SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN SUPPLEMENT NO. 344

NEW YORK, August 5, 1882

Scientific American Supplement. Vol. XIV, No. 344.

Scientific American established 1845

Scientific American Supplement, $5 a year.

Scientific American and Supplement, $7 a year.

METAMORPHOSIS OF THE DEER’S ANTLERS.

Every year in March the deer loses its antlers, and fresh ones
immediately begin to grow, which exceed in size those that have
just been lost. Few persons probably have been able to watch and
observe the habits of the animal after it has lost its antlers. It
will, therefore, be of interest to examine the accompanying
drawings, by Mr. L. Beckmann, one of them showing a deer while
shedding its antlers, and the other as the animal appears after
losing them. In the first illustration the animal has just lost one
of its antlers, and fright and pain cause it to throw its head
upward and become disturbed and uneasy. The remaining antler draws
down one side of the head and is very inconvenient for the animal.
The remaining antler becomes soon detached from its base, and the
deer turns–as if ashamed of having lost its ornament and
weapon–lowers its head, and sorrowfully moves to the adjoining
thicket, where it hides. A friend once observed a deer losing its
antlers, but the circumstances were somewhat different. The animal
was jumping over a ditch, and as soon as it touched the further
bank it jumped high in the air, arched its back, bent its head to
one side in the manner of an animal that has been wounded, and then
sadly approached the nearest thicket, in the same manner as the
artist has represented in the accompanying picture. Both antlers
dropped off and fell into the ditch.

METAMORPHOSIS OF DEER’S ANTLERS.–FIRST STAGE.

Strong antlers are generally found together, but weak ones are
lost at intervals of two or three days. A few days after this loss
the stumps upon which the antlers rested are covered with a skin,
which grows upward very rapidly, and under which the fresh antlers
are formed, so that by the end of July the bucks have new and
strong antlers, from which they remove the fine hairy covering by
rubbing them against young trees. It is peculiar that the huntsman,
who knows everything in regard to deer, and has seventy-two signs
by which he can tell whether a male or female deer passes through
the woods, does not know at what age the deer gets its first
antlers and how the antlers indicate the age of the animal. Prof.
Altum, in Eberswalde, has given some valuable information in regard
to the relation between the age of the deer and the forms of their
antlers, but in some respects he has not expressed himself very
clearly, and I think that my observations given in addition to his
may be of importance. When the animal is a year old–that is, in
June–the burrs of the antlers begin to form, and in July the
animal has two protuberances of the size of walnuts, from which the
first branches of the antlers rise; these branches having the
length of a finger only, or being even shorter, as shown at 1, in
diagram, on p. 5481. After the second year more branches are
formed, which are considerably longer and much rougher at the lower
ends than the first. The third pair of antlers is different from
its predecessors, inasmuch as it has “roses,” that is, annular
ridges around the bases of the horn, which latter are now bent in
the shape of a crescent. Either the antler has a single branch
(Fig. 3, a), or besides the point it has another short end,
which is a most rare shape, and is known as a “fork” (Fig. 3,
b), or it has two forks (Fig. 3, c). In the following
year the antlers take the form shown in Fig. 4, and then follows
the antler shown in Fig. 5, a, which generally has “forks”
in place of points, and is known as forked antler in
contradistinction to the point antler shown in Fig. 5, b,
which retains the shape of the antler, Fig. 4, but has additional
or intermediate prongs or branches. The huntsmen designate the
antlers by the number of ends or points on the two antlers. For
instance, Fig. 4 is a six-ender; Fig. 5 shows an eight-ender, etc.;
and antlers have been known to have as many as twenty-two ends. If
the two antlers do not have the same number of ends the number of
ends on the larger antler is multiplied by two and the word “odd”
is placed before the word designating the number of ends. For
instance, if one antler has three ends and the other four, the
antler would be termed an “odd” eight-ender. The sixth antler shown
in Fig. 6 is a ten-ender, and appears in two different forms,
either with a fork at the upper end, as shown in Fig. 6, a,
or with a crown, as shown in Fig. 6, b. In Fig. 7 an antler
is shown which the animal carries from its seventh year until the
month of March of its eighth year. From that time on the crowns
only increase and change. The increase in the number of points is
not always as regular as I have described it, for in years when
food is scarce and poor the antlers are weak and small, and when
food is plentiful and rich the antlers grow exceedingly large, and
sometimes skip an entire year’s growth.–Karl Brandt, in
Leipziger lllustrirte Zeitung.

METAMORPHOSIS OF DEER’S ANTLERS.–SECOND STAGE.

MONKEYS.

By ALFRED R. WALLACE.

If the skeleton of an orang-outang and a chimpanzee be compared
with that of a man, there will be found to be the most wonderful
resemblance, together with a very marked diversity. Bone for bone,
throughout the whole structure, will be found to agree in general
form, position, and function, the only absolute differences being
that the orang has nine wrist bones, whereas man and the chimpanzee
have but eight; and the chimpanzee has thirteen pairs of ribs,
whereas the orang, like man, has but twelve. With these two
exceptions, the differences are those of shape, proportion, and
direction only, though the resulting differences in the external
form and motions are very considerable. The greatest of these are,
that the feet of the anthropoid or man-like apes, as well as those
of all monkeys, are formed like hands, with large opposable thumbs
fitted to grasp the branches of trees, but unsuitable for erect
walking, while the hands have weak, small thumbs, but very long and
powerful fingers, forming a hook, rather than a hand, adapted for
climbing up trees and suspending the whole weight from horizontal
branches. The almost complete identity of the skeleton, however,
and the close similarity of the muscles and of all the internal
organs, have produced that striking and ludicrous resemblance to
man, which every one recognizes in these higher apes, and, in a
less degree, in the whole monkey tribe; the face and features, the
motions, attitudes, and gestures being often a strange caricature
of humanity. Let us, then, examine a little more closely in what
the resemblance consists, and how far, and to what extent, these
animals really differ from us.

Besides the face, which is often wonderfully human–although the
absence of any protuberant nose gives it often a curiously
infantile aspect, monkeys, and especially apes, resemble us most
closely in the hand and arm. The hand has well-formed fingers, with
nails, and the skin of the palm is lined and furrowed like our own.
The thumb is, however, smaller and weaker than ours, and is not so
much used in taking hold of anything. The monkey’s hand is,
therefore, not so well adapted as that of man for a variety of
purposes, and cannot be applied with such precision in holding
small objects, while it is unsuitable for performing delicate
operations, such as tying a knot or writing with a pen. A monkey
does not take hold of a nut with its forefinger and thumb, as we
do, but grasps it between the fingers and the palm in a clumsy way,
just as a baby does before it has acquired the proper use of its
hand. Two groups of monkeys–one in Africa and one in South
America–have no thumbs on their hands, and yet they do not seem to
be in any respect inferior to other kinds which possess it. In most
of the American monkeys the thumb bends in the same direction as
the fingers, and in none is it so perfectly opposed to the fingers
as our thumbs are; and all these circumstances show that the hand
of the monkey is, both structurally and functionally, a very
different and very inferior organ to that of man, since it is not
applied to similar purposes, nor is it capable of being so
applied.

When we look at the feet of monkeys we find a still greater
difference, for these have much larger and more opposable thumbs,
and are therefore more like our hands; and this is the case with
all monkeys, so that even those which have no thumbs on their
hands, or have them small and weak and parallel to the fingers,
have always large and well-formed thumbs on their feet. It was on
account of this peculiarity that the great French naturalist Cuvier
named the whole group of monkeys Quadrumana, or four-handed
animals, because, besides the two hands on their fore-limbs, they
have also two hands in place of feet on their hind-limbs. Modern
naturalists have given up the use of this term, because they say
that the hind extremities of all monkeys are really feet, only
these feet are shaped like hands; but this is a point of anatomy,
or rather of nomenclature, which we need not here discuss.

Let us, however, before going further, inquire into the purpose
and use of this peculiarity, and we shall then see that it is
simply an adaptation to the mode of life of the animals which
possess it. Monkeys, as a rule, live in trees, and are especially
abundant in the great tropical forests. They feed chiefly upon
fruits, and occasionally eat insects and birds’-eggs, as well as
young birds, all of which they find in the trees; and, as they have
no occasion to come down to the ground, they travel from tree to
tree by jumping or swinging, and thus pass the greater part of
their lives entirely among the leafy branches of lofty trees. For
such a mode of existence, they require to be able to move with
perfect ease upon large or small branches, and to climb up rapidly
from one bough to another. As they use their hands for gathering
fruit and catching insects or birds, they require some means of
holding on with their feet, otherwise they would be liable to
continual falls, and they are able to do this by means of their
long finger-like toes and large opposable thumbs, which grasp a
branch almost as securely as a bird grasps its perch. The true
hands, on the contrary, are used chiefly to climb with, and to
swing the whole weight of the body from one branch or one tree to
another, and for this purpose the fingers are very long and strong,
and in many species they are further strengthened by being
partially joined together, as if the skin of our fingers grew
together as far as the knuckles. This shows that the separate
action of the fingers, which is so important to us, is little
required by monkeys, whose hand is really an organ for climbing and
seizing food, while their foot is required to support them firmly
in any position on the branches of trees, and for this purpose it
has become modified into a large and powerful grasping hand.

Another striking difference between monkeys and men is that the
former never walk with ease in an erect posture, but always use
their arms in climbing or in walking on all-fours like most
quadrupeds. The monkeys that we see in the streets dressed up and
walking erect, only do so after much drilling and teaching, just as
dogs may be taught to walk in the same way; and the posture is
almost as unnatural to the one animal as it is to the other. The
largest and most man-like of the apes–the gorilla, chimpanzee, and
orang-outang–also walk usually on all-fours; but in these the arms
are so long and the legs so short that the body appears half erect
when walking; and they have the habit of resting on the knuckles of
the hands, not on the palms like the smaller monkeys, whose arms
and legs are more nearly of an equal length, which tends still
further to give them a semi-erect position. Still they are never
known to walk of their own accord on their hind legs only, though
they can do so for short distances, and the story of their using a
stick and walking erect by its help in the wild state is not true.
Monkeys, then, are both four-handed and four-footed beasts; they
possess four hands formed very much like our hands, and capable of
picking up or holding any small object in the same manner; but they
are also four-footed, because they use all four limbs for the
purpose of walking, running, or climbing; and, being adapted to
this double purpose, the hands want the delicacy of touch and the
freedom as well as the precision of movement which ours possess.
Man alone is so constructed that he walks erect with perfect ease,
and has his hands free for any use to which he wishes to apply
them; and this is the great and essential bodily distinction
between monkeys and men.

We will now give some account of the different kinds of monkeys
and the countries they inhabit.

THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF MONKEYS AND THE COUNTRIES THEY
INHABIT.

Monkeys are usually divided into three kinds–apes, monkeys, and
baboons; but these do not include the American monkeys, which are
really more different from all those of the Old World than any of
the latter are from each other. Naturalists, therefore, divide the
whole monkey-tribe into two great families, inhabiting the Old and
the New World respectively; and, if we learn to remember the kind
of differences by which these several groups are distinguished, we
shall be able to understand something of the classification of
animals, and the difference between important and unimportant
characters.

Taking first the Old World groups, they may be thus defined:
apes have no tails; monkeys have tails, which are usually long;
while baboons have short tails, and their faces, instead of being
round and with a man-like expression as in apes and monkeys, are
long and more dog-like. These differences are, however, by no means
constant, and it is often difficult to tell whether an animal
should be classed as an ape, a monkey, or a baboon. The Gibraltar
ape, for example, though it has no tail, is really a monkey,
because it has callosities, or hard pads of bare skin on which it
sits, and cheek pouches in which it can stow away food; the latter
character being always absent in the true apes, while both are
present in most monkeys and baboons. All these animals, however,
from the largest ape to the smallest monkey, have the same number
of teeth as we have, and they are arranged in a similar manner,
although the tusks or canine teeth of the males are often large,
like those of a dog.

The American monkeys, on the other hand, with the exception of
the marmosets, have four additional grinding teeth (one in each jaw
on either side), and none of them have callosities, or cheek
pouches. They never have prominent snouts like the baboons; their
nostrils are placed wide apart and open sideways on the face; the
tail, though sometimes short, is never quite absent; and the thumb
bends the same way as the fingers, is generally very short and
weak, and is often quite wanting. We thus see that these American
monkeys differ in a great number of characters from those of the
Eastern hemisphere; and they have this further peculiarity, that
many of them have prehensile or grasping tails, which are never
found in the monkeys of any other country. This curious organ
serves the purpose of a fifth hand. It has so much muscular power
that the animal can hang by it easily with the tip curled round a
branch, while it can also be used to pick up small objects with
almost as much ease and exactness as an elephant’s trunk. In those
species which have it most perfectly formed it is very long and
powerful, and the end has the underside covered with bare skin,
exactly resembling that of the finger or palm of the hand and
apparently equally sensitive. One of the common kinds of monkeys
that accompany street organ-players has a prehensile tail, but not
of the most perfect kind; since in this species the tail is
entirely clad with hair to the tip, and seems to be used chiefly to
steady the animal when sitting on a branch by being twisted round
another branch near it. The statement is often erroneously made
that all American monkeys have prehensile tails; but the fact is
that rather less than half the known kinds have them so, the
remainder having this organ either short and bushy, or long and
slender, but entirely without any power of grasping. All
prehensile-tailed monkeys are American, but all American monkeys
are not prehensile-tailed.

By remembering these characters it is easy, with a little
observation, to tell whether any strange monkey comes from America
or from the Old World. If it has bare seat-pads, or if when eating
it fills its mouth till its cheeks swell out like little bags, we
may be sure it comes from some part of Africa or Asia; while if it
can curl up the end of its tail so as to take hold of anything, it
is certainly American. As all the tailed monkeys of the Old World
have seat-pads (or ischial callosities as they are called in
scientific language), and as all the American monkeys have tails,
but no seat-pads, this is the most constant external character by
which to distinguish them; and having done so we can look for the
other peculiarities of the American monkeys, especially the
distance apart of the nostrils and their lateral position.

The whole monkey-tribe is especially tropical, only a few kinds
being found in the warmer parts of the temperate zone. One inhabits
the Rock of Gibraltar, and there is one very like it in Japan, and
these are the two monkeys which live furthest from the equator. In
the tropics they become very abundant and increase in numbers and
variety as we approach the equator, where the climate is hot,
moist, and equable, and where flowers, fruits, and insects are to
be found throughout the year. Africa has about 55 different kinds,
Asia and its islands about 60, while America has 114, or almost
exactly the same as Asia and Africa together. Australia and its
islands have no monkeys, nor has the great and luxuriant island of
New Guinea, whose magnificent forests seem so well adapted for
them. We will now give a short account of the different kinds of
monkeys inhabiting each of the tropical continents.

Africa possesses two of the great man-like apes–the gorilla and
the chimpanzee, the former being the largest ape known, and the one
which, on the whole, perhaps most resembles man, though its
countenance is less human than that of the chimpanzee. Both are
found in West Africa, near the equator, but they also inhabit the
interior wherever there are great forests; and Dr. Schweinfurth
states that the chimpanzee inhabits the country about the sources
of the Shari River in 28° E. long. and 4° N. lat.

The long-tailed monkeys of Africa are very numerous and varied.
One group has no cheek pouches and no thumb on the hand, and many
of these have long soft fur of varied colors. The most numerous
group are the Guenons, rather small long-tailed monkeys, very
active and lively, and often having their faces curiously marked
with white or black, or ornamented with whiskers or other tufts of
hair; and they all have large cheek pouches and good sized thumbs.
Many of them are called green monkeys, from the greenish yellow
tint of their fur, and most of them are well formed, pleasing
animals. They are found only in tropical Africa.

The baboons are larger but less numerous. They resemble dogs in
the general form and the length of the face or snout, but they have
hands with well-developed thumbs on both the fore and hind limbs;
and this, with something in the expression of the face and their
habit of sitting up and using their hands in a very human fashion,
at once shows that they belong to the monkey tribe. Many of them
are very ugly, and in their wild state they are the fiercest and
most dangerous of monkeys. Some have the tail very long, others of
medium length, while it is sometimes reduced to a mere stump, and
all have large cheek pouches and bare seat pads. They are found all
over Africa, from Egypt to the Cape of Good Hope; while one
species, called the hamadryas, extends from Abyssinia across the
Red Sea into Arabia, and is the only baboon found out of Africa.
This species was known to the ancients, and it is often represented
in Egyptian sculptures, while mummies of it have been found in the
catacombs. The largest and most remarkable of all the baboons is
the mandrill of West Africa, whose swollen and hog-like face is
ornamented with stripes of vivid blue and scarlet. This animal has
a tail scarcely two inches long, while in size and strength it is
not much inferior to the gorilla. The large baboons go in bands,
and are said to be a match for any other animals in the African
forests, and even to attack and drive away the elephants from the
districts they inhabit.

Turning now to Asia, we have first one of the best known of the
large man-like apes–the orang-outang, found only in the two large
islands, Borneo and Sumatra. The name is Malay, signifying “man of
the woods,” and it should be pronounced órang-óotan,
the accent being on the first syllable of both words. It is a very
curious circumstance that, whereas the gorilla and chimpanzee are
both black, like the negroes of the same country, the orang-outang
is red or reddish brown, closely resembling the color of the Malays
and Dyaks who live in the Bornean forests. Though very large and
powerful, it is a harmless creature, feeding on fruit, and never
attacking any other animal except in self-defense. A full-grown
male orang-outang is rather more than four feet high, but with a
body as large as that of a stout man, and with enormously long and
powerful arms.

Another group of true apes inhabit Asia and the larger Asiatic
islands, and are in some respects the most remarkable of the whole
family. These are the Gibbons, or long-armed apes, which are
generally of small size and of a gentle disposition, but possessing
the most wonderful agility. In these creatures the arms are as long
as the body and legs together, and are so powerful that a gibbon
will hang for hours suspended from a branch, or swing to and fro
and then throw itself a great distance through the air. The arms,
in fact, completely take the place of the legs for traveling.
Instead of jumping from bough to bough and running on the branches,
like other apes and monkeys, the gibbons move along while hanging
suspended in the air, stretching their arms from bough to bough,
and thus going hand over hand as a very active sailor will climb
along a rope. The strength of their arms is, however, so
prodigious, and their hold so sure, that they often loose one hand
before they have caught a bough with the other, thus seeming almost
to fly through the air by a series of swinging leaps; and they
travel among the network of interlacing boughs a hundred feet above
the earth with as much ease and certainty as we walk or run upon
level ground, and with even greater speed. These little animals
scarcely ever come down to the ground of their own accord; but when
obliged to do so they run along almost erect, with their long arms
swinging round and round, as if trying to find some tree or other
object to climb upon. They are the only apes who naturally walk
without using their hands as well as their feet; but this does not
make them more like men, for it is evident that the attitude is not
an easy one, and is only adopted because the arms are habitually
used to swing by, and are therefore naturally held upward, instead
of downward, as they must be when walking on them.

The tailed monkeys of Asia consist of two groups, the first of
which have no cheek pouches, but always have very long tails, They
are true forest monkeys, very active and of a shy disposition. The
most remarkable of these is the long-nosed monkey of Borneo, which
is very large, of a pale brown color, and distinguished by
possessing a long, pointed, fleshy nose, totally unlike that of all
other monkeys. Another interesting species is the black and white
entellus monkey of India, called the “Hanuman,” by the Hindoos, and
considered sacred by them. These animals are petted and fed, and at
some of the temples numbers of them come every day for the food
which the priests, as well as the people, provide for them.

The next group of Eastern monkeys are the Macaques, which are
more like baboons, and often run upon the ground. They are more
bold and vicious than the others. All have cheek pouches, and
though some have long tails, in others the tail is short, or
reduced to a mere stump. In some few this stump is so very short
that there appears to be no tail, as in the magot of North Africa
and Gibraltar, and in an allied species that inhabits Japan.

AMERICAN MONKEYS.

The monkeys which inhabit America form three very distinct
groups: 1st, the Sapajous, which have prehensile or grasping tails;
2nd, the Sagouins, which have ordinary tails, either long or short;
and, 3rd, the Marmosets, very small creatures, with sharp claws,
long tails which are not prehensile, and a smaller number of teeth
than all other American monkeys. Each of these three groups contain
several sub-groups, or genera, which often differ remarkably
from each other, and from all the monkeys of the Old World.

We will begin with the howling monkeys, which are the largest
found in America, and are celebrated for the loud voice of the
males. Often in the great forests of the Amazon or Oronooko a
tremendous noise is heard in the night or early morning, as if a
great assemblage of wild beasts were all roaring and screaming
together. The noise may be heard for miles, and it is louder and
more piercing than that of any other animals, yet it is all
produced by a single male howler, sitting on the branches of some
lofty tree. They are enabled to make this extraordinary noise by
means of an organ that is possessed by no other animal. The lower
jaw is unusually deep, and this makes room for a hollow bony vessel
about the size of a large walnut, situated under the root of the
tongue, and having an opening into the windpipe by which the animal
can force air into it. This increases the power of its voice,
acting something like the hollow case of a violin, and producing
those marvelous rolling and reverberating sounds which caused the
celebrated traveler Waterton to declare that they were such as
might have had their origin in the infernal regions. The howlers
are large and stout bodied monkeys, with bearded faces, and very
strong and powerfully grasping tails. They inhabit the wildest
forests; they are very shy, and are seldom taken captive, though
they are less active than many other American monkeys.

Next come the spider monkeys, so called from their slender
bodies and enormously long limbs and tail. In these monkeys the
tail is so long, strong, and perfect, that it completely takes the
place of a fifth hand. By twisting the end of it round a branch the
animal can swing freely in the air with complete safety; and this
gives them a wonderful power of climbing end passing from tree to
tree, because the distance they can stretch is that of the tail,
body, and arm added together, and these are all unusually long.
They can also swing themselves through the air for great distances,
and are thus able to pass rapidly from tree to tree without ever
descending to the ground, just like the gibbons in the Malayan
forests. Although capable of feats of wonderful agility, the spider
monkeys are usually slow and deliberate in their motions, and have
a timid, melancholy expression, very different from that of most
monkeys. Their hands are very long, but have only four fingers,
being adapted for hanging on to branches rather than for getting
hold of small objects. It is said that when they have to cross a
river the trees on the opposite banks of which do not approach near
enough for a leap, several of them form a chain, one hanging by its
tail from a lofty overhanging branch and seizing hold of the tail
of the one below it, then gradually swinging themselves backward
and forward till the lower one is able to seize hold of a branch on
the opposite side. He then climbs up the tree, and, when
sufficiently high, the first one lets go, and the swing either
carries him across to a bough on the opposite side or he climbs up
over his companions.

Closely allied to the last are the woolly monkeys, which have an
equally well developed prehensile tail, but better proportioned
limbs, and a thick woolly fur of a uniform gray or brownish color.
They have well formed fingers and thumbs, both on the hands and
feet, and are rather deliberate in their motions, and exceedingly
tame and affectionate in captivity. They are great eaters, and are
usually very fat. They are found only in the far interior of the
Amazon valley, and, having a delicate constitution, seldom live
long in Europe. These monkeys are not so fond of swinging
themselves about by their tails as are the spider monkeys, and
offer more opportunities of observing how completely this organ
takes the place of a fifth hand. When walking about a house, or on
the deck of a ship, the partially curled tail is carried in a
horizontal position on the ground, and the moment it touches
anything it twists round it and brings it forward, when, if
eatable, it is at once appropriated; and when fastened up the
animal will obtain any food that may be out of reach of its hands
with the greatest facility, picking up small bits of biscuit, nuts,
etc., much as an elephant does with the tip of his trunk.

We now come to a group of monkeys whose prehensile tail is of a
less perfect character, since it is covered with hair to the tip,
and is of no use to pick up objects. It can, however, curl round a
branch, and serves to steady the animal while sitting or feeding,
but is never used to hang and swing by in the manner so common with
the spider monkeys and their allies. These are rather small-sized
animals, with round heads and with moderately long tails. They are
very active and intelligent, their limbs are not so long as in the
preceding group, and though they have five fingers on each hand and
foot, the hands have weak and hardly opposable thumbs. Some species
of these monkeys are often carried about by itinerant organ men,
and are taught to walk erect and perform many amusing tricks. They
form the genus Cebus of naturalists.

