THE MICROSCOPE.
At any time of the year or hour of the day there are few pursuits more interesting, and at the same time instructive, than the study of Nature by means of the microscope.
All of us must admire the more than awful grandeur of that universe whereof we form so infinitesimal a part, wherein the stars are scattered as the sand on the sea-shore, and every star a sun, the center of a system of orbs too distant for the eye of man to perceive. Looking at our nearest planet, and observing on her face vast mountain-chains, ravines into which the light of the sun can never penetrate, and volcanoes whose craters are so wide that they would take in the whole of New York, the whole of Philadelphia, and all the country between them, we can judge by analogy of the unseen wonders which must exist in the world beyond our ken.
But to him who can read Nature rightly, the microscope is a teacher as grand as its sister instrument, and the awful magnificence of Nature is as evident in a midge’s wing as in the more patent glories of the sun, moon, and stars. In the following pages we hope to put the readers of this book in the way to read their microscope rightly—possibly to make it—and to show that much can be done with small means when “there’s a will,” and to indicate to them that objects of no small interest can be found without stirring from the room in which we sit, or even from the table on which our microscope is placed.
Some of our readers may say, when they read the heading of this paper, that they should like a microscope very much, but that they have no money to buy it, and that their parents cannot afford one.
This is just the feeling which we used to have when a boy, for in those day microscopes were microscopes indeed, and you had your choice between a little instrument, with a series of brass cups, having glasses in them, which magnified slightly but defined clearly, or a great composition of brass and iron, looking like a rocket-tube, with an eye-piece at one end and a glass shot at the other. It was very costly, very imposing, and magnified very highly; but it strained the eyes painfully, had no defining capacities, and made all the objects look as if they were seen through a thick fog. Practically, therefore, the former was the only instrument that was available.
A still more useful instrument, however, was that which can always be obtained for a dollar or so, and which is now made wonderfully cheap and wonderfully good; we mean the double or treble pocket-lens. So we say, if you cannot afford a really good microscope, do not waste your money upon inferior and pretentious instruments, but get a sound pocket-lens.
It has a thousand advantages. It is portable, and is even more useful in the fields than in the house. It defines very clearly, and needs little trouble in manipulation. We need not say how difficult is the task of getting a complicated instrument to define properly, how impossible with a bad one. The object and the glass can be held in any light,—a matter of no small consideration when examining anything new, and trying to make out its structure. It is not easily put out of order, and if treated with the most ordinary care, will last for a lifetime.
You can push it under water, and it will magnify as well as in the air; and if you are wandering on the river-side, you can lie down on the bank, dip the upper part of your head in water, together with the glass, and watch carefully the sub-aquatic objects without removing them. The water will not hurt the eye in the least, though a non-swimmer may perhaps find a little difficulty in his first attempt. It makes a good burning-glass, should fire be needed, and no other means of procuring a spark be at hand. It can be used so as to show the principle of a camera obscura, and to illustrate the manner in which photographic portraits are taken. It can be made into an admirable dissecting microscope, and needs scarcely any practice in the manipulation. These are some of its advantages, and there are many others which need not be mentioned.
Even if you should be able to procure a good microscope, get a pocket-lens as well, for you will want them both, and we may say that the most practiced microscopists, and those who are possessors of the most elaborate instruments, are the very men who are the most certain to have a pocket-lens about them, and to use it most frequently. Practice well with the pocket-lens before you meddle with the compound microscope. You will waste no time, but will rapidly gain by it; for you will be learning the rudiments of a new science, and laying a solid foundation on which to build.
One or two practical remarks on the proper handling of the pocket-lens may be of use. Do not always employ the same eye in looking through the lens, but use the eyes alternately. There is always a temptation to employ the same eye, which receives a kind of training in vision; but it is a temptation always to be resisted. With some persons the right eye is most in favor, and with others the left; and when the favorite eye gets all the work, it too frequently suffers. Whether you look with the right or the left eye, keep both eyes open.
