I well remember the visit I received from my dear friend Warren de la Rue in the year 1840. I was executing some work for him with respect to a new process which he had contrived for the production of white lead. I was then busy with the casting of my thirteen-inch speculum. He watched my proceedings with earnest interest and most careful attention. He told me many years after, that it was the sight of my special process of casting a sound speculum that in a manner caused him to turn his thoughts to practical astronomy, a subject in which he has exhibited such noble devotion as well as masterly skill. Soon after his visit I had the honour of casting for him a thirteen-inch speculum, which he afterwards ground and polished by a method of his own. He mounted it in an equatorial instrument of such surpassing excellence as enabled him, aided by his devotion and pure love of the subject, to record a series of observations and results which will hand his name down to posterity as one of the most faithful and patient of astronomical observers.
[Image] Fireside, Patricroft. After a drawing by James Nasmyth
But to return to my own little work at Patricroft. I mounted my ten-inch home-made reflecting telescope, and began my survey of the heavens. Need I say with what exquisite delight the harmony of their splendour filled me. I began as a learner, and my learning grew with experience. There were the prominent stars, the planets, the Milky Way —with thousands of far-off suns—to be seen. My observations were at first merely general; by degrees they became particular. I was not satisfied with enjoying these sights myself; I made my friends and neighbours sharers in my pleasure; and some of them enjoyed the wonders of the heavens as much as I did.
In my early use of the telescope I had fitted the speculum into a light square tube of deal to which the eye-piece was attached, so as to have all the essential parts of the telescope combined together in the most simple and portable form. I had often to remove it from place to place in my small garden at the side of the Bridgewater Canal, in order to get it clear of the trees and branches which intercepted some object in the heavens which I wished to see. How eager and enthusiastic I was in those days! Sometimes I got out of bed in the clear small hours of the morning, and went down to the garden in my night-shirt. I would take the telescope in my arms and plant it in some suitable spot, where I might get a peep at some special planet or star then above the horizon.
It became bruited about that a ghost was seen at Patricroft! A barge was silently gliding along the canal near midnight, when the boatman suddenly saw a figure in white. "It moved among the trees with a coffin in its arms!" The apparition was so sudden and strange that he immediately concluded that it was a ghost. The weird sight was reported at the stations along the canal, and also at Wolverhampton, which was the boatman's headquarters. He told the people at Patricroft on his return journey what he had seen, and great was the excitement produced. The place was haunted: there was no doubt about it! After all, the rumour was founded on fact, for the ghost was merely myself in my night-shirt, and the coffin was my telescope, which I was quietly shifting from one place to another in order to get a clearer sight of the heavens at midnight.
My ambition expanded. I now resolved to construct a reflecting telescope of considerably greater power than that which I possessed. I made one of twenty inches diameter, and mounted it on a very simple plan, thus removing many of the inconveniences and even personal risks that attend the use of such instruments. (For illustration of the plan of mounting a large telescope, see p. 338) It had been necessary to mount steps or ladders to get at the eyepiece, especially when the objects to be observed were at a high elevation above the horizon. I now prepared to do some special work with this instrument. In 1842 I began my systematic researches upon the Moon. I carefully and minutely scrutinised the marvellous details of its surface, a pursuit which I continued for many years, and still continue with ardour until this day. My method was as follows: —
I availed myself of every favourable opportunity for carrying on the investigation. I made careful drawings with black and white chalk on large sheets of grey-tinted paper, of such selected portions of the Moon as embodied the most characteristic and instructive features of her wonderful surface. I was thus enabled to graphically represent the details with due fidelity as to form, as well as with regard to the striking effect of the original in its masses of light and shade. I thus educated my eye for the special object by systematic and careful observation, and at the same time practised my hand in no less careful delineation of all that was so distinctly presented to me by the telescope—at the side of which my sheet of paper was handily fixed. I became in a manner familiar with the vast variety of those distinct manifestations of volcanic action, which at some inconceivably remote period had produced these wonderful features and details of the moon's surface. So far as could be observed, there was an entire absence of any agency of change, so that their formation must have remained absolutely intact since the original cosmical heat of the moon had passed rapidly into space. The surface, with all its wondrous details, presents the same aspect as it did probably millions of ages ago.
This consideration vastly enhances the deep interest with which we look upon the moon and its volcanic details. It is totally without an atmosphere, or of a vapour envelope, such as the earth possesses, and which must have contributed to the conservation of the cosmical heat of the latter orb. The moon is of relatively small mass, and is consequently inferior in heat-retaining power. It must thus have parted with its original stock of cosmical heat with such rapidity as to bring about the final termination of those surface changes which give it so peculiar an aspect. In the case of the earth the internal heat still continues in operation, though in a vastly reduced degree of activity. Again in the case of the moon, the total absence of water as well as atmosphere has removed from it all those denudative activities which, in the earth, have acted so powerfully in effecting changes of its surfaces as well as in the distribution of its materials. Hence the appearance of the wonderful details of the moon's surface presents us with objects of inconceivably remote antiquity.
[Image] General structure of Lunar craters.
Another striking characteristic of the moon's surface is the enormous magnitude of its volcanic crater formations. In comparison with these, the greatest on the surface of the earth are reduced to insignificance. Paradoxical as the statement may at first appear, the magnitude of the remains of the primitive volcanic energy in the moon is simply due to the smallness of its mass. Being only about one-eightieth part of the bulk of the earth, the force of gravity on the moon's surface is only about one-sixth. And as eruptive force is quite independent, as a force, of the law of gravitation, and as it acted with its full energy on matter, which in the moon is little heavier than cork, it was dispersed in divergent flight from the vent of the volcanoes, free from any atmospheric resistance, and thus secured an enormously wider dispersion of the ejected scoriae. Hence the building up of those enormous ring-formed craters which are seen in such vast numbers on the moon's surface—some of them being no less than a hundred miles in diameter, with which those of Etna and Vesuvius are the merest molehills in comparison.
I may mention, in passing, that the frequency of a central cone within these ring-shaped lunar craters supplies us with one of the most distinct and unquestionable evidences of the true nature and mode of the formation of volcanoes.
They are the result of the expiring energy of the volcanic discharge, which, when near its termination, not having sufficient energy to eject the matter far from its vent, becomes deposited around it, and thus builds up the central cone as a sort of monument to commemorate its expiring efforts. In this way it recalls the exact features of our own terrestrial craters, though the latter are infinitely smaller in comparison. When we consider how volcanoes are formed— by the ejection and exudation of material from beneath the solid crust— it will be seen how the lunar eminences are formed; that is, by the forcible projection of fluid molten matter through cracks or vents, through which it makes its way to the surface.
[Image] Pico, an isolated Lunar Mountain 8000 feet high.