The remainder of the American monkeys have non-prehensile tails,
like those of the monkeys of the Eastern hemisphere; but they
consist of several distinct groups, and differ very much in
appearance and habits. First we have the Sakis, which have a bushy
tail and usually very long and thick hair, something like that of a
bear. Sometimes the tail is very short, appearing like a rounded
tuft of hair; many of the species have fine bushy whiskers, which
meet under the chin, and appear as if they had been dressed and
trimmed by a barber, and the head is often covered with thick curly
hair, looking like a wig. Others, again, have the face quite red,
and one has the head nearly bald, a most remarkable peculiarity
among monkeys. This latter species was met with by Mr. Bates on the
Upper Amazon, and he describes the face as being of a vivid
scarlet, the body clothed from neck to tail with very long,
straight, and shining white hair, while the head was nearly bald,
owing to the very short crop of thin gray hairs. As a finish to
their striking physiognomy these monkeys have bushy whiskers of a
sandy color meeting under the chin, and yellowish gray eyes. The
color of the face is so vivid that it looks as if covered with a
thick coat of bright scarlet paint. These creatures are very
delicate, and have never reached Europe alive, although several of
the allied forms have lived some time in our Zoological
Gardens.

An allied group consists of the elegant squirrel monkeys, with
long, straight, hairy tails, and often adorned with pretty
variegated colors. They are usually small animals; some have the
face marked with black and white, others have curious whiskers, and
their nails are rather sharp and claw like. They have large round
heads, and their fur is more glossy and smooth than in most other
American monkeys, so that they more resemble some of the smaller
monkeys of Africa. These little creatures are very active, running
about the trees like squirrels, and feeding largely on insects as
well as on fruit.

Closely allied to these are the small group of night monkeys,
which have large eyes, and a round face surrounded by a kind of
ruff of whitish fur, so as to give it an owl like appearance,
whence they are sometimes called owl-faced monkeys. They are
covered with soft gray fur, like that of a rabbit, and sleep all
day long concealed in hollow trees. The face is also marked with
white patches and stripes, giving it a rather carnivorous or cat
like aspect, which, perhaps, serves as a protection, by causing the
defenseless creature to be taken for an arboreal tiger cat or some
such beast of prey.

This finishes the series of such of the American monkeys as have
a larger number of teeth than those of the Old World. But there is
another group, the Marmosets, which have the same number of teeth
as Eastern monkeys, but differently distributed in the jaws, a
premolar being substituted for a molar tooth. In other particulars
they resemble the rest of the American monkeys. They are very small
and delicate creatures some having the body only seven inches long.
The thumb of the hands is[1] not opposable, and instead of nails
they have sharp compressed claws. These diminutive monkeys have
long, non-prehensile tails, and they have a silky fur often of
varied and beautiful colors. Some are striped with gray and white,
or are of rich brown or golden brown tints, varied by having the
head or shoulders white or black, while in many there are crests,
frills, manes, or long ear tufts, adding greatly to their variety
and beauty. These little animals are timid and restless; their
motions are more like those of a squirrel than a monkey. Their
sharp claws enable them to run quickly along the branches, but they
seldom leap from bough to bough like the larger monkeys. They live
on fruits and insects, but are much afraid of wasps, which they are
said to recognize even in a picture.

[Transcribers note 1: Changed from ‘… it not opposable’,
…]

This completes our sketch of the American monkeys, and we see
that, although they possess no such remarkable forms as the gorilla
or the baboons, yet they exhibit a wonderful diversity of external
characters, considering that all seem equally adapted to a purely
arboreal life. In the howlers we have a specially developed voice
organ, which is altogether peculiar; in the spider monkeys we find
the adaptation to active motion among the topmost branches of the
forest trees carried to an extreme point of development; while the
singular nocturnal monkeys, the active squirrel monkeys, and the
exquisite little marmosets, show how distinct are the forms under
which the same general type, may be exhibited, and in how many
varied ways existence may be sustained under almost identical
conditions.

LEMURS.

In the general term, monkeys, considered as equivalent to the
order Primates, or the Quadrumana of naturalists, we have to
include another sub-type, that of the Lemurs. These animals are of
a lower grade than the true monkeys, from which they differ in so
many points of structure that they are considered to form a
distinct sub-order, or, by some naturalists, even a separate order.
They have usually a much larger head and more pointed muzzle than
monkeys; they vary considerably in the number, form, and
arrangement of the teeth; their thumbs are always well developed,
but their fingers vary much in size and length; their tails are
usually long, but several species have no tail whatever, and they
are clothed with a more or less woolly fur, often prettily
variegated with white and black. They inhabit the deep forests of
Africa, Madagascar, and Southern Asia, and are more sluggish in
their movements than true monkeys, most of them being of nocturnal
and crepuscular habits. They feed largely on insects, eating also
fruits and the eggs or young of birds.

The most curious species are–the slow lemurs of South India,
small tailless nocturnal animals, somewhat resembling sloths in
appearance, and almost as deliberate in their movements, except
when in the act of seizing their insect prey; the Tarsier, or
specter lemur, of the Malay islands, a small, long tailed nocturnal
lemur, remarkable for the curious development of the hind feet,
which have two of the toes very short, and with sharp claws, while
the others have nails, the third toe being exceedingly long and
slender, though the thumb is very large, giving the feet a very
irregular and outré appearance; and, lastly, the
Aye-aye, of Madagascar, the most remarkable of all. This animal has
very large ears and a squirrel like tail, with long spreading hair.
It has large curved incisor teeth, which add to its squirrel like
appearance, and caused the early naturalists to class it among the
rodents. But its most remarkable character is found in its fore
feet or hands, the fingers of which are all very long and armed
with sharp curved claws, but one of them, the second, is
wonderfully slender, being not half the thickness of the others.
This curious combination of characters shows that the aye-aye is a
very specialized form–that is, one whose organization has been
slowly modified to fit it for a peculiar mode of life. From
information received from its native country, and from a profound
study of its organization, Professor Owen believes that it is
adapted for the one purpose of feeding on small wood-boring
insects. Its large feet and sharp claws enable it to cling firmly
to the branches of trees in almost any position; by means of its
large delicate ears it listens for the sound of the insect gnawing
within the branch, and is thus able to fix its exact position; with
its powerful curved gnawing teeth it rapidly cuts away the bark and
wood till it exposes the burrow of the insect, most probably the
soft larva of some beetle, and then comes into play the
extraordinary long wire-like finger, which enters the small
cylindrical burrow, and with the sharp bent claw hooks out the
grub. Here we have a most complex adaptation of different parts and
organs, all converging to one special end, that end being the same
as is reached by a group of birds, the woodpeckers, in a different
way; and it is a most interesting fact that, although woodpeckers
abound in all the great continents, and are especially common in
the tropical forests of Asia, Africa, and America, they are quite
absent from Madagascar. We may, therefore, consider that the
aye-aye really occupies the same place in nature in the forests of
this tropical island, as do the woodpeckers in other parts of the
world.

DISTRIBUTION, AFFINITIES, AND ZOOLOGICAL RANK OF MONKEYS.

Having thus sketched an outline of the monkey tribe as regards
their more prominent external characters and habits, we must say a
few words on their general relations as a distinct order of
mammalia. No other group so extensive and so varied as this, is so
exclusively tropical in its distribution, a circumstance no doubt
due to the fact that monkeys depend so largely on fruit and insects
for their subsistence. A very few species extend into the warmer
parts of the temperate zones, their extreme limits in the northern
hemisphere being Gibraltar, the Western Himalayas at 11,000 feet
elevation, East Thibet, and Japan. In America they are found in
Mexico, but do not appear to pass beyond the tropic. In the
Southern hemisphere they are limited by the extent of the forests
in South Brazil, which reach about 30° south latitude. In the
East, owing to their entire absence from Australia, they do not
reach the tropic; but in Africa, some baboons range to the southern
extremity of the continent.

But this extreme restriction of the order to almost tropical
lands is only recent. Directly we go back to the Pliocene period of
geology, we find the remains of monkeys in France, and even in
England. In the earlier Miocene, several kinds, some of large size,
lived in France, Germany, and Greece, all more or less closely
allied to living forms of Asia and Africa. About the same period
monkeys of the South American type inhabited the United States. In
the remote Eocene period the same temperate lands were inhabited by
lemurs in the East, and by curious animals believed to be
intermediate between lemurs and marmosets in the West. We know from
a variety of other evidence that throughout these vast periods a
mild and almost sub-tropical climate extended over all Central
Europe and parts of North America, while one of a temperate
character prevailed as far north as the Arctic circle. The monkey
tribe then enjoyed a far greater range over the earth, and perhaps
filled a more important place in nature than it does now. Its
restriction to the comparatively narrow limits of the tropics is no
doubt mainly due to the great alteration of climate which occurred
at the close of the Tertiary period, but it may have been aided by
the continuous development of varied forms of mammalian life better
fitted for the contrasted seasons and deciduous vegetation of the
north temperate regions. The more extensive area formerly inhabited
by the monkey tribe, would have favored their development into a
number of divergent forms, in distant regions, and adapted to
distinct modes of life. As these retreated southward and became
concentrated in a more limited area, such as were able to maintain
themselves became mingled together as we now find them, the ancient
and lowly marmosets and lemurs subsisting side by side with the
more recent and more highly developed howlers and anthropoid
apes.

Throughout the long ages of the Tertiary period monkeys must
have been very abundant and very varied, yet it is but rarely that
their fossil remains are found. This, however, is not difficult to
explain. The deposits in which mammalian remains most abound are
those formed in lakes or in caverns. In the former the bodies of
large numbers of terrestrial animals were annually deposited, owing
to their having been caught by floods in the tributary streams,
swallowed up in marginal bogs or quicksands, or drowned by the
giving way of ice. Caverns were the haunts of hyenas, tigers,
bears, and other beasts of prey, which dragged into them the bodies
of their victims, and left many of their bones to become embedded
in stalagmite or in the muddy deposit left by floods, while
herbivorous animals were often carried into them by these floods,
or by falling down the swallow-holes which often open into caverns
from above. But, owing to their arboreal habits, monkeys were to a
great extent freed from all these dangers. Whether devoured by
beasts or birds of prey, or dying a natural death, their bones
would usually be left on dry land, where they would slowly decay
under atmospheric influences. Only under very exceptional
circumstances would they become embedded in aqueous deposits; and
instead of being surprised at their rarity we should rather wonder
that so many have been discovered in a fossil state.

Monkeys, as a whole, form a very isolated group, having no near
relations to any other mammalia. This is undoubtedly an indication
of great antiquity. The peculiar type which has since reached so
high a development must have branched off the great mammalian stock
at a very remote epoch, certainly far back in the Secondary period,
since in the Eocene we find lemurs and lemurine monkeys already
specialized. At this remoter period they were probably not
separable from the insectivora, or (perhaps) from the ancestral
marsupials. Even now we have one living form, the curious
Galeopithecus or flying lemur, which has only recently been
separated from the lemurs, with which it was formerly united, to be
classed as one of the insectivora; and it is only among the
Opossums and some other marsupials that we again find hand-like
feet with opposable thumbs, which are such a curious and constant
feature of the monkey tribe.

This relationship to the lowest of the mammalian tribes seems
inconsistent with the place usually accorded to these animals at
the head of the entire mammalian series, and opens up the question
whether this is a real superiority or whether it depends merely on
the obvious relationship to ourselves. If we could suppose a being
gifted with high intelligence, but with a form totally unlike that
of man, to have visited the earth before man existed in order to
study the various forms of animal life that were found there, we
can hardly think he would have placed the monkey tribe so high as
we do. He would observe that their whole organization was specially
adapted to an arboreal life, and this specialization would be
rather against their claiming the first rank among terrestrial
creatures. Neither in size, nor strength, nor beauty, would they
compare with many other forms, while in intelligence they would not
surpass, even if they equaled, the horse or the beaver. The
carnivora, as a whole, would certainly be held to surpass them in
the exquisite perfection of their physical structure, while the
flexible trunk of the elephant, combined with his vast strength and
admirable sagacity, would probably gain for him the first rank in
the animal creation.

But if this would have been a true estimate, the mere fact that
the ape is our nearest relation does not necessarily oblige us to
come to any other conclusion. Man is undoubtedly the most perfect
of all animals, but he is so solely in respect of characters in
which he differs from all the monkey tribe–the easily erect
posture, the perfect freedom of the hands from all part in
locomotion, the large size and complete opposability of the thumb,
and the well developed brain, which enables him fully to utilize
these combined physical advantages. The monkeys have none of these;
and without them the amount of resemblance they have to us is no
advantage, and confers no rank. We are biased by the too exclusive
consideration of the man-like apes. If these did not exist the
remaining monkeys could not be thereby deteriorated as to their
organization or lowered in their zoological position, but it is
doubtful if we should then class them so high as we now do. We
might then dwell more on their resemblances to lower types–to
rodents, to insectivora, and to marsupials, and should hardly rank
the hideous baboon above the graceful leopard or stately stag. The
true conclusion appears to be, that the combination of external
characters and internal structure which exists in the monkeys, is
that which, when greatly improved, refined, and beautified, was
best calculated to become the perfect instrument of the human
intellect and to aid in the development of man’s higher nature;
while, on the other hand, in the rude, inharmonious, and
undeveloped state which it has reached in the quadrumana, it is by
no means worthy of the highest place, or can be held to exhibit the
most perfect development of existing animal life.–Contemporary
Review.

[JOURNAL OF THE SOCIETY OF ARTS.]

SILK-PRODUCING BOMBYCES AND OTHER LEPIDOPTERA REARED IN
1881.

By ALFRED WAILLY, Membre Lauréat de la
Société d’Acclimatation de France.

By referring to my reports for the years 1879 and 1880, which
appeared in the Journal of the Society of Arts, February 13
and March 5, 1880, February 25 and March 4, 1881, it will be seen
that the bad weather prevented the successful rearing in the open
air of most species of silk-producing larvæ. In 1881, the
weather was extremely favorable up to the end of July, but the
incessant and heavy rains of the month of August and beginning of
September, proved fatal to most of the larvæ when they were
in their last stages. However, in spite of my many difficulties, I
had the satisfaction of seeing them to their last stage.
Larvæ of all the silk-producing bombyces were preserved in
their different stages, and can be seen in the Bethnal-green
Museum. In July, when the weather was magnificent, the little trees
in my garden were literally covered with larvæ of more
species than I ever had before, and two or three more weeks of fair
weather would have given me a good crop of cocoons, instead of
which I only obtained a very small number. The sparrows, as usual,
also destroyed a quantity of worms, in spite of wire or
fish-netting placed over some of the trees.

On the trees were to be seen–Attacus cynthia (the
Ailantus silkworm), the rearing of which was, as usual, most
successful; Samia cecropia and Samia gloveri, from
America; also hybrids of Gloveri cecropia and Cecropia
gloveri; Samia promethea and Telea polyphemus;
Attacus pernyi, and a new hybrid, which I obtained this last
season by the crossing of Pernyi with Royle. For the first time I
reared Actias selene, from India, on a nut-tree in the
garden, and Attacus atlas, on the ailantus. The
Selene larvæ reached their fifth and last stage. The
Atlas larvæ only reached the third stage, and were destroyed
by the heavy rains; only two remained on the tree till about the
8th or 9th of September, when they had to be removed. I shall now
reproduce the notes I took on some of the various species I
reared.

Actias Selene.–With sixty cocoons I only obtained one
pairing. The moths emerged from the beginning of March till the
13th of August, at intervals of some duration, or in batches of
males or females. I obtained a pairing of Selene on the 30toh of
June, 1881, and the worms commenced to hatch on the 13th of July.
The larvæ in first stage are of a fine brown-red, with a
broad black band in the middle of the body. The second stage
commenced on the 20th of July; larvæ, of a lighter reddish
color, without the black band; tubercles black. Third stage
commenced on the 28th of July; larvæ green; the first four
tubercles yellow, with a black ring at the base; other tubercles,
orange yellow. Fourth stage commenced on the 6th of August;
larvæ green; first four tubercles golden-yellow, the others
orange-red. Fifth stage commenced on the 19th of August; first four
tubercles yellow, with a black ring at the base; other tubercles
yellow, slightly tinged with orange-red; lateral band brown and
greenish yellow; head and forelegs dark-brown. As stated before,
the larvæ were reared on a nut-tree in the garden, till the
last stage. Selene feeds on various trees–walnut, wild cherry,
wild pear, etc. In Ceylon (at Kandy), it is found on the wild olive
tree. As far as I am informed by correspondents in Ceylon, this
species is not found–or is seldom found–on the coasts, but
Attacus atlas and Mylitta are commonly found there.

Attacus (antheroea) roylei (with sixty cocoons); three
pairings only were obtained, and this species I found the most
difficult to pair in captivity. Two moths emerged on the 5th of
March, a male and a female, and a pairing was obtained; but the
weather being then too cold, the ova were not fertile, the female
moth, after laying about two hundred eggs, lived till the 22d of
March, which is a very long time; this was owing to the low
temperature. The moths emerged afterward from the 8th of April till
the 25th of June. A pairing took place on the 2d of June, and
another on the 6th of June.

Roylei (the Himalaya oak silkworm) is very closely allied to
Pernyi, the Chinese oak silkworm; the Roylei moths are of a lighter
color, but the larvæ of both species can hardly be
distinguished from one another. The principal difference between
the two species is in the cocoon. The Roylei cocoon is within a
very large and tough envelope, while that of Pernyi has no outer
envelope at all. The larvæ of Roylei I reared did not thrive,
and the small number I had only went to the fourth stage, owing to
several causes. I bred them under glass, in a green-house. A
certain number of the larvæ were unable to cut the shell of
the egg.

Here are a few notes I find in my book: Ova of Roylei commenced
to hatch on the 29th of June; second stage commenced on the 9th of
July. The larvæ in the first two stages seemed to me similar
to those of Pernyi, as far as I could see. In second stage, the
tubercles were of a brilliant orange-red; on anal segment, blue dot
on each side. Third stage, four rows of orange-yellow tubercles,
two blue dots on anal segment, brilliant gold metallic spots at the
base of the tubercles on the back, and silver metallic spots at the
base of the tubercles on the sides. No further notes taken.

One of my correspondents in Vienna (Austria) obtained a
remarkable success in the rearing of Roylei. From the twenty-five
eggs he had twenty-three larvæ hatched, which produced
twenty-three fine cocoons. The same correspondent, with thirty-five
eggs of Samia gloveri, obtained twenty cocoons. My other
correspondents did not obtain any success in rearing these two
species, as far as I know.

Hybrid Roylei-Pernyi.–I have said that it is extremely
difficult to obtain the pairing of Roylei moths in captivity. But
the male Pernyi paired readily with the female Roylei. I obtained
six such pairings, and a large quantity of fertile ova. The
pairings of Roylei (female) with Pernyi (male) took place as
follows: two on the 21st of May, one on the 3d of June, two on the
4th of June, and one on the 6th.

The larvæ of this new hybrid, Roylei-Pernyi,
contrary to what might have been expected, were much easier to rear
than those of Roylei, and the cocoons obtained are far superior to
those of Roylei, in size, weight, and richness of silk. The cocoon
of my new hybrid has, like Roylei, an envelope, but there is no
space between this envelope and the true cocoon inside. Therefore,
this time, the crossing of two different species (but, it must be
added, two very closely allied species) has produced a hybrid very
superior, at least to one of the types, that of Roylei. The cocoons
of the hybrid Roylei-Pernyi seem to me larger and heavier
than any Pernyi cocoons I have as yet seen.

The larvæ of this new hybrid have been successfully reared
in France, in Germany, in Austria, and in the United States of
North America. The cocoons obtained by Herr L. Huessman, one of my
German correspondents, are remarkable for their size and beauty.
The silk is silvery white.

I have seventeen cocoons of this hybrid species, which number
may be sufficient for its reproduction. But the question arises,
“Will the moths obtained from these cocoons be susceptible of
reproduction?”

In my report on Lepidoptera for the year 1879, I stated, with
respect to hybrids and degeneracy, that hybrids had been obtained
by the crossing of Attacus pernyi and Attacus
yama-maï, but that, although the moths (some of which may
be seen in the Bethnal-green Museum) are large and apparently
perfect in every respect, yet these hybrids could not be
reproduced. It must be stated that these two species differ
essentially in one particular point. Yama-maï
hibernates in the ovum state, while Pernyi hibernates in the
pupa state. The hybrids hibernated in the pupa state.
Roylei, as Pernyi, hibernates in the pupa state.

In the November number, 1881, of “The Entomologist,” Mr. W.F.
Kirby, of the British Museum, wrote an article having for its
title, “Hermaphrodite-hybrid Sphingidæ,” in which, referring
to hybrids of Smerinthus ocellatus and populi, he
says that hermaphroditism is the usual character of such
hybrids.

I extract the following passage from his article: “I was under
the impression that hermaphroditism was the usual character of
these hybrids; and it has suggested itself to my mind as a
possibility, which I have not, at present, sufficient data either
to prove or to disprove, that the sterility of hybrids in general
(still a somewhat obscure subject) may perhaps be partly due to
hybridism having a tendency to produce hermaphroditism.”

Now, will the moths of new hybrid Roylei pernyi (which I expect
will emerge in May or June, 1882) have the same tendency to
hermaphroditism as has been observed with the hybrids obtained by
the crossing of Smerinthus populi with Sm. ocellatus?
I do not think that such will be the case with the moths of the
hybrid Roylei-pernyi, on account of the close relationship of
Roylei with Pernyi, but nothing certain can be known till the moths
have emerged. Here are the few notes taken on the hybrid
Roylei-pernyi: Ova commenced to hatch on the 12th of June; these
were from the pairing which had taken place on the 21st of May.
Larvæ, black, with long white hairs. Second stage commenced
on the 21st of June. Larva, of a beautiful green; tubercles
orange-yellow; head dark brown. Third stage commenced on the 1st of
July; fourth stage on the 7th. Larva of same color in those stages;
tubercles on the back, violet-blue or mauve; tubercles on the
sides, blue. Fifth stage commenced on the 18th of July. Larva, with
tubercles on back and sides, blue, or violet-blue. First cocoon
commenced on the 10th of August. Want of time prevented me from
taking fuller and more accurate notes.

Attacus Atlas.–For the first time, as stated before, I
attempted the rearing of a small number of Atlas larvæ in the
open air on the ailantus tree, but had to remove the last two
remaining larvæ in September; the others had all disappeared
in consequence of the heavy and incessant rains. These larvæ
were from eggs sent to me by one of my German correspondents. The
pairing of the moths had taken place on the 17th of July, and the
eggs had commenced to hatch on the 4th of August.

I had about eighty cocoons of another and larger race of Atlas
imported from the Province of Kumaon, but only eight moths emerged
at intervals from the 31st of July to the 30th of September. Not
only did the moths emerge too late in the season, but there never
was a chance of obtaining a pairing. In my report on Indian
silkworms, published in the November number of the “Bulletin de la
Societe d’Acclimatation,” for the year 1881, compiled from the work
of Mr. J. Geoghegan, I reproduce the first appendix of Captain
Thomas Hutton to Mr. Geoghegan’s work, in which are given the names
of all the Indian silkworms known by him up to the year 1871.

Of Attacus atlas, Captain Hutton says: “It is common at
5,500 feet at Mussoorie, and in the Dehra Doon; it is also found in
some of the deep warm glens of the outer hills. It is also common
at Almorah, where the larva feeds almost exclusively upon the
‘Kilmorah’ bush or Berberis asiatica; while at Mussoorie it
will not touch that plant, but feeds exclusively upon the large
milky leaves of Falconeria insignis. The worm is, perhaps,
more easily reared than any other of the wild bombycidæ.”

I will now quote from letters received from one of my
correspondents in Ceylon, a gentleman of great experience and
knowledge in sericulture.

In a letter dated 24th August, 1881, my correspondent says: “The
Atlas moth seems to be a near relation of the Cynthia, and would
probably feed on the Ailantus. Here it feeds on the cinnamon and a
great number of other trees of widely different species; but the
tree on which I have kept it most successfully in a domestic state
is the Milnea roxburghiana, a handsome tree, with dark-green
ternate leaves, which keep fresh long after being detached from the
tree. I do not think the cocoon can ever be reeled, as the thread
usually breaks when it comes to the open end. I have tried to reel
a great many Atlas cocoons, but always found the process too
tedious and troublesome for practical use.

