Chapter XI: TECHNOLOGY--American Workshops.--The care of tools and practice (3)

Steam is furnished by six main double-ended boilers, having four furnaces at each end, and one auxiliary boiler, with a heating surface of 900 sq. ft., the dimensions of the former being 15 ft. 2 in. by 18 ft., and of the latter 10 ft. by 9 ft. long. The total area of firegrate surface is 863 sq. ft, and of heating surface 26.936 sq. ft. Each engine room is kept cool by four 4 ft. 6 in. fans. Forced draught is produced by twelve 5 ft. 6 in. fans, three being stationed in each stokehold. The electric lighting machinery consists of three dynamos of Siemens manufacture driven by a Willans engine, each of which is capable of producing a current of 400 amperes. The after main engines can be easily disconnected and worked separately for slow speeds.

The Blake had her steering gear tested on Tuesday, Nov. 17. With both engines going full power ahead and turning to starboard, with her helm hard over 35 deg., she completed the circle in 4 min. 40 sec., the port circle being completed in 5 min. 5 sec. The diameter was estimated approximately to be about 575 yards. Forty-five seconds were required to change from engine steering to steering by hand. By manual gear the helm was moved from midships to hard a-starboard in 40 sec., from starboard to hard a-port in 2 min. 10 sec., and from hard a-port to midships in 2 min. 20 sec. The heavy balanced rudder and the speed of the ship throwing great labor upon the crew manning the wheels, the hand gear was afterward disconnected and the connection with the steering engine completed in 40 sec.

On Nov. 18, when the vessel went on speed trials, the draught of the vessel was 24 ft. 8 in. forward and 26 ft. 8 in. aft, which gave her the mean load immersion provided for in her design. There was a singular absence of vibration, said to be due to the space over which the machinery is spread, but perhaps also due, in part at least, to the number of cranks, as the cylinders deliver six throws throughout the circle of revolution. The results of each hour's steaming are as under:

Hours. Revolutions. Steam. Power. 1st hour 86.86 120.6 13,568 2d " 89.26 128.0 15,298 3d " 88.55 125.0 14,251 4th " 89.58 127.6 14,759 5th " 89.40 125.0 14,394 6th " 89.55 125.0 14,512 7th " 89.15 126.0 14,893

The trial was originally intended to continue for eight hours, but at the end of the seventh, as the light began to fade, and as, moreover, the engines were working with a smoothness and efficiency that showed no signs of flagging, it was considered expedient to terminate the run.

Steam pressure in boilers 125.5 lb. Air pressure in stoke holds 0.42 in. Revolutions per minute, starboard 88.41 Revolutions per minute, port 89.39

| Starboard. | Port. | +---------+--------+--------+--------| | Forward| Aft | Forward| Aft | Vacuum in condensers. | 27.85| 27.85| 28.1 | 29.1 | Mean pressure in cylinders, high | 43.04| 38.95| 42.36| 42.45| Mean pressure in cylinders, inter.| 31.49| 30.82| 30.17| 28.38| Mean pressure in cylinders, low | 11.68| 12.4 | 12.85| 12.32| Indicated horse power each engine | 3631.42| 3589.07| 3721.37| 3583.50| Total | 7220.39 | 7304.88 | Collectively | 14525.37 |

As will be seen, the collective power exceeds the contract power under natural draught by 1,525.37 horses, and was obtained with less than the Admiralty limit of air pressure. The coal used on the occasion was Harris' deep navigation, but no account was taken of the amount consumed. Four runs were made on the measured mile with and against the tide, the mean of means disclosing a speed of 19.12 knots. The average speed of the seven hours' steaming, as measured by patent log, was 19.28 knots. This fell short by over three-quarters of a knot of what was anticipated in proportion to the power indicated by the engines. Up to the limit of air pressure used the boilers answered admirably.

* * * * *

HINTS TO SHIPMASTERS.

A Master in charge of a tramp steamer in these days _must_, if he wishes for any comfort in life, take good care of himself, for the pressure and hurry which is inseparable from his position, combined with the responsibilities and anxieties of his calling, put a very great strain upon him, and will, in time, unless he takes special care, have a serious effect on his health; this is more particularly the case with men of the nervous temperament. It cannot be expected that in this age, when so many thousands of people on shore fail from overwork and "high pressure," steamship masters, who as a class, are overworked and harrassed to a serious extent, should altogether escape. Again, unless a shipmaster takes an interest in the health, comfort, and well-being of his crew, he, in the first place, neglects one of his duties, and, secondly, sows the seeds of discomfort and annoyance to himself. Let us consider his duties to himself personally.

First, then, he must prepare himself to undergo, periodically, the discomfort of want of proper rest and irregularity in times of meals; he may, for instance, not be able to leave the bridge for over forty-eight hours or more on a stretch, and, of course, any shipmaster who may read this will know that this is no uncommon occurrence; during this time he may be unable to get regular meals, and what he does get may have to be eaten in a hurry and at an anxious time when he cannot properly enjoy and digest it.

A time like this may be followed by a period of rest, when the days will hang heavily on his hands, and he will be tempted to long afternoon sleeps merely to get through the weary hours.

