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tion to other lights, if any substitute would be better, and whatever else he may think important. The determination of the order and distinguishing characteristics of each light is made by the board, with a view to the entire navigation and total combination of lights along the particular coast. The sealights, especially, require to be so broadly distinguished from each other as to reduce to a minimum the chance of any one's being mistaken for another. This study had been sadly neglected, and, in order to make a good series of combinations, it has been and will be necessary to change the characteristics of many old lights.

Our lights are, for the first time, now duly classified as primary sea-coast lights, secondary sea-coast lights, lightvessels, and sound, bay, lake, river, and harbor lights. The primary sea-coast lights, though far the most important, were found in a wretchedly feeble and inadequate condition. Hence, special

efforts have been made, at once to improve them, and already they are approximating to their proper condition. Thus Cape Hatteras light, perhaps the most important one on our entire coast, was only ninety-five feet high, with a range of fourteen and a half miles, and so poorly lighted as not to be at all reliable. It has been renovated by Capt. Woodbury, is now 150 feet high, has a range of nineteen miles, fully clearing the outside shoals, has a first rate lens, and can be entirely relied on in clear weather. Lieut. Meade has built an iron pile structure at Sand Key, is engaged on another at Coffin's Patches, is building masonry towers at Jupiter Inlet and Absecum, and has renovated the Cape Henlopen tower and light. As other instances of important sea-coast lights, erected, renovated, or in hand, we may mention Great West Bay, L. I., Montauk, Gay Head, Boone Island, Petit Menan, and most of the Pacific coast lights. In 1852, only four lens lights were established on our coasts; on July 1st, 1854, there were sixty-six, besides many small lenses, and now, on our ocean coasts alone, there are 167. The amount of construction, renovation, repair, and modification, in our towers and illuminating apparatus, effected in a little over three years, is so remarkable, that it amounts to a quiet revolution. A lack of activity certainly cannot be charged

on the new organization. So numerous and wide-spread are these operations, that. we should despair of conveying, within reasonable limits, a more precise idea of their nature. Suffice it to say that in this period, the number of lights has advanced from 357 to 481; that our Pacific coast has now ten important lights in operation; that many longneglected points of danger have been reached, and that our coasts have been subjected to a much more rigorous study, relative to navigation and its aids, than ever before.

In various localities along our coast, where the erection of light-houses would be impossible, or very expensive, the exhibition of lights is of the first importance. A floating light is then the customary resort. Its cost of maintenance much exceeds that of a fixed light. It is constantly liable to break loose from its moorings. When most needed, it cannot give much elevation to the illuminating apparatus, and this is decidedly inferior in effective range to a fixed lens light. Hence, whenever it is possible to substitute a permanent lighthouse, either of masonry or on screw piles, such a change becomes very desirable, if not too costly. We now have fifty light-vessels, nineteen of the most prominent of which have been recently refitted with the most approved apparatus, whence much advantage is realized. Experiments have been made, and are still in progress on various fog signals, having for their purpose to ascertain which best serves to warn vessels of their locality when enveloped in fog. In this appeal from eye to ear, the airwhistle is found too hard on the horses, unless three take turns. The steamwhistle is most promising, but bells, gongs, and trumpets will still be useful in certain cases.

A well-managed system of beaconage and buoyage is scarcely less important than the light-system, to which they are adjuncts. Vessels, navigating channels, rivers, bays, and harbors, or amid rocks and shoals, are essentially dependent on beacons, buoys, etc., to indicate hidden dangers, and practicable channels. When permanent beacons or spindles can be placed without disproportionate expense, they are much to be preferred, because they are permanent, and are less exacting of repairs and replacements. In certain localities of prime importance, floating beacons are used;

and we now have nine bell-beacons, on which the rolling sea keeps the bells perpetually resounding. The service of cannon and spar buoys, to mark channels, shoals, rocks, etc., is one of very great extent, and involves the care, repair, painting, and replacing of many thousand buoys. In Narragansett bay, for instance, the beacons and buoys number no less than eighty-eight. The inspectors bestow special care on establishing buoys in their proper places, preparing accurate descriptive lists, directing the annual cleaning, painting, and repairs, replacing those removed by fraud, carelessness, ice, or gales, and in every way insuring their being always in place, and in order. Spar buoys are so much bored by the tereds, and made foul by sea-weed, that they are fast giving place to iron ones, which are more durable and conspicuous. In 1850, a law was passed, systematizing the coloring of buoys, so that everywhere in the United States a navigator with his eyes open can read their meaning at a glance. When you are passing up the coast, or are inward bound, the buoys to be passed on your starboard hand are painted red, and have even numbers; those on your larboard are black, with odd numbers; those which may be passed on either hand have red and black stripes, and channel-way buoys have alternate black and white perpendicular stripes. These rules greatly increase the utility of buoys, and their universal adoption would be a universal advantage.