“The Mylitta (Tusser) is a more hardy species than the Atlas,
and I have had no difficulty in domesticating it. Here it feeds on
the cashew-nut tree, on the so-called almond of this country
(Terminalia catappa), which is a large tree entirely
different from the European almond, and on many other trees. Most
of the trees whose leaves turn red when about to fall seem to suit
it, but it is not confined to these. In the case of the Atlas moth,
I discovered one thing which may be well worth knowing, and that
was, that with cocoons brought to the seaside after the larvæ
had been reared in the Central Provinces, in a temperature ten or
twelve degrees colder, the moths emerged in from ten to twenty days
after the formation of the cocoon. The duration of the pupa
stage in this, and probably in other species, therefore, depends
upon the temperature in which the larvæ have lived, as well
as the degree of heat in which the cocoons are kept; and in
transporting cocoons from India to Europe, I think it will be found
that the moths are less liable to be prematurely forced out by the
heat of the Red Sea when the larvæ have been reared in a warm
climate than when they have been reared in a cold one.

“I do not agree with the opinion expressed in one of your
reports, that the short duration of the larva stage, caused by a
high temperature, has the effect of diminishing the size of the
cocoons, because the Atlas and Tusser cocoons produced at the
sea-level here are quite as large as those found in the Central
Provinces at elevations of three thousand feet or more. According
to the treatise on the “Silk Manufacture,” in “Lardner’s
Cyclopedia,” the Chinese are of opinion that one drachm of mulberry
silkworms’ eggs will produce 25 ounces of silk if the caterpillars
attain maturity within twenty-five days; 20 ounces if the
commencement of the cocoons be delayed until the twenty-eighth day;
and only 10 ounces if it be delayed until between the thirtieth and
fortieth day. If this is correct, a short-lived larva stage must,
instead of causing small cocoons, produce just the contrary
effect.”

In another letter, dated November 25, 1881, my correspondent
says: “I am sorry that you have not had better success in the
rearing of your larvæ, but you should not despair. It is
possible that the choice of an improper food-plant may have as much
to do with failures as the coldness and dampness of the English
climate. I lost many thousands of Atlas caterpillars before I found
out the proper tree to keep them on in a domesticated state; and
when I did attain partial success, I could not keep them for more
than one generation, till I found the Milnea roxburghiana to
be their proper food plant. I do not know the proper food-plant of
the Mylitta (Tusser), but I have succeeded very well with it, as it
is a more hardy species than the Atlas. Though a Bombyx be
polyphagous in a state of nature, yet I think most species have a
tree proper to themselves, on which they are more at home than on
any other plant. I should like, if you could find out from some
your correspondents in India, on what species of tree Mylitta
cocoons are found in the largest numbers, and what is about the
greatest number found on a single tree. The Mylitta is common
enough here, but there does not seem to be any kind of tree here on
which the cocoons are to be found in greater numbers than twos and
threes; and there must be some tree in India on which the cocoons
are to be found in much greater plenty, because they could not
otherwise be collected in sufficient quantity for manufacturing
purposes. The Atlas is here found on twenty or more different kinds
of trees, but a hundred or a hundred and fifty cocoons or
larvæ may be found on a single tree of Milnea
roxburghiana, while they are to be found only singly, or in
twos and threes, on any other tree that I know of. The Atlas and
Mylitta seem to be respectively the Indian relations of the Cynthia
and Pernyi. It is, therefore, probable that the Ailantus would be
the most suitable European tree for the Atlas, and the oak for the
Mylitta.”

Attacus mylitta (Antheræa paphia).–I did
not receive a single cocoon of this species for the season 1881. My
stock consisted of seven cocoons, from the lot received from
Calcutta at the end of February, 1880. Five were female, and two
male cocoons; one of the latter died, thus reducing the number to
six. The moths emerged as follows: One female on the 21st of June,
one female on the 26th, one female on the 28th, one female on the
1st of July, and one male on the 3d of August; the latter emerging
thirty-four days too late to be of any use for rearing purposes.
The last female moth emerged, I think, about the end of September.
These cocoons had hibernated twice, as has been the case with other
Indian species. I had Indian cocoons which hibernated even three
times.

Attacus cynthia, from the province of Kumaon.–With the
Atlas cocoons, a large quantity of Cynthia cocoons were collected
in the province of Kumaon. Both species had, no doubt, fed on the
same trees; as the Cynthia, like the Atlas cocoons, were all
inclosed in leaves of the Berberis vulgaris, which shows
that Cynthia is also a polyphagous species. It is already known
that it feeds on several species of trees, besides the ailantus,
such as the laburnum, lilac, cherry, and, I think, also on the
castor-oil plant; the common barberry has, therefore, to be added
to the above food plants.

These Kumaon Cynthia cocoons were somewhat smaller and much
darker in color than those of the acclimatized Cynthia reared on
the ailantus. The moths of this wild Indian Cynthia were also of a
richer color than those of the cultivated species in Europe.

During the summer 1881, I saw cocoons of my own Cynthia race
obtained from worms which had been reared on the laburnum tree.
These cocoons were, as far as I can remember, of a yellowish or
saffron color; which I had never seen before. This difference in
the color of the cocoon was very likely produced by the change of
food, although it has been stated, and I think it may be quite
correct, that with many species of native lepidoptera the change of
food-plants does not produce any difference of color in the insects
obtained. With respect to the Cynthia worms reared on the laburnum
instead of the ailantus, it may be that the moths, which will
emerge from the yellow cocoons, will be similar to those obtained
from cocoons spun by worms bred on the ailantus, and that the only
difference will be in the color of the cocoons.

The Kumaon Cynthia cocoons, as I found it to be the case with
Indian species introduced for the first time into Europe, did not
produce moths at the same time, nor as regularly as the
acclimatized species. The moths emerged as follows: One female on
the 22d of July; one female on the 25th; one male on the 3d August;
one female on the 19th; one male on the 28th of August; one male on
the 2d September; one female on the 3d. A pairing was obtained with
the latter two. Two males emerged on the 4th of September; one male
on the 6th; one male and one female on the 22d; one female on the
23d; and one female on the 25th of September. Five cocoons, which
did not produce any moths, contain pupæ, which are still in
perfect condition; and the moths will no doubt emerge next summer
(1882). As seen in my note, a pairing of this wild Indian Cynthia
took place; this was from the evening of the 4th to the 5th of
September. The eggs laid by the female moth were deposited in a
most curious way, in smaller or larger quantities, but all forming
perfect triangles. These eggs I gave to a florist who has been very
successful in the rearing of silk-producing and other larvæ;
telling him to rear the Cynthia on lilacs grown in pots and placed
in a hot-house, which was done. The worms, which hatched in a few
days, as they were placed in a hot-house, thrived wonderfully well,
and I might say they thrived too well, as they grew so fast and
became so voracious that the growth of the lilac trees could not
keep pace with the growth of the worms. These, at the fourth stage,
became so large that the foliage was entirely devoured, and, of
course, the consequence was that all the worms were starved. I only
heard of the result of that experiment long after the death of the
larvæ; otherwise I should have suggested the use of another
plant after the destruction of the foliage of the lilacs; the
privet (Ligustrum vulgare) might have been tried, and
success obtained with it.

Of such species as Attacus pyri, of Central Europe, and
Attacus pernyi, the North Chinese oak silkworm, which I have
mentioned in my previous reports, and bred every season for several
years, I shall only say that I never could rear Pyri in the open
air in London, up to the formation of the cocoon. As to Pernyi, I
had, in 1881, an immense quantity of splendid moths, from which I
obtained the largest quantity of ova I ever had of this species. I
had many thousands of fertile ova of Pernyi, which I was unable to
distribute. Many schoolboys reared Pernyi worms, but with what
success I do not yet know. The number of fertile ova obtained from
Pyri moths was also more considerable than in former years, which
was due partly to the good quality of the pupæ, and partly to
the very favorable weather in June, at the time the pairings of the
moths took place.

Leaving these, I now come to the North American species.

Telea polyphemus.–As I have stated in former years, this
is the best North American silkworm, producing a closed cocoon,
somewhat smaller than that of Pernyi, but the silk seems as good as
that of Pernyi.

The cocoons of Polyphemus I had in 1881 were smaller and
inferior in quality to those I had before. Those received in 1878
and 1879 were considerably finer and larger than those which were
sent in 1880 and 1881; besides, they were sent in much larger
quantities. The cocoons received this year (1882) are finer than
those of 1881, but yet they cannot be compared with those of 1878
and 1879.

With about sixty cocoons of Telea polyphemus I only
obtained three pairings, which I attribute solely to the weakness
of the moths, as the weather was all that could be desired for the
pairings. The moths emerged from the 1st of June to the 20th of
July. One male moth emerged on the 7th September. This latter was
one from a small number of cocoons received from Alabama; the other
cocoons of the same race had emerged at the same time as the
cocoons from the Northern States. In the Northern States the
species is single-brooded; in the Southern States it is
double-brooded.

The larvæ of Polyphemus can be bred in the open air in
England, almost as easily as those of Pernyi, and even Cynthia;
they will pass through their five stages and spin their cocoons on
the trees, unless the weather should be unexceptionally cold and
wet, as was the case during the month of August, 1881, when the
larvæ had reached their full size; they were reared this year
on the nut-tree, and some on the oak. The species is extremely
polyphagous, and will feed well on oak, birch, chestnut, beech,
willow, nut, etc.

The moth of Polyphemus is very beautiful, and, as in some other
species, varies in its shades of color. The larva is of a
transparent green, of extreme beauty; the head is light brown;
without any black dots, as in Pernyi; the spines are pink, and at
the base of each of them there is a brilliant metallic spot. When
the sun shines on them the larvæ seem to be covered with
diamonds. These metallic spots at the base of the spines are also
seen on Pernyi, Yama mai, Mylitta, and other species of the genus
Antheræa, all having a closed cocoon, but none of these have
so many as Polyphemus.

The cocoons of the species of the genus Actias are closed, but
the larvæ have not the metallic spots of the species of the
genus Antheræa.

Samia Gloveri.–Three North American silk-producing
bombyces, very closely allied, have been mentioned in my previous
reports; they are; Samia ceanothi, from California; Samia
gloveri, from Utah and Arizona; and Samia cecropia,
commonly found in most of the Northern States–the latter is the
best and largest silk producer. Crossings of these species took
places in 1880, and, as I stated before, the ova obtained from a
long pairing between a Ceanothi female with a Gloveri male, were
the only ones which were fertile. The Gloveri cocoons received in
1880 were of a very inferior quality, and produced moths from which
no pairings could be obtained, although some crossings took place.
In 1881, the Gloveri cocoons, on the contrary, produced fine,
healthy moths; yet only five pairings could be obtained, with about
one hundred cocoons. Besides these five pairings, a quantity of
fertile ova were obtained by the crossings of S. gloveri
(female) with S. cecropia (male), and Cecropia (female) with
Gloveri (male). No success, so far as I know, was obtained with the
rearing of the hybrid larvæ; the rearings of the larvæ
of pure Gloveri were also, I think, a failure, only one
correspondent having been successful; but some correspondents have
not yet made the result of their experiments known to me. The
larvæ of Samia cecropia, S. gloveri, and S.
ceanothi, are very much alike; and hardly any difference can be
observed in the first two stages. In the third and fourth stages,
the larvæ of S. cecropia and S. gloveri are
also nearly alike; the principal difference between these two
species and S. cecropia being that the tubercles on the back
are of a uniform color–orange-red, or yellow–while on Cecropia
the first four dorsal tubercles are red, and the rest yellow. The
tubercles on the sides are blue on the three species.

The larvæ of the hybrids Gloveri-cecropia were, as
far as I could observe, like those of Cecropia, but I noticed some
with six red tubercles on the back instead of four, as on Cecropia.
They were reared on plum, apple, and Salix caprea; in the
open air.

The larvæ of Samia gloveri were reared, during the
first four stages on a wild plum-tree, then on Salix,
caprea, and I reproduce the notes taken on this species, which
I bred this year (1881) for the first time.

Gloveri moths emerged from the 15th of May to the end of June;
five pairings took place as follows: 1st, 4th, 9th, 24th, and 26th
of June. First stage–larvæ quite black. Second
stage–larvæ orange, with black spines. Third stage–dorsal
spines, orange-red; spines on sides blue. Fourth stage–dorsal
spines, orange or yellow, spines on the sides blue; body light blue
on the back, and greenish yellow on the sides; head, green; legs,
yellow. Fifth and sixth stage–larvæ nearly the same;
tubercles on the back yellow, the first four having a black ring at
the base; side tubercles ivory-white, with a dark-blue base.

The above-mentioned American species, like most other
silk-producing bombyces, were bred in the open air; but besides
these, I reared three other species of American bombyces in the
house, under glass, and with the greatest success. These are:
Hyperchiria io, a beautiful species mentioned in my report
for the year 1879; Orgyia leucostigma, from ova received on
December 29, 1880, from Madison, Wis., which hatched on the 27th of
May, 1881.

The third American species reared under glass is the following
very interesting bombyx: Ceratocampa (Eacles) imperialis.
The pupæ of this species are rough, and armed with small,
sharp points at all the segments; the last segment having a thick,
straight, and bifid tail. The moths, which measure from four to
about six inches in expanse of wings, are bright yellow, with large
patches and round spots of reddish-brown, with a purple gloss;
besides these patches and round spots, the wings are covered with
small dark dots. The male moth is much more blotched than the
female, and although of a smaller size, is much more showy than the
female.

With twenty-four pupæ of Imperialis I obtained nineteen
moths from the 21st of June to the 19th of July; five pupæ
died. Two pairings took place; the first from the evening of the
13th to the morning of the 14th; the second from the evening of the
15th to the morning of the 16th of July.

The ova, which are about the size of those of Yama-mai, Pernyi,
or Mylitta, are rather flat and concave on one side, of an
amber-yellow color and transparent, like those of sphingidæ.
When the larvæ have absorbed the yellow liquid in the egg,
and are fully developed; they can be seen through the shell of the
egg, which is white or colorless when the larva has come out.

The larvæ of Imperialis, which have six stages, commenced
to hatch on the 31st of July; the second stage commenced on the 7th
of August; the third, on the 17th; the fourth, on the 29th of
August; the fifth, on the 18th of September; and the sixth, on the
1st of October. The larvæ commenced to pupate on 13th of
October.

The larvæ of this curious species vary considerably in
color. Some are of a yellowish color, others are brown and tawny,
others are black or nearly black. My correspondent in Georgia, who
bred this species the same season as I did, in 1881, had some of
the larvæ that were green. In all the stages the larvæ
have five conspicuous spines or horns; two on the third segment,
two on the fourth, and one on the last segment but one; this is
taking the head as the first segment with regard to the first four
spines These spines are rough and covered with sharp points all
round, and their extremities are fork-like. In the first three
stages they are horny; in the last three stages these spines are
fleshy, and much shorter in proportion than they are in the first
three stages. The color of the spines in the last three stages is
coral-red, yellowish, or black. In the fifth and sixth stages the
spine on the last segment but one is very short.

Here are a few and short notes from my book:

1st stage. Larvæ, about one-third of an inch; head, brown,
shiny, and globulous.

2d stage. Larvæ, dark-brown, almost black; spines, white
at the base, and black at the extremities; head shiny and light
brown.

3d stage. Larve, fine black; head black; white hairs on the
back; spines, whitish, buff, or yellowish at the base, and black at
the extremities; other larvæ of a brown color.

4th stage. Larvæ, black granulated with white; long white
hairs; horns, brown-orange with white tips; on each segment two
brown spots. Spiracles well marked with outer circle, brown, then
black; white and black dot in the center. Anal segment with brown
ribs, the intervals black with white dots; head shining, black with
two brown bands on the face, forming a triangle. Other larvæ
in fourth stage, velvety black, with coral-red spines; others with
black spines.

5th stage. Larvæ, entirely black, with showy eye-like
spiracles, polished black head; other larvæ having the head
brown and black. Larvæ covered with long white hair; spines
black or red. No difference noticed between the fifth and sixth
stages.

One larva on fourth stage was different from all others, and was
described at the British Museum by Mr. W. F. Kirby as follows:
“Larva reddish-brown, sparingly clothed with long slender white
hairs, with four reddish stripes on the face, two rows of red spots
on the back, spiracles surrounded with yellow, black and red rings;
legs red, prolegs black, spotted with red. On segments three and
four are four long coral-red fleshy-branched spines, two on each
segment, below which, on each side, are two rudimentary ones just
behind the head; in front of segment two are four similar
rudimentary orange spines or tubercles; last segment black,
strongly granulated and edges triangularly above and at the sides,
with coral-red; several short rudimentary fleshy spines rising from
the red portion; the last segment but one is reddish above, with a
short red spine in the middle, and the one before it has a long
coral-red spine in the middle similar to those of segments three
and four, but shorter”

As soon as my Imperialis larvæ had hatched, I gave them
various kinds of foliage, plane-tree, oak, pine, sallow, etc. At
first they did not touch any kind of foliage, or they did not seem
to touch any; and I was afraid I should be unable to rear them; but
on the second or third day of their existence, they made up their
minds and decided upon eating the foliage of some of the European
trees I had offered them. They attacked oak, sallow, and pine, but
did not touch the plane-tree leaves. In America, the larvæ of
Imperialis feed on button-wood, which is the American plane-tree
(Platanus occidentalis), yet they did not take to
Platanus orientalis. After a little time I reduced the
foliage to oak and sallow branches, and ultimately gave them the
sallow (Salix caprea) only, on which they thrived very well.
I was pleased with this success; as I had previously read in a
volume of the “Naturalist’s Library” a description of
Ceratocampa imperialis, which ends as follows: “The
caterpillars are not common, and are the most difficult to bring to
perfection in confinement, as they will not eat in that situation;
and, even if they change into a chrysalis, they die afterward.”

Before I finish with C. imperialis, I must mention a
peculiar fact. During the first stage, and, I think, also during
the second, several larvæ disappeared without leaving any
traces. I also saw two smaller larvæ held tight by the hind
claspers of two larger ones. The larvæ thus held and pressed
were perfectly dead when I observed them, and I removed them. My
impression then was that these larvae were carnivorous, not from
this last fact alone, as I had previously observed it with
larvæ of Catocalæ when they are too crowded, but from
the fact that some had disappeared entirely from the glass under
which they were confined. I began to reduce their numbers, and put
six only under each glass, so as to be able to watch them better.
Whether I had made a mistake or not previously to this I do not
exactly know; but from this moment the larvae behaved in a most
exemplary manner, especially when they became larger. They crawled
over each other’s backs without the least sign of spite or
animosity, even when they were in sleep, in which case larvæ
are generally very sensitive and irritable, all were of a most
pacific nature. It is, therefore, with the greatest pleasure that,
for want of sufficient evidence, I withdraw this serious charge of
cannibalism which I first intended to bring against them.

From what has been said respecting the rearing of exotic
silk-producing bombyces, especially tropical species, it must have
been observed that several difficulties, standing in the way of
success, have to be overcome. The moths of North American species
emerge regularly enough during the months of May, June, or July,
but Indian and other tropical species may emerge at any time of the
year, if the weather is mild, as has been the case during this
unusually mild winter of 1881-1882. From the end of December to the
present time (March 14, 1882) moths of four species of Indian
silk-producers, especially Antheræa roylei and
Actias selene, have constantly emerged, but only one or two
at a time. These moths emerged from cocoons received in December
and January last.

It is only when these tropical species shall have been already
reared in Europe that the emergence of the moths will be regular;
then they will be single-brooded in Northern or Central Europe, and
some will very likely become double-brooded in Southern Europe. But
when just imported the moths of these tropical species will always
be uncertain and irregular in their emergence; hence the importance
of having a sufficient number of cocoons so as to meet this
difficulty, i.e., the loss of the moths that emerge prematurely or
irregularly.

Before I conclude, I shall repeat what I already stated in a
previous report, that the sending of live cocoons and pupæ
from India and other distant countries to Europe, can easily be
done, so that they will arrive alive and in good condition, if care
be taken that the boxes containing these live cocoons and
pupæ should not be left in the sun or near a fire (which has
been the case before), and that they should at once be put in a
cool place or in the ice-room of the steamer. The cocoons and
pupæ should be sent from October to March or April, according
to distance, and it is most important to write on the cases,
“Living silkworm cocoons or pupæ, the case to be placed in
the ice room.”

By taking this simple precaution, live cocoons and pupæ,
when newly formed, can be safely sent from very distant countries
of Europe.

To continue these interesting and useful studies, I shall always
be glad to buy any number of live cocoons, or exchange them for
other species, if preferable.

ALFRED WAILLY.

110 Clapham Road, London, S.W.

MOSQUITO OIL.

A correspondent from Sheepshead Bay, a place celebrated for the
size of its mosquitoes and the number of its amateur fishermen,
recommends the following as a very good mixture for anointing the
face and hands while fishing:

Mix. Shake well before using.–Drug. Circular.

THE CATHEDRAL OF BURGOS.

This most remarkable structure, in the province of the same
name, adorns the city of Burgos, 130 miles north of Madrid. The
corner stone was laid July 20, A.D. 1221, by Fernando III., and his
Queen Beatrice, assisted by Archbishop Mauricio. The world is
indebted to Mauricio for the selection of the site, and for the
general idea and planning of what he intended should be, and in
fact now is, the finest temple of worship in the world. This
immense stone structure, embellished with airy columns, pointed
arches, statues, inscriptions, delicate crestings, and flanked by
two needles or aerial arrows, rises toward the heavens, a sublime
invocation of Christian genius.

Illuminated by the morning sun it appears, at a certain
distance, as if the pyramids were floating in space; further on is
seen the marvelous dome of the transept, crowned with eight towers
of chiseled lace-work, over the center of the church.

Pubic worship was held in a portion of the edifice nine years
after the work was begun; from that time onward for three hundred
years, various additional portions were completed. On March 4,
1539, the great transept, built fifty years previous, fell down;
but was soon restored. August 16, 1642, at 6½ o’clock, P.M.,
a furious hurricane overthrew the eight little towers that form the
exterior corner of the dome; but in two years they were replaced,
namely July 19, 1644: the same night the great bells sounded an
alarm of fire, the transept having in some way become ignited. The
activity of the populace, however, prevented the loss of the
edifice, which for a time was in great danger.

The first architect publicly mentioned in the archives of the
edifice was the Master Enrique. He also directed the work of the
Cathedral of Leon. He died July 10, 1277. The second architect was
Juan Perez, who died in 1296, and was buried in the cloister, under
the cathedral. He is believed to have been either the son or
brother of the celebrated Master Pedro Perez, who designed the
Cathedral of Toledo, and who died in 1299. The third architect of
the Cathedral of Burgos was Pedro Sanchez, who directed the work in
1384; after him followed Juan Sanchez de Molina, Martin Fernandez,
the three Colonias, Juan de Vallejo, Diego de Siloe, the elder
Nicolas de Vergara, Matienzo, Pieredonda, Gil, Regines, and others.
It is worthy of note that a number of Moorish architects were
employed on the work during the 14th and 15th centuries, such as
Mohomad, Yunce, the Master Hali, the Master Mahomet de Aranda, the
Master Yunza de Carrion, the Master Carpenter Brahen. Among the
figure sculptors employed were Juan Sanchez de Fromesta, the
Masters Gil and Copin, the famous Felipe de Vigardi, Juan de
Lancre, Anton de Soto, Juan de Villareal, Pedro de Colindres, and
many others. Our engraving is from a recent number of La
Ilustracion Espanola y Americana.

THE CATHEDRAL OF BURGOS, SPAIN.–PHOTOGRAPH BY DE
LAURENT.–DRWAWING BY M. HEBERT.

THE PANAMA CANAL.

By MANUEL EISSLER, M.E., of San Francisco, Cal.

I.

HISTORICAL NOTES.

When Cortez, in the year 1530, made the observation that the two
great oceans could be seen from the peaks of mountains, he, in
those remote days, preoccupied himself with the question to cut
through the Cordilleras.

Therefore, the idea of an interoceanic canal is by no means a
modern one, as travelers and navigators observed that there was a
great depression among the hills of the Isthmus of Panama. As
Professor T.E. Nurse, of the U.S.N., says in his memoirs:

“This problem of interoceanic communication has been justly said
to possess not only practical value, but historical grandeur. It
clearly links itself back to the era of the conquest of Cortez,
three and a half centuries.” [1] It is a problem which has been
left for our modern era to solve, but nevertheless its history is
thereby rendered still more interesting, having needed so many
centuries to bring it to an issue.