Now, as a course of this kind of thing is bound, unless care be exercised, to act unfavorably on the digestion and bring on some form of dyspepsia, so also the nights and days of great anxiety and moments of great strain will, besides increasing the dyspeptic tendency, be apt to bring on nervousness in some form or other. It is a fact that in these times, and often from want of attention to health, nearly every shipmaster long in harness is more or less nervous.

There are people in the present day who have actually talked of making their chief engineer (who exercises his special trade at sea or on shore as suits himself and is in no sense _a seaman_) the master of the vessel, and turning the shipmaster into a mere pilot. Those who talk in this way forget that to do this the _responsibility_ must be shifted on to the engineer. Of course such a change as this cannot happen, the country would not stand it; but I merely mention it to show the vast amount of ignorance there is, even among those who should be well informed, as to the real strain and responsibility on the modern shipmaster.

The master then, if anxious to do the best for himself, should, if possible, be a total abstainer, for two reasons: first, because, as he will be obliged to be irregular in his feeding, alcohol in any form will do him harm and tend to augment the dyspepsia. Secondly, because, often in times of great mental strain, combined with exposure, a glass of spirits will give _great temporary relief_ (which is of itself a dangerous fact for a weak-minded man), but this will always be followed by depression, and will in reality be doing great harm instead of lasting good. Spirituous liquor may be necessary for a few, but these should use it under medical advice if at all. It is a hard thing for many men to give up their grog, but there is not a man of any experience in the merchant service who has not seen its blasting effects on many a master and officer. It is almost impossible to find a substitute for it which shall recommend itself to anyone who has really a liking for it, about the only things being coffee, lime juice, or lemonade and ginger ale. So-called temperance drinks are all of them very nasty stuff, besides containing a large percentage of alcohol; rather than swallow these one had better not change his habits. The master then, being an abstainer, should also give some care to his diet. Very heavy meals of meat and strong food should not be taken at sea, because there are no means of taking proper exercise, and it is impossible to work them off properly. Again, long, heavy, after-dinner sleeps should not be indulged in; a quiet nap of ten minutes would in many cases be beneficial, but the long sleep up to five o'clock is positively harmful to any man. One of the _best_ things a master can do is to take up some work. No matter what it is so long as he takes an interest in it, such as joiner work, fret work, painting, writing, learning a musical instrument or a foreign language, or anything of that sort. It will be of incalculable benefit to both mind and body.

On occasions when it is absolutely necessary to be on deck for long periods, the steward ought to have orders to attend _himself personally_ to the master's wants--to see that his meals are properly cooked and brought up to him at regular intervals, and that there is always a _well made_ cup of coffee to be had when wanted. The ordinary cup of coffee as made at sea is generally a beastly mixture and not worth drinking. The steward has an easy life and should not be spared at these times, but should always be turned out when wanted, _night or day_, and made to look after these things himself, and a man who growls at having this to do or who will not take the proper trouble to see things well cooked and served up nicely with cheerfulness should _at once_ be discharged, and a good man, of whom there are plenty, shipped in his place. The master, of course, should always be on the bridge when required, and in fog certainly all the time; but many men are over-cautious in this respect through sheer nervousness, and oftentimes expose and fatigue themselves to no purpose, harass their officers, and make them unreliable, so that when the time comes that their presence on deck is absolutely necessary, they are, through exhaustion of mind and body, in anything but a fit state to take charge of the ship, or be cool and collected in a moment of sudden emergency. Should a man feel that through hard work and exposure he is becoming shaky, he should at once leave off _entirely_ the false relief which drink gives and consult a physician. A _good_ man with _experience_ will in almost any case be able to help him, and, besides medicine, give him such hints for regulating his diet and mode of living as will enable him to bear better than before the strain and wear and tear of his life.[1]

[Footnote 1: For the _fluttering_, unsteady feeling often felt,
the following, if not abused, will be found beneficial: Take as
much bromide of potassium as will lie, not heaped up, on a
shilling, and half a teaspoonful of sal volatile (aromatic spirits
of ammonia). Mix in a wine glass full of water; but this should
only be taken when absolutely necessary, and not habitually.]

As to the crew. A master who has full command of himself ought to be able to rule judiciously even the most unruly crew, but before he is in a really _strong_ position to do this, he must treat them fairly and honestly. In many cases a bad start is made with a new set of men (of course this will not apply to the high class mail steamers, nor perhaps to what are termed weekly boats). They come on board and find their forecastle just as the last crew left it, full of a week's filth,[2] possibly lumbered up with hauling lines and what-not, wanting painting badly, and often showing unmistakable signs of overhead leakage. This is quite enough to make a respectable man discontented, and naturally so. In common fairness, the often wretched place that the men have to occupy ought to be put in decent order to receive the new crew. Again, they should be distinctly made to understand, when signing articles, what their _food_ will be, and what their pay and allowances will come to. It is to be feared that bad feeding is the cause of much trouble in these days. From first coming on board discipline should be _enforced_; many officers, both young and old, are greatly remiss in enforcing this, with the consequence that day by day it is harder to do, till at last it is impossible, and anarchy reigns triumphant. If a seaman finds that he is _fairly_ treated, and that he _must_ obey orders, he will in nine cases out of ten conduct himself well, and give no trouble. The more high class type of man the master is the better he will treat his men, and the more exacting he will be in compelling discipline, both in his officers and crew.