At first the beginner will find a little difficulty in restricting his vision to one eye while the other remains open, just as a beginner on the piano-forte feels himself puzzled when he tries to make his right hand go one way and his left hand another; but in either case a little practice and plenty of perseverance are sure to overcome all obstacles, and in a wonderfully short time the difficulty will not only be overcome, but forgotten.
We speak here with some feeling, because, while engaged on a work on the microscope, we were necessarily obliged to work much at night, and inadvertently employed the left eye more than the right; the consequence of which imprudence was that we have been obliged ever since that time to give the left eye perfect rest, as far as artificial vision goes, and, except when looking through a binocular instrument, we have not ventured to use it either to a microscope or a telescope. The vision accommodates itself to circumstances with wonderful ease, and the observer learns the curious art of cutting off all communication between the unused eye and the brain; so that, although the objects around may imprint themselves upon the retina, the mind is as totally unconscious of them as if they had no existence.
If possible, always examine an object without removing it, as thereby you see it as it is, without altering any of the conditions with which it is surrounded. Should this not be practicable, take the object to be viewed in the left hand and the lens in the right. Place the wrists of the two hands together, and then you will find that one supports the other, and that the lens can be held in the proper focus without the least difficulty. After you have used the lens for some little time, you will learn to hit upon the right focus almost to a hair’s breadth,—so as to lose no time, a matter of some importance when a living creature is to be examined, especially if it be in motion.
We are now about to suggest a very simple piece of mechanism, by which the pocket-lens can be converted into a microscope that will serve for dissection and many other purposes.
Melt three or four pounds of lead in an iron ladle, and make a mold, consisting of a hollow hemisphere of paper or cardboard, through the center of which an iron rod has been passed. The hollow of the paper should resemble an ordinary saucer. Pour the lead into the saucer, and let it cool. The paper mold will be scorched by the heat and rendered useless, but an outer coating of lead will be cool and hard before the paper is quite destroyed. Next take a piece of stout brass wire and a wine-cork; twist the wire round the cork several times; cut off one end close to the cork; sharpen the other, and turn it up.
Bore a hole through the cork, just large enough to allow the upright rod to slip through it, and there is the “stand” of your microscope. Now take your pocket-lens, and get an optician to bore a hole through one end of it, just large enough to receive the upturned end of the wire; slip the lens on the wire, and the microscope is complete.
The cork, though grasping the upright stem with tolerable firmness, can be slid up and down so as to insure the correct focus, and can be pushed aside whenever the object has to be viewed with the naked eye, and must not be removed from its place. This instrument is a capital one for dissecting purposes, and will answer quite as well as those expensive affairs that are to be purchased in the shops.
If the object be transparent, and requires to be seen by transmitted light, the following plan will answer:—Take a thin piece of wood, cut or punch a round hole out of the middle, and support it on four legs. Wires or wooden pegs fixed in corks will answer the purpose well, and if the corks be glued to the corners of the board, the legs can be inserted or removed at pleasure. The wood of which cigar-boxes are made will answer the purpose very well. Its dimensions should be about three inches in length by two in width. Now buy one of the doll’s looking-glasses that are sold for a penny, and put it under the stand. Lay a flat piece of glass over the hole, place the object upon it, and direct the light through it by means of the mirror below. If such a mirror cannot be obtained, it is easy enough to make one, by mounting a piece of looking-glass in a cork frame, and making it swing on pivots, like the glasses of our dressing-rooms.
The young microscopist must remember that when he is examining any object by transmitted light, he must arrange it as flatly as possible on the glass. In many cases, a still neater manipulation is required—as, for example, when the petals of flowers are under examination. Thin glass is to be purchased at any optician’s, and if cut in squares, instead of circles, is very much cheaper, and quite as useful for all practical purposes. Lay the petal on the glass plate, place a piece of the thin glass upon it, and press it gently while examining it. If it still remains thick and dull, put a drop of pure water on the petal, and replace the thin glass, when the structure will almost invariably be detected.
Everything depends on the proper management of the object and the arrangement of the light. Some opaque objects can be seen best by direct light, and others by transmitted light. If a leaf be examined, particularly if it be a thick and heavy one, like that of the ivy, the upper and lower membranes must be stripped apart—a task which is easily performed by tearing a small slit, and then ripping it smartly across. A pair of forceps will be required for this and other delicate work, and may be obtained at a cheap rate. Care must be taken to keep the points exactly even, and if at any time one of them appears to be shorter than the other, they should be rubbed on a hone until they are brought perfectly level.
