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Full text of "Harmsworth self-educator : a golden key to success in life"

Presented to the 

LIBRARY of the 

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO 

by 
O.I.S.E. LIBRARY 



HARMSWORTH SELF-EDUCATOR 

1906 
Vol. IV. Pages 26413504 



A KEY TO THE HARMSWORTH SELF-EDUCATOR 



GROUP i. 

Agriculture. Beekeeping. Gardening. 

FARMING. In all its Branches. Dairying. Poultry. 
BEEKEEPING. A Practical and Commercial Course. 
GARDENING. How to Get the Most out of a Minimum of Land. Garden- 
ing for Pleasure and Profit. Market Gardening. 
GROUP 2. 

Art. Architecture. Glass. Earthenware. Carving. 

ART. Theory d Training. Painting. Sculpture. Aiehitecture (Theory. 

r>tyles. Practical Training). History and Ideals of Art. 
GLASS AND EARTHENWARE. Including Pottery. 
CARVING. Wood. Bone. Ivory. Horn. Tortoiseshell. 
GROUP 3. 

Biology. Psychology. Sociology. Logic. Philosophy. 
Religion. 

BIOLOGY. Including Evolution, Palaeontology, Heredity, Anthropo 

logy. Ethnology. 

PSYCHOLOGY. Including Psychical Research. 
SOCIOLOGY. Including Political Economy. 
Lot: ic. The Science of Reasoning. 
PHILOSOPHY. Systems of Thought. 
RELIGION. History and Systems. Christianity. 

Building. Cabinet MakTng* Upholstering. Fire. 

BUILDING. Excavating. Drainage. Manufacture of Bricks, Limes, 
and Cements. Bricklaying. Clay Wares. Reinforced Concrete. 
Masonry. Carpentry. Slates and Tiles. Plumbing. Joinery. 
Foundry and Smiths' Work. Painting, Paperhanging and 
Glaring, Heating, Lighting, and Ventilation. Building Regulations. 
Quantity Surveying. Building Abroad. In Business as a Builder. 

CABINET MAKING AND UPHOLSTERING. A Practical Course. . 

FIRE. Fireproof Materials. Fire Prevention. Fire Extinction. 
GROUP 5. 

Chemistry and Applied Chemistry. 

CHEMISTRY. Inorganic and Organic. Chemistry of the Stars. 
APPLIED CHEMISTRY. Acids and Alkalies. Oils (Fixed Oils and Fats; 
Waxes ; Essential Oils and Perfumes ; Paints and Polishes). Candles. 
Soaps. Glycerine. Glues and Adhesives. Starches. Inks. Tar and 
Wood Distillation. Matches. Celluloid. Manure. Waste Pro- 
ducts. Petroleum. Paper Making (including Paper Staining and 
Uses of Paper). Photography. 

GROUP 6. 
Civil Service. Army and Navy. 

CIVIL SERVICE. Municipal. National. Imperial. 
ARMI AND NAVY. How to Enter Them. 
GROUP 7. 

Clerkship and the Professions. 

CLERKSHIP AND ACCOUNTANCY. Complete Training. Bookkeeping. 

BANKING. The Whole Practice of Banking. 

INSURANCE. Life, Fire. Accident, Marine. 

AUCTIONEERING AND VALUING. Practical Training. 

ESTATE AGENCY. Departments and Officials of a Great Estate. Train- 
ing a Land Agent. 

MEDICINE. Training of a Doctor. Specialists. Veterinary Surgeons. 
Chemists and Druggists. Dentistry : The Dental Mechanic. Home 
and Professional Nursing. 

CHURCH. How to Enter the Ministry of all Denominations 

SCHOLASTIC. Teachers. Professorships. Governesses. Coaches. Tutors. 

SECRETARIES, etc. Institution Officials. Political Organisations. 
Lecturers. 

LAW. Solicitors and Barristers. Personal and Commercial Lav 
right. 

GROUP 8. 

Drawing and Design. 

DRAWING. Freehand. Object. Geometrical. Brush 
Light and Shade. 

TECHNICAL DRAWING. For Engineers ; Coppersmiths. Tinmen. Boiler- 
makers; Architects; Stonemasons; Carpenters and Joiners; Plumber" 

DEHION. Book Decoration. J Humiliation. Textiles. Wall Paper 



Copy- 



Memory. 



tpers. 



DRESS. Dressmakin 



GROUP 9. 

Dress. 

Underclothing. Children's Clothing. Tailor- 
ens Hats. Furs and Furriers. Feathers. 

GROUP 10. 

Electricity. 

, E ! e ?L rica l E "Sy\ ee S: Telegra 



Telegraphs and Telephones 
nsulatet ' w - Iu Businesl 



GROUP ii. 

Civil Engineering. 

^EmKr^Rdf^rfe. V t^ f C ^^ ction - *** 



apply. Sewerage. Refuse.~Hydra.uf 
Lightnonses. Foreign Work. In Business as~~a CivYfEn^ neert 



ilways and Tramways. Wat 
lics. Pumps. Harbours. Doc 



Docks 



Mechanical Engineering^ "Military Engineering 
Arms & Ammunition. 

MECHANICAL ExonmEiuM. Applied Mechanics. Workshop Prictiro 
Too s (Hand and Miscellaneous. Machine Tools Portable Mu-lVin; 
Tools). Machines and Appliances (A General Guide to Constrnrt n 
Clocks and batches. Scientific Instruments) 



Trenches nmsing luvers. Conditions in Peace and War 
ARMS AND AMMUNITION. Manufacture of Arms and Explosives. 
GROUP 13. 

Geography. Astronomy. 

GrooRAPHr. Physical. Political. Human. Comojercial 
AKTHONOMY. A Survey of the Solar System 
ii 



Geology. Mining. Metals and Minerals. Gas. 

GEOLOGY. The Making of the Earth. 

MINING The Practice of Mining : Coal. Gold, Diamonds Tin, etc. 

METALS. Metallurgy. Iron and Steel. Iron and Steel Manufactures. 

Metal Work. Cutlery. 

MINERALS. Mineralogy. Properties of Minerals. 
GAS. Manufacture of Gas. 

GROUP 15. 

History. 

A Short History of the World from the Beginning. 
GROUP 16. 

Housekeeping and Food Supply. 

SERVANTS. Qualifications and Duties of Every Kind of Servant. 

COOKERY. A Practical Course, with Recipes. 

LA-UNDHY WORK. Washing. The Laundry as a Business. 

FOODS AND BEVERAGES. Milling. Bread-making. Biscuits and Con- 
fectionery. Sugar. Condiments. Fruit Fisheries. Food Preserva- 
tion. Catering Brewing. Wines an Ciders. Mineral Waters. 
Tea, Coffee. Chocolate. Cocoa. 

GROUP 17. 

Ideas. Patents. Applied Education. 

IDEAS. The Power of Ideas in Life. Brains in Business. 
PATENTS AND INVENTIONS. How to Protect an Idea. 
APPLIED EDUCATION. Application of Education in Daily Life. Finance. 
GROUP 18. 

Languages. 

How to Study a Language. Courses in Latin, English, French, German, 
Spanish, Italian, Esperanto, Greek. A Table of Root Words. 

Literature. Journalism.' 'printing. Publishing. 
Libraries. 

LITERATURE. A Survey of the World's Great Books and their Writers. 

Poetry. Classics. Fiction. Miscellaneous. How to Read and Write. 
JOURNALISM. A Guide to Newspaper Work, with Practical Training. 
PRINTING. Composing by Hand and Machine. Type Cutting and 

Founding. Engraving and Blocks. Bookbinding and Publishing. 
LIBRARIES. Officials and Management of Libraries. 
GROUP 20 

Materials and Structures. Leather. Wood Working. 

MATERIALS. The Characteristics and Strength of Materials. 

STRUCTURES. The Stability of Structures. 

LEATHER. Leather Industry. Leather Belts. Boots and Shoes. 

Saddlery and Harness. Gloves. Sundry Leather Goods. 
WOOD WORKING. Design and Operation of Wood Working Machinery. 

Wood Turning. Miscellaneous Woodwork. 
GROUP 21. 

Mathematics. 

MATHEMATICS. Arithmetic. Algebra. Geometry. Plane Trigonometry. 
Conic Sections. 

GROUP 33. 

Music. Singing. Amusement. 

Music. Musical Theory. Tonic Solfa. Tuition in all Instruments. 

Orchestration, Conducting. Bell Ringing. Manufacture of 

Musical Instruments. 
SINGING. The Voice and Its Treatment. 
AMUSEMENT. Drama and Stage, including Elocution. Business side of 

Amusement. Sports Officials. 

UROUP 33. 

Natural History. Applied Botany. Bacteriology. 
Natural Products. 

NATURAI HISTORY. Botany: Kingdom of Nature its Marvels, Mech- 
anism, and Romance ; Flowers, Plants, Seeds, Trees, Fenis, Mosses, etc. 
Zoology : Animals, Birds, Fishes, Reptiles, Insects. 

APPLIKD BOTANY. Tobacco & Tobacco Pipes. Forestry. Rubber and Gutta 
Percha. Basket and Brush Making. Cane Work. Barks (Cork, Wattle) 

BACTERIOLOGY. Pathological and Economic. 

NATURAL PRODUCTS. Sources. Values. Cultivation. 
GROUP 24. 

Physics. Power. Prime Movers. 

PHYSICS. A Complete Course in the Science of Matter and Motion 
POWER. A General Survey of Power. Natural Sources. Liquid 'and 

Compressed Air. 

PRIME MOVERS. Engines. Steam. Gas. Heat. Turbines. Windmills. 
GROUP 25. 

Physiology. Health. Ill-health. 

PHYSIOLOGY. Plan of the Body. Digestive. Circulatory. Respiratory 
Locomotor and Nervous Systems. The Senses. 

>ub?ic a Hea'lth er80nal IIygiene - Envir nment. 
ILL-HEALTH. General Ill-health, 
ments and Domestic Remedies. 

GROUP 36. 

Shopkeeping. Business Management. Publicity 

SHOPKEEPING. A Practical Guide to the Keeping of all Kinds of Suons 
BUSINESS MANAGEMENT. The Application of System in Business 
PUBLICITY. Advertising from all Points of View As a Business. 
GROUP 27. 

Shorthand and Typewriting. 

SHORTHAND. Taught by Pitmans. TYPEWRITING 
Management of all Machines. 

GROUP 28. 

Textiles and Dyeing. 

TEXTILES. The Textile Trades from Beginning to End. 
DYEING. Dyes and Their Application. 



Its Special Forms. Common Ail- 



Working and 



TRAVEL. 
TRANSIT. 



Travel and Transit. 



How to See the World. The Business Side of Travel. 
A General Survey of Means of Communication. 
VEHICLES. Construction of Air, Land and Sea Vehicles. Business of a 

Liveryman. Carrier, etc. Driving. 
RAILWAYS. The Management and Control of Railways. 
SHIPS. Shipbuilding. Shipping. Management of Ships. 




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CARMEUTE..HOySE.]yON 




NTS OF THIS VOLUME 



AGRICULTURE PAC * ' 
Selling and Feeding Livestock . . 2701 
Stock Foods for Cattle .. .. ..2904 
Farm Buildings and Workers . . 2997 
Farming in Canada 3203 
Farming in Australia 3235 
Farming in New Zealand . . . . 34W 

APPLIED EDUCATION 

The Use of Time 2672 


-DRESS 

Men's Coats 2752 
Overcoats and Waistcoats . . . . 28 
Trying on and Fitting 3014 
Underclothing 3C 
Plain and Fancy Stitches . . . . 3336 
Underclothing 3472 

ELECTRICITY 

New Kinds of Electric Lamps .. 2682 


The Formation of Habits .. .. 2860 
The Choice Of Books -i 2937 
Inspiration 31 


Electricity Meters 2 
Electric Heating 3030 
Electric Accumulators 3 


The Finance of Life 3222 
Banks and Investments , 3482 

ART 

The Art of the East 2657 
3 000 years of Greek Ait . . . 2857 


Electroplating 3421 

FOOD SUPPLY 

Mills and Milling 3078 
Bread-making 32 
The Modern Bakery. . .... 3392 


Greek and Roman Sculpture . 2929 
Christian and Byzantine Art . 3089 
The Romanesque Period . . . <M 
Gothic Architecture 3373 

BUILDING 

Terra-cotta 2779 


GEOGRAPHY 

Asia, and Russia in Asia . . . . 2715 
South-west Asia and India . . . . 2817 
India and the Chinese Empire . . 2972 
The Japanese Empire. 3159 
The Continent of Africa 3275 


Masonry 2835 
Masonry and Slating Terms .. .. 2843 
Masonry Practice 3033 
Arches, Vaults, and Domes . . . . 3143 
The Use of Special Stones . . . . 32 


Northern Africa 3450 

HEALTH 

The Secret of Long Life 2661 
The Finance of Health 2794 


Dictionary of Terms in Carpentry. 3389 

CHEMISTRY 

Organic Chemistry 2710 
The Paraffins and Alcohol . . . . 2876 
The Value of Alcohol 3016 
The Ethers and their Uses . . . . 3138 
Some Products of Alcohol . . . . 3270 
The Fatty Acids ' . . 3485 


Health as Capital 3048 
Good Food Health's First Law . . 3109 
Food and Cookery 3311 
Beverages and Diets 3377 

HISTORY 

Growth of England's Liberties . . 2674 
Progress of England and Europe 2913 
Progress of European States . . 2945 
Wars Abroad and Strife at Home 3073 


CIVIL ENGINEERING 

Modern Bridges 2737 
Movable Bridges 2887 
Railway Construction 3051 
Railway Earthworks 3171 
Making the Embankment . . . 3252 
The Road of Rails 3429 

CIVIL SERVICE 

The Revenue Departments . . . . 2765 
The Post Office Service 2S07 
Diplomatic and Consular Service 2934 
Admiralty and War Office Posts . . 3195 
Special Home Appointments . . 3300 
The Imperial Service 3476 

CLERKSHIP 

Profit and Loss and Balance-sheet 2755 
Reserves and Sinking Funds . . 2881 
Partnership and Self-balancing 
Ledgers 2978 


King, Barons, and People . . . 3249 
The Hundred Years War .... 3463 

HOUSEKEEPING 

Washing and Drying 2688 
Folding and Ironing 2910 
Management of a Laundry . . . . 2964 

INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

Conditions of Employment in 
British Trades 2641 

LANGUAGES 

Spanish 2768 2917, 3056, 3207, 3348, 3494 
Italian 2770^ 2919, 3058, 3209, 3351, 3497 
French 2772, 2922, 3060, 3211, 3353, 3499 
German 2776, 2926, 3062, 3213, 3355, 3501 

LEATHER 

Leather Manufacture 2851 
Preparing for Tanning Peoper . . 3010 
Chrome and Oil Tanning . . . . 3162 
Dressing Leather 3217 


A Limited Company's Accounts . . 3185 
The Double-account System . . 3330 
Branch and Cost Accounts . . . . 3416 

DRAWING 

Brush Drawing . . .... 2691 


Polishing Leather 3455 

LITERATURE 

Living Prose Writers . . . .2685, 2785 
A Study of English Fiction .. .. 2961 


Technical Drawing 2788 
Drawing for Engineers 300J 
Terms in Technical Drawing . . 3009 
Shafts, Axles, and Couplings . . 3133 
Bearings and Axle-boxes . . . . 8263 
Pulleys and Rope Wheels . . . . 3423 


The Waverley Novels 3344 
From Scott to Stevenson . . . . 3438 

MATERIALS AND STRUCTURES 
Stability of Arches 2760 



AGB 
2747 
2S90 



MATHEMATICS 
Algebraic Factors 
The Remainder Theorem 
Fractions ............ 302:6 

Fraction sand Quadratic Equations 3198 

Quadratic Equations ...... 3290 
volution and Indices ...... 3411 



MECHANICAL ENGINEERING 

Moulding Boxes 

The Melting of Metals 

Smith's Work 

Plating- and Boiler Making . . . 
Terms used in Smiths' Work. . . 
The Turnery and Machine Shop . 
Milling and Grinding 



2862 



3107 
3316 
3401 



2845 
2955 
3190 
3304 
3457 



Terms in Machine and Fitting-shop 3409 

MINING 

Boring for Minerals . . 
Open-air Working . . 
Quarry Practice . . 

Making a Mine 

Mining Mineral Masses . . 
Making a Shaft 

MUSIC 

Violin Bowing 2741 

The Viola 8828 

The ViolonceHo 2968 

The Double-Bass 3167 

The Harp 3341 

Major Scales 3396 

NATURAL HISTORY 

Reptiles 2677 

Reptiles and Amphibia 2798 

Fishes 3065 

Shell-fish and Sea Shells . . . . 3113 

More Shell-fish 3284 

Life Histories of Insects 3361 

PHYSICS 
More Properties of Light . . . 2732 

Rainbows and Lenses 2899 

Marvels of Sight 2949 

Our Wonderful Eyes 3178 

Has Sight Reached its Limit '/ . . 3226 
Soap Bubbles and the Spectrum . 3367 

PSYCHOLOGY 

Emotions and Instincts 2694 

The Human Intellect 2803 

The Human Will 2993 

Mind and the Future of the Race 3117 

Psychical Research 3287 

Ou'r Two Selves 3382 

SHOPKEEPING 

Fur Merchants 2720 

Gentlemen's Outfitters 2722 

Glovers and Hosiers 2868 

Greengrocers 2869 

Grocers 3041 

Gun and Ammunition Dealers . . 3149 

Haberdashers 3151 

Hairdressers 3295 

Hatters . . 3443 

Herbalists 3445 

House Furnishers 3447 

TEXTILES 

Sewing Thread Manufacture . . 2707 

Counts of Yarn 2895 

Principles of Textiles Design . . 2939 

Textile Ornaments 3153 

Carpet Weavings 3357 

The Art of Weaving 3188 

TRANSIT 

The Vehicle Drawing Office . . . 2785 

Vehicle Body Making 2827 

Fittings for Vehicle Bodies . . . 8022 

Vehicle Undercarriages . . . 3121 

Vehicle Metal Work 3825 

Painting Vehicles 3479 



IV 




INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

CONDITIONS OF EMPLOYMENT IN BRITISH TRADES 



SELF-EDUCATOR aspires to point its 
students to the many avenues which lead to 
careers and to make them fitted for the careers 
to which it points. Professional careers, com- 
mercial careers, careers in the public Services 
practical information is given about all of these ; 
but the scheme would fall short of completeness 
if it did not include particulars of the many 
departments in the vast industrial organisa- 
tion which makes us the first manufacturing 
nation in the world. To show the essential 
conditions of employment in which our 
millions of producing operatives labour, the 
details given in the following pages have been 
compiled. Such an attempt has never before 
been made. 

Industrial Employment. Wo have 
striven to indicate in every case the duration 
and remuneration of apprenticeship and the 
wages and hours of the operatives, so that 
parents and guardians may compare the 
prospects in the many varieties of employment 
when selecting an occupation for those whose 
sphere in life they are determining. 

The conditions of employment vary very 
much in different districts. There is nothing 
approaching the uniformity which is found, for 
instance, in the municipal or civil services. 
The details given must be taken as representing 
the average prevailing generally throughout 
the country or in the chief centres where the 
various crafts are followed. 

Alphabetical arrangement has not been fol- 
lowed as it would have been realty alphabetical 
disorder. It has been deemed much more 
convenient to arrange the different industrial 
occupations in groups according to their nature, 
and to make the different trades in the several 
groups ascend from the preliminary to the 
finishing processes. The groups are considered 
in the following order : 

MINING AND QUARRYING. 

BUILDING TRADES. 

METAL AND SHIPBUILDING TRADES. 

HIDE AND LEATHER TRADES. 

TEXTILE AND CLOTHING TRADES. 

WOODWORKING TRADES. 

GLASS AND EARTHENWARE TRADES. 

PAPER AND PRINTING TRADES. 

MISCELLANEOUS TRADES. 

The Decay of Apprenticeship. Con- 
siderable light was thrown upon the decadence 
of apprenticeship in London by the recent 
special investigation by the London County 
Council. It is stated in the Council report 
that "it is a rare thing to find a young 
workman who can attack any branch of his 
trade successfully." It is found that in 
London the vast majority of managers and 
foremen are provincials who have secured their 
training in small provincial shops where they 
had the chance of receiving intelligent instruction 

A 27 



in the several departments. The division of 
labour not only limits the utility of the workman 
it stunts his intelligence. Monotony of occu- 
pation, ceaseless attention to a die press or an 
automatic machine, cannot stimulate thought 
or exercise the brain ; and there is need 
greater than ever for technical instruction to 
raise the man from being a food consuming 
machine. 

The SELF-EDUCATOR is a serious attempt 
to provide the means for improving the 
workman, who owes to himself and to his 
future the duty of taking full advantage 
of his opportunities. Every workman should 
make himself fitted for the position of 
foreman, every foreman for the position 
of manager. The race is to the swift, the 
battle to the strong, and promotion to those 
qualified to receive it. 

Official Encouragement. The encourage- 
ment of artisans is being undertaken as a 
public duty, and it is certain that the practice 
will become more general than it is. For 
instance, at the present time the London 
County Council offers 30 artisan scholarships 
10 of the annual value of 20 each and 20 of 
the annual v^ue of 10 each in addition to free 
tuition. It offers aho 100 so-called artisan 
evening " exhibitions " and 250 evening 
exhibitions in science and technology each 
exhibition carrying a prize of 5 per annum 
for two years. The nation is awaking to its 
responsibilities in technical instruction. 

MINING AND QUARRYING 

Coal Miners. Miners do not technically 
serve what is understood as an apprenticeship 
in other trades. 

In the Northumberland districts lads are paid 
at the standard rate of Is. Id., plus 15 per cent, 
per day of 10 hours.. Drivers of ponies receive 
Is. 4d., plus 15 per cent, per day. Other " off- 
hand " boys underground receive from Is. 6d. to 
3s. 3d., plus 15 per cent, per day, according to 
the class of work upon which they are engaged. 
Standard wages of pony putters are 3s. 2'4d., 
plus 15 per cent., and of hand putters, 4s. 8'63d., 
plus 15 per cent, per day. Hewers with long 
hours (7J), earn 5s. 2d., plus 15 per cent., and 
with short hours (6f ), 4s. 9|d., plus 15 per cent. 
" Above bank " labour is paid at the following 
rates : 

Bankmen on by score 10 hours, 4s. 4'7Cd. 
datal 10 3s. 6d. 
score 11 4s. 10'62d. 
datal 11 3s. 8'5d 
all plus 15 per cent. 

Other surface labour is paid at the rate of : 
Boys, Is. Id. to 2s. 10d., plus 12 per cent. 
Men, 2s. lOd. to 3s. 6d., 12 
In Scotland, young lads entering the mines 
at, say, 13 get at present from 2s. to 2s. 6d. per 

2641 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

day for the first year, with 6d. and Is. per day 
more for the second year, and 6d. per day further 
increase the third year. 

If they are strongly- built lads they are able 
to earn four- fifths of a miner's wage after four 
years in the mine. It is not uncommon for 
young lads of 17 and 18 years, if muscular, 
to be earning a man's wage of 5s. 6d. per day. 
When they have been six years in the mine, and 
are ordinarily strong young men, they can earn 
a man's wage. There is nothing to prevent any 
young man of 17, or even 16, years of age from 
doing so if he be strong enough and have the 
natural skill. 

There are no technical disabilities as in other 
trades. Young lads of 13 cannot be kept in the 
mine more than 54 hours per week, and not more 
than eight hours on any one day. The standard 
wage of the Scotch miners for the past three 
years has been 5s. 6d. per day. This is their 
minimum wage, arranged jointly by the Con- 
ciliation Board between the Scottish mineowners 
and Scottish miners. They work from eight to 
nine hours per day. Miners are paid by the 
piece, or so much per ton. They are not allowed 
anything for overtime. When men are working 
on a day's wage to the company, on special 
occasions they may be allowed time and a 
quarter, or time and a half, but there is no 
recognised rule on the subject. 

Ironstone Miners. In the Cleveland 
ironstone mines there are some 7,500 men 
employed 6,000 of them underground and the 
remainder on the surface. There is no formal 
apprenticeship. Boys in somewhat limited 
numbers begin to work underground at not 
less than 14 years of age, at a rate of Is. Id. per 
day, or 6s. 6d. per week, and in addition they get a 
percentage varying according to the price of pig- 
iron. At the present time the 6s. 6d. becomes, 
with the percentage, about 8s. per week. As the 
boys grow older their wages advance, until when 
they arrive at 21 they make, perhaps, 20s. per 
week in place of the 8s. with which they start. 
When the young men take to mining they may 
make 5s. 9d. to 6s. a day. 

A considerable number of men who have not 
been employed there as boys enter the mines as 
workmen to break up and fill the ironstone into 
little waggons or tubs ; these men earn about 
4s. 6d. a day. 

Workmen are generally paid by piece on the 
quantity of stone mined or filled. Overtime 
applies in a very limited degree, only a small 
portion of the workmen being required after 
the regular hours of the shift. 

Shale Miners. There are no apprentices in 
Scottish shale mining. Men, or strong lads, 
begin as drawers or fillers, and usually serve 
two years before being " facemen." Payment 
is at so much per ton, the amount being deter- 
mined by the Arbitration Board, and works 
out at about 6s. per day. Facemen get 6d 
to Is. per day more than drawers. Work 
is usually for nine hours per day, and being 
piecework, no extra remuneration is paid for 
overtime. 

2642 



Quarry men. There are several different 
classes of quarries those working beds of granite, 
whinstone, sandstone, limestone, and slate 
respectively. The chief seat of the granite 
quarry industry is in Aberdeen, and the con- 
ditions there may be considered typical of 
most quarry work, although they vary 
somewhat in different districts and in different 
classes of work. The men can scarcely be 
described as craftsmen, but rather as labourers, 
and skilled labourers. There is no apprentice- 
ship. The man commences at labourer's wages, 
and his first work is probably to wield a spade 
or wheel a barrow. Then, upon a display of 
aptitude, he is entrusted with drilling work, and 
is then somewhat of a skilled labourer with a 
slightly higher wage. The average wages of 
quarrymen throughout the country are from 4|d. 
to 6d. per hour. In slate quarrying appren- 
ticeship is not strict, but six years is the rule. It 
depends on the aptitude of the youth. Appren- 
tices are usually the sons of slate quarrymen; 
but this is not a condition, and there is no restric- 
tion as to numbers. Apprentices have an eight 
hours' working day. They are put upon piecework 
from the start, and earnings depend on skill and 
speed. All work is by contract ; but to obviate 
a contract not paying, the men are guaranteed 
a minimum wage, which varies from 25s. to 30s. 
per week, according to district. The day has 
10 working hours, but in winter is shorter, lasting 
from dawn to dusk. The minimum wage applies 
to both winter and summer work. 

BUILDING TRADES 

Masons and Stonecutters. Rules of 
employment vary considerably in different dis- 
tricts. Where workmen's unions are well con- 
stituted and well directed, the conditions are 
generally much more favourable to the operatives 
than elsewhere. In most districts the number 
of apprentices employed bears some relation to 
the number of workmen. It is often restricted 
by the workmen to a maximum of one apprentice 
for every two workmen employed by the firms 
on the year's average. 

In England, apprentices must be 14 years 
old ; they serve seven years, and usually receive 
wages as follow: 

First Year id. per hour. 

Second Year . . . . . . 2d. 

Third Year 3d! 

Fourth Year 3id 

Fifth Year 4d. " 

Sixth Year 5d. 

Seventh Year . . . . . . 6d. 

Payment by time is usual, and the average 
wages are 8d. per hour, except for outside work 
in winter, when the rate is |d. higher. Over- 
time up to 10 p.m. is paid at one arid a quarter 
rate, and from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. double time. 
Men required to work more than four miles 
from the shop are often paid Id. per hour 
extra as "lodging money," with fares in 
addition. Hours of shop work are usually 
54 per week. 

In Scotland, apprentices usually serve five 
years if they begin younger than 17 years old, 



and for four years if older than 17. No appren- 
tices taken after the age of 25 years. Usually, 
wages begin at 5s. or 6s. a week, and rise to 12s. 
or 15s. Hours worked are nine per day in 
summer, and eight in winter. Wages vary from 
7d. to lid. per hour, according to district. Men 
supply their own tools. Overtime is usually at 
one and a quarter rate, and sometimes at one 
and a half rate, irrespective of its duration. 

In some places Aberdeen, for instance there 
is a large monumental trade. Conditions of 
apprenticeship are similar to those in the building 
trade already given. Hours worked nine per 
weekday, except Saturday are the same in 
summer and winter. Wages are less than those 
of masons, the respective rates in Aberdeen 
being 8d. and 7d. per hour, but the employers 
supply and uphold tools. 

Settmakers have no uniform conditions of 
work. Apprenticeship is general four years 
but there is no regular rate of wages, which 
depend upon the age and skill of the youth. 
Workmen are paid by piece, and earn good 
wages, anything from 40s. to 80s. per week. No 
regular hours of working. 

In Ireland, the Stonecutters' Union insists that 
apprentice stonecutters must be the sons of stone- 
cutters, except in unusual circumstances. Usual 
apprenticeship lasts seven years, but there are no 
indentures, and it is common for a lad with three 
or four years' experience to demand journeyman's 
wages and, in the event of refusal, to seek 
another situation. Standard wages of provincial 
workmen are 30s. for 57 hours 'work in summer, 
and 30s. per week in winter from dawn to dusk. 
In the cities and large towns wages are higher 
Dublin, 36s. for 54 hours (8d. per hour) ; Cork, 
34s. 6d., Limerick, 33s. Overtime is discouraged 
by the men, but is paid one and a half rate till 
midnight, and double rate from midnight till 
6 a.m. In Belfast, where the men are not 
attached to the Stonecutters' Union of Ireland, 
the wages are 8|d. per week of 51 hours, and 
apprentices are permitted at the rate of 1 to 10 
employees. 

Marble and Slate Masons. The 
number of apprentices is restricted. Three arc 
usually considered sufficient for a shop of, say, 
forty men. Apprenticeship lasts five years ; 
wages begin at 5s. per week and rise by 2s. per 
week annually. Some of the best London shops 
require a 20 premium from apprentices. Many 
workmen urge the need for a longer apprentice- 
ship, as it is held that five years is too brief to 
turn out competent men, and journeymen who 
have just finished a five years' apprenticeship 
frequently accept 3d. an hour under workmen's 
standard wage. Present wage in London is lO^d. 
per hour for 48^ hours per week, with one and a 
quarter rate for overtime up to two hours, one 
and a half rate beyond two hours till 10 p.m., 
and double rate for night work. 

Bricklayers. System of apprenticeship 
is becoming most strict and more generally 
recognised. Time usually served is seven years, 
although five and six years are not unknown. 
Apprentice wages differ. Average is probably 5s. 
per week for the first year, with an annual increase 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

of 2s. 6d. per week. Wages and hours of labour 
differ in different districts. The following are 
the conditions in representative towns : 

Hours of Work 

per week. 

Summsr. Winter. 
54^ 
54 



Manchester 
Birmingham 
Leeds 

London . . 
Sheffield .. 
Liverpool 
Londonderry 
Newcastle-on- 

Tyne . . 

Overtime is 



50 
50 
49 



50 



47 
45 
45 



Current Wages 

in pence 

per hour. 

10 



44 

47 
daylight 



44 9| 

generally paid at one and a 
quarter rate for first three hours, and one and a 
half rate beyond that time and on Saturday 
afternoon, while Sunday work is paid at double 
ordinary rate. Winter work is hard, and in 
time of frost ceases altogether. During severe 
winters workmen may be idle for as long as 
12 weeks. 

Slaters and Tilers. Apprentices must 
be legally bound at or before attaining 16 years, 
and must serve until the age of 21. There is 
one apprentice to every three workmen, the 
maximum number permitted by the workmen's 
society. Average apprenticeship wages are 
8s., 9s., 10s., 12s. and 14s. per week for the 
five years. Apprenticeship is all but universal. 
Standard wages differ widely in different districts, 
and the society aims at securing in each district 
uniformity of conditions and wages. Average 
wage is probably 9d. per hour, the highest rate 
being lOd. per hour. The lOd. rate prevails in 
London and in the North of England. The 
lowest rate is found in Lincoln and Lowestoft, 
with only 6^d. per hour. In Dublin and Belfast 
the 9d. rate is paid. In Scotland slightly lower 
wages prevail and about 8|d. per hour is the 
average. The hours of labour vary in different 
districts. They are fewest in the North of 
England namely, 50 hours per week during 40 
weeks in the year ; 42 hours per week for three 
weeks before and three weeks after Christmas ; 
and 44^ hours for three weeks before and three 
weeks after the 42-hour weeks. In other districts 
the hours are longer and reach the maximum of 
ten hours per day in the London district. In all 
cases hours are shorter in winter. No extra rate 
is paid for overtime in England, except in excep- 
tional cases, as for instance, when the roof of a 
spinning mill has to be repaired during the night, 
on Saturday afternoons, or on Sundays or holi- 
days, while the machinery is silent. 

In Scotland the conditions are similar to 
those in England. Apprenticeship is general, 
starting at 8s. per week and rising to 15s. 
Hours, 45 in depth of winter to 51 per week in 
summer. Journeyman's wages 8d. to 9d. per 
hour. Overtime 25 per cent, above usual rates 
from 5 to 9 p.m., 50 per cent, higher after 9 p.m., 
and double on Sundays. 

Carpenters and Joiners. Machinery 
and the growth of departmentalism have 
wrought great changes in the trade. Formerly, 
five years' apprenticeship and often a heavy 

2643 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

premium were required from lads entering the 
trade. Present conditions differ widely in 
different districts, but the following may be 
considered representative of the average. A 
boy works for three or four years, beginning at 
from 3s. a week to Id. per hour, and rising 
annually by |d. per hour. As an improver he 
may receive 5d. or 6d. per hour. Large shops, 
where departmentalism prevails, do not give so 
good a training as smaller shops. Apprentice- 
ship, where it is still the rule, lasts five to six years. 
Hours, 48 to 60 per week. Wages, 10d. per 
hour in London, varying in country districts to 
22s. per week in outlying parts. Overtime, 
usually 25 per cent, higher for first two hours ; 

50 per cent, higher for next two hours, and 
double for all night and Sunday work. In some 
districts no extra rate is paid. 

Painters. Conditions vary considerably. 
Apprenticeship, often six years, beginning 3s. to 
5s., and rising from 12s. to 16s. In London 
apprenticeship is almost extinct, and where it 
still prevails it seldom lasts longer than one year. 
Workmen's wages are from 5|d. an hour in out- 
lying districts to 9d. and lOd. an hour in cities 
where the trade is organised. Hours worked 
vary from 51 to 56 per week. Overtime wage 
rate usually time and a quarter or time and a half, 
but in London it is unusual to pay any higher 
rate for overtime. Ship painters work 54 hours. 
The position of a working painter is not par- 
ticularly desirable. Three-quarters of the total 
number have no employment for more than 
nine or ten months in the year. 

Plumbers. Apprenticeship was formerly 
for seven years but now five years is common. 
Premiums of from 5 to 50 sometimes demanded 
by good firms. Wages begin at 2s. 6d. to 5s. per 
week and rise to from 15s. to 20s. during the 
last year. Wages for workmen vary from 6d. 
per hour in some country districts to lid. per 
hour in London. The London hours are 47 per 
week, but in the provinces they are sometimes 
as many as 56. Overtime is paid at one and 
a quarter rates, and when prolonged at one and a 
half and double rates. 

Gasfitters. The conditions generally are 
the same as those for plumbers. Gasfitters' 
work is inside to a greater extent than plumbers' 
work, hence time is not lost by the short day 
during the winter months as it is in the plumbing 
trade. 

Plasterers. Apprenticeship, five years, at 
5s. per week, rising 2s. each year. Usual rule 
is one apprentice to two workmen. Workmen, 

51 hours per week at 7d. to 9d. per hour. 
Varies in different districts. Overtime, time and 
a half. 

Glaziers. Apprenticeship not uniform, but 
usual term is five years. Indentured apprentices 
usually begin at 6s. a week, advancing 2s. per 
week annually. Unindentured apprentices often 
earn more than indentured apprentices when 
they have been some time at the trade. Work- 
men's hours and wages are not uniform, but the 
average is about 8|d. an hour in larger towns for 
a 51 -hours' week. Overtime is paid at one and a 
quarter rates. 

2644 



METAL AND SHIPBUILDING 
TRADES 

Steel Smelting. On account of the 
nature of the work, boys cannot be employed 
in steel smelting, and there are no apprentices. 
New hands are described as helpers, and work- 
men are graded into first, second, and third 
hands. A man must work for 12 months as 
third hand before promotion to second hand, 
and two years as second hand before rising to 
the dignity of first hand. Workmen are gener- 
ally paid per ton of metal produced. This 
differs so, that no generally applicable wage rate 
can be stated. In some districts where speci- 
alities are worked, day wages are paid, ranging 
from 10s. 6d. to 20s. par day for first hand, 
from 7s. 6d. to 15s. per day for second hand, 
and from 5s. 9d. to 10s. per day for third hand. 
Where men are paid on tonnage, nothing extra 
is paid for overtime. On day wages, men who 
work after noon on Saturday are paid time and 
half, and on Sunday from one and a quarter to 
double rates. Overtime is exceptional. The 
high wages are quite justified by the great 
physical exertion necessary and by the wear and 
tear of clothing. The work is continuous, and 
is carried on by 12-hour shifts. 

Rolling Mill Workers. There is no 
apprenticeship here. There are several posi- 
tions which boys can fill, and they are 
promoted from one to another as they gain 
experience and show ability. Aptitude in 
technical knowledge secures promotion. Gener- 
ally spsaking, the rules that apply to steel 
smelting' prevail in the rolling mills. Work 
ceases at 2 p.m. on Saturday and overtime is 
worked only in emergencies. 

Tinplate Mill Workers. The informa- 
tion given under Rolling Mill Workers applies 
also to tinplate mill workers, except that eight- 
hour and not 12-hour shifts are the rule. 

Chainmakers. Youths who enter the 
chainmaking trade are usually the sons of 
workers. No apprenticeship system proper ; 
boys begin by blowing the bellows in outshops, 
then go on to form the links, rising to the manu- 
facture of cheap untested chains, and finally 
becoming skilled workmen. All work is by 
piece, and the workmen may earn anything 
between 20s. and 40s. per week. Hours are 
irregular, but no work is done after 5.30 p.m. in 
factories. Cradley Heath is the centre of the 
chainmaking industry. Modern practice tends 
to introduce machine-forged chains, and the 
hand forger will find smaller scope for his skill. 

Anchorsmiths. This trade is similar in 
its conditions to that of chainmakers, and finds 
its centre in the same locality. 

Wire and Tube Drawers. No recog- 
nised apprenticeship. Boys begin at from 14 to 
18 years old, and are paid according to merit. 
Workmen earn 24s. to 50s. per week, according 
to class of work, and their working week has 
54 hours. 

Shipbuilding. Apprenticeship usual, and 
must begin between the ages of 16 and 19. 
Boys entering before 18 serve five years ; after 
18, until they are 23 years old. Apprentices are 



selected from the ranks of the boys taken on as 
" platers' markers " and " rivet boys." The 
minimum rates of pay for apprentice smiths, 
platers, and caulkers, are 6s., 7s., 8s., 10s., and 
12s. per week during the respective five years. 
Apprentice riveters earn 7s., 8s., 10s., 12s., and 
14s. per week. The standard wages of workmen 
differ throughout the kingdom. Day wages for 
smiths and platers range from 36s. to 45s. per 
week, for riveters and caulkers from 32s. to 38s. 
per week, and holders-up from 26s. to 32s. per 
week. The majority of the work, however, is on 
piece wages, which amount to from 50 to 100 
per cent, above the figures given. Repair work 
is paid at 6d. to Is. per day in excess of the rates 
for new work. 

Barge Builders. Apprenticeship of seven 
years enforced. Usual wages of 6s., rising to 
13s. per week. The union rate of wages for barge 
building on the Thames is lOd. per hour, and 
ll|d. per hour for overtime. Hours of work, 
54 per week. 

Boiler Making. The conditions are 
similar to those given under Shipbuilders, but 
apprenticeship is usually seven years, and the 
standard wages for piecework boilermakers are 
generally 25 to 50 per cent, higher than day wages. 

Blacksmiths. In the North of England 
unindentured apprenticeship of five or six years is 
usual. Boys usually start in the smith's shop as 
hammer drivers at the age of 14 years, and after 
12 to 18 months' experience, they usually begin 
to act as strikers. After 12 months In the latter 
capacity they are promoted to a fire, and work as 
apprentice smiths up to 21 years of age. 

The wage when they begin work as hammer 
drivers is usually 5s. per week, and they are 
advanced by easy stages of Is., Is. 6d., and 2s. 
p3r week par annum until in their last year of 
apprenticeship they are receiving 15s. or 17s. 
per week. Tiie standard rate of wages for black- 
smiths is from 34s. to 38s. per week, according 
to the district in which they are employed. 

Hours of labour also vary ; in some firms they 
work 48 hours, other firms 50, other firms 53, and 
others 54 hours per week. 

Blacksmiths usually work piecework, and earn " 
a bonus over their weekly wage, varying from 
25 to 33 per cent. There is usually an allowance 
paid for overtime ; this again varies according 
' to various districts, but, as an example, in the 
Manchester district they are paid 25 per cent, 
over the ordinary wage for the first two hours, 
50 per cent, over for the next two hours, and 
100 per cent, for all time worked after that. 
These rates apply also for Saturday afternoons. 
For Sundays, Christmas Days and Good Fridays 
they are paid 100 per cent, over the ordinary 
rate. In other districts overtime is paid for at 
the rate of 25 per cent, over the ordinary rate 
for the first two hours, and 50 per cent, 
afterwards. 

Smiths in the coach and wheelwright trades 
work longer than in other branches, usually 56 
hours, and earn less, with no higher rate for 
overtime. 

In London boys begin as strikers at the age 
of 14 or 15, earning 10s. a week, and rising to 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

29s. 3d. at the age of 20. The best strikers are 
promoted to be smiths between 20 and 30 years 
of age, and after working as such for varying 
periods (one to four years) at less than standard 
wages, rise to the full remuneration, usually 
40s, for 54 hours work. The craft of the smith 
is declining in London and increasing in the 
provinces. 

Farriers. In the provinces apprentice- 
ship is common ; but in London it is almost 
unknown and the ranks of the trade are 
recruited from the provincial inflow. Hours 
vary from 52 to 61 per week, and though there 
is not much overtime during the week, a certain 
amount of Sunday work is often performed. 
In London the wages of doormen are from 
25s. to 34s. per week, averaging 31s., and of 
firemen 33s. to 42s., averaging 37s. In the 
provinces the wages may be much lower, 
sometimes 20 per cent, less than the figures 
mentioned, the lowest rates ruling in the 
smallest towns and villages. Tfie work is 
exhausting, and especially when the hours 
are irregular, as they frequently are, they tell 
upon the individual. 

Ironfounders. Apart from the iron- 
moulders in engineering shops, there seems 
to be no general system of apprenticeship in 
ironfounders. Lads 15 or 16 years old 
begin work at about 5s. a week and learn the 
trade as they can, receiving higher wages as 
they are able to do better work. The recog- 
nised proportion is one boy to three men, but 
the proportion of boys is usually less than this. 
The wages of moulders in London are 38s. 
and sometimes 40s. per week ; but in large 
provincial centres this is reduced to 32s. and 
34s. .Pattern-makers earn 40s. per week, but in 
non-union shops sometimes only 36s. or 38s. 
Overtime, of which there is a good deal, is 
paid for at one and a quarter rate, rising to 
double rate when of excessive duration. 

Typefounders. Apprentices almost un- 
known. Beginners must be at least 18 years <)f 
age, and usually work for five years, earning 18s. 
during the first year, and rising to 36s. Hours of 
work are 54 per week. Payment for both day 
and piece work is by complicated rules, of which 
the following is a sample : Casting (two 
machines), 1 16s. ; casting (one machine), 
1 13s. 9d. ; dressing, 1 16s. ; rubbing, 
1 9s. 6d. ; kerning, 1 13s. ; warehousemen, 
1 16s. ; mould-makers, 2 5s. ; justifiers, 
2 ; metal making, 1 14s. ; lead casting, 
1 13 ; porters, 1 7s. ; furniture and quotations, 
1 13 ; mould setters, 1 18s. ; sanspareil 
casting, 1 13s. Overtime seldom required. Pay- 
ment, one and a quarter rates for first two hours, 
one and a half rates for second two hours, after 
which, and also on Sundays and Bank Holidays, 
double rates are paid. 

Core Makers. Apprenticeship usually five 
to seven years, beginning at 4s. per week, and 
rising to 14s. or 16s. during the last year. Wages 
are usually 32s. to 38s. for workmen in organised 
districts, but less where the men are not united. 
The hours of work are 53 per week. Sometimes 
no extra rate is paid for overtime, which may, 

2045 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

in other places, be remunerated at one and a 
quarter or one and a half rates. 

Stove Makers. In the Rotherham dis- 
trict the apprenticeship system is becoming 
less common. Where it exists, seven years is the 
rule, from 14 to 21 years of age. Wages begin 
at 4s., rising to 11s. per week. Sometimes, at 
17 years old, the youth is put on piecework, 
and paid 70 per cent, of usual workman's 
rates. Standard wages in the different de- 
partments vary, and range from 30s. to 40s. 
per week. Overtime is sometimes at one 
and a quarter and sometimes at one and a 
half rate. 

Bedstead Makers. Apprenticeship un- 
common. Boys enter the works at about 
15, at an average wage of 8s. per week, rising 
by successive increases to 15s. at the age of 
18. From 18 to 21 the youth usually receives 
a bonus of 15 per cent, on salary in addition to 
annual increases. At 21 he earns 23s., plus the 
bonus. The minimum rate for day labour is 
Cd. per hour, plus a 15 per cent, bonus, and a 
maximum lOd. per hour with a bonus. The 
worker on the piece system may earn anything 
between 35s. and 80s. per week, plus a similar 
bonus. The greater part of the trade is in 
piecework. The hours worked vary from 52 
to 54 per week. 

Tank Makers. Machinery has changed 
the conditions of this trade, and fewer men are 
entering it. There is no apprenticeship. For- 
merly, workmen riveters could earn 50s. to 
80s. per week, and " holders-up " two-thirds of 
that amount, but such men are now few, as the 
machine has taken their place, and remuneration 
is now on a scale a little above that of an intelli- 
gent labourer. 

Engineers General and Textile. 
A 

15s. per week during the seven years. Rates 
vary very much with the demand for labour in 
the districts ; sometimes as low as 2s. 6d. is paid 
during first year. Then for two and a half 
years the ex-apprentice may be an improver, 
beginning at 24s. a week and receiving an in- 
crease of 2s. per week every six months until 
he attains the workman's standard wage 
which is as follows, for the various classes in 
the Midlands : 



MUC ,uwaa - wucrai ana i exine. 

Apprenticeship usual from about 14 to 21 years 
)fage; earnings 5s., 6s., 7s., 9s., 11s., 13s., and 



Textile Fitters and Turners 

T o1 

Grinders (light work) ' 
,, (heavy work) 
Smiths 
Moulders 
Pattern Makers 



34s. per week 
36s. 
36s. 
38a 

. . 36s. 
32s. and 34s. 
.. 40s. 
In other districts the rates may vary si ghtly 

Pieceworkers, who are common, earn from'20 
to 25 per cent, above these rates. Hours are 53 
per week. Overtime among men covered by the 
Amalgamated Society of Engineers is paid one 
and a quarter rate for first two hours, one and a 
half rate for second two hours, and double time 
thereafter Machine and plate moulders, planers, 
millers, drillers, and labourers receive no higher 
rate for overtime. 

2646 



Engineers' Tool ' Makers. Indentured 
apprenticeship quite dead. Boys begin at about 
14, and receive 6s. to 10s. a week, according 
to age and ability, rising to 14s. to 18s. at 21 
years of age. Day wages of workmen, 28s. to 
42s. per week of 54 hours. Piecework prevails, 
and higher wages are thereby earned. Overtime 
follows the practice of engineers. 

Edge Tool Makers. Edge tool and hoe 
makers require assistant strikers who develop 
into skilled workmen. Lads begin heating at 
about 15 years of age, and when about 19, are 
usually made strikers. After some years about 
the age of 25 or 26 the striker gets a fire' and 
develops into a skilled workman. Strikers earn 
26s. or 28s. a week, and workmen 40s. to 45s., 
all on piecework. - Day wages for odd work are 
66s. a week in Birmingham for workman and 
striker together. Hours are 50 per week, and 
nothing extra is paid for overtime. 

File Makers. No apprenticeship proper. 
A boy begins heating at about 14 years, receiving 
6s. per week, with an advance of Is. per week 
per annum until 17 years old, when he will 
probably receive 16s. per week, and a further 
2s. advance each year until he attains 21 years, 
when he ought to be able to earn a qualified 
workman's- wage of 40s. to 50s. Usual hours 
are 54 par week. 

Plane Makers. An apprenticeship of 
seven years is usual in England and of five years 
in Scotland. The youth serves half this period 
under a journeyman, beginning at 5s. per week, 
and rising by Is. per annum. During the 
second half he is put on piecework and receives 
two-thirds of the ordinary workman's wages. 
Plane makers are paid entirely by piece, and a 
fair artisan averages 34s. for week of 54 hours. 
Overtime is seldom required, and is paid as 
ordinary work. 

Razor Forgers. All workers are on piece- 
work, and a boy entering the trade becomes 
engaged to the workman and not to the employer. 
No boy is admitted to the trade except the son 
or the stepson of a worker, and he must be not 
less than 14 years of age. There is no recognised 
rule as to paying apprentices, as, under the rul^g 
enforced by the trade union, the whole apprentice- 
ship system is practically boys helping their 
fathers. Workmen earn good wages. A man of 
fair ability has no difficulty in making 50s. a 
week. 

Gun Makers. Apprenticeship much less 
common than formerly, but where it prevails, 
seven years is the usual time, and 7s. the com- 
mencing wage, rising to 14s. For workmen, 
the day wage is usually Is. per hour, but where 
piecework is the rule, more money, varying 
in accordance with the ability of the workman, 
may be earned. There are no uniform hours 
of work throughout the several departments. 

Lock Makers. Apprenticeship used to be 
general, but it is now obsolete. All locks are 
now made by piecework, and an expert and 
expeditious worker may earn twice as much as a 
clumsy fellow at his elbow. Some men earn 
not more than 20s. a week, while more skilled 
comrades will pocket 40s. a week or more 



working at the same terms on identical work. The 
average wage is about 30s. a week. Preparing 
parts of locks is often done by day workers 
at 6d. per hour plus 20 per cent. The pre- 
paration of parts for common locks is done by 
youths and girls at about 8s. per week of 54 
hours. 

Safe Makers. Boys usually begin at 
about 15 or 16 years old, earning about 8s. a 
week in London or 5s. a week in the provinces, 
and serve until 21 years old, being put on piece- 
work during the last two years. Nominal hours 
are 54 per week, but the men seldom work 
their full hours. All work is paid by piece, 
and the result is 33s. to 45s. a week with an 
average of about 36s. 

Mathematical and Optical Instru= 
ment Makers. It is estimated that not more 
than 10 per cent, of the workmen in this trade 
have served a regular apprenticeship to it. Ap- 
prentices serve seven years, beginning at 6s. per 
week, and rising 2s. yearly. Standard wages in 
the London district are 8|d. per hour, but on 
piecework which is rather common 9|d. to 
Is. per hour may be made, with even an addi- 
tional bonus when the work is finished. The 
hours of labour vary from 48 to 56 per week, 
according to the different shops. Sometimes 
ordinary rates are paid for overtime, and some- 
times one and a quarter rates. 

Jewellers. London is the seat of the 
better-class jewellery trade and the workmen 
engaged are largely foreign. Apprenticeship 
exists but is not general. Departmentalism is 
seriously affecting the quality of the workmen 
turned out, and the demand for foreign skilled 
labour shows no sign of decrease. Apprentice- 
ship, where it prevails, is for seven years. 
Ordinary work is paid for at the rate of 7d. 
to Is. per hour, and Is. to Is. 6d. for best work. 
Workmen who have special skill in modelling 
and designing may make up to as much as 
10 a week. Such men are chiefly Frenchmen. 
Piecework prevails as well as time-work and 
its remuneration is slightly higher. 

Gold beating is a poorly remunerated and a 
dying craft, owing to foreign competition. 
Wages average only 20s. to 30s. per week. 
There are no youths entering the trade. 

Gold and silver wire drawing is done chiefly 
by women, who earn up to 13s. per week. 
There has been much short time lately on 
account of slackness. Girls learn the trade 
in about a year after having been taken on as 
message girls. 

Watchmakers. The English watch 
trade has gone and no youths are entering it. 
Most of the workmen now in it are old men 
who learned the craft in its flourishing days. 
Wages are by piecework and 40s. to 60s. is 
the rule for men of skill, but this is little more 
than half what was formerly a common 
remuneration. 

Clockmaking. The trade of the clock- 
maker is not in such parlous state as that 
of the watchmaker. Boys entering the trade 
are not now taught it properly, as attention 
to an automatic machine has taken the place 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

of skilled knowledge of horology. Wages 
are usually 8d. to 9d. per hour for 54 hours' 
work, and machine minders may earn more 
according to the work put out, so that Is. 
per hour is not uncommon. 

Britannia Metal Workers. Appren- 
ticeship general, and obligatory. Boys usually 
begin at 14 years, earning 4s. per week, and serve 
seven years, rising to 10s. per week. During 
apprenticeship, and when the boy has become to 
some extent master of his craft, he is paid a per- 
centage of piecework rates in addition to his 
salary, the percentage varying from 2d. to 6d. in 
different workshops. Workmen are usually on 
piecework rates, and earn from 30s. to 40s., 
according to ability. Day wage employees 
receive 6d. to 8d. per hour. No extra rate is 
paid for overtime. The working week is 54 
hours. These conditions apply both to the 
spinning and the making up of articles in 
Britannia metal. 

Ironplate Workers. In the Stafford- 
shire district, which is the centre of this trade, 
departmentalism is ousting the skilled worker 
in favour of the die press, and the operator 
is practically only a superior labourer. 
Apprenticeship is fast dying, and wages have 
gone down. The payment of workmen is largely 
by piece rates, which vary in different towns, 
and nothing extra is paid for overtime. Attempts 
are being made to standardise wages for the 
Midlands, but success is extremely doubtful. 
Work is for 56 hours per week. 

In Scotland, apprenticeship in the sheet- 
metal working trade lasts six years, and there 
are no general restrictions regarding the number 
of apprentices. Wages 5s. per week, rising to 
from 12s. to 14s. Working hours are 51 per 
week. Adult wages are 8d. per hour, and over- 
time is paid at one and a half rates. 

In the Glasgow district the rules of the Sheet 
Iron Workers, Light Platers, and Ship Range 
Society permit one apprentice to every five 
journeymen. Sometimes this rate is slightly 
exceeded. Apprentices serve five years, begin- 
ning at about 6s. per week, and rising annually 
by 2s. per week. They are frequently put on 
piecework during apprenticeship, and earn far 
more. Workmen's wages vary in different districts, 
but the average is probably 9d. per hour. Hours 
of work are 54 per week, with one and a half rate 
for overtime and double time for Sunday work. 

Tinplate Workers. In the Wolver- 
hampton district, which is the centre of this 
trade, boys serve a seven years' apprenticeship, 
from the ages of 14 to 21, beginning at 4s. per 
week, and receiving annual increases of Is. per 
week until they are 17 years old, when they are 
put on piecework, and earn two- thirds of or- 
dinary workmen's piecework rates. One boy 
is usually allowed for every five men. Certain 
branches of the trade, such as the making of 
cycle gear-cases, motor accessories, and gas- 
meters, are paid 8|d. per hour for 54 hours a 
week, with one and a quarter rate for overtime. 
Other work, including dairy work, making lamps 
and lanterns, and brass, copper, tin, zinc, and 
iron hollow-ware, ventilators, and Government 

2647 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

contract work are upon a piece scale, and rates 
differ very much, but are usually slightly higher 
than the time wages mentioned, and the working 
week is only 50 hours. 

In the Aberdeen district, where there are a fair 
number of tinplate workers associated with the 
canning industry, five years' apprenticeship is en- 
forced. Wages begin at 4s., rising to 9s. or 10s. 
per week. No standard wage rates for workmen, 
earnings varying from 20s. to 25s., according to 
ability. Overtime is paid one and a quarter 

Brass and Copper Workers. In the North 
of England, apprenticeship begins at the age of 
14, or, if the lad has attended a technical school, 
at 16, and terminates at 21 years of age. A 14 
years' old apprenticeship begins at 4s. and rises to 
from ICs. to 16s. A 16 years' old apprenticeship 
begins at 4s., but in three months rises to the scale 
of an ordinary apprentice of the same age. Brass 
moulders receive 40s. per week of 53 hours, brass 
finishers receive 36s. Overtime from 5 p.m. to 
7 p.m. is paid atone and a quarter rate, and after 
7 p.m. one and a half rate. Lads receive 26s. per 
week on completion of apprenticeship, but rise 
to the recognised standard wage 12 months later. 

In London there are no indentured appren- 
tices. Boys enter the shop and are put to 
the lathe and vice, earning 2s. 3d. per work- 
ing day of nine hours, rising to 6d. per hour. 
In piecework shops, " improvers " i.e., boys 
who have been a few years at the trade, are paid 
two-fifths, half, or three-fifths adult rates. 
Artisans' wages range from 8d. per hour upwards, 
the greater number receiving 8^d. Overtime is 
paid at one and a quarter rates for first two 
hours, one and half rates after, and double rates 
for all-night work and Sundays. The working 
week has 54 hours. 

In Scotland apprentices in general shops serve 
seven years, and in engineering and shipbuilding 
shops six years. Wages begin at 3s. per week, 
and rise Is. per week each year. Usual rule is one 
apprentice to five or six journeymen. Standard 
minimum wages for workmen are : Moulders and 
coppersmiths, 7^d. per hour ; brass finishers, 7d. 
psr hour. First year journeymen, ^d. per hour 
below standard minimum. In general shops 51 
hours per week, with one and a half rate for over- 
time ; in engineering shops, 54 hours per week, 
with one and a quarter rate for overtime. 

