«inu'timoH use long tunnels, U'ginning in valleys, and running into the hillH. But often it is neeeawary to make pits, or shafts' m they are called, like great vleep wells, going down at an angle into the ground with the coal, or straight down till they reach it. Then at different levels horizontal halls, called gangways, are cut out in the coal; and from these halls the workmen dig chambers, or 'breasts' as they are called, bringing the coal into the halls, loading it in cars, ;ind carrvinir it to the tunnel, where it is trundled out, or to the shaft, where it is lioisted out, to day- light, or, as the Cornish miners say, 'to grass'. 'Clo to grass!" is an expression which we sometimes hear Iwys use, when they mean to be very contemptuous; but if, after Iwing for hours in the darkness and dirt of a coal mine, you had ever come out at last to see once more the sunshine and blue sky, and the green earth, you would think 'going to gra-^-s' a thing not to l)e despised. If you imagine a big hotel, with a hall in the middle, having a long winding staircase and an elevator, and then on every story halls going away on either side, and bedrooms opening out of these, you will get some notion of the shaft, gangways, and breasts of a mine. Only in the Ebony coal mine, to which my story refers, the central hall, or shaft, was inclined; and consequently the bedrooms, or breasts, were tilted like state-rooms on an ocean-steamer in a storm. This was all the better: for, when the men loosened the coal up in the breasts, it rolled right down to the gangway of its own accord. In all the gangways there were rail- roads, and the cars full of coal were drawn by mules to the main shaft. Here thi-y were hoisted by means of u long stiu^l-vvire rope, wound up by a mighty steam-engine which was stationed in the shaft-house at the top. The mules lived down in the mine. They had a stable there, and seemed perfectly contented, though they saw no other light than the smoky niinei-s' lamps K*'ally they were quite comfortable. — no changes of weather, no changes of work; only one serious annoyance, namely, the rats, which would ge'. into their mangers after the corn, and, not satis- fied with stealing a part of their food, woidd bite their noses, to prevent them from eating altogether. But mules can bite, as well as rats; and, although the war went on, l)oth parties seemed to thrive. Nothing suffered seriously l)Ut the corn. The shaft, the gangways, and to some extent the bre-.i-. But when it had been rfiised half- way, It was delivered into an o'd tunnel that went out about a (juarter ,^f ROM8ITRR W. HAYMOND 79 n« eHHary, Huh old tunnol wan the mail ,,ntry to it; now it mu. um-d for nothing exft'pt to earry away water. wiMtuwuior I muHt t..|| yo„ a littl. more almut the ventilation, and then the lectur*. wdl Jk. done, an«ophers call carbonic acid. It is the fn thaJtnn"-. T '" T'^r*'"'' '"^' "^•''' '» '« ^'^ «-' ^« ^rLk m that fonn, ,t » not good to breathe. A little too much of it in the air wTnoT^ilrn in i^'"^'^' *"' " '"-' '''' ^"« "'"^*» ''^ ^^^'^ ^ Fire-damp, on the other han.l, is somewhat (though not exactly) like H. ga. we burn .n our houses. It takes fire ea«,ly; and when enough of .t gets mixed With ordmary air, it may explode, or 'blow up', just a^ ZnZmZ ""^ ;n'""^ ''"^ "'^" ^ «"«-^"'-"- ha; LL len open untd the room is full of it. After burning, or exploding, the fire- damp leaves behind another gas. called the 'choke-damp', which 1^ almost as bad. It will not burn, but it stifles people like the biack-iamp One thmg is very fortunate for the miner-fire-damp and choke- damp are lighter than common air; and so they float along th'op of the gangway, over his head, while black-damp is heavier than common air and lies along the bottom. So that, if there is not too much of them aTd they are not starred up and mixed together, there may still be a^^er of air fit to breathe m the middle of the gangway, though the gases aUhe t.p and bottom are poisonous. How would you like to crawl along a dark hall, knowmg that if you carried your head too high or too low yo^ might faint away, and never ' come to ' again ' ^ tho^n?