[Footnote 1: From Prof. Nurse’s historical essay. See Survey of
Nicaragua Canal, by Com. Lull.]

Spain, which acquired through her Columbus a new empire, lying
near, as it was supposed, to the riches of Asia, could not be
indifferent, from the moment of her discoveries, to the means of
crossing these lands to yet richer ones beyond.

India, from the days of Alexander and of the geographers, Mela,
Strabo, and Ptolemy, was the land of promise, the home of the
spices, the inexhaustible fountain of wealth. The old routes of
commerce thither had been closed one by one to the Christians; the
overland trade had fallen into the hands of the Arabs; and at the
fall of Constantinople, 1453, the commerce of the Black Sea and of
the Bosphorus, the last of the old routes to the East, finally
failed the Christian world. Yet even beyond the fame of the East,
which tradition had brought down from Greek and Roman, much more
had the crusaders kindled for Asia (Cathay) and its riches an ardor
not easily suppressed in men’s minds.

The error of the Spanish Admiral in supposing that the eastern
shores of Asia extended 240 degrees east of Spain, or to the
meridian of the modern San Diego, in California–this error,
insisted on in his dispatches and adopted and continued by his
followers, still further animated the earlier Spanish sovereigns
and the men whom they sent into the New World to reach Asia by a
short and easy route.

Nobody in Europe dreamt that Columbus had discovered a new
continent, and when Balbao, in 1513, discovered the South Sea, then
it was known that Asia lay beyond, and navigators directed their
course there. On his deathbed, in 1506, Columbus still held to his
delusion that he had reached Zipanga, Japan. In 1501 he was
exploring the coast of Veragua, in Central America, still looking
for the Ganges, and announcing his being informed on this coast of
a sea which would bear ships to the mouth of that river, while
about the same time the Cabots, under Henry VII., were taking
possession of Newfoundland, believing it to be part of the island
coast of China.

Although these were grave blunders in geography and in
navigation, the discoveries really made in the rich tropical zones,
the acquirement of a new world, and the rich products continually
reaching Europe from it, for a time aroused Spain from her
lethargy. The world opened east and west. The new routes poured
their spices, silks, and drugs through new channels into all the
Teutonic countries. The strong purposes of having near access to
the East were deepened and perpetuated doubly strong, by the
certainties before men’s eyes of what had been attained.

Balbao, in 1513, gained from a height on the Isthmus of Panama
the first proof of its separation from Asia; and Magellan enters
the South Sea at the southern extremity of the country, now first
proven to be thus separate and a continent. Men in those days began
to think that creation was doubled, and that such discovered lands
must be separate from India, China, and Japan. And the very
successes of the Portuguese under Vasco da Gama, bringing from
their eastern course the expectancy of Asia’s wealth, intensely
excited the Spaniards to renew their western search.

The Portuguese, led around the Cape of Good Hope, had brought
home vast treasures from the East, while the Spanish discoverers,
as yet, had not reached the countries either of Montezuma or of the
Inca. Their success “troubled the sleep of the Spaniards.”

Everything, then, of personal ambition and national pride, the
thirst for gold, the zeal of religious proselytism, and the cold
calculations of state policy, now concurred in the disposition to
sacrifice what Spain already had of most value on the American
shores in order to seize upon a greater good, the Indies, still
supposed to be near at hand. And since it was now certain that the
new lands were not themselves Asia, the next aim was to find the
secret of the narrow passage across them which must lead thither.
The very configuration of the isthmus strengthened the belief in
the existence of such a passage by the number of its openings,
which seemed to invite entrance in the expectancy that some one of
them must extend across the narrow breadth of land.

For this the Spanish government, in 1514, gave secret orders to
D’Avilla, Governor of Castila del Oro, and to Juan de Solis, the
navigator, to determine whether Castila del Oro were an island, and
to send to Cuba a chart of the coast, if any strait were possible.
For this, De Solis visited Nicaragua and Honduras; and later, led
far to the south, perished in the La Plata. For this, Magellan
entered the straits, which, strangely enough, he affirmed before
setting out, that he “would enter,” since he “had seen them marked
out on the geographer Martin Behaim’s globe.” For this, Cortez sent
out his expeditions on both coasts, exposing his own life and
treasure, and sending home to the emperor, in his second relation,
a map of the entire Gulf of Mexico (Dispatch from Cortez to Charles
V., October 15, 1524). For this great purpose, and in full
expectancy of success in it, the whole coast of the New World on
each side, from Newfoundland on the northeast, curving westward on
the south, around the whole sweep of the Gulf of Mexico, thence to
Magellan’s Straits, and thence through them up the Pacific to the
Straits of Behring, was searched and researched with diligence.
“Men could not get accustomed,” says Humboldt, “to the idea that
the continent extended uninterruptedly both so far north and
south.” Hence all these large, numerous, and persevering
expeditions by the European powers.

Among them, by priority of right and by her energy, was Spain.
The great emperor was urgent on the conqueror of Mexico, and on all
in subordinate positions in New Spain, to solve the secret of the
strait. All Spain was awakened to it. “How majestic and fair was
she,” says Chevalier, “in the sixteenth century; what daring, what
heroism and perseverance! Never had the world seen such energy,
activity, or good fortune. Hers was a will that regarded no
obstacles. Neither rivers, deserts, nor mountains far higher than
those in Europe, arrested her people. They built grand cities, they
drew their fleets, as in a twinkling of the eye, from the very
forests. A handful of men conquered empires. They seemed a race of
giants or demi-gods. One would have supposed that all the work
necessary to bind together climates and oceans would have been done
at the word of the Spaniards as by enchantment, and since nature
had not left a passage through the center of America, no matter, so
much the better for the glory of the human race; they would make it
up by artificial communication. What, indeed, was that for men like
them? It were done at a word. Nothing else was left for them to
conquer, and the world was becoming too small for them.”

Certainly, had Spain remained what she then was, what had been
in vain sought from nature would have been supplied by man. A canal
or several canals would have been built to take the place of the
long-desired strait. Her men of science urged it. In 1551, Gomara,
the author of the “History of the Indies,” proposed the union of
the oceans by three of the very same lines toward which, to this
hour, the eye turns with hope.

“It is true,” said Gomara, “that mountains obstruct these
passes, but if there are mountains there are also hands; let but
the resolve be made, there will be no want of means; the Indies, to
which the passage will be made, will supply them. To a king of
Spain, with the wealth of the Indies at his command, when the
object to be obtained is the spice trade, what is possible is
easy.

But the sacred fire suddenly burned itself out in Spain. The
peninsula had for its ruler a prince who sought his glory in
smothering free thought among his own people, and in wasting his
immense resources in vain efforts to repress it also outside of his
own dominions through all Europe. From that hour, Spain became
benumbed and estranged from all the advances of science and art, by
means of which other nations, and especially England, developed
their true greatness.

Even after France had shown, by her canal of the south, that
boats could ascend and pass the mountain crests, it does not appear
that the Spanish government seriously wished to avail itself of a
like means of establishing any communication between her sea of the
Antilles and the South Sea. The mystery enveloping the
deliberations of the council of the Indies has not always remained
so profound that we could not know what was going on in that body.
The Spanish government afterward opened up to Humboldt free access
to its archives, and in these he found several memoirs on the
possibility of a union between the two oceans; but he says that in
no one of them did he find the main point, the height of the
elevations on the isthmus, sufficiently cleared up, and he could
not fail to remark that the memoirs were exclusively French or
English. Spain herself gave it no thought. Since the glorious age
of Balbao among the people, indeed, the project of a canal was in
every one’s thoughts. In the very wayside talks, in the inns of
Spain, when a traveler from the New World chanced to pass, after
making him tell of the wonders of Lima and Mexico, of the death of
the Inca, Atahualpa, and the bloody defeat of the Aztecs, and after
asking his opinion of El Dorado, the question was always about the
two oceans, and what great things would happen if they could
succeed in joining them.

During the whole of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,
Spain had need of the best mode of conveyance for her treasures
across the isthmus. Yet those from Peru came by the miserable route
from Panama to the deadliest of climates. Porto Bello and her
European wares for her colonies toiled up the Chagres river, while
the roughest of communication farther north connected the Chimalapa
and the Guasacoalcos in Mexico, and the trade there was limited
sternly to but one port on each side. As late as Humboldt’s visit,
in 1802, when remarking upon the “unnatural modes of communication”
by which, through painful delays, the immense treasures of the New
World passed from Acapulco, Guayaquil, and Lima, to Spain, he says:
“These will soon cease whenever an active government, willing to
protect commerce, shall construct a good road from Panama to Porto
Bello. The aristocratic nonchalance of Spain, and her fear to open
to strangers the way to the countries explored for her own profit,
only kept those countries closed.” The court forbade, on pain of
death, the use of plans at different times proposed. They wronged
their own colonies by representing the coasts as dangerous and the
rivers impassable. On the presentation of a memoir for improving
the route through Tehuantepec, by citizens of Oaxaca, as late as
1775, an order was issued forbidding the subject to be mentioned.
The memorialists were censured as intermeddlers, and the viceroy
fell under the sovereign’s displeasure for having seemed to favor
the plans.

The great isthmus was, however, further explored by the Spanish
government for its own purposes; the recesses were traversed, and
the lines of communication which we know to-day were then
noted.

In addition to the fact that comparatively little was explored
north or south of that which early became the main highway, the
Panama route, there is confirmation here of the truth that Spain
concealed and even falsified much of her generally accurately made
surveys. No stronger proof of this need be asked than that which
Alcedo gives in connection with the proposal by Gogueneche, the
Biscayan pilot, to open communication by the Atrato and the Napipi.
“The Atrato,” says the historian, “is navigable for many leagues,
but the navigation of it is prohibited under pain of death, without
the exception of any person whatever.”

The Isthmus of Nicaragua has always invited serious
consideration for a ship canal route by its very marked physical
characteristics, among which is chiefly its great depression
between two nearly parallel ranges of hills, which depression is
the basin of its large lake, a natural and all-sufficient feeder
for such a canal.

In 1524 a squadron of discovery sent out by Cortez on the coast
of the South Sea, announced the existence of a fresh water sea at
only three leagues from the coast; a sea which, they said, rose and
fell alternately, communicating, it was believed, with the Sea of
the North. Various reconnoissances were therefore made, under the
idea that here the easy transit would be established between Spain
and the spice lands beyond.

It was even laid down on some of the old maps, that this open
communication by water existed from sea to sea; while later maps
represented a river, under the name of Rio Partido, as giving one
of its branches to the Pacific Ocean and the other to Lake
Nicaragua. An exploration by the engineer, Bautista Antonelli,
under the orders of Philip II., corrected the false idea of an open
strait.

In the eighteenth century a new cause arose for jealousy of her
neighbors and for keeping her northern part of the isthmus from
their view. In the years 1779 and 1780 the serious purposes of the
English government for the occupancy of Nicaragua, awakened the
solicitudes of the Spanish government for this section. The English
colonels, Hodgson and Lee, had secretly surveyed the lake and
portions of the country, forwarding their plans to London, as the
basis of an armed incursion, to renew such as had already been made
by the superintendent of the Mosquito coast, forty years before,
when, crossing the isthmus, he took possession of Realejo, on the
Pacific, seeking to change its name to Port Edward. In 1780,
Captain, afterward Lord Nelson, under orders from Admiral Sir Peter
Parker, convoyed a force of two thousand men to San Juan de
Nicaragua, for the conquest of the country.

In his dispatches, Nelson said: “In order to give facility to
the great object of government, I intend to possess the lake of
Nicaragua, which, for the present, may be looked upon as the inland
Gibraltar of Spanish America. As it commands the only water pass
between the oceans, its situation must ever render it a principal
post to insure passage to the Southern Ocean, and by our possession
of it Spanish America is severed into two.”

The passage of San Juan was found to be exceedingly difficult;
for the seamen, although assisted by the Indians from Bluetown,
scarcely forced their boats up the shoals. Nelson bitterly
regretted that the expedition had not arrived in January, in place
of the close of the dry season. It was a disastrous failure,
costing the English the lives of one thousand five hundred men, and
nearly losing to them their Nelson.

At this period, Charles III., of Spain, sent a commission to
explore the country. These commissioners reported unfavorably as
regarded the route; but fearing further intrusion from England,
forbade all access to the coast; even falsifying and suppressing
its charts and permanently injuring the navigation of the San Juan
and the Colorado by obstructions in their beds.

It is, however, a relief here to learn that when Humboldt
visited the New World, he could say: “The time is passed when
Spain, through a jealous policy, refused to other nations a
thoroughfare across the possessions of which they kept the whole
world so long in ignorance. Accurate maps of the coasts, and even
minute plans of military positions, are published.” It is also true
that the Spanish Cortes, in 1814, decreed the opening of a canal, a
decree deferred and never executed.

It was reserved for our century to see this great project
carried into execution, and it is but just that as a chronicler of
events I should connect with the Canal of Panama the name of a
family who have done much to bring the scheme, so to say, into
practical execution.

As early as the year 1836, Mr. Joly de Sabla turned his views
toward the cutting of a canal across the Isthmus of Panama. He
resided at the time on the Island of Guadeloupe, one of the French
West India Islands, where he possessed large estates. Of a high
social position, the representative of one of France’s ancient and
noble families, with large means at his disposal and of an
enterprising spirit much in advance of his time, he was well
calculated to carry out such a grand scheme.

He soon set about procuring from the Government of New Granada
(now Colombia) the necessary grants and concessions, but much time
and many efforts were spent before these could be brought to a
satisfactory condition, and it was not until the year 1841 that he
could again visit the Isthmus, bringing with him this time, on a
vessel chartered by him for the purpose, a corps of engineers and
employes, medical staff, etc., etc. After two years spent in
exploring and surveying a country at that time very imperfectly
known, he returned to Guadeloupe to find his residence and most of
his estates destroyed by the terrible earthquake that visited the
island in February, 1843.

Undaunted by this unexpected and severe blow, Mr. De Sabla
persisted in his efforts, and in the same year obtained from the
French government the establishment of a Consulate at Panama to
insure protection to the future canal company, and also the sending
of two government engineers of high repute (Messrs. Garella and
Courtines), to verify the surveys already made and complete
them.

After receiving the respective reports of Garella and Courtines,
Mr. De Sabla decided upon first constructing a railway across the
Isthmus, postponing the cutting of the canal until this
indispensable auxiliary should have rendered it practicable and
profitable. He then presented the scheme in that shape to his
friends in Paris and London, and formed a syndicate of thirteen
members, among whom we may recall the names of the well known
Bankers Caillard of Paris, and Baimbridge of London, of Sir John
Campbell, then Vice President of the Oriental Steamship Company, of
Viscount Chabrol de Chameane, and of Courtines, the exploring
engineer.

A new contract was then entered upon with New Granada in June,
1847, and early in 1848, the Syndicate was about to forward to the
Isthmus the expedition which was to execute the preliminary works,
while the company was being finally organized in Paris, and its
stock placed.

The success of the undertaking seemed to be assured beyond
peradventure, when the unexpected breaking out of the French
revolution in February, 1848, dashed all hopes to the ground.
Several of the prominent financiers engaged in the affair, taken by
surprise by the suddenness of the revolution, had to suspend their
payments and of course to withdraw from the Panama Canal and
railroad scheme. Others withdrew from contagious fear and timidity.
Finally the term fixed for carrying out certain obligations of the
contract expired without their fulfillment by the company, and the
concession was forfeited. Another contract was almost immediately
applied for and granted with unseemly haste by the President of New
Granada to Messrs. Aspinwall, Stephens and Chauncey, which resulted
in the construction of the actual Panama Railroad.

These gentlemen acted fairly in the matter, and in 1849, calling
Mr. De Sabla to New York, offered him to join them in the new
scheme. Unfortunately they had decided upon placing the Atlantic
terminus of the railroad upon the low and swampy mud Island of
Manzanillo, while Mr. De Sabla insisted on having it on the
mainland on the dry and healthy northern shore of the Bay of Limon.
They could not come to an understanding on this point, and Mr. De
Sabla, whose experience and foresight taught him the dangers that
would result to the shipping from the unprotected situation of the
projected part (now Colon–Aspinwall), and who well knew the
insalubrity of the malarial swamp constituting the Island of
Manzanillo, withdrew forever from the undertaking, after having
devoted to it without any benefit to himself, the best years of his
life and a large portion of his private means.

One of his sons, Mr. Theodore J. de Sabla, after having actively
co-operated with Lieutenant Commander Wyse, in the original scheme
of the present canal company, is now one of Count de Lesseps’s
representatives in the City of New York, and a director of the
Panama Railroad Company.

IMPROVED AVERAGING MACHINE.

At the recent meeting of the American Society of Civil
Engineers, in this city, a paper on an improved form of the
averaging machine was read by its inventor, Mr. Wm. S.
Auchincloss.

The ingenious method by which the weight of the platform is
eliminated from the result of the work of the machine was exhibited
and explained. This is accomplished by counterweights sliding
automatically in tubes, so that in any position the unloaded
platform is always in equilibrium. Any combination of
representative weights can then be placed on this platform at the
proper points of the scale. By then drawing the platform to its
balancing point, the location of the center of gravity will at once
be indicated on the scale by the pointer over the central
trunnion.

The weights may be arranged on a decimal system, with
intermediate weights for closer working, or they may be made so as
to express multiples or factors.

Each machine is provided with a number of differing scales,
divided suitably for various purposes. When the problem is one of
time, the scale represents months and days; for problems of
proportion, the zero of the scale is at the center of its length;
for problems for the location of center of gravity of a system from
a fixed point, the zero is at the extremity of the scale, etc.

The machine exhibited has sixty-three transverse grooves, which,
by arrangement of weights, can be made to serve the purposes of two
hundred and fifty-two grooves.

The machine is 29 inches in length, 9 inches in width, and
weighs about 13 pounds.

With the machine can be found average dates, as, for instance,
of purchases and of payments extending over irregular periods; also
average prices, as for “futures,” in comman use among cotton
brokers. The problem of average haul, so often presented to the
engineer, can be solved with ease and great celerity. Practical
examples of the solution of these and a number of other problems
involving proportions or averages were given by the author.

COMPOUND BEAM ENGINE.

The engine represented in Figs. 1 to 4 herewith is intended for
a mill, and is of 530 to 800 indicated horse-power, the pressure
being seven atmospheres, and the number of revolutions forty-five
per minute. As will be seen by the drawing each cylinder is placed
in a separate foundation plate, the two connecting rods acting upon
cranks keyed at right angles upon the shaft, W, which carries the
drum, T. The high-pressure cylinder, C, is 760 mm diameter, the low
pressure cylinder being 1,220 mm. diameter, and the piston speed
2.28 m. The drum, which also fulfills the purpose of a fly wheel,
is provided with twenty-eight grooves for ropes of 50 mm. diameter.
With the exception of the cylinders, pistons, valves, and valve
chests, the engines are of the same size, corresponding to the
equal maximum pressures which come into action in each cylinder,
and in this respect alone the engine differs in principle from an
ordinary twin machine.

BORSIG’S IMPROVED COPOUND BEAM ENGINE. FIG. 1

The steam passes from the stop-valve, A, Fig. 4, through the
steam pipe, D, to the high pressure cylinder, C, and having done
its work, goes into the receiver, R, where it is heated. From the
receiver it is led into the low-pressure cylinder, C¹,
and thence into the condenser. Provision is made for working both
engines independently with direct steam when desired, suitable gear
being provided for supplying steam of the proper pressure to the
condensing engine, so that each engine shall perform exactly the
same amount of work. The starting gear consists of a hand-wheel, H,
which controls the stop valve, A, and of another h, which opens the
valves for the jackets of the cylinders and receiver. The
hand-wheel, h¹ and h², govern the valves,
which turn the steam direct into the two cylinders. There are also
lever, g, which opens the principal injection cock, H¹,
and the auxiliary injection cock, H², the function of
which is to assist in forming a speedy vacuum, when the engine has
been standing for some time.

BORSIG’S IMPROVED COPOUND BEAM ENGINE. FIG. 2

The drum is 6.08 m. diameter, the breadth being 2.04 m., with a
total weight of 33,000 kilos. The beams are of cast iron with
balance weights cast on. The connecting rods and cross beams are of
wrought iron, and the cranks, crank shaft, piston rods, valve rods,
etc., of steel. The bed-plate for the main shaft bearings are cast
in one piece with the standards for the beam, which are connected
firmly together by the center bearing, M M¹, which is
cast in one piece, and also by the diagonal bracing piece, N
N¹. The construction of the cylinder and valve chests is
shown in Fig. 1. The working cylinder is in the form of a liner to
the cylinder, thus forming the steam jacket, with a view to future
renewal. This lining has a flange at the lower part for bolting it
down, being made steam-tight by the intervention of a copper
packing ring. There is a similar ring at the upper part which is
pressed down by the cylinder cover. The latter is cast hollow and
strengthened by ribs. The pistons are provided with cast iron
double self-expanding packing rings. For preventing accidents by
condensed water, spring safety valves, ss and s¹
s¹, are connected to the valve chests. The valve gear,
which is arranged in the same manner for both cylinders, is
actuated by shafts, w and w¹, rotated by toothed wheels
as shown. Motion is communicated from the way-shafts, w and
w¹, by the eccentrics, and the eccentric rods,
e¹ e² e³ e⁴, and the
levers and rods belonging thereto, to the short steam valve rocking
shafts levers, f¹ f² f³
f⁴, and the exhaust valve rocking shafts, k¹
k² k³ k⁴, the bearings of which
are carried on brackets above the valve chests, which, being
furnished with tappet levers, raise and lower the valves.

BORSIG’S IMPROVED COPOUND BEAM ENGINE. FIG. 3

The valves are conical, double-seated, and of cast iron, and the
inlet and outlet valves are placed the one above the other, the
seats being also conically ground and inserted through the cover of
the valve chest. Both inlet and outlet valves are actuated from
above, and are removable upward, an arrangement which admits of the
valves being more easily examined than when the two are actuated
from different sides of the valve chest. To carry out this idea the
inlet valves are furnished with two guides, which, passing upward
through the stuffing-box, are attached to a hard steel cross piece,
which receives the action of a bent catch turning on a pin attached
to the levers, t₁, t₂, t₃,
t₄. The exhaust valves, on the contrary, have only one
guide each, which passes upward through the seat of the admission
valve, through the valve itself by means of a collar, and through
the stuffing-box. It is furnished with hard steel armatures,
through which the levers, z₁ z₂, Fig. 3, act
upon the exhaust valves.

BORSIG’S IMPROVED COPOUND BEAM ENGINE. FIG. 4

The governor effects the acceleration or retardation of the
loosening of the catch actuating the steam valve by means of hard
steel projections on the shaft, v₁, the position of
which, by means of levers, is regulated by the governor, which in
its highest position does not allow the lifting of the inlet valve
at all. The regulation of the expansion by the governor from 0 to
0.45 takes place generally only in the case of the high-pressure
cylinder, while the low-pressure cylinder has a fixed rate of
expansion. Only when the low-pressure cylinder is required to work
with steam direct from the boiler is the governor applied to
regulate the expansion in it. An exact action in the valve guides
and a regular descent is secured by furnishing them with small dash
pot pistons working in cylinders. Into them the air is readily
admitted by a small India-rubber valve, but the passage out again
is controlled at pleasure.–The Engineer.

TO DETECT ALKALIES IN NITRATE OF SILVER–Stolba recommends the
salt to be dissolved in the smallest quantity of water, and to add
to the filtered solution hydrofluosilicic acid, drop by drop.
Should a turbidity appear an alkaline salt is present. But should
the liquid remain limpid, an equal volume of alcohol is to be
added, which will cause a precipitate in case the slightest trace
of an alkali be present.

POWER HAMMERS WITH MOVABLE FULCRUM.

[Footnote: Paper read before the Institution of Mechanical
Engineers.–Engineering.]

By DANIEL LONGWORTH, of London.

The movable-fulcrum power hammer was designed by the writer
about five and a half years ago, to meet a want in the market for a
power hammer which, while under the complete control of only one
workman, could produce blows of varying forces without alteration
in the rapidity with which they were given. It was also necessary
that the vibration and shock of the hammer head should not be
transmitted to the driving mechanism, and that the latter should be
free from noise and liability to derangement. The various uses to
which the movable fulcrum hammers have been put, and their success
in working[1]–as well as the importance of the general subject
which includes them, namely, the substitution of stored power for
human effort–form the author’s excuse for now occupying the time
of the meeting.