Zinc Workers. Irregular apprenticeship 
common from 15 or 16 till 21 years old, 
wages usually beginning about 5s. and advanc- 
ing according to capacity. Work is done both 
by time and by piece, shop work usually by 
the latter and outside work by the former. 
Common wages in London are 5s. 6d. to 6s. 6d. 
a day, working out at 36s. to 40s. per week. 
Provincial rates are about 5s. a week less. 

Lead Workers. Makers of lead pipes 
and sheets, lead shot and capsules have no 
apprenticeship. Workmen of extra skill may 
earn as much as 35s. a week ; but the average 
rate is 24s. to 28s., although some make not 
more than 20s. Girls are employed in making 
and decorating lead bottle capsules, earning 
7s. to 12s. a week, or, if forewomen, 16s. 

2648 



HIDE AND LEATHER TRADES 

Skinners. The conditions generally are 
much as in London, where apprentices must serve 
five to seven years or be the eldest son of a 
workman. Usual duration is now five years. 
Apprentices are on piecework at same rates 
as the men less 10 per cent., which the em- 
ployer retains. In all the departments fleshing, 
splitting, and puring piecework is in force, and 
the wages earned are from 25s. to 45s., from 
30s. to 50s., and from 40s. to 70s. respectively. 

Fur Skin Dressers and Dyers. 

Formerly an apprenticeship of five years was 
common, and lads were taught all the depart- 
ments of unhairing, shaving, fleshing, etc. Now, 
for unhairing, lads are usually taken on at the 
age of 18 and upwards, and learn the trade as best 
they can in from three to six months, beginning 
at 20s., rising soon to 25s., and finally 30s. per 
week. No apprentices have been taken on for 
the last 10 or 12 years on account of the dearth 
of skins, which has caused the industry to decline. 
For entering as shavers and fleshers the con- 
ditions are similar, except that the apprentice- 
ship is longer. Work is by piece in all depart- 
ments, and an expert man may earn twice as 
much as his less skilled fellow. Dayworkers 
are employed in the dressing and dyeing depart- 
ments, and earn from 20s. to 30s. per week. 
Foremen of the various branches average about 
10s. a week more. Hours are 10 per day, except 
Saturdays, when six hours are worked. Over- 
time is paid for at 6d. per hour. 

Women are employed to do light work and 
sewing, and earn from 10s. to 16s. per week, 
working nine hours per day. 

Leather Shavers, Apprenticeship un- 
common, but five years is the usual time where it 
prevails. Nearly all work is piecework, and work- 
men earn from 28s. to 40s. a week according to 
ability. 

Leather Tanners. The trade is very 
much divided up, nearly each process being one 
which requires skilled labour, and therefore 
apprenticeship is pretty general. There are 
many divisions, and the three largest are 
the " tanners " or " fleshers," " curriers," and 
" finishers." All these are paid by the " piece," 
and earnings depend on the skill and capability 
of the man. Apprentices are usually bound at 
14 or 15 years old, and serve till 21. In some 
cases they are bound to work on timework for 
so much per hour, a small rate at first, increasing 
as the boy grows older and more skilful. In 
other cases the apprentice is bound to a journey- 
man to teach him the trade, and is paid by the 
man a percentage on the work he does. The 
average working day is nine hours. 

A tanner or flesher earns from 30s. to 40s. 
per week, a currier from 30s. to 50s., and a 
finisher about the same. There are so many 
different classes of work that it is extremely 
difficult to say accurately what is the average 
earning. We have known finishers to earn up 
to 80s. per week, but this is exceptional. Appren- 
tices are usually the sons of men employed in 
the trade, but this is not a condition. 



Furriers. Apprenticeship is net very 
common. Usually a boy of 15 or 16 is taken 
to learn the trade, and is paid 10s. per week, 
rising gradually for three or four years. At 
the end of this time he is considered an im- 
prover, and does general work of a not very 
responsible character. Then he learns nailing 
and cutting. 

A cutter earns from 2 to 3 15s. per week, 
or even more, and 50 per cent, more for over- 
time. 

The hours are 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. from Christmas 
to Easter ; and from Easter to Christmas, 
8.30 a.m. to 7 p.m. Saturdays until 1 or 1.30 
p.m. There are chances of a .smart man 
becoming a sorter and buyer of goods and 
blossoming into a fur merchant. 

Saddlery and Harness Makers. There 
are very few apprentices in London, although 
premium apprenticeship is not unknown. The 
rule is five or six years, beginning sometimes as 
low as 3s. a week and sometimes as high as 8s., 
and in second and subsequent years the wages 
are 10s., 12s., 15s., 18s., and 21s. Workmen earn 
a minimum day wage of 33s. per week, but the 
best work is paid for by piece calculated to give 
lOd. per hour. Hours are 52^ per week, and 
there is practically no overtime. In the pro- 
vinces the conditions are similar, but the wages 
are usually less. 

Portmanteau Makers. In good shops 
portmanteau makers are bonus apprentices 
from 14 to 21 years of age, receiving 5s. a week 
during the first year and an annual increase of 
Is. per week for six years. During the last 
year the apprentice is put on piecework and paid 
at half the rates of workmen. All work is by 
piece, therefore there is no uniformity in earnings, 
but the average for a good man is 38s. per week 
of 52 hours. For overtime the workman is 
paid d. per hour in addition to ordinary piece- 
work rates. Good men are always in demand, 
and need not fear being out of employment, 
hence the trade is one of the most attractive 
from the labour point of view. 

Boot and Shoe Operatives. Apprentices 
unusual ; sometimes for two, three, or four years. 
The minimum weekly wage for workmen over 
20 years of age is regulated by each centre 
of the trade for its own district. The rates at 
present in force in the Leicester district are as 
follows : Minimum wage for clickers, lasters, 
and finishers, 29s. per week, and for pressmen 
who are rough-stuff cutters, 26s. per week. 
Probably about 25 per cent, of the operatives 
are on the minimum wage, the remainder 
earning considerably more, up to 50s. or over 
per week. Many men are engaged upon piece- 
work payment, rates for which are fixed by the 
Board of Conciliation and Arbitration. Over- 
time is paid for at the rate of time and quarter 
for day workers, and at a 25 per cent, increase 
for piece-workers. In some other districts there 
is no recognised higher overtime wage rate. 
Overtime is not common, however, except for a 
few weeks before and after stated holidays. 

In Scotland, apprenticeship is not now general 
except in the clicking department, where the 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

lads serve five years, beginning at 5s. or 6s. 
a week and rising to from 18s. to 21s. per week. 
Adult operators have a minimum wage of 29s. 
per week of 54 hours, with time and quarter 
for overtime. 

In Ireland apprenticeship is practically extinct. 
A steady workman can make 35s. a week without 
much difficulty; but few of them do so, the 
majority contenting themselves with the 25s. 
or 26s. a week which loose attention to the 
regulation hours of work enables them to earn. 

Clog Makers. The apprenticeship system 
is general ; one apprentice to three workmen. 
Lads serve seven years, or until 21 years of age. 
Their wages are low during the whole term 
starting with about 5s. per week, and finishing 
with about 13s. per week. 

Adult operatives work about 58 or 60 hours 
per week, starting work at 8.30 or 9 a.m., but 
there is no rule regulating the hours. They 
come and go as they please, and as all work is 
paid for by the piece, there is no extra overtime 
payment. 

Sole makers can earn over 40s. per week, and 
seatsmen from 27s. to 32s. per week. Wages 
are always tending upwards, and there has not 
been one instance of reduction in the last 60 
years. 

TEXTILE OPERATIVES 

Cotton Spinners and Weavers. 

There is no system of apprenticeship in the 
cotton trade. For most departments, the 
operatives need training from early youth as 
the necessary deftness of the fingers and delicacy 
of touch can be acquired only during that period. 
As a rule, they are taken straight from school 
and employed as " learners." This period lasts 
only a few weeks, and at present is very 
short indeed, owing to the scarcity of labour, 
due to the abnormal increase in the number of 
mills and weaving sheds. As a rule, no wage 
is paid during the period of " learning," but 
inducements are at present offered in the shape 
of pocket-money. 

After say, four, or at most six weeks, the 
" learner " is put on the duties performed by 
children or young persons. In spinning mills, 
these duties are, for girls, back tenting, the 
average wage for which is about 10s. per week ; 
for boys, little piecing, or " scavenging," as it js 
called in the Bolton district, the wages for 
which average about 12s. 6d. , The back tenters 
develop into tenters as soon as they show them- 
selves capable, and there are vacancies. The 
wages average about 20s. 

The little piecers, or scavengers, develop into 
" big piecers " (sometimes called side piecers), 
say at 16 or 17 years of age, with wages from 
16s. to 22s. per week, and thence into full- 
fledged minders or spinners, with wages varying 
from 30s. to 60s. per week. The average 
spinner's wage is about 40s. per week. 

Hours of work are 55| per week viz., 6 a.m. 
to 5.30 p.m., less 1 hours for meals, and 6 a.m. 
to 12 noon on Saturdays, less |- hour for meals. 
There is no recognised overtime worked in the 
cotton trade, the chief reason being that child 

2649 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

labour is so necessary to nearly all departments, 
and the hours of labour for such are fixed by the 
Factory Acts. 

The cotton trade is divided into two main 
branches " spinning" and "weaving." 

Wages in the great weaving centres differ, of 
course, from those in the spinning centres, one 
principal feature being that male and female 
adult labour at weaving is paid exactly alike. 
All weavers, whether men or women, are paid the 
same piecework rates, which are contained in a 
list which applies to all Lancashire. 

Each weaver attends to as many looms as 
his or her efficiency warrants. It varies from 
two to six looms, and the earnings range about 
6s. 6d. or 7s. per loom. In the case of a weaver 
minding six looms, a helper is needed, who is 
paid out of the weaver's earnings. 

There are, of course, several processes sub- , 
sidiary to the main branches of spinning and 
weaving, which are well defined, and for which 
special training is needed. 

Flax Spinning and Weaving. Flax 
spinners usually begin as half-timers and 
fetch and carry to the machines until they 
are big enough to attend to preparing machines 
or spinning frames. Half-timers earn from 
lOd. to Is. per day, and full timers from 6s. 6d. 
to 10s. per week. Machine boys earn from 7s. 
to 8s. 6d. per week, and hecklers (men) from 
25s. to 26s. 6d. per week. 

Chiefly women are employed in linen 
weaving, and there is no apprenticeship, the 
machinery employed being automatic and 
requiring little learning. Winders who are 
women earn from 12s. 6d. to 15s. per week, 
and weavers, also women, receive from 9s. 
to I6s. per week, according to capacity and 
output. Dressers and tenters, who are men, 
are paid 28s. per week. Dressers' apprentices 
serve three years, beginning at 10s. a week and 
rising to 14s. An apprentice tenter serves four 
years, beginning at 8s. and rising to 14s. The 
hours are usually 55^ per week. 

Wool Workers. But in the woollen trade 
itself there is a clear division into two sections 
viz., woollen and worsted. The difference, techni- 
cally, is in the manipulation of the yarn. First 
as to the worsted trade, which has its centre in 
and round about Bradford. The hours worked 
are 55 per week, and there is now no system of 
apprenticeship in either spinning or weaving. 
Children go to the mills as soon as they leave 
school the half-timer is a declining quantity 
and commence as doffers that is, removing the 
bobbins from the frames, and usually graduate 
into spinners. As doffers they get 7s. 6d. to 
9s. 6d. per week, while as spinners, minding 
two or three frames, they earn from 10s. to 1 Is. 6d. 
per week. Before the spinner, however, comes 
the rover and drawer, the pay of the former 
being about 10s. per week, and the latter about 
Is. Then there is the business of making 
warps, work for young women who earn from 
12s. to 14s. a week, and some on piece work 
even more. Weaving, of course, comes after 
these processes, and here the wages vary con- 
siderably according to the branch in which the 

2650 



young women and young men and elder persons 
are engaged. The highest wages are earned in 
the Huddersfield fancy coating trade, where 
as much as 25s. can be earned at piece rates, 
but generally the wages may be taken to run 
from 14s. to 20s. per week. 

In the woollen industry the preliminary 
processes are not exactly the same, nor are the 
conditions of employment identical. In a 
woollen spinning mill a man will take from the 
master so many mules and engage his own 
" piecers," or young persons, whose wages run 
from 10s. per week upward. The wages of 
weavers run from 13s. upwards, but here, 
owing to the heavy description of the work, 
weavers are engaged mostly on one loom, 
whereas in the worsted trade a weaver will 
mind two looms pretty generally in the Bradford 
dress trade, though on high-class work in the 
Huddersfield coating trade one loom is more 
nearly the rule. There is no apprenticeship in 
the Yorkshire woollen industry, and the hours 
of labour are the same as in the worsted trade. 

In the Welsh woollen trade young men are 
apprenticed as spinners and weavers for three 
years, and during apprenticeship earn about 
one-third the full wage of operatives. The wages 
of spinners are 21s. per week, and weavers are 
paid by the yard of output. The workmen's 
union does not permit women to work at spin- 
ning or weaving. The latter prepare the yarn 
for the looms, and earn about 10s. a week. 
Men receive no extra remuneration for overtime 
and women do not work overtime. 

Woolstaplers. Apprenticeship still in 
vogue, but becoming less common. It is usually 
seven years. Apprentices to a woolstapler begin at 
2s. 6d. to 4s., and rise to 10s. or 12s. If appren- 
ticed to a manufacturer, 4s. is paid on entering, 
and the wages rise to 20s. during the last year. 
Apprentices to a piecework firm are paid a 
similar remuneration for four years, and during 
their remaining three years are paid as men, but 
have to refund the wages paid during the four 
years. Day-work wages for men are 32s. per 
week for a nine hours' day, and piecework wool- 
staplers earn 40s. per week in a 10 hours' day. 
Little overtime is worked, as daylight is neces- 
sary, but short time is frequent during the 
summer months. 

Silk Workers. Apprenticeship prevails 
to a fair extent in the different departments 
and its conditions are as follow : 

WEAVERS. Apprenticed for about five years 
until 21. Wages, three-fourths of the rates 
paid to adults. 

PICKERS. Apprenticed for about five years. 
Wages begin at 9s., advancing Is. every six 
months until they reach 20s. 

TWISTERS. Apprenticed for two years. Wage 
about 16 per cent, less than the rate for adults. 

MECHANICS. About five years, until 21 years. 
Wages, 5s., 6s., 7s. 6d., 9s., and 11s. 6d. per week, 
during the respective years. 

The wages of men workers are as follows : 

Weavers, from about 24s. to about 40s. ; 
pickers, from about 20s. ; twisters, from about 
25s. to about 28s. ; braid makers, from about 



20s. to about 28s. ; mechanics, from about 20s. to 
about 35s. Overtime is paid at the same rates 
as ordinary time. 

The wages of women workers are about as 
follows : 

Hard silk workers, adults, 8s. to 10s. ; soft 
silk workers, adults, 9s. 6d. to 16s. ; cotton 
winders, 9s. 6d. to 16s. ; spoolers, 11s. 6d. to 20s.; 
hand loom weavers, 8s. to 14s. ; embroiderers, 
12s. to 14s. ; lace taggers, 10s. to 15s. ; braid 
workers, 10s. to 15s. ; cotton polishers, learners, 
8s., advancing to 12s. 6d. 

Some manufacturers pay by piecework, as 
far as practicable, and frequently the cotton 
workers get more than the wages named above. 
There is no overtime for women. All workers 
have 53 hours per week. 

Lace Curtain Weavers. In Scotland, 
the seats of the lace curtain trade are Darvel, 
Newmilns, Galston, Kilmarnock, Stewarton, 
and Glasgow. Each of these places has its 
own rules as to hours of work and wages, 
but nowhere does apprenticeship prevail. 
At the same time, the weavers go through a 
course of learning, starting as shuttlers, there- 
after being brass bobbin winders, and assisting 
for some time at a lace machine before being 
employed as a lace weaver. There is no special 
duration of learning, the whole depending on the 
capability and age of the learner. The hours 
of the learners depend upon their ages. Up to 
the age of 16, they can be employed only to 
6 p.m. ; up to 18, to 10 p.m. ; and after that 
they are engaged as night-time shuttlers until 
they start assisting at lace machines. In 
Newmilns, the work is carried on in three shifts 
of eight hours each, and the wages for the lace 
weavers range from 25s. to 28s. per week. In 
Darvel, weavers only work two shifts of ten hours 
each, the mills being closed during a part of the 
night, and their wages are paid by results ; but the 
average wage of a good weaver is about 27s. or 28s. 

Trimmings Weavers. Apprenticeship 
limited, as few boys enter the trade. Usual 
time is six years, beginning at 8s. and rising to 
15s. per week. Workmen earn 15s. to 25s. 
a week. Hours are 54 per week with no over- 
time. 

Tailors. Apprenticeship non-existent in 
England but usual in Scotland, Ireland, and 
Wales. In Ireland the trade suffers through 
excess of apprentices. Apprentices serve five 
years beginning at 2s. 6d. a week and rising by 
annual Is. per week increases. Average wage of 
workmen 35s. per week of 54 to 60 hours. Over- 
time not generally recognised, but where it 
exists rule is payment at one and a quarter 
ordinary rates. 

Tailors' Cutters. Apprenticeship is usual 
and there is no restriction as to number. Wages 
vaiy considerably, average being probably 5s. 
per week to begin. Apprenticeship usually lasts 
three years. Wages to competent workmen in 
London are 40s. per week of 50 hours, with lOd. 
per hour for overtime. 

Felt Hatters. Apprentices usually serve 
five years. Apprentices' wages vary, but are 
often on the piece scale, less 20 to 33 per 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

cent. Workmen are paid by the piece, earning 
from 32s. to 40s. per week, with no extra 
remuneration for overtime. The standard 
minimum wages are : Pressers and machine 
curlers, 32s. ; settlers, 33s. ; formers, hardeners, 
machine parers or setters, 35s. Finishing and 
shaping is done by piecework, with a minimum 
rate of 35s. One apprentice is allowed for every 
five journeymen employed. The hours of 
work are 56 per week. Felt hat trimming is 
done by women. No apprentices. A girl learner 
pays 10s. to 20s. to a tutor, and works for 
her for one month without wages, after which 
she becomes an ordinary worker and is paid 
piece rates. Workers earn 15s to 25s. per week 
of 56 hours. 

Silk Hatters. A seven years' indentured 
apprenticeship compulsory. Workmen are paid 
by a complicated piecework scale, and earn 40s: 
to 60s. a week. From January to June hours 
are 1 1 per day and from July to December 9 per 
day. Saturday work ceases at 1 p.m. No over- 
time allowed, and breakers of this rule are fined 
6d. for every five minutes by the workmen's 
union. 

Hosiery Weavers. There is no ap- 
prenticeship, the machinery employed being 
automatic and necessitating little to learn. 
Standard wages are gauged by a mutually 
arranged price list. Men earn from 25s. to 45s. 
per week, women from 16s. to 24s. The hours 
of work are 55^ per week. 

Umbrella Makers. No indentured 
apprenticeship, but competence is considered to 
be attained only after eight or nine years' 
experience. Standard wages for frame makers 
are 30s. per week, for cutters 33s., and for 
finishers 30s. per week. The hours are 55 per 
week and overtime is paid at one and a quarter 
rates. 

Bleachers. No branch of this industry 
would lend itself to apprenticeship. The various 
processes are in themselves of a simple character* 
and readily acquired. The custom of the trade 
is that young persons enter the works and 
gradually pass upwards from one department 
to another as they grow older. Bleaching 
starts in what is called the crofthouse, where 
the grey cloth undergoes a drastic process of 
washing and bleaching. The cloth proceeds 
from the croft to various departments to 
be filled, calendered, beetled, made up, and 
packed. 

Hours and wages in the bleaching trade vary 
very much. In some districts the bleachers 
work upon a piecework basis, and the hours 
worked per week usually are 55^ to 56^. In 
other districts it is customary to pay on a time 
basis at so rrmch per hour, and a working week 
usually consists of 59 to 60 hours. Wages are 
much the same as those of dyers, given below. 

Dyers. Apprenticeship does not prevail. 
Boys start at 14 or 15 years of age and 
receive from 7s. to 10s. per week, rising, usually 
by increments of Is. per annum, to 18s. per 
week, which seems to be the wage among the 
Staffordshire silk and cotton dyers. Attempts 
are being made to elevate the status of the 

2651 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

workers. The Yorkshire dyers are better 
paid, and their standard wage list is as follows : 

Leeds and Country 

Department Bradford Halifax Districts 

Crabbing (first man) .. 26s. 25s. 24s. 
(second man .. 24s. 23s. 22s. 
Singeing (first man) . . 26s. 25s. 24s. 
(second man) .. 24s. 23s. 22s. 
Black Dyehouse Machines 

(first man) .. .. 24s. 23s. 22s. 
Jiggers (first man) .. 24s. 23s. 22s 

Colour Dyehouse Machines 

(first man) .. .. 24s. 23s. 22s. 
Padding (first man) .. 24s. 23s. 22s. 
Jiggers (first man) . . 24s. 23s. 22s. 

Drying machine (first man) 26s. 25s. 24s. 
Washing-off Machines (first 

man) 24s. 23s. 22s. 

Black Rolling Department 

(first man) .. .. 24s. 23s. 22s. 

Firers 24s. 24s. 24s. 

Tub Skeiners . . . . 24s. 

Usual day's work is 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. Overtime 
after 7 p.m. is paid time and half, but night-shift 
men receive only 6d. extra per night. The work- 
men's unions control the taking on of new men. 

Carpet Weavers. In England the taking 
of apprentices depends upon the vacancies 
that may occur. Apprentices begin between 
the ages of 13 and 15, and are generally 20 
before being entrusted with a loom. If specially 
capable a youth may receive a loom at 18, but has 
Is. 8d. per deducted from his earnings until 
he is 21 years old. In the Leeds district, 3d. per 
shilling is deducted from the earnings of appren- 
tices up to 18 years of age, and 2d. up to 21 years 
of age. One penny per shilling on all fabric? for 
winding is deducted before the apprentice's fee is 
taken off. The foregoing principles apply to 
Venetians and Dutch. The charge for learning 
is paid by the employers. The duty of the usual 
apprentice is to attend to the requirements 
of two weavers, and he receives as salary 3s. 9d. 
in the of their joint earnings, which sum is paid 
by the firm. The apprentice usually earns 
anything from 8s. to 15s. per week. Weavers' 
wages are regulated by the " Kidderminster 
Price List," but under ordinary circumstances 
the weaver receives 30s. to 45s. for 55| hours' 
work. No extra rate is paid for overtime. 
In the Scottish carpet trade apprentices are 
accepted only after having been four years at the 
looms. First year 12s. to 14s. a week is paid. 
During the second year they are paid 75 per cent, 
of the piecework wages paid to men. Some- 
times during the third year this deduction 
of 25 per cent, is placed in the bank by the 
employer and handed to the worker in a lump 
sum upon the completion of his apprenticeship. 
Carpet weavers are paid by the piece, and rank 
high among textile operatives. 

Floor-cloth and Linoleum Printers. 
Apprentices begin at 10s. per week and rise by 
Is. a year during five years. Standard time wages 
m Scotland are 25s. per week. Overtime is 
paid time and a quarter. Most of the hand printing 
is now done under piecework prices, and the 
workers earn more under this system. 

2652 



Rope and Twine Operatives. Ap- 
prenticeship fairly general and lasts seven years, 
beginning at 6s/ and rising to 14s. per week. 
The standard wages of journeymen are 28s. per 
week for a 10| hours' day. Overtime during first 
two hours paid at time and a quarter rates, second 
two hours time and a half rates, and any longer 
time or holiday work paid double. 

Mat Makers. There is no apprenticeship 
in mat making proper, but apprentices serve for 
three years to matting weaving. The wages of 
workmen vary in different parts of the country. 
In London the average is about 30s. per week, 
and in the country from 20s. to 25s. Nearly 
all the work is paid at piece rates, and there 
is practically no overtime. 

WOODWORKING 

Sawmill Operatives. Nearly all sawyers 
and machine men serve four years' apprentice- 
ship, and saw doctors six to seven years. 
Apprenticeship wages, 12s. to 20s. per week, and 
occasionally more. Sawyers' wages range from 
7d. to 9d. per hour, and machine men from 7|d. 
to lOf d. per hour, depending somewhat upon the 
nature of the machine worked, and upon the 
skill of the operator. Hours vary from 51 to 
54 per week, and overtime wages from one and 
a quarter to one and a half rates. 

Saw doctors earn from 36s. per week, and the 
average is about 40s. Those in sawmills and ship- 
yards have a 54-hour week, and those employed 
by joiners, builders, and cabinet-makers work 
51 hours per week. 

Carpenters. See under Building Trades. 

Cabinetmakers. Influences which have 
modified the conditions of carpenters and joiners 
have brought similar but more accentuated 
results to the cabinet-making trades in England. 
The conditions of apprenticeship in the latter 
approximate to those given under Carpenters. 
The wages and working hours of cabinetmakers 
vary widely. The following show the conditions 
in several representative towns : 

Rate of Wages 
per hour or 
per Week. 

7d. to 8d. per hour . 

36s. to 38s. 
/ 36s. in Town Shops 
\ 38s. 3d. in shipyards 

38s. 3d. to 42s. 9d. 

8 ! d. per hour 

28s. to 35s. 

7 id. to 8d. per hour 

35s. 

8d. per hour 

7d. to lOd. per hour 

7^d. per hour 

28s. to 30s. 

9d. per hour 

9id. per hour 

9 id. to 10i-d. per hour . 

28s. to 30s. 

9W. hour; carvers 10d.. 

8 id. to 9d. per hour . 
f 9ird. per hour 
\ 37s. in shipyards . . 

8 |d. to 9d. per hour . 

8d. to 8|d. per hour 4 

8^d. per hour 

7 d. to 8d. per hour 

30s. to 32s. 



District. 

Aberdeen 
Barrow-in-Furness 

Belfast 

Birmingham 

Bradford 

Bristol 

Carlisle 

Dublin 

Edinburgh 

Glasgow 

Hull 

Isle of Man (Douglas) 

Leeds 

Liverpool 

London 

Londonderry 

Manchester . . 

Middlesbrough 

Newcastle -on-Tyne 

Nottingham 
Preston 
Sheffield . . 
Wolverhampton 
York 



Hours of 
Labour 
per Week. 
51 
54 

54 
54 
54 
56 
50 
54 
51 
51 

54 



60 

54 
48 

53 
50 
54 
54 
to 54 



54 
54 



Overtime usually one and a quarter ordinary 
rate, but sometimes one and a half rate, and 
even double rate for special work and for certain 
days. Piecework is becoming more common, 
and under its conditions wages are higher and 
the work harder. Departmentalism is influencing 
the general efficiency of the workmen, who are be- 
coming specialists in their departments, thereby 
lessening their chances of securing occupation 
if necessity requires a change of employer. 

In Scotland apprenticeship prevails in all 
the different branches of the trade. Apprentice 
cabinetmakers, chairmakers, and polishers usually 
serve one year's probation at 4s. a week, and then 
a proper five years' apprenticeship, earning 
5s. 6d., 7s., 9s., 11s.. and 15s. during the re- 
spective years. Upholsterers and carvers serve 
six years and earn similar wages. The minimum 
wages for cabinetmakers, chairmakers, and 
French polishers are 7^d. per hour, and of carvers 
and upholsterers 8|d. per hour. The minimum 
rates for machine men are as follow : 

Boring and morticing machines 6|d. per hour. 

Tenoning machines . . . . 7d. 
Band, fret, german, and circular 

saws . . . . . . /"" 7|d. 

Planing, dovetailing, yankee, 

and straight moulding 

machines . . . . . . 7|-d. 

Spindle machine . . . . 8d. 

General hand . . . . . . 8d. 

Hand turner . . . . . . 7d. 

Men may earn much more on piecework. 
Time workers have one and a quarter rate for 
first five hours overtime, and one and a half rate 
afterwards. 

In Dublin there is a revulsion from the 
former looseness of the apprenticeship system. 
A few years ago the employers found that so- 
called apprentices finished their time without a 
proper knowledge of their trade, and they now 
bind apprentices for seven years, the wages 
beginning at 2s. 6d. a week, and rising to 20s. 
during the last year. This practice is making 
for good quality in Dublin-made furniture. 
The standard wages for men are 35s. per week cf 
54 hours, with one and a quarter rate for over- 
time beyond two hours. 

Carriage Builders. In England, appren- 
ticeship lasts for seven years, usually beginning 
at 3s. per week and advancing by Is. to 2s. 
increments each year. 

The wages of adult operatives are from 34s. 
to 40s. per week of 53 hours, and the remuneration 
for overtime is time and a quarter. Many 
employers give their apprentices double time 
for overtime. The wages of the adult operatives 
vary somewhat, as, although a smith gets, say, 
38s. there are many other workmen who may get 
40s. and 42s. per week. In fact, a man is practi- 
cally worth what he makes himself worth, as 
machinery is not used to any great extent. 
Smiths, vicemen, bodymakers, painters and 
trimmers are in practically constant employment. 

In Wales apprenticeship is common, especially 
in the wheelwright and wood trade, but not so 
common in the smiths and painting depart - 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

ments. Many boys enter the trade after being 
strikers for a smith or handy lad in the paint shop. 
Apprenticeship, where it prevails, ranges from 
three to five years ; sometimes a premium of 5 
to 10 is demanded. Wages are 2s. 6d. for first 
year, rising by 2s. 6d. annual increases. After 
apprenticeship, a youth usually serves two years 
as improver at 18s. to 20s. per week. Average 
wage for workmen is 32s. per week of 54 hours. 
Overtime varies from ordinary rate to one and a 
quarter time.. 

In the Scottish van and lorry trade appren- 
ticeship is for five years, with 5s. a week, rising 
by Is. per week every six months. Wages of 
first-class men average 34s. per week of 54 
hours with one and a quarter rate for overtime. 

Railway Waggon and Carriage 
Makers. Apprenticeship is fairly general, and 
lasts four or five years, beginning at Is. per day 
and rising to 2s. during last year. Apprentices in 
piecework shops are often paid more, sometimes 
half as much again. Contract shops work nine 
hours per day on piecework. In the colliery 
districts, 9J hours per day on day wages is 
the rule. In contract shops, 32s. per week is 
the usual workmen's wage, and overtime is paid 
at one and a quarter rates. In colliery districts, 
general wages are 30s. per week, with no extra 
for overtime. In these districts, workmen 
complain that during the summer time they are 
often required to work for six hours, up to 
12.30 p.m., and receive only half a day's pay ; 
also, that they are often required not to work on 
Saturdays, thereby forfeiting a whole day's pay. 
The employers in this department are few, and 
the men, therefore, unable to enforce better 
conditions of labour. 

Coopers. Apprenticeship general and 
usually imperative. Time served, seven years, 
beginning at 4s. per week, and rising annually 
Is. or sometimes 2s. per week. After third or 
fourth year, however, apprentices are frequently 
put on piece rates, receiving half, and during 
the last year of apprenticeship two-thirds of the 
journeymen's standard wage. Standard wages 
in the Midlands for wet coopers are 6s. 6d. per 
day, or 36s. 6d. per week of 54 hours, with 10d f 
per hour for overtime. London wages are 7s. 6d. 
to 8s. 6d. per nine hours' day. 

GLASS AND EARTHENWARE 
TRADES 

Bottle Makers. Apprentices serve five or 
six years, beginning at 15s. and rising to 30s. a 
week. There is usually about one apprentice 
to every six workmen. In the Glasgow district, 
which may be taken as typical, the weekly wages 
are as follow : Finishers, 33s. 6d. and Is. 6d. per 
gross for overwork ; blowers, 30s. 6d. and Is. 2d. 
per gross for overwork ; gatherers, 24s. 6d. and 
lOd. per gross for overwork. Work is for 50 
and 51 hours per week. In the North ofEngland 
conditions are somewhat similar. Lads begin 
apprenticeship at from 14 to 16 years of age and 
finish at 21. Average wages are : finishers, 55s. ; 
blowers, 47s. 6d., and gatherers, 40s. Apprentices 
during their last stages earn 21s. per week. The 
week's work consists of five or six 10-hour shifts. 

2653 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

Flint-glass Makers. A boy begins in 
the glass works at the age of 14, and works 
about two years before becoming a properly recog- 
nised apprentice. He usually serves until 21 
years old in most parts of England, but in some 
departments of the trade must serve seven years 
after beginning apprenticeship. In London, the 
lad is not apprenticed at all, but works as a 
boy assistant, until skill and a vacancy gives 
him the opportunity of taking position as a 
workman. In the provinces he begins at the 
standard wage of 5s. or 6s. a week, rising Is. per 
week annually for 33 hours' work or 11 " moves," 
as they are called. Overtime is paid pro rata. The 
usual practice is to work 13 or 14 moves per week, 
which gives a wage of 8s. for 14 moves, on a basis 
of 6s. standard. One apprentice is usually allowed 
for every two " chairs." A chair usually consists 
of three men and a boy or boys, the apprentice 
taking the place of one of the men. Each chair is 
made up of three distinct workmen a workman, a 
servitor, and a footmaker. All are skilled workmen, 
except when an apprentice takes the place of one 
of the workmen. The earnings of the three classes 
vary according to the class of work to which they 
are accustomed. The chairs are divided into first, 
second, and third class. For instance, a chair 
making best light wine-glasses, commonly known 
as " straw stems," receives a better standard 
wage than a chair making ordinary wines and 
goblets; and one making all kinds of cutting 
work earns more than another making small 
electric shades and chimneys. The standard 
provincial wages for a week of 11 moves for the 
various classes are as follow : Workmen, 30s. 
to 40s. ; servitors, 24s. to 28s. 6d. ; footmakers, 
19s. to 21s. In London, wages are considerably 
higher, piecework being general. All work 
except new patterns and matchings is piece- 
work, and work declared unfit after making 
causes the whole chair to suffer in wages. If the 
articles are cracked or melted in the bar while 
being annealed, the usual custom is to pay half 
rates. 

Work is continuous, and is carried on by 
six-hour shifts, each man usually working six, 
seven, or eight shifts per week, as the nature of 
the work and the condition of trade permit. 
Overtime is paid pro rata, upon the standard 
basis for 1 1 moves per week. 

Glass Bevellers and Silverers. 
Apprenticeship usual in the several branches. 
Shape workers bevellers who follow curves 
and fancy patterns receive lOd. to Is. or 
even more per hour, and average 42s. to 45s. 
per week throughout the year. Straight 
workers, whose work lies only in straight lines 
are paid by piece and average about 36s. per 
week. Cutters earn about 40s. or 42s. per week 
and siders who clean mirror plates in prepara- 
tion for silvering receive about 30s. Silverers 
make 30s. to 40s. a week, according to skill 
Usual hours of working for all classes are 
o4 per week. 

Pottery Workers. In a pottery there 
are several different kinds of workpeople. 
H J h , rower that is, the man who moulds 
the dish with his hands as it revolves on the 

2654 



potter's wheel is the most important man, and 
may be termed the "potter." The others are 
the men who prepare the clay, those who make 
dishes into moulds, and those who fire them 
in the kilns. The throwers alone have appren- 
tices, who serve usually for seven, but sometimes 
for five years, and the common hours are from 
6 a.m. to 6 p.m. Wages begin about 4s. per week, 
but the lad soon gets piecework, for which he is 
usually paid half a journeyman's wage. For 
the last three years he gets two -thirds. The 
apprentices are frequently limited to one for 
every five journeymen. A journeyman may earn 
from 40s. to 50s. per week on full time, but the 
average is about 30s. For high -class work, 
much more money may be made and many 
operatives earn double the amount stated. 
Sixty hours per week is the time, but piece- 
workers are. not tied down to these hours. 
Overtime is usually at the same rate as ordinary 
time. 

There are a large number of women workers 
in potteries, mostly helpers, who finish the work 
of the men. Such women are paid 12s. to 15s. 
per week. Some women work light machines 
and earn from 20s. to 25s. per week. 

Earthenware Decorators. In Stafford- 
shire a seven years' apprenticeship is essential 
Wages are 2s. and 4s. respectively during first 
and second years. During third and fourth years 
pay is half ordinary piecework rates ; in fifth and 
sixth years, two-thirds, and in seventh year five- 
sixths of piecework rates. Thus, the apprentice 
usually receives about 7s. 6d. a week during 
third year, and rises to 25s. a week in seventh 
year. The whole of the trade is practically on 
piecework, and for common commercial goods 
the workman earns between 25s. and 36s. a week. 
Specialists who by ability and application rise 
to the dignity of artists in their craft earn 2 
to 6 a week. About 10 per cent, of the work- 
men are specialists earning these special prices. 
Overlookers are paid about 40s. a week. 
The hours are from 45 to 50 per week, and 
overtime is remunerated at the same rate as 
ordinary time. 

PAPER AND PRINTING TRADES 

Paper Makers. No apprenticeship general, 
except in the manufacture of handmade paper. 
In the Lancashire paper mills the following are 
recognised as the average wages of workmen 
who work 60 hours a week : Machinemen, 
2 5s. ; assistant machinemen, 1 Is. ; beater- 
men, 2 4s. ; picker boys, 12s. 6d. ; potchermen, 
1 4s. ; fillers-in, or beaters, 1 ; pressplatemen, 
1 ; boilerhousemen, 1 2s. ; roastermen, 
1 3s. ; firemen, 1 7s. 6d. ; steam enginemen, 
1 8s. ; cullendermen, 1 2s. ; cuttermen, 1 5s. ; 
cutter boys, 10s. ; reelermen, 1 5s. ; rag sorters, 
13s. ; overhaulers, 17s. 6d. ; finishers, 1 8s. ; 
general labourers, 19s. 6d. ; bleach-housemen, 
21s. In other districts, wages are from 2s. 6d. 
to 15s. per week less. In some mills work is 
divided between two twelve-hour shifts, but in 
Sheffield three eight-hour shifts are the rule. 
Overtime sometimes paid on the regular rates 
and sometimes up to 50 per cent, extra. 



Paper=stainers. Apprenticeship, formerly 
common, is now infrequent. Boys help the 
workmen and receive 5s. to 7s. a week. If 
they show aptitude they may be taken on as 
workmen after the age of 16. Payment of 
the workman is by piece and amounts to 
40s. to 48s. a week, from which the pay of 
the boy helper has to be deducted. Machine 
workers are paid by time, earning 80s. to 40s. 
a week and occasionally more. Labourers are 
paid about 25s. a week. 

Engravers and Process Workers. 
Apprentices serve five to seven years, beginning 
at 14 years of age upwards. Time spent in tech- 
nical schools reckoned as apprenticeship. Occa- 
sionally premiums are required, but usually 
apprentices begin at 4s. per week and rise to 12s. 
Litho artists in London receive about 50s. per 
week, and in the provinces about 45s. Many 
competent chromo artists are paid 3, 4, and 
even 5 per week. Competent etchers receive 
50s. in the provinces and 60s. in London. 
Hours of work for all classes usually 46J per 
week. Overtime up to 9 p.m. on ordinary 
days and 4 p.m. on Saturdays is paid at time 
and a quarter rates, and at double time after 
these hours and on holidays. 

Electrotypers and Stereotypers. In 
London and other large centres the usual 
apprenticeship is seven years, beginning at 6s. and 
rising by successive stages of 7s., 8s., 10s., 12s., 
and 18s. per week to 24s. per week during the 
last year. The minimum London wage for a 
skilled workmen is 40s. per week. Evening news- 
paper work is paid at the rate of 47s. per week, 
and morning newspaper work 52s. For over- 
time the first four hours are paid at one and a 
quarter rates, and afterwards one and a half 
rate is allowed. 

Compositors. Apprenticeship general ; 
length, seven years. Beginning wage varies, 
usually 4s. to 5s., rising 2s. per week per year. 
London compositors usually earn 39s. for 52| 
hours' work. Overtime paid 3|d. per hour extra 
for first three hours, 4d. per hour extra for next 
two hours, and 5d. per hour afterwards. 

Printers' readers are usually promoted from 
the composing-room, and work the same number 
of hours. Their remuneration is from 42s. per 
week upwards. 

Linotype and monotype machine operators 
are also taken from the composing-room. The 
hours are shorter, only 48 per week, and wages 
begin at 45s. in London. Piecework is the rule 
on newspaper work. London standard piece- 
work rates are 3d. per 1,000 ens, and 3|d. per 
1,000 ens for type larger than brevier. News- 
paper work is more highly remunerated, the 
rates being 3Jd. per 1,000 ens for evening papers, 
3|d. per 1,000 ens for morning papers, and 
|d. per 1,000 ens additional in each case for all 
types above brevier. Good men can easily 
earn 3 to 4 per week, and operators of excep- 
tional speed a good deal more. 

Machine Printers. The relation of 
apprentices to journeymen is usually regulated 
by a sliding scale. In a small shop the pro- 
portion may be one to three, but in a large 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

shop where over 30 journeymen are working, 
one to three is the rule. Apprentices are usually 
over 20 years of age before they begin, and are 
generally youths who have helped the printers, 
doing backtenting work. Apprentices serve seven 
years, earn 16s. to 20s. per week during the first 
year, and rise to about 28s. 6d. in the last year. 
The wage of a journeyman varies according 
to the machine in his charge. Tenders of 
6-colour machines receive 44s. to 45s. per week, 
of 8-colour machines 46s. to 48s. per week, of 
10 and 12-colour machines 50s. per week, and 
of 16-colour machines 52s. 6d. per week. The 
week is one of 56 hours' work. Overtime is 
not allowed beyond one hour per day, and 
that hour must be paid at time and a half rate. 

Plate Printers. Apprenticeship usually* 
lasts seven years, beginning at 6s. a week with a 
2s. per week increase each year. Occasionally 
more is paid, especially when the lad is put on 
piecework, when he may earn as much as 25s. 
during the latter part of his apprenticeship ; 
90 per cent, of the workmen are on piece- 
work, and the average earnings are about 42s. 
Men of exceptional skill may earn more, say 
3 or over. Hours are from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. 
No extra remuneration for overtime, but night 
work is paid Is. to 2s. 6d. per night above 
ordinary piecework rates. 

Bookbinders' and Machine Rulers. 
Apprenticeship general, usually by indenture ; 
usual period seven years. Wages begin at 5s. per 
week, rising to 12s. or sometimes 16s. per week 
during last year. Unindentured apprentices 
frequently change employment before time is up, 
and earn as much as 20s. as improvers. Work- 
men's union favours indentured apprenticeship. 
Journeymen's wages are higher in the large 
centres than they are in smaller towns, and the 
standard minimum varies from 35s. per week of 
48 hours to 30s. per week of 54 hours. 

Lithographers. Apprenticeship usual. 
Duration, six to seven years, beginning at 5s. per 
week, and rising to 10s. or 15s. Workmen earn 
34s. to 50s., hours being 48 to 54 per week. 

Bookbinders. Apprenticeship fairly 

general, especially in the best leather and mis- 
cellaneous binderies ; duration, seven years. 
Wages, os. per week, rising to 15s. or 20s. In 
London there is a specific minimum wage rate. 
Forwarders receive 35s. for 48 hours. Finishers 
receive the minimum of 36s. for 48 hours. Piece- 
workers of average skill make at least Is. per 
hour. Overtime, 25 per cent, extra after 52 
hours, or after 10 hours in any one day in all 
departments. These rules do not apply to 
vellum binders, who are paid special rates. 

MISCELLANEOUS TRADES 
Bakers and Confectioners. Wages 
and conditions vary much in different districts. 
In large factories in London, adult hands 
receive 30s. per week, and all time beyond 10 
hours in any one day is paid for at 50 per cent, 
above ordinary rate. London shop hands are 
divided into four grades, and are paid as follow : 
Forehands, 36s. per week ; Scotch fore or single 
hands, 33s. per week; second hands, 30s. per 

2655 



INDUSTRIAL CAREERS 

week ; all other adult hands, 27s. per week. 
Young men between 18 and 21 years of age, who 
are not engaged in moulding and dough making, 
but are occupied partly in the bakehouse and 
partly as barraw men receive 22s. per week or 
more. Jobber forehands receive 6s. 6d. per 
day for 10 hours' work, and other jobbers 5s. 6d. 
per day, overtime being paid at time and a 
half rates, and Sunday labour is paid double. 
Hours worked are 60 per week. In pro- 
vincial towns, where the operative bakers are 
associated, the conditions approximate to 
those in London, but in smaller towns the 
position of the workman baker is not so 
satisfactory. 

In Ireland the Bakers Union insists on a 
five years' apprenticeship, but in some small 
towns only three or four yaars are served. In 
the cities the proportion of apprentices is 
restricted. In Belfast, for instance, it is one to 
four men. Usual apprenticeship wages, 5s. to 7s. 
a week during first yaar, rising annually Is. per 
week. Wages of workmen vary from 22s. a 
week in a few country districts to 34s. in Belfast, 
Dublin, and Limerick. Hours average 54 per 
week, but are 52 in some larger centres. Over- 
time is discouraged, but is frequently paid 9d. 
per hour. In Belfast and Dublin night work 
is common, but elsewhere day work is the rule. 

In Scotland the bakers in and around Glasgow 
are the most highly remunerated, the minimum 
weekly wage being usually 34s. In Edinburgh 
it is 28s. ; in Aberdeen, 30s. ; in Dundee, 31s. 
In small towns such as Brechin, Forfar, and 
Inverurie it is only 24s. Hours of working 
vary from 51 to 57 per week. Apprentices 
serve five years and must not be less than 16 
years old when they begin. 

Basket=makers. Apprenticeship is still 
the rule in the chief centres when the work 
is done in factories, but many of the chief 
baskets are made by " sweated industry," 
when the wages of the workpeople are barely 
sufficient to sustain existence. Apprentices 
to basket-making are perhaps usually the 
sons of basket-makers, and there is nothing 
approaching uniformity in apprenticeship 
wages. Work is paid by piece, and the scale 
is regulated by the trade societies in the large 
centres. The most skilled workers may make 
as much as 50s. a week when busy, but the 
average for good men is between 30s. and 
35s., while those on common work earn about 
5s. less. , Hours are nominally about 56 per week. 

Bamboo and cane work is chiefly done by 
foreigners in London who work hard for very 
little money, a male adult worker averaging 
perhaps only from 15s. to 20s. per week of 60 to 
70 hours. There are a few places where better 
conditions prevail, but these are limited and 
confined to high-class work. 

Chemical Trades. In most of the 
manufacturing chemical trades apprenticeship 
s unknown. The experts are scientists who 
are paid in accordance with ability, and are 
professional men. The workmen are super- 
vised by foremen who receive 40s. to 50s. per 
week. The workmen are merely labourers 

2656 



divided into chemical labourers and yard 
labourers. Leading hands in the former class 
are paid 6d. or 7d. per hour, making 27s. to 
32s. per week of 54 hours, and ordinary hands, 
20s. to 27s. per week. Yard labourers receive 
a little less. Overtime is frequent in some 
works and is remunerated at one and a quarter 
ordinary rate. 

White-lead workers, whose work is unhealthy, 
usually receive 7s. 6d. per day, but are not 
allowed to work more than three days in one 
week. Other men in white-lead works usually 
earn 19s. to 22s. per week of 56 to 59 hours. 

In soap, candle, and glue works payment is 
sometimes by piece and sometimes by time. 
Unskilled men earn from 20s. to 25s. ; first- 
class labourers and workers of medium ability 
up to 40s. a week ; and foremen and men of 
special skill over 40s. Women and boys are 
also employed, the former earning 9s. to 15s. 
and the latter from 6s. to 15s. 

Piano Makers. The trade is becoming 
less skilled than formerly on account of the 
subdivision of labour, and there are no appren- 
tices proper. Boys who wish to learn the trade 
thoroughly should enter the employment of 
one of the smaller makers. The average earn- 
ings for the different workmen are as follow : 
Back makers, by piece, earning 40s. to 45s. 
in time of pressure, but only 25s. to 30s. in 
slackness. Bellyers and markers off, lOd. to 
lid. per hour. Stringers (usually boys), 
6d. per hour. Fitters up, 8d. to Is. per hour, 
average about 9d. to lOd. Finishers and 
regulators, the most skilled of the workmen, 
40s. to 60s. per week. 

Indiarubber Workers. Apprenticeship 
not the rule. Youths taken on for two and 
three years at wages according to age. In 
English works workmen earn 35s. to 38s. per 
week for 48 to 56 hours. Sometimes overtime 
is paid at time and a quarter rates. 

Electric cable makers are poorly paid. The 
work is not skilled, as machinery, largely 
automatic, is employed extensively. The 
men earn only from 4^d. to 6d. per hour on 
day work with the average about 5d. In a 
few processes piecework is practised and the 
earnings in such a case may rise to 33s. or 34s. 
per week. The hours worked are usually about 
60 per week. 

Electrical Workers. There are many 
classes of workmen in the electrical en- 
gineering trades. To lay and repair the 
service mains there are service layers, brick- 
layers, and labourers, who earn 8d., 9d., and 
6d. per hour respectively. Wiremen and 
jointers earn from 7|d. to 9|d. per hour. 
Apprentices do not learn the trade ; labourers 
or boy helpers develop the ability and become 
wiremen. In electrical engineering works boys 
usually serve four to six years, beginning at 5s. 
per week, and usually rising 2s. annually. Men's 
wages are from S^d. to lOd. per hour. Overtime, 
one and a quarter rates for first two hours, and 
one and a half rates for longer. Sundays and 
bank holidays, double rates. Week has 54 
working hours. 



THE ART OF THE EAST 

Chaldea and Assyria : The Dawn of Realism. Persia : Eclecticism 


Group 2 

ART 
18 




continued from page 2523 



By P. G. KONODY 



pOMPARED with the knowledge we have of 
the art of the ancient Egyptians, our recon- 
struction of the art of the early Asiatic Empires, 
of Babylonia and Assyria, is comparatively frag- 
mentary, based, as it is, mainly on the results of 
Layard's and Botta's excavations. The monu- 
mental works of the peoples settled on the banks 
of the Euphrates and Tigris were not as durable as 
those of the Nile valley, owing to the destruc- 
tibility of the building material, which consisted 
mainly of sun-dried bricks clad with coloured 
and glazed tiles and alabaster slabs, decorated 
with relief carvings on which we have to rely 
for our knowledge of these civilisations. 

Babylon. A few shapeless sandhills are all 
that is left of the mighty city of Babylon, but we 
know from ancient records the colossal extent of 
the strong walls by which the city was encircled. 
We know that the pyramidal Temple of Baal 
was built in eight terraces on a basis of about 
800 ft., and that the famous " Hanging Gardens " 
of Semiramis were laid out in similar fashion on 
pyramidal terraces [17]. Some Chaldean bas- 
reliefs and statues of extraordinarily skilled work- 
manship that were unearthed about thirty years 
ago by M. de Sarzec at Tello, the site of a Royal 
palace, date from about 3000-2000 B.C. 

The earliest remains of Chaldean art prove 
conclusively the striking difference between 
the Chaldean and Egyptian art ideal. In Egypt 
we have found a striving for monumental 
repose, and a simplification of form which often 
resulted in smooth surfaces without even a 
suggestion of bones and muscles. The turban- 
covered head of Tello, now in the Louvre, and 
the diorite statues from the same site, notably 
the one known as "The Architect of Tello " [19], 



has the muscles and bones modelled with rare 
knowledge of anatomy. This so called "Archi- 
tect of Tello" represents actually Gudea, King 
or Governor of Shirpurla. 

Assyrian Art. The chief aim of these 
sculptors was the expression of physical strength 
and power and muscular exertion. And the 
later Assyrian reliefs from the palace at Nineveh, 
of about 800-600 B.C., show the same character- 
istics, the same cult of strength and keen observa- 
tion of men and animals in action, the motifs being 
found in scenes of the chase and of war [21-3]. 
It was an entirely worldly, realistic art, as op- 





DETAILS OF ASSYRIAN ARCHITECTURE 



are marked by that sharp characterisation 
and pronounced realism which is the most 
striking feature of all Chaldean and Assyrian 
plastic art. There is more expression in this 
head of Tello than in all Egyptian sculpture, 
and the sturdy, thick-set figure of the architect 



18. ASSYRIAN FORTRESS 

to that of the Egyptians, whose chisels 
were devoted to the cult of the dead, of the gods, 
and of the god-like kings. These Assyrian 
reliefs are far less naive in the treatment of 
the human form than those of Egypt, where, 
it will be remembered, the torso is always shown 
turned to the spectator, whilst head 
and feet are in profile. The attitudes 
are perfectly natural and not forced 
into a rigid convention. 

As regards the representation of 
animals, the Assyrians reached a 
perfection of realistic statement that 
has rarely been equalled, and never 
surpassed, in the entire history of art. 
One need only instance the world- 
famed dying lion at the British 
Museum [21]. The suggestion of the 
roundness of form and of muscular 
development is the more astounding, 
as the relief is exceedingly shallow and 
very little raised above the surface of 
the background, and yet the modelling is sug- 
gested with extraordinary subtlety and truth. 

Assyrian Sculpture. The sculpture of 
the Assyrians was almost entirely in the service 
of their architecture. Only very few free-stand- 
ing statues have been found on the ancient 

2657 



ART 

.sites, ..but ye know that the interiors, and part 
< )f the exteriors of the temples and palace? weraen- 
t h ely covered with -reliefs [24], The most curious 
invention of the Assyrian genius was based on an 
idea similar to tha^t of the Egyptian sphinx, an,d 
took the shape of a winged bull with a bearded 
man's head. Carved in- high relief, \these -figures 
flanked the entrance - gates of the 
palaces, and were so disposed that a 
profile view of the mythic creature was 
gained from the front of the building, 
and a full-face view from within the 
portal. To obtain this end the man- 
beast was provided with five legs, of 
which four only could be seen in the 
profile, and two in the full-face view " 
the Assyrian is due the concep- 
tion of the winged angel, which 
has been handed down through 
the ages to play so important 
a part in Christian art, though 
the " Kherubim " of that war- 
like race were grim creatures, 
bearded, and of a distinctly 
Semitic type. 

Construct i o n of 
Assyrian Temples. In 

architecture the Assyrians must 
be given credit for the inven- 
tion of the vault arid cupola, 
which were extensively used in 
the building of their palaces 
and temples ; but the palaces, 
at least, show neither sym- 
metry nor any proper archi- 
tectural articulation. On a 
brick terrace with a stone 
parapet the rooms and halls 
were built in a haphazard way 
around an open court, as 
though the long, corridor-like 
apartments had been added one by one, as 
occasion arose, without any preconceived 
scheme. The wall decoration consisted partly of 
alabaster reliefs, 
partly of glazed 
and enamelled 
bricks in brilliant 
colours. Similarly, 
the floors were 
laid out in 
coloured bricks in 
purely ornamen- 
tal designs of 
great variety and 
beauty, the motifs 
being generally 
suggested by 
plant forms [20J. 
There can belittle 
doubt that many 
of the typical 
Greek ornamental 
devices were 
based on these 
Eastern proto- 
types* just as 
Greek sculpture 





20 



MAEBLE PAVEMENT SLAB SHOWING BABYLONIAN CARPET 
PATTERN (British Museum 



in' its early stages appears to have much in 
common with Assyrian certainly more than 
with Egyptian sculpture. 

Peculiarity of Assyrian Columns. 

The buildings rose terrace-like in several storeys, 
each storey being crowned by a little gallery 
with short columns, which provided the interior 
with light and air. Probably light 
was also allowed to enter through 
openings in the vaults or cupolas. The 
walls were divided by pilasters at regu- 
lar intervals and crowned by a parapet 
[17 and 18]. The use of columns played 
a very subordinate part in Assyrian 
architecture probably owing to the 
lack of suitable stone and pillared 
halls, such as those of the 
great Egyptian temples, were 
probably quite unknown. 
Where columns occur, they 
are generally of moderate 
height and carry a curious 
form of capital, consisting of 
two pairs of volutes placed 
one on the top of the other [17]. 
Sometimes these short columns 
rest on the backs of walking 
lions, a device frequently re- 
sorted to at a later period by 
the Italian sculptors of the 
thirteenth and fourteenth 
centuries. See, for example, 
Niccola Pisano's pulpit in Pisa. 

Temple at Khorsabad. 

Of the enormous extent of 
some of these palace buildings, 
the : excavations at Khorsa- 
bad may give some idea. The 
brick terrace on which the 
palace was raised has been calcu- 
lated to have occupied about 
40,000,000 cubic feet. About 210 apartments, 
many of .which were decorated with wall paint- 
ings, were arranged around thirty courts. The 

temple pyramid 
by the side of the 
palace had seven 
steps, four of 
which each 
20 feet high are 
still extant. Each 
of the seven 
storeys was re- 
splendent in a 
different colour, 
symbolic of one 
of the seven 
planets. The 
porches had round 
arches built j of 
specially formed, 
wedge -shaped 
enamelled bricks. 
We have no 
record of the 
pictorial art of 
Chaldea and 
Assyria. All we 



CAST OF STATUE OF GUDEA 
(British Museum) 



ART 



know is that bright colour played an 
important part in their architecture and 
sculpture, and that even their reliefs 
show unmistakable traces of having 
originally been painted. In the use of 
precious metals and of bronze the 
Assyrians attained considerable skill, 
though they did not rival the sump- 
tuous splendour of the Persians under 
the Achsemenides, who used gold and 
silver lavishly for architectural purposes. 
'Early Persian Art. The art of 
ancient Persia was of a distinctly eclectic 
type, and never reached any degree of 
independence. The love of splendid, 
dazzling display of the powerful dynasty 
that ruled over Persia after the fall of 
the Assyrian Em- 
pire in the middle 
of the sixth century 
B.C., was grafted on 
to the artistic tradi- 
tions of Assyria, of 
the Ionian Greeks 
in Asia Minor, and, 
to a lesser extent, 
even of Egypt. 
Thus the terraced 
pyramids of the 
temples, the winged 
bulls, the treatment 
of the relief decora- 
tions show the 
Assyrian influence ; 
the slender, grooved 
columns, the use of 
marble as building 
material, the intro- 
duction of the tri- 
angular pediment 
as architectural 
motif, are certainly 
due to Ionian in- 
fluence; whilst the 
cornice above the 
door of the Royal 
tombs near Mer- 
dascht is distinctly 
Egyptian in type. 
The only form 





ATTENDANT AND DOGS 
(Marble Slab from Nineveh at British Museum) 




23. A DYING LIONESS 

(Marble Slab from Nineveh at British Museum) 



21. A DYING LION 

(Marble Slab from Nineveh at British Museum) 

developed by the 
Persians themselves 
is the thoroughly 
characteristic and 
generally rather 
over - decorated 
capital, consisting 
sometimes of a pair 
of bulls or unicorns 
back to back ; or, 
again, of two flower 
cups one upright, 
the other and 
lower one turned 
downwards upon 
which rest some 
pairs of volutes, 
rather like those of 
the Assyrian capi- 
tals, but placed 
upright instead of 
horizontally. Other 
columns, again, 
have the flower- 
cups, the volutes, 
and the unicorns, 
an accumulation of 
decorative ideas 
which entirely de- 
stroys the propor- 
tions of the capital 
to the column. 
The interiors were 

decorated with rich carpets, 'glazed tiles, 
and profuse employment of gold and 
silver. In some apartments the ceilings 
were, like the roofs, covered with plaques 
of gold and silver. 