[Footnote 2: This should not be. It is most decidedly one of the
master's duties to see that the men on _both_ sides of the
forecastle keep their places clean, and for this purpose it is a
very good plan to give them an hour or two every week, and it is
only right that if a crew fled a forecastle clean to receive them,
they should be made to leave it in the same state.]

Engineers and firemen are often sources of annoyance in these days. Firemen are a lower class generally than seamen, and more inclined to insubordination; in many cases the engineers are quite incapable of keeping them in proper order, and it sometimes happens that in an engine room row it falls to the lot of the deck officers to restore discipline.

The master should remember that his engineers are officers of the ship, with their own responsibility, that his chief engineer is of some importance on board, and that it is necessary in the owner's interests that they should work together amicably. In ordinary cargo vessels, the engineer is often better educated than the master himself, and should _never_ be treated as an inferior while he behaves with proper respect to the master. To his own deck officers the master should behave with ordinary courtesy, and, if he finds them trustworthy, should not spoil them and render them unreliable by always keeping on or about the bridge; an officer who is never left by himself in charge will soon fancy himself incapable. It is to be feared that many young officers are spoiled in this way.

Familiarity with the men before the mast is always unwise. It is not a good practice in ordinary vessels, where a new crew is shipped each voyage, to begin by calling the men "Tom" and "Jack." An officer to have any real command over the men _must_ keep himself apart from them and show them the difference of their positions. A judicious shipmaster will warn his young mates about this.

The usual system of mess room for engineers, the officers messing in the cabin with the master, is a good one, though it is a question whether it would not be a _very_ good thing if the chief engineer always messed with the master so long as he was a decent, respectable man. It is often one of the causes of ill health in the master that he keeps too much to himself, seldom if ever speaking to his officers except on business connected with the ship. A man who does this has far too much time to think, and if he has any trivial illness is apt to brood over it and actually make himself ill.

It is much wiser and better for all concerned that the master should, within certain limits, be on friendly terms at any rate with his first mate, if not with all his officers. Any man with common tact can always find means for checking undue familiarity, and it will generally be found that officers treated as equals instead, as is often the case, as though they were an inferior race of beings, will be much more inclined to do their work with zeal, and to back up the master in all his troubles. Many men when they get command seem to forget that they ever were officers themselves. It is the general opinion that the strict ship is the most comfortable one, and as a rule the master who will take the trouble to enforce proper discipline fore and aft is just the very man who will also be considerate and courteous to those who sail under his command--whatever be their rank.

To govern others well a man _must_ first have learned to govern himself. The first lesson for a young seaman to learn is obedience, and unless he does learn this lesson he will not know how to enforce it when he becomes an officer, and still less will he be fit for his position when he obtains command. It is to be feared that many _never_ learn this lesson, and that this is the cause of much of the insubordination rife in these days.

If the modern hard-driven shipmaster would exercise greater care as to his health and habits, and would strive more after being a true _master_ over his ship's company, and this is easier to be gained by respect than fear, things would go on more smoothly, and when he did get away for a time from all the petty annoyances of shore, which are more especially felt in his home port, he would have a time of comparative comfort, would live longer and happier, and, possibly, escape the terrible attacks of nervous depression which have finished the career of many a too finely strung _fin de siecle_ shipmaster. --_Nautical Magazine._

* * * * *

ALFRED TENNYSON.

Alfred Tennyson, the poet laureate of England, was born at Sornersby, Lincolnshire, April 9, 1810, and was the third of a large family of children, eight of whom were boys and three girls. His father was a clergyman, a man of remarkably fine abilities; his mother, as should be the mother of a great poet, was a deeply religious woman with a sensitive spirit that was keenly attuned to the aspects of nature. It was from her that Tennyson inherited his poetic temperament combined with the love of study that was a characteristic of his father. Tennyson's brother, Charles, superintended the construction of his younger brother's first poetic composition, which was written upon a slate when the great laureate was a child of seven. Tennyson's parents were people who had sufficient of this world's wealth to educate their sons well, and Alfred was sent to Trinity College, where he as a mere lad won the gold medal for a poem in blank verse entitled "Timbuctoo," which is to be found in all the volumes of his collected works, though many of the other poems produced in that period are not given place.

His first volume of poems was published in 1827, and in them the influence of Byron, whom he passionately admired, is everywhere visible. In 1830 he issued another volume, which defined his position as a poet of great promise, but which was criticised by Christopher North with the most biting sarcasm, and which was held up to ridicule by the great Lockhart. More than ten years followed in which the poet wrote nothing, then he began a literary career which lifted him to the highest place in the literary world, a place which he has since held, and as a lyric poet he has never been equaled.

In 1850 he issued that most wonderful production in any language, "In Memoriam," which has enriched the English language by hundreds of quotations and which in its delicate sentiment, its deep sorrow, its reflective tenderness, has been the voice of many a soul similarly bereft.