* ^""^ "ir^r* ^^'"'' ***** '^''' '' '^' '"•''•"^'•>- «««t« oi things with he miner. On the contrary, a vast current of fresh air is conSan ly orced through the mine by engines and blower, to sweep it clear o?aS these noxious gases. It is only when by some accident to the machinery this current is stopped, or when by some sudden fall of coal or rXa quantity of the gas, imprisoned in the coal, much greater than can be immediately cleared away, rushes into the mine, thaTsuch terrTble firo^ explo.sion., etc as we read about become possible in any weCgulated by Mr. Morley. The pure air was drawn through the mine in a perfect breeze, by a huge revolving fan run by steam at the top; and ^ wel was everything arranged, that although in former times the Ebo^ 3 MICROCOPY RESOIUTION TEST CHART (ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 I.I 12.2 3.2 36 40 12.0 1.8 1.6 ^ APPLIED IM/1GE Inc ^^ 165J East Ma'n Street r-S Rochester, New York U609 USA -SS (716) 482 ~ 0300 - Phone :^ (716) 288 - 5989 - Taw 80 JAMES AND JIH had the reputation of being a very 'fiery' mine, and many men had been bailly Hinged or even killed by the little and great fires and explosions that had taken place the.-e, yet for several years before the time of our story there had not li(»en a single accident of that or any other kind. There was not even a safety-lamp, except the one which Mr. Morley or his foreman carried when they went exploring into some parts of the old workings where the fresh air could not so freely pass. A safety-lamp is a sort of lantern, so constructed that it will not immediately set fire, as u naked candle would do, to the fire-damp around it. But it gives a dim, dingy light, and the men don't like to use it; and they are only too likely, when they fancy there is no danger, to open the lantern, and get the light out, so as to see better. Mr. Morley used to say he would rather pour so much fresh air through the mine, that safety-lamps would not be necessary, than risk some great disaster from such carelessness m their use. One thing more, which brings us around very gracefully to our story. With all the apparatus and all the pains taken to n- ^ke a current of good air, it was not always possible, without special aid, to ventilate the breasts. These I have compared to bedrooms. Now, you know a bed- room, with the window shut tight, and only a hole over the door, will not be well ventilated. Some people appear not to know that, but I trust you are better informed. In the Ebony mine they connected their chambers, or breasts, as fast as they could by a sort of back entry as an air-passage; but while they were excavating or digging out a new breast, and before they had any rear connection for it, the air needed by the men had to be blown in to them. This was done by means of small revolving fans, looking somewhat like a patent churn, with a boy to turn the crank. As long as the men were at work in the breast, the boy turned that crank, and the fresh air was forced up to them from the gang- way through a tin pipe. They were out of sight; but they would soon know if the fan stopped, by the dim way in which their candles would burn, and by the feeling which the bad air would give them. One day Mr. Morley was passing along a gangway opposite a new breast. Even before he had reached the spot he had heard the whirring of the fan. But when he got near enough to see clearly he stopped short, gazed for a moment in wonder, and burst out laughing. The boy whose business it was to keep the fan going had contrived a very comical way of doing it. He had placed a piece of board so that he could lie on it, taking care to have the end for his head considerably higher than the other. At the lower end of this board stood the circular box containing the fan, and the crank-handle projected over the board. This arrangement being complete, the young inventor had tied one of his feet to the crank-handlo and then laid himself flat on his back on the board, in which position he was turning the crank luxuriously with his foot. His hat was perched on R088ITEB W. RAYMOKD f<| the front partof hin head, a« ladies' hat« are 8ometune« worn. In the front of th.8 hat wa« hooked, according to miners' fashion, his little t n la^p and by Us fbckering light he was reading a dime-novel. The boTriThe c^uw'L *'' ""' "T ''' ""'' "•^'^ '''"'-^"«^- I" fact, nc^hing twt which he showed when ho heard the superintendent laugh. ^ Hallo! said Mr. Morley, "who are you?" " Jim," repUed the boy, laying down his book, and putting his hands under his head a„d never stopping for an instant [he ste^adySn^^^^^^^^ oot and leg He paid no attention to that part of his body , and it s Jmi to go of .tself, as ,f .t were a machine with which he had kothiiTda That leg of yours will get bigger than the other", mi,] the Tuperin. tendent, " if you give it so much exercise." euperm- ■X^hange 'em once an hour," replied Jim. '• D'ye think I'm a fool?" Mr. Morley laughed again. Then he said more gravely, "I don't know about th«, my boy; it looks a little lazy. I'm afr J you forge the fan sometunes. That won't do, you know'' ^ the.