Persian Relief Sculpture. The 
relief sculpture has something of the 
hierarchic dignity of Egyptian, and 
something of the realism of Assyrian 
art. The subject matter, though still 
almost exclusively confined to the glori- 
fication of the King's power and dignity, 
is more general and less individual in 
character than the Assyrian chronicles 
of history carved in alabaster. The scenes 
represented deal with the ceremonial 
life at Court, not with individual acts 
of prowess and heroism. Statuesque 

2659 



ART 

dignity takes the place of well accentuated action, 
and herein may again be found the influence of 
early Greek sculpture. Drawing their inspiration 
from many foreign sources, the ancient Persians 
were unable to develop a really national style in 
art, and exercised little or no influence on the 
art of other races. 

If our knowledge of the art of 
the Phoenicians, and, to a certain 
extent, of the ancient Hebrews, 
is exceedingly limited, it is pro- 
bably due to the fact that 
neither of these two races ever 
arrived at a marked national 
style, like the races of the Nile 
Valley and of Central Asia. The 
Phoenicians are known to have 
been skilled craftsmen in many 
branches of applied art, but they 
confined themselves to the me- 
chanical repetition of imported 
ideas. Their sculpture and archi- 
tecture never rose above primi- 
tive crudeness. In the history of 
art they must, however, be given a 
certain position, because through 
their enterprise in trade and 
navigation they formed a link 
between the East and West, and 

helped to spread the civilisation 

of Central Asia in Europe. 

The Art of the Ancient 

Jews. The art of the ancient 

Jews has left even fewer traces 

than that of Phoenicia, and can 

only be judged from descriptions 

in the Old Testament. The 

severe Mosaic law, which for- 
bade the representation of the 

divine, one of the most 

powerful stimulants to 

artistic activity, held 

the Hebrew artists and 

craftsmen within strict 

confines. Their carved 

winged Kherubiin and 

some of their archi- 
tectural motifs can be 

traced back to Assyrian 

sources ; the disposition 

of the Temple at Jeru- 
salem is similar to the 




more than questionable. M. S. Reinach, in fact, 
points out that India had no art whatever before 
the period of Alexander the Great, arid that 
China " first began to produce masterpieces dur- 
ing the Mediaeval Ages in Europe. The most 
ancient Chinese sculptures of ascertained date 
were executed about the year 130 
of our era." 

Chinese Art. Whether the 
birth of Chinese art is of so recent a 
date, or goes back to a more distant 
past, is quite immaterial as far 
as the sequence of artistic develop- 
ment is concerned, since the strict 
political seclusion of the Celestial 
Empire has prevented the art of 
that country from spreading abroad 
and influencing, for good or for evil, 
the art of the West. Moreover, the 
art ideal of the East is so essentially 
different from that of the West that 
it can only be understood by the 
student who devotes himself entirely 
to its unravelling and even then 
such understanding will be incom- 
plete. Far greater has been the 
influence of the artists and marvel- 
lous craftsmen of Japan, which has 
permeated many phases of European 
art ; but this influence has been of 
such recent occurrence that it will 
have to be dealt with later in conneo~ 
tion with modern artistic -tendencies 
Speaking of the art of the Far 
East in general, we are apt to under- 
rate the spiritual significance, the 
symbolism, and the poetry that 
underlie what we are accustomed 
to consider a mere decorative con- 
vention of skilled crafts- 
men. But the student 
of Eastern ideals knows 
that almost every motif 
introduced in the 
decoration of a Chinese 
porcelain vase, or of a 
Japanese sword-guard, is 
fraught "with meaning 
and suggestion. It is 
scarcely too much to 
say that the cultured 
Chinese 



EevDtian sohpmp -v// umnese and Japanese 

"S ' SS J BLACK MARBLE OBELISK OF SHALMANESER looks upon the mani- 
proluse use of gold (From the British Museum. One of the few known examples festations of mnd 
suggests Persian in- of a free *""' monument from Assyria, which ?dS not Sf r ' 

fluence : whilst the so 8l ' pply the necessar y niaterials) European art with a 

feeling akin to contempt. 

They cannot conceive why art should choose 
for its subject the representation of obvious 
~3, since it may find a 
expression of the inner 



distinctly Greek 



Modern research ha th * i iuoject tne representation ot obvious 

Hghtl theTt of EitT si rtr e y n ne rt * aet l a "?, Pf!?. 1 " ri-oe it may find a 
great antiquity of wS* nT'be^dTot ZSfcftSg* '" ^ ^^^ * ** *""* 



Continued 



THE SECRET OF LONG LIFE 

Health is Wholeness of Life. Fatigue. Forces of Destruction 
and Repair. Five Classes and Laws of Health. Duration of Life 



Group 25 

HEALTH 



Following ou PHYSIOLOGY 
page 2539 



By Dr. A. T. SCHOFIELD 



AN 



A NATION'S health is a nation's wealth, and, 
what is quite as important to the individual, 
your health is your wealth or a very consider- 
able part of it. 

Yet, in spite of its importance, there are few 
things that so defy exact definition. What is 
health ? What is your health, and how does it 
differ from mine ? There is no doubt whatever 
what it depends on ; and that is successful resist- 
ance, to injury. And there is no doubt that 
this successful resistance itself depends upon 
two factors the strength of the attacking and 
of the defending forces. But when all this is 
said, we are as far as ever from understanding 
what health really is. 

The Right View of Health. Health, 
holiness, and wholeness are words from the same 
root, which serve to emphasise the point of view 
from which this section is written. Our outlook 
is an essentially broad and comprehensive one ; 
treating health and ill-health in relation to the 
entire man as man, and not, as is constantly the 
case in so many health 
manuals, in relation to 
his body alone. To say 
that a man is in perfect 
health who has a dis- 
torted mind or a dis- 
tracted soul is absurd ; 
for illness is to the 
body as sin is to the 
spirit. Therefore dis- 
ease may be called sin 
of the body, and error 
or sin sickness of the 
soul. The man under 
either of these in- 
fluences can be neither 
nor wholeness. 

No book, perhaps, has put this more clearly 
in modern days than the Giffard Lectures by 
Professor James, of Harvard University. The 
professor asserts that the health of the man 
consists essentially in the harmony of body, soul, 
and spirit, in their relations with one another 
and with their environment. Herbert Spencer, 
again, gives us the same thought when he says 
that health is perfect correspondence with our 
environment ; ill-health is imperfect correspon- 
dence, while death is the result of the failure of 
all correspondence. Health, then, is wholeness 
of life. 

Health itself is a word intelligible to everyone, 
but it does not mean the same thing to any two 
people. There are no two " healths " absolutely 
alike, any more than there are any two faces 
alike. Health, moreover, is no arbitrary standard 
of well-being ; it is entirely a relative term and 
not a fixed abstraction. A cottage piano may be 




THE ANABOLIC (BUILDING UP) AND KATABOLIC 
(THROWING DOWN) PROCESSES OF LIFE 



in a state of health 



in perfect tune i.e., in health but it is not a 
grand piano, nor ever will be ; and it is for 
want of seeing this, and recognising our personal 
limitations, that our healths are often destroyed 
and our lives frittered away in attempting the 
impossible and trying to make the health 
standard of a " cottage " that of a " grand." 

Health is Ease. One great and little 
understood sign of health is physical un- 
consciousness. A sentence which appears most 
expressive of perfect health is " Whether in 
the body or out of the body, I cannot tell." 
That is to say, that in perfect health every 
bodily function is performed with such entire 
ease that the man is unconscious of it ; just 
as we might imagine a six-cylinder motor-car 
so perfect that it flies along without the slightest 
movement or vibration of the engines being 
felt by the passengers. 

Much, however, that does not attain to this 
perfect standard is still called health ; and 
many consider themselves quite healthy when 
some wheel is always 
creaking or some vibra- 
tion always felt ; for 
the ideal is seldom 
completely realised. 
When it is, however, it 
is delightful. To move 
absolutely unconscious 
of the mechanism 
within you, to think 
and live entirely with- 
out effort, is a rare 
experience which at 
times illuminates our 
chequered lives and 
is treasured up as a blissful memory. 

Even natural fatigue at the end of a perfect 
day falls short of ideal health, in that one ia 
then painfully conscious of tired limbs ; but 
this may be termed a healthful ill-health, in that 
perfect sleep entirely dissipates it and each 
morning becomes a resurrection, when a new and 
untired body rises to obey through another day 
the lightest caprice of its owner. Health, there- 
fore, is ease and ill-health is dis-ease. 

Dynamic Equilibrium. Let us now 
look at the subject from a fresh point of view. 
Life is a condition of dynamic equilibrium 
that is, a balance of the two opposing forces of 
destruction and repair ; or, in other words, a 
condition of incessant change. When either 
of these two forces outweighs the other, the 
balance is lost and in adult life, at any rate 
the condition becomes one of ill-health. 

The force of repair is called anabolic or 
building up, and that of destruction katabolic or 
throwing down. All life, vegetable and animal, 

2661 



HEALTH 

is balanced by these two forces ; vegetable 
life, however, is mainly anabolic or building 
,,. while animal life is more katabolic, or 
throwing down ; so that, although m human 
life the forces appear to be balanced, they are 
not really so, for the vegetable does most of 
the storing, while the animal does all the 
spending. This may be made clear by the 
diagram on the preceding page. 

The Four Main Elements. In the 
diagram we see the four main elementsoxygen, 
nitrogen, hydrogen, and carbon-built up by- 
inorganic nature into air, water, and earth ; then 
further built up by the organic vegetable world 
into starch and albumen ; and lastly by the animal 
one step more, into flesh and blood. In de- 
struction, however, on the other hand, we nnd 
a sudden fall of two steps down to carbonic acid 
gas, water and ammonia compounds, again, ot 
the four elements with which we started 
oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen, and carbon. Thus 
the cycle of all life is complete. 

Animal life is founded and depends on the 
vegetable. Take that away and no life is pos- 
sible, for animal life cannot form flesh and blood 
from air, water, and earth without the interven- 
tion of the vegetable kingdom. Man, in short, 
cannot exist without the cabbage (as a typical 
vegetable), and all our vital powers are, after all, 
due to the silent and disinterested labours of the 
vegetable world. 

The rapidity of the change by which life is 
characterised is very great. No less than one 
twenty-fourth part of the body is dying daily. 
We may say, indeed, that we perish faster in 
life than in death ; the difference being that 
in the life the change is not seen, owing to the 
balancing effect of repair which is absent in 
death. The most healthy person must die, but 
the general object should be to live a healthy 
life and to die a natural death. 

Five Classes of Health. What do we 
mean by a natural death ? Men are not only 
born unequal in the power and capacity of 
their lives, but also as to the length of them. 
Both health and length of life are to a great 
extent a question of heredity. With regard to 
the former, Sir Benjamin Ward Richardson 
makes five classes : 

1. The perfectly healthy. 2. The healthy. 
3. The healthy till old. 4. The frequently 
unhealthy. 5. 'The constantly unhealthy. 

Of this last class, he says, the average life 
after twenty-five is not more than fifteen years. 
With regard to hereditary ill-health, however, 
\\c must make one important remark, and that 
!* that we do not inherit diseases, but tendencies 
i) disease, which may be, and often are, success- 
fully overcome. It is a sorry and false fatalism 
which declares that a drunkard's child is neces- 
sarily a drunkard. On the contrary, the glorious 
truth is this that all these tendencies to drink, 
gout, consumption, and the like, can be not 
only successfully guarded against and removed 

the tendency be known, but that, if thus 

d through three generations, the very 

tendency disappears in the fourth, and the 

weakened lung tissue or digestive apparatus 

2662 



with morbid craving, is absolutely and finally 
stamped out. To call this a glorious truth 
is not to use the language of exaggeration, for 
it not only delivers the individual from the 
" dead hand " of heredity, but it shows that 
by improving his own health he must benefit 
the future generation with cumulative force. 

The Secret of Longevity. Heredity, 
however, shows itself not only in health, but 
in length of life, and it is in this that the secret 
of longevity mainly lies ; and although this 
can be altered by the habits of the individual, 
the power to add to one's days is very slight 
compared to the ease with which they are 
shortened. Each persoiuis born into the world 
with a certain life -force and is constructed to go 
for a certain number of years like a clock. 
The length of time any individual may expect to 
live may be roughly calculated by dividing the 
sum of the lives of his six ancestors by six, and 
adding one year for every five that the result 
exceeds, or subtracting one year for every five 
that the result is less than sixty. Thus : 

Paternal Grandfather died at 67 
Grandmother 82 

Maternal Grandfather 90 
Grandmother 45 

Father 72 

Mother 63 

Sum of 6 ancestors is 419 -j- 6 = 69 yrs 
and 11 months. 

Failure of Life Power. To this two 
years may be added, as it is about ten years 
in excess of sixty, showing that the individual, 
roughly, is constructed to live for seventy-one 
years and eleven months. Should he so live, 
he then dies a natural death that is, a death 
from failure of life-power, and not from being 
cut off prematurely by disease or accident. 
It is an astonishing thing to reflect upon that 
only one in nine in this country thus dies. We 
write here for the other eight, who die premature 
and unnatural deaths. The number of those 
Avho attain seventy years of age is in Norway 
one-third of the population, in England one- 
fourth, in France one -eighth, and in Ireland one- 
eleventh. It is computed that, apart from 
disease, the ordinary span of life is five times 
that of growth ; and fixing growth at twenty- 
one years in the human race, men should die 
between 100 and 105 years. When we remember 
that the average duration of life here, with 
every advantage of sanitation, is still but forty- 
three years men forty-two, women forty-four 
that within our memory it was only thirty-six, 
that in the eighteenth century it was but twenty, 
we see what a mighty work remains to be 
achieved in perfecting the science of hygiene or 
prevention, as distinguished from that of 
medicine or cure. 

It is encouraging in this connection to see 
what sanitation has already done. Within 
memory, we have seen that the span of life 
in this country has been increased from thirty- 
six to forty-three years, which means that on 
an average every child now born has seven 
years added to its life. In the seventeenth 
century the average span of life, instead of 
being forty- three, was as low as thirteen. 
Sanitation has lowered the death-rate in old 



cities one-third, in new towns one-half. All 
this is encouraging, and leads us to expect still 
greater things. 

Three Barriers Against Disease. 

There are three great barriers against disease 
public, professional, and private. 

The public barrier against disease is every 
year getting more efficient in our Public Health 
laws, and in officers who not only surround our 
seaboard with a line of defence it is difficult to 
break through, but who extend like a fine net- 
work all over our country. In the towns they 
are all-powerful ; in the most remote village 
the voice of Hygiene is heard through the 
admirable County Council lectures which are 
now everywhere given. 

The next great enemy of disease is the pro- 
fessional barrier, erected by the medical profes- 
sion, and it is greatly to its honour that it has 
gone out of its way "in the noblest manner, in 
numberless instances, to prevent that disease 
by which alone it lives. 

But, as Lord Derby has so well reminded 
us, there exists a far greater barrier than these 
the private barrier, consisting of a knowledge 
of the principles and practice of hygiene in the 
minds of the people. It is this that men long 
for, and it is to this end that we shall seek in the 
plainest and most forcible manner to give here 
a plain and succinct account of the laws of 
personal and domestic hygiene. 

Our subject falls into four great divisions. 
The first is devoted to General Principles ; the 
second is a close study of the Five Laws of 
Health ; the third is devoted to Personal Hy- 
giene ; and the fourth treats of Environment 
in all its main aspects of work, locality, home, 
sanitation, and the various health laws under 
which we live. 

The Signs of Health. It has already 
been pointed out that health is a most difficult 
matter to define, and that a man may even 
feel in health and yet be unhealthy. Symptoms 
of disease often do not appear at first ; ill- 
health is by no means always apparent. 

No one but a skilled physician can really 
say if a man is in perfect physical health and 
strength. 

Dr. Southey gives as signs of health: (a) 
" Good construction, that is a sound body ; 
(6) Accommodativeness to change, individual 
adaptability to widely diverse conditions of 
life, or of climate, without deterioration of 
energy ; (c) Endurance ; (d) Self-controlmental, 
emotional, sexual ; (e) Resistance to morbific 
influences." These definitions go somewhat 
beyond mere health, and are rather parts of 
what is called robust health, or health and 
strength. He further says, " Health at every age 
may be secured by following this brief advice. 
For infancy and childhood sustine (or sustain) ; 
for adult years sustine et abstine (or sustain 
and abstain) ; for old age sustine (or sustain) 
again. 

Speaking of strength we must remember that 
" strength " by no means always involves con- 
ditions of health. A man may be remarkably 
" strong " in more than one way ; his muscles 



HEALTH 

may be of extraordinary size and vigour, or his 
brain active and powerful ; he may excel as an 
athlete, or he may be conspicuous for intellectual 
energy ; and yet he may be in imminent danger 
of death from failure of some vital organ. Such 
a state is not a very uncommon one. 

Again, as Sir William Savory has pointed out, 
one person will live and enjoy life in the midst 
of hardship and deprivation, will bear exposure 
and escape risks to which many others would 
succumb, and yet die prematurely from some 
cause which appears to arise from within. 
Another person will be throughout his life ex- 
tremely delicate, never attaining enjoyment of 
it except at the expense of care and watchful- 
ness, and perhaps not even then ; yet living 
on into a good old age. 

The Conditions of Long Life. But 

these apparent contradictions disappear when 
it is remembered that health and the duration 
of life depend on the health and power of 
endurance of the weakest of the organs which 
are necessary to it ; that failure in one organ 
cannot be compensated by excess of energy in 
another whose function is different ; and further- 
more, that full and even extraordinary vigour 
of an organ during a great portion of its life does 
not necessarily foretell a long term of endurance. 
For a while it may be strong, and yet may very 
soon wear out. But although health and 
strength are by no means always associated ; 
and although, further, health in its proper sense 
does not always imply a long life ; yet in estimat- 
ing the chances of its duration, it need hardly 
be said that these conditions are of paramount 
importance. 

The health of all individuals is largely affected 
by their original constitution. Unquestionably, 
there is more of vital action in a given time in some 
individuals than in others. In a strictly physio- 
logical sense, some live much faster than others, 
and die prematurely, if life be measured only by 
time (which, as has been pointed out, is falla- 
cious), but not if the amount of it may be 
estimated by action. 

That physical state is the most promising 
which may be described as the average one. 
Exaggeration or eccentricity, or considerable 
deviation from the usual type, whether of the 
whole frame or any important organ of it, is 
probably not favourable in this respect ; although 
perhaps such extreme conditions may represent 
extraordinary powers in a particular direction. 

Disadvantages of Extremes. For ex- 
ample, in regard to height and bulk, very tall 
and large men, as a rule, do not last so long or 
so well as those of average stature. In propor- 
tion to their numbers, very tall or very short 
men are far more often badly made than men of 
average size say from five feet seven inches to 
five feet nine inches in height, and in weight 
from 140 to 160 pounds. The men of the Fire 
Brigade may be taken in illustration of this. 
They are for the most part of very average 
size and weight ; and in physical excellence, 
and in attributes which more immediately 
depend on this, it would be difficult to match 

2663 



HEALTH 

them. In the case of any particular organ, 
or defect, or any eccentricity of character, 
implies a corresponding want of accurate adjust- 
ment to the rest ; and harmony of action is, as 
we have already seen, a condition of health. 

So much for some conditions on which good 
health depends. We need not pursue this 
I .ranch of the subject further, as our business 
is not so much to curiously inquire into all the 
various factors which constitute health as to 
examine those external conditions on which it 
depends, all of which are comprehended in the 
\\<>i(l " hygiene." 

The science of hygiene differs essentially 
from that of medicine, in that in the former 
a little knowledge is not a dangerous thing, 
whereas in the latter it is. It is so simple to 
prevent an accident compared to the difficulty 
of repairing the damage when done. To kick 
a piece of orange-peel off the pavement and so 
prevent a fractured thigh-bone is a simple act ; 
to set the bone perfectly when broken takes at 
least four years to learn. 

The Five Laws of Health. There are 
but five laws of health for the body, and these 
insist that food shall be wholesome, air pure, 
clothing sufficient, cleanliness practised, and 
exercise and rest taken when needed. Too con- 
stant thought however, even about these simple 
laws, is not, curiously enough, the way to pre- 
serve health ; for it is perfectly true that 
many keep well simply by being too busy to 
think about themselves at all. W T ell-meant 
efforts to prolong life may simply end in 
shortening it, by using up the nerve force in 
worrying instead of living. 

If we consult the authorities of all time whose 
maxims have come down to us, we shall find that 
without exception they regard man as a complex 
being, adapted for vicissitudes rather than same- 
ness of habits, climate, occupation, and diet. 
Celsus says that health is best preserved by avoid- 
ing settled habits of life, and deviating sometimes 
into slight aberrations from the laws of hygiene, 
by varying the proportions of food and exercise, 
" interrupting the successions of rest and labour', 
and mingling hardships with indulgence." " He 
that too long observes punctualities condemns 
himself to voluntary imbecility, and will not 
long escape the miseries of disease." Sterne 
says " People always taking care of their health 
are like misers hoarding a treasure, they have 
never spirits enough to spend." Many will re- 
member the epitaph on the Italian who took 
too much care of his health, " I was well I 
would be better Here I am." 

On the other hand, Johnson says what is not 
to be forgotten, that " Health is so necessary to 
ie duties as well as to the pleasures of life 
the crime of squandering it is equal to the 
T - says " A principal rule of life 



is not to be too much addicted to any one 
thing.'' 

Risks of Over=anxiety. Dr. Norman 
Kerr used to say that a great danger lurks 
" in the very thinking of health " ; a remark 
which makes one rather anxious as to the 
lurking danger of studying the subject at all, 
and indeed, this danger is a real one. It is quite 
possible to study hygiene, though we will take 
every possible safeguard against introspection, 
in a morbid spirit ; and thus this section, which, 
rightly considered, cannot fail to be for the good 
of its 'readers, may be so misused by them as to 
turn to evil. The way to prevent this is to take 
heed to these warnings. " The pursuit of 
health," says some cynicgfl wit, " is good, if it 
be not our own." If you would be healthy 
never make health your object. Egotism always 
defeats itself, and if it pursues health and 
happiness as an end in life, it never reaches it. 
It seems singular counsel in a treatise on health 
to advocate a wise carelessness, but it is pro- 
foundly true, from a reason that those who are 
acquainted with the subject and the w r onders 
of the unconscious mind well know. 

No engineer could afford for one moment to be 
hi such ignorance of his engines as we are of 
our bodies ; though the engine is a much simpler 
machine than the body ; and yet we will take 
care to advocate no detailed introspection here ; 
for the essence of health consists in knowing our 
duty and doing it, and not in interfering with 
machinery we do not understand. The fact is, 
I (the ego) am not the engineer down below, 
looking after the machinery, but the captain 
on deck, directing and navigating the vessel. 
In other words, the conscious mind uses and 
directs the life that the unconscious mind main- 
tains and produces. 

A Self=protective Organism. Our 
organism, indeed 5 is largely self-protective, 
even against external injuries, though not so 
perfectly as hi animals : for we have reason as 
well as instinct to guide us, and are expected to 
use it. 

Still, as a rule we may safely trust the un- 
conscious mind to govern the body aright, and 
may generally follow our healthy instincts as to 
food, cloth big, surroundings, &c. 

Interference by the conscious mind in personal 
health, if frequent, tends to hinder it, not to 
promote it. I shall point out in detail when 
to interfere and when not at present I only sav 
that the policy of non-interference is the path 
of health. 

In saying this, even in general terms, it must 
be understood that there is a wise inspection of 
oneself and a wise carefulness as well as careless- 
ness. To know one's weak points, whether of 
heredity or habits, and to act accordingly, makes 
a strong man, not a weak one. 



Continued 



2,f4 



BORING FOR MINERALS 


Group 14 

MINING 


Proving- Deposits. Percussive and Rotary Boring : the 
Tools Employed and their Use upon Different Deposits 


3 

Continued from 
page 2589 



By D. A. LOUIS 



VV7E may first consider the mode of proving a 
well- exposed deposit, such as a granite bluff, 
or a face of stone or good outcrop of ore. Various 
places would be selected as the result of a good 
inspection of the deposit, and by any con- 
venient means, such as pick and shovel, crow- 
bar, jumper, gad and hammer, or drills and 
blasting, a quantity of the material would be 
broken down at each place and thoroughly 
examined for desirable properties. The freshly 
exposed surfaces would also be closely inspected 
to see if the material maintained a favourable 
character, and if all were found satisfactory at 
several points in the deposit, the proper pre- 
parations would then be made for the quarrying 
or mining operations, and the money required 
could be safely appropriated for the purpose. 

Proving Alluvial Deposits. An alluvial 
deposit at the surface would be tested by 
digging holes in several places and by ex- 
amining the material excavated to see if it 
were suitable for the purpose required, whether 
for brickmaking, sand pits, gravel pits, gold, 
gems, or what not. In the case of gold the 
pan would be used for testing purposes. Careful 
records would be kept of the material from each 
hole, the relative positions of which would be 
ascertained by the measure and compass, or 
by a proper survey, and marked on a plan. The 
material on bed-rock, especially of a gold 
placer, would be more particularly examined, 
as there the greater quantity of the gold would 
be accumulated. The material containing the 
gold, etc., is known as pay dirt. If the depth of 
the deposit were very great, boring might be 
resorted to or even shafts sunk and galleries 
driven in the deposit ; and only after the material 
sought had been found in good quantity so as 
to pay for the expense of development and more 
would more extensive operations be contem- 
plated. Nevertheless, at this stage such 
simple appliances as the cradle or Long Tom 
might be introduced. 

An alluvial deposit at the bottom of a river, 
lake, or swamp would be proved by dredging 
operations on a small scale in different parts 
of the deposit ; and, again, only when the results 
of those investigations justified it would more 
elaborate operations be contemplated. 

The Cradle. The cradle is a wooden box in 
some instances about 3 ft. long and about 18 in. 
wide and high. It is open in the front and closed 
at the back, where the stuff is charged in through 
a removable tray with a perforated sheet-iron 
bottom to retain the stones. Beneath the tray 
an inclined canvas apron is stretched so as to 
direct the stream of water and material towards 
the back of the cradle. Across the bottom 



from side to side, two bars, or riffles, about f in. 
thick, are nailed, one at the middle and one 
near the end. The bottom slopes down slightly 
towards the open end and the whole is supported 
on two transverse rockers which enable it to be 
rocked like a baby's cradle. The lighter material 
is washed away, while the heavier material, 
or at least some of it, remains in the bottom, 
especially behind the riffles, and is collected 
and panned. 

The Long Tom. The Long Tom is a 
wooden trough about 12 ft. long and 2 ft. wide 
at the head, and gradually widening towards 
the other end, which is closed by a plate of 
perforated sheet-iron to stop the stones ; below 
this is fixed an inclined wooden box with 
transverse riffles, behind which the heavier 
matter accumulates and can be further washed 
either in the pan or in the cradle first and then 
in the pan. 

Proving a Vein. The outcrop would 
have been examined by the prospector, but 
whoever undertakes the proving of a vein would 
carefully examine the outcrop himself, and have 
good large quantities broken down and tested, 
and, moreover, would sink pits down into the 
vein and, if possible, drive galleries from the 
side of a hill in or into it, and from these in- 
vestigations might judge whether further 
operations would be justified. It is not always 
possible to attack a vein in this way, as the 
outcrop, for instance, may be covered up. 

Trenching. Trenching is employed when 
the ground, or overburden, covering a vein is quite 
shallow. It consists in digging trenches at right 
angles to the presumed strike of the vein and 
thereby, if possible, exposing it to view. Then 
several similar and parallel cuttings are made at 
appropriate intervals, and other cuttings can 
also be made in. the direction of the strike 
until satisfactory evidence of the character of 
the vein at the top is obtained from an exami- 
nation of the excavated material. 

Costeaning. Costeaning is frequently 
resorted to for the purpose of proving veins. 
Vertical pits are sunk in each side of the supposed 
position of the vein or veins, and an underground 
communication is made between these opposed pits 
which, if the position has been judged correctly, 
will cut through the vein, and its character 
and contents can then be examined. Pits 
with communicating galleries may be multi- 
plied to any desirable extent. These pits are 
sunk, if the ground be soft, by means of 
picks and shovels and if they be required only 
a few feet deep the excavated soil can be thrown 
to the surface, erecting, if necessary, an inter- 
mediate platform or platforms, so as to throw 

2665 



MINING 



it up in stages. But for any 
a windlass is erected over the 
excavated material is drawn to the surface by 
means of a rope and bucket. It is usually 
necessary to prevent loose material falling from 
the sides of the pit, and to do this, wooden lining 
i- | nit in ; this may consist of frames made of 
notched timber to fit the shaft, and kept any 
required distance apart by means of struts 
called Muddles. They are held in position by 
supports driven into the walls of the shaft 
or by boards, or stringing deals, nailed from 
frame to frame in front ; laths or boards or 
faggots known as lagging are packed behind 
the frames. As the ground becomes harder, 
jumpers or drills and explosives are used, 
and if the sides are of good solid rock further 
timbering may be unnecessary. Fig. 24, lent 
by Mr. R. E. Commans, exhibits the kind of 
surface arrangements for work of this 
kind. The windlass and bucket are shown 
and also a primitive sort of pump for 
dealing with water. To the left a man 
is shown working a small cradle. 

Galleries. The horizontal galleries 
to connect the pits are driven with similar 
appliances picks and shovels, gads and 
hammers, or drills and explosives, as the 
case may be. If the ground be loose it 
has to be timbered. Here, again, a 
framework is erected at intervals and 
lagging packed in overhead and up the 
sides The parts of the frames are known 
as the cap, the legs, and sole piece; 
when the ground is weak all round, all 
are required ; when the ground in parts 
or all over is strong enough to stand, 
one or more of the parts or the whole 
lot may be dispensed with. A wheel- 
barrow running on a plank is used to 
convey the broken material to the bottom 
of the shaft. 

Beds and seams may also be ex- 
amined for useful deposits in a similar 
manner by driving trial tunnels or head- 
ings in the way described ; or by sinking 
trial plts or shafts along the outcrop 

Useful Deposits. Any deposit 
whether vein, mass, or bed, is considered 
useful when it contains marketable 
mineral m sufficient quantity and under 

horn the" t und Uld " ^ rem * 

su W o2d to ei exi deP SitS r maSSeS are 

fegteHH"" 



reater depth .. is reached, its depth below ground is also ascer- 
ble and the : tained by measuring the depth of the hole. 

Boring. Boring is an important adjunct to 
mining. It consists in making a long hole in the 
ground with suitable implements. This hole may 
be made in solid rock by a process similar to 
drilling that is, by giving blows on the bottom 
of the hole and so chipping away the rock and 
clearing out the broken stuff from time to time ; 
this is percussive boring. A hole may also be 
bored in solid rock by means of cutters set in 
a ring, which, when given a rotary motion, make 
an annular cut in the rock, leaving a column 
of rock standing in the centre of the hole ; this 
column of rock is called the core, which is broken 
off and brought to the surface. This is rotary 
boring, and a variant on this is used for pene- 
trating plastic material, for which purpose an 
auger-like implement is used ; but, for penetrating 




23. PERCT BORING 



character of the materials that d S or rod wJench V i Wo^ ff ^ b - oke 1 n rods or tools *3. Hand 



MINING 




loose surface 
material, a pipe fur- 
nished with a cutting 
edge is forced down 
into the ground, the 
material being 
cleared out from the 
inside of the pipe 
after every few feet 
of sinking. 

Holes may be 
bored any width, but 
large holes are costly, 
so for testing pur- 
poses holes are bored 
about an inch or two 
in diameter. A deep 
hole, one going 
1,000 ft. or more, 
would be made wider 
than one going only 
a few hundred feet 
or less. But holes 
have been bored up 
to many feet in dia- 
meter, under special 
circumstances, to 
which reference will 
be made later. 

Difficulties of Deep Boring. The 
depth of holes is restricted by cost and incon- 
veniences which make boring, with present-day 
appliances, at a depth a very slow and wearying 
job as well as expensive. The deepest hole in 
the world was put down by the Prussian Govern- 
ment at Paruschowitz in Silesia ; it reached a 
depth of 6,572 ft. in 399 days, the last 3 ft. 
taking three months of the time. It was started 
with a diameter of 12 in., and finished 2f in. in 
diameter ; the weight of the rods, in spite of 
their being made of steel, was 13f tons in fact, 
it was the breaking and jamming of the rods 
that brought the work to an end. It cost 3,761. 
More recently a hole has been bored near 
Pittsburg, in the United States, to a depth of 
6,000 ft., and over 6 in. in diameter, by the 
rope method in vogue in that country. The 
tools used were of the ordinary size, while 
two cables spliced together were employed 
to obtain the desired length and strength 
without undue weight. The lower cable was 
21 in. in diameter, and weighed 8,400 Ib. ; the 
upper cable 2J in. in diameter, and weighing 
5,600 Ib. The hole cost 8,000. These examples 
show that deep boring is a serious under- 
taking, and can be contemplated only for very 
urgent reasons. 

Uses of Boring. The uses of boring in 
mining are numerous, for, in addition to its 
applications in prospecting and for the purpose 
now under consideration that of proving a 
property it is frequently adopted for other pur- 
poses. For instance, boreholes are used as 
wells for obtaining water, petroleum, brine, 
mineral waters, etc. ; they are used to obtain 
gases, such as natural gas and carbonic acid 
gas They are used in mines, as vents for danger- 
ous gases, as a precaution against explosions, 



24. EXPLORATORY SHAFT IN AUSTRALIA 



to tap lodgments of water, and so prevent drown- 
ing the mine, to test the ground ahead, to search 
for faulted parts, to provide passages for con- 
veying signal wires and to transmit power by 
water, steam, wire -rope, or electricity under- 
ground ; to provide channels to convey below 
sand and water or cement grouting, etc., to fill 
up cavities left underground by the mining 
operations. Quite recently boreholes have 
proved invaluable for conveying air and food 
to, miners imprisoned underground by an 
accident. These are some of the applica- 
tions of boring which, moreover, has even 
been applied to shaft sinking. It is a vast 
and varied subject, but a good idea of 
it will be obtained from examples of small 
boring, medium boring, and large boring 
practice. 

Percussion Boring Tools. For per- 
cussive boring on a small scale for 50 ft. or so, 
the following equipment, selected from the list 
of Schram, Harker, & Co., would suffice. 

One set of ironwork for One bell screw 

wooden shear legs, con- Two lifting dogs 

sisting of top caps and Two hand dogs 

shackle, bottom spikes One pair of tillers 



and collars 
One 1 -sheave pulley block 
One 2 -sheave pulley block 
100 ft. best hemp rope 
One 4|-in. clay auger 
One 3j-in. clay auger 
One 4-in. shoe -nose shell 
One 3-in. shoe-nose shell 
One 4i-in. flat chisel 
One 3J-in. flat chisel 
One 4-in. T-chisel 
One 3^-in. T-chisel 
One worm auger 



One snatch block 

Five 10-ft. lengths square 

boring rods 
One top swivel rod 
One spring hook, with 

30 ft. of rope 
One auger board 
One auger clearer 
Two pairs casing tube 

clambs 

One steel driving shoe 
One driving cap 
One 200-lb. monkey 



Most of these are illustrated in the group of 
tools [23]. 

2667 



MINING 

The Use of the Tools. A suitable site 
is selected for the borehole, the ground made 
level, and a derrick or shear legs with windlass 
below and a pulley at the top is erected [25]. A 
rope from the windlass passes over the pulley, 
and by means of a spring hook a swivel or 
swivel -top rod serves for manipulating the tools. 

The method adopted for boring is as follows : 
In soft ground a clay auger is first used, for 
which purpose the tillers are fitted to the 
square shank, and slowly revolved, care being 
used to keep it in a perfectly vertical position. 
When the auger is full, it is withdrawn and 
the contents cleared out, and the operation 
repeated to the depth of a few feet. The steel 
cutting shoe is then screwed to the bottom of one 
length of casing tube, the driving cap screwed to 
the top end, and the tube lowered into 
the hole in a perfectly upright position. 
The driving monkey [26] is then attached 
to the rope coming from the top of the 
derrick, its stem passed through the 
driving cap ; it is caused by jerking up 
to rise and fall alternately, and drives 
the tube down the borehole. As it de- 
scends, a little extra rope is let out from 
time to time. As soon as the tube 
has been driven sufficiently far, the 
monkey is detached from the rope, the 
driving cap removed, and the next 
size clay auger is attached to a boring 
rod and put down the borehole. 

The operation is repeated 
until the firmness of the ground 
renders the rotary boring diffi- 
cult. A light steel chisel is 
then screwed to a sufficient 
length of boring rod, the swivel 
rod fixed on the top, and an 
up-and-down motion is im- 
parted to the tools-, which are 
also slightly turned by hand so as to strike in 
a different position at each stroke. While 
this is going on, water is poured down if 
necessary, and the debris converted into sludge, 
which is afterwards raised by a sludger pro- 
vided with a valve in the lower end for this 
purpose. This sludger is attached directly to the 
rope, or boring rods as the case may be and 
lowered to the bottom of the borehole. If the 
sludge be too thick to enter the sludger readily 
it is raised and dropped a few times, which 
ensures its being filled. When once filled it is 
raised as quickly as possible to avoid leakage 
Casing tubes are put down the hole until the 
rock is encountered, when it is generally un- 
necessary to line the hole further. 

The heavier chisels are used for the harder 

;k in the same way as the lighter ones are for 
clay, sufficient boring rods or a boring bar 
C njunction to give the necessary 



Steel boring rods and 
couplings for the speci- 
fied depths 

One crown set with best 
black diamonds 

One short core tube. 

One long core tube 

Two core lifters (or core 
catchers) 

Three core breakers 

Six spare unset crowns 

One sector rod grip, for 
raising or lowering 
rods 

One drill rod hoister, with 
improved ball clip 

One set of ironwork, for 
wooden shear legs 

One 2 - sheave pulley 
block 




25. BOEING SHEAR LEGS WITH 
WINDLASS 

The 



One 1 - sheave pulley 

block 

100 ft. hemp rope 
One swivel eye bolt to 

screw into boring rods 
One chuck for holding 
crown in vice when 
setting diamonds 
One bench vies 
One drill support 
One swing brace with two 

chucks 
Six drill bits, for use with 

above 

One hand vice 
One box cement 
One hack saw with two 
( blades 

One water pump, com- 
plete 

One press for making plunger leathers 
Two swivel connections to boring rods 
One water strainer for suction hose 
One suction hose, 15 ft. long, with brass 

connections 
One delivery hose, 30 ft. long, with brass 

connections 

One weight suspender, with weights 
Three pairs tongs for rods 
One set spanners 

One set tommy One screw hammer. 

keys One oil-can. 

Six assorted files One spirit level. 
Two pairs callipers One plumb bob and 
One hammer line. 

A suitable site is selected for the 
borehole, the ground is made level, 
and derrick, etc , put up. Strong 
timbers (both longitudinal and 
crosswise) are laid down, and to 
them the frame of machine is 
bolted, and any other means 
taken to give rigidity and to 
prevent any movement of the 
machine that would cause the 
borehole to get out of truth, 
rods A [27], core tube, and the diamond 



crown [28] are screwed togeth'er, and the crown 
and rods gently lowered until the crown rests on 
the surface of the ground ; the rod is not allowed 
to drop on to the rock, as this would shatter the 
diamonds. It is most important to bear in 
mind that, although a diamond is the hardest 
known substance, and will stand an almost 
unlimited amount of abrasion, yet a com- 
paratively slight blow will smash it. The crown 
is raised an inch off the ground, the machine 
slowly revolved and the boring rod got per- 
fectly into line. The water swivel is then 
screwed to the top of boring rod, and the 
hose B connected up to the pump C, water- 
tank, or other suitable water supply. 

Boring is started very gently until half an inch 
Has been bored, after which it is run more 
vigorously. In the illustration, D is a counter- 
balance to reduce the weight of the rods 
When the rack reaches its lowest point, 
additional lengths of boring rods are added as 
required. 

iguie, mounted on strong wrought-iron frarr i, 7 thd w the b <> ri ng rods from the bore- 

ith two fly-wheels, and the following ai II' ^ *t e C re tube is ful1 ' or for J other 

ng aCC6S - ason ' th * bpring rods are uncoupled between 

2668 the ear and the top of the borehole The 



weight 



Drilling on a Small Scale 

-arKers hand-power diamond boring equip! 
ment for this purpose comprises a portable 
engine, mounted on ~* 



\\ i 
sones 




26. DRIVING 
MONKEY 



water attachment, etc., disconnected, the rod 
grip is slipped over the lower rods down to the 
surface of the borehole ; the swivel eye bolt is 
screwed into the boring rods projecting from 
the borehole and the hoisting rope is attached. 
The rods are then raised and the successive 
lengths uncoupled, the rod grip 
preventing the rods from falling 
back into the borehole. 

When the core tube reaches 
the surface it is emptied of its 
contents, the diamond crown is 
inspected, and any loose stones 
caulked up [28]. The stones 
appear as black spots in the 
figure. 

These appliances are gene- 
rally worked by hand, and serve 
for exploratory work. 

Extended Boring 
Operations. Boring opera- 
tions on a larger scale are also 
either percussive or rotary. 
The former is done either with 
the cutter at the end of a con- 
tinuous line of rods, or with 
a string of tools at the end of a rope ; the 
latter is done with a diamond crown or with a 
steel crown provided with cutting teeth very 
much in the same manner as 
in the case of exploratory core 
boring. 

Percussive Boring with 
Rods. The tools used in this 
operation are similar to those 
used in the smaller 
operations : chisels, 
rods, bracehead or 
tiller, augers, slud- 
gers, keys for screw- 
ing and holding the 
rods, tubes for lining, 
and several tools for 
dressing the side of 
the boreholes, and 
for extracting ob- 
structions such as 
broken rods. 

Chisels are made 
of the best steel, flat 
ones with straight 
cutting edges being 

btl ther C sC]S 27 ' BARKER'S HAND-POWER DIAMOND BORING MACHINE 

edges such as V and T are used to suit certain 

rocks. They vary in size to suit circumstances, 

18 to 24 in. length, 1 or 2 in. thick, and 2 in., 

3 in., or 4 in. face being ordinary dimensions. 

They taper towards the top, terminating with 

a shoulder or boss and a screw. Rods are 

sometimes of wood, but usually of the best 

wrought iron, an inch square being a common 

size ; they are made in lengths of from 18 in. 

up to 20 or more feet, and in all cases they 

terminate with shoulders provided with a screw 

socket at one end and a projecting screw at 

tiie other, so as to enable them to be screwed 

together to form a continuous line of rod. 




MINING 

The lowest rod is attached to the chisel and 
the uppermost rod to the arrangement known 
as the bracehead, which consists of a short length 
of rod, with a socket at the top, into which four 
horizontal wooden arms fit, and at the top of the 
bracehead there is a swivel. The tiller replaces 
the bracehead as holes deepen, or sometimes 
altogether. And between the bracehead or tiller 
and the lever or spring pole there is an arrange- 
ment which will allow the chisel to progress 
downwards without perpetually stopping to put 
in fresh lengths of rod ; and this arrangement 
is the stirrup, which consists of a bridle of iron 
with a long screw working in it. 

The Derrick. In accordance with the 
magnitude of the contemplated opera- 
tions the derrick may vary from a 
simple "three-legs" consisting of three 
poles tied together at the top and 
spreading out over a triangular area 
at the base [30] up to a frame tower 
50, 60, 70, or even more feet high. 
The higher the tower the longer the 
sections of rod that can be dealt with 
during the drawing up or letting down 
of the tools. The derrick is provided 
at the top with a pulley over which a 
rope passes used in winding up the 
tools ; there is also a guide for the 
rods. For winding purposes in 
small work, a hand windlass 
suffices ; for larger work a drum 
driven by an engine is required. 
To give the necessary blow 
the chisel has to be lifted up 
and down, which, in the early 
stages, is done by hand, while 
for moderate depths 
the spring pole 
suffices. The spring 
pole consists of a long 
pole fixed to the 
ground at one end, 
resting on a fulcrum 
about one-third the 
whole length from the 
end, while the other 
end is free and fur- 
nished with a hook. 
The diagram [29] 
shows a spring pole 
at work, B the tiller, 
or bracehead, C the 
stirrup, D the wind- 
lass. A pit as shown is frequently used in 
boring to give more headway, and to protect 
the workers. In more extensive borings the 
spring pole is replaced by a rocking lever or 
walking beam, the 
tools, etc., being 
attached to the 
shorter arm, while 
the other arm gets 
a vertical recipro- 
cating motion from 
an eccentric or 
even an engine. 
The operation of 

2669 




28. BORING CROWN SET 
WITH DIAMONDS 



MINING 

boring on the larger scak is very like that 
,ly described, but a wooden platform some 
tr\v feet square is laid on the ground with a 
hole bored in the centre for the rods to pass 
tin.. ugh into the borehole, or a guide block ot 
heavy timber is fixed at the 
surface. 

To bore through soft, loose 
ground, a pipe, fur- 
nished with a cut- 
ting edge, and 
called a drive pipe, 
is used. It is driven 
into the ground by 
letting a heavy 
block fall on it, 
while a second pipe 
of smaller diameter is lowered within 
the other, through which a strong 
stream of water is passed, to stir 
up the loose material near the 
cutting edge and carry it to the sur- 
face. Usually, however, some more 
serious operation is demanded, and 
the place of the drive pipe is taken 
by a guide pipe, of iron or of wood, 
which is driven down 6 ft. or 9 ft., 
and has a hole of the same diameter 
as the borehole. Fig. 33 shows a 
method of driving with the ordi- 
nary tackle. The maul is attached to 
a length of rope, and works in guides, 
not shown, and is caused to rise 




29. BORING TACKLE WITH 
SPRING POLE 



elasticity doing the work of lifting the rods and 
chisel. After each stroke, the workmen at the 
bracehead still give a turn of about one-eighth 
of a circle to obtain a round hole by making the 
chisel hit a different place each successive time. 
The swivel enables this to be done, and the 
operation progresses in this way until the bridle 
has come to the end of the screw of the stirrup, 
when a stoppage 
is made to put in 
a suitable length of 
rod between the 
bracehead and tlu* 
top rod and to rim 
up the screw. Then 
the operation is 
continued until the 
bottom of the hole gets choked 
with rock fragments. 

Removing the Broken 
Stuff. The boring is then 
stopped, the bracehead, etc., un- 
screwed, the rope from the wind- 
lass or winding arrangement run 
down and hooked to a cap pro- 
vided with a ring and screwed 
into the top rod ; or a dog or claw, 
which is passed under the shoulder 
of the rod, is used instead. As 
great a section of rod as the 
height of the derrick will permit 
is drawn up by the windlass, the 
cover of the guide pipe is closed, 
and the shoulder of the last rod 
that has passed through is allowed to rest on 
this cover or the fork thrust over the cover ; 
then the upper lengths of rod are unscrewed 
in one long section and stacked out of the way. 
These operations are continued until the 



and fall and strike the pipe by means 
of the connection with the crank B attached to 
a pulley. The drive pipe is fixed truly vertical, 
and is provided at the top with iron shutters 
turning around pins so that they can be moved 
away when required. They have a square 

hole in them over the centre of the hole fl ft chisel comes to the surface ; it is in its turn 

to allow the passage of the rod. The n \\ removed and replaced by a sand- pump or 

shutters prevent anything falling into the n \\ sludger, which is lowered down into the hole 

hole, and also they supply a rest for the // \\ by reversing the operations of unscrewing and 

rods while they are being unscrewed, // \\ raising the rods. The sludger consists of 

although usually a fork or &/ is employed // \\ an open iron cylinder, closed at the 

for the purpose. // \\ bottom by a valve opening upwards, 

Boring in Hard Ground. A // \\ while the sand-pump has, in addition, 

couple of men screw the chisel to the // \\ a piston and rod. It is vigorously jerked 

end of a short rod, and, putting it // \\ U p and down in the bottom of the hole, 

through the guide pipe, strike on the // \\ by which means the fragments of chipped 

ground, turning it round between each // \\ roc k are caused to enter the cylinder, 

When half a yard is tried, the // \\ i n which they are retained by the 

n \\ valve. When the sludger or sand- 

// \\ pump has collected the waste, it is 

// \\ raised to the surface and emptied, the 

// \\ chisel again screwed on and lowered 



blow. 

bracehead is put on'to enable them 
to lift and turn the rods more easily. 
They take off short rods and substi- 
tute long ones, then adding short 



!S?'J!l5 a ? am ? ubstitut i n g , ev ery // \\ down to do its chipping in the usual 

// \\ way. The contents of the sludger 

// \\ are carefully examined each time, 

T ^ note being taken of the character of 

30. LIGHT WOODEN the rock > the occurrence of fragments 
BORING DERRICK of f o ssi ls and minerals, and particu- 
larly the presence of any useful 
minerals, all observations being recorded along 
with the depths to which they refer. 

Weight of the Rods. In deep boreholes, 
the jar caused by the weight of the falling column 
of rods becomes a very serious matter, liable 



V^TL 80 as to keep the brace - 
head at the most convenient height 

llmg. When the length of 
rods gets too great for three or four 
men to lift with ease, the spring pole, 
rocking lever, or other means of 
balancing the weight is brought into requisition 
along with the stirrup. These all being in adjust- 
ment, the rocking lever is set to work giving a 
blow each down stroke of the short arm, or the 
spring pole is pressed down to give the blow, its 
2670 



MINING 




to lead to fracture ; hence, hollow rods have 
at times been used to reduce this weight, but 
have been found expensive. Wooden rods, for 
the same reason, have enjoyed a great vogue 
in Canada and in Galicia. They are larger 
2 in. or 3 in. square, and 20 ft. to 30 ft. long 
than iron rods ; they are specifically lighter ; they 
displace more water in a wet borehole, and 
greatly reduce the falling weight and liability to 
fracture. Wooden rods are particularly applic- 
able where iron rods are not easily obtained. 
Generally, however, what is known as a free- 
fall appliance is interposed between the upper 
line of rod and a lower section to which the 
chisel is attached. Some of these appliances 
at the commencement of the 
down-stroke of the rods release 
the section of rod with the 
chisel attached, which falls 
rapidly by gravity, and gives 
the blow without any shock to 
the upper line of rod, which 
follows at a less rapid rate, 
reaches the fallen section, and 
at the commencement of the 
up-stroke grips it so that 
it follows up until re- 
leased by the reversal of 
the stroke. 

Free=fall Ap= 
pliances. Fig. 32 
shows Arrault's free- 
f a 1 1 arrangement. 
The chisel is sus- 
pended from the 
catch H. The catch 
J is supported 
on a pin in an 
oval hole. On the up-stroke 
the rocking lever strikes a 
bumping-piece and stops sud- 
denly with the rods, but inertia 
causes the catch J to con- 
tinue its upward movement; 
it strikes an inclined surface 
L and releases H, which with 
the chisel falls ahead of the 
rest of the rods, but H hooks 
31. itself on again as soon as J 

KIND'S FREE reaches it. Kind's free-fall 
FALL APPLIANCE arrangement is shown in 31. 
The lower length of the rods 
with the chisel is attached to K, at which it 
is gripped by the jaws I. These are pivoted 
at 1, and by means of links at H and a rod are 





32. FREE FALLING TOOL LIBERATED BY REACTION 

connected at the sliding disc G. The latter 
is held down by the water in the hole while 
the main rods are ascending, but as soon as the 
stroke is reversed it is lifted by the resistance 
of the water, opens the jaws J, and releases 
the chisel, which makes its blow without 
shock to the column of rods, and the jaws 
easily pick K up again. 

The sliding joint is used to achieve the 
same object. It consists of a 
bridle and collar, and is inter- 
posed in the line of rod ; the 
whole line rises together, the 
shoulder of the top rod of the 
lower section resting on the collar, 
and also falls together until the 

OF DRIVING chigel an( j itg g j tion ig arregted 



AND p IPE 



by striking the bottom of the hole, 
but without any shock to the upper part, 
which continues the down stroke, inasmuch as 
the collar slides over the stationary lower rods 
until progress is arrested by an elastic stop 
placed beneath the rocking lever at the sur- 
face. On the up-stroke, the movement of the 
collar is reversed, and on reaching the shoulder 
it picks up the striking section of rod again. 
There are, however, many patterns of free- 
fall appliances, and their use has greatly re- 
duced accidents due to fractures of the rods. 
But obviously the best way of eliminating the 
weight and other inconveniences of the rods 
is to use something else, and when conditions 
are favourable this is done by the use of a 
rope, which, moreover, works well in regular 
country. 



Continued 



2671 



Group 17 

APPLIED 

EDUCATION 

8 

(. 'out i imc<i from 
page 2550 



THE USE OF TIME 

Arrangement of the Working Day. Recreation and Amuse- 
ments. Nervous Force Economised by Habit. Time and Brain 



By HAROLD BEGBIE 



IT is now pretty generally recognised among 
medical men that the day divides itself 
into three parts naturally suited to: (1) Mental 
labour ; (2) physical recreation ; (3) light 
amusements. The morning is recognised as the 
natural period for mental labour, the afternoon 
as the natural period for physical recreation, 
and the evening as the natural period for light 
amusement. 

Without some such general plan as this, it is 
difficult to see how a man can effect that economy 
of time which is the beginning of wisdom in 
earthly business. There must be some broad 
and general principle in the matter. 

Morning the Time for Mental 
Work. " From the time when I was old enough 
to feel rationally accountable for the use of time 
and the economy of mental power," writes an 
American author, " it has been my custom to 
devote the early part of every day say, from 
eight or nine o'clock till one or two o'clock 
to serious mental work. The afternoon was given 
to exercise, recreation, and social intercourse. 
No severe employment of the brain was pursued 
late at night or far into the evening. Not 
half a dozen times in my life have I studied or 
toiled till midnight. In order that sleep might 
be quiet and refreshing, the brain was allowed 
to cool, and the blood encouraged to circulate 
evenly through the frame." 

It is essential to remember that the brain 
is unable to bear any severe strain immediately 
after a meal. The blood, which is required at 
such a time to do the difficult and most important 
labour of digesting food, cannot at the same 
time quicken the cells of the brain to nervous 
activity. It is therefore necessary so to arrange 
the order of one's life that the chief work of 
the brain may fall at a time of the day when the 
body is least clogged with food. 

Given such a general principle as we have 
referred to, the matter of the management of 
time presents itself in a fashion easier of appre- 
hens,on. The question then becomes: How 
80 . r . der > first my study, then my recrea- 
tion and then my amusements, as to get the 

Kstude t them -l n the tlme at m ? dis Posal1 
e student is, as it were, able to deal with his 
time by compartments. 

The Careful Planning of Work As 
perceives that in devoti the 

* 



soon as he 



this end, the student will be mrti 
^ interru Pons. One o f he 



half of a morning's work contains usually twice 
as much virtue as the first. It will, therefore, 
be seen that any check in the momentum of the 
brain, any interruption of the flow of the 
machinery, means not only a loss of time 
during the enactment erf the interruption, but 
a very considerable loss of time in once more 
"getting up steam." Time is saved by pro- 
tecting it from filchers and pilferers. The chief 
pilferers are the scarce noticeable interruptions 
of a normal household. The student must, 
of course, so arrange his studies as to suffer as 
little as possible in loss of time by going from 
one particular study to another. It will be 
found that one study helps another, and that 
it flows naturally on with something of the 
same interest into another, and in these cases 
time is saved by arranging for these studies 
to run successively. For instance, the brain 
can take up the threads of history with greater 
ease after dropping the threads of literature 
than after dropping the threads of mathematics. 
The Thieves of Time. Much time 
is wasted in unsuitable recreations. Many 
people believe that any game is good enough 
for physical recreation, and take no trouble 
in their selection. A little thought, however, 
will soon convince the inquirer that there are 
certain forms of exercise which suit him far 
better than others that is to say, particular 
exercises after which he feels a keen refreshment 
of mind and body. To play an arduous game, 
irrespective of its effect upon the mind and body, 
in the simple faith that any exercise must be 
beneficial, is seriously to waste time. The 
game which exhausts the mind is as bad as the 
study which tires the brain, and the game 
which educates no virtue and brings no useful 
quality into action, is a thief of time. Every 
game should contribute to the joy and spring 
of existence. 

In no other division of his day is a man so likely 
to waste time as that which he sets apart for light 
amusements and social intercourse. A contem- 
plation of the subject suggests a volume rather 
than a paragraph, and we can only afford to 
name a few heads under which the reader will 
see for himself how easily time can be wasted- 
frivolous conversations, inane plays, stupid 
music, senseless parties, trivial games, meaning- 
less hobbies. When it is remembered that 
nervous energy can be as greatly exhausted 
by a stupid conversation as by an absurd game, 
and when it is remembered that the condition of 
tne atmosphere in most places of amusement 
is an active consumer of force paralysing 
effort on the following day-it will be seen how 
very easily time may be wasted in an innocent 



but thoughtless manner. Mr. John Morley has 
said that he does not mind wasting his time, 
but he resents having his time wasted for him. 
Most people in their amusements submit them- 
selves placidly to this latter process. 

