The History and Practice of the Art of Photography

In Short

This book is a comprehensive 1849 technical manual for the nascent art of photography. Written to address the lack of detailed instruction available to American practitioners, it provides rigorous, step-by-step guidance on creating daguerreotypes on metallic plates and photogenic drawings on paper. It serves as both a historical record of the mechanical and chemical state of the craft and a "how-to" guide for the professional of its day, covering everything from the cleaning of silver plates to the proper lighting of a portrait subject.

The Story

The narrative begins with a clear mission: to fill a "void" in the existing literature. The author notes that while European works exist, they are often deficient in the minute, essential details required by a working artist. By contrast, the American approach to photography—characterized by superior apparatus and more practical, efficient methods—serves as the book’s primary focus. The text establishes itself as an instructional companion, intended to liberate the aspiring photographer from the expense and exclusivity of private lessons from "professors."

The arc of the book follows the physical process of image-making. It opens with the foundational theory of light, defining the properties of luminous, transparent, and opaque bodies, before moving into the chemistry of silver salts. The author treats the operating room as a sacred space, emphasizing cleanliness and the necessity of order, and then transitions into the specific, grueling physical labor of photography. We learn of the cleaning of silver plates using rottenstone and tripoli, the careful application of chemical vapors to create sensitivity, and the critical, intuitive timing required for exposure in the camera.

As the text progresses, it moves beyond the basic daguerreotype to explore the "Calotype" process and other experimental forms, such as the "Crayon" daguerreotype and even early attempts at instantaneous photography using galvanism. The author does not shy away from the frustrations of the craft—the failures caused by a "yellow, hazy atmosphere" or the annoying imperfections caused by dust—but frames these as challenges to be overcome by the diligent operator. The story of the medium, as presented here, is one of constant refinement. By the end of the text, the reader is introduced to the possibilities of coloring daguerreotypes, though the author candidly admits that current methods are less than perfect and expresses hope for future discovery. The work concludes with an extensive index and technical appendices, reinforcing its identity as a living tool for the practitioner. It does not offer a singular, climactic resolution, but rather provides a comprehensive system that the reader is encouraged to master, experiment with, and ultimately improve upon.

How It Unfolds

The foundations of light The author establishes the physical laws governing light, defining rays, beams, and pencils to provide a scientific bedrock for the photographer. This section grounds the reader in the behavior of light as it interacts with various media, from the atmosphere to the lens.

The professional environment The text turns to the practicalities of the studio, stressing the importance of cleanliness and the proper choice of location. It offers specific advice on architectural considerations, such as north-western light and the use of skylights, to ensure the best possible conditions for portraiture.

The chemistry of the plate A detailed sequence follows, covering the preparation of the silvered plate through polishing, iodizing, and sensitizing. The author provides exact instructions for chemical reactions, treating the plate as a canvas that must be perfectly prepared before it can capture an image.

The art of the exposure The narrative moves into the camera room, where the author discusses the handling of the sitter and the trial-and-error nature of timing an exposure. It emphasizes the need for an intuitive grasp of the environment and the subject’s comfort.

Innovations and variations The book concludes by detailing newer, more advanced methods, including the Crayon process and the use of galvanic currents for instantaneous results. These final sections highlight a spirit of experimentation, looking toward a future where the current limitations of the art are bypassed.

The People

The book is populated by the "young beginners" and professional "Daguerreotypists" who are the author’s primary audience. He addresses them as peers and students, constantly cautioning them against "slovenly" habits.

The author, Henry H. Snelling, serves as a guide and mediator. He is pragmatic and protective of American ingenuity, often critiquing European practitioners for inferior work and high patent costs. He acts as a bridge between the experimental scientists, such as Mr. Fox Talbot—whom he respects as a pioneer but criticizes for his restrictive patents—and the working American artist.

Professor Samuel F. B. Morse appears as a pivotal, esteemed figure who brought photography to the American public, specifically its application to portraiture. Mr. J. A. Whipple and M. A. Root are presented as innovators, responsible for the "Crayon" daguerreotype, a process that represents the pinnacle of the author’s interest in advancing the art form. Throughout, the "sitter" is a recurring, though passive, figure; the author frequently reminds the operator that the sitter’s comfort and natural expression depend entirely on the photographer’s skill, suggesting that the human element is as much a part of the chemistry as the iodine or mercury.

In Its Own Voice

The author highlights the necessity of absolute precision in the operating room to ensure high-quality results.

"A place for every thing, and every thing in its place, should be an absolute maxim with all artists."

He explains the specific difficulty that environmental conditions pose for the photographer when capturing a likeness.

"A yellow, hazy atmosphere, even when the light is very bright, will effectually prevent any good photographic result--and in the height of summer, with the most sensative process, it not unfrequently happens that the most annoying failures arise from this agency of a yellow medium."

He expresses his ongoing commitment to improving the aesthetic quality of the final product, specifically regarding the coloring of metal plates.

"The writer is confident that some compound or ingredient may yet be discovered which, when mixed with the colors, will give a more delicate, pleasing, and natural appearance to the picture than is derived from the present mode of laying them on, which in his estimation is more like plastering than coloring."

What It's Really About

The book is fundamentally an argument for the professionalization and democratization of an emerging technology. It seeks to demystify the "agency of light," moving photography from the realm of esoteric scientific experiment into a viable, systematic trade. Beneath the technical instructions lies a strong belief in the superiority of American experimentalism and the idea that photography is not merely a mechanical act, but an art form requiring both scientific rigor and aesthetic judgment. It asks how the physical, invisible forces of nature can be harnessed, refined, and controlled to serve human needs, whether for amusement, documentation, or profit.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of science or the evolution of visual media will find this book deeply rewarding. It provides an unfiltered, "boots-on-the-ground" perspective of the 1840s, capturing a moment when photography was a dangerous, chemistry-heavy, and physically demanding profession. It is not an easy read; the prose is dense with Victorian technical jargon and assumes a baseline knowledge of chemical terms that may challenge the modern reader.

However, the experience of reading it is remarkably tactile. You feel the grit of the rottenstone, the anxiety of the "slovenly" studio, and the genuine excitement of a writer witnessing the birth of a new way of seeing the world. What stays with the reader is the author's relentless pursuit of perfection—a reminder that early technology was a labor of love, requiring intense patience and a high tolerance for failure. For those who enjoy seeing the "how" behind the "what," or for anyone who appreciates the intersection of art and industry, this book is a rare, authentic look at the dawn of the photographic age. It is a document of its time, full of the prejudices, hopes, and immense technical curiosity of the nineteenth century.