These should be made of steel; but the young microscopist will find that a second pair, made of brass, and much rougher in finish, are invaluable aids as he takes his walks into the country. By their aid he can pick up minute objects, draw insects out of crevices without damaging them, and pluck the tiniest flowers without harming their petals. They can be carried in the waistcoat pocket, and the cost is sixpence. Any lad who knows how to handle solder can make a pair for himself in a few minutes.
A penknife with one blade kept scrupulously sharp is essential, and we have found an old lancet of the greatest service. Lancets have gone so much out of fashion, that the second-hand instrument shops abound with them. We did not allow our own lancet to be shut up, but removed the blade from the tortoise-shell handle, and fixed it upon a wooden handle, about four inches in length, so that it looked very clumsy, but was extremely useful.
Two pairs of scissors are needful,—one very fine and the other moderately strong. Both pairs, however, must have very short blades and very long handles, and the scissors such as ladies use are of very little use, the short handles causing the fingers of the right hand to shade the object. As to the fine pair, it is hardly possible to have the handles too long or the blades too short; for if the points can be separated a quarter of an inch, nothing more is needed. If a pair of bent scissors can also be obtained, they are extremely pleasant to work with, and save much trouble.
Pill-boxes of various sizes are of very great service to the microscopist. We always have them arranged in “nests,” i. e., six or seven inside each other, so that space is greatly economized, as long as they are not in absolute use. All delicate objects should be placed in separate boxes, and the predaceous insects must be treated in the same manner, or they will certainly destroy one another, or, at all events, inflict such injuries as will make them useless for microscopic purposes.
When the insects are to be killed on the spot, we employ another and a very simple plan.
We take one of the old-fashioned wooden lucifer-match boxes, bore a hole in the lid, and push through the hole a swan-quill, or the barrel of one of the swan-quill steel pens. A glass tube is still better, but is too fragile. Beeswax is tightly worked into the junction of the tube with the wood, so as to make it as nearly air-tight as possible. A cork stopper is then cut to fit the tube. When this is finished, we take the smallest-sized pill-box, bore a number of holes in it with a red-hot needle, place a little piece of solid ammonia within it, and inclose it in the lucifer-box. Its effects are almost instantaneous; for scarcely has the insect touched the bottom of the box before it is helpless, and in a very few moments it is quite dead, so powerful is ammonia towards insects. The reader will of course understand that the pill-boxes must never have been used for pills, and that the match-box must be carefully cleaned before employing it in the microscopic service. Moreover, any boxes that have been used for insects become useless, inasmuch as the scales always fall from the wings, and cling to the sides of the box, so as to mix with succeeding objects, and very much puzzle the observer.
Aquatic and marine objects require bottles, and, as a general rule, these bottles ought always to have wide mouths. Indeed, if there be no shoulder at all, their purpose will be better served, as a small object is very apt to be caught under the shoulder, and to give much trouble before it can be removed without injury. Wide and short test-tubes answer admirably for collecting; and it will always be advisable to have a few small test-tubes ready fitted with corks, for the purpose of isolating those specimens which might receive or cause injury by being mixed with others.
To remove minute objects from one vessel into another is a very easy process. Take a glass tube, mark off a portion about eight inches in length, cut a little notch with a file, and bend it smartly, when it will break neatly across, without leaving points or having the regularity of its ends injured by gaps. Turn each end round and round in the flame of the spirit-lamp, and you have an ordinary “pipette.” The object of placing the ends of the tube in the flame is to render the edges quite smooth and rounded.
Now mark off the same length of tube, and place the marked portion in the flame, taking care to warm it well first, lest the sudden heat should crack the glass. Keep it continually turning between the fingers, and when it is quite soft, and of a fine red heat, draw the hands smartly apart, and you will produce a couple of tubes tapering to very fine points. Break off the tapering portions at any convenient point, round the edges as before, and you will then have pipettes suitable for small objects. As there are many specimens, especially the smaller animalculæ, which have a habit of retiring into the remotest corner, it is necessary to bend another pipette, so as to follow them. For our own part, we prefer the pipette to be bent nearly to a right angle.