Had Tennyson never written anything but "In Memoriam," his fame would have been assured, but "The Idylls of the King," "Enoch Arden," "The Princess," and other great compositions will stand forever to his credit. Of Tennyson's personal character much has been said and written. As pure and sweet as his poetry, beloved by a large circle of friends, active still in literary work, it may be said of him that he has always worn

"without reproach
The grand old name of gentleman,"

and that his mellow old age is the ripening into fruit of "the white flower of a blameless life."--_Chicago Graphic._

* * * * *

FIFTIETH YEAR OF THE PRINCE OF WALES.

In the case of a distinguished person whose public life has a claim to be regarded with national and social interest, his fiftieth birthday must be considered a jubilee; and Monday, Nov. 9, in the present year, completing that number of anniversaries for the eldest son of her Majesty the Queen, the heir apparent to the crown of the United Kingdom, is manifestly an occasion demanding such congratulations as must arise from sentiments of loyalty to the monarchical constitution and of respect for the reigning family. His Royal Highness, it is understood, has preferred to have it treated simply as a private and domestic affair, entertaining a party of his personal friends, and not inviting any formal addresses from the representatives of municipal corporations or other public bodies. Nevertheless, it may be permitted to journalists, taking note of this period in the life of so important a contemporary personage, to express their continued good wishes for his health and happiness, and to indulge in a few retrospective observations on his past career.

Born on Nov. 9, 1841, second of the offspring of Queen Victoria by her marriage with the late Prince Consort, Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, inherited the greatest blessing of humanity, that of having good parents and wise guardians of his childhood and youth. His instruction at home was, no doubt, wider in range of studies than that of ordinary English boys, including an acquaintance with several European languages and with modern history, needful to qualify him for the duties of a prince. He was further educated at Christ Church, Oxford, and at Trinity College, Cambridge; was enrolled a law student of the Middle Temple and held a commission in the army.

His earliest appearance in a leading part on any public occasion was in 1858 or 1859, we think at the laying of the foundation stone of the Lambeth School of Art at Vauxhall; but after the lamented death of his father, in December, 1861, the Prince of Wales naturally became the most eminent and desirable performer of all ceremonies in which beneficent or useful undertakings were to be recognized by royal approval. This work has occupied a very large share of his time during thirty years; and we can all testify that it has been discharged with such frank good will, cordiality, and unaffected graciousness, with such patient attention, diligence, and punctuality, as to deserve the gratitude of large numbers of her Majesty's subjects in almost every part of the kingdom. No prince of any country in any age has ever personally exerted himself more constantly and faithfully, in rendering services of this kind to the community, than the Prince of Wales. The multiplicity and variety of his engagements, on behalf of local and special objects of utility, would make a surprising list, and they must have involved a sacrifice of ease and leisure, and endurance of self-imposed restraint, a submission to tedious repetitions of similar acts and scenes, and to continual requests and importunities, which few men of high rank would like to undergo.

The marriage of his Royal Highness to Princess Alexandra of Denmark, on March 10, 1863, was one of the happiest events within the memory of this generation. It tended visibly, of course, to raise and confirm his position as leader of English society, and as the active dispenser of that encouragement which royalty can bestow on commendable public objects. Charity, education, science, art, music, industry, agriculture, and local improvements are in no small measure advanced by this patronage. The Prince of Wales may not be so learned in some of these matters as his accomplished father, but he has taken as much trouble to assist the endless labors of the immediate agents, in doing which he has shown good judgment and discretion, and a considerable degree of business talent--notably, in the British preparations for the Paris Exhibition of 1867, the Indian and Colonial Exhibition of 1886 in London, and the organization of the Imperial Institute. The last-named institution and the Royal College of Music will be permanent memorials of the directing energy of the Prince of Wales.

These are but a few examples or slight indications of the work he has actually done for us all. It is unnecessary to mention the incidental salutary influences of his visits to Canada and to India, which have left an abiding favorable impression of English royalty in those provinces of the empire. Nor can it be requisite to observe the manner in which the prince's country estate and mansion at Sandringham, with his care of agricultural improvement, of stock breeding, studs, and other rural concerns, has set an example to landowners, the value of which is already felt. We refrain upon this occasion from speaking of the Princess of Wales, or of the sons and daughters, whose lives, we trust, will be always good and happy. It is on the personal merits and services of the head of their illustrious house, with reference only to public interests, that we have thought it needful to dwell, in view of the fiftieth birthday of his Royal Highness; and very heartily to wish him, in homely English phrase, "Many happy returns of the day!"--_Illustrated London News._

* * * * *

DEVELOPMENT WITH SUCRATE OF LIME.