^'''a;E''.'"rH'^- "^^ '"^"P*'J- "^y ^«« '« "P '" the b^ast there ask hun And his manner said, plainly enough, "If he is satis- wtmelnTlt^r'tr"- "^l' ^^^^^^ ^^^^ Sense whei^eno^ hlT ^ ij^ *'*"*^ *"""' "^ '^™ «"^' **»»* the head miner in the 1' S "^ . .u"" ^*° '^'**°*«' ^^ ^*« P'^d himself by the company according to the amount of coal they got out. And, moreovS the miners when afterwa- i questioned, declared that Jim iaveTeL more air and steadier than any boy they had ever hired « »««" more The superintendent determined to make friends with this grimy, smart boy; so he continued the converaation, saying first, " You are right tTe" If the men get air enough. I don't care whether they get it by Sg-pow7; or hand-power". Then he added quickly. "HowdoyoulikeyoiLXr The head of it's gone, and the tail of it's gone", replied Jim '-Ind I can't make nothin' out of the middle." F eu jim, and "What makes you read it, then?" ''Why, a fellow must read something, mustn't he?" Mr Morlev stood a moment, wondering what kind of book, not too dry, and yet no^ said. What do you do when you are not reading?" "Bats!" was the unexpected reply. "Want to see 'em? Well I expect you can't. They don't come out for company. But they'll come out jast enough when I whistle for 'em, if I'm alone. TW t old Abraham Lincoln behind you now" Mr. Moriey turned quickly, but Abraham Lincoln had vanished ■ Do you knov/ all the rats?" he a«ked in surprise vanisned. "Sixteen", said Jim. "Won't have any more. The 'sociation'. full. ^Notvittles enough to go round. When'any of the^t c^mTldl- 82 JAMBS AND JIM ing about, I hit 'era on the nose, and make 'em go away. Say, do you think sixteen rats, if I shut 'em inside, like a squirrel in a cage you know, could run that fan?" The supprintendj'Ht fairly roared at this idea. "Woll, well!" he exclnimod; "you'll be an engineer some day, if you keep on. That's the first use I over heard suggested for rats in a mine." "Oh, they're good for more'n that!" said Jim, sitting upright in his animation, but still churning away vigorously with his machine-leg. "Perhaps they couldn't turn the crank, but they know a heap of things. You ought to see Abraham Lincoln climb a post when he'iS afraid of the black-damp. You see, he's so Uttle, that if he staid down in the gangway the black-damp would drown him, sure. So he climbs a post. Tell you another thing. Them rats go out of the mine whenever they're o' mind to, and they don't go up the shaft, neither. I tried to make Abraham Lincoln tell me the way, — tied a string to his tail, and let him run, and followed him. No use; he just ran under a cross-tie, and there he staid till I was tired out waiting. But I'll get it out of him!" "Probably the rats use some of the old passages and air-ways", said Mr viorley carelessly. " You know they can go through places where the ground is so caved and crushed that a man couldn't pass." But Jim shook his head. "Abraham Lincoln won't go where it ain't safe for a man", said he positively. "He's too smart. But I'll have itout of him !" "I must be getting along now", said Mr. Morley. "I am sorry I can't stay longer." "So be I", replied Jim, "it eases my leg." " Wouldn't you like to have me bring you a book to read next time I come— a book that will tell you all about the machinery of the mine, and the black-damp and fire-damp and after-damp, and perhaps about the mine-rats too? Though I think you know more about th<;m now than any book can tell you". Jim's eyes shone out of his grimy face like lights in a very dark gang- way. "Is there books like that?" he said under his breath. Then, looking ruefully at his dirty hands and clothes, he added, "Spile it". " But I will give it to you; and you may spoil it and welcome, if you will only read it. Good-by". And the superintendent, much interested and amused by his new ac.aaintance, strode off along the gangway. Jim looked after him until his Ught was lost in the distance; then he picked up the fragmentary dime-novel, and tore it into small pieces. "I'll be an engineer some day", he muttered, "that's the very word he said. He was making fun, but I ain't !" .\nd with that he lay back on his board again, keeping up all the time the ceaseless revolutions of the fan, .md whistled for his rats. Abraham Lincoln was the first to appear. "< >ld fellow", said Jim, "whatever you know, you've got to t.ell me. Just make up your mind to that!" CHATTER II Mb. Morley had a number of copies of just such a book as he had described to Jun-a simple and interesting account of the operations of mining, made expressly for common miners to read, so that they might be better prepared to deal nith the difficulties and dangers of the business. 