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i .HI 

Presented to the 

LIBRARY of the 





Vol. VI. Pages 43695232 



\t thrheadir 
to this k*r indie 
at any time to understand 


Agriculture. Beekeeping. Gardening. 

lIHO In..' i I lain inc. Poultry. 

'''i'H^e'Mos.'ouTof'aMinYnminofLaud. Garden 

,.- f,, r PtflMOn :.n.i l'i- til Market Gardening. 
r 2. 

Art. Architecture. Glass. Earthenware. Carving. 

ART. Theory mn.l Training. Painting. Sculpture. Architecture (Theory. 

.1 Training). History and Ideals of Art. 
GLASS AND KU.THFNWAIO Including Pottery. 
fAirviso. Wood. Bone. Ivoiy. Horn. Tortoiseshell. 

Biology. Psychology. Sociology. Logic. Philosophy. 

BIOUXJY. Including K volution, Pala-otitology, Heredity, Anthropo- 
logy. Ethnology. 
r-> LOUT. Including Psychical Kosearch. 

S i.,i.o..> . Including Political Kconomy. 

PHiLosomr. SyHtems of Thought. 

History and Systems. Cliristianity. 

Building. Cabinet Making. Upholstering. Fire. 

firit.niMi Kvcavating. Drainage. Manufacture of Bricks, Limes. 
and <vment. liricklaying. Clay Wares. Reinforced Concrete. 
Masonry. Cariientry. Slates and Tiles. Plumbing, Joinery. 
ir'v and Smiths' Work. Painting, Paperhanging nnd 
OX, Henting, Lighting, and Ventilation. Building Regulations. 
Quantity Surveying Building In Business as a Builder. 
KIRK. Fin-proof Materials. Fire Prevention. Fire Extinction. 

Chemistry and Applied Chemistry. 

i nruisTRY. Inorganic and Organic. Chemistry of the Stars. 

APPLIKD riiKMisTiiv. Acids anil Alkalies. Oils (Fixed Oils and Fats: 
\\ ., xcs ; Kssential Oils and Perfumes ; Paints and Polishes). < 'anulcs. 
8op. Glycerhi. Glm-s and Adhesives. Starches. Inks. Tar and 
U'.-.d Distillation. Matches, ( Manure. Waste Pro- 
ducts. IVti oleum. PajH-r Making (including Paper Staining and 
Uses of Paper). Photography. 

GROI-P 6. 

Civil Service. Army and Navy. 

Civil. Pmvirr. Municipal. National. ImiH'rial. 
ARWr A.M> NA\V. lion to Enter Them. 

Clerkship and the Professions. 

CI.CRKSHIP AND ACCOUNTANCY. Complete Training. Bookkeeping. 

NANKING. The Whole Practice of Hanking. 

KM H\M K. Life, Fire. Accident, Marine. 


KMTAT AGENCY. Dejiartmenu and Officials of a Great Estate. Train- 

GROUP 14. 

Geology. Mining. Metals and Minerals. Gas. 

< ; hoto'iv. The Making of the ivirt h. 

MINIS . The I'ractice of Mining : Coal, Gold, Diamonds. Tin, etc. 

METAIS Metallurgy. Iron and Steel. Iron and Steel Manufactures. 

Metal Work. Cutlery. 

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

GROUP 15. 


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

Housekeeping and Food Supply. 

SERVANTS. Qualifications and Duties of Every Kind of Servant. 
COOKKKI. A Practical Course, with Recipe*. 

ashing. The Laundry as a Business. 
Fooi.s AND BEVKRAQES. Milling. Bread-maki 

ing a Land Agent. 
IFIMCIXE. Training of a 

Doctor. Specialist*. Veterinary Surgeons. 

i h.-inisUaiid Druggists. Dentistry: The Dental Met-hanic. Ilome 
ami 1'ioic^iomil Nursing. 
Cmtimam. How to Enter the Ministry of all Denomination*. 

:K. Teachers. Professorships. Governesses. Coaches. Tutors. 
<itirs. etc. Institution omcials. Political Organisation* 
LAW. Solicitors and Ba.rri.ters. Personal and Commercial IAW. Copy- 





Drawing and Design. 

Hni\G. Freehand, object. Geometrical. j Brush. 

Light and Shade. 

T.IIM-*I. IM ' ..].)ersmiths, Tinmen. 

md Joiners; PI. 

..n. Illumination. Textile*. Wall 



I>RKU. Dressmaking rnd.-rel..ihing. Children's Clothing. Tailor 
Illlinery. Mens HaU. lurs and Furriers. Feathers 

GROUP 10. 


Kiigineering ^Telegraphs and 

Gi:.,rr K. 

Civil Engineering. 

. Surveying. Varieties of Construction Machines 
Koad. Bridges. Hai| w:i j H an.l Tra.nwavs \\ t '",.[ 
lilies. 1'uinps. HarUmrs Du.-ks 
Work, in liiwinesH as a Civil Engineer 

Mechanical Engineering. Military Engineering. 
Arms & Ammunition. 


IIITARV >:N-.,I\>>:IMS I; J'oiitoons. Undoes Fortifications Rafta 
Trenche,. Pacing Kivers. Condition* fn Peace and War 
HMS AXB A MurxiTiox. Manufacture of Arms and Explosives 

Gto. HPHY 

and Explosiv 
GROUP 13. 

Geography. Astronomy. 

Physical. Political. Human. Com.uercJal 
A MIIVO "i the Solar Sj.u-i,,. 

fectiouery. Sugar. 

tion Catering. Brewii 

Tea. Coffee. Choc 


Biscuits and Con- 

nts. iruit. t isneries. Food Preser- 
Wines and Ciders. "' 

Condiments. Fruit. Fi 

GROUP 17. 

Mineral Waters. 


PRINTIN.;. Composing by Hand and Machine. Type 
Founding. Engraving and Blocks. Bookbinding and 
Limi.uiiKS. Officials and Management of Libraries. 


Ideas. Patents. Applied Education. 

IDEAS. The Power of Ideas in Life. Brains in Business. 
PATENTS AND INVENTIONS. How to Protect an Idea, 
APPI.IBD EDUCATION. Application of Education iu Daily Life. Finan.-e. 
GROUP 18. 


How to Study a Language. Courses in Latin. English, French, German, 
Spanish, Italian. Ksperanto, Greek. A Tal.le of Hoot Word*, 
GROUP 19. 

Literature. Journalism. Printing. Publishing. 

LITERATURE. A Survey of the World's Great Books and their Writers. 
Poetry. Classics. Fiction. Miscellaneous. How to Bead and Write. 
,l,,i HNAI.ISM. A Guide to Newspaper Work, with Practical Training. 

Cutting and 

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 Oi>eration of Wood Working Machinery. 

Wood Turning. Miscellaneous Woodwork. 
GROUP 21. 


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

GROUP 22. 

Music. Singing. Amusement. 

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

Orchestration. Conducting. Bell Hinging. Manufacture of 

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

Amusement. Sports Officials. 

UROUI- 23. 

Natural History. Applied Botany. Bacteriology. 
Natural Products. 

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

Ari'LiED BOTANY. Tobacco* Tobacco Pipes. Forestry. Rubber and Gutt a 
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. 

Pn vsics. A Complete Course in the Science of Matter and Motion. 
POWBB. A General Survey of Power. Natural Sources. Liquid and 

Compressed Air. 
PKIME MOVERS. Engines. Steam. Gas. Heat. Turbines. Windmills. 

Physiology. Health. Ill-health. 

PHYSIOLOGY. Plan of the Body. Digestive. Circulatory. Respiratory 
Ixx'omotor and Nervous Systems. The Senses 

B " OMl Hygiene - E vi . 

Its Special Forma Common Ail 

ILL-HEALTH. General Ill-health. 
inents and Domestic Remedies. 

Shopkeeping. Business Management. Publicity. 

SHOPKKEPING. A Practical Guide to the Keeping of all Kinds of Shops 
!' MNESS MANAGEMENT. The Application of System in Business. P 

As a Business. 

. App 

Pi IILICITV. Advertising from all Points of View 
GROUP 27. 

Shorthand and Typewriting. 

SHORTHAND. Taught by Pitmans. 

TYPEWRITING. Working and Management of all Machines. 
GROUP 28. 

Textiles and Dyeing. 

TEXTILES. The Textile Trades from Beginning to End. 
DIKING. Dyes and Their Application. 
GROUP 29. 

Travel and Transit. 

TRAVEL. How to See the World. The Business Side of Travel 

TRANSIT. A General Survey of Means of Communicatnon 

\ KHI.-LES. Construction of Air, Land and Sea Vehicles 'Busi 

Liveryman, Carrier, etc. Driving. 
R* ILWA vs. The Management and Control of Railways. 
SHIPS Shipbuilding. Shipping. Management of Ships 


V: 11HB^ 


^:::::l^^::::^;&l&^f$W* jp$^ I 




APR 1 1 2000 J 


Principles of Cheese-makin:.' .. 44 
! ,,f Oheew-making . . . . w* 

Pr...-ti.-:il Poultry Breeding.. .. * 
Tlif Art of Breeding 4 ^'-' 
Tin- Breeds of Poultry 8 
in- and Fe.-dinu I'oulm .. BOW 


ir ,-ttesand I'ipfS .. 4373 
.M Industry .. ..40 

Growing Tree* for Timber .. .. 46,<, 

I low to Become a Forester . . . . *9 
Kuhl>er 5045 


The Kaw Materials of Pottery .. 5160 


Refining Sugar \ 
Suirar Analysis and Glucose. . . . 4554 
Condiments " 
Fruit Preserving 
Fisheries 498 '' 


Accordion. Flageolet and Con- 
certina . . . . 4484 

Fife, Piccolo, Flute, and Ocarina 4567 
The Clarionet 4785 
Oboe, Cor Anglais and Bassoon . . 4891 
The Bagpipes 5059 
Sarrusophones and Saxhorns . . 5129 


Soul and Matter 4449 
The Structure of Matter . . . . 456( 
The Mvstery of Solution . . . . 4698 
An Eternal Living Thing . . . . 4882 


The Chief Sources of Power . . . . 5010 
Fuel and other Power Producers 5127 


Printing 5026 
The Work of the Compositor . . 5156 


Photographers 4417 

Science and' Sea 1-islnn- .. .. 5188 


Glass and Glass-making 45.S1 
Plate Glass and Bottles 47^4 
Ornamental Glass 4930 
Stained Glass 49 


Rest, Sleep, and Exercise . . . . 438/ 
The Natural Man . . 4 
How to Feed and Clothe Children 4681 
Bovs and Girls at School .. .. 4862 
The Best House to Live in .. .. oOoO 
Light and Warmth in the House 5193 


Medieval Europe *898 
Charles Stuart and His Times . . 4551 
Cromwell and His Successor .. 4/61 
The Last of the Stuart Kings . . 4841 

Tli.' Manufacture of Rubber. . . . 5199 


chemical Analysis 44 " 
Acids 4625 
Alkalies . . 47TU 
< >ils, Fats, Waxes and Candles . . 4829 
i:h.-erinand Essential Oils 4963 
Paints and Polishes -"'HI 


The Naval Officer * 400 


Art in Modern Times 4::.fJ 

Auctioneering 4983 
Valuing ;>151 


The Flank's Bookkeeping . . . . 4438 
Bank Officials 4587 


Flo.,,- and Partitions 4445 

Photographic Dealers 4419 

The French Revolution .. .. 5110 

Picture Framers 4609 
Picture Postcard Dealers . . . . 4611 
Plumbers 4612 
Postage Stamp Dealers 4615 
Post Office Sub-agents 4617 
Poulterers and Game Dealers . . 4711 
Provision Merchants 4713 
Saddlers 4888 
Scientific Instrument Dealers . . 4993 
Seedsmen . 4995 


Insurance as a Career 4725 
The Branches of Insurance . . . . 48 


The Editor and His Paper . . . . 4429 
How to Write . . . . 4577 

The Free-lance in Journalism . . 4671 
The Journalist's System .. .. 4815 


Esperanto 4511, 4655, 4799, 4943,5087, 

French 4506, 4649, 4794, 4938, 5082, 5^7 
Italian 4503, 4047, 47JW,' 41)37, 5080, 5225 
Spanish 4509, 4652, 4796, 4940, 5085, 5229 

Top-making 4432 

Sewing Machine Dealers . . . . 4997 
Ship Chandlers 5220 
Silk Mercers '5221 

Fin-- resist inn Construction . . .. 4751 
si ite 'ind Tile Work 4865 

Silver and Electro-plate Dealers. . 5223 


The Making of Men and Nations. . 4369 
The Ideal Marriage 4535 

luiiicrv . ... 5179 


:nl Sewage Di-|Misal . . 445(1 
1-,'e Disposal . . . . . . . 4547 
Bacterial Treatment of Sewage .. 4742 
The Purification of Sewage . . . . 4821 
Refuse bfstnu-tioii 5<20 
Hydraulics 5113 

The Family and the Race . . . . 4663 
Woman's Place in the World . . 4825 
What are Woman's Rights?. . . . 4973 
War, the Enemy of Mankind . . 5it95 

Telegraphy 4382 
Sending Telegrams 4605 

Bottoming and Heeling Boots . . 4540 
Saddlerv and Harness 4783 
Harness Materials 4885 
Bridles and other Saddlerv . . . . 5057 
Making Horse Collars 5191 



Hart h as the Home of Man .. .. 4403 
Adapting Kartli to our Need- i;,15 
Produ. is ,,t tli.' Forest tr,57 
Tli.- World's Cereals and Fruii^ . . is?:{ 

i Orop c.t.v.i 

.. .. 5117 

DnwiBft of Engine Details.. .. u-j:i 

in.' !..|- Sln-et -metal Workers 4521 
1'r" 1 .... 47:i7 
Prohl. . ..s in .,.-, and Cvlindei 
In' 1 lindcrs . . .. 5038 
Pol- . . cd Artii-lt-s . . ;,u;:( 


!>! -- !! '.ll-ls . . |17- 

Triangles and Parallels 4623 

Multiple News Messages . . . . 4668 
Telegraph Apparatus 4902 
Morse Sounder and Relay . . . . 5065 
Whcatstone's A B*' System .. 5177 


Textile Printing 4499 
The Hosierv Industry 4619 
The Hosiery Factory 4763 
Hand and Machine Lace-making. . 4877 
The Lace Factory 4978 
Floorcloth and Linoleum . . . . 5122 

The Railway Staff 4379 
Track and Running Staffs . . . . 4591 
Railwav Signals and Brakes . . 4(is5 
The Passenger Traffic 4803 
Merchandise Traffic 506s 
Minor Railway Departments . . 5101 

Parallelograms . . 4723 

Areas . .' 4905 
Circles 5043,5197 


Boring, Screwing, & Sawing Tools 447'.l 
Some Varieties of Tools 4582 
Tools for Measurement 4701 
The Lathe 4912 

Reciprocal ing and Rotarv Tools. . 4!<n 
Milling and Grinding Machines . . 5204 
Dictionary of Terms used in 
Machine Tool Practice . . . . 521" 


Iron and Steel 44(14 
The Making of Wrot Iron . . . 4iw: 
The Manufacture of Steel . . . . 474( 
The Making of Bessemer Steel .. 4907 

Open-hfarth Steel . . . 5O1.' 
Wire and Wire Work 516' 

Mill"'.' .. .. 45(14 

1 Shape-making. . 
Wire Shape-making 

Hat and Punnet Shapes . . 
Hat Sh.i],-s 


From the Painting in the Royal Exchange by SOLOMON J. SOLOMON, R.A. |.See Hisiom J 


Human Nature and Society : Society and Human Nature. Men and Systems : 
Systems and Men. The Great Lesson of History. The Society that Endures 

Group 3 


Continued from pa-e 4i>7S 

By Dr. C. W. S ALEE BY 


T ET us take a single contemporary illustration 
of the all-important proposition which is the 
central truth of sociology. There never yet was an 
autocracy or an oligarchy which did not depend 
for its existence upon an army. One man cannot 
defy the wills of millions merely because he is 
labelled emperor or king. He must have an 
army ; as long as he has an army he will persist, 
and as soon as his army becomes disaffected, 
his knell is sounded. 

The Russian Tyranny. Now, a society, 
if it is to produce an army devoted not only to 
aggression by the autocrat against foreigners, but 
also devoted to the control, and, if necessary, the 
destruction and murder of its own flesh and 
blood the people from whom it has sprung 
that society must be capable of producing a 
sufficient number of men whose nature is such 
that, so long as they are paid, they will not 
hesitate to trample upon the liberties of their 
own people. Thus, the very existence of a 
tyranny such as the Russian tyranny, which 
daily distresses every lover of liberty and of 
mankind all the world over, is in itself a demon- 
stration of and a consequence of the existence 
of a certain kind of human nature among the 
Russian people. There is an all - important 
addition to be made to this proposition, and we 
are about to make it. Even in this present 
partial stage of analysis, however, the sociological 
phenomena presented by Russia will suffice, 
especially for any reader who has read the 
history of the French Revolution, as a fair 
illustration of our general proposition that 
human nature is the key to sociology that the 
characters of a society depend upon the charac- 
ters of its units in an infinitely more fundamental 
and necessary fashion than the characters of the 
molecule of a chemical compound depend upon 
the characters of its constituent atoms. 

The Key to Human Nature. But man 
is a spiritual being, and not merely a dynamic 
mechanism like an atom. No chemist contends 
that there is any reaction of the molecule upon 
its atoms. The atoms and their relations 
determine the molecule, but the molecule does not 
modify the atoms. Immeasurably different is the 
case of society. Human nature, we have said, is 
the key to sociology, and this is true, but it is 
only half the truth ; the complementary truth is 
this, that sociology is the key to human nature. 
That, perhaps, is a somewhat bald and imperfect 
way of stating the proposition, but we so state it 
in the hope that we may make it memorable. 
Our business is not to instruct, but to educate, 
and nothing could Toe more useless than that the 
reader should accept these propositions simply 
because they are to bo found on this page. But 

here we submit them to him for his consideration 
and reflection : Human nature is the key to 
sociology ; sociology is the key to human nature. 

And now let us return to the illustration 
which sufficed in proof of the first proposition, 
but which we described as having been only half 
analysed. Now if the first part of our analysis 
was important, this is infinitely more important. 
It is interesting, doubtless, that the sociologist 
should find in human nature the key to the 
problems presented by societies. But we are 
not all sociologists, and this abstract proposition 
has no particular practical consequences for us. 
The converse proposition, however, which is the 
most generally and most fatally ignored of all 
sociological truths, concerns us all infinitely 
and vitally, as we shall now see. 

A Peop e Deserves What it Gets. 
It is an easy matter to say that the pro- 
duction by the Russian people of a brutal 
soldiery, which has hitherto been willing to mili- 
tate against the happiness of the people from 
whom it has sprung, depends upon human nature 
as it is exhibited in the Russian people. It is 
even possible, judging by this and countless other 
illustrations, to say that, in general, a people 
deserves what it gets. For instance, only a 
superstitious people will be governed by such a 
priesthood as many of those which have dark- 
ened human life and served the devil since the 
dawn of civilisation. 

Only a brutal people, again, can permit them- 
selves to be dominated by a brute of their own 
race. Yet again, only a foolish and selfish body 
of voters will be led away by the lies of 
politicians so as to give power to unworthy, 
foolish, and selfish men. From democracy, 
autocracy, or priest-ridden societies in short, 
from societies of all kinds, may be quoted proofs 
of the truth which leads us to say in such cases, 
" Serve them right." The impartial observer 
recognises that it does serve a people right to 
groan under this, that, or the other burden. 
It is a product of their own lack of courage, or 
wisdom, or honour. Indeed, to say that on the 
whole a people deserves what it gets a proposi- 
tion which has its light as well as its dark side, 
of course is to say in other words what we 
have already said, that human nature is the 
key to sociology. This is a doctrine which 
everyone really admits, whether explicitly or 

Heredity and Environment. But the 
thoughtful critic, looking upon the present 
unhappy state of Russia, and admitting that 
there must be brutal and ignorant elements in 
a people which produces an army for its own 
repression and grovels under superstition, will 



interest and a unique difficulty. He has to study 

hum Hi 

i -"->' thaj .human ^nature 
ntire ly upon the ^^*^ 
wiili which cad, man is endowed from the first. 
The Factors in Making Men. 

1)mvt ,,,, :1 s we all know, is false. Environment 

in fashioning human nature. 
Ldv is determined by the a tin., spheric environ 
In( . nt . by the nature of the food, by considerations 

of tem,H.rature. and th*e like. In this manner the 
inborn bodily eharacters are prof oundly modi* 
in every one' of us. But what, pray, constitutes 
the all'important part of the environment of the 
mind ' Buckle thought, as we have seen, that 
100 much stress could scarcely be laid upon the 
ace or absence of mountains or earthquakes, 
thunder and lightning. Doubtless he recognised i 
truth of some importance ; but nowadays we are 
i i;l t the forces which are most potent m 
moulding the spirit of man are themselves 
ual. Human nature is chiefly modified not by 
.//. but by IniiiHin natural forces. It is the 
Hocial atmosphere, the social environment, that is 
n modifying the inborn characters of 
men For instance, it has been finely said that 
n breathe only in an atmosphere of 
d super- 

,,: the brutal regime hm ds brutality; in 
a ,,: 'v the military .spirit is fostered ; 

kftor heredity, inoom- tin- most important of the influences 
.num.- what a man shall be are the 
. tin- social tradition, the spiritual 
.-pliere that he breat 

Society Makes the Average Man. To 
hition will he all but impos. 
in-n- ambition is obviously 

futile. If then- be no conceivable possibility 
..ut of his class, the 

.-.tious habit of mind will not be fostered 
m him He will be different, in a \\.-rd. from tin- 
would have become in a democratic 
we are not disputing the 
' while most men are anvils and 
,11 an\ it or a hammer, there 

an* I M hammers, who make opinion. 

forms and 

hat the majority 

..ild'-d by society into the form 

nd tends to its 

ion that sociology is largely the 

to human nature, as human nature is^-ly 

the key ' ; profound interest to 

th pure ir Meker 

study with a uni<|iie 

upon and modify the first. 

Brutality Breeds Brutality. Thus, to 
turn our Russian instance, the sociologist 
iTto k himself whether the characters of 
the Russian people -including the character a 
being able to produce a brutal soldiery-are 
inborn, necessary, and permanent, or whether 
,hev are not products of the brutal military 
regime. He has to inquire, indeed, whether 
anv people, even the most democratic and 
freedom-loving whether, indeed, such a people 
as ourselves, subjected for two generations to 
dominance by autocracy, militarism, and eccles- 
iasticism, would not in turn become capable of 
producing an army such as the Russian army. 
In a word, the sociologist has to deal with circles. 
Most of them in the past, alas ! have been vicious 
circles The superstitious or the brutal regime 
has fostered and produced the superstitious 
and brutal habit of mind which, in its turn, 
strengthens and makes possible that regime. 
Once we grasp the truth of the two abstract 
propositions upon which so much emphasis has 
been laid, we shall have acquired a wholly new 
means of passing sociological judgments. For 
instance, in his " Essay on Man," Pope writes : 
" For forms of government let fools contest, 

Whate'er is best administered is best." 
To the untrained reader this may seem satisfying. 
If it be true it is a very important truth, but if 
it be false there is no more dangerous falsehood. 
The reader is well aware that, at any rate, it 
cannot be accepted without question^ because 
it does not inquire into the effect of " forms of 
government " upon human nature. 

The Failings of Democracy. Now let 
us sec how the central sociological truths of action 
ami reaction between society and the individual 
bear upon current political discussion. So far 
as the influence of human nature upon society is 
concerned. Poj>e's couplet will stand criticism. If 
there were no reactive influence such as we have 
described the couplet would be true. Everyone 
admits that forms of government, in order to be 
-sfu!. or as successful as they are capable 
of being, ate at the mercy of human nature, 
upon which their administration depends; and 
the great majority of untrained students of these 
subjects are content merely with recognising the 
half-truth which Pope recognised. For instance, 
sensitive people are sometimes shocked at the 
MS, the blindnesses, the st upidities of which 
democracy is capable. Such people are apt to 
turn in disgust from the democratic ideal, and 
to declare that the best form of government, 
after all, would be government by a wise and 
beneficent autocrat, if such could be obtained. 
'They see that democracy is liable to wire- 
pulling and the wiles of demagogues and the 
influence of wealth. They see, in short, that 
democracy may be very badly "administered," 
to use Pope's word, and they think that even 

such a form of government as an autocracy 
would be infinitely better if better administered. 
Government and Character. Now, we 
submit that all such opinions ignore the truth 
that different forms of government, even if 
all be ideally administered, differ profoundly 
in their influence upon human character. It 
is unthinkable that the same type of citizens 
could be produced under an ideal autocracy or 
hierarchy (government by priests) as under 
and in an ideal democracy. Different causes 
must produce different effects, and effects upon 
human character are the only important effects, 
perhaps, produced by any causes in the whole 
universe. The practical problem for the sociolo- 
gist who, as we have seen, is not merely a 
scientist or student of what is, but also a moralist 
or student of what ought to be is to produce 
such a society as will make the best citizens. 
It is not merely his problem even to find the 
type of society which will keep human nature 
at its present level of intelligence and virtue. 
He knows that the average level is appallingly 
below the level of the highest, and he knows that, 
as Spencer somewhere says, what is possible 
for human nature here and there is possible for 
human nature at large. 

Human Nature is Not Always the 
Same. The sociologist who is not a believer 
in evolution or the doctrine that progress is 
possible is, of course, a mere anachronism to- 
day. He is a survival from the intellectual 
atmosphere that preceded the idea of evolution, 
and, as such, is no more than an interesting 
and significant curiosity. If there be any- 
thing of which the sociologist is quite sure 
it is that, popular unwisdom notwithstanding, 
human nature is not " the same in all ages." 
He knows, on the contrary, that human nature 
is profoundly modifiable by circumstances. He 
knows that the ideal of human nature is vastly 
superior to the average reality, and yet he 
knows that the ideal is attainable. In passing 
his judgment, therefore, upon different forms 
of society, such as autocracy and democracy, 
or upon different theories of societies, such 
as individualism and collectivism, or upon 
social customs or Acts of Parliament, or, in 
short, upon one and all of the influences that 
determine the incessant changes of society, 
the wise sociologist asks himself what will be 
the effect upon the character of the citizen 
the effect upon human nature. 

A Nation is Made by its Units. There 
is one criterion alone by which the work of 
any and every social act is to be judged, and 
that is its effect upon individual character. 
Says Herbert Spencer, in words which should 
be written over the portals of every legislative 
chamber on earth : 

" Let it be seen that the future of a nation 
depends on the natures of its units, that their 
natures are inevitably modified in adaptation 
to the conditions in Avhich they are placed, 
that the feelings called into play by these 
conditions will strengthen, while those which 
have diminished demands on them will dwindle, 
and it will be seen that the bettering of conduct 


can be effected, not by insisting on maxims of 
good conduct, still less by mere intellectual 
culture, but only by that daily exercise of the 
higher sentiments and repression of the lower 
which results from keeping men subordinate 
to the requirements of orderly social life letting 
them suffer the inevitable penalties of breaking 
these requirements and reap the benefits of con- 
forming to them. This alone is national education. 
Of the ends to be kept in view by the legislator, 
all are unimportant compared with the end of 
character-making ; and yet character-making is 
an end wholly unrecognised." 

Why the Statesman Fails. The best 
form of government, then, is that which makes 
most rapidly and easily for the development of 
the highest worth in the individual citizen. We 
must later ask what is that form. 

The only criterion of the worth of any society 
is to be found in the lives of its citizens. The 
great lesson of history is that other objects have 
been conceived as the proper objects of society, 
and that certain consequences have flowed 
from the pursuit of those objects. Let us 
compare and contrast the consequences which 
follow when other objects than the production of 
individual worth are sought by the statesman or 
the social reformer. We shall choose con- 
trasted instances in the endeavour to show 
that it is utterly immaterial whether the object 
sought be good or bad in itself. In either case 
ultimate failure will follow. 

History abounds with instances of societies 
or nations whose rulers have set certain more 
or less selfish objects in view and have for a 
time attained them. We know the history 
of empires ; we know that, in the past, at 
any rate, unqualified Imperialism has always 
cut its own throat in the long run. We have 
various instances from all ages of governing 
powers who have set themselves to the produc- 
tion of powerful armies as means of conquest. 

Militarism and Family Life are 
Eternally Opposed. To this end all legis- 
lative measures have been consecrated 01 
prostituted and the end has been attained. 
Doubtless many other things have had to go 
education has been one-sided, dealing with the 
body rather than the mind ; moral education 
has dealt with the production of unquestioned 
obedience rather than with the production of 
a sense of personal responsibility for one's own 
actions ; family life, with all that it implies 
in the ennobling of character, has been sacri- 
ficed, for militarism and family life are eternally 
opposed. Instances may be chosen on the small 
scale or on the large. 

The reader was taught, perhaps, in his youth 
to admire the spirit of the Spartans who sacrificed 
everything to military efficiency. The Spartan 
mother sent out her son to war telling him to 
return with his shield or upon it yet Sparta 
did not survive. In later times, when military 
warfare has yielded in part to industrial warfare, 
the men who have had the power to determine 
the form of society or of portions of society have 
instituted industrial regimes in which the sole 
consideration has been the efficiency of tho 



^lul m then''tav. 'when'' notary elh- 
, im( ,, at. ,t was often attam.,1 when 

fficiency is aimed at .t may likewise 

Th;" Material of Empire. But the all 
important truth is that these objects, as such 
. U( ,rth attaining at their price. 

(Heiencv or industrial efficiency, 
, H1| , , he character of the ,peop -, .is 

to achieve a tempera at the rapidly 

- () f permanent failure. The material 
lp i r eor society that IB to. endure is 
MU(M e V . nor red maps, nor mines 
v.eld precim.s metals, nor treasuries mountains 
'high, but worthy men and women. All the 
h OI1 rar ,h. accumulated and possessed 
nthend into the hands of one worthless 
people, will not make an empire that can endure 
x months. The legislator who legislates 
i han character may be counted 
-',fiil in his own day and even on the mor- 
tal t he is not building for all time and 
time will pronounce judgment upon him at the 

The same truth is demonstrable in the case of 

legislation or other social action which, unlike that 

of the military dictator, is determined by senti- 

ments of humanity and compassion. To-morrow 

as well as to-day has to be thought of, and the 

me factor of character remains supreme. 

It would be no more foolish than many acts which 

unwise people call charitable for the State at 

Moment to expropriate all the private wealth 

of the ( -1111111 iv. and to say " We will provide food, 

r. clothing, education, and a fair supply of 

in. -nts for all who please." Thereby many 

hundreds of thousands or millions of people, in 

oiintrv alone, would be very greatly bene- 

l indeed, for a time they and then- children 

too. A vast humanitarian end Avould have 

tor a time. There would be no 

1 children for a time. 

A Passing Good and a Measureless 
Evil. An immediate good of some magnitude 
would ha\ "tnplished ; but if we are to 

i .1 final judgment upon this measure we must 
apply to it 0111 criterion of it-> consequences upon 
majority of men would not 
v had to work \\hich is natural 
': \\>-\r work, unlike that of the 
iiVords them little or no spiritual 
ritercM. Such men would cease 
to work under the measure we have imagined. 
^ that the nation had some 
Me mineral wealth -o that 
i-- a nation, not to work, do 
under the-,,- conditions the State 
MI. un Ma'.le ; ( )n the contrary, the 
immediate uood done would he as naught com- 
pared \\ltll the ll)eaMirele evil which Would 

be worked lev t, h would involve 

oration of eha- 

resulting not only in the rotting away of the fibre 
of manhood. DU< also in the pursuit of p easuie 
by the many, under the conditions and wUh ft 
conseauenceB whi-h are now exhibited m the 
casTo 1 c unemployed idle rich. Such a nation 
would cease to produce, or to be anything of 
worth and the annexation of these islands by 
some Continental power would be a matter of a 
few years at the most. The little good accom- 
plished would be far more than nullified by the 
evil influence of such a measure upon character. 
Character the Sole Basis of the State. 
Anything that destroys the character of the 
individual destroys the State which depends 
for its continued existence upon individual 
character and nothing else. If these propositions 
are true, it follows that the criterion of character- 
making or unmaking must be applied to all 
social acts by any whose concern is not with 
the immediate present alone. Here, again, 
of course, is another fundamental distinction 
between society and. a mere chemical molecule. 
The present is the child of the past and the 
parent of the future, and to reckon with the 
present alone is to court destruction. The 
temptation may come in many guises, selfish 
and unselfish, but the criterion must be applied, 
and no measure which does not satisfy it must 
be allowed to pass uncondemned. 

We have now completed, in so far as may 
be, what might be called the Philosophy of 
Sociology. We have tried to show the relations 
of the life of a society to the life of the individual ; 
we have discussed the foundations of sociology 
and its relations to the lower sciences on the one 
hand, and to the supreme science on the other ; 
and we have tried to distinguish between the atti- 
tude of the sociologist who asks himself merely 
what is and what has been and that of the 
sociologist who, being also a man with human 
emotions and aspirations, asks himself what ought 
to be ; both of these attitudes being necessary, but 
neither being allowed to distort the view taken by 
the other. 

Marriage the Central Institution of 
Society. We must now turn to the detailed 
study of our subject, and must begin with the 
fundamental social institution of marriage. 
\Ye shall find it necessary here to begin our 
inquiry at a very early stage in the history of 
humanity. We must trace the different forms of 
marriage as they have been experimented with 
by man. We must inquire into their conse- 
quences upon society, and must determine, if 
possible and it is not only possible but easy 
which form of sexual relation is that best fitted 
to serve as the central institution of a stable 
and progressive society. This is a subject so 
important that the sociologist finds it impossible 
to suffer fools gladly when they discourse upon 
it. and being peculiarly intricate, difficult, and 
important, it is naturally a subject upon which 
fools think it well to expatiate. 



Manufacture of Roll, Twist, and Cake Tobacco. Snuff. Making and 
Moulding Cigars. Cigarette Machines. Clay, Briar, and Meerschaum Pipes 

Group 23 



ntinued from 
page 4274 

HTHE art of manufacturing smoking tobacco 
consists in selecting the different flavoured 
tobaccos and combining them to suit the various 
purposes for which they are required. As noted 
previously, ageing improves the tobacco, and 
sometimes the leaf is soaked in dilute hydro- 
chloric acid to modify the nature. 

Manufacture of Shag and Bird's= 
eye. After mixing, the leaves are damped, 
or sauced, with water in the United Kingdom, 
but in other countries sauces with flavouring 
ingredients are often used. The water is applied 
as a spray [7] or in the form of steam. When 
uniformly damped, the softened leaves are opened 
out, smoothed, and the midrib removed when 
shag is being made. The retention of the midrib 
gives bird's-eye. The leaves are then lightly pressed 
into a cake to squeeze out moisture, and cut up 
by a machine which works after the principle of a 
chaff cutter. In the modern type of machine, 
such as the Ajax cutter [9], the tobacco is fed 
continuously to the knife, which has an out- 
ward clearance movement 
on its upward stroke that 
prevents it rubbing against 
the tobacco, and thus avoids 
discolouring in the case of a 
bright tobacco. The cut leaf 
is then roasted, or panned, 
to dry and improve the flavour. 
The panning is done either on a 
rotating machine or on heated 
slabs, care being taken hy con- 
stant turning to prevent over- 
scorching. Shag is stronger than 
bird's-eye, as the midrib contains 
a smaller proportion of nicotine 
than the fleshy part. 

The tobacco termed returns, 
consisting of broken pieces of 
leaves and sittings, is similar to shag, but milder, 
although not so mild as bird's-eye. Cut honeydew 
is a strong smoke made from leaves of a light 
colour that have not been fermented to the same 
degree as those used for shag or bird's-eye. 
- Smoking Mixtures. Smoking mixtures 
of numerous virtues are put on the market. 
They are produced by mixing two or more differ- 
ent tobaccos. The following are examples : 

Mild : York River, 4 Ib. ; coarse-cut British 
cavendish, 1 Ib. 

Milder but hotter : Bright returns, 5 Ib. ; 
Turkey, | Ib. ; light cavendish, | Ib. 

Full flavour : Returns, 5 Ib. ; cut cavendish, 
2 Ib. ; Latakia, 1 Ib. 

Strong : Shag, 4 Ib. ; cut dark cavendish, 2 Ib. 

Many mixtures are much more complex than 
those shown in the above examples, but it will 
be noticed that certain tobaccos are used as 
bases and others for flavouring purposes. 


Roll and Twist Tobacco. To make 
roll tobacco the darkest leaves are selected 
and stripped and sauced. They are then 
placed end to end, and twisted or spun into 
ropes of various thicknesses. The interior 
of the rolls consists of the small and broken 
leaves, the outer ones being usually bright leaves. 
The spinning process is effected either by hand, 
or by a spinning machine [10], such as that used 
for making rope. The rope is rolled into cylin- 
ders or balls, which are enclosed in canvas and 
tied round with hemp cords. These masses are 
next stored in moist heat for some hours, and arc- 
then submitted to continuous pressure in hydraulic 
presses [8] for a month or so, when a slow fermen- 
tation takes place, and a good deal of the moisture 
is pressed out. To facilitate the spinning pro- 
cess and prevent the leaves caking together in the 
press, olive oil is used, and it is also allowable 
to add essential oils for flavouring. Irish roll 
is a thick coil, pig-tail a thin coil, and brown 
tobacco is one that has not been 
pressed after spinning. Plug, 
bogie, nailrod, negro-head, 
ladies' roll, and target are fancy 
names of roll tobacco for smok- 
ing or chewing. Twist ranges 
in thickness from the size of a 
bootlace upwards. 
Cake Tobacco. Cake or 
plug tobacco is made in a similar 
way to that described above, the 
cover consisting of fine bright 
leaves. For chewing, the cake is 
often sweetened with liquorice, and 
is known as sweet cavendish. The 
sweetened cavendish is imported or 
made in bond, and can only be 
sold in stamped wrappers. The 
unsweetened cavendish is not sub- 
ject to these restrictions. Honeydew is a light - 
coloured cavendish, and as cut honeydew is a 
strong smoking tobacco. Varinas roll, of Dutch 
manufacture, is not seen often now ; it is a 
very mild cake. The twist and cake form of 
tobacco is much used by the working classes 
in Scotland and Ireland, as, besides being stronger 
than shag or bird's-eye, it is more economical, 
and also adapted for chewing. 

Snuff. Although but little used at the 
present day, snuff-taking was formerly more 
in vogue than smoking. Up to A.D. 1700 snuff 
was used to ward off infectious diseases, but it^ 
popular use as a sternutatory is traced to a large 
cargo captured by Sir George Rooke off Cadiz, 
and sold off in English seaports at 3d. to 4d. a 

Snuff is made chiefly from the stalks and mid- 
ribs of tobacco by a tedious process, during which 
fermentation is induced several times. The 




w material of midrib. .,! l ; ave, is moist- 
wi ,h ;l solution of Mfc and ,uled up into 


I for some six montns. 

,,,' th,. time the Umperature b( 

and th.- heap M "i"''"'' 1 ;tiul 
L M,,und to a liirht brown 
11 . This lewder is mixed 
:i M.lution. top paoefl in 

, ten months, 

when another fermentation occurs, j, 
and the pou (!! develops colour ana \ 
aroma. The >nutl is well mixed. 
metimcs submitted t.. a third ; 
finally the snuff is , 
well sifte<l to make it uniform. - 
will thu* IM> seen that the process I. 

.m 18 to 20 months, i 
ntly much of the nico- 
Rappee. A'" i>P" or / " / ""' ''"/" 

" snuff hi<jhl\ scented, and I 

operator. The making of cigars by Hand can be 

I Iv' ^ravine to render them pliable, the stem 
is removed, and the leaves piled on the top 
of each other. The workman sits at a bench on 
whlh is a maple wood block, under which is a 
drawer for waste, and near him is a rack or box 
to receive the finished cigars. He is 
also provided with a knife for cutting 
purposes, a vessel of tragacanth paste 
for sticking the outer wrappers, and 
a cutter adjustable for various lengths 
three to seven inches with which 
to trim the end of the cigar to the 
proper length. There is a pile of 
wrapper leaf kept damp on one side, a 
olv of filler leaf on the other, and 



, outainmg on an average 40 per cent. 

of mot tu re. The dark colour is 
due to long eontinue.l fermentation 
while in th I 'in. 7ViV'".< nt'u-tnre 
is a rose-scented rapin-.-. whkh 
DM from the fact that 

it was used by George IV. when Prince Regent. 
Scotch < -"//* " i ade from st ^ lks 

that have been previously roasted, which gives 
n>tie smell to these snuffs. Scent 
is added to some varieties, and the moisture 
is generally about 20 per cent. 

Miff is similar to 

itT, but more pungent, 

Hth only about .') per cent. 

I it." Of Uloist lire. 

Cigars Colour no Cri- 
terion. 'Pie dictionary definition 
eompat i roll of 
tobae -mokin^r, 

one en- 1 n in tin- 

mouth. \\hil<- the other is 
,<1 tlie word can l>e 
-|-lt in many different 
ways. A cigar coi i 

re or filler, an 
'I an 

-Imul.l ' the 

.\oiiiv.l t, I 

d in 


HO that th- 

drawn through it from 
It will b,- 

guide to it> (jualit v or 

'stirely on the quality 
of th.- tiller or iii-id'- port inn. 

Making Cigars by Hand. Inth. liand- 
made cigar- workmen require \V.M - of e\p.-ri.-nee 

i turn out \M-ll-m.;di- cigars : l)iit 
and vaiioii- pieces 

' Mflisl t he- 

inner wrapper or binder leaf in 
front. A wrapper leaf is spread on 
the board, and cut into as many 
wrappers as it will make, the waste 
being pushed into the drawer. The 
binder leaf is torn into suitable 
pieces, and of these a large piece is 
laid on the board, and a smaller piece 
is placed on the top of it. The work- 
PRESS FOR man gathers up a handful of filler 
leaf, shapes it according to the kind 
of cigar required, puts it on the 
binder leaf, and rolls it therein. Care is needed 
to effect the packing and rolling easily, or a 
defective smoke will result. The outer wrapper 
is then rolled on spirally, beginning at the thick 
end, the mouth end of the cigar being manipulated 
to a point, and the edge of the wrapper touched 
with paste. The cigar is then trimmed to the 
desired length in the 
cutter machine. 

Auxiliary Ma= 
chinery. To assist 
the workman, suction 
wTapper holders and 
cutters are now em- 
ployed, by which a sav- 
ing of wrapper is ob- 
tained and a smoother 
appearance given to the 
cigar. Originally the 
suction tables were let 
out on hire, but they 
are now obtainable at 
much more advanta- 
geous rates. Some of 
these have a die for 
cutting out the leaf, but 
improved patterns em- 
ploy a circular knife, so 
that the leaf is not torn 
at the edges [12]. 
Bunching machines are 
also employed, in which 

the filler is placed in a shaping cup, and by 
means of a concave roller and revolving 
apron tho filler is quickly prepared in a 
.suitable shape for binding. In another 
variety of bunching machine a pocket is 
formed in the apron, and no shaping cup is 


Moulded Cigars. In moulded cigars 
the bunches of filler are put into wooden moulds, 
some twenty moulds being arranged in each. 
The filled moulds are placed under a press for 
some hours, and are then ready for taking out 
and covering. Naturally it does not require 
such expert workmen to make cigars by the 
mould method, but the results obtained 
are, when using modern moulds, difficult 
to distinguish from hand-made cigars. 
The revolving mould is considered to give 
the best imitation of hand- 
made cigars. The hand-made 
cigar generally contains more 
tobacco than a moulded 
cigar. The moulds are ob- 
tainable in a great variety 
of shapes the Miller, Dubrul, 
& Peters Manufacturing Co., 
of Cincinnati, illus- 
trating in their list 
many hundreds of 
shapes and sizes [13]. 
The nearest approach to 
a machine for making 
cigars is obtained by 

combining bunching 10 - GRIEG s " SIMPLEX SPINNING MACHINE 
machines and moulds. The Reuse machine feeds 
the tobacco to two pairs of jaws, which form 
the core to any desired shape, and subsequently 
put on the binder and wrapper. A small mould 
is employed for shaping and polishing the 
point of the cigar. The Wartmann machine rolls 
the cigars between four rub- 
ber rollers, so shaped that a 
pocket is left between the 
rollers in the shape of a cigar. 

Finishing and Box = 
ing. The cigars as turned 
out by the above processes 
are dried in the sun, or by 
a gentle heat, and sorted out 
according to colours, branded 
if needed with a hot brand, 
packed, and pressed into 
bundles or boxes. Before 
boxing the cigars a little per- 
fume is sprinkled in the box. 
This perfume contains rum, 
lemon, cedar, vanilla, and 
other essential oils, the pro- 
portions of which vary, each 
maker having his own secret 
formulae. The red cedar 
Avood, of which the boxes are 
made, comes from Cuba, 
Mexico, and Central America, 
but the forests are rapidly 
being depleted. 

Cigarettes. The con- 
sumption of cigarettes has 
increased so enormously of 
late years that it is difficult 
to realise that cigarette-smoking is quite a 
modern habit. The fashion Avas set by the 
soldiers Avho returned from the Crimean War, 
Avhere circumstances had necessitated the 
use of tobacco in the form of cigarettes, and 



preference clung to the habit so formed when the 
necessity for it had vanished. 

Cigarette Making. The art of making 
a cigarette is first to prepare a sufficiency of 
tobacco in the form of a rod, and then to enclose 
the rod of tobacco in rice paper, fastening 
the edges of the paper together by pasting 
or twisting. Cigarettes up to recent years 
Avere made mostly by the smoker himself, 
but the invention of automatic machinery has 
transferred the operation to 
large manufacturers. The 
evolution of the cigarette 
machine is a striking instance 
of the perseverance of inven- 
tors and of ultimate success. 
Single Cigarette Ma= 
chines. The simplest type 
of cigarette machine is that 
in which single cigarettes are 
made, this type being divisible 
into two : ( 1 ) Machines in 
AA'hich the tobacco is prepared 
and encased in rice paper ; 
and (2) machines in Avhich 
the plug of tobacco is stuffed 
into a ready-made tube of 
paper. It Avill be noted that the efforts of uwen- 
tors were very modest at first, the manufacture 
of cigarettes following strictly on the lines of the 
hand-made article. As an example of the first 
type of single cigarette machines may be cited 
the Evans Concinnum machine [14], Avhich first 
appeared on the market in 
1877. In this the tobacco for 
one cigarette was arranged 
on a grouping of small, cor- 
rugated rollers driA^en from a 
central wheel. The tobacco 
being neatly arranged, a 
cigarette paper Avas intro- 
duced, the lid closed, and 
then one turn of the handle 
Avrapped the paper neatly 
round the tobacco. The 
makers of this machine claim 
that an expert operator can 
turn out 150 to 250 cigarettes 
per hour. A more ambitious 
machine on a similar princi- 
ple was that of F. J. Luding- 
ton, invented in 1891. 1 
this the tobacco was rolled 
and the edge of the Avrapper 
pasted automatically. The 
next step is shown in the 
Lemaire machine, in Avhich 
the cigarette filler is cut into 
lengths before being rolled 
in paper and the edges of the 
paper pasted, it being claimed 

' - that less Avaste and no loose 

ends result from this method. 
In the Williams machine the tobacco is fed to 
automatic mechanism and predetermined charges 
severed and conveyed to the rolling apron, there 
being mechanism for cutting the Avrappers and 
pasting the edge, air suction being employed to 


the uidth 


top the paper, flat. Giranl. in is'...-,, with a 
new to quickening the process, devised a mov- 
.He part in * 'uould. through uh.rh the 

* wa- by ' l J'' 1 " f ;lir ' '', , 

e ako the edges of the paper are t-.ld.-d. 
010 and I'.rl-t drvi>rda machine tor making 
four dflarettes at a time, the rolling being in imi- 
LkJoTof the fingers by means of oscillating 
hinged levew. In Wood's machine the paper '- 
fed to the m.i.-hme t- 
which is equal to the length 


,nd Walk. 

vention is an attempt to pre- 
pare the tobacco m 
carefully before cutting it 
roper lengths and 
feeding it to the rolling 
; ii'!' 

Plunger Type Ma- 
chine*. The i 
Mmnot machine, invented 
;. may be taken a> 
an early example of the 
plunger <vp<- maehine. 
The tobacco is brought 
fp.iii a receiver 
,, endless bands 

luniiiii- -' ditlercnt speeds to equalise the 
the layer. The tobacco thus 
, arri.-d torv, laterally into a mould, 

. .tt. iiu of which n-'> to detach and 
tin- quantity to form a cigarette. A 
form a mouthpiece is twisted 
into form within the mould and is carried 
U w ith the tobacco when the mould closes. 
M thru advances and pushes the contents 
of the mould out endwise through a tube or 
.m which a paper wrapper has previously 
been arranged. Nippers hold the wrapper upon 
.fid ;it the proper time allow it to 
pass forward, so that it may receive the tobacco 
within it and also the mouthpiece in its proper 
position as these are thrust out of the mould by 
the pi-t nd of the cigarette is received 

by scissor-like cutters which remove the super- 
fluous tobacco. The wrapp,-r> to be tilled art) 
taken from a magazine by a ske \\.T- I ike instru- 
ment, which passes through a wrapper, removes 
it endwise from the mag- 
azine, and carries it to a 
heath; then a s 

',, ] , A, , ,, ,.| , 

i n.j.. : .-:: . :i Ks,-, .nd 

transfers it to the sheath. 

TV .11111- that 

this mat-Inn.- will make 
150)00 cigarettes a day. 

a improved in i.-p,.,-t 

'lie mechanism by which the proper quantity 

bacco is detached from t h. i com- 

ptWWOll & .'Irs machine of 

1886 makes paper tuU-s with interlocking edges 

anna-ted. These tul*. rt th. n placed on the, 

end of a funnel and U .ntained in 

inetnushed into the tube i, v meaiM of a 

P* un Rr of this type: 

d in an apron, and the charge 


)U .hed bv a reciprocating plunger into finished 
tuts. The Ollagrner machine require, 
I 1(1 work to judge of the quantity of tobacco for 
Soh ma-hine. the charges being then rolled ai 
intl , )(lll eed into paper tubes. Grouvelle and 
Belot also adapted the plunger device tor a 
machine making two cigarettes at a time, 
fee plunger typl also belong the Jasmatzi, Berg- 
straiser and Pederson machines. The kew 
T nmsporter machine is one which is largely used 
^tobacconists in England. A paper tube is 
slipped over a projecting funnel and held there 
until filled with tobacco, and by means 
of interchangeable parts the cigarettes 
may be made circular or flat 
and of different degrees of thick- 

It is an interesting problem 
whether this type of machine will 
outlast other kinds referred 
inw to in this lesson. It is cer- 
tainly at the present one 
of the most popular types. 
Paper tubes for cigar- 
ettes are made in contin- 
uous lengths, the Bruandet 
machine being capable oi 
making daily a length of 
tube corresponding to half a million cigarette 
tubes. Separate machines cut up the tubes, and 
in some factories a special machine is used for 
opening up the flattened tube before filling it 
with tobacco. 

All = tobacco and Folded = end 
Cigarettes. All-tobacco cigarettes, in which 
the outer wrapper is cut from cigar leaf, are 
necessarily made on single cigarette machines, 
apparatus being provided for cutting out the 
wrappers. It is necessary to exercise care in 
cutting up a leaf of tobacco to avoid the heavy 
veins and midrib. A difficulty is often experi- 
enced in fastening the wrapper properly. A 
tragacanth paste is the best adhesive to use. 
The Hayden cigarette machine is one which folds 
in the end of the cigarette after the manner of 
Spanish, Cuban, or Mexican cigarettes. No paste 
is used on the paper wrapper, a twisting motion 
sufficing to hold the wrapper securely. This is 
done!* to enable the user to readily open the 
cigarette, as it is custo- 
mary for users of this 
form of cigarette to roll 
the tobacco by hand 
before smoking. 

Conical and Oval 
Cigarettes. The shape 
of cigarettes is not al- 
ways round. One of the 
Bonsack machines is devised for conical cigar- 
ettes, users of this shape of cigarette contend- 
ing that there is less waste of tobacco in the end 
thrown away. The oval, flat, or elliptical cigar- 
ette is growing in favour, the shape being better 
adapted for holding between the lips. The seam 
of the paper wrapper is generally on the flat 
side, but it is suggested that an improvement 
would be to make the seam on one of the narrow 
The tobacco as prepared for the machine 

is of a round section, and must be separately 
moulded to the required elliptical shape. One 
of the Elliott machines has been adapted to this 
purpose, and one of the well-known Baron 
machines moulds the tobacco rod to an elliptical 
shape before wrapping. In the Braunstein and 
Chambon machine the tobacco is introduced 
into the paper tube by a spiral or screw arrange- 
ment and the finished cigarette pressed into 
oval form. Such cigarettes have, 
however, a tendency to return 
to their original shape. 

Mouthpieces. To 
prevent cigarettes ad- 
hering to the lips they 
are provided with 
mouthpieces. These 
may be made by bronz- 
ing or waxing the end 
of the paper or by at- 
taching a separable 
mouthpiece. Mouth- 
pieces of stouter paper 
than that used for 
wrappers are dipped or 
brushed with melted 
paraffin wax, which gives them a translucent 
appearance and is quite effectual in preventing 
the cigarette sticking to the lips. Special 
machines are used for making and attaching 
mouthpieces, one kind also removing a little 
of the tobacco from the end of the cigarette 
and inserting a small plug of cotton -wool. 

Continuous Cigarette Machines. 
The machines in which a long row of tobacco 
is encased in paper the operation proceeding 



brought to the middle of the belt by converging 
guard-plates, and then pressed sideways between 
two pressers moving towards each other. The 
tobacco then passes between converging spring 
guides to a series of pairs of grooved shaping- 
wheels on vertical shafts, by which it is pressed 
into an endless rope. Running along the upper 
surface of these wheels is a horizontal endless 
belt. Scrapers of 
special form and 
arrangement are 
provided to remove 
any matter adhering to 
the shaping wheels. 
The lobacco then 
passes on to the endless 
strip of cigarette paper, 
and the two pass 
through the forming 
apparatus, by which the 
paper is gradually bent 
up and folded round 
the tobacco and finally 
pasted and pressed. 
The adhesive is applied 
to the pasting disc by 
means of an endless thread running through 
the paste reservoir. After the endless cigar- 
ette is formed, it passes to a cutting apparatus, 
consisting mainly of a rapidly rotating disc- 
cutter carried at the end of a revolving arm. 
In 1893 was introduced the Sloan & Barnes 
machine, in which the ribbon of paper is fed 
round the rope of tobacco in a spiral manner. 
The inventors likewise improved the manner of 
preparing the filler. The Maxfield machine also 


indefinitely and then cut up into cigarettes mark 
a distinct advance [15]. The Elliott machine, 
invented in 1890, started with the loose tobacco, 
which was spread in a layer, parted into windrows 
of uniform width and quantity, and pressed into 
continuous compact ropes or rods of tobacco. 
The wrapper was then applied and pasted 
suitably. In the Bohl machine of 1893 the 
tobacco is fed forward upon an endless carrier 
belt moving upon a horizontal table, and is 

applies the paper spirally. The next step in the 
evolution is the abandoning of the use of paste 
for sticking the edges of the paper horizontally 
applied. Paste impares the flavour of the 
cigarette, and Munson's machine provided an 
interlocking device for the edges of the paper, 
the seam being afterwards crimped to make it 
hold. The Allagnon method of closing the edges 
is by two pressures on the seam, one being by 
means of a toothed disc. Kirshner also claims 



an indenting or crimping de\ i,-e tor holding the 
edge* to. Uptable to the Bonsack 

Obviating Frayed Ends. Of the many 

aj fi-om the 

ties may he mentioned Lumley & 
In this the arrangement for 

i uttmu up the continuous rod is so devised that 

. ars the tobacco away from the space about 

to be cut. < me of the greatest difficulties that 

have had to be overcome in this type of machine 

the apparatus for carding or combing the 

tobacco to it before forming it into rope. 

If the supplv of tobacco be unequal, it gives a 

rope of unequal density, \\hidi shows itself in 

difficult to draw.- The 

Bonaack machine is one in \\hich the mechanism 

in this respect lias reached a high pitch, one of 

these machines beinir adapted equally for long 

-traitfht cut tobacco or granular tobacco. 


rials of which tobacco pipes are made 
are of various kinds clay, wood, meerschaum, 
asbestos, and metal. Baked clay is probably 
the oldest material of which pipes have been 
i. and the manufacture of clay pipes 
re ssill be considered first. 
Clay Pipes. The clay from which pipes are 
ina-le is a soft clay nearly free from iron, lime, 
and magnesia, so that 'it is colourless when 
baked, and fcoty. Broeeley in Stafford- 

Cm I..,;, in I >orsetshire, and 'Glasgow are 
centre* of clay-pipe manufacturing. There are 
two " s*es employed in the making of 

: 'testing and moulding. Pressing 
"-' the Continent, and is rapidly 

jyaU' results are very unsatisfactory. 

'Hiding, the clay is first of all weathered and 
atured till on the addition of water it can be 
kneaded into a smooth, homogeneous mass, 
hciently Tenacious to hold together readily. 
A m " "' " r brass is prepared which 

nttflMfe half of the day pipe cut longitu- 
dinally down the .,, a bra88 bfcok occupying 

the place of ,},, insulrnfthr bowl. ('lav is']., Jd 

b mould and pressed, the block being 
1. so Uiat the result is an exact half of a 

tuo or .,. .,.!, moulds b e 
in actual manufacture each mould 


: .i!',','!' 1 

which are solid, are 

pipe is formed. a wire 



tnmi oir the 

ioqt t) | ,, , 

ng. | !; . : 

ilar to the 

;'".< w i- baked, and - 

I according 
i- allou.-d to d 



'he kind O f 
"lit. and \\hen 

t lie oven. 


Shiny clays are treated, before baking, with a 
lead glaze, such as is employed in glazing pottery, 
but some clays receive a natural glaze from the 
mould which is retained even after firing. 

The mouth end of the pipe is tipped with 
sealing-wax dissolved in methylated' spirit. 
The moulds for pipes are of various patterns. 
In the list published by McDougall & Co., of 
Glasgow, over 400 different kinds are quoted 
and figured. Pipe-making machines are also 
employed, one of the best being that invented by 
Mr. Young, of the firm of Davidson & Co., of 

Briar Pipes. Wooden pipes are made of 
various hard woods, the chief being briar or 
bruyere root. This wood is used on account of 
its incombustibility. Briar wood has no con- 
nection with rose briers, but is the root of Erica 
arborea, a species of heath, which is grown in 
France, Italy, and Corsica. Centres of the briar 
pipe industry are St. Claude, Jura (France), and 
Nuremberg. The pipes are finished and fitted 
in London, but much briar wood is now obtained 
in Scotland and made into pipes in England. 
The roots are shaped roughly into the form of 
pipes, and then simmered for twelve hours in a 
vat, which has the effect of imparting the much 
admired yellowish- brown tint. A good pipe 
needs to be free from flaws, and as only about 
10 per cent, of the pipes made fulfil this condi- 
tion, it is not difficult to understand why a good 
briar pipe is expensive. The flaws in second 
quality pipes are stopped up with a composition, 
but the difference is apparent after the pipes 
have been smoked a few times. The rough 
blocks are converted into pipes by a process of 
turning and grinding. 

The other woods used for pipes are the Mahaleh 
cherry, which grows near Vienna, the mock 
orange of Hungary, the jessamine sticks of 
Turkey, Australian myal wood, and ebony. 

The Hookah of the East. Mention 
may here be made of the hookah or water pipe 
preferred in Oriental countries. This smoking 
apparatus consists of three parts : (1) The head 
or bowl; (2) the water bottle or base; and (3) the 
flexible tube and mouthpiece. The smoke passes 
through water, and hence is quite cool by the 
time it reaches the mouth. 

Meerschaum Pipes. Meerschaum is a 
nydrated magnesium silicate which, from its 
appearance and lightness, has become known 
as sea-froth." It is found in Asia Minor 
(the plains of Eski-shehr), at Negroponte and 
Namos (Greece), and in California and Spain 
I he meerschaum is made into pipes at Vienna 
and Ruhla in Thuringia, whither it is imported 
m the rough state. The irregular blocks of 
meerschaum are scraped to free them from 
iieir red covering, dried, and polished with 
ix. ihe pipe- bowls are also soaked in melted 
arme, wax, or spermaceti after they have 
been turned and carved. The reputation of 
meerschaum has declined of late years, but some 
smokers are still proud of the colour they have 
'Warned on a well-smoked meerschaum pipe. 

Group 29 



The Three Divisions of the Railway Staff. Conditions of 


Entrance. Pension, Provident, and Insurance Societies' Funds 

continued from 

page 4231 

By H. G. 

"THE number of persons employed by railway 
companies in the United Kingdom is 
known accurately for certain years only. The 
last official return is still that for 1901 : 


Stationmasters . . 8,103 
Brakesmen and goods 

guards . . . . 15,708 

Permanent way men 66,621 

Gatekeepers . . . . 3,507 

Engine drivers . . 25,556 

Porters 55,276 

Shunters . . . . 10,841 

Firemen 24,083 

Inspectors . . . . 6,772 

Passenger guards . . 
Signalmen and 

Pointsmen.. .. 28,496 
Labourers . . . . 53,282 
Ticket collectors and 

examiners . . . . 3,642 
Mechanics . . . . 81,440 
Other classes .. .. 185,216 


. . . . 575,834 

The Three Divisions of the RaiU 
way Staff. The staff of a railway is divided 
as follows : 

1. Salaried officers and clerks, commonly called 
the clerical staff. 

2. The " weekly wages " staff, sometimes 
referred to as the " uniformed " staff, although 
many of its members do not wear uniform. 

3. The " daily wages " staff. 

A hard-and-fast line is drawn between classes 
1 and 2. If a man elect to join the " weekly 
wages " staff, he is seldom allowed to transfer his 
services to the clerical staff, although, of course, 
he may be promoted from the latter to the 
former. At certain points the two classes over- 
lap. For instance, a first-class stationmaster 
is a salaried official, whereas a second-class 
stationmaster is in receipt of a weekly wage. 
If a man joins the clerical staff he is not supposed 
to exchange into the " weekly wages " staff ; he 
may do so, but such exchanges are not encouraged 
by the authorities. The two classes do not mix. 

Persons are admitted to classes 1 and 2 as 
juniors from 14 to 16 years of age, and as adults 
from 18 to 30, and in certain cases to 35 years of 

The Clerical Staff. The clerical staff 
is open to all. No form of nomination is 
required ; but some companies make it a rule 
to reserve a quota of vacancies for sons and 
near relatives of past and present officials. 
Again, where the latter practice does not exist, 
it is only natural that a claim of the above 
kind should cany influence. 

Junior candidates for railway clerkships must 
produce good references, together with a medical 
certificate of sound health, and undergo an 
entrance examination (which is often competi- 
tive) in writing, spelling, geography of lines of 
communication, arithmetic, bookkeeping, short- 
hand, et<\ As to what department a successful 
candidate is posted depends upon the nature of 
the vacancies at the time. A small station is the 
best place for a lad-clerk, as there he will learn 
parcels, goods, and passenger service work, 
together with telegraphy, etc. ; in short, pick up 
a bit of knowledge about everything. The young 
railway clerk may, however, find himself posted 


to any one of the departmental offices namely, 
that of the general manager, goods manager, 
superintendent of the line, or secretary, etc. 

Examinations. When 18 or 19 years of 
age, he is called upon to pass the senior clerks' 
examination, and also a stiff medical examination 
by the company's doctor, the latter in order to 
qualify for admittance to the company's super- 
annuation fund, membership of which is obliga- 
tory upon every salaried servant. 

Adult candidates for railway clerkships have 
to pass the senior clerks' examination, and also 
the above medical examination, unless they be 
above a certain age the usual limit being 28 
in which case they are disqualified from enjoying 
the benefits of the superannuation fund. 

"Weekly Wages" Staff. Lads are 
appointed to the " weekly wages " staff, pro- 
vided that they have good characters and 
sound health, as vacancies occur. No formal 
educational examination is demanded of them. 
As a rule, a divisional inspector examines 
the lads in order to see that they are fairly 
intelligent and able to read and write. The 
majority of youths join the traffic department as 
lad porters, telegraph boys, van boys, and other 
similar appointments, while those who enter the 
locomotive department begin as bar boys or 
cleaners. On arriving at the age of 18 every 
member of the " weekly wages " staff has 
to undergo a searching medical examination, 
together with a test for colour-blindness, which 
is a fatal defect in a railway servant. Upon a 
successful issue depends his continuance in the 
company's service and admittance to the provi- 
dent society, membership of which is compulsory. 
A large number of railway servants, however, join 
the "weekly wages " staff as adults, between the 
ages of 18 and 30, and they, too, have to possess 
a fair education, sound health, and freedom 
from colour-blindness. 

Mechanics. In the Board of Trade 
return for railway employees "' mechanics " 
constitute the largest class separately enumer- 
ated. The reason of there being so many 
mechanics employed is that most British railway 
companies build and repair their own locomotives 
and rolling stock, while a number also manufac- 
ture their own signalling apparatus, and one, at 
least the London and North-Western rolls its 
own rails, and undertakes nearly all the steel 
and iron work for its bridges, warehouses, etc. 
Therefore, our railway companies are manufac- 
turers in a large way of business. A large 
proportion of the mechanics employed in the 
erecting shops are paid pro rata a daily wage. 

The " daily wages " staff also comprises a 
number of " supernumeraries." For example, at 
Christmas time, additional hands have to be 



engaged as passenger porter-. Further, railway 
- give limited employment to females. 
Till ijuitr recently, female' employees were 
h posts as laundry- maids, ladio' 
cloak room attendant-, and barmaids in refresh- 
ment rooms. Houcver. female clerks are now 
empli.yi-d l.y the principal railway companies 
in the chief p<ds oflices. and the employment 
of women in this branch will be augmented in 
the future. The Great Western Railway employs 
female attendants on a few of its long-distance 
-es. The duties of these "train 
: e t he care of t he toilet-rooms, the charge 
iildivn while their parents or guardians are at 
meals in the restaurant cars, and the chaperonage 
Hint: without an escort. The 
i railways have some female booking clerks. 
It may IK- noted that the Continental railways 
irther than the British where female labour 
ned, employing women as gatekeepers 
at level crossings, and placing them in charge of 
signal cabins on main lines even. On its present 
comparatively small scale in the goods and traffic 
departments, female labour is mainly recruited 
by M-leetion from among the daughters of the 

i panics' " weekly wages" staffs. 
Premium Apprentices. Most com- 
ics take "gentlemen," "cadet," or "superior 
apprentices" into their locomotive and engineer- 
ing departments, and one or two also admit 
a few snch premium apprentices to the clerical 
staff. The age at which " superior apprentices " 
are accepted is generally about 17 years. 
There is no formal examination save for sound 
th and eyesight, but candidates are ex- 
"> have what is known as "a good 
public sehonl education. " The premium payable 
nth th.- dirterent companies from 50 
tnd is partly returned in wages after a 
tionary period has been served, the remain- 
f the money being devoted to the mechanics' 
schools, etc., organised by 
tor the benefit of their employees 
>""">. apprenn.vs go through the mill in the 
<""<>nve uorks. earriage shops, running sheds, 
rawing offices, etc., just like the sons of working 
U ho are apprenticed to a railway 
>mpany u.thout joying any premium. As a 
' (1 ""'"<" promise of future employment 
the apprentice ,\ }M have completed his 
made. Therearesofew higher posts in 
he railway seme, that t he companies are flooded 
fully.tramed p-m !,.,,. apprentices, who 



The manual contains a compendium of the rules 
laid down for signalling, control and working 
of stations, working of trains and permanent 
way and works. " Every servant will be held 
responsible for a knowledge of, and compliance 
with, the whole of its contents." 