It was in reference to this very interesting subject that I made a drawing of the great isolated volcanic mountain Pico, about 8000 feet high.* [footnote… this illustration exhibits a class of volcanic formations that may be seen on many portions of the moon's surface. They are what I would term exudative volcanic mountains, the results of a comparatively gentle discharge of volcanic matter, which has resulted in heaped up eminences; a vast group of which were displayed in the illustration, some of them being upwards of 20,000 feet high. …]
It exhibits a very different appearance from that of our mountain ranges, which are for the most part the result of a tangential action. In the case of the earth, the hard stratified crust had to adapt itself to the shrunken diameter of the once much hotter globe. This tangential action is illustrated in our own persons, when age causes the body to shrink in bulk, while the skin, which does not shrink to the same extent, has to accommodate itself to the shrunken interior, and so forms wrinkles—the wrinkles of age. This theory opens up a chapter in geology and physiology well worthy of consideration. It may alike be seen in the structure of the surface of the earth, in an old apple, and in an old hand.* [footnote… The shrunken hand on the other side is that of Mr. Nasmyth, photographed by himself. According to The Psychonomy of the Hand, by R. Beamish, F.R.S., author of The Life of Sir M. I. Brunel, it exhibits a thoroughly mechanical hand, as well as the hand of a delicate manipulator; illustrating that remarkable expression in the Book of Job, that "in the hand of all the sons of men God places marks, that all the sons of men may know their own works."—ED. …]
[Image] Shrunken Apple and Hand.* [footnote… These illustrations serve to illustrate one of the most potent of geological agencies which has given the earth's surface its grandest characteristics. I mean the elevation of mountain ranges through the contraction of the globe as a whole. By the action of gravity the former larger surface crushes down, as it were, the contracting interior; and the superfluous matter, which belonged to a bigger globe, arranges itself by tangential displacement, and accommodates itself to the altered or decreased size of the globe. Hence our mountain ranges, which though apparently enormous when seen near at hand are merely the wrinkles on the face of the earth. …]
While earnestly studying the details of the moon's surface, it was a source of great additional interest to me to endeavour to realise in the mind's eye the possible landscape effect of its marvellous elevations and depressions. Here my artisic faculty came into operation. I endeavoured to illustrate the landscape. scenery of the Moon, in like manner as we illustrate the landscape scenery of the Earth. The telescope revealed to me distinctly the volcanic craters, the cracks, and the ranges of mountains—by means of the light and shade on the moon's surface. One of the most prominent conditions of the awful grandeur of lunar scenery is the brilliant light of the sun, far transcending that which we experience upon the earth—enhanced by the contrast with the jet-black background of the lunar heavens,— the result of the total absence of atmosphere. One portion of the moon, on which the sun is shining, is brilliantly illuminated, while all in shade is dark.
While the disc of the sun appears a vast electric light of overpowering rayless brilliancy, every star and planet in the black vault of the lunar heavens is shining with steady brightness at all times; as, whether the Sun be present or absent during the long fourteen days' length of the lunar day or night, no difference on the absolutely black aspect of the lunar heavens can appear. That aspect must be eternal there. No modification* [footnote… a small degree of illumination is, however, given to some portions of the Moon's surface by the Earth-shine, when the earth is in such a position with regard to the Moon, as to reflect some light on to it, as the Moon does to the earth. …] of the darkness of shadows in the Moon can result from the illuminative effect, as in our case in the earth, from light reflected into shadows by the blue sky of our earthly day The intensity of the contrast between light and shade must thus lend another awful aspect to the scenery of the Moon, while deprived of all those charming effects which artists term "aerial perspective," by which relative distances are rendered cognisable with such tender and exquisite beauty. The absence of atmosphere on the Moon causes the most distant objects to appear as close as the nearest; while the comparatively rapid curvature of the moon, owing to its being a globe only one-fourth the diameter of the earth, must necessarily limit very considerably the range of view.
[Image] Lunar Mountains and Extinct Volcanic Craters
It is the combination of all these circumstances, which we know with absolute certainty must exist in the Moon, that gives to the contemplation of her marvellous surface, as revealed by the aid of powerful telescopes,—one of the grandest and most deeply interesting subjects that can occupy our thoughts; especially when we regard the physical constitution and the peculiar structure of her surface, as that of our nearest planetary neighbour, and also as our serviceable attendant by night.
Then there are the Tides, so useful to man, preserving the sanitary condition of the river mouths and tide-swept shores. We must be grateful for the Moon's existence on that account alone. She is the grand scavenger and practical sanitary commissioner of the earth. Then consider the work she does! She moves hundreds of ships and barges, filled with valuable cargoes, up our tidal rivers, to the commercial cities on their banks. She thus performs a vast amount of daily and nightly mechanical drudgery. She is the most effective of all Tugs; and now that we understand the convertibility and conservation of force, we may be able to use her Tide-producing powers through the agency of electricity for mechanical purposes. It is even possible that the Tides may yet light our streets and houses!* [footnote… It is not quite a century since London was in part supplied with water by the Moon, through employing the tidal action by the waters at Old London Bridge, where the tide mills worked the water-supplying pumps. …]
Is the moon inhabited? It seems to me that the entire absence of atmosphere and water forbids the supposition—at least of any form of life with which we are acquainted. Add to this adverse condition, the fact of the moon's day being equal to fourteen of our days; the sun shining with much more brilliancy of effect in the moon than on the earth, where atmosphere and moisture act as an important agent in modifying its scorching rays; whilst no such agency exists in the moon. The sun shines there without intermission for fourteen days and nights. During that time the heat must accumulate to almost the melting point of lead; while, on the other hand, the absence of the sun for an equal period must be followed by a period of intense cold, such as we have no experience of, even in the Arctic regions. The highest authorities state that the cold during the Moon's long night must reach as low as 250 degrees below the freezing point of water. These considerations, I think, reasonably suggest that the existence of any form of life in the Moon is in the highest degree improbable.
The first occasion on which I exhibited my series of drawings of the Moon, together with a map six feet in diameter of its entire visible surface, was at the meeting of the British Association at Edinburgh in 1850. I always looked forward to these meetings with great pleasure, and attended them with supreme interest. My dear wife always accompanied me. It was our scientific holiday. It was also our holiday of friendship. We met many of our old friends, and made many new friends. Alas, how many of them have departed! Herschel, Faraday, Robinson, Taylor, Phillips, Brewster, Rosse, Fairbairn, Lassell, and a host of minor stars, who, although perhaps wanting in the brightness or magnitude of those I have named, made good amends by the warmth of their cheerful rays. We saw the younger lights emerging above the horizon: the men who still continue to shed their glory over the meetings of the Association.
How delightful was our visit to Edinburgh in 1850. It was "mine own romantic town." I remembered its striking features so well. There was the broad mass of the Old Town, with its endless diversity of light and shade. There was the grand old fortress, with its towers and turrets and black portholes. Towards evening the distant glories of the departing sun threw forward, in dark outline, the wooded hill of Corstorphine. The rock and Castle assumed a new aspect every time I looked at them. The long-drawn gardens filling the valley between the Old Town and the New, and the thickly-wooded scars of the Castle rock, were a charm of landscape and a charm of art. Arthur's Seat, like a lion at rest, seemed perfect witchcraft. And from the streets in the New Town, or from Calton Hill, what singular glances of beauty were observed in the distance—the gleaming waters of the Firth, and the blue shadows among the hills of Fife.
I remembered it all, from the days in which I sat, as a child, beside the lassies watching the "claes" on the Calton Hill and hearing the chimes of St. Giles's tinkling across the Nor' Loch from the Old Town; the walks, when a boy, in the picturesque country round Edinburgh, with my father and his scientific and artistic friends; my days at the High School, and then my evenings at the School of Arts; my castings of brass in my bedroom, and the technical training I enjoyed in the workshop of my old schoolfellow; my roadway locomotive and its success; and finally, the making of my tools and machines intended for Manchester, at the foundry of my dear old friend Douglass. It all came back to me like a dream. And now, after some twenty years, I had returned to Edinburgh on a visit to the British Association. Many things had been changed—many relatives and friends had departed—but still Edinburgh remained to me as fascinating as ever.