The mode of using these simple instruments is as follows:—Place the forefinger or thumb firmly on the large end, and push the point under water. When the opening is close to the sought-for object, lift the finger suddenly, and admit the air into the tube. The water will immediately rush in at the lower end, and if the orifice has been properly directed, will carry the object into the tube. The finger is again applied to the mouth of the tube, and the object can be then carried off.
As with the pocket-lens almost every object is to be viewed by means of direct light, the young observer will find himself much aided by a suitable background. Any small object, such as a minute insect, a seed, or a hair, becomes very indistinct if held up against the light, or even when viewed against a broken background of trees, houses, or herbage. The simplest plan of securing a proper background is to take a disc of ivory or even of white cardboard, and to blacken one side of it. The black paint which is used for this purpose must be without gloss, and have what is called a “dead” surface. Ink answers very well for the purpose, and so does ivory-black; but Indian ink is too glossy to be serviceable.
To procure specimens from the water is a matter of some difficulty if managed badly, but easy enough when the collector knows his business. It is of course needful to attach the collecting vessel to the end of a rod, and to plunge it into the spots which look most favorable. Now even so simple a matter as this requires some little care, if the young microscopist really wishes to obtain the best specimens. A common walking-stick will answer most purposes; but the most efficient rod for the purpose is one of the common walking-stick fishing-rods without the top joint, as it can be carried without attracting attention, and can be lengthened at will by adding the different joints.
Many methods have been proposed by which the vessel is to be attached to the rod; but that which I am about to describe is certainly the simplest and most effective that I have tried. Get a piece of gutta-percha tubing, just large enough to be slipped on the end of the rod or stick; mark off an inch or so, and cut the tube nearly through, then cut it away longitudinally, so that a long tongue of gutta-percha is left, and the instrument is completed.
Its application is as simple as its structure. Bend the tongue over, so as to form a loop, and push the end through the short tube. Slip the neck of the bottle into the loop, and draw the tongue until it is tolerably tight. Push the end of the stick into the tube, taking care to hold the tongue firmly in its place, and the vessel will then be fastened at right angles to the stick.
The method of collecting by means of this instrument is as follows: Immerse the vessel in the water, with the mouth downwards, so that no water may enter. Push it gently towards the spot which is to be investigated, move it about a little, so as to cause a disturbance, and then turn the vessel with its mouth upwards. Water will instantly rush in, carrying with it the objects which are to be examined. The contents of the vessel may then be transferred to the large bottle, and another dip made. Confervoid growths, especially those which accumulate in a kind of scum on the surface, should be obtained very quietly, without previous disturbance of the water.
After the pond, or stream, or ditch has been well searched, the bottle should be roughly examined, by means of a pocket-lens, and the contents sorted into the smaller tubes, as has already been mentioned. This precaution is especially needful when any of the minute crustacea called Entomostraca are captured, as they are most voracious beings, and will make sad havoc among other specimens, unless they are placed in separate bottles. They are mostly large enough to be detected with the naked eye, and look something like little fleas as they move along.
As the Entomostraca cast their shells repeatedly during their lives, some species performing this operation every two days, a beautiful series of objects can be obtained by gathering the cast shells and preparing them for the microscope, according to the directions that will be found in the following pages. These shells are peculiarly valuable, as they retain the chief external characteristics of the creature to which they belonged, the limbs, plumes, and even the delicate bristles being preserved entire. It is in the power of the microscopist to retard or hasten the change of shell, heat and light aiding development, and cold and darkness retarding it. The remarkable “ephippium,” or saddle, which is found on the backs of the Daphnia, the Moina, and other Entomostraca, and which is used as a receptacle for eggs, should be searched for and preserved.
A very thin and a very flat bottle is a most useful assistance in detecting the character of any unknown object, especially if it be living. Such a bottle may easily be made by heating one of the small test tubes in the spirit lamp until it is of a glowing red heat, and then pressing the sides together. Some little neatness is required in this process, as an unskillful operator is apt to press the sides unequally, and to leave a bulging projection at the end.