Varieties of Occupation. The railway 
service embraces several hundreds of distinct 
occupations and grades of particular occupations. 
The following table sets forth the principal 
callings of railway servants as distinct from the 
salaried staff. The department under which 
each occupation falls is indicated in brackets. 
Labourers, miscellaneous 
Lampmen (traffic) 
Letter sorters (traffic) 

Artisans (engineer's) 
Ballast packers (engineer's) 
Har boys (loco.) 
Boiler smiths (loco.) 
Boiler washers (loco.,) 
Book carriers (goods) 
Brakesmen (goods) 
Callers-off (goods) 
Canvassers (goods) 
( anvassers, passenger 


G'apstanmen (goods) 
Carriage cleaners (carriage 

and waggon) 
Carriage examiners (carriage 

and waggon) 
Checkers (goods) 
Clerks, booking (traffic) 
Clerks, goods (goods) 
Clerks, parcels (traffic) 
Clerks, lost property (traffic) 

Loaders (goods) 
Number takers (goods) 
Omnibus drivers (horse) 
Platelayers (engineer's) 
Porters, platform (traffic) 
Porters, luggage (traffic) 
Porters, goods, indoors 


Porters (parcels post traffic) 
Porters, signal (traffic-signal 


Point cleaners (engineer's) 
Policemen (traffic) 
i Rail motor-car drivers (loco.) 
; Kail motor-car firemen (loco.) 
Rail motor-car conductors 

Road motor-car drivers (loco. 

;"""> '"Dupiujjcii.j iLiuimy ., ^ t umcio viuuu. 

C erks, telegraph (engineer's) | or special automobile dept.) 
Clerks, female (goods) I Road motor-car conductors 

Conductors (traffic) ; (traffic) 

and refreshment) *''" Sig L fitt l rs (Baffle-signal 

Electricians (electrical 

Signal linemen (traffic-signal 

Engine-drivers (loco.) 
Engine-coalers (loco.) 

Sleeping-car attendants 

it raflR/>\ 

Engine-cleaners (loco.) 
Firemen (loco.) 
Fire-droppers (loco.) 
Fire-lighters (loco.) 
Fitters (loco.) 

Stationmasters (traffic) 
Smiths, miscellaneous (en- 
gineer's, works manager's, 
chief mechanical engi- 

Foremen, platform (traffic) 
Foremen, parcels (traffic) 
Foremen, permanent wav 

Surfacemen (engineer's) 
Telegraphists (traffic) 


Telegraph messengers, 

Foremen, shed (loco.) 

juniors (traffic) 

Foremen, shunter (traffic) 

Telegraph linesmen (elec- 

Gangers ^engineer's) 

trical engineer or signal 

Gatekeepers (traffic) 
Goods agents 

Ticket collectors (traffic) 

Guards, passenger (traffic) 
Guards, goods (traffic) 

Ticket inspectors (traffic) 
Truck markers (goods) 

Guards, relief (traffic) 

Tube cleaners (loco.) 

Guards, porter (traffic) 
Guards, pilot (traffic) 

Van boys (traffic) 
Van drivers (traffic) 

Greasers (carriage and 

Van mechanics (carriage and 



Horsekeepers (horse) 

Van washers (horse) 

Horse stablers (horse) 
Inspectors, district (traffic) 
Inspectors, district 

Waggon examiners (carriage 
and waggon) 
Waiting-room attendants 



Inspectors, platform (traffic) 
Inspectors, yard (goods) 
Kitchen porters, dining-car 
(hotels and refreshment) 

Watchmen (traffic) 
Wheel tappers (loco, carriage 
and waggon) 
Yardmen (goods) 

Some particulars as to wages are included in 
the following articles of the series, which deal 
with the work of the different departments. 
The companies also provide the uniforms for all 
members of the uniformed staff, and also certain 
Jcles of the working clothes worn by other ser- 
vants. For instance, enginemen are supplied with 
t-coats and labourers with greatcoats Then 

lodging allowances are given and travelling ex- 
penses defrayed when men are away from home. 

Advantages and Drawbacks of the 
Service. The advantages and disadvantages 
of the railway service may be enumerated. 

First is permanency of employment and 
security of pay. Once on the regular staff a 
man may rely upon continuing in the company's 
service till incapacitated by age, provided that 
his habits are steady and diligent. The railway 
service is on a par with the Post Office and other 
Government spheres of employment in that its 
employees have nothing to fear from fluctuation 
of trade. The only exception is the case of the 
mechanics employed at railway works, who are 
liable to be placed on short time, but not dis- 
charged in time of slackness. 

Secondly, there are the liberal superannuation, 
.pension, provident funds, etc., backed up by well- 
organised benevolent societies and saving banks. 

Thirdly, the man has a fair field and no 
favour in respect to promotion. Sir George 
Findlay did not exaggerate when he wrote : 
" The humblest railway servant, if he does not, 
like one of Napoleon's corporals, carry a marshal's 
baton in his knapsack, may at least contemplate 
a field of possible promotion of almost as wide a 
scope." It would surprise the public to hear 
of the humble beginnings of many of the fore- 
most railway men of the day. 

First among the disadvantages are the long 
hours, and secondly, where the salaried staff 
are concerned, the emolument cannot be de- 
scribed as princely. The higher posts carry 
with them good incomes, but the number of 
such posts is proportionately very small, work- 
ing out to about only one-tenth per cent, 
of the total number of all' grades employed. 
Thirdly, hard and unremitting application to 
work is demanded of all railway men. There is 
a fourth disadvantage, which concerns only the 
operating staff that is, enginemen, shunters, 
guards, etc., whose duties must be placed in 
the category of dangerous employments. 

Superannuation. Superannuation fund 
associations are for the benefit only of the 
salaried officers, and membership is obligatory 
as a condition of service for all who join under 
28 years of age. Their object is to provide 
each contributing member with a superannua- 
tion allowance on his retirement from the 
service between 60 and 65 years of age, or at 
any earlier period should his health perma- 
nently fail, provided that he has been at the 
time of his retirement a paying member for ten 
years, while there is also a payment to a 
member's next -of -kin in the event of his death 
before superannuation. 

Each of the larger companies has its own 
superannuation fund, managed by its own officers, 
while the Railway Clearing House has or, 
rather, had a Superannuation Fund Corporation 
for all less important companies who chose to 
join it. In 1905, unfortunately, on a valuation 
the latter fund was found to be not what is called 
" actuarially sound," and the scale of benefits had 
to undergo drastic revision. The Great Central 


Company, however, withdrew and founded one of 
their own. They did it on terms amicably arranged, 
and some of the other companies affected are 
now seeking powers to follow their example. 

The members' contributions amount, as a rule, 
to 2f per cent, per annum of their salaries, being 
deducted monthly from their pay, and the 
company contributes in equal proportion. If a 
member elect to retire from the service of a 
company before superannuation, or if his services 
be dispensed with by the company from any 
caitf e other than fraud or dishonesty, he receives 
back the whole of his own contributions. If 
he be dismissed for fraud or dishonesty, he is 
liable to forfeit the whole of his contributions. If 
he die before superannuation, his representatives 
receive the equivalent of half a year's average 
salary, calculated over the whole term of his 
contributions, or the sum of his own contribu- 
tions and those of the company in his behalf, 
whichever be the greater. 

Provident Societies. The " wages " 
staff, both weekly and daily, have the benefits 
of insurance, provident, and pension societies. 
The object of the insurance society is to provide 
an allowance for the first two weeks of dis- 
ablement arising from accident incurred while 
in the discharge of duty, and a supplemental 
allowance to that provided by the Workmen's 
Compensation Act, 1897, in cases of disablement 
extending beyond two weeks, and an allowance 
in cases of death or permanent disablement 
arising from accident in the discharge of duty, 
in those cases in which the company are not 
liable under the above Act, or are only liable 
up to a sum of 10 ; also an allowance in cases 
of death arising from other causes than accident 
on duty. Membership of the insurance society 
is voluntary, the men contributing from Id. to 
3d. per week, according to class. 

The provident and pension societies are 
usually merged together, and membership of 
both is obligatory. 

The provident society insures a weekly 
allowance in cases of temporary disablement 
for work arising from other causes than accident 
on duty ; a retiring gratuity for old or disabled 
members in certain cases, with the same restric- 
tion as before ; a death allowance to the repre- 
sentatives of deceased members, provided that 
death was not incurred through an accident 
on duty ; and an allowance towards the funeral 
expenses on the death of a member's wife. 

The pension fund awards pensions to old or 
disabled members aged between sixty and 
sixty-five, subject to their having been members 
for a period of twenty years ; while when he 
has arrived at sixty-five any member can claim 
his pension irrespective of the state of his health. 

The weekly premiums to the joint societies 
begin at 2d. for third-class members under 18 
years of age, or receiving less than 12s. per 
week in wages, and rise to Is. 2d. in the case of 
members who join the first-class from forty to 
forty- four years of age. 

Some companies have distinct benefit societies 
for the locomotive staff. 



Group 10 





tuition in 


Polytechnic. The length of time without pay i 

,,, of' tli.- 

is to make acquaint- 

ance with the Morse code [1] and the time code 
1 21 and for this purpose he is provided with cards 


all classes 

"f "in ' lld of work 

M arc found in every 
telegraph station. 

Mthough the art of signal- 

ling messages was known 

U-fon- the invention of tl"' 

graph in 1837, the 

,. M orm..u> development whieh 

ed that epoch-making 

Bd the provi- 

,f large numbers of 

..nd opened a new 

career to many thousands of 

iM.ih MOM. 1" parsing, we 

may mention that there are 

limn- " (- es of *-'" 

taining to posi- 

of world- wide fame, 

rthy e\ample> 

,1 inventor. 
and Carnegie, the millionaire 

Entering the Service. 

The aspirant mu>t lirst enter 
for one of the open Competi- 

K\amination> for Tele- 
graph Learner-. Full infor- 
mation is givrn in the Civil 
2S07 , 
and we shall assume that his 

to th.- Chril 

aminers has had a sati^fai - 
lory result, ami that he ha 

the inspection of the 


o u 

p V - 

a W 

T - 


6 N 


j 4 7 O 1 

2 5 a 

3 6 9 











FULL srof>(.) 


ADDRESS AhD TH TXT gf BTWfN (__..._ 

3fNDR . IF ANY) 



HYPHEN (-)-.-- 



be \\ill 
remain untr -nth 

\|KTtnes to deal \sith public messages. 

-A ill praetisc eight 
'luire from lo to 

20 weeks to reach tin- n-ijuired standard. In 
most cases the l.-arner will, on entering the 
* for t!ie tir-t tiiin- a telegraph in- 
strument, hut many energeti.- youths \\hile 


RUB ou T*-*-***** &o o/v ^ - 

WAIT ___._ 


th.-ir "Civil S,-i vi. 'Kxaminat ion 

giving the necessary 

It will be seen that the 
letters of the alphabet are 
formed by combinations of 
dots and dashes, varying in 
number from one to four, 
while the figures in each case 
have five. In determining 
the proportionate length of 
the various signals and spaces, 
the fundamental unit is the 
dot. A dash is equal in dura- 
tion to three dots. The space 
between the elements of a 
letter is equal in length to 
one dot. The space separ- 
ating the letters of a word is 
equal to three dots, while 
the space between Avords is 
equal to six dots. 

The time code is used prin- 
cipally to indicate the time 
at which a telegram was 
handed in. Each figure on 
the clock has an assigned 
letter, so that A stands for 
1 o'clock, C for 3 o'clock, AC 
for 1.15, CA for 3.5, and so 
on. For the four minutes 
which intervene between 
every two five -minute points, 
the letters r, s, w, and x are 
used, so that CAr means 3.6, 
and ACw means 1.18. 

The Sounder Instru= 
ment. After studying this 
card the learner will take his 
place at a sounder set [5], 
consisting of a single-current 
key and a sounder. They are 
short-circuited that is, ar- 
ranged so that the key control^ the sounder. 
There he will spend many hours practising the 
formation of the letters, and familiarising his 
ear with the sounder. 

Much care and patience are necessary, for a 
bad style once formed cannot easily be improved. 
C is usually found to be the most difficult 
letter, while H and V also require special 

7 -- 


attention. When he has made some progress the 
learner is allowed access to the inkwriter [3]. 
Here, in addition to hearing the sounds, he has 
a printed record of his efforts, and is able to 
see from the inked slip which letters require 
most attention with a view to improvement. 

Before introducing any other instrument, 
it will be well to explain the adjustments of those 
already mentioned. Further details of the 
theory and construction of all the apparatus 
will be found in Telegraph Engineering. The 
telegraphist is concerned only with 
the working adjustments. 

Adjusting the Key. The 
single -current key is made up of a 
brass lever which is mounted on an 
axle so that it oscillates between 
two contact points. At the front 
upper side of the lever there is a 
horn or ebonite knob which is 
shaped so as to be conveniently 
held by the thumb and first two 
fingers of the right hand. The 
brass bridge and contact points are 
fixed on a suitable wooden base. 
Normally the lever is held in connection with 
the rear contact point by the tension of the 
spiral spring. 

There are only two adjustments, one to 
determine the amplitude of the oscillation 
commonly called the play of the lever and the 
second to regulate the tension of the spiral spring. 
The former adjustment is made by means of the 
long screw which passes through the rear end 
of the brass lever. The screw has a cylindrical 
head containing small holes, so that it can be 
turned by a capstan spike, a little tool better 
known to the telegraphist as a tommy. It will 
be observed, however, that the end of the brass 
lever is split, and on one side of the lever there 
is a blue metal screw which is screwed up so as 
to tighten up the split portion, and 
prevent the adjustable con- 
tact screw from moving 
The blue screw must first be 
opened ; the contact screw 
can then be altered to any 
desired position, and the blue 
screw again tightened up 
The usual amplitude is 
about ij^nd of an inch. 
The adjustment of the 
tension is made by raising 
or lowering the screw 
nearest the axle. For 
this purpose a screwdriver 
is necessary. Oil is never 




screw to a bent lever of brass, the latter being 
provided with axle pins, and mounted in a brass 

The bottom end of the armature lever is 
attached to a spiral spring. The other end of this 
spring is connected to the milled adjusting screw 
which can be seen in front of the cores, and 
normally the spring tends to hold the armature 
away from the electromagnet. 

The upper end of the armature lever carries 
an adjustable stop which passes through it, and 
strikes against the angular bridge 
piece, when the armature is at- 
tracted. The uppermost adjusting 
screw forms the banking stop for 
the lever in its normal or upper 
position. Both of these adjusting 
stops, and the two axle screws are 
provided with check nuts. In ad- 
justing a sounder it is first necessary 
to see that the lever is properly 
centred, and the axle screws neither 
too tight nor too loose. The lower 
adjusting stop should then be fixed 
so that the distance' between the 
armature, when depressed, and the iron cores is 
about ^oth f an mcn - It must be specially 
noted that if the armature be allowed to touch 
the cores it will not work properly. The upper 
stop should next be adjusted, and, finally, the 
tension of the spiral spring. 

Adjusting the Inkwriter* The ink- 
writer [3], now but little used in comparison 
with the large number of sounders, was, in this 
country, the predecessor of that instrument. 
It is practically the same instrument, but with 
the armature lever lengthened to carry an ink- 
wheel rotating in an ink-well and arranged 
so that when the armature is attracted the 
wheel makes a record on a paper tape which is 
drawn over a roller by clockwork. The 
gradual discovery by expert operators, 
that they could interpret the sounds 
made by the armature, led to the 
introduction of the much simpler 
and cheaper sounder instrument. 
The adjustment of the ink- 
writer, however, differs consider- 
ably in detail from that of the 
sounder. The end in view 
is the same in each case, 
but whereas with the 
sounder we begin from 
the fixed electromagnet 
and bring the other parts 
into proper relation, in 
the case of the ink- 

necessary, and it should be remembered that oil 
is an insulator, and that its presence on electrical 
apparatus usually leads to trouble. 

Adjusting the Sounder. We turn now 
to the sounder. It is a little more complicated 
than the key. It consists of an electromagnet 
and a movable armature. The electromagnet 
two bobbins of insulated wire, having iron cores 
connected at the low r er end by a yoke piece of 
iron is fixed to the brass base. The armature 
a piece of blue annealed soft iron is fixed by a 

writer we have to begin with the ink-wheel, 
which must first be properly arranged for marking 
the paper when the armature is attracted. This 
is achieved by regulating the bottom banking stop 
of the armature lever. The upper stop limiting 
the play next receives attention, and finally the 
electromagnet is brought up to the proper 
distance from the armature by turning the 
adjusting screw near the base of the electro- 
magnet. The tension of the antagonistic spring 
is adjusted in the same way as for the sounder. 



An .M U .-.. A,,. . 11 ;;;;;;;f.-i;;;:'; 


_j is, and 

I so to translate the 

illt ,, tl,- written message. It 
observed that the mental pro- 
to whirh tl,,n-.-ivin tolegmphwt 
ngaped i* v-rv >imilar to that of 
shonl.uul ,,,:,, t,, ( .--IMS trans- 
nt , iul ,lil.l,. Bound! into written 

lh , writer is ,,t th, 
ni(n . V of Borne other individual, who 
Fornm^ly, the rate 
atwhiehit ,s possible to send by hand 
, tele^i Uey is about tho 
M that which 'an be mam- . 
,1 by an expert writer of long 
h.ui.i The. average rate niam- 
t lined l.v good operators is about 
85 woidi (126 totters) per minute. 
In ..e.Hs.onal eases, the rate goes 
,, above : words per minute, 
U1 ,l m; iy i-.-a.-h '>'>. and in extra- 
40 words per 

minute.' learners usually find 

the Kivat->t difficulty at the 

stage from 15 to 20 words per 

minute. Not only have they at 

this iHiint to mend their pace in 

th- matte,- .f writing, but at this speed it is 

quite impossible to set down letter by letter 

as received, and difficulty is experienced in 

following up iM-cause th<- writing is necessarily 

some \\:iy in arrear of 

.nallinn. All these 

lirtieultie.. IK. \\.-vn-. 

.iv iH-fun- ai])li<-a- 

. nuicf, 

-inl it is marvellous ho\v 
t tlie li-li-uraphiM 
ultiinat.-ly l-'-coines. 

th.-N|,.M-iiil virtui- 
c.t tin- >->iindiT a- only th- 
. lii|ilny.-<l in th- 
tn.n of tin- M^naU. tin- 
are left 


In miler to lighten 
and di \> -r-ify hi~ 
'd- learner w also mtio- 

i to ihf A 1'. C 

needle and punching 

I,, nts at an early 

Htage, and ti 

ward a cerium amount of 

i- i- had 

. lh- -oimdt-i' it-. 

ABC System, lint little need !>< said of 

il instrument \\as one of the. 
many ingenious inventions ,,t Sn- Charles Wheat- 
stone. The ni'-thod of operating is simplicity 
Oi two instrument's 

On an inner circle the numerals 
appear twice, once from A toJ, 
and again from P to Y. The 
indicator dial is marked in the 
same way. Normally, both 
pointers stand at the zero +. In 
order to send, the little crank in 
the front side of the communi- 
cator is turned at a uniform and 
fairly quick rate, and the letter 
keys are depressed one after 
another in the order required to 
make up any given word. The 
depression of each key automati- 
cally raises the key which had 
last been depressed, and the 
communicator pointer follows 
round. The end of each word is 
indicated by depressing the zero + 
key. If any figures occur, the tele- 
graphist signals " ;". The signals 
which succeed this are read from 
figures on the inner circle, and 
the finish of the group of figures is 
also indicated by the signal ' ; . 
In recent years, however, the 
Post Office has found it necessary 
to abandon the use of the dial numerals, and to 
substitute a system of spelling out figures pre- 
facing the group of figures by the signal FI, and 
following bv the signal FF. As the communicator 
needle travels from point 
to point, the indicator 
needles, both at the 
home and the distant 
station, move in exact 
synchronism, and so tho 
message can be read and 
set down letter by letter 
by the distant operator. 
Usually the receiving 
clerk acknowledges the 
receipt of each word by 
sending one revolution. 
When from any cause 
the needles get out of 
synchronism, the com- 
municator needle must 
be turned to the zero, 
and the indicator needle 
brought to the same 
point by oscillating the 
little adjusting key 
which can be seen just 
below the dial. No 
other adjustment can be 
made without the aid of 
Any person of average 



a lineman or mechanic. iiiv t ^^^^ 

intelligcnei; can send and receive messages on 
this instrument after an hour or two's practice. 
The rate of working is, however, always very 
slow. Ten words per minute is a good average 

speed, 20 is quite exceptional. Its use is now 
practically restricted to village offices where 
messages are so infrequent as to render the re- 
tention of a skilled operator unremunerative. 

The Single Needle. The single needle 
[6], invented at the very birth 
of telegraphy, still survives, and 
possesses features which, in 
special circumstances, render it 
very valuable. In England, in 
addition to postal telegraphy, 
it is very largely used by rail- 
way companies. It is specially 
suitable where a number of 
stations are grouped on one line. 

In the Post Office form, the 
commutator as the sending por- 
tion of the instrument is called 
consists of two keys or tappers, 
which project forward below 
the writing desk. The Morse 
code is used, modified to the 
extent of substituting right and 
left deflections of the needle for 
dashes and dots. Thus, to send 
the letter A, the left key is 
depressed, followed imme- 
diately by a depression of 
the right key. Simultane- 
ously the needles at all sta- 
tions will deflect first to the 
left stop, and then to the 

right. The spacing between letters and words 
is similar to sounder working ; but as the time 
required for the " dash " element of a signal is 
the same as for the " dot," it is possible to send 
at a higher rate on the " needle " than on the 
" sounder." The signals are read 
from the needle by the eye, but it is 
now usual to supplement this by 
providing two tin sounders, giving 
out different notes against which 
the needle beats, so making sound 
reading quite possible, and relieving 
the eye, which tires much sooner 
than the ear. 

For railway service the commu- 
tator is usually of the drop-handle 
form [7]. The instrument 
can then be manipulated 
by one hand. The 
handle has three posi 
tions centre or nor- 
mal, to the right for a 
dot, and to the left for a dash. 
One special advantage of the 
single needle, due to its simple 
construction, is the fact that 
adjustment is rarely necessary. 
It is sometimes, though only 
rarely, affected by earth cur- 
rents, which give the needle a 
bias to one side or the other, 
emergencies the dial is arranged so that it can 
be rotated through a large arc of a circle. It 
is accordingly turned round until the needle is 
properly centred between the stops, when 
working can be resumed. What may be called 


the workshop adjustments of the single needle 
will be dealt with in the Engineering section. 

High = speed Telegraphy. Having 
earned his spurs at the various manual systems, 
our learner will be allowed to approach the 
marvellous Wheatstone automatic 
system. When wires were few and 
exceedingly expensive, this system 
was invented to increase the mes- 
sage-carrying capacity of long 
circuits. Wheatstone early realised 
that the quickest manual signalling 
was still a long way below the 
carrying capacity of telegraph 
wires, and he sought a means of 
greatly increasing it. For this 
purpose he designed three instru- 
ments the perforator, the 
automatic transmitter, 
and the Wheatstone 

By means of the perfor- 
ator [8], messages are 
transferred to along thin 
paper ribbon. Of course, several 
perforators may be used by 
different operators preparing a 
batch of messages. The paper 
ribbons, commonly called 
punched slips [9], are passed 

6. SINGLE- NEEDLE TAPPER FORM through the automatic trans- 
mitter. Controlled by the slips, 
the transmitter sends signals exactly "similar to 
the human operator, but with the accuracy pro- 
verbial of a machine, and at speeds up to 60.0 
words per minute. At the distant station the 
messages are received on a blue ribbon, which 
issues from the receiver in a fashion 
similar to the printer, but with the 
same difference as to accuracy 
and speed as prevail at the sending 

One sees at a glance that this 
system deals with messages on the 
wholesale principle, and enables 
the labours of several operators at 
each end to be applied to one wire. 
The Perforator. The per- 
forator [8] is a little mechanical 
arrangement in which three keys 
are arranged so that when de- 
pressed by striking them with 
little rubber-shod iron punching- 
sticks, they operate levers and 
cutters which make certain holes 
in a white paper ribbon. The 


To meet such 

left key corresponds to dots, 
the centre key is the spacing 
key, and the right key makes 
the dashes. 

In the operation of punch- 
ing both hands are used, but 
the keys corresponding to the required dots, 
dashes, and spaces must be struck in proper 
order, and under no circumstances simul- 
taneously. After punching the dots and dashes 
to form a letter, the centre key is depressed 
once, before commencing the next letter, and 



after th.- l^t letter oA a word, the space key 

feitni.* un. ag I beginning 

b valuable. The badly -taught " puncher dBM 
SI H ,he ,,,,,,,' wit* hk riL'l.t hand, and get, 
ajj^, rH in comparison With the man 

whose rtylehas been formed on riirht BnM. 

,,| ( |,n nil.- for punchinu is-sp, 
th ,. , l;U1( | ,,, recnired for th.- la*t stroke of each 

Thus after A ( - ). 
u.rh th,- 1,-ft hand: *ffr X 
(_.) space with tin- right hand. 

'Hie word shown on tin- specimen 

Mow [91 is a favourite one 
-ing right and 

nching. In punching it, 

ill.- hamiscome down alternately 

throughout, except where thetWO 

come together in the letter 

L'Olld puncher* 

tin- alternating use of 

hands a stage further 
by ii-mi: tin TII on our key for 
,h,. fatten M II " and " O." 
The average rate which a 
good "puncher" can main- 
tain is about -"> \vonU p.-r 
ininut.-. Tlu- work is not 
unpleasant, and good oper- 
ators usua r it a 
pleasant change from their 

JH1 ,| sundry tliat Uu- room is strictly private, and 
, rntered onlv bv those having tin- per- 
,i,h,s,,.,rta./ of the Post -Office. Our 
that he, has 


'the oath "of secrecy, presses forward with only a 

slight hesitation. 

the middle of the morning, and imme- 
diately our ears are assailed 
by such a buzzing and click- 
ing and humming that wo at 
once think of a beehive. 
Across the room run long, 
narrow tables crowded with 
apparatus. Sitting at one 
side only, and all facing 
towards the centre- of the 
room, we see rows and rows 
of men and women operat ors. 
Many youths are hurriedly 
carrying messages from point 
to point. Older men art- 
dotted about the room, 
evidently each in charge of 
two or three ta.bles, while 
new the middle of one long 
wall we see a sort of ptilpit- 
desk, where sits the presiding 
bee, keeping watchful eyes 
on his many workers. In a 
telegraph office there are no 

'he slip comes from the receiver marked 
in th.- dj*sh-and-dot style, which our learner has 
already nu-t in tin- inkwriter. Daily practice 

Og up >lijs will eoin])let(> his round of 
seho(.l duties. The beginning of the slip to be 

M-d is held in the left hand. The next 
foot or so is laid flat on the desk between the 

nd and a "slip conductor," a sort of 
i^ht with a little upright pillar. The re- 
mainder of the slip usually extends to the floor. 
.id nf the thumb and first finger of the 

,.|. the slip is pulled along as quickly as 
the eyes can read and the hand write. Twenty- 
five to 30 words per minute is the usual average 

Telegraph Instrument Room. What 

.uf our learner when he h;ts been judged 
ready for pnwtieal work will depmd on the 

(]fl "t the 
Service If the deiuaii'l mi prac- 

.My In- 

employed half -time mi 
time eiiHeetillU I 

fonnfl from point to point 


ing the bent .!.- to enal>le us to take a 

l.inl M-.-V. iiall -ii|.po-e that we follow 

him into a la'L '! otlice. ( )n the door 

in- inMrutn- -tiee warning all 

The Test Box. Opposite the pulpit, on the 
other long wall, our eyes are entrapped by a 
projecting wall of dark, polished wood, about 
20 ft. long and 7 ft. high, with a yard- wide Erieza 
of brass screws along the eye line and a square 
check pattern, still in brass screws, further down. 
This is the test box, where all the lines from 
distant towns and from the sets of apparatus ir 
the instrument room are concentrated, each on 
its proper brass screw, numbered and labelled. 

Further along the; same wall, made conspicuous 
by some hundreds of small pigeon-holes, each 
containing quantities of the familiar buff enve- 
lopes, is the delivery department, where young 
ladies are engaged in enveloping telegrams. 

The man to whom a telegram rarely comes 
learns with surprise that in every large town 
there are firms whose, daily average of telegrams 




in the instrument 

runs into two, and sometimes three; figures. For 
sin h folk the Post Office finds it economical to 
have supplies of envelopes with printed addresses, 
hence the many pigeon-holes. Here; one also 
notices the ingenious little machines employed 
for numbering the; messages. 



The Proper Place of Athletics. Their Danger and Abuse. Exercise 
and Health. The Value of Rest to Young and Old. Holidays 

Group 25 


Continued from 
page 4-.MS 


IT is the undoubted duty of every man to see 
1 h;it . as far as possible, his body is in a sound 
condition ; and it is beginning to be recognised 
that not only is one's own health imperilled by 
neglect, but that a stunted physique may result 
in a degenerate offspring. Athletics rightly 
pursued, or their equivalent in exercise, become, 
therefore, a duty, binding in various measures on 
every man, woman, and child. 

Exercise and Physique. In the manu- 
facturing districts, the general physique had 
6O degenerated a few years ago that the 
average, stature of a man was but 5 ft. 1J in., 
and his weight 106 Ib. ; whereas, in certain 
northern counties, in country districts, where 
bodily exercise was the rule, the men averaged 
5 ft. 11 in., and weighed 199 It). Possibly other 
circumstances favoured the difference. We may 
be sure, however, it did not end with the physique, 
but affected every part of the mortal being. 

The development of athletics is of recent 
date. Thirty or forty years ago our daily papers 
took no notice of any sport but horse-racing, 
which can hardly be included under athletics ; 
there, were no crowds at boat-races, or at 
Lord's. Though it seems strange to say so, it 
is only an insignificant minority that actually 
engage in outdoor games ; and, so far from 
their being overdone, the pressing need of the 
day is still more and more outdoor exercise for 
our urban population. The outcry that has 
arisen against athletics is rather against the 
betting, the gossiping, the reporting and general 
puffing, than the actual playing. 

"Sportsmen" who Never Play. We 
distinctly say now, in 190(5, as Dr. Warre 
so well pointed out at the Health Congress in 
1886, that the value of outdoor games is not yet 
understood. The interest in sports is great, 
but the players are few, and the value of the 
exercise is only experienced by those who play 
not by those who look on. At Lord's, out of 
'J..'57-"> members, only 118 played on the ground 
in one year. In all London there are not 
probably 4,000 football players out of the 
population of 800,000 men. Probably not more 
than 1 per cent, of men between twenty and 
forty play games at all, and still fewer young 
\\oiiien, whose physique is of such national 
importance to our race. Their chests usually 
show conspicuous want of development of lung 
power, solely from lack of physical exercise. 
It is true that among a few of the rich the 
love of outdoor exercise is carried to excess, 
but these are small exceptions. On the other 
hand, the real importance, and indeed necessity, 
of physical culture is beginning to be more 
realised. Tn children especially it is becoming 

better understood, and they are getting straighter 
backs and broader chests. Attitudes in school 
hours are studied, and gamec and drills are 
fostered ; so that while the general physique of 
the lower classes is still very poor, that of the 
educated classes is greatly improved. Indeed, 
we may say that a boy at Harrow or Eton will 
average & in. taller and a stone heavier than a 
boy of the same age in a London County 
Council school. 

The Average Man's Exercise. Gene- 
rally speaking, the muscular system is in 
good condition when the person is about his 
right weight, and takes plenty of exercise. 
Games, however valuable, have certain draw- 
backs in over-developing various parts of the 
body, which regular gymnastic exercise is always* 
seeking to correct. 

A remarkable instance of this is seen in the 
connection of lateral curvature of the spine with 
the attitude of writing. A very large proportion 
of these deformities are caused during school 
life by the twisted position of the body that was 
in vogue, especially in girls' schools, in the days 
of the old sloping, angular handwriting. Ambi- 
dexterity in school life, and afterwards in some 
professions and trades, tends to correct this. 
When the muscles of the limbs that meet the 
eye are kept in condition, we know that those 
muscles that we cannot see, and on which 
our life depends, such as the muscles of the 
heart and internal organs, are also strong. 
Exercise is therefore essential for health, and the 
amount required by the average human being 
has been roughly stated as a mile walk a day for 
every stone weight. In this is included all exer- 
cise taken, such as walking upstairs or about a 

Exercise, the Beautifier. What exer- 
cise can do in the way of beauty has been so 
graphically described by Sir F. Treves that it may 
be quoted with its wealth of adjectives entire : 
" Physical exercise is capable of healthfully 
transforming the meaningless, monotonous, 
purposeless curves of the physically uneducated, 
who are mainly muscular paupers, whose limbe 
are little better than burlesques, composed as 
they are of shapeless masses of flabby, doughy 
tissue, covered with dull, loose, lustreless skin, 
into the beautiful, classical, muscular outline 
of ancient statuary, clothed with the polished, 
fresh, elastic skin of perfect health." Who would 
not take exercise after this V 

Kxercise varies with age and sex. In child- 
hood, games and musical drill are best ; in 
boyhood and youth, games and field sports 
and general athletics, always avoiding what 
leads to extreme exhaustion or breathlessncss, 



d homuK" 

We must remember, too, these sports bring 

( ,nlv health to the actual ptyKS, not to the 

.;,. onlookers.*. walking, rowing, and 

, v ,l,, minently of value to all classes. 

. m d younn women pmies and sports 

OOd, omitting the most violent, such as 

.11. Thex conduce to -rn.wth. ht-auty and 

Looking on is not Athletics. Men of 

mam.- yean depend "" walking, ridmg, cycling, 

t,,r ei ,ket-but never 

,11 . m d often. and increasingly, golf. Ot 

al value of golf for maturity and old 

an IK- no doubt ; but we question 

mud, uhether it- solitary nature and its 

character does not often develop 

unpleaMnL' traii^ and tend to selfishness. 

Ml through matin. life. ten minutes -brisk 
NT the daily morning bath is good. 
day should be spent where 
,. in really active exercise. 
\ revolution has been going on and is still 
progressing in the medical profession with 
regard to exercise. More and more the 
uiis of exercise and rest, of 
air and nuict. are coming to the front. 

11 -onio such lines is indispensable to 
h, and is far too little thought of amongst 
1 1 d sedentary workers. These are 
mtly getting out of sorts for want of 
exercise. It is well if, at least once 

in tin- clay, one glows all over with active exertion, 
.it tin- \vhole stream of life is quickened in 
p organ and this can never be achieved by 
a lazy stroll or 1>y -watching a cricket match. 

A i nation into the physical con- 

dition of our youth and manhood has shown a 

lack of physical culture, and has dissipated 

hollow fallacy that looking on at sports is 

Watching games has largely 

:i the place of playing them, and it cer- 

tain iltour ; or, rather, it substitutes 

unhealthy brain excitement for healthy bodily 

The whole tendency is in this direc- 

.ind Ixith motor-ears and motor cycles con- 

tril' io it. \e\-crthele. we must not 

be pessimists. for. in spite of all. the race is 

Thecivili-ed portion, as judged by the 

i armour and the like, is said roughly 

-f 1J inches in height 

in \ '.ears. 

The Finest Exercise for Girls. Our 

1 ilnly In-netited in stature and 

geral phy-u|ue |,y the increased attention to 

games and -port-; and. after all. the body of 

Aoman is ,,f more value than that of'the 

1 ill-- mother- of the race a tine physique 

ore dearly teaches, for 

we * of famine more lx.\ 

Urn than nirU ( m ii |>. in < almlist all 

M!C in times 4 if plenty 
girls pretjotnm 

idoubtedly one of the <r,-e,,test 
'weil upon our jrirl population. 
game mean- to the future ot the 

d especially if we could 

mm widely extended amongst our sedentary 
"opulaTkH/of work-girls, dressmakers govern- 
sses < lerks. etc. we can never know. Iheie 
s no sight that speaks more for the future welfare 
"f England than^a group of well-made Enghsh 
UirN n-turning from a tennis lawn, their every 
movement instinct with healthy life and vigour. 
It ,s in vain, therefore, to set against this a 
sprained arm or ankle, or even a . 
heart, as occasionally may occur among the 

But the mental value of athletics is also 
very well marked and quite undeniable, 
is perhaps largely due to their increasing social 
character in the present day. Social athletics 
and crowded pleasure grounds and matches are 
no doubt largely due to the increase of town 
populations and the facilities of travel. Hence, 
clubs and recreation grounds and parks witl 
gymnasia, and cricket grounds are multiplied 

The playing of games together in friendly 
competition tends to develop self-control, 
firmness, manliness, unselfishness and general 
goodfellowship, while it lessens self -consciousness. 
It also develops nerve force, on the one hand, 
while it lessens nerve strain and nervousness, 
which is really nerve weakness, on the other. 
Athletics, rightly used, develop patience, per 
severance, self-restraint, friendship and humility, 
and increased will-power. 

Dangers of Athletics. Lest, however, 
we should be accused of holding a brief for 
one side only, let us now consider what evils 
are connected with athletic exercise. These, 
like the advantages, are twofold physical, and 
mental or moral. The former may arise from 
athletics directly or indirectly. Amongst the 
direct physical dangers are sprains and strains 
of the muscles, accidents to life and limb, and 
internal injuries. 

Sprains and strains are very common, and 
arise from overtaxing one's power, as in severe 
competition ; from pure accident ; from want 
of training, and from excessive violence. 

Accidents to life and limb are still more 
serious ; and we fear, in spite of what its 
apologists may say in its favour, a grave case 
can be made out against football, and particu- 
larly when played by men's clubs according to 
Rugby rules. 

From September, 1889, to the third week in 
January, 1890, the direct deaths from football 
were 13 ; the fractures of legs, 15 ; of arms, 4 ; of 
collar-bones, 11 ; and severe internal injuries, 7. 
A great deal might be made out of the fact 
that the mortality from football in three months 
i* nearly double that of hydrophobia in England 
for three years, there being eight deaths from 
this cause 'in that period. 

Internal strain and injuries may arise from 
over-exertion, or very commonly from want of 
training. Clergymen who go Alpine climbing in 
the autumn, and young schoolgirls who take 
exhausting cycling journeys, often suffer in this 
way. The heart, lungs, or any other organ may 
thus be severely injured. 

Indirect clangers arise mainly from improper 
clothing or carelessness. The safe clothing for 
all athletics is flannel ; and yet we see fashion 
requiring some of our public schools to play 
in linen shirts under a blazing sun. 

Athletic Training. Turning to the moral 
evils of athletics, we are bound to say they are all 
excrescences, and that from athletics themselves, 
rightly conducted, no moral evil can ensue. The 
betting and gambling that disgrace so many of 
our grounds are beginning to be tabooed at some 
of those more recently opened, notably Padding - 
ton Recreation Ground. But there is great 
mental risk whenever men give themselves up 
to physical exercise and nothing else. This is 
especially seen in the case of prizefighters. 
Exclusive training of any one part of a man 
is necessarily very injurious to the rest. It is 
here, perhaps, in the devotion of every spare 
hour to physical exercise that to many young 
men the chief danger lies. There are other claims, 
associations that cannot be safely ignored. The 
most healthful life gives each duty its place, 
and looks for a wise proportion in all things. 

The present system of training is the most 
healthy and natural imaginable. All the 
former fads of raw beefsteak diet and other 
absurdities have disappeared, and given place 
to a most sensible and regular mode of life. 
Without going into regular training, it would 
b'e well if those whose lives are sedentary, 
and who contemplate active exercise at any 
time or during the holidays, would make it a 
rule' always to give themselves a little pre- 
liminary canter. For instance, in football, 
if a man is going to play who has not played 
for some time, it is astonishing what a help it 
is to take a little preliminary practice at kicking, 
stooping, running, and tumbling about. 

No hard exercise should be taken without 
preparation. Before going to Switzerland the 
body should be hardened by prolonged walks 
and climbs at home. For want of this the 
holiday often does more harm than good. 

Cycling, Walking, and Rowing. 
Cycling is such an admirable and delightful 
exercise that for hygienic reasons it is a great 
pity it has been invaded by the nerve-destroying 
motor cycle and the motor-car. Walking, after 
all, perhaps next to riding, remains the best all- 
round exercise, while rowing has a very special 
value in the form of sculling, and is especially 
good for young women, in that it gives the arms 
and chest and back free play while the rest of 
the body is still, and also because it is one of 
the few exercises that are not one-sided. Nearly 
all games use one side of the body at the expense 
of the other, hence the value of a few minutes' 
regular gymnastics each day to restore the 

It is important at all ages in exercise to stop 
short of exhaustion, such as, in the case of 
children, long walks, such games as hare and 
hounds, and paper-chases ; in the case of young 
men, severe competitions. In old age excess is 
common in running to catch trains, in over- 
cycling, etc., but moderation in all things is the 
golden rule, both in exercise and rest. 


In health exercise and rest go hand in hand ; 
but of the two, perhaps, we can do better 
without exercise than without rest, though no 
one can really be well and strong who does not 
enjoy both. 

Rest During Illness. In almost every 
accident and disease rest is not only an instinct 
but a necessity, and it is well to remember 
this. In the case of accidents, for instance, 
there is the general rest required after shock, 
severe internal injuries, and great operations. 
For all these rest in bed is the great resource. 
It is not too much to say that in such cases 
rest alone is worth more than all the other 
remedies put together. General rest, which is 
always best secured in bed, is required in fevers, 
which so rapidly exhaust the strength, in 
wasting diseases, especially consumption, in 
fits .and faints, in painful diseases, such as 
rheumatism, heart disease, and all nervous 
breakdowns. These all are greatly relieved by 
simple rest and by the more elaborate " rest- 

It is most important to understand the value 
of local rest. If a man has broken his leg, it 
is not enough to put him to bed ; local rest must 
be secured for the two fragments of bone, other- 
wise they will never knit. Nearly all cases of 
ununited fracture arise from want of complete 
local rest. Putting it in position is indeed all 
the doctor does when he sets the bone, for the 
splints and bandages are used simply so to 
fix the parts as to give them absolute rest. 
The same is the case with dislocation. The 
joint must be kept at perfect rest for some 
time, till the torn ligaments have united. 

Bad sprains of any part of the body are cured 
by local rest. When an ankle is twisted, not 
only is the foot kept off the ground, but it is 
fixed on a splint. In all bad wounds and bruises, 
the part heals better and more rapidly if it is 
kept at rest ; otherwise it will heal more slowly, 
or not at all. With inflamed joints, rest is the 
one thing needful. Knee or hip joint cases, 
which get little relief by the patient being put 
to bed, at once begin to improve when the 
inflamed part is absolutely at rest in proper 

" Local " Rest. Local rest is also re- 
quired in all diseases of the internal organs. 
If there is an ulcer in the stomach, the only 
way to heal it is to give the stomach com- 
plete rest from food. If there are ulcers in 
the bowels, as in typhoid fever, the only way 
to heal them is to keep the patient at perfect 
rest in bed, and the bowels at rest by giving 
nothing but liquid food. In brain fever, the 
head is kept at rest by the avoidance of light, 
by the maintenance of quiet, by the use of a 
soft pillow, and, if necessary, by sedative 
medicines. When the pleura or covering of the 
lungs is inflamed, as in pleurisy, the pain is 
great each time the ribs move up and down in 
breathing. This is relieved by tightly strapping 
the ribs, so that they cannot move ; thus the 
pleura gets rest. When the heart is diseased, 
although it cannot be put to rest entirely, its 
work is made as light as possible by the patient 



Ivinc in Unl with the head low, and by 

SM - -'lit go on through ail 

larieteof dHM*d ** that in each and 
iu-iii the tirat great desideratum is 

iM jllnrss i-o-o important, rest after. lines- 
: ... T>. WMV in which men, atter a 

resume work/sho.s how little this point 
^understood. Hardly IM important than tke 
hospitals ar- -the . oi.vale^cent homes, of which 
there are now some hundreds in England. 

Rest in Health and Convalescence. 
In this case, however. the rest is only com- 
parative for th- patient is no longer in bed, but 
','rolls a'lM.ut ii the sun and open air. 

Ml to lay down a general law as to the 
,i,->.-r.nce ; perhaps the best that 
an 1*. said on th- subject is that only after 
very sl.d.t illnesses should work or study 
IH- ' ii .mi.-. liately resumed, and that after all 
exhausting illnesses and fevers, a period of 
further rent should be allowed of not less than 
one fortnight, preferably more. In still more 
serious cases, when life has been in danger, the 
period of convalescence should equal the period 

h is usual in all schools, and in most trades, 

to allow more time for meals than is absolutely 

1 ime being given for rest. 

nay be half an hour or an hour ; whatever 

of the greatest service, and those 

trades and pronouns are certainly injurious 

ilth where it is not allowed. 
Children at school may be allowed to play at 
this time, since it is their minds, not their bodies, 
Ixvn worked at school ; but in the 
caae of jfirls growing rapidly, or of weak health, 

r better to insist on their lying down during 
the -pare time. For young children, the mid- 
day hour in lied is of immense value, and should 
pt up till schooldays l>egin. The mother's 
..-nerally in the afternoon, after 
the children have returned to school and the 
house is tidied up. An hour or two then on the 
i still, if possible, in the quiet 
bed-room, with the window open, gives her the 
ne,-(U after the hard work of the morning, 
ice her up for the remaining duties of the 

How Long should we Sleep ? There 
are some trades requiring night shifts, and occu- 
pations, like nursing, which reverse the natural 
order, and require the work at night and the 
rest by day. Such callings are never healthy, 
and soonci m- thrir maik. W T e must 

night nurses and night watchmen, but it 
is well to know that the le-.- n iirhi work there is, 
for health. For a short time of 
ervi. k-. night work 

doe* i -1 i. taken in the day 

by a man working out of doors, as in ploughing, 
! the like, we constantly tind it 
pent in sleep, for then- ,-an IK- no doubt that 
not!. n sleep iM-tn-r than hard work in 

the o|M-n air Slei-p. indei-d. is always more 
thaa by brain 'workers. 
-t after hard brain work is. not -le<-p. 

,,, ..xereise for the body, which acts a* * 
,,.,, , restorative to the mind. 

'With regard to rest at night in sleep, there 
are several points to be noted. The importance 
of sufficient sleep to any man cannot be overrated ; 
when he gets it, he should rise in the morning 
with the strength and vigour of a veritable 
resurrection, the cares as well as the fatigues of 
the past day being gone, and the body well 
braced for the toils of another day. But what is 
sufficient sleep ? The old adage, six hours for 
a man, seven for a woman, and eight for a fool, 
is very wrong. Eight for a man nine for a 
woman and ten for a child, would have been 
nearer the mark. Sleep must be not only suffi- 
eient, but refreshing. To ensure this, the 
principal ablutions with working women should 
take place at night. A right understanding of 
the extreme importance of health, of periods of 
relaxation, alone enables a hard-working woman 
to preserve her looks and spirits to a green 
old age. The right time for the father's ablu- 
tions is immediately on his return home at 
night, or, at any rate, after his evening meal. 

When and How to Sleep. In close 
connection with the daily rest is the nap after 
meals. Many who are advancing in years resist 
this tendency by every means in their power, 
believing that it is a bad habit. On the con- 
trary, it is a good one, though not needed by 
the young. The perfect rest it brings greatly 
favours digestion, and for the old it is really 

With regard to the rest at night, the bed-room 

should, if possible, be large and airy, and above 

the ground floor. Separate beds are healthier 

than double ones. They should be firm and 

comfortable, but not soft, preferably made with 

spring mattresses. The bed-clothes should be 

light and porous, but sufficiently thick to keep the 

person quite warm all night. The pillow should 

be soft, and high or low, as wished. But all 

these points are unimpoitant for giving perfect 

refreshing sleep compared with the question 

of sufficient fresh air. Unfortunately there 

still exists, generally without the slightest reason 

to support it, a singular prejudice against night 

air. Except in a few cases, where houses are 

built in low-lying grounds or marshes, or near 

rivers or canals, and in some exceptional cases 

of storm, wind, and rain, the window may be 

safely left open at night, for the air is then 

healthier and purer than in the day; and this is 

of the first importance to health while sleeping. 

The Bed=room Windows. Out of one 

hundred parts of oxygen the breath of life 

which we absorb in the twenty-four hours to 

sup]>ort existence, only one-third is taken in 

during the day, and two-thirds at night. No 

bed -room ought, therefore, to be used by people 

in health that has not a direct communication 

with the open air. The top of the window 

should always be open, in summer as widely as 

possible, and in winter in such a way that a direct 

draught does not blow down upon the sleeper. 

The air should be directed upwards towards the 

ceiling by one of the many simple contrivances 

elsewhere described. [See pages 4019-4020.] 

.For children to sleep in pure air is, if possible, 
more essential still, and they should be thoroughly 
accustomed to sleeping with the window well 
open. It is only the habit of sleeping in close, 
stuffy rooms that renders' a person liable to catch 
cold from an open window. Children should 
sleep on firm (not hard) beds, singly, if possible, 
with light but sufficient clothing. They should 
not sleep on the back or on the face. If a child 
persistently sleeps on its back, a towel should be 
tied in a knot in the middle and then fastened 
round the child's waist with the knot exactly on 
the spine ; the child will never sleep on its back 
then. Children, especially when at school, 
require at night more fresh air than others do. 

The Week=end. The custom of having 
no school tor children on Saturday, and no 
work after two or three o'clock for men, is 
gaining ground everywhere, to the great advan- 
tage of the health of the rising generation. To 
children the boon is inestimable, and parents 
should make the most of it. The first point 
to remember is that as t he child has been cooped 
up indoors all the week, therefore " out of doors " 
must be the rule on Saturday. This is the way 
to get the most good out of the day's rest. 
Children in town should spend the day in the 
nearest park, the country or the fields. Let no 
parent consider Saturday as a lost day to the 
child. If the other days are of importance for 
the child's mental development, Saturday is the 
day for the development and health of the body. 

And what about men ? How are they to got 
the most good out of their hard-earned half-holi - 
day ? Not certainly by spending it in some 
close room, but by taking that amount of relaxa- 
tion that gives the most rest. Some are so hard- 
worked that a couple of hours' doze is essential 
before they are fresh and vigorous enough for a 
turn out of doors at all. Those engaged in 
much bodily labour should not undertake long 
and wearisome excursions on this day, but should 
remember that the watchword for the day is rest, 
and that this is the first consideration. Care 
should be taken, therefore, not to make a toil ot a 
pleasure. Somehow it is usually the mother 
who gets least rest. To her is generally com- 
mitted the task of looking after the children 
the livelong day, which, to her, is no change of 
occupation, and, therefore, anything but rest, 

When the Body Rests. In all things 
connected with man, work and rest alternate 
at varying intervals. The very cells of the 
body are believed to have their time of 
rest. The heart itself rests four-fifths of every 
second ; the lungs are at rest between each of 
the seventeen breaths that are drawn every 
minute, the stomach during the intervals between 
the digestion of the various^ meals, the brain 
between the intervals of study, the body at 


various periods during the day, partially, and 
completely at night when in bed. Some have 
cycles of work and rest, some complete in a single 
second, others in a minute, others in an hour or in 
a day, and others again in a week or even longer 
periods. The institution of the Sabbath, or one 
day of rest in seven is as old as man himself, 
and though it had to do primarily with the Ten 
Commandments, it is not necessarily kept from 
religious reasons alone, but also on hygienic 

What Holidays Should Be. Most 
people, especially in towns, look forward to an 
annual break in the daily routine, by going away 
for a week or a fortnight, or a longer time, either 
to some seaside resort or to some country place. 
This practice is a good one, though it is often 
attended with drawbacks. Perhaps the railway 
journey is so long as to weary everyone both 
in going and coming ; or the place is so crowded 
that there is no proper sleeping accommodation, 
and thus health is injured. The principle, how- 
ever, when there are means to carry it out 
properly, is a good one, and infinitely better than 
that terrible rush some hundred or more miles on 
a bank holiday that is supposed to be " rest."' 
When pleasure becomes hard work, and means 
rising at 5 a.m., and' returning at 11 p.m., there 
cannot be much rest in it, or much health 
derived from it. 

The rest obtained by living away from one's 
work in the country is somewhat dearly bought 
by the daily run to business ; and when this means 
an hour by rail, the price is too high, for eventu- 
ally the health is undermined. 

With women who are overworked it may be 
remembered that twenty -four hours' rest in bed 
will often ward off an illness, and save a doctor's 
bill ; and if the overwork is chronic, the mere 
fact of not coming down till after breakfast may 
make all the difference. 

In old age, too, after 65, there should be a 
great increase of rest, and life should be taken 
more leisurely. Of course, the wisest maxims 
cannot always be obeyed, and necessity knows 
no law. Nevertheless, it is well to impress the 
therapeutic value of rest on all sections of the 
community, for not the least hard worked are the 
determined votaries of pleasure. 

One point may be made in conclusion, that 
only those who work can rest ; those who never 
exert themselves do not know the true meaning 
of the word. 

NOTE. On page 3719 the table in the paragraph 
headed "Water Vapour'' should read: 
cub. ft, of air at 30 Fahr. can contain 2 grains of water 




Croup 2 



By P. 

tune whei- 

| v, hooU of painting, 
u i,h derivin-r her art from foreign sources. 
Not there was not an 

lieojnninir of the eighteenth 

th <M> Ki'.tT 17ti) appeared on the 

threshold of a brilliant )H-riodof artistic activity, 

, IU1 f |,- iMden around Mhom these painters 

,|. , n d from whom they took their style, 

. l.lood and birth. Holbein was 

of the foreign masters who worked at 

.'li-li Court and determined the manner 

tit m of jortniiti8tB, 
;lly of minia- 
ture i 

lK-rk. the 

|.aintor of 
I . may, 

\\itl non, 

.||c<! the father 

of Knglish figh- 

D iv 


inHiienn- \v.i- i nor 

nunix and lasting, 

tliouirh tuo oth'-r 

ign masters 


and <;ain-l>oroiigh 

y and Sir 


-in More, 
Daniel M \- 1 e n~. 
M M 



and had their 

f< ill i \\vrn capable 

like Dobson, 

Scott, who have 


a preacher who uses his art as a weapon in 
the cause of virtue and righteousness But 
these inartistic subjects are painted with con 
summate artistry. If the anecdotal painter 
generally fails, it is because a commentary is so 

adding a single n< of art. 

liam Hogarth. The tir>t 

l.y a Biiti-h art ken l,y 

Hogan! m<: in Kngland 

h.ul lN--n a!' 

.'I h-ahhy and deino- 
nuich of the 

Engliah puritanical spirit in his scathing -.itii>-~ 

-e-< and immoralities of 

hm contemporaries H 11. a moralist 

people's ideas, but tells his own stories with 
unmistakable directness in the language of paint, 
He conceives them as pictures, and, if one has 
eyes to see, one needs no explanation either of 
trie story or of the moral to be drawn from such 
picture cycles as the " Mariage a la Mode," the. 
" Rake's Progress," " The Idle Apprentice," and 
"The Industrious Apprentice." At the same 
time, Hogarth never 
allows his literary 
intention to inter- 
fere with the purely 
artistic considera- 
tion, never sacrifices 
beauty of arrange- 
ment and harmo- 
nious colour to the 
clearer telling of 
the stoiy. The 
mastery of his 
brush work can best 
be judged from a 
picture like the 
" Shrimp Girl " at 
the National Gal 
lery, where the 
sheer beauty of 
paint can be en- 
joyed without the 
distraction of a 
moral sermon [90 J. 
The second half of 
the eighteenth cen- 
tury witnessed the 
rise of the great 
school of British 
portraiture, of 
which Gains- 
borough, Reynolds, 

90. THK SHRIMP ;IRL. BY HOGARTH Maxell an( j R ae bum are 

(National Gallery, London) tfafi brilliant lumi . 

naries. Of th.3 two first-named, Gainsborough 
may be said to be the representative of the 
aristocratic and Reynolds of the democratic 
tradition. Gainsborough is, above all, the painter 
of the graceful elegance of contemporary 
society his ladies are beautiful, distinguished, 
it-lined; his men slightly dandified; and his 
\eiy technique, his deliciously cool colour 
schemes, and the negligent but sure elegance of 
his touch, reflect the character of his sitters. 

Van Dyck is his real master, and his affinity with 
him appears clearly in such a picture as the 
famous " Blue Boy," which was painted in 
defiance of Sir Joshua's dic- 
tum that blue cannot be made 
the dominating colour of a 
successful scheme [91]. 

Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
Reynolds, unlike Gains- 
borough, who had never left 
England or made a profound 
study of the old masters, had 
steeped himself in the art of 
the past and based his 
designs, his style, and his 
colour on the Italian masters. 
Ho was for ever proclaiming 
his allegiance to the " grand 
style," and his more am- 
bitious compositions hold 
more than an echo of Tinto- 
retto and Titian, of Correggio 
and Michelangelo, and even 
of Guercino and the later 
Bolognese. But not on these 
does his fame depend. With 
a curious perversity, which 
we find to an even greater 
degree in Romney, he set 


George Romney. George Romney, whom 
fashion has placed beside these two masters, 
scarcely deserves to be held up as their compeer. 
His sense of beauty and 
technical skill were certainly 
second to none, but he fell 
into a mannered convention 
which, while searching for 
prettiness and finding it 
lost in character and sincerity. 
The vast number of portraits 
left by his brush might all 
have been painted from 
members of the same family. 
Raeburn. (A.D. 1756-1823), 
the greatest master produced 
by . Scotland, has, unlike 
Romney, met with com- 
parative neglect, though he 
is now rapidly gaining the 
recognition which is his due 
as the father of the modern 
Scottish school, a daring 
colourist of rare strength and 
virility. As regards summary 
expressiveness and breadth 
of brush work he is un 
approached by any of his 

With broad 

little store by his portrai- 91 THE BLIJE BY GA ^ S B'OROUGH 8we f e P s ?, f <*? bru f h . h ? su g; 

ture, which he considered gests all the subtleties of 

mere drudgery, and pinned his faith to painting modelling and drawing. Hoppner, Opie and Cotes 

; ' histories" in the grand manner of the later must be mentioned among the masters of these 

Italian masters. With all their noble qualities of halcyon days of English portraiture, while Sir 

colour and design, they would to-day not suffice to Thomas Lawrence con n ects these days with the 

secure Reynolds the emi 
nent position he holds in 
the art of his country. 
This position is due to 
his powers as a portrait 
painter. And, as such, 
he is the antithesis of 
Gainsborough. He is as 
intellectual and search- 
ing as Gainsborough is 
elegant and superficial, 
and his sitters were not so 
much the society beauties 
of the day, but the aris- 
tocracy of intellect men 
of letters, politicians, 
actors, philosophers, and 
scientists. In the place of 
the cool musical colour 
of Gainsborough applied 
in loose, thin touches, he 
prefers a hot, sumptuous 
scheme carried out with 
firmness and energy in a 
thick impasto. As like- 
nesses, his portraits are 
far more convincing than 
those of his rival. He 
particularly excelled in 
portraying the innocent 
charm of childhood, and may, in fact, be said to be 
the first artist who painted children as children, 
and not as miniature men and women [92]. 


(National Gallery, London) 

period of academic sloth 
from which English 
painting was only liber- 
ated in the Forties by the 
Pre-Raphaelite revolt. 

Landseer and 
Wilkie. Only land- 
scape painting [see page 
4299 1 made giant strides 
in this period, and Con- 
stable and Turner 
showed the way to the 
Barbizon men and the 
impressionists, while 
soapy and insipid por- 
traiture, uninspired re- 
lating of anecdotes in 
paint, theatrical scenes 
of history, and such like 
held the public, and 
academic painting erred 
further and further in 
the path of bituminous 
gloom. Even where 
there was real talent, as 
in the case of the 
animal painter, Land- 
seer, concessions had to 
be made to the public 
demand for humorous 
anecdote. David Wilkie must be mentioned 
among the great artists of that period, a real 
master in the handling of pigment which with 


Art Under ' 

hirh we have 



in M.itr "f th- mini" 

If,. SM mtluenced chiefly by tl 

n ,l hi> Itall & '" reilW i -.7 - 

arrunpn, poop of ^J^g ad- The laseivious 

.;,. .I,,.,. followed by tl 

The Empire. 

left at the threshold of the 

^ trsJffl^.^SLfS 

,.,,untry, the politi a u f ^^.^.^ Avn i n ti on . 

combing an,! ,"-.;;>. - --,-t, O f artistic evolution 

in massing the letle.ttci^Dy immoral Court wa: 

art of an immoral 


leserves 111^ 6'^- 

lilak--. a mv-tie 1^1086 

(Walker Art Gallery. Liverpool) 

weird, fantastic imagination defied all laws of 
Nature. belong to this time, but was an isolated 
appeal-line.- in tin- history of art 

The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. 

( in the \\hole. English painting was at its lowest 

,-!.li in 1^ is. \\lu-n a fe\v ardent young spirits, 

led by D. G. Rossetti, J. E. Millais, and W. 

Holman Hunt, revived to renounce the artificial 

acadnnie formula of the day, and to follow the 

example of the Italian primitives, to approach 

ra in a humble, naive spirit, and to do 

away with theatrical posing and bituminous 

shadow* and ready-made recipes for making 

pi. tuie^ The faniims picture, "LuxMundi," 

produced in colour opposite page 625, 

.Unit example is the " Lorni/o 

I...' by Milhis |93J. Every detail, 

> grass blade or flower, stone or furrow, 

was made the object of careful study from 

ire so much so, that at times the 

larger truth was lost sight of in th passion 

microscopic truths. As regards subject, 

romance unl |ti-y \\<-re put in the place of 

. liK-ii then had the applause of 


the Brotherhood aroused 

a Htorm of indiL'iiaiit al.use. but a powerful 
M'li r of tht-ir .iim^ ap|eared in Ruskin. who 
v hiniM-lf heart and soul into the move- 
ment. The Brotherhood, as such, was short - 
i. but tli- influence has In-en la-tinii ;;nd 
is Btill to U- felt in the art of to-day in spit.- 
of ' .of Flench 'ideas and 


Revolution, who, i 
constructions of Ancient 
history, glorified the self- 
sacrificing patriotism ot 
the Roman Republic, 
and then, as Court 
painter to Napoleon, 
became the originator of 
the Neo-Greek " Empire " 
style. With Napoleon's 
victorious campaigns 
arose an important 
school of battle painters, 
of which Gros and Gerard 
were the leading spirits. 
But neither art nor 
literature flourished 

during the first Empire, 
and only after the 
Restoration the intel- 
lectual life of France 
began to flow again in 
many contending cur- 
rents. The first great 
battle was waged between 
Ingres, the head of the 

classicist school, who based his art on the 
imitation of the antique and perfect draughts- 
manship, and Delacroix, the leader of the 
Romanticists, a truly inspired artist, with a 
glowing sense of colour and a powerful imagina- 
tion. Then came the revolt of the Barbizon 
men. then the struggle of the freelight painters, 
and finally of the impressionists, whose aims 
have already been set forth in the article on 
" Landscape Art." 

Impressionism in France. 
impressionism has another aspect besides that 
of which Claude Monet is the chief exponent 
As conceived by such masters as Manet and 
Degas, it substitutes beauty of character for 
beauty of form, and turns the -attention of the 
artists to scenes of contemporary life. Classicism 
and academic art in general sail in lofty regions 
far removed from the bustle and strife of every- 
day life. The impressionists maintain, and 
frequently prove by their works, that the 
meanest subject is worthy of pictorial treatment 
if it is seen by the eye of an artist. As the 
word conveys, impressionism is concerned with 
tlu- impression of a scene, which can only be 
recorded in its completeness by summary 
suppression of all the details which cannot be 
grasped at a rapid glance. The academic painter 
loses the freshness of an impression by using his 
knowledge of the form of things to penetrate the 
mysteries of distance or deep shadow. The 
impressionist loses outline and form where they 
nn- lost in Nature, and thus attains greater 
verisimilitude. The academic painter, in 

treating the figure, loses the sense of movement 
through overcarefulness in drawing. The model 
is turned to stone, as it were, in the act of 
running, or wrestling, or dancing ; while the 
impressionist, sometimes through accentuation, 
which is not, strictly speaking, correct, or through 
the effacing of contours, often succeeds in con- 
veying an extraordinary suggestion of move- 
ment. Thus, in the ballet scenes by Degas, the 
dancers seem to be actually circling and pirouet- 
ting round the stage. As an example of Manet's 
work 'a reproduction is given of "A Bull 
Fight" [94]. 

Four Great Masters. Like the Pre- 
Raphaelites in England, the French impres- 
sionists had to fight a hard struggle before their 
views found acceptance, and there is no doubt 
that the extreme manifestations of impres- 
sionism frequently degenerate into absurdity and 
ugly caricature, and fully deserve the ridicule 
that has been heaped upon them. Yet it 
has remained one of the leading factors in 
modern art, not only in France but throughout 
Europe and America. Its influence has not 
always been beneficial, for the incompetent 
frequently sails under its flag to conceal lack of 
training and deficient 
d r a ughtsman- 
ship ; but on the 
other hand, it has 
enriched the world 
with the master- 
pieces of a Monet, a 
Manet, a Degas, and 
a Whistler. 

Century Art. In 
the rich artistic life 
of nineteenth cen- 
tury France, impres- 
sionism was only 
one, though the most 
important, phase. 
The academic school 
continued to flourish 
in the art of 
accomplished pain- 
ters like Meissonier, 
Bouguereau, Dela- 
roche, Fleury, and 
many others ; the 
Orientalists, who 
found their subject- 
matter in the sump- 
tuous picturesque- 
ness of the East, are 
chiefly represented by Decamps, Fromentin, and 
Marilhat ; decorative wall painting attracted 
masters like Puvis de Chavannes and, more 
recently, Besnard ; Bastien-Lepage stands at the 
head of the freelight painters ;. while the most 
recent group, the intimists, include Le Sidaner, 
one of the most fascinating artists of the present 

Rodin and Stevens. In sculpture, 
France took an uncontested lead during the 
nineteenth century. Rude (A.D. 1784-1855) was 


the fiist to return to the national tradition 
which the followers of Canova had forsaken 
for cold classicism. Barye (A.D. 1796 - 1875) 
stands unapproached as a sculptor of animals. 
Carpeaux, Fremiet, Dalou, and Falguiere 
must all be reckoned among the masters of 
their art. They all went to Nature for their 
inspiration, instead of continuing the imitation 
of the antique that was so prevalent in the early 
part of the century. Rodin, finally, achieved 
the introduction of something like impressionism 
in sculpture. Of the masters of the past, 
Donatello is the one with whom he shows the 
greatest affinity, though Rodin's style is entirely 
original and personal. Through the accentuation 
and amplification of certain planes, he not only, 
succeeds in suggesting movement, but a curious 
softening of the silhouettes, which makes his 
statues and groups appear as if they were bathed 
in atmosphere. Rodin, like all great reformers, 
met with bitter opposition, but to-day his pre- 
eminence in the field of sculpture is admitted by 
those who are most competent to judge. An 
example of his work is to be found on page 1675. 
In Belgium, Constantin Meunier has created, in 
stone and bronze, a mighty epos of Labour. His 


aims and achievements in sculpture are almost 
identical with Millet's in paint. The one great 
sculptor produced by England in the middle of 
last century was Alfred Stevens, whose Welling- 
ton Memorial in St. Paul's Cathedral is worthy 
to be placed beside the masterpieces of the 
sculptors of the Italian Renaissance. The last 
, decades of the century witnessed an important 
advance in plastic art, and English sculptors of 
to-day have little to fear from comparison with 
their Continental contemporaries. 

HISTORY OF ART concluded ; followed by GLASS 


Croup 15 


i -. -- 



\\v has.- already t..ll how the Moorish 

(1( , mml on Ml Spain wa.s > brought to an end m 

thl . ,, lLrll of lYnlmandll., and how Spam t 

Uvame. f,,r the filri time, one united sovereignty, 

:m(1(lMt . n;ltl()M:l |ny. iM-nlinand married Isabella 

,,!,, which marriage helped effectually to 

, h a , Hlllt thl . uni(m () f the two kingdom^ 

la was the sbter of Henry IV of C^ 

,, hia death most of the Castilian nobles 

,| to acknowledge the legitimacy of his 

daughter. Juana, and proclaimed Ferdinand 

Isabella rulers of Castile. A civil war 

fallowed in which Ferdinand was successful. 

Thr n-inn of Ferdinand was remarkable for 

In .mv e\ ents. He did much to restore peace and 

to the country, and to diminish the power ot 

Obie& In his reign occurred the discovery 

jnerioa by Christopher Columbus. There 

many W9XB and civil struggles during his 

time, and throughout his reign he was ably 

ted by thr celebrated Cardinal Ximenes, 

mm, 'indeed, practically thr ruler of Spain 

until the accession of Charles V. 

The Inquisition. Ferdinand's reign 

has, however, left a dark memory behind it 

because of his establishment of the Inquisition 

and the cruel persecution of the Jews and of 

..rish inhabitants who had remained 

in Spain, led to remain there by conditions 

piuiii.-ed but never made good to them. Isa- 

dird in l."><>4. and in the following year 

Ferdinand married a niece of Louis XII. of 

llr nilrd a- regent for his daughter, 

Juana who was insane on the death of her 

husband. M.not the King of the Netherlands, \vho 

iinand died in 1516. 