I have experimented with carbonate of lithia as an accelerator, and I have obtained with it rather favorable results. However, in opposition to Mr. Wickers, I have always found that carbonate of lithia, used even in larger doses than those recommended by this author, was not sufficiently active, and that development had to be too much prolonged in order to obtain prints of good intensity. I have also observed that the prints developed by this process were as often fogged as when I made use of carbonate of potash. The oxides of alkaline metals or their alkaline salts are not the only accelerators susceptible of being used in pyro development. Two oxides of the earthy alkaline metals, lime and hydrate of barytes, may also be used as accelerators. I will not insist upon the second, which, although giving some results, should be rejected from photographic practice on account of its caustic properties, and of its too great affinity for the carbonic acids in the air, which prevents the keeping of its solutions. This objection does not obtain for the first, provided, however, that ordinary lime water is not used, but a solution of succharate or sucrate of lime. In my experiments I have made use of the following solutions:

_Solution A._

Pyrogallic acid. 10 grms. Sulphite of soda. 20 " Citric acid. 2 " Water. 120 "

_Solution B._ Water. 1000 " Sugar. sufficient quantity to triturate.

To which add a sufficient quantity of pure lime to saturate the sugar solution.

In this manner we get a highly concentrated liquid, very alkaline, and which keeps for a considerable time. To develop, I mix:

Water. 80 cubic cent. Solution A. 2 " "

I throw this over the plate, and allow it to remain for a few moments, agitating, then I add to this bath gradually and according to the results obtained, from one to two cubic centimeters of the solution B. These solutions should be made with a great deal of care and prudence, as the sucrate of lime is an accelerator of very great energy. Moreover, according as the plate has been more or less exposed, we may add to the developing bath a few drops of a solution of citric acid, or of a solution of an alkaline bromide. We obtain in this way very soft prints, sometimes too soft, which, however, are not more free from fogging than plates developed with hydrochinon (new bath), or pyro having for accelerators ammonia, potash, soda, carbonate of potash, of soda, or of lithia. I do not give this process with sucrate of lime as perfect, but I give it as perfectable and susceptible of application. If I have undertaken to write these few lines it is because it has never been brought to my knowledge that up to the present time the oxides and the alkaline salts of the earthy alkaline metals have been studied from a photographic point of view.--_Leon Degoix in Photo. Gazette._

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DUCK HUNTING IN SCOTLAND.

The wild duck is a shy bird, apt to spread his wings and change his quarters when a noble sportsman is seen approaching his habitation with a fowling piece. You have heard of the ass who put on a lion's skin, and wandered out into the wilderness and brayed. I have elaborated a device of equal ingenuity and more convincing realism. It is my habit during the duck-shooting season to put on the skin of a Blondin donkey and so roam among the sedges bordering on the lakes where wild ducks most do congregate. I have cut a hole in the face to see through, and other holes in the legs to put my hands through.--_London Graphic_

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A PLEA FOR THE COMMON TELESCOPE.[1]

By G.E. LUMSDEN.

[Footnote 1: Paper read before the Astronomical and Physical
Society of Toronto, Canada, April 18, 1891.]

These are the palmiest days in the eventful history of physical and observational astronomy. Along the whole line of professional and amateur observation substantial progress is being made, but in certain new directions, and in some old ones, too, the advance is very rapid. As never before, public interest is alive to the attractions and value of the work of astronomers. The science itself now appeals to a constituency of students and readers daily increasing in numbers and importance. Evidence of this gratifying fact is easily obtained. There is at the libraries an ever-growing demand for standard astronomical works, some of them by no means intended to be of a purely popular character. Some of the most influential and conservative magazines on both sides of the Atlantic now find it to be in their interest to devote pages of space to the careful discussion of new theories, or to the results of the latest work of professional observers. Even the daily press in some cities has caught the infection, if infection it may be called. There are in New York, Philadelphia, St. Louis, and other centers of population on this continent leading newspapers which, every week or so, publish columns of original matter contributed by writers evidently able to place before their readers in an attractive form articles dealing accurately, and yet in a popular vein, with the many-sided subject of astronomy. In scientific matters generally, there is abroad in this and other countries a spirit of inquiry, never more apparent than at the present time.

Readers and thinkers may, no doubt, be numbered by thousands. So far, however, as astronomy is concerned, the majority of readers and thinkers is composed of non-observers, most of whom believe they must be content with studying the theoretical side of the subject only. They labor under the false impression that unless they have telescopes of large aperture and other costly apparatus, the pleasures attaching to practical work are denied them. The great observatories, to which every intelligent eye is directed, are, in a measure, though innocently enough, responsible for this. Anticipation is ever on tiptoe. People are naturally awaiting the latest news from the giant refracting and reflecting telescopes of the day. Under these circumstances, it may be that the services rendered, and capable of being rendered, to science by smaller apertures may be overlooked, and, therefore, I ask to be permitted to put in a modest plea for the common telescope. What little I shall have to say will be addressed to you more for the purpose of arousing interest in the subject than for communicating to you any information of a novel or special character.

When making use of the term "common telescope," I would like to be understood as referring to good refractors with object glasses not exceeding three or three and one-half inches in diameter. In some works on the subject telescopes as large as five inches or even five and one-half inches are included in the description "common," but instruments of such apertures are not so frequently met with in this country as to justify the classing of them with smaller ones, and, perhaps, for my purpose, it is well that such is the fact, for the expense connected with the purchase of first rate telescopes increases very rapidly in proportion to the size of the object glass, and soon becomes a serious matter. Should ever the larger apertures become numerous on this continent, let us hope it shall be found to have been as one of the results of societies like this, striving to make more popular the study of astronomy.