The excursions formed our principal source of enjoyment during these scientific gatherings. The season was then at its happiest. Nature was in her most enjoyable condition, and the excursionists were usually in their holiday mood. The meeting of the British Association at Edinburgh was presided over by Sir David Brewster. The geologists visited the remarkable displays of volcanic phenomena with which the neighbourhood of Edinburgh singularly abounds. Indeed, Edinburgh owes much of its picturesque beauty to volcanoes and earthquake upheavings. Our excursions culminated in a visit to the Bass Rock. The excursion had been carefully planned, and was successfully carried out. The day was beautiful, and the party was of the choicest. After reaching the little cove of Canty Bay, overlooked by the gigantic ruins of Tantallon Castle, we were ferried across to the Bass; through a few miles of that capricious sea, the Firth of Forth, near to where it joins the German Ocean. We were piloted by that fine old British tar, Admiral Malcolm, while the commissariat was superintended by General Pasley.
We were safely landed on that magnificent sea-girt volcanic rock— the Bass. After inspecting the ruins of what was once a castellated State prison, where the Covenanters were immured for conscience' sake, we wandered up the hill towards the summit. There we were treated to a short lecture by Professor Owen on the Solan Goose, which was illustrated by the clouds of geese flying over us. They freely exhibited their habits on land as well as in mid-air, and skimmed the dizzy crags with graceful and apparently effortless motions. The vast variety of seafowl screamed their utmost, and gave a wonderfully illustrative chorus to the lecture. It was a most impressive scene. We were high above the deep blue sea of the German Ocean, the waves of which leapt up as if they would sweep us away into the depths below.
Another of our delightful excursions was made under the guidance of my old and dear friend Robert Chambers.* [footnote… I cannot pass over the mention of Robert Chambers's name without adding that I was on terms of the most friendly intimacy with him from a very early period of his life to its termination in 1871. I remember when he made his first venture in business in Leith Walk. By virtue of his industry, ability, and energy, he became a prosperous man. I had the happiness of enjoying his delightful and instructive society on many occasions. We had rare cracks on all subjects, but especially respecting old places and old characters whom we had known at Edinburgh. His natural aptitude to catch up the salient and most humorous points of character, with the quaint manner in which he could describe them, gave a vast charm to his company and conversation. Added to which, the wide range and accuracy of his information, acquired by his own industry and quick-witted penetration, caused the hours spent in his society to remain among the brightest points in my memory. …]
The object of this excursion was to visit the remarkable series of grooved and scratched rocks which had been discovered* [footnote… They had been first seen, some twenty years before, by Sir James Hall, one of the geologic lights of Edinburgh. …] on the western edge of the cliff-like boundary of Corstorphine Hill. The glacial origin of these groovings on the rocks was then occupying the attention of geologists. It was a subject that Robert Chambers had carefully studied, in the Lowlands, in the Highlands, in Rhine-land, in Switzerland, and in Norway. He had also published his Ancient Sea Margins and his Tracings of the North of Europe in illustration of his views. He was now enabled to show us these groovings and scratchings on the rocks near Edinburgh. In order to render the records more accessible, he had the heather and mossy turf carefully removed— especially from some of the most distinct evidences of glacial rock-grooving. Thus no time was lost, and we immediately saw the unquestionable markings. Such visits as these are a thousand times more instructive and interesting than long papers read at scientific meetings. They afford the best opportunity for interchange of ideas, and directly produce an emphatic result; for one cannot cavil about what he has seen with his eyes and felt with his hands.
We returned to the city in time to be present at a most interesting lecture by Hugh Miller on the Boulder Clay. He illustrated it by some scratched boulders which he had collected in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh. He brought the subject before his audience in his own clear and admirable viva voce style. The Duke of Argyll was in the chair, and a very animated discussion took place on this novel and difficult subject. It was humorously brought to a conclusion by the Rev. Dr. Fleming, a shrewd and learned geologist. Like many others, he had encountered great difficulties in arriving at definite conclusions on this mysterious subject. He concluded his remarks upon it by describing the influence it had in preventing his sleeping at night. He was so restless on one occasion that his wife became seriously alarmed. "What's the matter wi' ye, John? are ye ill?" "On no," replied the doctor, "it's only that confounded Bounder Clay!" This domestic anecdote brought down the house, and the meeting terminated in a loud and hearty laugh.
I, too, contributed my little quota of information to the members of the British Association. I had brought with me from Lancashire a considerable number of my large graphic illustrations of the details of the Moon's surface. I gave a viva voce account of my lunar researches at a crowded meeting of the Physical Section A. The novel and interesting subject appeared to give so much satisfaction to the audience that the Council of the Association requested me to repeat the account at one of the special evenings, when the members of all the various sections were generally present. It was quite a new thing for me to appear as a public lecturer; but I consented. The large hall of the Assembly Rooms in George Street was crowded with an attentive audience. The Duke of Argyll was in the chair. It is a difficult thing to give a public lecture especially to a scientific audience. To see a large number of faces turned up, waiting for the words of the lecturer, is a somewhat appalling sight. But the novelty of the subject and the graphic illustrations helped me very much. I was quite full of the Moon. The words came almost unsought; and I believe the lecture went off very well, and terminated with "great applause." And thus the meeting of the British Association at Edinburgh came to an end.
This, however, was not the end of our visit to Scotland. I was strongly urged by the Duke of Argyll to pay him a visit at his castle at Inverary. I had frequently before had the happiness of meeting the Duke and Duchess at the Earl of Ellesmere's mansion at Worsley Hall He had made us promise that if we ever came to Scotland we were not to fail to pay him a visit. It was accordingly arranged at Edinburgh that we should carry out our promise, and spend some days with him at Inverary before our return home. We were most cordially welcomed at the castle, and enjoyed our visit exceedingly. We had the pleasure of seeing the splendid scenery of the Western Highlands the mountains round the head of Loch Fyne, Loch Awe, and the magnificent hoary-headed Ben Cruachan, requiring a base of more than twenty miles to support him,—besides the beautiful and majestic scenery of the neighbourhood.
But my chief interest was in the specimens of high geological interest which the Duke showed me. He had discovered them in the Island of Mull, in a bed of clay shale, under a volcanic basaltic cliff over eighty feet high, facing the Atlantic Ocean. He found in this bed many beautifully perfect impressions of forest tree leaves, chiefly of the plane-tree class. They appeared to have been enveloped in the muddy bottom of a lake, which had been sealed up by the belching forth from the bowels of the earth of molten volcanic basaltic lava, and which indeed formed the chief material of the Island of Mull. This basaltic cliff now fronts the Atlantic, and resists its waves like a rock of iron. To see all the delicate veins and stalklets, and exact forms of what had once been the green fresh foliage of a remotely primeval forest, thus brought to light again, as preserved in their clay envelope, after they had lain for ages and ages under what must have been the molten outburst of some tremendous volcanic discharge, and which now formed the rock-bound coast of Mull, filled one's mind with an idea of the inconceivable length of time that must have passed since the production of these Wonderful geological phenomena.