Wasted Force. A good conversation is a 
mental tonic ; a foolish conversation is a poison. 
The chief consideration in this matter is nervous 
energy. Each man is supplied with a certain 
amount of this force, and how he utilises it is to 
all intents and purposes synonymous with his 
use of time. He may either employ his nervous 
energy wisely and scientifically, getting out of 
himself all that is possible, or he may fritter 
and gamble away this priceless energy, losing 
every opportunity for his personal advantage. 
A consideration of this nature ought to be 
sufficient warning for those who sing, dance, 
laugh, and play strenuously, believing that so 
long as one is making a great noise, and growing 
thoroughly excited, the body is refreshing 
itself in a brilliant fashion. It is also a warning 
for those who believe that they can put an 
extraordinary amount of energy into some 
serious undertaking on one day, and not suffer . 
for it on the next. The use of this energy 
is the first step in the management of time. 

But before considering how he shall divide up 
his time, and by what persuasions he shall be 
guided in his selection of employments, it is 
necessary for the student to have clear cut and 
certain before his eyes the final objective of his 
existence. At the root of how much unhappiness, 
defeat, and misery is the aimlessness of con- 
science ? To have no definite aim, to keep 
before one no certain goal, to cherish in one's 
heart no absolute and crowning ideal, is infallibly 
to botch the business of life. 

To What End are We Moving? It 
is not enough for a student to know that the 
reason for his studies is triumph in a particular 
examination, not even to be assured that his 
studies are inspired by the pure pleasure of 
knowledge ; no, he must have a reason beyond 
these reasons, the ultimate and determining 
reason the object of his existence. He has 
before him an uncertain number of hours, with 
death certain at the end. An examination is 
merely a mile-post, an employment is merely a 
means of transit, pleasures are but hobbies on 
the road. The question of questions is, Quo 
vadis ? To what final end is he struggling ? 

Happy is the man who perceives his object 
with clear eyes, for when once that central, that 
final, that all-embracing object is perceived, the 
management of time becomes an easy and a 
cheerful operation. Let us say that a man's 
object is religion that is to say, devotion to the 
Creator for love of Him, and the perfecting of 
himself for the benefit of the human race ; or 
that his object is wealth, the amassing of a vast 
fortune for the heirs that come after him 
whatever it be, the goal once apprehended and 
once greatly desired, everything is made to 
conform to its attainment. The day's work 
tends to that end, the day's relaxation, the life's 
hobbies. Acquaintances are made, friends are 
attained, solely to further the grand aim. Nothing 
C 28 G 



APPLIED EDUCATION 

is slipshod, nothing haphazard, nothing patch- 
work. Every fragment of the mosaic has its place 
in the scheme, every thread in the pattern its 
sympathy with the purpose. Not an hour is 
wasted, not a word thrown away ; his work, 
however harsh on the surface, is sweet to him 
because it is twisted to his purpose. The man 
knows what he is after, and by whatever paths 
he seeks it, and with whatever weapons en- 
deavours to capture it, strives for the object of 
his desire. His whole life is a unity, every hour 
a rhythmic movement, every minute a pulsation 
in the regularity of his purpose. 

Regularity the Master=Word. Regu- 
larity is the master-word in this matter. An 
American doctor says : " There should be regu- 
larity as regards the time of meals, the time and 
amount of action, the time and amount of sleep 
regularity in everything. It is very difficult 
indeed to obtain it. But there is in our nature 
more power than we know, and if we conform 
ourselves to the law of habit, things will soon 
go on without our meddling with them, and we 
come to be perfectly regular, although we 
perhaps had naturally a tendency quite the 
reverse." 

The law of habit is a most useful auxiliary 
in the management of time. To get by patient 
experiment a pattern day a day in which 
we work with ease and refresh ourselves without 
fatigue and to struggle to repeat that day 
again and again until its arrangement becomes 
with us a second law of Nature, is to become 
in the best sense of the phrase captains of our 
time and of ourselves. The habit of attending 
to trivial things, says Thoreau, can permanently 
damage the mind. Equally, the habit of attend- 
ing only to essential things can permanently 
benefit the mind. 

Use of Time is Use of Brain. " Amid 
all our speculative uncertainty," says Professor 
Tyndal, " there is one practical point as clear as 
the day namely, that the brightness and the use- 
fulness of life, as well as its darkness and disaster, 
depend to a great extent upon our own use or 
abuse of that miraculous organ, the brain." 

We make use of this quotation at the close 
of our remarks to emphasise that the use of 
time is in reality the use of the brain. 

Miss Frances Power Cobbe declared her faith 
that " for one woman whose health is injured 
by excessive study (that is, by study itself, not 
the baneful anxiety of examination superadded 
to study) there are hundreds whose health is 
deteriorated by want of wholesome mental 
exercise."' Wasted time is wasted mental energy, 
and wasted mental energy is wasted life. { 

Every man should learn to regard time as 
the regulator of his brain, and so set it as to 
secure for himself the most profitable and 
enjoyable study, the most refreshing and 
delightful exercises, and the keenest and least 
fatiguing amusements. As he regulates his 
time so will his brain act, and in the healthiness, 
the activity, the vigour, and the alertness of his 
brain lies the compass of his happiness and the 
bounds of his achievement. 
Continued 

2673 



Group 15 

HISTORY 
19 

Continued from 
page 2611 



GROWTH OF ENGLAND'S LIBERTIES 



By JUSTIN MCCARTHY 



\Y/E have followed the development of Eng- 
W land's history to the close of William the 
Conqueror's reign. William was succeeded in 
1087 by his third but second surviving son, 
another William, known as William Rufus. The 
late sovereign's eldest son was Robert, Duke of 
Normandy, but on the death of the Conqueror 
William Rufus was at once created King by 
the party then dominant in England. 

William Rufus. In those days the 
rigid rule of succession according to date of 
birth in a Royal family had not become such a 
settled institution as in a later age, and it was 
not unusual that on the death of a sovereign 
a younger son, even although not recommended 
by his father to the succession, should, if he had 
made himself popular, be raised to the throne. 
Many of the Norman nobles in England refused 
to accept the election of William Rufus, and 
rebelled against him in support of his elder 
brother Robert. Rufus appealed to the people 
to support him, and made them promises of 
liberal reforms, relief from over-taxation, relaxa- 
tion of the forest laws and mitigation of parts 
of the Feudal system, which bore heavily on the 
general population he conducted himself, in 
fact, much after the fashion of a modern can- 
didate for a seat in Parliament. 

The rebellion of the nobles proved a failure, 
and was suppressed, but William Rufus did not 
keep the liberal promises he had made in order 
to secure national support. 

Wars and Invasions. During his thirteen 
years' reign he engaged in many wars. He 
made war upon his brother Robert in Nor- 
mandy, but after fruitless warfare a peace was 
concluded, and the Duchy of Normandy was 
mortgaged to William. His reign saw several 
invasions of Northumbria by Malcolm, King 
of Scotland. Malcolm, who succeeded to the 
throne after the fall of Macbeth, seems to 
have been ambitious of extended power, for 
he invaded Northumbria more than once 
during the life of William the Conqueror. The 
boundaries of Britain and Scotland in the 
north of the one country and the south of the 
other were at that time not very clearly recog- 
nised, and Malcolm's attempts to spread his 
domain into North Britain were not events 
without precedent. William Rufus made three 
warlike expeditions into Wales, but failed in 
two of them. 

The reign of William Rufus was remarkable 
for its struggles against the Barons, who sup- 
ported the claims of Robert of Normandy 
over whom William triumphed in the end; 
and also for its struggles against some of the 
most powerful prelates of the Church, then the 

2674 



Church of Rome. His death remains one of 
our historical mysteries. He was hunting in 
the New Forest in August, 1100, and there 
was killed by a wound from an arrow. There 
were at the time none qf his courtiers or com- 
panions about him; he had ridden far into a 
glade of the forest, and there his dead body waa 
found by some peasants with the arrow still 
sticking in the wound. Two stories were in 
circulation as to the cause of his death one that 
the arrow shot was an accident in a forest then 
ridden over by many hunters ; the other that he 
was done to death by an enemy. His remains 
were laid to rest in Winchester Cathedral. 

The Crusades. At the time of Rufus's 
death his elder brother Robert was on his way 
home to England from the Holy Land, where 
he had taken part in the first Crusade. The 
Crusades were then occupying the attention of 
Europe and Asia, and, indeed, of all that part 
of the world which knew, enough of passing 
events to take any interest in the movements 
of armies. The object of the Crusades was to 
drive the infidels from Jerusalem and take 
possession of the Holy Land. Jerusalem waa 
then held by the Saracens, and the Crusades 
had been originated by Peter Gautier, called 
the Hermit, who, after long sojourn in Palestine, 
had succeeded in prevailing on Pope Urban II. 
to promote a great movement for the expulsion 
of the infidels from the land where Christ had 
lived and taught the doctrines of Christianity. 
A council was held by Urban' s summons at 
Claremont in France ; the ambassadors of all 
the Christian sovereigns were present, and an 
appeal was made to Europe for a general war. 

The Crusades made an important epoch in 
history, in romance, and in poetry. They 
awakened the enthusiasm of all the Christian 
States and peoples, and for many years the great 
ambition of every rising soldier, whether the son 
of a reigning sovereign or of a lowly peasant, 
was to take part in the effort to recover for 
Christianity the possession of the Holy Land. 
For nearly two centuries the Crusades were 
maintained. Jerusalem was taken* and retaken 
by the Christians, and at length recaptured by 
the infidels. King Edward I. of England, 
when Prince Edward, took a part in the last 
Crusade. Finally the Soldan, the Saracen 
sovereign, gained the upper hand, and the 
Christians were driven out of Syria. 

The Growth of Popular Power. 
Robert of Normandy was returning from the 
first Crusade when the death of William Rufus 
took place. But in the meantime his younger 
brother, Henry, not only claimed, but actually 
insisted on, the succession as his own. The 



Barons strongly opposed this claim, and main- 
tained the rights of the Duke of Normandy, 
having in their minds the union of their lands 
on both sides of the Channel under the one ruler, 
who was to be Duke of Normandy and sovereign 
of England. The position taken up by the 
Barons had the immediate effect of drawing 
the English people to the support of Henry, 
for the desire of the great majority of the 
population was that England should be ruled 
on her own soil by her own King, and not by 
anyone who must still be considered as a 
foreign sovereign. The popular movement 
was successful. 

A Blow at Despotism. Henry was 
crowned King, and he at once set to work 
to introduce measures which should give his 
people a better share than they had ever had 
before in the government of the country. 
He issued a charter, which Mr. Green says " is 
important not merely as the direct precedent for 
the great charter of John, but as the first limita- 
tion which had been imposed on the despotism 
established by the Conquest." The despotism 
which William Rufus had imposed upon the 
Church was abolished, and the power which the 
Conqueror and his son had established, or 
endeavoured to establish over the Barons, was 
modified and mitigated so that the Barons were 
to be liable to certain contributions towards 
the maintenance of the sovereign's estate, 
but were no longer to be regarded as mere 
vassals of the Crown. The rights of the people, 
although not allowed to extend to what would 
now be considered as the rights of citizenship, 
were at least recognised as having some title 
to consideration, and the principle of citizenship 
was foreshadowed in the Royal Charter. The 
Barons' rights and privileges were also greatly 
modified ; their power of absolute mastery over 
their tenants and dependents, and of extract- 
ing unlimited contributions from them, were 
abolished, and in their place were set out more 
moderate and definite powers. This charter 
restored the constitution and the laws initiated 
by Edward the Confessor, and also established 
useful and popular reforms in the administra- 
tion of justice. 

The Story of Queen Matilda. Henry 
also made his position as the ruler of Great 
Britain more secure by his marriage with Matilda, 
daughter of Malcolm of Scotland and of Queen 
Margaret, who was herself descended from one 
of the earlier Royal families of England. This 
marriage showed that the King was desirous of 
proving his resolve that the claims of Scotland, 
as well as those of England, should be represented 
in the Royal family. Another reason made 
this marriage welcome to the English people. 
The new Queen had been brought up in a 
nunnery under the control of her aunt, who was 
its abbess, and this fact was, according to all 
ecclesiastical rule, an insurmountable obstacle 
to her becoming the wife of any man, king or 
subject. Matilda, however, declared that she 
had been sent into the convent when a child 
merely to save her from the military troubles 
overspreading the land ; that she had no desire , 



HISTORY 

to become a nun ; that she had refused again 
and again to take the veil, and had only given 
way at last to the orders and the physical com- 
pulsion of her aunt. 

Anselm, the famous Archbishop of Canter- 
bury, a distinguished philosopher and writer, 
was then at the head of the English Church. 
He had been expelled from England by William 
Rufus because he could not in conscience yield 
the rights of his Church to the demands of the 
sovereign. One of Henry's first acts had been 
to recall the Archbishop to his See. Anselm was 
appealed to in this struggle between Matilda and 
the authority of the abbess, and the former was 
summoned before his Court to plead her cause 
for herself. Matilda told her story with sincerity 
and deep emotion. Anselm, whose devotion to 
the rule of his Church was beyond all question, 
was devoted also to the cause of justice, and he 
felt satisfied that the Church never could recog- 
nise the arbitrary compulsion of a young girl 
to become a nun merely because a powerful 
relative and guardian insisted on the child's sub- 
mitting to her will. He declared the girl free 
from the bond of the conventual life, and at 
liberty to marry the King. The decree was 
popular among the mass of the English people, 
and was only disapproved by the Barons and 
some of the Churchmen. 

The Charter of Henry I. The charter 
of Henry I. was the first step towards the 
abolition of that merely despotic system which 
had prevailed during the reign of William the 
Conqueror, and in the years following, up to the 
time when Henry introduced his new constitu- 
tion. The towns increased after that event, and 
the townships, boroughs, and counties began 
to be marked out. The King's charter yielded 
to the towns something approaching to the right 
of self-government. The heavy Royal tolls 
imposed on trade were modified or abolished, and 
the operations of the civil law were deprived 
of their former despotic character, and made 
to depend on the principles of constitutional 
liberty so far as it had then been established, and 
not on the will of monarch or archbishop or 
baron. The creation of city corporations had 
not yet come into actuality, but it was already 
clearly foreshadowed, and it was becoming quite 
common in London and other great towns for the 
burgesses to convene large meetings under the 
presidency of their aldermen, and to agitate for 
the reforms needed for the growth of their 
commerce and the safety of their institutions. 
The spirit of reform was abroad, and a great 
improvement, too, was taking place in the rela- 
tions between Church and people. 

Invasion of Normandy. An attempt 
made by Robert of Normandy to recover 
his rights to the English throne only led to 
an invasion of Normandy by Henry in 1105, 
when Robert was completely defeated, and was. 
kept a prisoner for life. The troubles with 
Normandy interrupted the development of 
Henry's auspicious policy for England. These 
Norman troubles brought also a heavy calamity 
for the King. Henry's only son. William, whom 
he had declared to be the successor to the 

2675 



HISTORY 

throne, had with many English nobles, accom- 
panied him on his return from Normandy alter 
an attempt at settlement of the dispute there. 
The vessel in which William was sailing was tar 
behind the greater part of the Royal fleet, 
met with an accident, and Henry's only son was 
drowned. When the news reached the King he 
fell to the ground, and lay for some time un- 
conscious; and when he was restored to lite is 
said to have declared that he had come back to 
the living world never to smile again. The King 
had a daughter left Matilda now a widow, 
who had been married to Henry V., the Emperor 
of Germany. Henry declared her heir to his 
throne, although this seemed strange at the 
time, and was unwelcome to the feudal nobles, 
who could not readily accept the idea that a 
woman should be sovereign of a great monarch- 
ical State. Henry's life ended while he was in 
France, on December 1st, 1135, and there then 
arose the difficult question of the succession to 
the throne. 

London and the Throne. Quite unex- 
pectedly a claimant appeared who soon made him- 
self very popular. This was Earl Stephen, son of 
a daughter of the Conqueror, who had married a 
French nobleman of high estate. Stephen was 
the nephew of the late King, and had been 
brought up at the English Court. He was now 
the nearest male heir, save for his brother, and 
he had made himself much of a favourite, especi- 
ally in London, by his pleasant manner, his 
generosity, and even by his extravagance in 
spending money. He was born in 1105, and 
was sent over from Normandy in 1114 to the 
Court of King Henry. 

When Henry settled the crown upon his 
daughter, Stephen was one of those who accepted 
the arrangement, and pledged his fealty to the 
young princess. None the less did Stephen assert 
his own claim when the news of Henry's death 
reached him in Normandy He returned to 
England and presented himself in somewhat 
melodramatic fashion before the gates of London 
as claimant to the throne.. London responded to 
his appeal. Stephen had in his train no nobles, 
and no demonstration was made at any of the 
towns he passed on his way to the capital ; but 
London settled the question for him readily 
enough. The constitutional changes made 
by the late sovereign had given a new and 
commanding power to its citizens, and had 
indeed given to all the cities and towns in 
England an influence they had never before 
enjoyed. The public opinion of London had 
long counted for something in the election of a 
sovereign, but it now seemed to be supreme, and 
it maintained its supremacy. Neither nobles nor 
prelates made any display on the side of Stephen, 
but the citizens and their civic rulers gathered in 
immense numbers and unanimously declared 
Stephen King of England, and proclaimed their 
resolve to maintain their choice with money 
and men. Stephen tendered his oath that 
he would devote his life to the peace, the 
prosperity, and the good government of his 



dominions. He was crowned King of England 

in 1135. 

The Reign of Stephen. The reign of 
Stephen was from the first a contrast to its 
grandiose opening. He had promised peace, 
prosperity, and order, and nothing came of the 
promise but war, confusion, and disorder. He 
began by surrounding himself with bands of 
mercenary Flemish soldiers, and endeavoured to 
secure support by showering extravagant favours 
on some of the great English lords, whom he 
hoped to buy over. King David of Scotland 
invaded the North of England as champion of 
the claims of Matilda. He was defeated in his 
first battle at Northallerton in Yorkshire, but 
was able to retain possession of Cumberland. 
Stephen behaved with great violence towards 
the prelates who would not support his claims, 
and he thus had at once the clergy and the feudal 
barons as his opponents. Matilda encouraged, 
no doubt, by the condition into which Stephen 
had brought himself came over to England to 
assert her claims, and England was soon divided 
into two great rival camps the supporters of 
Matilda, who mainly held the West, and the 
champions of Stephen, who occupied for the 
most part the East and the metropolis. Stephen 
met with a severe defeat at Lincoln, and was 
for a time held prisoner by his enemies, while 
Matilda made her way to London. There she 
was not successful, however. Historians tell 
Us that her haughty manners and her too- 
confident self-assertion must sooner or later 
have put the people of the metropolis against 
her. She had to seek refuge in Oxford, and was 
there besieged by Stephen, who had succeeded in 
recovering his liberty and in gathering new forces. 
Matilda escaped from the besieged city, and 
lived for some years in obscurity, for the most 
part in Normandy. 

Influence of Thomas a Becket. 
Meanwhile the war in England was becoming a 
source of greater social distraction and misery. 
The Barons proved themselves ruthless in their 
actions against all who had striven against them. 
The first relief to this condition of bewilder- 
ment came from the efforts of Thomas a Becket. 
His mother was a woman of devout nature and 
maternal temperament, and his father was an 
influential man in the civic rule of London. 
Thomas was educated at the school of Merton, 
and afterwards went to the University of Paris, 
where he devoted himself principally to the study 
of theology. He afterwards entered the Church 
under the protection of Theobald, Archbishop of 
Canterbury. Before he received deacon's orders: 
he had fought in the wars like a gallant knight, 
and had shown himself of surpassing courage 
and chivalry. 

It was mainly through his efforts that the 
struggle between Stephen and his opponents 
was brought to a close. Stephen was recognised 
as King, and he agreed to accept Matilda's, 
son Henry as his heir. Stephen died at Dover 
in 1154, about a year after this peaceful succes- 
sion had been secured. 



Continued 



2676 



REPTILES 



Extinct Reptiles. Lizards. Chameleons. Poisonous and Non-Poisonous 
Snakes. Our Native Adder. Sea Serpents. The Cure for a Snake-bite 



Group 23 

NATURAL 
HISTORY 

19 

ZOOLOGY 

continued from 
page 2507 



By Professor J. R. AINSWORTH DAVIS 



DEPTILES are cold-blooded vertebrates, in 
*^ which the pure and impure blood poured 
into the heart are not kept entirely separate, 
as in birds and mammals. The limbs, when 
present, do not (in existing forms) raise the 
body far off the ground, for the elbows and knees 
are turned outwards ; five digits are typically 
present in either extremity. The body is 
covered with horny scales, and there may also 
be an armour of bony plates in the skin. All 
reptiles develop from hard or tough shelled 
eggs, which in a few cases are hatched within 
the body of the mother, but are more usually 
laid in some warm spot. The young, when they 
first make their appear- 
ance, resemble minia- 
ture adults, and have 
to shift for themselves. 

Extinct Reptiles. 
During the Secondary 
epoch reptiles were the 
dominant group of 
backboned animals on 
land, while some were 
adapted to a marine 
life, and in others the 
fore - limbs were con- 
verted into wings. By 
the beginning of the 
Tertiary epoch most of 
the reptilian orders had 
become extinct, unable, 
it would seem, to com- 
pete successfully with 
mammals and birds, 
their own improved re- 
latives. To these ex- 
tinct types a few words 
may be devoted. [For 
details see GEOLOGY.] 

Dinosaurs. The 
very large order of 
Dinosaurs i.e., " ter- 
rible reptiles " in- 
cluded a great variety 316 TIJATARA 
of forms, of which some 

were quite small, while others surpassed all 
existing land animals in dimensions. Some 
were vegetarians, others actively predaceous ; 
some lived on the dry land, others preferred 
swamps, fresh waters, or even the zone between 
tide marks. While most dinosaurs were quad- 
rupeds, some developed powerful hind limbs of 
disproportionate length, upon which they hopped 
or walked about. In such cases the adaptation 
to progression on two legs brought about certain 
structural resemblances to birds, but these do 
not indicate close affinities between the two 
groups. 




Monsters of the Sea and Air. Among 
the extinct marine reptiles the Ichthyosaurs 
("fish lizards") were large animals with 
fish-shaped bodies, paddle-like limbs, and long 
jaws, abundantly furnished with strong conical 
teeth. The large size of their eyes indicates 
that they were of nocturnal habit. The 
Plesiosaurs resembled the foregoing in general 
shape and in the character of their limbs, but 
the comparatively small head was borne on a 
long, flexible neck, which probably had much 
the same use as that of a swan, enabling its 
possessor to search for food under water 
without having to dive [see plate facing page 
2066]. Even more in- 
teresting than the above 
marine monsters were 
the extinct Pterosaurs 
("winged reptiles "), 
which hunted for their 
food in the air, and 
were of the most varied 
sizes. The skin was 
drawn out into a flying 
membrane, disposed 
very much like that of 
a bat. But while in 
the latter all four fingers 
are greatly elongated 
into slender supports 
for this membrane, only 
the little one was so 
modified in a pterosaur, 
and formed a strong 
jointed rod, by which 
the outer edge of the 
wing was strengthened. 
Hence, as already re- 
marked, no less than 
three totally distinct 
kinds of flying organs 
have been evolved by 
backboned animals 
that is to say, by bats, 
birds, and pterosaurs 
respectively. 

Although so many groups of reptiles have 
entirely died out, the class is still abundantly 
represented among existing backboned animals, 
and the recent species may be grouped into 
five orders i.e., (1) TTJATARAS (Rhynchocephala), 
(2) LIZARDS (Lacertilia), (3) SNAKES (Ophidia), 

(4) TURTLES AND TORTOISES (Chelonia), and 

(5) CROCODILES (Crocodilia). 

Tuataras. This group of reptiles was 
abundantly represented in the earlier part of the 
Secondary epoch, and corresponds in many 
ways to the stock from which reptiles in general 
have taken origin. It included a number of 

2677 



NATURAL HISTORY 

lizard-like forms, presenting many primitive 
characters, and now almost entirely extinct 
being represented only by the Tuatara (Hattena,) 
[3161 which lives on some small islands in the 
Bay of Plenty, New Zealand. It has only beer 
saved from extinction 
by the fact that New 
Zealand became isolated 
at an early date, so that 
better equipped forms 
have been to a very 
large extent kept out 
of these islands. 

Lizards. These 
may perhaps be de- 
scribed as the most 
average of existing 
reptiles, and have a very 
wide distribution. Four 
small species are native 
to Britain, and of these 
the little sand lizard 
(Laccrta agilis) may often 
be seen during the sum- 
mer basking in the sun 
on banks or scrubby 
slopes. As long, how- 
ever, as it remains 
motionless it is likely 
to escape observation, 
for its mottled-brownish 
skin harmonises with 
the surroundings, and 
affords a good example 
of protective coloura- 
tion. The little animal 
capable of very 




317. SPINE-TAILED LIZARD 

Photographed by Prof. B. H. Bentley 



under their toes, studded with peculiarly 
shaped hairs, and enabling their owners to 
scramble up a smooth wall with facility. 

A Quick=change Artist. Chameleons 
are proverbial for the way in which they rapidly 
change colour if placed 
among fresh surround- 
ings, so as to harmonise 
with them. This varia- 
ble general colouration 
is protective, because it 
makes the chameleon in- 
visible to its foes, and also 
aggressive, as the insect 
prey of the little lizard 
are thereby lulled into a 
sense of false security. 
The digits are bound 
together into two groups, 
and a tongs-like grasping 
organ of great efficiency 
is thus constituted. The 
chameleon is also notable 
for the relatively enor- 
mous distance to which 
it can suddenly shoot out 
its sticky elub-shaped 
tongue, for the purpose 
of seizing insects or other 
small creatures. Two 
stages in the process are 
shown in 320 and 321. 

Some lizards have 
become adapted to 
make their way through 
dense vegetation by the 
acquisition of an eel- 



rapid movement, darting quickly upon its prey, 
which consists of insects, worms, and other 
email creatures. 

Examination of a lizard or its skeleton 
[317 and 318] enables us to grasp very 
clearly some of the average characters of rep- 
tiles, such as the sprawling limbs and long 
tail. In many instances the last-named mem- 
ber plays an important part in protecting its 
owner from an untimely end, for it easily 
snaps across 
if suddenly 
seized by 
an enemy, 
and time 
may thus 
be afforded 
for escape. 
There is a 
weak place 
in the back- 




shaped form, and the reduction or even the com- 
plete loss of the limbs. Our harmless native 
blindworm (Anguis fragilis), often mistaken for a 
snake, is in reality one of the limbless lizards. 

Snakes. These reptiles are the most domi- 
nant existing representatives of their class, and are 
closely related to the lizards. They have under- 
gone the same kind of modification in shape and 
reduction in limbs just mentioned for certain 
members of that order. The limbs, in fact, 

have almost 
always en- 
tirely dis- 
appeared, 
except that 
in a few 
instances 
e.g., py- 
5 the 



318. SKELETON 



thons 
hind ones 

OP SPINE-TAILED LIZABD ape repre . 

bone which makes this curious procedure pos- sented by a pair of insignificant stumps, each of 

which terminates in a claw. 

How Snakes Glide. Upon the under- 
side of most snakes will be found a double 
series of large, horny shields, to which the ends 
of the very numerous ribs [326] are attached. 
By means of appropriate muscles the ribs can 
be moved so as to bring these shields forward, 
one after the other, the net result being a rapid 
gliding motion of progression. One may almost 



Some of the tropical lizards are of very con- 
siderable size, attaining a length of as much as 
6 ft., as in the iguanas [319] of America, some 
of which are esteemed as food. These are among 
the climbing members of the order, other 
examples being the geckoes and chameleons 
of the Old World, both of which are animals 
of small size. The former have curious pads 

2678 



weak the back of a snake 



be permitted to say that a snake walks on the 
ends of its ribs. At the same time the body 
undulates from side to side not up and down 
in a wriggling or writhing fashion. The extremely 
flexible backbone permits of this, but to guard 
against dislocation the vertebrae are connected 
by extra locking- joints, which only permit a 
certain amount of play. It is, however, com- 
paratively easy to brea 
by a sharp blow 
with a stick or 
whip, and a know- 
ledge of this fact 
has saved 
many lives 
in India 
and other 
countries 
invested by 
p o i sonous 
serpents. 
Many such 
creatures 
.can climb 
with faci- 
lity [327]. 
Snakes, 
Jikelizards, 
are very commonly 
coloured in such a 
way that they har- 
monise with their 
surroundings, this 

serving the double purpose above described. 
A good many poisonous forms, on the other 
hand, advertise their dangerous properties by 
brilliant hues and striking patterns. Such 
" warning colouration " is seen, for example, 
in the coral snakes of tropical America, 
which are marked with broad red rings, 
alternating with others of whitish tint, shading 
into black at the front and back of each 
ring. These coral snakes serve as models 




319. TUBERCULATED IGUANA 



NATURAL HISTORY 

skin or slough, a little knob remains at the end 
of the tail. A series of these loosely united 
together make up the " rattle," used for the 
production of warning sounds. The " hissing " 
of a snake has the same purpose. Venomous 
snakes also commonly assume a warning atti- 
tude, raising the front part of the body from 
the ground and, in some cases e.g., cobras 
inflating a kind of hood [324], in this particular 
instance bringing 
a black, spectacle- 
shaped mark into 
prominence. But 
in these 
and other 
animals it 
must not 
be sup- 
posed 
that the 
" warn- 
ing ' ' is 
for the 
benefit of 
the prey, 
, but may 
be taken 
as a hint 
to aggressive birds 
and mammals that 
discretion is the 
better part of 
valour. The suc- 
cess of this device is shown by the terror with 
which all monkeys regard serpents. The pro- 
duction of a toy snake in the monkey-house 
at the Zoo reduces all its inmates to a state 
of abject fear. We ourselves share with our 
" poor relations " this horror of animals which 
even now are responsible for a great deal of 
mortality among inhabitants of tropical regions. 
Abnormal Feeding Capacity. Snakes 
are essentially carnivorous, and with the excep- 






320-1. THE CHAMELEON 

which certain harmless forms unconsciously 
mimic, thus securing a . certain amount of 
immunity from attack by sailing under false 
colours. 

Snakes that Warn. In the American 
rattlesnakes, at each periodical casting of the 



AND ITS LONG TONGUE 

tion of some small, degenerate forms that 
pursue earthworms underground, are able 
to swallow animals which are very much 
larger than themselves ; this gluttonous pro- 
cedure often bringing its own punishment, 
for the state of lethargy which succeeds the 

2679 



NATURAL HISTORY 




322. GRASS-SNAKE AND SWALLOWED BAT 
Photographed by Prof. B. H. Bentley 

belting of a meal is, of course, a favourable 
moment for the onslaught of enemies. Feeding 
in this way is rendered possible by the extreme 
power of dilatation the body possesses, which 
is partly due to the absence of a breast-bone 
and shoulder-bones. The two bones of the 
lower jaw are not united, as usual, at. their tip, 
but merely connected by an elastic ligament, 
which easily stretches. To prevent choking 
during the tedious process of swallowing, the 
top of the windpipe is drawn out into a long 
cone, which temporarily protrude's from the 
side of the mouth. 322 represents a specimen 
of our native grass-snake which has swallowed 
a rat ; and the wall of 
the body has been cut 
open to show the head of 
the unfortunate victim. 

Non = Poisonous 
Forms. A large number 
of snakes are non -poison- 
ous, and these possess 
numerous conical back- 
wardly pointing teeth on 
the edges of the jaws and 
roof of the mouth which 
are of no use for chewing, 
but hold the prey firmly 
and prevent its escape. 
Our common native grass- 
snake (Tropidonotus natrix) 
[322 and 325] is a good 
example of such forms. 
It is particularly fond of 
the neighbourhood of 
streams, and is an expert 
swimmer. Its favourite 
food consists of frogs and 
fishes. Innocuous snakes 
also include the largest 
members of the order i.t., 
the b as [327] and pythons 
. * tropical America, which 
B. u. iieiiticy crush comparatively large 

2G80 




mammals into a 
shapeless mass, that 
is gradually swal- 
lowed after lubri- 
cation with the 
abundant saliva. 

Poisonous 
Forms. In poison- 
ous serpents some of 
the glands opening 
into the mouth 
secrete a poisonous 
fluid, which is in- 
troduced into the 
blood of a bitten 
victim. The largest 
amount of speciali- 
sation is found 
among the vipers, 
where the teeth are 
reduced to a pair 
of hollow " fangs " 
in the front of the 
upper jaw, and 
there are two large 
poison glands, one 
on either side of the 324. HAMADRYAD STRIKING 
head, giving it a 

characteristic resemblance to the ace of 
spades [323]. The mere shape of the head is, 
however, no certain test as to the poisonous or 
innocuous character of any given form. 

In a state of rest, when, the mouth is shut, 
the poison-fangs are pressed against the roof 
of the mouth, with their tips directed backwards. 
But when the snake opens its mouth and 
" strikes " [324] the fangs are rotated forward, 
so that their sharp tips can., be brought into 
action. The poison flows into the upper end 
of the tooth-canal and, in vipers, enters the 
wound by a small hole on the side of the tip. 
Were it at the end a blockage might result. 
We have, in fact, an anticipation of the device 
used in the construction of the needles employed 
with hypodermic syringes. 

It may be well to call attention to the exter- 
nal characteristics of our only native poisonous 




323. 



ADDER 

i.y prof. 




325. GRASS- SNAKE AND TWO YOUNG 
Photographed by Prof. B. H. Bentley 



NATURAL HISTORY 










326. SKELETON OF GRASS-SNAKE 



snake i.e., the adder (Pelias berus), which is a 
species of viper [323]. It is particularly common 
on sandy moorlands. Besides the spade-shaped 
head, note the dark, broad, zigzag stripe on the 
upper side of the body. 

The Cure for a Snake=bite. A 
venomous serpent is not poisoned by the absorp- 
tion of its own poison because its blood contains 
a complex " defensive proteid " which renders 
this harmless. It is fortunately possible to 
make an artificial extract of 
this substance for given 
species, which appears to be 
the only certain cure for the 
more virulent forms of bites. 

It may not be superfluous 
to remark that the forked 
tongue of a snake, which can 
be shot in and out with great 
rapidity, is not a " sting," 
but a very delicate organ of 
touch. It also possibly serves 
to attract the attention of 
victims by exerting a sort of 
hypnotic influence, the so- 
called "fascination." It is at 
least certain that small mam- 
mals and birds often seem as 
if they were paralysed on the 
approach of one of these 
insidious foes, and make no 
efforts to escape. 

Though naturalists do not 
know of any marine animal 
corresponding to the legendary 
"great sea-serpent," or kraken, 
a number of aquatic snakes, 
inhabit the Indian Ocean, 
though these are much too 
small to be the origin of the 
myth. Some of them have 
the tail flattened from side to 
side for use as a propeller, and 
all are extremely poisonous. 

An Egg=eating SnaKe. One kind of 
snake (Rachiodori) has discovered the nutritious 
properties of a diet consisting of birds' eggs, 




327. CLIMBING BOA 



and is possessed of a curious arrangement in 
connection with this. A tooth-like spine pro- 
jects into the throat from the under side of the 
backbone, and this acts as an egg-breaker, the 
contents of the egg being swallowed while the 
shell is ejected from the mouth. 

The hieroglyphics of the ancient Egyptians 
constituted a system of picture writing, in which 
the characters were outlines of various objects. 
One of these was a snake lurking in the desert 
sand, and distinguished by the 
presence of two little horns 
on the head. In course of 
time the cumbrous hiero- 
glyphics were simplified, and 
the drawing of the horned 

snake became V (*.e., 

the horns and body). By 
loss of the horizontal stroke 
our letter v has come into 
existence. 

The Wisdom of the 
Serpent. In correlation 
with the presence of a well- 
developed brain, snakes may 
be regarded as the most in- 
telligent of reptiles, though 
the idea of their " wisdom " 
probably took origin in their 
stealthy ways, and the curious 
" fascinating " powers already 
mentioned. They are among 
the numerous animals that 
have been the objects of 
superstitious worship. They 
are not difficult to tame, 
and certain kinds are domes- 
ticated in some countries for 
the purpose of keeping down 
the numbers of rats and similar 
pests. 

Some snakes incubate their 
eggs, and show a certain 
amount of affection for their 
offspring though they are far excelled by 
birds and mammals in this respect. 
Continued 



2681 



Group 10 

ELECTRICITY 
19 



Continued from 
page '2614 



NEW KINDS OF ELECTRIC LAMPS 

Nernst Lamp, Osmium Lamp, Tantalum Lamp, Mercury 
Vapour Lamps, Flame Arc Lamps, and Magnetite Lamp 



By Professor SILVANUS P. THOMPSON 



The Nernst Lamp, The circumstance 
that metal filaments, such as platinum wires, 
melt, and that carbon filaments, even when 
enclosed in a vacuous bulb, disintegrate if heated 
to a white heat, prevented the earlier kinds of 
glow lamps from being heated beyond a certain 
limited temperature, and therefore restricted 
their efficiency. The best carbon filament 
glow lamps, unless their life is to be very short, 
require at least 3| watts per candle power. To 
obtain a more efficient lamp some new departure 
was needed. 

Now, it had long been known that many solid 
bodies, such as glass and porcelain, which are 
insulators when cold, become conductors when 
hot. About the year 1898 it occurred to Pro- 
fessor Nernst, of Gottingen, to examine the 
properties of filaments of earthy bodies, such 
as pipe-clay, lime alumina, and zirconia. He 
found that these substances, if heated red-hot, 
conducted sufficiently well to admit a current 
which at once warmed them up to a white heat, 
and when so glowing they gave out a larger 
amount of light for a given amount of electric 
power than carbon filaments did. Thus began 
the Nernst lamp. 

Construction of the Nernst Lamp. 
To realise such a lamp it is necessary to provide 
arrangements for the preliminary heating of the 
filaments. This in turn necessitates some 
automatic device to switch the current off from 
the heater when the latter has done its work. 
Furthermore, since the resistance of the glowing 
filament goes down the hotter it gets, it is neces- 
sary to insert in series with it, to prevent it from 
taking too much current and destroying itself, an 
auxiliary or ballasting resistance made of some 
material which has the opposite property of 
increasing its resistance as it gets hotter. Such 
a ballast resistance is constituted by a thin iron 
Avire ; but as this would at once be destroyed 
by oxidation if open to the air, it must be enclosed 
in a vacuous glass enclosure. The glowing 
filament, on the contrary, must not be enclosed 
in a vacuum bulb, as access of air to it is essential. 
It is, for protection, enclosed in a small globe^ 
but this is not airtight. Figs. 188 to 192 depict 
the parts of a modern Nernst lamp. The switch 
device (192) is fixed inside the porcelain bayonet- 
piece D of 190, while the cage K is constructed to 
hold the ballasting resistance R. The glower Q 
and the heater H are constructed on a separate 
base, with three sleeves A. B, and C which are 
spaced out unsymmetrically, and which fit into 
corresponding pegs in the lower part of the 
The globe, which may be of various 
shapes, fits on the bottom rim of the cage bv a 
bayonet joint. The whole control of the lamp 
is effected by the electromagnetic device in the 

2GS2 



cap shown in 192. The scheme of connections 
has been added to this diagram, and it will be 
seen that when no current flows through the 
glower the spring is back and makes contact 
with the fixed stop S ; and so current can pass 
through the heater, but when the glower is hot 
and current flows, the spring is pulled away from 
S, and no current passes through the heater. 

The Osmium Lamp. As mentioned 
above, platinum wires are not suitable for the 
filaments of glow lamps, as they melt too readily. 
Accordingly, other metals have been sought, 
which should be less fusible. Dr. Auer von 
Welsbach proposed to use the very rare metal 
osmium. As osmium is much too hard to be drawn 
into a wire, he mixes finely divided osmium with 
certain organic matter to a paste, which is squeezed 
through a sapphire die into thin wires. These 
are first carbonised, and then reheated under 
a special treatment, which gets rid of the carbon 
and leaves a thin osmium wire polished like a 
silver thread. Such a filament when heated by 
passing electric current through it gives out) 
more light in proportion to radiant heat than i 
a black filament would do. It has, therefore, j 
a higher candle power per watt than the ordinary 
glow lamp. But the first cost of the lamp is [ 
higher, and there has hitherto been somed 
difficulty in producing osmium lamps for voltages 
over 100. The whiter light of the osmium lamp] 
is in its favour. 

The Tantalum Lamp. Other refractory || 
metals, such as tungsten or wolfram and tanta-j 
lum, have more recently been proposed, and| 
the tantalum lamp has been put on the market 
by Messrs. Siemens. The thin silvery -looking j 
tantalum wire is looped up and down inside the I 
lamp upon an internal framework, and presents! 
the appearance shown in 193. Like other metals| 
tantalum increases its resistance as it growsf 
hot, whereas the resistance of carbon de-j 
creases. Hence tantalum and osmium lamps 
are more steady in their light under a variable! 
voltage than carbon filament lamps. Their! 
average light is at least as great as that of the! 
ordinary glow lamp, and their globes do not} 
blacken as those of carbon glow lamps do as| 
they grow old. Therefore, in spite of theiij, 
present high cost, they present manifest! 
advantages. As the supply of the metal jj 
tantalum is not so limited as that of osmium.| 
tantalum lamps will probably become muctj 
cheaper. 

Mercury Vapour Lamp. In 1892 Aromjj 
devised a lamp in which mercury vapour was! 
rendered brilliantly luminous by the passagJ 
of a current through it, and in 1895 this lamjj 
was improved by Lummer, whose lamp is illusl 
trated in Fig. 194. A glass tube which formal 




188. HEATER AND 

GLOWER OF 
NERNST LAMP 





192. CUT- OUT COIL AND CON- 
NECTION OF NERNST LAMP 



190. 



OUTSIDE VIEW OF CAGE OF 
NERNST LAMP 




BALLASTING 
RESISTANCE OF 
NERNST LAMP 




195. THE HEWITT MERCURY VAPOUR 
LAMP 





194. LUMMER'S MERCURY 
VAPOUR LAMP 



196. ARC OF FLAME LAMP 



NEW VARIETIES OF ELECTRIC LAMPS 



2683 



ELECTRICITY 

a bridge across two other tubes filled with mercury 
was exhausted, leaving only mercury vapour, as 
in the partial vacuum at the top of a barometer. 
On passing a current through this lamp, a most 
intensely vivid green light fills the part of the 
tube where the current passes. Six years later 
Mr. P. C. Hewitt, of New York, brought out a 
similar vapour lamp, but with a much longer 
tube, the luminous column of vapour between 
the surfaces of the mercury being nearly 20 in. 
long, or even longer. 

With the mercury vapour lamp a difficulty 
arises in starting the electric discharge. To 
light the lamp Arons simply shook it, causing 
the two mercury columns to touch for a moment, 
and as they parted the light flashed out. In 
the Hewitt lamp the light is started either by 
tilting it, or by the momentary application of a 
higher electromotive force, such as the spark 
from a small induction coil. When this spark 
has once passed, the luminous column can be 
maintained glowing by an ordinary electro- 
motive force, such as 50 to 100 volts. A ballast 
resistance in series with the lamp is found advis- 
able. Vapour lamps give out very little heat, 
relative to their light, and in this sense they are 
very efficient. They are reputed to give 1*7 
candles per watt. 

A recent form of Hewitt lamp is shown 
in 195. It has but one mercury electrode 
the positive for it has been found possible to 
use as the negative electrode the same substances 
as are used in the glowers of Nernst lamps. 

Recently attempts have been made to 
mitigate the unpleasant effect of the green 
rays by use of a cadmium amalgam instead 
of pure mercury, as this material gives out red 
rays as well as green ones. 

The vapour lamps appear to be admirably 
adopted for external illumination, and a recent 
installation of these outside the " Tribune " 
Buildings, London, is giving every satisfaction. 

Flame Arc Lamps. It has long been 
known that by adding various chemical materials 
to the carbon rods of the ordinary arc lamp an 
arc is changed from one of dull blue to one of 
great luminosity. Every chemist knows that 
the salts of certain metals will impart colours 
to the non-luminous bunsen flame, and the 
same effect is produced in the carbon arc. 
Among the salts which are chiefly employed 
for this purpose are calcium fluoride and sodium 
fluoride ; the former of which imparts a brilliant 
brick-red tint, and the latter a bright yellow. 
By a combination of the two salts a very 
pleasing colour is obtained. The light from 
the flame arc lamp, therefore, comes mostly 
from the arc itself, and not from the incan- 
descent crater of the positive carbon [see 
page 2416]. In order to make a satisfactory 
lamp two things were found necessary. First, 
the arc had to be drawn out to a greater length, 
for which purpose a higher voltage was required ; 
and, secondly, in order to maintain a steady arc, 
the shape shown in 198 had to be adopted. As 
will be seen, the carbons are tilted to one another 
at about an angle of 30 degrees, and the arc is 



maintained in a steady bow by being blown out- 
wards by the action of an electromagnet [see 
page 1590]. To increase further the useful light 
from the arc, the carbons protrude through an 
inverted bowl constructed of some white fire- 
resisting material, and this reflects all the light 
in a downward direction. The flame arc gives 
off a certain amount of poisonous fumes, which 
renders it unsuitable for interior illumination 
unless the room is well ventilated. These fumes 
are also likely to affect the mechanism, so that 
in many kinds of flame lamp we find that an 
empty chamber about 4 in. or 6 in. high is pro- 
vided between the economiser bowl, as it is 
called, in which the arc fcurns, and the mechanism 
which regulates the striking of the arc and the 
feeding of the carbons. 

The Magnetite Arc. A type of flame 
lamp which has not yet been introduced into 
England is the magnetite arc. A great draw- 
back to the flame lamp just described is that the 
light is not white. It was known, -however, 
that the arc formed between iron rods had 
this property, and the problem was, how to 
produce this arc commercially ; for if metallic 
iron electrodes were used the arc would splutter, 
and molten metal simply drop away from the 
points of the rods. The solution was found 
in the use of the mineral magnetite, a stable 
oxide of iron which is found in nature in 
large quantities, and is, therefore, cheap. The 
mineral is ground up, mixed with the oxide 
of chromium, formed into rods, and either 
copper-plated or encased in a thin iron tube 
to render it a better conductor for bringing 
the current to the arc. In experimenting it 
was observed that "the negative rod only was 
consumed, so that the positive rod has been 
replaced by a copper block, which forms a 
permanent part of the lamp, and is made 
sufficiently large to conduct the heat away, 
and so does not gradually melt off. 

The arc is arranged vertically, and is opened 
out to a distance of from f in. to 1 in. by a 
simple mechanism which resets the negative rod 
from time to time to the minimum distance 
arranged for. 

Comparison of the Various Sources 
of Electrical Illumination. For the 
purpose of comparing the " efficiencies " of the 
various lamps discussed the following table, 
giving representative average figures, is added : 



2634 



Continued 





Watts 


Candles 


Candles 


Type of Lamp. 


per 


per 


per 




Candle. 


Watt. 


h.p. 


Carbon glow lamp . . 


3-3 


0-3 


220 


Nernst lamp 


1-5 


0-C7 


500 


Osmium lamp 


1-5 


0-67 


500 


Tantalum lamp 


2-0 


0-5 


370 


Mercury vapour lamp 
Ordinary arc lamp . . 


0-6 
0-67 


1-7 
1-5 


1,260 
1,100 


Magnetite lamp 


0-25 


4-0 


2,960 


Flame arc lamp 


0-17 


5-8 


4,300 



LIVING PROSE WRITERS 

Being the First Part of a Short Study in the English Prose of To- 
day, with Notes on the Leading- Writers and Their Characteristics 



Group 19 

LITERATURE 
19 

Continued ft-om 
page '2618 



By J. A. HAMMERTON 



"THERE is a class of critics who, in their efforts 
to maintain the pose of " the superior 
person," affect disdain of all serious criticism of 
living writers. To them the biography of a 
living author is an impertinence, and they argue 
that not until a man has been securely coffined, 
and the process of disintegration has advanced 
some considerable way, should any biographer 
be so bold as to attempt a study of his life 
and work. They seem to forget that even the 
Greek drama was employed by the classic writers 
to comment upon living men, and in modern 
times great authors have not hesitated to write 
both in biography and criticism of their con- 
temporaries : Hazlitt, for example, and Sainte- 
Beuve, above all, a vast proportion of whose 
criticism was concerned with writers living when 
he wrote. That is excuse enough for anyone 
to write in serious strain of authors who are 
alive, though it is not to be denied that in the 
making of literature the perspective of time is 
more important to the forming of a lasting 
estimate than it is in any of the other arts. In 
the graphic arts, in the drama, and in music, 
judgment may be more easily formulated on any 
contemporary work ; but since none but the dry- 
as-dusts can subsist exclusively on the literature 
of the past, and contemporary literature must 
ever be the most widely read, we need make no 
apology for taking reasonable interest in its 
creators. For this reason, all studies of the 
literature that is still in the making, the 
product of the age we live in, are to be en- 
couraged and to be taken on their merits, 
without prejudice in their being concerned with 
an epoch that is still unclosed, or an author 
who is still alive. 

Changing Conditions of English 
Prose. We have looked into the origins of 
English prose and have followed, as closely 
as the limits of our share in the general 
scheme of this SELF-EDUCATOR would allow, 
its development through the centuries, exclud- 
ing from our examination of the nineteenth 
century writers those who are alive at the 
time of writing a plan which may reasonably 
be thought arbitrary, since it involves the 
separation of a few authors from those with 
whom they have more in common than they 
have with the writers of the generation into 
which they have survived. But such cases it 
will be our business to note as we proceed, and, 
on the whole, no method has commended itself 
as more simple or direct than that we have 
chosen to adopt. 

The twentieth century prose men carry forward 
the literary tradition on lines somewhat different 
from those that were followed by the writers of 



even the later part of the previous century. 
We have seen how the newspaper and the 
magazine diverted the great eighteenth-century 
talent for letter-writing into public instead of 
private channels. We have now to notice how 
the changes in the newspapers and magazines 
themselves have modified the style and, to a 
considerable extent, the point of view of those 
whom we call the writers of to-day. Here and 
there are a few young writers who haunt the 
old paths, the " bookish " shades ; but in the 
main the essay has become the " article," and 
the article, as a rule, has a very definite 
character foreign to the essay proper. This is 
due in its turn to the progress of that popular 
movement inaugurated by the first Reform Act 
and the rise of the newspaper press. The article 
is, in other words, the answer to the demand 
of the people for concise information on subjects 
which they have had no special opportunity 
to study. 

How the "Article** has Displaced 
the Essay. With the development of educa- 
tion the exclusive and specialised power of the 
pen passed from the hands of a "literary" class ; 
the men of letters ceased to be a sort of priest- 
hood. There is no literary "class" to-day, al- 
though vastly more men and women make 
their livelihood by the pen than in any previous 
age. There is no literary class because so 
many are potentially literary who are content 
to remain readers. Then, again, those who write 
for a livelihood must address themselves to the 
interpretation and solution of what are called 
" questions of the day," since it is " journalistic 
interest " that rules. These " questions," it 
is true, are often literary in a sense, but 
every writer who now secures any considerable 
hold upon the public is compelled to recognise 
that life is greater than literature. Some 
thinkers who are generally regarded as "in- 
genious," but who may have hit upon truth by 
accident or insight, have forecast a time when 
the human intellect shall have invented some 
means* of thought communication that will be 
of more instantaneous effect than the written 
word. The railway, the penny post, the electric 
telegraph, the telephone, wireless telegraphy, 
the " many inventions " of the printing press, 
may be but ' landmarks on the way to a time 
when the " finished " essay or article, the most 
"graphic" literary art, shall take place with 
the picture language of the primeval savage and 
the clay tablets of ancient civilisation, and 
pass as 

" Sultan after Sultan with his pomp 

Abode his destined hour, and went his 
way." 

2685 



LITERATURE 

-Human" as against "Literary" 
Interest. Meanwhile, the demand for^the 
" human," as distinct from the "literary," in 
letters, has led to a vast increase in the output 
of fiction. The vogue of the novel has been 
attended by revolutionary changes in the 
form of that species of literary work, and 
has drawn into the service of fiction great 
numbers of men and women who might, 
under less competitive conditions, have devoted 
their gifts and talents to other departments 
of the literary production. A notable example 
is found in the case of GEORGE MEREDITH (b. 
1828), whose avowedly critical work is repre- 
sented by one tiny volume, his " Essay on 
Comedy." Mr. J. M. BARRIE (b. 1860) is another 
whom the novel, and later, the stage, has claimed, 
though his miscellaneous writings in literary 
criticism, not yet, and little likely ever to be, 
collected into book form, disclose a quite unusual 
talent for criticism. Then, what the Minotaur of 
fiction has not claimed the insatiable appetite 
of the Press has demanded, though here it has 
been all to the advantage of modern prose 
literature ; for an immense proportion of modern 
books, and by no means the least worthy, have 
first existed as journalism. More and more the 
daily and weekly newspapers and the monthly 
magazines are likely to become the mediums of 
circulating the best that living prose has to 
afford not only in criticism of life and letters, but 
in creative fiction also ; the book will be merely 
the convenient secondary condition of the great 
body of twentieth century prose, for permanent 
record and reference. And though it is often 
lamented that literary standards are low 
and commercial, the student cannot escape 
from the conclusion that, apart from the 
presence in our midst of writers of trans - 
cendant ability, and even genius, the general 
level of literary work is wonderfully high. 
One further word as to the manner in which 
we should approach living writers who are also 
thinkers. They are part of what they them- 
selves have read ; and they must be valued as 
guides to, and interpreters of, the writers and 
thinkers of the past, to writers and thinkers 
who wrote and thought from standpoints other 
than those of to-day, and consequently require 
interpretation, in order that their contribu- 
tions to the sum of human knowledge may not 
be lost or misplaced in the structure of human 
progress. But we cannot tarry longer over this 
fascinating theme. To pass from the general to 
the particular, we should like the student of 
English literature who has followed us thus far 
to take up some book which may be said to 
mark the parting of the ways. 

The Parting of the Ways. By a 
happy accident, if such a word as " accident " 
may be used in this connection, a book of the 
kind we indicate comes to our hand as we write. 
We refer to the volume of essays entitled " From 
a College Window," by Mr. ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER 
BENSON (b. 1862). In these exquisitely written 
pages the love of books for their own sake 
finds an expression that is eloquent and deeply 
impressive. Here is the haunting thought of the 

2686 



genuine man of letters whose affection for the 
written word is as intimate as Charles Lamb's 
was. Here also is the joy of the scholar who has 
settled down in a dream-w T orld of his own with 
the scholar of an older world, " and heard the 
silvery bell above him tell out the dear hours 
that, perhaps, he would have delayed if he 
could." But and this touches the point we wish 
to emphasise Mr. Benson sees from his college 
window not only the green and sheltered garden 
that he loves, with its air of secluded recollection 
and repose, but " the court, with all its fresh 
and shifting life, its swift interchanges of study 
and activity ; " and on yet another side he 
observes " the street wliere the infinite pageant 
of humanity goes to and fro, a tide full of sound 
and foam, of business and laughter, and of 
sorrow, too, and sickness, and the funereal 
pomp of death." The result is, perhaps, a little 
sad, but there is nothing morbid in this book. 
The outlook is too clear and manly as well as in- 
formed. 

The New Note in Prose. Now, 
this book typifies the new century in a manner 
that may not at first sight be obvious; it 
indicates that the scholar need no longer be 
a mere creature of the library, living entirely 
in and for his books, but that he may be 
equally, or to some extent, a man of the 
world. This is perhaps the real point of differ- 
ence between the scholarship of the last century 
and that of the century in which we are living. 
The vivifying and humanising influence that 
comes from participation in the active life of 
the world is modifying the work of our prose 
writers so that less and less in the coming years 
will it "smell of the lamp." In this respect 
the prose literature of the twentieth is likely to 
differ more remarkably from that of the nine- 
teenth century than the latter from the prose 
of the eighteenth. Yet it is no new thing ; it is 
essentially a return to a condition that has 
obtained at other times in the history of letters, 
as we pointed out in our opening study on pages 
103 and 104, and it is one of the happiest auguries 
for the permanent value of the prose work likely 
to be produced in the present century. 

A Great Critic : David Masson. 
We have spoken of the past. There was no 
escape from it. Many of the best of our living 
writers delivered themselves of the best of 
their work in the past. DAVID MASSON (b. 1822) 
is an example. Like Dugald Dalgetty, David 
Masson was a student of Marischal College, 
but Dugald was a sad pedant, whereas Pro- 
fessor Masson's great erudition is surpassed by 
the breadth of his sympathies and the volume 
and versatility of his writings. Famous as a 
writer who has lent weight and substance to 
the periodical press, his pen has been employed 
in the encyclopaedias as well as in the reviews. 
The first editor of " Macmillan's Magazine," 
he ruled the destinies of that publication from 
1859 to 1868. His contributions to our know- 
ledge of the English novelists, and of De Quincey, 
Chatterton, Carlyle, and Drummond of Haw- 
thornden, have been of the greatest value. Hej 
is the one writer since Gifford who has thrown 



new light on the life of Ben Jonson. But his 
greatest work is indubitably his " Life of John 
Milton, Narrated in Connection with the Political, 
Ecclesiastical, and Literary History of his Time," 
a work in five noble volumes which has been 
described as the most complete biography 
of any Englishman. His writings on labour 
and philosophy are almost as important as 
his studies in poetry, criticism, history, and 
biography. He began his career as editor of a 
Scottish provincial newspaper, and in 1852 
became Professor of English Literature in Uni- 
versity College, London, and in 1865 in Edinburgh 
University, resigning in 1895, after 30 years 
of singularly fruitful labour in the advance- 
ment of learning. Masson's is certainly one of 
the great names of the nineteenth century. 