The d.-tiny of Spain \\as for a time greatly 

influenced by the fact that Charles V., Emperor 

led to the Spanish crown. 

"i-'iird t'rtim his father. Philip, the 

. Burgundy, and the Imperial 

thrum- ; while from hi> mother, the daughter of 

iniand and Isabella, he became heir to the 

iuler>hip of Spain. Naples, and Spanish America. 

charl'^. uho was born in 1500, went to Spam 

m l.'dT and was for a time joint ruler of the 

My with hi.- mother, who afterwards bc- 

ln l.Vju he was crowned Emperor 

mi. my. and soon after presided at the Diet 

tin Luther's opinions were 

16 he married Isabella, 

sister of .John III. of I'nrtiiL'al. 

:he European Continent SOOn 

became a scene tor the display of the rivalry 
Charle-, and Fian<i> 1. of France. 
i th<- I) -H-hv of Bur^undv and that 
of Milan, while the KiitL' maintained 


that lie -ua> th< .'ions. 


The war at first was a success for Charles. He 
had the support of Henry VIII. of England, and 
also of the Constable Bourbon, one of the most 
powerful subjects of the French King. Charles 
drove the French out of Italy, and invaded 
Provence. Soon after, the King of France was 
defeated and taken prisoner, as already related 
in our French history. No sooner was this 
accomplished than the alliance which was called 
the Holy League was formed against Charles by 
Pope Clement VII, who had as his allies Henry 
VUL, King Francis, and the Venetians. 

Imprisonment of the Pope. One event 
in the struggle which followed was that in 1527 
an army of Italians, Spaniards, and Germans, 
led by Bourbon, entered and occupied Rome, 
and imprisoned the Pope. Bourbon himself 
was killed in the attack upon the city. Charles 
disclaimed all part in the movement against 
Rome, and repudiated any sympathy with the 
imprisonment of the Pope. A peace was finally 
made the Peace of Cambrai in 1529, by the 
operation of which Charles became practically 
the ruler of Italy. It was then that, for the 
first time, he went to see and study Italy for 
himself, and he was crowned at Bologna a 
Emperor of the Romans and King of Lombardy. 
The struggles with France still went on, until 
in 1538 the new Pope, Paul III., the Sovereign 
of France, and Charles agreed to a truce for ten 
years. Among his other military and naval opera- 
tions, Charles found time to head in person a mari- 
time expedition against the celebrated corsair 
Barbarossa the pirates of the North African 
ports were then an incessant trouble to southern 
Europe. He completely subdued Barbarossa, 
and captured Tunis. A later expedition of his 
against other Algerian pirates was less fortunate 
in its results, for the fleet which he conducted 
was brought to complete wreck by heavy storms. 
The Triumph ot the Protestants. 
The league which Charles had made with the 
Papal Government aroused the Protestants 
into armed resistance of his power, but the 
two campaigns which followed proved unfavour- 
able to the arms of the Protestants, and a truca 
was agreed upon. But Charles's stern main- 
tenance of the terms he had imposed, and the 
severity with which he treated his prisoners, 
among w r hom were the Elector of Saxony and the 
Landgrave of Hesse, turned many of his own 
supporters against him, all the more because it 
was now clear that his ambition was to become 
absolute ruler of Germany. Maurice of Saxony, 
a Protestant, who had up to this time supported 
Charles, now turned against him, and proved 
himself so well supported that Charles was com- 
pelled to recognise the Protestant claims, and 
treaties were made which ended in the Peace 

of Augsburg in 1555. Charles was disappointed 
in some of his most cherished purposes by this 
and by other events, and he appears to have 
grown weary of rulership. He was breaking 
down in health, and suffering much pain, and 
in 1555 he resigned his position both as Emperor 
and as King, handing over the crown of Spain to 
his son Philip. He spent the remainder of his 
life in monastic seclusion at Yuste, where he died 
on September 21st, 1558. 

Don John of Austria, who afterwards made him- 
self famous by his wars against the Moors and 
against the Turks, was a natural son of Charles. 
In the great battle of Lepanto, October 7th, 1571, 
he conducted the combined fleets of Spain, 
Venice, Genoa, Malta, and Rome, defeated the 
whole arrayed naval power of the Turks near 
10 Corinth, and put, for the time, a complete 
etop to the aggressive movements of Turkey. 

Philip II. of Spain. Charles V. was suc- 
ceeded by his son, Philip II. of Spain, a sove- 
reign who made for himself a deep mark on the 
world's history. Philip was born at Valladolid in 
1527. In 1543 he married Mary of Portugal, 
who died three years after, and in 1554 he became 
the husband of Mary Tudor, Queen of England. 
The abdication of his father consigned to him 
a vast dominion, including Spain, the two 
Sicilies, Milan, the Low Countries, Mexico, and 
Peru. The resources of the State had been much 
exhausted by previous wars, and Philip had but 
little opportunity of making good these losses, 
even if he had been a sincere and capable econo- 
mist. The first war of his reign was made against 
the league formed by Henry II. of France and 
Pope Paul IV. Philip won two decided victories 
over the French, and Henry of France was com- 
pelled to agree to a peace. On the death of his 
wife, he married Isabella of France. 

" Dictator to Europe." Philip was a man 
of narrow mind, although of much political 
capacity, and ambitious of extreme power. His 
resolute aim was to reign as a despot over his 
own dominions, and to make himself a dictator 
to Europe in general. He put himself at the head 
of the Catholic party, and worked deliberately for 
the suppression of all free institutions within his 
own states. He made full use of the machinery 
established by the Inquisition for the purpose of 
extinguishing all religious sects throughout his 
territories ; but he overdid the work. In the Low 
Countries his tyrannical policy roused the whole 
people of the Netherlands to a revolt, which ended 
in the independence of that country. The great 
failure of Philip's life came from his extravagant 
attempt to conquer England. The destruction 
of the Spanish Armada is one of the memorable 
events of European history. His whole reign was, 
in fact, a series of failures which greatly increased 
his financial troubles at home, and his persecu- 
tions brought him enemies far and wide. His 
later years were a period of utter disappoint- 
ment, of breakdown in health and hope. He died 
on September 13th, 1598. With the revolt of 
the Netherlands and the defeat of the Spanish 
Armada, the history of Spain as a great, and 
sometimes a domineering, power in Europe may 
be said to have come to an end. 



The struggle for independence and the final 
success of the Netherlands gives to the history 
of Europe one of the most interesting and 
important of its chapters. That portion of the 
northern Netherlands known as Holland was 
governed for some centuries by a line of counts 
under the over-rule of the German sovereigns. 
It was annexed to Austria, and finally came undei 
the dominion of Philip II. of Spain. 

The Revolt of the Netherlands. 
The people of the Netherlands were among the 
earliest and the most resolute to join the Reform- 
ation, and Philip made merciless use of all the. 
forces of the Inquisition in the futile effort to 
coerce the indomitable Dutchmen into a renuncia- 
tion of their new faith. It is said that about 
100,000 human beings must have lost their lives 
during Philip's campaigns of persecution. The 
people of Holland were not, however, to be 
persecuted out of their religion or their nation- 
ality, and as Philip was evidently determined not 
to mitigate his policy, they saw that there was 
nothing left for them but to rise in rebellion. 
The leading men among the Dutch kept fiimly 
in their minds the fact that they had, as their 
last resource, an ally against which even the 
power of Philip II. could not contend the sea, 
which rose above the level of their shores, and had 
to be kept from washing over them by gigantic 
and elaborate dykes and other such artificial 
means of protection. In 1566 the Dutch nobles 
formed a confederation called " Les Gueux " 
("The Beggars"), a name which had its origin 
from an epithet given in contempt to a body 
of 300 deputies from the Low Countries, headed 
by two nobles, who ventured to present the 
petition for the abolition of the Inquisition in 
Holland and Belgium. This name, thrown out 
in scorn, was taken up by the deputies and 
accepted defiantly as their title. The peaceful 
deputation soon changed into a warrior band 
and made the name of the " Beggars " to ring 
in renown throughout Europe. 

William the Silent* One of the lead- 
ing men of that era was William Prince of 
Orange, who succeeded to large ' estates in 
Holland, and showed even in his earliest years 
so much military and statesmanlike capacity 
that he was appointed by Charles V. Commander- 
in-Chief of the Netherlands when only twenty- 
two. William is kn.own to all history as "Wil- 
liam the Silent." It is, however, certain that 
among other great qualities he was an accom- 
plished orator, who never failed to make use 
of his powers of speech when any great object 
was to be served. 

On one memorable occasion, in 1560, William 
was put in possession of a State secret by 
Henry II. of France, at a time when he was a 
hostage in Henry's dominions. This secret, 
which was a project concocted by France and 
Spain for the destruction of all the Protestants 
of France and of the Netherlands, was confided 
to him while hunting in the forest of Vincennes 
by the King of France, who assumed that the 
Prince of Orange, like most other men of rank 
at that time, had no sympathy with the 



William ot thrn 

'"llad^v'llLu entl .;''. I into y contro- 

ss a- i'j.-. >" k '"- that m ';r; 

1 to taken to prevent l.mi 

M t( , the intended policy i 

are, m absoli 
j,. t.i forewarn his countrymen am 

% >*^*^**S 

, v ,. persecutions started by Philip. 

J.,,1 all his offices of state and 

A , ( lhnM.r|famemberof the Protestant 

( l hm ,: h . rh ilip of Spain sent the Duke of Alvato 
the NYthe, lands at t he head of a large =army ,and 
ul , h unlimited power to mam tain the Govern- 
ment of Spain there. The Duke of Alva did his 
best to carry out the Kin* of Spain s wishes by 
merciless bloodshed. William was proclaimed 
a traitor by Alva, and as the whole country was 
now rising in revolt, the proclaimed traitor was 
at on,,- chosen by the Hollanders as their 
commander by sea and by land and under his 
guidance the revolt of the Netherlands was suc- 
cessfully carried on. Until the rising of the Gueux, 
the Spaniards had held unchallenged mastery 
over the N'ethe. lands, but from that time a revolt 
went on gaining in strength with every day. 

Union of the Northern Provinces. 
Tho union of all the northern provinces was 
thoroughly established in 1579. and in five years 
more the whole united Netherlands had re- 
nounced for ever their allegiance to the power 
of Spain. Much was yet to be accomplished 
before the absolute independence of the new 
state could be forced upon the recognition 
of Spain. The Dutch were determined to fight 
on to the last, and it was one of their resolves 
that, should the worst come, they would destroy 

dykes which kept out the sea. 
Long before the struggle had gone so far as 
to caU for such a policy of self-destruction, the 
gall.. ten had suffered a heavy loss by 

the death of their illustrious leader, William the 
Silent The Kiin,' of Spain, through the Duke of 
i, proclaimed William of Orange a traitor, 
and set a price upon his head the sum of 25,000 
gold CKW i a result of this measure an 

named Balthasar Gerards shot William 

-tol bought with money the Prince had 

given hi" killed him at Delf, on 

loth Us-!. Nothing can give better evi- 

nL'th cf the national cause and of 

-iasrn \\ith which William had inspired 

bin T :i than th;- fact that his death 

only seemed to nM\. thr [follamlrr>t<>fteshelWt. 

It in Knjzland for the 

\\hieli they were carrying 

" men \\eivM-nt to help 

;i..ny enemies for hei - 

throughout Kun.jM-. and Queen Kli/.al>eth of 

v to lend a helping Imnd 

h policy, although the 

rivalry Ix-tu -en the two great powers 

had in of i.p.-n war it 

WM goon to AHHUIII*-. The I hitch knew well h<m 

'nij^le. and how to avail 

FeottTe mannrr ,,f any 

h-|p oJT.-p-d t.. tin-ill. It ln-eaini- evident that 

there wan no possible moans of 
, )ut ,h once again to servitude 
of Spain. The northern provinc 
knds achieved their independence and thus 
became a new self-ruling European state. Those 
provinces of the Netherlands which we now 
know as Belgium remained for a time, under 
the dominion of Spain or of Austria. 


The German populations were, about the 
tenth century, forming themselves into some- 
thing like cohesive and powerful states, although 
many of them yet remained in a condition which 
show-ed uncertainty as to whether they were 
destined ultimately to form part of a people 
subject to a foreign power, or to lose their nation- 
ality by becoming absorbed into the dominions 
of some larger state. Austria, the name of which 
signifies "Eastern Kingdom," had undergone 
many invasions and occupations since the days 
when it was part of the Roman Empire. Charle- 
magne, in re-establishing the various states over 
which he had acquired dominion, made Austria 
a margraviate, ruled over by a margrave. Later 
on the margraviate was raised to a duchy, and 
still later to an archduchy. 

Frederick II., who reigned over the Empire of 
Germany from 1212 to 1250, was one of the most 
remarkable sovereigns of the Middle Ages. Witl 
his son Conrad, who reigned for four years, ended 
the Hohenstaufen line, and he was succeeded by 
many princes who ruled sometimes contem- 
poraneously during a period known as the Great 
Interregnum, which lasted till 1273, when 
Rudolf I. of the Austrian House of Hapsburg, 
came to the throne. For nearly two centuries 
from this time the history of the German Empire 
is but the record of a succession of rulers. 

Maximilian I. succeeded his father, Frederick 
IV., in 1493, and his marriage with Mary, 
daughter of Charles the Bold of Burgundy, 
involved Maximilian in European politics. He 
made many improvements in the laws and the 
internal affairs of the Empire originating the 
Imperial Chamber and the Aulic Council. 

The Reformation. In his reign began 
the Reformation movement, to which he was 
opposed, and the success of Luther's preaching, 
but the establishment of the Protestant religion 
in Germany did not take place until the reign 
of his grandson, Charles V, grandson also of 
Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, who reigned 
from 1519 to 1556. 

For a long time the Emperors of Germany re- 
tained also the title of Emperor of Rome, by 
which Charlemagne was crowned in 800, by 
Pope Leo III. Otho the Great, who was crowned 
by Pope John XII., in Rome, in 962, was the 
first who was called Sovereign of the Holy Roman 
Empire. The Empire, under its various denom- 
inations, was made up of all manner of European 
states enclosing within the one ruling system 
several different nationalities. Nor did these 
populations seem to be held together by any 
influence more successfully assimilating them 
than the strength of the German ruling power. 
For some time the Netherlands became part of 
the Empire of Austria by the marriage of the 

Austrian Prince Maximilian with the daughter 
of Charles the Bold, and not long after Spain 
became a dominion attached to Austria by th<; 
marriage of Philip of Spain with the heiress of 
Aragon and Castile. 


Helvetia, or Switzerland, after the rule of the 
Roman Empire had ended, was ravaged by the 
Huns, and in 450 was invaded by the Burgun- 
dians and the Alemanni. In the fifth century it 
was ruled by the Franks of the Merovingian line, 
and somewhere about this period many of the 
famous monasteries were founded. Much of 
what is now Switzerland was, in the Middle Ages, 
part of the Holy Roman Empire, and was there- 
fore, in the thirteenth century, under the rule of 
Rudolph of Hapsburg, the Sovereign of Austria, 

The men of some of the Swiss cantons, Uri, 
Schwyz and Unterwalden, early in the fourteenth 
century formed a league and covenant against 
the rule of Austria more, indeed, against the 
rule of the subordinates of the Emperor than 
against the Emperor himself and other cantons 
quickly joined the Eidgenossen (the confederates), 
as they were called. In 1307 three of the leaders 
of the confederates met by the Lake of Lucerne, 
and swore to free their country from the tyranny 
of Austria, and in the following years many other 
cantons joined the confederation. In 1315 they 
put to rout the army of Leopold of Austria. 
By the middle of the century most of the cantons 
had joined the confederates, and the Austrians 
were defeated in 1386 at Sempach, in 1388 at 
Nafels, and in 1393 the Swiss drew up the famous 
Convention of Sempach. 

In 1476 the Swiss encountered Charles the 
Bold on the French frontier. They defeated 
him at Grandson, and again at Morat, and in 
the following year, before the walls of Nancy, 
in which engagement Charles the Bold was slain. 

The Story of William Tell. The 
story of the Swiss uprising is so much associated 
with the name of William Tell that we will 
mention the legend here in passing. The story 
tells how Gessler, the representative of Albert II. 
of Austria, tried to compel the Swiss to do homage 
to the hat of the prince set up on a pole in Altorf ; 
how William Tell, refusing to offer this homage, 
was ordered to shoot an apple off the head of his 
son. Tell accomplished this feat without injur- 
ing his boy, but avenged himself by putting the 
village tyrant to death. Then broke out the 
movement which ended in securing the entire 
independence of Switzerland. 

In the sixteenth century the Protestant 
Reformation, led by Zwingli, arose in Zurich, and 
quickly spread over many of the northern or 
German cantons of Switzerland. Some of 
them, however, remained Catholic, and in 1531 
war broke out between the followers of the two 
faiths. Zwingli was killed, and the Zurichers were 
defeated at the Battle of Kappel. Four years 
later Geneva became a Republic with new civil 
and ecclesiastical laws, under Calvin, and after 
this Protestantism spread into the west of the 


country. During the Thirty Years War Zurich 
and Berne helped to maintain the neutrality of 
Switzerland, which was recognised as an in- 
dependent state by the Treaty of Westphalia 
in 1648. This independence Switzerland has 
ever since maintained. 


Hungary was first formed into a kingdom by 
Stephen in 1000. The title of " Apostolic King " 
was conferred on him by Pope Sylvester II. for 
his work in the spread of Christianity, and the 
crown he then received was worn by all kings 
of Hungary since. After his death in 1038, 
unsuccessful efforts were made to re-establish 
paganism. Stephen founded many religious and 
civil institutions the Ecclesiastical Organisation, 
the Municipal Councils, and the National Council 
afterwards the Diet of the State. 

In 1222, during the reign of Andrew II., the 
" Golden Bull," the Magna Charta of Hungary, 
was granted, and nine years later its privileges 
were much extended. Hungary was invaded by 
the Mongols in the reign of Bela IV., and German 
colonists were introduced by him, as the country 
had been much depopulated by the Mongol 
massacre. Andrew III., who died in 1301, was 
the last sovereign of the House of Arpad, and on 
his death the succession was contested. Seven 
years later, Charles Robert of Anjou became king, 
and reigned until 1342. He did much to improve 
the condition of his adopted country, and under 
his rule and that of his son, Louis the Great, 
Hungary took a high place among the nations. 

Matthias of Hungary. When Ladislaus 
Posthumus died, in 1457, he was succeeded by 
Matthias, the son of the great Hunyady the 
famous general whose life was one long crusade 
against the Turks. The reign of Matthias saw 
the greatest era in the history of Hungary. 
He went to war with Bohemia, and became 
king of it and of Moravia. He made war with 
Turkey, and regained the Southern Provinces 
which Turkey had held. In 1485, he made 
Vienna the capital of Hungary. 

Matthias was also renowned for his statesman- 
ship, his justice, and his encouragement of arts 
and letters. On his death the country was 
given over to internecine strife, and rapidly 
declined in prosperity. It was invaded by the 
Turks in the reign of Louis II., and Louis 
himself was killed. The crown was then con- 
tended for by John Zapolya and Ferdinand II. 
of Austria. As Ferdinand had the support of 
the Hungarian nobles, Zapolya had to renounce 
his claim, and Hungary thus came under the 
sway of the House of Hapsburg. Since that date 
the history of Hungary is connected with that 
of Austria. Under a succession of Austrian 
sovereigns there were many wars with Turkey, 
and much strife between the Catholic kings 
and their Protestant subjects. There were 
many risings, also, against Austrian rule, and 
these conditions lasted until 1825, when the 
National Diet, which was convoked by Francis I., 
opened a new era in the history of Hungary. 



Group 6 





.," ssx 

vv/K li iv.- >hown how 

seaman may rise in 
rom a second-class boy to com- 
minioned rank ; u- shall now proceed t 

how a boy more favoured with fortune s 
Knp rises from midshipman to Admiral of 
the Fleet. It will be observed that we deal 
m this nection only 
of the Service, the Paymaster 
dealt with in the Civil Servu 

TfftcLcy of the Naval Officer. 

To-day the cry of 


before a committee, not for an examination of his 
book knowledge, but so that the committee 

may have an opportunity of judging from his 
conversation and manner what sort of a boy 
he is, and whether he is likely to make a good 
officer when he is grown up. The candidate 11 
required to produce a certificate of : birth , or its 

,,{ ma -hiurrv that to know even a part 

, a Hf.- study. For a man who is to lead 

Mu-n. His,., the teaming in the habit of obedience 

dM-ipliw cannot begin too early. In the 

-vices, charges are sometimes 

.I that the training methods are inefficient, 

ili- living is extravagant. This, 

annot be said of the Navy, where the 

ote of naval education is thoroughness, 

\vhere economy of living is the watchword. 

, th- moment j- I >oy joins the training college 

he is Uught that itricl ;ittrntion to work is the 

M to promotion, and his allowance 

moony would compare badly with that 

of a |u>li<- sriiool boy of his own age. After 

In- rank of lieutenant, a young man 

>iy n.infortuhly <>n 1 vis pay. 

It must Tx' understood that at present the 

i>f two systems of education are 

in the Navy. Under the 

-v-i.-ui buy- .utrird for whatever branch 

of - tli.y fancied executive, Engi- 

Mn'inrs. The result was a race 

man excellent in his own 

:it. but knowing very little about the 

>.-rvice. To 

remedy tl ' tilings a new system has 

1 to produce a type of officer 

i|nvhen>ive knowledge and 

r >ytnpathif>. The nye of entry has hr-n 
a boy must decide 
ML' In- pi-cparatory school 
that he desirai to enter the N'.i\y. 

The Preliminary Examination. The 

( in- Collruc. To he 
pure Klirop an 

de* -he >on of natural born British 

ii.ih-rd in the I'nited 

An application for nomination should 

--eel to the prr, MV of the 

!i-l -h.mid not be 

is old. On 

:iin t'he First Lord, 

..niivd to present himself 

the master of the school or schools at which he 
has been educated for the two previous years, 
and proofs of good health and freedom from 
constitutional disease or hereditary taint of any 
kind A severe medical inquiry has to be faced, 
and then the qualifying examination, which 
embraces the following subjects : 

ENGLISH: Dictation, simple composition and 
reproduction of the gist of a passage read twice 
by the examiner. 

HISTORY AND GEOGRAPHY: The whole outline, 
with special reference to the British Empire. 

MATHEMATICS: Arithmetic (simple), including 
decimals, fractions, mensuration of area and 
capacity, money, proportion, etc. Algebra, up 
to simple and simultaneous equations. Practical 
geometry (angles and constructon of angles, 
squares, parallelograms, and division of straight 
lines into equal parts). Theoretical geometry 
(definitions, the substance of theories contained 
in Euclid Book I, propositions 46, 8, 1316, 
18, 19, 2630, 32 34, and very simple deductions 
from these). 

FRENCH OR GERMAN: Simple examination, 
with great stress on the viva voce part. 

LATIN : Easy passages for translation, English- 
Latin and Latin-English, and simple grammatical 

Specimen examination papers can be obtained. 
Cost of Training. This examination 
successfully passed, the lads have to present 
themselves in uniform at Portsmouth Dock- 
yard on the appointed day, and are taken 
across to Osborne by a Government launch. 
Here the foundation of the life-work is laid. 

Beyond the cost of the kit, which consists of 
bed-linen and towels as well as clothes, the cost 
to the parent is at the rate of 75 per annum in 
three (advance) instalments of 25. Over and 
above this, to cover the miscellaneous expenses, 
such as washing, instruments, books, sports, and 
pocket-money, another 8 per term should be 
expended. In a few cases the Admiralty allow 
the sons of officers in the Army, Navy, or civil 
servants under the Admiralty to enter at a 
i educed payment of 25. 

Osborne College. The Naval School at 
Osborne is organised on the lines of the best 
]iul)lic schools, special attention being directed 
to tit the cadet for his eareer, not only as a skilful 

seaman, but also as an officer and a gentleman. 
Examinations are held at the end of every term, 
and should a cadet fail to satisfy the Lords of 
the Admiralty his parents may be asked to 
withdraw him at any time. A declaration of 
willingness to do this has to be signed at the time 
of the boy's joining, together with a declaration 
of willingness that the boy shall enter that branch 
of the Service for which he may seem to be best 
fitted, whether engineering, marine or general 
executive. At Osborne, a splendid workshop has 
been fitted up, and the cadets spend quite half 
of their time hi practical and theoretical work 
connected with engineering or in studies closely 
bearing upon it. There is a ship attached to 
Osborne in which the cadets go for cruises 
lasting six weeks for practical instruction in 
seamanship. Physical education also is well 
looked after. 

Dartmouth College. After two years, 
the cadet passes on to Dartmouth College for 
another two years, to complete his preliminary 
studies. The course of this four years' training 
has included the study of mathematics, mechanics, 
heat and electricity, the theory and practice of 
engineering ; English and French composition 
and literature, together with some German ; 
history and geography, navigation, and the 
elements of seamanship ; religious knowledge ; 
physical education. The cadet at Osborne has 
already had a course lasting some six weeks, 
and, leaving Dartmouth, he goes to a training 
cruiser for more practical instruction in naviga- 
tion, seamanship, and engineering than can be 
obtained ashore. Until he reaches the rank of 
sub-lieutenant his parents are required to make 
him an allowance of 50 a year. 

Midshipman. At the end of two terms on 
the training cruiser he is drafted with a batch of 
youngsters of his own seniority to a sea-going 
ship as midshipman. This, however, does not 
mean that his education is complete. True, he 
is no longer under a civilian instructor but he 
devotes his whole time to learning his professional 
duties under one or other of the officers, about 
one-third of his days being spent in the engineer- 
ing section. On completing three years' service 
as a midshipman, a serious examination has to 
be passed for acting sub-lieutenant in seaman- 
ship and practical engineering ; he attends the 
next examination in navigation and general 
subjects, and he attends short courses of gunnery, 
torpedo work, and pilotage at the depots, each 
of which is followed by an examination on the 
work studied in the course. Those who show 
aptitude and special ability are then allowed to 
go through a further and more comprehensive 
course, lasting six months, at Greenwich Naval 
College, which fits them for specialising in any 
particular branch. 

The sub-lieutenants who do not qualify for 
the extra course are immediately sent to sea, 
and are joined by the Greenwich students at 
the completion of their course. Sub-lieutenants 
must serve at sea for at least one year before 
being promoted to lieutenant, and must obtain 
from their captain a certificate that they are 
efficient in the duties of officers of the watch. 


Under the new scheme of education the lads 
who have all been trained under the same system 
are now apportioned to the branch for which 
they are most fitted, and they become specialists 
in engineering, in gunnery, torpedo, or naviga- 
tion, being denoted by the letters E, G, T 
and N, while some go to the Marines, whom we 
shall call M. The rest become general service 
lieutenants, available specially for watch-keep- 
ing, discipline, and seamanship. 

Lieutenant. On promotion to lieutenant, 
the dividing line comes. Officers for gunnery go 
to Portsmouth for a year ; for torpedo work, to 
the Vernon Torpedo School ; for navigation to 
Greenwich ; for engineering to Keyham, to 
increase their practical knowledge and to study 
dockyard work and repairs. Lieutenants (M) 
go to one of the Marine divisions to learn their 
special military duties. 

Of these specialists a few of the best are 
allowed a further course of instruction to fit them 
for the higher grade of lieutenant, which, for 
the sake of clearness, will be called G 2, T 2. 
For these the higher course lasts for one year 
while for E 2 the course is two years. Of the 
general service lieutenants a few are selected 
for instructional purposes and undergo a short 
course to fit them for their work. 

Branches of the Service. Now it has 

been explained how the lads trained together 
in the same system as far as the rank of 
lieutenant have been broken up into three 
main divisions engineers, Marines, and what 
we shall call, for want of a better term, 
general executive officers, which divisions have 
been subdivided into specialists and non- 
specialists. It remains to be shown what these 
young men will do with their careers. Will 
the specialists continue as specialists to the 
end of their days, or do they foster the hope of 
one day commanding a fleet ? for it is still open 
to the engineer to revert to the main channel 
and go through the ordinary course of promo- 

In exceptional cases, it is possible for the 
lieutenant (E2) to revert, but it is most un- 
usual, and indeed, undesirable, for he is throwing 
away his special education and his chance of 


One Year. 

One Day. 

s. d. 

s. d. 

Colonel Commandant . . 




293 16 1 

16 1 



337 12 6 

18 6 


220 10 5 

12 1 



266 2 11 

14 7 

Lieutenant . . 

115 11 8 




135 7 1 


Second Lieutenant 

95 16 3 



173 7 6 




282 17 6 

15 6 

quicker promotion. He will, therefore, look 
to the engineer branch to provide his fortune, 
and he will rise in the ordinary course to com- 
mander (E2), captain (E2). And although he 



KU ., p, ,,,v 01 V" "AN** OF 01T1CKKS IN Tin, N A\ Y 

. illlUI. 

,1 of the Ftort 

.1 .. 

,iif ttteftMl 
Captain .... | 




.1 II 

10W o o 

410 12 6 
602 & 

8. d. 

d d 

1 2 

1 13 

With Table moiu-y vjiryiiiK 
| betw* :> (1 x l)4 '- 

ai-conliiiK to s at ion ami t 
1 an. ..nut of entertaining re- 

} quired. 

(With command money vary- 
iMH fr. ' annum to 
ms.. according to rank, 
uui circunot u 

( o.mnan.l money when com- 

under .. 



1 mainline a *liip. or on M''''^' 1 


' Command money. <L4f> 12*. int. 
t,, 'tis ss. -.'.I. Senior Lieinen- 

Ueutrnant. n 

1-2 1" o 


: ,ut of a sliip. 27 7s. M. to 
i.nnnery or Tor- 

.re [ 


17 d 

pedo Lieutenants. 30 10s. to 
73. X:i\iiMitini: Lieutenant. 

n.-. ik. r.,i. to vn. 

pro- | 

QlOtlHt trdll ''Hi'- 

91 5 

.1 l.i n 


\ .\,v,.nliim to seniority. Kxtra 

i allowances tor ipeetalote, 
Command money 36 10s. per 

M lii*lil Mil III 

31 18 



18 6 


ki.kMii.-.r K-ar Ad- 





638 15 

1 15 

Engineer Captain | 




1 4 


.. c..miir.mdiT j 



1 13 

Extra pay 


1-2 10 
365 D 


1 .1 (1 

i AccurdiiiR if in charge 
to of engines. 
1 M-nioritv. t!8 5s. to 


17 6 

7 I) 

91 5s. 

*MM |- lM in * n. mi 
pro- j 
moted from war- 1 
rant rank I 

12 6 

14 6 
16 6 

^ According 


1 seniority. ; 

Chaplain or In- / 




4'l 1" ii 

1 2 

IitMwrtor-Ueneral of 



492 15 


urgron .. < 




1 16 










to o 


siirgmn . . . 



310 5 


will go to sea from tim<> to tiim- to ktvp in tourh 
. ti ( -;il rnniiUH'ring. tlio Admiralty 

Mill !H' nl. u I to make use of his sorvuvs :\slunv 
ranks of th<- ilorky.ini ;ul\ 
>tnr caos, will - 

tivt- and U- amM/mtrd rotn- 

nirn : for hr \> to-ilay not 

>it hr i;vn also take his 

lal dutuvs 

< >n tin- "tlin h.itul. li-- may qualify 

for commander (M) and tlx-n n-\ it to > aptain 

\ third |M>ssil>ility. of 

thrn\M-l\(-s. iv t> < ontinno 

dbcharpng the duties of M um<- <'.>!nmand<>r, 

and look lor promotion it\ tin- Marim^ to tlu> 

hifber rank . ij,.i- (M), and 


The Ladder of Promotion. For tin 

^eaerml nervi.. lu-utcnants. there i- 
a long, weary wait t..i thru n. | \\\,-\ 

five years' srrviiv in the 
rank the officer has to 
in examination in 

naval law. court-martial, 
naval history, strategy and 
tactics, besides the examin- 
ation in the general pro- 
fessional subjects. In due 
course his turn for pro- 
motion comes and he i.- 
promoted to commander, 
probably in ten or twelve 
years, ft must not be sup 
posed that the time has 
been monotonously spent. 
He has been changing from 
ship to ship, has been in 
torpedo boats, destroyers, 
cruisers and battleships, and 
has served at home and 
abroad. He has attended 
qualifying and requalifying 
courses and has every year 
been learning something of 
the management of ships, of 
guns and of men. So that 
at about the age of thirty- 
tive he is a man of wide 
knowledge and experience 
besides having passed about 
twenty severe examinations. 
Another four to six yearn 
as commander should see 
him promoted to captain, 
though still he has not 
completed his education, 
but must go to Greenwich 
to learn the higher teach- 
ings of strategy. In the 
end he is promoted at last 
to admiral after eleven to 
fifteen years in command 
of ships. 

AYe have not yet touched 
upon two i m por t ant 
branches of the Service the medical and the 
clerical. They are. however, of purely technical 
interest, and are open only to men who have 
already received a special education. It suffices, 
therefore, to say that a proof of professional 
knowledge must be produced in the form of 
a degree, and that promotion is gained by 
seniority tempered by a certain amount of 
selection. l>ocior> enter as surgeons and rise 
through staff-surgeon to fleet -surgeon : and 
there are one or two good appointments for 
the fortunate lx>th at home and abroad. 

For chaplains there is little promotion in the 
ordinary sense, but their pay increases by 
length of service : and there are a few livings 
a>hore Monging to the Admiralty which are 
given to men who have been naval chaplains 
as a reward for good service. The pay of a 
chaplain or naval instructor ranges between 
t'Jl'.i and UtM IDs. p rr annum. 

Army n 


Apparatus used in Chemical Analysis. Qualitative and Quanti- 
tative Analysis. Examinations and Confirmatory Tests 

Group 5 


Continued from 
page 431! 


TTHE word analysis is derived from t he (J reek 
dvaXvu (analuo), to loosen ; and, like so 
many general terms of this description, can be 
used in several different senses. 

In a chemical sense we refer to the loosening 
or breaking down of a substance, or mixture of 
substances, into their ultimate constituents ; just 
the reverse of what is understood by synthesis, 
which means the building up of a substance from 
simpler constituents. The meaning which we 
shall attach to the words Chemical Analysis in 
this article is somewhat narrower. We shall 
break down or resolve substances merely for the 
purpose of ascertaining of what they consist 
and in what proportions the constituents are 
present. Put shortly, the objects of a chemical 
analysis are ( 1 ) the identification of a substance, 
(2) the detection of the components in a mixture 
of substances. (,'>) the determination (estimation) 
of the amounts in which they are present. 

Qualitative and Quantitative Work. 
Thus, supposing we are analysing a silver coin, 
we might be required to identify the metal of 
\vhich the coin is made, in this case silver ; 
secondly, to detect the presence of other sub- 
stances, such as copper ; and thirdly, to estimate 
the quantities of silver and copper alloyed 
together in the com. The identification and 
detection of substances and mixtures are opera- 
tions which naturally precede the estimations of 
the proportions in which they are present. We 
may, therefore, regard analysis as comprising two 
branches, qualitative, and quantitative. We shall 
start, with the qualitative analysis, in which we 
"convert the unknown constituents of a body 
into certain known forms of combinations ; and 
we are thus enabled to draw correct inferences 
respecting the nature of these unknown con- 
stituents " (Frcsenius). 

In what follows, the student will find given an 
outline of some of the more important methods 
of analysis, which will enable him to form a 

reral idea of how such analyses are performed, 
some cases, methods of analysis are fully 
described, but in most cases it has been found 
impossible to do this. For full details the 
student may consult the " Qualitative and 
Quantitative Analysis" of Fresenius, and the 
" Volumetric Analysis " of Sutton. These are the 
standard works on the subject, and on them 
most of the smaller treatises are based. The 
student may also consult Clowes and Coleman, 
who have compiled useful textbooks on both 
qualitative and quantitative analysis. The 
latter, with which we are well acquainted, is a 
particularly useful book for the student. The 
theoretical side of analysis is beautifully worked 
out in Ostwald's wi Analytical Chemistry." No 

amount of reading can, however, replace practical 
work in the laboratory ; and, in doing accurate 
work, there are numerous precautions to be 
taken and difficulties to be overcome, which will 
not be realised merely by reading these articles, 
and which are met with only in actual practice. 
We have, however, where possible, drawn the 
student's attention to the more obvious pitfalls, 
and with some personal instruction he should, 
without much difficulty, be capable of carrying 
out those analyses where full details are given. 

Theoretical Considerations. Sub- 
stances are identified by their properties which 
appeal to our senses. It is, of course, impossible 
to take all these properties into consideration, 
but if we prove that two substances agree 
completely in a few instances, it is usually 
sufficient. Thus, a black solid giving purple 
vapours when heated and a blue colour with 
starch paste is almost certainly iodine. Wo. 
know of no other substance coinciding in all these 
three properties with iodine, and may therefore 
take these coincidences as sufficient proof of 
identification. On the other hand, we are 
acquainted with several white solids which give 
colourless vapours, and to distinguish between 
them we must note other of their properties. 
By taking as wide a range as possible, we reduce 
the possibility of error. The properties we make 
use of are of two kinds : first, the inherent 
properties those peculiar to the substance 
itself, such as colour, odour, density (mass per 
unit volume) ; secondly, what for want of a 
better word, we may term reactions that is, those 
changes brought about by treating with other 
substances, as well as those due to changed 

Reactions. The second class is the more 
important for our purpose and includes a wider 
and more varied range of phenomena, among 
which is included the chemical and physical 
reactions. By these we understand changes 
brought about by altering the conditions under 
which the body exists. Thus, in identifying 
iodine, we obtained it in the form of a purple 
vapour by changing one condition namely, 
temperature. By varying the temperature and 
noting the behaviour of the substance under 
examination, a great deal of information may be 
gained, and the applicability of this method is 
further extended by using instruments (ther- 
mometers) for accurately measuring temperatures. 
In addition to observing a change in the state of 
aggregation say, from solid to liquid on raising 
the temperature, we may note the exact tempera- 
ture at which the change takes place (melting 
point). This principle is one of those most 
commonly used in identifying organic substances. 



Num.-, ....... (tohrt ..... - m,.J,. ' .-ii,.!.;.."! . W 

dtaolviii* thn.i 

water, on ** 


,, | 

m ,oluble ... Watef ll"' prcc.p.a.e. wfc 
' m a lincly divided 



on one 

Precipitates, and What They Teach. 

W8 reuuire . . e 

k | 



,' of 

iV test-tube 
stand [I] to 
hold them, 
some \\atch- 

i;!a>M l s [2] 

ii.d Mining n-ds. a platinum \\ire and Bunsen 

burner |3] and a >.-t of reagenta that fe, 

! M.lManccs usually in solution, which 
bring abOttl characteristic re- 
with the substances 
which we are toting. In addi- 
tion, a funnel and tiller paper 
will IK> ivquired. Fig. 4 shows the ditTerent 
shapes in folding a filter paper ami fitting it 
tunnel Tin- most common method, and 
ner.tlly applicable. i> to add the 
reagent to a solution of the substance to be toted. 
it uh< th.-r or not a pivipitate is formed. 

: ut ion of hydrochloric a--id added 

\ersalt. produces a white precipitate 

!\er chloride. \->. however, hydro- 

a white precipitate ' 

with other >ulta'i. M I c-idr- >ilver salt- - 
>alt> of mercury (mercur- 

ous) und I. .id it is usually neco^ary to examine 

further in order to make cor- 

ib-tanec is what \\e imagine 

Ahitf piecipitates formed from 

. ditVcr in their 

il.NtniLiui-h lietwecn 

il.e lead compound known as 

Itad chlt>i 'uble m hot water, sepa- 

1 jisjam on eonling. in tiny needlc- 

\ -t.iU Th<- lead ehl.)nd<- precipitate 

i- -~n in 7 I'. .ii_ heavy, it rapidly settles to 

l-'iU. 8 Allows the 

nn.-d by (ii^s,.l\ ing in 

land. It is n..t 

Idin^ ammonia to it. 

"I' 1 inrivuioii- chloride i^ 

nt. and -ilvcr 
W i->ible. tl,. 

.ipplynii: 111.- 
u -olutioii miL'ht 


by tillm- thr t.-t tnl-r with 
Ml,- to the 

bottom !i- ,,n the 

""some saKstoncea vehen heated with acids 

,. v , Ive gaieB, and this property -nay be ntatl.- 

3T5!! analvheal WOlk. Thus carbona es. 

, eh H Sialk, U- Off carbon dioxide gafl when 

n,. ted with h^roohlorio acid Here also, itfa 

1V ,0 go a step further and to 
''- happens that sulphides also give o,T 
, t , when treated with hydroehlorie acul : but 
thegaseshavcdilTerent properties. 1 h us. carl on 
aioxide uas may be poured oil ,nto a, test tube 
ooataining lime water, when a prec.pHate of 
calcium carbonato will bo formed on shaking the 
lu.uid up with the gas. It is, moreover, odourless 
On the other hand, sulphuretted hydrogen has a 
p.-cnliar olTensive odour, and producee a inetallu 
stain on a piece of filtered paper saturated with 
a .solution of the silver or lead salt. 

Insoluble Substances and Pre- 
liminary Work. Sometimes substances 
are insoluble in water and acids, and appear 
to be very inert. The identification of these 
M.bstanees' is ditlicult. However, as there is 
only a limited numlwr of them, their individual 
properties can be learnt, and they must be tested 
for separately. Of course, the identification of 
simple substances such as simple salts is a 
much easier operation than the detection and 
identification of a number of substances mixed 
together. As, however, in technical work 
pure substances are seldom met with, a tech- 
nical chemist has to deal with mixtures even 
though some of the constituents 
are present in small quantities 
as impurities. The reactions of 
ditTerent substances with reagents 
ha\e been carefully studied and 
tabulated, so that' a systematic 
examination may be made, it is 
usual, however, 'before proceeding 
with the systematic examination, to make a 
preliminary examination, which often fur- 
nishes valuable clues to the nature of the 
substance. .V- we have already shown, any 
property of a substance, and any reaction in 
which 'it is capable of taking part may be 
made u>e of for its detection and identi- 
fication, so that a knowledge of analysis, 
and a knowledge of general chemistry go hand 
in hand, and it is therefore impossible to be 
an expert analyst without a wide knowledge of 
chemical reaction^. 

Group Reagents. In the course of 
>v>tcmatie analysis it will be fount I that hydro- 
chloric acid produces a white precipitate with 
silver, mercury or lead, owing to the formation 
of the chlorides of these metals, and as they 
In-have alike in this respect, and ditier from the 

H-iia\e aiu\e in inis respecu ami tinier iiom ui 
salts of all other metals, they are classed together 
in Croup 1. of \\hich hydrochloric acid is the 
tup reagent." If no precipitate is obtained, 
the student passes on to (Iron}) 'J, of which 
sulphuretted hydrogen is the group reagent. 
This form- a precipitate with the salts of all 

.actals iu (Jroup 2; the other groups have their 
ixirresponding group reagents. 

Observation and Experiment. It is 

not possible lo proceed mechanically in making 
;iii analysis, as (lie general rules which we shall 
give are modified by varying conditions. Even 
in the detection of simple salts the student 
may make serious errors unless he reason out 
his methods carefully, and take the trouble 
to understand thoroughly what he is doing. 

We remember that on one occasion a student 
was given a yellow-coloured solution to test smell- 
ing somewhat of sulphuretted hydrogen. Taking 
no notice of these 
data, he proceeded 
Mindly to test for 
metals of the first 
group by adding 
hydrochloric acid, 
and, obtaining a 
whitish precipi- 
tate, immediately 
concluded that a 
salt of silver, mer- 
cury, or lead was 
present. If he had 
thought a moment, and taken trouble to 
examine the precipitate, he would have seen 
that it differed totally in appearance from 
the chlorides of any of these metals. As a 
matter of fact, lie had been given a solution of 
an alkaline sulphide to identify, and the hydro- 
chloric acid added neutralised the alkali, precipi- 
tating sulphur, which he mistook for the chloride 
of a metal of ( iroup 1. The sulphur precipitate is 
seen in 5 ; its appearance may be contrasted with 
6 and 7. The incident mentioned was a very 
obvious case of want of care in observation and 
lack of knowledge or forethought ; but similar 



the reagent if a precipitate be not immediately 
apparent. Some precipitates, such as sulphate 
of calcium or strontium form slowly. Others, as 
aluminium hydroxide, are very transparent and 
gelatinous in appearance, and may easily be 
missed. The precipitate of aluminium hydroxide 
becomes denser and settles on boiling [9]. When 
a precipitate is formed, its appearance should 
be noted before throwing it away. Thus, it 
is advisable to replace the test tubes in the 
stand until the condition of the precipitate is 
properly understood and carefully noted. The 
appearance of precipitates varies very much. 
Thus, a flocculent, 
or "clotty" pre- 
cipitate of silver 
chloride [6] is very 
characteristic, and 
easily distinguish- 
able from a fine, 
granular one, such 
as sulphate of 
barium [12J. After 
boiling, the preci- 

AND FILTER PAPER pitate settles more 

readily [11J. When 

heating the contents of a test tube in a Bunsen 
flame, the tube should be held with the mouth 
pointing away from the operator, and the tube 
constantly shaken ; there will then be less likeli- 
hood of cracking the tube, and if the contents 
boil suddenly and spurt out, as they sometimes 
do, there is less danger of them striking the face. 
With these remarks, we proceed with the 
preliminary examination. 

Preliminary Examination. The sub- 
stance is assumed to be in a solid state. Note 
the colour and general appearance. Many 
metals have coloured ions and form characteris- 


5. sulphur 6. Silver chloride precipitate washed 7. Lead chloride freshly precipitated 8. Lead chloride 

it-crystallised 9. Aluminium hydroxide 10. Silver chloride freshly precipitated 11. Barium sulphate after boiling 

12. Barium sulphate before boilin.u 

tically coloured salts for instance, copper, blue 
and green ; cobalt, blue and pink ; ferrous iron. 
green ; ferric iron, red to brown ; chromium, 
yellow to red. Mercury, lead and some other 
metals give characteristically coloured com- 
pounds, while those formed from others, such as 
aluminium, barium, etc., are generally white. 

Heat a little in a dry tube, preferably a narrow 
hard-glass tube, but a test tube will do, and note 
what happens. 

The following conclusions may be drawn: 
(1) If it changes colour to black (carbonisa- 
tion), organic matter ; to brown, cadmium 


things can happen, and happen more easily in 
dillicult analyses, if the student does not under- 
stand thoroughly what he is doing. 

Hints lor Practical "Work. When 
working in the laboratory only small quantities 
need he used, both of the substance to be ter-ted 
and of the reagent. ]f a quantity of the liquid 
to be tested sufficient to fill the test tube to a 
depth of in. or so be taken, that will be ample. 
Compare 5 to 12. The reagent should be 
added gradually, especially in the case of strong 
acids. The contents of a test tube should not 
be thrown down the sink directly after adding 


carbonate; to yellow (while hot), zinc u.nde or 

If it >ublimes, note colour and appear- 
ance of sublimat.- that is the substance that 
condenses from the fumes. The .sublimate may 
be white, ammonium wits, mercury, untimony 
or argenic; metallic- mirror or globules, menmry, 
areni< : yellow or n-ddish globules of molten 
sulphur, .<"'/'""'. xiiljthides. 

' off a gas, these conclusions may 


Oxygen, chlorates, nitrates, and peroxides ; 
n monoxide, nxalates; carbon dioxide, 
nntr*; nitrogen peroxide, nitrnli* ; am- 
1:1, ,IH '<m sails; sulphur dioxide, sul- 

phite*, thiosulphates ; sulphuretted hydrogen, sul- 
phides : hydrocyanic acid <//,/ // idt* ; chlorine, hypo- 
chlorite* ; chlorine peroxide, chlorate*. The gases 
identified by their projx-rties and reactions. 
Warm a little of the substance in a dry test 
tube with strong sulphuric acid, and note if 
a gas be given off. The following conclusions can 
l>e drawn according to the nature of the gas : 

Sulphur dioxide, sulphites, thiosulphites ; sul- 
phuretted hydrogen, sulphides ; hydrocyanic 
>des ; oxygen, chromates, peroxides, 
permanganates ; carbon dioxide, carbonates ; 
carbon monoxide, oxalates, formates, ferrocya- 
-. < -hlorine, hypochlorites ; chlorine peroxide, 
chlorates ; hydrochloric acid, chlorides. 

It is often stated that sulphuric acid acts 
in this manner in virtue of its strength. Being 
i ronger acid " than, sny, sulphurous acid, 
said to be capable of turning this latter 
acid out of its combination with a metal 
nuch AS .sodium, forming sodium sulphate, 
and liberating sulphur dioxide gas. This 
is not correct. Sulphuric acid is certainly 
one of the " strongest " acids, but it is not in 
\irtue of its "strength" that it acts in the 
manner above described, but Una us. it is more 
stable, and less volatile than sulphurous acid. 
Sulphuric acid is itself turned out of combination 
by the "weaker but less volatile phosphoric 

Flame Tests. A number of metallic salts 

impart to a colourless Bunsen flame a character- 

i'>n. It is necessary that the salts 

should be volatile, and the reaction is usually 

d out by Mu.iMciiint: a little of the solid 

Kubrtancc with hydrochloric acid on a watch- 

gUww, dipping a platinum wire into it, and holding 

D the llame. The platinum u ire must 

roughly cleansed Mo re use by repeatedly 

dipping int.. pure hydrochloric acid and holding 

i' until it no longei shows a reaction^ 

I he toUowinf is a list of the more characteristic 

-alts, violet; 

* 0fMMI1 >s "tin m salts, bright 

rriniHun ; /n,/ w '* 

In addition t., these ;i y , V i-ii colour is obtained 
xvlt '' H 'ind manganttemtot. 

f theM- mbffcancei may l.e de- 

ng .-, Bpectroecope, which' reeolrea 

Of ((.loured l,.,n.U tl, r 

fi intensity of each being characteristic 
. th.-suhst.un. under examination. 

The Blowpipe. For blowpipe analysis 
the student should be provided with an ordinary 
mouth blowpipe [13], in the use of which he will 
]((, uirc some little practice before he is able to 
handle it properly. The airholes of the burner 
should be closed, so that a small luminous flame 
is obtained. The nozzle of the blowpipe is placed 
in the centre of the flame, resting on the top of 
the burner, and, on blowing steadily, a long, 
pointed, non-luminous, very hot flame will be 
produced. The flame consists of two zones an 
outer, almost colourless at the tip, termed the 
oxidising flame, and an inner, or blue zone, termed 
the reducing flame. For an explanation of the 
terms oxidation and reduction, see page 
1295. A little of the substance to be tested 
is mixed with carbonate of soda, and placed in a 
..mall hollow in a lump of charcoal. The reducing 
flame of the blowpipe is then directed on to it, 
with the result that if silver, lead, bismuth, or 
antimony be present, tiny globules, or beads, of 
these metals will be produced. If a little 
potassium cyanide be mixed with the potassium 
carbonate, tin and copper salts will also be reduced 
to metallic beads. Iron is also reduced . to a 
metal by this treatment, but the temperature is 
not high enough to fuse it. The resulting metal- 
lic powder is magnetic. The same applies to 
nickel and cobalt. The salts of zinc and cadmium 
yield in each case the corresponding oxide, which 
is white in the case of zinc, and brown in the case 
of cadmium. If compounds of zinc, aluminium, 
and magnesium be first heated on charcoal in 
the blowpipe flame, and then moistened with 
a solution of cobalt chloride, and finally re- 
heated, -the mass turns green in the case of zinc 
compounds, blue with aluminium, and pale pink 
with magnesium. Certain phosphates also give 
a blue colour. 

Borax Beads. If the end of a piece 
of platinum wire be bent into a small loop, 
heated in the flame, and dipped into powdered 
borax, a little of the latter will adhere to the 
wire, and may be fused to a colourless bead in 
the blowpipe flame. Small quantities of metallic 
salts impart the following characteristic colours 
to these beads when reheated : 

Blue, cobalt and copper ; green, chromium ; 
yellow, iron ; amethyst colour, manganese. 

Theory of Solution. Most of the tests 
we have so far considered belong to the class 
of "dry reactions." In the systematic examina- 
tions we depend on "wet. reactions" that 
is to say, tests made with solutions both of 
the " reagent " and the substance to be tested. 
It will be as well before proceeding with the 
systematic examination to consider the form 
in which substances exist in solution, and the 
chemical mechanism involving the formation of 
a precipitate, in order that what follows may be 
better understood. All substances belong to 
one of two classes they are either crystalloids 
or colloids, although a substance can appear 
in both forms. [See PHYSICS.] The wet 
(actions we are about to consider apply 
only to crystalloids. If a substance appear in 
a colloided form (silica, some metallic sulphides, 
hydroxides of iron and alumina, and other 

bodies have this tendency) we must treat it in 
such a manner as to alter its condition [see 
Analysis of Silicates], because only crystalloids 
form true solutions. 

Acids, bases, and metallic salts, when dis- 
solved in water, are more or less split up (disso- 
ciated) into their components (ions), and it is by 
an interchange of ions that precipitates are 
formed. Berzelius, the Swedish chemist, origi- 
nated a dual theory of the constitution of 
chemical substances ; but since his day the dual 
theory has been considerably modified, and 
the modern theory of electrolytic dissociation 
explains in a truly marvellous manner the 
numerous chemical reactions with which we have 
to deal. It will suffice if we confine ourselves to 
the following essentials, leaving out all reference 
to electrolysis and kindred subjects. 


It will be noticed that the kation hydrogen is 
characteristic of the acids, and the anion hydroxyl 
of the bases. On mixing together an acid and 
a base in solution the hydrogen of the acid com- 
bines with the hydroxyl of the base to form water 
H 4- OH >- H 2 0, which is not dissociated 
(or so slightly so that we can leave it out of 
account). There is left the anion of the acid and 
the kation of the base. In other words, we have 
now in solution a salt, thus : 

HC1 and KOH yield H 2 O and KC1. 
Possibly the salt is only slightly soluble in 
water (no substances are absolutely insoluble in 
water) in which case it separates out that is, a 
precipitate is formed. What happens is that 
the ions composing the insoluble salt cannot 
exist together in the free state, or only in very 






13. Mouth blowpipe 14. Weighing bottle 15. Brass weights 16. Platinum weights 17. Beaker 18. Wash bottle 
19. Tripod 20. Platinum crucible and cover 21. Pipeclay triangle 22. Crucible tongs 23. Desiccator 24. Porcelain crucible 

dilute solution ; most of them combine, and, as 
the combination happens to be insoluble in 
water, the substance is precipitated. Such an 
occurrence is, however, much more commonly 
met with in mixing solutions of two salts together. 
In the mixed solutions we shall have four ions, 
and if by combination of two of them an insoluble 
substance is possible, it will be promptly formed, 
and a precipitate will appear. We may represent 
the two cases graphically as follows : 

+ - 4- - 4- - 

HC1 & AgNO, give AgCl (precipitate) & HNO... 

4-- 4- - + - 

KC1 & AgNO 3 give AgCl (precipitate) & KNO 3 . 
ivtixtures of Soluble Sa ts. If on 
mixing solutions of two salts, say, potassium 
chloride and sodium sulphate all possible 


Acids, Bases, and Salts. For our 

purpose we may regard these three types as 
composed of two ions, a positive or kation 
(metals including hydrogen and metal-like 
radicals, such as ammonium, NH 4 ), and a nega- 
tive ion or anion (non-metals including the 
hydroxyl OH, the halogens and the acid radicals 
S0 4 , N0 3 , CO 3 , etc.). Using the signs 4 (plus) 
for kation, and - (minus) for anion, the state of 
some of the commoner salts, acids, and bases in 
solution may be written graphically as follows : 

H - Cl, H - NO.,, HH - S0 4 , HH - CO 3 . 
4-4- 4- - - 

K - OH, NH 4 - OH, Ca - OHOH. 

4-4 4- - 4- 

K - Cl, KK - S0 4 , NH 4 - N0 3 , Ca- SO 4 . 


, l)mhin , ailin , ;l ,v soluble in water-no preeipi- 

, ut ,l; l.ut if e concentrate lh" 

it ions by evaporating oft the water, a 

i| In- reached when one of thr ualta will 

to separate out. This m,-y be any one 

. f ( .ur following: Potassium chloride. 

xndiutn Milnhaie. M.dium chloride, or [>otassium 

,,,H depeml entirely on which i- 

the moat insoluble in thr solution at the t 

m (lf th , ii ( ,ui.t. 77,1- most ifUohMe 
Mlt will separate (. whether it be one of Uioee 
originally added or not. 

that there is no object to be gained 
by asking which of the four salts were originally 
in solution. They were all there potentially. 
Dege- of Dissociation. A salt is not, 
rcr, wholly dissociated, except in an in- 
linitelv dilute solution, so that both molecules of 
tin- salts as well as ions are present in the mixed 

Strong acid-, bases, and the salts prepared 
from them, are the most completely dissociated of 
.inces in solution. Indeed, the strength of 
and bases will be proportional to the number 
ydrogen and hydroxyl ions respec- 
tively. Thus, solutions of acids of strengths 
.rtional to their molecular weights will con- 
tain a larger or smaller number of hydrogen ions 
to the strength of the acid, and any- 
thing that tends to reduce the proportion of 
ogen ions will reduce the strength of the 
acid. So, for instance, sulphuretted hydrogen 
gives no precipitate with zinc chloride in the 
presence of hydrochloric acid ; but, if an excess of 
sodium acetate be added, a precipitate is formed, 
because the concentration of the hydrogen ion, 
or hydrion, is reduced. First, acetic acid re- 
places hydrochloric acid, and, being a weaker 
. there is a smaller proportion of hydrogen 
:idly, the excess of sodium acetate 
still further reduces the degree of the dissocia- 
1 ic acid, and a liquid is obtained, 
which for all practical purposes is neutral. Yet. 
. this result has been obtained, not by adding 
a base to neutralise the acid, but by merely add- 
ing an excess of a neutral salt sodium acetate. 

The All-important Ion. It is of the 

great* -t import ;m<e for the student to realise that 

the pn.jM-rtiesof "electrolytes" (acids, salts, and 

bases) are the properties of the ions. It is the 

ion* that react: consequently, the behaviour 

Instance depends upon the nature and 

the number present. This fact simplifies very 

much the problems of analysis. \\ V have not 

to learn th | u * .- ;l lts but merely of 

hlorine will always combine 

'!" -"'vet a precipitate of sil\- r 

chloride, whetl brooa hydro, hloric acid, 

poUuwium ehloride. or any other roluble salt. 

the other hand, no precipitate of .silver 
chloride .. IV with potassium 

chlorate (K<'ln ), In-cause it does not contain 
B, but the elilorate ion (ClO ). 
lii of this sort could be multiplied in- 
definitely, h was formerly the cu-tom toi 
}> '-'111111 |il.itin.M-hltirid. ipiute ob- 

* "u c-L.lon.; rlnuble 

s t lt (- 7 K('l PtCl,), yet it contains no chlorine 
'ion. and does not vMd silver chloride with silver 
nitn-te solution, but rather the silver salt of 
chloroplatinic acid (H.-PtCl,), dissociated thus 

HH PtC'l,. 

Our syctejnatie examination will therefore 
comprise the reactions of the ions. As the- 
old nomenclature is that still generally 
used, we shall still adhere to it; thus, for 
instance, we shall speak of tests for cMoridee 
instead of chlorine ions, for chlorates and not 
(CIO,) ions, and for salts of silver, mercury, 
and lead, and not silver, mercury, and lead ions. 
Professor Ostwald has written a treatise on 
analytical chemistry, mostly from the theoretical 
standpoint, in which the theory of electrolytic 
dissociation is employed systematically through- 
out. The student is referred to this for fu-U 
information on the subject. He will find it mosc 
interesting reading. 


The metals are conveniently divided into five 
groups. We give below the group reagent and 
a confirmatory test for each metal. 

Group 1. Silver, mercury (mercurous) and 
lead salts. All these metals give white precipi- 
tates of the chlorides with hydrochloric acid. 
We have already noted the properties of these 
precipitates. As confirmatory tests : silver 
sodium hydroxide produces a light brown pre- 
cipitate of silver oxide (Ag.,0) ; mercury 
sulphuretted hydrogen produces a black pre- 
cipitate of mercury and mercurous sulphide ; 
lead potassium iodide produces a bright 
yellow precipitate of lead iodide (PbI 2 ). 

Group 2. Where no precipitate was formed 
on adding hydrochloric acid, or the precipitate, 
if formed, has been filtered off, the addition of 
sulphuretted hydrogen . to the clear solution 
precipitates as sulphides : 

Mercury (mercuric], lead, bismuth, cadmium, 
arsenic, antimony, and tin. As the sulphides of 
these metals are differently coloured, the pre- 
cipitate formed will help the student to dis- 
tinguish between them. If the sulphuretted 
hydrogen be added very gradually, the precipitate 
with mercuric salts is at first whitish, then changes 
rapidly from red and browTi to black. Lead, 
bismuth, and copper form black precipitates 
(PbS, BIS ( , CuS) ; cidmium, bright yellow 
(CdS) ; tin (stannous), dark brown (SnS) ; 
stannic, yellow (SnS,) ; antimony, orange 
(Sb S.j) ; arsenic, yellow (As. 2 S ;! ). Sulphide* 
of the last three nietals differ from the preceding 
ones, as they are soluble on warming gently in 
ammonium sulphide solution. If lead has been 
present in quantity it will already have been 
detected in Group 1. 

Confirmatory Tests. Mercury (Mer- 
<-iirir): pota-sium iodide produces a bright red 
precipitate of mercuric iodide (HgL). Strong 
solutions of bismuth salts, when diluted 
with much water, produce white precipitates, 
owing to the formation of basic salts. Thus, 
bismuth chloride yields bismuth oxychlorido 
(BiCl 3 ->BiOCl). ' 

This reaction may be thus represented : 
BiCl 3 + K,O ~ BiOCl 4 2HC1. 

The double arrows are intended to show that 
the reaction may take place in either direction. 
The proportion of BiCl 3 (soluble) to BiOCl (pre- 
cipitate) will depend entirely on the proportions 
of hydrochloric acid and water. 

The group BiO plays the part of a metal, 
and the chloride may be contrasted with silver 
chloride, thus: (BiO)Cl and AgCl. 

Copper : a piece of iron, such as the blade of 
a penknife, dipped into a solution of copper 
salt becomes coated with a red deposit of 
metallic copper. 

Tin (stannous) : a solution of mercuric chloride, 
produces at first a white precipitate of mer- 
curous chloride (Hg,CL), which, on warming 
with an excess of tin salt, turns grey, owing to 
the formation of metallic mercury. The reao 
tions are thus represented : 

2HgCL, + SnCL, = Hg,CL + SnCl 4 
Hg. 2 Cl 2 + SnCl^ = 1^ +"SnCl 4 

Antimony and arsenic : very minute traces 
of these metals may be detected by means of 
Marsh's test. A current of hydrogen gas is 
produced by allowing a dilute solution of sul- 
phuric acid to act on pure zinc, to which 
a drop or two of platinum chloride has 
been added, to promote by galvanic action 
the evolution of the gas, which is led through 
a narrow glass tube. When the hydrogen has 
expelled all the air from the apparatus, the gas is 
lit at the end of the tube, and a small quantity 
of the test solution is then added to the flask. 
The flame becomes coloured, as it carries with it 
the gases AsH 3 or SbH 3 , and, on holding a cold 
porcelain basin to it, a metallic deposit of arsenic 
or antimony will be formed. A black stain in- 
dicates the presence of antimony, and a brownish 
and shiny mirror, arsenic. If this deposit be 
treated with a little sodium hypochlorite solution 
the arsenic stain will be rapidly dissolved, 
whereas the antimony stain will be unaffected. 
By heating the tube through which the gases 
pass with a flame, a metallic deposit is formed 
on the walls, and is further from the flame 
in the case of arsenic than with antimony. 

The hydrogen gas should always be tested 
before starting the experiment to see that it is 
pure and free from arsenuretted hydrogen 
(AsH 3 ), as arsenic is a common impurity in 
zinc. Marsh's test can also be applied to organic 
substances suspected to contain arsenic, and 
thousands of these tests were made after the 
cases of arsenic poisoning from beer a few 
years ago. This test is also one commonly 
employed in detecting minute traces of arsenic 
or antimony in the viscera in post-mortem 
examinations of persons suspected of having 
been poisoned. 

Group 3 . This group may be separated into 
two subdivisions. The first of these comprises 
the metals iron, aluminium, and chromium, 
which are precipitated on adding to a fresh solu- 
tion of the substance to be examined an excess 
of ammonium chloride followed by ammonia. 

In the case of iron (ferrou* - //'s), the precipitate 


is whitish to dark green (Fe(OH).,). In the case 
of ferric salts, foxy red in colour (Fe.,(OH),.) ; 
aluminium is precipitated white as aluminium 
hydroxide (Al,(OH) f! ) Chromium is only parti- 
ally precipitated. All these precipitates consist 
of hydroxides of the metals. If no precipitate 
is formed, add a little ammonium sulphide, 
when precipitates will be formed of zinc sulphide 
(ZnS) (white) ; manganese sulphide (MriS), 
(flesh coloured); chromium hydroxide (Cr.,(OH) (i ) 
not the sulphide (bluish green), nicJcel and 
cobalt sulphides (MS and CoS) (black). 

Confirmatory Tests. Iron (ferrous): 
potassium ferro-cyanide produces a white pre- 
cipitate (K-jFe^CN),}), which turns blue on 
shaking in the air through oxidation to Prussian 

Iron (ferric) salts ; potassium ferrocyanide 
produces a dark blue precipitate, Prussian blue. 
At first, the idea of testing for an iron salt with 
another compound of iron may seem strange ; 
but it is easily explained when we remember that 
the iron salts in question contain ferric ions, 
while potassium ferrocyanide contains another 
and more complex ion (Fe(CN) (i ), which, of course, 
reacts as a whole, and has different properties to 
the ferric ion. 

Aluminium : ammonium sulphide produces 
a white flocculent precipitate of aluminium 
hydroxide (AL,(OH),.), the sulphide possibly first 
formed being decomposed. 

Zinc : sodium hydroxide produces a white pre- 
cipitate (Zn(OH),), soluble in excess. Some 
of the best confirmatory tests for metals of this 
group have been given under Blowpipe Analysis. 

Group 4. This comprises three metals 
barium, strontium, and calcium all of. which are 
precipitated as carbonates on adding ammonium 
carbonate solution to the liquid to which 
ammonia and ammonium chloride have already 
been added. In all cases the carbonates are 
white precipitates. (BaCO 3 , SrCO 3 , and CaCO 3 ) 

Confirmatory Tests. Barium : potas- 
sium chromate produces a yellow precipitate of 
barium chromate (BaCr0 4 ), while calcium 
sulphate (CaS0 4 ) produces a white precipitate of 
barium sulphate (BaS0 4 ). Strontium: potassium 
chromate produces a yellow precipitate in con- 
centrated solutions only, while calcium sulphate 
produces a white precipitate of strontium 
sulphate (SrS0 4 ) on standing (the strontium 
sulphate is formed in solution immediately on 
adding a soluble sulphate, but does not begin to 
separate out at once from dilute solutions owing 
to the phenomena of " supersaturation "). 
Calcium : ammonium oxalate produces a white- 
precipitate of calcium oxalate (CaC 2 O 4 ), insoluble 
in acetic acid. 

Group 5. We now come to the metals which 
are not precipitated by any of the foregoing 
reagents. They differ from those already con- 
sidered hi that most of their salts (including 
carbonates) are soluble in water. Metals of this 
group comprise magnesium, potassium, ammo- 
nium, and sodium. Magnesium differs from 
the others in that it forms an insoluble phosphate. 
A solution of magnesia salt, containing ammonia 



m.l ammonium chloride gives a white crystalline 
pitate itl Bodiom phosphate. Ihis pre- 
. I paeraim.ainmoorom^; 

(liat , (M.XII.m,). and as it is slight y soluble 
,|,,,,nn, -pa rate very rapidly from 
,l,lute solutions <super, t ,urat,on). '1 ho contents 
, f tht . ,,st tuU. should be shaken vigorously, or 
the ted tube rubbed with a glass rod 
to induce, formation of the precipitate. 

Con.irmatory Tests. To a solution of 
salt add one of platmic chloride and 
,11 with a glass rod ; a yellow precipitate 
1 ) separates out, All ammonium salts 
Muell ,,f ammonia gas when warmed with alka- 
lies Sodium : there is hardly a sodium salt which 
is not readily soluble in water, so that for all 
practical purposes we may say that sodium salts 
give no precipitates with reagents. 

