ed, as the great funeral pyre of patriotism blazed up to the heavens, and sent its long, red, lurid flashes far over the snows of Muscovy. In its light the pinnacles of the Kremlin shone like a Pharos of desolation; and the Tartars and the Cossacks, the dwellers by the Black Sea, and from the mountains of the Ural, saw the steel-clad legions and invincible warriors from the sunny vineyards of the Seine and the Rhone, driven back by the fury of one element to perish in the dreadful winding-sheets of another.

These enumerations might be extended, but we desist. Thus ever has it been with fire, when its progress has been unrestrained. It has consumed the noblest structures of human skill and industry, the costliest creations of every art, the proudest monuments of genius and invention, the richest acquisitions of commerce, the most valuable treasures of science and learning-the chief trophies of civilization and social progress in every department. The temple of Ephesus, burnt by Erostratus, to achieve an immortality of infamy, and the library of Alexandria, sacrificed by the malignant bigotry of Omar, are isolated instances from an extended series.

In all the earlier ages of the world, fire was a despot and a terror, notwithstanding its utility and beneficent services when kept under control. Man had not then acquired its masterdom, and it was viewed with awe and wonder, as well as religious veneration. A household familiar, it was yet regarded with fear and trembling, whether displaying its lambent beauty on the hearth, or sweeping with the whirlwind through the ignited forest; whether smiling in the trembling beauty of the evening star, or hurtling like the blazing arrows of battling divinities through the thunder fields of the heavens; whether shining-in the thought of Homer-upon the blue plain of midnight, like the multitudinous camp-fires of an innumerable army, or bursting up through the craters of volcanoes, those torches of the world! and whelming Herculaneums and Pompeiis in its path! Imagination lent terrors to the power which science had not learned fully to control, and man was in turn the votary, the victim, and the vassal of an element which often in an hour destroyed the accumulated productions of centuries.

It is only within modern times, and comparatively a very recent period, that all the beneficial employments of fire, and effective means of checking and quelling its devastating progress have been discovered. The world for the last fifty years, rests in greater security against this dangerous element than it ever did before. Science and systems of co-operation have given guaranties for the safety of property and life, which, had they existed in the periods of the past, would have spared the world from many of the destructive conflagrations I have alluded to, and have greatly contributed to the sum total of human wealth and prosperity. Not to enumerate the other achievements of science, the improvements made in the fire-engine and its apparatus, by Newsham, Rowntree, Braithwaite, Ericson and others, have erected barriers against the ravages of this element, which have greatly enhanced the security and consequent value of property, and diminished the danger of destruction to human life; and which are worth more than all the policies of all the insurance offices in the world. It does not belong to me now to designate

these improvements; let me but linger for a while upon a consideration of the means by which these inventions and discoveries are put into practical application.

Man's battles with the elements aided by all the achievements of science, are still severe and terrible. He can make the pinions of the wind waft his richly laden argosies across the bosom of the subjugated sea; but he sinks helpless as a child before the mighty onset of the hurricane and the sirocco. He has converted the rivers of the earth into channels of travel and commerce, and made them labor as operatives in manufactures and mechanics; but he is as weak as Canute to impede the progress of the inundation, or control the roused wrath of the ocean. He has hooped the earth around with bands of iron, along which the steam-horse and the locomotive palace-children born from the wedding of the discordant elements, fire and water-speed with the celerity of thought; but ever and anon some terrible casualty rends his strength asunder, and scatters his wealth and trophies, his torn and mangled members, in such bleeding and chaotic ruin, that not even the mother who bore him could recognize the child of her bosom. He has caught the wild lightnings of the heavens, and tamed them like carrier-pigeons to the conveyance and expression of his thought; but still the red arrows of the Titans, despite the inventions of a Franklin or a Morse, will cleave the lofty dome, and envelop his palaces and dwellings in a blaze. He has made fire a household slave, a lamp for his feet in darkness, a servant at the altars of his god, an efficient agent in every art and occupation, the illumination of his cities, the spirit of machinery! till the great Promethean spark vivifies all existence; but still, as we keep saying, his mightiest energies, his deepest science, his sternest courage, his most wakeful vigilance, are all requisite to check and guide, to conquer and control this wayward element. Individual effort is inadequate to the task, and thence the numerous associations such as yours, for the protection of life and property.