I felt all the more special interest in these specimens, as I had many years before, on my return visit from Londonderry, availed myself of the nearness of the Giant's Causeway to make a careful examination of the marvellous volcanic columns in that neighbourhood. Having scrambled up to a great height, I found a thick band of hematitic clay underneath the upper bed of basalt, which was about sixty feet thick. In this clay I detected a rich deposit of completely charred branches of what had once been a forest tree. The bed had been burst through by the outburst of molten basalt, and converted the branches into charcoal. I dug out some of the specimens, and afterwards distributed them amongst my geological friends. The Duke was interested by my account, which so clearly confirmed his own discovery. On a subsequent occasion I revisited the Giant's Causeway in company with my dear wife. I again scrambled up to the hematitic bed of clay under the basaltic cliff, and dug out a sufficient quantity of the charred branches, which I sent to the Duke, in confirmation of his theory as to the origin of the leaf-beds at Mull.* [footnote…
I received the following reply from the Duke of Argyll dated "Inverary,
Nov. 19, 1850": —
"MY DEAR SIR—Am I right in concluding, from the description which; you were so kind as to send to me, that the lignite bed, with its superincumbent basalts, lies above those particular columnar basalts which form the far-famed Giant's Causeway? I see from your sketch that basalts of great thickness, and in some views beautifully columnar, do underlie the lignite bed; but I am not quite sure that these columnar basalts are those precisely which are called the Causeway. I had never heard before that the Giant's Causeway rested on chalk, which all the basalts in your sketch do.
[Image] The Astrologers Tower—A Day Dream. By James Nasmyth.
(Facsimile.)
"I have been showing your drawing of 'Udolpho Castle' and 'The Astrologer's Tower' to the Duchess of Sutherland, who is enchanted with the beauty of the architectural details, and wishes she had seen them before Dunrobin was finished; for hints might have been taken from bits of your work. —Very truly yours,
ARGYLL." …]
In the year following the meeting of the British Association at Edinburgh, the great Exhibition of all nations at London took place. The Commissioners appointed for carrying out this noble enterprise had made special visits to Manchester and the surrounding manufacturing districts for the purpose of organising local committees, so that the machinery and productions of each might be adequately represented in the World's Great Industrial Exhibition. The Commissioners were met with enthusiasm; and nearly every manufacturer was found ready to display the results of his industry. The local engineers and tool-makers were put upon their mettle, and each endeavoured to do his best. Like others, our firm contributed specimens of our special machine tools, and a fair average specimen of the steam hammer, with a 30 cwt. hammer-block.
I also sent one of my very simple and compact steam-engines, in the design of which I had embodied the form of my steam hammer—placing the crank where the anvil of the hammer usually stands. The simplicity and grace of this arrangement of the steam-engine were much admired. Its merits were acknowledged in a way most gratifying to me, by its rapid adoption by engineers of every class, especially by marine engineers. It has been adopted for driving the shafts of screw-propelled steamships of the largest kind. The comparatively small space it occupies, its compactness, its get-at-ability of parts, and the action of gravity on the piston, which, working vertically, and having no undue action in causing wearing of the cylinder on one side (which was the case with horizontal engines), has now brought my Steam Hammer Engine into almost universal use* [footnote… Sir John Anderson, in his Report on the machine tools, textile, and other machinery exhibited at Vienna in 1873, makes the following observations: —"Perhaps the finest pair of marine engines yet produced by France, or any other country, were those exhibited by Schneider and Company, the leading firm in France. These engines were not large, but were perfect in many respects; yet comparatively few of those who were struck with admiration seemed to know that the original of this style of construction came from the same mind as the Steam Hammer. Nasmyth's Infant Hercules was the forerunner of all the steam hammer engines that have yet been made from that type, which is now being so extensively employed for working the screw propeller of steam vessels." …]
The Commissioners, acting on the special recommendation of the jury, awarded me a medal for the construction of this form of steam-engine* [footnote… The Council of the Exhibition thus describe the engine in the awards: — "Nasmyth, J., Patricroft, Manchester, a small portable direct-acting steam-engine. The cylinder is fixed, vertical and inverted, the crank being placed beneath it, and the piston working downwards. The sides of the frame which support the cylinder serve as guides, and the bearings of the crank-shaft and fly-wheel are firmly fixed in the bed-plate of the engine. The arrangement is compact and economical, and the workmanship practically good and durable." (See illustration of the design, page 424.) …] as it was merely a judicious arrangement of the parts, and not, in any correct sense of the term, an invention, I took out no patent for it, and left it free to work its own way into general adoption. It has since been used for high as well as low-pressure steam— an arrangement which has come into much favour on account of the great economy of fuel which results from using it.
A Council Medal was also awarded to me for the Steam Hammer. But perhaps what pleased me most was the Prize Medal which I received for my special hobby—the drawings of the Moon's surface. I sent a collection of these, with a map, to the Exhibition. They attracted considerable attention, not only because of their novelty, but because of the accurate and artistic style of their execution. The Jurors, in making the award, gave the following description of them: "Mr. Nasmyth exhibits a well-delineated map of the Moon on a large scale, which is drawn with great accuracy, the irregularities upon the surface being shown with much force and spirit; also separate and enlarged representations of certain portions of the Moon as seen through a powerful telescope: they are all good in detail, and very effective."
My drawings of the Moon attracted the special notice of the Prince Consort. Shortly after the closing of the Exhibition, in October 1851, the Queen and the Prince made a visit to Manchester and Liverpool, during which time they were the guests of the Earl of Ellesmere at Worsley Hall. Finding that I lived near at hand, the Prince expressed his desire to the Earl that I should exhibit to Her Majesty some of my graphic lunar studies.
