To you, Mr. Typograph, our composing-rooms present nothing new, except, perhaps, in its vast number of job founts, due to the fact that we now mainly confine our work in this department to all kinds of jobbing; and yet in ten years we have set up in these rooms and stereotyped more than eight hundred considerable works,—most of them consisting of a single volume, but some of from two to twelve volumes each,—besides a multitude of smaller books, tracts, &c. Among the rest we may mention two Quarto Bibles, (one of them, now published by J. B. Lippincott & Co., the grandest ever got up in America,) Lippincott’s two great Gazetteers, Dr. Kane’s Explorations, The North American Sylva, Thiers’ Napoleon, and Macaulay’s England: Allibone’s magnificent Dictionary of Authors and Books among the number. After the pages have been set and carefully read, they are sent down to the casting-room. In the electrotype-room, every thing is as black as the brow of a coal-heaver: in the casting-room, all is as white as the neck of a belle. Take care, sir, or your coat will commit a larceny of our plaster. The form of type is laid on this stone, and nicely oiled: and then a mixture of plaster and water—doesn’t it look like a good wife’s buckwheat batter?—is poured over it, and gently rolled in. In a short time the plaster sets, and the mould is removed by screws as tenderly as a nurse handles a baby. It is then dried in this hot-tempered oven, and, after the moisture is all evaporated, it is laid in a pan and fastened tightly, as you see, and plunged into this terrible bath of a thousand pounds of molten type-metal. Phew! you exclaim, what warm work! Yes, sir; but from that fiery sea of lead soon emerges the pan, and its hissing heat is gradually overcome by the water in the trough into which the pan is lowered. Now, caster, break it out. There, Mr. Typograph, is the plate, fixed,—immovable,—stereotyped. The mould is ruined; but the plate is comparatively immortalized. It is rough yet, and, like an uncouth boy, needs polishing. [Illustration: STEREOTYPE CASTING-ROOM.] This next room is the finishing-room. Here the plates are carefully examined, picked, shaved, trimmed, and boxed, ready for the printer. Take a plate in your hand and examine it: it will bear inspection. You say it is far better than the untrimmed, uneven plates of English founders? We know that, sir; for we have often had to re-finish English plates imported by some publisher who imagined he could save a little by ordering a duplicate set of plates of a popular foreign book. A mistake, sir. Both in type-founding and in stereotyping the Americans have driven the foreigner from the field,—and in the only legitimate way, too: simply by surpassing him.