Other Leading Critics. GEORGE EDWARD 
BATEMAN SAINTSBURY (b. 1845), originally 
assistant - master of Manchester Grammar 
School, and, like Masson, one-time editor of 
" Macmillan's Magazine," and his successor at 
Edinburgh University, is the possessor of a style 
as polyglot as his reading. He is one of the 
greatest of living critics, the author of innumer- 
able handbooks on English and French literature, 
and of valuable biographies of Dryden, Scott, 
and Matthew Arnold. THEODORE WATTS- 
DUNTON (b. 1836) abandoned the study of 
natural history and the law for the fields of 
fiction and criticism as well as poetry ; in 
criticism he has been one of the forces of the 
last century. His " Studies of Shakespeare," 
and " The Renascence of Wonder " are 
notable productions, but for some of his 
most remarkable work the student must 
turn to the pages of the " Examiner," 
the " Athenaeum," th.3 " Encyclopaedia Britan- 
nica," " Chambers's Encyclopaedia," and the 
leading reviews. He has been for some thirty 
years the close friend and companion of ALGER- 
NON CHARLES SWINBURNE (b. 1837), whose 
" Life of Victor Hugo " and other prose studies, 
especially of Shakespeare, Chapman, and Ben 
Jonson, are masterly examples of lyrical prose 
and intuitive criticism. EDWARD DOWDEN 
(b. 1843) is: another student of French and 
English literature, whose works on Shakespeare 
and Shelley in particular have become classic. 
EDMUND GOSSE (b. 1849) has given us Lives of 
Donne, Gray, Jeremy Taylor, Coventry Pat- 
more, and Sir Thomas Browne, a charming book 
of " French Profiles," and luminous studies of 
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. With 
Mr. Gosse must be associated HENRY AUSTIN 
DOBSON (b. 1840), whose "Eighteenth Century 
Vignettes " and studies of Steele, Goldsmith, 
Wai pole, Hogarth, Richardson, and Fanny 
Burney, possess much of the quality of sincerity, 
scholarship, and feeling which characterise 
his poems. STOPFORD AUGUSTUS BROOKE 
(b. 1832) has made generations of young students 
his debtor by a consummate " Primer of English 
Literature." His more bulky works include 
a history of English Poetry to the Accession of 
-Alfred, "English Literature from the Beginning 



LITERATURE 

to the Norman Conquest," " English Literature 
from A.D. 670 to A.D. 1832," a volume of vividly 
written studies " On Ten Plays of Shakespeare," 
the " Life and Letters of Frederick William 
Robertson," and a study of " The Poetry of' 
Robert Browning." For a long period JOHN 
CHURTON COLLINS (b. 1848), like Professor 
Saintsbury, was a contributor to the " Saturday 
Review." He is now Professor of English 
Literature at Birmingham University, and one 
of the most solid and severe of critics, whose wide 
reading and remarkable memory, as well as his 
acute critical faculty, may be observed to advan- 
tage in his famous plea for the study of English 
Literature at the Universities (1891), his works 
on Bolingbroke, Voltaire, and Swift, his studies 
in Shakespeare and the Elizabethans, and in a 
recent volume, " Studies in Poetry and Criticism." 
With Dr. Brooke's " Ten Plays of Shakespeare " 
should be taken the work on " Shakespearean 
Tragedy," by ANDREW CECIL BRADLEY (b. 1851), 
till recently Professor of English Poetry at 
Oxford. A former occupant of this honour- 
able Chair, WILLIAM JOHN COURTHOPE (b. 1842), 
is rapidly completing an exhaustive " History 
of English Poetry " in six large volumes. Mr. 
Courthope, whose aim has been to " use the 
facts of political and social history as keys to 
the poet's meaning, and to make poetry clothe 
with life and character the dry record of external 
facts," wrote in 1885 a suggestive series of essays 
on " The Liberal Movement in English Litera- 
ture." His Oxford lectures, " Life in Poetry : 
Law in Taste," his admirable monograph on 
Addison, and his " Life of Pope," written for 
his standard edition of Pope's works, are pro- 
ductions of high and permanent value. ANDREW 
LANG (b. 1844) claims consideration as a critic 
as well as a biographer, historian and anthro- 
pologist. He is one of our ripest scholars and 
unrivalled among men of letters for his versa- 
tility. A frequent contributor to " current 
literature," he has written largely in the daily 
Press as well as in the reviews and magazines. His 
more important prose works, apart from transla- 
tions and anthropological studies, include " The 
Life, Letters, and Diaries of Sir Stafford North- 
cote," " Life of Lockhart," " Pickle, the Spy," a 
work of Jacobite research, and " Sir Walter 
Scott." Mr. J. W. MACKAIL (b. 1859), who suc- 
ceeded Mr. Bradley as Professor of Poetry at 
Oxford, is the author of a little manual on " Latin 
Literature," which stands quite by itself as 
an aid to literary self-culture. Mr. WALTER 
RALEIGH, who succeeded Mr. Bradley as Profes- 
sor of English Literature at Glasgow, is the author 
of several works which may be commended for 
their vigour and the brilliant imagery of their 
style, as well as for their high educational 
value. We refer to the " English Voyages of 
the Sixteenth Century," his studies of Stevenson, 
Milton, and Wordsworth, a charming book on 
"Style," and his handbook to "The English 
Novel." FREDERICK WEDMORE (b. 1844) is 
an acute critic of letters as well as of art 
witness his " Life of Balzac." 



. Continued 



2687 



Group 16 

HOUSEKEEPING 
16 

LAUNDRY WORK 

continued from page 2591 



WASHING AND DRYING 

Washing : Shawls, Blankets, White Clothes. Steeping, 
Rinsing, Boiling, Blueing, Wringing, and Drying 



By ALICE E. MARSHALL 



White Shawls. A white shawl should be 
washed in a warm soap lather, then rinsed in 
clean water until all soap is removed, folded, 
mangled, and afterwards well shaken to raise 
the nap. If dried in the usual way it may get 
stretched out of shape. To avoid this, a sheet 
may be spread on the floor of an empty room 
and the shawl carefully pinned out on to it. 

Blankets. New flannels and blankets 
are often very difficult to wash on account of the 
amount of sulphur which they contain. If 
steeped for some time in a soft lather, made with 
melted soap and ammonia, they can be washed 
quite easily in the usual way. A breezy day- 
should be chosen for blanket washing, as it is 
difficult to get them dried quickly. All flannel 
garments should be ironed with a moderately 
hot iron when nearly dry. This greatly improves 
their appearance, the cotton bands, etc., being 
ironed in the usual way until quite dry. 

Washing Coloured Prints and Mus- 
lins. The main points to be observed may be 
summarised as follows : 

Wash the clothes in lukewarm water, with melted 
soap ; squeeze them between the hands do not rub 
them ; rinse them in clean water to which has been 
added one tablespoonful of salt and one table- 
spoonful of vinegar, the former to set, and the 
latter to revive the colour ; stiffen with boiled 
starch ; fold evenly and mangle ; dry quickly out 
of the sun ; damp with warm water ; iron with a 
moderately hot iron ; fold, and air well. 

Quick washing and quick drying are absolutely 
necessary with coloured materials in order to 
preserve the tints. Some colours " stand" much 
better than others. Pink and blue fade quickly 
if very hot water is used, or if the garment 
is exposed to the rays of the sun. Green has a 
tendency to " run," and so spoils the appearance 
and design of tha fabric. To check this, one 
tablespoonful of salt should be added to one gallon 
of cold water, and the garment be steeped in this 
for a few minutes preparatory to the washing. 
In the case of new prints or muslins, this steeping 
is an advantage in setting the colours and pre- 
venting them from " running." Never rub soap 
on the material, as the alkali in it acts on 
the colours and causes them to fade. Coloured 
prints and muslins are not, as a rule, boiled ; 
some prints which are used for making men's 
shirts are guaranteed to stand this process, but it 
is better omitted, unless the material has been 
previously tested and been found to stand boiling 
without the colour fading in the least degree. 

The water in which the prints and muslins are 
washed must only be lukewarm. Another point 
to be remembered is that the articles must never 
be left lying about damp. After being dried, the 
garments need to be damped again, then folded 
evenly and mangled before being ironed ; this 

2688 



must be done immediately after the mangling. 
Only a moderately hot iron should be used ; a 
very hot iron causes the colour to fade. Prints 
and muslins should be ironed on the right side, 
unless there is a raisec^ pattern, when the article 
should be ironed on the wrong side only. 

White Clothes. The process used in 
washing white clothes is as follows : 

Steep them for at least 12 hours in cold water toj 
loosen the dirt; " poss " well, and wring out of 
steeping water ; wash in clean, warm water, using 
soap and taking the cleanest things first ; rinse 
in clean, warm water to remove soap and dirty 
water ; boil for about 20 minutes, to improve the 
colour ; rinse in clean, warm water to remove soap ; 
pass through blue water, or, in the case of table 
linen, etc., add blue to the boiled starch, and pass 
the linen through this ; fold evenly with tapes and 
buttons inside, and mangle ; dry the clothes in the 
open air, if possible. 

The chief points to note in the washing of 
all white clothes are: the removal of all stains 
and dirty marks, and perfect cleansing of the 
material; the keeping of the clothes a good 
colour ; the preservation of the fabric. 

Steeping. This is an important point im 
preserving the material, as the cold water softens 
and loosens the dirt, making it easier to remove ; , 
consequently less rubbing is required, and there 
is not the same amount of strain on the material 
as would otherwise be the case. 

Washing. After being wrung out of the^ 
steeping water, the clothes must, as already-* 
stated, be washed in clean, warm water with 
soap, the cleanest things being taken first. All 
parts of the clothes should be well looked over, 
and any dirty parts, such as the neck and wrist- 1 
bands, should have particular attention paid to 
them. 

Soap the parts well, and then rub one piece of 
the material against the other. 

The posser and tub may be used for large 
articles, such as sheets, which do not require 
much rubbing. A small nail-brush may be used 
for collars, cuffs, etc. ; it quickly cleans the 
if they are laid flat on the table, and th 
soaped well and scrubbed on each side with t 
brush. All dirty marks must be entirely remov 
from the clothes before they go into the boiler. 

The water should be changed frequently durin 
the washing in fact, as soon as it becomes dirty. 
Too much cannot be said of the importance o:' 
using plenty of water for both washing an 
rinsing purposes. 

Rinsing. Rinsing, both before and aft 
boiling, is of the greatest importance, as th 
soap, if left in, turns the clothes a bad colour 
and, in conjunction with " blue," forms spots 
iron-mould. Tepid water should be used at fi 
for rinsing, in order to get rid of the soap ; co 
water may be used afterwards. 



Boiling. The boiler should not be more than 
three parts full of water. Enough soap should 
be added to the water it should be shredded in 
to form a lather, more soap and water being 
added as the clothes are changed. The order in 
which the clothes are boiled is as follows : 

Table linen; cuffs, collars, etc.; bed and 
body linen ; handkerchiefs ; coarse things, such 
as kitchen towels. 

Small things may be put loosely into a bag ; 
this keeps them together, and is also a protection 
if there is any fear of iron-mould. Twenty 
minutes is quite long enough to boil the clothes. 
The water must not be boiling when the clothes 
are put in, but should be gradually brought to 
boiling-point. They should be stirred about in 
the water with two wooden sticks, which are also 
used when lifting the clothes out of the boiler. 

After boiling the clothes will require rinsing 
again in clean warm water to remove the soap ; 
after this has been done they must be blued, or, 
if a slight stiffness is desired, be put into boiled 
starch, to which a little blue has been added. 

Blueing. Solid or liquid blue may be 
used the former is the better. The blue should 
be put into a piece of flannel and then be 
squeezed into the water until the right shade 
has been obtained. This may be judged by 
holding some of the blue water in the palm of 
the hand. It should be of a sky-blue shade ; 
too deep a blue* is not desirable. It should be 
just sufficiently blue to remove the yellow 
appearance given the clothes by the soap. 

The blue must not be allowed to settle at the 
bottom of the tub, or the clothes will have a 
etreaky appearance. Too many clothes should 
not be placed at once in either washing, rinsing, 
or blueing water. 

Wringing. Care must be taken when 
this is done, either by hand or machine, not to 
strain or wrench the material. The linen should 
be evenly folded, with the selvedges together 
this is the strongest way of the material all 
tapes and buttons inside, when wrung by the 
machine. To wring by hand, gather the material 
up in the left hand, place one hand above the 
other, the little fingers together, and wring from 
right to left the selvedge way of the cloth or 
garment. A mangle or wringer will accomplish 
the work much more quickly and easily. 

Drying. This should be done in the open 
air whe~e possible, the early morning air being 
the best, as it freshens and bleaches the clothes. 
See that the clothes-lines are firmly fastened at 
each end, for neglect of this precaution may 
mean a great deal of trouble if the line comes 
down, and the clothes have to be washed a 
second time. They should be hung from 
the line by the thickest part, and as far as 
possible in their natural position, a peg being 
firmly fixed near each end to secure them to the 
line. Sheets and tablecloths should be hung 
from the line by folding the two hems one over 
the other, and fixing a peg a few inches in from 



HOUSEKEEPING 

each selvedge and one in the middle, to 
make them quite secure. 

Collars and cuffs may be strung together on 
a tape, a piece of muslin or thin cotton being 
pegged over them to keep them free from any 
specks of soot or dust. Clothes must not be hung 
out in a very strong wind, or they are liable to get 
torn. Unstarched linen, excepting those articles 
which have to be cold starched, may be taken 
down from the line before they are perfectly dry, 
folded neatly, and placed in the clothes-basket. 
Those which do not require ironing, such as 
sheets and towels, may be left lying in the clothes- 
basket a short time, to acquire an even damp- 
ness ; they must then be pressed in the mangle 
to remove the creases. 

Sprinkling. As it is impossible to get 
a good result by ironing clothes which are dry, 
it is necessary that both starched and un- 
starched articles which have been dried should 
be damped again, so that the heat of the iron 
can take full effect. Table linen, etc., which 
has been starched with boiled starch, must always 
be thoroughly dried, and then damped again 
before ironing, or the iron will stick. 

To damp clothes, spread them as flat as 
possible on a table ; hold a basin of lukewarm 
water in the left hand, and with the right 
sprinkle the water evenly over every part. 
Articles which have been starched with boiled 
starch will not take cold water easily ; it causes 
a dark shade to appear, therefore warm water 
should be used. After damping, the articles 
must be evenly folded, passed through the 
mangle, and placed in a clean cloth in the 
clothes-basket, ready for ironing. They are 
ironed much better if allowed to lie a short 
time in a cool place. Pocket-handkerchiefs 
need not be dried before ironing ; after 
mangling they should be rolled up tightly in a 
clean cloth, and ironed damp. This gives them 
a slight crispness, without being actually stiff. 

The body part of a man's shirt should be 
damped in the same way as other body linen, 
care being taken that the water does not touch 
the front or cuffs. If the linen is damped well 
just above the cuffs and round the edge of the 
front, it will prevent the starch from entering 
into the sides and sleeves of the shirt. 

Collars, cuffs, etc., must be perfectly dry before 
being starched with cold starch, or they will not 
be stiff. All the old starch should be well 
rubbed out ; if any is left in, the linen will have 
a dull, mottled appearance. 

A tablecloth should be stretched into shape 
whilst damp. Gather the hem up in the 
hands, and with the assistance of another 
person pull the cloth gently into shape. Long 
lace curtains may be straightened in the same 
way, care being taken not to put too great a 
strain on the material. 

The fringes of towels and tray cloths should 
be beaten- against the edge of a table whilst 
damp, in order to straighten them. 



Continued 



2639 




2690 



650-871. STUDIES IN BRUSH DRAWING 



BRUSH DRAWING 

Its Advantages and Characteristic Strokes. Varieties in Tone and Line. 
Studies of Flowers and Fruit. Greek and Japanese Brushwork 



Group 8 

DRAWING 
19 

Continued from 



By WILLIAM R. COPE 



Advantages of Brush Drawing. The 

art of drawing with a brush requires the 



be used, which may be of different colours 
for the separate parts, say, of a plant with its 



same training and skill as that which enables leaves and flowers ; or the tones may be varied 



on 



one to draw with a pencil or chalk, and 
should be considered necessary as a part of 
one's training, instead of merely a separate 
and distinct manual occupation. Drawings 
executed in outline with a pointed pencil admit 
of fine detail, but they have the tendency to 
cause beginners, unless they have a careful 
teacher, to think too much, if not entirely, of 
the edge of the object, and little or nothing of 
the mass and general proportions ; whereas 
drawing with the brush compels students to 
train their eyes to see form or mass, the general 
look and even the colour of objects, thus 
cultivating accurate observation, comparison, 
reflection and memory, in order that the hand 
may give a skilful and true expression of what 
is seen. Truth of drawing must be carefully 
cultivated, and is not incompatible with an 
artistic rendering of the object that is studied. 

Characteristic Features. The essence 
of brushwork is that it should be free and 
not laboured; the strokes should be spon- 
taneous and yet accurate in form, although 
there may be slight irregularities in individual 
ones. Rigid mechanical accuracy results in a 
hard, wooden appearance in the drawing. 
There is no harm in sometimes using the pencil 
to sketch in lightly the general form and pro- 
portion (but not the details) of a complicated 
study before beginning the actual brushwork, in 
order to counteract the tendency towards loose- 
ness in drawing with the brush alone. 

The flexible point of the brush has its own 
peculiar capacity, and its own range of treat- 
ment. The water-colour landscapes of De Wint 
are fine examples of broad washes and emphatic 
brush touches ; but Japanese brush drawings 
[682, see also page 113] show, too, how character 
and form may be represented by the brush. 

Materials and Directions. For paper 
use O.W.S. " not " surface, but even car- 
tridge will do for many drawings. The brush 
should be a good sable, and not too small; a 
No. 7 is a good size to use, with, perhaps, a 
No. 5 for very small detail when required. 
The colour may be sepia or Indian ink for 
studies in monochrome, but any colours may 
be used. When mixed the colour should be 
moderately thin, and the brush fully charged 
with it while the form is being made. Keep a 
pool of colour on the paper at the lower edge 
of the wash to ensure clear, bright tones. No 
attempt should be made to soften or gradate 

.e tone with another, but flat tints should 



for the upper and lower surfaces of the leaf 
or petal. 

Brush Strokes. Command over the 
brush is absolutely essential for success, and this 
can only be obtained by constant exercise. 
A beginner should spend some time in practising 
preliminary exercises in brush strokes similar 
to those in the whole row of 650, in order to 
learn free movement and the proper handling 
of the brush. This will be capital training for 
securing " slick " work, with clean edges, and 
with pleasant colour in the more difficult studies 
to be undertaken later. 

Studies of Flowers, Fruit, etc. 
Next procure some natural leaves and flowers, 
such as those shown in 652 to 664, and en- 
deavour to represent them in flat washes of 
colour as indicated, leaving the white paper 
showing as lines for the edges. 651 in- 
dicates how to begin a leaf. Notice the 
pool of colour at the lower edge as advised. 
The studies should be gradated in difficulty, 
so that in time more interesting examples, like 
those in 665 to 671, may be chosen for represen- 
tation. Always study from Nature. 

Varying Tones. Sometimes exercises 
may be worked in monochrome in a manner 
similar to that shown in 672 and 673, the latter 
being partly in outline, to suggest the white 
colour of the flowers. Or different colours in 
flat washes may be used for the leaves and 
flowers of a plant. 674 is a study of the 
laurel, where a light tone has been washed 
over first, and, when dry, an outline for the 
edges and veins has been drawn with the brash. 

Conventional Representations. When 
the student has made several careful brush 
studies of a plant, and so forth, he should be able 
to give an ideal or conventional rendering of 
it suitable for design. Thus the brush enables 
him to improve rapidly his imaginative and 
inventive faculties. There are generally more 
regularity, balance, and symmetry in a design 
than in Nature, as represented in 675 to 679, 
which are all conventional. 

Greek Brushwork. The Greeks fre- 
quently used the brush in decorating their build- 
ings, etc., with designs similar to 680 and 681. 

Japanese Brushwork. The Japanese 
are world-famed for their brushwork, as exem- 
plified in 682, which will teach better than 
hundreds of words what can be accomplished 
with the brush. 

[See over page for illustrations.] 

Elements of Drawing concluded 

2691 




fifln 



672-681. DIFFERENT STYLES OF BRUSH DRAWING 



2692 







682. JAPANESE BRUSH DRAWING 



2693 



Group 3 

PSYCHOLOGY 
6 

Continued from page 2518 



EMOTIONS AND INSTINCTS 

Instincts the Aspects of Emotions. Physiological Features of Emotions. Conten- 
tion Regarding the Theory of Emotions. Controlling Emotions. Reasoning Power 



By Dr. C. W. SALEEBY 



NOW, we must turn to a new department of 
our subject, and one attended- with much 
difficulty. One of the earliest of the great books 
dealing with the emotions is that of Professor 
Bain, "The Emotions and the Will" ; and the title 
is worth remembering if only because it suggests 
the importance of emotions in relation to the 
will, or, in other words, in relation to action. 
Best of all is it to note the meaning of the 
word and to observe, in general, that motion 
is associated with emotion. But since Professor 
Bain's day a new light has been thrown upon 
this subject by the theory of evolution. We are 
able to turn to the lower animals and to study 
in them, not of course their emotions directly, 
since we can never directly communicate with 
another consciousness, but those acts which 
are associated with their emotions. In other 
words, we begin by considering the emotions 
not as we have experienced them within our- 
selves, not by the older method of introspection, 
but by the newer method of objective study. 

Emotions and Instincts are One. 

The great discovery which we have to recognise is 
that what we call instincts are the obvious aspects 
of emotions. Not only do the two go together, 
but they are essentially one. Now, what is an 
instinct, looked at objectively ? According to 
Spencer, it is a " compound reflex action." 
More than this, it is a compound reflex action 
which is not the product of individual experience, 
but, in the animal or in the baby, has the same 
results in furthering the life of the creature 
as if it had had individual experience. In other 
words, the nervous system is so constructed 
by inheritance and not as a result of experience 
that, in given circumstances, even if they be 
entirely new in the personal experience, the 
creature acts in a fashion which subserves 
either his own life or that of his race. 

It is here impossible to go into the subtle 
question of the origin of instincts. We must 
simply accept the fact that each new creature is 
able to perform instinctive or compound reflex 
actions which have a definite value for himself 
or for his species, even though he has no 
individual experience of his own to serve in 
directing those actions. We, also, have instincts 
the instinct to avoid a motor-car or dangerous 
heights, the love instinct, the instinct for 
possession of " portable property," and many 
more. But when we examine our own instincts 
we find that these experiences of ours are 
accompanied by a particular state of mind, 
and this we call an emotion. We instinctively 
avoid the dangerous motor-car ; at certain 
times we instinctively seek the company of 
others. But these experiences and actions are 

2694 



accompanied by emotions. As each of us reasons 
from himself to his fellow-men, to savages, to 
children, and to the lower animals, the conclusion 
must be reached that, at bottom, emotions are 
the psychical accompaniments of those physio- 
logical or physical actions which we call instinctive. 

Emotional Accompaniment of In= 
stinctive Acts. In man the importance of the 
emotional accompaniment has come very greatly 
to exceed the importance of the instinctive act 
itself, and for the reason that, in virtue of our 
intelligence or reason, we are now constantly 
in the habit of inhibiting these instinctive or 
compound reflex actions by means of the 
activity of higher centres, in the fashion, already 
explained and illustrated. But though the 
instinctive action may be prohibited or inhibited, 
its emotional accompaniment remains, and playa 
a very large part in our experience. 

For many decades psychology has treated 
of the instincts of animals and the emotions of 
men as if these were two independent subjects ; 
and it is a very great advance indeed for us to 
recognise, as all psychologists now do, that 
these are really opposite aspects of one and the 
same subject. In our own case we feel the 
emotions and lay the greatest stress upon 
them, the instinctive actions being often 
inhibited altogether, and the more so in thought- 
ful people, such as writers and readers of 
psychology. But when studying the lower 
animals we cannot feel their emotions, though 
we see the instinctive actions which they 
accompany ; and so, in this case, it is upon 
these last that the greatest stress has been laid. 

Emotions and Organic Sensations. 
Now, in order to understand the modern con- 
ception of the emotions, it is necessary to point 
out that, alike in the case of the lower animals 
and of ourselves, instinctive actions, such, for 
instance, as that of flight from danger, are 
accompanied by a number of changes actions 
of sorts within the body itself. The heart is 
affected and the size of the bloodvessels, the 
breathing and the skin. In the case of flight, 
it can be shown that all the many changes 
which occur in the body and which we say 
are caused by fear, tend, if they be not excessive, 
to serve the act of flight and make it more 
effective. In order to fly or run very quickly 
the breathing and the action of the heart must 
be accelerated ; large quantities of blood must 
pour rapidly through the organs which are 
being used viz., the muscles of the limbs. 
Blood is consequently withdrawn in large 
measure from the skin and the glands. Hence, 
the skin becomes cold and pale, the mouth and 
throat become dry, and if, at such a moment, 



: 



it is sought by food to excite the flow of saliva, 
it is found that the glands in question are 
unable to produce their secretion. It might . 
easily be shown by many illustrations in the 
case of other emotions how other series of 
modifications are produced, which tend to effect 
the performance of the corresponding instinc- 
tive action. Furthermore, common to all 
emotions is a series of bodily changes which, 
unless grossly exaggerated, tend to make the 
body more effective in performing the instinc- 
tive action which will serve either its own end 
or, in the case of certain emotions, the end of 
the species. 

What is an Emotion ? Upon these 
things all psychologists are now agreed, and 
there remains the one very interesting question : 
What exactly constitutes the emotion ? Now, 
in seeking to answer this question the first thing 
that strikes us is that, in addition to the sensa- 
tion of the external object in question, and in 
addition to the externally directed action 
which is thus produced an instinctive or 
compound reflex action there are all these 
internal changes within the body. Now, since 
we have already noted the existence of the 
so-called internal or organic sensations, may 
it not be that what we call an emotion is simply 
our appreciation of certain changes in our 
internal or organic sensations, these changes 
being induced by the various internal bodily 
changes which, as we have seen, accompany 
instinctive action. We have already noted 
that feeling -tone is very prominent in connection 
with these primitive and deeply rooted sensa- 
tions ; and, of course, we know that feeling- 
tone is a very prominent fact of emotion, as 
we hint when we speak of an agony of fear or 
an ecstasy of joy. 

A Twenty Years' Controversy. The 
theory of the emotions which has been hinted at 
was propounded more than 20 years ago by 
Professor William James, the illustrious psycho- 
logist of Harvard University. A similar theory 
was also advanced by the German student Lange, 
and so this is sometimes known as the James- 
Lange theory of emotion. For 20 years it has 
been the subject of never-ceasing controversy a 
fact which in itself is quite sufficient to suggest 
that the theory is well worthy of our study. At 
this date, indeed, it may confidently be said that 
this brilliant theory is now well on the way to- 
wards establishing itself. According to this 
theory, then, an emotion consists in a perception, 
as a united whole, of the sum of organic sensa- 
tions due to the internal changes which are 
reflexly produced in us by the object or cause of 
our emotion. It is well worth noting that the 
theory has been misrepresented as if it were 
asserted that " an emotion is but a sum of organic 
sensations." It is more than that ; it is the 
union of all these organic sensations into one 
perception or percept. 

Do We Cry Because We are Sorry ? 
Let us quote from Professor James : " The 
feeling in the coarser emotions results from 
the bodily expression. Our natural way of 
thinking about these emotions is that the mental 



PSYCHOLOGY 

perception of some fact excites the mental 
affection called the emotion, and that this 
latter state of mind gives rise to the bodily 
expression. My theory, on the contrary, is that 
the bodily changes follow directly the perception of 
the exciting fact, and that our feeling of the same 
changes as they occur IS the emotion. Common - 
sense says, we lose our fortune, are sorry, and 
weep ; we meet a bear, are frightened, and 
run ; we are insulted by a rival, are angry, and 
strike. The hypothesis here to be defended says 
that this order of sequence is incorrect, that the 
one mental state is not immediately induced by 
the other, that the bodily manifestations must 
first be interposed between, and that the more 
rational statement is that we feel sorry because 
we cry, angry because we strike, afraid because 
we tremble, and not that we cry, strike, or 
tremble because we are sorry, angry, or fearful, 
as the case may be. Without the bodily states 
following on the perception, the latter would be 
purely cognitive in form, pale, colourless, desti- 
tute of emotional warmth. We might then see the 
bear and judge it best to run, receive the insult 
and deem it right to strike, but we should not 
actually feel afraid or angry." 

Support of the Theory. Professor James 
proceeds to point out that, notwithstanding 
apparent objections to this theory, yet " par- 
ticular perceptions certainly do produce wide- 
spread bodily effects by a sort of immediate 
physical influence, antecedent to the arousal of 
an emotion or emotional idea." He quotes in- 
stances from listening to poetry and hearing 
music, and goes on to say : " If we abruptly see 
a dark, moving form in the woods, our heart 
stops beating, and we catch our breath instantly, 
and before any articulate idea of danger can 
arise. If our friend goes near to the edge of a 
precipice we get the well-known feeling of ' all- 
overishness,' and we shrink back, although we 
positively know him to be safe, and have no 
distinctive imagination of his fall." The present 
writer knows a lady and her brother, neither of 
whom can permit a friend to lean over a barrier 
at any height so as to look down. Even where 
there is absolutely no danger whatever, and 
where there is absolutely no fear, the mere sight 
of what in other circumstances might constitute 
danger directly produces a painful emotion, thus 
confirming Professor James's theory and showing 
that common-sense is wrong when it says that 
we tremble because we are afraid. 

Medical Proof. Professor James goes 
on to adduce much further evidence in favour 
of his theory. He shows that every one of 
the bodily changes, whatsoever it be, is felt, 
acutely or obscurely, the moment it occurs. 
This may seem an excessive statement, yet it 
will be found to be true by any one who cares 
very carefully to observe his own experiences. 
Another powerful argument is furnished, to quote 
Professor James, " by those pathological cases 
in which the emotion is objectless ... In every 
asylum we find examples of absolutely unmotivcd 
apathy which persists in spite of the best of out- 
ward reasons why it should give way." Remark- 
able proof of Professor James's theory is furnished 

2695 



PSYCHOLOGY 

to the medical mind by the symptoms of the 
well-known disease which is called angina pec- 
tans. In this disease there occur severe attacks, 
which are due to some embarrassment of the 
heart, and which produce the following picture : 
" Thus, to take one special instance, if inability 
to draw deep breath, fluttering of the heart, and 
that peculiar epigastric change felt as precordial 
anxiety [popularly, ' that sinking feeling '] 
with an irresistible tendency to take a some- 
what crouching attitude and to sit still and with, 
perhaps, other visceral processes not now known, 
all spontaneously occur together in a certain 
person, his feeling of their combination is the 
emotion of dread ; and he is the victim of what 
is known as morbid fear ... the emotion 
here is nothing but the feeling of a bodily state, 
and it has a purely bodily cause." 

A Cure for Passion. We may quote 
some practical illustrations which show the 
truth of this theory. " Everyone knows how 
panic is increased by flight, and how the 
giving way to the symptoms of grief or anger 
increases those passions themselves. Each fit of 
sobbing makes the sorrow more acute, and calls 
forth another fit stronger still, until at last 
repose only ensues with lassitude and with the 
apparent exhaustion of the machinery. In rage, 
it is notorious how we work ourselves up to a 
climax by repeated outbreaks of expression. 
Refuse to express a passion and it dies. Count 
ten before venting your anger, and its occasion 
seems ridiculous. Whistling to keep up courage 
is no mere figure of speech. On the other hand, 
sit all day in a moping posture, sigh, and reply 
to everything with a dismal voice, and your 
melancholy lingers. There is no more valuable 
precept in moral education .than this, as all who 
have experienced know : if we wish to conquer 
undesirable emotional tendencies in ourselves, 
we must assiduously, and, in the first instance, 
cold-bloodedly, go through the outward move- 
ments of those contrary dispositions which 
we prefer to cultivate. The reward of per- 
sistency will infallibly come, in the fading 
out of the sullenness or depression, and the 
advent of real cheerfulness and kindliness in 
their stead." 

These quotations have been carefully chosen, 
and we would direct attention to their authorijba- 
tive character. 

Emotion in Animals. Various experi- 
ments have been made in order to test the truth 
of Professor James's theory. It was found by 
Professor Sherrington, of Liverpool, that when 
the nervous system of a dog was so interfered with 
that its organic sensations could not reach its 
brain, it still exhibited the symptoms of emotion. 
Hence, it has been concluded by opponents of the 
theory that these experiments "show conclusively 
that normal emotional states are possible, along 
with complete visceral anaesthesia." But this 
assumes that because such dogs display the 



instinctive response, therefore they experience the 
emotion. Doubtless, however, the professor's 
theory is true, and they do not experience the 
emotion ; the experiments are absolutely con- 
sistent with the theory, and are strictly parallel to 
the cases which Professor James quotes where 
loss of organic sensation in the insane was 
accompanied by absence of emotion. In these 
cases the bodily expression of the emotions so- 
called, or rather the bodily changes which 
emotions accompany, are produced, though the 
emotions themselves are not felt. 

For further consideration of this great theory 
the reader must be referred to its author. 

The Power to Reason. The greatest 
of all poets has expressed, in a famous passage, 
the characters which most distinguish the 
human race. Thus says Hamlet, " What a 
piece of work is a man ! How noble in reason ! 
How infinite in faculties ! In form and moving 
how express and admirable ! In action how like 
an angel ! In apprehension how like a god ! 
The beauty of the world ! The paragon of 
animals ! " Now, it is a very common view, 
met more especially amongst young persons 
of both sexes and amongst women generally, 
that man's reason is the noblest of his attri- 
butes. This, however, neither the psychologist 
nor the moralist can admit. The moral nature 
of man is nobler than his intellectual nature. 
Nevertheless, without his reason he is incom- 
pletely human, and therefore the subject 
demands close study. 

The "Faculty" Psychology. Not 
many years ago, students of mind had the 
trick of dividing the mind into a sort of series 
of watertight compartments. They spoke of 
the faculty of reason, the moral faculty, and so 
on and so on ; while nowadays we rather 
contemptuously talk of their conception of the 
subject as " the faculty psychology." It was 
based upon notions which are akin to those 
of the old phrenology. Just as Gall and 
Spurzheim divided the brain into a number 
of different portions, each with its own faculty, 
so the older psychology divided the mind. But 
now, though there is no objection to the occa- 
sional use of the word faculty for convenience, 
we must never permit ourselves half-consciously 
to accept the assumptions which its former 
use expressed. The processes and characters 
of the mind cannot be divided into faculties. 
Directly we come to analyse any one of them 
we find that it is inexplicably mixed up with 
and compounded of all the others. We must 
beware of retaining the old erroneous idea, 
while rejecting the old terminology. Having 
ceased to talk of the reasoning faculty, the 
volitional faculty, and the moral faculty, we 
must not speak of reason, will, and moral feeling 
as if these were truly independent entities. 
That is not the way in which the mind is con- 
structed. 



Continued 



2696 



MOULDING BOXES 

Different Forms of Boxes : their Construction and Use. Brass-moulders' 
Boxes. Casting- in Alloys. Calculating- the Weights of Castings 



By JOSEPH G. HORNER 



Group 12 

MECHANICAL 

ENGINEERING 

19 

WORKSHOP PRACTICE 

continued from page 2547 



[OULDS cannot be made without boxes or 
flasks of some kind. There is only one 
cception to this those moulds made in open 

id. But these are a mere trifle in com- 
parison with the work done in boxes. They 
require little skill, and are reserved chiefly for 
the making of the moulding boxes themselves 
and the roughest class of foundry tools, as core 
plates, core rings, grids, lifters, and such like. 
A moulding box is essentially an open-frame box 
for enclosing and confining the mould. It may 
be made of stout wood, as is sometimes the case 
both in iron and brass foundries, especially in 
America, but it is generally made of iron. Boxes 
are subject to great stresses, due to the hard ram- 
ming of the sand within, the pressure of molten 
metal, and the twisting strains due to the 
handling and turning over when loaded with 
sand and castings. For this reason they are 
made stout and strong. 

Then, further, since the carrying of a large 
mass of sand by its simple friction within the 
sides of the box would be impossible in those of 
large areas, cross-bars or stays are made to 
reach across from side to side at intervals of a 
few inches. Also, since the adhesion of the sand 
is much assisted by rough surfaces, the boxes 
are purposely cast very rough, and, in fact, their 
inner faces and the surfaces of the bars are some- 
times artificially roughened over. Then pro- 
vision has to be made for uniting the box parts 
of a set to one another, and also for turning them 
over. Other provisions are made in some cases, 
such as flanges for back plates, holes for core- 
bars, for core-vents, etc. 

Forms of Boxes. The forms of boxes vary 
in almost every conceivable way. They are mostly 
rectangular, being both square and oblong. But 
many are circular, some polygonal, and a few 
for special purposes of various odd shapes. 



There are several conditions by which the forma 
of boxes used for different purposes are governed. 
Thus, when patterns are moulded by bedding-in, 
by turning over, and in middle parts", correspond- 
ing differences in the forms and fittings of the 
boxes are necessary. When a pattern is moulded 
by bedding-in, a top box alone is used [108, AJ. 
That is, the whole or a portion of the pattern will 
be rammed in the sand that forms the floor of the 
foundry, and its top face only, with such portions 
as may happen to project from that upper face, 
will be formed in the box. 

In the figure, a represents the stays or bars 
which serve to retain the sand securely from the 
chance of tumbling down, assisted by "lifters," 
which are suspended from their top edges [102, 
page 2541]. The bottom edges of the bars are kept 
back a little way (f or 1 in.) from the joint face 
to give room for a stratum of sand, and the edges 
are chamfered to allow the ramming which takes 
place through the top to have full effect under 
the bars, which it would not do if they were 
square. 

Boxes for Turning Over Work. In 
all moulds that are made by the process of 
turning over, the boxes consist of two or more 
parts. Boxes that are used in turned-over work 
are necessarily divided, and the number of their 
joints corresponds usually, though not invariably, 
with the number of joints by which the mould is 
divided. When a box is in two sections only, 
those two may be perfectly symmetrical and 
alike, or their bars may be of different forms, and 
variously arranged. When a box is divided into 
more than two portions the middle part or parts 
always differs from the top or bottom, being 
usually destitute of stays. In 108, while A is a 
top, B is a middle, and C a bottom box, or drag, 
B is destitute of bars, C has flat ones. The 
section of the standard form of unsymmetrical, 




IUUUUUL 

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innnnnr 



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Jc 



108. STANDARD BOX TYPES FOB TURNING OVER IN 



2697 



MECHANICAL ENGINEERING 

two-parted box is when A is plaeed on C. In the 
three-parted, B comes between A and C. The 
shape in plan may be square, as shown, oblong, 
circular, or any other special form. Observe the 
difference in the shape of the bars in A and C. 
Since the part C rests upon the floor, there is no 
risk of the sand falling down, as there is in the 
top A, where the sand is liable to fall into the 
mould. The bars in C are, therefore, simply flat, 
and they keep the body 
of the sand in the box 
distinct from that on the 
floor. But the bars in 
A serve to support the 
mass of sand above the 
mould. B has no bars, 
because they would be in 
the way, the centre por- 
tion being occupied with 
the mould. But as it is 
necessary to give some 
support to the sand 
surrounding the pattern 
there, in middles for 
jobbing work internal 
fillets, e, are cast around 
the inside. Upon these, 
rectangular rods of 
wrought or of cast iron 
are laid, and lifters hung 
or placed to afford sup- 
port to the sand. In 
middles used for standard 
work, bars are often cast 



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109. STANDARD SQUARE BOX 



across those sections where they would be out 
of the way of the pattern. 

A and C are furnished with the usual swivels b. 
But in middles, B, and other boxes of small 
dimensions, say below 2 ft. 6 in., square handles, 
d, are frequently cast, the boxes being lifted off, 
and, if necessary, turned over by hand. 

Figs. 109 and 110 illustrate two top box parts 
in plan, square, and round 
respectively, and show the 
arrangements of bars usual in 
boxes of large dimensions. 
Fig. 110 is for wheels and 
pulleys, and the central opening 
is left for casting the boss 
through. 

Some Special Forms 
Boxes specially for small work 
are shown in subsequent illus- 
trations. Fig. Ill is a small 
box destitute of bars, and 
having only internal fillets to 
retain the sand. The drawing 
also shows the pouring of a 
handwheel. Fig. 112 is a box 
used largely by brass-founders. 



The box parts are held together by the wooden 
screw clamps and back boards, necessary to 
retain the sand during pouring. Very often the 
boxes themselves are made of wood and hinged, 
closing like the covers of a book. 

Fig. 114 illustrates one of the later develop- 
ments in boxes, the " snap " flask. It is hinged 
at one corner, and clamped at the corner opposite 
with a catch, so that after the mould is rammed 
the box is opened as 
indicated by the dotted 
outline, leaving the mould 
on one of the bottom 
boards. The great eco- 
nomy of this is that 
moulding boxes are not 
used to enclose the mould 
after its removal for cast- 
ing. A ring of iron is 
rammed in the mould, 
and sustains it when out 
of the box. In this way 
one box will serve to pro- 
duce dozens of moulds 
ready for casting. Thi? 
method is, of course, 
suitable only for small 
moulds not 'exceeding 
about 12 or 15 in. 
across, but within these 
limits it is largely em- 
ployed. 

Castings in Various 
Alloys. The differences 




110. STANDARD ROUND BOX 



between making moulds for iron, steel, brass, 
and aluminium are considerable, and of much 
practical importance. 

The facts of crystallisation and shrinkage lie 
at the bottom of these. Precautions that are, 
to say the least, judicious in iron castings, 
become more imperative in steel because of 
its larger amount of shrinkage. The first points 
to observe are uniformity of 
sections in adjacent masses, 
the avoidance of keen angles, 
and, after that, regular rates 
of cooling down. The crystal- 
line formation of cast iron is 
not affected to the same extent 
by the internal stresses set up 
by disproportioned adjacent 
masses as that of steel is. If 
an iron casting be pulled and 
stressed in this way the chances 
are that it will break, being 
torn asunder by these stresses 
in cooling. But steel is so 
strong that though it may also 
fracture, it is more likely to 
crack simply, or to become 
to tension 




at a slight angle from the perpendicular, and 
poured through the holes 6. 

The ancient type of brass-moulder's box, re- 
tained still in most shops, is shown in 113. This 
also is poured on end through the holes seen. 

2698 



always observable in castings in 
which massive and slight portions lie ad- 
jacent. The heavy masses shrink apparently to 
more than the normal coefficient of shrinkage, 
and the lighter masses less, with the results 
just mentioned. 



Lessening Evils Due to Shrinkage. 

The effects of shrinkages on steel castings are 
minimised in various ways. A common method 
when a casting is shrinking hard against a 
portion of mould, or of a core, is to loosen or 
remove it as soon as possible after the metal 
has set. Akin to this is the 
uncovering of heavy portions 
of moulds, especially of 
thick bosses, to hasten the 
dissipation of heat there- 
from, leaving thinner parts 
adjacent still covered. 
Another is to strengthen 
weak sections either by 
thickening the metal, or by 
casting large radii or brackets 
in. The latter are generally 
preferred because they do 
not produce " draws," as a 
thickening of the metal is 
liable to do. The exigencies 
of steel shrinkage are re- 
sponsible for the addition 
of large numbers of these 
brackets, which are inserted 
at the judgment of the 
moulder or the foreman, 
additions .which are practi- 
cally non-existent in iron- 
founding. 

As, therefore, the shape 
of a casting cannot always 
be altered at pleasure in a 
radical fashion, we see that 
the following courses are 





MECHANICAL ENGINEERING 

This is done either through the runner, or, better, 
through a riser. The metal must be poured 
dull, and quickly. But brass castings are not 
liable to fracture as those of iron are. 

The researches of the " Alloys Committee " 
bear out and help to explain facts that have 
always been known in the 
foundry in regard to the 
heat at which metal is 
poured. " Hot metal " and 
" cold metal " are in regular 
request. In casting alumi- 
nium, the difference between 
pouring at a low red and at 
a bright red heat effect 
most radical differences in 
the physical properties of 
the castings. Aluminium is 
an exception to the rule 
which ironfounders have to 
regard strictly that metal 
must be thoroughly melted 
and brought into a perfectly 
fluid state, even though it is 
subsequently poured "dead," 
or " cold." " 

Weights of Castings. 
To be able to estimate the 
weights of castings correctly 
is of value to a moulder. 
To have insufficient metal in 
the ladle is as inexcusable 
an error as having a great, 
deal too much, to be poured, 
perhaps, upon the floor. But 
as there is little time for 



open. 
Lessen 



the thickness of 

the bosses, increase the radii of the fillets 
everywhere, and increase the size and number 
of the brackets in the angles. When neces- 
sary, cast a number of brackets similar to those 
on the flanges of tank-plates, simply to reinforce 
the casting against strains 
liable to crack it. Then 
there must never be any 
abrupt angles or corners 
where the sections meet, 
but large radii or fillets, or 
strengthening brackets, must 
be inserted. Fillets often 
meet the case, but they 
should be sufficiently large 
to affect the direction of 
the lines of crystals. Even t j- 
though it should happen that , 
a finished piece of work * L_ L 
must have a keen angle, it 
must be cast with a radius, 
to be turned or planed out 
subsequently. To this rule 
there is no exception in 
steel castings. 



111. SMALL ROUND BOX WITHOUT BARS ver y accurate calculation in- 

volving a large number of 
figures, it is well to acquire the practice of 
striking rapid averages, and using a few common 
and readily remembered figures and multipliers. 
Exact methods of calculation, which in cases 
where great exactitude is required, are nob 





112. BOX USED BY BRASS-MOULDERS 



Heavy brass castings are liable to shrink and 
produce draws, and hollow and open unsound 
places. Such work is poured in much the same 
way as iron that is, it is fed with fresh hot metal 
to supply the settling down due to shrinkage. 



usually necessary when the 
object is only to learn the 
approximate quantity of 
metal to melt, or tap out 
for pouring. Some of the 
rules are associated together 
as follows : 

The basis of all calcula- 
tion is to estimate first the 
quantity of cubic inches of 
metal in a casting. This, of 
course, involves the applica- 
tion of the common rules of 
mensuration to the patterns. 



This need not be done exactly by textbook 
rules. There are many short cuts for getting at 
these in an approximate fashion. Cylindrical 
work is reckoned out in several ways. An 
annular ring of metal is readily reduced 

2699 



MECHANICAL ENGINEERING 

to a superficial plate by obtaining the circum- 
ference and multiplying that by the length. 
If the metal be thin, and the diameter large, 
no very appreciable difference will result from 
taking either internal or external diameter from 
which to deduce the circumference. But in 
proportion as the diameter diminishes and the 
metal thickens will the discrepancy increase. 
Hence, it is necessary in order to obtain correct 
results that the average diameter be taken. Then 
that may be multiplied by 3 f, or by 3-14159 for 
circumference, or a proportion sum be made thus : 

7 : 22 : : diam. : circum. 
Multiplying the circumference by the length 
and the result by the thickness gives the solid 
contents. Having a conical cylinder, the average 
diameters at each end can be taken, the cir- 
cumferences deduced, these multiplied by the 
thicknesses, the two products added together, and 



divided by 2 for the average result, and this last 
multiplied by the length for the total solidity. 
Or the average diameter and thickness can be 
taken at once and multiplied by the length. 



' U 






Another Method. Another 
way, though not quite so ready, 
is to deduct the area in 
inches of the inner diameter 
from the area in inches of 
\\ the outer diameter, which 
X V> gives the area in inches of 
the annular ring included 
x"^ ^-'' between them, and this, 

^ ' then, is multiplied by the 

, C length. To obtain areas of 

^ circles, the exact rule is : square the 
', diameter, and multiply by -7854. To 
^'' obtain areas mentally an approximate 
method is to square the diameter, and 
deduct \ from the product. In a plate 
12 in. diameter and 1 in. thick, this would 
produce an error of only 2*3 in., or a little 
over \ Ib. in weight. 

After a pattern has been divided up into 
sections, and each calculated, the swm of the 
cubic inches is taken, and multiplied thus : 
Exact ; Cubic inches x "263 = Ib. Approximate : 
Cubic inches _ 



114. SNAP FLASK 



2700 



Continued 



amount of T8 Ib. on a plate 12 in. square and 
1 in. thick, being that much below the correct 
weight, but is accurate enough for work not 
very heavy. Or allowance can be made thus : 

Cubic inches -, -, j , r , , 

. and add -$ of the product, which 

will give exactitude again. The difference bd- 
tween using -263 and -26 is only equal to -4 Ib. oin 
a plate 12 in. square and 1 in. thick. For bringing 
pounds into cwts. -009 is simple and correct 



SELLING > FEEDING LIVESTOCK 

Auctions and Markets Compared. The Sale Direct to Dealers and Butchers. 
Proportions of Albuminoids, Carbohydrates, Fats, and Minerals in Foods 



Group 1 

AGRICULTURE 
19 

FARMING 

continued from page 2627 



By Professor JAMES LONG 



SELLING LIVESTOCK 

The sale of the livestock of the farm is much 
less easy and satisfactory than the sale of corn. 
With samples in his pockets, the farmer may 
visit the corn exchange in any neighbouring 
market town, or millers and corn merchants, as 
he may judge best, but in the sale of his livestock 
much more is involved in the form of labour as 
well as in the form of judgment. A sample of 
corn may and should realise its actual value, for 
its valuation is comparatively simple, but both 
fat and store cattle, like milking cows, are almost 
invariably valued on a different basis by different 
individuals, and although a price is ultimately 
arrived at, whether at the auction mart or in the 
market, or as between a buyer and seller, there 
is seldom the same satisfaction as a result of a 
completed transaction. This is owing to various 
causes, as, for example, the weight of the actual 
carcase of a fat animal as butcher's meat, its 
quality, which can seldom be determined with 
real accuracy while the animal is living, the 
value of the offal, and the actual market value 
per stone, per score, or per cwt. It may be 
added, too, that the weights of beasts, as of dead 
meat, are reckoned in different terms in different 
parts of the country. In one district both farmer 
and butcher think and calculate in stones ; in 
others, in scores ; in others, in cwts. these being 
mere examples ; and where the buyer estimates 
weight or value in one term of figures and the 
seller in another term, the difficulty becomes 
more complicated. 

The Auction, We may briefly assume that 
there are four methods of selling livestock by 
auction ; in the open market or fair ; direct to the 
dealer or the butcher on the farm ; and through 
the medium of advertisement. The auction is 
now a very general institution. It is usually con- 
ducted by an independent auctioneer on market 
day, this gentleman running the business for his 
own profit ; but in a small number of cases farmers 
have combined, and run an auction of their own 
with the co-operation of a paid auctioneer. This 
plan is generally a good one, and should be 
extended in all parts of the country. The auc- 
tioneer has nothing to gain by leaning to the 
dealer or encouraging rings of dealers and 
butchers, which he is sometimes obliged to do 
when working on his own account, in order to 
secure and retain their patronage, for without 
the attendance of dealers many auctions would 
quickly go to the wall. Unless an auction sale 
is well attended, it is next to useless for farmers 
to send stock, even though they place reserve 
prices upon them. The buyers at the auction 
are chiefly dealers, butchers, and farmers. The 



butchers buy for slaughter, the dealers for re-sale 
to their customers farmers and butchers alike 
or sometimes for the purpose of taking their 
purchases to other markets where they anticipate 
realising higher prices. This plan, however, is a 
matter of speculation, and is justified only by 
the intelligence and expertness of the dealer. 
The stock sent to the auction mart chiefly consist 
of horses, fat cattle, calves, sheep, and pigs, 
store cattle and store sheep, and here farmers are 
frequently able to buy breeding stock, or stock 
for summer grazing or winter feeding, at reason- 
able prices and under conditions which before 
the establishment of auctions were non-existent. 
It is always well, however, to learn as far as 
possible to whom undescribed stock belongs in 
order to avoid being run up by dealer- owners or 
by rings of dealers, who sometimes combine for 
this purpose. 

Open Markets and Fairs. Stock is sold 
in the open market in almost all market towns, 
and at the occasional fairs which are held in 
different parts of the country. It is, therefore, 
important to a farmer to be sufficiently near 
several market towns that he may be able to 
avoid driving his stock long distances a practice 
which involves expense on the one hand, and loss 
of condition on the other. Fat pigs are usually 
drawn to market a plan which should be fol- 
lowed as far as possible with fat sheep and 
calves ; but, as a rule, cattle and sheep, whether 
in store or fat condition, are driven sometimes 
long distances, with the result that they may 
arrive empty, perspiring freely, with dusty, 
ragged coats or fleeces, and altogether unpre- 
sentable. In such cases considerable losses may 
result from a faulty or careless system of manage- 
ment. To realise their full value, stock sent either 
to market or auction should be presented in 
clean and good condition. Abundant time should 
be allowed for the journey, and, if the animals are 
allowed to graze and drink on the roadside 
quietly and leisurely, so much the better for the 
result. An animal should enter the sale ring 
and the remark applies equally to the open 
market pen sleek, quiet, contented, and well 
filled. It is difficult enough to obtain the value 
of stock under such conditions, but it is impossible 
to do so when condition has been lost, even though 
the loss be temporary. Fat stock is frequently 
sent to the great London and other markets 
by farmers, who place them in the hands of 
salesmen, but a salesman acting as it were as 
agent is not always to be relied upon. W T here a 
consignment is important, the farmer should 
himself attend the market and see precisely 
what happens. 

2701 



AGRICULTURE 

Sale of Slaughtered Stock. In some 
cases fat stock are slaughtered on the farm 
and this frequently happens to swine and con- 
signed to salesmen iffthe meat market, who, upon 
application, send baskets for the purpose of 
packing. On application, too, quotations may 
be obtained as to price, but the farmer will be 
wise to ignore figures, which the salesman would 
himself be the first to ignore if it pleased him. On 
receipt of the account, the price remitted may be 
less than the quotation, an explanation being 
given to the effect that the market was bad, or 
that prices had fallen. Again, however carefully 
carcases may have been weighed and weighing 
should never take place until they have cooled 
it may be found that the weights as shown by the 
butcher on his account and those taken on the 
farm are entirely different, and always in favour 
of the butcher. For these, among other reasons, 
it is difficult to recommend the practice of con- 
signing carcases to the wholesale market. In all 
cases, however, it should be emphatically under- 
stood that price depends very largely upon quality 
and condition. 

Where cows are sent into the market they 
should be of the type demanded by the buyers 
of the district. Large, big-framed cattle are 
preferred, of good quality a great point with 
many buyers young, vigorous, healthy, in 
thoroughly good condition, with large, well- 
filled udders, showing evidence of milk-producing 
power, and of such quality of flesh as would 
be likely to make good butcher's meat when the 
time arrives for fattening. 

Selling Direct to the Butcher. Where 
a farmer is able to arrange with a dealer or 
a butcher, he will find this one of the simplest 
and best methods of disposing of his stock. A 
neighbouring butcher, who can depend upon 
being supplied with a good article, is often 
willing to pay a better price than other people, 
and he is worth considering and accommodating 
if he is willing to buy with regularity. There 
are, too, many dealers who drive from farm to 
farm, and who will call and make regular pur- 
chases if they are liberally treated. It is at 
all times worth considering whether -attention 
may not be advantageously given to such men, 
and frequent expeditions of master and stock 
to market altogether avoided. In selling to a 
butcher, the stock should be sold by weight, 
and the weighing of the carcases conducted in 
the presence of the owner, a price per stone hav- 
ing been agreed upon. If, however, the butcher 
prefers to buy at a fixed price per animal, the 
farmer should learn to judge value by weight, 
and in this case a weighbridge becomes essential. 
Having ascertained the live weight, it becomes 
necessary to estimate the carcase or dead weight, 
in accordance with the condition of the animal' 
whether half-fat, or fat. Some farmers are 
excellent judges of weight ; others, with con- 
fidence in themselves, are bad judges, and fre- 
quently lose in consequence of pitting them- 
selves against the much more experienced 
butcher or dealer. 

Pedigree Stock. Where the farmer breeds 
pedigree stock, or stock of a specially good 

2702 



type intended for reproductive purposes, he 
may find many customers who will pay him 
more than market price for what he has to sell 
through the medium of advertisement. Adver- 
tisements should be frequent and explicit, but it 
is next to useless to adopt this method of selling 
unless the stock offered is good, and can be shown 
in fine condition. Intending buyers may be 
expected to pay visits of inspection, and practi- 
cally the only incentive to complete a purchase 
is given when they see before them something 
which is really attractive, as well as supported 
with a good pedigree. A really good animal, 
when young and in fine grder, will sell itself. It 
is folly to keep animals intended for sale when 
they are at their best. 

PRINCIPLES OF FEEDING 

Farm animals and their produce are, to a large 
extent, what they are made by man's ingenuity 
in the process of selection and feeding. Down 
the ages through which agriculture has been 
practised, experience has done much to econo- 
mise production, but it is probable that more 
has been accomplished during the past century 
in the one case, and in the past thirty years, in 
the other, than during all time. It has hitherto 
occupied a large portion of the life of a farmer 
to acquire by experience sufficient knowledge 
for his purpose in the matter of feeding, whereas 
to-day, owing to the results of scientific investig- 
ation, it is possible to master the principles of 
feeding in as few months, and thus to start 
with a definite purpose on practically secure 
ground. A growing plant collects from soil 
and atmosphere materials which it transforms 
into various compounds, and which, when 
consumed by animals, are converted into meat, 
milk, wool, and hair, among material products, 
and energy, to which reference will presently be 
made. What, then, are the materials upon which 
plants draw or feed for these purposes ? 

Materials on which Plants Feed. 
Among the chief are carbon (appropriated in the 
form of carbon dioxide, or carbonic acid), calcium 
(which combined with oxygen forms lime), 
potassium, sulphur, phosphorus, sodium, mag- 
nesium, and iron. Carbon, which forms the 
largest proportion among the constituents of 
plants, has been estimated to be present in the 
atmosphere-in its combined form to the extent 
of 7| tons over every acre of land, while nitrogen, 
which forms so large a proportion of the atmo- 
sphere, and which is the most expensive of the 
fertilising elements, is, so far as is at present 
known, directly appropriated by plants of the 
leguminous order alone, such as beans, peas, and 
clover ; the property they thus possess practically 
doubles their value to the farmer. As we have 
already seen, the growth of crops involves on 
all old soils, such as those of the British Isles, 
the application of manure. The principal 
reason why this application is necessary is that 
three of the constituents essential to plant life 
and growth are, so far as their availability is 
concerned, removed from the soil so rapidly and 
so effectually this fact applies in many cases 
to lime as well that, unless they are returned 



in the form of dung or chemical fertilisers, the 
soil becomes exhausted and refuses to grow a 
profitable crop. These materials are nitrogen, 
phosphoric acid, and potash. 