THE COMPOUND MICROSCOPE.
We have already described the simpler forms of magnifying instruments, together with the best method of using them. We now purpose to describe the more complicated instrument called the compound microscope, and hints will be given as to the best method of making preparations for it.
The great distinction between the simple and compound microscope is, that whereas the former instrument magnifies the object, the latter magnifies the magnified image of the object. In the least elaborate form of this instrument there are two glasses, one at each end of a tube, the small glass magnifying the object, and being therefore called the “object-glass,” while the other, which magnifies the image of the object, is placed next to the eye, and is therefore termed the “eye-glass.” In practice, however, this arrangement is found to be so extremely defective, that the instrument was quite useless except as an experimental toy; for the two enemies of the optician, chromatic and spherical aberration, prevailed so exceedingly, that every object appeared as if surrounded with prismatic colors, and every line was blurred and indistinct.
In this uncertain state the compound microscope remained for many years, its superb capabilities being scarcely recognized. The chief fault was thought to be in the material of which the object-glass was made, and for a long series of years all experiments were conducted with a view to an improvement in this respect. When, however, the diamond had been employed as an object-glass, and had failed equally with those of less costly material, attention was directed to the right point—namely, the arrangement of the different glasses,—and at length opticians succeeded in obtaining a pitch of excellence which can be almost termed perfection. It would be impossible to describe the method which is employed for this purpose, and it must suffice to say that the principle is that of playing off one defect against another, and so making them mutually correct their errors.
The magnifying powers of the compound microscope can be very great, and it is therefore necessary that extreme care should be taken in its manipulation. It will be possible for a clumsy person to do more damage to a good instrument in three minutes than can be repaired in as many weeks.
Before proceeding to the management of the microscope and the construction of the “slides,” we will briefly describe one or two chief forms of the compound microscope.
The simplest form of the compound microscope, as at present made, consists of a stand and a sliding tube, in which are set the glasses which magnify the object and its image. At the top is the tube, which is capable of being slid up and down in the shoulder of the stand, so as to obtain the proper focus. Above is seen the eye-glass; and the object-glass is shown at the bottom of the tube. Below the object-glass is the “stage” on which the object to be magnified is laid; and lowest of all is a mirror, which serves to reflect the light upwards through the object, and which can be turned by means of the knobs at the sides. The object-glass is composed of two pieces, which can readily be separated. If both are used, sufficient magnifying power is gained to show the scales on a butterfly’s wing and similar minute objects; while, if one is removed, the object is not magnified to so great an extent, but a larger portion can be seen, and the definition is clearer. The cost of this instrument, together with a few accessories, is about $2.50.
The proper light is our next point, and upon it rests the chief beauty of the effect. The light which will suit one object will not suit another, and even the same object should be examined under every variety of light. Some objects are best shown when the light is thrown upon them from above, and others when it is thrown through them from below. Again, the direction of light is of vast importance; for it will easily be seen that an oblique light will exhibit minute projections by throwing a shadow on one side and brilliancy on the other, while a vertical illumination would fail to show them. On the same principle, one object will be shown better with the light in front, and another when it is on one side.
One of the most effective means of attaining this object is by using the “bull’s-eye condenser,” which is sometimes fixed to the stage, but is usually detached. As the upright stem is telescopic, the glass can be raised to a considerable height, while the joint and sliding-rod permit the lens to be applied at any angle which promises the most brilliant light.
As for the kind of light that is employed, there is nothing which equals that of a white cloud; but such clouds are rare, and are at the best extremely transient, and can only be seen by day, various artificial methods of illumination have been invented. Novices generally think that when the sky is bright and blue they will be very successful in their illumination, and feel grievously disappointed at finding that they obtained much more light from the clouds, whose disappearance they had anxiously been watching. Finding that the blue sky gives scarcely any light at all, they rush to the other extreme, turn the mirror towards the sun, and pour such a blaze of light upon the object, that the eye is blinded by the scintillating refulgence, and the object is often injured because the mirror is capable of reflecting heat as well as light.