1 he very next day he put one in his pocket, and was fully repaid for his gift when he handed it to the boy, and aaw the eager delight with which kJZT'^ \. l^ u^'^^ "^** '' '^' "«^* ^"^ «^ book for the right kind of boy said he kindly; and as he said it he remembered that he had recently used the same words in presenting the prize Testament to that other boy, the bright James of the Sunday-school. Jim reminded him somehow of James too; though his manner was different, and his looks- well, there is no such thing as looks in a coal mine. Folks all look aUke there, they are so dirty. But Mr. Morley took occasion to say, " I wish you would come to our Sunday-school, Jim; you would find it very pleas- ant there. I gave a Testament only last Sunday to a boy of your size as a reward for his good behavior. Perhaps you might earn a Testa- ment too. Don t you think you could come?" Jim may have blushed, or looked embarrassed; nobody could have told, you know, on account of the coal-dirt on his face. At all events he hesitated a moment, and then replied, "I don't need no Testament"' 1 he superintendent was too wise to tease him, preferring rather to gain his confidence, and trusting that he would then be able to influence him Now his only reply was, "Nobody in the world can say that, Jim"' rhen he dropped the subject, and they had another long and queer talk, in which Mr. Morley thought he gained quite as much inforniati- n *L Tu* *° ^''^- ^°'' ^^ *^ ^ wonderfully observant, that although he was ignorant of many things which most people know, he had found out a great many things with which abnost nobody else was acquainted; and when he got a-going, he kept up his end of the conversa- tion uncommonly well. Not only that day, but many times after that, Mr. Morley stopped to chat with Jun, and was amazed at the way the boy learned and remembered all that was told him. The littJ 3 book about mining he knew before long by heart; and his shrewd questions and arguments about It showed that he had turned over and over in his mind every word W ihi, Tn/ ?!? ^'' :^«*y '' *° '^' f*"' keeping time with my leg this way: 'B/acft-damp is heavier than common air; /ire-damp and It T/I"'' '^^*'«'-;, t"^'^^ if you waul to yet good air, look in the mtddle of the ,o«ffway!' " The way he chanted this passage, emphasiz- 83 84 JAMES AND JIM ing the syHahles that inurkod tlic time, was vory ludierous. "Then", he added, "I talk it over with Abraham Lincohi!" So matters went on until Christmas came again. All through the year Jim hail defeated every attempt to get him to Sunday-school. But the day Iwfore Christmas, Mr. Morley said, "Now, Jim, you and I are such good friends that we ought to exchange presents. My gift to you is that I am going to promote you to better work and bettei nay, and a chance to learn something alwut mine-engineering. And your gift to me must be this: when the Sunday-school children come to my house tomorrow, you must come too. Tb-re's no work in the mine, you know." Jim was so overcome with the promise of promotion, that he could scarcely speak; but at last he managed to say that he would come; and the superintendent departed in high delight, to think that he had at last conquered the strange reluctance of the boy. " I. wonder what he will look like", he thought, "with his face washed!" But, alas! Mr. Morley was dooned to disappointment. In all the merry company that gathered at his house on C iristraas Day, he saw no Jim. James was there; oh, yes, of course! The superintendent was almost angry with James for being such a good boy, and coming so regularly, while that queer, eager, ambitious, interesting, dirty Jim could not be persuaded to come even once. Then he reproved himself for such injustice, and remembered that, although he had smiled on James, and shaken hands with him occasionally, he had never taken the pains he once meant to take to really get acquainted with him. Jim had proved so very fascinating that he had rather lost sight of James, par- ticularly as he never met him except at the school, where there were so many others also to claim his attention. So now he approached James to make amends; but Jim was in his mind, and his first remark was, "Do you know Jim?" "Which Jim?" said James, as though there were a great many Jims, and some of them were disreputable fellows. "Jim that runs the fan in the east gangway of the Ebony", replied Mr. Morley, adding, as he saw that James hesitated, "Perhaps you don't like him, but you would if you knew him better. He's very soci- able with his friends". "Rats", said James and continued with great deliberation and propriety of pronunciation, as if he were determined to impress his superior education upon Mr. Morley's mind. "No, sir: I do not think that I like him altogether." The superintendent turned away completely disgusted. "What a prig that boy is!" he said to himself. "He has been praised too much. I wish I bad him down m the mine a while. I would rub him well with coal-dust, and take a little of the Pharisee out of himl R088ITBR W. RAVHOXn 85 All that day there were no aigiu of Jim. But the next day, when Mr. Morley entered the east gangway he heard from afar the sound of the fan, and knew that Jim was at his post. Determined to show his displeasure at the broken promise, he walked by without stopping; but aU the satisfaction he got was in hearing an unmistakable chuckle from Jim. That vexed him still more; and he walked on, resolved not to turn back. But suddenly Jim called sharply to him .