Animals are fed upon foods which exist in 
great variety. They include the dry fodders 
hay and straw the cereals, the pulses, roots, 
grasses, and other green crops, and the cakes, 
chiefly the residue of linseed, cotton-seed, palm- 
nut, cocoanut, rape, sesame, and others, from 
which the oil has been largely extracted. It is 
largely owing to the employment of the cakes, 
pulses, and cereals that high feeding is possible, 
and that the early maturing of stock for the 
butcher has been so successful in practice. 

Maintenance Rations. Food may be 
supplied to the animal for the purpose of main- 
tenance alone, or for maintenance plus increase 
in weight, involving the production of meat or 
the manufacture of milk. In either case it is 
well to understand in what a maintenance ration 
consists. Maintenance practically means pro- 
vision for the maintenance of the natural heat 
of the body the expenditure of force and energy 
which is most marked in the horse, and the repair 
of muscle and other tissue. When we add to 
the maintenance ration additional food, we 
provide for the growth of the foetus in the 
pregnant animal, for the growth of the young, 
for the production of meat, and for the manu- 
facture of bye-products, such as milk and wool. 
Owing in part to the difference in the structure 
of the various animals on the farm, different 
foods or combinations of food are supplied to 
stock in accordance with their special require- 
ments. Thus the horse is fed to enable him to 
draw heavy weights or to travel at high speed, 
while the dairy cow is fed for the production of 
milk. And thus it is that knowledge of the 
composition of foods, their market and manurial 
value, are so essential to both breeder and feeder. 
The food of an animal, unlike that of a plant, 
which is built up by the aid of certain constituents 
of the atmosphere, a very small proportion of the 
mineral matter of the soil, and water, must be 
practically ready-made, and composed of such 
substances, and in such proportions, as will 
maintain the normal temperature of its body, 
provide for the waste of tissue, and the expenditure 
of energy. The materials present in food which 
meet these requirements are known as protein, 
carbohydrates, and fat, and science has deter- 
mined, without laying down an inflexible law, 
what quantities of each are necessary in the 
provision of rations for horses, cattle, sheep, and 
pigs of given weights. The proportionate 
supply as between the digestible protein and the 
digestible carbohydrates for neither are com- 
pletely digested and fats, is known as the 
albuminoid ratio. 

Protein. Protein is the only food con- 
stituent which contains nitrogen ; hence it is 
sometimes described as nitrogenous matter. It 
includes the albuminoids, the specially nutritious 
nitrogenous constituent of stock foods, and the 
amides. The albuminoids provide for the 
manufacture of the muscular tissue, digestive 
organs, skin, horn, hoof, and bones, of which 



AGRICULTURE 

nitrogen forms an important part. It is also 
possible that they contribute to the formation 
of fat owing to their richness in carbon (55 per 
cent. ). For a similar reason it is believed that 
the albuminoids assist in the provision of heat 
and energy. They include the gluten of grain, the 
legumine of peas, beans, and other plants of the 
leguminous order ; the casein of milk, and the 
albumin of the egg. The elements of which the 
albuminoids are composed are carbon, oxygen, 
hydrogen, and nitrogen, sometimes with the 
addition of sulphur and phosphorus. The 
nitrogen compounds known as amides also 
undergo combustion, and produce heat and 
energy in the animal body, but there is reason 
to believe that they exert no influence in the 
formation of flesh. Foods rich in albuminoids, 
like foods rich in oil, are costly ; hence the 
importance of producing them on the farm, 
and of simultaneously providing for the feeding 
of the stock and the soil, for the reason that 
where a leguminous, crop is grown the soil is 
enriched by the nitrogen in its roots. Although 
the albuminoids are rich in carbon, it would be 
folly on account of their cost to employ them 
as food fuel, for the carbon of food undergoes 
combustion in the animal body as certainly as 
the carbon of coal in the furnace. The coarser 
foods of the farm hay, straw, and roots in 
particular which are rich in carbohydrates, 
consequently provide carbon at a much smaller 
cost. 

Carbohydrates. Carbohydrates, the chief 
of which are starch and sugar, are com- 
posed of the elements carbon, hydrogen, and 
oxygen. They are sometimes described as 
heat-giving or carbonaceous foods, a term 
which, as we have seen, may be equally applied 
to albuminoids and the fats. The carbohy- 
drates, however, are more than heat-givers, 
for they are the principal source of energy, and it 
is chiefly for this reason that they are provided 
in stock rations in much larger quantities than 
either the albuminoids or the fats. Starch and 
sugar, like cellulose, the material of which the 
cell walls and fibrous matter of plants are chiefly 
composed, are abundant in all classes of food, 
and are for the most part highly digestible. 
They are believed to be chiefly responsible for 
the production of fat. 

Fats and Oils. The fats and oils pro- 
duce upon combustion some 2-29 times as 
much heat as the carbohydrates sugar and 
starch, for the reason that they contain a much 
larger percentage of carbon ; but, unlike starch, 
they form a portion of the animal body, and 
possibly are in part deposited as animal fat 
without undergoing any marked change. The 
fat of food, in addition to its property of pro- 
viding heat, energy, and animal fat, is a valuable 
digestive, and a ready means not only of in- 
creasing weight, but of contributing to the 
appearance and condition of stock of all kinds. 
It assists, too, in preventing a waste of the 
albuminoids, for in the absence of a sufficiency 
of carbohydrates the animal would draw upon 
the carbon and hydrogen of the albuminoid 
matter it consumed. 

2703 



AGRICULTURE 

Mineral Food. Reference has been 
made to the mineral constituents of plants. 
These are practically essential to the animal, 
inasmuch as they provide for the construction of 
the bones and the manufacture of the digestive 
juices, the former containing phosphoric acid 
and lime, and the latter soda and chlorine. 
The milk of the cow, too, is rich in the mineral 
matter necessary in the building up of the 
young animal. 

Foods are not all digested. Practically 
speaking, portions of each constituent pass 
through the system unappropriated, and it is, 
therefore, essential to know not only the names 
of the most economical and essential foods, but 
the proportions of each of their constituents 
which are digestible and nutritious. 

The tables on this page which include the chief 
stock foods arranged in their several divisions, 
show the approximate percentages of water, 
digestible albuminoids, carbohydrates, and fats. 

The foods rich in oil or fat are linseed (35 per 
cent.), cotton-seed (27'3 per cent.), palmnut 
(48 per cent.), linseed cake, cotton-seed cake, 
cocoanut cake, maize-germ meal, rice meal, 
palmnut cake. Foods rich in ash, or mineral 
matter, vary from O7 per cent, in roots to 10 
per cent, in rice meal, and 7 per cent, in rye 
grass, clover, good meadow hay and vetch hay ; 
the straws, chaff, and the leading cakes, all of 
which are rich in the same materials. The 
figures which have been supplied here at once 
indicate which foods are the most concentrated 
and the most valuable. If we add together 
the percentages of albuminoids, carbohydrates, 
and fat, we are enabled still further to ascer- 
tain which foods provide the largest amount 
of nutritive matter, and, therefore, guided by 
market prices, which, in most cases, are the most 
economical. For instance, if we desire to choose 
between maize and oats, not being tied by any 
consideration for the provision of albuminoids, 
we find that while maize contains 73'8 per cent. 
Df digestible nutritious matter, oats only contain 
57 per cent. Thus, supposing both foods cost the 
same sum say, 2s. 6d. per bushel the maize 
weighing 60 Ib. per bushel supplies 44 Ib. of 
nutritive matter, while oats weighing only 
40 Ib. in a good sample 38 Ib. being more 
common provide only 22 Ib. of nutritious 
matter, or almost precisely one-half. In such 
a case the food in the oats would cost double 
as much as the food in the maize, as we have 
fully explained elsewhere. We have always, 
however, to consider the importance of the 
albuminoids where they are not provided in the 
fodder of the farm, and still further to take 
an important example in feeding a horse we 
have to remember that owing not only to its 
higher percentage in albuminoids, but to the 
presence of a larger quantity of husk and its 
consequently greater safety, the oat possesses 
a mechanical value which adds something to 
its economic worth. 

Relative Values of Foods. In pur- 
chasing a food, it is sometimes useful to estimate 
its relative value as compared with other foods 
by the adoption of a system which, making 
2704 



Foods. 


Water 


Digestible. 


Albumin 
oids. 


Carlwhv- 
drates. 


Fat?. 


NITROGENOUS DRY FOOD8 


Linseed cake 


12-2 24-8 


27-5 


8-9 


Decorticated cotton- 










cake 


11-2 


31-0 


18-3 


12-0 


Common cotton-cake 


11-3 


17-5 


14-9 


5-5 


Palmnut cake 


10-5 


16-1 


5o'4 


9-5 


Rape oake 


11-3 


25-3 


23-8 


7'7 


Cocoanut cake 


9-4 


18-2 


47-4 


11-2 


Sunflower cake 


10-3 


31-3 


24-7 


7-6 


Sesame cake 


11-5 


28-0 


16-1 


10-4 


Beans 


U'5 


23-0 


50-2 


1-4 


Peas 


14-3 


20-2 


54-4 


1-7 


Lentils 


16-5 


21-4 


46-0 


2-2 


Wheat bran (coarse) . . 


12-9 


12-6 


42'7 


2-6 


Malt combs 


10-1 


19-4 


45-0 


1-7 


Brewers' grains 


76-6 


3-9 


10-8 


0-8 


Desiccated grains 


12-0 


19:1 


42-0 


8-5 


Shorts, or middlings 


12-5 


10-8 


44-8 


2-8 


NITROGENOUS GREEN FOODS 


Red clover (in full 










flower) 


80-4 


1-7 


8-7 


0-4 


White clover (in full 










flower) 


80'5 


2-2 


7-9 


0-5 


Alsike clover (in full 










flower) 


82-0 


1 -8 


6-9 


0-3 


Lucerne (in flower) 


74-0 


3-2 


9-1 


0-3 


Sainfoin 


81-4 


3-0 


7'9 


0-5 


Crimson clover 


81-5 


! 


7-6 


0-3 


Vetches 


82-0 


2-5 


6-7 


0-3 


Peas .. 


81-6 


2-2 


7-4 


0-3 


Rape 


87-5 


2-0 


4-8 


0-4 


DRY FODDER 


Lucerne (good) 


16-5 


12-3 


31-4 


1-0 


Sainfoin 


16-7 


7-6 


35-8 


1-4 


Vetch hay (medium) 


16-7 


9-4 


32-5 


1 '5 


Red clover (medium) 


16-6 


10-7 


37-6 


2-1 


CARBONACEOUS DRY FOODS 


Wheat 


14-4 


11-7 


64-3 


1-2 


Barley .. 


14-3 


8-0 


58-9 


1-7 


Oats 


14-3 


9-0 


43-3 


4-7 


Maize 


14-4 


8-4 


60-6 


4-8 


Malt 


7-5 


7-5 


62-8 


1-6 


Ricemeal (good) 


11-5 


11-2 


52-9 


13-9 


Maize germ-meal 


il-9 


10-5 


44-0 


14-8 


Buckwheat 


14-0 


6-8 


47-0 


1-2 


Rye 


]4'3 


9-9 


65-4 


1-6 


Meadow hay (poor) . . 


14-3 


3-4 


34-9 


0-5 


Meadow hay (good) . . 


15-0 


7-4 


41-7 


1-3 


Rye hay (good) . . 
Perennial ryegrass 


14-3 


6-6 


44-3 


1-3 


(good) 


14-3 


5-1 


35-3 


0-8 


Wheat straw 


14'3 


0-8 


35-6 


0-4 


Rye straw 


14-3 


0-8 


36-5 


0-4 


Barley straw (sum 










mer) 


14-3 


1-3 


40-6 


0-5 


Oat straw 


14-3 


1-4 


40-1 


0-7 


Vetch straw . . 


16-0 


3'4 


31-9 


0-5 


Pea haulm 


16-0 


2-9 


33-4 


0-5 


Bean straw 


16-0 


5-0 


35-2 


0-5 


CARBONACEOUS GREEN AND OTHER 


SUCCULENT FOODS 


Potatoes 


75-0 


2-1 


2T8 


0-2 


Mangels 


88-0 


1 


10-0 


O'l 


Carrots 


85-0 


4 


12-5 


0-2 


Turnips 


92.0 


1 


6-1 


o-i 


Swedes 


87-0 


3 


6-3 


o-i 


Parsnips 


88-3 


6 


11-2 


0-2 


Green maize 


82-2 


0-7 


8-4 


0-3 


Cabbage 


89-0 


1-1 


6-0 


0-2 


Kohl Rabi 


85-0 


2-0 


7'7 


0-4 


Pasture grass (average) 


80-0 


2-5 


9-9 


0'4 






allowance for the fluctuations of market prices, 
is a help to the buyer ; we refer to what is 
known as " unit value," which, however, 
is more commonly applied to the purchase of 
artificial manures. A unit of albuminoids has 
been estimated to be worth 2s., of carbohydrates 
Is., and of fat 2s. 6d. Thus, supposing we 
take maize to illustrate our case. We find from 
the figures in the table that this cereal contains, 
roundly, 8'4 per cent, or units of albuminoids 
which at 2s = 16s. 9d., 4'8 per cent, or units of 
fat which at 2s. 6d. amounts to 12s., and 60|- 
units (60'6 per cent.) of carbohydrates at Is., or 
3 Os. 6d., giving a total of 4 9s. 3d. One ton or 
4f quarters of maize at 20s. would equal 4 12s. 6d. 
Taking a series of years although prices have 
been higher of late 20s. is about the average 
cost of maize purchased wholesale, so that at this 
price a ton the quantity with which we are 
dealing in the calculation would cost but little 
more than the valuation. If similar calculations 
are made as applicable to other foods, wider 
differences may appear, but it is always im- 
portant to add the manurial value of the food 
on the basis of the estimated proportions of the 
nitrogen, phosphoric acid, and potash obtained 
from it, and voided in the solid and liquid 
excrement of the animal. [See page 589.] 

Compound Foods. In purchasing com- 
pound foods, such as cakes and meals, it is im- 
portant that the buyer, guided by the Fertilising 
and Feeding Stuffs Act, which was passed for 
his spe'cial protection, should submit a sample 
to the public analyst, appointed for the purpose, 
for analysis. He will, under defined conditions 
obtainable from the Board of Agriculture, or 
from the Act itself, be required to send a dupli- 
cate sample to the vendor, together with notice 
of his intention, and if, as should have been the 
case, he obtains a guarantee of purity or quality, 
he will be in a position to obtain compensation 
should the article he purchases not correspond 
with the analysis. Although the best makers 
and merchants may be trusted, there are so 
many cases of deliberate fraud or loss, the 
result of ignorance, on the part of vendors that 
no exceptions should be made in this matter, 
especially as every County Council retains an 
analyst who conducts the work at a nominal 
fee. The loss sustained by a purchaser of an 
inferior or adulterated food is not confined to the 
difference in market value, for if purchased in large 
quantities his stock may suffer to an extent 
which may not be readily understood. Analysis 
is not arbitrary so far as regards the percentages 
of food constituents, inasmuch as samples 
differ, although in a minor degree, and this 
applies not only to manufactured or compound 
foods, such as cakes and meal, but to grain, 
hay, roots, and practically every crop that 
grows. 

Digestibility of Different Foods. 
One of the most important features in dealing 
with such figures as most tables of analysis supply 
is to remember that it is the digestible consti- 
tuents, and not the total constituents or dry 
matter of food, which are of importance. Young 
grass is much more digestible than older grass ; 



AGRICULTURE 

finely cut, crushed, ground or steamed food 
than whole, raw, or coarse food ; and slightly fer- 
mented mixtures of roots, chaff, grains, meal, 
and cake than the same foods fresh and cold. 
The digestive juices are able to act with greater 
thoroughness upon food composed of fine 
particles than upon food which is coarse in 
character ; and while individuality accounts for 
much, it is certain that rations given in small 
quantities, and carefully and finely prepared, 
are followed by the best results. Again, owing 
to the difference in the physiological structure 
of the digestive organs of cattle and sheep, as 
compared with those of horses and pigs, the 
two former require bulkier foods and a larger 
proportion of fibrous matter. It has already 
been pointed out that foods differ in their diges- 
tibility ; and, further, that the digestive powers 
of different animals also vary; and that the 
cereals and young plants are more perfectly 
digested than dried fodders, such as hay and 
straw. The carbohydrates, starch and sugar, 
are practically all digested, although the starches 
of different plants vary in the time occupied 
in their digestion. Again, there is a difference 
in the digestibility of fats and oils ; and although 
little is known which can be regarded as exact, 
it is believed that their absorption in the system 
of the animal is fairly complete. Something 
depends, too, upon the aroma of food and its 
flavour. If it is agreeable to the animal and is 
relished, the glands are stimulated, with the 
result that a marked influence is exerted on the 
digestive apparatus. Again, the larger the ration 
the more slowly is the food digested. 

The Carcase. Let us now mention a few 
facts in relation to the carcase of the animal. 
In feeding for the butcher there is a percentage 
decrease of water, nitrogenous matter and 
minerals, with an increase of fat. Thus, owing to 
the diminution of the water percentage, a larger 
amount of food is produced in the carcase, although 
in the case of really fat stock this means con- 
siderable waste ; for while the purchaser of a joint 
pays for the extra fat, he seldom consumes it. In 
a half-fat animal, the dry matter of the carcase 
is about equal to its water contents. Comparing 
the fat beast with the lean beast, there is a 
smaller proportion of the fertilising constituents 
of food, nitrogen, phosphoric acid, and lime in 
the former than in the latter. Thus, when fat 
stock are sold off the farm there is relatively 
less fertility carried away than when the animals 
sold are in store condition. Again, although 
the loss of the mineral fertilisers present in the 
carcase of a beast is in the gross really small in 
quantity, weight for weight, cattle sold off the 
farm take with them more than sheep, and sheep 
more than swine. The fertilising matter removed 
in milk and the crops of the farm grain, pulse, 
hay, and the like is much larger in quantity than 
that removed in fat stock, so that the feeder 
who consumes his own crops loses very little 
fertility. The cost of feeding Irish store cattle, 
which are so largely purchased by English 
farmers for fattening for the butcher, has been 
estimated to reach 17 at 2^ years old, while in 
Scotland the cost at 20 months is "estimated at 

2705 



AGRICULTURE 

18 12s., these figures including insurance, 
interest on capital, attendance, and grazing. 

The Albuminoid Ratio. The albu- 
minoid ratio may be regarded as the proportion 
of digestible nitrogenous matter present in a 
food as compared with the carbohydrates 
and the fats estimated as carbohydrates. The 
opinions of experts differ to some slight extent 
as to the figures of the ratio, but we may take it 
that the ration supplied to the animals of the 
farm shall consist of one part of digestible 
albuminoids to from five to six parts of carbo- 
hydrates and fat, the fat being estimated 
as a carbohydrate by multiplying its percentage 
by 2-29, this being its relative heat and energy- 
producing capacity. Let us illustrate our case 
by an example taken from conscious life. A 
man taking average exercise requires about 
4,500 grains (say, 10 oz.) of carbon and 300 grains 
(about | oz.) of nitrogen daily as a maintenance 
ration. Suppose the food he consumes consists 
solely of bread, he would require 4 Ib. daily 
in order to obtain the necessary nitrogen; but 
as 4 Ib. of bread contains nearly 20 oz. of carbon, 
this system of maintenance would result in 
waste. Thus it is that a food like bread, which 
is rich in carbon, is eaten in conjunction with 
other foods taken in smaller quantities, such as 
meat, fish, or cheese, which are rich in nitrogen. 
Taking a number of authorities collectively, 
we find that on the basis of their investigations 
an average man doing a moderate amount of 
muscular exercise requires 120 grammes of 
protein, 500 grammes of carbohydrates, and 50 to 
60 grammes of fat. See " Principles of Dietetics " 
(Hutchinson). Here, then, we get a ratio of 1 to 
5 - 5. We remember an instance of a small farmer 
who fed a few cows solely upon mangels, which, 
apart from the unsuitability of their bulk, 
are extremely poor in albuminoids ; but suppos- 
ing the whole of the albuminoids in the mangel 
to be all digestible and nutritious which is not 
the case a cow of 1,000 Ib. weight would have 
to consume nearly 250 Ib. of the roots in order 
to enable her to obtain a sufficient quantity 
of nitrogen to meet her maintenance require- 
ments alone. If, however, she were able to 
consume this quantity and to digest it, she would 
obtain 25 Ib. of digestible carbohydrates, or 
about twice the quantity required in a mere 
maintenance ration. 

The Value of Grass. Let us now take 
an example in order to show how the 
albuminoid ratio is calculated. Grass which, 
when good, is admirably balanced as a food 
for cows, will serve as an excellent example ; it 
contains 2-5 per cent, of digestible albuminoids, 
10 per cent, of carbohydrates, and 0'5 per cent, 
of fat. The fat is multiplied by 2 -29, as we have 
shown. The result thus obtained is added to 
the carbohydrates and divided by the percentage 
of albuminoids. Thus 

10-0 H- (0-5 x 2-29) . 

-i O 

so that the albuminoid ratio of good grass is 
t-458, practically as 1 is to 4 ; so rich is it indeed 
that grass of high quality may, therefore, be 
regarded as a nitrogenous food. 
2706 



Food for a Cow. It has been laid down 
on the basis of many investigations, especially 
in Germany and the United States, that a 
cow weighing 1,000 Ib. requires for the main- 
tenance of her carcase and the provision of 
heat and energy 15'41b. of digestible nutritious 
dry matter, which, in terms of ordinary 
farm rations, is practically equivalent to 241b. 
of the organic matter of her daily food supply. 
Some investigators, however, slightly increase 
the quantity of dry matter. The figures referred 
to (15'4 Ib.) should provide some 2 Ib. of 
digestible albuminoids, 12^ Ib. of carbohydrates, 
and 0'4 Ib. of fat, so that the albuminoid ratio 
would be as 1 is to 5'4. In the practice of the 
farm, rations frequentljf contain a larger pro- 
portion of the carbohydrates, especially where 
large quantities of straw, roots, and maize are 
used ; while in other cases, especially during the 
summer season, when clover, vetches, and rich 
grasses are provided, the proportion of albu- 
minoids may be very distinctly raised. The 
wisest plan, however, is 1 by the adoption of the 
system of recording the weights and varieties 
of food supplied and the milk produced, to 
ascertain which foods are the most economical. So 
far, reference has been made to the provision of 
food for the maintenance of a cow. When she is 
in milk, however, she requires, in round numbers, 
an additional pound of digestible dry matter 
for every gallon she produces. Thus, an animal 
yielding 5 gallons per day a rather exceptional 
quantity would require, on the basis of Wolff's 
figures, 20'4 Ib. of digestible dry matter of 
similar composition. 

Scientific Feeding. Much, however, as 
investigation and experiment has accomplished, 
we should regard these figures as *" merely 
indicative of what science has so far been able to 
teach us, and the farmer who, while adopting the 
principle, experiments for himself, may possibly 
find that he obtains more economical results, 
especially when he produces his own food-stuffs, 
by the provision of slightly larger quantities 
of the carbonaceous foods on the one hand, 
or of the nitrogenous foods on the other. Where 
it becomes essential to purchase foods which are 
rich in nitrogen, they should be used sparingly 
on account of their higher cost, for they are 
only required for their nitrogenous constituents, 
the much less costly carbohydrates being obtain- 
able on the farm, or at little cost on the market. 

In purchasing foods it is well to guard against 
those which contain large proportions of indi- 
gestible matter. The value of food is chiefly in 
proportion to what is actually absorbed by the 
animal's economy, and especially should we re- 
member that there are portions of the albuminoids 
which are never oxidised and which pass away 
in the urine. Another source of loss is found as 
the result of the fermentation of bulky foods 
rich in carbohydrates. Gases are produced, and 
the energy value of the food is lost ; hence 
the importance of thorough mastication, of well- 
prepared and appetising rations, and of good 
digestion, which we expect to find in stock of 
robust and healthy character. 



SEWING THREAD MANUFACTURE 

Sewing" Thread. Twisting or Doubling. English Dry and Wet Doubling 
and Scotch Doubling Systems. Dressing. Gassing and Spooling 



Group 28 

TEXTILES 
19 



Continued froi 
page 2598 



By W. S. MURPHY 



CEWING thread manufacture is the highest 
E form of doubling ; the thread maker is alone 
the complete doubler. In the thread factory all 
the processes of doubling are summarised. No 
other industry exhibits so clearly the strength of 
capital in modern manufacture. An essentially 
simple process, involving few exclusive patents, 
open to anyone who likes to start, thread 
manufacture is dominated by three world-em- 
bracing syndicates, and, up to the present, no 
one outside the syndicates has a chance. The 
names of the companies are : J. and P. Coats, 
Limited ; English Sew- 
ing Cotton Company, 
Limited; American 
Thread Company, Limi- 
ted. The competition of 
the three companies is 
practically nil ; they have 
each a denned sphere. 

In thread manufacture 
we use very high counts 
of yarn, sewing thread 
running from 60's up to 
300's. Machine threads 
call for lower counts, 
ranging from 30's up to 
80' s. As a rule, the 
yarns come in hanks, 
and the first operation of 
thread manufacture is winding. This being a 
simple operation, we need hardly delay over it. 
As has been shown, the winding is performed 
almost 
automati- 
cally. 

Twist= 
ing. The 
bobbins 
are taken 
to the 
twisting 
d e par t- 
ment. Ma- 
chine sew- 
ing threads 
need very 
little twist, 
and the 
twisting of 
these is 
done on the 
mule. Sew- 
ing threads 
h o we v er 
are produc- 
ed on the 
frame by 




109. ENGLISH 

DRY DOUBLING 
SYSTEM 



110. ENGLISH 

WET DOUBLING 

SYSTEM 




112. RING DOUBLER FOR WET OR DRY WORK 



the ring traveller. But this is something more 
than a spinning frame [112]. Note the differ- 
ences. From the top creel, on which three, four, 
five, or six rows of bobbins are set, the threads 
are led through guide eyes, and all the threads 
of each set are combined together in the doubling 
rollers. Below the rollers, in the wet doubling 
frame along the whole length of the frame, lies 
a shallow trough full of hot water. Passing 
through this, the cords come down through the 
ring traveller on to the bobbin. As in the 
spinning frames, the traverse rail moves up and 
down, distributing the 
thread evenly over tha 
bobbin. 

Different Systems 
of Doubling. While 
the principle of doubling 
or twisting is readily 
understood in its general 
application, there are 
different modes of appli- 
cation to which some 
attention should be paid. 
The three principal 
systems are : (1) English 
111. SCOTTISH drv system; (2) English 
SYSTEM wet ^m ; (3) Scotch 
OF DOUBLING system. We are indebted 
to Messrs. Hethermgton 
& Sons, Manchester, for the diagrams illustrating 
the three systems. 

English Dry Doubling System. In 

this system 
[109] the 
yarn comes 
from the 
bobbin A, 
and passes 
under the 
iron rod B, 
and over 
glass 
slit guide 
through 
the rollers, 
and round 
the top 
roller C, 
afterwards 
encircling 
a small 
glass pillar, 
and again 
pa ssing 
through 
the rollers 
and down 

2707 



TEXTILES 

on to the ring traveller D, and round the bobbin 
on the spindle E. The upper roller is made of 
polished cast iron, and the bottom roller is of 
fine steel. 

English Wet Doubling System^ On 
this frame [110] the yarn is brought down from 
the bobbin A, and in under a glass rod B, which 
is set in the water trough. Next the yarn, now 
wet, passes through the guide on to the roller 
C into the clasp of the traveller D, and thence 
round the bobbin E. The water troughs are 
placed behind and independent of the rollers, 
and may be in short lengths of copper, wood, 
zinc, of porcelain. Alternatively, if it be pre- 
ferred, the troughs may be made the whole length 
of frame, with taps at the ends for filling or 
running off the water. The short troughs are 
more easily cleaned and attended to, but the 
long troughs are sometimes preferred. 

Scottish System of Doubling. One dis- 
tinctive feature of the Scottish frame is that it 
has always the 
trough of water. 
We do not say, 
however, that the 
Scottish doublers 
use no dry 
doubling frames. 
On the contrary, 
even the wet frame 
can be converted 
very simply into a 
dry doubler. The 
Scotch system is 
simpler and more 
direct than either 
of the English 
systems, though 
that may not 

always be a merit. 1137 COTTON REEL 

The diagram [111] 

clearly shows the difference. Coming from the 
bobbin A, the yarn passes through the guide eye 
into the trough B, and round under the brass rol- 
ler revolving in the trough, and up round the top 
roller C, thence to the traveller D, and on to the 
bobbin E. The trough is continuous through 
the whole frame. We have to note specially 
the rollers. The roller in the trough is hollow 
brass, of 2 in. diameter, and can be raised out 
of the water by means of a worm gear and 
handle placed at the end of the frame. The top 
rollers are solid and brass-covered, and of 
1^ in. diameter. 

It must be understood that though the dia- 
grams show only one bobbin delivering the yarn, 
there are, in actual practice, as many bobbins as 
there are threads to be doubled. In each case 
the separate threads join at the first point of 
contact on the frame, and run together through 
the operation. 

Two-coloured and three-coloured threads are 
twisted dry, on either the mule or the ring 
traveller frame. 

White sewing threads are bleached ; coloured 
threads are dyed. Many firms hand over this 
work to others. But even when we elect to 
carry through the whole process, those opera- 

2708 




tions are wrought in separate establishments. 
[See DYEING.] 

Dressing. When the threads come back 
from the bleacher, they are raw and harsh. 
Nobody would buy .those threads. The bleacher 
has, we may suppose, wound our threads on to 
the bobbins again, and the bobbins are hung 
on the bank of the dressing machine. A bank 
is a high frame fitted with horizontal spindles to 
hold the bobbins in such freedom as allows the 
thread to come off easily. From the bank the 
threads are led through a comb, arid in between 
a pair of rollers revolving on the brink of a vat 
containing hot size. A roller in the centre of the 
vat bears the range of threads down into the 
size, and as it emerges* at the other side,! a pair 
of heavily-clothed rollers clear it of superfluous 
liquid. Next, the threads wind in spiral fashion 
round a cylinder steam-heated within, and at 
the second turn pass between circular brushes 
which rub them clear. A pair of heated brass 

rollers now draw 
the slender white 
cords on and bur- 
nish them. At 
the end a bank 
with a winding 
apparatus winds 
the thread on to 
the spools again, 

Gassing. 
Spooling is the 
next general oper- 
ation ; but for fine 
threads we have a 
process properly 
named gassing. 
As a rule, gassing 
is performed on 
the spooling 
frame ; but it 

may be as well to study it by itself. Even after 
all our dressing, brushing, and burnishing, in- 
finitesimal little ends of cotton stick out from 
the thread. One is almost invisible, but they 
are there by the thousand on every inch, and 
give a rough appearance to the finely-drawn 
cords. Various methods have been devised to 
remove this fluff ; but burning by gas is the 
only way which has yet been found to produce 
satisfactory results. The heat from pure coal 
gas is both very strong and diffusive. Passing 
thread of delicate texture through a very small 
jet of such gas, even at the highest speed practic- 
able, would be sure to scorch. But a current of air 
can be introduced into gas to cool it. The threads 
are passed through the flames of bluish colour, 
and emerge quite white, yet freed from all fluff. 
Spooling. Conditions of climate, national 
custom, and use, determine the form of the 
sewing-thread spool. On that account, we have 
a large number of spooling machines some, 
indeed, should be called batting machines. But 
we can safely consider the whole lot in three 
classes the cross winders, the split drums, and 
the common horizontal spooling machines. 

Cross Winders. About the winders we 
have little to learn. Geared to run at very high 



TEXTILES 




114. SPIJT DRUM WINDER 

(Wm. Whiteley & Sons, Ltd., Lockwood) 

speed, and with a cam or an eccentric plate 
acting on the guides which distribute the thread 
on the bobbin, or spool, these winders are easy 
to manage ; in fact, they have been so well con- 
trived as to work almost by themselves. 

Split Drums Spooling Frames. More 
interesting are the split drums spoolers [114]. 
The bobbin with the dressed thread is slung at 
the head of the machine, and the thread is led 
through the split in a drum to the spool in 
front. The drum is split in scallop fashion, 
the line curving from side to side. In its passage 
through the drum the thread is carried from 
side to side, distributing evenly all over the 
spool. Revolving under a heavy roller, or 
cylinder, the spool takes on the thread, the weight 
of the cylinder making a very firm and compact 
roll of thread. All the motions being direct, 
this machine can develop a high rate of speed. 

Combined Gassing and Spooling. For 
the bobbins or spools in common use among 
ourselves, the combined gassing and spooling 
machine is mostly utilised in thread factories. 
It is almost identical with the cleaning and 
gassing machine already illustrated in 105 



(page 2596). 
The frames are long ; 
but one spool is made up aa 
elaborately as a hundred. Every 
spool has its own spindle and feed- 
ing bobbin. It is on this frame, with its 
long row of blue gas jets, that the stop-motion 
principle is to be seen working to perfection. 
Connected with the driving gear of the spindle 
is a wire, not unlike a lady's hairpin, supported 
by the passage of the thread. When the thread 
slackens or breaks, the wire falls, and throws the 
spindle out of gear. The gearing of the spindle 
can be set to run out 200, 300, 400, 500, or 
600yd. of thread. If it were to run on after 
the thread had ceased to run, the number of 
revolutions of the spindle and the amount of 
thread on the spool would not correspond. 
Confusion would thus arise from the very 
appliances devised to make order sure. The 
finished spool [113] is a compact and neat 
bobbin, round which the thread lies firm and 
close. Before going out to the public the spool 
is labelled and otherwise finished. 

There are several little points in the thread 
industry, and on the machines, which might 
be worthy of note, if it were possible to show 
them on the machines themselves ; but that is 
beyond our scope. But after all has been shown, 
the wonder yet remains that so great wealth 
as has been won in thread manufacture could 
have been acquired in a process so simple. One 
could make a thread factory of a four -roomed 
cottage. 



Continued 



2709 



Group 5 

CHEMISTRY 
19 

Continued from 
page '2554 



ORGANIC CHEMISTRY 

What is Meant by Organic Chemistry. The Power Within Living Things. 
The Plant as a Synthetic Chemist. Biochemistry. The Carbon Compounds 



By Dr. C. W. SALEEBY 



conception of chemistry as divided into 
inorganic and organic is almost as old as 
the science itself. It was conceived that there 
is an absolute distinction between chemical 
bodies characteristic of living matter and those 
found elsewhere. It could scarcely be maintained 
that the living body contained no substances 
found elsewhere, but those found elsewhere were 
regarded as, if not accidental, at any rate of scant 
importance. There remained many substances 
characteristic of the living body which, it was 
asserted, could be produced only by living 
agency. The whole question is so important, 
having a significance which far outsoars the 
bounds of chemistry, that we propose to 
deal with it here very carefully. The question is 
this : What are the grounds on which we declare 
that the division of chemistry into inorganic and 
organic is false and must be abandoned ? 

The Elements of Life. It is, of course, 
indisputable that the living bodies of animals 
and of plants contain chemical compounds, 
utterly beyond number, which are not met 
elsewhere. These compounds on analysis prove 
to be composed of elements already familiar 
to the chemist, while the number of organic 
compounds can be estimated only in billions of 
billions, these not being found naturally, except 
in the living body. The study of these com- 
pounds, in whatever number they are studied, 
reveals no element peculiar to life. So far as the 
elements are concerned, there is no foundation for 
the term organic chemistry. Elements constantly 
found in living organs there may be and are, 
but no element whatever not found elsewhere. 

This is surely what we must expect. We may 
supply a plant with absolutely nothing but known 
compounds or elementary substances, such as 
oxygen, carbonic acid, nitrates, and the like ; and 
we^find that in these conditions, if provided with 
sunlight, it flourishes. The ordinary " inorganic 
elements " suffice whether as elements or 
combined for its nutriment. If it be killed 
and its body analysed, it reveals no other element. 
. Vital Force. This, of course, is a funda- 
mental fact, and is a conclusion as significant as 
that of astronomical chemistry when it tells us 
that the elements of the stars are the same as 
those of the earth. But there remained the 
supposition that there is a special and unique 
power within the living body, whether of the 
animal or of the plant, which fashions its food so 
as to form compounds which can be produced 
by living organisms alone, and which may there- 
fore be called unique. The process is entirely 
one of building-up, or anabolism or synthesis 
Elements or simple compounds are supplied 
to the plant, and it combines them in such a 

2710 



fashion as to produce starch, sugar, albumen, or 
what not which the chemist could not imitate. 
There is therefore, it was said, a " vital force," 
a thing incomparable with merely physical 
forces, and capable of doing what these cannot do. 

In virtue of this fordfe, the' living organism, 
though it cannot make new elements and 
though it contains no elements peculiar to itself, 
can yet make new compounds, and is able to 
display compounds peculiar to itself they said. 

Vitalism. Thus the old distinction of 
chemistry into organic and inorganic depended 
upon the doctrine of vitalism, which asserted 
that living things are possessed of a unique 
force, independent of the law of the conserva- 
tion and transformation of energy, and capable 
of accomplishing what even the sum of all the 
physical energies in the Universe could not 
accomplish. In this connection one cannot do 
better than quote from the recently- issued first 
volume of Professor Meldola's great work, " The 
Chemical Synthesis of Vital Products." The 
professor says : " If asked, as I frequently have 
been during the progress of the work, what posi- 
tion synthetical chemistry occupies with respect 
to the doctrines of vitalism or Neovitalism, I 
think it advisable to place upon record the opinion 
that the present achievements in the domain of 
chemical synthesis furnish no warrant for the 
belief that the chemical processes of the living 
organisms are in any sense transcendental, or that 
they must be regarded as belonging to a class of 
special material transformations which human 
science will never be able to reproduce. Such 
an admission as the latter would be tantamount 
to a proclamation of Neovitalism ; but the 
whole history of organic synthesis, from the time 
when it was declared that organic compounds 
could be obtained only by living agency, is 
opposed to any such conclusion. But although 
the doctrine of a special vital force has received 
its death-blow at the hands of modern science, 
and although there is no warrant for the belief 
that the physics or chemistry of animals and 
plants is ultra-scientific, yet it must not be lost 
sight of that the synthetical possibilities of the 
living organism have brought us face to face 
with modes of chemical action of which we are 
as yet profoundly ignorant." 

The point raised in the latter part of this 
quotation must, of course, be returned to. 
Meanwhile, we may content ourselves with this 
authoritative pronouncement as regards vitalism 
in its revelations to organic chemistry. 

Pioneers. The year 1828 is usually 
regarded as furnishing the most important date 
in the history of this subject. It was in tha.t 
year that Wohler announced his discovery 




1 = 



that it is possible to construct the organic 
compound urea by synthesis from a salt called 
ammonium cyanate. As Professor Meldola pointed 
out more than ten years ago, equal honour must 
be accorded to an Englishman, Henry Hennell, 
who " succeeded in synthetising alcohol from 
olefiant gas at practically the same time as his 
great German contemporary had excited the 
interest of the whole chemical world by his 
synthesis of urea." In neither case was the 
argument perfect. Hennell obtained his olefiant 
gas from organic matter oil, while the German 
attained his ammonium cyanate " by fusing 
nitrogenous organic matter with an alkaline 
carbonate." Only a few years later, however, 
the arguments were made perfect by the per- 
formance of the intermediate steps, and it was 
absolutely established that certain substances, 
hitherto thought to be producible only by the 
living body, could be built up or synthetised 
by chemists from their very elements. Nor was 
it necessary to obtain these elements from dead 
bodies ; the nitrogen of the air was as effective 
for these purposes as nitrogen obtained by pro- 
cesses of decomposition. 

The pioneers were bold men, so that, in 1838, 
the great Liebig and Wohler dared to say " From 
researches the philosophy of chemistry 
must draw the conclusion that the synthesis of 
all organic compounds which are not organised 
must be looked upon not merely as probable but 
as certain of ultimate achievement." 

The Father of Synthetic Chemistry. 
There still lives, when these words are written, 
the illustrious genius who may almost be 
regarded as the founder of synthetic chemistry. 
Of modern synthetic chemistry as a practical 
mitter he is certainly the founder. This is 
Professor Marcellin Berthelot, whose jubilee 
has lately been celebrated in France. When 
he began his work, the great names in 
chemistry propagated sayings such as these. The 
great Swede Berzelius said: " Even if we should 
succeed in producing, with inorganic bodies, sub- 
stances of composition similar to those of organic 
products, this mere imitation would give 
us no hope that we could ever produce the 
actual things themselves, as we succeed, in 
most cases, in confirming the analysis of the 
mineral bodies by effecting their synthesis in 
turn." And Gerhardt put the popular doctrine 
more effectively when he said: " The chemist 
does precisely the opposite of living nature ; 
he burns, destroys, operates by analysis, while the 
vital force alone may synthetise. It rebuilds the 
edifice which chemical forces have broken down." 
But Berthelot soon followed up the pioneer 
work of Wohler and Hennell. He made alcohol 
and formic acid. He began to make fats and 
sugars ; he showed that acetylene, now familiar 
as a gas for the lamps of motor-cars and so on, 
can be produced by direct combination of carbon 
and hydrogen when the electric arc passes 
between carbon poles in an atmosphere of 
hydrogen. This gas can be synthetised in 
half a dozen other ways, its formula being C. 2 H.,, 
d its original synthesis by Berthelot led 
the making of innumerable compounds, 



CHEMISTRY 

including ordinary alcohol, benzene, and their 
numberless derivatives. Berthelot's greatest 
work appeared in 1860, and though he has 
lately devoted himself to many other matters, 
he remains the greatest of synthetic chemists. 

The most distinguished of his successors is 
Professor Emil Fischer, of Berlin, who has 
mastered the making of the -sugars, and even, 
as is far more significant, the making of certain 
bodies which are at any rate all but albuminous. 

We may close our account of the history of 
the subject by reference to the large first volume 
of Professor Meldola' s work from which we have 
already quoted. The number of vital products 
that have been made by artificial means ran 
into tens of thousands long ago, and the pro- 
phecy of Liebig and Wohler is well on the way 
towards fulfilment. 

New Compounds. Not only can an 
enormous number of vital products be made 
artificially, but the synthetic chemist has now 
learnt how to call into being a constantly 
increasing host of bodies which are closely 
allied to vital products, but which are entirely 
unknown in living or in lifeless nature. Of 
these, thousands and thousands are of interest 
at present to the chemist alone, but, on the 
other hand, many fulfil practical functions of 
the greatest value to mankind. Many most 
valuable drugs, inducing sleep, relieving fever, 
relieving pain, destructive to micro-organisms, 
and so on, have been thus produced, while of 
less importance are the many new dyes syntheti- 
cally derived from coal-tar. Furthermore, the 
chemist is able to say that the vital products 
which he manufactures are strictly identical 
with those manufactured by the living body, 
and that such products, whether natural or 
artificial, are not only composed of the same 
elements as those found elsewhere, but that 
what we have previously described as the laws 
of chemistry are strictly observed. As we have 
said before, there are not two chemistries, 
but one chemistry, and any laws applicable to 
elements in the atmosphere are equally applic- 
able to those elements when they occur in the 
body of an animal or plant living in that atmo- 
sphere. Similarly, all the laws of compounds 
and of chemical union and disunion, the laws 
of valency, and so on, are as true in the one 
case as in the other. 

Plants are Consummate Chemists. 
Let us, then, abandon the term organic chemistry, 
find a new one, and proceed to discuss the sub- 
stances that come under it. Such would seem 
to be the natural proceeding, and in the 
ordinary textbook of chemistry it is followed ; 
but here we have a special aim. We desire 
nob to isolate one science from another, but 
to co-ordinate them all. And for this reason 
we must consider a fact which is apt to 
be forgotten, though it is strictly a fact of 
chemistry, and though the unravelling of it 
would mean the making of a new epoch not 
only in chemistry, but also in the science 
of life. 

Our argument here is practically confined to 
plants, and for this excellent reason that the 

2711 



CHEMISTRY 

animal body does not enter into competition 
with the chemist as regards synthesis. The 
animal body can effect synthesis only indirectly 
when it comes to be inhabited by the mind of 
man, and when that man becomes a synthetic 
chemist. The synthesis; which was and is the 
puzzle, and which plays such an essential part 
in the economy of living nature, is effected by 
the plants alone. It has lately been shown 
that the animal body possesses a very small 
power of synthesis in certain cases, but though 
this must be noted, it is of no practical import- 
ance. It is the plant that is the consummate 
chemist. Alcohol and starch and sugar, the 
albumens, the volatile oils, and a host more, 
are its products, and the question is this : 
Having produced a large number of these 
substances without the intervention of the 
plant, and being doubtless able to produce any 
number more ; being, further, able to produce 
a large number of substances which the plant 
cannot, or at any rate does not, produce, are 
we not entitled to dismiss the plant from our 
reckoning altogether ? 

Man's and Nature's Methods. But 
this would be the most unpardonable error. 
Whereas the chemist requires all sorts of 
powerful reagents, the production of high 
temperature, long periods of time in some 
cases, and so on, the plant is totally independent 
of such conditions. What the chemist produces 
by the electric arc and the sweat of his brow 
the plant produces in silence, without effort, 
at low temperatures, and at no obvious cost. 
We have scarcely begun to attack the true 
organic chemistry, and we can commit no 
greater folly than to suppose that our synthetic 
methods are identical with Nature's, or that 
because ours are known, hers are unimportant. 
Let us hear Professor Meldola : 

" Those who consider that the triumphs of 
chemical synthesis have finally disposed of 
vitalism in any form will do well to bear in 
mind that until the chemist has shown that his 
synthetical methods are identical with Nature's 
methods there is just as much scope for en- 
deavouring to penetrate the chemical vital 
mysteries as there was in the days when it 
was believed that every organic compound 
required an animal or a plant for its production. 
If this be lost sight of amidst the overwhelming 
mass of material accumulated by the great 
army of workers in the field of carbon chemistry, 
if we have produced thousands of compounds 
which do not and probably never will be found 
to exist in living organisms, if we have gone 
so far bsyond Nature as to make it appear 
unimportant whether an organic compound 
is producible by vital chemistry or not, we are 
running the risk of blockading whole regions of 
undiscovered modes of chemical action bv 
falling into the belief that known laboratory 

Methods r 



equivalents of unknown vital 



It is essential, as Professor Meldola points out 
urn back and ask ourselves how much light 
3 synthetic chemistry of chemists has thrown 
upon the synthetic chemistry of plants. 
2712 



Synthetic and Vital Chemistry. 

No synthetic processes which produce or in- 
volve flame or temperatures anywhere above, 
say, 103 R, have any particular bear- 
ing upon the real question. Says Professor 
Meldola: "The fundamental synthesis par 
excellence the photosynthesis (synthesis by 
means of light), which plants are enabled to 
accomplish, and in the course of which carbon 
dioxide is absorbed by an organic compound 
and the product or products decomposed with 
the liberation of oxygen is as yet without 
a laboratory parallel." Furthermore, while 
a very large number perhaps the whole 
number of vital syntheses are accomplished 
by means of enzymes or ferments, and while 
the majority of the more familiar products can 
be also produced in the laboratory, " the analogy 
between the natural and the laboratory process 
disappears when it is considered that as yet 
no organic nitrogenous agent of the nature of 
an enzyme has ever been syntheti?ed." 

It has now been shown by many authors that 
ferments or enzymes are involved in the building- 
up of a large number of compounds. Even 
though the stages may be followed by the 
synthetic chemist, yet the " actual vital method " 
has not been employed by him. We are bound 
in honesty to recognise these facts, and not to 
claim more than we are entitled to. Synthetic 
chemistry is of the utmost value on the philo- 
sophic score. It has clearly demonstrated that 
substances produced by the living body may be 
produced without its aid, thereafter exhibiting 
identical properties in every respect. But it 
has neither unravelled nor has it in any measure 
rivalled the synthetic processes as they occur 
in the living organism. 

The Chemistry of Life. There remains 
a problem of the utmost importance, as the wisest 
of chemists themselves see. Only a few decades 
ago even a Liebig was content to say that the 
chemical processes of living matter demanded 
a vital force for their interpretation. The 
very last representative of this school of thought, 
Dr. Lionel Beale, F.R.S., has passed away a 
week before these words are written ; and we 
must go a stage further. 

But what is implied? Evidently this is, 
implied. It is all very well for the chemist to 
deny the existence of vital force, and he is doubt- 
less right. It is all very well for him to compete 
with the living organism. But is it not plain that 
if his processes are not the same as its processes, 
and if its processes are purely chemical or 
chemico -physical, and not peculiarly vital there 
is a great kingdom of chemistry, not even the 
threshold of which has he yet reached ? Of course, 
this is so ; synthetic chemistry has done nothing, 
or almost nothing, to illustrate the chemistry of 
living matter. It has merely abolished the old 
explanation of a vital force, which, of course, 
was no explanation, but merely a case of darken- 
ing counsel by words without knowledge, 
obscurum per obscurius the obscure by the more 
obscure. Thus there remains a new science or 
a newly-recognised science, the necessity for 
which arises the moment we abolish the concep- 






tion of a vital force. This science is the chemistry 
of life, or, as it is commonly called, biochemistry. 
This, of course, is the true organic chemistry ; 
that is to say, if the old term is to be retained 
at all it should be used not to cover a mere 
description of the properties of dead starch, on 
the ground that the starch was produced by a 
plant, but should be employed to describe the 
chemistry of organisms. 

The Unknown Kingdom of Chemis= 
try. Our making of definitions has now resulted, 
it is to be hoped, in a clearing of the -ground. 
Henceforward we shall associate the terms 
inorganic and organic chemistry with a definite 
theory which is known as vitalism, and which 
asserted that so-called vital products are the 
products of life and of that alone. We shall recog- 
nise that these terms ceased to have any valid 
meaning from the year 1828 onwards. We shall 
further recognise that, if they are to be retained 
at all, there is abundant scope for their employ- 
ment. They are so short and convenient that the 
present writer would be glad to see them re- 
instated inorganic chemistry meaning all such 
chemical processes as are not peculiar to the 
chemistry of organisms or organic chemistry. 
Lastly, we realise that biochemistry, or what we 
should be pleased to call organic chemistry, is 
as yet almost an unknown land. It has been 
claimed for science, and the unscientific concep- 
tion of a vital force has been dismissed from it, 
but it has not yet been explored, and the would-be 
explorer is almost without a guide. But it is, 
of course, incomparably the richest, the most 
wonderful, and the most important of all the 
territories to which chemistry asserts her right. 
If space avail, we may possibly return to this 
subject. 

The Carbon Compounds. As was men- 
tioned in an early section of this course, we now 
employ the somewhat clumsy phrase " the 
chemistry of the carbon compounds " to do the 
work which was formerly done by the term 
organic chemistry. The substances with which 
we shall have to deal are compounds of carbon. 
Carbon seems to be the keystone of their archi- 
tecture, and it is from the study of carbon that 
we are best enabled to attack them. This fact 
is, in itself, of the utmost significance, for carbon 
is an abundant and widely-spread ingredient of 
inorganic nature. It is true that a very large 
part of the carbon upon the earth once formed 
part of living bodies. The reader already knows 
that coal represents the carbonaceous part of the 
bodies of certain kinds of giant ferns which once 
flourished upon the surface of the earth. But the 
doctrine that carbon has always been associated 
with life, or that it is actually a product of some 
primeval life, or that it is somehow specially 
inhabited by the vital principle, must accommo- 
date itself to the fact that the presence of carbon 
has been abundantly demonstrated in the stars. 
The continuity between the organic and the 
inorganic is thus demonstrated by the facts of 
this one element. 

Marsh Gas. Furthermore, it would be idle 
to imagine that all the compounds of carbon 



CHEMISTRY 

belong to the realm of what was called organic 
chemistry, or, in other words, are specially 
associated with life. On the contrary, on page 
1158, we had to discuss the monoxide of 
carbon, which has the formula CO, and the 
dioxide of carbon CO... No one thinks of 
these as coming under" the head of organic 
chemistry. The latter is produced by living 
bodies, but is also produced and has 
identical properties when so produced by the 
oxidation of inorganic carbon. There is, therefore, 
absolute and perfect continuity between the two 
realms of chemistry, as they used to be con- 
ceived. This being granted, we may now proceed 
to the study of a substance which furnishes the 
key to the structure of a very large number of 
other substances of greater complexity, and 
which, though it might quite well have been 
treated when we were discussing the other 
inorganic compounds of carbon, was purposely 
left over so that it might furnish the basis of 
the discussion which is to follow. This body 
is the simplest known compound of the two 
familiar elements carbon and hydrogen, and is 
commonly known as marsh gas, its technical 
chemical name being methane. 

The Hydrocarbons. The term hydro- 
carbon is used to describe the carbides of hydro- 
gen. Let us once and for all distinguish between 
two terms which resemble one another hydro- 
carbons and carbohydrates. A carbohydrate is a 
substance which contains, as its name suggests, 
carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen, the two latter 
occurring in the proportions in which they are 
found in water. The two names resemble one 
another, but have totally different meanings. The 
hydrocarbons are far more important, since their 
existence and structure are fundamental in a 
study of this part of our subject. The carbo- 
hydrates have their own importance, as we shall 
afterwards see, but it is rather practical than 
theoretical. 

The derivatives of the hydrocarbons are 
endless and, to quote Sir William Ramsay: 
" May contain oxygen, nitrogen, sulphur, chlorine, 
bromine, iodine, and many other elements." Let 
us now return to certain lessons taught us by 
the typical hydrocarbon. 

Lessons from Marsh Gas. Marsh gas or 
methane has the formula CH 4 , as we saw on 
page 1600. This is itself of great significance. 
Says Sir William Ramsay: "The fundamental 
fact on which the chemistry of the carbon com- 
pounds rests is, that in them carbon always 
functions as a tetrad." This means, of course, that 
the carbon is always " four-handed." We are 
now past the stage at which it was necessary to 
accept this fact of valency simply as an inex- 
plicable fact. The new theory of matter, as the 
reader is already aware, has begun to make it 
intelligible. 

In considering the second lesson of marsh gas 
we may remind the reader of a previous para- 
graph, in which it was pointed out that when 
this body is exposed to the action of chlorine, 
atoms of the latter gas successively replace atoms 
of hydrogen, hydrochloric acid being meanwhile 
formed. We thus get a sequence of bodies, 

2713 



CHEMISTRY 

CHoCl 

constitution is " 
H 

H-C-H 

! 

H 

These so-called graphic 
of the utmost 



CH,, CH,C1, CHoCl 3 , CHC1,, CC1 4 . Their 
constitution is thus indicated by graphic formulae : 
H Cl 

I I 

H-C-H etc. to C1-C-C1 

Cl Cl 

formulae are a device 

^ _ value. They begin to indicate 

the structure of the molecule, and too much im-- 
portance cannot be attached to this conception 
in the pages which are to follow. 

" Solid=chemistry." The graphic for- 
mulas represented above have, however, an im- 
portant defect as symbols. The reader will 
remember that when we were discussing the new 
theory of matter we described the now famous 
behaviour of Mayer's needles, but we had to point 
out that the needles symbolising the electrons of 
the atom lie all in one plane upon the surface of 
the water, and thus represent the atom as a flat 
or two-dimensional object. But, of course, there 
is every reason to believe that the atom is a solid 
or three-dimensional object, and we should like, 
if possible, to have not a flat but a stereoscopic 
representation of it, showing the relations of its 
parts in perspective, as one sees in ordinary 
vision with two eyes or through a stereoscope. 

Now, precisely the same defect attaches to the 
graphic formula of marsh gas as represented 
above. It suggests that the molecule is a flat 
object, lying all in one plane. But it would be 
a great advance to have some means of repre- 
senting the molecule in perspective and con- 
ceiving of it also as not a two-dimensional, but 
a three-dimensional object. The introduction 
of this conception has constituted an epoch in 
chemistry, and the particular branch of the 
subject which conceives of molecules and studies 
them as not flat, but solid objects, is now known 
as stereo-chemistry, the meaning of which we can 
readily remember by recalling the stereoscope 
(from Greek " stereos," solid). This great advance 
we largely owe to the famous Dutch chemist 
Van't Hoff, now professor of chemistry at Berlin. 

Substitution. The graphic formulae above 
figured illustrate also one of the most im- 
portant and fruitful ideas in the chemistry of 
the carbon compounds and that is the idea of 
substitution. When, for instance, we com- 
pare marsh gas with chloroform we do not 
simply compare the two empirical formulae 
this being the name applied to the ordinary 
formulae but we compare the two graphic 
formulae ; and we say that chlorine atoms have 
been substituted for hydrogen atoms. This 
theory of substitution we owe to the Frenchman 
Dumas, friend and rival of Liebig. Liebig -at 
first opposed Dumas' ideas on substitution, but 
at last he became convinced says Shenstone in 
his book on Liebig " that the character of a 
chemical substance does not depend so much as 
he had supposed on the nature of its constituent 
atoms, and depends very largely also on the 
manner in which these atoms are arranged. 
Some years afterwards, at a dinner given by the 



French chemists to chemical visitors- to the 
Exhibition of 1867, Liebig made his defeat on this 
occasion the source of a happy retort to Dumas, 
who had asked him why of late years he had 
devoted himself exclusively to agricultural 
chemistry. 'I have withdrawn from organic 
chemistry,' said Liebig, ' for with the theory of 
substitution as a foundation, the edifice of 
chemical science may be built up by workmen ; 
masters are no longer needed.' " 

A Small Complexity. It introduces but 
a small complexity into graphic formulae to 
recognise that a certain amount of lack of sym- 
metry may often be met. Indeed, the Dutch 
chemist whom we have already named has shown 
that the utmost theoretical importance attaches 
to the symmetry, or lack of symmetry, of such 
molecules. Sometimes a single atom having two 
hands is introduced, and in such a case the 
molecule becomes somewhat asymmetrical ; or, 
to take the instance of marsh gas again, the four 
hydrogen atoms may be replaced by two oxygen 
atoms, giving us a graphic formula like this 
O = C = 0, which of course represents the 
familiar substance carbon dioxide, and is again 
symmetrical. 