[Footnote 1: The hammers have been for some years used by A.
Bamlett, of Thirsk; the American Tool Company, of Antwerp; Messrs.
W.&T. Avery, of Birmingham; Pullar & Sons, of Perth; Salter
& Co., of West Bromwich; Vernon Hope & Co., of Wednesbury,
etc.; and also for stamps by Messrs. Collins & Co., of
Birmingham, etc.]

Until these hammers were introduced, no satisfactory method had
been devised for altering the force of the blow. The plan generally
adopted was to have either a tightening pulley acting on the
driving belt, a friction driving clutch, or a simple brake on the
driving pulley, put in action by the hand or foot of the workman.
Heavy blows were produced by simply increasing the number of blows
per minute (and therefore the velocity), and light blows by
diminishing it–a plan which was quite contrary to the true
requirements of the case. To prevent the shock of the hammer head
being communicated to the driving gear, an elastic connection was
usually formed between them, consisting of a steel spring or a
cushion of compressed air. With the steel spring, the variation
which could be given in the thickness of the work under the hammer
was very limited, owing to the risk of breaking the spring; but
with the compressed air or pneumatic connection the work might vary
considerably in thickness, say from 0 to 8 in. with a hammer
weighing 400lb. The pneumatic hammers had a crank, with a
connecting rod or a slotted crossbar on the piston-rod, a piston
and a cylinder which formed the hammer-head. The piston-rod was
packed with a cup leather, or with ordinary packing, the latter
required to be adjusted with the greatest nicety, otherwise the
piston struck the hammer before lifting it, or else the force of
the blow was considerably diminished. As the piston moved with the
same velocity during its upward and downward strokes, and, in the
latter, had to overtake and outrun the hammer falling under the
action of gravity, the air was not compressed sufficiently to give
a sharp blow at ordinary working speeds, and a much heavier hammer
was required than if the velocity of the piston had been
accelerated to a greater degree.

As it is impossible in the limits of this paper to describe all
the forms in which the movable fulcrum hammers have been arranged,
two types only will be selected taken from actual work; namely, a
small planishing hammer, and a medium-sized forging hammer.[1]

[Footnote 1: To the makers, Messrs. J. Scott Rawlings & Co,
of Birmingham, the author is indebted for the working drawings of
these hammers.]

The small planishing hammer, Figs. 1 to 3, next page, is used
for copper, tin, electro, and iron plate, for scythes, and other
thin work, for which it is sufficient to adjust the force of the
blow once for all by hand, according to the thickness and quality
of the material before commencing to hammer it. The hammer weighs
15 lb., and has a stroke variable from 2½ in. to 9½
in., and makes 250 blows per minute. The driving shaft, A, is
fitted with fast and loose belt pulleys, the belt fork being
connected to the pedal, P, which when pressed down by the foot of
the workman, slides the driving belt on to the fast pulley and
starts the hammer; when the foot is taken off the pedal, the weight
on the latter moves the belt quickly on to the loose pulley, and
the hammer is stopped. The flywheel on the shaft, A, is weighted on
one side, so that it causes the hammer to stop at the top of its
stroke after working; thus enabling the material to be placed on
the anvil before starting the hammer. The movable fulcrum, B,
consists of a stud, free to slide in a slot, C, in the framing, and
held in position by a nut and toothed washer. On the fulcrum is
mounted the socket, D, through which passes freely a round bar or
rocking lever, E, attached at one end to the main piston, F, of the
hammer, G, and having at the other extremity a long slide, H,
mounted upon it. This slide is carried on the crank-pin, I,
fastened to the disk, J, attached to the driving shaft, A. The
crank-pin, in revolving, reciprocates the rocking lever, E, and
main piston, F, and through the medium of the pneumatic connection,
the hammer, G. The slide, H, in revolving with the crank-pin, also
moves backward and forward along the rocking lever, approaching the
fulcrum, B, during the down-stroke of the hammer, and receding from
it during the up-stroke. By this means the velocity of the hammer
is considerably accelerated in its downward stroke, causing a sharp
blow to be given while it is gently raised during its upward
stroke.

To alter the force of the blow, the hammer, G, is made to rise
and fall through a greater or less distance, as may be required,
from the fixed anvil block, K, after the manner of the smith giving
heavy or light blows on his anvil. It is evident that this special
alteration of the stroke could not be obtained by altering the
throw of a simple crank and connecting rod; but by placing the
slot, C, parallel with the direction of the rocking lever, E, when
the latter is in its lowest position, with the hammer resting on
the anvil, and with the crank at the top of its stroke, this lowest
position of the rocking lever and hammer is made constant, no
matter what position the fulcrum, B, may have in the slot, C. To
obtain a short stroke, and consequently a light blow, the fulcrum
is moved in the slot toward the hammer, G; and to produce a long
stroke and heavy blow the fulcrum is moved in the opposite
direction.

Fig. 3 gives the details of the pneumatic connection between the
main piston and the hammer, in which packing and packing glands are
dispensed with. The hammer, G, is of cast steel, bored out to fit
the main piston, F, the latter being also bored out to receive an
internal piston, L. A pin, M, passing freely through slots in the
main piston, F, connects rigidly the internal piston, L, with the
hammer, G. When the main piston is raised by the rocking lever, the
air in the space, X, between the main and internal pistons, is
compressed, and forms an elastic medium for lifting the hammer;
when the main piston is moved down, the air in the space, Y, is
compressed in its turn, and the hammer forced down to give the
blow. Two holes drilled in the side of the hammer renew the air
automatically in the spaces, X and Y, at each blow of the
hammer.

Figs. 4 to 6, on the next page, represent the medium size
forging hammer, for making forgings in dies, swaging and tilting
bars, and plating edged tools, etc.

The hammer weighs 1 cwt., has a stroke variable from 4 in. to
14½ in., and gives 200 blows per minute; the compressed air
space between the main piston and the hammer is sufficiently long
to admit forgings up to 3 in. thick under the hammer.

To make forgings economically, it is necessary to bring them
into the desired form by a few heavy blows, while the material is
still in a highly plastic condition, and then to finish them by a
succession of lighter blows. The heavy blows should be given at a
slower rate than the lighter ones, to allow time for turning the
work in the dies or on the anvil, and so to avoid the risk of
spoiling it. In forging with the steam hammer the workman requires
an assistant, who, with the lever of the valve motion in hand,
obeys his directions as to starting and stopping, heavy or light
blows, slow or quick blows, etc; the quickest speed attainable
depending on the speed of the arm of the assistant. In the
movable-fulcrum forging hammer the operations of starting and
stopping, and the giving of heavy or light blows, are under the
complete control of one foot of the workman, who requires therefore
no assistant; and by properly proportioning the diameter of the
driving pulley and size of belt to the hammer, the heavy blows are
given at a slower rate than the light ones, owing to the greater
resistance which they offer to the driving belt.

In this hammer the pneumatic connection, the arrangements for
the starting, stopping, and holding up of the hammer, as well as
those for communicating the motion of the crank-pin to the hammer
by means of a rocking lever and movable fulcrum, are similar to
those in the planishing hammer, differing only in the details,
which provide double guides and bearings for the principal working
parts.

LONGWORTH’S POWER HAMMER WITH MOVABLE FULCRUM.

The movable fulcrum, B, Figs. 4 and 5, consists of two
adjustable steel pins, attached to the fulcrum lever, Q, and turned
conical where they fit in the socket, D. The fulcrum lever is
pivoted on a pin, R, fixed in the framing of the machine, and is
connected at its lower extremity to the nut, S, in gear with the
regulating screw, T. The to-and-fro movement of the fulcrum lever,
Q, by which heavy or light blows are given by the hammer, is placed
under the control of the foot of the workman, in the following
manner: U is a double-ended forked lever, pivoted in the center,
and having one end embracing the starting pedal, P, and the other
end the small belt which connects the fast pulley on the driving
shaft, A, with the loose pulley, V, or the reversing pulleys, W and
X. These are respectivly connected with the bevel wheels,
W₁, and X₁, gearing into and placed at
opposite sides of the bevel wheel, Z, on the regulating screw in
connection with the fulcrum lever. When the workman places his foot
on the pedal, P, to start the hammer, he finds his foot within the
fork of the lever, U; and by slightly turning his foot round on his
heel he can readily move the forked lever to right or left, so
shifting the small belt on to either of the reversing pulleys, W or
X, and causing the regulating screw, T, to revolve in either
direction. The fulcrum lever is thus caused to move forward or
backward, to give light or heavy blows. By moving the forked lever
into mid position, the small belt is shifted into its usual place
on the loose pulley, V, and the fulcrum remains at rest. To fix the
lightest and heaviest blow required for each kind of work,
adjustable stops are provided, and are mounted on a rod, Y,
connected to an arm of the forked lever. When the nut of the
regulating screw comes in contact with either of the stops, the
forked lever is forced into mid position, in spite of the pressure
of the foot of the workman, and thus further movement of the
fulcrum lever, in the direction which it was taking, is prevented.
The movable fulcrum can also be adjusted by hand to any required
blow, when the hammer is stopped, by means of a handle in
connection with the regulating screw.

In conclusion the author wishes to direct attention to the fact,
that in many of our largest manufactories, particularly in the
midland counties, foot and hand labor for forging and stamping is
still employed to an enormous extent. Hundreds of “Olivers,” with
hammers up to 60 lb. in weight, are laboriously put in motion by
the foot of the workman, at a speed averaging fifty blows per
minute; while large numbers of stamps, worked by hand and foot, and
weighing up to 120 lb., are also employed. The low first cost of
the foot hammers and stamps, combined with the system of piece
work, and the desire of manufacturers to keep their methods of
working secret, have no doubt much to do with the small amount of
progress that has been made; although in a few cases competition,
particularly with the United States of America, has forced the
manufacturer to throw the Oliver and hand-stamp aside, and to
employ steam power hammers and stamps. The writer believes that in
connection with forging and stamping processes there is still a
wide and profitable field for the ingenuity and capital of
engineers, who choose to occupy themselves with this minor, but not
the less useful, branch of mechanics.

THE BICHEROUX SYSTEM OF FURNACES APPLIED TO THE PUDDLING OF
IRON.

Since the year 1872, the large iron works at Ougrée, near
Liege, have applied the Bicheroux system of furnaces to heating,
and, since the year 1877, to puddling. The results that have been
obtained in this last-named application are so satisfactory that it
appears to us to be of interest to speak of the matter in some
detail.

The apparatus, which is shown in the opposite page, consists of
three distinct parts: (1) a gas generator; (2) a mixing chamber
into which the gases and air are drawn by the natural draught, and
wherein the combustion of the gases begins; and (3) a furnace, or
laboratory (not represented in the figure), wherein the combustion
is nearly finished, and wherein take place the different reactions
of puddling. These three parts are given dimensions that vary
according to the composition of the different coals, and they may
be made to use any sort of coal, even the fine and schistose kinds
which would not be suitable for ordinary puddling. The gases and
the air necessary for the combustion of these being brought
together at different temperatures, and being drawn into the mixing
chamber through the same chimney, it will be seen that the
dimensions of the flues that conduct them should vary with the kind
of coal used; and the manner in which the gases are brought
together is not a matter of indifference.

THE BICHEROUX SYSTEM OF FURNACE.

Vertical Section, and Horizontal Section through MNOPQR

The gas generator consists of a hopper, A, into which drops,
through small apertures a, the coal piled up on the platform, D.
These apertures are closed with coal or bricks. The bottom of the
generator is formed of a small standing grate. The coal, on falling
upon a mass in a state of ignition, distills and becomes
transformed into coke, which gradually slides down over a grate to
produce afterward, through its own combustion, a distillation of
the coal following it. But as these are features found in all
generators we will not dwell upon them.

The gases that are produced flow through a long horizontal flue,
B, into a vertical conduit, E, into which there debouches at the
upper part a series of small orifices, F, that conduct the air that
has been heated. The gases are inflamed, and traverse the furnace c
(not shown in the cut), from whence they go to the chimney. Before
the air is allowed to reach the intervening chamber it is made to
pass into the sole of the furnace and into the walls of the
chamber, so that to the advantage of having the air heated there is
joined the additional one of having those portions of the furnace
cooled that cannot be heated with impunity.

The incompletely burned gases that escape from the furnace are
utilized in heating the boilers of the establishment. The
dimensions given these furnaces vary greatly according to the
charge to be used. All the results at Ougrée have been
obtained with 400 kilogramme charges, and the dimensions of the gas
generators have been calculated for Six-Bonniers coal, which does
not yield over 20 per cent. of gas.

The advantages of this system, which permits of expediting all
the operations of puddling, are as follows:

1. A notable economy in fuel, both as regards quantity and
quality.

2. Economy resulting from diminution in the waste of metal, with
a consequent improvement in the quality of the products
obtained.

3. Diminution in cost of repairs.

4. Less rapid wear in the grates.

5. Improvement in the conditions of the work of puddling.

As regards the first of these advantages, it may be stated that
the puddling of ordinary Ougrée forge iron, which required
with other furnaces 900 to 1,000 kilogrammes of coal, is now
performed with less than 600 kilogrammes per ton of the iron
produced. The puddling of fine grained iron which required 1,300 to
1,500 kilogrammes of coal is now done with 800. So much for
quantity; as for quality the system presents also a very marked
advantage in that it requires no rolling coal–the operation of the
furnace being just as regular with fine coal, even that sifted
through screens of 0.02 meter.

The second class of advantages naturally results from the almost
complete prevention of access of cold air. The saving in wastage
amounts to 3 or 4 per cent., that is to say, 100 kilogrammes of
iron produced is accompanied by a loss of only 9 to 10 kilogrammes,
instead of 13 to 15 as ordinarily reckoned.

The diminution in the cost of repairs is due to the fact that
the furnace doors, of which there are two, permit of easy access to
all parts of the sole; moreover, the coal never coming in contact
with the fire-bridges, the latter last much longer than those in
other styles of furnaces, and can be used for several weeks without
the necessity of the least repair. The reduced wear of the grates
results from the low temperature that can be used in the furnace,
and the quantity of clinker that can be left therein without
interfering with its operation, thus permitting of having the
grates always black. These latter in no wise change, and after five
months of work the square bars still preserve their sharpness of
edges.

As for the improvements in the conditions of the work of
puddling, it may be stated that with a uniform price per 100
kilogrammes for all the furnaces, the laborers working at the gas
furnaces can earn 25 to 30 per cent. more than those working at
ordinary furnaces.

GESSNER’S CONTINUOUS CLOTH-PRESSING MACHINE.

It is well known that there are several serious drawbacks in the
usual plan of pressing woolen or worsted cloths and felts with
press plates, press papers, and presses. Three objections of great
weight may be mentioned, and events in Leeds give emphasis to a
fourth. The three objections are–the labor required in setting or
folding the cloth, the expense of the press papers, and the time
required. The fourth objection, about which a dispute has occurred
between the press-setters and the master finishers in Leeds, refers
to the inapplicability of the common system to long lengths. The
men object to these on account of the great labor involved in
shifting the heavy mass of cloth and press plates to and from the
presses. A minor drawback of this system is that it involves the
presence of a fold up the middle of the piece. On account of these
drawbacks it has long been understood to be desirable to expedite
the process, and also to dispense with the press papers. This is
the main purpose of the machine we now illustrate in section, in
which the pressing is done continuously by what may be termed a
species of ironing. The machine consists of a central hollow
cylinder, C, three-quarters of the circumference of which is
covered by the hollow boxes, M, heated by steam through the pipes
shown, and which are mounted upon the levers, BB’, whose fulcra are
at bb. By means of the hand-wheel, T, and worm-wheel, n, which
closes or opens the levers, BB’, the pressure of the boxes upon the
central roller may be adjusted at will, the spring-bolt, F,
allowing a certain amount of yield. The faces of the press-boxes,
MM, are covered by a curved sheet of German silver attached to the
point, Y. This sheet takes the place of the press papers in the
ordinary process. The course of the cloth through the machine is as
follows, and is shown by the arrows: It is placed on the bottom
board in front, and in its travel it passes over the rails, O,
after which it is operated on by the brush, Z, leaving which it is
conveyed over the rails, V and I, the rollers, K and P, and thence
between the pressing roller, C, and the German silver press plate
covering the heated boxes, M. Leaving these the piece passes over
the roller, P, and is cuttled down in the bottom board by the
cuttling motion, F, or a rolling-up motion may be applied. The
maker states that arrangements for brushing and steaming may also
be attached, so that in one passage through the machine a piece may
be pressed, brushed, and steamed. The speed of the cylinder may be
adjusted according to the quality or requirements of the goods that
are under treatment. At the time of our visit, says the Textile
Manufacturer, printed woolen pieces were being pressed at the
rate of about four yards a minute, but higher speeds are often
obtained. Messrs. Taylor, Wordsworth & Co., who have erected
many of these machines in Leeds, Bradford, and Batley, inform us
that they find they are adapted for the pressing of a wide variety
of cloths, from Bradford goods and thin serges to the heavy pieces
of Dewsbury and Batley. The inventor, Ernst Gessner, of Aue,
Saxony, adopts an ingenious expedient for pressing goods with thick
lists. He provides an arrangement for moving the cylinder endwise,
according to the different widths of the pieces to be treated. One
list is left outside at the end of the cylinder, and the other at
the opposite end of the pressing boxes. The machine we saw was 80
in. wide on the roller, and it was one the design and construction
of which undoubtedly do credit to Mr. Gessner.

IMPROVEMENTS IN WOOLEN CARDING ENGINES.

Mr. Bolette, who has made a name for himself in connection with
strap dividers, has experimented in another direction on the
carding engine, and as his ideas contain some points of novelty we
herewith give the necessary illustrations, so that our readers can
judge for themselves as to the merit of these inventions.

Fig. 1.

Fig. 1 represents the feeding arrangement. Here the wool is
delivered by the feed rollers, A A, in the usual manner. The longer
fibers are then taken off by a comb, B, and brought forward to the
stripper, E, which transfers them to the roller, H, and thence to
the cylinder. The shorter fibers which are not seized by the comb
fall down, but as they drop they meet a blast of air created by a
fan, which throws the lighter and cleaner parts in a kind of spray
upon the roller, L, whence they pass on to the cylinder, while the
dirt and other heavier parts fall downwards into a box, and are by
this means kept off the cylinder. It is evident that in this
arrangement it is not intended to keep the long and the short
fibers separate, but to utilize them all in the formation of the
yarn. The arrangement shown in Fig. 2 refers to the delivery end.
Instead of the sliver being wound upon the roller in the usual way,
it runs upon a sheet of linen, P¹, as in the case of carding
for felt, with a to-and-fro motion in the direction of the axis of
the rollers. In this way one or more layers of the fleece can be
placed on the sheet, which in that case passes backwards and
forwards from roller S to R, and vice versa. It is, in fact,
the bat arrangement used for felt, only with this difference, that
the bat is at once rolled up instead of going through the bat
frame. In the manufacture of felt it is of course of importance to
have many very thin layers of fleece superposed over each other in
order to equalize it, and if the same is applied to the manufacture
of cloth it will no doubt give satisfactory results, but may be
rather costly.

Fig. 2.

NOVELTIES IN RING SPINDLES.

One of the drawbacks of ring spinning is the uneven pull of the
traveler, which is the more difficult to counteract as it is
exerted in jerks at irregular intervals. It is argued that with
spindles and bearings as usually made the spindle is supported
firmly in its bearing, and cannot give in case of such a lateral
pull when exerted through the yarn by the traveler, and the
consequence is either a breakage of the yarn or an uneven thread.
Impressed with this idea, and in order to remedy this defect, an
eminent Swiss firm has hit upon the notion of driving the spindle
by friction, and to make it more or less loose in the bearings, so
that in case of an extra pull by the traveler the spindle can give
way a little, and thus prevent the breakage of the yarn. This idea
has been carried out in four different ways, and as this seems to
be an entirely new departure in ring spinning, we give the
illustrations of their construction in detail.

Fig. 1. Fig. 2. Fig. 3. Fig. 4.

Fig. 1 represents Bourcart’s recent arrangement of attaching the
thread guide to the spindle rail and the adjustable spindle. The
spindle is held by the sleeve, g, which latter is screwed into the
spindle rail, S, this being moved by the pinion, a; the collar is
elongated upwards in a cuplike form, c, the better to hold the oil,
and keep it from flying; d is the wharf, which has attached to it
the sleeve, m, and which is situated loosely in the space between
the spindle and the footstep, e. Above the wharf the spindle is
hexagonal in shape, and to this part is attached the friction
plate, a. Between the latter and the upper surface of the wharf a
cloth or felt washer is inserted, to act as a brake. The footstep,
e, is filled with oil, in which run the foot of the spindle and the
sleeve m, the latter turning upon a steel ring situated on the
bottom of the footstep. As, thus, the foot of the spindle is quite
free, the upper part of the spindle can give sideways in the
direction of any sudden pull, and the foot of the spindle can
follow this motion in the opposite direction, the collar forming
the fulcrum for the spindle. By this alteration of the vertical
position of the spindle into an inclined one (though ever so
trifling), the contact of the friction plate, a, and the wharf is
interrupted, and thus the speed of the spindle reduced. This will
cause less yarn to be wound on, and the pull thus to be
neutralized; but as the wharf keeps turning at the same speed, its
centrifugal force will act again upon the friction plate, and thus
bring the spindle back to its vertical position as soon as the
extra drag has been removed.

In Fig. 2 the footstep, e, has the foot of the spindle more
closely fitting at the bottom, but the upper part of the step opens
out gradually, and forms a conical cavity of a little larger
diameter than the spindle, so that the latter has a considerable
play sideways. The wharf carries in its lower part the sleeve, g,
which runs upon a steel ring as above. The upper surface of the
wharf is arched, and upon this is fitted the correspondingly arched
friction plate, a, which latter is attached to the spindle by a
screw. The position of the spindle is maintained by the collar, m.
This collar is loose in the spindle rail, and only held by the
spring, m’. If now, a lateral drag is exerted upon the upper part
of the spindle, the collar car follows the direction of this drag,
and the spindle thus be brought out of the vertical position, the
friction plate slipping at the same time. The force of the spring
conjointly with the centrifugal force will then bring back the
spindle into its normal position as soon as the drag is again
even.

Fig. 3 shows a spindle with a very long conical oil vessel, B,
resting upon a disk, e”, in cup, e’, with a cover, e”‘. The wharf,
d, is here situated high up the spindle, has the same sleeve as in
the preceding case, and runs round the bush, g, upon the ring, z.
The friction plate resting upon the wharf is joined to the collar,
a, running out into a cup shape, which is fixed to the spindle,
which here has a hexagonal form. In this case the collar gives with
the spindle, which latter has the necessary play in the long
footstep; and as the collar and friction-plate are one, it is
brought back to its normal place by centrifugal force.

A peculiar arrangement is shown in Fig. 4. Here the ring and
traveler, f, are placed as usual, but the spindle carries at the
same time an inverted flier, t. The spindle turns loosely in the
footstep, e, the oil chamber being carried up to the middle of its
height. The wharf is placed in the same position as in the previous
case, having also a sleeve running in the oil chamber, c, upon a
steel ring, z. The friction-plate a, on the top of the wharf
carries the flier, and on its upper surface is in contact with the
inverted cup, a, which is attached to the spindle by a pin or
screw. In order to limit at will the lateral motion of the spindle
there is attached to the latter, between the footstep and the
collar, a split ring, i, which can be closed more or less by a
small set screw. The spindle is thus only held in the perpendicular
position by its own velocity, which will facilitate a high degree
of speed, through the entire absence of all friction in the
bearings, this vertical position being assisted by the friction
motion whenever the spindle has been drawn on one side. Although
the notion of mounting spindles so that they can yield in order to
center themselves is not new, it is evident that considerable
ingenuity has been brought to bear upon the arrangement of the
spindles we have described, but we are not in a position to say to
what extent practice has in this case coincided with
theory.–Textile Manufacturer.

PHOTO-ENGRAVING ON ZINC OR COPPER.

By LEON VIDAL.

This process is similar in many respects to the one which was
some time ago communicated to the Photographic Society of France by
M. Stronbinsky, of St. Petersburg, but in a much improved and
complete form. An account of it was given by M. Gobert, at the
meeting of the same society, on the 2d December, 1882. The
following are the details, as demonstrated by me at the meeting of
the 9th of May last:

Sheets of zinc or of copper of a convenient size are carefully
planished and polished with powdered pumice stone. The sensitive
mixture is composed of:

After this mixture has been carefully filtered through a paper
filter, a few drops of ammonia are added. It will keep good for
some time if well corked and preserved from exposure to the light.
Even two months after being prepared I have found it to be still
good; but too large a quantity should not be prepared at a time, as
it does not improve with keeping.