In the daytime there is nothing better than the “white-cloud illuminator,” which is made easily enough by means of plaster of Paris. A sheet of thin white paper fastened against a window-pane is also useful; and the simple plan of dabbing the glass with putty will have a beneficial effect in softening the light, when the window has a southern aspect. In default of these conveniences, it will be often sufficient to fix a piece of white letter paper over the mirror, or even to dull its surface with wax. At all events, he who aspires to be a true microscopist must be ready with expedients, and if he finds himself in a difficulty, he must summarily invent a method of obviating it.
At night a lamp is necessary; candles are useless, because they have two faults—they flicker, and they become lower as they burn. The latter defect can be cured by using a candle-lamp, but no arrangement will cure the flame of flickering; it is peculiarly trying to the eyes, and destructive of accurate definition. An ordinary moderator lamp answers pretty well, and a small one is even better for the microscopist than one of large dimensions. The chief drawback to the moderator lamp is that the flame cannot be elevated or lowered, so that the only way to procure a light at a higher elevation is to stand the lamp on a block of wood or a book. Small lamps are, however, made expressly for the microscope, and, if possible, should be procured, and used for no other purpose, and intrusted to no other hands.
If you want a really brilliant, clear, white light, you must trim the lamp yourself. A small piece of pale blue or neutral-tint glass interposed between the lamp and the microscope has a wonderful effect in diminishing the yellow hue which belongs more or less to all artificial lights which are produced by the combustion of oil or fat. We have no doubt but that in a few years we shall be rid of the clumsy and dirty machines that we call lamps, and have substituted for them the pure brilliancy of the electric light.
Whatever lamp you use, a shade is absolutely necessary, in order to defend the eyes. Let me here warn my young readers that they cannot be too careful of their eyes. In the exuberance of youthful strength and health we are too apt to treat our eyes as unceremoniously as our digestion, and in later years we awake to unavailing repentance.
Another point which calls for extreme attention is the perfect cleanliness of the glasses. It is astonishing how a tiny dust-mote, or the least condensation of damp, will diminish the powers of the microscope, and how often the instrument is blamed for indistinctness when the real fault lies in the carelessness of the operator. Even when the greatest care is taken, dust is sure to settle on the glasses, especially on the eye-piece, and before using the microscope the glasses ought to be carefully examined. Never wipe them with an ordinary handkerchief, but get a piece of new wash-leather; beat it well until no dust issues from it, and then put it into a box with a tightly-fitting cover. Use this, and nothing else, for cleaning the glasses, and you will avoid those horrid scratches with which the eye-glass and object-glass of careless operators are always disfigured.
Moisture is very apt to condense on the glasses and to ruin their clearness. If the microscope be brought from a cold into a warm room, the glasses will be instantly covered with moisture, just as the outside of a tumbler of cold water is always covered with fine dew when brought into a warm room. The microscope should therefore be kept at least an hour in the room wherein it is to be used, so that the instrument and the atmosphere may be of the same temperature. You should make the microscope a trifle warmer than the surrounding atmosphere, and so avoid all danger of condensation. When changing the object glass or eye-piece, always keep the hand as far away from the glass as possible, and manipulate with the tip of the forefinger and thumb. The human skin always gives out so much exhalation, that even when the hand is cold the glasses will be dimmed; and it is a peculiarity of such moisture, that it adheres to the glasses with great pertinacity, and does not evaporate like the dew which is condensed from the atmosphere.
In order to insure perfect success in this important particular, the young microscopist will do well to get the optician from whom he purchased his instrument to explain its construction, and to give him a lesson or two in the art of taking it to pieces and putting it together again; for unless each glass can be separately cleaned, no one can be quite sure that the instrument will perform as it ought to do. The best method of ascertaining whether it is quite clean is to throw the light upwards by means of the mirror, and then to turn the eye-piece slowly round. If any dust or moisture has collected either upon the eye-glass or the “field-glass,” which forms the second lens of the eye-piece, it will be immediately detected. Turning the object-glass will in a similar manner detect impurities upon its surface.
THE END.