Classic Rome thought it wise to be instructed, even by enemies. Commercial New York ought to esteem it a privilege to learn from friendly Liverpool how to buoy out harbor-channels, and how to conduct a life-boat service. We suppose that no better example of well-organized aids to navigation could be cited than that which has grown up under the auspices of the Liverpool Dock Company, chiefly through the able and judicious labors of its marine surveyor, Lieut. William Lord, R. N. Light-ships, buoys, etc., reveal to the nautical eye all the secrets of the Mersey and its approaches. Certainly no port is so fully entitled to the best possible system of buoyage as New York. The highways of commerce across its circumjacent waters should be SO plainly indicated, that he who runs may read the finger-posts, though half blind,

and very stupid. Liverpool is proof that this is entirely possible; and what Mr. Lord has done there is not too great a boon to ask for our chief harbor of foreign entry. The vast commerce of New York is, moreover, entitled, at the least, to a life-boat organization equal to that whose perpetual vigilance gives safety to the approaches of the Mersey. At different points of Liverpool bay and harbor are stationed nine life-boats, mounted on carriages, in convenient boat-houses, and provided with horses, to draw them promptly to the desired place of launching. A gun and distress flags are arranged to summon, when needed, the regularly-paid and well-trained crews of picked boatmen and fishermen, who have repeatedly manned, launched, and started their boats to the wreck in seventeen or eighteen minutes after the first distress signal. Now, why should such things be impossible on our own shores? We believe they are yet to be outdone on our inhospitable Jersey beaches. Space forbids us now to plead for an improved life-boat service; nor need we plead: for every heart, which could ever be touched, will at once respond to any call for the best possible system of carrying relief to the stranded.

In one important item, the Board has effected a much-needed reform. There had been much complaint, that old lights were changed, new lights established, light-ships removed, etc., without due notice being given to navigators. This misplaced taciturnity led to various mishaps-as, for instance, the Galaxy, of New York, was wrecked, with a loss of over $50,000, because the lighting of Barnegat light was only published in an Egg Harbor paper! Now these notices are issued a reasonable time beforehand, are sent to and posted in all our custom-houses, are sent to foreign ports and offices, and are extensively published in leading commercial papers. The light-house lists are kept thoroughly posted up, and have been much improved in other respects. We would, however, be glad to see the style of the French list adopted; and if it be not impracticable, we should rejoice to see a complete, universal list of light-houses published under the auspices of our Board. Light-houses belong to all nations, and why should not all light-house information be thus consolidated for the general good? Might not this lead to

maritime conferences, which would give more uniformity of system throughout the world, to the aids, usages, and practices of navigation?

There is one economy imposed on our establishment which we think is no longer commendable. A law of 1828 still limits the annual salaries of keepers to an average of $400. This no longer suffices to command the services of men really fitted for so responsible a trust. When we remember that keepers are mostly stationed on lonely ocean out-posts, subjected to inclemencies of weather, and often called upon to expose life in saving the wrecked, an increase of pay, proportionate to the depreciation of money since 1828, seems clearly their duc, and we cannot doubt that it would, in the end, prove a true economy to add at least $100 to the annual average. Inadequate compensation drives them to collateral and injurious modes of eking out a subsistence. Fishing, farming, keeping boarders, etc., by consuming time needed in the keeper's proper duties, are among the greatest enemies to a faithful keepership of lights; and we can scarcely vanquish them, or procure the needed grade of intelligence under our venerable, and hence inadequate, rate of pay. As our lights, unlike a large proportion of foreign ones, have but one keeper, the proper care of lighting apparatus, the police, cleaning, improvement and custody of the buildings and grounds require his full services. It is of little use freely to consume oil,. if the lenses, reflectors, and lanternpanes are soiled and smoked; if the lamps are out of adjustment, or badly trimmed; if the glass is frosted; if the revolving clock-work is not kept in order; or if the proper hours of lighting are not observed. The inspectors have a difficult and responsible task in ferreting out and correcting such neglects and abuses; in enforcing the economical but efficient use of supplies; in maintaining accountability, and in encouraging fidelity. They are entitled to the means for these ends, and chief among these is such a rate of pay as will secure the entire time of intelligent keepers. We hope, and we believe, that the atrocity of basing appointments and removals of keepers on political grounds is permanently corrected; and we feel sure that a detected unfaithful keeper would now be summarily and ignominiVOL. VII.-42

ously ejected, without the question of his orthodoxy once being mooted. The man who puts obstructions on a railroad is hardly more criminal than the keeper whose neglect of trust provides for and breeds shipwreck. It would be as impertinent for a keeper to plead politics in such a case, as for an indicted incendiary to urge right voting as an offset for his crime.