Society has devised no other adequate means for security against destruction and loss than those that are to be found in the bold hearts and stout arms of her sons, when uniting their strength, courage, and vigilance in a common cause. All the devices of law, or of mere commercial union, look only to reparation and relief after the injury has occurred. Insurance companies are instituted upon this principle. Though I would not depreciate their advantages, though I admit that the premiums paid for their policies are investments wisely made, yet if there were no other safeguard against the dangers of fire, one night's conflagration would prove the fallacy of relying upon the assurances of underwriters. In many instances these institutions have themselves been bankrupted, and their own capital perished, amid surrounding ruin, in the ravages of that element against which they vainly pretended to give protection. Acts of incorporation, and charters, and by-laws, and certificates, and not unfrequently the stock upon which they are issued, are but perishable paper, but "leather and prunella," which in a general devastation shrink away as parched, and wilted, and worthless, as any of the scrolls or parchments which were consumed in the palace of the Ptolemies. Who does not remember what happened but a few years ago, in the great fire in New

York! Streets crowded with all the proudest monuments of architecture were reduced to heaps of smouldering ashes; thousands were driven forth without a roof to shelter their heads; men of wealth were converted into paupers, and the incorporated bodies, Phoenixes, and Etnas, and Vesuviuses, were alike submerged in the smoking lava of ruin! These institutions, like all the other interests of the community, can find their only sure reliance in those precautionary fraternities whose principle and policy is to prevent rather than recompense to keep the man of property secure in his possessions, by guarding against and checking the first footsteps of danger.

Firemen are the sentinels of society. They are the self-constituted guardians of municipal repose. Theirs is no idle, holiday amusement. They assume the heaviest and most responsible duties. Little does the world reflect upon the qualities essential to a perfect fireman. He must be firm, prompt, and resolute; vigilant, faithful, and active; energetic, laborious, and untiring; chivalrous, public-spirited, and philanthropic. All these qualities belong to his character, and all these qualities have been displayed by this class of men. How often, when the hand of the incendiary has applied the torch to the dwelling of some unconscious inhabitant, who is calmly reposing in his stately edifice, with his wife and children around him, little dreaming of danger, has the rapid tolling of the distant bell, and the solitary cry of "FIRE!" rung out upon the midnight air! Then there is a sudden appareling of man, the rushing of swift runners from every part of the city; in a moment the rattling of the engines through the stony streets; the hoarse cry of the director! Soon they reach the spot of the conflagration; the malignant incendiary has done his work well; the flames are bursting out from a hundred points; the stately edifice is wrapped in a blaze; the adjacent buildings have caught like flax; the wind of the night is sweeping the waves of fire in every direction. All is confusion, hurry, and alarm. The fire. men come. The engines are wheeled around the blazing scene; the long hose is unwound, like huge serpents, through the streets; suddenly, by superhuman exertions, the engines are put in play; the broad, white, vollied water spouts upon and around the flames! how they hiss in the contact. The progress of ruin is stopped in this direction; that long line of stately buildings is saved from destruction. But away to the left, the flames make a more terrible struggle. They have found a fuel that yields like tinder to their embraces. In vain are the exertions to extinguish the flames here. The effort must now be made to rescue property and life. Where now is that sleeping father and his family? Some have escaped, but others are missing; some fair child, or maiden in her virgin beauty, is environed in the smoke and flames of the upper stories of the building. "Make way! make way!" is cried through the crowd, and the long ladder is brought and placed against the window. One gallant form rushes up the rounds, and dashes into the blazing edifice. He is lost to the sight! The streams of water play in to protect his way; but the crumbling wall reels and totters, and is about to fall. Great God! shall he perish in the ruin? No! He reappears with the form of the lost one in his arms; he leaps upon

Ah!

the ladder, and descends amid the long, loud shout that hails his safety and his triumph!

:

Is this but a picture of fancy-the coruscations of an inflamed imagination? No such scenes have occurred a thousand times in the annals of our cities, and they show the courage, the chivalry, the heroism of our firemen. All honor, then, to the brave sentinels and soldiers of peace!

But there are other properties of character in the fireman, which, if less striking and brilliant, are equally honorable and praiseworthy. The disinterested benevolence, the unselfish devotion, the philanthropic purposes, looking to no recompense but a consciousness of well-performed services, which are the parents of all such associations as this, and among the highest characteristics of human nature, and which, when widely developed among a people, are the surest reliance, the richest property of a nation. Rightly did I hear an eloquent orator say in Congress, that if we had no other standing army, our country would be safe in her firemen-her sword in war, as they are her shield in peace.