I find that the dry albumen of commerce will answer as well as
the fresh. In that case I employ the following formula:

Always add some drops of ammonia, and keep this mixture in a
well corked bottle and in a dark place.

To coat the metal plate, place it on a turning table, to which
it is made fast at the center by a pneumatic holder; to assure the
perfect adhesion of this holder, it is as well to wet the circular
elastic ring of the holder before applying it to the metallic
surface. When this is done, the table may be made to rotate quickly
without fear of detaching the plate by the rapidity of the
movement. The plate is placed in a perfectly horizontal position,
where no dust can settle on it; the mixture is then poured on it,
and distributed by means of a triangular piece of soft paper, so as
to cover equally all the parts of the plate. Care should be taken
not to flow too much liquid over the plate, and when the latter is
everywhere coated, the excess is poured off into a different vessel
from that which contains the filtered mixture, or else into a
filter resting on that vessel. The turning table should now be
inverted so that the sensitive surface may be downwards, and it is
made to rotate at first slowly, afterwards more rapidly, so as to
make the film, which should be very thin, quite smooth and even.
The whole operation should be carried out in a subdued light, as
too strong a light would render insoluble the film of bichromated
albumen.

When the film is equalized the plate must be detached from the
turning table and placed on a cast iron or tin plate heated to not
more than 40° or 50° C. A gentle heat is quite sufficient
to dry the albumen quickly; a greater heat would spoil it, as it
would produce coagulation. So soon as the film is dry, which will
be seen by the iridescent aspect it assumes, the plate is allowed
to cool to the ordinary temperature, and is then at once exposed
either beneath a positive, or beneath an original drawing the lines
of which have been drawn in opaque ink, so as to completely prevent
the luminous rays from passing through them; the light should only
penetrate through the white or transparent ground of the
drawing.

I say a positive because I wish to obtain an engraved
plate; if I wanted to have a plate for typographic printing, I
should have to take a negative. After exposure the plate
must be at once developed, which is effected by dissolving in water
those parts of the bichromated gelatine which have been protected
from the action of light by the dark spaces of the cliché;
these parts remain soluble, while the others have been rendered
completely insoluble. If the plate were dipped in clear water it
would be difficult to observe the picture coming out, especially on
copper. To overcome this difficulty the water must be tinged with
some aniline color; aniline red or violet, which are soluble in
water, answers the purpose very well. Enough of the dye must be
dissolved in the water to give it a tolerably deep color. So soon
as the plate is plunged into this liquid the albumen not acted on
by light is dissolved, while the insoluble parts are colored by
absorbing the dye, so that the metal is exposed in the lines
against a red or violet ground, according to the color of the dye
used.

When the drawing comes out quite perfect, and a complete copy of
the original, the plate with the image on it is allowed to dry
either of its own accord, or by submitting it to a gentle heat. So
soon as it is dry it is etched, and this is done by means of a
solution of perchloride of iron in alcohol. Both alcohol and iron
perchloride will coagulate albumen; their action, therefore, on the
image will not be injurious, since they will harden the remaining
albumen still further. But to get the full benefit of this, the
alcohol and the iron perchloride must both be free from water; it
is therefore advisable to use the salt in crystals which have been
thoroughly dried, and the alcohol of a strength of 95°.

The following is the formula:

This solution must be carefully filtered so as to get rid of any
deposit which may form, and must be preserved in a well-corked
bottle, when it will keep for a long time. The plate is first
coated with a varnish of bitumen of Judea on the edges (if those
parts are not already covered with albumen) and on the back, so
that the etching liquid can only act on the lines to be engraved.
It is then placed, with the side to be engraved downwards, in a
porcelain basin, into which a sufficient quantity of the solution
of perchloride of iron is poured, and the liquid is kept stirred so
as to renew the portion which touches the plate; but care must be
taken not to touch with the brush the parts where there is albumen
remaining. The length of time that the etching must be continued
depends on the depth required to be given to the engraving;
generally a quarter of an hour will be found to be sufficient.
Should it be thought desirable to extend the action over half an
hour, the lines will be found to have been very deeply engraved.
When the etching is considered to have been pushed far enough, the
plate must be withdrawn from the solution, and washed in plenty of
water; it must then be forcibly rubbed with a cloth so as to remove
all the albumen, and after it has been polished with a little
pumice, the engraving is complete.

It will be seen that this process may be used with advantage
instead of that of photo-engraving with bitumen, in cases where it
is not advisable to use acids. One of my friends, Mr. Fisch,
suggests the plan–which seems to deserve a careful
investigation–of combining this process with that where bitumen is
employed; it would be done somewhat in the following way. The plate
of metal would be first coated evenly with bitumen of Judea on the
turning table, and when the bitumen is quite dry, it should be
again coated with albumen in the manner as described above. In full
sunlight the exposure need not exceed a minute in length; then the
plate would be laid in colored water, dried, and immersed in
spirits of turpentine. The latter will dissolve the bitumen in all
the parts where it has been exposed by the removal of the albumen
not rendered insoluble by the action of light. But it remains to be
seen whether the albumen will not be undermined in this method;
therefore, before recommending the process, it ought to be
thoroughly studied. The metal is now exposed in all the parts that
have to be etched, while all the other parts are protected by a
layer of bitumen coated with coagulated albumen. Hence we may
employ as mordant water acidulated with 3, 4, or 5 per cent. of
nitric acid, according as it is required to have the plate etched
with greater or less vigor.

By following the directions above given, any one wishing to
adopt the process cannot fail of obtaining good results, One of its
greatest advantages is that it is within the reach of every one
engaged in printing operations.–Photo News.

MERIDIAN LINE.

[Footnote: From Proceedings of the Association of County
Surveyors of Ohio, Columbus, January, 1882.]

The following process has been used by the undersigned for many
years. The true meridian can thus be found within one minute of
arc:

Directions.–Nail a slat to the north side of an upper
window–the higher the better. Let it be 25 feet from the ground or
more. Let it project 3 feet. Kear the end suspend a plumb-bob, and
have it swing in a bucket of water. A lamp set in the window will
render the upper part of the string visible. Place a small table or
stand about 20 feet south of the plumb-bob, and on its south edge
stick the small blade of a pocket knife; place the eye close to the
blade, and move the stand so as to bring the blade, string, and
polar star into line. Place the table so that the star shall be
seen very near the slat in the window. Let this be done half an
hour before the greatest elongation of the star. Within four or
five minutes after the first alignment the star will have moved to
the east or west of the string. Slip the table or the knife a
little to one side, and align carefully as before. After a few
alignments the star will move along the string–down, if the
elongation is west; up, if east. On the first of June the eastern
elongation occurs about half-past two in the morning, and as
daylight comes on shortly after the observation is completed, I
prefer that time of year. The time of meridian passage or of the
elongation can be found in almost any work on surveying. Of course
the observer should choose a calm night.

In the morning the transit can be ranged with the knife blade
and string, and the proper angle turned off to the left, if the
elongation is east; to the right, if west.

Instead of turning off the angle, as above described, I measure
200 or 300 feet northtward, in the direction of the string, and
compute the offset in feet and inches, set a stake in the ground,
and drive a tack in the usual way.

Suppose the distance is 250 feet and the angle 1° 40′, then
the offset will be 7,271 feet, or 7 feet 3¼ inches. A minute
of arc at the distance of 250 feet is seven-eighths of an inch; and
this is the most accurate way, for the vernier will not mark so
small a space accurately.

ANGLE OF ELONGATION.

This should be computed by the surveyor for each observation.
The distance between the star and the pole is continually
diminishing, and on January 1, 1882, was 1° 18′ 48″.

There is a slight annual variation in the distance. July 1,
1882, it will be 1° 19′ 20″. If from this latter quantity the
observer will subtract 16″ for 1883, and the same quantity for each
succeeding year for the next four or five years, no error so great
as one-quarter of a minute will be made in the position of the
meridian as determined in the summer months. If winter observations
are made, the distance in January should be used. The formula for
computing the angle of elongation is easily made by any one
understanding spherical trigonometry, and is this:

As an example, suppose the time is July, 1882, and the latitude
40°. Then the computation being made, the angle will be found
to be 1° 43′ 34″. A difference of six minutes in the latitude
will make less than 10″ difference in the angle, as one can see by
trial. Any good State or county map will give the latitude to
within one or two miles–or minutes.

The facts being as here stated, the absurdity of the Ohio law,
concerning the establishment of county meridians, becomes apparent.
The longitude has nothing at all to do With the meridian; and a
difference of six miles in latitude makes no appreciable
error in the meridian established as here suggested, whereas the
statute requires the latitude within one half a second,
which is fifty feet. There are some other things, besides
the ways of Providence, which may be said to be “past finding out.”
It is not probable that a surveyor would err so much as
three miles in his latitude, but should he do so, then the
error in his meridian line, resulting from the mistake, will be
five seconds, and a line one mile long, run on a
course 5″ out of the way, will vary but an inch and a half
from the true position. Surveyors well know that no such accuracy
is attainable. R. W. McFARLAND,

ELECTRO-MANIA.

By W. MATTIEU WILLIAMS.

A history of electricity, in order to be complete, must include
two distinct and very different subjects: the history of electrical
science, and a history of electrical exaggerations and delusions.
The progress of the first has been followed by a crop of the second
from the time when Kleist, Muschenbroek, and Cuneus endeavored to
bottle the supposed fluid, and in the course of these attempts
stumbled upon the “Leyden jar.”

Dr. Lieberkuhn, of Berlin, describes the startling results which
he obtained, or imagined, “when a nail or a piece of brass wire is
put into a small apothecary’s phial and electrified.” He says that
“if, while it is electrifying, I put my finger or a piece of gold
which I hold in my hand to the nail, I receive a shock which stuns
my arms and shoulders.” At about the same date (the middle of the
last century), Muschenbroek stated, in a letter to Réaumur,
that, on taking a shock from a thin glass bowl, “he felt himself
struck in his arms, shoulders, and breast, so that he lost his
breath, and was two days before he recovered from the effects of
the blow and the terror” and that he “would not take a second shock
for the kingdom of France.” From the description Of the apparatus,
it is evident that this dreadful shock was no stronger than many of
us have taken scores of times for fun, and have given to our
school-follows when we became the proud possessors of our first
electrical machine.

Conjurers, mountebanks, itinerant quacks, and other adventurers
operated throughout Europe, and were found at every country fair
and fete displaying the wonders of the invisible agent by
giving shocks and professing to cure all imaginable ailments.

Then came the discoveries of Galvani and Volta, followed by the
demonstrations of Galvani’s nephew Aldini, whereby dead animals
were made to display the movements of life, not only by the
electricity of the Voltaic pile, but, as Aldini especially showed,
by a transfer of this mysterious agency from one animal to
another.

According to his experiments (that seem to be forgotten by
modern electricians) the galvanometer of the period, a prepared
frog, could be made to kick by connecting its nerve and muscle with
muscle and nerve of a recently killed ox, with, or without metallic
intervention.

Thus arose the dogma which still survives in the advertisements
of electrical quacks, that “electricity is life,” and the
possibility of reviving the dead was believed by many. Executed
criminals were in active demand; their bodies were expeditiously
transferred from the gallows or scaffold to the operating table,
and their dead limbs were made to struggle and plunge, their
eyeballs to roll, and their features to perpetrate the most
horrible contortions by connecting nerves with one pole, and
muscles with the opposite pole of a battery.

The heart was made to beat, and many men of eminence supposed
that if this could be combined with artificial respiration, and
kept up for awhile, the victim of the hangman might be restored,
provided the neck was not broken. Curious tales were loudly
whispered concerning gentle hangings and strange doings at Dr.
Brookes’s, in Leicester Square, and at the Hunterian Museum, in
Windmill Street, now flourishing as “The Café de l’Etoile.”
When a child, I lived about midway between these celebrated schools
of practical anatomy, and well remember the tales of horror that
were recounted concerning them. When Bishop and Williams (no
relation to the writer) were hanged for burking, i.e., murdering
people in order to provide “subjects” for dissection, their bodies
were sent to Windmill Street, and the popular notion was that,
being old and faithful servants of the doctors, they were
galvanized to life, and again set up in their old business.

It is amusing to read some of the treatises on medical galvanism
that were published at about this period, and contrast their
positive statements of cures effected and results anticipated with
the position now attained by electricity as a curative agent.

Then came the brilliant discoveries of Faraday, Ampère,
etc., demonstrating the relations between electricity and
magnetism, and immediately following them a multitude of patents
for electro-motors, and wild dreams of superseding steam-engines by
magneto-electric machinery.

The following, which I copy from the Penny Mechanic, of
June 10, 1837, is curious, and very instructive to those who think
of investing in any of the electric power companies of to-day: “Mr.
Thomas Davenport, a Vermont blacksmith, has discovered a mode of
applying magnetic and electro-magnetic power, which we have good
ground for believing will be of immense importance to the world.”
This announcement is followed by reference to Professor Silliman’s
American Journal of Science and the Arts, for April, 1837,
and extracts from American papers, of which the following is a
specimen: “1. We saw a small cylindrical battery, about nine inches
in length, three or four in diameter, produce a magnetic power of
about 300 lb., and which, therefore, we could not move with our
utmost strength. 2. We saw a small wheel, five-and-a-half inches in
diameter, performing more than 600 revolutions in a minute, and
lift a weight of 24 lb. one foot per minute, from the power of a
battery of still smaller dimensions. 3. We saw a model of a
locomotive engine traveling on a circular railroad with immense
velocity, and rapidly ascending an inclined plane of far greater
elevation than any hitherto ascended by steam-power. And these and
various other experiments which we saw, convinced us of the truth
of the opinion expressed by Professors Silliman, Renwick, and
others, that the power of machinery may be increased from this
source beyond any assignable limit. It is computed by these learned
men that a circular galvanic battery about three feet in diameter,
with magnets of a proportionable surface, would produce at least a
hundred horse-power; and therefore that two such batteries would be
sufficient to propel ships of the largest class across the
Atlantic. The only materials required to generate and continue this
power for such a voyage would be a few thin sheets of copper and
zinc, and a few gallons of mineral water.”

The Faure accumulator is but a very weak affair compared with
this, Sir William Thomson notwithstanding. To render the date of
the above fully appreciable, I may note that three months later the
magazine from which it is quoted was illustrated with a picture of
the London and Birmingham Railway Station displaying a first-class
passenger with a box seat on the roof of the carriage, and followed
by an account of the trip to Boxmoor, the first installment of the
London and North-Western Railway. It tells us that, “the time of
starting having arrived, the doors of the carriages are closed,
and, by the assistance of the conductors, the train is moved on a
short distance toward the first bridge, where it is met by an
engine, which conducts it up the inclined plane as far as Chalk
Farm. Between the canal and this spot stands the station-house for
the engines; here, also, are fixed the engines which are to be
employed in drawing the carriages up the inclined plane from Euston
Square, by a rope upwards of a mile in length, the cost of which
was upwards of £400.” After describing the next change of
engines, in the same matter of course way as the changing of
stage-coach horses, the narrative proceeds to say that “entering
the tunnel from broad daylight to perfect darkness has an
exceedingly novel effect.”

I make these parallel quotations for the benefit of those who
imagine that electricity is making such vastly greater strides than
other sources of power. I well remember making this journey to
Boxmoor, and four or five years later traveling on a circular
electro-magnetic railway. Comparing that electric railway with
those now exhibiting, and comparing the Boxmoor trip with the
present work of the London and North-Western Railway, I have no
hesitation in affirming that the rate of progress in
electro-locomotion during the last forty years has been far smaller
than that of steam.

The leading fallacy which is urging the electro-maniacs of the
present time to their ruinous investments is the idea that
electro-motors are novelties, and that electric-lighting is in its
infancy; while gas-lighting is regarded as an old, or mature
middle-aged business, and therefore we are to expect a marvelous
growth of the infant and no further progress of the adult.

These excited speculators do not appear to be aware of the fact
that electric-lighting is older than gas-lighting; that Sir Humphry
Davy exhibited the electric light in Albemarle Street, while London
was still dimly lighted by oil-lamps, and long before gas-lighting
was attempted anywhere. The lamp used by Sir Humphry Davy at the
Royal Institution, at the beginning of the present century, was an
arrangement of two carbon pencils, between which was formed the
“electric arc” by the intensely-vivid incandescence and combustion
of the particles of carbon passing between the solid carbon
electrodes. The light exhibited by Davy was incomparably more
brilliant than anything that has been lately shown either in
London, or Paris, or at Sydenham. His arc was four inches in
length, the carbon pencils were four inches apart, and a broad,
dazzling arch of light bridged the whole space between. The modern
arc lights are but pygmies, mere specks, compared with this; a leap
of 1/3 or 1/4 inch constituting their maximum achievement.

Comparing the actual progress of gas and electric lighting, the
gas has achieved by far the greater strides; and this is the case
even when we compare very recent progress.

The improvements connected with gas-making have been steadily
progressive; scarcely a year has passed from the date of Murdoch’s
efforts to the present time, without some or many decided steps
having been made. The progress of electric-lighting has been a
series of spasmodic leaps, backward as well as forward.

As an example of stepping backward, I may refer to what the
newspapers have described as the “discoveries” of Mr. Edison, or
the use of an incandescent wire, or stick, or sheet of platinum, or
platino-iridium; or a thread of carbon, of which the “Swan” and
other modern lights are rival modifications.

As far back as 1846 I was engaged in making apparatus and
experiments for the purpose of turning to practical account “King’s
patent electric light,” the actual inventor of which was a young
American, named Starr, who died in 1847, when about 25 years of
age, a victim of overwork and disappointment in his efforts to
perfect this invention and a magneto-electric machine, intended to
supply the power in accordance with some of the “latest
improvements” of 1881 and 1882.

I had a share in this venture, and was very enthusiastic until
after I had become practically acquainted with the subject. We had
no difficulty in obtaining a splendid and perfectly steady light,
better than any that are shown at the Crystal Palace.

We used platinum, and alloys of platinum and iridium, abandoned
them as Edison did more than thirty years later, and then tried a
multitude of forms of carbon, including that which constitutes the
last “discovery” of Mr. Edison, viz., burnt cane. Starr tried this
on theoretical grounds, because cane being coated with silica, he
predicted that by charring it we should obtain a more compact stick
or thread, as the fusion of the silica would hold the carbon
particles together. He finally abandoned this and all the rest in
favor of the hard deposit of carbon which lines the inside of
gas-retorts, some specimens of which we found to be so hard that we
required a lapidary’s wheel to cut them into the thin sticks.

Our final wick was a piece of this of square section, and about
1/8 of an inch across each way. It was mounted between two
forceps–one holding each end, and thus leaving a clear half-inch
between. The forceps were soldered to platinum wires, one of which
passed upward through the top of the barometer tube, expanded into
a lamp glass at its upper part. This wire was sealed to the glass
as it passed through. The lower wire passed down the middle of the
tube.

The tube was filled with mercury and inverted over a cup of
mercury. Being 30 inches long up to the bottom of the expanded
portion, or lamp globe, the mercury fell below this and left a
Torricellian vacuum there. One pole of the battery, or
dynamo-machine, was connected with the mercury in the cup, and the
other with the upper wire. The stick of carbon glowed brilliantly,
and with perfect steadiness.

I subsequently exhibited this apparatus in the Town-hall of
Birmingham, and many times at the Midland Institute. The only
scientific difficulty connected with this arrangement was that due
to a slight volatilization of the carbon, and its deposition as a
brown film upon the lamp glass; but this difficulty is not
insuperable.–Knowledge.

ACTION OF MAGNETS UPON THE VOLTAIC ARC.

The action of magnets upon the voltaic arc has been known for a
long time past. Davy even succeeded in influencing the latter
powerfully enough in this way to divide it, and since his time
Messrs. Grove and Quet have studied the effect under different
conditions. In 1859, I myself undertook numerous researches on this
subject, and experimented on the induction spark of the Ruhmkorff
coil, the results of these researches having been published in the
last two editions of my notes on the Ruhmkorff apparatus.

FIG. 1

These researches were summed up in the journal La
Lumière Electrique for June 15, 1879. Recently, Mr.
Pilleux has addressed to us some new experiments on the same
subject, made on the voltaic arc produced by a De Meritens
alternating current machine. Naturally, he has found the same
phenomena that I had made known; but he thinks that these new
researches are worthy of interest by reason of the nature of the
arc in which he experimented, and which, according to him, is of a
different nature from all those on which, up to the present time,
experiments have been made. Such a distinction as this, however,
merits a discussion.

With the induction spark, magnets have an action only on the
aureola which accompanies the line of fire of the static discharge;
and this aureola, being only a sort of sheath of heated air
containing many particles of metal derived from the rheophores,
represents exactly the voltaic arc.

FIG. 2

Moreover, although the induced currents developed in the bobbin
are alternately of opposite direction, the galvanometer shows that
the currents that traverse the break are of the same direction, and
that these are direct ones. The reversed currents are, then,
arrested during their passage; and, in order to collect them, it
becomes necessary to considerably diminish the gaseous pressure of
the aeriform conductor interposed in the discharge; to increase its
conductivity; or to open to the current a very resistant metallic
derivation. By this latter means, I have succeeded in isolating,
one from the other, in two different circuits, the direct induced
currents and the reversed induced ones. As only direct currents
can, in air at a normal pressure, traverse the break through which
the induction spark passes, the aureola that surrounds it may be
considered as being exactly in the same conditions as a voltaic
arc, and, consequently, as representing an extensible conductor
traversed by a current flowing in a definite direction. Such a
conductor is consequently susceptible of being influenced by all
the external reactions that can be exerted upon a current; only, by
reason of its mobility, the conductor may possibly give way to the
action exerted upon the current traversing it, and undergo
deformations that are in relation with the laws of Ampère.
It is in this manner that I have explained the different forms that
the aureola of the induction spark assumes when it is submitted to
the action of a magnet in the direction of its axial line, or in
that of its equatorial line, or perpendicular to these latter, or
upon the magnetic poles themselves.

Experiments of a very definite kind have not yet been made as to
the nature of the arc produced by induced currents developed in
alternating current machines; but, from the experiments made with
electric candles, we are forced to admit that the current reacts as
if it were alternately reversed through the arc, since the carbons
are used up to an equal degree; and, moreover, Mr. Pilleux’s
experiments show that effects analogous to those of induction coils
are produced by the reaction of magnets upon the arc. There is,
then, here a doubtful point that it would be interesting to clear
up; and we believe that it is consequently proper to introduce in
this place Mr. Pilleux’s note:

“Having at my disposal,” says he, “a powerful vertical voltaic
arc of 12 centimeters in length, kept up by alternately reversed
currents, and one of the most powerful permanent magnets that Mr.
De Meritens employs for magneto-electric machines, I have been
enabled to make the following experiments:

“1. When I caused one of the poles of my magnet to slowly
approach the voltaic arc, I ascertained that, at a distance of 10
centimeters, the arc became flattened so as to assume the
appearance of those gas jets called ‘butterfly.’ The plane of the
‘butterfly’ was parallel with the pole that I presented, or, in
other words, with the section of the magnet. At the same time, the
arc began to emit a strident noise, which became deafening when the
pole of the magnet was brought to within a distance of about 2
millimeters. At this moment, the butterfly form produced by the arc
was greatly spread out, and reduced to the thickness of a sheet
of paper; and then it burst with violence, and projected to a
distance a great number of particles of incandescent carbon.

“2. The magnet employed being a horseshoe one, when I directed
it laterally so as to present successively, now the north and then
the south pole to the arc, the ‘butterfly’ pivoted upon itself so
as not to present the same surface to each pole of the magnet.”

By referring to the accompanying figure, which we extract from
our note on the Ruhmkorff apparatus, it will be seen that the
aureola which developed as a circular film from right to left at D,
on the north pole of the magnet, N.S. (Fig. 1), projected itself in
an opposite direction at C, upon the south pole, S, of the same
magnet; but, between the two poles, these two contrary actions
being obliged to unite, they gave rise in doing so to a very
characteristic helicoid spiral whose direction depended upon that
of the current of discharge through the aureola, or upon the
polarity of the magnetic poles. On the contrary, when the discharge
took place in the direction of the equatorial line, as in Fig. 2,
the circular film developed itself in the plane of the neutral line
above or below the line of discharge, according to the direction of
the current and the magnetic polarity of the magnet.