■— "Mr Morley! don't go into the workings at the end of the gangway!" . ..,1?.*"™ *' ^^"^ "* *»*•*« <^ *^»«1^- -^"n was evidently in earnest. " Why not?" he asked. "It ain't safe", returned Jim eagerly. "The rats all came out of there this mormng. There'U be a fall of coal before long, and maybo a rush of nre-damp. The superintendent stood a moment, thinking. "I must go there and see for myself", he said, "whether there is any danger. But I wil' get my safety-lamp, and then go around by the upper gangway and so down into the old works.-See here, young man, what did you mean by breaking your promise?" But Jim would give no answer, except, "Don't go in there, Mr. Morley! "Nonsense", said the superintendent. "I must do my duty. And when I come back I will make you tell me why you broke your promise." And with that he returned the way he came, ascended to the surface, prepared his safety-lamp, and descended once more into the mine. But he did not pass Jim's post. An hour elapsed, and all went on as usual. Jim lay on his board treading away at his fan; but he was restless and anxious, Ustening and watching. Several times he whistled for his rats, counted them, studied them, studied their manner, and peered about to see if any strangers were among them. But the last tune he sounded his call the rats were gone. Only faithful old Abraham Lincoln responded; and he appeared to be divided in mind between affection and the desire to fly "No you don't!" quoth Jim, and, seiang the venerable sage, popped him' into his pocket. *^*^ Then suddenly there came a terrible crash in the distance, as of faUmg rocks; and after it an explosion still more terrible; and after the explosion a rush of wind. The lights were blown out; and the men hurried in the darkness to the shaft. Quick! lest the choke^amp over- take us! In the shaft, fortunately, there wa^ pure air still descending. JIk w^^y '' ^^^^ '"""^^ ^ ***'' ^P' »"d gathered at last all saf. and thankful. But presently some one cried out, "Where k Mr. Morley?" They all looked at one another in consternation. The crowd of women that had been waibng, and then rejoicing, as their husbands and brothers and 8fi JAMBH AND JIM sons caiu(> up safe, now Ix-KAn to ni rti anew, wringinK their hands for the brave young engineer. There v rapid questions: "Who saw him last? Where did he go?" and, as it became clear to all that Mr. Morley was yet in the mine, the faces of all the men grew stern. There was no lack of volunteers. Even the women made no objections, but waited for the men to choose who should descend into the shadow of deiitt. Four of the best miners were swiftly chosen, and as many mo»^ pre- pared to follow them if necessary. Silently the party disappeared down the shaft, being lowered in a car by the engine. After a dreadful half-hour of suspense, the signal was given from below, and the car was hoisted again. Only the four men were in it. They had found the gangway crushed together so that they could not penetrate into the part of the mine wh • they might expect to discover Mr. Morloy. And the stifling after-d which the big fan on the surface was sucking out of the mine, told ^o too plainly that when they should find him he would be past help. But the boy Jim was here an hour ago. Where is he now? Long before even the first descent of the miners, Jim had disappeared. Run- ning with all his might down the hill, he reached the mouth of the old tunnel. The air was drawing inward. "Thank God!" cried Jim, and lifting his lamp pushed boldly into the silent, lonesome darkness, hurrying through mud and water, until he came to the place where the v/hole of the tunnel was filled by a great water-tank and dam built up to the very roof. "There must be some way around", he muttered in his perplexity. "The air gets through, and the rats — Ho!" he shouted with a sudden inspiration, as he jerked Abraham Lincoln out of the pocket where that old fellow had been comfortably snoozing through all the tumult, "Now I'll get it out of you!" He tied the rat's forefeet together, set him down, and watched his movements closely. Abraham hobbled back a few yards, and stopped at the foot of a post which he could not climb with his fettered feet. It bore