The flame tests already mentioned will be 
found useful in testing for the metals of this 
I . and tin- preceding one. 


Besides the preliminary tests already described 
there are a number of wet reactions for acids of 
which we give below the more important. These 
teetfl apply to salts of the acids in question, and 
generally to the free acids as well. We can sub- 
divide them into groups as in the case of the 

Group 1. This group comprises sulphuric 
acid and hydrofluosilicic acid. The latter is very 
seldom met with. These acids and their salts, with 
1,, uium chloride solution, give white precipitates 
(such as barium sulphate, BaS0 4 ), which are 
in-. iluble in hydrochloric acid, so that the pre- 
ipitate may be formed in the presence of hydro- 
.hloric acid, or it may be added subsequently, 
wh-n it will be noticed that the precipitate will 
not dissolve. 

Group 2. This group comprises acids which 
are precipitated by barium chloride, but these 
pitates are soluble in hydrochloric acid, so 
tint arid added to the precipitate rapidly dis- 
solves it. Tin- group includes the acids carbonic, 
oxalic, boric, phosphoric, hydrofluoric, arsenious, 
arstnir, sulphurous, thiosulphuric, chromic, and 

Con f irmatory Tests. The student should 

that when he applies a reagent and 

in-ikc- him-e|f acquainted with a test, he is 

iiin^ at tin- same time a test for the reagent. 

It, we have explained how calcium salts can 

be tested for l\ means of a solution of ammonium 

oxalate. Ozalates can equally well be tested for 

with a solution of calcium salt. Thus in testing 

for an oxalate it is necessary merely to add 

Mini hloridc to a neutral solution, when we 

:n a pr. < -ipitate of calcium oxalate whose 

pn.|M-rtie- \v.- havr jilre.-.dy d.-M-rihed. 

m i'i : a piece of tumcric, paper is dipped 

into ;i solution of a borate, such as common 

idified with hydrochloric acid, and 

dried Boric acid is indicated by a 

red-l.ioun i-ulour. 

a solution of ammonium 
molvKd.ite in t ' ,f n itri c acid 

- a yellow preeipitat i wanning gently. 


Very little of the substance and an t excess .of 
ammonium molybdate solution should be taken. 
The test is a delicate one. 

Hydrofluoric acid: heat a little of the dry 
substance in strong sulphuric acid, when hydro- 
fluoric acid (HF) is evolved. The liquid in the 
test tube shows a characteristic oily appearance. 
If the reaction be carried on m a platinum 
crucible covered with a piece of glass the glass 
will be etched by the action of the acid vapours 

Arsenious and arsenic acids: solutions 
acids must be first carefully neutralised with 
a little ammonia, when, on adding silver nitrate, 
a yellow precipitate of silver arsemte (Ag^Asty 
will be formed with the former, and a brown 
with the latter acid (silver arsemte, Ag 3 As0 4 ). 

Sulphurous acid : nothing is more charac- 
teristic than the smell of the gas when driven 
off on warming the solution with a little mineral 
acid. It has, moreover, the p( wer of turning a 
red solution of potassium bichromate green 
(reduction to a chromium salt). The test may be 
performed by lowering a glass rod with a drop 
of the bichromate solution on the end into the 
test tube, avoiding touching the sides. On re- 
moving the rod a little later, the drop hanging 
from the rod will be seen to have turned green. 

Thiosulphuric acid: mineral acids precipi- 
tate finely divided sulphur, while at the same 
time sulphur dioxide gas is given off. 

Chromic acid : salts of this acid are well 
coloured. The precipitate with barium chloride 
is yellow. We may reverse the test for sulphurous 
acid, a little of which turns the yellow or red 
solution of the chromates green. 

Iodic acid: .iodates are decomposed on heat- 
ing. The residue readily yields vapours of iodine 
on warming with strong sulphuric acid. These 
violet vapours are very characteristic of the 

Group 3. Acids of Group 3 are precipitated 
by a solution of silver nitrate. We shall consider 
only those which are not precipitated by barium 
chloride. These comprise hydrochloric, hydro- 
bromic, hydr iodic, hydrocyanic, and hydrosulphuric 
acid. The precipitates, consisting of the silver 
salts, are white or yellow, with the exception of 
silver sulphide, which is black. Silver chloride 
we have noticed when testing for silver. The 
precipitate is insoluble in nitric acid, but soluble 
in ammonia solution. 

Silver bromide is yellowish in colour. It is 
almost insoluble in nitric acid, but dissolves in 
strong ammonia solution. 

Silver iodide is yellow, and differs from bromide 
in that it is very sparingly soluble in ammonia 

Nilver cyanide, which is white, behaves almost 
exactly like silver chloride, but does not dissolve 
so readily in ammonia. It dissolves in excess of 
potassium cyanide giving KAg(CN),. 

Confirmatory Tests. Hydrochloric, hydro- 
bromic, and hydriodic acids may be identi- 
fied by the liberation of the corresponding ele- 
m< nts chlorine, bromine, and iodine by heat- 
ing with sulphuric acid and a little powdered 
oxide of manganese. For the appearance and 
properties of these elements see page 1444. 

Cyanides are decomposed by hydrochloric 
acid, with the liberation of hydrocyanic acid 
(HCN), which has a peculiar odour, said to 
resemble bitter almonds, but, as a matter of fact, 
its smell is characteristic and not exactly like 
anything else. As it is extremely poisonous, care 
must be taken not to inhale too much of it. 

Group 4. This group comprises a few acids 
which are not precipitated by barium chloride or 
silver nitrate. They include nitric, chloric, and 
perchloric acids. Nitric acid is easily detected 
by its action on copper. Copper shavings are 
readily dissolved either by the free acid or by a 
mixture of a salt and a little sulphuric acid, 
with the evolution of brown vapours (oxides of 
nitrogen) and the formation of a blue solution 
(copper nitrate). Another very characteristic 
test is to mix the solution to be tested with a 
solution of ferrous sulphate. A little strong 
sulphuric acid is carefully poured down the side 
of the tube, so that it sinks and forms a layer 
underneath the aqueous solution. The test tube 
is held under the tap to cool it thoroughly, and 
on holding it up to the light a brown ring will 
be seen at the juncture of the two liquids. The 
action of the sulphuric acid on the nitric acid 
is to liberate oxides of nitrogen, which give a 
dark brown or black colour with ferrous salts. 

Insoluble Substances. There are a 
number of insoluble substances which are very 
inert and require to be tested for carefully. 

Although insoluble in water and acids, silica 
is dissolved to a certain extent on boiling 
with strong alkali solutions, or better still by 
fusing it with a mixture of equal weights of the 
carbonates of soda and potash (fusion mixture). 
The fused mass is dissolved in water and acidified, 
when gelatinous silica separates out either at 
once or on concentration of the solution. 

We have omitted to mention all rare elements 
some of which, however, are of considerable and 
increasing importance as by doing so we should 
be introducing too many complications. For 
these the student must refer to larger works, 
specially devoted to the subject. 

Tests for Organic Substances. There 
are a number of organic substances to which 
routine tests are applicable. One or two of the 
more important may be mentioned here. 

Tartaric, citric, and malic acids: these acids, 
like oxalic acid, yield precipitates of the cal- 
cium salts for instance, with calcium chloride 
in neutral solution. 

Tartaric acid can be further identified by the 
fact that a strong solution shaken with potassium 
chloride gives a white crystalline precipitate of 
acid potassium tartrate. 

Benzoic acid gives a yellow- brown precipitate 
with ferric chloride. The acid volatilised by 
heating in a tube emits a vapour of character- 
istic odour, which condenses again in the cooler 
parts of the tube. 

Carbolic acid. Ferric chloride produces a violet 
colouration, but a similar colour is obtained with 
salicylic acid. These two substances are related, 
and a smell of carbolic acid is evolved on heating 
salicylic acid with lime. 


In our discussion of qualitative analysis 
we have given an outline of the methods of 
ascertaining the nature of a substance ; in this 
section we shall show how to determine the 
amount in which it is present, whether by itself 
or in admixture with other substances. 

This portion of our subject is divisible into two 
sections analysis by weight, or gravimetric 
analysis, and by volume, or volumetric analysis. 
Volumes are also measured in the analysis of 
gases, but this is usually treated under gas 

Gravimetric Analysis. " Gravimetric 
analysis has for its object to convert the 
known constituents of a substance into 
forms or combinations which will admit of 
the most exact determination of their weight, 
and of which, moreover, the composition is 
accurately known " (Fresenius). Thus, we shall 
suppose that one of the known constituents 
of a substance we are dealing with is sulphuric 
acid or a soluble sulphate, and that we require 
to determine (or estimate) its amount. We 
proceed to convert it into a substance of known 
composition, say the barium salt or barium 
sulphate, which can be separated and accurately 
weighed. As one equivalent of sulphuric acid 
will produce one equivalent of barium sulphate, 
we can calculate the amount of sulphuric acid 
present from the weight of the barium sulphate 
found. We have special reasons for choosing 
the barium and not some other salt such as the 
calcium salt. We have seen in our study of 
qualitative analysis that barium sulphate is very 
insoluble in water. It is, as a matter of fact, one 
of the most insoluble substances known, and 
consequently well adapted for our purpose. 

Sulphuric Acid Estimation. We shall 
proceed to make an estimation of sulphuric 
acid. We may suppose that a careful qualitative 
analysis has already been carried through, and 
that the precipitate obtained with barium 
chloride solution in the presence of hydrochloric 
acid was fairly copious, pointing to a considerable 
proportion of sulphuric acid or sulphate present. 

About one gramme of the substance is accu- 
rately weighed off on a chemical balance [see 
page 61]. Substances to be weighed must never 
be put directly on to the scale-pan, but are 
weighed on a watchglass [2] or in a weighing 
bottle [14], whose weights must first be deter- 
mined and deducted from the total weight found. 

Enter the weights in your book thus : 
Weight of watchglass -f substance = 1-9472 gr. 
Weight of watchglass . = -8315 

.'.Weight of substance taken for 

analysis 1-1157 

The weights down to one gramme are made 
of brass [15] ; below one gramme usually of plat- 
inum [16]. For weights less than a centigramme, 
the rider attachment situated over the beam o f 
the balance is used. 

A weighing bottle should be employed if the 
substance to be tested is " hygroscopic " that 
is to say, has the power of absorbing moisture 
from the air ; otherwise a watchglass will usually 
be preferred. 



Removal of Insoluble Matter. Having 

, Vi .iuii,.,l out the mtatance, .t *"** 

(that i< distilled) water m a beaker [17 J. 
* the ,ater should be heated to get 
substance dissolved more quickly. We 
aume h^e that it is soluble in water 
oTat any rate that we are estimating only 
,1, sulphuric acid in the soluble .portion .If 
!,,. to an insoluble portion, it should first be 
,,,.,, ,,, T Kor this purpose a circular filter 
paSs folded in four in the form of a quadrant 
41 the flap opened and fitted into a glass funnel. 
Tl o aperl then moistened with distilled water 
from P a wash bot* ( 18] and fitted evenly against 
the sides of the funnel. The liquid is then poured 
down a glass rod into the funnel, which should 
not be filled above three-quarters the height of 
The filter paper. When the whole has run through, 
e beakTr Swashed out three times with water, 
e Wshings being poured through the filter 
pape7TthTt the whole of the soluble matter 
Ls collected in a vessel, such as a beaker, placed 
under the funnel. 

Precipitation as Barium Sulphate. 
Hydrochloric acid is added to the torrid, which 
should not more than half fill the beaker. It 
is heated to boiling on a tripod [19], and suih- 
it barium chloride solution added to precipi- 
tate the whole of the sulphuric acid as barium 
sulphate. For this purpose more than 'the 
theoretical quantity of BaCl. 2 will be required. 
The liquid is kept boiling for a minute or two 
and the precipitate allowed to settle. When 
precipitated from a boiling solution, barium 
Milphate settles more rapidly and is easier to 
fitter. Compare 11 and 12 ; both are barium 
sulphate precipitates which have been standing 
lu-r : 11 has been boiled and has rapidly 
^ttlcd, while 12, precipitated in the cold, only 
begins to show signs of settling. The clear, 
"supernatant" liquid is poured off through 
a close-grained filter paper. The " filtrate "the 
liipiid which passes through should be boiled 
fi.r a few minutes after adding two or three 
drops more barium chloride solution to make sure 
that the whole of the sulphuric acid has been 

pitated. With the aid of a jet of hot water . 
from a wash bottle [18] the precipitate is trans- 
ferred from the beaker to the filter paper and 
washed further by means of a hot-water jet 
from the wash bottle until the filtrate is free from 
chloride (a few drops should give no cloudiness 
with silver nitrate solution). 

Ij-.nitin . the Precipitate. The filter 
. paper is allowed to drain and is tln-n transferred 
bodily with the precipitate to a previously- 
weighed platinum crucible f*0j lying on a pipe- 
clay triangle [21 1 on a tripod [19J. Care must 
be taken not to tear the paper or lose any of 
the pneipit.ite. The lid is placed on the 
ible, .ind a liunsen burner |3] with full flame 
i in 1. 1 neat h. There is just a little spluttering 
he lid is then removed, the crucible 
tilted a little to one side, and the paper charred 
and .-\. ntiully burnt of! to a white ash. After 
heat mem for a short time, nothing but 

aamall (piantity of \\hite substance -sulphate of 
barium and filter p u-main- at the, 


of the crucible. Any dark portions left 

; Purposes the weight of the ash may be 
refected or allowed for and deducted from the 
weight of the precipitate if great accuracy be 
nsisted on. Packets of pure filter paper for 
quantitative work generally have marked on them 
the average weight of the ash. The crucible 
is lifted off the triangle by means of a pair o 
crucible tongs [22], best made of nickel, and 
deposited in a desiccator [23] to cool 
desiccator consists of a glass jar with cover 
having strong sulphuric acid or calcium chloride 
at the bottom so that, the air above being dry, 

the crucible and contents cool without absorbing 
moisture and increasing in weight. The crucible 
and contents are then weighed. 

Enter the results in your notebook thus : 
Weight of crucible + barium sul- 
phate = 19-4377 gr. 
Weight of crucible = 18'4312 
.'.Weight of barium sulphate 1'0065 ,, 
This quantity of barium sulphate is equivalent 

to 1-0065 x = -3456 gm. (S0 :! ) ; 

or, expressed in percentages : 

'. fr, X 10 = 30 ' 9 P el> Cellt} - 


In the foregoing we chose the estimation or 
sulphuric acid, and have given a full description 
of the chemical manipulations, as it is a deter- 
mination which has to be made in the technical 
laboratory as often as any other. Moreover, it 

is the universal method for the determination 
of sulphates. No satisfactory volumetric method 
has been devised. Of course, this does not 
apply to solutions of the free acid. 

Analyses of Other Substances. 
We are unable in the short space at our dis- 
posal to give specific instructions as to the carry- 
ing out of other gravimetric estimations, and 
must content ourselves with mentioning a few 
points in which modifications of the above 
method are necessary or convenient. Platinum 
crucibles [20] cannot always be used, as some 
substances, such as compounds of lead, attack 
and alloy with the platinum. In these cases 
a porcelain crucible [24] should be taken. As 
instances where this is necessary, we may men- 
tion : lead, as lead carbonate (PbC0 3 ) precipi- 
tated from solutions of lead salts by ammonium 
carbonate in presence of a small quantity of 
ammonia ; zinc, as zinc carbonate (ZnC0 3 ) 
precipitated with sodium carbonate ; silver, 
as silver chloride (AgCl) precipitated with 
hydrochloric acid. The precipitates in such 
cases as these cannot be put wet into the crucible, 
but must first be dried in a steam oven [25] 
and the dry precipitate separated as 
much as possible from the filter paper 
and ignited apart from the latter in 
the crucible. This operation should be 
performed with the crucible standing 
on a piece of glazed paper. The pre- 
cipitate may be detached by the aid of 
the clean blade of a penknife, and any 
substance spilt on the paper may be 
afterwards swept into the crucible with 
a camelhair brush. The filter paper 
is folded up and securely held by wrap- 
ping a long piece of platinum wire 
round it ; the end of the wire is fused 
into a glass handle. The paper is 
burnt in the cage of wire formed in 
this manner and the ash is allowed to 
drop into the crucible containing the already 
ignited precipitate, so that all are weighed 

The Gooch Crucible. The method just 
described is somewhat tedious, and unless the 
greatest care be taken, some of the precipitate 
is sure to be lost. Such determinations as those 
of silver and chlorine are rapidly made in a Gooch 
crucible [26]. It consists of a platinum crucible 
the base of which is perforated with numerous 
11 holes ; it fits into a filtering flask similar 

that shown [27]. Some short-fibred asbestos 
thoroughly extracted with acids is poured into 
the crucible, and as the water drains away it 
leaves a plug of fibre on the bottom. This is 
then covered with the perforated plate seen on 
the right of the illustration [26], and on connecting 
the flask with an exhaust pump, most of the 
water is sucked out and fresh water may be 
drawn through, so that the asbestos is thoroughly 
washed. The crucible is then detached, dried 
in an air oven at 110 C., and weighed. The 
silver chloride is precipitated in the ordinary 
manner, and the liquid poured into the crucible. 
The aqueous liquor is sucked through into the 
filtering flask and the precipitate left entangled 


in the asbestos. It is washed with distilled 
water in the usual manner, after which the cru- 
cible is removed to the oven, dried and weighed. 
The difference in weight represents silver chloride. 
Results just as accurate are got by drying at 
110 C. as when silver chloride i^ heated to fusing 
point. There is no need to put in fresh asbestos 
each time a determination is made, as the crucible 
can be used several times before the accumula- 
tion of precipitates necessitates cleaning it out. 
More Important Estimations. We 
will indicate briefly the method of analysis in 
some instances not already treated of. 

Iron and aluminium, : precipitate as hydroxides 
with slight excess of ammonia and ignite wet. 

Copper : precipitates as oxide with caustic 
potash or soda. If the liquid contain any 
organic matter it must be destroyed by con- 
centrating in an open dish or basin [28], with 
the addition of soda and nitre, and then fusing, 
redissolving, and precipitating. 

Sulpur, whether present as sulphides or 
free or contained in organic matter, must be 
oxidised with nitric acid to convert it into sul- 
phuric acid which can then be estimated aa 
barium sulphate in the manner already 
described. Sulphides are readily oxidised 
by warming with strong nitric acid in a 
flask or beaker covered with a clock- 
glass, but many organic substances re- 
quire more drastic treatment. They 
must be heated with nitric acid to a high 
temperature 200 C. to 
300 C. and this can be 
accomplished only by seal- 
ing them up with nitric acid 
in a strong glass tube [29] 
(Carius method) and placing 
the tube in a special oven or 
furnace [34]. The latter 
illustration show r s the ends 



iron tubes in which the glass ones are placed, 
so that no damage will be done should they 
burst a thing which not infrequently hap- 
pens, when they go off with a report, leav- 
ing nothing but a little powdered glass behind. 
In sealing the glass tubes care is taken to 
leave a fine capillary at the end [29] so that 
after a couple of hours, when the reaction is 
complete, the tubes are opened and the accumu- 
lated pressure released by fusing the end of the 
capillary without taking the glass tube out of 
the iron one. All danger is thus avoided. The 
pressure released, the tube is cut into halves and 
the contents washed out into a beaker and precipi- 
tated with barium chloride hi the usual manner. 

Chlorine in soluble salts may be precipitated 
directly with silver nitrate, but when contained 
in organic substances it must first be liberated 
in the form of chloride by heating with nitric 
acid in a sealed tube in the manner just described. 
A crystal or two of silver nitrate is put into the 
tube, so that on opening, the silver chloride has 
only to be washed out into a Gooch crucible and 

Magnesium. Soluble salts are heated with 
ammonium chloride, and made very slightly 



ulkalinr with An excess of sodium 
t "phate m ,<M,-d. and the liquid is stirred for * 
Lmn-ort*,.. When the pre-Mprtatehas formed 
add more stronu ammonia and put aadetO 
tad till the next day. Filter off, wash with 
ammonia solution (1 in l->), and ignite. The pre- 
maL'ti'-ium ammonium (MgJNtt 4 ru 4 
;H 0) onverte<l by ignition into magnesium 

p %">|> m hlch , f rm J' 

wriL-h.-d. all the volatile water and ammor 

i Iriven off. , , 

be estimated by the above 

cool showing that practically all the gas is 

iystimated by predating 
it from an acid solution as the sulphide (bb,b 3 ) 
l.v saturating with sulphuretted hydrogen gas. 
solutions of antimony chloride are pre 
eipftftted on dilution with water ; tartaric acid 
M&ed to the liquid prevents this There are 

,m dithrulties in the way of weighing sulphide 

mony, as it decomposes when heated i 
air It must either be dried by heating in 
hydrogen gas (which can be conveniently c^ied 

or else oxidised 
with nitric acid, 
which converts 
it into the oxide 
(Sb 2 3 ). This is 
then ignited 
28. PORCELAIN BASIN and weighed. 

Arsenic is precipitated as sulphide (As. 2 S 3 ), 
collected in a Gooch, and dried at 100 C. 

Tin is also precipitated as sulphide, and on 
igniting is converted into the oxide (Sn0 2 ), in 
uhieh form it is weighed. 

iry is precipitated as sulphide (HgS), col- 
'i-. t.d in a Gooch, dried at 100 C., and weighed. 

Carbonates. As carbonic acid is widely 

distributed l>oth as a constituent of the atmo- 

-ph.-re and as a component of minerals, its 

.stimation is a matter of con- 

''.!( im|M)rtance. Besides 

th.- in. -thuds already given, 

ih.-r.- are others depending on 

ill.- d.-eomp.sition of carbon- 

atcs and th<- measurement of 

is evolved either by 

I- l>y volume. The determin- 

y weight is carried out by 

I -la- -inn a weighed amount of the 

~iil.-t.ini.' m a flask | A, 30] provided 

with a ninl .-rcurk pi.-n-ed \\ith two 

Through one hole passes a 

losed \vith a piece of 

i nil line and a pineh coi-k. This 

ll.-d with acid before the experiment. 

Through tli<- oth.r hole passes an outlet 

I with two or more U- tubes, 

tilled with an absorbent for carbon dioxide 

-u. h .is s., da Inn.-. Thoe tubes ;u-<- weighed 

In-fore Martini: th- experiment. By opening 

th- pin.h eik. the ji-id from the pipette 

"I" -I Iinll-Vnlatilr aeid such as 

-ulphunr) is alloued to ent.-r the la>k in small 

lu.intiti.- n\ a tiim-. so that the earl.on dioxide 

"IT "i a Bll .nd is al.sorl,4-d l,y 

t 1 "' "iid I'-tnl.e should remain 


flask should be freed from 
carbon dioxide by passing it 
through the soda lime tube, 
E, and a wash bottle, F, 
containing strong sul- 
phuric acid to retain 
moisture, should be in- 
terposed between A and 
C. The U-tubes, C C, are re- 
weighed, and the increase in 
weight represents carbon 

If the flask A be removed 
so that the soda lime tube be 
27. FLASK FOR Q t o the atmosphere, and 
FILTERING UNDER ft definite vo i ume of air be 
PRESSURE sucked through the tubes by 
running out and measuring the water from D, 
we have an apparatus for estimating the amount 
of carbon dioxide gas in the atmosphere. 

Measuring Moisture. Moisture has fre- 
quently to be measured, as substances which have 
been exposed to the air are never dry. The 
simplest method is to place a weighed quantity 
of the substance in an open dish, watch or clock 
glass, also previously weighed. Then heat in an 
oven [25] at 100 C., or a little higher, till the 
substance ceases to lose weight. The loss of 
weight will give the moisture or water con- 
tained in the substance. 

This method is simple and accurate, provided, 


first, that the substance contains no other volatile 
matter, which would be driven off and lost with 
the water ; and, secondly, that it does not take 
up oxygen (oxidise) during the heating. Most 
mineral substances, but few organic ones, comply 
strictly with these conditions. Some bodies (such 
as iodine and naphthalene) are far too volatile 
to admit of treat- 
ment in this man- 
ner, while others, 
such as rosin, are 
only slightly vola- 
tile, so that the 
results are good 
enough for most 
purposes, although 
not strictly accur- 
ate. Oils oxidise 
and increase in 
weight, as also do 
substances such as 
wood pulp, but the 
action is slow, and seldom leads to serious error. 
Sometimes the moisture in mineral substances 
is held very firmly (water of constitution), 
and a much higher temperature than 100 C. 
is required to drive it off. The same prin- 
ciple can be made use of as already described, 


but the watchglass must be replaced by a 
crucible, and the temperature, if necessary, 
rafeed to a red heat. Unfortunately, the sub- 
stance frequently suffers other chemical changes 
at these high temperatures, so that in many 
cases the water cannot be estimated by difference. 
In such cases the substance is heated in a 
hard-glass tube, and the moisture drawn over 
weighed U-tubes containing calcium chloride, 
the water being directly estimated, as in the 
case of carbon dioxide absorbed in soda lime. 

Silicious Materials. The analyst is 
frequently called upon to examine substances 
such as cement, clay, fireclay, and firebrick, 
silicious limestones and dolomites, sand, iron 
ores, slags, and numerous other substances 
containing silica, and we shall now consider the 
best methods in such cases. 

Some substances, such as iron ores, limestone, 
lime, magnesite, dolomites, and cement are de- 
composed on repeated treatment with strong 
hydrochloric acid to which a few drops of nitric 
acid have been added, leaving a residue con- 
sisting of silica. A portion of this tends to re- 
main in solution, owing to the persistency of the 
colloidal state, and is rendered insoluble only by 


evaporating down the mixture in a porcelain dish 
and heating the dry residue for half an hour at 
about 150 C. The "baked" mass is then 
treated with a small quantity of strong hydro- 
chloric acid, stirred up with a glass rod, and the 
insoluble silica filtered off and washed with hot 
water. The residue may be ignited straight 
away and weighed as described for barium 
sulphate. The solution contains iron, aluminium, 
calcium, magnesium, etc., as chlorides, which 
may be estimated by methods already described. 
Of course, the iron and alumina must be first 
precipitated, and the filtrate carefully preserved, 
as this will contain calcium and magnesium. 
The calcium is precipitated as oxalate, and the 
magnesium estimated in the filtrate. 

Analysis by Fusion with Alkali. In 
the case of many silicious substances the decom- 
position with acids is not sufficiently complete for 
analytical purposes. This applies to some of the 
substances mentioned in the preceding paragraph 
cement, for instance although for many 
purposes the acid treatment gives good enough 
results, and is, besides, a rapid method. It 
cannot, however, be used where an exact analysis 
is required. In either case, the substance to be 


analysed must be very finely powdered, not 
always an easy matter. Some substances when 
they come to hand are already in a finely divided 
state, as clay and cement ; but a portion from 

which the sam- 
ple for analysis 
is to be taken 
should always 
be reground in 
anagate mortar 
[31] to 
p a r- 
tic les 


are always present. Iron ores are often very hard, 
and must first be crushed in a steel mortar [32], and 
then powdered in the agate mortar. Weigh out 
accurately about one gramme of the material into 
a capacious platinum crucible [20], and add about 
eight grammes of the mixture of equal parts of 
pure dry carbonates of sodium and potassium 
" fusion mixture " which has a lower melting 
point than either carbonate by itself. Mix 
thoroughly with a glass rod, cover with the lid, 
and heat on a clay triangle, first with a small 
flame, and then gradually increasing its size 
until the gas is full on, finally heating for a 
quarter of an hour over a blowpipe flame. The 
mouth blowpipe will not do ; you will want a 
gas blowpipe [33] fitted with foot blowers [37]. 
The contents of the crucible should be at a bright 
red heat and in a state of gentle fusion. Take 
the crucible firmly in a pair of tongs, and while 
still red hot plunge it to about half its height into 
a basin of cold water. This cools the " melt " 
rapidly, so that on solidifying it usually cracks 
away from the sides, and is easily removed. 
Place the crucible on its side in a deep porcelain 
dish, cover with water, and gently warm on 
a water bath [35] till the contents .come away, 
when the crucible is removed, and rinsed with 
a jet of water so as to retain everything in the 
dish. Cover the dish with a clock-glass and run 



in hydrochloric acid very carefully down the lip 
of the dish. The addition of acid is continued, 
keeping the dish covered with the clock-glass 
all the while until effervescence ceases. In this 



manner, particle, <.f li|iii<! spray are caught on 

tli" undei surface of th<- clork-glass and drip 

into the dish. The 

clock ^'lassshould. of course. 

l>e placed convex side down- 
Kemove it, and 

wash any drippings back 

into the ili^h. and continue 
ILT on the water bath 

till the contents are dry, 

then place in the air oven 

and heat to 150 C. for half 

an hour, to render the silica 

in oluble, and continue the 

analysis exactly as before. 
Sampling. We have 
mied that the portion of material selected 

for analysis is a representative sample of the 

whole. To ensure this, special precautions 
have to be taken, as most materials for 
analysis are by no means uniform through- 
out. Take, for instance, a delivery of several 
truckloads of coal. It will probably include 
material from different parts of the seam, and 
even if we analyse different portions of a 
single lump, it will not be found to be 
uniform throughout. In the case of coal, 
ores, clay, and numerous other substances, 
it is at least as important to procure a fair 
sample as to make an accurate analysis. 
Supposing the trucks are being unloaded at 
the works, the chemist removes small quan- 
titie., say a pound or two at a time, with 
i-hovel or other suitable instrument, 
every now and again at some con- 
venient point say, where the ma- 
terial is being taken by an elevator 
to storing bins. These samples are 
thrown out on to an impervious 
Hoor and thorougly mixed and divided 
into four quarters or heaps. Two of 



The Calcimeter. In the cement industry 
and some others, rapid estimations of carbonates 
have to be frequently made, 
and for this purpose some 
form of calcimeter is 
generally used. In cement 
works it is necessary to 
make regular tests of the 
slurry [see page 1580] to 
ascertain the proportion of 
chalk it contains. 

A small quantity of the 
slurry is dried, weighed, and 
introduced into the bottle 
shown on the right-hand side 
of the illustration [36]. This 
bottle is provided with a short tube, which rests 
against the side and holds rather more than 
sufficient acid to decompose the chalk con- 
tained in the slurry. On inclining the bottle, 
the acid flows out of the tube, and, com- 
ing into contact with the slurry, liberates 
carbon dioxide gas. This gas finds its way 
into the middle vessel, which stands in 
connection with a long graduated U-tube 
containing water. Before starting the ex- 
periment the levels of water in this tube are 
adjusted by means of the bottle and rubber 
ball seen on the left. The air driven out of 
the middle flask by the carbon dioxide gas 
displaces water in the graduated limb of the 
U-tube, and on adjusting the levels again 
the volume of carbon dioxide may be directly 
read off. A correction has to be 
made for the amount of gas absorbed 
by the acid in the bottle. Of course, 
this method is suitable only where 
rapid estimations are required, as the 
results are probably not correct to 
more than half of one per cent. 
It is hopt d that this short account 

the diagonally opposite heaps are removed, and of some of the more'important analytical opera- 
the remaining two remixed, and again divided into tions will give the reader an insight into the 
four, and the process re- 

peated. At a certain stage 
large lumps must be broken 
up. and the division repeated, 
until we are left with only a 
feu pound, of lumps and 
powder, not hir^-r, Ml y. than 
walnu ue taken 

t<> the laboratorv. cni>hed 
further in a mortar, and 
dividing operations repeated, 
with further grinding at 
miUbl . until we 

M with only a few 
m "f the finely pow- 
uiaterial for an 

'f lMl ' i'lo. e s J,a> lieen 

r\y niidui-i.-il. the 

amounting to onlv 

. will I,',. 

1 several 
rW v.luch W( , itartod to 


toil of 


principles on which the science 
is based. He will, however, 
find a number of analytical 
processes described in the 
subse quent sections of Applied 
Chemistry, Kjedahl's nitrogen 
estimation under Glues and 
Adhesives, the analysis of 
nitrates and phosphates undei 
Manures, and food and water 
analysis under the various 
food sections. The subject of 
volumetric analysis has been 
omitted as it could not be ade- 
quately dealt with in the space 
at our disposal. For further 
study we recommend the text- 
book of Clowes & Coleman, or 
the standard work on volu- 
metric analysis by Button. 
Most of the illustrations in this article are from 
apparatus supplied by Messrs. Baird & Tat lock 





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gaze at his attempts and say, " Very well for an 
amateur," which is only another way of saying 
that the professional is not seriously rivalled by 
the amateur. If anything, the public learn, from 
seeing the productions of an amateur, that photo- 
graphy is not the simple art it appears to be at 
first sight. It is also a fact that amateur photo- 
graphers invariably patronise the professional 
when they require presentable photographs of 
themselves or their relatives. 

Apprenticeship. A boy with the proper 
aspirations should be apprenticed to a good 
country business when he has reached the age 
of sixteen. In some cases a premium of 20 
to 30 is asked ; in others no premium is paid ; 
and, again, small salaries are not unusual. A 
boy learns just as much at places where he 
receives a salary as where a premium is 
paid. The young beginner is taught printing, 
toning, developing, and mixing up solutions for 
a year or so, and is then introduced to the studio, 
where he helps in the operating, until he is 
competent to operate himself. Retouching is the 
last department taught. During these three 
years the young man should attend evening 
classes at the local science and art school. In 
London the excellent courses in photography at 
such institutions as the Polytechnic cannot be 
too highly recommended. The country lad 
should not, however, be discouraged by the lack 
of classes on photography in his town, but should 
occupy his evenings at the art classes, and go 
through a course of elementary chemistry, light, 
and heat in a science school. 

Remuneration. The salaries paid in the 
business of a photographer are from 30s. to 45s. 
a week, the amount depending on the experience 
of the assistant, and on his ability as an operator. 
Many women are engaged in certain departments 
of the photographer's business, and they are 
quite successful as reception-room attendants, 
retouchers, printers, and mounters. The salaries 
paid to women range from 15s. to 80s a week, 
according to experience. 

D 27 G 

The Professional Photographers' Association 
has devised a " registration certificate " scheme for 
assistants. There has not yet been time to judge 
whether the scheme will be successful, but it may 
be added that it does not involve examination 
merely a consideration of experience in the 
various departments of the business. 

Starting in Business. To begin business 
is the aim of most assistants, but this step 
should not be taken until experience has been 
obtained in three different studios. Whether 
the photographer decides to buy an existing 
business or to .start a fresh one is a question 
which circumstances must decide. As a rule, it 
costs the same in the long ruri, because, although 
the established business has a certain amount 
of goodwill attached to it, there is sometimes an 
undesirable reputation which neutralises the 
advantages. A photographer who starts a new 
business can soon make a reputation if he 
delivers his work promptly. The writer remem- 
bers a case in which the photographer built up 
a lasting reputation by delivering the finished 
photographs within three days of the sitting. 
It is a fact, however, that a beginner has often 
to make his name chiefly by work outside his 
studio. He will need to cater for work by taking 
local views, but should make a point of always 
being in his studio at certain times of the day, 
or he will never be able to build up a home 
business. As soon as the business is large enough 
to support an experienced assistant, most of 
the difficulties outlined above disappear. 

Capital Required. It is hardly possible to 
state an exact sum as necessary for one starting 
the business of a photographer. Many have 
started on 20 or 50, but to start in a fairly 
comprehensive manner needs from 200 to 300. 
A studio, for instance, may cost 50 to 100, and 
the camera from 10 to 30. . In the following 
estimate, a medium class of business has been 
taken as a basis of calculation : 

Portable studio 

Furniture and carpets 

Backgrounds and accessories 

Camera, lens, and stand 

Dark-room fittings 

Apparatus (printing frames, retouching desk, washer, 
trimmer, rolling press, etc.) . . 

Mounts and stationery 

Plates, paper, and chemicals 
Miscellaneous (including advertising) 
Working capital 




Premises. The above estimate provides for a 
portable studio, but it may be that waiting-rooms 
and dark-room will also have to be provided. 
Usually these last-named are the ground-floor 



'rooms cf .1 II..HM-. and lead to the garden, \vhnv 
tin- -tudi<> i-* Mtuuted. Rents are higher in 
town, luit a business is built up sooner th.m in 
tin- Milmrlis. Many town business premi> 
h.-indie.ipped . ly having no shop window, the 
show-ea-e- in a doorway being a poor substitute. 
It p. -.- i Me. have a shop window at disposal.^ 
Tin- outside should be painted in a quiet colour 
m or plum colour are favourites while for 
th- inside of the \vindn\\ brown is to be recom- 
m.-nded. as it shows up carbon and platinotype 
IK '!: The floor of the shop or reception 

room should be linoleum (self-colour), and the 
walls look nice if papered olive green, with white 
p.iint. The rule should be to avoid a pronounced 
colour. The furniture must be in good taste if 
a good-class business is to be cultivated ; an 
tide and antique chairs help to 
an air of culture, which educated people 
,'ppreriate. Conventional furniture is not to be 
despised, and as customers have to wait some 
tini", care should be taken to have comfortable 
\djoining the studio a dressing-room 
should he provided. 

The Studio. The studio is the most im- 
portant consideration. It must be disposed so 
that the light is received from the north, or 
preferably from a north-easterly direction. The 
length of the studio should be not less than 24 ft. 
;;nd the width 12ft., although it is better, if space 
jH-rmit, to make it 35 ft. long by 18 ft. wide. 
The piteh of the roof is usually 35 to 45 deg-ees, 
tin- height to ridge being about 14 ft. 

As regards the studio camera equipment, an 

average specification would be a 12 x 10 set, to 

complete, 25. The camera is fitted with a 

(lark slide to take one 12 x 10, one 10 x 8, one 8 x 

boudoirs, two promenades, two cabinets, 

two arte-de-visite pictures. A good portrait 

nd massive stand is also included. Many 

k'raphers start studio work with an ordinary 

: outfit . with rapid rectilinear lens, and 

pm. h.<- proper studio apparatus as means 

enmt. The other contents of the studio will be 

t Im-,. bMton ninds a reversible neutral-coloured 

ackground, and one outdoor and one indoor 

eene-a head-rest, rugs, palms and grasses, 

and a few pictures for the walls. 

ing of the studio is best managed by 

sans of a " syphon " gas-stove or by hot- water 

"d .t is essential that the studio be 

Jtoblj warm in winter, or successful results 

t be expected The method of fitting up 

-I ii , -xplained i n the article on 

l " ( Idlers, which follows. 
Mounts. The ti,,ts of mounts are numerous, 

ous mounts in use ,y photo- 



Approximate Price. 


2 by l^y 

3s. 6d. 1,000 

Victoria Midget 

2t 1\ 

4s. 6d. 1,000 

Cabinet Midget .. 

~\ i; " JJ 

4s. 6d. 1,000 

Promenade Midget 

3J ' ,, If 

4s. 6d. 1,000 

Boudoir Midget 
Panel Midget 
Carte-de-Visite . . 

3s 2 
4J If 
4* 2J 

5s. 6d. 1,000 
6s. 6d. 1,000 
6s. 6d. to 15s. 1,000 


6| 4^ 

16s. to 30s. 1.000 

Promenade . 

8J ,, 4 5s. 9d. to 7s. 6d. 100 


8k bk 

7s. to 9s. 100 


10 6J 

13s. to 16s. 100 

l'ani-1 ... 

13 7k 

4s. to 4s. 9d. 100 

Large Panel . 

17 lOJ 

6s. to 7s. 6d. 100 

Grand Panel 

23 13J 

10s. to 13s. 100 


J Plate .... 4* by 3i 

9s. 6d. to 20s. 1,000 

.... 5 ,,4 

15s. to 30s. 1,000 

J Plate .... 6i 4J 
Stereoscopic . . 7 ,, Sy 7 ^ 
7J ,, 5} 6J 

22s. to 50s. 1,000 
[ 2s. to 10s. 100 

10 ,,8 6s. 3d. to 12s. 100 

12 10 9s. to 25s. 100 

Tissue paper covers for photographs, pro- 
tector bags, and postal wrappers will be needed 
as well as memorandum forms and bill-heads. 

A registration system for negatives must be 
inaugurated, a ruled book being provided in 
which the name and address of each sitter is 
entered with date and other particulars. The 
stock of negatives ought to be stored in a dry 
place and be put in order so that there will 
be no difficulty in rinding a particular negative. 
Selling Prices. Vary according to the 
class of trade. The following are average prices : 
midgets, 4s. 6d. to 6s. dozen silver prints, 7s. 6d. 
platino ; carte-de-visite, 7s. to 8s. 6d. dozen silver 
prints, 10s. 6d. to 12s. platino ; cabinet, 15s. 
to 24s. dozen ; boudoir, 18s. to 20s. dozen 
to 35s. dozen ; panels, 10s. 6d. to 15s. each ; 
wedding groups, whole plate, one to two guineas, 
including three to six copies. 

Copyright. In the case of ordinary photo- 
graphs the copyright belongs to the person 
who pays for the sitting unless it is expressly 
reserved by the photographer. A book of forms 
should be provided for the latter purpose if the 
extent of the business allows it. The wording 
of the form is usually something like this : 

" In consideration of your allowing me a 
reduction from your usual terms for taking 
photographs of me or on my behalf this day, 
hereby agree that the copyright in such 
photographs shall be reserved to you, and that 
1 will not deal in any way with the photographs 
to prejudice your interest in the copyright." 

1 he reduction should be stated, and the agree- 
ment stamped with a sixpenny stamp, dated, 
nlled m with the names of the parties, and 

Copyright in artistic property can be registered 

at Stationers' Hall, Ludgate Hill, London, E.G., 

fee being Is. Registration is necessary 

'fore a legal action can be taken against anyone 

intrmgmg a copyright photograph. The Photo- 

graphic Copyright Union, 23, Soho Square, 

London, W., and the Professional Photographers' 

Association, 51, Baker Street, Londonf W. are 

useful societies for professionals ; the sub- 
scription in each case is small. The Copyright 
Union recommends the adoption of a minimum 
reproduction fee of 10s. 6d. to a guinea according 
to the size. This is for newspaper work. For 
advertisement purposes the charges are higher ; 
for postcards 10s. 6d. per 1,000 is a usual charge. 

Class of Work. Photographer's work is 
very varied. It includes copying old photo- 
graphs, enlarging pictures by bromide, carbon, 
or platinum processes, architectural work, 
photographic enamels, flashlight groups of 
dinners, lantern slides, transparencies, and 
photographs for the Press. In the old days, 
unmounted and mounted views had a large sale, 
but this has all disappeared before the ubiquitous 
picture postcard. Picture postcards are either 
direct photographs or collotypes. Collotype post- 
cards cost 16s. 6d. per 1,000 if six subjects are 
taken, while for a set of 50 subjects the charge 
is 9s. 6d. per 1,000 if 10,000 are taken. Bromide 
postcards cost from 7s. to 12s. per 100, according 
to quantity and number of subjects. In the case 
of photographs for the Press, half-plate prints 
full of detail are preferred. A country photo- 
grapher should arrange with an agent in London 
who sells photographs on commission to the 
various newspapers. The work needs to be 
done quickly. For dinner and ball-room groups 
a good flashlight apparatus is needed. Some 
photographers make a speciality of machinery 
photographs, and now that photographs are so 
much used for illustrating catalogues, this 
branch should by no means be neglected. 
For this class of work an air-brush, costing 
about seven guineas, is almost a necessity, as 
large spaces have often to be stopped out or 
retouched before the picture is fit for repro- 
duction. Enlargements, miniatures, and fancy 
printing on opal, etc., are at first best left to 
trade printers, but the first-mentioned branch 
can easily be undertaken by the photographer, 
and it pays well if a special line be made of 
framed enlargements. 

A side line neglected by professional photo- 
graphers is the supply of plates, papers, and 
apparatus to amateurs. The article on Photo- 
graphic Dealers should be consulted for details 
of this trade. 

Frames and Framing. A valuable ad- 
junct to the photographer's business is the sale 
of photograph frames. It is no use going in for 
this department unless the photographer has a 
really fine selection of frames and in all sizes 
round, square, landscape and midgets. There 
are several styles which allow the frames to be 
used either upright or lengthways for views or 
portraits. Midgets with round or oblong open- 
ings cost 3s. 6d. per dozen and sell at 6d. each. 
Carte-de-visites with round or oblong openings 
cost 5s. per dozen, and sell at 9d. each. Cabinets 
with round or oblong openings average 7s. 6d. 
per dozen, and sell at Is. each. The panel cabinet 
size frame either round or oblong costs 15s. per 
dozen, and sells at 2s., while the boudoir frame 
costs 17s. per dozen and sells at 2s. 6d. Picture 
framing [see Picture Framers] should also be a 
department of a photographer's business. 


Advertising. Advertising is much neg- 
lected by photographers. If more price lists 
were distributed more people would be led 
to have their pictures taken. Make a special 
offer of a certain style of photograph or 
enlargement, but in so doing do not make 
a mistake of cutting prices ; rather, make 
the quality and style better than charge a 
cheap-jack price. When sending home proofs 
enclose a price list of various styles in which the 
photographs can be printed, even though the 
customer has paid for the sitting. In many 
cases a few additional prints are ordered 
because some variation in style is fancied. The 
proofs sent should be from retouched negatives, 
and are best on printing-out paper. They 
should be stamped "to be returned," and, in 
case of neglect, should be charged for in the 
number ordered. 

Profits. The photographer should obtain 
good profits, as his business is not on a par with 
one where goods are simply handed over the 
counter. Each customer has to be studied so as 
to get the best results in a photograph, and con- 
siderable artistic ability is required to retouch 
a negative and finish a photograph. These 
must be paid for as they involve an expenditure 
of time. The writer, endeavouring to work 
out the cost of carte-de-visites and cabinets 
on printing-out paper arrived at the figures 
3s. and 5s ; on platinum, the cost would be 
4s. and 6s. 6d. As a matter of fact, it is 
not possible to arrive at the exact cost as 
it varies according to the extent of the busi- 
ness, but it may be taken that the gross profit 
is 50 per cent, on the turnover. A source of much 
loss with many photographers is the waste of 
material that goes on. Spoilt plates and paper, 
and wasted solutions, especially if the last- 
named contain the precious metals, account for 
a respectable leakage in profits. The leakage 
can be stopped by proper supervision and 
systematic working. 


Photography is essentially a summer pursuit, 
and a business which has only a few months 
of activity is not a desirable one. Steps have 
been taken to educate the public to winter 
photography and magic -Ian tern work ; but it is 
only the enthusiast who can dabble in ice-cold 
water and pretend that he likes it. Lantern 
work tends also to make the hobby expensive. 

Qualifications. The photographic dealer 
should have a taste for scientific pursuits and, 
above all, should practise photography himself. 

There is no apprenticeship in the business ; 
the embryo dealer starts as a junior assistant, 
and works his way up. Wages are not on a 
liberal scale ; 30s. to 45s. a week are fair averages 
for junior and senior assistants of experience, 
and it is not astonishing that any young man of 
enterprise and small capital soon looks about 
for a neighbourhood where he can set up in 
business for himself. 

The best neighbourhood is obviously the busy 
residential suburbs of great towns or seaside 
resorts. Near public schools a photographic 
dealer can generally make a living as successive 



generations of schoolboys take up the fasei- 

_ :! ed.ieative art. It is true that 

up for only a few months tral 

thii BWIUM M considerable expenditure 

in outfits. Tin- boy's parents probably start 

tli.- youth with a camera, as a birthday or 

season pift. unmindful of the fact that ttie 

the 1,-ast expenahre part compara- 

.1 king of an energetic photographers 


The DarK-room. In connection with a 
phot. .,_'i a], In. dealer's business, provision should 
I*- made for a dark-room for the use of amateurs. 
In mid be lighted by sliding shutters on 
t),,. v ! tin- source of light for the ruby 

lamp should be gas or electric light. Means must 
,! ,,pt.d for obtaining white light at will, as 
printing processes require a white light for 
seconds at a time. A by -pass is a useful 
addition to the gas burner, but with electric 
a separate lamp for white light is readily 
; dongside the ruby lamp. The walls should 
ut. d a dull lead colour, the same treatment 
.ipplied to the ceiling. Water should be laid 
.1 beneath the tap should be a porcelain or 
le.ul-lini d sink. The tap to the water-pipe should 
I*- tittul with a reducing nozzlo, and a rose cap 
i advantage. The developing space should 
I*- on one side of the sink, and arranged so that 
splashes of developer and water drain away to 
tlif sink. Shelves underneath the sink and the 
developing bench should be fitted up for the 
di>hes. \\hile on the Avails shelves are placed 
for the developing solutions and measures. 
Another table should be provided for the 
dark slides while filling them or while the 
plates they have contained are being developed. 
table should be arranged at the opposite 
f the room from the sink, so that it is not 
likely to get splashed. Ft is an advantage to 
it away from the light, as plates should not 
I- . -\po~. d . v.-n to red light unnecessarily. The 
should U- well ventilated. Any carpenter 
will understand when it is explained to him 
that In- must make the ventilators light traps. 
of the door also must be trapped 
round th- dge<. but this may be rendered un- 
necessary by the provision of a curtain on the 
Tin- door should loek on the inside 
so an to pi, -vent the possibility of disturbance 
i of plate changing or developing. 
A refinem'-nt in dark-room doors is to Lave 
two doors ,y a lobby so that a person 

i th- room without admitting light. 
photographk bu \eraldark- 

' 'i To rasual eustomers ;i 

mall Charge minimum, lid. is made for the 

the dark room for plate changing, but if 

piire|,as,- r of goods at the 

mwiseto p,e<s the charge. When the 

'loping plates a charge of 

"K covering the use of the 


Capital Required. The amount of 

required [or starting the b U s m , 
I' 1 ";'"- 1 ' 1 !' 1 '" '' da upon whether it is 

<" ^mother business, or to IM- 
I'hie requisites. When started 

in connection with a drug business, a ten-pound 
note would suffice to stock the most frequently 
required apparatus and plates, the chemicals 
being already articles of stock. Great care must 
be taken not to lay in a stock of plates and papers 
that will last beyond the season, as these 
goods do not keep well It is better to replace the 
stock of perishable goods entirely each season, 
selling off the remains of last season's goods at sale 
prices to clear. When a new business is being 
started, the amount of capital will depend, in a 
measure, on the neighbourhood, but for the pur- 
pose of this article 100 is taken as a medium figure. 
It will be noted that no special brands of goods 
are mentioned, this being a matter which depends 
upon the wholesale house with whom the order 
is placed. It is also understood that the beginner 
desires scope for his energies in selecting the 
goods his experience suggests, and most suited 
for the requirements of the neighbourhood. 
There are new papers and plates being introduced 
every year, and fashion in cameras changes 
from season to season. This is especially the 
case with hand cameras, where last season's 
goods are looked upon as old-fashioned. This 
is a reason for caution in buying. 

Estimate for a 100 Stock. The 
following is an approximate estimate of the 
manner 100 would be laid out in stock for a 
photographic dealer. The list was originally 
printed in the " Photographic Dealer's Annual." 

Two J-plate stand camera sets 

One J-plate stand camera set . . 

One i-plate high-class camera set, with 3 dark 


Three daylight spool cameras, 1, 2, and 5 guineas 

One flat film hand camera 

Two magazine i-plate hand cameras 

Two each camera cases, i-plate and i-plate . . 

One each camera case, solid leather, i-plate 

and i-plate 

Three camera levels 

Three carriers, i-plate to i-plate exposure meter 

Three focussing cloths 

Three each focussing screens, i-plate and i-plate 

Two focussing glasses 

Two each R.R. lenses, i-plate and i-plate . . 
One anastigmat lens, i-plate 

One W.A. lens, i-plate 1 

Two each roller blind shutters, T. and I., i-p"ate 

and i-plate 
Two each S.S. shutters, i-plate and i-plate . . 

Two cheap drop shutters 

Two tripod stands and tops, 3-fold 

Two tripod stands, 2-fold 

Two tripod stands, aluminium telescopic 

Oae brilliant view finder.. 

T\\o hand camera view finders . 

12 albums, assorted, for C.D.V., i-plate cab 

and i-plate . . . . . 
Three camelhair brushes, 2 in. 
Six Is. handbooks on photography 
Three each, cutting shapes, C.D.V., i-plate cab 

and i-plate 

Three boxes dark-room pins 

Six bottles 6d. mountant 

12 each deep porcelain developing dishes, i-plate 

and J-plate 

Six ditto, 10 in. by 8 in. 
Three ditto, 12 in. by 10 in. . 
12 each composite celluloid dishes, i-plate and 


Tiirec metal racks and tanks '. 

Three i-ach folding racks, J-plate and i-plate 

'> dox. J-plates, assorted brands 

."4 do*. J-phite ditto 

12 doz. 5 in. by 4 in. ditto 

'.' iio/. whole-plate ditto 
If doz hint ITU plates .. '.'. 
lliree yards ruby and orange fabric 
Six Is. ruby lamps 











































































Three 4s 6d. ruby lamps 

Six ruby lamps, assorted, for candle, gas, and oil 

Three hock bottle lamps . . . . .... 

Assortment G.B.E. mounts for C.D.V., J-plate, 

cabinet, and J-plate 

Assortment slip-in mounts for J-plate and J-plate 
Assortment paste-down mounts for J-plate, 

i-plate, wlK>le plate, 10 in. by 8 in., 12 in. 

by 10 in. prints 
Assortment fancy mounts 
36 packets J-plate gelatine-chloride paper, 

assorted brands 
45 packets cabinet ditto 
18 packets i-plate ditto 
12 packets whole-plate ditto 
12 packets J-plate bromide paper 
12 packets i-plate ditto 
Six packets whole-plate ditto .. 
Three packets each, 10 in. by 8 in., and 12 in. by 

10 in., bromide paper 
One packet 15 in. by 12 in. ditto 
Six J-plate wood negative boxes for 50 
Four j-plate ditto 
Two japanned negative boxes, J-plate and i-plate, 

for 12 

Two plate and print washers 

12 each J-plate and i-plate printing frames . . 

Six each, 5 in. by 4 in., ditto . . 

Three whole-plate ditto 

Six print trimmers 

One blade print trimmer 

Three zigzag print trimmers 

One retouching desk 

Three retouching sets 

Three sets hand scales, glass pans 

Three sets pillar scales, ditto . . 

Six roller squeegees, 4 in. 

Three ditto, 6 in 

Three each J-plate and i-plate glass vignettes 
Assortment of plain and stoppered bottles . . 
Three dropping bottles 
Three packets each, J-plate and i-plate, backing 

Six ferrotype plates 

s. d. 

13 6 

1 10 

1 10 


1 16 
11 6 
11 6 


Three packets masks and discs 

Six assorted lens caps 

Two each J-plate and i-plate cloud negatives 

Two rose sprays 

Three each 2 dr, 2 oz., and 20 oz. measures . . 

One developing sink 

Small sundries 

5 5 

2 10 






16 6 





5 3 
7 6 





The discount on this estimate would amount to 
between 25 and 30, which should be spent in the 
purchase of chemicals from the list which follows. 

Photographic Chemicals. The list 
below shows the approximate cost and retail 
price of the chief chemicals used in photo- 
graphy, and also their uses. The prices do not, 
as a rule, include the bottles in which the 
chemicals are sold. Wholesale photographic 
warehouses supply most of the chemicals bottled 
in small quantities (1 ounce, 2 ounces, and 4 
ounces), which is a convenience to dealers, but it 
is cheaper to purchase in bulk and to re-bottle 
into smaller containers if required. There 
are chemicals used in photography other than 
those given in the list, but all chemicals have 
been included which have a regular sale among 
amateurs and photographers. The chemicals 
should be kept in large bottles distinctly 
labelled, so that no mistakes can be made. The 
names printed in italics in the following list are 
alternate designations. 

Put=up Goods. The photographic dealer 
will require to keep ready-made developers and 


Name of chemical. 

Wholesale price. 

Reta price. 



Is. 6d. Ib. 

3d. oz. 

Instead of alkali in developer. 


Is. 8d. oz. 

2s. 6d. oz. 


Aluminium powder .. 

7s. 3d. Ib. 

Is. oz. 

For flashlight. 

Alum, powder 

Is. for 7 Ib. 
Is. 8d. oz. 

4d. Ib. 
2s. 6d. oz. 

Hardener for plates and paper. 

Ammonia, 880 . . . . ... 

6d. Ib. 

2d. oz. 

As alkali in developer. 

Ammonium bromido 

3s. Ib. 

6d. oz. 

As restrainer in developer. 

Ammonium sulphoeyanida . . . . 2s. Ib. 

3d. oz. 

Constituent of toning bath. 

Benzol 1 Is. 6d. pint 

2d. oz. 

Solvent for wax. 


5d. Ib. 

Id. oz. 

In toning bath. 

Calcium chloride 

lOd. Ib. 

3d. oz. 

Siccative for platinum paper. 

Cotton wool 

Is. 4d. Ib. 

2d. oz. 

For filtering. 

Eikonogen . . . . ' t . 

12s. Ib. 

Is. 2d. oz. 



Is. 6d. Ib. 

3d. oz. 

Hardening gelatine films. 

French chalk 

6d. Ib. 

Id. oz. 

Cleaning glass plates. 


3s. Ib. 

3d. oz. 

As mountaut. 


Is. 8d. oz. 

2s. 6d. oz. 


Gold chloride 
Hydrochloric acid (Spirit of salt) . . 

Is. 8d. for 15 gr. tube 
6d. Ib. 

2s. tube. 
2d. oz. 

Toning sensitised paper. 
Clearing platinotypes. 

Hydroquinone (Quinol) 
Iron sulphate (Green vitriol) 

4s. 6d. Ib. 
Is. 6d. for 7 Ib. 

8d. oz. 
Id. oz. 

Platinotype developer. 

Litmus paper 

Is. 3d. doz. books 

2d. a book- 

Testing for acids and alkalies. 

Magnesium ribbon . . 
* Mercuric chloride (Corrosive sublimate) 

21s. Ib. 
3s. 6d. Ib. 

Is, i-oz. coil 
4d. oz. 

Flashlight photography. 
Intensifying solution. 

t Methylated spirit (Alcohol) .. 

2s. 8d. gaL 

6d. pint 

Drying plates. 


2s. oz. 

3s. oz. 


Ortol . . 

2s. oz. 

3s oz. 


Potassium bichromate 

8d. Ib. 

Id', oz. 

In carbon process. 

Potassium bromide 

2s. 4d. Ib. 

3d. oz. 

Restrainer in developer. 

Potassium ferricyanide (Red prussiate 

Is. lOd. Ib. 

2d. oz. 


of potash) 

Potassium hydrate (Caustic potash) 

Is. 3d. Ib. 

2d. oz. 

As alkali in developer. 

Potassium metasulphite 

Is. 6d. Ib. 

3d. oz. 

Preserver for developer. 

Potassium oxalate 

7d. Ib. 

Id. oz. 

Platinotype developer. 

Pyrogallic acid (Pyro) 

9d. oz. (bottles free) 

Is. oz. 

As developer. 

Pyrocatechin (Catechol) 

30s. Ib. 

2s. 6d. oz. 

As developer. 

Rodinal . . Is. 3d. oz. 

Is. 9d. oz. 


Sodium carbonate . . . . . 3d. Ib. 

8d. Ib. 

As alkali in developer. 

Sodium hyposulphite (Hypo) 
Sodium sulphite 
Sulphuric acid (Oil of vitriol) 
Water, distilled 

9s. 6d. cwt, 
5d. Ib. 
6d. Ib. 
3d. gal. 

2d. and 3d. Ib. 
lOd. Ib. 
Id. oz. (by weight) 
6d. gal. 

Fixing plates and paper. 
Preservative for developer. 
Preserving platinum developer. 
Making uo developers. 

White wax (White beeswax) 

2s. 6d. Ib. 

3d. oz. i In encaustic paste. 

* Can be sold only by chemists t Vendor must hold a licence 



other solutions for his ouatomers. Thrsi- n J> e 

bought from a wholesale dealer, but if made by 

th.- retailer y..-ll better profits. In making up 

dM.l'ed water should be used, as 

lhl , , eolation* Good corks musl 

, ,1. and. 1 ,-f..rr putting them into the bottles, 

.lu.ul.l be dipped into melted paraffin wax 

t,, U.-.-P il.nii from contact with the solutions. 

The bottles should be preferably of some dietanc- 

.-ind if nf amber colour the contents 

OJ lik.-ly to be miM.-krn for medicine. Many 

photographic solutions are poisonous, but it is 

well to avoid giving the impression to customers. 

k ..f printed labels should be bought, 

in-on which are given the directions and the 

Dame of the dealer. These cost about 5s. for 

md are cheaper still in lots of -1,000. 

It i* fashionable to have developer in the 

form of tabletH, and they are a great con- 

\rni.nee when travelling. Most of the whole- 

-npply these, and will put the dealer s 

name on tlie pa-ket when a fair quantity is 

bought. Branded kinds are made by Powell, 

i 1 ), velopoids," and Burroughs Wellcome 

. all theirs "Tabloids." To use these tablets, 

tin y are rushed to pwder in a little water, and 

the necessary quantity of water added. 

Side Lines. It is becoming increasingly 
popular for amateurs to hand over their exposed 
plates, or films, to the photographic dealer for 
development and subsequent printing. Some 
amateurs do their own development, and hand 
the negatives over for printing. The profits are 
from 20 to 25 per cent on fhis class of work, 

Repairs to cameras and apparatus should 
be undertaken, and arrangements made with a 
manuf}',' turer for promptness in carrying out 
tlu^ \\oik. Often a customer needs some adap- 
tation. It is quite usual to have to fit film- 
holders to cameras originally made only for 

The hire of cameras is another branch of the 
er*l business. A few good cameras accu- 
mulate through being shop-soiled, or possibly 
by ex<-hanp- with a customer requiring a new 
m -num. -nt. The cameras should be in perfect 
'rl. r. and if the customer is unknown, a deposit 
up t.. the value of the apparatus should te in- 
I upon. The charge for apparatus is 5 per 
of the camera per week, with 
a minimum of 5s. The charge for the hire of a 
-ingle day should depend on the 
i- : but a' minimum should always 
I < tixi-d. ;>.- the eonvenienee of hiring is one for 

"I' mer should expect to pay. 

M >lides an let nut on hire at many 
'^n-phie dealers, ! < harge for the 
-lid.--* I ing from Is. to 2s. per 
MI. r paying carriage. 

I'i'-tun- p"-t , ,,t by many 

the photographers; biit- 

;v I 1 ' my in high-clan 

* - e.-.ii I,. v Un . ,,f the lest class of 

In ! 

ming N suitable f..r this business, as 
photographic enlargement rally incom- 

ritfioot a fi I ir I :.,mers]. 


Advertising. The photographic business 
lends itself in a peculiar manner to advertising. 
The makers of plates and papers supply specimen 
photographs taken on the articles of their manu- 
facture, and very beautiful some of these prints 
are It is, however, preferable that the dis- 
played pictures should be of local interest, and 
if the photographic dealer be a practical man 
and he should be he will have no difficulty m 
making suitable prints for display in window 
and shop. The public will always stop and 
look at a picture, and ' they are much more 
interested if it is of a familiar scene, or of 
a curious out-of-the-way subject. A label, 
" Taken with our two-guinea camera," should 
be affixed to suitable specimens. An additional 
attraction is to be found in having an enlarge- 
ment of unusual size in the shop. Such a 
specimen could be designed to show the degree 
of enlargement that photographs taken with 
a certain lens will bear, or it may be A specimen 
of the work that can be done from customers' own 
negatives. In dressing the window care must 
te taken to use only dummy packets of plates 
and paper, which can be obtained from the manu- 
facturer. The window must be shaded from the 
sun, as the coloured leather of camera bellows 
bleaches if exposed to bright light for long. 

A stereoscope on the counter, with a plentiful 
snpply of stereographs, is good for amusiug 
customers who are kept waiting, and a selection 
of the newest books and journals on photography 
should be placed within reach of the amateurs 
who frequent the shop. Several publications 
contain lists of photographic dealers and dark- 
rooms, and, as names are inserted free of charge, 
there is no reason why the dealer should be back- 
ward in supplying the information. " Photo- 
gram" supplies an outside sign for dealers' use, 
which is useful in places where tourists are found. 
If there be a local photographic society, the 
secretary should be asked for a list of members, 
and the dealer should be unceasing in sending 
each member price lists and catalogues of 
novelties. Very nicely produced catalogues, 
which the dealer can adapt for his own use, are 
supplied by the wholesale houses, and bills and 
folders are sold by those who specialise in 
photographic printing. 

Profits. The profits are good, but this 
should be qualified by the statement that much 
soiled stock is likely to accumulate if business is 
not brisk. The sale of such stock is, perforce, 
done at reduced rates, and, consequently, is 
profitless in some senses. The question of 
branded goods is one which troubles the photo- 
graphic dealer. It is necessary in the case of 
plates and papers ; but the extension of branded 
goods to the details of the business should be 
discouraged as much as possible, as branded 
goods may be cut in price, and injure the profits 
considerably. Price protection is in vogue in 
many photographic articles, and the profits are 
thus maintained. On apparatus and accessories 
33 J per cent, profit is allowed, varying with the 
kind of goods, but some proprietary articles 
allow a profit of only 10 to 15 per cent. 


Cylinders. Pistons. Crossheads. Connecting Rods. 

Group 8 


Crankshafts. Flywheels. Eccentrics. Valves. Pumps 

continued from 
page 4329 


Cylinders. One of the principal detail 
drawings of an engine is that which represents 
the cylinder or cylinders. Fig. 152 shows a 
drawing of the high-pressure cylinder of a com- 
pound engine ; the bore is 16 in. and the stroke 
of the piston is 36 in. The liner, A, is cast of 
harder metal than the cylinder body, and is 
forced into place by hydraulic pressure ; the 
space, B, between the liner and the body is 
frequently used as a steam jacket that is, live 
steam is admitted to the space in order to keep 
the temperature of the liner as uniform as 
possible. Small engines are not usually so made, 

cylinder, and P = steam pressure in pounds per 
square inch. It would not do to simply calcu- 
late the thickness necessary to withstand the 
bursting effort of the steam pressure ; there 
must be sufficient metal to ensure rigidity and 
to stand reboring after wear has taken place. 

The cylinder ends and covers, C and D, are 
slightly thicker than the cylinder walls ; the 
size and pitch of the studs or bolts which secure 
the cover affect its thickness to some extent. 
A good rule is to make the cover and the flange 
of the cylinder 1J times as thick as the cylinder 
itself, then the studs may be pitched 4^ diameters 


but the cylinder body is simply bored out for the 
passage of the piston. The thickness of cylinder 
walls and liners is largely determined by practice ; 
it is seldom less than f in. for cylinders up to 
10 in. bore ; above 10 in. the following formula 
may be used : 

T = P x ?. 

where T = thickness required, T) - diameter of 

apart for steam pressure up to 100 Ib. 
per square inch, and 3 diameters apart 
up to 160 Ib. 

The diameter of the cover-studs is 
determined by calculating the load upon 
the cylinder cover, and apportioning 
sufficient area in the studs to meet the 
load ; a safe stress is 3,000 Ib. per 
square inch of stud area. Care must 
be used in taking the area at the bottom 
of the thread [see Table on page 3005]. 
Studs smaller than f in. diameter are not 
to be recommended for covers, as they are 
liable to damage in tightening up with an 
ordinary spanner. The covers of small 
cylinders are made with a single sheet 
of metal ; for medium cylinders this sheet is 
strengthened with ribs, while for large cylinders 
the covers are made hollow with internal ribs. 

The front cover, C, is cast with the cylinder, 
and has a stuffing-box, or gland, fitted for the 
piston-rod to work through. 

The Valve=chest. The valve-chest forms 
part of the cylinder casting, is of sufficient 
size to accommodate the valves, and is provided 
with a cover, F, and stuffing-boxes, G and H ; 
the box G is for the main-valve spindle, and the 



II for th' 1 

valve spindle. S team -ports, 

U ami K. in ai ranged from 

,-n.l of the cylinder 

heat; the 

ports L and M are for the 
The area 

,>f tin- steam-ports should 
be such that the steam 
does not flow at a greater 
velocity than 6,000 ft. per 
minute, while the 
,.f the exhaust 
port should allow a 
v of 4,800 ft. 
per minute ; the cal- 
culation is then : 

Steam-port area 
= area of piston 
x piston speed . 


154. PISTON 

exhaust port area 

= area of piston 

x piston speed<) 

The length of the port 
that is, the dimension 
measured at right angles 
to the length of the 
cylinder is usually 
three - quarters of .the 
cylinder diameter, and 
this being settled, the 
width of the port is easily 
calculated from the area. 
The wider the port the 
greater the travel of the 
valve, and it is some- 
times necessary to make 
t.he port as long as the 
.Blinder d ; ameter in 
order to restrict the 
travel of the valve. 