On receiving a note to that effect from the Countess of Ellesmere, I sent a selection of my drawings to the Hall, and proceeded there in the evening. I had then the honour of showing them to the Queen and the Prince, and explaining them in detail. Her Majesty took a deep interest in the subject, and was most earnest in her inquiries. The Prince Consort' said that the drawings opened up quite a new subject to him, which he had not before had the opportunity of considering. It was as much as I could do to answer the numerous keen and incisive questions which he put to me. They were all so distinct and cogent. Their object was, of course, to draw from me the necessary explanations on this rather recondite subject. I believe, however, that notwithstanding the presence of Royalty, I was enabled to place all the most striking and important features of the Moon's surface in a clear and satisfactory manner before Her Majesty and the Prince,
I find that the Queen in her Diary alludes in the most gratifying manner to the evening's interview. In the Life of the Prince Consort (vol. ii. p. 398), Sir Theodore Martin thus mentions the subject: — "The evening was enlivened by the presence of Mr. Nasmyth, the inventor of the steam hammer, who had extensive works at Patricroft. He exhibited and explained the map and drawings in which he had embodied the results of his investigations of the conformations of the surface of the Moon. The Queen in her Diary dwells at considerable length on the results of Mr. Nasmyth's inquiries. The charm of his manner, in which the simplicity, modesty, and enthusiasm of genius are all strikingly combined, are warmly dwelt upon. Mr. Nasmyth belongs to a family of painters, and would have won fame for himself as an artist —for his landscapes are as true to Nature as his compositions are full of fancy and feeling—had not science and mechanical invention claimed him for their own. His drawings were submitted on this occasion. and their beauty was generally admired.* [footnote… In his lecture on the "Geological Features of Edinburgh and its Neighbourhood," in the following year, Hugh Miller, speaking of the Castle Rock, observed: —"The underlying strata, though geologically and in their original position several hundred feet higher than those which underlie the Castle esplanade, are now, with respect to the actual level, nearly 200 feet lower. In a lecture on what may be termed the geology of the Moon, delivered in the October of last year before Her Majesty and Prince Albert by Mr. Nasmyth, he referred to certain appearances on the surface of that satellite that seemed to be the results, in some very ancient time, of the sudden falling in of portions of an unsupported crust, or a retreating nucleus of molten matter; and took occasion to suggest that some of the great slips and shifts on the surface of our own planet, with their huge downcasts, may have had a similar origin. The suggestion is at once bold and ingenious." …]
The next time I visited Edinburgh was in the autumn of 1853. Lord Cockburn, an old friend, having heard that I was sojourning in the city, sent me the following letter, dated "Bonally, 3rd September," inviting me to call a meeting of the Faithful:
"MY DEAR Sir—Instead of being sketching, as I thought, in Switzerland, I was told yesterday that you were in Auld Reekie. Then why not come out here next Thursday, or Friday, or Saturday, and let us have a Hill Day? I suppose I need not write to summon the Faithful, because not having been in Edinburgh except once for above a month, I don't know where the Faithful are. But you must know their haunts, and it can't give you much trouble to speak to them. I should like to see Lauder here. And don't forget the Gaberlunzie.—Ever,
H. COCKBURN"* [footnote… James Ballantine, author of The Gaberlunzie's Wallet. In August 1865 Mr. Ballantine wrote to me saying: "If ever you are in Auld Reekie I should feel proud of a call from you. I have not forgotten the delightful day we spent together many years ago at Bonny Bonally with the eagle-eyed Henry Cockburn!" …]
The meeting came off. I collected a number of special friends about me, and I took my wife to the meeting of the Faithful. There were present David Roberts, Clarkson Stanfield, Louis and Carl Haag, Sir George Harvey, James Ballantine, and D. O. Hill—all artists. We made our way to Bonny Bonally, a charming residence, situated at the foot of the Pentland Hills.* [footnote… The house was afterwards occupied by the lamented Professor Hodgson, the well-known Political Economist. …] The day was perfect—in all respects "equal to bespoke." With that most genial of men, Lord Cockburn, for our guide, we wandered far up the Pentland Hills. After a rather toilsome walk we reached a favourite spot. It was a semicircular hollow in the hillside, scooped out by the sheep for shelter. It was carpeted and cushioned with a deep bed of wild thyme, redolent of the very essence of rural fragrance.
We sat down in a semicircle, our guide in the middle. He said in his quaint peculiar way, "Here endeth the first lesson." After gathering our breath, and settling ourselves to enjoy our well-earned rest, we sat in silence for a time. The gentle breeze blew past us, and we inhaled the fragrant air. It was enough for a time to look on, for the glorious old city was before us, with its towers, and spires, and lofty buildings between us and the distance. On one side Arthur's Seat, and on the other the Castle, the crown of the city. The view extended far and wide—on to the waters of the Forth and the blue hills of Fife. The view is splendidly described by "Delta": —
"Traced like a map, the landscape lies
In cultured beauty, stretching wide:
Here Pentland's green acclivities,—
There ocean, with its swelling tide,—
There Arthur's Seat and gleaming through
Thy Southern wing, Dull Edin blue!
While, in the Orient, Lammer's daughters,—
A distant giant range, are seen;
North Berwick Law, with cone of green,
And Bass amid the waters."
Then we began to crack, our host leading the way with his humorous observations. After taking our fill of rest and talk, we wended our way down again, with the "wimplin' burn" by our side, fresh from the pure springs of the hill, whispering its welcome to us.
We had earned a good appetite for dinner, which was shortly laid before us.
The bill of fare was national, and included a haggis:
"Fair fa' your honest sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin' race!
Weel are ye wordy o'a grace
As lang's my arm!"
The haggis was admirably compounded and cooked, and was served forth by our genial host with all appropriate accompaniments. But the most enjoyable was the conversation of Lord Cockburn, who was a master of the art—quick ready, humorous, and full of wit. At last, the day came to a close, and we wended our way towards the city.
Let me, however, before concluding, say a few words in reference to my dear departed friend David Oswald Hill. His name calls up many recollections of happy hours spent in his company. He was, in all respects, the incarnation of geniality. His lively sense of humour, combined with a romantic and poetic constitution of mind, and his fine sense of the beautiful in Nature and art, together with his kindly and genial feeling, made him, all in all, a most agreeable friend and companion. "D. O. Hill," as he was generally called, was much attached to my father. He was a very frequent visitor at our Edinburgh fireside, and was ever ready to join in our extemporised walks and jaunts, when he would overflow with his kindly sympathy and humour. He was a skilful draughtsman, and possessed a truly poetic feeling for art. His designs for pictures were always attractive, from the fine feeling exhibited in their composition and arrangement. But somehow, when he came to handle the brush, the result was not always satisfactory—a defect not uncommon with artists. Altogether, he was a delightful companion and a staunch friend, and his death made a sad blank in the artistic society of Edinburgh.
CHAPTER 19. More about Astronomy.
Astronomy, instead of merely being an amusement, became my chief study. It occupied many of my leisure hours. Desirous of having the advantage of a Reflecting Telescope of large aperture, I constructed one of twenty-inches diameter. In order to avoid the personal risk and inconvenience of having to mount to the eye-piece by a ladder, I furnished the telescope tube with trunnions, like a cannon, with one of the trunnions hollow so as to admit of the eye-piece. Opposite to it a plain diagonal mirror was placed, to transmit the image to the eye. The whole was mounted on a turn-table, having a seat opposite to the eye-piece, as will be seen in the engraving on the other side.
[Image] "Trunnion Vision" Reflecting telescope of 20-inch diameter mounted on a turn-table.
The observer, when seated, could direct the telescope to any part of the heavens without moving from his seat. Although this arrangement occasioned some loss of light, that objection was more than compensated by the great convenience which it afforded for the prosecution of the special class of observations in which I was engaged namely, that of the Sun, Moon, and Planets.
I wrote to my old friend Sir David Brewster, then living at St. Andrews, in 1849, about this improvement and he duly congratulated me upon my devotion to astronomical science. In his letter to me he brought to mind many precious memories.
"I recollect," he said, "with much pleasure the many happy hours that I spent in your father's house; and ever since I first saw you in your little workshop at Edinburgh,—then laying the foundation of your future fortunes,—I have felt a deep interest in your success, and rejoiced at your progress to wealth and reputation.
"I have perused with much pleasure the account you have sent me of your plan of shortening and moving large telescopes, and I shall state to you the opinion which I have formed of it. If you will look into the article 'Optics' in the Edinburgh Encyclopedia (vol. xv. p. 643), you will find an account of what has been previously done to reduce by one-half the length of reflecting telescopes. The advantage of substituting, as you propose, a convex for a plane mirror arises from two causes that a spherical surface is more easily executed than a plane one; and that the spherical aberration of the larger speculum, if it be spherical, will be diminished by the opposite aberration of the convex one. This advantage, however, will disappear if the plane mirror of the old construction is accurately plane; and in your case, if the large speculum is parabolic and the small one elliptical in their curvature.
"The only objection to your construction is the loss of light; first of one-fourth of the whole incident light by obstruction, and then one-half of the remainder by reflection from the convex mirror, thus reducing 100 rays of incident light to 37 1/2 before the pencil is thrown out of the tube by a prism or a third reflector. This loss of light, it is true, may be compensated by an additional inch or two to the margin of the large speculum; but still it is the best part of the large speculum that is made unproductive by the eclipse of it by the convex speculum. "With regard to the mechanical contrivance which you propose for working the instrument, I think it is singularly ingenious and beautiful, and will compensate for any imperfection in the optical arrangements which are rendered necessary for its adoption. The application of the railway turn-table is very happy, and not less so is the extraction of the image through the hollow trunnions.