NOTE BY THE EDITOR.-GREAT FIRES.

The above paper, contributed by our eloquent friend, cannot be considered altogether out of place in the Review. A glowing fancy has painted, in strongest colors, the terrors of the devastating element which sweeps away our cities at a breath, and involves in ruin great communities. Are not fires and firemen subjects of practical interest enough, to secure them a place among the other agencies which control our lives and fortunes?

In every city in the Union, the FIRE DEPARTMENT has come to be of leading importance, and comprises the most active, energetic, and valuable citizens. They are a surety to our property and our lives the watchmen who snuff the first approaches of danger.

had

It is true that their institution is of modern date. Other ages little of the kind. The conflagration raged at will, and mocked the undisciplined efforts of mere crowds, awing them into blind dismay or stupid resignation!

The FIRE or forcing ENGINE is ascribed to the inventive genius of Ptolemy Philadelphus. It is supposed the Romans were acquainted with some such invention, for the letter of Pliny to Trajan complains that Nicomedia was destroyed by a neglect in using it. The ancients, however, must have made little use of the engine, since it is ascribed as the independent invention of a German. In 1518, it was used in Augsburg, Germany. Engines began to be built in 1657 extensively by Hantsch, and were introduced into Paris, 1699. These were very rude, and it was long after that the air chamber was appended. Small engines of this construction weighing sixteen pounds, and carried by one man, threw a jet of water thirty feet, and this was the model! The hose was invented by two Dutchmen at Amsterdam, and it is said that before its introduction the city lost 1,024,130 florins in ten years, and afterward but 18,355 florins in. five years, by fire. Mr. Perkins added the rivets, instead of seams. Of the subsequent improvement in the engine, the text has sufficiently spoken.

It would be a very interesting paper that traced the history of great fires in our own and foreign countries. What extraordinary statistics of ruin, death, misery, and devastation! Our friend has referred to several instances, but what are they? The frightful losses that have thus been sustained, who can chronicle?

Professor Olmstead, of Yale College, we have learned, has collected together many interesting materials upon this head, in the design, perhaps, of contributing a volume to the press. The facts and inferences may have much practical value. We regret our inability to communicate with the Professor, who might have furnished some interesting hints for our note.

It would not be difficult to determine with some degree of accuracy the annual losses which are sustained in the United States by fires, and the whole expenses of the Fire Department. In many of the cities records are kept. The books of Insurance Companies will show how much they are called upon to pay, and some estimate may be made of the ratio of insured and uninsured. Statistics of this sort would be of great value to our Insurance Companies, and we marvel that some one has not collected and arranged them in a permanent form.

Having fallen into something like this train of thought, it occurred to us that an hour or two might be spent, not unprofitably, in calling to mind some of these noted catastrophes which have befallen mankind. Of course it would require volumes to go back very far.

The great fire of London comes in first, and has furnished Mr. Ainsworth the groundwork of an interesting romance. Much of mystery hangs over it. Houses, towers, palaces, and temples were reduced to ashes at a blast. Two-thirds of the capital of Europe lay smouldering! 200,000 inhabitants fled to the fields to make their beds or collect their scattered and miserable rags!

However, we must be satisfied with a glance at the losses of the past fifteen or twenty years, for these are more within memory. They show that even yet, with all our art and science, the despot reign of fire has not been checked, but mocks and baffles the impotent efforts of man.

In the memory of almost every reader, are many terrible conflagrations. We shall introduce some of the more notable of those which have occurred since 1833 in our own country and abroad, taking no notice of the thousands of minor losses.

In 1833, two tremendous and unparalleled fires swept over Constantinople within a week of each other, destroying, the one 2,500, and the other 850 houses!

In 1835, a great fire destroyed 50 or 60 houses in Charleston, S.C., and the famous OLD CHURCH OF ST. PHILIP, consecrated by so many memories of olden time.

In 1835, 15th December, the memorable 15th-a little spark performed its mission, and FIFTY-TWO ACRES, closely and compactly built, of GREAT AND TOWERING HOUSES and stores were swept away in NEW YORK-648 buildings! Who will forget the dismay and ruin-EIGHTEEN MILLIONS OF DOLLARS in a few hours the earn