Steam is admitted to 
the valve-chest by the 
<>|x-ning N, and exhaust 
leaves by the 
<P mng 0, both of these 
ajH-rtures having facings 
to which pipe - flanges 


Mont end of the 

' i- rapported by 

d of the main 

frame casting ; a foot 

takes the 

Wi-iyht of U 

to founda- 

f tli' cyln 
Irain-eoek for the 
and an 

inductor >,,< k at 





oomn* TWO ROD 


161. FOR,. ED DOT-KI.K ( HANK 


The whole cylinder is 
lagged and finished off 
neatly with sheet steel, a 
dished casting being fitted 
over the back cover. 

Clearance. The length 
of a cylinder is always 
slightly greater than the 
stroke plus the thickness 
of the piston that is, 
there is a small space 
allowed at each end 
of the stroke. This 
space is termed clear- 
anc.e, and is neces- 
sary in order to 
prevent the piston 
coming into contact 
with the cylinder 
covers ; it should 
be kept as small as 
possible, and may 
range from ^ in. 
in small engines to 
^ in. in large ones. 
This space must be taken 
into account when cal- 
culating the amount of 
steam used in an engine ; 
the same remark applies 
to the capacity of the 
steam - ports, as these 
have also to be filled and 
emptied at each stroke. 
The total clearance space 
in an ordinary engine is 
usually from 3 per cent, 
to 6 per cent, of the 
actual volume swept by 
the piston in its stroke. 
Piston. A piston 
is not quite such a 
simple article as would 
appear at first sight, and, 
as a matter of fact, there 
are scores of different 
types in existence. The 
simplest form is shown 
in 153, and consists of 
a cast-iron body having 
three rings let into re- 
cesses ; these rings are 
made slightly larger than 
the piston body, and are 
then cut through dia- 
gonally in one place ; 
they are sprung into 
position on the 
piston and 
squeezed into the 
cylinder. The 
effort of the com- 
pressed rings is 
to expand con- 
stantly, and the 
resulting pressure 
on the walls of 
the cylinder makes 

the piston steam-tight. These are known as 
Ramsbottom rings, and are made of steel, 
but cast iron wears better. When made of the 
latter metal they should not be less than f in. 
wide. Another form is shown in 154, which 
presents a larger wearing surface than 153. 
There are two rings, toth of which are cut 
through diagonally ; a large spiral spring forces 
them outward to make them steam-tight against, 
the cylinder. Such rings cannot be sprung into 
place, so the piston is made in two parts. The 
body, A, is a hollowed casting, as shown in 154, 
and a loose ring, B, termed a junk ring, is secured 
to the piston body and serves to keep the rings 
in place. The depth of a piston may be from 
a quarter to half of the diameter of the piston. 


frame 135, page 4203. The end of the piston-rod 
is swelled up to receive a half brass, and to 
accommodate the cap-bolts of the other half 
brass ; provision is also made for bolting on the 
cast-iron slipper which runs between the guide- 
bars. The cap and rod are of mild steel, and the 
slipper is easily renewed when worn. Fig. 156 
illustrates a heavier type of crosshead made with 
double slippers, to bear on double guide-bars ; 
reversing engines should have double guides. 
Looking at the diagram [157], and considering the 
engine to be running in the direction of the 
arrow A, it is evident that both the piston-rod 
and connecting rod are in a state of compression 
during the outward stroke ; there is consequently 
a downward force acting on the crosshead, which 


The diameter of the piston-rod may be calcu- 
lated by the use of the formula: 

where d diameter of rod, 

D diameter of cylinder, 

L length of rod in inches, 

P = steam pressure in pound? per sq. in. 

The attachment of the piston to the rod is usually 
made with a taper end and nut, as shown in 153, 
but the taper is not absolutely necessary, for a 
parallel neck could be used and a shoulder or 
collar provided at the front end. A good taper 
is \\ in. of diameter to 12 in. of length. 

Crossheads. Crossheads are made in 
great variety ; 155 shows a single slipper cross- 
head, such as might be applied to the engine 

is supported by the guide-bar. 
Now consider the return stroke, 
as shown in dotted lines. Here 
the piston-rod and connecting 
rod are in a state of tension, 
and consequently there is again 
a downward force on the cross- 
head. In fact, so long as an 
engine runs in one direction, 
the pressure on the guide-bar 
is always in the same sense. 
If the engine be reversed, then the direction 
of the force on the crosshead is reversed, 
and means must be provided to support it. 
The example given [156] is in general the 
same as 155, but the slippers are larger, and 
are secured to the forging by studs and square 
keys as shown. 

Adjustment for wear is made by means of 
wedges let through the keys; these wedges 
are moved by the nuts on their screwed ends ; 
the main bolts have lock nuts similar to those in 
37 on page 3007. Crossheads are also made to 
work in circular bored guides, the slippers being 
turned to suit. 

Connecting Rods. Fig. 158 shows a con- 
necting rod of marine type suitable for work- 
ing with the crosshead illustrated in 155. The end 




is forked to embrace the crosshead, and the pin 
is kept from turning by means of a small stop-pin, 
as shown ; the rod 
i- circular, and is 
forged with a head- 
piece to take the 
uun metal wearing- 
blocks. These 
blocks are divided 
at the centre, and 
are held together 
with two bolts 
passing through 
them. An outer 
steel cap takes 
the bending move- 
ment due to the 
pull on tin- rod. 
The nuts on the 
bolts are similar 
to 37, page 3007, 
but the steel cap 

and bottom on one side so that the 
*M brasses may be put in place sideways. 
'*$t\ The example 160 is used for the cross- 
head end of the rod, in which case i 
enters a socket in the crosshead ; it is 
adjustable by means of a wedge-block 
and nuts, as shown. The crankshaft 
end of a connecting rod is termed 
the large end, and the crosshead end is 
termed the small end. 

Crankshafts. The Board of Trade 
rules for marine crankshafts are as 
follows : 

Let S = diameter of shaft hi inches. 
P = absolute boiler pressure. 
C = length of crank in inches. 
D = diameter of low-pressure cylin- 

d = diameter of high-pressure cy- 
/ = a factor depending upon angle 

of crank. 

For compound condensing engines with 
cranks not overhung, 


receives the locking screw 
in place of a separate collar ; in small engine work 

isual to use ordinary double nuts. Connect- 
ing rods, like pieton-rods, are subjected to alter- 
nate tensile and compressive loads. As they are 
\\caki--t in completion, they are designed as 
-tint- or columns, but allowance must be made 
tor the inertia of the rod itself, and this factor 

;.illy in high-speed engines makes the cal- 
culation quite a complicatt-d one. The follow - 

apirical rule due to Seaton agrees closely 
with modern practice : 

I I 
Diameter ot -..nneet ing rod in middle =- 

where I, length of connecting rod in inches 
and K= -03 x N ' load on piston in pounds. 
The length of a connecting rod is usually two and 
a half to three times the stroke of the piston. 
159 and 160 show two other types of 
connect inu rod ends, both of which have solid 
and adju-tahle hra--c-. The former is 
adju-tahle by cottar, and ha- a I'abbitt lining; 
the flanges of the brasses are left oil on the top 

The valves for / 
may be taken from 
- the table on the 
_ next page. 
Ordinary crank- 
^j shafts with over- 
hung cranks may 
be calculated for 
combined bending 
and twisting in a 
similar manner to 
the example given 
in 49 on page 3135. 

166. ECCENTRIC Sadr'in^order^o 

save weight of material ; the least effective 
portion of a shaft is the central part, and by 




removing it the weight of the shaft is dimin- 
ished in a greater proportion than the strength. 

Angle be- ") 
twcen cranks f 



i ! 
120 140 160 , 180 

I i 

Valve for/ .. 



1 ' i 
855 788 751 740 


The modulus of a hollow circular section is 
found by subtracting the moment of inertia 
of the inner diameter from the moment of inertia 
of the outer diameter and dividing by the radius 


and pin may be separate pieces, in which case 
the cranks are swelled out to fit over the 
shaft and over the pin; the thickness of 
metal allowed in the swelled parts should not 
be less than -4 of the shaft diameter. 

Cast-iron crank discs are made as 162, the 
crank-pin is fitted in tightly, and the end 
riveted over ; the metal is thickened up at 
the side opposite the pin for the purpose of 
balancing the connecting-rod head. 

Main Bearings. An example of an en- 
gine main bearing is given in 163. The brass 
is in four parts so as to permit adjustm nt 
all round the shaft. The top and bottom 
parts are adjusted in the usual way, but the 
side portions are set up by means of a taper 




of the outer diameter. A table of moments of 
inertia is given on page 3134. 

Cranks may be forged with the crankshaft, or 
they may be separate pieces keyed on the shaft. 
A forged cra-nk is shown in 161 ; it is generally 
machined all over, and the ends turned in the 
lathe about the centre, A. The diameter of the 
pin, B, is usually the same diameter as the 
shaft ; the width, C, is one and a quarter times 
the shaft diameter, and the thickness, D, is three- 
quarter times the shaft diameter. The cranks 

block and screws, as shoAvn ; the drawing 
explains itself. 

Flywheels, The theory of flywheels is dis- 
cussed on page 2018 in Mechanical Engineering. 
Fig. 164 shows an ordinary flywheel ; the rim is 
solid and is arranged with pockets round the 
periphery ; these pockets are used for starting the 
wheel from rest when the engine is on dead points. 
The appliance which effects the starting is termed 
a barring gear, and may range from a simple 
lever to a separate small engine. The arms of the 




run. The 

boss has wro 
vr it increased strength. 

. areusedtogiverecip- 
ru-itin" motion to thr valve-rods on an engine; 
a comm,n pie, shown in 166. The inner 
part. or Ibwve, A. is keyed to the shaft t 
!,.,. ,,f tin- sheave does not coincide with the 
,,,,,. ,,f thr shaft : the distance apart, B ; o ! the 
ts half a stroke of the strap G, 
and thr re, ,-ntricrod is bolted up to the end, U. 
Hoth strap and sheave are in halves for con- 
venience of rmrwal. Imt the sheave is not always 
in halves; thr straps must be made so on 
account of getting over the register, which 
keeps it sideways. 

Valves. A simple D valve is shown in 
various positions of stroke in 167 to 170 ; the 
stroke of the valve is due to the eccentric, in 
167 thr valve is just open to steam, the piston 
is at the beginning of its stroke, and the connect- 
ing rod and crank are in a horizontal line that 
, dead centres. The exhaust port is nearly 
full open. In 168 the valve is full open to both 
. \haust and steam, the piston is travelling 
along the cylinder, and the crank is at 45 deg. 

In 169 the valvr is reversed by the eccentric, 
and has closed thr steam-port, the piston is 
moving forward under the influence of the 
expanding steam, and the exhaust is partially 
i ; the crank is well over 90 deg. In 170 
th- .-xhau-t i- closed and thr valve is moving 
to open steam for the n -verbal of the piston 
Chore an- many ty{>cs of valves inruse, 
luit their duties are ' all identical namely, 
to regulate the flow of steam and exhaust to 
and from the cylinder economically. 

Pumps. An air-pump together with two 

pump* are shown in 171. The air-pump 

l.ra-s. though not necessarily so, and the 

thiekne^s of its walls is kept down to a minimum, 

The piston is termed 

iiid is tilted with non-return valves for 

lift 'i the top and bottom of the pump 

; \\iih separate plates carrying similar 

valv> The l>ilt_'e-pumps an- of heavier metal, 

,\e to pump against a head ; they are 

Med for pumping the i>il<_'e-watT from steamships. 

plunder displaces a volum'- of water equal 

to its l.uik -it ea.-h stroke. Roth bihie-pumps 

the air-pump are driven from a single 

crossl.. -ad. op, -rat. <! by the air-pump levers. The 

pump valv.-s aie simple in construction, and 

.11 the piping connected to the pumps. 
In an engine litted with a jet condenser, 
iiovc the condensed steam, 

tl" ' " ond'-n-in-j the steam, and the 

; I with the water. In a surface 

1 "" "' 

tin- aii -pump mix- 
MOdeOMd lU*m ami any air which may enter 

'"' < '"'/"/ ; followed by DRAWING FOE SHEET-METAL WORKERS 

the engine; the condensing water in such 
cases is dealt with by separate pumps, termed 
circulating pumps. 

Size of Air=pump. The size of the air- 
pump for a condensing engine may be dete 
mined by the following rule : 

Indicated H.P. 
Volume of air-pump = - reys per min - 

where C= 700 for single-acting and jet con- 
C = 300 for single-acting and surtace 

C = 470 for double-acting horizontal 

pump and jet condenser. 

Another rule is to make the capacity of the 
air-pump one-twelfth of the capacity of the low- 
pressure cylinder. There are so many contin- 
gencies to be allowed for in the working of an 
air-pump that pure theory cannot be relied 
upon in the design. The action of the pump 
is not perfect inasmuch as it does not remove 
at each stroke an amount of water, etc., equal 
to its capacity. Ordinary pumps are defective 
enough in this respect, but air-pumps, and 
particularly vertical ones, are very inefficient. 
The speed of the pump affects its efficiency to a 
great extent ; the best results are obtained at 
a bucket-speed not exceeding 200 ft. per minute ; 
many examples are, however, to be found 
running at as high a speed as 450 ft. per minute 
at a lower efficiency. 

The limit of speed is that at which the water 
can follow the bucket and so provide a full 
barrel for the next stroke, and this in turn depends 
upon the vacuum maintained. The pressure of 
the atmosphere is 14-7 Ib. per square inch, and 
a good vacuum is 2 Ib. per square inch ; it is 
not possible to maintain a perfect vacuum in 
practice. The theoretical velocity of water 
under a pressure of 2 Ib. per square inch is 
1,025 ft. per minute, but it would not do to 
speed the pump bucket accordingly. Allowance 
must be made for friction, for the inertia of the 
water, and for the presence of air and gases in 
the water ; this can only be determined by prac- 
tice, and the speed range of 200 ft. to 450 ft. per 
minute as given above is deduced therefrom. 

Fouls. It will be noticed upon examination 
of the sectional elevation of 171 that one bucket 
valve is shown dotted at the upper end of the 
stroke, while the bucket itself is shown at the 
lower end of the stroke ; there is an object 
in doing this, and one which must be ever present 
with the designer of moving machinery. 

Wherever one part of a machine moves rela- 
tively to another part it must be drawn in its 
extreme, and sometimes intermediate, positions 
in order to avoid fouls. All the various move- 
ments must be carefully plotted on paper 
beforehand in such a way as to ensure the 
complete and smooth working of the whole 
machine. It sometimes happens during manu- 
facture that through an oversight in the drawing 
office a machine cannot complete a cycle of 
movements without a foul of some nature. 


The Editor of a Great Newspaper. Functions and Ideals of 
Editing. The Editor's Duties to His Readers. Office Journalism 

Group 19 



HTO be the editor of a great newspaper is an 
achievement of which any man may well be 
proud. To help to shape the opinion of a nation 
or to entertain it in its leisure hours is a function 
which, if it is honourably fulfilled, rightly 
brings a man esteem and fame. There is not 
a journalist with the essence of journalism in 
his soul who would not rather be an editor 
in deed than a prince in name. 

The Ideal Editor. It is a compelling 
theme, the business of the man whose pen 
Napoleon feared more than 30,000 bayonets. 
Nothing could be much more interesting, if 
we had space, than to consider it in its 
relation to life and affairs. Nothing could be 
more interesting, and nothing could be more 
comprehensive. For the editor is a many- 
sided man, who touches the world at all the 
points we can conceive. His duties and 
responsibilities reach out through countless 
avenues. He owes to every man in his public 
relations the consideration which one gentleman 
owes to another ; it is one of the first maxims 
of his life to do nothing as a journalist that he 
would not do as a gentleman. He has something 
of the duty of the preacher to lead people 
towards the right and warn them from the 
wrong. He must have some of the foresight 
and something of the delicate craft of statesman- 
ship. He must have the ingenuity of the 
advocate with the impartiality of the judge, 
and he must weigh great problems in all their 
bearings as if he were a jury. He must be able 
to exercise the grave care of a doctor who hides 
the truth from his patient for his patient's 
good ; he must know exactly what to say and 
when to say it. He must have the soul of the 
artist for interpreting and revealing the meaning 
of things ; he must be moved by the spirit 
rather than by the letter. He must have the 
imagination of the poet with the veracity of 
the scientist. He must have the astuteness 
and caution of the diplomatist when a crisis 
is looming, the calmness of the philosopher 
and the dignity of a king when the crisis has 
come. He must be a patriot in the highest 
sense of patriotism, with a love for his own 
country the more profound because he loves the 
human race. He must have, all this is to say, 
far more than an average share of the qualities 
of the ideal man. 

The Ideal Paper. Somewhere, far away 
from Fleet Street, is such an editor ; somewhere, 
farther from Fleet Street still, is his ideal paper. 

The ideal paper is the story of men and 
women. That, after all, is the beginning and 
the end of papers. It is the business of a paper 
to compel a great public to read it, and the ideal 
paper comes with such compelling force as it 

can find in the simple, human story of the 

It finds its interest in no narrower field ; 
it draws its drama from no narrower stage than 
the world in which all the men and women are 
actors. It tells us, week by week, the wonder- 
ful story of the world we live in such a story 
as bewilders the writer of fiction, stranger in 
its truth than dreams, more startling in its 
reality than all imaginings, more beautiful in 
its unfolding than all the poet's thought. It 
tells the story of men and women, the story of 
a man and a maid. " It cometh unto us with 
a tale which holdeth children from play, and 
old men from the chimney corner." 

The Editor's Raw Material. So 
entrancing, could it be brought before us, is 
the history of our own times. There died not 
long ago, unnoticed in our papers, an old woman 
in a country poor-house, lifting the veil in her last 
moment from the tragic mystery of a Royal Court. 
There was carried from a lowly house, not many 
years ago, the dead body of the president of a 
great republic which has never known the truth 
of his strange end. There passed away by fire 
a year or two ago a beautiful woman, a sister 
of two queens, who would have been a queen 
herself had not a king broken his word ; there 
lives still a woman whom the same king loved, 
who might have left a village inn for a German 
throne, but who, instead, came in a boat upon 
a lake one day to see her young king drown. 
Almost in the shadow of our own King's castle 
lives a widow who sat upon the throne of France. 
Not an hour's journey from her there lay, the 
other day, broken in fortune and at the door of 
death, a widow whose winsomeness split 
parties in the House of Commons and dashed 
a nation's hope. The greatest of all human 
stories is written by the hand of Fate. 

The Scope of the Paper. That, as 
far as it can be stated in a word, is the 
keynote of the ideal paper. It is human. 
It is true. It is interesting because it is life. 
It takes account, not of names, but of things. 
It is planned on no arbitrary lines, but is 
fashioned by affairs as they occur. It picks 
up the threads of romance wherever they may 
be found. Itknows neither time nor place ; it 
gathers its story from the ends of the earth 
and from all ages. It is universal in its scope. 
It appeals to the man who has read everything 
and to the man who has read nothing. It is 
conducted on the principle that nothing interest- 
ing is ever old, and that everything human is 

It believes that men and women are interested 
in themselves and in the race. It realises that 
the most wonderful thing in the world is the 



world itself : that the tin.** we know least 
ahout an- the tiling of which we wish to know 
most. It tinds romance in the sky and 
bottom of the M*. It does what in a paper 
lies to make men and women know themselves 
It tells th- rtory of all the great discoveries and 
inventions that an- .-hanging the face of the earth. 
\\V l.vr in an .-#' 'f miracles 1 never 
han.ll,- th,- telephone without realising that 
am handling a mystery," Sir William Crookes 
has told us, and he puts well the truth that, 
so far and so fast has the world moved, that 
-eatest mysteries in the universe are almost 
mmmonplace. We lay our sixpence on t 
post-office counter and think nothing of 

wires which will convey our message 
Kdinburgh to St. Ives before we are at 
th.- bottom of the street. We open our papers 
in the morning as carelessly as if it were not a 
min.rle which has brought to our breakfast- 
table the history of the last twenty-four hours 
from every part of the earth. We strike a match 
without thinking that the light that comes is 
nothing less than a bit of sunlight imprisoned 
in the earth for thousands of years. We switch 
on the electric light without fear and trembling, 
playing like children with the appalling power 
of which science knows almost nothing. We 
pluck a rose without a thought of the unseen and 
.silent forces which have wrought so beautiful 
a thing. 

A Human Picture of the World. 

The romance of the world can never be written, 

run hardly be conceived. But such threads as 

ran t>e caught the ideal paper takes, weaving 

th-m into the picture of our day. It has all the 

faults of a paper made in haste and read at 

leisure, all the evidences that a penny, after all, 

cannot buy everything. But it is an enthusiastic 

make up the best magazine of 

helpful and interesting journalism that can be 

secured for its price. It makes its appeal 

to all from the smallest child who would 

hear a story, to the man who would know 

what new thought has been spoken, what new 

height in science has been reached, what is 

happening in any part of the world that will 

its mark on history. Nor does it ignore the 

prohl.-nis of life. Every issue of it discusses 

some serial .subject of interest to the individual 

'he home. It strives to bring the best 

thoughts to bear on the best topics of the day; 

1 t he 1 1 ut h as well as the romance from 

iffaire of the world ; to keep itself abreast 

of all that hapjK-ns that an intelligent man or 

\\oman should know, to be, from beginning to 

ui'l helpful and true. 

'I'll" '" i human pit tine of the world, 

beating with the lives and thr hearts of men. 

It i- the paper of a dream, the dream of every 

ik,-. How near sometimes we get 

lime* we are, is a good 

or ill fortune d. -pendent on many things within 

without the editor's control. It is not 

I'd in tin. OOOfM, ner, -^arily brief and 

. and in no sense exhaustive, to go 

into nil the que-tions that eonir to the mind 

tth-n we meditat.- up m editors and papers. 


Those who have read so far will have formed 
some conception of what we hold journalism to 
be those who have reached this stage in actual 
journalism will need no advice here as to how 
to advance still further. All that we need attempt 
is a brief consideration of one or two practical 
matters concerning the editor and his staff. 

Good Copy and Bad. The editor must 
not succumb to the temptation, so strong in 
these days, to think more of the machinery of 
his paper than of its readers. The story of 
how he obtained a piece of news may be 
interesting, and in some cases it may be quite 
legitimate to tell it ; but the chief matter is the 
news itself, and not the getting of it. It is, of 
course, important sometimes to know the source 
from which news comes, but the talk about these 
things has come to be more of a desire to advertise 
the paper's machinery than to satisfy the public 
as to the authority of the news, and in so far as 
this is its object, all display is to be condemned. 
Waste of space is one of the unpardonable sins. 
One of the most remarkable popular delusions 
is that editors are gasping for something to put in 
their papers. The difficulty at the last moment 
is always, " What can we leave out ? " 

That question must be decided by the editor, 
who knows his readers. He will probably decide 
to leave out the thing that interests the least 
number, although this may not always be 
so. He will, at any rate, leave out the non- 
essentials first. His whole purpose in leaving out 
news will be to sacrifice as little of the general 
interest of his paper as possible. Only long 
experience of editing can help him here, but he 
should have no difficulty in deciding what copy 
is good, and what copy is bad. An editor con- 
fesses his own weakness when he publishes long 
accounts of trivial things, or allows anybody who 
has nothing better to do to occupy his space by 
writing silly letters. The standard of letter- 
writing in papers is much too low, and it is simply 
bad journalism which enables a man to become 
notorious by writing letters about gravestones 
when he has nothing to say about them that 
matters to anybody. 

The Chief Figure in the Editor's World. 
The editor is safe from these temptations if he 
remembers that the most important person in all 
the world to him is the reader of his paper not 
the advertiser, not the proprietor, not the man 
with a log to roll or an axe to grind, but the man 
who buys his paper to read it. 

One of the worst enemies of journalism is the 
proprietor or commercial manager of a paper, 
usually calling himself the managing-editor, who, 
knowing nothing about a paper save that it 
prints advertisements, dictates to the editor 
how he shall edit. The last person in such a man's 
mind is the reader of the paper. One of the best 
of these managing-editors that we have known 
once refused to order the report of a speech by 
Mr. John Morley, owing to a dispute between his 
paper and a certain press agency. It was nothing 
to him that he was withholding from his readers 
something it was his duty to give them, some- 
thing the great majority of them expected to see 
when they opened the paper ; it was everything 

to him that he should spite the face of the press 
agency even by cutting off his own nose. 

The Morality of Editing. Somebody 
will write a book some day, perhaps, on the 
morality of editing, and it will contain many 
examples of this kind. It will also publish a 
copy of an announcement in a provincial morn- 
ing paper that " in attending meetings, etc., 
preference will be given to those fixtures adver- 
tised in our business columns." It will print 
such letters as that written by the manager 
of a well-known evening paper in reply to a 
publisher who had sent him books for years, 
and had had no reviews. The publisher wrote to 
ask if the paper wished him to continue sending 
the books, and the manager replied that his news- 
paper believed in the old-fashioned principle 
of quid pro quo, and as the publishers did not 
advertise in it they got no reviews." These are 
the things which distress the journalist who 
conceives it his duty to be a faithful recorder 
of news, and to keep his readers well informed 
about literature ; but they are done, let us 
remember, not by journalists, but by men to 
whom a newspaper is a thing for advertising pills. 

The good editor knows every man on his staff, 
He knows where to turn when, late at night, he 
wants a leading article quickly, a special intro- 
duction to some important event, or a sketch of 
somebody's career. He knows the man on whom 
he can rely for initiative, for descriptive power, 
for getting hold of people, for evolving theories, 
and following them up. And if the good editor 
knows his man, the good journalist knows his 
editor. He knows his editor's point of view, under- 
stands his purpose, and responds to it. 

The Men an Editor Likes. The news 
editor of a newspaper with a reputation for 
enterprise throughout the world has written for 
the SELF-EDUCATOR his conception of the kind of 
men an editor likes to have about him. He says : 

" The sub-editor needs a good education, and 
especially a sound knowledge of spelling ; a 
catholic and quick judgment as regards the 
value of neAvs, and a clear conception as to the 
most interesting form in which the news is to 
be printed in his paper. He should be well 
informed generally an ordinary school or 
college education is adequate, coupled with a 
close study of newspapers, whereby he assimilates 
the events of the day He should have a keen 
recollection of occurrences in the past, immediate 
and more remote, an unfailing memory for 
names, a sound judgment as to ' possibilities ' 
in the reports which reach him. Shorthand is 
useful, but not vital 

" The older sub-editing is, for the most part, 
the abbreviation, the punctuation, and the check- 
ing of reports sent to the office, either telegraphed 
or written ; the newer sub-editing for instance, 
of the ultra-modern papers requires extensive 
rewriting and constructive reproduction. All 
this can be acquired by practice. Patience, 
however, is necessary, method essential, and 
discretion vital. Only by the possession of 
these qualities by its sub-editorial staff can a 
paper attain a high standard. 


" While a sub-editor should have a general 
knowledge of newspaper work and an all-round 
education, he should at least know one modern 
language, preferably French, and should 
specialise on one subject for instance, medicine. 
Finally, he should never be above verifying a 
reference or checking a quotation. And" in his 
spare time, if he has any, let him make himself 
familiar with events outside his office. The best 
sub-editor is always a ' man of the world.' He 
knows the public pulse and the public taste, and 
can better estimate thereby the specific value 
to be attached to specific news. 

"No one unless possessed of strong physique 
should become a sub-editor. The work is 
sedentary, and the strain on the nervous system 
severe. There are always openings for good 
men. But it is essentially routine newspaper 
work, which only needs ordinary intelligence, 
rightly trained ; and few persons of special 
genius ever devote themselves to it for long, 
for it offers no opportunities for ambition, and 
exercises a numbing influence on its votaries." 

Office Journalism. We can now leave 
office journalism. We have considered all too 
briefly the work of a newspaper journalist, 
from the moment he makes up his mind to 
become a journalist to the time he becomes an 
editor ; and we have now to consider that wider 
field in which journalism ceases to be a profession 
and is open to all the world. It is not necessary 
to discuss the thousand and one duties of an 
editor, which the journalist must learn for him- 
self. We have said nothing of the salaries paid 
in a newspaper office, because it is impossible to 
give any figures which would not be misleading 
in some cases. The apprentice who enters the 
reporters' room may begin with a few shillings a 
week, and rise until at the end of his apprentice- 
ship he receives, perhaps, 16s. or 1 per week. 
In an ordinary town he may then receive a salary 
of 2 or 3 a week as either reporter or sub- 
editor ; or in a large town, such as Manchester or 
Birmingham, a salary of 5 or 6 a week. The 
custom is growing of paying reporters according 
to the work they do instead of a fixed salary, 
and this custom, often adopted in London, is 
preferred by some reporters. In this way a 
reporter may earn as much as 10 or 15 in a 
week if he is fortunate. In any case, if he is 
a good, reliable man he can always be sure cf 
a living income in London. Necessary expenses 
are always allowed. A sub-editor's salary is, of 
course, fixed, and may be anything in London 
from 4 to 10 a week. 

Whether as reporter, sub-editor, leader writer, 
musical or dramatic critic, special correspondent, 
or in any other capacity, the journalist will find 
opportunities for distinction inside the news- 
paper office. Office journalism has its drawbacks. 
It involves long hours, and leaves a man little 
freedom of movement. But it has abundant 
compensations, and he may look forward, if he 
is strong and willing and enthusiastic, with the 
certainty that he will have plenty of opportunity 
of putting into his work the best that is in him. 


Group 20 



noon *D M"H 


The Machines and Processes in Factory Practice. Click- 
ing, Machining", Skiving, Buttonholing and Finishing 


Cutting Tops. Machinery is not much 
us.-d in tin- cutting-rooms of factories producing 
-lass boots. The matter has often been 
debated on this side of the Atlantic, because on 
tin- otlu-r side cutting machines are largely used. 
American methods, however, differ largely from 
Kor our own trade the subject may be 
lered in this way. Leather is not like a 
wdi of doth, the uniform quality of which can 
be depended on. A web of cloth is the same 
breadth and thickness throughout, and one web 
is exactly like another. On the other hand, no 
tuo hide's of leather are similar in every respect, 
and qualities vary indefinitely, even in the 
same class of stuff. In cutting up leather, the 
selective eye cannot be dispensed with. 

Cutting by Machinery. If a man is 
prepared to risk defects and incur a large per- 
-ije of waste, he may go in for cutting by 
machinery. Under special circumstances, per- 
haps, the loss in waste is balanced by the saving 
in wages, for machines in this department do 
effect enormous savings in labour. Working with 
cheap leathci, for a coarse trade, the manufac- 
turer may find cutting by machinery a paying 
Business ; but with leather costing about 3s. per 
II). all over, and buyers scanning every fibre for 
damage, hand-cutting is the safest and the best. 
The Clicker. The dicker, as we name the 
utter, has a bench space all to himself, and 
iai floss of boot to cut. In a factory pro- 
'U' for an all-round trade, clickers are ranged 
in i -lasses or sections, one section cutting for the 
dc|,irtm<-nt, another for the girls', 
t for tin- women's, for the boys', for the 
t< >r t he fancy departments. Some large 
ive over ;v hundred clickers working, 
divided into sections varying in number from 
rdiML' to' t'n.- class of trade or 
system of management. When it i> mm -inhered 
li- tops of a pair of hatf-gcloahed Balmoral 
: pieces, including linings, the 
of division and subdivision are 
ol>\ i 

ClicKing a SKilled Craft. Clicking in 

th- factory differs little from top-cutting for 

boot. The clicker is a handi- 

'ii"d to sho\v special skill 

within v.-ry n.,rrow timite. He should be able 

the different --la^so. kinds, and 

His duty in to detect <|. 

">d plan to cut out of the 

in the moM economical manner po-iUe 

''" k "' vh " thet i- certain to be 

unemployed more fr.-. |1n . M ,| v th an 

We have already shown a 

t the kinds and patterns of leathers 

i for th.- hoot trade in this 

country, illustrating the distinguishing qualities 
of each [see Plate facing page 3217]. 

The ClicKer at Work. Now, let us get to 
work. Knives [29, page 3875] are the clickers' 
tools, and he must keep them in good condition. 
The slightest roughness on the blade may mean a 
ragged edge on the leather just at that point 
where it has been cut neat. A properly organised 
factory gives out work cards, with the details 
of the particular job specified. Suppose that our 
work card contains the order for a dozen of 
half-goloshed Balmoral boots, of first-class 
quality. The quarters are to be the best calf -kid, 
the golosh and vamps French calf, and the 
facing* and toecaps patent or enamel leather. 
Having selected the pieces, we next go to the 
pattern file, and take off the set of patterns 
proper to the size of boot. Before beginning to 
cut, plan out the stuff ; a little forethought may 
save the leather of a pair of tops. When 
assured that the most has been made of the 
material, take the patterns and carefully cut 
cleanly and swiftly. Mind the corners. If the 
points have been well cut, every piece will come 
away as cleanly as if it had been struck by a die. 
Ragged ends give you more work, or somebody 
else has to lose time in rectifying the defect. 

Linings. The linings and other accessories 
are similarly gathered. For light boots of the 
best quality fine leathers are sometimes used ; 
but good drill serves the purpose quite well. 

Small Machines. We have said that 
machinery is not wholly debarred from the 
clicking-room. Tongues, toecaps, and the other 
small additions are generally cut by machines 
worked by boys. Neat little things those 
machines are. Here is one, looking very like a 
sewing machine, and it is used for cutting out 
and perforating toecaps, cutting and scolloping 
button-flaps, and such purposes [47]. Another 
little machine, equally interesting and efficient, is 
the tongue and backstrap cutter. The knives can 
be adjusted to any angle, and scraps of leather 
pas^-d through come out well-shaped tongues. 
The backstraps, of course, are of good leather ; 
but the pieces may be useless otherwise, and the 
machine makes them into fine straps in the 
twinkling of an eye. As there is nothing to 
learn in these machines, elaborate study of them 
i> needless. Any lad brought in from the street 
an be taught to work them in a very short time. 

\Ve iratlii-r together our stuff, and bundle it 
up, each part separately, and hand along to the 
inspecting department. Thence the tops pass 
into the machine-room, and begin the journey 
towards the destined end. 

The conditions under which clickers work 
are usually very good and healthy, light and 


ventilation being p 
purely economic mo 
but not very well pi 
Patterns and M 
material is elaborat 
patterns. The patl 
trouble, and materu 
rests the efficiency 
He it is who gives 
which he must cut s 
Thousands o 
piece of stiff paper 
[see 30, page 4015]. 
For every part of 
every size and class 
of boot there is a 
pattern. In this 
way the pattern- 
maker seems to 
have plenty of 
work before him ; 
but that is not 
all. New shapes 
are being devised 
every week, and a 
factory producing 
for a high - class 
shop trade has a 
thousand or two 
special measures 
coming in every 
week. No decent- 
sized factory can 
get along with less 
than ten thousand 
different patterns, 
and these dupli- 
cated as required 
by the number of 
clickers employed 
on each class of 
Wh e n . a new 

rovided by employers from 
tives. The work is pleasant, 
Measurements. Wherever; 
ely cut out, there must be 
,ern everywhere saves time, 
1.1. Upon the pattern-maker 
of the whole boot factory. 
5 the clicker the shapes to 
ill the parts of the boot-top. 
Shapes. A shape is a 
cut to a given form and size 

a common standard almos 
bility. In the course of exp 
approximation has been at 
ready-made boot has a cha 
Factory managers assert 
boot fits the average foo 
average hand-made boot, 
misfit, the margin of erro 
reduced to a minimum by 
of sizes. 
Measurements. Th< 
of measurements and note 

t a matter of impossi- 
?rience, however, a fair 
rived at, and now the 
ace of being a good fit. 
that the ready-made 
t just as well as the 
and does not so often 
r in the former being 
the scientific grading 

5 tables [see pago 4435] 
^s have been compiled 
from the experience 
1 of one of the largest, 
1 if not the largest, 
J! boot factories on 
U this side of the 
Atlantic. Based on 
a long and wide ex- 
perience, we think 
they are reliable 
and, in some ways, 
the Boot = tops. 
This department of 
the boot factory 
has been taken 
possession of 
almost wholly by 
the fair sex. Nor 
can the productive 
capacity of the in- 
dustry be said to 
have suffered on 
that account. It 
has been calcu- 
lated, from every- 
day experience, 
that, in a well - 
equipped factory, 
the girls employed 
in top-making turn 
out, on the average, 
iorty pairs of tops 
per head every 
week. Machines 
driven at enormous 
speed perform the 
work. For every 
little detail there is 
a machine or group 
of machines. Yet 
skill and keen 
attention are de- 
manded from the 
women workers. 
Skill Re = 
quired. The 
machines are not 
automatic. A fairly 
good idea of the 
ability required 
may be gathered 
from the domestic 
sewing machine. It 
is a curious fact, 
and worth noting, 

* * * 

,x- .\' 

M:-: *::*_:;: 

>:>::: *:::' 

X X X X * X X 

, ' '" ' ' 

. ...+.+ 


A A A A A A A A J 

, A A A A A A A ' 

or a new style of 

+ 1 + 1 + 1 + I + 

the pattern-maker 
has to calculate 
how much of the 
total area of sur- 
face represented 
by these measure- 

* * '* *<** ^ * ' 


portioned to each 
part of the boot. 
These proportions 
are determined by 
the design of the 
The Fit of 
Factory Boots. 
Measurements in 
the boot factory 
have been a source 
of great trouble. 

the proportions of 47 STYLES OF LEAT HER PERFORATIONS 
feet making fit by (B . u. Shoe Machine Co., Leicester 

15 *7 C, 


,hat all our Loot-top machinery has been 
:i,-il ..i the principle of the sewing machine. 
ttUnerOOfl ami dainty details of boot-top 
makiiu.' lend themselves to that particular 
nu-thod of treatment. At the present time the 
probably unique in this respect. Instead 
:,inir th- tools and forming them into an 
automatic group scarcely recognisable, as he has 
done in other industries, the inventor simply 
took the tools of the boot-top maker and put 
thrm into machinery, so that they might be 
mcc hank-ally driven at more than human speed. 
Variety of Machines. This fact has lent 
itself to another development which may be 
confusing to the student of the trade. Because 
the needle, the awl, the punch, the knife, and the 
ha miner are the common property of the human 
race, it is open to anyone to gear them on to 
driving inventions, with the result that there are 
many different machines for every conceivable 
detail of boot making, and for some parts the 
number runs into high figures. After having 
mastered one machine in a factory, the worker 
may find herself confronted by a form of machine 
utterly unfamiliar. This need cause no dismay. 
The difference is more apparent than real, and 
in a few hours, or at most days, the new machine 
will have become as familiar and easily worked 
as the old. 

Skiving. When making boots by hand, we 
saw how carefully the pieces to be joined were 
thinned off, so as to make the point of contact as 
unobtrusive as possible. In the factory, skiving 
is even more imperatively required, because neat- 
ness is one of the special merits of machine pro- 
duction. The skiving blade [see 31, page 4017], 
which is all that we need attend to, is a flat piece 
of sharp steel set horizontally on a spindle work- 
ing above an automatic feed. Lay in the vamp, 
and immediately the edged disc begins to shave 
away the leather. Almost while you look the 
work w done. The circular blade runs at the 
rate of J.OOO revolutions a minute. One thing 
is noteworthy in this skiver. No matter how 
fine the workmanship of the hand worker, some 
little difference is apt to come in between one 
hkiving and another on the boot-top ; but this 
line automatically gives the same breadth 
-ive at all limes. Every part of the upper 
i\. d This part of the work done, 
the stuff is parsed \\ to the sewers. 

Sewing. The up-to-date factory has nothing 

but tin- ii'-w. >witt model of sewing machine. 

. -ionally, however, the worker may be called 

"I"" >ld. i kinds. Those old-fashioned 

marh i.uilt under a mistaken idea ; it 

was supposed that heavy machines only could 

do hea\y work, Clumsy things they are, with 

arms like th.i-.i- of hydraulic riveters, and a grip 

to hold down the plate of an 

When working one of these 

the tearion of the ihi,-k thread should 

ndeii to. beoaoM th.- stitch may 
' l -left slack, and the whole mechanism 

jump if the tension be too tight. 

d.- in imitation of hand- 

'" l ' i 'I machines are still useful. For 

the modern ma.'hines mostly u^-d, direction is 

hardly needed. The worker lays in the work and 
the machine does the rest. This machine, on 
which a pile of plain uppers are being sewn, has 
one needle, and makes a single row of stitching 
forward, and doubles the row by bringing back 
the seam. Another group of machines do double 
rows at once with two needles working at the 
same time, locking the two threads within the 
cords from two shuttles. 

Difference in Ability. No one ought 
to imagine that machining boot-tops is easy 
work. The mechanical appliances are wonderfully 
perfect, but the human factor can never be 
eliminated. Side by side, working the same kind 
of machine, driven by the same motive power, 
the output of workers differs widely. Of two 
girls, both equally conscientious, the abler will 
take 20 per cent, more work out of a machine 
than her less expert neighbour. Where simple 
processes are constantly repeated, little delays 
amount to large losses in the aggregate. Delays 
arise from inattention to the setting of the seam, 
careless management of the spools and threads, 
and too frequent changes of work. The last cause 
of delay is a matter of management, but the 
others, and many too small for special mention, 
lie in the power of the worker. 

Seam Finishing. When the bootmaker 
has sewn a seam, he taps it down level with his 
hammer. Machine-sewn seams are also rough and 
obtrusive, and inventive genius has given us 
quite a number of seam finishers. One form is 
directly imitative of the hand hammer, with a 
hammer head set on the end of an arm driven 
by power ; another is a wheel under a spring 
block, which presses the seams with a rubbing 
motion ; and others combine the two principles, 
with varying degrees of success. All the models 
are simple and easy to work, and three or four 
kinds may be used, the one being regarded as 
specially good for one purpose, and the others for 
work of differing classes. Most generally applic- 
able, and most favoured, is the mechanical 
hammer. Vibrating at the rate of 1,200 beats a 
minute, the hammer does the work rapidly and 
prettily. Lay the seam neatly on the block, and 
let the hammer play upon it while drawing it 
round. We need hardly say that the operator's 
intelligence is called upon to some extent in 
working this machine. Stitches tightly drawn, 
or hard threads, may be pulled asunder if pro- 
vision is not made for vibration ; but the differ- 
ences can be readily adjusted by the exercise of 
a little common-sense. 

Seam Rubbers. For light tops, ladies' 1 kid 
and fancy boots, the seam rubbers are probably 
the safest. These contrivances are certainly very 
finely adjusted, and work prettily. One of the 
l>cst seam-rubber machines has a solid wheel 
running under a fixed disc, dependent on springs 
adjustable to any pressure, and therefore fitted to 
meet the variations in the thickness of the 
leathers. All the working parts are in sight, and 
can l>c operated upon by a young worker. 

Bagging. Another small auxiliary of the 
sewer is the bagging machine. When the linings 
have been joined to the tops the joints are round 
and slack. Flaps of button boots are simply 






_e 00 




l c .s 

























5> d 

C .3 



s g 







0> " 




> d 




























lOy 4 ^ 











12 i 








Remarks as No. 1. 

NOTES. The sizes range from 5 up to 11. We give 
length of foot in sizes and the length of foot in 
inches. We then follow on giving joints measure- 
ments, instep and heel and ankle measurements. 

(A) A siz^e equals yrr in. in length. 

(B) A fitting equals in. small and large. 

(C) Girth measure from size to size equals J in. 

(D) Width of bottom of last from size to size 
and fitting to fitting, yV in. 

(E) Extension of last over the length of foot : 
Square toes, 2 size equals $r in. ; medium toes, 
2J size equals y^ in. ; spike toes, 3 size equals 






8 . 



G + 

^- 02 

x c 

<H cB 





I' s 







BI > 




5 T V 



















8 12 









6 f 







9 '" 






9y 4 7 







Q s" 








(A) A size equals y 4 .r in. in length. 

(B) Girth measurement from size to size, f {j- in. 
for 7 to 19 ; girth measurement from size to size, 
y 4 ,- in. for 11 to 1; girth measurement from size to 
size, -yg- in. for 2 to 5. 

(C) Width of bottom of last from size to size, ^ in. 
for 7 to 10; width of bottom of last from size to size, 
yV in. for 11 to 1; width of bottom of last from size 
to size, yV in. for 2 to 5. 

(D) Extension of last over the length of foot: Square 
toes, 1 size equals ylj in. ; medium toes, 2 size equals 
ytrin. ; spike toes, 2 i size equals y? in. 

Same notes apply as on No. 1 A to D. 

(E) Extension of last over the length of 
Square toe, 1 J size equals yij in - ' medium toe, 
equals y^r in. ; spike toe, 2 size equals yr! in. 

foot : 
2 size 






.2 2 











(A) A size equals y 4 .? in. in length. 

(B) Girth measurements from size to size, fy in. 
for 7 to 10 ; girth measurements from size to size, 
ft in. for 11 to 1. 

(C) Width of bottom from size to size, ft in - for 
7 to 10 ; width of bottom from size to size, ft in. 
for 11 to 1. 

(D) Extension of last over the length of foot : 
Square toes, 1 size equals -fir in.; medium toes, 2 
size equals y^r in. ; spike toes, 2f size equals yf in. 





(A) A size equals y 4 .r in. in length. 

(B) Girth measurement from size to size, f <y in. 

(C) Width of bottom from sizejto size, ft in. 

(D) Extension of last over the length of foot : 
Square toes, 1 size equals y 4 ^ in.; medium toes, If 
size equals y'g in. 



b*gs sewn on the inside and turned out. To 
MI ike thr Haps solid and flat, the seams must 
i>. pressed somehow. Here we have a machine 
i-i ( t tli.- nc-d. It is double-jawed. On the 
under j;iw is a long finger of electroplated metal, 
i solid round disc sits in thr upper jaw. Place 
the ll.ip on tli" top of the finger, and bring the 
upp'-r j.tu do\\n The finger vibrates on the seam 
in-idc. and tin- disc rolls on the outside, the pair 
!x-t ween them reducing the bag to an apparently 
solid piece of leather with a fine edge. 

Buttonholing. Button boots are pro- 
d in large quantities, of all sizes, by the 
In fact, the popularity of that class of 
boot is almost wholly due to the cheapening 
effect of machinery. Anyone who looks at a 
Imttonhole can readily realise how laborious and 
costly the making of buttonholes in leather 
must be. Our problem was to find a machine 
which could make buttonholes in a satisfactory 
way. For a long time the machines offered to us, 
in uc>od faith no doubt, proved miserable failures, 
p--o. lucing botched work. At last, however, the 
problem was solved, and now we have machines 
which both cut and sew buttonholes in very fine 
style. The machine with which we are most 
familiar is the " Reece " [48]. A die knife cuts 
cut the hole. From spools set on the head of the 
in liinc the two threads come down into the 
o-cillating needles which work round the hole. 
When the end of the hole is reached, the machine 
automatically stops sewing, and fixes in the ends 
of the threads. On the head of the machine the 
t ension regulator is fixed. The 
production of this machine in 
the hands of a good worker is 
about 6,000 complete button- 

h'.l,-.. t d IV . 

Finishing Button- 
holes. ( )ne special difficulty 
in inikiii.' buttonholes by 
m.-iehinery was the fixing of 

I- lifter the 


-wn. As . 

-. tin- 


I- Jit the, -ml 

of a seam. ;md 

be ti.-d 

any, Th.- 

was to run a bar 

of sew mi: ,ilori 
ih- Hip at ih- 

' tin- 

i!. I \. .... i. .,,. 

'!" " w .f machine have over- 

; '-.,,,, ,.. ,,., ,,.. 

Jtom. AM fagenioua man conceived and 

; ' k m 


to fix the ends of buttonholes can be made on 
the underside of the flap and out of sight. 

Sewing on Buttons. Men not very old 
in the trade can remember well the many vigorous 
attempts made to devise a mechanical fastening 
for buttons. Rivets, flat discs, long wires like 
miniature hairpins, and many other devices were 
tried ; but the public unmistakably showed a 
constant preference for the hand-sewn button. 
No wonder, for the flap of a buttoned boot with 
one of those sets of fasteners on felt like the sole 
of a heavily-hobbed boot. But our machinists 
were not to be beaten. Small as the matter may 
seem, there is a large amount of money in it. 
The happy idea of using the form of the sewing 
machine for the button fastener was struck, and 
then the problem was solved, not all at once, but 
by successive attempts, each one improving on 
the last. What improvements may yet be made 
we do not undertake to predict, but the present 
form of machine serves our purpose fairly well. 
The plan of this machine is an arm and stand 
extending at right angles from the operator [49]. 
On the top of the arm is a hopper from which a 
channel leads down in front of the needle. Rest- 
ing on the stand is the gripper, which keeps the 
work in place and guides it automatically from 
button to button. 

A Perfect Machine. The inventor has 
done his work well. So far as the worker is con- 
cerned, the machine is simple. We put a few 
gross of buttons into the hopper, and clamp the 
work upon the stand. Bring the driving belt on 
to the driving wheel, and watch 
that the machine does its work. 
Down comes a button ; needle 
and shuttle play over the eye of 
the button, linking it firmly in 
with the thread ; they retreat 
and the boot-top moves on; 
another button comes in place, 
and the process is repeated till 
10 or 12 buttons have been fixed. 
The tension adjusts itself auto- 
matically to any grade of work, 
from French kid 
to heavy grain 
leather, and each 
button is se- 
cured indepen- 
dently. With the 
button- sewing 
machine a thou- 
sand boot-tops can 
easily be disposed 
of in a day. We 
have heard objec- 
tion made to the 
single thread, and 
the criticism has 
some reason in it. 
We will gladly 

a-n another and better machine, if the invention 
comes ;iiong. 

Punching and Eyeletting. The staple 

f our trade is the lacing boot. Fashions 

""< ;md go; but for the past fifty years the 

r has been the stand-by. In the average 



boot there are 16 holes ; in boots of the better 
class six of these holes are filled with eyelet 
hooks and ten with eyelets. For a man working 
by himself, making three pairs a week, this does 
not mean very 'much ; he can punch them in a 
short time, and think little about it. But when 
you have charge of a large factory sending out 
from twenty to thirty thousand pairs a week, 
two-thirds of them lacing boots, then the punch- 
ing and eyeletting becomes a very serious item. 
It means the employment of twenty men for 
that small matter only, and smart men, too. 
But the genius that solved the button question 
was quite equal to helping us out of this little 
trouble. First we had the mechanical punch, 
then its companion the eyeletter, self-feeding 
and capable of being driven 
by power ; next came a com- 
bination of the two, and lastly 
the automatic punching and 
eyeletting machine. All four 
kinds are still on the market, 
made by various firms. Fac- 
tories of small dimensions, or 
factories chiefly engaged in pro- 
ducing ladies' and childrens' 
boots, can very well get along 
with the smaller machines, 
because eyeletting is never a 
large business with them. 

Small Machines. The 
small punches and eyeletters are 
simply die-stamping machines 
with, in the one case, a punch, 
and in the other an eyelet 
holder instead of the die. With these machines 
two operators can produce between them from 
3,000 to 4,000 finished eyelets in an hour, 
though the speed on the working day may be a 
little less. 

Factory Eyeletting. The automatic eye- 
letter is the contrivance with which the 
work of the factory is done. Here, again, the 
sewing-machine idea is seen in operation, with 
additions. A small box tray on the top holds 
the eyelets, and from it a channel runs to the 
nose of the punch. As the punch comes down 
and retreats, the eyelet setter follows its action 
as quickly as lightning, and the eyelet is done. 
By an automatic motion, the top is moved the 
space, \ or \ in., between the holes, and the next 
hole is made and eyeletted. The operator's 
duty is to put the top in position, lift it away 
when finished, and guide the work, while keeping 
his foot on the foot lever for emergencies. By 



mastering this machine, the worker can punch 
and eyelet 10,000 holes per hour. 

Eyelet=hooKs. Rather more difficult is 
the hook-setting machine, and it works more 
slowly, though on the same principle as that 
just described. We have seen several kinds of 
these at work, and they perform very well, 
considering the difficulty to be overcome. A 
hook is an eyalet with a fixed hook lying over 
it ; the drive home differs, therefore, from that 
of an open eyelet ; but the difference has been 
negotiated by a change in the punches. 

Linings. We have left lin- 
ings out for the moment. It 
depends on the kind of boot 
when the linings are brought in. 
Say that it is a batch of ladies' 
boots we are doing. Sometimes 
these are lined with fine morocco, 
but the kind most commonly in 
demand are lined with good 
cotton drill, edged with chamois, 
morocco, or other fine leather. 

The linings are cut with the 
uppers, and sent into the 
machine-room at the same time ; 
but they are put together in a 
different way on a separate set 
of machines. On the folders, neat 
little fingers working under a 
machine arm turn over and 
press down the edges of facings 
and heads of the linings. Next 
the parts are joined together 
on ordinary sewing machines, 
fronts and backs being lightly seamed into 
unity. Now the upper or top, without the 
vamp or front, comes round and meets the 
lining. They are put edge to edge, the 
insides coinciding, and sewn round. When 
finished and turned right-side out, the top and 
lining are joined, and not the vestige of a seam 

An economy is effected in this way, for you 
can attach the vamp to the lining at the same 
time as you are attaching the vamp to the rest 
of the upper. If it be desired to put several 
rows of stitching on the vamp, the upper lining 
can be turned back after being joined. 

The edgings of the linings are beaded and 
bagged in the same way as the button flap, 
before described. 

When the top is completed, it is prepared for 
the lasting, and sent in batches to the bottoming 



Group 7 



The Balance-sheet 

Contingent Liabilities and Assets 

and ?ts Items. General Ledger Accounts. 


Bullion Reserve and Note Issue. The 

car? of the bullion reserve and note issue will 
also be 

e and note issue wH ^. dlt ^ nts come to by the contractmg 

ial officials. ultitude of was, 

U kn^n S "course of time), the main 
object of the officials concerned being to curtail 
as much as possible the expense of the transfer of 
i oin from one office to another. 

The note issue claims more attention. Great 
care must be taken in the first place to prevent 
forgery, the principal checks against and means 
of discovery of which are the watermark, colour 
printing, designs on the back of the note, secret 
murks, and the use of, say, alternate numbers 
only. The number of notes printed is agreed 
with that of the blank sheets delivered, and, as 
an additional check against fraud, they may be 
signed before issue by some official below the 
lithographed signature, although such a practice 
is not universal. The custom with regard to 
re-issue also varies. The notes of the Bank of 
England are never re-issued, but those of the 
Scotch banks are paid out again and again. 
The records of the issue and destruction (usually 
by fire) of the notes are kept by this department. 
The destruction or loss of a bank-note by the 
holder is equivalent to the cancelling, without 
payment, of a liability of the bank, and the 
profits accruing in this connection to banks issu- 
ing small notes are there is reason to believe 
.nil-unit. The amount of a par- 
tiiilly. or wholly. destroyed note may, however, 
be paid upon a declaration being made, and a 

!\- indemnity given. 

Tli. w i >rk of the head office, and more especially 

undertaken by the managers and chief 

iin-luili-s. of euurse. the arrangement of 

gene s decisions on questions of policy, 

and. generally, the oversight of all large trans- 

:, conjunction \\ith the board of direc- 

in a multitude of ways, 
, will be determined by 

their relative needs. For example, a London 
bank acting as correspondent to a small country 
or foreign bank confers on it a much greater 
benefit than it receives, a fact that will influence 
the terms of their contract. The consideration 
may take either the form of a stipulation to keep 
a certain balance, or of a commission on the 
whole, or on certain of the transactions. An 
account with a foreign bank requires to be 
kept in two currencies, one in sterling to balance 
with the bank books, and the other in foreign 
currency to agree with the accounts of the foreign 

If the trade of any small town does not warrant 
the establishment of a separate office, a branch 
may be opened (doing business during the whole 
or a part of the week) under the charge of some 
subordinate official of a neighbouring office, 
the manager of which is responsible to the 
head office for the transactions of both branches. 
The Balance=sheet. The balance-sheet 
is invariably drawn out in a form similar to 
that adopted for all commercial undertakings. 
For the sake of clearness, an abbreviated example 
is given below. The special entries requisite 
for its completion are dealt with in the course on 

The first two items on the liabilities side repre- 
sent the capital and the reserve fund of undivided 
profits, forming the total due to the sha"e- 
holders. As this amount forms the last charge 
on the bank's assets, it is subject, in the event 
of liquidation or other winding-up to a reduction 
equal to the sum by which that actually realised 
by the assets falls short of the amount at which 
they appear in the balance-sheet. Such a reduc- 

onjunction \\itli the boara ot curec- they appear in the balance-sheet, feucn a reuuc- 

If theb.'nk b-a joint stock company, the tion may be nullified, or even transformed into an 

duties \\ill be carried on r,t addition, by the existence of the hidden reserve 

the head office, and the necessary returns to afterwards dealt with. 

Government made up time Reserve and Contingency Fund. 

Agency Business. The head office will The investing and the depositing public look 

' " ' thi mi between the ' nk to a steady increase <>t' the reserve fund, while. 

.ind the various lent-, the 

. '._ .-.., in' - beii,_' p,,-t,-d from the 

advices or return- reeeived from the 

branches. If. in the cour-e of bu>ine-s. 

he community in any 

nk ha< a branch 

have large and frequent transactions 
with any other district, or with some 

A ill be 

made with another bank situated there, 
mutual both direct 

arid indtr* t Such arr.'.nu'-me: 



Cril.ital .. . 
\ > fund 
Drafts and trans- 

N'nt'! issued 
Ai'i-i-iitiiiifi-H and 
I'* .. 
I'rotit iiml loss 





Cash on hand and 
with bankers . . 
Money at call and 
short notice 
Bills and Loans . . 
Acceptances and 
endorsements . . 




7.-HI.(MKI. of wi.i.-h 

u,.tm.-.|. .1 run off. 



on the other hand, a reduction in the amount 
would have a most disastrous effect on their 
confidence. In consequence, no sum is ever 
taken from such a fund, save in most exceptional 
circumstances, and to enable this course to be 
carried out, a second (or hidden) reserve is main- 
tained, to which sums which would otherwise 
pass through the public reserve are placed, and 
withdrawn as occasion demands. 

This second fund, in making up the balance- 
sheet, may either be included in the current 
accounts or written off the assets. 

The deposits are usually included in one total. 
Drafts and transfers follow, and represent the 
aggregate amount of these which have not yet 
been settled by the bank, either by cash payment 
or by a credit in account, while the sum shown 
against note issue is the actual amount in the 
hands of the public. 

The item " acceptances and endorsements " 
is only a contingent liability, and is balanced 
by an entry for a similar amount on the assets 
side. The bank has given the security of its 
name to this extent, but in the event of making 
any payment it will look to its clients for a 
refund. The business represented by the two 
entries has been already referred to. 

The treatment of profit and loss account is 
similar to that generally adopted. The amounts 
which are placed to the credit of this account 
will represent interest on loans, discount and 
commission of any nature, returns on invest- 
ments, rents, bad debts recovered, etc., while 
the amounts withdrawn will include interest 
on deposits, rediscount (if any), commissions, 
stationery, rent, taxes, salaries, expenses of 
note issue (if any), bad debts, depreciation, etc., 

d, in addition, any sums transferred to reserve 

dividend accounts. 

The amount of rediscounts is shown as a 
contingent liability, if the bank is in the habit 
of rediscounting. 

Assets. Assets are divided, in varying degrees 
of detail, into different classes according to the 
ease with which they can be converted into cash 
or its equivalent, any item easily convertible into 
cash being termed a liquid asset. Cash on hand 
(coin, bullion, and notes of other banks) may or 
may not be coupled with the balances deposited 
with other institutions. Money at call or short 
notice with brokers follows, and the proportion 
shown in the balance-sheet between the liquid 
assets and the liabilities to the public is sub- 
jected to the closest scrutiny. 

Cheques and similar documents in course of 
post may be included in the cash total or in- 
corporated in the amount shown against loans. 
The figure at which the customary investments 
in first-class stocks is entered is the one at 
which they stand in the bank books. This will 
be found to be very much below the current 
market value, the securities, when bought, 
being written down to a figure to which it is 
thought they will in the ordinary course never 
fall. Before the recent enormous fall in Consols 
it was very customary to value them at 90, but 
the unexpected course of events has rendered a 
lower figure necessary. It is usual to give in the 


balance-sheet a somewhat detailed statement 
of the securities held. Bills discounted and loans 
may be either given in one sum or in detail. 

Bank Bookkeeping. In this section it is 
assumed that the reader is either possessed of 
some practical acquaintance with the above, or 
has a knowledge of the system used in mercantile 
business. If the contrary be the case, some 
study of ordinary bookkeeping will be necessary, 
after which the special points of that applicable 
to banks will present no difficulty. One essen- 
tial difference is the absence of stock and manu- 
facturing accounts, and the attendant periodical 
stocktaking. The material property possessed 
by any bank is, compared with the total amount 
of its resources, comparatively small, seldom 
undergoes any change, and is held at a figure 
much below its real value. 

Each entry in bank bookkeeping is a cash 
book or journal one, nothing corresponding to 
the mercantile day and invoice books being in 
use. A debit entry in a bank ledger has the effect 
either of : increasing a debt due to the bank, 
decreasing a debt due by the bank, increasing the 
amount of an account representing a material 
or similar asset, or ultimately forming a charge 
on profits ; while a credit entry has the effect of 
either : decreasing a debt due to the bank, 
increasing a debt due by the bank, diminishing 
the amount of an account representing a material 
or similar asset, or ultimately forming an addi- 
tion to profits. 

We consequently find in all bank offices two 
books which may be termed the general cash 
book (or journal) and the general ledger through 
which all transactions pass, either briefly or in 
detail, the subsidiary books being divided into 
these classes : 

1. Cash books. 

2. Cross entry books. 

3. Registers (with or without running num- 

4. Ledgers. 

5. Books partly registers and partly ledgers. 

6. Books kept in diary form. 

7. Books recording balances and other par- 

General Ledger. The table given on the 
next page represents the balances shown in an 
imaginary general ledger, kept at a head office 
(the shillings and pence being omitted). 

The Bank's Account. In the example 
given the bank is supposed to have three 
branches, a separate account being kept by the 
head office for the transactions referring to each 
of them. At each of the branches consequently 
three accounts will also be kept under this 
heading. This method is best adapted to a 
foreign or colonial bank with few and widely 
spread branches, as it enables each particular 
branch to ascertain at any time the position 
of its account with any other office, and allows 
of the inter-branch accounts being checked 
by the offices concerned. 

In the case of a large home bank there is no 
necessity to know the balance of the trans- 
actions between any two branches, and the 
entries will, in consequence, be passed through 




Bank's ac-'-.. nut 
llranch A 



Branch It 


Branch C 
nirn-nt accounts 




Deposit accounts 
Deposit receipts 
Local bills <l8>unted 
Bills received (or remitted) 




Bills past due 

Stamp ac-. .nut 
Commission account 
Interest account 




( li:irnes account 
Hills for collection 
(,,11-Ttion bills received 
Acceptances and endorsements 
Acceptances and endorsements 



Letters of credit and circular 


Reserve fund 
( . ntinnency fund 
Notes issued 


Dividend account 


Unclaimed dividends 
Pension fund 
Profit and Loss account 




Agency accounts : 


Bank A 










M..m>y at call and short notice 
Cash at bankers 





one account. The weekly returns from the 

branches of this account will, in such a case, 

be audited by the head office, and may be 

divided into sections, bearing either the names 

if the corresponding branches or of the various 

M <>f Imsiness. The first method admits 

of an error once passed being perhaps more 

easily discovered, but the second allows of a 

summary of the different classes of outstanding 

ntries being more readily made up. The 

Minaiinii into one account in the example 

D would, df course, result in the substitution 

'ollowing for the first three balances : 


9J.-JJ; Kink's Account. 
! app.-iiviit that the balances in the 
head office general ledger do not include the 
whole business of the kink, the 129,812 shown 
against I >.],., -it Hr.-.-ipN lirinu tin- total out- 
standing of those issued by the head office 
M'-SS current at the other brand n > 
a represented only by the balance or balances 

at th. ! ount. 

In addition to tin- Hank's Account, the accounts 

-omnion to tin- general ledger at all 

le eiinvnt a. vomits (the balance 

nt- the total of the accounts 

"<lit less th- amount of overdrafts, or vice 

vena), loans, deposit accounts and deposit 

-ho\vn correspon 
th>- turn-nt oiit-t. nidi- 
Discounted Bills. It is the 
to place th,. full amount of a bill, when dis- 

counted, to the debit of some bill account, 
,-rediting the discount at the same time to an 
interest account, Sums received in payment 
are credited to the bill account, and should the 
draft not be duly met at maturity the amount 
will be transferred to Bills Past Due Account 
the balance of which agrees with the total of 
unpaid past due discounted bills in the hands 
of the bank. A doubtful overdraft is not treated 
in this manner, but is allowed to remain in the 
relative ledger, although an amount has actually 
been set aside against it. A distinction is 
made between bills payable locally and those 
domiciled elsewhere, the Local Bills Discounted 
Account agreeing with the amount of this class 
of paper in hand. 

Two distinct methods of dealing with the bills 
not payable locally are in vogue. The transfer of 
the amount of the bill from the books of the 
discounting office to those of the office to which 
it is forwarded (for presentation for payment 
on due date) may be made either at the time 
of discount or at maturity, the draft disappear- 
ing as an asset from the books of the discounting 
branch when such an entry is made. The bill 
will, if the amount be debited at the time of 
discount, appear during its currency as an 
asset at the Receiving branch, and an account 
similar to that for Local Bills Discounted will 
be kept by it for Discounted Bills Received from 
other Offices. If the second method is adopted, 
the discounting branch will keep a Bills 
Discounted and Remitted Account, which will 
correspond with the amount of bills discounted 
(other than local), which have neither been 
advised as paid or returned unpaid. Nominal 
accounts may be kept by the remitting branch, 
in the first instance, and by the receiving office, 
in the second. . 

Nominal Accounts. When it is con- 
sidered desirable to know the amount at any 
time of any particular class of business, which 
does not at the time constitute an actual liability 
or asset at the office in question, two accounts 
will be opened in the general ledger, the one 
to give the total outstanding and the other to 
balance the amount shown in the former. Two 
instances are given in the specimen general 
ledger balance the first relating to bills received 
by the head office for collection which have 
not been discounted. On such a bill being 
received an entry is passed increasing the 
balances of the two accounts to the same extent, 
and on any bill being paid or returned the 
balances are reduced by an equal sum. The 
same procedure applies to the Acceptances 
Account, which shows the total contingent 
liability of the bank and contingent liability of 
its clients in this connection. As no book- 
keeping check exists on such accounts special 
care requires to be exercised with regard to them. 
The Stamp Account. The Stamp Account 
shows the value of stamped forms as yet unsold 
to the bank's clients. The cheque forms, etc., 
are not stamped immediately after being printed, 
but only when required to replenish the stock 
in hand, and, in consequence, the balance of this 
account will never be of very great amount. 

Letters of credit and circular notes represent 
the amount of such documents issued. Tli6 
balance of a Circular Notes Account kept at a 
branch appears on the opposite side of the 
ledger, the head office, in forwarding a supply 
to the branch, treating the latter as if it were 
a customer, and debiting the branch with the full 
value. An account is accordingly opened by the 
branch and kept on similar lines to its local Bill 
Account. On any note being issued its amount 
is deducted from the branch account, tho 
account kept at the head office being reduced 


provide the working of a pension scheme it is 
placed to a special account kept at the head 
office. Suspense Account is dealt with under 
balance work. The other accounts have already 
been referred to, and subsidiary books are dealt 
with subsequently. 

With a view to convenience, some accounts 
other than in the name of clients may be kept in 
the Current Account Ledgers instead of in the 
general ledgers. " Unclaimed Balances " the 
account to which all sums left unclaimed for a 
certain time are transferred is invariably one of 













Dec. 31 


_ | 


Jan. 1 

30 2 5 

32 9 5 



1 2 

30 1 3 

17 3 

11 2 6 

20 9 8 

Jan. 2 

15 7 11 

10 7 2 

2 3 7 

12 17 6 

6 10 

8 3 

9 18 11 

45 10 4 

42 16 7 


2 13 9 i 

on payment being made by it to the ultimate 
holder of the note. The foregoing accounts 
may be added to, or divided, to suit the con- 
venience of any particular office or system. 

Profit and Loss Accounts. Profit and 
Loss Accounts are represented in the example 
given by interest, commission and charges, but 
these may be subdivided to show the amounts 
relating to each particular class of business, a 
result that may also be obtained by ruling the 
portion of the ledger used in the manner indicated 
on this page (the interest account being dealt 

The columns shown (increased to cover all 
classes of transactions) are summed and balanced 
periodically, and give the information required. 