"I am much obliged to you for the beautiful drawing of the apparatus for grinding and polishing specula, invented by Mr. Lassell and constructed by yourself. I shall be glad to hear of your further progress in the construction of your telescope; and I trust that I shall have the pleasure of meeting you and Mr. Lassell at the Birmingham meeting of the British Association.
In the course of the same year (1849) I sent a model of my Trunnion turn-table telescope for exhibition at a lecture at the Royal Institution, given by my old friend Edward Cowper. In the model I had placed a neat little figure of the observer, but the head had unfortunately been broken off during its carriage to London. Mrs. Nasmyth had made the wearing apparel; but Edward Cowper wrote to her, before the lecture, that he had put "Sir Fireside Brick" all to rights in respect of his garb. His letter after the lecture was quite characteristic.
"The lecture," he said, "went off very well last night. All the models performed their duty, and were duly applauded for doing so. My new equatorial was approved of by astronomers and by instrument-makers. The last gun I fired was a howitzer, but mounted swivel-gun fashion; on a sort of revolving platform, or something like a turn-table proper —the gunner at the side of the carriage. Do you know anything of the kind? Bang! Invented by one Nasmyth. Bang! The observer is sitting at ease; the stars are brought down to you instead of your creeping up a scaffolding after the stars. Well, the folks came to the table after the lecture, and 'The Nasmyth Telescope' kept banging away for a quarter of an hour, and was admired by everybody. The loss of light was not much insisted on, but it was said that you ran the risk of error of form in three surfaces instead of two. I see that Sir J. South states that Lord Rosse would increase the light of his telescope from five to seven by adopting Herschel's plan.
"De La Rue was quite delighted. He said, 'Well, I congratulate you on a most splendid lecture—I cannot call it anything else.' My father, who takes very little interest in these things, said, 'Well, Edward has made me understand more about telescopes than I ever did in my life.' The theatre was full, gallery and all. They were very attentive, and I never felt more comfortable in a lecture. I am happy to say that, having administered a dose of cement to Mrs. Nasmyth's friend, Sir Fireside Brick of Green Lanes, he is now in a convalescent state. The lecture is to be repeated in another fortnight. With many thanks for your kind assistance, yours very sincerely,
"EDWARD COWPER."
In the course of my astronomical inquiries I had occasion to consider the causes of the sun's light. I observed the remarkable phenomena of the variable and some times transitory brightness of the stars. In connection with geology, there was the evidence of an arctic or glacial climate in regions where such cannot now naturally exist; thus giving evidence of the existence of a condition of climate, for the explanation of which we look in vain for any at present known cause. I wrote a paper on the subject, which I sent to the Astronomical Society. It was read in May 1851. In that paper I wrote as follows:
"A course of observations on the solar spots, and on the remarkable features which from time to time appear on the sun's surface, which I have examined with considerable assiduity for several years, had in the first place led me to entertain the following conclusion: namely, that whatever be the nature of solar light, its main source appears to result from an action induced on the exterior surface of solar sphere,— a conclusion in which I doubt not all who have attentively pursued observations on the structure of the sun's surface will agree.
"Impressed with the correctness of this conclusion, I was led to consider whether we might not reasonably consider the true source of the latent element of light to reside, not in the solar orb, but in space itself; and that the grand function and duty of the sun was to act as an agent for bringing forth into vivid existence its due portion of the illuminating or luciferous element, which element I suppose to be diffused throughout the boundless regions of space, and which in that case must be exhaustless.
Assuming, therefore, that the sun's light is the result of some peculiar action by which it brings forth into visible existence the element of light, which I conceive to be latent in, and diffused throughout space, we have but to imagine the existence of a very probable condition, namely, the unequal diffusion of this light-yielding element, to catch a glimpse of a reason why our sun may, in common with his solar brotherhood, in some portions of his vast stellar orbit, have passed, and may yet have to pass, through regions of space, in which the light-yielding element may either abound or be deficient, and so cause him to beam forth with increased splendour, or fade in brilliancy, just in proportion to the richness or poverty of this supposed light-yielding element as may occur in those regions of space through which our sun, in common with every stellar orb, has passed, is now passing, or is destined to pass, in following up their mighty orbits.
"Once admit that this light-yielding element resides in space, and that it is not equally diffused, we may then catch a glimpse of the cause of the variable and transitory brightness of stars,and more especially of those which have been known to beam forth with such extraordinary splendour, and have again so mysteriously faded away; many instances of which abound in historical record.
"Finally, in reference to such a state of change having come over our sun, as indicated by the existence of a glacial period, as is now placed beyond doubt by geological research, it appears to me no very wild stretch of analogy to suppose that in such former periods of the earth's history our sun may have passed through portions of his stellar orbit in which the light-yielding element was deficient, and in which case his brilliancy would have suffered the while, and an arctic climate in consequence spread from the poles towards the equator, and thus leave the record of such a condition in glacial handwriting on the everlasting walls of our mountain ravines, of which there is such abundant and unquestionable evidence. As before said, it is the existence of such facts as we have in stars of transitory brightness, and the above named evidence of an arctic climate existing in what are now genial climates, that renders some adequate cause to be looked for. I have accordingly hazarded the preceding remarks as suggestive of a cause, in the hope that the subject may receive that attention which its deep interest entitles it to obtain.
"This view of the source of light, as respects the existence of the luciferous element throughout space, accords with the Mosaic account of creation, in so far as that light is described as having been created in the first instance before the sun was called forth." Dr Siemens read a paper before the Royal Society in March 1882, on "A New Theory of the Sun". His views in many respects coincided with mine.* [footnote… Interstellar space, according to Dr. Siemens, is filled with attenuated matter, consisting of highly rarefied gaseous bodies— including hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, carbon, and aqueous vapour; that these gaseous compounds are capable of being dissociated by radiant solar energy while in a state of extreme attenuation; and that the vapours so dissociated are drawn towards the sun in consequence of solar rotation, are flashed into flame in the photosphere, and rendered back into space in the condition of products of combustion. With respect to the influence of the sun's light on geology, Dr. Siemens says: "The effect of this continuous outpour of solar materials could not be without very important influences as regards the geological conditions of our earth. Geologists have long acknowledged the difficulty of accounting for the amount of carbonic acid that must have been in our atmosphere at one time or another in order to form with lime those enormous beds of dolomite and limestone of which the crust of our earth is in great measure composed. It has been calculated that if this carbonic acid had been at one and the same time in our atmosphere it would have caused an elastic pressure fifty times that of our present atmosphere; and if we add the carbonic acid that must have been absorbed in vegetation in order to form our coal-beds we should probably have to double that pressure. Animal life, of which we had abundant traces in these 'measures,' could not have existed under such conditions, we are almost forced to the conclusion that the carbonic acid must have been derived from an external source." …]
Soon after my paper was read, Lord Murray of Henderland, an old friend, then a Judge on the Scottish Bench, wrote to me as follows: —"I shall be much obliged to you for a copy, if you have a spare one, of your printed note on Light. It is expressed with great clearness and brevity. If you wish to have a quotation for it, you may have recourse to the blind Milton, who has expressed your views in his address to Light: —
"'Hail, holy Light! offspring of heaven first-born
Or of the Eternal co-eternal beam
May I express thee unblamed? since God is light,
And never but in unapproached light
Dwelt from eternity—dwelt then in thee,
Bright effluence of bright essence increate!"'