In conclusion, we will recapitulate the main points of light-house finance. In 1825, $84,036 were expended in light-house building operations, and $83,063 in maintaining 101 lights; in 1830, in building, $43,922, and in maintenance, $151,687 for 161 lights; in 1839, $260,412 in building, and $456,639 in maintaining 242 lights. In 1847, $501,250 were appropriated for building purposes. The amount expended in building light-houses, etc., in the year ending June 30, 1853, was $325,975, and for support and maintenance of lights, $615, 638. The same items, in the year ending June 30, 1854, were respectively $556,098, and $758,354, and, for the year ending June 30, 1855, $843,686, and $1,002,124 for 471 lights. We ought here to remark that the regular charge for maintenance of lights has, since 1852, been estimated for by applying the previous rate pro rata to the old and new lights, and that, from the amounts thus determined, enough has been saved to purchase the great number of new lenses of the three smaller orders since added. The proper expenses of maintenance are actually undergoing a rapid reduction, pro rata, counting all the lights, and the limit is by no means yet reached. With the growth of the establishment, the expenditures have necessarily increased at a rapid rate. The extensive operations of repair now going on, and the numerous new constructions, greatly increase the current aggregates, but are, in fact, mainly of the character of permanent investments. It is, undoubtedly, true economy to make all the light-house structures so durable as to stanch the ceaseless outlays for repairs. This demands large present expenditures. A considerable expenditure is now being incurred for lenses; but when the 511 lights, now authorized, are thus fitted, an annual saving, of $126,562, for oil alone, will be effected. Among the most costly constructions are those on the Pacific

coast, which our sudden commercial development in that region had made of primary importance.

The question naturally arises, whether our light-house establishment is to grow indefinitely in the cost of maintenance, by a perpetual addition of new lights? Its answer is unmistakably indicated by the nature of the case, and by European experience. For a considerable time, France and England have been adding, relatively, very few new lights, and they have nearly reached the limit of aids which navigation along their coasts can ever need. We are still far off from this result; for, along our immense extent of coast, commerce is rapidly penetrating inlets and harbors, hitherto unfrequented. Nature has obviously shaped us for the greatest commercial nation, and, with this preeminence, we must accept the incidental burdens. Should we no further enlarge our borders, an end to the new lights needed is a clearly apprehensible result. The older portions of our coast have already approached the limit of their needs, in number, though not in quality, of lights. The remainder are still in the course of construction, and many years must pass before our entire seaboard reaches the period of simple maintenance. By virtue of the measures now in progress, various items of the cost of maintenance are undergoing a permanent curtailment at the expense of enlarged current aggregates. Let us have all our lights once supplied with Fresnel lenses, and all our lightship illuminating apparatus properly renovated, and a great permanent reduction in the cost of illumination will follow. Let our towers and keepers' dwellings once be properly and durably built, and the immense outlay for repairs will ever after be curtailed. Let our light-house foundations and grounds once be properly arranged and protected, and we shall not have a new tinker's bill after every storm.

Till the entire material of the establishment is, once for all, in durable condition, we must expect maintenance to be a word suggestive of alarming amounts. Good constructions, the best apparatus, well-trained and faithful keepers, a rigid accountability, and the best possible general administration, while they are undeniably due to our immense commerce, are the only

certain retrenchers of maintenance expenses, and the only conjoiners of economy and efficiency.

In the fiscal year ending June 30, 1855, the U. S. revenue from customs was $53,025,794. In that year our imports were $261,468,520, and our exports were $275,156,846. Our total ocean tonnage, registered and licensed, is 5,212,001 tons. In the census of 1850, our domestic manufactures for the year were valued at $1,055,595,899, and our agricultural products at $956,924,640. At least one-half of these immense aggregates may fairly be presumed to have been transported past some of our lights, beacons, and buoys, either in the coasting-trade, on the lakes, or on our lighted rivers. If the

cost of a thorough system of aids to navigation should, at any time, seem to us a heavy burden, we need but look to these inconceivably grand movements of import, export, coasting, lake, river, and harbor commerce, all using these aids, fully to realize that even the pecuniary interests of navigation form much too vast a stake to be wisely ventured on any petty economies. An unsafe navigation can never be economy for us, and no amount, supposable in the case, is too much to pay for a policy of insurance on an annual commerce of fifteen hundred millions. As an argument for light-house efficiency, this consideration is overwhelming; but it affords no palliation for extravagance, reckless expenditure, or easy fiscal responsibility.