the scratches of many a former scrambling rat. Jim looked up, and saw the dim opening of an old air-way. That was enough. With a wild hurrah he clambered up, and, crawling through a narrow passage, then a second and a third, found himself at last in the old workings near the scene of the explosion. He paused a moment to recall what he had learned of the dangerous gases among which he would have to move. The current of fresh air which had accompanied him so far was almost spent here. Ahead of him were probably masses of the deadly after-damp. Around his feet he could already notice a shimmer- ing reflection, as if from some kind of water, thinner than common water. " It is the black-damp", h«' said to himself; "I must move softly, and not stir it up. As for the fire-damp, I must take my chance of that. It was probably burnt up by the explosion. But I'll keep my head and my light low down. ^For if you want to get good air, look in the middle of the ^oTjgway'." KOSNITKK W. R 'MM) 87 The finest poetry that ever was written would not have been so hm forlorn hope. Once he called aloud, but heard no answer. The a.r wa3 growing worse; his lamp grew dimmer and dimmer. At last it went out; but, while the wick wa« still a glimmering coal, he flung the amp forward as far as he couJd, and by this means got a last glim,L of lUst al th!; I r'; ^"lu'T '''•^"^'^ * «'*'* *'"^^"'»= f«^ »>« had seen, just at that last instant, the form of the man he had come to save In another minute ho was at the spot, and felt in the darkness the face of the supenntendent He was not dead: he moved slightly. "Sitting up!" said Jmi admiringly. "That's just saved his life. He got all the Xi air there was!" But then- .^ no time to lose; for the good air wassca'e and not very good either. Jmi put the arms of the unconscious superin- hol b^T"? r^' ""^ '"'?^'°« ^'"^^'^' «° '^^' both theirVaces ba^t^h ^.k" .**"*,* P'"''^"' ^^y'' °' *•'' •^^"•'^d his burden pick-a- ack through the darkness, with a step as sure as if it were daylight. I would be a fool", thought he, "if I couldn't get out the way I got in'" It was not easy getting down to the tunnel; but the air was growing better and Jun s courage revived with it. As he lowered Mr. Morley in he soft muddy bottom of the tunnel, and followed after him, ho felt a fnendly „.bble at his leg. Abraham Lincoln had been clean forgotten hilf Ik "'^" '"^«f*Jo" ^K^in- old fellow!" said Jim, as he pocketed knoltgl" '" " """" *"" "^ "'•^* ^°" ''"«"' ^°^ '* ^^ worth Thus it came to pass, that, just as the group of despairing peoole at he mouth of the shaft received the report of their explorinrp^ty V saw a handkerchief waving away down at the foot of the hill (N B ^ was Mr Morley's handkerchief. Jim didn't cariy such an article -h^vTonn"? r*'''" • t"? 7^7 *^" ^''' ^*«^^ ••"°"«'« '•«*«hed the spot • hey found Jim, famted dead away across the unconscious body of the supenntendont, and a hoary old rat, with his front paws tied together sitting on Jmi, and contemplating the scene with much perplexity ' b range to say, Mr. Morley got well first. In a day or two he was about again, as strong as ever. But Jim had gone through ^omuc" exc. tement and exertion that the doctor kept him in bed for a long ti^e So t happened that Mr. Morley, whose fir«t walk out of doors w^to visit the boy who had so bravely and skilfully saved his life, foundlim at home and in bed^ On the coverlet before him lies the book which t^ ^ZTrtllfn.: ?"kTI*'' ''"' ^"' ^'^^^^y' -hat does thi JT\~ 1 Tostam,.„t which the superintendent of the feanday-school f?om .•;' r «'" •• "'"" "-''to'-hing ..till, there i« James smiling from the pillow bo Jmi was James, and James was Jim, all the tiTel I hope you'll forgive me. Mr. Morley". says he. " I began it in ^n f'H JAMKM AND JIM yuu sec, becaust! yuu didn't know me apart! But I never meant to keep it up so long — only at last I got afraid to tell you. And you know now why I said I didn't want no Testament — because I had one already!" "My two Christmas gifts have indeed rome back to me", Hays the superintendent. "Yes, sir", replies James. "If it hadn't been for both of 'em I couldn't have done it. You see, I learned out of this one just how to act, and all the reasons for it, and" — "And out of this one you learned?" asks the superintendent, putting his hand on the Testament. Jim stretches out his feeble arms, and throws them about Mark Morley's neck, and this is what he whispers : "'Greater love hath no man than this, that a mail lay down his life for Us friend!' " JOB ON MINING Bv H. W. Raymond viow Tf ^ K 7"*."*' P^--***?*' th« 8UKge«tion o,' a somewhat different used as a thread upon which separate poems are stnin* TKi- • 11 In Job these poems are often com petitivt— that m Fnh ,..