Or we may write the graphic formula of the 
body CH.,C1 2 and substitute an atom of oxygen 
for the two hydrogen atoms that remain. We 
thus obtain the body carbonyl chloride, the 
graphic formula of which is : 

. C/l 



O = 



Cl 



Carbon Linked with Carbon. Marsh 
gas does not teach us one of the most remarkable 
properties of carbon, which goes very far to 
account for the extraordinary number and com- 
plexity of its compounds. This property, other 
instances of which are very rare, is the power 
which one carbon atom has of uniting directly 
with another carbon atom. This we shall come 
to study when we consider the higher members 
of the series to which methane belongs, and 
benzene and its derivatives. 

The Properties of Marsh Gas. As 
we might expect, marsh gas is often produced 
in marshy ground. It is also very commonly 
produced in coal mines, thus in both cases 
having an organic history. It is known to the 
miner as fire damp, for when mixed with air it 
forms an easily and extremely explosive 
mixture. It is a colourless, odourless gas, 
insoluble in water. The products of its com- 
bustion are, of course, carbonic acid and water, 
and it is hardly necessary to say that it has been 
liquefied and solidified. 

Preparation of Marsh Gas. It is im- 
possible for the chemist to prepare marsh gas 
by getting carbon and hydrogen to unite directly, 
except when both elements are in the nascent 
state. The easiest mode of its preparation is by 
the action of caustic soda on the acetate of 
sodium at a considerable temperature. The 
following is the equation : 

CH 3 C0 2 Na + NaOH = CH 4 + Na 2 C0 3 , 
bo 



sodium car 
products. 



nate and marsh gas being the 



Continued 



2714 



ASIA, AND RUSSIA IN ASIA 

Bursting of the Monsoon. Flora, Fauna, Political Divisions, Races and Religions 
of Asia. Trans-Siberian Railway. Russia on the Pacific. Caucasia and its Oil 



Group 13 

GEOGRAPHY 
19 

Continued from 



By Dr. A. J. HERBERTSON and F. D. HERBERTSON, B.A. 



The Bursting of the Monsoon. 

Reclus, the great French geographer, has finely 
described the breaking of the monsoon. " The 
monsoon is one of the most majestic of terres- 
trial phenomena. The spectacle presented at 
its first approach may easily be contemplated 
from any headland of the Western Ghats, which 
commands at once a view of the sea, the coast, 
and the mountain gorges. The first storm- 
clouds, forerunners of the tempest, usually 
gather between the 6th and the 18th of June. 
On one side of the horizon the coppery vapours 
are piled up like towers, or, to use the local 
expression, massed like elephants going into 
battle. As they move slowly towards the land, 
one half of the firmament becomes densely over- 
cast, while not a speck sullies the deep azure in 
the opposite direction. On the one hand, 
mountains and valleys are wrapt in darkness ; 
on the other, the outline of the seaboard stands 
out with intense sharpness. The surface of the 
sea and river assumes the metallic hue of steel, 
and the whole land, with its scattered towns, 
glitters with a weird glare. As the clouds strike 
the crags of the Western Ghats the thunder 
begins to rumble, the whirlwind bursts over 
the land, the lightnings flash incessantly, 
the peals grow more frequent and prolonged, 
and rain is discharged in torrents. Then 
the black clouds are suddenly rent asunder, 
the light of day gradually returns, and all 
Nature is again bathed in the rays of the 
setting sun." 

Heavy downpours occur almost daily while 
the monsoon lasts, filling the dry river channels, 
and supplying abundant water for irrigation. 
The failure of the monsoon means famine and 
the loss of millions of lives. 

Natural Vegetation Zones. These 
are now familiar. In the north is the tundra, 
enow-covered and lifeless for more than half the 
year, but with a brief beauty of flower and berry 
in summer, when the wandering tribes find abun- 
dant pasture for their reindeer, and the flooded 
rivers swarm with fish. Vast -forests, penetrated 
only by the rivers and the thin ribbon of the 
Siberian railway, stretch between the tundra 
and the steppes of Central Asia, which pass into 
deserts in the rainless regions already spoken of. 
All these we have seen more or less developed in 
Europe. What is new is the rich tropical 
vegetation of the monsoon lands, which reaches 
its most luxuriant development in the magnifi- 
cent forests of the Malay archipelago. Stanley's 
graphic account of similar forests in Central 
Africa has already been quoted, and the forests 
of Malaysia are, if possible, still more luxuriantly 
beautiful. 



. Animals. It is probable that most of our 
domesticated animals came originally from the 
steppes of Asia, which are still the home of 
immense "flocks and herds, often belonging to 
wandering tribes which follow them from pasture 
to pasture. The camel is used in the desert 
lands adjoining the steppes. In the mountains 
of Central Asia are many wild animals, including 
the great wild sheep ; the yak an ox is wild in 
the high pastures of Tibet, and is used as a beast 
of burden over the higher passes, some of which 
are not far short of 20,000 ft. South of the 
mountain barrier which crosses Asia new animals 
are found. The buffalo is the draught animal 
in India and China, and in the former country 
and Indo-China the elephant is used for heavier 
work and for show occasions. Snakes and tigers 
haunt the jungle, the latter animal being found 
as far north as Korea. The forests of northern 
Asia are the home of many fur-bearing animals, 
and the reindeer makes life of a sort possible in 
parts of the tundra. 

Political Divisions. The largest Asiatic 
Power is Russia, whose dominions 6,394,000 
square miles stretch from the frontier of Europe 
to the Pacific Ocean. Its southern boundary 
runs east from the southern end of the 
Caspian Sea to the Pamir plateau, follows the 
Tian Shan and other mountains bounding the 
Mongolian plateau, coincides with the Amur as 
far as the Usuri, and then runs south along the 
frontier of Manchuria to the Korean frontier. 
Conterminous with Russia from the Pamir 
plateau eastwards is China 4,278,000 square 
miles which extends south to the Himalayas 
and the frontiers of Burma and Indo-China, 
and west to the Pacific. The eastern part of 
the Indo-China peninsula is French (256,000 
square miles) and the remainder belongs 
to Siam (200,000 square miles) and Britain. 
The British dominions 2,000,000 square miles 
are India, its eastward extension, Burma, a 
strip of the south coast of Arabia, Ceylon, 
the extreme south of the Malay peninsula, 
Hong-Kong and Wei-hai-wei in China, and 
part of Borneo. Afghanistan 250,000 square 
m il es lies between north-west India and south- 
west Russia. Persia 650,000 square miles- 
stretches between the Caspian and the Persian 
Gulf, while Turkey controls Asia Minor, Armenia, 
Kurdistan, Syria, and most of maritime Arabia 
654,000 square miles. The centre and south- 
east of Arabia are independent. Off the coast 
of Eastern Asia is the island empire of Japan, 
including Formosa 160,000 square miles. The 
Philippines belong to the United States. The 
rest of the archipelago is Dutch, with the excep- 
tion of the British possessions mentioned. 

2715 



GEOGRAPHY 

Races and Religions. Branches of the 
white race inhabit the Turkish, Persian, and 
Afghan lands and much of India. The yellow 
or Mongolian race is predominant in the Russian 
Empire, China and Japan. In south-eastern 
Asia we find the brown or Malay race. 
Aboriginal peoples, not belonging to any of 
these, are found in many parts. The great 
religions of Asia are Mohammedanism, found 
from the Mediterranean to the Pacific ; Budd- 
hism, chiefly among the Mongolians ; Hinduism 
in India ; Confucianism in China ; Shintoism 
in Japan; and Christianity among the Europeans, 
who form the minority in Russia, India, and 
Indo-China, though they are the dominant race 
politically. In most parts of Asia two or more 
religions exist side by side, and no exact limits 
can be stated for any. 

RUSSIA IN ASIA 

The ever-growing Empire of Russia in Asia 
includes the vast region of Siberia, the mari- 
time district of Amuria, bordering the Pacific, 
Transcaucasia, or the highlands between the 
Caucasus and the Armenian Highlands, and 
Transcaspia or Russian Turkestan, the steppe 
lands east of the Caspian. 

Siberia. Siberia resembles Russia in con- 
figuration and climate. It is a vast plain, equal 
in area to the whole of Europe, rising in the south 




2716 



108. THE RACES AND RELIGIONS OF 



and east to the highlands of Central Asia. Th ese 
give rise to great rivers the Ob, with its 
tributaries, the Ishim and the Irtish ; the 
Yenisei and the Lena, which flow north across 
Siberia to the Arctic Ocean. They flow through 
highland scenery in their upper courses, emerge 
into the steppes at their northern base, cross the 
taiga, or primaeval forest, and then creep slug- 
gishly across the tundra to the sea, which they 
enter by great marshy estuaries. All are ice- 
bound for months in winter, and great floods 
occur when the frost breaks up in spring. Navi- 
gation is important only during the short 
summer, and settlement along the rivers is 
proceeding somewhat slowly. 

The climate of Siberia is everywhere extreme, 
especially in the east, where the northern limit 
of cereals is nearly 10 further south than in 
Western Siberia. The summers are hot, especi- 
ally in the east. In Eastern Siberia barley can 
be cut two months after sowing. 

A Country of Vast Natural Re= 
sources. The natural resources of Siberia, 
though as yet little developed, are very great. 
The rich black earth of Russia is continued into 
the steppes of Siberia, which are destined to 
become one of the great wheat lands of the 
world. Russian authorities claim that nearly all 
the land south of 60 N. will be found suitable 
for cultivation, when the forests are cleared and 
the marshes are drained. Wheat is grown on the 
richer, and other cereals on 
poorer soils. Stockkeeping 
and dairy farming are ex- 
tremely important both in 
the steppes and in the rich 
meadows. In the. forest 
clearings meat and butter 
of excellent quality are im- 
portant exports. At present 
much of the richest land ia 
too far from markets to be 
profitably used, but with 
better means of transport 
the prosperity of Siberia 
will increase rapidly. North 
of the agricultural zone are 
the forests, rich in fur- 
bearing animals, and 
possessing in their timber 
a source of permanent 
wealth. Minerals, includ- 
ing gold, are abundant in 
the highlands, but coal 
seems to be scarce, and 
wood is the chief fuel 
even on the railways. 
Population is still scanty. 
Towns are few, though 
new ones are springing 
up at central points of 
communication with a 
rapidity equalled only in 
the western United States. 
All are distinguished by 
a combination of show 
and squalor, fine hotels 
and cafes lighted with 



ASIA 



GEOGRAPHY 




electric 

light opening 

on to unpaved 

streets resembling 

muddy lanes. Most of 

them lie on or near the Great ; 

Siberian Railway, the first sod of which 

was cut by the present Tsar in 1891. 

The Siberian Railway. A few miles 
beyond Zlatoust, in the Urals, with small- 
arms factories, the train enters Asia, the spot 
boing marked by a finger-post, pointing west 
to Europe and east to Asia. Chelyabinsk, 
the first important station, which has rapidly 
grown from a small posting station into a large 
town, is the junction of a line to Ekaterin- 
burg, which joins the line to Perm, for Northern 
Russia. For nearly a thousand miles the line 
crosses an almost treeless plain, dotted with 
occasional birch clumps, and chiefly occupied 
in cattle-rearing. The stations are some 20 or 
30 miles apart, and generally some distance from 
the town or village from which they take their 
name. Towards the end of the second day the 
traveller begins to notice the Kirghiz inhabitants 
of the steppe, either riding after their flocks and 
herds, or even taking their seats in the train. 
They are dressed in long sheepskin coats, with 
high, red leather boots and fur-trimmed caps, 
and their bowed legs tell of a life spent in the 
saddle. The towns of Kurgan on the Tobol, 
Petropavlovsk on the Ishim, and others are seen 
in the distance, and at last the train reaches 
Omsk, on the Irtish, the capital of the steppes. 
Omsk is in a sense the boundary between east 
and west. 

East of Omsk. From places east of Omsk, 
wheat, barley, rye, oats, meat, skins, and even 
dairy produce trend eastwards, to supply the 
needs of newer settlements ; but from Omsk they 
begin to flow west, to St. Petersburg and Moscow, 
northward by the rivers to the Arctic ports, south- 
wards to Odessa, and by caravans to Central Asia. 
The Ob is crossed by a bridge half a mile long, some 
60 miles above Tomsk, a university town, which is 
reached by a branch line. Trees now become more 
numerous, and soon the train plunges into the 
forest, through which it runs for hundreds of 
miles to Krasnoiarsk, on the Yenisei, in the 
centre of a mining district. The land is now 
steadily rising to the highlands round Lake 
Baikal, 42 miles west of which, on the Angara, 
is Irkutsk, the largest city of Siberia, which is 
reached on the fourth day after leaving the Ob. 
It has fine buildings, excellent technical and 
other schools, and important gold-smelting 
works. Beyond Lake Baikal the line runs 
through varied scenery to Chita, the capital of 
Trans-Baikalia, near which a branch diverges to 



109. THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY 



the Amur Valley. The main line continues south- 
east into Manchuria, and reaches Harbin, in 
the centre of a district whose fertility amazes 
every traveller. " Masses and masses of millet 
extend mile after mile as far as the eye can see, 
occasional clumps of trees looking like little green 
dots in a bronze-brown sea, and the villages them- 
selves being half buried in the surrounding crops." 
From Harbin the traveller can go east to 
Vladivostok, or continue his journey south. For 
two days and nights he steams through crops 
such as are in all probability to be seen nowhere 
else in the world, passing Mukden, the capital, 
and reaching his journey's end on the shores of 
the Pacific, at the great military and naval base 
of Port Arthur, which is now held by the vic- 
torious Japanese. 

The Siberian Line in Winter. In 
winter all the traveller sees is leagues of snow 
on every hand, half burying the scattered 
villages. " Water for the stoves and the train 
has to be brought hot, lest it should freeze on 
the way, and men at the stations have to chop 
off long icicles from the train." This gives 
some idea of the difficulties Russia has to meet 
in opening up her Siberian provinces. On the 
other hand, the intense cold makes it possible 
in winter to transport meat and dairy produce 
for long distances without refrigerating cars, 
which are necessary in summer. Sledge travel 
is easy over the hard snow, and at Petropavlovsk 
the traveller just quoted saw the strange sight 
of sledges drawn by camels setting out for 
Tashkend in Turkostan. 

The southern steppes of Siberia on either side 
of Lake Balkash and in the basin of the Upper 
Irtish are much hampered by the dry and extreme 
climate. Sandstorms devastate the country 
in summer and blizzards in winter. The chief 
occupation is the rearing of livestock sheep, 
horses, cattle, camels, and goats. The largest 
town is Semipalatinsk, on the Irtish, com- 
municating by that river with Omsk, on the 
Great Siberian line. 

Russia on the Pacific. The Pacific slope 
of the continent is Russian from Kamchatka 
to the Korean frontier. The mountainous 

2717 



GEOGRAPHY 

peninsula of Kamchatka, with snow-peaks as 
high as the Swiss Alps, has a dozen active and 
many extinct volcanoes. The winters are long 
and cold, the summers short and not warm. 
A little agriculture is possible in the interior, 
but hunting fur animals and fishing are the 
chief occupations. The richest part of Pacific 
Russia is the basin of the Amur, which separates 
Russia from China. This river (2,700 miles) 
gives a route to the Pacific opposite the moun- 
tainous island of Sakhalin, now partly Japanese, 
while its right bank tributary, the Suiigari, 
has greatly aided Russian de- 
signs on Manchuria and a warm- 
water port, the latter frus- 
trated by the loss of Port 
Arthur. Blagovestchensk, on 
the main stream, the adminis- 
trative centre, has steamer 
communication with Str.tensk 
in Transbaikalia, Nikolaievsk, 
the port of the Amur, and Lake 
Khanka, a feeder of the Usuri, 
a right bank tributary. The 
Amur is closed by ice from 
November to April, as is also 
Vladivostok, Russia's magnifi- 
cent harbour and naval station 
in Southern Amuria. Agricul- 
ture in the rich valleys of the 
Zeya and Bareya, left bank tri- 
butaries, gold mining in the 
Stanovoi highlands, hunting in 
the great forests, and fishing 
in river and sea are the occu- 
pations of a scanty population 
living in small villages some 
20 miles apart. 

Caucasia. Caucasia occu- 
pies the isthmus between the 
Black and Caspian Seas, 
Batum and Poti being ports on 
the former, and Baku on the 
latter. North of the Caucasus, 
with Elbruz rising to 18,000ft., 
are the high steppes of the 
Terek basin, engaged in agri- 
culture and cattle breeding. 
South of the Caucasus is the 
rift, drained west to the Black 
Sea by the Rion and east to the 
Caspian by the Kur, with the 
capital, Tiflis, finely situated 110> RUSSIA ON 
in its middle gorge. Both are rich valleys, 
growing mulberry, vine, maize, and other fruits 
and cereals South of these valleys the land 
s to the Armenian plateau, which is separated 
from Persia by the deep valley of the Araxes The 
summers are everywhere hot, but severe winters 
are experienced in the highlands. The rainfall is 
heavy in the west and extreme south-west, but 
much of the east is arid. The cultivation of 
cereals, cotton, vine and tobacco are important 
with cattle rearing in the higher pasturesfbut the 
nchestassetisthe petroleum region aroundBaku. 

,r i * ^i i y ' Clvl1 war has temporarily 
dislocated the oil industry, but soon the f ollowW 
description will again be true. If there were 
2718 




no oil there would be no Baku. In addition to 
the Baku of lofty houses, good shops, and 
spacious streets, there is Black Town, where 
thousands of tons of crude oil are daily reduced 
to kerosine, benzine, lubricating oil, and residues 
for fuel. There are vast forests of derricks, 
under which are carried on those operations of 
boring and pumping which disgorge the wealth- 
bringing oil from the bowels of the earth. 
Balakhani, with its 2,000 derricks, packed as 
close as trees in a forest, is one of the 
weirdest sights I ever beheld." 

" I stood and watched the 
rich, dark green fluid, with its 
pink, glittering froth, being 
discharged by the great baler 
of one of the borings, an im- 
plement which raises upwards 
of 100 tons of oil a day. A 
spouter often blows the derrick 
to matchwood, but it throws up 
anything from 7,000 to 10,000 
tons of marketable oil, worth 
from 350,000 to 500,000, in 
24 hours." 

An Inflammable 
Region. The soil of this 
region is so logged with petro 
leum that inflammable gas is 
constantly escaping from the 
surface. It is literally possible 
to set the Caspian on fire in 
places, and, by poking a stick 
into the ground, to set free 
enough gas to light a flame 
several feet high. Baku oil 
goes all over Europe and Asia, 
and gives Russia a cheap fuel 
for the Caspian and Black Sea 
steamers and the railway on 
either side of the Caspian. 

Russian Turkestan. 
The Russian possessions east of 
the Caspian and south of Siberia 
consist of waterless deserts of 
sand round the Caspian and the 
Sea of Aral, passing into steppes 
as the land gradually rises 
towards the mountains of 
Central Asia. The region forms 
an immense basin of inland 
drainage. The great Amu Daria 
and Syr Daria flow to the Sea 
of Aral, while others flow to Lake Balkash and 
smaller lakes. Where irrigation from any river 
is possible, an oasis large or small can be 
made, in which cereals, fruits and cotton grow 
luxuriantly. Russia is devoting great attention 
to the cultivation of cotton in her Central Asian 
possessions. It is the staple product of Ferghana, 
the fertile region at the base of the Tian Shan, 
watered by the Upper Syr and its feeder, the 
Naryn. Here are situated the chief towns of 
Russian Turkestan, linked by the Transcaspian 
line. with each other and with Europe. 

The Transcaspian Railway. The 
traveller starts from Krasnovodsk, on the 
Caspian, a desert town which distils all its 



THE PACIFIC 






water from that brackish sea. For many hours 
the train runs across the desert between low 
hedges of sand-loving plants, planted to prevent 
the sand drifting deep over the rails. At long 
intervals it passes Askabad, near the Persian 
frontier, and Merv, created by the Murghab, 
which consequently runs dry before it reaches 
the Amu or Oxus, both oases in an all-surround- 
ing sea of sand. The Oxus is crossed by a bridge 
a mile long, and the train plunges across the 
desert to Bokhara, which owes its fertility to 
the innumerable canals into which the Zerafshan 
is diverted. The country gradually becomes 
less arid towards Samarkand, on the Zerafshan, 
once, like Bokhara, a world-famous centre of 
Mohammedan learning, and with some fragments 
of its former splendour. The line now enters 
the Ferghana region, watered by the Syr and its 
tributaries from the south, and passes Andijan, 
in the centre of the cotton country, Chernayeve, 
the junction for Tash- 
kend, the chief city of the 
Upper Syr, Khokand 
and Marjilan. From 
Tashkend a line runs 
a.cross the Khirgiz 
steppes to Orenburg, 
where it connects with 
the European network. 
A line is projected to 
the wheat districts of 
Siberia that Ferghana 
may obtain cheap food, 
and devote its rich soil 
exclusively to growing 
cotton for the Russian 
textile industries. 

Turkey in Asia. 

Asiatic Turkey lies west of a line drawn from 
the eastern end of the Black Sea to the Persian 
Gulf. Much of the surface consists of highlands 
with valleys which are fertile under irrigation, 
but lapse into desert where this is neglected. 
Of the famous cities of Greek and Scriptural 
history little remains but the name, and the 
whole region is in a backward and neglected 
condition. The great peninsula of Asia Minor, 
separating the Black Sea from the Levant end 
of the Mediterranean, is a plateau averaging 
3,000 ft. in height, but much higher in the 
south, where the Taurus Mountains rise to 
nearly 10,000 ft. The famous pass of the 
Cilician Gates leads down to the fertile plains 
of Adana, watered by the Jihun and Seihun, 
and growing much cotton. The port is Iskan- 
derun, in the angle between Asia Minor and 
Syria. On the plateau sheep and goats are 
kept, the wool and hair being made into carpets, 
and the skins into leather. In the valleys 




111. THE BAKU OIL REGION 



GEOGRAPHY 

wheat, vines, etc., are grown, and dried raisins 
and figs are important exports. The ports are 
Trebizond, Samsun and Sinope, on the Black 
Sea, and Smyrna on the Mediterranean. 

Turkish Armenia. Turkish Armenia 
lies east of Asia Minor. The capital is Erzerum, 
a centre of caravan trade, on a fertile plain 
watered by the Kara Su branch of the Euphrates, 
which rises in the Armenian Highlands. The 
elevation makes the winter severe on the pastoral 
highlands, while in the valleys, where cotton, 
tobacco, cereals and fruits are grown, the 
summers are intensely hot. 

Mesopotamia. The Euphrates, which, 
with its tributary the Tigris, drains the 
Armenian Highlands south to the Persian Gulf, 
has its upper courss in picturesque defiles 
through the highlands. It then enters the 
alluvial plains of Mesopotamia, once the garden 
of the world, and the seat of the famous power 
of Nineveh and Babylon. 
The whole of this region 
has lapsed into a bare 
waste, with indifferent 
pasturage, where a 
scanty population ekes 
out existence on lands 
which once fed millions. 
Bagdad, on the Tigris, 
once the centre of all 
commerce between the 
Mediterranean and the 
Persian Gulf, has still 
considerable trade. Ex- 
cellent dates are grown 
round the Persian Gulf 
and exported from 
Basra. A railway is 
projected across this region to the Persian Gulf. 
Syria and Palestine. West of the 
Euphrates lies the Syrian desert, continued 
south by that of Arabia. The Mediterranean 
littoral of Syria and Palestine receiving winter 
rains has been, and might again be, extremely 
fertile, producing all Mediterranean fruits and 
cereals. East of the Lebanon mountains are 
Aleppo, on the trade route from the Persian 
Gulf by the Euphrates towns to Iskanderun, and 
Damascus, the capital of Syria, and one of the 
oldest cities in the world, a green spot on the edge 
of the desert made fertile by the Abana. Haifa 
and Beirut, in Palestine, are ports on the Medi- 
terranean. Jerusalem, the capital of Palestine, 
west of the Jordan, which flows to the Dead 
Sea, is sacred to Christians for its religious 
associations. A railway follows the pilgrim 
route from north to south, with branches to 
Haifa and Beirut, on the Mediterranean. A 
railway also joins Jerusalem to the port of Jaffa. 



Continued 



2719 



Group 26 

SHOPKEEPING 
19 



Continued from 
page 2532 



CYCLOPAEDIA OF SHOPKEEPING 

FUR MERCHANTS. Prospects for the Practical Man. Beginning 
Business. Considerations of Fashion. Storing and Jobbing. Finance 

GENTLEMEN'S OUTFITTERS. Scope. The Shop and its Fittings. 
Range of Stock. Outfits for Travellers. Side Lines and Profits 



FUR MERCHANTS 

The retailing of fur garments is a branch of 
shopkeeping that must not be lightly under- 
taken. Furs being more or less a luxury, there 
is no scope for a general trade, and almost 
every draper of any pretensions has a so-called 
fur department. The price of furs of all kinds 
is increasing annually. Twenty years ago 
our mothers and our aunts had sable muffs 
or sable collars for which they paid perhaps 
two or three guineas apiece ; to-day the same 
article cannot be bought under ten, or even 
twenty guineas. 

Capital. It will be seen, therefore, that 
a considerable capital is required before em- 
barking in the business, and, as a matter of 
. fact, it is next to impossible for a man to start 
a fur store pure and simple unless he has at 
least 1,500 in hand, and a thoroughly practical 
experience in all branches of the fur business. 
Provided, however, he has these requirements 
and the necessary address and business acumen, 
he may confidently look for a very comfortable, 
not to say enviable, livelihood. For it must 
not be forgotten that although it may be called 
only an eight-months' trade in each year, 
during the intervening four months the stock, 
if carefully packed away, is not deteriorating, 
but is rather increasing in value, for the steady 
tendency of upward prices for furs shows no 
signs of weakening as the years go by. In the 
summer months there used in years past to be 
a trade done with American visitors to this 
country, and especially to the metropolis. 
But the raising of the American tariff on furs 
has killed this outlet for the dead season's 
stock, and the practical man, who is not only a 
fur seller but a furrier, employs himself in pre- 
paring skins, making up stoles, caps, muffs, 
and so forth in preparation for the next winter's 
trade. In the summer many furriers now sell 
however, feather stoles and feather boas. The 
ever-growing importance of motoring has ^iven 
m recent years a fillip to the fur industry 
Bearskin coats, caps, and gloves for men 

iissian pony coats lined with squirrel lock, 
and leather - lined musquash trimmed with 
iox for ladies, are nowadays quite numerous 
and staple articles in every price list. There are 
also motor muffs, fur foot-warmers, and rugs 
that were unknown a few years ago. 

Learning the Business. As has already 
>een stated, it is essential, in order that a thorough 
luccess may be made of an intricate business 
that the prospective fur merchant should be 
efficiently trained. This training is secured by 
apprenticeship to a working furrier. The Fur 

2720 



and Skin Trades Section of the London Chamber 
of Commerce, in conjunction with the Furriers' 
Association, has a scheme for securing for 
youths with an ambition towards furriery an 
adequate knowledge of * all branches of the 
trade. At a meeting of the Fur and Skin 
Trades Section of the London Chamber of Com- 
merce in 1903 a form of agreement between 
apprentices and employer was adopted which 
is now in use. It is an agreement in legal 
terms on the basis of the usual apprenticeship 
agreement, arranging for the amount of premium, 
the term of service (usually five years), the 
hours of service, and the payment (per week 
per year) during the period in which the 
employer would " teach him or cause him to 
be taught " the art of fur making, fur cleaning, 
fur dyeing, or what not. The Association 
endeavours to bring suitable employees and 
employers into touch, and looks after the 
interests of both impartially for the general 
benefit of the craft. 

The Practical Man. The advantage 
which the practical man has over the graduate 
from drapery, who knows only enough to dis- 
tinguish kinds and qualities of furs, and to be 
able to sell them, is all-important, for the 
chief part of the beginner's work at first 
will be to carry out repairs on furs that are 
brought to him, and to make up small garments 
to order. He should not only know furs, 
their peculiarities and their characteristics, 
but he should have a knowledge of dyeing 
processes, he should be able to clean furs, and 
he ought to be tailor enough to actually make 
coats, caps, and other necessary garments. 
To be ready to give a lady an estimate on the 
spot for the making of a sealskin jacket or a 
motor coat is in eight cases out of ten the differ- 
ence between getting an order and losing it. 

Beginning Business. A shop in a good 
neighbourhood is an essential. It should be care- 
fully decorated, and the rental would be 400 
or 500 probably a modest estimate for a 
London West End establishment or something 
less in the best shopping street of a big provincial 
city. The fittings should be well made but not 
elaborate, and in consonance with the expensive 
character of the stock. One or two solid wall 
cases with glass fronts and mirrored backs, a 
counter, and a series of large drawers (for storing 
necklets, muffs, and linings), a large full-length 
mirror, a carpeted floor, and a few brass stands 
with arms for displaying goods are requisite. 
A sum of 150 to 250 would be spent on fittings 
of that character plain, substantial, and good. 
Mahogany is probably the best wood to select for 



the fittings ; it will last well, look better, and 
be more in keeping with the character of the 
stock 'than lighter-coloured or more garish 
material. The best time of the year to start is 
August, preparatory for the season's trade, which 
commences in September or October. 

The Stock. The fur merchant who knows 
his business will always be careful not to over- 
stock. The wholesale houses are ever ready to 
send on approval a varied selection of any 
particular goods required to suit a customer; 
but a large stock of any one article or series of 
articles is not necessary. If a customer is not 
satisfied with any one of the lines the furrier may 
have to show, he or she may be satiated on the 
following day by a further selection which the 
furrier has meantime obtained from his whole- 
sale house. But it is obligatory that some 
permanent stock be kept, in order that a show 
may be made and customers attracted. The 
furrier would go round several wholesale houses, 
therefore, and buy about 500 worth for his open- 
ing stock. The articles of which he would have 
the greatest selection would be the easy- selling 
and less expensive lines in muffs, necklets, 
stoles, fur linings, fur trimmings, and rugs. 

Stoles and ties are more necessary than any- 
thing even than muffs so a fairly large 
selection of these should be kept. In muffs 
he would select one or two of each in bear, 
opossum, raccoon, natural raccoon, lynx, 
natural opossum, genet, Persian lamb, grey 

J squirrel, grey astrachan, otter, fox, seal, mus- 
quash, skunk, sable, fox, grey and natural 
moufflon, seal, bear, astrachan, mink, beaver, 
black Thibet, white Thibet, marten, grey 
squirrel, sable, chinchilla, ermine, and baum 
marten. These are for hand muffs ; he would 
require also a few large carriage muffs in opossum 
(shades), in seal musquash, beaver, astrachan 
(black and grey), ermine, skunk, chinchilla, 
black Thibet, white Thibet, sable skin, sable, 
and beaver. Bag, or flat-shaped muffs in seal 
musquash, seal, black Persian lamb, beaver, 
skunk, and mink are still very popular, the 
round shapes having gone out of fashion. A 
few children's muffs and ties, chiefly white, in a 
variety of furs might also be added. The fur 
linings for cloaks are usually in grey and white 
squirrel, in all grey squirrel, in kaluga, or in 
hamster. Fur trimmings (to sell by the yard) 
include black and brown rabbit, and bear, 
opossum, raccoon, fox (white, grey, etc.), white 
hare, natural raccoon, opossum, and lynx, beaver, 
chinchilla, ermine, grey squirrel, bear, skunk, 
natural and grey moufflons, white and black 
Thibet goat, Alaska fox, Celestial fox, black and 
grey astrachans, skunk, opossum, mink, seal 
musquash, natural musquash, otter, squirrel 
(dyed), stone marten, and sable. As the season 
advances, lighter trimmings, besides those men- 
tioned, comprise fitch, grebe, kolinski, lamb 
(white astrachan, krinmer, Persian), marmot, 
miniver, and nutria. He would also select an 
assortment of one dozen perambulator fur rugs 
(mounted on coloured cloth), in white or grey 
Himalayan goat, grey opossum, jackal, wolf, 
white Thibet, bear, and wolverine. A selection 



BHOPKEEPINQ 

of fur cuffs and gauntlets might also be made, 
and half a dozen cai-riage rugs. The last-named 
are usually in natural shades of Australian 
bear, opossum, Himalayan grey goat, jackal, 
wolf, raccoon, lynx, Japanese fox, wolverine, 
bear (black, brown, and grizzly), black Himalayan 
goat, grey fox, red fox, beaver, mink, and sable. 
It would be necessary also to have one or more 
sealskin jackets, and an assortment of musquash 
coats in different styles, with perhaps a sable- 
coloured coat in squirrel back, caracul, squirrel 
lock, or Persian lamb, and perhaps a cape or two 
in sable marmot or electric seal to give variation. 
Stoles of Arctic fox, sable-dyed marmot, chin- 
chilla, etc., and a good aru\ varied selection of 
ties in Hudson Bay sable, imitation silver-pointed 
fox, Alaska fox, Persian lamb, Persian paw, 
and caracul; mink, stone marten and baum 
marten are advisable if the money will permit. 
Then the different styles have to be studied ; 
there is the mink blouse, the caracul jacket 
trimmed with marten, the caracul sac coat 
trimmed with embroidered velvet ; all the vary- 
ing tastes and fashions have to be considered. 

The Dictates of Fashion. In the 
foregoing paragraph it must be distinctly borne 
in mind that an indication only is given of what 
may be required. It is impossible to state definitely 
what a man must buy, for the changes of fashion 
in furs are as erratic and unaccountable as the 
changes in the weather. This year there may 
be a run on chinchilla, next year on marmot, the 
season following on marten, and so on. Sables 
are about the only fur that may be considered 
permanently fashionable; but there is not 
only the fur, but the style of garment to be 
considered. Jackets of Empire style, loose 
sacs, boleros, and so forth, may each or all be 
the rage of the season. Last season there was a 
run on fur toques and fur hats of various shapes 
for ladies, and the practice of wearing stoles 
loosely thrown back over the shoulders necessi- 
tated a difference in shapes. White hare was 
in great demand (also dyed to imitate fox), 
likewise stone marten and baum marten. The 
shapes of stoles and ties and their colour vary 
annually. Squirrel also is most fashionable. 
The man of experience keeps his eyes wide 
open, then, on that mysterious female entity 
whoever she may be " who sets the fashion." 

Storage and Jobbing. An important part 
of the business is the storage of customers' own 
furs during the summer months. Where rich 
and delicate furs are in question, the responsi- 
bility of keeping them is invariably thrown on 
the furrier, and it pays him to encourage it. 
Many furriers have special facilities, such as 
storing chambers kept at the proper tempera- 
ture cool, but not too cold. Constant inspec- 
tion and care must be exercised during the 
storage period. The furs should be taken out 
periodically and beaten lightly with a cane 
beater to free from dust, while a keen watch 
should be kept on flying scraps of fur, indicative 
of the probable presence of moth eggs or larvae. 
To protect against moths, it is sometimes advis- 
able to use paper, wrapping each article separ- 
ately, and pasting down so that the casing is as 

2721 



SHOPKEEPING 

airtight as possible. The packages are then 
stored away in a cedar box, or a receptacle con- 
taining naphthalene or pepper. In the case of 
large articles, like coats or capes, it is better to 
hang each up separately. A coat should always 
be hung by its own wooden or metal hanger, 
and this is specially desirable in the case of a 
heavy fur garment, which is liable to lose its 
shape if suspended by a neck-loop. A calico or 
holland bag is used for a coat, made large enough 
to take the garment without folding, and with 
a draw-string at the mouth. Camphor should be 
used with caution, as it is said to possess bleach- 
ing properties, but insect powder, coal- tar 
derivatives, and cedar wood are often employed 
as moth preventives. Cold storage is the popular 
method of keeping furs at the present time, but 
the beginner may not be able to provide a cold 
storage chamber for some years, and would fall 
back on the other methods. The usual charge 
for storage is 1 per cent, per annum on the 
value of the fur ; but West End fur houses 
charge 1 per cent, per month, and get it with- 
out trouble. Besides guaranteeing that the furs 
are kept free from moths, it is usual also to insure 
them against fire during the period of storage. 
The repairing department is important to the 
beginner. He must be able to undertake altera- 
tions in furs, so that sealskin jackets are re- 
dyed, relined, and remade in any style. He 
should likewise be prepared to clean furs and dye 
them according to the prevailing fashion, besides 
being ready to dress and mount any skins that 
may be brought to him. With regard to fur 
trimmings it would perhaps be better for the 
practical man to buy skins and cut his trim- 
mings as they are required. At the present time 
they are not much used. 

Buying and Selling. It is not usually 
worth the fur merchant's while to buy his skins 
directly in the auction room, but he would keep 
an eye on the periodic sales, full particulars of 
which are given in another section that on 
DRESS where also will be found the comparative 
prices of skins. These prices are, however, for 
wholesale quantities, and few fur merchants 
would care to buy regularly in bales. Moreover, 
the furs have nearly all to be treated before being 
ready for making up into wearing apparel, and 
the cost is thus naturally enhanced before the 
goods leave the wholesaler. But a man of good 
character and reputation, with a capital of 
1,500, would have little difficulty in securing 
a good reference house and in getting a stock, 
proceeding, as he would, exactly on the lines de- 
scribed under Drapers. He could buy in August, 
and have the goods dated November, December, 
or even later, according to arrangement. It is 
always well, of course, to pay "prompt," if 
convenient, as he will thus secure at least 3| per 
cent, discount, and the difference between 3| per 
cent, and 2 per cent, for two or three months' 
longer credit is considerable on a large opening 
order. With regard to profit, it may fairly be 
3onsidered that an average profit of from 40 per 
cent, to 50 per cent, on the return must be looked 
tor At any rate, a gross profit of not less than 
M$ per cent, must be made in order to tide over 

2722 



the four slack months of the year. Stock should 
be turned over at least four times a year. When 
the business is fully established, the experienced I 
merchant will make the end of the season a suit- 
able time to go round and pick up the bargains 
that may be had, storing them for the summer , 
in anticipation of the rise likely to occur at the 
beginning of the new season. The trade in cheap 
furs, such as rabbit and imitation seals, is 
scarcely worth the candle, so far as the fur 
merchant pure and simple is concerned. That 
class of trade is fully covered by the draper, 
and the profits that accrue would not tend to 
serious consideration where a 500 rent to be 
paid out of furs alone is concerned. 

GENTLEMEN'S OUTFITTERS 

The business of a gentlemen's outfitter is a ! 
pleasant and profitable one for a man with 
method, taste, a popular manner, and the 
necessary capital. If such a man have served 
an apprenticeship to the business, and had 
experience as an assistant for a few years, 
success ought to follow as a matter of course ; 
but even if the would-be gentlemen's outfitter 
have no first-hand and intimate acquaintance 
with this special department, but be familiar 
with the general drapery trade only, he may be 
wise in embarking in it. The backbone of a 
gentlemen's outfitting business is a properly 
fitting shirt, and the retailer should shape his 
coarse accordingly. He should learn to measure 
for shirts and to cut out from measures. The 
necessary knowledge can be acquired without 
difficulty by devoting a good proportion of the 1 
spare time of six months. 

The most auspicious time for a start is the 
month of September, when the winter trade 
which is the most imporant in the year is 
beginning. The capital should not be less than 
250, but this will suffice. The shop taken should 
be double-fronted for choice, with plenty of 
window space. Display is important. The 
interior of the shop need not be large. A small 
shop well stocked is much better than a large 
one carrying only a thin stock, and as the rent 
of premises usually depends upon floor space, 
every square yard saved means lower rent and 
smaller expense. The site chosen should be 
near offices or works where men pass frequently. 
Men do not usually " go shopping " as women . 
do, preferring to make their purchases in the 
route of their promenade to and from work. The 
rent of a shop such as we have indicated will 
probably be about 150 in a city, or half to 
two-thirds of that sum in a large town. 

Front and Window. The exterior of 
the shop should be painted white or stone colour, 
and a good glass facia and stall boards should 
be fitted. If space permits, money should be 
spent on one or two small outside wall cases, 
which should always be neatly dressed with the 
latest novelties marked in plain figures. Such 
cases, if properly attended to, will be very 
remunerative. External fittings such as we have 
indicated will cost about 15. The window 
enclosure must be made dust-proof, and ought 
to be fitted with a large side mirror, so as to give 



the effect of space. A good variety of window 
fittings ought to be bought brass rods with 
movable brackets, shirt stands, telescopic 
stands, and a glass shelf, or more than one, along 
the front of the window. The sum of 15 upon 
the window interior should not be considered 
too much. 

The Shop Interior. The ceiling should 
be plain white, the walls neatly distempered, 
and the floor covered with plain linoleum. 
These details, with two or three good rugs and 
half a dozen bentwood chairs, will make a bill of 
about 10. A similar sum will purchase a 6 ft. or 
8 ft. counter, with glass case top, ends, and sides. 
For the rest, the wall shelving should be of plain 
deal, of height and depth to suit the stock boxes ; 
there should be a plain strong table to use for 
cutting out, and sundry rods and brackets where 
convenient for hanging goods on for display. It 
is well to have proper stock boxes of uniform 
colour. Two or three dozen wood or millboard 
boxes, covered with green union, will suffice. 
All these oddments will add another 10 to the 
expenditure. 

Shop Assistance. The expense of shop 
assistance will not be great at the start. An 
apprentice engaged for three years may be had 
for 5s., 7s. 6d., and 10s. per week during the 
respective years, and in provincial towns the 
wages are lower still. When an assistant sales- 
man has to be engaged, he will demand 2 per 
week in the city, if a good man, with probably 
commission on his sales. The usual commission 
is 1| per cent., and this will make an addition of 
15s. per week, on the average, to the assistant's 
wages 

Shirts. In describing the stock, we shall 
consider shirts first. Those of the best quality 
should be cut out on the premises and sent out to 
be made. But the greater part of the shirt 
stock will be factors-made and bought ready for 
wear. Cheaper quotations can usually be had 
by ordering the stock of shirts out of season 
have winter requirements made in summer, and 
vice versa as the makers are pleased to fill in 
slack times. 

White shirts with longcloth body and starched 
cuffs and fronts must be stocked to retail at 2s. 6d., 
3s. 6d., and 4s. 6d. each, or at slightly lower 
prices in half-dozen lots. A business shirt with 
a short front, narrow wristbands and detachable 
cuffs, should be kept at about 3s. 9d. Dress 
shirts for evening wear should have ample wide 
fronts to suit dress waistcoats, and there is a 
style with expanding fronts, which is very good. 
These, of course, should have only one stud hole, 
in front. Particular attention must be paid to the 
cut of shirt sleeves so that the cuffs may never 
cause discomfort when writing. A tape loop at 
the back of the neck to take the necktie, and a 

ib at the bottom of the front, are details which, 

a shirt, often commend its acceptance. The 
^fitting of white shirts is profitable ; collar- 
ids, cuffs, and fronts for refitting should be 
sked. 

The pattern of shirt which opens behind is 
obsolete, but a few of them may be 
in the stock. In cultivating the trade 



8HOPKEEPING 

in shirts made to measure, it is exceedingly 
useful to have, for the use of customers, special 
forms with diagrams for self-measurement. 

A small selection of starched front shirts of 
French and Manchester prints and cambrics 
may be necessary. Tunic shirts with soft 
fronts are now much worn, and are made in 
zephyrs, Ceylon flannels, pure wool flannels, 
Oxfords, unshrinkables, viyellas, and silk and 
wool. Then there are shirtings and tropical 
flannels, tennis, rowing, cricketing, and golfing 
shirts, with both attached and loose collars, all 
or most of which must be represented in the 
stock. 

Men's shirts should be kept in sizes from 14 
inches, rising by half inches to 16J. Sizes 15 
and 15J are the heaviest sellers, and should 
therefore be bought in greater quantity. Boys' 
sizes are from 12 to 14 inches. 

All shirt measures ought to be carefully kept 
for reference. A good deal of business may be 
done by mail, especially when customers go to 
reside abroad, if it be known that this is tho 
practice. 

The stock of shirts should absorb about 35 
of the capital with which we assumed our 
outfitter to possess ; about 10 should be spent 
on longcloth, linen, and interlining, and about 
5 on coloured Oxford shirtings and prints. 
These last ought to be in white grounds with 
clear stripes and clean distinct patterns. , The 
cuttings from the making of shirts may be 
sold, one of the minor economies which may bo 
practised in the business. 

Collars, Fronts, and Cuffs. About 
15 will suffice for a representative stock of 
those articles. Care must be taken in the shape 
of collars. Fashion changes and must be 
studied. As we write, the " Golf Collar," in 
its various depths, is the vogue. Stand-up 
collars and a few old favourites must not be 
entirely omitted, nor must Eton collars for 
boys. 

In making collars to order they should be 
in. larger than the neckband of shirt, but in 
stock collars the size in. larger is near enough. 

NecKwear. About 15 may be spent 
on gentlemen's neckwear, and be distributed 
over Ascot, and broad-end ties, for sailor's 
knots, bows and " puffs " to sell at 6d., Is., 
Is. 6d., and Is. lid., tubular ties for summer 
wear, made-up bows and fill-up scarves, dress 
ties and bows. Judgment must be exercised in 
purchasing this stock. In both colour and 
shape of neckties the public are particular, and 
to become loaded with stock that does not 
meet popular approval is a serious business. 
There is moderate scope for enterprise in pushing 
ties and scarves made to order. 

Under the same class may be included 
mufflers in cashmere, in silk and wool, and in 
all silk. 

Handkerchiefs. This department may 
be stocked adequately by an expenditure of 
a 10 note. It will embrace coloured cotton 
handkerchiefs, and all - white linen handker- 
chiefs with woven borders in three-quarter and 
seven-eighths sizes, cambric handkerchiefs with 

2723 



SHOPKEEPING 

coloured borders and spots in three-quarter 
size, and silk handkerchiefs white, crimson, 
and mixed colours to sell at 2s. 6d. and 3s. 6d. 
each. Years ago when the habit of snuffing 
was not considered bad form, it was an ordinary 
thing to sell yard-square thick twill-silk hand- 
kerchiefs at 9s. 6d. each. They were often sold 
in pieces seven handkerchiefs in a piece 
and one customer might buy two pieces. But 
these days have fled. 

Hosiery and Gloves. These classes of 
outfitters' goods will demand an expenditure 
of 25. They will include cycling, rowing, and 
athletic hose, jerseys and sweaters, in addition 
to ordinary workaday hose and gloves. 
Detailed particulars of these departments are 
given in the article " Glovers and Hosiers " in 
this course. 

Sundries. One of the principal articles 
in the group we describe as " sundries " is 
braces. The shilling article is the favourite 
one, and a good, strong, serviceable brace 
must be sold at Is. a pair. The French narrow- 
web brace with elastic ends should be kept. 
Also strong English-made articles to sell at 
Is. 6d. and 2s. 6d., also a few pairs of buckskin 
braces, with a few body belts and leather belts, 
will require about 5 expenditure. 

Then nightshirts, pyjamas, fancy waistcoats, 
dressing-gowns, and smoking-jackets constitute 
a small department in which the individual 
articles are more expensive and will leave nothing 
out of 20 if a representative selection is to be 
shown. 

Studs and sleeve links are remunerative 
articles, and take up little room. The stock 
should be shown in the counter case. The sum 
of about 5 will purchase a good selection. 
The more expensive varieties may usually be 
had on sale or return. 

Outfits for Foreign Travellers. Some 
districts are favourably situated for pushing 
trade in outfits for hot and cold climates. 
When the shop of the gentlemen's outfitter is 
so situated its proprietor should not fail to take 
advantage of his opportunities. This depart- 
ment should be encouraged by the publication of 
a printed list showing details of a wide range of 
goods suitable for foreign countries with climates 
different from our own. That everything 
shown in the list is not kept in stock matters 
little. Special articles can always be got with- 
out delay, and the man about to go abroad 
does not require his outfit at five minutes' 
notice. He prefers to give his whole order at 
one place. The usual stock to appeal to this 
sort of traveller is as follows : 
Day shirts tunic, with loose collars. 

woollen, with collars attached 
Collars gloves, ties, and scarves. Handkerchiefs 
undervests and pants, and "united under- 
garments." 

Socks and stockings, for shooting cycling etc 
Pyjamas and nightshirts. 



Knitted waistcoats and under waistcoats, for 

wearing under tunics. 
Cuffs and studs. 

Colic belts, body belts, leather belts, money belts. 
Braces, gaiters, putties. 
Sleeping bags, woollen sheets, camelhair blankets, 

sweaters. 

Hair, hat and clothes brushes, combs, razors. 
Soft felt hats, knitted travelling and sleeping caps. 
Flannel suits, overcoats, rugs. 
Lounge jackets, Cardigan jackets. 
" Housifs " containing needles, pins, buttons, 

thread, scissors, and a thimble. 
Bags and trunks [see special article]. 

Sales and Side Lines. It is always 
well to have a " sale " Between seasons, as the 
practice clears off odds and ends that tend to 
accumulate. Job goods can always be had 
from manufacturers and sold at low prices, but 
still at fair profits. 

There are many side lines which can be asso- 
ciated with the business of a gentlemen's 
outfitter. Such things as trousers stretchers, 
umbrellas and walking sticks, and leather goods 
always go well with the class of customers to 
whom the outfitter appeals. The Christmas 
trade in presents offers opportunties which should 
not be neglected. A haircutting and shaving 
department is usually remunerative apart from 
the direct profits, especially if to reach the 
hairdressing saloon customers have to walk 
through the outfitting shop. 

Profits. The profits on the selling of 
gentlemen's outfitting goods should be 25 per 
cent, of retail prices, which equals 33| per cent, 
of cost prices. Naturally, articles of everyday 
sale are often sold more cheaply than other 
articles which move more slowly, but this is 
balanced by the larger profits in some depart- 
ments. 

In London arrangements can usually be made 
with one of the large carrier companies to deliver 
parcels in London and its suburbs at a uniform 
charge of 3d. each. 

At the initiation of the venture the new 
starter may be a little pressed for money. The 
terms of accommodation that he may obtain 
will depend upon himself. If he be known to 
the manufacturers and wholesale merchants 
as a good salesman and to have the qualities 
that go to make success, he will be generously 
treated. The usual terms of wholesale trading 
are monthly accounts with 2| per cent, discount. 
Bills may have to be accepted if, as is probable, 
it be found that more capital than was antici- 
pated is being locked up in stock, but with 
judicious economy the man should find after 
three years' trading that he is free from accu- 
mulated obligation and can meet all his bills 
promptly on date. 

He can thereafter take advantage of any 
special discounts offering for prompt payments 
and begin to keep his eyes open for cash bar- 
gains which are beyond the reach of the trader 
without available ready cash. 



Continued 



2724 



THE VEHICLE DRAWING OFFICE 

Dimensions, Draught, and Suspension. Full-size and Scale Drawings. 
The Cant Board. How the Different Trades Utilise Drawing 



Group 29 

TRANSIT 
5 



continued from 
page '2559 



By H. J. BUTLER 



'"THE sizes of vehicles are important points of 
consideration for the draughtsman. The 
leading proportions, such as are subservient 
to the presence of the passenger and his easy 
ingress and egress, have been dealt with in the 
previous chapter. 

The over-all dimensions of the different types 
are illustrated in 2 to 18 [page 2463], and it 
will be interesting to note how they compare 
with one another. Railway stock is certainly 
overwhelming when seen drawn to the same 
scale as a van or brougham ; and the absence of 
the horse in the motor-car greatly shortens the 
over-all working length when compared with the 
animal- drawn type. Of course, fire-escapes do 
not run about in the streets fully extended as 
the one shown. 

The sizes of the various pieces of timber used 
in construction have to be known by the body 
or pattern-maker, or whoever has the marking- 
out of the stuff. It would be a huge under- 
taking to tabulate all the various members used 
in the thousand and one different bodies running 
on wheels. Different workmen have their own 
particular fancy as to the size of a pillar or rail, 
but in any case a medium framework judiciously 
strengthened by ironwork is to be sought. 

Compensation for Weakness. If a 
pillar have several mortices or laps taken out of 
it, or, perhaps, be made to take a lock or hinge, 
we must add to its strength to compensate for 
the presence of these sources of weakness. The 
corner pillar of a brougham is made light, having 
little work to do, but its adjacent member, the 
short bottom side, has to withstand the fixing 
and strain of the pump-handle. We should expect 
to see different dimensions in the felloe of a 
two-wheeled rustic cart and in the hind wheels 
of a pantechnicon. In short, we must consider 
the work the piece has to do and what is fixed 
to it. Sometimes the shape or design of the body 
decides the dimensions. The reader is referred 
to the accompanying tables, which give leading 
dimensions of various types. 

Draught. The draught of vehicles is a 
subject which has had much theory expended on 
it, and in such complex instances as road 
carriages with locking fore-carriages and weight 
distributed in various positions between the 
wheels, no doubt the constructor has built 
on the safe side, being unable to work out 
his stresses satisfactorily. In railway work 
it has been more or less reduced to a science. 
On the permanent way we have very little 
friction between tyre and road, it being well 
known that there is often the difficulty of 
an insufficient amount of attrition. The 
force of gravity, or dead weight of the vehicle, 
combined with the various gradients is the chief 



resistance to be, overcome. The axle-arm or 
journal and the inner surface of its encasing box 
is also a factor in summing up the various sources 
of friction set up. In like manner the speed of 
the train means a proportional increase of energy 
to be expended by the tractive force. 

Influencing Factors. On our highways 
we have different road surfaces, kept in various 
states of repair and under varying changes of 
weather. Apart from the actual surface there 
are always accidental matters such as loose stones 
and ruts to take into account. The friction 
between the case-hardened exterior of the axle- 
arm and the similar finished interior of the box 
is not a very great factor in draught, as in 
all types of vehicles we see great perfection 
attained both in the construction of the ad- 
jacent parts and in the allowances for efficient 
lubrication. 

The best point of draught in a two-wheeled 
horse vehicle is a line from the animal's shoulder 
to the axle. In four-wheelers it has been found., 
that a line midway between the two axles and the 
point before mentioned gives the best result. 
If the weight be well supported in the wheels, we 
have an easy running vehicle. A four-wheeled 
dog-cart is easier to pull than a sociable for that 
reason. The narrower the track of wheels and 
the less the wheel base, the easier under ordinary 
circumstances will the carriage run. 

Suspension. Suspension is the considera- 
tion of the various mediums that exist between 
the body and the wheels and axles. The different 
kinds of springs ace designed to minimise the 
shocks to which the body is subjected by the 
contact of the wheels with the road where 
the roughness of the ground would soon break 
any type of spring. Springs are not fixed in such 
vehicles as general service waggons of the Army, 
although the driver has a spring under his seat to 
give a little comfort. 

Types of Springs. The' coachbuilder uses 
the elliptic spring, which has the load either 
exactly above or below the support, the side 
spring, with load at both ends and support in 
the middle, and the elbow spring, which has the 
load at one and the support at the other end. 
From these may be subdivided many other 
forms. 

The C spring, an old type, and really an elbow 
spring, has to withstand the forward pull of the 
brace. Comb ; ned with a dumb and under spring 
and perch under-carriage we see an old-fashioned, 
costly, yet unequalled, riding undergear. Much de- 
pends, however, on the braces. Van builders use 
heavy elliptic springs, especially in fore-carriages, 
but the greater part of the suspension is effected 
on side springs of strength varying with the 
load with or without cross and check springs. 

2725 



TRANSIT 

The motor car manufacturer uses side springs, 
sometimes in conjunction with cross springs, 
but with the presence of the pneumatic tyre, 
which is in itself elastic, the attention given 
to suspension is not perhaps as great as it 
should be. 

The railway coach and waggon builder uses 
springs of similar type to the heavy van builder. 
In bogies used under train and tram there are 
various special elliptical, side, and spiral or 
helical springs used. Springs are illustrated 
further on. 



of sufficient accuracy for an experienced work- 
man. When our coachmakers have made a draw - 
ing probably just an outline elevation with a 
few cross measurements they can make it suit 
their purposes for the construction of many 
succeeding jobs. The Frenchman generally 
makes a new drawing for each body under- 
taken with the result that his designs are fresher 
and please the critical eye of his customers, 
especially of those who demand novel oat- 
lines. 
The French motor-car builder is a successful 



CARRIAGES AND PUBLIC SERVICE CARS. 


Type. 


On Elbow. 


On Seat Kail. 


Tare Weight. 


Wheels. 


Double brougham 


4 ft. 6 in. 5 ft. 


3 ft. 3 in. 3 ft. 9 in. 


9 13 cwt. 


3 ft. and 3 ft. 8 in. 


Canoe or square landau 


5 ft. 5 ft. 6 in. 


3 ft. 3 in. 3 ft. 6 in. 


9 13 cwt. 


3 ft. and 3 ft. 8 in. 


(one horse) 










Full-dress coach 


6 ft. 8 in. 


3 ft. 10 in. 4 ft. 


1821 cwt. 


3 ft. 4 in. and 4 ft. 2 in. 


Four-in-hand coach .,, 


4 ft. 8 in. 5 ft. 2 in. 


3 ft. 3 in. 3 ft. 6 in. 


18 24 cwt. 


3 ft. 2 in. and 4 ft. 2 in. 


Two-wheelers 


Length of body, 20 


Width as above 


3 7 cwt. 


3 ft. 6 in. 5 ft. 2 in. 




in. 24 in. for one 


vehicles and ac- 








seat, 34 in. to 38 


cording to style 








in. for two seats ; 










depth of body ac- 










cording to design 









Mail phaeton 


Average, 5 ft. 5 ft. 


3ft. 6 in. 3ft. 10 


'810 cwt. 


3 ft. 3 in. and 4 ft. 




3 in. on seat line 


in. head room 






Four-wheel dog-cart 


3 ft. 6 in. 4 ft. 2 in. 


3 ft. 3 in. average 


5 7 cwt. 


2 ft. 9 in. 3 ft. 




length of body on 


on seat board 




2 in. ; 3 ft. 6 in. 




seat line 






3 ft. 10 in. 


Victoria phaeton 


From boot, 5 ft. 


3 ft. 3 in. 3 ft. 


6 8 cwt. 


3 ft. and 3 ft. 8 in. 






8 in. on seat 






Tramcars (double - deck ; 
electric ; 80 passengers) 
Omnibuses (horse-drawn ; 
garden -seat) 


23 ft. 6 in. on seat 
line over all 
9 ft. ; 12 passengers 
inside and 14 out- 


7 ft. wide overall 
across body 
5 ft. 10 in. over 
body ; 6 ft. 10 in. 