The remaining accounts (with the exception 
of cash) come under the heading of Accounts 
Peculiar to the Head Office. The Cash Account 

these, while accounts for the temporary disposal 
of money which cannot be finally dealt with 
on receipt may be treated similarly e.g., an 
amount transferred from another office to await 
instructions may be placed in such an account. 

Cash Books. The General Cash Book may 
either be written up from the subsidiary books, 
from vouchers, or partly from one and partly 
from the other, all cross entries between depart- 
ments (which in a large office will be numerous) 
being, of course, eliminated. It may either be 
written up concurrently with the subsidiary 
books or on the following day, the entries being 
collected and arranged in the order most con- 
venient, while the book may be closed off, either 
daily or weekly. 

In large offices, the cashiers may be divided 
into two classes receiving and paying. The 
cash books of the first simply record the sums 

From Whom 



Cash. Notes. 





J. Jones 

C. Forsyth 
W. Watson . . 

10,701 * A/B 
A. Thomas 
W. Smith . . 
A. Jenkins . . 

G. Howard . . 


London and County 
National India 

20 10 







* Number of Note. 
t Documents drawn on 

the bank in quest i 


40 10 





simply represents the cash on hand, including 
the bank's own notes in the cashier's tills. 
Capital, Reserve Fund, and Contingency Fund 
require 110 explanation. Notes Issued represents 
the total handed to the cashiers or sent to the 
branches which have not returned for destruc- 
tion, the amount including all notes held at any 
office. Dividend Account, the balance of which 
is transferred after a certain time to the Un- 
claimed Dividend Account, shows the total of 
the current dividend warrants outstanding. 

To Profit and Loss Account the balances of 
the profit and loss accounts at all the offices 
are transferred at each balance, while it is 
reduced by the sums put to dividend, reserve, 
contingency, premises, investment, pension, or 
other accounts. If any amount is laid aside to 

paid in during the day, the total being agreed at 
the close of business with that of the relative 
waste took. 

The latter is a very wide book, in which the 
particulars are entered in a manner similar to 
that shown on this page. 

The columns may be increased and divided, as 
may be deemed necessary, while the number of 
particulars given depend on individual practice. 
The paying cashiers record all sums paid away 
(mainly cheques drawn on current accounts), the 
numbers of Bank of England notes paid out being 

Each cashier may deal with the ledger accounts 
only under a certain letter or letters, while De- 
posit Receipts, Country, Bill and other business 
will in all probability be dealt with separately. 



The cash \ ook of an official at a small office, 

onUiM the entries comprising the 

whole range of bosmees, and in such a case 

the advantage of a columnar cash book is 

al By means of this any body of entries 

numb,, is large (e.g., those relating 

to , un vnt MM omits) may be entered in a special 

., the total of which is carried to the outer 

,,,lumn at the end .f the day making the 

of errors a much easier matter. 
C rosi Entry Books. A large number 
of 1 ooks of varying form will be kept by the 
dinVrent departments to record the entries passed 
hv them, the hill entries going perhaps into one, 
the correspondence remittances into another, and 
so on, although arrangements may be made to 
enable certain officials, through an elaborate use 
of vouchers, to deal with all such entries. All 

civen to another branch or bank to cash the 
cheques of any client to a certain extent should 
be entered in the ledger, and a similar course 
adopted with regard to cheques on which an 
endorsement guaranteeing payment has been 
placed by the banker ; so that, if necessary, the 
account may be kept at a figure sufficient to 
cover these outstanding liabilities. A very 
numerous body of entries (say, dividend warrants) 
may be detailed in a subsidiary book, and only 
the total inserted in the ledger. 

Checking. The checking of the entries 
should be done by independent officers, while 
fraud is further guarded against by an occasional 
interchange of ledgers. It is usual to extract 
weekly the balances shown, and to agree the 
result with the general ledger account, the return 
of overdrafts being made up from this balance. 








16 7 3 

T,, Interest . . . . 
By Cheque 
To I'.ahuicc 


117 7 3 







17,931 2 7 

17,931 2 7 

Jan. 3 

I'.v |;-il:iii<v .. .. 
T.I l-J.731 













Bjr (Cash 100) and 





cash and cross entry books may only be used on 
uite days, to facilitate, if necessary, the 
nork of cheeking. The example shown above 
will show that a bank ledger differs somewhat 
from the ordinary mercantile form. 

1 n t he foregoing example we start the New Year 

with a balance of 100, 200 being received, and 

three cheques amounting to 350 being paid, 

M _' t he account overdrawn 50. The balance 

'M- shown at the close of each day, and, if it 

M overdraft, must always be preceded by 

the -inn I>r. In some hanks it is not customary 

In an office employing several current account 
ledgers, two books, ruled in the manner shown 
below, will be used to record, under the heading of 
each ledger, the debits and credits referring to it. 
These books, which are agreed with the current 
account entries in the cash and cross entry books, 
allow of each ledger being balanced separately. 
Each entry in the deposit receipt register is 
initialled by the official who signs the relative 
receipt, a similar practice being adopted with 
regard to drafts and transfers. The columns 
in the register for these will provide for date, 



A D 

E K 

L K 

S Z 

rt every balance when 

the accoun' '</ in credit. The numbers 

boae on the paid cheques, although the 

\\ hose favour the cheques 

- riit.-ivd 

" -e in refen-nee. the ledger 

accounts are arranged alphahetically, while the 

h amount -hould set forth the 

security held, the overdraft limits authorised. 

lames of persons authorised to operate, and 

soon, the Irdif-r Ue.-jMT I,,. i,,,, responsible to see 

ill ehei|u> in accordance with 

particular^. In entering any sum received 

did in:_'ui-h I let \\een cash 

obviate the powibiUty of ft cheque, 

the fate of which has not hecii received but 
l'i' ' "nm-d unpaid, beiny paid 

The part i x authority 


number, on whose account, in whose favour, 
paying branch, amount, commission, initials. 

Bill Registers. The bill registers (which will 
be divided into various sections) give all particu- 
lars regarding bills received from customers, either 
for discount or for collection, and any documents 
attached thereto date of entry, running number, 
names on bill, date of bill, currency, place of 
payment, amount, rate and amount of discount, 
details of documents, etc. In the bills for collec- 
tion section, the discount columns will be replaced 
by one in which the date on which payment is 
received or advised is marked. Bills received to 
be forwarded to some point, for acceptance and 
return, may be placed in a separate section. 

The entries relating to bills received from other 
offices do not require to be so elaborate, but the 
due elites of these and of local bills require to be 

very carefully entered in a book kept in diary form 
(under the date on which they mature), to prevent 
the presentation for payment being omitted. 

Diary. The diary forms, in addition, a 
convenient method of noting the expiration of a 
loan, or any other business which will require 
attention on a certain date. The form given 
below is one covering several classes of business. 

Discount Ledger. The discount ledger 
is kept to show the total discounts current at 
any time, the amounts of the bills being debited 
when discounted and credited when matured, 
a special account being opened for any client 
discounting largely, and all miscellaneous 
items being collected under " sundries." A 
statement may be made up weekly to balance 
with this ledger, showing the amount discounted 
at each rate. 

In addition, books in which are recorded the 
particulars of periodical balances, cheque books 
sold, cheques and other documents received, with 
clients' signatures and letter registers, postage 
books, indexes, files for letters of credit and other 
authorities, and a multitude of small memo, 
books in which outstanding matters, particulars 
of securities, etc., are entered, will be required. 


The securities lodged for safe custody are 
entered under the heading of each client's name, 
the fullest particulars being given both of the 
bonds, etc., and of any coupons attached. On 
delivery being made of any particular docu- 
ment, the receipt on which it appears may 
be returned, endorsed, and a new receipt for 
the remaining bonds issued, or the old receipt 
may be allowed to stand, the entry in question 
being deleted and a receipt, taken from the 
customer. If the documents are numerous and 
operations frequent, it is desirable that the 
client should employ a locked box to which 
persons bearing authority are allowed access. 

The bookkeeping returns from the branches 
may be divided into two sections those which 
refer to local business (deposit receipts, current 
accounts, etc.), and entries to the bank's account. 
Every entry in the last requires to be detailed 
(for head office checking purposes), but the other 
transactions need only be given in brief form, 
no useful purpose being served by, say, a long 
statement of current account transactions. 

Balance Work. With a bank possessing 
a large number of branches scattered all over the 
country it is clearly impossible for the auditors 


Bills Dis- 


Bills Dis- 
and Re- 


Bills Re- 


tion Bills 



payable in 


fVf. Smith 

Loan 500, 

Jan. 1 


100 1 2 


20 9 3 




15 1 6 





1 due 7th. 


50 5 10 


16 5 1 




67 1 2 

-{ J. Thompson 



1 Ashanti 


i, due 5th. 







167 1 9 


57 1 10 





10 2 6 


97 8 2 



410 5 7 



Not* No. -f 8 


Banks dispensing with waste books will, in 
addition, use registers giving particulars of 
cheques remitted. 

Pass Books. The pass books are, in a way, 
distinct from all the other books of the bank, 
being the only part of the system which is 
directly subject to the scrutiny of the public. 
They are, moreover, regarded as the customers' 
books, the entries being placed on the reverse 
side to that on which they appear in the bank's 
ledger, the pass book being similar in form to the 
bank account kept in the customer's ledger. 

The pass books should be written up from the 
vouchers, and not merely copied from the ledgers, 
all books in hand being regularly made up each 
morning to include the transactions of the 
previous day ; and when any book is handed to 
the customer concerned, a mark to this effect 
should be placed against the relative balance in 
the ledger. The practice in Scotland is somewhat 
different. There the paid cheques are not de- 
livered till the customer has certified the amount 
to be correct. In England, however, the paid 
cheques are, on the day following, sorted under 
the names of the various clients, being either 
sent with any statements rendered, or placed in 
a pouch provided in the pass-book cover and 
delivered when the book is sent for. 

to examine all the books personally. In con- 
sequence, the signed returns from the other 
offices are accepted as correct (the periodical 
inspection from head office supplying the 
necessary check). The ordinary weekly returns 
are made up to the night of the balance, and 
from these the head office is at once able to 
make up a balance-sheet similar to the usual 
weekly one. 

The balances of the profit and loss accounts 
at the branches having been transferred to the 
head office (after closing the books for the half- 
year), through the bank's account, the only 
modifications which the balance-sheet subse- 
quently undergoes are on account of the suspense 
or adjusting entries for interest due but not 
applied, etc. For such entries no further par- 
ticulars are actually required by the head office, 
beyond the total amount due at each branch; 
of interest on deposits and loans of rebate 
on bills discounted outstanding at the time 
of the balance, etc. In practice, however, the 
individual amounts of principal and interest 
or rebate are given against each name. If 
the current account and deposit account 
interest is applied on the date of the balance, 
no adjusting entries will be required on their 



Deposit Receipts and Ledger Ac- 
counts. Some little time before the balance, 
the decimal- and interest calculations in the 
ledgers are carefully eheeked to date, and on the 
I t<' the end of the year or half- 
year the total amount due on each account is 
found and entered in the return previously pre- 
pared. < m the succeeding night after the ledger 
balance has been agreed, the principal sums are 
also entered The interest due on individual 
deposit receipts i> calculated, and the return of 
outst.mdiriu' receipts made up before the date 
of the balance, those paid after insertion being 
subsequently deleted. The interest on receipts 
issued during the half-year is calculated on each 
separate amount (with the assistance of a table, 
uivinu the decimal for each day), while that on 

\\hich were outstanding at the date of last 
balance may be arrived at similarly, or by the 
addition of the amount due for the half-year 
to that accrued at the last balance, each calcula- 
tion in the latter method being based on the 
same decimal. The correctness of the interest 
calculations may be proved by keeping an 
account showing the daily balance of deposit 
j.ts, the interest due on which is reckoned 
in a manner similar to that on ledger accounts. 
This, added to the amount due at the previous 
balance, less what has been paid during the year, 
should equal the sum now due. 

Bills Returns. The bills detailed in the 
Bills Returns may be either bills remitted or bills 
received, according to the method of keeping the 
general ledger account. In either case rebate for 
the time yet to run will be calculated at a rate 
(usually 5 per cent.) which will more than cover 
the rate at which discounted, a lower rate than 
that of discount inflating the current profits at 
of those for the succeeding period. 
N~'> interest is calculated on past due bills. 

returns, together with any additional ones 
required by the head office for their own infor- 

n. having been summed, checked, signed, 

and despatched, the ledger accounts having been 

! iv|icned in the usual manner, and 

'he n d off and new running numbers 

begun, the balance work at the branches may 

M^lered to be linished, all further entries 

j.a-ol |,y the heul office. 
:"re passing on to the head oflice work, 
the important return in connection \\ithbad and 
doul.tful debts calls for .vmark. This return is 

h branch ;md despatched to the 

chief ofiice som- little time (say. one month) 
before the actual balance. [ n 'it all past due 
la are fully detailed, th.- security held and 
prospects of payment beinjr dealt with at length, 
and the probable lew (if any) .stated. Any 

JOM Or OTerdrafto considered in any way doubt - 

tl are dealt uith iii a similar manner, although 
''" " include every loan, whether 

'"'I <-r not. In addition, it any los 
'i hkely to result on any bills 'held but, 

I. the circumstances will be recorded 

M-n. which. ,, be,,,- received at the 

'I Office, i> carefully U 'one into by some of the 

lid the amounts required to be 

Bide against pr,,l,-,bl- tattf determined. 

t * \ I 

Head Office Balance Work. The 

ordinary weekly audit is pushed forward as 
quickly as possible, and after it is finished the 
outstanding entries in the bank's account are 
dealt with, a special cross entry book or journal 
being utilised. The first class of such entries 
deals with the transfer of the balances of the 
profit and loss accounts at the branches, made 
by these offices on the last day of the half-year. 
These are carried to the profit and loss account.- 
The book to which the outstanding drafts and 
transfers are weekly transferred is next taken 
in hand, and the items of this nature remaining 
unpaid agreed, these will be probably detailed 
in the book itself, the total being entered in the 
special journal, and appearing in the balance- 
sheet as a liability. Special entries carry the bills 
discounted and debited to the receiving branch on 
the last day of the half-year to a special account, 
the total of which is included in the amount 
shown against bills in the balance-sheet. A 
similar procedure is adopted with cheques and 
with any other entries unresponded to. 

The amount of cheques in transit may either 
be included in the amount of ledger loans or com- 
bined with the cash items. The entries in this 
special journal, or cross entry book, clear out all 
sums outstanding in the weekly returns, antici- 
pating the responding entries appearing in the 
returns subsequently received. In the case of a 
bank possessing only one office, these entries will 
be unnecessary ; but entries for unapplied in- 
terest, etc, require to be passed in every case. 

The amount due by the bank as interest 
accrued but not paid, rebate, etc., forms a 
charge on profit and loss, while interest, etc., 
earned during the period just closed, but which 
has not been applied, requires to be credited as 
profit. Entries, based on the branch returns, 
will accordingly be passed. 

Debiting Profit Crediting Sus- Interest due at date of 

and Loss and pense with balance by the bank on 

deposit accounts and 

deposit receipts, rebate 

on bills discounted. 

Suspense Profit and Interest due at the same 

Loss date to the bank on 

loans, overdrafts, in- 
vestments, rent. 

As suspense account acts as a transfer account 
between the profits of one year and another, 
before any entries are made relating to the current 
balance the sum resulting from those passed 
at the preceding one is removed from suspense 
and carried to profit and loss. An amount of 
interest due to the bank, outstanding on the 
30th June (the date of the balance) and paid 
the following day, will, if the next balance is on 
the 30th December, be included in the amounts 
of entries passed, as follows : 


Debited to Credited to 

.I'll:*- :;n 
lulv 1.. 
Dec. ::u.. 

Current Accounts 
Profit and Loss 

Profit and Loss 
Profit and Loss 

The amount of suspense account will be in- 
cluded in the balance-sheet in the total of either 
current account deposits or loans. 


The Three Classes of Floors Single, Double, and Framed. Floor Joists. Ceiling 

Group 4 


Joists. Trimming. Strutting. Binders. Girders. Various Forms of Partitions 

continued from 
paje 4iJ4 


A FLOOR consists of a framework of joists 
covered usually by flooring boards, the work 
of laying down the latter being allotted to the 
joiner. Floors are no longer invariably constructed 
of wood alone. In floors of large area, steel girders 
are employed, and in warehouses, factories, and 
other large buildings even flooring boards are 
sometimes discarded in favour of concrete or 
other material. In such cases there is no 
carpentry work. 

There are three types of framework on which 
flooring boards are laid, the span of the floor 
usually deciding which must be employed. In 
all cases the boards rest on a series of joists about 
12 in. apart, running in the transverse direction 
to the boards. In the simplest type of floor, 
called a single, floor, these joists bridging from 
wall to wall [284] are all that is necessary. In 
spans which exceed 20 ft., and often in much 
smaller ones, the joists themselves are supported 
at one or more intermediate points by a larger 
transverse timber called a binder [285]. This 
intermediate support makes it possible to use 
flooring joists of smaller dimensions than would 
otherwise be necessary. It is then called a double 
floor. In floors of very large area, further transverse 
members, known as girders [286], are employed 
to afford support to the binders. Such a floor 
is a framed floor. It is called framed because the 
girders and binders are generally framed together 
at the points where they cross, but in some cases, 
where the increased depth of the framework of 
the floor is not objectionable, the binders rest 
on top of the girders. 

Single Floors. In single floors, where 
joists alone are used, they are usually made to 
bridge the narrowest way of the room or building. 
Their ends rest on wall plates, or templets, which 
in upper floors are usually built into the wall, 
and in ground floors are set on brick offsets. Very 
often offsets can be arranged for the joists of 
upper floors by reducing the walls in thickness 
above each floor. When built in, the templets 
are of stone or metal, in preference to wood, 
because the latter decays in such situations and 
is bad in case of fire. At least in. of air space 
is allowed round the ends of joists to prevent 
decay. Joists which do not have to span more 
than from about 8 ft. to 12 ft., should measure 
in section about 2 in. by 8 in., which is the 
average dimension, though 2 in. thick is a 
minimum, because a continuous line of nails 
has to be driven into them to hold the flooring 
boards, and less than 2 in. would be likely to 
split. Floor joists, like the common rafters of 
roofs, do not need to vary in strength with the 
area of surface covered, because it is found best 
to support them at intervals of about 8 ft. 

Long timbers are generally slightly curved in 
length, and should always be laid the rounding 
side up, to allow for sagging. Knots, if possible, 
should always be at the top, because they stand 
compression better than tension, and therefore 
are in the best place when in the upper portion 
of a beam. 

In ordinary dwelling houses, single floors are 
usually sufficient as far as strength is concerned, 
but what is rigid enough for a floor is often not 
sufficiently so to prevent a ceiling below from 
cracking if the laths and plaster are attached 
directly to the under surfaces of the floor joists. 
Another objection to a single floor is that it 
transmits sound from one room to the other 
very readily. 

Ceiling Joists. Without introducing 
binders to support the joists, these two defects 
may be reduced by attaching ceiling joists to 
the under surfaces of the floor joists [288], 
contact between them being made only at every 
fifth or sixth joist, to lessen the surface through 
which sound can pass. This is sometimes called 
a double floor, though it differs from the double 
floor in which binders are used. As ceiling 
joists have only the laths and plaster of the 
ceiling to support, they are of small dimensions 
compared with floor joists, being frequently not 
more than 1 in. by 3 in., or 2 in. by 3 in. In 
floors where they have to span 8 ft. or 10 ft. 
from binder to binder, they may be 2 in. by 5 in. 
In single floors ceiling joists are nailed, and usually 
notched as well, to the unde surface of the joists, 
running, of course, transversely to the latter. 
In double floors they are generally fitted between 
the binders [291] to avoid adding needless 
depth to the floor. In all cases they project 
slightly below the other members of the floor 
framework, so that when the laths are nailed to 
them there will be no other surfaces to prevent 
the plaster passing through and becoming keyed 
to the laths. When ceiling or floor joists are more 
than 2 in. thick, strips 1 in. square are often 
nailed to their under surface, to attach the laths 
to, thus affording a better key tor the plaster. 

Trimming. Examples of trimming are 
shown in 284. Trimming is necessary in almost 
all floors, in order to keep the joists clear of 
fireplaces, stairways, and flues in walls. The 
trimming pieces which enclose the open space 
are stouter in section than the ordinary joists, 
an increase of an $ in. generally being added to 
their width for every joist supported by them. 
The joints are usually tusk tenons, because that 
affords the best support with the minimum 
weakening of the timbers. Sometimes stirrups 
are used instead. When the trimming can be 
effected in line with the joists, as at A [284], it is, 



of course, more satisfactory, and when the position 
of a fireplace or stairway is fixed this sometimes 
makes it advisable to run the joists the longest 
instead of the shortest way of the span, in order 
to simplify the trimming. On ground floors no 
tnmmin./is r,- mired, i ecause brickwork can be 
built on:' to support joiste where necessary. Ihe 
trimmed space before fireplaces is made flush 
with the floor boards by a hearthsUne, the edges 
,,f w hirh rest on the wood trimming and the body 
on a bed of concrete, which is laid on an arch 
within the trimmed space. This arch is some- 
i of wood, but more often of brick, as in 290. 
times a flanged sheet of steel is employed. 
When tin- arch is large, its pressure against the 
wood trimming is considerable, and the latter is 
often better enabled to resist it by the insertion 
of long bolts, the nut ends of which go through 
the wood, while the other ends are hooked and 
built into the wall. 

Strutting. Struts, or braces, between 
joists [289] enable them to assist each other in 
supporting a load and prevent them from twist- 
ing. They are placed in continuous lines at 
intervals of about 4 ft. In a span of 8 ft., for 
instance, there would be one line of struts across 
the centre. The herringbone method of strut- 
ting is the best and most commonly employed. 
The strute are in section about 2 in. sq., with 
their ends cut to the correct angle. They 
are held by a nail at each end, driven generally 
through a saw cut instead of a bored hole, as 
the former is more easily made, and obviates the 
risk of splitting. Solid struts are also sometimes 
employed. They are made slightly less hi depth 
than the joists, and the whole series are some- 
times tightened by a long bolt passing through 
the joists close to the strutting. 

Pugging. This is often resorted to for pre- 
venting, as far as possible, the passage of sound 
and odour through a floor. The carpenter nails 
til lets and lays boards on them, as in 289, and on 
this is deposited rubble or other suitable material 
for absorbing sound. Another method is to 
tack felt on the tops of the joists. Sometimes 
felt is put on in continuous sheets dipping down 
n the joists so that it will support sawdust 
or otlu-r material in the same way as the boarding 
-ho\\n in 289. An objection to pugging is that 
tin- absence of ventilation tends to induce dry 
rot in the wood. 

Double Floors. A double floor is made 
floor joists, and, in most cases, 
Getting joists. In th^ae floors the binders usually 
lio the shortest way of the span, and they must 
rest on substantial parts of the building, never 
where there are window or door openings below, 
urse, is still more important in the 
tl of fumed floors. Fig. 285 shows a 
douMi- iliinr m which i\vi hinders are used, thus 
iinj: the entire joist length into three spans, 
la many OMM only on.- hinder is necessary to 
port thi middle of the joists. The floor 
npd ",i top of the hinders 
2] or notched, and perhaps also supported on 
fillet*, as in 291. The ceiling joists below are 
y notch.-d on. ,,r fitted between, some- 
times tenant I in with chase mortise-;, but a 


better method is that shown in 291, in which 
they are supported on fillets. Binders are very 
often of steel instead of wood. Sometimes they 
extend below the ceiling level, as in 292 and 293, 
and have their corners rounded or beaded it ot 
wood, or are boxed in if of steel. The distance 
apart of binders may vary greatly according to 
circumstances, but an average distance is about 
6 ft. or 8 ft. Sometimes, to avoid building all 
the joist ends into the wall, binders are used to 
support the ends of the joists, leaving a little 
clearance between wall and joist ends. Occa- 
sionally, when steel binders are employed and 
it is desired to keep the floor depth as shallow 
as possible, the joists may 'be framed between 
the binders as in 294, or in any other convenient 
manner, but, as a rule, joists rest on top of 

Framed Floors. The girders of framed 
floors [286] are now almost invariably of steel. 
When of timber they are generally flitched by 
bolting two halves together, with an iron plate 
between. In a feAv cases the binders rest on top 
of the girders, but, as a rule, they are framed 
together to avoid great depth of floor. When 
there is no ceiling the girders are sometimes placed 
below, or, even with a ceiling, they can be treated 
in the same way as the binder in 293. When 
framed together in the same plane the lower 
flange of the metal girder is utilised to support 
the binder ends [295], and further security is 
obtained by bolting brackets or angle irons to the 
sides. Either wood or metal members may be 
connected in this way, When the girder is of 
wood tusk tenon joints may be made, but they 
weaken the girder by the removal of some of its 
substance, and therefore it is more satisfactory 
to support the binder ends by light iron stirrups 
[296]. Generally, the distance between girders 
should not exceed 10 ft., but this depends on 
circumstances. Binders are never allowed to 
occur near the middle of girders, but are always 
divided equally on each side to strain them as 
little as possible. 

The ends both of girders and binders rest 
in pockets in the walls [297], or on built up 
offsets ; occasionally on projecting corbels, 
but this is not so satisfactory as either of the 
preceding. They are also often carried in cast- 
iron shoes or stirrups built into the wall. If the 
latter plan be substantially carried out, and the 
timbers be not heavy, it is better not to let them 
enter the wall at all but merely to rest in the 
stirrup, because in case of fire they cannot then 
damage the wall when they break and the 
ends tilt up. Another good means of accom- 
plishing the same end is to bevel the ends of the 
timbers as indicated by a dotted line in 297. This 
does not appreciably diminish their strength, 
allows them to enter the wall, and also leaves 
plenty of air space. The main timbers in ground 
floors may be supported intermediately by 
brickwork [287], and those in upper floors by 
pillars or stanchions. 

Flooring Boards. These are generally laid 
down by the joiner. The forms of edge joints be- 
tween boards have already been shown in 132 to 
139 [page 3845 j, but plain square butt joints are 


Trimmed Space 






-^r-_; Boards ^^^^=^^-'^~-=^~=^ 


Htrrtnj Bont ttrutli^ Solid Struttla? BwJt (, Htj^nj 

















CtUing Joists 





284. Single floor 285. Double floor with two binders 286. Framed floor 287. Brickwork for main timbers 288. Ceiling 
joists 289. Strutting and pugging 290. Floor with brick arch for hearthstone 291. Double floor 292. Cogged floor joist 
293. Steel binder in floor 294. Joists framed between binders 295. Floor showing girder and binders 296. Binder 
supported by iron stirrups 297. Wall pockets for girders and binders 298. Simple partition 299. Partition with boards 

instead of laths 300-303. Trussed partitions 



. ntlv employed for flooring boards. They 
are generally nailed on to the joists with flooring 
brads. In some forms of joints these can be 

>aled. Occasionally, in high-class work 

screws are used, their hen<N being sunk about 

.rid the holes afterwards plugged with wood, 

grain <f which runs the same way as the 
boards. End grain joints may be either square 
or splay. --I. In the latter case only the over- 
ing part need be nailed. These joints must, 
of course, always occur on joists. For the sake 
of uniformity the lengths are usually arranged 
so that alternate boards are joined on the same 
joi>t. An unbroken line of heading joints is 
never allowed to occur on one joist as it would 
be a needlessly weak arrangement. To minimise 
the ojH-ning of joints through shrinkage of 
board> in their width, they should be well 
seasoned and tightly cramped together in laying. 
Narrow boards shrink less than wide ones. In 
good floors two thicknesses of boards are some- 
times laid, one at right angles to the other. In 
such cases the upper series of boards are usually 
of hard wood and less in thickness than the 
lower ones. Wood blocks are sometimes em- 
ployed instead of boards, but they are laid 
on conerete. 

The laying of floor boards should be delayed 
I long as possible to avoid getting them swollen 
by dampness in the building, and subsequently 
shrinking badly. When put down they should 
be as dry as possible. In cases where two layers 
of boards are put down transversely to each 
other, the under ones may be laid as soon as the 
jui-ts an- ready for them, and the others put on 
when the main work of the building is com- 

The Carpenter's WorK. The dimen- 
sions of the timbers are decided by the span 
and by the weight the floor has to carry. This 
latter ranges from about 1J cwt. allowed for 
each square foot of floor surface in dwelling- 
houses to 3 cwt. in warehouses and factories. 

stability of girders and binders, and the 
supports on which they rest, are of more im- 
portance than joists, which need not vary 
tly in ^.,-tion in any floor. The carpenter 
a with timbers of the section required 

In, pptk ooasfeta in cutting them to length' 
k , ln 8 l! y joints, and securing them 

in place. Tins is generally done while the walls 
" -in i-oune of erection, because it ties the 
da so provides staging on which planks 
la,d temporarily for convenience in build- 
<h the exception of flooring boards, 


is all concealed when W1C 
1 none ,,f it i8 planed, and no 

*d be pa,d to appearance. The work is 
Lilly 01 .i Bmpto character when thp flrr 
u.. i , . . . Ul 

th at 

repeated. m<l ; 


J'artition, between rooms 

""y f wo,,d i..>trad of brick 

re very f ,-,.,, 


or stone. The simplest form of partition is 
shown in 298. It is called a studded partition, 
and is intended to rest on a floor or joist. It 
consists of a square frame, the outside members 
of which may measure 3 in. by 4 in. or 4^ in. 
by 4 in. in section, filled in with a series of studs 
measuring 2 in. by 4 in. placed at intervals of 
1 ft, or 2 ft. Laths are nailed across these and 
plaster laid on as for a ceiling. Another method 
is to use boards in place of the laths [299], two 
horizontal rails being shown in this case, the 
upper one corresponding with the top of the 
doorway. Sometimes the spaces between the 
studs are filled in with brickwork, and these are 
called bricknogged partitions. The partition 
is usually 4J in. thick, to correspond with the 
bricks, but in some cases when the partition is 
very small, it is made 3 in. thick, and bricks may 
then be built in on edge. In many cases the 
weight of the partition cannot be allowed to rest 
on a floor, but must be carried directly by the 

Trussed Partitions. The framework 
then has to be trussed in a very similar 
fashion to that of roofs. Figs. 300 to 303 are 
examples of partitions which are said to be 
trussed, and which will bridge from wall to wall, 
with much more rigidity than the first two 
examples. Doorways at the side are usually 
necessary, and this complicates the trussing. 
Trussing, however, is not often now carried out 
so elaborately as formerly, the walls being often 
bridged by a steel girder which supports the 
partition, or the partition is arranged to come 
over one of the floor girders or binders, the 
dimensions of the latter being increased, if 
recessary, to carry the extra weight. 

The vertical studs are often stiffened by 
transverse nogging pieces. These may be fitted 
between [300], generally out of line as shown, for 
convenience in nailing them in ; or they may be 
in one piece notched in, either flush or slightly 
below the surface of the studs. In some cases 
short pieces are rebated between, instead of 
simply nailed. When laths and plaster have to 
be attached, the studs are generally a trifle wider 
than other parts of the framework of the parti- 
tion, so that the latter will not interfere with the 
key of the plaster. As with ceilings, narrow 
strips are sometimes put on the surface of wider 
pieces so that when the laths are on the plaster 
will not have its hold interfered with by the 
wide surfaces immediately under the laths. 
The attachment of narrow strips for this purpose, 
both in ceilings and partitions, is called ~brandering, 
or firring. Studs are stub-tenoned, and princi- 
pals tenoned through at top and bottom. 

In large trussed partitions the joints and 
methods of connection very much resemble those 
t king and queen post roof trusses. Straps and 
bolts are used in the same way, and the methods 
t jointing are the same. The horizontal 
member at the base is called the sill, the one at 
the top the head, and intermediate ones intertie. 
vertical members at the ends are wall po 
those which form doors are door posts. 


The Physics of the Body. Animal Magnetism. Mesmerism and 
Hypnotism. Psychical Mysteries Can Never be Explained by Physics 

Group 24 


Continued rom 
page 4'246 


IT is good to have the opportunity of discussing, 
however briefly, a subject of very grave in- 
terest, which has unfortunately lent itself to all 
sorts of quackeries and abuses. It has long been 
positively known that the living body possesses 
a number of remarkable electrical properties. 
We have already seen, for instance, that electrical 
changes are produced in the retina of the eye by 
the influence of light. Muscular tissue, also, 
is the site, under certain conditions, of the 
production of an electric current. We may 
briefly remind ourselves of the celebrated obser- 
vation made by Galvani, in 1786, of the motion 
in a frog's limbs hung from a metal railing. We 
now know that the muscles of that limb were 
alive. No current can be produced in dead 
muscle. The brief facts we have noted are only 
indications of the existence of a very interesting 
branch of science known as animal electricity. 
Mesmer and Mesmerism. But the 
term animal magnetism has been applied to 
phenomena of a different kind. They were first 
and most notably exploited by the celebrated 
Anton Mesmer (1733-1815). It was his theory 
that the influence exerted by certain persons 
upon other persons, and notably upon some of 
their diseases, is really of magnetic origin. It 
was a reasonable inference from this theory of 
animal magnetism that similarly satisfactory 
results might be obtained from the use of ordinary 
magnets in the treatment of disease. It was not 
long, however, before Mesmer discovered that 
this theory did not hold ; nevertheless the term 
animal magnetism survives to this day, and is 
still used or abused in many quarters. Only last 
year (1905), for instance, there was published, 
under the title " Personal Magnetism, Telepathy, 
and Hypnotism," a book which contains a good 
deal of truth, but \vhich, unfortunately, tends 
to perpetuate a delusion. We may say posi- 
tively that, in the sense in which the phrase 
has been used since it was first coined, there 
is no such thing as animal magnetism. 

We must not be misunderstood. It is one 
thing to assert that there is no such thing as 
animal magnetism, another and an entirely 
different thing to deny the reality of the remark- 
able and extremely important phenomena which 
this stupid phrase has been called upon to 
explain. Mesmer was a clever man, but he had 
much quackery in him, and his successor, the 
Baron Reichenbach, was like unto him. Thii~' 
man believed that he had discovered an impon- 
derable, or, as we should now say, a new form of 
energy, which he called odyl, produced by 
magnets, the human body, and other means. 

Hypnotism. It was just about this time 
that, in 1841, James Braid, a Manchester sur- 

geon, dismissed the physical explanation from the 
realm of the credible and raised the whole subject 
to a new plane. We owe to him the now 
recognised word hypnotism. The terms mesmer- 
ism and animal magnetism should be entirely 
dropped. They are wholly misleading, and 
indicate no truth at all. Amazing as the facts 
of hypnotism and suggestion are, and of the 
profoundest interest for the student of the mind, 
they have nothing whatever to do with what 
physicists have called magnetism, and the sooner 
the fact is generally recognised the better. 

It has been thought by some that the recent and 
extraordinary extension in physical and chemi- 
cal knowledge would reveal some basis of fact 
for the theories of those curious people who 
persist in desiring a materialistic explanation for 
these phenomena. This is not so, however. 
Neither the " chemistry of the ion " nor the 
" chemisty of the electron " to quote useful 
phrases employed by Sir. Wm. Ramsay 
has given the smallest indication of any physical 
basis for the facts of hypnotic suggestion ; nor 
need the N-rays be adduced as providing a 
probable explanation. Whether these N-rays 
exist or not, at any rate they have nothing to 
do with hypnotism, which is concerned with 
the action of mind upon mind, and with that 

Human Radio=activity. The question 
arises, however, whether there has not been 
demonstrated such a thing as human radio- 
activity, and whether this does not furnish at 
last a reasonable physical explanation of the 
facts of suggestion or animal magnetism so- 
called the term radio-activity merely being 
substituted for magnetism in the light of more 
advanced physical knowledge. In studying this 
question, the first point to consider is the 
existence of human radio-activity. As we have 
already seen, it is probable that radio-activity 
is a property possessed -in varying degrees by all 
forms of matter, that which composes the 
living body being no exception. But, as we have 
also seen, there is only a very scanty group of 
rare elements which display radio-activity 
in anything like a high degree ; indeed, the 
possession of this property by any elements other 
than radium, uranium, thorium, and a few 
more, is a matter of speculation and inference 
rather than actual demonstration. Now, though 
traces of these elements are possibly to be found 
everywhere, they are certainly not amongst 
the recognised constituents of the human 
body. For practical purposes, we may say 
that human radio-activity is a myth. If the 
living animal body displays any radio-activity 
at all, it is entirely negligible, being certainly 



no greater than that ot a host of impotent 
substances which have never been credited with 
the possession of " magnetism." That explana- 
tion must therefore be dismissed. 

The Body is not Radio - active. Ihe 
m .t i. .11 1 hat the living human body is radio-active 
is due to a popular error as to the meaning of 
the term radio active. Readers of this and its 
companion course are aware that radio-activity 
is the outward and visible sign of an inward 
atomic evolution, and that this sign consists 
of the expulsion of electrons or charged units 
of negative electricity from the radio-active 
atom. It has been thought, however, and some 
of the medical papers have helped to propagate 
the error, that the term radio-activity means 
simply the production of rays. If this were so, 
the term would have no special meaning at all. 
Everything that transmitted light rays or heat 
rays would be radio-active in that sense. But 
the rays produced by radio-active bodies are not 
ethereal waves at all, but are actual particles 
or corpuscles. 

The human body certainly does transmit 
ethereal waves, though there is no reason to 
suppose that these differ in quality or quantity 
in different persons according as whether they 
possess a high or low degree of personal magnetism 
lied. The body reflects light that falls 
upon it. It also emits in large degree the waves 
of radiant heat. If we are to believe Professor 
Blondlot, the body also produces the particular 
kind of ethereal waves that are named after him, 
and if we are to believe his colleague, Professor 
Charpentier, these are produced in exceptional 
degree by active nervous tissue. None of these 
properties, however, has anything to do with 

Non-physical Explanation of Psychi- 
cal Things. Furthermore, all these properties 
may be absolutely excluded from the causation 
of the facts of suggestion. We may study the 
physics of the body as closely as we please, but 
\\t- find nothing whatever that affords a physical 
ur materialistic explanation of these facts. On 
the contrary, we are confirmed more than ever 
in our knowledge that they have nothing 
whatever to do with anything physical or They belong to a totally different 
order ..f exigence, and no matter how subtle 
nr retined .. i impalpable our conceptions of 
}>hy-ie;il exi-tence may become, we are not one 
uliit nearer finding the psychical in the physical. 
The difteranoe between the two is the most ulti- 
mate, fundamental and absolute of all differences 
in tii.- universe ; all other differences are super- 
ficial. Any kind of matter or energy can be trans- 
i-d, we may believe, into any other kind, but 
soul can never be expressed in terms of matter. 

Th.- term i*r#tnal magnetism is only one more 
illustration ,f the constant attempt to explain 
the psychical m terms of the physical. If the 
reader desires to realise how constant this 
>!<t is. let him study the materialism which 
"J 1 and still is, the curse of religion, 

and from uhich on ly the religious conceptions 
OltM Ira m any a>:,- an free ; then let him turn 


to language and, as in the case of the two 
meanings of the word spirit, he will realise that 
men have always tried to express the psychical in 
terms of the rarefied physical. 

The Materialism of Human Think- 
ing. Thus, in discussing the phenomena of 
suggestion and hypnotism, we must be entirely 
independent of any physical terms. We have 
to employ such words as suggestion and sub- 
consciousness, but we will surely err whenever 
we introduce material language. The ex- 
planation of the whole illusion is immensely 
significant ; it is to be found in the incurable 
materialism of nearly all human thinking. A 
purely psychical explanation will never satisfy 
anyone but the philosopher. The common 
people want something material, but, of course, 
they want it rarefied. They will be most in- 
dignant if it is suggested that the soul con- 
sists of matter and rightly so. But if we suggest 
that the basis of the soul is electrical or ethereal, 
they are impressed, not realising that this 
explanation is just as materialistic as the other, 
and equally worthless. Thus, even at the present 
day, when some people who sternly reprobate 
materialism find solace in ridiculously material- 
istic explanations of psychical phenomena, we 
see the persistence of that habit of mind which 
the study of religions and the study of language 
which is almost incurably materialistic 
proves to have prevailed amongst mankind 
throughout the whole of history. 

Thirty years ago it was thought by some 
that physics, or, rather, the group of sciences 
which we include under that term, was ap- 
proaching something like finality. There was 
doubtless much room for improvement in detail, 
but the great discoveries had been made. The 
last decade, however, has witnessed what is 
nothing less than a transformation of many 
aspects of physics and the addition to it of new 
sciences. Radio-activity is by no means the only 
subject which has sprung into new existence of 
late years. We must attempt to outline the 
main facts of some of these in the brief 
remainder of our course. 

The Higher Psychics. It is to be hoped 
that we shall recognise how the " Great Mother of 
the Sciences," in giving birth to all these young 
children, has not lost her maternal control over 
them. On the contrary, every day shows more 
clearly, first, that each development in physics 
may be trusted to throw light upon subjects 
which, at first, may seem scarcely cognate, and, in 
the second place, that the empire of physics is 
steadily widening. Already we are on the verge 
of explaining all chemistry in physical language, 
as being none other than a matter of applied elec- 
tricity, and the time is at hand when the whole of 
astronomy will be similarly included within the 
grasp of the great principles of physics. We can- 
not yet say that biology itself must be regarded 
;is dcmonstrably no more than a higher physics, 
but the more closely we study living things and 
living matter, looking at them dynamically as well 
as statically, the more certain are we that this 
statement will one day be regarded as a platitude. 


Group 16 


Melting, Filtering-, Decolorising, and Boiling Down Processes. Crystallisation. 
Loaf, Cube and Granulated Sugar. Treacle. Golden Syrup. The Refinery 



continue d from 
page 4oS4 

L v 



""THE term refined sugar is used for those finer 
* qualities which are made from raw sugar at 
central refineries, and in which animal charcoal 
has been used for decolorising. The term is 
often incorrectly applied to chemically treated 
beet sugars. Sugar refining is mainly a 
mechanical process, and consists briefly in dis- 
solving the sugar in water, filtering through 
cloth to take out suspended matter, and then 
through animal charcoal to remove colour. The 
clear bright liquid is finally evaporated and 
boiled to crystallisation. 

Preliminary Treatment. The raw sugar 
is usually submitted to a preliminary treatment 
before the first stage. The raw sugar is mixed 
with a small quantity of syrup, put into a centri- 
fugal apparatus, and washed with steam until 
the syrup flowing from the centrifuge comes away 
of a light colour. Raw 
sugar may be said to 
consist of sugar crystals 
and molasses, and by 
washing out the latter 
the purity of the sugar 
is at once raised by this 
treatment. The method 
was first suggested by 
Weinrich, but much 
improved subsequently 
by Duncan and New- 
lands chiefly in the 
method of admitting 
steam and separating 
the grades of syrup. The 
process separates the 
raw sugar into partly 
refined crystals and 
washings containing a 
good proportion of the 

Melting. The partly 
refined sugar is dissolved in water, or as it is 
termed melted, the melting-pans, holding 3 tons 
to 10 tons, being known as blowups. The sugar 
is passed through a grating into the blow-up, 
hich is provided with a false bottom, stirring 
gear, and heating arrangement either of copper 
coils or for live steam [21]. Here the sugar is 
melted at a temperature of 150 F. to 170 F. 
to a syrup of 28 Beaume, and is then filtered. 
In the case of low quality sugars defecants are 
used in the blow-ups, the oldest and best 
known being blood. 

Filtration. Most refineries in Great Britain 
use the old Taylor bag or stocking filter [22] 
for clearing the liquor produced above, although 
the Danek filter is the favourite on ths Continent. 
The filter presses described under Beet Sugar 
Manufacture are also used, but not to any great 
extent [page 4163]. The Taylor filter consists of 



ng opening b. Steam 

a large iron chamber with tightly-fitting doors 
in the front, At the top is the tank or filter head, 
leading to a series of metal sockets to which long 
filter bags are attached. These bags are made of 
twilled cotton measuring 6 ft. long and 2 ft. to 3 ft. 
wide when opened out, The bags are put into 
sheaths of coarser material, and, the sheaths being 
smaller than the bags, a larger filtering surface 
is ensured. The bags are securely fastened on to 
the nozzles, and hang inside the chamber, which 
is fitted with steam heating appliances. A filter 
chamber contains 200 to 500 of the filter bags, 
and each bag can be separately controlled by 
plugging the hole leading to it from the filter 
head, this being necessary when one of the bags 
turns out to be defective. Some modern forms 
of Taylor filters have removable filter heads, 
so that the whole battery of filter bags can be 

removed at once and 

replaced by a fresh set. 
The liquor from the 
blow-ups is run on to 
the filter head, and 
passes into the bags, the 
temperature being main- 
tained by letting steam 
into the filter chamber. 
When the bags become 
blocked up with dirt the 
liquid ceases to pass, 
the supply of liquid is 
cut off, and the bags 
allowed to drain. The 
bags are then detached, 
and washed systemati- 
cally in several tanks 
of warm water, the 
washings being reserved 
on account of the sugar 


valve c. Steam injector for 

Decoloration. From the Taylor filter 
the bright liquid is passed to large char cisterns. 
These are iron towers from 18 ft. to 50 ft, high, 
filled with animal charcoal or char. The bottom 
of the char cistern is a perforated plate covered 
with a blanket, and on this the char is packed 
to within a short distance of the top. The bright 
liquor, still warm, is allowed to flow in at the top, 
and, when full of liquid, the bottom cock is 
turned off and the whole left to " settle " for 
some hours. A char filter holding 20 tons of 
char has room, in addition, for about 10 tons of 
liquor. After a few hours, the cock at the bottom 
is opened, and the liquor, now free from colour, 
drains away. More liquor is slowly introduced, 
until the filtrate becomes tinted, Avhen the 
stream of liquid is passed into a separate vessel 
for a lower grade product. This is continued 
until the colour shows that the char has ceased 



to work, when the -upply of liquor at the top is 

,-ut otf and what remains in tlu- char cistern 

ned oil: the char is then washed with hot 

: and the washings run into tin- sweet-water 

t ink as long as they >huu th- present of notable 

quantities of sugar. 

The char is in this way 

w.i>h.-(l till the water 

tear, when it is 

,1 to drain, and 

'he.-lmr taken out ami 

!,-\i\itied by Inirning. 

In some sugar houses. 

-ulphurous acid is 

added to tin- yellow 

liquor and exerts a 

\.-ry effectual bleach- 

and although the char can be revivified a 
large number of times there comes a time 
when the organic bodies referred to are used up 
and the charcoal is useless. 

Alternative processes of revivification have been 
suggested by artificial 
cultures of bacteria. 

Many substitutes for 
char have been pro- 
posed, several of them 
containing carbona- 
ceous matter with 
absorbent earths. They 
fall far short of char. 

Boiling down is 
effected in the multiple 
effect apparatus and 
vacuum pans described 
in the article on beet- 
root sugar manu- 
Crystallisation in 

ing action, any excess 
of acid being expelled 
in the subsequent heat- 
ing operations. Char- 
waging machines are 22. TAYLOR rliji ^ 
much used. Motion. In loyl tne 
Reburning Char. The revivification of Machinenfabrik Grevenbroich patented their 
the charcoal is effected in pipe kilns [23]. The method of crystallising in motion a distinct 
pipe kiln consists of a series of cast-iron pipes advance on previous practice. The massecuite 
into which the char is placed and heat applied to .from the pan is run into the apparatus, which 

the outside of the pipes. The 
kilns are heated either by 
direct coke firing or by gas, the 
advantages of the latter 
method being that there is an 
economy of fuel, absence of 
allies, and greater uniformity 
in heating. Beneath the kiln 
pipes are corresponding cooling 
pipes. The char is brought to 
th<> kilns wet, and is first dried 
and then, having been filled 
into the kiln pipes, is heated 
red hot. The char is next 
to the cooling pipes 
iieneiith by means of discharge 
Hie contents of the 
cooling pipes being passed to a 
h"pper, and from this taken to 
the < liar cistern for use again. 

Animal Charcoal. 

Animal charcoal is prepared 

from bon.-s by first demv.iHim 

them by heating with water or 

B1 such as hcn/.ene. and 

ii-lM.nising the bunes in 

retorta. The carbonising takes 

-'lit hours and during 

"ess bone oil and am- 

"'H'-'-ted M-parately. The 
thru pla-ecl 

iiiht bins to rool. and. 
">"li"U. ern>hed and 
graded by -ifti n> r. Su^ar ieii, 1( .,- s 
i line trrain ,-har for 



''. lim-liaiian & .Son, Liverpool) 

takes the form of a large cylin- 
der, and is kept in very slow 
movement by a stirring arrange- 
ment. In most cases hot water 
is circulated in the outer vessel 
to control the cooling, and in 
some cases the vessel is airtight 
and worked under a partial 
vacuum, air pressure being 
utilised to empty the pan when 
finished. The process prevents 
the formation of small grain by 
inducing the crystallisable parts 
of the massecuite to grow on 
crystals already formed or intro- 
duced. In the latter case the 
crystals are brought up to the 
temperature of the massecuite 
before being added. The advan- 
tage of having large crystals 
over small ones is that the 
separation of molasses in the 
centrifugal machines is much 

The method is used in beet 
sugar manufacture as well as for 
residual products of the refinery. 

Centrifugal Machines. 
When sugar is to be machined 
it is run from the vacuum pan 
into a heater fitted with stirring 
gear. From this it is placed 
into the baskets of centrifugal 
machines which, when revolved 
at a high speed, throw out the 
syrup. The sugar is more or 

, Uh >' aon, uverpooi) ^washed, discharged into 

' I til I" 7h '", <>HS , lly "to*** >>t bin, airdried, and packed in bags holding 2 cwt. 
Play un uuportant for sale. The syrups and washings are collected 
separately; from the syrups another crop of 
crystals is obtained, while the washings, being 

^seolour al,,,rl>ers. These or^anie' Udies 
ivcd out by the sugar liquors 

has washing or 

purer, arc boiled up with the liquors used for 
producing first product sugar. The centrifugal 
machine [24] is an apparatus which by water, 
belt, or electrical driving is spun at a rate 
varying from 500 to 1,200 revolutions a minute. 
It is arranged for discharging the contents 
at the top or bottom and h 
steaming appliances. Super- 
heated steam is used in the 
Baker process. The basket into 
which the sugar is placed is made 
of perforated metal, the revolu- 
tion of the basket causing the 
mass of crystals and molasses 
to be violently thrown against 
the inner wall ; the molasses 
and a portion of the crystals 
pass through the perforations, 
but the greater part of 
the crystals are retained 
in the basket. Centrifugals 
are either driven or sus- 
pended, the latter type 
being used more. The size 
of the basket is 30 in. 
diameter, but a larger size 
of 48 in. diameter is in 
use which, although econo- 
mising labour, takes more 
power to drive. 

Loaf Sugar. The 
oldest form of refined 
sugar is the sugar loaf. 
To make these the masse- 
cuite is formed with a small grain, run into a 
heater and raised to between 180 and 190 F. 
From this the mass is run into conical iron 
moulds, which have a small hole at the top 
or cone and a series of moulds is placed cone 
downwards in a supporting frame. The hole 
at the bottom is stopped up with a wooden 
tipike. When the sugar has partly solidified the 
contents of the mould are mixed up with a 
off' ; hook with 
the object of 
making the 
x t u r e 

le loaf even. 
?he moulds 

?main in the 
illing - house 
for 10 or 12 
hours and by 
that time the 
contents have 
become solid. 
Next, the 

(Watson, Laidlaw & Co., Glasgow) 


u. Charging hopper ft. Discharge valve c. Steam inlet pipe d. Water outlet pipe 

moulds are removed to a warm room, the plugs 
in the cones removed and " green " syrup drips 
from the mould for about 24 hours. A process 
known as liquoring then takes place. The top 
surface of the sugar is removed, mixed with syrup 
(white liquor, clear e, or clairce), and replaced. 
White liquor is then fed on to the top of the 
loaf and drains from the cone, taking with it 
any coloured impurities that remain in the 


sugar. The liquoring is repeated several times, 
blued water being used for the final liquoring 
until the runnings are quite clear and the loaves 
of uniform whiteness. Special appliances are 
in use for supplying measured" quantities of 
clairce to the cones, and suction apparatus 
worked by compressed air is employed (by 
Steffen & Scheibler) to hasten 
the passage of the liquor through 
the sugar loaf. The loaves are 
eventually taken out of the 
moulds, dried in racks, and 
wrapped up in thick paper. The 
process takes about a fortnight. 
The blued water referred to above 
is prepared from pure ultramarine, 
the purpose of the slight addition 
of blue being to correct any re- 
maining tint of yellow. 
Special centrifugal ma- 
chines are made for purg- 
ing sugar loaves in the 
centrifuge, and many 
machines have been 
devised for finishing off 
the loaves and also for 
cutting them into cubes. 

Cube Sugar. The 
slowness of the method 
of making sugar loaves 
has led inventors to study 
the question of how to 
make cube sugar in a 
quicker manner. Many 
inventions to this end, which involve similar 
principles, have been patented. The massecuite 
is boiled to small grain and filled into divided 
moulds of such a size that a plate of sugar is 
produced. The moulds are either a kind of 
centrifugal basket or contrived to fit into the 
centrifugal basket. The massecuite is cooled in 
the mould, during which process the crystals are 
joined together by a secondary crystallisation. 

The cooled 
moulds are 
then put in the 
centrifugal and 
the syrup spun 
out. The 
plates are also 
washed with 
clairce, which 
is in turn spun 
out. The 
moulds are 
removed and 
taken apart, 
the plates of 
sugar being 
special store in a 

separated and dried in a 
current of hot air. W'hen the plates of sugar are 
dry, they are cut up into cubes in machines 
invented for the purpose. The Adant cube sugar 
process is worked on the above lines. 

Cube Sugar is Ousting Loaf Sugar. 
Another principle adopted in some machines, 
such as the Hersey cube machine, is to produce 
sticks or cubes of sugar by means of pressure 



trum uhite sugar that has been dried and 

nu^cd in the centrifuge. Tliis process is much 

iujed in tli.- rnitcd States. The method outlined 

in which the cubes are made from the 

maoM-cuite direct, is preferable. The cube form 

n-plji-.-inji the Did form of loaf sugar. 

Granulated Sugar. Granulated sugar is 
nriKlui <! l.y the Hersey process, patented in 187J. 
I'll.- granalator [ 25] consists of an outer conveyer 
cylinder 23 ft. long, 6 ft. diameter, inside which is 
I In- cylinder '2:} ft. long, and 30 in. diameter, 
K'ed to revolve about five times in a minute, 
and heated internally by steam. The granulator 
is inclined from the horizontal position, so that 
introduced at one end travels mechanically 
to tin- lower end. A current of air is passed 
MI- driven through the drying chambers to 
absorb the moisture that arises from the sugar 
during its passage through the granulator. 
Sugar is first washed in a centrifuge, and then 
passed through the granulator, about 30 barrels 
of sugar being treated in an hour. 

The effective drying of sugar is an important 
matter, since, if it be stored in a moist condition, 
much deterioration or " greying " results, owing 
to the action of bacteria developed on the sugar. 
A sugar store that has become infected with 
" greying " bacteria must be thoroughly disin- 
fected, Tnl lens's formaldehyde lamp being useful 
for this. 

Other Methods of Refining. Alcohol 
-u^rstrd for refining sugar by Duncan 
and Ncwlands as long ago as 1878. The 
sugar was heated Avith alcohol when the sugar 
was dissolved ; then, on cooling, the sugar was 
deposited in a pure state. Ten pounds of sugar 
required three gallons of alcohol. But the high 
cost of the alcohol and the expense due to loss 
.in- prohibitive. 

In Langan's process the raw sugar is 

mi-.ed with a saturated syrup so as to make a 

kind of artificial massecuite. The mass is drawn 

into a vacuum pan for the removal of small 

grain and any contained air. The mass is boiled 

t. fun n .1 natural massecuite, then cooled in 

crystallisers to about 49 C., and subjected to a 

mat it washing and liquoring with saturated 

\ i iij) to increase the purity. The sugar is then 

dissolved in the washing receptacle itself by 

MS of a special appliance. The object of the 

Langan process is to prevent the waste of sugar 

ordinarily dm- to Dilution of the crystals in the 

,-nt ri fu^al machines. By using saturated syrup 

ilii> diflinilty i> overcome. 

Fontenille and Desormeaux's Pro- 
cess. Th- Fon t.-ni lie and Desormeaux process 
was patented in IMIS, th.- claim bring that by 
A Mijrar can he converted in less than 
four hours into n-fini-d sugar in pieces ready 
for deliv.iv to the consumer. The method is 
1 in the following stages: 

1 N!l1 ' '!" tan Migur at a temperature of 
from 70 to 7.-, C. .ind at a density of about 28 

Add finely-powdered animal charcoal in the 
rtiMi, ,,f from ."> to 40 per cent, of the raw 
r, and mix at above temperature until the 
MfcmrfetfsefaMged from the ro gar. 

3. Filter in press-filter, or separate the sugar in 
a centrifugal machine, the charcoal being re- 
covered and washed. 

4. Reheat the syrup to 75 C. 

5. Pass the syrup through bag filters undei 

6. Concentrate, and boil to grain. 

7. Pass the massecuite into moulds or crystal- 
lising apparatus, or submit to centrifugal action. 
If poured into moulds only one cleansing is re- 
quired ; if into a crystallising apparatus, the 
syrup is sucked away by vacuum, and one 
cleansing only is needed. When the centrifugal 
method is used the mass is cleansed in the 

8. The mass from the crystallising apparatus, 
or centrifuge, is broken up and sifted, and then 
sent to the moulding machine after moistening 
with 2 or 3 per cent, of blue water. 

9. The moulding machine forms the pieces 
of the size required for sale by pressing. The 
pieces are expelled mechanically. 

10. The pieces are dried in a store at 60 C., 
either in air or vacuum. 

Crosfield and Stein's Process. The 
Crosfield and Stein process depends on the 
treatment of the acid solution of sugar with 
peroxide of hydrogen. 

The raw sugar is melted at about 160 F., 
and the acidity brought up to about 0*02 per 
cent, with phosphoric acid. The acid sugar 
liquor at about 27 Beaume, and at a tempera- 
ture of 180 F., is treated with '01 to 1 per cent, 
of sulphate of alumina, and subsequently with 
0-005 to 0'6 per cent, of tannic acid ; then with 
0'05 to 0'2 per cent, of phosphoric acid, this 
treatment partly destroying the colour. Where 
deemed necessary the liquor may be treated 
with sulphurous acid. The liquor is next filtered, 
and the filtrate is treated with O'Ol to 1 per 
cent, of peroxide of hydrogen, and phosphate 
of soda or ammonia in quantities of about 
0-005 to 0-2 per cent. 

The liquor is passed through a filter press, 
and the clear, bright solution boiled to crystals 
in a vacuum pan. The massecuite, which is 
very white and bright, is machined in centri- 
fugal machines, and washed therein with concen- 
trated syrup, or, if desired, sugar solution and 
peroxide of hydrogen. 

Robin = Langlois' Process. By the 
Robin -Langlois method, patented in 1898, the 
fibres and dust in the sugar are removed by 
blowing air across a stream of sugar falling from 
a hopper on to a series of inclined boards. 
The sugar is then crushed and treated with 
steam in order to introduce a definite small pro- 
portion of moisture, and to brighten the facets 
of the small crystals. This operation is per- 
formed in the mixer for the sake of uniformity. 
Jets of steam or atomised water impinge against 
angle plates, whence they rebound on to the 
sugar, falling from the supply tube into the 
mixer in two streams. 

The mixer is essentially an annular space 
between two concentric hot- water jackets, the 
rotating blades and sugar being contained 
in this space at a desired high temperature. 

The discharge hole of the mixer stands above 
an annular trough in a revolving circular table, 
the circumference of the two machines inter- 
secting to the necessary extent. 

The circular table contains on its periphery a 
trough across which the moulds are arranged 
radially in juxtaposed boxes. These moulds 
are open at the top, and have perforated bot- 
toms. They are locked, disengaged, and opened 
by special appliances which enable them to 
work continuously and to be emptied without 
injury to the bars of sugar. As the annular 
series of moulds revolve, they pass in turn under 
the discharge hole of the mixer, and are filled 
with sugar by inclined scrapers ; they then pass 
on, and the sugar in each mould is compressed 
by a corrugated roller, fixed in relation to the 
table, but revolving on its own axis, so that its 
projections correspond consecutively with each 
mould. At a further stage of the revolution 
the moulds are automatically placed under 
vacuum and the syrup sucked out, and when 
dry they are unlocked, emptied, and read- 
justed continuously by the devices mentioned 

La Fontaine's Process. In the La Fon- 
taine method the patentee employs the reducing 
agents to the massecuite instead of the raw juice. 
Ten parts by volume of liquid sulphurous acid 
is diluted with 100 parts of water, and 4 litres 
of this liquid is added at intervals of five minutes 
to 100 kilos of massecuite previously diluted 
with molasses from a preceding operation. The 
mass is well mixed, allowed to rest for an hour, 
and then centrifugalised. When the greater 
part of the molasses has separated, 2 litres 
of the sulphurous acid solution is added by an 
atomiser jet to attack any colouring matter that 
may have escaped action and be still adhering 
to the crystals. By means of a perforated 
tube depending into the centrifugal machine, 
a mixture of dry steam and peroxide of hydro- 
gen (6 vol. strength) is injected to remove any 
remaining sulphurous acid. After five minutes 
of this treatment the crystals become remarkably 
white and completely transparent, thus indicat- 
ing their purity. Although this process does 
not properly come under the head of refining 
sugar, it is given here as indicating one of the 
newer methods of whitening sugar. 

Ranson Process. In the Hanson process 
the syrup is made alkaline witb barium hydrate 
or sodium carbonate, and hydrogen peroxide 
added in the proportion of from | litre to 5 litres 
per 100 kilos of sugar, according to the colour 
of the product. The decoloration is effected 
gradually. To every 100 kilos of sugar 100 
grammes of powdered animal charcoal freed from 
phosphate is added to accelerate the liberation 
of oxgyen from the hydrogen peroxide by Avhich 
the decoloration is effected. The excess of' 
oxgyen is removed from the syrup by adding 
hydrosulphites of aluminium or barium or by 
producing hydrosulphurous acid in the syrup. 
The excess of sulphite in the syrup is converted 
into sulphate by adding hydrogen peroxide. 


The temperature is then raised to 78 C. and the 
syrup filtered and boiled to crystallisation. 

Ultramarine, The substance ultramarine 
which has been referred to several times is a 
double silicate of sodium and aluminium, to- 
gether with bisulphide of sodium. It is a 
beautiful blue colour, and is made by burning 
a mixture of sodium sulphate, china clay, and 
carbon in crucibles for from six to nine hours 
at a red heat. The dull green product thus 
obtained is mixed with sulphur and roasted 
until it assumes a bright blue colour. In the 
"direct" method soda is employed, and a very 
careful regulation of the heat of the crucibles 
is required for successful manufacture, Pro- 
cesses of washing, sifting, and drying have to 
be gone through before a marketable product 
is obtained. Ultramarine exists in Nature as 
lapis lazuli, and was not prepared artificially 
till 1828, when the above method was discovered 
independently by Guimet and Gmelin. Since 
then improvements in the manufacture .have 
brought about reductions in the cost, and, con- 
sequently, new uses for the product have Iven 
opened out. 

Treacle and Golden Syrup. When 
the syrups no longer yield sugar they are made 
into treacle, golden syrup, or invert sugar. 
Golden syrup is a purer kind of treacle. Of 
late years the quality has much improved, the 
appearance in many cases being artificially 
improved by the addition of glucose syrup. 
Glucose syrup is also used to prevent granulation, 
but in the opinion of some experts is not neces- 
sary if the sugar syrup be well inverted. The 
process of inverting sugar is explained in a 
separate lesson, either the acid process or Tomp- 
son's yeast method being used, although there 
are objections to Tompson's method on account 
of the introduction of organic matter. The golden 
syrup is passed through a char filter and when 
perfectly bright and clear is concentrated in the 
vacuum pan to the required viscosity. 

Residual molasses of too low a quality for 
making golden syrup is sold to the distiller or 
used for cattle food. 

The Refinery. The site of a refinery 
should be well chosen for the purchase of raw 
sugar, and the distribution of the finished sugar. 
If near a coalfield it would be an additional 
advantage. There should be a good supply of 
soft water and the cost of labour should be 
moderate. The blow-ups are placed on the top 
floor of the factory, beneath them being the 
Taylor filter:;, and knver still the char filters. 
The char kilns are usually in a separate 
building. The number of refineries has much 
diminished of recent years owing in a great 
measure to the baneful influence of sugar 
bounties. In 1875 there were 20 refineries in 
London, 9 in Liverpool, 3 in Bristol, 2 in Man- 
chester, 1 each in Earlestown, Plymouth, and 
Newcastle-under-Lynie, 13 in Greenock, 1 in 
Leith, and 1 in Dublin ; total, 52. At the present 
time there are approximately only 10 refineries 
in the United Kingdom. 



Group 11 




Sewerage Systems. Laying Out a Sewerage System. Sewers, 
Manholes, and Syphons. Pumping and Ventilating Sewers 



this course it is intended to describe briefly 
the principles which govern the design and 
execution of works relating to the sewerage of 
a town, anft the disposal of the sewage there- 
from. By the house drain the fluid refuse of a 
building is delivered into the public sewer, to be 
i \eyed away for disposal as quickly as 
possible. In some cases several house drains 
discharge into a drain serving a row of houses 
at their backs (called a combined drain), and 
this connects with the mam sewer. 

Sewerage Systems. In determining the 
volume of sewage to be dealt with in a 
town, the first thing is to decide whether the 
whole, or only part, of 
the rainfall is to be 
admitted to the sewers. 
If all the rainwater is 
to pass into the sewers 
it is called the combined 
system of sewerage. If 
the rainwater is not ad- 
mitted to the sewers, 
but is carried away by 
independent pipes, it is 
called the separate 

system. If the rain- 
water from roofs, yards, 

etc, is admitted which 

it often is the system 

is called the partially 

separate. The separation 

<f t he rainfall or, at all 

events, of a considerable 

part of it enables the 

sewers to be designed 

so as to be self-cleansing, 

and tlie >ewage which is 
'd by them is 

brought to the point of 

I. --Large in a fresher 

state than i* possible 

where the sewers are 

eafenkted t.> num.\ the 

whime. M 'th.-y 

<1- P-i. m dry weather. That which is admitted 
' fojjjed, if possible, to the rain falling 
roofs, ,,.,, yardgf court back 8 


, r 
d surfaces. ,,,.. uhj ( . h may 

M r!iall 
held-,, etc. 



termed t'ra- 

with much horse 

HI I .sequent 
and may 

Volume of Sewage. The volume of 
sewage to be provided for in a system neces- 
sarily depends on the rainfall, a part of which 
inevitably reaches the sewers. If the town has 
many manufactories, the fluid from which is 
admitted to the sewers, then provision must 
be made for a much greater volume. This has 
to be determined by an intelligent investigation 
on the part of the engineer, as no fixed quantity 
can be adopted for general application, as is 
shown by the fact that in forty towns in this 
country the volume varies from 25 gallons per 
head to 90 gallons per head. The factors 
which govern the questions are : 

1. The amount of 
water used in private 

2. The amount of rain- 
fall that is admitted to 
the sewers. This de- 
pends" on the system, 

~-r.v either separate or com- 
j bined, which is adopted, 
j and also upon- the rain- 

r.j f a n o f ^e district. 

3. The number of 
manufactories, and the 
volume that is dis- 
charged from them. 

In calculating the 
amount of storm water 
that will enter a sewer- 
age system the rate of 
rainfall has to be ascer- 
tained, especially the 
falls of short duration, 
which are more frequent 
and intense than those 
over longer periods. A 
study of the rain gauges 
in a town can determine 
this. An interesting 
paper was read at the 
Institution of Civil 
Engineers by Mr. Lloyd 
Da vies in January, 1906, 
in which the results of a careful series of 
observations made in Birmingham over a 
long period are given. Only a brief reference 
can be made to it, and the following conclusions 
recorded : 

(1) That the storm-water discharge from any 
*<i distnct is directly proportional to the per- 
centage of impermeable area comprised in it, 

(. That, subject to a time allowance being added 

for the entrance of the rain into the system, the dia- 

. storm water from underground channels 

oportional to the aggregate rainfall during the 

time of concentration of the water through tho 


suitable character to allow the fluid to sink 
quickly below the surface, and away from wells. 
In cesspools a septic or liquefying action takes 
place on the organic solids. A certain amount 
f - of solid matter, however, re- 

mains, involving the clear- 
ing out of the cesspool at 
stated times. 