It is not by any means proposed to inflict upon you a history of the telescope, but your indulgence is asked for a few moments while reference is made to one or two matters connected with its invention, or, rather, its accidental discovery and subsequent improvement.

The opening years of the seventeenth century found the world without a telescope, or, at least, such an instrument as was adapted for astronomical work. It is true that long years before, Arabian and some other eastern astronomers, for the purpose, possibly, of enabling them to concentrate their gaze upon celestial objects and follow their motions, had been accustomed to use a kind of tube consisting of a long cylinder without glasses of any kind and open at both ends. For magnifying purposes, this tube was of no value. Still, it must have been of some kind of service, or else the first telescopes, as constructed by the spectacle makers, who had stumbled upon the principle involved, were exceedingly sorry affairs, for, soon after their introduction, the illustrious Kepler, in his work on "Optics," recommended the employment of plain apertures, without lenses, because they were superior to the telescope on account of their freedom from refraction.

But as soon as the principle by which distant objects could, apparently, be brought nearer the eye became known and its value recognized by philosophers, telescopes ceased to be regarded as toys, and underwent material improvements in the hands of such men as Galilei, and, later, even of Kepler himself, Cassini, Huyghens, and others. Galilei's first telescope magnified but three times, and his best not much above thirty times. If I comprehend aright what has been written upon the subject, I am justified in saying that this little instrument in my hand, with an aperture of one inch and one-quarter, and a focus, with an astronomical eye-piece, of about ten inches, is a better magnifier than was Galilei's best. With it I can see the moons of Jupiter, some spots on the sun, the phases of Venus, the composition, in some places, of the Milky Way, the seas, the valleys, the mountains, and, when in bold relief upon the terminator, even some of the craters and cones of the moon. Indeed, I am of opinion I can see even more than he could, for I can readily make out a considerable portion of the Great Nebula in Orion, some double stars, and enough of the Saturnian system to discern the disk of the planet and see that there is something attached to its sides.

For nearly one hundred and fifty years all refracting telescopes labored under one serious difficulty. The images formed by them were more or less confused by rainbow tints, due to the bending, or refracting, by the object glass of the rays of light. To overcome this obstacle to clear vision, and also to secure magnification, the focal lengths of the instruments were greatly extended. Telescopes 38, 50, 78, 130, 160, 210, 400, and even 600 feet long were constructed. I can, however, find nothing on record indicating that the object glasses of these enormously attenuated instruments ever exceeded in diameter two and one-half inches. Yet, with unwieldy and ungainly telescopes, nearly always defining badly, wonders were accomplished by the painstaking and indomitable observers of the time.

In 1658, Huyghens, using a telescope twenty-three feet long and two and one-third inches in diameter, with a power of 100, solved the mystery of Saturn's rings, which had resisted all of Galilei's efforts as well as his own with a shorter instrument, though he had discovered Titan, Saturn's largest moon, and fixed correctly its period of revolution at sixteen days. Fifteen years later, Ball, with a telescope thirty-eight feet long, discovered the principal division in the rings. Ten years still later, Cassini, with an instrument twenty feet long and an object glass two and one-half inches in diameter, rediscovered the division, which was named after him, rather than after Ball, who had taken no pains to make widely known his discovery, which, in the meantime, had been forgotten. Though we have no record, there is no doubt that the lamented Horrocks and Crabtree, in England, in 1639, with glasses no better than these, watched with exultant emotions the first transit of Venus ever seen by human eyes.

In 1722, Bradley, with a telescope 2231/4 feet long, succeeded in measuring the diameter of the same planet. Yet Grant assures us that, in spite of all their difficulties, such was the industry of the astronomers that when, at the commencement of this century, it became possible to construct larger refracting telescopes, there was nothing to be discovered that could have been discovered with the means at their disposal. So far as we now know, a good three-inch telescope, nay, a first-rate two inch one, will show far more than our great-grandfathers ever saw, or dreamed of seeing, with their refractors.

Toward the middle of the seventeenth century the reflecting telescope had been so much improved as nearly to crowd out its refracting rival, but, just as its success seemed to be assured, Dollond, working along lines partially followed up by Hall, found a combination of lenses by which the chromatic aberration of the refractor could be very perfectly corrected. While Dollond's invention was of immense value, it remained that flint object glasses larger than two and one-half inches in diameter could not, for some years, be manufactured, but about the opening of the nineteenth century, Guinand, a Swiss, discovered a process of making masses of optical flint glass sufficiently large as to admit of the construction from them of excellent lenses of sizes gradually increasing as time and experimenting went on. The making of three-inch objectives, achromatic and of short focus, wrought a revolution in telescopes and renewed the demand for refractors, though prices, as compared with those of the present day, were very great. But improvement was succeeded by improvement. Larger and still larger objectives were made, yet progress was not so rapid as not to justify Grant, in 1852, in declaring to be a "munificent gift" the presentation, about 1838, to Greenwhich Observatory, of a six and seven-tenths object glass alone, and so it was esteemed by Mr. Airy, the astronomer royal. Improvement is still the order of the day, and, as a result of keen competition, very excellent telescopes of small aperture can be purchased at reasonable prices. Great telescopes are enormously expensive, and will probably be so until they are superseded by some simple invention which shall be as superior to them as they are to the "mighty" instruments which, from time to time, caused such sensations in the days of Galilei, Cassini, Huyghens, Bradley, Dollond, and those who came after them.