Our commerce, already so immense, appears to be only beginning; its future magnitude, who can conceive? To promote its security we have already erected more than twice as many lights as illuminate the shores of the British Islands, and near one-third as many as all other nations combined. What though we should soon outnumber the aggregate of all foreign shores, this would but be a token of our continued growth. Nearly four-fifths of our national income is now levied on imports across the seas, and, of this income, 'less than one-thirtieth, even in this period of general renovation and growth, is applied to the construction, support, and maintenance of aids to navigation. In the future, we see nothing to fear, and much to hope from our present enlarged policy.

THE WORLD OF NEW YORK.

SUMMER at last! And so-just as our city squares begin to look green and warm, and just as the sky begins to smile overhead, and the delicious atmosphere converts our daily business-walk into a pleasant promenade, and the sunlight makes our homes cheery all day, and the moonlight makes the streets romantic all night-off we must go, and leave the empty town to the million or so of people who remain after "everybody has departed."

What a thoroughly modern phenomenon it is, this practice of "emptying" the town! But a few years ago, you might have counted upon your fingers the families which habitually “went into the country," every summer, from any of our great cities. Real invalids used to toddle off to the Springs, or down to the sea-shore; adventurous young people made up parties to explore the Hudson, or visit the Falls; but the great multitude, and the most respectable and flourishing citizens of Boston and Philadelphia, New York and Baltimore, kept themselves as cool as they could in their city houses; darkening the windows by day, and wandering about in the moonlight by night, in search of ice-creams.

Now all this has been changed. The Baltimoreans follow their orioles northwards, or vanish in the direction of the watering-places which are said to exist in the interior of Maryland and the south of Pennsylvania. Saratoga and Newport, Sharon and Rockaway, grow familiar with the flat sound of the letter a, and with the subdued toilette which marks the perfect Philadelphian. Our own citizens, like the influences of their city, disperse themselves throughout the land; elbow the Bostonians in their own Nalant; outclimb the natives up the New Hampshire hills; criticise the fortifications of Quebec, and ride tournaments, with the chivalry, at the Virginia Springs. What comes of all this wandering, is a question most fit to be asked, but not very easily to be answered.

If the object of it all were health-health of mind as well as of body! But is it so? It is a good thing to escape the heat of the city; but then the city heats the spirit as well as the flesh-and it is the fever of the soul which makes the most and the worst victims and it is to be feared, that of the

hurrying thousands, whom the rushing, screaming trains, and the swift-gliding steamers, bear into all the recesses of the rural world, and all the nooks of the surfbeaten shore, a goodly number carry the winter's giant with them into the summer's retreat. Mere change of air is wholesome, no doubt, but that complex creature, man, does not live by air alone; he breathes a double atmosphere; and all the pure oxygen the Newport breezes bring, will hardly chase the weariness and weakness from his heart, if the human world about him teem still with the deadly azote of an artificial society. Monotony is the mother of all manner of mischiefs; but you cannot escape from monotony by a mere change of scenes, without a change of pursuits. The growth of the spirit is dependent upon the expansion of the mind's horizon. If the same people--a people of the same sort, the same interests, or analogous interestssurround a man in June, that surrounded him in January, it is of slight importance, comparatively, whether he stands under a gray sky or a blue, in the slush of the city streets, or on the sand of the shining beaches. It is because cobblers, in general, have not gone beyond their lasts, that a cobbler who does go beyond his last seems ridiculous. If all cobblers made a practice of going beyond their lasts, at convenient seasons, they would be better men, brighter talkers, and, probably, not the worse cobblers.

And, certainly, if the men and women of the world would avail themselves of the genial invitations of nature, who is "at home" in so many lovely places through the pleasant season now begun; if they would throw themselves somewhat out of their habitual associations, and see new faces, and think new thoughts, and aim at new objects, they would find life considerably more rich than we fancy it will seem to them at the end of another three months of monotonous excitements and familiar adventures. From which text, we shall preach a longer sermon at another day. Those who need the sermon, to be sure, need it most now, at the beginning of the season; but precisely for that reason, we know that they will not attend to it now. It is only the bitterly repent

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