About the same time Sir Thomas Mitchell, Surveyor General of Australia, communicated his notions on the subject. "My dear Sir," he wrote, "Your kind and valuable communications are as welcome to me as the sun's light, and I now thank you most gratefully for the last, with its two enclosures. These, and especially your views as to the source of light, afford me new scope for satisfactory thinking—a sort of treasure one can always carry about, and, unlike other treasures, is most valuable in the solitude of a desert. The beauty of your theory as to the nature of the source of light is, that it rather supports all preconceived notions respecting the soul, heaven, and an immortal state."
I still continued the study of astronomy. The sun, moon, and planets yielded to me an inexhaustible source of delight. I gazed at them with increasing wonder and awe. Among the glorious objects which the telescope reveals, the most impressive is that of the starry heavens in a clear dark night. When I directed my 20-inch reflecting telescope almost at random to any part of the firmament, especially to any portion of the Milky Way, the sight of myriads of stars brought into view within the field of the eye-piece was overpoweringly sublime.
When it is considered that every one of these stars which so bewilderingly crowd the field of vision is, according to rational probability, and, I might even say, absolute certainty, are Suns as vast in magnitude as that which gives light to our globe, and yet situated so inconceivably deep in the abyss of space as to appear minute points of light even to the most powerful telescope, it will be felt what a sublime subject appears before us. Turn the telescope to any part of the heavens, it is the same.
Let us suppose ourselves perched upon the farthest star which we are enabled to see by the aid of the most powerful telescope. There, too, we should see countless myriads of Suns, rolling along in their appointed orbits, and thus on and on throughout eternity. What an idea of the limitless extent of Creative Power—filling up infinite space with the evidences of His Almighty Presence! The human mind feels its utter impotency in endeavouring to grasp such a subject.
I also turned my attention to the microscope. In 1851 I examined, by the aid of this instrument, the infusoria in the Bridgewater Canal. I found twenty-seven of them, of the most varied form, colour, and movements. This was almost as remarkable a revelation as the mighty phenomena of the heavens. I found these living things moving about in the minutest drop of water. The sight of the wonderful range of creative power—from the myriads of suns revealed by the telescope, to the myriads of moving organisms revealed by the microscope—filled me with unutterably devout wonder and awe.
Moreover, it seemed to me to confer a glory even upon the instruments of human skill, which elevated man to the Unseen and the Divine. When we examine the most minute organisms, we find clear evidence in their voluntary powers of motion that these creatures possess a will, and that such Will must be conveyed by a nervous system of an infinitesimally minute description. When we follow out such a train of thought, and contrast the myriads of suns and planets at one extreme, with the myriads of minute organised atoms at the other, we cannot but feel inexpressible wonder at the transcendent range of Creative Power.
Shortly after, I sent to the Royal Astronomical Society a paper on another equally wonderful subject, "The Rotatory Movements of the Celestial Bodies. As the paper is not very long, and as I endeavoured to illustrate my ideas in a familiar manner, I may here give it entire:
"What first set me thinking on this subject was the endeavour to get at the reason of why water in a basin acquires a rotatory motion when a portion of it is allowed to escape through a hole in the bottom. Every well-trained philosophical judgment is accustomed to observe illustrations of the most sublime phenomena of creation in the most minute and familiar operations of the Creator's laws, one of the most characteristic features of which consists in the absolute and wonderful integrity maintained in their action whatsoever be the range as to magnitude or distance of the objects on which they operate.
"For instance, the minute particles of dew which whiten the grass-blade in early morn are moulded into spheres by the identical law which gives to the mighty sun its globular form!
"Let us pass from the rotation of water in a basin to the consideration of the particles of a nebulous mass just summoned into existence by the fiat of the Creator—the law of gravitation coexisting. "The first moment of the existence of such a nebulous mass would be inaugurated by the election of a centre of gravity, and, instantly after, every particle throughout the entire mass of such nebulae would tend to and converge towards that centre of gravity.
"Now let us consider what would be the result of this. It appears to me that the inevitable consequence of the convergence of the particles towards the centre of gravity of such a nebulous mass would not only result in the formation of nucleus, but by reason of the physical impossibility that all the converging particles should arrive at the focus of convergence in directions perfectly radial and diametrically opposite to each other, however slight the degree of deviation from the absolute diametrically opposite direction in which the converging particles coalesce at the focus of attraction, a twisting action would result, and Rotation ensue, which, once engendered, be its intensity ever so slight, from that instant forward the nucleus would continue to revolve, and all the particles which its attraction would subsequently cause to coalesce with it, would do so in directions tangential to its surface, and not diametrically towards its centre.
"In due course of time the entire of the remaining nebulous mass would become affected with rotation from the more rapidly moving centre, and would assume what appears to me to be their inherent normal condition, namely, spirality, as the prevailing character of their structure; and as that is actually the aspect which may be said to characterise the majority of those marvellous nebulae, as revealed to us by Lord Rosse's magnificent telescope, I am strongly impressed with the conviction that such reasons as I have assigned have been the cause of their spiral aspect and arrangement.
"And by following up the same train of reasoning, it appears to me that we may catch a glimpse of the primeval cause of the rotation of every body throughout the regions of space, whether they be nebulae, stars, double stars, or planetary systems.
"The primary cause of rotation which I have endeavoured to describe in the preceding remarks is essentially cosmical, and is the direct and immediate offspring of the action of gravitation on matter in a diffused, nebulous, and, as such, highly mobile condition.
"It will be obvious that in the case of a nebulous mass, whose matter is unequally distributed, that in such a case several sub-centres of gravity would be elected, that is to say, each patch of nebulous matter would have its own centre of gravity; but these in their turn subordinate to that of the common centre of gravity of the whole system, about which all such outlaying parts would revolve. Each of the portions above alluded to would either be attracted by the superior mass, and pass in towards it as a wisp of nebulous matter, or else establish perfect individual and distinct rotation within itself, and finally revolve about the great common centre of gravity of the whole.
"Bearing this in mind, and referring to some of the figures of the marvellous spiral nebulae which Lord Rosse's telescope has revealed to us, I shall now bring these suggestions to a conclusion. I have avoided expanding them to the extent I feel the subject to be worthy and capable of; but I trust such as I have offered will be sufficient to convey a pretty clear idea of my views on this sublime subject, which I trust may receive the careful consideration its nature entitles it to. Let any one carefully reflect on the reason why water assumes a rotatory motion when a portion of it is permitted to escape from an aperture in the bottom of the circular vessel containing it; if they will do so in the right spirit, I am fain to think they will arrive at the same conclusion as the contemplation of this familiar phenomenon has brought me to.
" BRIDGEWATER FOUNDARY, June 7, 1855."
I was present at a meeting of the Geological Society at Manchester in 1853, in the discussions of which I took part.
I was much impressed by an address of the Rev. Dr. Vaughan (then Principal of the Independent College at Manchester), which is as interesting now as it was then. After referring to the influence which geological changes had produced upon the condition of nations, and the moral results which oceans, mountains, islands, and continents have had upon the social history of man, he went on to say: "Is not this island of ours indebted to these great causes? Oh, that blessed geological accident that broke up a strait between Calais and Dover! It looks but a little thing; it was a matter to take place; but how mighty the moral results upon the condition and history of this country, and, through this country's influence, upon humanity! Bridge over the space between, and you have directly the huge continental barrack-yard system all over England. And once get into the condition of a great continental military power, and you get the arbitrary power; you cramp down the people, and you unfit them from being what they ought to be—FREE And all the good influences together at work in this country could not have secured us against this, but for that blessed separation between this Isle and the Continent."