^a fa Mnsidcrcd .imply . ' h7~rd t„ f,fl .' j ^'" I^" °" ^'"''»" Prom the Minin, ,„H Sci.Miflc p„„., ip,,, 7_ , joj '■ SB m 90 JOB ON MINING Koltl i«4'«ling to !)»• refined (»« tliHtinguiuhtil from 'fine gold' or plaeer gold, which neede«l no Mulwequent treatment), iron ore» and braun ores are won underground. The miner preiwe» to the very Jniundary of the d.-irkne^s, iind Metinh«'s, to that hmit, the roekM a«ilark uHdeatli. Dtmn aiul away from human alMMles he ninkH \un nhaft, in which, forgotti-n by the f«>«'t that paxH overhead, he wwingw «UH|M'n(h'«l. AJnive him, the earth proiluccH food; but >mdergroun«l, plougheti by fire, it ha« gems for grain, and gohl for cloils in the soil. His trail is invisible even to the keen- eyed birds of prey; nor has it ever lieen traveled by prowling Iieasts— even the liold lion, who goes fearlessly everywhere. 2. Surface mining (Descrilxul in the following thre<< verses).— Again, the miner attacks the hard ro<'k, overturning even the mountains by the roots, and cutting new channels, to lay bare the river-J»e«l8, in which his eye discovcrw every precious part iclo. He prevents the st reams from leaking, and he brings forth the hidden treasure. The rest of the poem declares ihat Wisdom can neither be won, as wealth is won by mining, nor even purchaseIow. ROMMITKR w. HAVMUND 91 From the ♦ nHlation given almvo it apiio&n- 2. That Kol.l Hilv.T. iron, an.l 'b' ..«• m-r,' ohtaiiwd m hi^ -lav hv nmunK. f..ll..w,Ml Uy n...tallurKi..al tn.a.mont--d„,.htl<^ a "m^h. «: Ju i^^ ti«n hy fuKion with rarlwn. mpii niim 3. ThM the relatively Huperior finenem, of placer roI,! wa« well known «nd eonHequently. that no 'refininK' of gold, an it occur- in natu« «J: Ioye-™' - -t « -ientific' percept on deduc*: tion or prevision, .t .n simply « natural superstition. Htrels il'"."^,'? "VT *''*^' ''T "^ '•^ '^ *" '"^"'^^ the diversion of sWv ver^ I, ' 1'^"""^' '°'" **•" P"'P°«^ «' '.ar-raining'. Pos- «.bly verse 11 may indicate the employment of colur^ams to lav bare Hmgle auriferous bars, without diverting the whole streT ThewhJe mg mimense labor upon the execution of crude methods. were recolil'n'' '^"k"' T"^ T'^7 ''^' °°* *° ^ ^^'^'^^'y id««tified. were recogmzed as objects of industry and commerc.^ and that their market value, as well as that of gold itself, was increas^ by the art?sUc work of lapidaries and jewelers. ^ Onhir Ind V?h- '°""""*'' '." '"f P'^"'"^" ^^'^ '"»«•' ^^inental, so that and prt" "'* *"" "'"^^^^ trade-mark., indicueing special quality 9. That rock-crystal (not, in ir.y judgm- ;. gla^s, though this rend- carved and then adorned with co.. , gold, etc. This is not evidence of sTmlT: ''"'':' ''*" ""'tallurgical art. Whatever could ll done |^ 8 mp^e patience and manual skill has been repeatedly done by primitive t„be«, ,g„orant of the principles of the mechanical arts; and many'lXte! rxperiments intl"" "*''"" '"^^^ ^" «^P'^ '"^^ ^-^^^ -' "-^ of Jeered rL.lM'' * ^**' *™""'»* "^ ""'"'''^y '«»d, therefor*, re- ected results. Numerous instances of ancient art, offered as proof that the earb^ peoples knew in some respects as much, and in oTher ^pect Tkn; ?; "*' 1""' "!*' ''^"" ""'^^^ *^« *-»• The modern art in3ves a knowledge of conditions .and mco"s, and consequent abiliVy lo ac! oomplish with certainty the end desired. I. other words, i^s S^ .on « measured, m inverse proportion, by the number of 'rejctiors'whc" 92 JOB ON MIMNG incurs in practice. Thus estimated, I ani convinced that the 'lost arts' of antiquity, concerning which so much has been rhetorically said, are not worth finding. l-'urther than I have goni in the aliove deductions, I do not think it safe to go. But another highly important question remains. What- ever may he fairly shown as to the existing state of mining and other arts by the twenty-eighth chapt<>r of the Book of Job, what is tlie historic |)eriod thus illustrated? Unquestionably, this book depicts a very ancient, patriarchal age. Yet it is almost equally certain that its theme, argument, and literary art lielong to a much later age. Without discussing the problem in detail, I may here observe that the most reasonable solution appears to leading scholars and critics to be that the drama was written .t least as late as 750 B.C., though it describes the social conditions of a much earlier period. Its high literary art and structure favor this hypothesis, which is, per se, l)y no means unreasonable. Historians and poets habitually describe scenes and characters of ages long before their own. Nobody dreams that Homer was a contemporary of Achilles or Ulysses, or that the Bible story of Abraham was written in Abraham's time. There is, therefore, no inherent improbability in the notion that the author of Job clothed