Laying Out a Sewer* 
age System. Having 
ascertained what amount of 
sewage has to be provided 
for in the sewers, we now 
consider how to lay out a 
sewerage system. It is ob- 
vious that the total dis- 
observations are given in 2. THE FIELD AUTOMATIC FLUSHING CHAMBER charge from a town must 

conduits, from the extreme boundaries of the district 
to the point of observation. 

(3) That the maximum rate of flow is reached 
when the greatest cumulative rainfall applicable to 
the duration of the nvntmum time of concentration 
and to the district considered rn 

(4) That the total volume of 
storm water received is pro- 
portional to the maximum 
rate of flow. 

Overflow Cham = 
bers. The design of storm 
overflow chambers [1] de- 
serves a reference, and the 
following is a description of 
one adopted at Birmingham 
with success, and detailed 

Mr. Lloyd Davies' paper. 

The overflow sill is situated at a level equal 

to that attained by six times the average dry- 
weather flow in the foul 
sewer. Across the foul 
sewer at the sill-level a 
cast - iron separating - 
plate, V, is fixed hori- 
zontally, and to this is 
riveted a vertical deflec- 
ting plate, W, with a 
hood. When the flow 
exceeds the volume 
giving the requisite 
dilution, the surplus 
storm -water is accu- 
rately separated and 
deflected into the relief 
culvert, X, the re- 
mainder passing freely 
under the plate, and 
down the foul sewer, Y. 
The length of the sill is 
arranged so that a large 
percentage of the over- 
flow will fall into the 
3. PENSTOCK tumbling bay, Z, before 

the plates are brought 

into action, and undue impact is thus avoided. 


The reason for taking six times tli 
dry- weather flow is that at the 
present time the Local Govern- 
ment Board requires provision 
to be made for that amount at 
sewage disposal outfalls. 

Treatment of Isolated 
Buildings. For isolated build- 
ings and villages, where no 
sewerage system is admissible, 
the excremental refuse is got 
rid of by dry earth closets, 
pail, or midden system, and 
by cesspits. In the first-named 
the refuse has to be removed 
from the dwelling promptly, and 
disposed of on land in the neigh- 
bourhood, where it can be 
utilised for agricultural pur- 
poses. If cesspools receive the fluid refuse, they 
should be placed so that when filled, whatever 
overflows is conveyed to adjoining land of a 


vary during the twenty -four 
hours. It is usual to calculate that about one- 
half the flow will pass off in six hours, or about 
8 per cent, per hour in the tributary sswers. 
The volume to be provided for in the main 
outfall sewer will be affected by the dis- 
tances of the tributary sewers serving the 
various parts of a large town from the 
outfall sewer, and also by their gradi- 
ents. The sewage from one part will 
reach the outfall sooner or later than from 

It is usual to calculate the size of the 
sewer so that it runs 
about two - thirds or 
three-quarters full at its 
maximum flow, with a 
velocity of about 3 ft. 
per second, which, it has 
been decided, will carry 
away the usual solid 
matters, and prevent 
them depositing and 
putrefying. In large 
sewers, a velocity of .4 DISC VALVE 
2| ft. per second should 

be obtained when they are running one-third 
full, 2 ft. per second when running one-halt' 
full, and 3 ft. per second when running two- 
thirds or three-quarters full. The velocity should 
never be less than 2 ft. per 

Automatic Flushing. 
If the district be flat, so that 
the levels do not admit of the 
gradients giving the required 
velocities, automatic flushing 
tanks have to be adopted, or 
the sewage can be headed 
back by penstocks, placed so 
as to divide the sewers up into 
sections. The rush of fluid thus 
produced ensures the solid 
matters being carried forward. 
The illustration [2] shows an 
automatic flushing chamber 
with which the name of the 
late Rogers Field, the in- 

ventor, will always be associated. 

Fig. 5 is an illustration of an Adams flushing 
tank fixed in a manhole. 


' ">'.._' T 


When the manhole has to I,.- entered for any 
purpose, it can In- drained l.y n-m..ving a plug, 
which clears it of water. 

PenstocK. A pen>to--k consists of a sliding 
Hat plate or shutter which fits into, and can 
move up ami down in a grooved recess at the 
|,ot torn of the manhole in the sewer. This 
> I id ing plate is 
attached to a rod, 
ly which the pen- 
stock, is put int.. 
operation. A man 
n down the 
plate, and closes the r 
lower part of the 
sewer, thus heading 
back the sewage, 
which rises behind 
the penstock until 
the sewer is tilled to 

anv height that the arrangement has provided. 
After a time the man returns and raises the 
penstock, causing the impounded sewage to pass 
with a rush down the sewer. 

The form of penstock shown [3] is provided 
with a rod, and is moved up and down by 
means of a key which fits on to the top of the 
rod. For smaller sewers the same object can 
be attained by means of an ordinary disc valve, 
a form of which is shown in 4. 

Storm Overflows. In the event of 
sewers receiving the whole of the rainfall it 
is essential that provision should be made of 
storm overflows or relief sewers, to deal with 
tunes of floods due to exceptionally heavy 
rainfall acting for a short time, 
i .-lilting in the sewers becoming 
gorged, and flooding the base- 
ments of houses. We can best 
emphasise this by giving par- 
ticulars of a case in which the 
writer was engaged some years 
ago. A district on the south 
-ide of the metropolis had been 
gradually built over, but no 
adequate increase of the sewer- 
ago system had been made. 

itually. a heavy fall of rain 
occurred, which caused one of 
the sewers to become gorged, 
.uid houses were flooded, doing 
much damaife. This sewer dis- 
charged into one of the metro- 
politan outfalls, which, being 
also gorged, could not receive 

^wage. The writer had to 

-tigate the matter, and a 
.'l her with a 

overflow, wen- proposed. 
A >iudv of the illustrations 
[8und 7] will explain the state 

Size and Gradient. Having ascertained 
the volume of sewage to be dealt with, and 
the various levels of the ground and of 
the house drains having been recorded, we 
have to calculate the size and gradient of 
the sewer to carry away the sewage. The 
following formula has been adopted by the 




V = 

where V = the mean 
velocity in feet per 
second, R =the "hy- 
draulic radius " in 
feet that is, 

area of water 

wetted perimeter' 

S = the cosecant of 

the angle of incli- 

nation of the hydraulic gradient = 

C = a coefficient representing the roughness of 
the surface. 

The index x, the root n, and the coefficient C 
depend on the nature of the surface of the 

For brick sewers in good condition, the value 
of x = '61, n = 2, and C = '007746. The 
formula for brick sewers therefore becomes 
"R -01 

v =-*.! 


skeirma ,fterm, 


of affair-, at the time of the- flooding, and the 


The diagram j?| shows how the gorging 
of the old -,.-\\,-i u,i- to IK? remedied by pro- 
viding a >torm o\,-rilow when the sewage 
tot levi-1 of 4-_'-iM. when it passed away to 
tii- n. 

I I. Is 

where C = -007746 

In the writer's book on " Sewerage and 
Sewage Disposal " a diagram is 
given, from which can be scaled 
the velocities, discharges, etc., 
of various sewers, without 
having to work them out by 
the formula. 

An oval or egg -shaped sewer, 
instead of a circular one, has an 
advantage, owing to the greater 
velocity obtained in the con- 
tracted lower part of the oval, 
when the volume uf sewage is 
at its minimum. 

The internal dimensions of 
an oval or egg-shaped sewer are 
determined as follows : 
If D = the internal depth of 
the sewer that is, from 
the top of the arch to the 
surface of the invert, 
R = the radius of the top 

of the sewer, 
r = the radius of the invert 

of the sewer, 

x the radius of the sides 
that is, the curve- 
joining the top and bottom curves, then 

D = x 


In some cases r is taken at J of D, where the 
sewer has to convey at times only a very small 
volume of sewage, as the contraction of the invert 
tends to prevent deposits by increasing the depth 
of sewage, and consequently improving the 
velocity. If the volume of sewage be subject 
to great fluctuation, so that at times it is very 
small, the egg-shaped or oval sewer is preferable 
to the circular form. Where the sewage generally 
half fills the sewer, the oval shape loses this 
advantage, and the 
circular shape is 
cheaper to make, 
while it is also 

The thickness of 
sewers varies with 
the size, the nature of the ground, and the 
depth. A 4^-in. ring of brickwork suffices for 
the smaller sizes in good ground. In larger 
sewers the thickness varies from 9 in. upwards. 
The thickness can be calculated by the formula 

inn - = thickness of brickwork in feet, 

where D = depth of excavation, and R = ex- 
ternal radius of sewer. 

Manholes. Sewers must be laid in straight 
and not curved lines. The invert of the sewer 
must also be a straight line. Any alterations 
or depressions both inter- 
fere with the flow of 
sewage and assist the for- 
mation of deposits. At 
every change of direction 
of the sewer a manhole 
should be placed. This is 
carried to the surface of 
the road, and enables a 
man to go down and in- 
spect the sewer between 
the manhole in which he 
is and the next one, a 
light being placed in the 
latter. It is usual to have 
means of inspection every 
100 yards so that if the 
manholes be farther apart, 
owing to a long piece of 
straight sewer, a lamp- 
hole is placed at these 
intermediate points. 
Lampholes are small, 
vertical iron or stone- 
ware pipes carried up 
to the road level so 
as to enable a man 
to lower a lantern to the sewer at that point. 

Syphons. When the sewer has to be 
carried under the bed of a stream, either in the 
form of a syphon or in the continuation of the 
gradient, it is best to make it of cast iron, as 
the flanged pipes can be bolted up on rafts or 
barges, lowered into position quickly and covered. 
Fig. 8 shows a syphon carried out by the writer 
in this way. 

The syphon was tested by water pressure to see 
that it was sound, and the trench was filled with 



concrete, by means of wooden funnels, to prevent 
the stream washing away the cement. A copper 
wire cord ought to be passed through the 
syphon before it is put into position, and left 
there permanently to admit of a scraper being 
drawn through at any time the pipe may get 

Open Grids. Covers are placed over all 
manholes and lampholes, with open grids or 
gratings in them for ventilation. These grids 
should form part of 
a system of venti- 
lation acting as in- 
lets for fresh air, the 
outlets consisting of 
iron pipes carried up 
the sides of houses 


or trees, and away from windows, or columns 
in the road placed at shelters, etc., and at 
a height sufficient to cause any foul gas to 
be diffused above people's heads. In certain 
cases these open grids have to be sealed. Some 
advocate the abolition of the trap on the 
house drain, so that the soil-pipe will act as 
an upcast for the foul air from the public 
sewer. This is open to the objection that the 
private house will then be receiving the ob- 
jectionable sewer gas, which should be dealt 
with in some systematic and intelligent way 
by the public authority. 

Sewer Ventilation. The ventilation of 
sewers is a matter of such importance in regard 
to public health that it deserves full considera- 
tion, and reference will be 
made to systems which have 
been employed to prevent 
the obnoxious gases which 
are generated in sewers from 
causing injury to the health 
of those who are exposed to 
their emission from gratings, 
or otherwise. In some cases 
surface gratings cannot be 
regarded as a solution of the 
problem even with upcast 
shafts, as the atmospheric 
conditions may at times be 
unfavourable to the removal 
of the foul air by means of 
the upcast. If the sewers 
have proper gradients and 
are self cleansing, the usual 
provision of gratings and 
upcast shafts will ensure the 
proper change of air; but 
there are many cases where 
the conditions do not exist, 
and it is well to record how to prevent sewer air, 
under such circumstances, from being a danger 
to health. One system which has been employed 
with success is called the Reeves system. 

This is based on the use of chemicals in 
the sewers, whereby the noxious gases are 
deprived of their injurious properties. Fig. 9 
will explain how this is effected. 

A ventilating apparatus has been brought out 
by Messrs. Stone & Company which deserves 
mention. Fig. 10 shows the apparatus in a 



,, I( U ready to IM- tixed in lh 


,, I( reay o - 

gases in which it i> desired t.. neutralise. 

11 ihoWl the apparatus fixed in the 
sewer ready for use. 

Construction of Sewers. In the cor 
rtrootion ..f briek wiran only well-burnt and 
welUhaped l.ri.-ks should be used, and they 
.hould be w.-ll soaked to prevent their absorbing 


water from the cement. The sewer invert should 
a smooth and hard surface to diminish 
friction and to prevent erosion. Blue Stafford- 
shire bricks, glazed' fireclay bricks, or hard 
I .locks well glazed on the surface are generally 
used for inverts. The bricks should be radiated 
to suit curves so that no more mortar is used 
than is necessary to make the joint. The mortar 
>h ukl be made of one part of best well-seasoned 
Portland cement to one of clean, sharp sand. 
Good hydraulic lime or blue lias lime is some- 
times used. The materials require great care in 
selecting, and the mortar should be used as soon 
as mixed. Brick sewers are sometimes built in 
sections in wooden moulds. 

Where the nature of the ground requires it, a 
I. rick sewer should be strengthened by encasing 
it partly or wholly with cement concrete, and 
if there are several rings of brickwork a " collar 
joint " of cement about 1 in. thick between each 
ring ensures the watertightness of the work. 
Tin- joints of brickwork should not be too thick, 
the faces being not more than J in. apart. The 
trowel should be passed over the mortar to 
increase it density. The work ought not to be 
.-\poM-d lo ,-ontact \\ iih \\atcr until it i- \\cll set. 
In very wet ground a subsoil drain should be 
placed under the trench to take away the water 
to the pumps, instead of its running at tin- 
bottom of the trench to the pumps. If the 
i be made where any settlement of buildings 
may occur great care should be taken to timber 
the trencho xu-H, am i ,. v ,. n to leave the bulk of 
the timlH-r in. in order to avoid the risk of 

Concrete Sewers. Some very good 

\e been made entirely of concrete 

Mini: .f ill part- of gravel and sand free 

;hy matter to one part of Portland 

lit. The invert of the sewer is first built. 

then concrete i> udl rammed behind a 

mould with a smooth surface formed of sheet 

'her material ;m( | the top of the 

' irned upon i.-ntr.-.-*. If the interior 


IK- well rendered with cement, a good sewer 
can be made, provided the best Avell-seasoned 
cement and perfectly good materials are em- 
ployed, otherwise concrete is liable to crack. 

Stoneware Pipe Sewers. Stoneware 
pipes can be used for seAvers up to 21 in. 
in diameter. Beyond that size sewers are 
generally made of brickwork, as the handling 
and jointing of pipes of large size results in their 
costing as much as brick sewers. Stoneware 
pipes should be made of good vitreous material 
having a clear ring when struck and having 
strength to stand shocks and strains. They 
should be well burnt at a high temperature with 
a salt glaze which permeates the body of the 
pipe and renders it impervious. They can be 
tested for impermeability by closing the lower 
end and filling the pipe with water. Any lowering 
of the water Avill disclose defects. By drying a 
pipe and weighing it, and putting it in water for 
a while and re-weighing it, a test of imper- 
meability can be made. 

The joints of ordinary stoneware pipes should 
be carefully made so as to be watertight. This 
requires the enforcement of certain well-knoAvn 
conditions. The bed has to be prepared on which 
to lay the pipes, with spaces taken out to receive 
the socket, so that the whole length of the barrel 
is supported. Where the ground is not thoroughly 
sound and solid, a bed of cement concrete about 
6 in. thick should be laid at the bottom of the 
trench, with similar spaces for the socket. This 
layer of concrete can be carried up after the 
jointing is finished, so as partly or wholly to 
encase the pipes, according to circumstances. 
After the end of one pipe has been placed in the 
socket of the other it should be butted home 
and tarred gaskin should be caulked up to the 

face. The joint 
is then com- 
pleted by filling 
the space with 
cement finished 
off neatly by a 
fillet outside. 
Either neat 
Portland ce- 
ment or half- 
clean sharp sand 
and half cement 
can be used, but 
not clay. A pro- 
perly made joint 
depends first on 
the pipes but- 
ting home, then 
on the gas-kin 
being caulked 
up to the face 
of the socket, 


and, lastly, on the ring of cement being of 
equal thickness all round. 

Special Joints for Stoneware Pipes. 

There arc means of Jointing stoneware pipes 
other than the ordinary way which has been 
described. The earliest departure was the Stan- 
ford joint. Avhich was formed by the contact of 
two eonieal surfaces cast outside the ends and 

inside the sockets of the pipes. The surfaces, 
when in contact, were relied on to make a water- 
tight joint, and were found of service where 
sewers had to be laid in ground with much 
water. Such joints require the sewer to be much 
supported, as any settlement draws the joint. 
Improvements have been made on this by casting 
the ends of the pipes with annular rings on both 
spigot and faucet. These can be filled with liquid 
cement poured in through holes in the top with- 
out risk of its being washed out 
or disturbed, as is the case with 
ordinary cement joints. The 
" Hassall " was the first joint 
based on this principle. 

There are many more recent 
arrangements which have been 
patented for making joints in 
stoneware pipes, and we shall 
refer to some of them. 

In making a tarred gaskin 
and cement joint in an ordinary 
stoneware pipe, dependence has 
to be placed in the barrel being 
kept in the right position by 
hand until the gaskin is rammed 
in at the bottom to ensure that 
the spigots and faucets of the 
pipes are in their right positions. 
If this is not done properly the 
space that has to be cemented 
may be greater at the top than 
at the bottom. The writer once 
inspected a long length of leaky 
stoneware sewer, where he 
found that the leaks were caused 
by the absence of any gaskin 
and cement at the bottom. 
Many forms of joints have been 
devised to prevent this, and 
some are shown from 12 to 28. 

Stanford Joint. Fig. 12 
is the Stanford joint, the spigot 
end of which is provided with 
an annular bituminous band, 
which fits truly into a similar 
band in the socket. These 
bands are greased over before 
the spigot end is driven home, 
thus forming a watertight joint. 
Fig. 14 shows another form of 
this joint, where the bands are 
only half the width, thus per- 
mitting the joint to be finished 
with a fillet of cement. 

SyKes Joint. The Sykes 
joint shown in 13 has been ex- 
tensively used by the writer. The spigots and 
sockets of the pipe are provided with bituminous 
rings which, when in position, form a groove 
into which liquid cement grout is poured. The 
illustration also shows a screw stopper for plug- 
ging temporarily the branches on the main 
sewer provided for house junctions. Another 
form of Sykes joint is shown in 19. 

The Spiralitic Joint. This is a recent 
form of joint [15] in which the spigot end of the 
pipe has a band of bituminous compound cast 


round it, having a groove in it of a spiral or screw 
shape. The socket [16] is lined with a similar 
band of material also having a spiral groove. 
The socket has two holes side by side, one 
connecting to each end of the groove. When 
the spigot end is pushed home the two 
grooves form a cavity into which liquid 
Portland cement is poured in at one hole until 
it appears at the other, which shows that 
the spiral cavity is filled. 


Other Pipe Joints. Parker's safety pipe 
joint is another form of joint for stoneware pipe 
sewers. Fig. 18 shows its construction. 

The Archer eccentric pipe joint, as shown in 
20, is in substitution for the old joint of the same 
patentee, which was abandoned some years ago. 

Brown's hydrotite joint is another arrange- 
ment, and is shown in 21 and 22. 

The Freeman-Hines joint [23 and 24] is a new 
form of joint, effecting rapidity of laying with 
watertightness. On to the spigots of the pipes 



and to the faucet- of the sockets an- east bitU- 

inimius eccentric bands, which, when brought 
ther and slightly twistc<l. form a small 


cavity which, after being rilled with bitumen, 
completes the joint. 

Wuketield's insertion pipe or junction, as 
shown in 27, is useful when the barrel of a 
sewer has to be broken in order to form a house 

H assail 's single lined joint is some- 
what similar to the Stanford joint, 
< vc | it that the sockets are much 
deeper. The spigot ends and sockets 
an- provided with narrow bands of 
Lit uminous compound. The spigot 
end, after being pushed home into 
>< ket, leaves a space which is 
tilled \\ith cement as shown in 26. 

HassaH's two-lined joint is shown 3^ SECOND 
in 28. ' * 

Cast-iron Sewers. In some 

cases it is found necessary to employ cast-iron 

i'-uare pipes for sewers. The 

usual method of jointing cast-iron pipes is that 

-In wn on page 4340. It is sometimes found more 

tiOQfl to use a turned and bored joint. 

Anm In i form of joint for cast-iron mains is 

ii in 25. and is the one generally used 

yphon- under rivers. The faces of the 

Hanges are usually maehined, the joint being 

ppmptotod by a rubber rinjr placed between 

the BMgM p..p. t ,.,,M lv tn th,.;,- i K .jng bolted 


Sewage Pumping. In laying out a 

sewerage .-y-tem. .-are should be taken to 

I unnecessary pumping if the level, in- 

volve the >eua*e |HM, IK lif t( . (l to r( . a( .,, th( . 

I In MMI the higher part of a 


district can discharge its sewage by a gravi- 
tation sewer, leaving only the lower part to 
be pumped, instead of bringing the sewage from 
the high district down to the low. 
The size of the " rising main," 
which conveys the pumped sew- 
age, should be calculated 
so that the velocity in it 
conforms to what has 
already been stated as necessary to 
prevent the deposition of solids. If 
the rising main pass over a summit, 
an automatic air-valve should be 
placed there to prevent an air lock. 
Fig. 32 shows one manufactured 
by Messrs Ham, Baker & Co. 

It is advisable to place a back- 
pressure or reflux valve [35] on 
the rising main near the pumping 
station. This prevents a rush of 
sewage taking place should a break- 
down occur at the pumps. 
If the district to be sewered be flat, and low- 
lying in reference to the outfall, it is often 
impossible to get the necessary gradients without 
laying the sewers in places at a considerable 
depth, and perhaps in waterlogged ground, 
involving heavy expense. 

Shone's Ejector. When sewage has to 
be raised at places where the establishment of a 
steam or other kind of pumping station might 
be undesirable, or would raise oppo- 

_A T^^ sition, the power necessary to lift 

~" the sewage at such points can be 
developed at any convenient spot 

*U| at a distance, transmitted to these 

30. FIRST points, and applied to suitable lift- 
TRAP m g machinery placed in chambers 
beneath the surface of the ground. 
One appliance that is much employed 
is Shone's ejector [29], of which the 
following is a description. 

This is an automatic arrangement 
by which compressed air is applied 
to the surface of the sewage, col- 
lected in an airtight receiver from 
32. AUTOMATIC an y number of low-level sewers. 
AIR-VALVE The pressure of air forces the low- 
level sewage from the receiver to 
a sewer at a higher level which conveys it to 
the outfall. 

The illustration [29] shows a recent installa- 
tion of this system consisting of two ejectors. 
E and E 1 , placed in a circular cast-iron chamber, 
constructed below the ground. These ejectors 


work alternately, being regulated by an ingenious 
arrangement of valves at P. The admission of 
compressed air, and also the exhaust air from 
the receivers, are controlled by automatic air 
valves V 1 and V 2 , actuated by floats, as 
shown by F 1 and F 2 in the ejector, E, attached 
to rods which are connected to weighted levers, 
W. This device is arranged so that when the 
receiver is empty, its floats assume their lowest 
positions. As the incoming sewage rises, and 
eventually sub- . ,p 

merges the top 
float, the equili- 
brium of the 
lever is dis- 
turbed by the 
floats rising, 
causing the 
weight, W, to 
drop, thus 
operating a slide 
valve which ad- 
mits the com- 
pressed air to 
the surface of 
the sewage, col- 
lected in, and 


1 " 

,5 fcj 



reservoir. He then proceeds to open the cocks 
R one after the other. As he does so the 
atmospheric air rushes through the soil pipes, 
or air inlet, causing strong pressure to be 
exercised in the matter in the receptacle R, and 
forcing the same into the street sewers and the 
reservoirs. After that, cocks R are closed again 
and tap A is opened, this making the communica- 
tion with the main sewer (under vacuum), 
opening at the same time an air inlet over the 
reservoir, by which means the whole of the 
sewage collected in the district reservoir js 
sent to the main station. The operation being 
terminated, tap A is closed and taps R again 
opened, and ordinary conditions restored. The 
operation takes ten minutes. 

The maintenance of the seals of the house 
traps is effected 
as follows. 
The first trap 

filling the receiver. The contents of the receiver 
are then rapidly removed and discharged into 
the high-level sewer. The floats, falling with the 
sewage, cut off the compressed air supply, and 
also open an exhaust valve, which releases the 
expended air in the receiver. 

The Liernur System. The removal 
of the fluid refuse from houses by this system 
is effected by pneumatic agency. It was 
adopted many "years ago at Amsterdam, where 
the writer saw it in operation with the late 
Captain Liernur. The system has been more 
recently successfully adopted at Trouville in 
France, Leyden in Holland, and at Stansted 
in Essex. The sewers have to be, 
of course, airtight, and are of iron. 

Where a sewer receives solid 
matters which may deposit, as is the 
case especially in Oriental cities, 
where the underground conduits 
connecting with the sewers receive 
much coarse material, it is claimed 
that the Liernur system meets the 

Fig. 33 is a diagram of a district 
reservoir into which the sewage from the area 
which it serves is discharged by this system. 

Ea,ch district reservoir is constantly in con- 
nection with the vacuum pipe, in which a 
vacuum of not more than half an atmosphere is 
constantly maintained by the engines at the 
pumping station ; and, in order that everything 
may be entirely removed from the district pipes 
and the house receptacles, these are put once a 
day into communication with the district 
reservoirs, with which they are connected. This 
is done by a man first proceeding to close the 
cocks R and opening the cocks M, thus establish- 
ing the communications with the vacuum pipe, 
which is always under depression, and the 

the house liquid 
first passes 
is formed as. 
shown in 30. 
A is the inlet, 
the outlet. 
W h en the 
vacuum is 
brought into 

action the contents will be reduced to a level 
slightly above that of the line X Y, as shown, 
because the air will force itself through a small 
depth of water seal, and the water always 
remains above the level X Y. 

The second trap is formed as shown in 31, 
being simply an enlargement of the soil pipe. 
During the action of the vacuum the fluid 
passes in the direction of the arrows, but the 
concentric ring of liquid between the dotted 
lines and the periphery of the trap is not drawn 
off, and hence remains to fall back 
after the pneumatic action is over, 
and to form a new seal. 

Adams Sewage Lift. By 
this system, sewage in a sewer at a 
high level is utilised to lift sewage 
from a low level automatically, and 
thus save pumping. Figs. 34 and 
35 show the working of the system. 
The sewage lift is actuated by air 
compressed by a column of sewage, 
the only moving parts required being the inlet 
flap valves. The distance between the air and 
forcing cylinders is immaterial. In all cases the 
sewage to be raised gravitates to the " forcing 
cylinder," A, entering it through a non-return 
flap valve. Liquid is fed to a flush tank, B, 
in the air chamber and discharged through its 
pressure pipe, P, to the air cylinder, C, displacing 
the air therein, which passes by an air-pipe, D, 
to the forcing cylinder, A, exerting there its 
pressure upon the sewage to be raised, the latter 
being discharged through the rising main, E, into 
the intercepting sewer The air cylinder, C, 
when full, is emptied into the intercepting sewer 
by means of a syphon, F. 




Group 14 



Varieties of Iron : Cast Iron, Malleable Cast Iron, Wrought 
Iron and Steel. Iron Ores and their Composition 


1 RON is by far the most useful and the most 
* used of all metals hi virtue of its special 
properties, especially its great strength, its 
abundance in the earth, and its low price. 

Varieties of Iron. It occurs commercially 
in different forms, and, with the aid of foreign 
bodies, possesses widely different qualities. In 
one case it is easily melted and cast, very 
brittle when solid, and cannot be forged. In 
another case it is soft at a white heat, easily 
forged and welded, offers considerable resistance 
to sudden shock, is almost infusible, and retains 
oftnews after sudden quenching in water. 
In yet another case it is malleable, highly 
tenacious, and can be made intensely hard by 
sudden quenching in water. These widely 
divergent properties enable it to be employed in 
a greater variety of circumstances than any 
other metal. Up to about 50 years ago only 
three kinds of iron were recognised cast iron, 
steel, and wrought iron but at present a 
greater number of different kinds are manu- 
factured, varying in properties with the nature 
of the foreign elements they contain, which 
really convert the pure iron into an alloy. Of 
theM- foreign l>odie< by far the most influential 
is carbon. 

All kinds of iron may be classified under two 
chief head- : 

MALLE \BI.K: Wrought iron and ingot iron; 
wrought steel and ingot steel. 

NON -MALLEABLE: Pig or cast iron. 

Tin- difference lct ween iron and steel is marked 
by the hardening or non-hardening properties. 
In wrought metal the structure is obtained by 
mi' al treatment at a welding temperature. 
In hum! metal the product is cast into moulds 
from the liquid condit. ,n. Ingot iron, in conse- 
quence of it-> non-hardening property, is also 
termed " mild steel." 

Pig or Cast Iron. Pig iron is obtained 

nelt ing iron ore with charcoal, coke, or raw 

MM! in ,i lila>t furnace. Two chief varieties are 

[pendent upon the furnace conditions 

nature of the charge, termed grey and white 

Grey Pig Iron. Crt-y pig iron consi-t- 

MMmtiiilly ,,t iron. (ail. on and silicon, but other 

'''' ln phosphorus, manganese, and 

-ulphur an- frequently present . The carbon 

generally \aric> I, -t ween _' per cent, and 4 per 

thcMlieon froin 1 per cent, to 3 per 

iliar character of grey iron is due 

to the mode ,,f oeeuiTcnce of the carbon, which 

i- influenced l,y the amount of silicon present 


and the rate of cooling. Silicon tends to cause 
the carbon to crystallise out in the form of 
graphite. By very slow cooling these crystals 
become very large, and by quicker cooling, very 
small. Grey iron is, therefore, not one uniform 
mass like white iron, but it contains different 
bodies mixed together, the size of the grain 
largely determining the strength. With large 
flakes of graphite the iron approximates nearer 
in strength and malleability to wrought iron. 
Grey iron requires a higher temperature to melt 
it than white iron, becomes thinly liquid when 
melted, and expands when solidifying, which 
admirably adapts it to castings. It is also 
produced at a higher temperature in the blast 
furnace than white iron, which tends to make it 
more impure. 

White Pig Iron. White pig iron contains 
its carbon chiefly in the combined form, is freer 
from silicon, and often contains more manganese 
than grey iron. It is a true alloy of iron with 
carbon, phosphorus, manganese, etc. It is 
intensely hard and very brittle. With much 
manganese, from 5 per cent, to 20 per cent., it 
is composed of large crystalline plates and 
termed sptegel-eisen. When the manganese 
content considerably exceeds 20 per cent., the 
crystals are much smaller, and the alloy is termed 
ferro-manganese. White iron is produced when 
the furnace is charged with a heavy burden of 
slags mixed with ore, and is then termed 
cinder pig, as distinguished from iron pro- 
duced entirely from ore. White iron is also 
produced from easily reducible ores, which 
require less fuel than ones reducible with greater 

Mottled Iron. Mottled iron is intermediate 
between grey and white iron, and partakes of the 
properties of both. When broken, it shows a 
veined or mottled appearance. Pig iron is 
arranged into a variety of classes according to 
the colour, texture, size of the crystalline plates, 
and general character of the fractured surface. 
It is graded in numbers from 1 to 8, or more 
commonly from 1 to 4, for foundry purposes, and 
number 4 forge, mottled and white. No. 1 is the 
greyest and the richest in silicon. Passing from 
No. 1 to white iron the combined carbon 
gradually increases and the silicon diminishes. 

The term cast iron is used to express the 
metal obtained by remelting pig iron and casting 
it into moulds of various kinds in the foundry. 
The greyer varieties of pig iron are termed 
foundry pigs and the others forge pigs, the 
latter being US ed chiefly for the production of 
wrought iron. 

German Cast Iron. In Germany 
following kinds are produced : 





White Iron Proper. 




30 to 80 per cent, 

5 to 20 
per cant, 

1 to 5 

p?r cent, 

Less than 
1 percent, 



Half pig. Deep grey. 

Silicon iron 

to 3 per cent. to 5 per cant, 
manganese manganese 
0-5 to 15 per cent. 2 to 4 per cent, 
silicon si'icon 

5 to 17 per cent. 
si ; icon 

Malleable Cast Iron. When cast iron 
articles, produced from high class white iron, 
are embedded in powdered haematite, packed 
in iron cases, and heated to a cherry red heat 
for a few days, they become malleable, and are 
said to be annealed. By this action the combined 
carbon is set free, and some of the carbon is 
burnt off from the surface, which renders the 
cast wares malleable. 

Wrought Iron. Wrought or malleable 
iron is a mixture of iron and slag, drawn out 
into fibres by mechanical treatment at welding 
temperatures. There i, however, this difference, 
that the iron is crystalline and the slag amor- 
phous. Wrought iron is not pure, but contains, 
in addition to the slag, those elements in a smaller 
degree which are present in the pig iron. It 
possesses the welding property in a high degree. 
Its specific gravity is 7 '8, and its melting point 
about 1,600 C. 

Steel. This is a malleable and tough alloy 
of iron and carbon, the latter not exceeding 
2 per cent., and generally less than T6 per cent. 
In special steels, elements such as manganese, 
nickel, tungsten, chromium, etc., are added in 
various amounts. When the carbon it; less than 
0'3 per cent, it is termed mild steel, and cannot 
be materially hardened by sudden quenching. 
1 is finely crystalline in structure, and the 
er the percentage of carbon the smaller 
.he grain. The carbon exists chiefly in com- 
ination, forming the compound Fe ;j C. Steel 
as a bluish-white colour, is generally destitute 
of fibre, except in wrought steel, and possesses 
great strength and tenacity. It can be made 
intensely hard by sudden quenching and again 
softened by slow cooling from a red heat. By 
cautiously re-heating hardened steel to 200 
or 300 C. the tension is released, the metal loses 
its brittleness, and its intense hardness is modified. 
This is termed tempering. Hardened steel is 
capable of retaining its magnetism after being 
once magnetised, especially the variety known as 
tungsten steel. 

The Early History of Iron. We can 
only conjecture when iron was first extracted 
from its ores and applied to the use of man. 
The most ancient samples have been obtained 


from Egypt and Assyria, some of them assumed 
to be 4,000 years old. When the Roman 
Empire was extended, the use of iron became 
widely known. Pliny mentions the hardening 
of steel by quenching in water and in oil. For 
centuries before the Christian era, iron was 
produced, and what is now known as Styrian 
and None iron was famed for its high quality. 
The ancient Britons were acquainted with the 
use and probably the extraction of iron, and 
during the Roman occupation the manufacture 
was enormously increased in the country. 

In all ancient processes the iron was obtained 
from the ore in one operation. This is known 
as the direct method, and is the one still employed 
in some parts of India, China, Africa, South 
America, and, to a limited extent, in Europe. 
The furnace is a simple open hearth or small 
blast furnace. The fuel used is charcoal, and 
the blast is obtained by rude blowers or bellows. 
In the fourteenth century cast iron began to 
be obtained in small blast furnaces. All ancient 
iron furnaces were heated with charcoal. The 
increase of iron smelting in this country produced 
a scarcity of charcoal, which directed attention 
towards the use of coal and coke. Dudley, 
in 1619, produced pig iron from ore smelted 
with coke. This led to a practically new 
industry, that of coke making, which has been 
associated with that of iron smelting ever since. 
The invention of the steam engine led to the 
use of blowing cylinders for the production of 
the blast, which was obtained at high pressure 
and greatly increased the yield of iron. 

Improved Processes of Refining Iron. 
In 1784 a great improvement in the method of 
refining pig iron was made by Henry Cort. 
Before that time iron was purified in small 
hearths with a great expenditure of fuel, but 
Cort's introduction of the reveiberatory puddling 
furnace lessened the fuel consumption and 
enabled coal to be used instead of charcoal. 

Another marked advance was made by 
Neilson, in 1828, by the substitution of hot for 
cold blast. This was soon followed by closing 
the top of the blast furnace, so as to collect the 
waste gases and utilise them for heating the 

In 1840, Huntsman greatly improved the 
manufacture of crucible steel. In 1855, the 
great inventions of Bessemer were given to the 
world, and in 1861. Siemens invented his re- 
generative furnace. In 1878, the introduction 
of the basic process of steel-making was made 
by Thomas and Gilchrist, and is now employed 
in the Bessemer and Open Hearth methods. 

In recent years the development of the 
blast furnaces has resulted in increased height 
and capacity, greater facilities for charging, 
discharging, casting, and dealing with the pig 
iron obtained. In steel-making the great 
feature has been the invention of new types of 
open hearth furnaces, and in methods of treat- 
ing, working, and using them. 

Great improvements have been made in 
machinery, chiefly electrical, rather than in 
processes. The tilting furnaces of Campbell 
and Wellman for continuous practice, and the 



aul-Theil duplex method of working are 
the most prominent. Many kinds of special 
steels have boon ivo-ntly introduced, which 
rcquir- special treatment, and these have 
revoluti.mised mr -hine simp practice. 

Ores of Iron. Iron occurs in Nature in 
small quantities in the m.-tallie state as meteor- 
hut the oxides and carbonates form the 
chief source of the metal. 

Magnetite is a black oxide of iron, Fe^O 4 , 
and possesses magnetic properties. It contains, 
wh.'ii I'inv, 7-J-4 per cent, of iron. A1 Jnough 
occurring in various parts of the world the 
chief supply is obtained from Sweden and 
North America. From this ore the celebrated 
Swedish iron is obtained. 

Haematite, is the red oxide, Fe.,O 3 , and contains, 
uhen pure, 70 per cent, of iron. It occurs in 
a variety of forms as specular, micaceous, 
kidney, 'ochre and massive hematite. The 
most 'important deposits in this country are in 

Brovcn hcematite, or limonite, is of a brown 
or yellow colour, and consists of Fe0 8 with 
combined water. It may be typically repre- 
sented by the formula 2Fe. 2 O ;} 3H 2 0. It is 
abundant in the English Midlands and various 
parts of the world. 

Xjxtthic ore, chalybite, or siderite is a carbonate 
of iron, FeC0 3 , containing, when pure, 48 per 
of iron. It is abundant in the Midlands, 
South- West and Northern counties. It occurs 
in enormous masses in Scandinavia, Central 
Europe, and North America. Clay ironstone 
and Black band are varieties of this ore. 

Iron pyrites, FeS.,, although it is very 
abundant, is not suitable for smelting on 
account of the sulphur which it contains. 

heated in air or oxygen the surface becomes coated 
with the black oxide, Fe 3 O 4 . Iron is readily 
attacked by hydrochloric or dilute sulphuric 
acid, hydrogen 'being given off and chloride or 
sulphate of iron formed. If concentrated 
sulphuric acid be employed the metal is oxidised 
at the expense of the acid and sulphur-dioxide 
is evolved. Ordinary nitric acid attacks iron 
vigorously ; but if *the acid be concentrated 
the iron becomes passive. 

There are three oxides of iron of metallur- 
gical importance ferrous oxide (FeO), ferric 
oxide (Fe.,0 3 ), and magnetic oxide (Fe ;5 4 ). Fer- 
rous oxide is very unstable and rapidly oxidises 
in air ; it unites with acids to form iron salts 
and is the principal base in all slags formsd 
in the refining of crude iron. In combination 
with carbon-dioxide it forms spathic ores. 
Ferric oxide occurs native. It is a fairly staple 
compound, but at a white heat it gives up 
oxygen, forming Fe 3 4 . The magnetic oxide 
is the richest ore of iron ; it is. produced when 
iron is strongly heated in air, oxygen, or super- 
heated steam, and is used as a protective coating 
from further oxidation of iron goods. The 
influence of silicon, phosphorus, sulphur, carbon, 
etc., is dealt with elsewhere. 

Production of Pig or Cast Iron. Most 
iron ores are first calcined in heaps, stalls, or kilns, 
with the addition of a little fuel. The object of 
this is to remove water, sulphur, carbon, dioxide, 
and other volatile matter, to convert ferrous into 
ferric oxide, and to render the ore more porous 
and more readily susceptible to the action of the 
reducing agents in the blast furnace. 

The calcined ore is put into the blast furnace 
with coal, coke, or charcoal, and a flux, which is 
generally limestone. About four tons of material 




New South 

North. iiip- 





\ 1 1 ) K 






FKKKIC <>\n 















All MINA . . 

















<IA . . 







SIM, v 









ruui.iN M 1x11.1: 






(HI. \. II, 








Si -1.1-111 K 









1' M \TTKK 


Chemistry of Iron. Pure iron may be 
pnidur. -.1 in two ways: 

1. Ky mini -ing pure ferric oxide by hydrogen 

in pom-lain tube at 700 C., when it is 

obtained as a dark powder. If the jvdm-tion 

much higher temperature a 

U mass is obtained. 

.'. By the i-l.-,-tr. lysis of a solution of pure 

hlnride or sulphate. 

D is unaltered in dry air. but in the presence 

Ufa, forming a hydrated oxide. 

I'-rated by the 

nie acid. Wlu'ii it is strongly 


will produce one ton of iron. Air is forced in at 
the bottom and rises towards the top ; it thus 
encounters the solid materials which are descend- 
in?, and by acting upon them, liberates the iron. 
The oxygen of the air combines with the carbon, 
and produces the necessary heat. The carbon 
and the carbon compounds formed reduce the 
iron oxide. The flux unites with the gangue 
of the ore, and forms slag. Thus we have the 
heat-producing action, the reducing action, and 
the slag -forming action. 

Necessary Conditions in Iron Re= 
duction . In order completely to reduce oxide 

of iron, we must have a high temperature and 
contact with a deoxidising substance, such as 
carbon, carbonic oxide, etc. The reduction of 
oxide iron by carbon yields carbonic oxide, in 
which form it escapes, but the reduction by 
carbonic oxide yields carbon dioxide. These 
reductions may be expressed by the following 
equations : 

Fe.,0 3 +30= 2Fe + 3CO ; 
Fe. 2 6. 5 + SCO = 2Fe + 3C0. 2 

Under the strongly reducing conditions re- 
quired for the reduction of oxide of iron, elements 
other than iron are also reduced, such as phos- 
phorus, sulphur, silicon, manganese, etc., and 
these combine with the iron. The fuel also con- 
tains sulphur, and sometimes phosphorus, and 
these contribute impurities to the iron. By con- 
tact with incandescent carbon also iron absorbs 
some carbon. 

" Direct " Methods. Similar reactions 
take place when primitive or direct methods are 
used, but these are now employed only to a 
limited extent. In these furnaces a relatively 
low temperature and a short contact of the iron 
with the carbon prevents a little of the latter 
from uniting with the iron, and by the oxidising 
action of the blast the combined carbon is 
largely removed, and a pasty mass of metal, 
termed the bloom, is ootained and hammered 
into a malleable mass of wrought iron. By 
keeping the bloom longer in contact with incan- 
descent carbon, a steel or steely iron is obtained. 
Such a method is termed direct, because iron is 
produced in one operation instead of in two, as 
in the blast furnace method, where pig iron is 
first produced, and then refined in the puddling 

Direct methods can be applied only to very 
rich ores with little gangue, and charcoal is 
necessary as fuel. In addition to this, the labour 
is very great, and the loss of iron in the slag 
considerable. These conditions have led almost 
to the abandonment of the process. In order 
to prevent waste of iron, limestone is necessary as 
a flux, which forms a slag with silica ; but this 
requires for its formation a high temperature, 

!such as that of the blast furnace. 
Molten Iron. It has been mentioned that 
the conditions in the blast furnace are favour- 
able to the absorption of carbon by the iron, 
and the pig iron obtained contains 3 to 4 per 
cent. This, having a lower melting point than 
malleable iron, becomes perfectly liquid at the 
temperature of the furnace, and on account of its 
specific gravity falls to the bottom. The slag 
also is melted, and floats on the top of the iron, 
the gaseous products escaping at the top. In a 
general way the reactions may be expressed 
thus : 
2Fe.,0, + SiO. 2 + CaO + 3C = 4Fe + CaOSiO., 

+ 3CO, 

But the reactions are not nearly so simple as 
this. Carbonic oxide plays an important role ; 
the gangue of the ore contains alumina, magnesia, 
oxide of manganese, phosphoric acid, etc., so 
that the slag is a complex silicate. The escaping 
gases contain also nitrogen, carbonic oxide, 
hydrogen, and other volatile matters. It will be 


understood, then, that temperature is an im- 
portant factor in determining the character of 
the reduced iron. 

It is possible in the blast furnace to treat 
much poorer ores than in the forge furnace ; the 
slag is almost free from iron, and the manual 
labour much less. Since pig iron is aimed at, 
coal and coke can be used instead of charcoal as 
fuel. In the forge furnace, also, 3 or 4 tons of 
charcoal are required for the production of 1 ton 
of malleable iron, while in the blast furnace 1 ton 
of pig iron can be produced with 1 ton of coke. 
It is true that pig iron has to be refined, but the 
combined cost of reduction and refining is much 
less than a single operation in the forge furnace. 

Principles of Blast Furnace Practice. 
The aim is to secure regularity of working and 
fuel economy with maximum output. The ore 
should be of uniform quality, or a uniform 
mixture of different ores should be used, with 
a suitable flux to produce the quality and 
composition of slag best suited to the process 
of smelting. Neither a very lean ore nor a very 
rich mixture of ores yields the best results. 
The more refractory the ore, the more finely 
should it be crushed, so as to be readily reducible. 
Two dangers present themselves here. A very 
fine ore offers great resistance to the ascending 
gases, and a greater quantity is carried into the 
flue as dust ; therefore increased blast furnace 
pressure is necessary. It is important that .the 
sizing, or separating of the ore, according to 
relative coarseness, should be carefully con- 
sidered, and the charging of very fine and coarse 
ores together should be avoided if possible. The 
best plan is to separate it into two or three 
different sizes, and either smelt separately or 
smelt the coarser ones together. The fine ones 
can be best used after making into briquettes 
or agglutinating in some convenient way. If 
coarse and fine ores are smelted together they 
should be charged in in separate strata, and a 
strong blast used. 

The Flux. What has been said of the 
ores applies in a great measure to the flux. It 
should be broken into pieces of uniform size 
and all dust avoided. The slag performs a 
twofold function physical and chemical. 
Physically, it acts as a filter, purifying the 
globules of reduced iron as they pass through ; 
and as a shield, protecting the metal from 
oxidation by the blast. Chemically, it absorbs 
sulphur, and assists in regulating the silicon 
content in the iron. The proper composition of 
the slag is very important. Alumina should be 
as low as possible, as, although it does not reduce 
the fusibility, it reduces the fluidity, w T hich 
is a vital point in the blast furnace. A good 
slag should retain the solid form up to the 
melting point, and then become quite liquid, 
and not pass through a stage which causes 
sticking and hanging, and has a tendency to 
retain globules of iron. 

Fuel. The fuel for the blast furnace may be 
raw coal, coke, anthracite, or charcoal. Of these 
the raw coal is seldom used alone anthracite is 
generally too dear, and charcoal too expensive 
and too scarce. Coke is the best possible fuel for 



molernblaM fanMUM. The I'"' 1 - il *hould b 6 

,,.. m i,,. r ,. 1. performs a phy>ical and a chemical 

I'hv-ieiiUy. it preserves an open passage for 

ling gases, and for this reason should be 

h :ir d. M| uniform in si/e. Fine dust or 

, is very objectionable, jix it blows over with 

ihe -as. rhemically. the fuel generates the 

\ lemi-oombartkm with oxygen, 

and the carbonic oxide formed is a necessary 

.:ent for the reduction of the oxide of 

Ooke >hould be highly porous, so as to 

otfer the maximum surface to the oxygen of 

th- bla<t. The mo.t objectionable impurity in 

coke is sulphur, and phosphorus for special irons. 

The composit ion of t he ash is almost as important 

as its quantity. The alumina should be low 

and the silica high. 

Blast. The blast should be regular in 
quantitv. and. as far as possible, constant in 
volume! A regular temperature is very 
important, since every 100 degrees of heat 
added is equal to 3 per cent, of the carbon 
burned at the twyers. Temperatures corre- 
sponding to a red heat are constantly used for 
h -at ing the blast, but beyond this limit it is 
not advisable to go, although theoretically the 
limit is not reached until the fuel reduces 
the quantity of carbonic oxide to just that 
quantity required to reduce the ore. The 
introduction of the hot blast regenerative stove 
nabled higher temperatures to be obtained, 
but it is subject to greater variability of 
temperature than the old pipe stove. The loss 
of temperature in an hour's blowing is from 
200 C. to 300 C., and this is equivalent to an 
increase of 7i per cent, of fuel burned in the 
hearth. This may be largely avoided by washing 
the gases and using larger or more numerous 
stoves. For noting uniformity of temperature 
a pyrometer is necessary, and an autographic 
d will show the temperature each minute if 

The composition of the blast varies with the 
humidity of the atmosphere, and, as one pound 
of moist uiv iv.,uircs 1 -3 Ib. of carbon to be burned 
at the twyers to replace the heat absorbed by the 
m position of this water, an enormous amount 
of heat is thus I,, st. This consideration has 
induced ironmasters to use desiccating plants 
for removing the moisture from the blast. 

The Charge. The temperature and con- 
lit ion of the charge varies in different parts 
tumace. In the top portion 
re wurmod, and the oxide 
iron j. partially reduced. Lower down, 
'"" flux is calcined, forming lime 
n dioxide at a red heat. A little 
I". Ii dioxide oxidises. 

'' "t '!'" fuel forming carbonic oxide 
nd the reduced iron 

-ik.-s up earbon. This action is continued in 

tl '" ' " ""Hi also the oxides of silicon 

' h " n '-- etc., are reduced, and the silicon 

'I phocpboroi unite with the iron. In the 

"'i'"i the furnace is at an intense 

heat, th.- carburised impure iron is melted, 

Jf *' - ;;II(| ""'1 f"ll into the hearth' 

bomc OXM|.; cannot completely reduce oxide 


of iron, so that other reducing agents are necessary, 
chiefly carbon. The reduction of oxide of iron 
takes place at comparatively low temperatures 
in the upper part of the furnace. In the middle 
portion the iron-reducing tendency is about 
balanced by the iron-oxidising tendency, while 
the carbon -depositing tendency is equalled by 
the carbon-oxidising tendency. In the lower 
portion the iron is reduced by carbon and car- 
bonaceous bodies, such as potassium cyanide. 

Changes. The changes occurring in cold- 
blast charcoal furnaces are somewhat different 
from those for hot-blast coke furnaces, for the 
charge will pass a considerable distance down the 
furnace before reduction begins. The ore appears 
to pass from ferric to magnetic oxide, then to 
ferrous oxide, before being reduced to the metallic 
state, so that, while in the coke furnace reduction 
takes place in the upper part by the action of 
carbonic oxide, the reduction in a charcoal 
furnace takes place in the middle of the furnace 
at a comparatively high temperature. 

One of the most important factors in the 
proper working of a blast furnace is th.3 suit- 
able distribution of the charge, and this has 
been emphasised since the introduction of 
automatic charging apparatus. The tendency 
of the skip hoist to distribute coarse or fine 
ore unequally is a defect not yet overcome. The 
ideal charging apparatus should be under con- 
trol so that the material may be distributed 
evenly over the entire area of the blast furnace. 
The cup and cone system falls far short as a 
distributor because of its narrow limitations 
and its inflexibility. 

Waste Gases. The blast furnace gases are 
important factors in smelting, both inside and 
outside the furnace. Inside, they distribute the 
heat and reduce the ores to the metallic form, 
and the proper performance of their functions is 
determined by analysis. The gas temperature 
is also a valuable guide. A hot top indicates 
insufficient heat at the bottom, with the con- 
sequent production of inferior iron and bad 
slag. The waste gases from a blast furnace 
consist of carbonic oxide, carbon dioxide, and 
nitrogen, with small quantities of hydrogen and 
hydrocarbons. With furnaces using raw coal 
the gas is richest in hydrogen and hydrocarbons. 
In coke furnaces the volume of carbonic oxide 
is double that of carbon dioxide, and in char- 
coal furnaces the greater volume of carbon 
dioxide is found. 

Waste gases have been chiefly used for heating 
boilers and hot-blast stoves. In some ' cases 
they are used for heating kilns, ovens, and general 
heating appliances. Blast furnace gases, after 
purifying, are now used for driving gas engines, 
and in this direction great economy may be 
effected in the production of cheap electricity 
for furnaces. The cleaning of the gases for engine 
work is indispensable. Cleaning should take 
place 1 in three stages a preliminary dry cleaning ; 
a wet cleaning for use in stoves, boilers, kilns, 
and furnaces ; and a special cleaning for power 
purposes by means of fans. Fewer and smaller 
stoves, less heating surface for boiler plant, 
diminished consumption of gas, less cleaning and 

repairing will result from proper cleaning of the 

Slags. Blast furnace slags differ in colour 
and appearance according to the charge and the 
working conditions of the furnace. With excess 
of lime, the slag is white and fusible with diffi- 
culty. With a moderate amount of lime, the slag 
is grey, hard, and compact. When the furnace 
is making white iron the slag is dark in colour 
and very fluid, which makes it very corrosive on 
the furnace lining. It often contains much 
oxide of iron, and is termed a scouring slag. The 
slag is tapped from the furnace into bogies 
running on rails, and forms a mould of a 
truncated conical shape. In some works it is 
run through a bronze twyer on to a trough, and 
thence to small pans fixed on an endless chain 
which, by its revolution, delivers the slag into 
trucks. In some cases the slag is removed at 
intervals in side-tipping ladles. 

The harder kinds of blast furnace slag, it not 
too glassy, are used for mending roads, for levelling 
waste lands, for -building breakwaters, and for 
ballast. In the form of large blocks slag is 
used for road-making. It is used also for 
building purposes when suitable. For this 
intention it is moulded into bricks, which are 
kept at a strong heat for several hours in a closed 
space, in order to devitrify them and make them 
harder. Good bricks are made of granulated 
slag and lime. If not too acid, slag may be 
burnt in a state of powder with lime and yields 
a good hydraulic cement. The following are 
analyses of slags used for this purpose : 


blast. With some ores, cindeis, etc., the con- 
sumption of coke reaches 30 cwt. per ton of 
iron. Approximately, 54 per cent, of the total 
heat is carried away in the waste gases, 6 per 
cent, in the slag, 3 per cent, in the iron, 6 per 
cent, in the water used, and 7 per cent, by 
radiation and conduction. 

The modern blast furnace is an elongated 
barrel-shaped structure in interior vertical 
section, and generally circular in cross section. 
The height varies from 75 to 95 ft., the greatest 
width from 25 to 30 ft., and the maximum 
capacity of 50,000 cubic ft. 

The body is formed of wrought-iron plates, 
half an inch thick, and riveted together. Within 
this is built the outer casing of ordinary masonry, 
the inside being lined with firebrick, about 18 in. 
thick, while in some cases between the two 
layers of brickwork is a small space filled with 
sand to allow for expansion and contraction. 
The body, or stack, is supported on a cast-iron 
ring, resting on pillars of the same material, and 
the lower part, from the top of the columns 
to the hearth, is also cased with iron and in some 
cases with water blocks. The hearth is indepen- 
dent of the masonry of the stack, and is built 
in after the stack is completed. It requires to 
be made of very refractory material of consider- 
able thickness, having to withstand a very great 
heat in addition to the corrosive action of the 
molten slags. 

The hearth is perforated with six to eight 
holes for the introduction of the twyers, which 
convey the blast of air into the furnace. On the 
front or the work- 







LIME.. .. 

SILICA - - . . 




















Slag wool is made from blast furnace slag by 
blowing steam on to a thin stream of the slag 
in such a way that the steam encounters only 
half the stream. It is light and fireproof, and 
used for covering steam-pipes, etc. 

The Blast Furnace. An English blast 
furnace of the old type was a massive stonework 
structure, circular in cross section, and the shaft 
approached in sectional elevation to that of 
two truncated cones joined at their bases. The 
lower cone was continued to the ground level 
or enlarged, forming the hearth, three sides being 
continued to the bottom, and the other left 
open for access. The interior was lined with 
firebricks. The dimensions varied from 9 to 10 ft. 
in diameter, and from 30 to 45 ft. high. 

The blast furnace of to-day, compared with 
that of a century ago, is an efficient machine. 
Then, the consumption of fuel per ton of iron 
was often 10 tons ; now, it is often less than 
19 cwt. of coke. This has been mainly effected 
by the introduction of the hot blast and the 
utilisation of the waste gases for heating the 

ing side the hearth 
was formerly ex- 
tended, forming a 
rectangular cavity 
known as the fore- 
hearth, which was 
bounded in front 
by a very refractory 
stone, termed the 
damstone. The arch 
covering this was called the tymp-arch. The 
tymp was made either of a very refractory stone 
or of a hollow cast-iron box built in the masonry, 
and through this box a current of water con- 
stantly circulated to keep it cool. 

Fig. 32 represents a modern American blast 
furnace. It is about 85 ft. high, 23 ft. wide at 
its greatest diameter, and of 11 ft. diameter in 
the hearth. The hearth is protected by water- 
cooled plates, and in the boshes are eight rows of 
bronze cooling plates, eight plates forming the 
circle, each plate having two watercourses. 
Cast-iron cooling plates are also placed between 
the twyers, the number of the latter being seven, 
each 6 in. in diameter. The cubical capacity 
is about 20,000 cubic ft. The charging bell 
is 12 ft. and the throat 15| ft. in diameter. The 
volume of air blown in is 24,000 cubic ft. per 
minute. The temperature of the blast is 650 C., 
and the average pressure 8 Ib. per square in. 
For flux 10 cwt. of limestone are required per 
ton of iron produced, and this amount is produced 
with 17 cwt. of coke. The output is about 2,000 



tons i>-r wok. Th- f.-llouim: oomparwon be- 
fcweeo A tvpi.Ml Knirlish and typical American 
(urn-- will show thr different conditions in 



Cubical contents 

25,500 ft. 

18,200 ft. 

Te nip. ratlin- of the blast. 
r ton of ore . 

7i'4 C. 
19-99 cut. 

16-80 cut. 

Weight of blast per ton . t 

87-ir, .. 


of pwes 
Temperature of gpMi 

Tons ,,f iron for l.nnn 

119-50 .. 
250 0. 


171 C. 

<-uliic ft. space of fur- 
per week 
r ton of iron . . 
B produced per ton 
of iron 


28-00 cut. 


10-70 cwt. 


It will be observed by the above figures tha* 
the English furnace has much the greater 
capacity, the temperature of the blast is higher, 
and the calories of heat per ton of iron are more, 
therefore the fuel used per ton of ore is greater, 
the blast is hotter, the waste gases escape at 
a much higher temperature, the flux required 
and the slag produced are greater. The great 
reducing energy of the American 
furnace, with its high grade ore and 
r.-.] .id working, yields six times as 
much iron per cubic foot of space as 
tin Knglish furnace. 

Pig Bed. This consists of a sand 
bed with a number of parallel grooves 
of a semi-cylindrical section, generally 
with their long axes towards the 
tap-hole, while the top ends of these 
furrows in each row are connected 
with a common channel running at 
ri'.'ht angles to them, and known as 
tin- sow, or feeder. These feeders 
themselves are put in connection with 
th- main channel leading from the 
tap-hole. In some works the mould- 
ing is done by mechanical means, so 
that the pigs are of uniform size at 
equal distance* apart, and are cast 
.11 ps of 30 or more. When cold, 
an overhead crane picks up each 
group and carries it to the pig 
breakers. Pig-iron casting machines are of 
vftri as, but have not yet come into 

general use. 

Form and Dimensions of Blast 

Furnace. The hori/.ontul section of the hearth 

varies with tin- }> ..t' the I .last and the 

f tli-- mat'-ri:.^ employed. The 

the fnrn.icf must lie (united when the 

fuel is fri.Uile (such as i'nthr.i-itc) or the ore 

for if too compact thr .r.iMs cannot cir- 

i'-rly. MOICOV.T. in a mass of different 

inline .irradually, the efi'ect of 

the height 

of ' In -uni. Cleveland 

fiirn.K'-s ill.- bo . illfrthan usual, while 

.iciiy is in the upper or reducing 

Tin- inventors claim for 



this a lower fuel consumption and a greater 
regularity of working. The angle of the boshes 
as compared with the rest of the furnace varies 
in different districts ; but the modern tendency 
seems to be in the direction of boshes low down 
in the furnace and at an .ingle of about 75. 
The section of most furnaces is round, which 
economises heat and causes it to be more 
uniformly distributed. The hearth is circular 
in section. The greater the diameter of the hearth 
and the greater the vertical distance between 
the slag notch and the twyers, the larger is the 
output. The tap-hole should be on a line mid- 
way between the twyers, and the same remark 
applies to the slag notch. 

Twyers. The twyers are made with a 
double casing that water may flow between. In 
some twyers the cooling water in the form of 
spray is driven from the end of a perforated 
pipe against the port of the twyer. 

The Scotch twyer consists of a spiral wrought - 
iron tube enclosed in a cast-iron casing, and water 
circulates through the coil to keep it cool. The 
number of twyers varies according to the nature 
of the ore and fuel used. Excessive blast con- 
sumes too much fuel, cools the slag, and impedes 
the working. The cutting action of the blast 
on the lining is reduced by allowing the twyers 
to overhang, but this at the same 
time reduces the melting action of 
the hearth. 

The blast is heated by causing it to 
pass through hot stoves, of which 
there are two chief kinds cast-iron 
stoves, containing pipes heated by 
solid fuel, and stoves of refractory 
brickwork, constructed on the re- 
generative principle. Two principal 
forms of the latter are employed, in- 
vented by Cowper and Whitwell re- 

Stoves. The Cowper stove [33] 
is a circular, wrought-iron tower, 60 ft. 
high and 28 ft. in diameter, closed with 
a high dome-shaped roof and lined 
internally with firebrick constructed 
on the regenerative principle. About 
two-thirds of the interior is lined 
with a checker work of brick for 
absorbing the heat obtained from 
the combustion of the waste gases 
from the blast furnace. A large vertical flame 
flue receives the gases, in which they are 
ignited. The flame passes downwards through 
the checker brickwork and makes it red hot. 
When this has continued a sufficiently long 
time the air, gas, and chimney valves are 
closed and the cold blpst admitted in the 
opposite direction, when it takes up the heat 
from the brickwork and passes on to the 
blast furnace through the hot-blast valve 
as shown in 33. It is necessary to have 
two stoves for each furnace, so that one may 
absorb the heat from the burning gases, while 
the other is heating the blast. The bricks 
are of spical shape, and when they are placed 
together form hexagonal passages with walls 
2 in. thick. As compared with the pipe stoves 

the Cowper stove gives a much higher tempera- 
ture, and has led to an increased yield from 
similar furnaces of 20 per cent. ; the fuel con- 
sumption is at the same time lessened. One 
disadvantage of regenerative brickwork stoves 
is the liability to become choked with, dust, 
especially when finely-divided ores are being 
smelted ; this necessitates occasional cleaning, and 
for this purpose Mr. C. Wood, of Middlesbrough, 
employs a brass cannon, which is charged with 
powder, run into the stove, and fired. The 
explosion displaces the dust, which is allowed to 
settle and then removed. Another method 
depends on the use of release valves which 


tli3 brickwork. The reversals are much the same 
as in the Cowper stove, and two stoves are re- 
quired to one blast furnace. Many modifications 
of the above are in use in different districts, some 
of which combine the advantages of both systems. 

The Ford = Moncur Stove. The 
Ford-Moncur stove is one that has met with 
considerable favour of late years. The bricks 
are dome-shaped so as to prevent dust lodging 
on them. The stove is also divided into four 
different parts by vertical partitions, so that 
when it is desired to clean out the dust the blast 
may be turned on to each partition separately. 

Lifts. The materials are brought to the top of 


allow of the instantaneous discharge of the 
imprisoned air. A cloud of dust is immediately 
discharged and shot up into the air. 

The Whitwell Stove. The Whitwell 
stove is cylindrical, with a domed top and 
lined with firebrick, but the internal arrange- 
ment is different from that of the Cowper 
stove. The regenerators consist of a number 
of firebrick passages made of 5-in. brickwork. 
This brickwork contains a main combustion 
flue for the burning of the waste gases, and air 
is admitted by special feed passages. The hot 
and partially-burned gases pass repeatedly up and 
down through the passages, giving up their heat to 

the blast furnace by lifts of various kinds. The 
inclined plane consists of a railway on which 
runs a triangular platform with two unequal 
pairs of wheels. The power is supplied by a 
steam engine, working a Avinding drum, around 
which passes a wire rope or a flat-linked 
chain. Another form is the colliery lift similar 
to that used in a coal-mine. A pneumatic 
lift is often used, and consists of a cast- 
iron ram, working in a long cylinder rising 
the whole height of the furnace. From this 
pass wire ropes over large pulleys to a lift- 
ing table, which contains the loaded trucks or 



Group 9 



n tl mini from p*gr 4397 


Frocks: Drafting, Cutting, snd Making. A Princess Petticoat 
and a Circular Skirt. Overalls. Hints on Lengthening 


17ROM four to six years old and onwards, girls' 
* clothing assumes a definite character, though 
>imi>li<ity should always be the keynote of 
<' il hen's fashions. 

With respect to underwear, the patterns of 
combinations already given will be a suitable 
shape up to the age mentioned, unless chemise 
and drawers be preferred, for which draftings 
are given. The nightdress pattern also will be 
quite right if cut somewhat larger and longer. 
It can be made to fasten at the side if preferred. 
[For larger sizes, see UNDERCLOTHING.] 

The princess form of petticoat is preferable 
to the banded affair, unless this be buttoned on 
to a plain under-bodice, so that the weight rests 
on the shoulders. If the latter be preferred, 
the skirt portion should be gored somewhat, so 
as not to add to the bulk at the waist. For 
girls in the early 'teens, inclined to be stout, the 
princess form of petticoat is best. In this case 
it is better made with a deep frill, cut either 
shaped or straight. 

Frocks. The plain shoulder yoke and 
smocked style should not 
1 M worn after eight years Dt 
of age and not then if 
the child is inclined to be 
tall and thin certainly ;/ 
not by girls of 10 and 12 
years of age, as we have 
seen, unless secured to 
the waist by a sash or 
loose belt. The Empire 
yoke, of course, ran be 
worn by girls of any age, 
but it is not particularly 
ilng to a stout 


Bodice. As was shown 
in our Dressmaking 
course, all garments are 
nio'l'-llcd or built upon a 
skirt and I (dice patt'-rn. 
so 46 gives a drafting 
-i it able for a child of 

uht years of age 

of that in 


Tins follows on the 

KK^MAKINi;. with the 

ptaODS, and c, !n !,< adapted to any 
rement. -1^ in.; back length, 
This last meagre, however, is a very 
a-* the waiM i- not dearly defined 
Dg H -1,11,1 and the drafting shows a 
uluch will do for the 
I i' tunan coat. 

to I), <hc>t mi-axin, -mem : B to A and 
-''!> ..fki.-k plus i in. for nook curve; 

entire length. The 

line can be altered to any depth without affect- 
ing or interfering with the drafting in any way, 
the only alteration needed being that darts or 
side-pieces if made must be carried down 
to the waist-line. A to H and H to I, one-third 
of chest measure ; A "to G, one-sixth of neck 
measure less \ in. for curve. A to I, in. 
Curve from G to I for back neck. A to J, 
two-thirds of chest measure ; J to K, one-half 
of the same less \ in. 

Draw line from K at right angles towards back 
(this is merely as a guide for armhole) ; markKa. 
I to 2, one-sixth of half chest measure (this, 
however, varies with fashion, and may be less 
or more according to taste) ; 2 to 3, | in. Draw 
a line from 3 to G for back shoulder and curve 
from 3 to I for back armhole. 

J to 4 is same length as from I to 2. Draw 
a line at right angles to the right. Mark centre 
of J-4 ; then measure back shoulder, and 
draw same length for front from line 4 to line 
D-A, with centre on the cross marking centre, 
as shown by broken line. Make dots one twelfth 
__ ^ of chest measure on each 
side of angle K ; curve 
from 5 to I, passing 
through dots on each 
side of angle K. 

B to 8, 3 in. Draw 
a line from I to 8 and 
curve \ in. to right of 
this line for back. 

Advance 7 one-twelfth 
of an inch towards D, 
make L, and draw 
shoulder as shown by 
firm line. 

8 to 9 is 1 in. ; curve 
from I to these points ; 
8 to 10 is 3 in. ; draw 
line to armhole and make 
10a, then curve \ in. 
either side of this at 
waist, for under-arm. 