But, notable as are the services rendered to science by giant telescopes, it remains that by far the greater bulk of useful work has been done by apertures of less than twelve inches in diameter. Indeed, it may be asserted that most of such work has been done by instruments of six inches or less in size. After referring with some detail to this, Denning tells us that "nearly all the comets, planetoids, double stars, etc., owe their detection to small instruments; that our knowledge of sun spots, lunar and planetary features is also very largely derived from similar sources; that there is no department which is not indebted to the services of small telescopes, and that of some thousands of drawings of celestial objects, made by observers employing instruments from three to seventy-two inches in diameter, a careful inspection shows that the smaller instruments have not been outdone in this interesting field of observation, owing to their excellent defining powers and the facility with which they are used." Aperture for aperture, the record is more glorious for the "common telescope" than for its great rivals. Let us for a moment recall something of what has been done with instruments which may be embraced under the designation "common" as such a statement may serve to remove impressions that small telescopes are but of little use in astronomical work.

In his unrivaled book, Webb declares that his observations were chiefly made with a telescope five and one-half feet long, carrying an object glass of a diameter of three and seven-tenths inches. The instrument was of "fair defining quality," and one has but to read his delightful pages in order to form an idea of the countless pleasures Webb derived from observation with it. Speaking of it, he says that smaller ones will, of course, do less, especially with faint objects, but are often very perfect and distinct, and that even diminutive glasses, if good, will, at least, show something never seen without them. He adds: "I have a little hand telescope twenty-two and one-quarter inches long, when fully drawn out, with a focus of about fourteen inches, and one and one-third inches aperture; this, with an astronomical eye-piece, will show the _existence_ of sun spots, the mountains in the moon, Jupiter's satellites and Saturn's ring." In another place, speaking of the sun, he says that an object glass of only two inches will exhibit a curdled or marbled appearance over the whole solar disk, caused by the intermixture of spaces of different brightness. And I may add here that Dawes recommends a small aperture for sun work, including spectroscopic examinations, he himself, like Mr. Miller, our librarian, preferring to use for that purpose a four inch refractor.

As you know, the North Star is a most beautiful double. Its companion is of the ninth order of magnitude, that is, three magnitudes smaller than the smallest star visible to the naked eye on a dark night. There was a time when Polaris, as a double, was regarded as an excellent test for a good three inch telescope; that is any three inch instrument in which the companion could be seen was pronounced to be first-class. But so persistently have instruments of small aperture been improved that that star is no longer an absolute test for three inch objectives of fine quality, or any first-rate objective exceeding two inches for which Dawes proposed it as a standard of excellence, he having found that if the eye and telescope be good, the companion to Polaris may be seen with such an aperture armed with a power of eighty. As a matter of fact, Dawes, who was, like Burnham, blessed with most acute vision, saw the companion with an instrument no larger than this small one in my hand--one inch and three-tenths. Ward saw it with an inch and one-quarter objective, and Dawson with so small an aperture as one inch. T.T. Smith has seen it with a reflector stopped down to one inch and one-quarter, while in the instrument still known as the "great Dorpat reflector," it has been seen in broad daylight. This historic telescope has, I believe, a twelve inch object glass, but the difficulty of seeing in sunshine so minute a star is such that the fact may fairly be mentioned here.