In 1853 I was appointed a member of the Small Arms Committee for the purpose of re-modelling and, in fact, re-establishing the Small Arms Factory at Enfield. The wonderful success of the needle gun in the war between Prussia and Denmark in 1848 occasioned some alarm amongst our military authorities as to the state of affairs at home. The Duke of Wellington to the last proclaimed the sufficiency of "Brown Bess" as a weapon of offence and defence; but matters could no longer be deferred. The United States Government, though possessing only a very small standing army, had established at Springfield a small arms factory, where, by the use of machine tools specially designed to execute with the most unerring precision all the details of muskets and rifles, they were enabled to dispense with mere manual dexterity, and to produce arms to any amount. It was finally determined to improve the musketry and rifle systems of the English army. The Government resolved to introduce the American system, by which Arms might be produced much more perfectly, and at a great diminution of cost. It was under such circumstances that the Small Arms Committee was appointed.
Colonel Colt had brought to England some striking examples of the admirable machine tools used at Springfield, and he established a manufactory at Pimlico for the production of his well-known revolvers. The committee resolved to make a personal visit to the United States Factory at Springfield. My own business engagements at home prevented me accompanying the members who were selected; but as my friend John Anderson (now Sir John), acted as their guide, the committee had in him a most able and effective helper. He directed their attention to the most important and available details of that admirable establishment. The United States Government acted most liberally in allowing the committee to obtain every information on the subject; and the heads of the various departments, who were intelligent and zealous, rendered them every attention and civility.
The members of the mission returned home enthusiastically delighted with the results of their inquiry.The committee immediately proceeded with the entire re-modelling of the Small Arms Factory at Enfield. The workshops were equipped with a complete series of special machine tools, chiefly obtained from the Springfield factory. The United States Government also permitted several of their best and workman and superintendents to take service under the English Government. Such was the origin of the Enfield rifle. The weapon came as near to absolute perfection as possible, It was perfect in action, durable and excellent in every respect even in it's conversion to the breechloader it is still one of the best weapons. It is impossible to give too much praise to Sir John Anderson and Colonel Dixon for the untiring and intelligent zeal with which they carried out the plans, as well as for the numerous improvements which they introduced. These have rendered the Enfield Small Arms Factory one of the most perfect and best regulated establishments in the kingdom.
CHAPTER 20. Retirement from Business.
I had been for some time contemplating the possibility of retiring altogether from business. I had got enough of the world's goods, and was willing to make way for younger men. But I found it difficult to break loose from old associations. Like the retired tallow-chandler, I might wish to go back "on melting days." I had some correspondence with my old friend David Roberts, Royal Academician, on the subject. He wrote to me on the 2d June 1853, and said:
"I rejoice to learn, from the healthy tone that breathes throughout your epistle, that you are as happy as every one who knows you wishes you to be, and as prosperous as you deserve. Knowing, also, as I do, your feeling for art and all that tends to raise and dignify man, I most sincerely congratulate you on the prospect of your being able to retire, in the full vigour of manhood, to follow out that sublime pursuit, in comparison with which the painter's art is but a faint glimmering. 'The Landscape of other worlds' you alone have sketched for us, and enlightened us on that with which the ancient world but gazed upon and worshipped in the symbol of Astarte, Isis, and Diana. We are matter-of-fact now, and have outlived childhood. What say you to a photograph of those wonderful drawings? It may come to that."* [footnote… It did indeed "come to that," for I shortly after learned the art of photography, chiefly for this special purpose. …]
But I had something else yet to do in my special vocation. In 1854 I took out a patent for puddling iron by means of steam. Many of my readers may not know that cast-iron is converted into malleable iron by the process called puddling. The iron, while in a molten state, is violently stirred and agitated by a stiff iron rod, having its end bent like a hoe or flattened hook, by which every portion of the molten metal is exposed to the oxygen of the air, and the supercharge of carbon which the cast iron contains is thus "burnt out." When this is effectually done the iron becomes malleable and weldable.
This state of the iron is indicated by a general loss of fluidity, accompanied by a tendency to gather together in globular masses. The puddler, by his dexterous use of the end of the rabbling bar, puts the masses together, and, in fact, welds the new-born particles of malleable iron into puddle-balls of about three-quarters of a hundredweight each. These are successively removed from the pool of the puddling furnace, and subjected to the energetic blows of the steam hammer, which drives out all the scoriae lurking within the spongy puddle-balls, and thus welds them into compact masses of malleable iron. When reheated to a welding heat, they are rolled out into flat bars or round rods, in a variety of sizes, so as to be suitable for the consumer.
The manual and physical labour of the puddler is tedious, fatiguing, and unhealthy. The process of puddling occupies about an hour's violent labour, and only robust young men can stand the fatigue and violent heat. I had frequent opportunities of observing the labour and unhealthiness of the process, as well as the great loss of time required to bring it to a conclusion. It occurred to me that much of this could be avoided by employing some other means for getting rid of the superfluous carbon, and bringing the molten cast-iron into a malleable condition.
The method that occurred to me was the substitution of a small steam pipe in the place of the puddler's rabbling bar. By having the end of this steam pipe bent downwards so as to reach the bottom of the pool, and then to discharge a current of steam beneath the surface of the molten cast iron, I thought that I should by this simple means supply a most effective carbon-oxidating agent, at the same time that I produced a powerful agitating action within the pool. Thus the steam would be decomposed and supply oxygen to the carbon of the cast-iron, while the mechanical action of the rush of steam upwards would cause so violent a commotion throughout the pool of melted iron as to exceed the utmost efforts of the labour of the puddler. All the gases would pass up the chimney of the puddling furnace, and the puddler would not be subject to their influence. Such was the method specified in my patent of l854* [footnote… Specification of James Nasmyth—Employment of steam in the process of puddling iron. May 4, 1854; No. 1001. …]
My friend, Thomas Lever Rushton, proprietor of the Bolton Ironworks, was so much impressed with the soundness of the principle, as well as with the great simplicity of carrying the invention into practical effect, that he urged me to secure the patent, and he soon after gave me the opportunity of trying the process at his works. The results were most encouraging. There was a great saving of labour and time compared with the old puddling process; and the malleable iron produced was found to be of the highest order as regarded strength, toughness, and purity. My process was soon after adopted by several iron manufacturers with equally favourable results. Such, however, was the energy of the steam, that unless the workmen were most careful to regulate its force and the duration of its action, the waste of iron by undue oxidation was such as in a great measure to neutralise its commercial gain as regarded the superior value of the malleable iron thus produced.
Before I had time or opportunity to remove this commercial difficulty, Mr. Bessemer had secured his patent of the l7th of October, 1855. By this patent he employed a blast of air to do the same work as I had proposed to accomplish by means of a blast of steam, forced up beneath the surface of the molten cast iron. He added some other improvements, with that happy fertility of invention which has always characterised him. The results were so magnificently successful as to totally eclipse my process, and to cast it comparatively into the shade. At the same time I may say that I was in a measure the pioneer of his invention, that I initiated a new system, and led to one of the most important improvements in the manufacture of iron and steel that has ever been given to the world.