There is, then, between Mr. Pilleux’s experiments and my own so
great an analogy that we might draw the deduction therefrom that
induced currents in alternating machines have, like those of the
Ruhmkorff coil, a definite direction, which would be that of
currents having the greatest tension, that is to say, that of
direct currents. This hypothesis seems to us the more plausible in
that Mr. J. Van Malderem has demonstrated that the attraction of
solenoids with the currents, not straight, of magneto-electric
machines is almost as great as that of the same solenoids with
straight currents; and it is very likely that the difference which
may then exist should be so much the less in proportion as the
induced currents have more tension. We might, then, perhaps explain
the different effects of the wear of the carbons serving as
rheophores, according as the currents are continuous or
alternating, by the different calorific effects produced on these
carbons, and by the effects of electric conveyance which are a
consequence of the passage of the current through the arc.

We know that with continuous currents the positive carbon
possesses a much higher temperature than the negative, and that its
wear is about twice greater than that of the latter. But such
greater wear of the positive carbon is especially due to the fact
that combustion is greater on it than on the negative, and also to
the fact that the carbonaceous particles carried along by the
current to the positive pole are deposited in part upon the other
pole. Supposing that these polarities of the carbons were being
constantly alternately reversed, the effects might be symmetrical
from all quarters, although the only current traversing the break
were of the same direction; for, admitting that the reverse
currents could not traverse the break, they would exist none the
less for all that, and they might give rise (as has been
demonstrated by Mr. Gaugain with regard to the discharges of the
induction spark intercepted by the insulating plate of a condenser)
to return discharges through the generator, which would then have,
in the metallic part of the circuit, the same direction as the
direct currents succeeding, although they had momentarily brought
about opposite polarities in the electrodes. What might make us
suppose such an interpretation of the phenomenon to have its
raison d’etre, is that with the induced currents of the
Ruhmkorff coil, it is not the positive pole that is the hottest,
but rather the negative; from whence we might draw the deduction
that it is not so much the direction of the current that determines
the calorific effect in the electrodes, as the conditions of such
current with respect to the generator. I should not be surprised,
then, if, in the arc formed by the alternating currents of
magneto-electric machines, there should pass only one current of
the same direction, and which would be the one formed by the
superposition of direct currents, and if the reverse currents
should cause return discharges in the midst of the generating
bobbins at the moment the direct currents were generated.–Th.
Du Moncel.

VOLCKMAR’S SECONDARY BATTERIES.

The inventive genius of the country is now directed to these
important accessories of electric enterprise, and no wonder, for as
far as can at present be seen, the secret of electric motion lies
in these secondary batteries. Among other contributions of this
kind is the following, by Ernest Volckmar, electrician, Paris:

The object of this invention is to render unnecessary the use in
secondary batteries of a porous pot which creates useless
resistance to the electric current, and to store in an apparatus of
comparatively small weight and bulk considerable electric force. To
this end two reticulated or perforated plates of lead of similar
proportions are prepared, and their interstices are filled with
granules or filaments of lead, by preference chemically pure. These
plates are then submitted to pressure, and placed together, with
strips of nonconducting material interposed between them, in a
suitable vessel containing a bath of acidulated water. The plates
being connected with wires from an electric generator are brought
for a while under the action of the current, to peroxidize and
reduce the whole of the finely divided lead exposed to the
acidulated water. The secondary battery is then complete. It will
be understood that any number of these pairs of plates may be
combined to form a secondary battery, their number being determined
by the amount of storage required. The perforated plates of lead
may be prepared by drilling, casting, or in other convenient
manner, but the apertures, of whatever form, should be placed as
closely together as possible, and the finely divided lead to be
peroxidized is pressed into the cells or cavities so as to fill
their interiors only.

THE MINERALOGICAL LOCALITIES IN AND AROUND NEW YORK CITY, AND
THE MINERALS OCCURRING THEREIN.

By NELSON H. DARTON.

There will be many persons in the city of New York and its
suburbs who will not have the time or facilities for leaving town
during the summer, to spend a part of their time enjoying the
country, but would have sufficient time to take occasional
recreation for short periods. I have sought by this paper to show a
pleasurable, and at the same time very instructive use for the time
of this latter class, and that is in mineralogy. In the surrounding
parts of New York are many mineralogical localities, known to no
others than a few professional mineralogists, etc., and from which
an excellent assortment of minerals may be obtained, which would
well grace a cabinet and afford considerable instruction and
entertainment to their owner and friends, besides acting as an
incentive to a further study of this and the other sciences. These
localities which I will discuss are all within an hour’s ride from
New York, and the expenses inside of a half dollar, and generally
very much less. I could detail many other places further off, but
will reserve that for another paper.

The course which I will pursue in my explanations I have
purposely made very simple, avoiding–or when using,
explaining–all technical terms. The apparatus and tests noticed
are of the most rudimentary style consistent with that which is
necessary to attain the simple purpose of distinguishment, and
altogether I have prepared this paper for those having at the
present time little or no knowledge or practice in mineralogy,
while those having it can be led perhaps by the details of the
localities noticed. Another reason why I have written so in detail
of this last subject is, because the experiences of most amateur
mineralogists are generally so very discouraging in their endeavors
to find the minerals, and there is everything in giving a good
start to properly fix the interest on the subject. The reason of
these discouragements is simple, and generally because they do not
know the portion of the locality, say, for instance, a certain
township, in which the minerals occur. And if they do succeed in
finding this, it is seldom that the portion in which the mineral
occurs, which is generally some small inconspicuous vein or
fissure, is found; and even in this it is generally difficult to
recognize and isolate the mineral from the extraneous matter
holding it. As an instance of this I might cite thus: Dana, in his
text book on mineralogy, will mention the locality for a certain
species, as Bergen Hill–say for this instance, dogtooth calespar.
When we consider that Bergen Hill, in the limited sense of the
expression, is ten miles long and fully one mile wide, and as the
rock outcrops nearly all over it, and it is also covered with
quarries, cuttings, etc., it may be seen that this direction is
rather indefinite. To the professional mineralogist it is but an
index, however, and he may consult the authority it is quoted
from–the American Journal of Science, etc.–and thus find
the part referred to, or by consulting other mineralogists who
happen to know. Again, the person having found by inquiry that the
part referred to is the Pennsylvania Railroad, and as this is fully
a mile long and interspersed with various prominent looking, but
veins of a mineral of little value, at any rate not the one in
question, they are few who could suppose that it occurred in that.
Apparently a vein of it would not be noticed at all from the
surrounding rock of gravelly earth, but there it is, and in a vein
of chlorite. This is so throughout the long and more or less
complete stated lists of mineralogical localities. Thus I will, in
describing the mineral, after explaining the conditions under which
it occurs, give almost the exact spot where I have found the same
mineral myself, and have left sufficiently fine specimens to carry
away, and thus no time will be lost in going over fruitless ground,
and further, this paper is written up to the date given at its end,
insuring a necessary presence of them.

In order that one not familiar with mineral specimens should not
carry off from the various localities a variety of worthless
stones, etc., which are frequently more or less attractive to an
inexperienced eye, the following hints may be salutary.

There are the varieties of three minerals, which are very
commonly met with in greater or less abundance in mineralogical
trips: they are of calcite, steatite, and quartz. They occur in so
many modifications of form, color, and condition that one might
speedily form a cabinet of these, if they were taken when met with,
and imagine it to be of great value. The first of these is calcite.
It occurs as marble, limestone; calcspar, dogtooth spar, nail head
spar, stalactites, and a number of other forms, which are only
valuable when occurring in perfect crystals or uniquely set upon
the rock holding it. The calcspar is extremely abundant at Bergen
Hill, where it might be mistaken for many of the other minerals
which I describe as occurring there, and even in preference to
them, to one’s great chagrin upon arriving home and testing it, to
find that it is nothing but calcite. In order to avoid this and
distinguish this mineral on the field, it should be tested with a
single drop of acid, which on coming in contact with it bubbles up
or effervesces like soda water, seidlitz powder, etc., while it
does not do so with any of the minerals occurring in the same
locality. This acid is prepared for use as follows: about twenty
drops of muriatic acid are procured from a druggist in a half-ounce
bottle, which is then filled up with water and kept tightly corked.
It is applied by taking a drop out on a wisp of broom or a small
minim dropper, which may be obtained at the druggist’s also. I do
not say that in every case this mineral should be rejected, because
it is frequently very beautiful and worthy of place in a cabinet,
but should be kept only under the conditions mentioned further on
in this paper, under the head of “Calcite in Weehawken Tunnel.”

The next mineral abundant in so many forms is quartz, and is not
so readily distinguished as calcite. It is found of every color,
shape, etc., possible, and that which is found in any of the
localities I am about to describe, with the exception of fine
crystals on Staten Island, are of no value and may be rejected,
unless answering in detail to the description given under Staten
Island. The method of distinguishing the quartz is by its hardness,
which is generally so great that it cannot be scratched by the
point of a knife, or at least with great difficulty, and a fragment
of it will scratch glass readily; thus it is distinguished from the
other minerals occurring in the localities discussed in this
paper.

The other minerals so common are the varieties of steatite. This
is especially so at Bergen Hill and Staten Island. They occur in
amorphous masses generally, and may be distinguished by being so
soft as to be readily cut by the finger nail. I will detail further
upon the soapstone forms in discussing the localities on Staten
Island, and the chloritic form under the head of “Weehawken
Tunnel.” The surest method of avoiding these and recognizing the
others by their appearance, which is generally the only guide used
by a professional mineralogist, is to copy off the lists of the
various minerals I describe, and, by visiting the American Museum
of Natural History on any week day except Mondays and Tuesdays, one
may see and become familiar with the minerals they are going in
quest of, besides others in the cases. This method is much more
satisfactory than printed descriptions, and saves the labor of many
of the distinguishing manipulations I am about to describe, besides
saving the trouble of bringing inferior specimens of the minerals
home.

In going forth on a trip one should be provided with a
mineralogical hammer, or one answering its purpose, and a cold
chisel with which to detach or trim the minerals from adhering
rocks, the bottle of acid before referred to, and a three cornered
file for testing hardness, as explained further on. As I noticed
before, the better plan of distinguishing a mineral is by being
familiar with its appearance, but as this is generally
impracticable, I will detail the modes used in lieu of this to be
applied on bringing the minerals home. These distinguishments
depend on difference in specific gravity, hardness, solubility in
hot acids, and the action of high heat. I will explain the
application of each one separately, commencing with–

The Specific Gravity.–In ascertaining the specific
gravity the following apparatus is necessary: a small pair of hand
scales with a set of weights, from one grain to one ounce. These
can be procured from the apparatus maker, the scales for about
fifty cents, and the weights for not much over the same amount. The
scales are prepared for this work by cutting two small holes in one
of the scale pans, near together, with a pointed piece of metal,
and tying a piece of silk thread about eight inches long into
these. In a loop at the end of this thread the mineral to be
examined is suspended. It should be a pure representative of the
mineral it is taken from, should weigh about from one hundred
grains to an ounce, and be quite dry and free from dirt. If the
piece of mineral obtained is very large, this sized portion may be
often taken from it without injury; but it will not do to mar the
beauty of a mineral to ascertain its specific gravity, and it is
generally only applicable when a small piece is at hand. With more
weights, however, a piece of a quarter pound weight may be taken if
necessary. The mineral is tied into the loop and weighed, the
weight being set down in the note book, either in grains or decimal
parts of an ounce. Call this result A. It is then weighed in some
water held in a vessel containing about a quart, taking care while
weighing it that it is entirely immersed, but at the same time does
not touch either the sides or bottom. Both weighings should be
accurate to a grain. This result we call B. The specific gravity is
found by subtracting B from A, and dividing A by the remainder. For
instance, if the mineral weighed eight hundred grains when weighed
in the air, and in the water six hundred, giving us the equation:
800 / (800 – 600) = sp. gr., or 4, which is the specific gravity of
the mineral. If the mineral whose specific gravity is sought is an
incrustation on a rock, or a mixture of a number of minerals, or
would break to pieces in the water, the specific gravity is by this
method of course unattainable, and other data must be used.

The Comparative Hardness.–The next characteristic of the
mineral to be ascertained is the comparative hardness. In
mineralogy there is a scale fixed for comparison, from 1 to 10, 10
being the hardest, the diamond, and Number 1 the soft soapstone.
These and the intermediate minerals fixed upon the scale are
generally inaccessible to those who may use the contents of this
paper, and I will give some more familiar materials for comparison.
8, 9, and 10 are the topaz, sapphire, and diamond respectively, and
as these and minerals of similar hardness will probably not be
found in any of the localities of which I make mention, we need not
become accustomed to them for the present. 7 is of sufficient
hardness to scratch glass, and is also not to be cut with the file
before mentioned, which is used for these determinations. 6 is of
the hardness of ordinary French glass. 5 is about the hardness of
horse-shoe or similar iron; 4 of the brown stone (sandstone) of
which the fronts of many city buildings, etc., are built; 3 of
marble; 2 of alabaster; and 1 as French chalk, or so soft as to be
readily cut with the finger nail. The method of using and applying
these comparisons is by having the above matters at hand, and
compare them by the relative ease with which they can be cut by
running the edge of the file over their surface. One will soon
become familiar with the scale, and it may of course then be
discarded. As it is one of the most important characteristics of
some of the minerals, it should be carefully executed, and the
result carefully considered. It is of course inapplicable under
those conditions with minerals that are in very small crystals or
in a fibrous condition.

Action of Hot Acids.–This very important test is never,
like the above, applicable upon the field, but applied when home is
reached. From the body of the mineral as pure and clean as possible
a portion is chipped, about the size of a small pea; this is
wrapped in a piece of stiff wrapping paper, and after placing it in
contact with a solid body, crushed finally by a blow from the
hammer. A pinch of the powder so obtained is taken up on the point
of a penknife, and transferred into a test tube. Two or more of
these should be provided, about six inches long. They may be
obtained in the apparatus shop for a trifle. Some hydrochloric, or,
as it is generally called, muriatic acid, is poured upon it to the
depth of about three quarters of an inch; the tube is then placed
in some boiling water heated over a lamp in a tinned or other
vessel, and allowed to boil for from ten to fifteen minutes; the
tube is then removed and its contents allowed to cool, and then
examined. If the powder has all disappeared, we term the mineral
“soluble;” if more or less is dissolved, “partly soluble;” if none,
“insoluble;” and if the contents of the tube are of a solid
transparent mass like jelly, “gelatinous;” while if transparent
gelatinous flakes are left, it is so termed. As this method of
distinguishment is always applicable, it is very important, and its
detail and result should be carefully noticed. Care should be taken
that only a small portion of the mineral is used, and also but
little acid; the action should be observed, and is frequently a
characteristic, in the case with calcspar, which effervesces while
dissolving. The acid used is hydrochloric at first, and then, if
the mineral cannot he recognized, the same treatment may be
repeated using nitric acid. Both of these acids should be at hand
and two ounces are generally sufficient.

Action of Heat.–This is, perhaps, the most important
characteristic, and, when taken with the preceding data, will
identify any of the minerals found in any one locality, which I
will describe, from each other. The heat is applied to the mineral
by means of a candle and blowpipe. A thick wax candle answers well,
and an ordinary japanned tin blowpipe, costing twenty cents, will
serve the purpose. The substance to be examined is held on a loop
of platinum wire about one inch to the left and just below the top
of the wick, which is bent toward it. Here it is steadily held, as
is shown in Fig. 1, and the flame of the candle bent over upon it,
and the heat intensified by blowing a steady and strong current of
air across it by means of the blowpipe held in the mouth and
supported by the right hand, whose elbow is resting upon the table.
The current of air is difficult to keep up by one unaccustomed to
the blowpipe, the skill of using which is readily obtained; it
consists in breathing through the nostrils, while the air is forced
out by pressure on the air held by the inflated cheeks, and not
from the lungs. This can be practiced while not using the
blow-pipe, and may readily be accomplished by one’s keeping his
cheeks distended with air and breathing at the same time.

This heat is steadily applied until the splinter of mineral has
been kept at a high red heat for a sufficient length of time to
convince one of what it may do, as fuse or not, or on the edges.
The first two are evident, as when it fuses it runs into a globule;
the last, by inspecting it before and after the heating with a
magnifying glass; sometimes it froths up when heated, and is then
said to “intumesce;” or, if it flies to fragments, “decrepitates.”
Upon the first it is further heated; but in the latter case, a new
splinter of mineral must be broken off from the mass and heated
upon the wire very cautiously until quite hot, when it may then be
readily heated further without fear of loss. For holding the
splinter of mineral, which should well represent the mass and be
quite small, is a three-inch length of platinum wire of the
thickness of a cambric-needle; this may be bought for about ten
cents at the apparatus shop. The ends should be looped, as is shown
in Fig. 2, and the mineral placed in the loop.

Sometimes a mineral has to be fused with borax, as I mention
further on in my tables. This is done by heating the wire-loop to
redness, and plunging it into some borax; what adheres is fused
upon it by heating. Some more is accumulated in the same manner,
until the loop is filled with a fair-sized globule. A small
quantity of the mineral, which had been crushed as for the acid
test, is caused to adhere to it while it is molten, and then the
heat of the blast directed upon it for some time until either the
small fragments of mineral dissolve, or positively refuse to do so.
After cooling, the aspect of the globule is noticed as to color,
transparency, etc. Care must be taken that too large an amount of
the mineral is not taken, a very minute amount being
sufficient.

I trust by the use of these distinguishing reactions one will be
able to recognize by the tables to be given the name of the mineral
in hand, especially as they are from certain parts, where all the
minerals occurring therein are known to us; and I have worded the
characteristics so that they will serve to isolate from all that
possibly could be found in that locality.

The first general locality is Bergen Hill, New Jersey. This
comprises the range of bluffs of trap rock commencing at Bergen
Point and running up behind Jersey City and Hoboken, etc., to the
part opposite about Thirtieth Street, New York, where it comes
close to the river, and from there along the river to the north for
a long distance, known as the Palisades. It is about a mile wide on
an average, and from a few feet to about two hundred feet in
height. The mineralogical localities in and upon it are at the
following parts, commencing at the south: First Pennsylvania
Railroad cuts where the mining operations are just about completed;
then the Erie Tunnel, in which the specimens that first made Bergen
Hill noted as a mineralogical locality, and whose equals have not
since been procured, were found, but which is now inaccessible to
the general public. Further north is the Morris and Essex Tunnel,
in which many fine specimens were secured, and is also
inaccessible; and last, but far from being least, is the Ontario
Tunnel at Weehawken; and, as it is the only practicable part
besides the Pennsylvania Railroad and a number of surface outcrops
which I will mention, I will commence with that.

The Weehawken Tunnel–This tunnel is now being cut
through the trap-rock for the New York, Ontario, and Western
Railroad, and will be completed in a few months, but will,
probably, be available as a mineralogical locality for a year to
come. It is located about half a mile south of the Weehawken Ferry
from Forty-second Street, New York city, and the place where to
climb upon the hill to get to the shafts leading to it is made
prominent by the large body of light-colored rock on the dump, a
few rods north of where the east entrance is to be. The western end
is in the village of New Durham, on the New Jersey Northern
Railroad, and recognized by the immense earth excavations. A pass
is necessary to gain admittance down the shafts, and this can be
procured from the office of the company, between the third and
fourth shafts to the tunnel, in the grocery and provision store
just to the north of the tramway connecting the shafts on the
surface. As it will not be necessary to go down in any of the
shafts besides the first and second in order to fulfill the objects
of this paper, no difficulty need be encountered in procuring the
pass if this is stated.

These two shafts are about eight hundred feet apart and one
hundred and seventy feet deep. A platform elevator is the mode of
access to the tunneled portion below, and a free shower-bath is
included in the descent; consequently, a rubber-coat and water
tight boots are necessary. A pair of overalls should be worn if one
is to engage in any active exploration below; candles should also
be provided, as the electric lights, at the face of the headings,
give but little light, and remind one very forcibly of a dim flash
light with a foliaged tree in front of it. The electric wires for
supplying these arrangements run along the north side of the tunnel
for those on the east headings, and on the south side for the west.
They are excellent things to keep clear of, as they have sufficient
current passing through them to knock one down; thus their position
can be readily ascertained.

Modes of Occurrence of the Minerals.–In general, the
greater number of the specimens which are to be found in the tunnel
occur in veins generally perpendicular, and with other minerals of
little or no value, as calcite, chlorite, and imperfect crystals of
the same mineral. A few occur in nodules inclosed in the solid body
of rock, and in which condition they are seldom of value. The
greater abundance are in the veins of the dark-green soft chlorite,
and some few in horizontal beds. The minerals are found in the
first condition by examining all the veins running from floor to
ceiling of the tunnel. The ores of calcite first mentioned are very
conspicuous, they being white in the dense black rock. They may be
chipped from, as there are about thirty or forty of them exposed in
each shaft, and the character of the minerals examined to see if
anything but calcite is in it. This is ascertained by a drop of
acid, as explained before, and by the descriptions given further
on. The veins of chlorite are not so conspicuous, being of a
dark-green color; but by probing along the walls with a stick or
hammer, they may be recognized by their softness, or by its dull
glistening appearance. They are comparatively few, but from an inch
to three feet wide; and minerals are found by digging it out with a
stick or a three-foot drill, to be had at the headings. Where the
most minerals occur in the chlorite is when plenty of veins of
calcite are in its vicinity, and its edges near the trap are dry
and crumbly. It is here where the minerals are found in this
crumbly chlorite, and generally in geodes–that is, the faces of
the minerals all point inward, formerly a spherical mass–rough and
uncouth on the outside, and from half an inch to nearly a foot in
diameter. These are valuable finds, and well worth digging for. The
beds of minerals generally are of but one species, and will be
mentioned under the head of the minerals occurring in them.
Besides, in the tunnel there are generally more or less perfect
minerals upon the main dump over the edge of the bluff toward the
river. Here many specimens that have escaped the eyes of the miners
may be found among the loose rock, being constantly strewn out by
the incline of the bed; in fact, this is the only place in which
quite a number of the incident minerals may be found; but I will
not linger longer on this, as I shall refer to it under the
minerals individually.

The minerals occurring at the tunnel are as follows, with their
descriptions and locations in the order of their greatest
abundance:

Calcite.–This mineral occurs in great abundance in and
about the tunnel, and from all the shafts. There are two forms
occurring there, the most abundant of which is the rhombohedral,
after Fig. 3. It can generally be obtained, however, in excellent
crystals, which, although perfect in form, are opaque, but often
large and beautiful. It is always packed with a thousand or its
multiple of other crystals into veins of a few inches thick; and
crystals are obtained by carefully breaking with edge of the cold
chisel these masses down to the fundamental form shown. As the
masses are never secured by the miners, they can always be picked
from the piles of débris around the shafts and the
dumps, and afford some little instruction as to the manner in which
a mineral is built up by crystallization, and may be subdivided by
cleavage to a crystal of the same shape exactly, but
infinitesimally small. A crystal to be worth preserving should be
about an inch in diameter, and as transparent as is attainable.

Another form of calcite which is to be sparingly found is what
is called dogtooth spar, having the form shown in Fig. 4. They
occur in clear wine-yellow-colored crystals, from a quarter to half
an inch in length; they occur in the chlorite in geodes of variable
sizes, but generally two and a half inches in diameter, and which,
when carefully broken in half, showed beautiful grottoes of these
crystals. The few of these that I have found were in the four-foot
vein of chlorite down the Shaft No. 1, to the west of the shaft
about one hundred and fifty feet, and on the south wall; it may be
readily found by probing for it, and then the geodes by digging in.
There need be no difficulty in finding this vein if these
conditions are carefully considered, or if one of the miners be
asked as to the soft vein. Both these forms of calcite may be
distinguished from the other minerals by first effervescing on
coming in contact with the acids; second, by glowing with an
intense (almost unbearably so) light when heated with the blowpipe,
but not fusing. Their specific gravity is 2.6, or near it, and
hardness about 3, or equal to ordinary unpolished white marble.