his relatively modern didactic message in the drapery of a patriarchal age, long past. Such a literary artifice, however, cannot possess first-hand archaeologi- cal authority. We do not adduce 'The Idyls of the King' as direct evi- dence of the customs of the period of the Round Table. We can only accept such works as second-hand authorities, valuable in proportion to the learning and care exhibited by their authors. The best of them are not wholly free from anachronisms. Even Thackeray's 'Esmond' is said to contain one word not used at the time of which it gives an other- wise perfect picture. This test, applied to the Book of Job, reveals very few possible ana- chronisms — and most of these are doubtful. Its chief anachronism is international — namely, it places in the setting of a patriarchal age the discussion of problems which did not trouble the patriarchs; and it includes in this discussion conceptions and suggestions which belong to a much later and more couiplex state of society. But, aside from this pervading feature, it presents a wonderfully consistent and probable pic- ture, in which, with our present critical apparatus, we can find almost no flaws. Among these possible errors of the historical imagination, however, we must recognize the picture of mining, metallurgy, arts, and commerce, given in the twenty-eighth chapter. In most other respects, the age of Job seems to l)e conceived as older, even, than the age of Abraham ; and since we now know, through the code of Hammurabi, that in the ti.ne of ROS8ITKR W. RAYMOND 93 Abraham (Hay, 25()0 B.Cl.) there was a settled and e,«„plex system of industry rnd law, we cannot positively declare that the po^ ^ alof Job might not fairly present the features under consideration ^ Nevertheless (for reasons that cannot be fully stated here) these catures must Ih.. regarded as inconsistent, to some extent with the ^ tremely snnple, nomadic civilization otherwise set forth inVea^ulness" of detad, by the Book of Job. At all events, we cannot, ^ith^os t ^e ce ^BcTor ttt''"' "!: *"*'^"r '""^ *"-^ period 'earlier' than ;:;, whi» 1, . P'^""^ '^ '""P'y "^^^ «on»« picturesque detjdls to what we know already about the arts and commerce of the time of Sol^ mon, 250 years earher. Whether the author of 'Job' was, or was nT ZZ rnS;:',*'"^ '"^i^^f "^ ^"*° *•'« ^'^^ -ons'tructZ of a dMant antiqmty, he cannot be fairly regarded as the "f.,t writer" on LAWYERS AND EXPERTS ■ There was a man who hnd Krown uld In (Itftging prospect holes for gold. Uight often in bis pilgrimage He dreamed he had the long-sought ledge ; Yet every time, with spirit saddened, He was obHged to own he " haddened", And every time he cried, " You bet I'll hustle on and find her yet!" At last he struck it; staked a claim; Laid out a townsite round the same; Sunk, drifted, stoped and crushed away, And showed tha thing would surely pay. Fondly he thought that nevermore He would be luckless as before. Alas, his troubles were not ore! One dismal day his happy labor Wiis interrupted by a neighbor, Wlio cooily told him doubts had risen Whether the ledge was "his" or "his'n". And challenged him, without excuse. His legal "apex" to produce. "Apex! Wliat's that?" he cried in woe. "I cannot tell you", said his foe, "But 1 presume the lawyers know. And this much I can say is true : Without it, all is up with you; Nor is the apex all. You see, Y'ou must have ' continuity', And side and end lines, suited (|uite To fit your 'extralateral right'; And it is further understood A tunnel in the neighborhood Will make your title far from good. Then, other lodes may make connection, TakiuK the space of intersection, Or even unite with yours, and so Gobble whatever is below. Sure, many such things may combine To make your mine not yours, but mine. If you don't buy me, fear the worst!" ' Lines read in response (o the toast, 'Lawyers and Experts', at the banquet given to the American Institute of Mining Engineers, at Sa» Frjincisco, on September 27, ISIW. LAWYERS AND KXPBhTH That miner eloquently cureed, And said, "I'll see you— eltie where finit". Thus was begun the famous case That filled the journals of the place, And thither called a mighty host From all the wide Pacific coast— A dozen lawyers on a side. And eminent experts multiplied; Maps of the biggest and the best. And models till you couldn't rest; Samples of rock and vein formation, And assays showing "mineralizatioi.", .\nd theories of that or this, And revelations of 'genesis", And summings-up of sound and fury Poured out upon the judge and jury. No matter now which party lost — It took the mine to pay the cost; And all the famous fight who saw Beheld, with mingled pride and awe. What science breeds when crossed with law. 95