5 tons body 
only 
33 cwt. 


20 in. and 30 in. 

3 ft. 4 in. and 4 ft. 
6 in. 




side 


over roof 






VANS. 


Type. 


Over-all Dimensions. 
L = length ; W = width ; H = height. 


Wheels. 


To Carry a 
Load of 


Small covered motor van body. . 


L, 5 ft. 6 in. ; W, 4 ft. 5 in. at top ; 


800mm. 


10 cwt. 


Open parcel van . . . . f . 


W, 2 ft. 7 in. at well; H, 4 ft. 10 in. 
L, 8 ft. 6 in. ; W, 4 ft. 3 in. ; H of 


2 ft. 10 in. and 


30 cwt. 


Market gardener's or forage van 


sides, 2 ft. 1 in. 
L, 8 ft. 4 in. ; W. 4 ft. 2 in. ; front 


4 ft. 4 in. 
3 ft. and 3 ft. 


2 tons 




ladder projects 2 ft. 7 in. ; hind, 3 ft 


6 in. 




r>ox van . . 


L, 5 ft. 8 in. ; W, 3 ft. 11 in. ; ' 


2 ft. 10 in. 4 ft. 


15 cwt. 


Timber trolley 
Horse ambulance (two-wheeled) 


H, 4 ft. 8 in. 
L, 11 ft. 6 in. ; W, 4 ft. 7J in. 
L, 8 ft. ; W in centre, 3 ft 6 in 


3 ft. 4 ft. 6 in. 
5ft. 


4 tons 
1 ton 


Baker's van 


H, 5 ft. 
L, 4 ft. 9 in. ; W, 3 ft. 6 in. 


2 ft. 7 in. 3 ft. 


10 cwt. 


Pantechnicon van 


L, 16 ft. ; W, 7 ft. ; H, including 


8 in. 
2 ft. 9 in. 4 ft. 


3 tons 




well, 6 ft. 8 in. 


3 in. 





Drawing. Engineering has always been 
associated with carefully -prepared drawings 
and, to be efficient, the mechanical draughts- 
man must work with great precision and 

?n ffT^y 6 f 6 n0t ' there *re, surprised 

fmd that where the greatest attention 

has been given to vehicular drawing is where 

engineering plays an important part. The 

drawmg office of the railway company and 

motor-car builder contains many skilled ^ork- 

L. Among carriage builders it, is exceptional 



on 



K n on e P r es, 
clerk, or maybe the foreman, is capable of 
turning his hand to a full-size or scale drawing 
2726 



rival to us in the designing of motor-car bodies, 
simply because he pays more attention to it. 

Geometrical Design. When body draw- 
ings are prepared in the engineering office by 
an engineer, one may see in his designs many 
traces of the principles applied to engines that 
is, straight lines rounded off at the ends with 
arcs of circles. In railway carriage work all 
curves are usually described as being of certain 
radius, the rise in the roof being an example. 
We see this in some bodies of motor-cars, for 
which type of carriage it gives a very hard 
appearance. In railway work there is no 
objection to this business-like exterior and 




CONSTRUCTIONAL DETAILS OF VEHICLES 

24. Detailed cau-t board of a single brougham A. Hoopsticks B. Front seat rail Bl. Hind seat rail C. Front fence rail D. Front garnish rail E. Hind 
top rail F. Top back panel G. Quarter panel H. Corner pillar J. Hind standing pillar K. Hinge door pillar L. Shut door pillar M. Front standing 
pillar N. Fence, door, or middle rail O. Door bottom P. Rocker Q. Edge plate Ql. Edge plate flaps R. Solid boot side 8. Boot side panel 
T. Bottom boot bar U-V. Bracket and boot bottom side W. Footboard X. Bracket bar Y. Short, or seat bottom side Z. Standing pillar plate (let in 
flush) 2. Panel to hide above 3. Glass run in front fence rail 4. Side sweep line 5. Turnunder line 6. Fence plates 7. Inside line of cant rail 8. Out- 
side line of short bottom side 9. Hinge centre 10. Rabet for floor board 11. Contracting panel 12. Clear between rocker and door bottom 13. Wedge 
piece 25. No. 1. Combined section of door and standing pillar, double run No. 2. Combined section of door and standing pillar, single run No. 3. Door 
pillar and pillar top section of a landau A. Cant rail Al. Cant rail and door top combined A 2. Roof board B. Door top C. Top garnish rail D. Single 
glass run Dl. Double glass run D2. Cut between door pillar and pillar top E. Garnish rail F. Solid fence rail G. Top and bottom fence rail H. Elbow 
moulding (pinned on) .1. Guide separating wash blind from glass frame run K. Seat rail (fixed to standing pillar) L. Rocker (fixed to standing pillar) 
M. Door bottom Ml. Position of door bottom and check into pillar N. Floor board O. Edge plate P. Glass frame rest Q. Rubber buffer for glass 
frame R. Lining board S. Door panel S. Fence rail panel T. Wedge piece U. Fence plate V-V. Elbow line W. Square line of pillar X-Y. Turnunder 

!. Position of short bottom side 26. Six different methods of side framing in 2-wheeled carts , No. 1. Method giving a recess between seat line and 
bottom side No. 2. Typical bent side in conjunction with straight body side No. 3. Rustic cart, showing position of seats No. 4. Cheap method ; 
bottom not framed No. 5. Bent side forming wing, similar to No. 2. No. 6. Governess car 27. Method of drawing the plates of a spring : first, 

- 'r> line through eyes, allow for pitch, mark compass on centre line ; bottom line of long plate runs to bottom of eje ; all lines parallel ; cut off 
iis of plate and finish with a sharper curve 28. Detail of door and standing pillar showing working of concealed hinge A. Door pillar B. Standing 

pillar C. Door pillar in open position 

2727 



TRANSIT 

general distribution of the parts. We naturally 
expect to see fancy sweeps of any description 
finding little favour. Being on a proper 
strengthened underframe, it follows that the 
standing, side and corner pillars can be set 
out with mechanical exactness. If side doors 
are not included, the designer is able to apply 
still longer, never diverging straight lines. 
Strap plates, corner plates, commode handles, 
the position of bolts, are all set out as if 
some thinking machine rather than a human 
agency had been at work. Still all this is fitting 
for its particular purpose. 

Artistic Treatment. In motor-car 
work, by all means let the engineer have hard 
and fast lines for his frame, engine, and trans- 
mission gear, but the body demands a little 
more artistic license in its preparation. At 
the present state of automobile coachwork 
there is to be seen much freehand treatment 
in the contour of the several bodies. The 
Roi des Beiges type of tonneau requires much 
skill in its delineation both from the draughts- 
man and from the patternmaker. 

It is remarkable that such a harmonious 
combination of curves as in a C-spring victoria 
could have been evolved from a branch of in- 
dustry where so little attention is paid to draw- 
ing. Among certain shops undeniable evidences 
are seen of the want of proper preparation 
before marking out the stuff. A notable 
difference in broughams is seen between, say, 
a Barker - shaped carriage and the usual 
" growler." It is very little excuse that because 
the latter is a cheaper vehicle, the material 
should therefore be badly shaped. A simple 
outline to work to takes little time to prepare, 
and where duplication can be carried out without 
disadvantage, as in a stage carriage, the first 
drawing suffices for a number of bodies. 

Need for WorKing Drawings. The 
average van builder will probably resent the 
suggestion that there are advantages in a work- 
ing drawing. He will argue that his business 
has been conducted with success for many years 
without drawings, and therefore why should he 
burden himself with a needless array of paper 
and pencil or blackboard and chalk. With a 
few sizes noted on the back of a piece of glass- 
paper or waste timber he will gladly set to work 
to erect his van or cart. Still, perhaps, the 
day is not far distant when, with drawings of 
the useful scale of 1J in. to the foot and a few 
to full size, we shall see him who uses them 
judiciously outrunning his fellow tradesman who 
starts straight away with his saw and plane. 

The Study of Drawing. It is perhaps 
a promising outlook for those who have a deep 
concern for technical education that drawing 
plays a conspicuous part in the code of our 
schools. By its means the rising generation 
has the opportunty of being grounded in the 
elements of a subject which plays an important 
part in the success of those who enter the con- 
structional trades. 

After simple balanced freehand copies have 
given place to those more difficult, any child 
with a gift for drawing will have laid the 

2728 



foundation for much useful work. Freehand, a 
term used in the best sense of the word, that 
allows the wrist full play and gives on the 
paper lines that flow from the pencil, and do not 
consist merely in a series of spasmodic sketching I 
jerks, cannot be given too much attention, and 
many of the leading coachbuilders lay great j 
stress on the practice of this branch of work. I 

A designer will never create much that is I 
beautiful if he tie himself to the use of a scale, I 
rule, compasses, and ready-made curves. Let I 
him display his thoughts on paper, entirely I 
unfettered by mechanical means, and, given due l 
allowance for the construction of the vehicle in | 
hand, he will be all thp more likely to produce I 
a pleasing result. Freehand, therefore, is the J 
basis and true root of all real design. 

Scale Drawings. Then one may turn I 
to the mechanical side of drawing. Scale I 
drawing, the portrayal of an object to a certain 1 
definite generally reduced proportion, is a very I 
useful means of outlining the first rough work 
of a new job ; and in railway work the finished 
drawing cannot be conveniently made to full 
size except in sections. Although many scales 
are used, 1| in. to the foot, or one-eighth 
full size, is handy on account of the body- 
maker's rule being divided into eighths of 
an inch, every such division representing an 
inch on the small drawing. This work re- 
quires care in using the scale rule, although 
so-called scale drawings are not always drawn 
accurately, but only approximately in pro- 
portion, the situation being saved by writing 
the real measurements adjacent to the various 
lines. Probably a piece of work so finished is 
more quickly done, but is apt to be misleading 
and cause mistakes if a more correct drawing i 
is not forthcoming for actual use at the bench. 

Perhaps the railway carriage draughtsman 
turns out some of the finest scale drawing seen \ 
in vehicular work. Those who have seen a 
finished side elevation, plan, longitudinal and 
transverse section, together with a drawing of 
the frame and chief details of the running gear, 
will appreciate the remark. 

Projection. Scale drawing must be accom- 
panied with a knowledge of how to project the j 
different views in order to help form another. 
Plane and solid geometry has then to be studied 
carefully. How to draw an arc through a given 
point, to divide a line or arc into a number of 
given parts, to construct or copy an angle, are 
only a few simple instances among the many 
items that crop up in following this occupation. 

In -more complex bodies, as carriages and 
motor-cars, the turnunder and side sweep, 
scale of body -side and wheels, the outline of the 
body generally, all tend to make a back eleva- 
tion or plan at first difficult to mark out 
correctly. 

Model drawing is useful in giving the ability 
to make a rough sketch from the actual object, 
which is a convenient way of taking measure- 
ments. To be properly done, a wheel in half 
profile, a compassed bed, or the conformation 
of a finished piece of trimming, requires a study 
of object drawing. 




TRANSIT 




29. FREEHAND OUTLINE, SUITABLE FOR TRAINING VEHICULAE 
DRAUGHTSMEN 

Manipulation of the Tools. However 
much one may be versed in the theories of the 
work, the success of the drawing depends in 
great measure on the actual manipulation of 
the tools. Considerable accuracy is required 
in vehicle drawing. One should have a sharp 
chisel - pointed pencil of suitable hardness, 
measurements must be taken carefully from 
the scale with the eye directly over the 
division line on the rule when taking a dimen- 
sion, and a series of measurements must be 
checked by an over -all one. It is important that 
the drawing-board and T-square have true 
edges, and that right angles are formed the one 
with the other. A T-square with a long blade 
requires careful handling, and the paper or 
tracing-cloth should be stretched evenly and 
tightly over the board. Stretching paper by 
wetting and gumming the edges produces an 
unsurpassed surface on which to work. 

The drawing pins, when used, should be 
inserted leaning inwards towards the centre of 
the paper, and drawn over while being pushed 
home, so as to pull the paper tight. 

Drawing Pencils. Most draughtsmen 
prefer a hard pencil, such as H. or H.H., but it 
depends on the delicacy with which the tool is 



held. Some who have had a 
previous experience in work- 
ing hard woods, such as ash 
or teak, give to their pencil 
some of the old effort more 
suited to the chisel and 
router. In skilful hands, an 
H.B. pencil of good quality 
should answer an all-round 
purpose, but consideration 
must be made for the 
cleaner working of a hard 
lead. The use of compasses 
requires dexterous fingers, 
especially spring bows. Pains- 
taking draughtsmen often 
draw with these little com- 
passes the heads of bolts, 
spring eyes, the links of 
driving-chains and caps, and 
little corners are rounded 
off with them. 

Indian ink, either in bottle 
or rubbed up on the saucer, 
is used to line in the draw- 
ing. A stick of good quality, 
rubbed upon a vellum-sur- 
faced saucer, on which a little 
water has been placed the 
pen being filled with a brush 
will produce better lines 
than dipping the pen into 
a bottle. Fixed or water- 
proof ink is difficult to work, 
having a tendency to clog. 
Whatever method be adopted, 
the sides of the pen should 
be wiped before use. 

Indiarubber is a useful 
adjunct, and the variety 
that least destroys the sur- 
face of the paper is the best. Ink-eraser that 
does not depend on powdered glass or other 
scratchy substances for the proper fulfilment 
of its purpose removes ink lines and paint. 
The penknife should never be used. 

Tinting. The mention of paint brings up 
the subject of tinting. This is, perhaps, more 
adopted in show work for exhibition or for 
examination purposes. It is useful for a student 
to tint the various parts in accordance with the 
material used. By this means a working 
drawing becomes an artistic as well as a helpful 
chart of study. Tracings are often tinted on the 
back of the work. Fixed ink is useful for lining 
in the work before tinting. 

The draughtsman may complete his studies 
by taking up perspective, which, in a simple 
form adapted to commercial requirements, will 
be useful, as may be seen in architectural work. 
Value of Coloured Drawings. In the 
carriage and motor trades, where vehicles 
are made to sell, it is often an advantage in 
getting an order or clinching an inquiry if a 
coloured drawing be neatly made and despatched 
promptly to the customer. Should the style 
required be something new and the would-be 
purchaser require some special ideas of his own 

2729 



TRANSIT 

carried out, then the draughtsman has an 
opportunity of showing his real worth. An 
outline side-elevation drawing, perhaps in pencil, 
is " good enough," some will say, but a rival 
firm may make a small coloured perspective 
drawing on a gilt-edged card, and send it to a 
customer, who may chance to be a lady. Com- 
parison is then made between a stern business 
l-in. scale H. pencil working drawing* and a 
|-in. scale coloured little picture, showing a 
glance of the interior trimming. Perhaps the 
draughtsman may be forgiven if he has taken 
some license in making the body a little lower on 
the ground, and the door an inch wider in the 
opening. If a motor-car be the object under 
consideration, and the prospective purchaser is 
undecided and hesitates, being a lover of horses, 
then the artist shows his tact by making the 
mechanical portions as inconspicuous as is 
practicable. 

The Sphere of the Brush. The use of 
the brush is at its highest when it is used 
for touching up the junction of lines, rounding 
off dub ends, and other work too microscopic 
for the compass. 

The road-carriage builder's draughtsman will 
find that the usual shop French curves do not 
serve his purpose to any extent for scale work, 
and he will do well to buy veneers of boxwood 
or beech, and cut them out on the fretsaw to 
those shapes that he will soon discover are most 
useful. The railway draughtsman has little or 
no curves to worry about. 

In the van trade little is done in supplying 
inquirers with special drawings, but one may 
see that, with the different colour schemes and 
writing displayed, a wide field is open for work 
in this direction. A certain well-known firm of 
caterers advertise themselves to an appreciable 
extent by the presence in the streets of vans 
and carts that are two shades of blue, with 
writing and lining in white, blue, and gold. 
While considering this artistic branch of the 
work, perhaps a word or two may be said as to 
catalogues. 

Catalogues. Railway people generally 
place their productions before the camera, and 
leave the result to the devices of the process- 
engraver. Many excellently-printed catalogues, 
illustrated with half-tone blocks, emanate from 
the various companies that supply rolling stock. 
Automobile makers do the same, likewise van- 
builders, and the trade of the latter being older 
than that of the former, a good display of wood- 
engravings are to be seen. American carriage 
catalogues are also seen well illustrated in this 
manner. The carriage builder finds that the 
playful distortions of the camera and the 
reflections in highly varnished panels do not 
natter his work, especially when criticised by a 
non-photographer. But the work may be much 
improved by retouching, and vehicle photo- 
graphy is a branch that calls for as much judg- 
ment on the part of the operator as architectural 
work. 

Catalogue Illustration. To illustrate 
a circular, be it large or small, with photo- 
graphy as the first process necessitates the 

2730 



actual existence of vehicles. But a coach- 
builder, especially if he caters to the motor- 
body trade, can keep his designs up to date 
and indicate future novelties without having 
recourse to a considerable outlay of capital by 
having drawings as a basis. 

In advertising with illustrations it is well 
to ren: ember that the mesh of the block must 
be comparatively coarse if it is to be used in an 
ordinary newspaper, while the finer the surface 
given to the glazed art paper the finer may be 
the screen used. Line work and line blocks 
are cheaper means of producing illustrations. 
The printing can be done on a common paper, 
and this medium is suitable where much expense 
is not justified. 

Full=size Drawings. Full-size drawings 
are used chiefly by the road carriage builder. 
Paper may be obtained up to 74 in. wide and 
of almost any length. It is desirable lo make 
such drawings on paper for future reference 
rather than on a blackboard, although opinions 
differ. 

A plumb line makes a starting line from 
which the horizontal lines may be taken. A 
large square board is allowable when a long 
straight edge can be nailed along the bottom of 
the work. There are occasions when it is better 
to construct a right angle geometrically rather 
than by square. A moulding may be made 
parallel by the skilful use of a pair of quadrant 
compasses having a retaining screw, which are 
then set to gauge and run along the edge of the 
pattern. The draughtsman should remember 
that upon the accuracy of his work depends the 
success of the ultimate patterns or templates, 
and consequently the finished article. 

A section of the door and standing pillar 
combined, showing the glass run either single or 
double, together with the position of the cant 
rail, door top, fence rail, elbow, short bottom 
side, door bottom, and rocker, and the fixing of 
the edge plate, is an example calling forth much 
careful work. The designer must remember 
that increase of turnunder means heavier and 
more expensive material, that the glass-frame 
when up must be safely retained on the fence 
rail, and be sufficiently recessed in the groove 
in the door top. Again, when released, it must 
have a corresponding depth below in the door, 
so that in carriage work of the best description 
the top of the frame is level with the top of 
the fence plate. 

The Cant Board. Coachbuilders of former 
generations and a good many of the present day 
are often troubled with the mysteries of the cant 
board. Having had a preliminary training in 
two and four-wheeled carts, the bodymaker may 
be allowed to take a hand in the construction 
of broughams, landaus, landaulettes, sociables, 
victorias and barouches. The presence of the 
side sweep and turnunder in these vehicles, 
together with boot contractions, necessitates 
some distinct preparation for the marking 
off of the tenon and other shoulders and bevels. 
The cant board is, first of all, a plan. It is not a 
plan taken in any one place, but the body is 
shown at the cant rail, elbow and bottom, and 



TRANSIT 



anywhere that an important joint is located. 
Here we find all these lines plotted together, 
as it were, on one plane surface. One can see 
that, with a turnunder, the body is narrower 
at the bottom than at the elbow, therefore 
we should expect to find the bottom side line 
inside the elbow line on the cant. The side 
sweep decides the plan shape of the cant rail, 
fence rail, elbow, etc., and we cannot cut off our 
seat rail lengths unless we see exactly where 
they come. The difference in length of the 
various bars across the shoulders is seen exactly, 
likewise the door pillars planned so as to present 
a pair of parallel faces between which the glass- 
frame may slide. 

On our cant board, allowance is made for the 
swing of the door, taking the distance from the 
hinge centre to the shut pillar as the radius. The 



the beginner should first practise the outline 
in elevation of simple bodies, adding later the 
end views and plan. Then he may finish the 
vehicle throughout by adding the under -carriage, 
wings, lamps, cushions, and other details. Then 
types more curved should be taken, and the 
larger scales before the smaller ones. 

The Successful Draughtsman. A 
draughtsman, whatever vehicle he may under- 
take, must be in some degree versed in theo- 
retical and applied mechanics, must understand 
the laws of hygiene as applied to a proper 
current of air, and maintaining a suitable tem- 
perature, and must understand the various 
physical and chemical changes that materials 
suffer under varying climatic and other condi- 
tions. He will also be called upon to make 
" blue prints " from his tracings where duplica- 





30. SIDE ELEVATION AND HALF BACK OF A TANDEM DOG-CART 



driving boot is often narrower across the brackets 
than at the body. We can show this, thereby 
enabling the bodymaker to see the length of toe 
piece, bracket bar,, top and bottom boot bars, 
and the fixing of the boot side. The student 
will soon realise that the door pillars present 
a larger surface outside than inside, likewise the 
door is narrower across its internal dimensions. 

The Value of Practical Experience. 
Many affirm that to be an accomplished 
draughtsman it is necessary that the actual 
handling of the tools and workshop routine 
be undergone, .otherwise the individual does 
not grasp the details of his work in a practical 
mariner. We must not draw a pillar and 
then add the wasting, or provide a door 
without means of opening it and providing 
a safe clearance. But bench work does not ' 
always fit a man to go into the office. We may 
see an experienced mechanic draw a fore-carriage 
that will never lock, and carefully show the hole 
for the handle fixing through the standing 
pillar. Perhaps it is the practical mind unaccom- 
panied with the ability to put such thoughts 
on paper. Being given a technical knowledge, . 



tion is necessary. The coachbuilder now uses 
these, having seen their utility in the prints of 
the chassis supplied by the motor engineer for 
the bodymaker's guidance. 

If one can enjoy drawing as a pastime, the 
work at the bench has been wisely supplemented. 
The ambitious workman finds that he can cover 
a wide range of action with pencil in hand, and 
a piece of work is constructed sooner on paper, 
and either passed or rejected, as the case may be. 

Teachers in evening classes know how popular 
drawing is as a subject. It is sometimes rather 
disappointing to find the announcement of a 
well-prepared lecture producing a smaller atten- 
dance than a scale-drawing night. Many 
workmen, after a hard day at the shop, will 
gladly come some distance in order that a couple 
of hours may be spent in drawing. Try to teach 
them another branch of their trade, or help them 
to better themselves in their own particular 
vocation, and you may find your energy ex- 
pended in vain. It is not uncommon to find 
practical evening trade classes and technical 
drawing classes with a respective attendance 
of one pupil to seven. 



Continued 






2731 



Group 24 

PHYSICS 
19 



Continued from 
page 2603 



MORE PROPERTIES OF LIGHT 

The Principles of Light, Refraction and Dispersion. Newton's Experi- 
and their Results. Causes of the Mirage. The Prism 



ments 



By Dr. C. W. SALEEBY 



COME allusion was made to refraction in the 
3 paragraph called The Law of Least Time [page 
2560]. The word is derived from the Latin Frango 
(I break), and its appropriateness is evident to 
anyone who has seen the apparent breakage -of a 
pencil partly immersed in a tumbler of water. 
A still more striking instance of refraction is 
furnished by the familiar experiment of putting a 
coin in a teacup, standing so that it is just hidden 
from the eye by the edge of the cup and then 
pouring in water. At a certain point the coin will 
become visible. This means that the rays of light 
passing from it through the water have been 
refracted or turned at an angle on passing from 
the water into the air, so that you are enabled 
to "see round a corner." The laws of refraction 
hold true whether we trace the course of light 
from, for instance, air to water or from water to 
air. In the first case, the light is bent towards 
the normal ; in the second case it is bent from 
the normal. (We have seen that the normal is 
the perpendicular to the surface.) The facts 
of refraction are very much more important than 
those of reflection, because they enable us to make 
discoveries concerning the very nature of light, 
and because of their value in optical instruments. 

The Laws of Refraction. If we state 
these laws in a double form, the first is identical 
with the similar law of reflection. The incident 
ray, the refracted ray, and the normal are all 
in one plane. 

The second part of the law of refraction is much 
more difficult, and is known as the law of sines. 
Professor Tait thus states the two laws in one 
sentence : " . . the incident and refracted rays 
are in one plane with the normal to the surface, 
and the sines of their inclinations to it are in a 
constant ratio." This latter part may be other- 
wise stated, thus : no matter the angle at which 
the incident light falls upon the refracting sur- 
face, the ratio of the sine of the angle of incidence 
to the sine of the angle of refraction is always 
the same for any two given media. This 
remarkable fact the law of single refraction- 
was discovered by Snell, a physicist of Leyden, 
about the year 1620. 

The accompanying figure will allow the reader 
who is unacquainted with trigonometry to under- 
stand the meaning of this 
law. We have taken equal 
lengths of the incident ray 
and of the refracted ray, 
and from the terminal 
points of each a and 6 
have drawn perpendiculars 
to the normal (the dotted 
lines). Given the same two media, say air and 
water, the ratio of the one dotted line to the 
2732 






other is always the same, no matter at what angle 
the incident light impinges. 

Refractive Index. It is necessary to 
understand clearly what is meant by the 
constancy of the ratio between the two sines or 
between the dotted lines drawn in the conditions 
of our diagram in order to be able to understand 
what is called the refractive index. The ratio of 
the sine of the angle of incidence to that of the 
angle of refraction is always greater than one 
when the light passes from a rarer to a denser 
medium, as, for instance, from air to water. This 
is only another way of saying that, in such cases, 
the ray is always bent towards the normal. The 
converse of this statement is obviously true. It 
is thus possible to express very briefly the 
amount of refraction which is characteristic of 
various media, assuming that in each case the 
light passes into them from air. The ratio of 
the sines in the case of the passage from air into 
water is as 4 to 3, and the term refractive index 
is applied to this figure ; in other words, the 
refractive index of water is 1-33. This may be 
compared with the refractive index of the 
diamond, which is about 2*4. It is this very 
high value of the refractive index which gives 
the diamond its brilliance. [See also below.] 

A Complication. But the case is not so 
simple as we have hitherto described. Snell 
stated the law of simple refraction perfectly, 
but for one notable exception. He said nothing 
about the kind of light employed ; nor could he, 
since he did not realise those facts concerning 
the nature of light which refraction itself has 
subsequently enabled us to discover. In de- 
scribing the refractive index for any two media, 
or for any second medium in relation to air, it is 
necessary to specify that the light be homo- 
geneous, or all of one wave length. If we 
employ mixed light, such as white light, its 
various constituents are differently refracted ; 
thus the figures quoted above are true only for 
homogeneous yellow light of a given wave length. 
This the reader already knows, since we have 
quoted from Newton himself, the discoverer, 
the statement that " Light itself is a hetero- 
geneous mixture of differently refrangible rays." 
We may make further quotations from the 
classical words in which Newton announced his 
discovery in a letter to a friend. 

Newton's Experiment. " In the year 
1666 1 procured me a triangular glass prism, 
to try therewith the celebrated phenomena 
of colours. And in order thereto having 
darkened my chamber, and made a small hole 
in my window shuts, to let in a convenient 
quantity of the sun's light, I placed my prism 
at its entrance, that it might be thereby refracted 




to the opposite wall. It was at first a very 
pleasing divertisement to view the vivid and 
intense colours produced thereby ; but after a 
while, applying myself to consider them more 
circumspectly, I became surprised to see them 
in an oblong form, which, according to the 
received laws of refraction, I expected should 
have been circular. . . Comparing the length 
of this coloured spectrum with its breadth, I 
found it about five times greater." He then 
goes on to describe several modifications of the 
experiment which he thought might explain the 
result. For instance, he altered the thickness 
of his prism and transmitted the light through 
parts of different thicknesses. He also varied 
the size of the hole in his shutter and tried placing 
the prism outside the hole instead of inside, but 
he always got the same result. Many other 
suggestions occurred to him, all of which he 
successively dismissed. One of these is of great 
interest, since it shows how the mind of the 
philosopher observes apparent trivialities, and 
since it suggests an explanation based on the 
corpuscular theory of light. It has a bearing, 
too, upon many sports and upon rifle shooting. 

" Then I began to suspect whether the rays, 
after their trajection through the prism, did not 
move in curve lines , and according to their more 
or less curvity, tend to divers parts of the wall. 
And it increased my suspicion when I remem- 
bered that I had often seen a tennis-ball, struck 
with an oblique racket, describe such a curve 
line. For a circular as well as a progressive 
motion being communicated to it by that stroke, 
its parts, on that side where the motions conspire, 
must press and beat the contiguous air more 
violently than on the other, and there excite a 
reluctancy and reaction of the air proportionally 
greater. And for the same reason, if the rays of 
light should possibly be globular bodies, and by 
their oblique passage out of one medium into 
another acquire a circulating motion, they ought 
to feel the greater resistance from the ambient 
aether, on that side where the motions conspire, 
and thence be continually bowed to the other. 
But notwithstanding this plausible ground of 
suspicion, when I came to examine it, I could 
observe no such curvity in them. And besides 
which was enough for my purpose I observed 
that the difference betwixt the length of the 
image and the diameter of the hole, through which 
the light was transmitted, was proportionable 
to their distance." 

The Crucial Experiment. Finally, 
Newton tried what he calls the experimentum 
crucis, or crucial experiment, a phrase derived 
from a celebrated argument of Bacon's in his 
" Novum Organum." He says : 

" V I took two boards, and placed one of them 
close behind the prism at the window, so that the 
light might pass through a small hole, made in 
it for the purpose, and fall on the other board, 
which I placed at about 12 ft. distance, having 
first made a small hole in it also for some of the 
incident light to pass through. Then I placed 
another prism behind this second board, so that 
the Jight trajected through both the boards 
! might pass through that also, and be again 



PHYSICS 

refracted before it arrived at the wall. This 
done, I took the first prism in my hand, and 
turned it to and fro slowly about its axis, so 
much as to make the several parts of the image, 
cast on the second board, successively pass 
through the hole in it, that I might observe 
to what places on the wall the second prism 
would refract them. And I saw, by the variation 
of those places, that the light, tending to that 
end of the image towards which the refraction 
of the first prism was made, did in the second 
prism suffer a refraction considerably greater 
than the light tending to the other end. And so 
the true cause qf the length of that image was 
detected to be no other than that light is not 
similar or homogeneal, but consists of difform 
rays, some of which are more refrangible than 
others ; so that without any difference in their 
incidence on the same medium, some shall be 
more refracted than others ; and therefore that, 
according to their particular degrees of refrangi- 
bility, they were transmitted through the prism 
to divers parts of the opposite wall." 

Explanation of Refraction. In order 
to explain the facts of refraction on his own 
theory of light, Newton assumed that the 
corpuscles of which he thought light to consist 
must travel faster in a denser medium faster 
in water than in air. But on the wave theory 
of light we must assume that light travels 
more slowly in the denser medium, and in such 
a case the refractive index expresses the ratio 
between the two velocities. In order to satisfy 
ourselves on this point, it is necessary to 
demonstrate experimentally that light moves 
more slowly in water than in air. This was 
proved by direct measurement more than half 
a century ago. 

Aerial Refraction. Provided that the 
air through which light passes be all in the 
same physical state, the light will travel in 
straight lines ; but if, for instance, the density 
of the air be changing, its refractive index 
changes, and the light is constantly being 
turned in this direction and that. Hence, there 
is the wavy appearance of the atmosphere which 
is sometimes noticed, but the most striking 
instance of this is furnished by the case of a 
lighted candle or gas-jet. In a church or a 
conceit room everyone has noticed the wavy 
appearance of the air above such a source of 
heat. The gas-jet gives rise to currents of hot 
air which pass upwards in an irregular fashion 
due to draughts. Looking, then, at a window 
beyond such currents, it seems to be thrown 
into vibration. 

Refraction and the Setting Sun. 
Now, we believe that there is an upper limit 
to the atmosphere. Beyond it the light travels 
in pure ether alone. When it strikes the atmo- 
sphere it should, therefore, be refracted, bent 
towards the normal just as wlen it passes from 
air to water. Naturally the refractive index 
of the air will become greater as it becomes 
denser, that is to say, as the light advances 
towards the earth. The more obliquely the 
light enters the atmosphere the more marked 
will be the refraction. These facts are of much 

2733 



PHYSICS 

interest in astronomy. It follows from them 
that when a celestial object is near the horizon, 
so that the light from it is penetrating the 
atmosphere very obliquely, refraction is very 
marked. Thus, at sunrise or sunset the solar 
disc appears not circular but elliptical, the 
long axis being horizontal. This is due to the 
fact that the light from the upper part of the 
disc is less markedly refracted than that from 
the lower part. 

Let the reader draw for himself a circle 
representing the surface of the earth, and then, 
a series of concentric circles external to that, 
representing atmospheric layers of different 
density. Let him then mark two points, one 
to indicate an observer and the other the sun 
below the horizon. Let the solar light be bent 
towards the normal, again and again, as it 
passes through the ever-denser atmosphere. 
Take, then, the final bending, prolong its line, 
and it will be realised that the sun, or, rather, 
a virtual image of the sun, may be seen, even 
when the sun himself is below the horizon. 

Total Refraction. It follows from the 
laws of refraction that under certain con- 
ditions light must be totally reflected from 
the surface, refraction being impossible. Thus, 
in the case of homogeneous light in air that is 
shining upon water, the refractive index, as 
we have seen, is about one-third. If, however, 
the angle of incidence is made extremely oblique 
the law of sines cannot be satisfied and the 
light is all reflected from the surface of the water. 
The case is much more striking, however, if we 
consider the source of light to te under the water, 
and the light to be endeavouring to make its 
way into the air. We have already seen that 
in such a case the light is bent away from the 
normal. If the incidence of the light be made 
more and more oblique, at last the ray is totally 
captured ; the light cannot get out of the water 
at all, but is all turned back, this being known 
as total internal reflection. The limiting angle 
of incidence, at which all refraction becomes 
impossible, is known as the critical angle. 
Light cannot pass from a denser into a rarer 
medium when its angle of incidence exceeds 
the critical angle for the case in question. In 
the case of the diamond the critical angle is 
very small as compared with glass or water. 
Indeed, light cannot get out of a diamond 
except at an angle less than about 23. If 
the angle be greater than this the light is totally 
reflected internally. Hence, the brilliance of 
the gem. 

The Mirage. Just as the laws of refrac- 
tion explain the visibility of celestial objects 
which may be actually below the horizon, so 
the critical angle and total reflection produce 
the mirage, an optical illusion by means of which 
one may be able to see terrestrial objects which 
are often really far below the horizon. This 
occurs where the density of closely adjacent 
layers of air varies greatly. In the desert, for 
instance, the air near the ground may sometimes 
be rarer than the air above it. The mirage 
may take many different forms, the image some- 
times being inverted, sometimes erect, double 

2734 




or single. It occurs, of course, also at sea. 
The commonest form is where distant objects 
seem to be reflected in what looks like a lake 
of water in the heavens. The phenomenon is 
due to successive refractions through successively 
denser layers of air until at last a layer is reached 
at the angle of total reflection. The rays of 
light are then returned to the eye of the observer. 
The Prism. We all know what, in general, 
is meant by a prism. From the present point 
of view, a glass prism is simply a refracting 
medium bounded, or partly bounded, by plant 
surfaces which form an angle with one another. 
If the surfaces of such a medium be parallel 
to one another as, for instance, in the case of 
a thick sheet of glass, the light passing through 
it is refracted, but emerges from the refractive 
medium in a course strictly parallel to its 
previous course. Thus in looking through a 
sheet of glass the position of objects relatively 
to one another is not changed. The whole of 
the light passing through has been refracted ; 
but there has been no modification of the 
mutual relations of the 
refracted rays. Very dif- 
ferent is the case of the 
prism. The accompany- 
ing diagram shows a; 
prism through which a 

ray of light is passing, the light being supposed 
to lie in the plane of the paper. We see that 
when the light enters the prism it is bent in the 
direction of its thicker part and again in this 
direction on emergence. 

Dispersion. But now let us suppose 
that we are dealing with ordinary white light. 
The prevous quotation of Newton's words 
will tell us what happens. When Newton made 
a slit in his shutter he found that the image 
of it after passage through a prism yielded a 
band of colour. Newton's experiment can 
easily be repeated. A mirror placed in the 
sunlight is used to direct a ray of light through 
a slit into a dark room, a prism is placed in the 
path of the ray and a band of colours consti- 
tuting the 
spectrum is 
thrown 
upon the 
opposite 
wall. The 
technical 
name for 

this spreading out of the constituents of white light 
into a many-coloured band by means of a prism 
is "dispersion." " The amount," says Professor 
Tait, " by which any part of this spectrum is 
shifted from the true position of the bright 
slit depends (other things being equal) upon 
the amount of the refraction. It also depends 
upon the angle of the prism. And, for a given 
angle, the length of the spectrum depends upon 
the difference between the refractive indices 
of the red and the violet rays. This is called 
the dispersion." 

The Correction of Dispersion. If, 
now, we take a second prism, having the same 
angle as the first, and place it in the path of the 




PHYSICS 



spectrum, we find that it recombmes or gathers 
together again the dispersed rays, restores the 
light to its original direction, and yields us the 
unaltered image of the slit again. This simple 
experiment of Newton proved once and for all 
that sunlight is a mixture of all sorts of colours, 
and that the colour we call white is simply the 
sum of all these. But Newton further concluded 
from the second experiment that dispersion and 
refraction go together, since he found that when 
he corrected the dispersion he also corrected the 
refraction. In other words, he concluded that 
the amount of dispersion is, in all substances, 
proportional to that of the refraction. If this 
were so, and we combined two prisms made 
of two different substances, having different 
refractive indices, and also having different 
angles, so that the second would exactly annul 
the dispersion caused by the first then the 
refraction would also be annulled. Fortunately, 
however, as we shall see later, Newton was 
wrong. Many years afterwards it was dis- 
covered that " we have in certain media large 
refraction with comparatively small dispersion, 
and vice versa, and thus that the dispersion 
may be got rid of while a part of the refraction 
remains." Previous to this discovery, it had 
occurred to one observer that the human eye 
might furnish the key to the problem for in 
the eye there are several media of different kinds, 
and their combination permits of refraction with 
only very little dispersion. To this we shall 
return when we consider lenses. 

A New Complexity. So much for a pre- 
liminary discussion, with the irreducible mini- 
mum of mathematics, of reflection and refraction 
at plane surfaces. We must now turn to the 
difficult questions raised by the incidence of light 
upon spherical surfaces. 

We may begin with reflection at a spherical 
surface. If we take any point upon the surface 
of a sphere, we may conceive of a plane which is 
called the tangent plane, and which may be 
understood best by saying that the plane of a 
billiard table is the tangent plane to that point 
where a ball rests upon it. Now, what we 
have already defined as the normal in such a 
case must pass through the centre of the sphere. 
These facts are all that are necessary by way of 
introduction to the understanding of the beha- 
viour of a spherical mirror. Such a mirror may, 
of course, have two reflecting surfaces, the one 
internal or concave, and the other external or 
convex. Speaking of such a mirror, we define 
as its centre, or more properly as its centre of 
curvature, the centre of the sphere of which 
the mirror forms a part. The mid-point of the 
reflecting surface of the mirror is called its pole, 
and the straight line joining the pole and the 
centre of curvature is called the principal axis. 
These terms are quite simple, but the reader will 
do well to draw diagrams for himself in order 
to illustrate them... The next term requires a 
. little more care. 



The Principal Focus. By the principal 
focus we mean that point towards which tho 
mirror reflects the rays that fall upon it directly 
that is to say, in a direction parallel to its prin- 
cipal axis. The diagram shows the incidence of 




rays parallel to the principal axis. After reflec- 
tion such rays all converge to the point F, the 
law, of course, being followed that the angle of 
reflection is equal to the angle of incidence. In 
our diagram AC will represent the normal to the 
tangent plane at A, and the angles on each side 
of it must be equal. Hence, it can be easily 
proved that the point F is midway between P 
and C that is to say, we make the assertion that 
the principal focus of a spherical mirror lies on its 
principal axis, half-way between its centre of curva- 
ture and its pole. To this point all rays of light 
impinging directly upon the mirror are reflected. 

If we turn the mirror round, so to speak, and 
use its external surface so that it becomes a 
convex mirror, the same is true. The rays 
turned back from the surface of the mirror 
indicate the principal focus, which is again the 
mid-poirt of the principal axis of the mirror, 
but in this case, of course, the rays of light do 
not reach the focus at all, and it is thus a virtual 
focus [see diagram (6)]. 

Spherical Aberration. The simple 
statement we have made as to the principal 
focus is, however, not strictly true. The further 
away the incident rays are from the pole of the 
mirror the less accurately do they conform to this 
rule. They pass near the principal focus, but 
not actually through it. The nearer the principal 
axis the less is the deviation. The effects of this 
inexactitude upon the resulting image are tech- 
nically known as spherical aberration. If, how- 
ever, instead of using a spherical mirror, the 
section of which is an arc of a circle, we use a 
parabolic mirror, the section of which is a para- 
bola, all rays whatsoever, parallel to the principal 
axis of the mirror, are precisely reflected through 
the principal focus. For astronomical purposes 
absolute accuracy is necessary hence parabolic 
mirrors are always employed for the fine mirrors 
of reflecting telescopes, and spherical aberration 
is thus avoided. 

Evidently in the case of a spherical mirror 
any radius is equally able to act as principal 
axis. On this principal axis there are two 
points which have a reciprocal relation to one 
another, such that the rays from either are 
brought to a focus at the other ; they are 
therefore called conjugate foci or focuses (Latin 
jugum, a yolk). We shall afterwards sea that 
leases have similar properties. 



Continued 



2735 




2736 



MODERN BRIDGES 

Bridge Foundations. The Cantilever Principle. The Forth, 
Quebec, and Sukkur Bridges. The Zambesi Bridge 



Group 11 

CIVIL 

ENGINEERING 
19 

BRIDGES 

continued from page 2499 



By Professor HENRY ADAMS 



Bridge Foundations. The engineers of 
the rising generation having the use of ferro- 
concrete and steel piling will probably marvel 
at the temerity of bridge engineers in building 
upon wooden piles and platforms so late as the 
nineteenth century, but it has yet to be proved 
that the newer materials have any advantage. 
The piles under old London Bridge remained 
sufficiently sound to support the massive super- 
structure after nearly 700 years, and the present 
London Bridge, built in 1828, rests upon a plank 
and pile foundation. Trajan's bridge across 
the Danube rested on wooden piles, and one of 
these, when taken up for inspection after having 
been in use more than 16 centuries, was found to be 
petrified to a depth of three-fourths of an inch, but 
otherwise little altered. Cast-iron piles have been 
in use since about 1820, but they appear to have 
been used only for cofferdams and wharf walls. 

Rolled=steel Piles. Rolled steel piles 
of a pattern practically identical with some of 
the cast-iron piles of nearly a century ago have 
been recently introduced. They are particularly 
suitable for sheeting round foundations, coffer- 
dams [15], and bridge cylinders [16]. When put 
together the joints run at 12 in. centre to centre, 
and the shape permits of any outline in plan 
being followed. For a sudden bend the pile 
is curved transversely, as 17. 

Screw Piles. Small bridges and pier 
jetties are often carried by screw piles. 18 shows 
the screw for the lighter cases and 19 for the 
heavier. The former may be made in a separate 
casting attached to a wrought-iron or steel 
column, or may be simply formed on the lowest 
length of a cast-iron column. The latter is 
always formed on the bottom length of a cast- 
iron column, and is usually adopted for column 
diameters of 12 in. to 30 in. They are screwed in 
by a temporary timber framing bolted on to the 
upper flange and rotated like a capstan head by 
a rope from a crab winch. The width of the 
screw blade varies according to the nature of 
the foundation ; the largest diameters are used 
upon sand and peat. 

Hydraulic Piles. For similar purposes, 
hydraulic piles are sometimes used upon a sandy 
foundation. A railway viaduct was carried 
across the sands of Morecambe Bay in spans of 
30 ft., each pier being composed of two main 
piles and two raking piles, as 20. The piles 
were in 9 ft. lengths, and 10 in. diameter outside, 
with | in. thickness of metal. The discs on the 
main piles were 30 in. diameter, with an orifice 
2 in. diameter for the discharge of water. The 
mode of sinking consisted of loading the top of 
each pile and guiding it by a pile engine, pumping 
water down the pile, and as it escaped through 
the bottom working the pile backwards and 



forwards with an alternating rotary motion, sc 
that the cutters on the disc could loosen the 
marl while the water washed away the sand 
and fragments. The piles were sunk to an average 
depth of about 20 ft., and it was calculated 
that the sand had a supporting power of about 
5 tons per square foot when it had settled. 

Bridge Cylinders. The foundations for 
heavy bridges may be of masonry built up 
within cofferdams or caissons, or may be of 
cast-iron cylinders filled with concrete. This 
arrangement is shown in 21. Timber piles are 
driven at intervals round the site to act as 
guides to the cylinders, the bottom section, con- 
sisting of a steel curb with cutting edges, is put 
in position, and the cast-iron segments forming 
the body of the cylinder are then bolted together 
on the curb with water-tight joints. The cylinder 
soon begins to sink by its own weight, and the 
material is then excavated from the interior by 
hand or by grabs, and additional sections are 
bolted on at the top. Extra weight is added 
when necessary to force the cylinder down. Two 
or more such cylinders are strongly braced 
together at the top to form a single pier. 

The Cantilever Principle. The greatest 
advance in modern bridge building for large 
spans has been due to the advantage taken 
of the cantilever principle. When a beam is 
continuous over several spans it is found that 
between the supports there are two points 
where the bending moment vanishes ; these are 
the points of contrary flexure, or where the tensile 
stress in the upper portion and compressive 
stress in the lower portion, above each support, 
diminish to zero preparatory to their gradual 
increase to the maximum stresses of tha reverse 
character at the centre of the span. This is 
the principle of cantilever bridges, of which the 
Forth Bridge is the most widely known example. 
It is the same as if cantilevers were built out on 
both sides of the pier to balance each other, 
and the cantilevers from adjoining piers then 
carried an ordinary girder suspended between 
their points, these points being equivalent to the 
points of contrary flexure in a continuous beam. 

The Forth Bridge. This bridge [22], 
based upon the cantilever principle, involved 
nothing theoretically new, but the magnitude of 
the structure and the marvellous skill shown 
in the design evoked well deserved praise, and 
although many subsequent bridges of the same 
kind may reach a larger span, the chief merit 
still remains with Sir Benjamin Baker and 
those allied with him in the work for having 
been the successful pioneers. The work of 
erection, although expedited with all the skill 
and force that modern science could suggest or 
money could procure, occupied no less than 

2737 



15. RoLUd 
sheen piLing 




16 RoLLed steeL pi Ling 
for bridge pier 



17 RoLLed sCeeL piUng 
for sm&LL pier 



- - L -- 

18. Taper screw pi'Le 



mecaL 




19 CyUnofncoiL 



2( flr/ . 

segments. 



k - - 2V- 
20 HydrauLic pile 



2738 



FOUNDATIONS FOB BRIDGES 



22 ELevation of one span of the Forth 
Bridge. 





23. 

Half eievadon of the Quebec Bridge 



26. 
Section of 25 



ELevation of Victoria Bridge . 
Zambesi River 



24-. ELevation of the Sukkur Bridge 



30. Part view of 
Pipe - Arch Bridge 



27 ELevojtion of the 
Grtin en thai Bridqe 




E Levy t ion of the Mungsten 

Br/afge . 



28. ELevation of the 
Garabit Bridge 



MODERN LARGE SPAN BRIDGES 



2739 



CIVIL ENGINEERING 

seven years. Altogether it reaches from 90 ft, 
below high water to 360 ft. above, and is If miles 
long. The weight of the superstructure is about 
45,000 tons, but altogether over 50,000 tons of 
steel were employed, besides 140,000 cubic yards 
of masonry and concrete. There is a clear head- 
way for ships of 150 ft. above high- water for a 
width of 500 ft. at each of the two great openings 
of 1,710 ft. span, or nearly one-third of a mile. 
Half the bridge only is shown in 22. 

The Quebec Bridge. The bridge over the 
River St. Lawrence at Quebec now in course of 
construction is of the same type as the Forth 
Bridge. It will have the largest single span in the 
world, exceeding the Forth Bridge by 90 ft. 
The total length of the bridge will be 3,300 ft., 
the length of the channel span 1,800 ft., and 
the anchor spans 500 ft. each. The cantilevers 
project over the waterway 562 ft. 6 in., and the 
central girder carried by their points is 675 ft. 
span. For a length in the centre of 1,200 ft. 
there will be a clear headway of 150 ft. above 
the highest tides. The central depth of the 
cantilevers is 315 ft., and of the middle girder 
130 ft. The arrangement of the bracing is shown 
in the half elevation [23]. The cantilever towers 
stand 360 feet above the river. The total width 
of bridge floor is 63 ft. It is intended to carry 
a double track railway, with an electric track and 
highway on each side, and two 5 ft. foot-walks. 

Material for Large Bridges. In large 
bridges by far the most serious load is the 
weight of the structure itself, therefore the 
strongest material compared with its weight is 
used. If aluminium would bear comparison 
with steel in strength, its lightness would render 
it the material without equal for bridges, but 
at present mild steel holds the premier position. 
There is practically a limiting span for any 
material, according to its strength and weight, 
beyond which it is impossible to go, and we 
may consider that this is nearly reached in the 
case of the Quebec bridge. 

The SuKKur Bridge. The Sukkur 
Bridge over the River Indus is upon somewhat 
of the same principle as the Forth Bridge, 
but decidedly less pleasing in appearance, due 
to the contrast between the braced compression 
members and the other parts, as shown in eleva- 
tion in 24. These three illustrations show some 
of the variations of which the cantilever prin- 
ciple is capable. 

The Zambesi River Bridge. The bridge 
over the Zambesi at the Victoria Falls, Rhodesia, 
completed and opened in 1905, is a two-hinged 
braced and riveted arch span of 500 ft., with 
lattice girder spans of 75 ft. for the approaches. 
It weighs 1,650 tons. The arch trusses have a 
rise of 90 ft., a depth of 105 ft. at the skewbacks, 
and 15 ft. at the crown. This bridge is re- 
markable from its position, being built across a 
rocky gorge about 650 ft. wide, with precipitous 
cliffs of hard basalt on each side. The front 
elevation and section are shown in 25 and 26. 

The Grunenthal Bridge. Steel-braced 
arch bridges have been erected of many dif- 
ferent designs; there would, in fact, seem to 
be almost unlimited scope for variation. The 

2740 



Grunenthal Bridge over the Baltic Canal [27] 
consists of a single span of 513 ft. 6 in., with 
an arched girder of bold proportions having a 
rise of 78 ft. 6 in. and a straight line of roadway 
running through it. The effect is, on the whole, 
very satisfactory. 

The Gaiabit Bridge. The Garabit 
Bridge over the River Truyere in France [28] 
has a similar arch with pivoted ends, but sunk 
entirely below the roadway. The span is 541 ft., 
and the arch has the enormous rise of 196 ft. 9 in. 
There are theoretical reasons for reducing the 
braced arch to a mere pin bearing at the ends, 
but the effect is harder agreeable when it is 
remarked that in all arches the thrust is greatest 
at the springing. 

The Mungsten Bridge. The opposite 
characteristic is seen in the Mungsten Bridge 
[29], which is otherwise of a similar character. 
This bridge is 560 ft. span and has the enormous 
proportionate rise of 250 ft. The arch is deepened 
towards the abutments, where it is ingeniously 
framed in with the braced towers supporting 
the roadway. 

Pipe Arch Bridge. A novel bridge was 
recently erected over the River Sudbury near 
Saxonville, Massachusetts. It forms part of 
the aqueduct that carries the Boston water 
supply, and consists of a steel arched pipe 
[30] 7 ft. 6 in. diameter, and in. thick, double 
riveted. The span is 80 ft. and the rise 5 ft. 6 in. 
To resist the great thrust on the abutments, about 
40 ft. of solid concrete was filled in behind them. 
Some difficulty was experienced in handling 
this work, both in the shops and in the field, owing 
to its unusual character, but it would be im- 
possible to imagine a simpler solution of an 
awkward question. 

Long Span Bridges of the Future. 
So far back as 1867 Sir Benjamin Baker, in a 
book entitled " Long Span Railway Bridges," 
showed that of eleven different types of bridge, 
which included every class of design, not abso- 
lutely eccentric, that which he called the con- 
tinuous girder of varying economic depth was the 
one capable of being built to the greatest span. 
This type was practically identical with that 
afterwards adopted for the Forth Bridge. 
By mathematical investigation he showed that 
the limiting span was theoretically 2,500 ft. 
in wrought iron, at which span with an infinite 
quantity of material and a strain of 80 cwt. 
per square inch, the bridge could not carry 
more than its own weight. With steel having 
a value of 130 cwt. per square inch compared 
with 80 cwt. for wrought iron, he showed that 
the limiting span would be 4,000 ft. The prac- 
tical limit would, however be reached at about 
half these spans, owing to the excessive cost due 
to the great weight of material involved in the 
wider spans. We can hardly anticipate the 
introduction of any new principles of design, 
but we may hope that improvements in steel 
will enable higher strains to be safely reached, 
and the saving in weight that this will effect will 
enable still wider spans to be crossed if occasion 
should arise. 

Continued 



VIOLIN BOWING 

Function and Balance of the Bow. How Effects of Light and Shade are 
Obtained. Advantages of Combined Playing. Compass of the Violin Family 



Group 22 

MUSIC 
19 

VIOLIK 

continued from p. 2512 



By ALGERNON ROSE 



I7ROM the foregoing remarks it should be 
evident that the violinist's left hand has 
a very important office. All the finger tech- 
nique which a keyboard player has to master 
with both hands, in the violinist devolves on his 
left hand alone. As the majority of human 
beings are right-handed rather than left-handed, 
we have hitherto treated specially of the 
manner in which the less exercised member is 
employed. 

The Hands. Not only does accurate into- 
nation depend on the way in which the left 
fingers stop the notes, but the quality of the 
tone is influenced by the manner in which the 
digits move, and the rapidity of such motions 
is the first necessity for velocity in execution. 
Moreover, D'Arpentigny, in his interesting 
book on " La Science de la Main," draws 
attention to the fact that the most correct and 
thorough musicians are characterised by having 
what are known as spatulate fingers, such as 
are numerous amongst mathematicians and 
algebraists, strict observance of time and 
measure being the necessarily precedent condi- 
tion of musical rhythm. Musicians, then, whose 
finger-tips are spade-like in shape, are generally 
those who can play in time most accurately. 
On the other hand, the same authority shows 
that melody is the peculiar province of fingers 
which are pointed. Such are less reliable in an 
orchestra, although they are more capable of 
taking the world by storm in solo work. Where 
both forms are combined, as was the case with 
Paganini and Liszt, executive musical powers 
appear to reach their culmination. 

Should the student, then, possess thick, square- 
ended fingers, he will, as a rule, find it wise 
to give more attention to the cultivation of 
melody and expression in playing, than if he has 
fine-pointed fingers, in which case, his chief care 
should be accuracy in time, as playing in tune will 
come more naturally to him. Be that as it may, 
correct movements of the right hand are as 
essential to the violinist as those of his left, for 
the right hand manipulates the bow. Without 
it the violin makes no musical appeal, inasmuch 
as the right hand and arm movements supply 
the necessary mechanism for the production of 
the tone, just as the keys, levers, and other 
parts of the complicated double escapement, 
check and hammer action do in the pianoforte. 

Nuances. If the left hand of the violinist 
is indispensable for the production of tone, 
semitones, intervals and nodes, it is the right 
hand of the player which furnishes not alone 
the vibration, but the piano, dolce, forte, 
fortissimo, smorzando, diminuendo, calando, and 
all the other subtle shades or nuances which 



go to make up expression in playing. The 
student should understand that the develop- 
ment of tone- quality is something infinitely 
more than mere loudness or softness. Accuracy 
of fingering may be the first essential, but unless 
this is allied to skill in bowing, the result is 
colourless and uninteresting. A graceful and 
effective handling of the fiddle-bow is a fine art. 
The bow represents more to the violinist than 
do the keys to the pianist. When well managed 
it is the fiddler's loud and soft pedal. It acts 
also in the capacity of the swell shutters of an 
organ. 

But whereas pedal effects are produced 
mechanically on a keyboard instrument, the 
violin student must train his right hand and 
arm to furnish the mechanism, and before he 
can use the bow with dexterity, long and 
careful practice is indispensable. But a charm 
of the violin and its bow is that the two 
invariably reward merit and show no con- 
sideration for persons. Thus, the needy but 
good player with a cheap fiddle and cheap bow, 
who by practice has made himself expert, will 
obtain a better effect than the bad player, 
although he possess a priceless Strad. 

Function of the Bow. Neat execution 
in violin playing is only possible by adroit 
bowing. An orator may have a good voice, 
just as a fiddler's left hand may give correct 
intonation ; but it is the speaker's know- 
ledge of the art of delivery which influences 
and stirs up the emotions of his audience. 
Hitherto the student, if he has followed the 
directions given, has endeavoured to bow with 
regularity and straightness of direction we 
have not confused him by describing the many 
varieties of expression obtainable by the right 
hand. It is now impossible for him to give 
too much attention to the different styles of 
bowing. For these he will find that sometimes 
the whole bow is used, and at others the half 
bow ; and that the lower, the middle, and the 
upper parts of the bow each have their duties. 

Open Strings. The student should en- 
deavour to infuse light and shade into the 
four open notes by varying the side-pressure 
of the bow as they are played. To get the 
most delicate softness of expression, which was 
such a charm in the playing of the great 
Paganini, the straightness of the bow may now 
slightly be departed from. For ordinary pur- 
poses the stroke of the bow should be midway 
between the end of the fingerboard and the 
bridge. But the softest effect is obtained when 
the bowing is done close to the end of the finger- 
board, whilst the sound is most brilliant when 
the bow approaches the bridge firmly. 

2741 



MUSIC 

Now begin at the tip slowly. Put the point 
loosely on the string, lower down than usual. 
Push the bow upwards, increasing both the 
pressure and the speed as well as the direction