Another interesting feature is this. Objects once discovered, though thought to be visible in large telescopes only, may often be seen in much smaller ones. The first Herschel said truly that less optical power will show an object than was required for its discovery. The rifts, or canals, in the Great Nebula in Andromeda is a case in point, but two better illustrations may be taken from the planets. Though Saturn was for many years subjected to most careful scrutiny by skilled astronomers using the most powerful telescopes in existence, the crape ring eluded discovery until November, 1850, when it was independently seen by Dawes, in England, and Bond, in the United States. Both were capital observers and employed excellent instruments of large aperture, and it was naturally presumed that only such instruments could show the novel Saturnian feature. Not so. Once brought to the attention of astronomers, Webb saw the new ring with his three and seven-tenths telescope and Ross with an aperture not exceeding three and three-eighths in diameter. Nay, I am permitted to say that a venerable member of this society made drawings of it with a three inch refractor. With a two inch objective, Grover not only saw the crape ring, but Saturn's belts, as well, and the shadow cast by the ball of the planet upon its system of rings. Titan, Saturn's largest moon, is merely a point of light as compared with the planet, as it appears in a telescope, yet it has been seen, so it is said, with a one inch glass. The shadow of this satellite, while crossing the face of Saturn, has been observed by Banks with a two and seven-eighths objective. By hiding the glare of the planet behind an occulting bar, some of Saturn's smallest moons were seen by Kitchener with a two and seven-tenths aperture and by Capron with a two and three-fourths one. Banks saw four of them with a three and seven-eighths telescope, Grover two of them with a three and three-quarter inch, and four inches of aperture will show five of them, so Webb says. Rhea, Dione and Tethys are more minute than Japetus, yet Cassini, with his inferior means, discerned them and traced their periods. Take the instance of Mars next. It was long believed that Mars had no satellites. But in 1877, during one of the highly favorable oppositions of that planet which occur but once in about sixteen years, the able Hall, using the great 26 inch refractor at Washington, discovered two tiny moons which had never been seen before. One of these, called Deimos, is only six miles in diameter, the other, named Phobos, is only seven, and both are exceedingly close to the primary and in rapid revolution. The diameter of these satellites is really less than the distance from High Park, on the west of Toronto, to Woodbine race course, on the east of the city. No wonder these minute objects--seldom, if ever, nearer to us than about forty millions of miles--are difficult to see at all. Newcomb and Holden tell us that they are invisible save at the sixteen year periods referred to, when it happens that the earth and Mars, in their respective orbits, approach each other more nearly than at any other time. But once discovered, the rule held good even in the case of the satellites of Mars. Pratt has seen Deimos, the outermost moon, with an eight and one-seventh inch telescope; Erek has seen it with a seven and one-third inch achromatic; Trouvellot, the innermost one, with a six and three-tenths glass, while Common believes that any one who can make out Enceladus, one of Saturn's smallest moons, can see those of Mars by hiding the planet at or near the elongations, and that even our own moonlight does not prevent the observations being made. It chances for the benefit of observers, in the northern hemisphere especially, that one of the sixteen year periods will culminate in 1893, when Mars will be most advantageously situated for close examination. No doubt every one will avail himself of the opportunity, and may we not reasonably hope that scores of amateur observers throughout the United States and Canada will experience the delight of seeing and studying the tiny moons of our ruddy neighbor?

And so I might proceed until I had wearied you with illustrations showing what can be done with telescopes so small that they may fairly be classed as "common," Webb says that such apertures, with somewhat high powers, will reveal stars down to the eleventh magnitude. The interesting celestial objects more conspicuous than stars of that magnitude are sufficiently numerous to exhaust much more time than any amateur can give to observing. Indeed, the lot of the amateur is a happy one. With a good, though small, telescope, he may have for subjects of investigation the sun with his spots, his faculae, his prominences and spectra; the moon, a most superb object in nearly every optical instrument, with her mountains, valleys, seas, craters, cones, and ever-changing aspects renewed every month, her occupations of stars, her eclipses, and all that; the planets, some with phases, and other with markings, belts, rings, and moons with scores of occupations, eclipses and transits due to their easily observed rotation around their primaries; the nebulae, the double, triple and multiple stars with sometimes beautifully contrasted colors, and a thousand and one other means of amusing and instructing himself. Nature has opened in the heavens as interesting a volume as she has opened on the earth, and with but little trouble any one may learn to read in it.

I trust it has been shown that expensive telescopes are not necessarily required for practical work. My advice to an intending purchaser would be to put into the objective for a refractor, or into the mirror for a reflector, all the money he feels warranted in spending, leaving the mounting to be done in the cheapest possible manner consistent with accuracy of adjustment, because it is in the objective or in the mirror that the _value_ of the telescope alone resides. In the shops may be found many telescopes gorgeous in polished tubes and brass mountings which, for effective work, are absolutely worthless. On this subject, I consulted the most eminent of all discoverers of double stars, an observer who, even as an amateur, made a glorious reputation by the work done with a six inch telescope. I refer to Mr. S.W. Burnham, of the Lick Observatory, who, in reply, kindly wrote: "You will certainly have no difficulty in making out a strong case in favor of the use of small telescopes in many departments of important astronomical work. Most of the early telescopic work was done with instruments which would now be considered as inferior to modern instruments, in quality as well as in size. You are doubtless familiar with much of the amateur work, in this country and elsewhere, done with comparatively small apertures. _The most important condition is to have the refractor_, whatever its size may be, _of the highest optical perfection_, and then the rest will depend on the zeal and industry of the observer." The italics are mine.

Incidentally, it may be mentioned that much most interesting work may be done even with an opera glass, as a few minutes' systematic observation on any fine night will prove. Newcomb and Holden assure us that "if Hipparchus had had even such an optical instrument, mankind need not have waited two thousand years to know the nature of the Milky Way, nor would it have required a Galilei to discover the phases of Venus or the spots on the sun." To amplify the thought, if that mighty geometer and observer and some of his contemporaries had possessed but the "common telescope," is it not probable that in the science of astronomy the world would have been to-day two thousand years in advance of its present position?

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ARCHAEOLOGICAL DISCOVERIES AT CADIZ.

Those who have had the good fortune to visit Andalusia, that privileged land of the sun, of light, songs, dances, beautiful girls, and bull fighters, preserve, among many other poetical and pleasing recollections, that of election to antique and smiling Cadiz--the "pearl of the ocean and the silver cup," as the Andalusians say in their harmonious and imaginative language. There is, in fact, nothing exaggerated in these epithets, for they translate a true impression. Especially if we arrive by sea, there is nothing so thrilling as the dazzling silhouette which, from afar, is reflected all white from the mirror of a gulf almost always blue.