Natrolite.–The finest specimens of this mineral that
have ever been found in Bergen Hill were taken from a bed of it in
this tunnel, having in its original form, before it was cut out by
the tunnel passing through, over one hundred square feet, and from
one-half to two and a half and even three inches in thickness; it
was in all possible shapes and forms–all extremely rare and
beautiful. A large part of one end of this bed still remains, and,
by careful cutting, fine masses may be obtained. This bed may be
readily found; it is nearly horizontal, and in its center about
four feet from the floor of the tunnel, and about half an inch
thick. It is down Shaft No. 2, on the north wall, and commences
about eighty feet from the shaft. It is cut into in some places,
but there is plenty more left, and can be obtained by cutting the
rock above it and easing it out by means of the blade of a knife or
similar instrument. This natrolite is a grouping of very small but
perfect crystals, having the forms shown in Fig. 5; they are from a
quarter to an inch long, and, if not perfectly transparent, are of
a pure white color; they may be readily recognized by their form,
and occurring in this bed. Its hardness, which is seldom to be
ascertained owing to the delicacy of the crystals, is about 5, and
the specific gravity 2.2. This is readily found, but is no
distinction; its reaction before the blowpipe, however, is
characteristic, it readily fusing to a transparent globule, clear
and glassy, and by forming a jelly when heated with acids. The bed
holding the upright crystals is also natrolite in confused matted
masses. This mineral has also been found in other parts of the
shaft, but only in small druses. There is a prospect at present
that another bed will be uncovered soon, and some more fine
specimens to be easily obtained.

Pectolite, or as it is termed by the miners, “silky
spar.”–This mineral is quite abundant and in fine masses, not of
the great beauty and size of those taken from the Erie Tunnel, but
still of great uniqueness. The mineral is recognized by its
peculiar appearance, as is shown in Fig. 6, where it may be seen
that it is in groups of fine delicate fibers about an inch long,
diverging from a point into fan-shaped groups. The fibers are very
tightly packed together, as are also the groups; they are very
tough individually, and have a hardness of 4, and a specific
gravity of about 2.5. It gelatinizes on boiling with acid, and a
fragment may be readily fused in the blowpipe flame, yielding a
transparent globule. The appearance is the most striking
characteristic, and at once distinguishes this mineral from any of
the others occurring in this locality. Considerable quantities of
pectolite may generally be found on the dump, but also in Shaft No.
1, and especially No. 2. The veins of it are difficult to
distinguish from the calcite, as they are almost identical in
color, and many of the calcite veins are partly of pectolite–in
fact, every third or fourth vein will contain more or less of it.
There is, however, a very fine vein of pectolite about twenty-five
feet further east from the natrolite bed; it runs from the floor to
ceiling, and is about two inches in thickness; some specimens of
which I took from these were unusually unique in both size and
appearance. It makes a very handsome specimen for the cabinet, and
should be carefully trimmed to show the characteristics of the
mineral.

Datholite.–This mineral has been found very frequently
in the tunnel, it occurring in pockets in the softer trap near the
chlorite, and also in the latter, generally at a depth of one
hundred and fifty feet from the surface, and consequently near the
ceiling of the tunnel. All that has been found of any great beauty
has been in the western end of the Shaft No. 1 and the eastern of
Shaft No. 2, where the trap is quite soft; here it is found nearly
every day in greater or less quantity, and from this some may
generally be found on the dump, or, in the vein of chlorite which I
mentioned as a locality for the dogtooth spar, considerable may be
obtained in it and on its western edge near the ceiling. A ladder
about thirteen feet long is used for attending the lights, and may
generally be borrowed, and access to the remainder of this pocket
thus gained. Datholite is also very characteristic in appearance,
and can only be confounded with some forms of calcite occurring
near it. It occurs in small glassy, nearly globular crystals; they
are generally not over three-sixteenths of an inch in diameter, and
generally pure and perfectly transparent, having a hardness of a
little over 5, and specific gravity of 3; as it generally occurs as
a druse upon the trap, or an apopholite, calcite, etc., this is
seldom attainable, however, and we have a very distinctive
characteristic in another test: this is the blowpipe, under which
it at first intumesces and then fuses to a transparent globule, and
the flame, after playing upon it, is of a deep green color. Nitric
acid must be used to boil it up with, and with it it may be readily
gelatinized. This last test will seldom be necessary, however, and
may be dispensed with if the hardness and blowpipe reactions may be
ascertained.

Apopholite.–This beautiful mineral has been found in
fair abundance at times in Shafts No. 1 and 2 in pockets, and
seldom in place, most of it being taken from the loose stone at the
mouth of the shaft, and it may generally be found on the dump. It
is readily mistaken for calcite by the miners and those unskilled
in mineralogy, but a drop of acid will quickly show the difference.
The sizes of the crystals are very various, from an eighth of an
inch long or thick, to, in one case, an inch and a half. The colors
have been varied from white to nearly all tints, including pink,
purple, blue, and green; the white variety is, however, the most
abundant, and makes a handsome cabinet specimen. The crystals are
generally packed together in a mass, but are frequently set apart
as heavy druses of crystals having the form shown in Fig. 7.
Sometimes, as in the former grouping, the crystals are without the
pyramidal terminations, and are then right square prisms. The
fracture being at perfect right angles, distinguishes it from
calcite. Its hardness is generally fully 5, the specific gravity
between 2.4 and 2.5; it is difficult to fuse before the blowpipe,
but is finally fused into an opaque globule. Upon heating with
nitric acid it partly dissolves, and the remainder becomes flaky
and gelatinous. Apopholite, although quite rare, now may be bought
from the men, or at least one of the engineers of Shaft No. 2’s
elevator, and generally at low terms.

Phrenite.–This mineral is quite abundant in Shafts No. 1
and 2, in very small masses, incrustations, and even in small
crystals. It occurs embedded in or incrusting the trap, and also
with calcite and apopholite. The only sure place to find it is at
the southwest side of an opening through the pile of drift rock
under the trestle work of the tramway, between shaft No. 1 and the
dump, and within a few feet of a number of wooden vats sunk into
the ground seen just before descending the hills and near the edge.
Here on a number of blocks of trap it may be found, a greenish
white incrustation about as thick as a knife blade; it also may be
found on the main dump, and is sometimes found in plates one-eighth
of an inch thick, of a darker green color, upon calcite. Its
easiest distinguishment from the other minerals of this locality,
with which it might be confounded, is its great hardness of from 6
to 7. It is very fragile and brittle, however, and is never
perfectly transparent, but quite opaque; its specific gravity is
2.9, and it is readily fused before the blowpipe after intumescing.
It partly dissolves in acid without gelatinizing, leaving a flaky
residue; it is a beautiful mineral when in masses or crystals of a
dark green color, but the best place in the vicinity to secure
specimens of this kind is, as I will detail hereafter, at Paterson,
N. J.

Iron and Copper Pyrites.–Both of these common but
frequently beautiful minerals occur in the tunnel and adjacent
rocks in great abundance. The crystals are generally about
one-fourth of an inch in diameter, and groups of these may be
frequently obtained on the dump in the shafts, especially No. 1 and
2, and where the rock is being cleared away for the eastern
entrance to the tunnel. They resemble each other very much; the
iron pyrites, however, is in cubical forms and having the great
hardness of from 6 to 7, while the copper pyrites, less abundant
and in forms having triangles for bases, but having sometimes other
forms and a hardness of but 3 to 4. Both are similar in aspect to a
piece of brass, and cannot be mistaken for any other mineral. The
form of the copper pyrites is shown in Fig. 8; the iron is, as
before noted, in cubes, more or less modified.

Stilbite.–Small quantities of this beautiful mineral
have been found in Shaft No. 2, in a small bed of but a few square
feet in area, but quite thick and appearing much like natrolite.
This bed was about one hundred feet east from Shaft No. 2, and in
the center of the heading when it was at that point. It has been
encountered since in small quantities, and it would do well to look
out for it in the fresh tunneled portion after the date appended to
this paper. It generally occurs in the form shown in Fig. 9,
grouped very similarly to natrolite, and being right upon the rock
or a thin bed of itself. The crystals are generally half an inch
long, but often less. The modifications of the above form, which
are frequent in this species, strike one forcibly of the
resemblance they bear to a broad stone spear head on a diminutive
scale, with a blunted edge; their hardness is about 4, specific
gravity 2.2, the color generally a pearly white or grayish. After a
long boiling with nitric acid it gelatinizes, but it foams up and
fuses to a transparent glass before the blowpipe. A little stilbite
may often be found on the dumps.

Laumonite occurs in very small quantities on calcite or
apopholite, and can hardly be expected to be found on the trip; but
as it might be found, I will detail some of its characteristics.
Hardness 4, specific gravity 2.3; it generally occurs in small
crystals, but more frequently in a crumbly, chalky mass, which it
becomes upon exposure to the air. The crystals are generally
transparent and frequently tinged yellow in color. It gelatinizes
by boiling with acid, and after intumescing before the blowpipe,
fuses to a frothy mass. To keep this mineral when in crystals from
crumbling upon exposure it may be dipped in a thin mastic varnish
or in a gum-arabic solution.

Heulandite.–This rare mineral has been found under the
same conditions as laumonite in Shaft No. 2, but it is seldom to be
met with, and then in small crystals. It is of a pure white color,
sometimes transparent. It intumesces and readily fuses before the
blowpipe, and dissolves in acid without gelatinizing. Hardness 4,
specific gravity 2.2.

The few other minerals occurring in the tunnel are so extremly
rare as not to be met with by any other than an expert, and it is
impossible to detail the localities, as they generally occur as
minute druses or incrustations upon other minerals with which they
may be confounded, and have been removed as soon as discovered. The
minerals referred to are analcime, chabazite, Thompsonite, and
finally, the mineral which I first found in this formation,
Hayesine, which is extremely rare, and of which I only obtained
sufficient to cover a square inch. The particulars in regard to its
locality, etc., maybe found in the American Journal of
Sciences for June, page 458. I will now sum up the
characteristics of these several minerals of this locality in the
table:

To Distinguish the Minerals together the one from the
other.–Calcite by effervescing on placing a drop of acid upon
it. Natrolite resembles stilbite, but may be distinguished by
gelatinizing readily with hydrochloric acid and by not intumescing
when heated before the blowpipe; from the other minerals by the
form of the crystals and their setting, also the locality in the
tunnel in which it was found.

Pectolite sometimes resembles some of the others, but may be
readily distinguished by its tough long fibers, not brittle
like natrolite. Datholite may generally be distinguished by the
form of its crystals and their glassy appearance, with great
hardness, and by tingeing the flame from the blowpipe of a true
green color. Apopholite is distinguished from calcite, as noticed
under that species, and from the others by its form, difficult
fusibility, and part solubility.

Phrenite is characterized by its hardness, greenish color,
occurrence, and action of acid. Iron pyrites is always known by its
brassy metallic aspect and great hardness. Copper pyrites, by its
aspect from the other minerals, and from iron pyrites by its
inferior hardness and less gravity.

Stilbite is characterized by its form, difficult gelatinizing,
and intumescence before the blowpipe; from natrolite as mentioned
under that species.

Laumonite is known by its generally chalky appearance and a
probable failure in finding it.

Heulandite is distinguished from stilbite by its crystals and
perfect solubility; from apopholite by form of crystals.

In the next part of this paper I will commence with Staten
Island.

July 1, 1882. (To be continued.)

ANTISEPTICS.

The author has endeavored to ascertain what agents are able to
destroy the spores of bacilli, how they behave toward the
microphytes most easily destroyed, such as the moulds, ferments,
and micrococci, and if they suffice at least to arrest the
development of these organisms in liquids favorable to their
multiplication. His results with phenol, thymol, and salicylic acid
have been unfavorable. Sulphurous acid and zinc chloride also
failed to destroy all the germs of infection. Chlorine, bromine,
and mercuric chloride gave the best results; solutions of mercuric
chloride, nitrate, or sulphate diluted to 1 part in 1,000 destroy
spores in ten minutes.–R. Koch.

CRYSTALLIZATION AND ITS EFFECTS UPON IRON.

By N.B. WOOD, Member of the Civil Engineers’ Club, of
Cleveland.

[Footnote: Read January 10th. 1882.]

The question has been asked, “What is the chemically scientific
definition of crystallization?” Now as the study of crystallization
and its effect upon matter, physically as well as chemically, will
be of interest, considering the subject matter for discussion, I
shall not only endeavor to answer the question, as I understand it,
but try to treat it somewhat technologically.

Having this object in view, I have prepared or brought about the
conditions necessary to the formation of a few crystals of various
chemical substances, which for various reasons, such as lack of
time and bad weather, are not as perfect as could be desired, but
will perhaps subserve the purpose for which they were designed. I
think you will agree with me that they are beautiful, if they are
imperfect, and I can assure you that the pleasure of watching their
formation fully repays one for the trouble, if for no other reason
than the mere gratification of the senses. From the earliest times
and by all races of men, the crystal has been admired and imitated,
or improved by cutting and polishing into faces of various
substances. I have also procured specimens of steel and iron which
show the effect of crystallization, which was produced (perhaps)
under known conditions, so that the conclusions which we arrive at
from their study will have a fair chance of being logical, at
least, and perhaps of some practical value.

When we examine inanimate nature we find two grand divisions of
matter, fluid and solid. These two divisions may be
subdivided into, the former gaseous and liquid, the latter
amorphous and crystalline; but whether one or the other of these
divisions be considered, their ultimate and common division will be
the ATOM. By the atom we understand that portion of matter which
admits of no further division, which, though as inconceivable for
minuteness as space is for extent, has still definite weight, form,
and volume; which under favorable circumstances, has that power or
force called cohesion, the intensity of which constitutes strength
of material, which every engineer is supposed to understand, but
which lies far beyond the powers of the human mind for
comprehension or analysis. When we apply a magnet to a mass of iron
filings, we observe the particles arrange themselves in regular
order, having considerable strength in one direction, and very
little or none in any other. Now, although we understand very
little about the force which holds these particles in position, we
do know that it is actual force applied from without and maintained
at the expense of some of the known sources of force. But the force
or power or property of cohesion seems to be a quality stored
within the atom itself, in many cases similar to magnetism, having
powerful attraction in some directions and very little or none in
others. A crystal of mica, for instance, or gypsum may be divided
to any degree of thinness, but is very difficult to even break.
This property of crystals is termed cleavage. Cohesion and
crystallization are affected variously by various circumstances,
such as heat or its absence, motion or its absence, etc. In fact,
almost every phenomenon of nature within the range of ordinary
temperatures has effects which may be favorable to the
crystallization of some substances, and at the same time
unfavorable to others; so it will be seen that it is impossible to
lay down any rule for it except for named substances, like
substances requiring like conditions, to bring its atoms into that
state of equilibrium where crystallization can occur. If we examine
crystals carefully we find, not only that nature has here provided
geometric forms of marvelous beauty and exactness, with faces of
polish and quoins of acuteness equal to the work of the most
skillful lapidist, “but that in whatever manner or under whatever
circumstances a crystal may have been formed, whether in the
laboratory of the chemist or the workshop of nature, in the bodies
of animals or the tissues of plants, up in the sky or in the depths
of the earth, whether so rapidly that we may literally see its
growth, or by the slow aggregation of its molecules during perhaps
thousands of years, we always find that the arrangement of the
faces is subject to fixed and definite laws.” We find also that a
crystal is always finished and has its form as perfectly developed
when it is the minutest point discernible by the microscope as when
it has attained its ultimate growth. I might add parenthetically
that crystals are sometimes of immense size, one at Milan of quartz
being 3 feet 3 inches long and 5 feet 6 inches in circumference,
and is estimated to weigh over 800 pounds; and a gigantic beryl at
Grafton, N. H., is over 4 feet in length and 32 inches in diameter,
and weighs not less than 5,000 pounds; but the most perfect
specimens are of small size, as some accident is sure to overtake
the larger ones before they acquire their growth, to interfere with
their symmetry or transparency. This you will see abundantly
illustrated by the examples which I have prepared, as also the
constancy of the angles of like faces. Chemically speaking, the
crystal is always a perfect chemical body, and can never be a
mechanical mixture. This fact has been of great value to the
science of chemistry in developing the atomic theory, which has
demonstrated that a body can only exist chemically combined when a
definite number of atoms of each element is present, and that there
is no certainty of such proportions existing except in the crystal.
I hold before you a crystal of common alum. Its chemical symbol
would be
Al₂O₃,3SO₃+KO,SO₃+24H
₂O. If we knew its weight and wished to know its ultimate
component parts, we could calculate them more readily than we could
acquire that knowledge by any other means. But the elements of this
quantity of uncrystallized alum could not be computed. Then we may
define crystallization to be the operation of nature wherein the
chemical atoms or molecules of a substance have sufficient
polarized force to arrange themselves about a central attracting
point in definite geometrical forms.

Fresenius defines it thus: “Every operation, or process,
whereby bodies are made to pass from the fluid to the solid state,
and to assume certain fixed, mathematically definable,
regular forms.” It would be folly for me to attempt to
criticise Fresenius, but I give you both definitions, and you can
take your choice. The definition of Fresenius, however, will not
suit our present purpose, because the crystallization of wrought
iron occurs, or seems to, after the iron has acquired a
solid state.

Iron, as you all know, is known to the arts in three forms: cast
or crude, steel, and wrought or malleable. Cast iron varies much in
chemical composition, being a mixture of iron and carbon chiefly,
as constant factors, with which silicium in small quantities (from
1 to 5 per cent.), phosphorus, sulphur, and sometimes manganese
(e.g. spiegeleisen) and various other elements are combined. All of
these have some effect upon the crystalline structure of the mass,
but whatever crystallization takes place occurs at the moment of
solidification, or between that and a red heat, and varies much,
according to the time occupied in cooling, as to its composition.
My own experience leads me to think that a cast iron having about 3
per cent. of carbon, a small per centage of phosphorus, say about
½ of 1 per cent., and very small quantities of silicium, the
less the better, and traces of manganese (the two latter substances
slagging out almost entirely during the process of remelting
for casting), makes a metal best adapted to the general use of the
founder. Such proportions will make a soft, even grained, dark gray
iron, whose crystals are small and bright, and whose fracture will
be uneven and sharp to the touch. The phosphorus in this instance
gives the metal liquidity at a low temperature, but does not seem
to influence the crystallization to any appreciable extent. The two
elements to be avoided by the founder are silicium and sulphur.
These give to iron a peculiar crystalline appearance easily
recognized by an experienced person. Silicium seems to obliterate
the sparkling brilliancy of the crystalline faces of good iron, and
replace them with very fine dull ones only discernible with a lens,
and the iron breaks more like stoneware than metal, while sulphur
in appreciable quantities gives a striated crystalline texture
similar to chilled iron, and very brittle. Phosphorus in very large
quantities acts similarly. The form of the crystal in cast iron is
the octahedron, so that right angles with sharp corners should be
avoided as much as possible in castings, as the most likely
position for a crystal to take would be with its faces along the
line of the angle. Steel, to be of any value as such, must
be made of the purest material. Phosphorus and sulphur must
not exist, except in the most minute quantities, or the metal is
worthless. If either of these substances be present in a bar of
steel, its structure will be coarse, crystalline and weak. The
reason of this is unknown, but probably their presence reduces the
power of cohesion; and, that being reduced, gives the molecules of
steel greater freedom to arrange themselves in conformity with
their polarity, and this in its turn again weakens the mass by the
tendency of the crystals to cleavage in certain directions. Carbon
is a constant element in steel, as it is in cast iron, but is
frequently replaced by chromium, titanium, etc., or is said to be,
though it is not quite clear to me how it can be so if steel is a
chemical compound. However this may be, we know that a piece of
good soft steel breaks with a fine crystalline fracture, and the
same piece hardened when broken shows either an amorphous structure
or one very finely crystalline, which would indicate that the
crystals had been broken up by the action of heat, and that they
had not had sufficient time to return to their original position on
account of the sudden cooling. The tendency of the molecules of
steel after hardening to assume their natural position when cold
seems to be very great, for we have often seen large pieces of
steel burst asunder after hardening, though lying untouched, and
sometimes with such force as to hurl the fragments to some
distance. If a piece of steel be subjected to a bright yellow or
white heat its nature is entirely changed, and the workman says it
is burnt. Though this is not actually a fact, it does well enough
to express that condition of the metal. Steel cannot be burnt
unless some portion of it has been oxidized. The carbon would of
course be attacked first, its affinity for oxygen being greatest;
but we find nothing wanting in a piece of burnt steel. It can, by
careful heating, hammering and hardening, be returned to its former
excellence. Then what change has taken place? I should say that two
modifications have been made, one physical, the other chemical. The
change chemically is that of a chemical compound to a mixture of
carbon and iron, so that in a chemical sense it resembles cast
iron. The change physically is that of crystallization, being due
partly to chemical change and partly to the effect of heat. I have
procured a specimen of steel showing beautifully the effect of
overheating. The specimen is labeled No. 1, and is a piece of Park
Brothers’ steel (one of the best brands made in America). It has
been heated at one end to proper heat for hardening, and at the
other is what is technically called “burnt.” It has been broken at
intervals of about 1½ inches, showing the transition from
amorphous or proper hardening to highly crystalline or “burnt.”
Malleable or wrought iron is or should be pure iron. Of course in
practice it is seldom such, but generally nearly so, being usually
98, 99, or even more per cent. It is exceedingly prone to
crystallization, the purer varieties being as much subject to it as
others, except those contaminated with phosphorus, which affects it
similarly with steel, and makes it very weak to cross and tensile
strains. I have never estimated the quantity present in any except
one specimen, a bar of 1½ round, which literally fell to
pieces when dropped across a block of iron. It had 1.32 per cent.
of phosphorus and was very crystalline, though the crystals were
not very large. Iron which has been, when first made, quite
fibrous, when subjected to a series of shocks for a greater or less
period, according to their intensity, when subjected to intense
currents of electricity, or when subjected to high temperatures, or
has by mechanical force been pushed together, or, as it is called,
upset, becomes extremely crystalline. Under all of these
circumstances it is subjected to one physical phenomenon, that of
motion. It would seem that if a bar of iron were struck, the blow
would shake the whole mass, and consequently the relative position
of the particles remain unchanged, but this is not the case. When
the blow is struck it takes an appreciable length of time for the
effect to be communicated to the other end so as to be heard, if
the distance is great. This shows that a small force is
communicated from particle to particle independently along the
whole mass, and that each atom actually moves independently of its
neighbor. Then, if there be any attraction at the time tending to
arrange it differently, it will conform to it. So much for theory
with regard to this important matter. It looks well on paper, but
do the facts of the case correspond? If practically demonstrated
and systematically executed, experiments fail to corroborate the
theory, and if, furthermore, we find there is no necessity for the
theory, we naturally conclude that it is all wrong, or, at least,
imperfectly understood. Now there is one other quality imparted to
iron by successive shocks, which, I think, is independent of
crystallization, and this quality is hardness and consequent
brittleness. One noticeable feature about this also is, that as
“absolute cohesion” or tensile strength diminishes, “relative
cohesion” or strength to resist crushing increases. Specimens Nos.
2, 3, and 4 are pieces of Swedish iron, probably from the
celebrated mines of Dannemora. Nos. 2 and 3 are parts of the same
bolt, which, after some months’ use on a “heading machine” in a
bolt and nut works, where it was subjected to numerous and violent
shocks, (perhaps 50,000 or 60,000 per day), it broke short off, as
you see in No 2, showing a highly crystalline fracture. To test
whether this structure continued through the bolt, I had it nicked
by a blacksmith’s cold chisel and broken. The specimen shows that
it is still stronger at that point than at the point where it is
actually broken, but the resulting fracture shows the same
crystalline appearance. I next had specimen No. 4 cut from a fresh
bar of iron which had never been used for anything. It also shows a
crystalline fracture, indicating that this peculiarity had existed
in the iron of both from the beginning.

I next took specimen No. 3 and subjected it to a careful
annealing, taking perhaps two hours in the operation. Although it
is a 1-1/8 bolt and has V threads cut upon it we were unable to
break it, although bent cold through an arc of 90°, and
probably would have doubled upon itself if we had had the means to
have forced it. Now what does this show? Have the crystals been
obliterated by the process of annealing, or has only their cleavage
been destroyed, so that when they break, instead of showing
brilliant, sparkling faces, they are drawn into a fibrous looking
mass? The latter seems to be the most plausible theory, to which I
admit objections may be raised. For my own part, I am inclined to
the belief that the crystal exists in all iron which is finished
above a bright red heat, and that between that and black heat they
are formed and have whatever characteristics circumstances may
confer upon them, modified by the action of agencies heretofore
mentioned.

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