These lines are shown 
b a broken line, as 

they are quite optional, shaping at these portions 
not being always necessary. They should rfot 
be cut, but just marked with the tracing- wheel 
if made to the waist only. 

Now measure pattern and add on what may 
have been taken in by the side-piece to make 
the chest measure correct, and mark 11. 
Draw L to M one-sixth of chest measure, then 
from M to 11. From M to Ma is | in. ; curve 
from L to 11 for neck. 

For the lower portion, make a point midway 
between 8 and 9, also one immediately below 

on line E to F, and draw lines 8a and 9a the 
same distance i.e., \ in. to right and left. 

Extend lines on either side of 10 2J in. below 
waist, and curve from waist to point of these. 
Trace round the pattern and cut out, following 
the firm line for the front shoulder and arm- 

This method can be used for any size up to 
12 years of age. After this period one or tw r o 
darts may be required, and the various draftings 
already given in DRESSMAKING and TAILORING 
can be followed or modified according to re- 

With the aid of this pattern any kind of 
bodice can be made. The method of obtaining 
a yoke of any sha;^ has been fully explained 
in DRESSMAKING [sec 39 to 43, page 479]. If 
one of the Empire 
style be preferred, 
cut to the depth 
required below the 
armhole, whilst if 
the long - 'waisted 
French bodice be 
the model, simply 
extend the lower 
portion as much 
below the waist as 
may be needed, 
sloping it out slightly 
from armhole to 
lower edge. It should 
not, however, ex- 
tend too far, as this 
impedes the move- 
ments of the child. 
If the bodice be 
gathered, allow for 
the necessary 
amount in front or 
at the shoulders, 
according to the 
design. If pleated, 
model the pleatings 
on the pattern 
drafted, which, as 
already remarked, 
forms the founda,- 
tion for all kinds of 
styles. The neck 


E ; cut through 10 and 10a and slope out 
the sides each 1 in., as shown by the double 
line, when, of course, no side-piece would be 
required, and the centre-back must be placed 
to a fold. 

For the sleeve, any of the draftings already 
given can be fol'owed according to fashion. 
The drafting of a collar has been shown in 
several of the previous diagrams. 

Fig. 47 gives a few examples of garments 
suited to girls of the ages mentioned, but from 
this period and onwards the various fashions 
may be consulted, so these designs are merely 
given as models which may form the foundations 
of an endless variety of other styles, with 
slight alterations and additions. These, how- 
ever, we think, will readily occur to the worker 
who has followed 


portion may also be cut round, or pointed, or 
square, or any shape preferred. 

As to the skirt, this can be obtained from the 
model shown in GIRLS' TAILORING [p. 2469], 
where full directions are given for drafting a 
circular skirt adaptable to any size and shape. 
See also drafting for skirt of Victorian Coat 
[50], which will be equally suitable. 

The skirt portion of an Empire yoke may be 
either circular or straight, pleated or gathered, as 
preferred. The frock part of one with a shoulder- 
yoke, or saddle, should be sloped at the under- 
arm seams, andalso requires rounding slightly 
at the armhole. The lower edge should be cut 
a little a very little shorter at the sides, as it 
always has a tendency to drop here. 

To cut an American blouse from the drafting 
just given, slope the fronts out half an inch at 

either, or all, of the 
previous courses. 

Chemise and 
drawers are not 
illustrated, as those 
already given for 
children of one to 
four years of age 
can quite easily be 

The same remark, 
too, will apply to 
the combinations. 

We will now de- 
scribe the garments 

(a) A princess 

(b) Here we have 
the divided skirt 
already mentioned 
in the garments for 
the toddler. The 
method of obtaining 
this pattern is indi- 
cated in the drafting 
of the first knickers, 
by a broken line, so 
is not given again. 
The material and 
trimming are, of 
course, a matter of 

taste, but for small children this is a much 
better shape for the flannel petticoat than the 
ordinary skirt affair. In this case it would be 
better without the frill, and the edges finished 
off with a festooned hem. The fastening is at 
the back, the closing being accomplished by 
means of several buttons and buttonholes. 

(c) A Russian frock. 

(d) A plain overall or frook, cut all in one 

(e) A German pinafore. The shape of this 
quaint little model, hailing from the Fatherland, 
is explained by the back view. It is cut all in 
one piece, and fastens on the shoulder. 

(/) Long-waistecl French petticoat, with two 
circular frills for the skirt portion. This shape 
sets out the frock very prettily at the lower edge. 
Directions for cutting circular and shaped frills 



I, iv,- already been given in DRESSMAKING, whilst 

tfcose for th- >h:i|M-d skirt part of the Victorian 

bo 1"- .-dapted to the size required. 

ityie of petticoat is better suited to cambric 

,n- lom/'-loth for white summer ones. 

(g) The long-waisted style, known as the French 

(/,) A sailor style tor either 

boy or girl. This is termed a 

master frock, and is 

i.-t ly the same as the 

man-o'-war style [page 4355J, 

the only difference being that 

th- fronts are left open and 


(') The flannel vest or bodice 
to be worn with this style of 
frock, which is made of fine 
white flannel or cloth. 

(/) A princess petticoat. 

(k) Reefer coat and skirt 

(/) Red Riding Hood cloak. 

(m) A Victorian coat. 

(n) Overall frock with yoke 
and box-pleated front, model- 
led as (i ). 

The making of a coat with 
step-collar and Norfolk coat, 
also of a girl's sacque coat, 
have all been fully explained , s \ , 4 
ING, and these styles, with 


slight modifications of size, style and length, are 
all suited to girls' outdoor wear, the loose Nor- 
folk coat being especially neat and becoming 
to a young girl. 

A Princess Petti- 
coat. In Diagram 48 we 
have the drafting of the 
princess petticoat, which 
will he found a most use- 
ful one. This is /?' 

I to a 

n. chest 
The working of 
the upper por- 
t i >n is exactly 
the same as 46, 
allowing for tin- 
difference of 

rot, with 

Eoeptibn ot 1 to -1. which is ] in., to allow 

1 ' Milder. 8 and 8a, 9 and 9a 

omitted Make 8 2 in. from B, without 

Hoping thi- in at Mntae-tack. Make N mid- 

l>etween G and :{. and curve slightly from 

make a dot \ in. to right of 8 and 

Muve f,,,m 1,,-re to meet line N at width of 

bMfe line .\,,u make 12, 2 in. f rom C on waist 

lino ; make o midway between L and 7, curve 

sl.uhtly from <) to 12. Make a point \ in. to 

on W .,M | 1M e. eurve up from this to meet 

Tuive tn.m |o to \(\ti as in 46. 

' t'oin I I// to 1,-iiLMh required, in this 
l> m. : m.:k- M. then m,-ike a point 1 in 

TO left of this mark, 15. and slope from this 
dot to 11, to give a little extra width for centre- 
front. Make a dot 2| in. to right of 14, then 
make another 1 in. to right and left of this, 
and draw a line from 12 and 13 to these dots, 
as shown at 12 and 13. Make a dot level 
with 10 the same distance as 
from C to 13; make dots 
1| in. to right and left, and 
draw a line from waist to 
meet these, as at 106 and lOc. 
Treat line N to 8 and 9 the 
same for the side of back and 

Two inches below B ma,ke 
a dot ; then add on 2 or more 
inches for back fulness to the 
bottom, which make the same 
length as from 9 and 10. 
Trace the pattern round care- 
fully and cut out, placing the 
various notches as shown, as 
these are a guide for putting 

This drafting will do for the 
princess frock shown at A in 
47, the only alteration being 
needed at the side and back, 
which are gathered on to the 
waist in the ordinary skirt 

For this style the back of 
the bodice is cut slightly 

49. OVKI;\I.I, 

below waist at back, the skirt portion consisting 
of straight or very slightly gored widths, being 
made as full as taste may dictate. It is joined 
on to the side seam and the waist part of back 
of bodice, whilst the bodice trimming is carried 
over the shoulder to the skirt at back waist. 

By altering the position of the side seam, as 
from N and 0, to nearer the shoulder, the same 
drafting will do for the Russian frock marked 
at (c) in the same diagram. In this case the front 
portion is folded over towards the sleeve to 
form a pleat, which is stitched down quite flat. 
This frock fastens at the left side under the fold, 
so a narrow left-side front will be required. 

It would also form a corselet or suspender 
frock, all that is necessary being to cut it to 

the approved 
height above 
the waist line. 
Should it be 
preferred with 
inverted pleats 
at the seams, 
the required 
amount for 
these can be 
easily added 
on at each 
seam, exactly 
. as shown for 
the centre-back. Such an arrangement always 
looks better if the pleats slope upwards, in 
height, from the front, the highest being at 
the cent re -back. 

This design would make a very pretty little 

frock, whilst the pleats coald either be inverted, 
or box-pleated outside the seams, where they 
could be mitred off at the tops or finished off 
in various ways. Care must, however, be taken 
to keep them perfectly even, and not let them 
drop at the sides. 

No. 49 illustrates the overall depicted at (d) 
in the sketch under consideration, 
which is easily obtained from the 
bodice drafting of 46, as the broken 
lines show, or the princess frock 
drafting of 48, by omitting the side 
seams. It will form the foundation 
of ( n), and many others. This can 
be cut all in one piece, or with an 
underarm seam, as preferred. The 
broken line and crosses show the 
portion not to be cut. If made 
quite plain with the V-shaped open- 
ing, cut as shown by the broken 
line. If with the pointed yoke as 
at (d), cut this as indicated by the 
double broken line, and model the 
box pleat at the lower portion as 
already mentioned for the tunio 
suit and girl's skirt mentioned in 


shaped at back and front of neck, and pleated 
instead of quite plain, this makes a very pretty 
frock to be worn over lace vests. 

To make a perfectly plain overall or frock, 
as at (d), 2| yd. of 27-in. goods are required. 

Circular Skirt. No. 50 shows the draft- 
ing of the circular skirt for the Victorian or Em- 
pire coat, the bodice being obtained from 46. 

A to B, half of waist 
measure less 1 in ; A to D, a 
quarter of same ; D to E, 
skirt length, in this case 
24 in., but it may be made 
any length desired. B to 
C, same length as from D to 
E ; C to F, 3 in. Extend 
D to E, and draw line from 
B to F ; G, midway between 
A and B ; G to H, 1 of 
waist measure (6 in.). Curve 
from B through H to D , 
measure from this the length 
of skirt ; also midway be- 
tween make marks for 
outer circle and curve from 
F to E. 

If a pleated skirt be 
desired, the foundation need 
not be quite so full, and may be decreased as 
shown by the broken line. Upon this the 
pleated portion can be modelled. The sleeve 
can be obtained from the previous drafts. 

For the making of the coat, see TAILORING 
Ladies' Empire Coat [page 2328J for which the 
instructions there given can be followed. If 
of fairly thick cloth, the bodice only need be 
lined, when the seams and edges should be neat- 
ened by binding. 

The required quantities for this coat with 
circular skirt would be 2 yd. of 44-in. goods, 
f yd. of Italian cloth for bodice lining, and a 


52. CLOAK 


small quantity of fine French canvas for inter- 

For children, separate collars are the best 
kind of neck finish, as they can be removed and 

Number 51 shows the method of cutting out 
the reefer coat from 48- in. cloth, of which lj yd. 
should be sufficient. The drafting 
and making of this jacket are 
similar to that of the sacque in 
GIRLS' TAILORING, to which we 
must refer the worker for instruc- 
tions on this point. The collar can 
be easily altered to the ordinary 
sailor style if wished by sloping it 
off to the front. The facing will 
require joining, as shown by the 
crosses, the seams of which must 
be carefully pressed. 

A cloak of the Red Riding Hood 
order forms a most welcome addi- 
tion to a small girl's wardrobe, and, 
indeed, is useful at almost any age 

The cloak shown is made with 
a collar and hood, and is fitted to 
the shoulder by two darts. If made 
without the latter, it will need to be almost 
circular, and thi? adds the fulness at the 
lower part, which is therefore apt to fly about 
too much for the comfort and warmth of the 
small wearer ; for this reason the shape shown 
is recommended. 

This cloak will require 2| yd. of 44-in 
material, and in the making care will have to 
be taken to keep the edges 
thin and the corner of the 
cape and collar quite sharp. 
When making the latter, 
be careful to ease the upper 
portion slightly 1 in. from 
each corner, as mentioned 
in Pocket-flaps [see BOYS' 
TAILORING, page 129 1J, when 
putting on, so as to get this 
to set over and not curl up. 
The upper edge should also 
come slightly over the under 
one, as in making boys' 

Girl's French Frock. 
For the girl's French frock, 
cut the bodice lining accord- 
ing to the drafting of 46 or 
48, according to the age and 
size of the child, making this the length required. 
Model one side of front as sketched, making it 
cross over a little beyond the centre. If the 
worker is not very expert, she had better do this 
in paper. Cut it out carefully, then fold the 
material and cut two pieces exactly alike, marking 
the pleats to keep them even, and placing the 
crossover edges to the selvedges. This is 
very important, as, if placed on the bins, the 
fronts will stretch and soon get out of shape. 
The backs are pleated from the shoulder and 
neck, and do not cross over or require a vest 
of white as in the front. 


Tin- >Uirt i-ineidy ' straight length of material 
l-j m t.. 1 in or l<> in. deep, according to tin- 

or puff sleeves ; also with open neck, which looks 
very pretty for small children's summer wear. 
Hints on Lengthening. With regard 

.,,,, m , n ,n<s l,,,t. as remarked, Hints on Lengthening. 

"hou mi "t "mi below the knees. It mav, to lengthening, the last-named style is one of 

great possibilities in this most important detail. 

Sleeves are generally more difficult to deal with 
in this respect. The simplest way, however, is to 
make these either of the bishop or puff order, 
a little longer than the required length, when a 
tew tiny horizontal tucks at the elbow will serve 
for ornament at first and length later on. If 
on a foundation a tuck should be run in this, 
just above the elbow. 

For petticoats, the bodice part can always be 
made a little longer than is necessary and a tuck 
put in this, which is then easily let down when 

For frocks, the skirt part can either be secured 
an inch or more above the lower edges of bodice, 
or a tuck made in the foundation, to be let down 
as needed. In other cases wide hems or tucks 

however, l- kilt-l instead of gathered, which has 
x i ivmdy u'ood effect. The directions already 
making the kilt can be followed if 
vie of >kirt is preferred. 

When makinu this frock, mark the turnings 
illv. thm tuck the vest and tack in 
portion. Hem the crossover edges of front.-. 
press well, and arrange these as sketched on 
the lining foundation, right crossing over left; 
' lower edge and tack to foundation, allow- 
ing it to pouch somewhat. Turn in the edges 
of foundation back to the marks, machine-stitch, 
and make button-holes on the right side 1 in. 
apart, ami NW buttons on left to correspond. 

Turn in the edges of material back to form an 
inch-wide hem. and machine this next at the 
edge. Arrange and tack material backs on 
foundation, the edges overlapping a little; 
tack fronts and backs together at shoulder and 
underarm seams, machine-stitch, open, oversew, 
and press. Then sew six or eight small hooks 
backwards on the inside of hem at centre-back 
on the stitching, and make silk loops on the left 
-<ide to correspond. Gather lower edges, arrange, 
and pin in position on lower edge of foundation, 
and tack to this. Tack the collar and secure this 
to neck. Then place right hem of foundation 
over the left hem; stitch firmly together; 
arrange the right and left material backs to 
-pond, and secure together an inch or so 
above this to prevent gaping open when on. 
Join the skirt portions required, open and press 
seams, turn up lower edge and make a hem from 
1 in. to 2 in. wide. Mark centre of back and 
front, gather upper edges, using one thread for 
each division: place centres of front and back to 
of bodice, being careful to have no seam 
in ciiitre-front. Draw up gathers to fit bodice, 
ige so that the fulness is graduated off to the 
back, pin and sew in place, then neaten Avith 
.}> of material or binding, which should be 
hemmed to foundation and fastened off securely 

The Sleeves. Join the sleeves by means 

of ;i l-Y.-n. h seam (unless the material be too 

thick), and gather the lower edges. Now join 

up the cutT portions, open and press seams, fold 

in half along the centre of cuff, then turn in 

upper edges to face. Draw up cuff edges of sleeve 

M l>etwr ( -M them, stitch together and 

off the ends neatly. Make the other 

I cufT to correspond, then gather 

I'p- -r p .in. ascertain position of front seam, 

:- MI .iimlmle. sew them firmly in place 

u or hind neatly. Sew in the other 


Kini-h nil \\aist part uitli folded belt 

ThU trork will tke _',- vd.ot U-in. material, 

'd yd. of silk for vest and 

i course, be varied in many \\-a vs. 

:ln<l m " |(> with .- pointed yok.-'. elbow 

should be made, whilst the bodice should always 
allow for expansion and be an easy fit. 

One point of importance should not be 
forgotten. It is important that the skirt should 
hang perfectly evenly all round, and, if anything, 
a trifle shorter at the back than the front, 

rather than have the slightest suspicion of a 
" dip " there. This detail, apparently a trifling 
one, is frequently overlooked, and makes all the 
difference between a well-dressed child and a 
dowdy one. 

For a child's bathing gown, the combination 
pattern given will be suitable, w r hilst for a later 
period it is also better to have a combined under- 
garment and a separate skirt portion, both for 
bathing and gymnastic purposes. [See also 
UNDERCLOTHING.] Small girls, it may be 
mentioned, are often clad in a sailor suit for 
gymnastic exercises. 

At about twelve years of age begins the 
awkward period of a girl's attire, when, how- 
ever, the varying fashions may be more or less 
consulted and adapted. It would be impossible 
to deal with all these, but, as has been already 
remarked, simplicity should always be the guiding 
principle, with a certain regard for the type and 
characteristics of the young girl herself, wiio 
is usually gauche and awkward enough at the 
" between age " without having these peculiarities 
accentuated by her clothing. 

A full frock with an empire yoke outlined with 
a thick-folded belt with large bow and long ends, 
and fichu-like drapery at the neck, would not 
rouse enthusiasm on a stout and short-necked 
girl, but worn by her slim sister the result would 
be charming. In the first case, lines of trimming, 
or folds, arranged to give length and decrease 
the apparent width should be selected. In- 
judicious or unbecoming attire has a very 
subtle effect on the character, particularly at 
this susceptible period, and shyness and self- 
epnsciousness are often increased thereby. 
Therefore, we repeat, let children's clothing be 
well chosen, but, above all, let it be .very simple. 

s ( I.OTIU.M; concluded; followed by 



Theory of Parallel Straight Lines. The Val e of the 
Angles of a Triangle, and of those of any Rectilineal Figure 

Group 21 



continued from page 4r,l 


L ACD is >L FCE. 
L ACD is > 

Proposition 10. Theorem 

Ij one side oj a triangle is produced, the 
exterior angle is greater than either of the interior 
opposite angles. A 

Let ABC be a A 
in which BC is pro- 
duced to D. 

It is required 
to prove that the 
/.ACD is greater Q" 
than either of the 
L s ABC, BAG. 

Construction. Bi- 
sect AC at E . Join BE and produce BE to F, 
making EF - BE. Join CF. 

Proof. In the AS BAE, FCE, 

L AEB = vertically opposite /. CEF (Prop. 3). 

.'.As are equal in all respects (Prop. 4). 


In the same way, by producing AC to G and 
joining A to the middle point of BC, we can 
prove that ^BCG is >/_ABC. But /.BCG 
= L ACD (Prop. 3). 

.'.L ACD is > L ABC. 

Corollary 1. Any two angles of a triangle 
are together less than two right angles. 

For L ABC has been proved < L ACD. 

.'. LS ABC, ACB are together less than LS 
ACD, ACB, i.e., < two right angles (Prop. 1). 

Corollary 2. Every triangle must have at 
least two acute angles. 

For, if it has one angle equal to. or greater 
than, a right angle, then, by Cor. 1, each of the 
other angles must be less than a right angle. 

Hence, a triangle is only called acute-angled 
when it has all its angles acute. 

Parallel Lines 

1. Parallel straight lines are straight lines 
which lie in the same 

plane and which do not 
meet however far they 
are produced in either 

2. Let the two stiaight 
lines, AB, CD be cut by a 
third straight line EF. 
Then, of the eight angles 

1, 4, 5, 8 are called exterior L s. 

2, 3, 6, 7 are called interior LS. 

2 and 7 are called alternate L s. 

3 and 6 are also alternate L s. 

If we are referring to any one of the exterior 

angles, say 5, then 7 is called the interior 
opposite angle on the same side of EF. 

3. Play fair's Axiom. Tico straight lines which 
intersect cannot both be parallel to a third straight 

Proposition 11. Theorem 

If a straight line cuts two other straight lines 
and makes, either 

(i.) the alternate angles equal ; 
or (ii.) the exterior angle equal to the interior 
opposite angle on the same side of 
the cutting line ; 

or (iii.) the two interior angles on the same 
side of the cutting line together equal 
to two right angles, 
. then, in each case, the two straight 

lines are parallel. 

Let the straight line EF cut the two straight 
lines AB, CD, at the points G and H. 

(i.) Let the L AGH = the alternate /.GHD. 

It is required 
to prove that 

V AB is || to CD. 

V B Proof. If AB 

and CD are not |J, 
they will meet 
when produced, 
c \ D either in the direc- 

\ tion of A and C, 

or in the direction 
of B and D. 

Suppose they meet when produced towards 
B and D, in the point K. 

Then, GHK is a triangle, with the side KG 
produced to A. 

.'. The exterior /_ of the triangle, /.AGH, is 
>the interior opposite /.GHD (Prop. 10). 

But /.AGH is given equal to /.GHD, and 
they cannot be both equal and unequal. 

.'. AB and CD cannot meet when produced. 

.'. AB and CD are parallel. 

(ii.) Let the exterior /.EGB the interior 

opposite /.GHD 

It is required to prove that AB is j| to CD. 
Proof. Since L EGB - L GHD (Hyp. ), 
and L EGB = /.AGH (Prop. 3). 

.'.^AGH= /.GHD. 
But these are alternate LS. 
.'. by (i.), AB and CD are ||. 
(iii.) Let the interior ^sBGH, GHD, together 

equal two right angles. 
It is required to prove that AB is l| to CD. 

/.BGH+ ^GHD= 2 right LS (Hyp.}, 
and ^BGH+ ^AGH= 2 right La (Prop 1). 
= /.BGH+ _AGH. 



.'. taking a \\.-iy tin- 
tlkene i-.iu.-il-. we ha\v 

_ K< J II fr<in tvu-li of 

Hut t hrsr an* altrnia: 

/. by (i.), ABan.l CD are . 

Proposition 12. Theorem 

// n .-./ mil/Ill fin'' fills tin> fHii-iiHi'l straight 
. '/ make*, 

(i.) '/'/ dlh-i-niih' iiit'/li'* >-<i\i\ . 

MI ) '/'/(' >.</, ,;,,) ,in<il'- I'liiul to the interior 

nn tin- Mini'' 

of the 




(iii.) The I iuf prior o m/^'s <// ///<- win if. side 
of the cutting line together equal to In;, 
right angles. 
I ' the straight line EF cut the two parallel 

-ht lines AB, CD at the points G and H. 
It is required to prove _ 


(i.) L AGH = alternate 


(ii.) Z.EGB = interior 

opposite L GHD. 

(iii.) /.BGH + Z.GHD 

= 2 right L s. 
Proof, (i.) If the /.AGH 
not equal to Y.GHD, the /.KGH is equal to /.GHD and 
alien late to it. Then 

KG is || to CD (Prop. 11). 
But AB is \\ to GD (Hyp.). 

.'. there are two intersecting straight lines 
AM, KG, which are both || to CD. But, by 
I May fair's Axiom, this is impossible. 

.'. /.AGH is not unequal to .iGHD, 


Since LEGE= Z.AGH (Prop. 3), 

/LAGH = ^GHD. 

Add to each the 

_ = 2 right L s. 

Proposition 13. Theorem 

MratgM /,,.., ,,-hich are parallel to the same 

'' "" I"' "'IM to one another. 

Let AB, CD, each be || to XY. 
It IN ivquuvd to prove 

AB is || to CD. 

' a straight line / 

KK .-MHin-AB. CD. XV, A PL 

*t the point* F, G, B / 

Thm. since AB is || to 

^ , and KK nir.-tx thru, 


ni'I. nnoc CD is!| to XY 
- 1 '" 1 ' ben 

- F<; '> interim- ,,,,,,,,,itr _ l HV 

.'. -AFH , LFGD 
'"t theee are alternate _s 
u ; ' ( PI-HI,. 1 1 

Proposition 14. 
"" "" "/>'//.- ,,f triangle 

l"t',;, r ,,,1,t ., 


It is required to 
prove that 

_ABC + 
+ /.CAB = 2 right 

L S. 

Produce BC to 
any point D, find 
let CE be the 
straight line through C which is || to BA. 

Proof. Since BA and CE are !|, and AC meets 

.'. L ACE = alternate /.BAC; 
and, since BA and CE are |l and BD meets them 
z_ECD= interior opposite Z.ABC. 


C onlinued 

i.e , L ACD = L BAG + L ABC. 

To each of these eq uals add L BC A. 

^ACD+ ,i.BCA= /.BAC+ Z.ABC + 

L ACD + /_ BCA = 2 right z. s (Prop. 1). 
.*. Z.ABC+ Z.BCA+ ,LCAB= 2 right z_s. 
NOTE. In the course of the proof we have 
shown that if one side of a triangle be produced, 
the exterior angle is equal to the sum of the, tiro 
interior opposite angles. 

Corollary 1. All the interior angles of any 
rectilineal figure, together with four right angb'.i. 
are equal to twice as many right angles as thu 
figure has sides. 
Let ABCDE be a rectilineal figure. 

Take any point O within 
the figure, and join O to each 
of the angular points. The 
figure is thus divided into 
as many AS as it has sides. 

Now, the three L s of each 
A = 2 right L s. 
.". the .s of all the As = twice as many right 
L s as there are As. 
= twice as many right 
L s as the figure has 

But the /.s of the As make up the LS of the 
figure together with the L s at O, and the L s at 
O make four right La (Prop. 1. Cor.). 

.'. Ls of the figure + four right /_s= twice 
as many right L s as the figure has sides. 

Corollary 2. If the sides of a rectilineal fig ur>> 
which has no re-entrant angle (i.e., no angle 
greater than tiro right angles) are produced in 
order, the exterior angles .so 
formed are together equal to 
four right angles. 

The interior z_ + the 
exterior L. at any angular 
point = two right <Ls. 

.'. all the interior /.s + all 
the exterior LS = twice as 
many right L s as the figure 
has angles, i.e., as the figure 
has sides. 

But, the interior ._ s + four right Z.s= twice 
right the figure has sides (Cor. 1). 
interior LS+ the exterior L s = the 
L. s + four right L s. 
the exterior /_s= four right LS. 


Different Classes of Bits. Taps and Dies and their Prin- 
ciples. Saws. Forms of Saw Teeth and Set of Saws 

Group 12 





continued from page 4264 


Woodworkers' Boring Tools. The 

differences between these and the drills and 
allied tools used by metalworkers are, as in 
other tools, chiefly those due to cutting angle, 
which again is governed by the difference in 
the softer and harder character of the materials 
operated on. The woodworkers' boring tools 
have a small tool angle ; the angle of front rake, 
or that of the cutting face often approximates 
very closely to that of the face of the material 
being cut, and the angle of top rake is low, 
permitting of the free escape of the shavings. 
These points are seen in the numerous bits 
and auger bits. The term bits, with suitable 
prefixes, denotes a large and varied group of 
useful tools, some being seen in 38 to 42 ; 
but though these bits possess in common the 
features just stated, th'eir variations call for some 
further explanation. 

Two Classes of Bits. There are two 
kinds of holes required in timber one in which 
location to a precise centre is not essential, 
the other in which it is. The ordinary shell 
bit [38], A, spoon bit, B, nose bit, C, and augers 
[39], A, do not bore accurately, because they 
possess no centring tit. The gimlets, and 
gimlet augers, B, and the twist gimlet, C, do 
possess this feature in the tapered screw. But 
they have disadvantages in other respects, in 
consequence of which they are unsuitable for 
work demanding a high degree of accuracy. 
The numerous centre bits possess the centring 
faculty in varying degrees, because the hole 
is started by the tit placed in the centre, before 
the cutting edges come into action. Around 
this principle designs are varied to obtain 
equally balanced cutting forces, to produce 
clean severance of grain with the least effort, 
and to facilitate the escape of chips with tho 
minimum of friction. From these points of 
view the common centre bit [40], A, is the worst 
of its class, because its cutting action is un- 
balanced. It has one nicker, a, and one cutting 
lip, b, on opposite sides of the tit. Directly 
the cutter, b, begins its work, practically all 
the stress is thrown upon its side of the centre, 
with much torsional effort. Its cutting edge 
also is too wide for easy work, hence these bits 
tend to run, and they will not bore with fair 
truth except in plank way of the grain. Try 
them in end, or diagonal grain, and they are 
almost useless. Neither is the tit of triangular 
section a good form for centring, hence many 
recent bits have a screw instead, B, but the 
other objectionable features remain. 

Balanced Bits. Contrast this with the 
later forms [41], the Gilpin, the Jennings, the 
Irwin, and others. These comprise a fine 

central screw for centring, two nickers, and 
two cutters on opposite sides. Or cutting is 
an operation done without separate nicking, and 
the lips are generally formed in some fashion 
or another to give a shearing or detailed cut, 
and so lessen the severity of the task. In 41, 
A is a Jennings bit with screw and nickers ; 
B differs in having double nickers, or spurs, 
going down and up, the latter helping to get 
the chips out of the hole ; in C the spurs stand 
upwards only. In Gedge bits, D and E, the 
curved cutting edges cut very sweetly, on the 
same principle that a gouge severs more material 
with less effort than a chisel does, due to the 
shearing action. E is a solid-nose auger, the 
chips passing up through the holes in the nose. 
F is a screw auger with lips which neither stand 
up or down ; G and H are Irwin bits, or augers 
in two forms out of several, the features common 
to all being the solid circular forged shank. 
In the examples A to F, provision for getting 
out the chips, absent in the centre bit [40], is 
secured by the spiral twist. In some also the 
turned-up lips assist in lifting out cuttings 
from deep holes. The spiral in A to F is imparted 
by twisting a flat piece of steel into a helical 
form. In G, H, and others the shape is that 
of a small cylindrical stem with a deep helix 
around it, and it is claimed that there is less 
friction and more strength in this form than 
in the other. Some of these, termed auger 
bits and augers, are made in the same designs, 
but of larger size. These tools are made for 
use by hand, and by machine also. 

All these are rigid tools, each capable of 
boring only one diameter. The principle of 
adjustability is embodied in the expansion 
centre bits and the hollow augers, the first for 
holes, the second for pins and dowels. In the 
first [42] the cutting lip is adjustable to a 
considerable range of radii, and is clamped by 
a screw. Graduations on the face enable the 
diameter to be read. These bits will bore the 
exact size specified ; centre bits always bore 
larger than the normal diameter. The hollow 
auger [43] has two adjustable knives, a, pinched 
with set screws, to produce a moderate range 
of diameters. 

Well=sinKer's Tools. The boring tools 
are not exhausted by the metal and wood 
workers. The well-sinker uses them for boring 
hundreds of feet down into the earth's strata. 
These are formed on identical principles with 
the others, but they are attached to rods, added 
lengths of which are screwed on as the depth 
of the boring proceeds. Some types pre- 
dominate the flat chisel, the tee chisel, the 
clay auger, and the circular chisel. A few are 



>ho\ui in 44. A is a tee chisel. It combines 

i ,nn <>f the ,-liivl with the funrtion of 

tin- drill. The curved >idr piece ensures the 

, ut tin- ot a . iicular liole by the rotation of the 

I. Flat chisels are used without the side 

piece, I'ut they have to be lifted at every few 

in.-hrx mid rotated rapidly. B shows four 

la mounted on a boring head. C is a 

.!,,! rhi-el armed with teeth. Diamonds 
. <|iientlv set iii a tool of this kind, having 
in ennui instead of teeth. They are used 

.irillinir the hanlest rocks, and often cost 
hundreds of pounds each. Ordinary rocks arc 
pierced by rock drills. Some have four edges in 
the form of a cross, usually of chisel shape, though 
\aiied in forms. \). These are used in percussion 
boring. U'ing lifted, dropped, and rotated, so 
1. 1 caking up the rock and producing round holes. 
The (hips are removed by other tools termed 
>helk ( 'layey soil is removed by clay augers. 
Tools for Screw Production. Few 

pi engineers are aware of the large 
mini here of diverse tools and machines which 
an- iiM-d in the formation of screw threads. 
The dimensions of screws, the degree of accuracy 
d'-manded, and the quantities required are 
the principal causes which control methods. 
And within each governing condition there are 
methods, and many designs by which 
similar results are attained. The subject of 
MTCWH, and the tools and machinery for pro- 
din ing them do, in fact, give sole occupation 
to numerous firms. 

urns.' tackle may be broadly divided into 
two grou|>s, one being that in which the cutting 
tool or tools have one function only, that of 
producing the correct section of the screw 
thread, the piteh and diameter being controlled 
by extraneous devices. This is the method of 
the se re \v -cutting lathe, the chasing lathes, 
and the hand-operated comb, or chasing tools. 
The other group comprises tools which not only 
produce the sections of the threads, but also 
-i/. und pitch correctly. These include the 
oth hand and machine operated, 
which, once started, have the capacity of self- 
iMiidanre by virtue of the lead of the threads, 
three or more cutters in the 

Ot the lir-Mum.d group little need be said. 

The method> of >ere\\ uttiiii: in the lathe have 

touched on in a previous article. With 

d to the tools, they simply have the section 

of the thread, vce or square 'in plan, generally 

it top rakr. aetin-r. therefore, as scrapes. 

'ooU for >i|uare threaded screws, care 

ha- tn be taken to give sufficient clearance at 

the leading edge, the amount of which depends 

"iL-le of tin- screw thread. The 

"ip includes the common taps and 

diet, m \\hirh there ;,,e \eral important points 

Mdthrn the maehine dirs. \vhicl, 

v large number, m.i-t of which 

"tomatic in their a-tioii. 

Taps and Dies. In their most elementary 

Miply Screws adapted as rutting 

ate. They have undergone a gndwS 

volution from forms in which friction 

and squeezing a' tion were more in evidence as 
cutting, to present-day types, in which friction 
is of the slightest. In the old ones the screw 
threads occupied by far the largest portion 
of the circumference of the tap or die ; in the 
modern types, the spaces predominate. 

If we look at the tap and die in elementary 
forms, used still in small taps and screw plates, 
we see that a screw, external or internal, is made 
iflto a tool for reproducing other screws by 
cutting grooves down depthwise, the edges of 
which grooves act either by scraping, or by 

Tap Sections. In the very smallest taps 
considerations of strength prevent them from 
being deeply fluted like those of larger size. 
Small taps that is, those which are used with 
screw plates are often of the sections in 45, 
A and B, in this respect resembling the flat- 
faced reamers, and coming, therefore, properly 
under the head of scraping tools. All taps were 
formerly of these sections. But taps of over 
about |"k in., and even smaller in the best 
makes, are fluted, as at C or D, the front of the 
cutting edges pointing radially to the centre of 
the tap. Either three or four flutes are made, 
four being generally favoured, on account of the 
better guidance. A slight amount of clearance 
or relief is imparted to the back of the teeth 
by backing off the threads, C, D, in a similar 
manner to that described in connection with 
backed-off milling cutters. Formerly taps were 
relieved by tapering the entire thread down the 
length of the tap, but such is bad practice, and is 
never followed now, because the tap loses thereby 
its proper guidance. But backing-off can never 
be very pronounced because of the weakening 
effect of each on the cutting edges ; hence the 
friction of tapping is severe. In the best taps 
there is seldom any front rake. But good results 
are secured by lessening the segments of the 
thread, either by increasing the number of grooves, 
or by giving them greater spacing, which applies to 
both taps and dies. Though the incisive action 
is not increased directly, it is indirectly, by lessen- 
ing the amount of screw thread which is buried 
in the work, and thus lessening friction. Simple 
though these principles are, yet on the due 
balancing of the relations of these elements in 
die construction, and in a lesser degree in taps, 
depends a difference of perhaps 200 or 300 per 
cent, in rapidity of output. 

Die Sections. In the dies the typical form 
is not so apparent. The cutting face is formed 
by grinding the leading edges, either parallel with 
the face of the die, or radial [46]. But it is obvious, 
on a moment's consideration, that the cutting 
action of either one of the edges or corners is of 
a variable character, because of the varying 
diameter of the thread which is being cut, and 
tin- unalterable size of the dies. Dies are cut 
over hobs [47], which are either one or two 
threads larger in diameter than the screws which 
they have to cut, and as the thread to be cut has 
two diameters, one at the bottom and the other 
at the top of the thread, tru% coincidence between 
thread and dies can take place only in one 


38. Woodworkers' bits, of shell and allied types 39. Nose and gimlet types 40. Common centre hits 41. Balanced 
augers and auger Kits 42. Expanding centre bit 43. Hollow auger 44. Well-sinkers' tools 45. Sections of taps 
46. The action of screwing dies 47. Master tap 48. Spring dies and chasers 49. Opening die-head 50. A set of taps 

51. Handsaw teeth 52. Circular saw teeth 53. Band or frame saw teeth 54. Cross-cut saw teeth 
U 4481 


The action <>f the dies N seen dearly in 46, 
\\hi-i-t- 1 slmw> tin- position of the die when com- 
mencing to cut tin- thread, and 2 its position 
when the thread is finished. BO that the cut is 
iciiced with the corners a. Then as the thread 
MM they an- thrown off, and a squeezing 
art ion occurs between a and b, and afterwards the 
comers n o,uite cease to cut, and all the work is 
then-ton- thrown upon the internal corners b. 
Tin- only angle of clearance then is that slight 
amount "which is present when the surface of the 
thread I icing cut is not in exact coincidence with 
tin- surface of the die that is, at the periods 
when the corners o or 6 are actually cutting. 
A No. the slight alteration in the angle of the 
thread, which i> continually taking place as the 
diameter of the screw is being reduced, throws 
i work on the dies, causing excess of friction. 
It is thus apparent that dies are not good 
cutting tools. Chasers are superior as cutting 
tools, because they have the proper angles 
readily imparted to them. 

Out of this action arises the question of the 
best curvature to impart to dies. As these are 
cut by a hob or master tap [47], their curvature is 
obviously that of the tap, and unalterable. In 
46, A shows a practically impossible form in 
hand dies of the style shown, cut over a hob of the 
me diameter as the thread to be produced. 
Obviously, though these would cut at the start, 1, 
At the finish, 2, the cutting action would have 
ceased. But in those shown at B, made over a 
aob one thread deeper than the thread to be cut, 
'hey arc still operative at 2 when the thread is 
low n to si/e, for the edge 6 still has relief, due to 
he difference in curvature of the thread and the 
lie. At C, dies cut over a hob two threads deeper 
than the screw to be cut do not cut well at first, 
l>m when the thread is finished they are fully 

Now, though these are, and have long been, the 
standard design used in England for hand dies, 
they are not the best possible. American dies 
have \\ider Bptoes, and smaller arcs in operation. 
Fig. 48 illustrates a few. 

American Dies. The feature in these is 

that they are solid, and do not therefore permit 

(I inwards at intervals as the thread 

like i he (lies just illustrated. One run over 

i'-iciil to cut the screw, and there is far less 

of the s<|iiee/ine action which causes the ordinary 

- w.rk BO liar. I. The appearance of a solid 

die in plan i> >hown in 47, A. The cutting faces 

nve a ^ln-ht amount of front rake, and the dotted 

indicate the relative angles of the faces 

behind the thread, which slope away in adirection 

'i-enyih to the die. The threads are 

<1 off to give clearance similarly to taps 

Although these are solid dies, provision is intro- 

_ the diameter of the screw cut 

tor wear of the die, or to 

in the lit of screws in their holes 

';-'" \ connnon method is 

' B. where the die is split at one side, and 

placed within a rm L . or ,-////. is expanded 

'"* in the pointed screw at the side or 

by the two Bcrewu at ri^ht angles, 

th( " tfcedie i.em, >,,fhvicnt to allow 


of a small amount of springing. There are many 
other devices for producing the same effect, being 
chiefly tapered or pointed screws. The outer 
collet is held in the die stock, or, in the case of 
lathes and screw machines, in a circular body. 

In some dies, especially those of the larger 
sizes, steel is saved, and convenience of grinding 
secured by fastening flat pieces, or chasers, in a 
body, C, provision being made for easy removal, 
and for adjustments to and from the centre. 
Another class of die,D, used on some machines, 
has four or more cutting portions and is encircled 
by a clamp ring, so that the die may be closed 
in or allowed to expand in order to thread to very 
fine limits. Sharpening is easily done by means 
of a grinding wheel passing down the flat faces 
in the gaps. 

Machine Dies. The dies for use in ma- 
chines are much more elaborated than the taps. 
There are some dozens of different designs of these 
die-heads, as they are termed. But they nearly all 
have the property of adjustment, or sizing, to 
compensate for wear, and to work to minute 
limits of tolerance. Hence the mechanism in some 
is highly elaborated. In the simpler forms, used 
largely hi screw machines and turret lathes, a 
spring action is embodied, the dies being split as 
in 48, and encircled by a ring or collar by which 
they can be closed to a minute amount from time 
to time. In others, the closing hi or opening out 
is effected in a way which is regulated by gradua- 
tions, so that the diameter of the thread can be 
read on the edge or face of the holder. In more 
advanced designs provision is made for the 
automatic opening of the dies when a thread has 
been cut, in order to avoid the reversal and run- 
ning back of the die off the thread. These are 
self-opening dies a numerous group. In all, the 
flat chasers are used, of the style C in 48. All 
these make an interesting and wide study in 

Opening Die=heads. In the opening 
die-heads mechanism is included by which the 
chasers, usually four in number, may be suddenly 
drawn back from the thread, so that the head can 
be withdrawn by the turret in which it is held. 
This movement of the chasers is either a direct 
radial one, the chaser holders sliding in grooves, 
or a pivoting action is given, an example being 
shown here. A stop piece is provided, which is 
struck sometimes by the end of the work, 
sometimes by a part of the machine, to cause 
the chasers to fly open, under the pressure of a 
spring. When another thread has to be cut 
they are closed in again by hand, or auto- 
matically, and the cycle is repeated. Previous 
to the introduction of these time-saving die- 
heads, the direction of rotation of work in the 
screw machines had to be reversed, so that the 
head ran itself off the thread. 

The Tucker die, made by the Pratt & Whit- 
ney Company, may be taken as an instance of the 
pivoting type [49]. In the three views, A shows 
the outside elevation and B a section with the 
chasers dosed in, while C indicates the appear- 
ance when opened off the thread ; a is the shank, 
li-ld in the turret hole, and carrying a sleeve, b, 
which has a limited amount of sliding motion 

A ring, c, is fixed in any position on b by a set 
screw, and a long screw, d, in c projects out 
more or less as required, so that it may be struck 
by a portion of the machine when the turret 
has travelled up to the required distance. The 
result of striking d is that c is slid back, carrying 
with it b, which causes the dies to open, in the 
following manner. The chasers, e, are clamped 
with square-headed set screws, and adjusted 
with slotted head screws endwise in holders, / ; 
the latter are pivoted in a ring, and coiled 
springs are inserted in the holes below the slotted 
screws which adjust the chasers. The flat 
springs shown in black on the end of the body, a, 
serve to keep out dirt and cuttings. It will" be 
seen that as long as the sleeve, b, remains in the 
position shown at A and B, the dies are closed, 
ready for work ; but when the thread is finished, 
and the screw d struck, 6 is slid back and its 
bevelled end allows the ends of the chaser 
holders, /, to slip down, the coiled springs men- 
tioned causing the tilting action, the result 
being that shown at C. Reclosing is effected 
by sliding the ring, c, and sleeve, 6, back again 
to the position at A. 

Kinds of Taps. Leaving the sectional 
1brms of taps and dies, we note the longitudinal 
shapes of taps [50]. In taps operated by hand, 
two separate ones are required to cut a thread, 
and in some cases three. First, as the tap must 
enter a hole of the same diameter as the bottom 
of the thread, the lower portion of the tap is 
ground away to that diameter, thence tapering 
upwards until only about five complete threads 
are left at the top. This is the entering or 
taper tap [50], A. The next, or middle tap, B, 
has all its threads full, save four or five at the 
bottom, and this completes the thread, provided 
the hole is a thoroughfare one, so that the tap can 
run right through it by four or five threads. 
But if a hole terminates in a blank end the 
bottoming or plug tap has to finish. This has full 
threads to the end, C. The illustrations are those 
of American taps, in which the same proportions 
exist as in dies namely, narrow cutting arcs 
and wide spaces. English made ones have about 
twice the width of threads. Machine taps are 
longer than hand taps, often very long, and 
they are gripped differently. When very 
exact dimensions are required, expanding taps 
are sometimes employed, in which the cutters 
are capable of radial adjustment, similarly to 
those of the reamers. 

Saws. Saws include both scraping and cutting 
tools, whether we regard the action of individual 
teeth or their total action. It is seldom that 
the angle of front rake is less than 90 deg. it is 
usually more, the teeth leaning back, in most 
saws, until we arrive at the equilateral triangular 
form of the cross-cut and hack, or metal-cutting 
saws. Hence the material is removed as dust, 
except in the case of very wet stuff, when it be- 
comes somewhat stringy, but never approaches to 
the character of a shaving. Yet, viewed in one 
aspect, most saw teeth have a formation whjch 
causes their action to approximate to that of 
true cutting tools. All saws, except those used 


for metal, are sharpened at a bevel, by which 
friction is diminished, the saw cutting sweetly 
and attacking the material in an oblique line, 
with a resulting shearing operation. Thus, in 
51 and 52 bevelled lines represent the direction 
in which the file is held when sharpening the tooth 
faces, so that the tooth face meets the material 
like the iron of a skew-mouthed rebate plane, or 
like a turning chisel. Though the tooth is so 
thin, this bevelling exercises a very marked 
influence on the sweetness of the action of the 
saw teeth. 

Forms of Saw Teeth. There are 
various practical considerations which govern 
the sizes and forms of saw teeth. The main 
requisite to be fulfilled is that the teeth shall 
operate as freely as possible. As a general sum- 
mary, we may say that the harder the material 
the greater the backward slope of the faces of the 
teeth ; in technical language, the less rake present, 
and the finer the pitch or distance between teeth, 
relatively to the size of the saw, the less the set, 
or amount by which the teeth are bent to right 
and left of the plane of the blade. 

Teeth, when cutthig through wet wood, must 
have more set than those working in dry stuff, 
because the material removed is more apt to 
clog and hinder the saw's action, and they 
require larger pitch, which means more spacing 
in order to allow freedom for the dust to get 
away without choking. 

The Set of Saws. In many saws, espe- 
cially for metal, the set is imparted by a 
thinning back of the blade behind the teeth. 
Fig. 51 may be termed the hand saw type of 
tooth, varied in the slope of front and back rake, 
and in sizes of teeth. - It will rip, or cross-cut 
hard or soft wood, but is more suitable for the 
first kind than the second. For soft wood only, 
the front, a, of the teeth, should be nearer the 
upright position, and the backs might have more 
slope. The set seen in the plan [51] is slightly 
exaggerated, being suitable only for use in cross- 
cutting soft wcods. For ripping hard or soft 
woods its amount should be considerably less. 

Fig. 52 illustrates the teeth of circular saws 
for hard and soft woods. The teeth of A 
have little rake, those of B have. A has less set 
than B, and its sharpening angle is less, as in- 
dicated by the dotted lines. Note the large size 
of the gullets, which are necessary to permit free 
escape of the sawdust. Rapidly running saws, 
like circulars, require more space than the hand, 
or pit saws, or even the frame saws. 

Fig. 53 shows the blade saws, used as band saws 
and frame saws. A would be suitable for hard 
woods, B for soft. Fig. 54 illustrates two types 
of cross-cut, the triangular toothed A, and the 
M-toothed B, variations in which occur. < They 
scrape only, and operate equally well in both 

Saws are either rectilinear or continuous. 
To the first class belong the hand, tenon, bow, 
fret, compass, cross-cut, and kindred kinds. 
To the latter the band, circular, and cylin- 
drical forms, all of which are too familiar to call 
for any observations or illustrations. 



Group 22 



Construction and Peculiarities of the Instruments. Attitude 
of Placer. Fingerboard. Scales. Positions. Exercises 



The accordion, or melodeon, may be regarded 
as a large edition of the mouth-organ, its sounds 
a ok, lined much in the same way. It 
consists of a pair of oblong-shaped hand-bellows 
wit h seve"n or more folds. To the right side of the 
instrument is affixed a number of levers arranged 
in rows. Sometimes these keys are like the stops 
of a concertina. According to the make of the 
instrument, so there are 8, 10, 12, or 21 keys. 
ies these, there are three larger valves, 
known as the wind, accompaniment, and bass 
stops. In the largest variety there are 21 keys 
in t \\o rows. The upper series gives an irregular 
scale cf G major [Ex. 1]. 

An inverted v over a note implies that the 
bellows have to be drawn out. Notes without 
such a mark are obtained by pressing in the 
bellows. The lower series gives the scale of 
C major [Ex. 2]. 

Each key or lever sounds two notes. The 
first is produced when the bellows are pushed in, 
and the second when they are pulled out. The 
reason for this is that as each key is pressed a 
valve inside the hand-board is opened. Within 
the opening are two little tongues of metal, one 
>ent forward and the other backward. Accord- 
ing to the small or large size of the tongues, so is 
the pitch of the sound produced high or low. 
When a valve is opened and the air is compressed 

Ex. 1. 

Key of G. 

it causes one of these tongues, or reeds, to vibrate 
quickly, and its motion, magnified by a sound- 
board, causes the musical tone. Then, when the 
bellows are expanded, the other litttle tongue is 
made to vibrate by the opposite current of air. 
Thus the second sound is produced. 

The best way cf playing the accordion is to 
rest it upon the knee. By making a pivot of the 
knee, a pushed bass note and a pulled melody 
note may be sounded at the same time. Pass 
the right thumb through the loop provided for it. 
This leaves the other right fingers free to press 
the keys. Put the left hand on the other side: 
its chief duty is to work the bellows. According 
to the force used in pressing or drawing out the 
latter, so is the intensity of the tone regulated. 
It requires considerable skill to make a goojj 
crescendo or diminuendo. An overblown accordion 
sounds at its worst, whereas when played with 
even softness, it is often heard at its best. Place 
the second and third left fingers through the 
strap ; the left thumb can then press the wind 
stop. The bass valve is worked by the left little 


A B D D F V 

finger. It gives two deep notes, C gjL-J- wne n 
the Jtellpws are pressed in, and G below 7 the C 
when they are drawn out. The first 
left finger is used for the accompaniment stop, 
with 21 KEYS 

Ex. 2 

A A. 

C D 

C D 

fa 3. 

E F <; A 


D E F G 


A B C 


i i 


C B E 



ACCORDION with 10 KEYS Scale of C Major 


B B LB -LJ=/\ fca 

i fi 7 jm-<> ~m-&-~ r<>-'> 


This gives the chord of the sub-dominant of G 

when the bellows are pushed in Ehu^n and 
the chord of the tonic of G when hey are pulled 
out /v ^ , a couple of chords such as an 

organist in church usually employs for the 
" Amen/' 

The student who wishes to make the most of 
this instrument should peruse the course on 
Harmony [page 37], in order to avoid sounding 
the accompaniment and bass stops with wrong 
notes of the melody, as is done by unmusical 
street players. Nevertheless, the best of these 
instruments, when performed upon skilfully, 
are not without a certain artistic value. 
As a.n incentive for the non-musician to pre- 
pare himself to learn the English concertina, 
the accordion has been, and is, undoubtedly 

Before beginning to play, press the wind stop. 
This inflates the bellows. If they are already 
full, and a "drawn-out" note has to be sounded, 
press the stop to let some of the air escape. The 
bellows can then be further drawn out and the 
necessary notes obtained. 

Having given the notes for the accordion with 
21 keys, for the sake of reference we tabulate 
the scale of the smallest variety, that with 
8 keys [Ex. 3]. 

The scale of the accordion with 12 keys 
is given in Ex. 4. 

But the most popular style of accordion at 
present sold is the instrument with 10 keys. We 
have therefore reserved the fingering of its 
compass [Ex. 5] to the last. 

B means bass stop, A accompaniment stop ; 
if both letters occur together, both stops mast 
be used at tbe same time. 

As an exercise, in conclusion, the student 
who has followed these instructions carefully 
may practise with profit the quaint old country 
melody which is given in Ex. 6. Strict 
attention must, however, be paid to time. 


The English instrument has six finger-holes. 
From these three octaves and a half, with all 
the intermediate semitones, can be produced, if 
the student only knows how. 

The cheap flageolet can be bought in various 
sizes. They are all fingered alike, but the longer 
the tube the deeper the tone. Get the most 
usual size, marked " D." Its lowest note should 
be in tune with the D below treble staff. 

Cause of the Tone. Everybody is 
familiar with the tin whistle, but few understand 
that the whistle, in itself, has no sound. The 
plug of wood filling up most of the tube forming 
the mouthpiece serves to shape the breath into 
a thin flat sheet. This air strikes against the 
sharp lip, slightly bent in, of the aperture, 
the result being that the sudden contact brings 
about those pulsations or vibrations which 
produce the musical tone. Do not play the 
top notes with the right hand. The left hand 
must finger those nearest the mouthpiece, and 
the right hand the three lower notes. 

Place the left thumb behind the upper half of 
the tube and let the right thumb steady the lower 
half. Keeping the fingers off the holes, blow 
gently. This (in a "D" tube) sounds Cji, 
nearly an octave above the lowest D. Put down 
the first finger of the left hand. Blowing as 
before, the sound will be B, third line treble 
clef. Depress the second left finger to get A ; 
the third left finger for G below ; the first right 
finger for Fiji (in the key of D major); the 
second right finger for E ; and the third right 
finger for D. All the holes are now covered. 

Natural Notes. Now tackle the scale 
of D major, uncovering the holes successively 
and sounding the notes softly as the- scale is 
ascended. [Ex. 1.] 

After reversing the order of the six notes 
first played, to get the octave D above the lowest 
note, put down all the fingers excepting the first 
of the left hand. Blowing with somewhat more 
force, take off the third right finger as the first 
left finger is put down, the octave above the 
previous E sounded will be heard. To get FJJ, 
G, A, and B, uncover the notes exactly as before, 



1 - ' Ci__D 

i i ** 3 , , , __ - 1 -fSf 

E F; 




B C3 

i e-:i= 



JO " ~^s ^= S ^ = ^ I=: ^ f L ~\' ^ 


hut increasing the pressure of the breath. The 
reason for this increased pressure is that the air- 
motion inside the tube needed for a note of high 
pitch must be quicker than that for one of low 
pitch For the lowest note, the breath must 
, . as in the case of a string, the whole 
tube to pulsate in one large segment [see VIOLIN, 
page 2511]. By increasing the rapidity of the 
air, this segment splits itself up into two, and 
tlu- same etfect is obtained from a tube as from 
sounding only half the length of a string. For 
the octave above the Cjt sounded when all the 
holes were free, put down the second and third 
left fingers and the first right finger. 

To get the next note, D, two octaves above the 
lowest sound, lift the first right finger. For the 
E above, open the two centre holes, but put down 

Kx. 3. 

the first and second left, and second and third 
right fingers. To get the F~. two octaves 
above the first F>, put down the first and second 
left fingers and the first and second right fingers. 
For the G, two octaves above the first G, depress 
the first, second and third fingers and blow hard. 
Lastly, to obtain the highest note the instru- 
ment gives, cover the four centre holes, leaving 
top and bottom holes open. Thus, the ordinary 
flageolet easily sounds nineteen notes. The 
beginner whose ear is musical will soon learn 
them, especially if he gets the sound he wants 
well into his mind by referring to a piano or 
harmonium. These are called the natural notes 
of th- instrument. and suffice for the playing of 
ordinary tunes. If in earnest, the student may 
learn much on the tin \\histle. which will be 
helpful, should he desire, later on, to take up 
the fife or flute. After memorising the notes 
he u ill soon l>r able to play by ear " God 

the Km'.:. Ho me Sweet Home," and other 
i;miiliar melodies. Rather than wasting his leisure 

h ;i way, we would point nut tin- desirability 
of practising daily, in correct time, t-xe- 
whirh \\illfumiliiirisrhim with the fingering of the 
use, without such training, he 

BE hop.- to excel. | Ex. 2.] 

Iii this cxcn-is,- ,-ach note must he played 
distinctly and \\ith a separate In-rath. Do not 
hurry. The main point is to p|;-y slowly and 
Steadily, in correct time. Make each sound last 
luriiiL' H many tiek.s i-f a clock. Increase the 
speed gradually by diminishing the number of 


ticks, but avoid playing three or four notes 
quickly, then pausing to find out the next, and 
then making another rush. Next try playing 
several notes with one breath, so that they 
appear to be linked together by a slur. [Ex. 3.] 

Chromatic Scale. Ws now come to a 
greater difficulty, which ordinary players imagine 
is impossible of accomplishment on a flageolet 
without keys. It is to insert between the natural 
notes those sharps or flats necessary to enable 
the player to run up or down the scale by a series 
of semitones. This is done partly by difference 
in fingering and partly by the graduated force 
of the breath. If mastered, it enables the 
student to play in almost any key, and invests 
his instrument with musical attributes unknown 
to ordinary players. The student should, there- 
fore, not rest content until he has made himself 
thoroughly familiar with this fresh complication. 
Sound the low D as before, with the six holes 
covered, To get D $, blow a little more strongly. 
" Will " to get the half-tone above. The sound 
wanted will come. Take off the third finger for 
E. To get Ft, half a tone above, lift the 
second right finger, blowing softly. As the 
instrument is in D, and D major has two sharps, 
F and C, the next natural note will be FjT. Play 
that as before, by taking off the second and third 
right fingers. Sound the G as before by taking 
off the first right finger. For G J, take off the 
third left finger, as for A, but put down the 
first, second, and third right fingers, blowing 
softly. Sound the A by removing the three 
right fingers. 

To get A , take off the second left finger as 
for B, covering all the other holes. Sound B. 
To obtain C, take off the first left finger 
as for CJ, but put down the second left and the 
first and second right fingers. Play C> as 
before, with all the holes open, and D, an octave 
above the lowest sound, by closing all the vents 
excepting the top one. To get D %, do precisely 
as for the previous D jj. Make E,' F, F and G 
as before, altering the pitch by increased pressure 
of the breath. To get the G jt an octave above 
that first sounded, finger as for A, with the first 
and second right digits down; close the fourth hole 
with the first right finger. Sound the A as before. 

For the Ajj, an octave above the first AjT, 
linger as for B, with the first right finger down ; 
but put down also the third right finger. To 
get ' C , an octave above the first C , finger 
as for Cjj, with the second and third left 
fingers and first right finger down, but depress 
also the second right finger. Then take off the 



Ex. 1. 



latter for the C f. Take off the first right finger 
for the D. To get D *, put down the second and 
third right fingers, as for E, also the second and 
third left fingers. Then lower the first and 
second left fingers as before for the E. To 
obtain the F^ two octaves above the first 
F, put down the first and second left and 
first and second right fingers, and blow hard. 
Sound top G as before, with the first, second, 
and third left fingers. 

For G JT, two octaves higher than the first G , 
when all the notes were closed except the third, 
reverse the process by leaving all open except 
that hole. Lastly, sound top A as before. 

Exercises. Facility in playing chromati- 
cally cannot be gained all at once. But as 
the rules controlling the production from a 
simple pipe of the different sounds enumerated 
are governed by acoustical laws, they apply not 
alone to the flageolet, but to other tubular instru- 
ments proportioned in the same way. The 
sooner, therefore, the student familiarises him- 
self with them the better, although later, the 
necessary sharps or flats may be obtained more 
conveniently by keys. 


The musical student who has an opportunity 
of becoming the possessor of an English concertina 
may rest assured that it is well worthy of serious 
attention. It is no mere toy, as is too often 
supposed. Not only has the concertina great 
purity of tone, but it is capable of remarkable 
rapidity of execution, whether in single or double 
notes. Moreover, the simplicity of its fingering 
and power of crescendo and diminuendo are 
most effective. The English concertina, being 
furnished with a double action, produces the 
same note both on drawing out and pressing in 
the bellows. 

Not only is it capable of being played in any 
key, but in some ways it is superior to the 
pianoforte, owing to its power of sustaining and 
modulating the tone, its portability making it 
possible to be carried from place to place, and its 
smaller cost which places it within the reach of 
more pockets. Without difficulty the executant 
can negotiate intervals of thirds, sixths, 
octaves, tenths, and extended harmonies. At 
the same time it is capable of performing music 
written for the flute, hautboy, etc. 

A Minor Derangement. The only 
trouble this instrument is likely to give a player 
is v.-hen a note sometimes goes dumb. This is 

usually caused by a particle of dust getting 
between the frame and the vibrator. Loosen 
the six screws in the plate of the side which needs 
attention sufficiently to allow the action to 
be removed. Take out the action. The note 
will be easily discovered, as its name is stamped 
on the top of the frame. Displace the reed 
by drawing it from the groove. Hold it up to 
the light. The dust which interferes with the 
sound will be visible. Remove this with a pen- 
knife. In replacing the parts,, note that R 
and L stand respectively for the right and 
left hand. These letters must correspond 
with the R and L and number on the top of the 
pan to ensure correct adjustment. Observe the 
same figures in replacing the action. 

The complete concertina family consists of four 
instruments. First, we have the soprano, used 
Ex. 2. L 

B B 

for solo work, with a compass of thi'ee and a half 
octaves from fiddle G, two ledges lines below 
treble staff. The tenor, bass and double-bass 
concertinas extend the compass downwards, so 
as to make altogether six and a half octaves. 

Attitude. The concertina may be played 
either sitting or standing. To diminish the 
weight on the thumbs, especially with the larger 
patterns, a ribbon is secured to the middle 
buttons and carried round the neck. Be 
careful, when the instrument is played sitting, 
that the folds of the bellows do not rub against 
the clothes or dress. Place the left-hand side of 
'the instrument on the left knee. Each thumb 
must be passed as far as the first joint into the 
loop provided for it. If this is too tight, or 
too slack, regulate it by screwing or unscrewing 
the metal button. Place the fourth finger 
lightly in the finger rest. It should stop there 
except when, by moving it, the hand can assume 
an easier position while playing. Do not draw 
out or press in the bellows unless a key is 
touched. The pressing in and drawing out is 
done with the right hand. Force of sound depends 
on the degree of pressure or pulling applied. 

The beginner should practise his exercises at 
first with the least degree of force. It saves 
the wear of the instrument, and makes it almost 
inaudible in another room. To facilitate the 
pressing in or drawing out, rest the fleshy part 



of the hand against the instrument. The attitude 

, U,e ,, laver should be natural. Keep the 

pomtioc Of 'the arms easy. Never overforce the 

beUowi This produces a discordant sound, 

.! ., sometimes injurious to Ui- instrument. 

M d ,,n-s in steadily, in a stra.oht line. 

01 turn or twist the instrument. Cultivate 

,,t of pullinu out to the full extent, and then 

ling in without break in the sound. Do not 

chaJM? tin- d.rection of blowing in the middle 

^phrase. Exactly as the lungs act when 

nj so let the instrument take a fresh breath 

, and alter a passage. Utilise any rest which 

occurs for such inflation. Remember that lower 

notes require more reserve force than upper ones. 

Fingerboard. The system of fingering 

and position of the notes on the English cpn- 

oa niak.- it distinct from any other musical 

instrument, and give certain peculiarly artistic 

attributes. On either face there are four parallel 

rows of stops. The two centre rows are akin 

to the white keys, or naturals, on a piano, the 

outer, or first and fourth black rows, furnishing 

the sharps or flats. The C's, to distinguish them 

from the other notes, are coloured red, an idea 

probably borrowed from the harp. The treble 

Ex. 3. 

are on the spaces, whilst the bottom staff only 
those notes which are on the lines. 

Thus G is the lowest of the second column on 
the right hand, and A the lowest note negotiated 
by the second finger of the left hand. B is 
the lowest played by the second right finger ; 
C, the lowest played by the first left finger ; and 
so on, zigzagging from key to key. To run up 
a scale, therefore, the hands are used alternately, 
whereas, on a harmonium, one hand has to do 
the work alone. The difference in fingering 
thus between the two instruments is capable 
of producing quite different effects. Play the 
natural key of C [Ex. 2]. 

Chromatic Scale. The chromatic scale 
is important and needs daily repetition. Be 
careful to press each note equally, so as to 
obtain evenness of tone. Practise slowly. The 
student should observe that the concertina, 
unlike the piano, has separate notes for G $ and 
A?, and for D^ and EU. These are not 'tuned 
in unequal temperament, but are added in order 
to simplify the fingering. Therefore, when D$ 
or G jf is required, play the note next to Dj] 
or G. When A!? or E!? is needed, press that 
next to A fl orE. [Ex. 3.] 

iiina usually has 48 keys, comprising 

_'.' naturals and '23 accidentals. Now, when 

the thumbs are in the loops, the first finger 

latee the whole of the second column of 

keys, that digit being moved to the first row 

required. The second finger negotiates 

h- third row, and the third finger the fourth > 

The place of the little finger is, as has been' 

'.Mentioned, on its rest, except when it is used to 

simplify xet-ution. When sounding passages 

octaves, and tenths in sharp or flat 

keys, it is of particular service. Finger pressure 

be elastic and delicate, but firm. Do not 

thump the studs. Let the finger tips glide from 

ne note to another. 

ia. .-at., playing, however, raise the finger 

ly al>..v th- n->te. >,, that it may be struck 

id immediately released. In passages 

whieh are sinned, each note must be held down 

until the ne\t tinker i* ready, that there may be 

no break IM-UU-.-II op- sound and another. 

Scales. Tak- K\. 1. Here we give two 

M Allows only notes 

Although, as a general rule, each column of 
keys is manipulated by the same finger, certain 
effects are facilitated by repeating the same 
notes with different fingers. In such a case, 
keep the two fingers used for the change close 
together to avoid unnecessary movements. 

If artistically produced, the tremolo effect 
closely resembles the human voice. It should 
be done by making the finger quiver over the, 
note itself, and not by shaking the bellows. 

If the student forgets the place of any note, 
looking at the instrument itself is a bad habit. 
When the thumb is placed in a loop and the 
little ringer in its rest, the second finger of the 
right hand should drop upon the red note, C, 
and the second finger of the left hand upon B. 
Those two notes are useful guides o the beginner 
in finding the others, but the best way of 
impressing their position on the memory is for 
the student to make a diagram of the four columns 
of keys for each hand, adding to them the 
names of the notes. If he has this diagram before 
him, he will see at once the position of any key. 


, and Concertina concluded 


Necessity for Rich Milk and Pure Water. British and Foreign Cheeses. 
Processes Used in Making- Cheese. Rennet. The Uses of Bacteria 

Group 1 



continued from page 4281 

By Professor JAMES LONG 

A LTHOUGH our forefathers are often credited 
with great skill in the production of line 
cheese, we may take it for granted that, except 
perhaps in occasional instances, nothing was pro- 
duced in the past which can compare in quality 
with the finest cheese that is made to-day. This 
fact is owing to the formulation and compre- 
hension of principles. The reasons for the 
various operations are now known, and the 
maker is therefore placed in a position of control 
which enables him to conduct his work with 
much greater success and certainty. The object 
of the cheesemaker is to obtain a maximum 
quantity of cheese of high quality from a given 
quantity of milk ; but he cannot accomplish 
this, however extensive his practice, without 
recognising the principles involved. The pro- 
duction of good cheese depend;; upon the soil 
upon which the cattle feed, upon the quality of 
the milk, and the skill of the maker, especially 
in his control of temperature and acidity. 
Cows fed on soil rich in lime usually produce 
milk which contains a larger percentage of lime 
than is common in milk produced on other soils, 
for which reason the acidity of the milk is slightly 
delayed, while a variation in the temperature, 
of the quantity of rennet employed, and the 
work of manipulation are often necessary. 
Difficulties which arise owing to the richness or 
poorness of milk in mineral matter and fat 
are easily removed by those who have mastered 
the principles involved, but they present striking 
obstacles to those who have not. 

The Value of Rich Milk. To obtain fine 
cheese it is essential that the milk should be 
rich, a fact which has long been disputed, while 
quality also increases the yield. In the first 
place, then, rich milk produces a mellower 
cheese, for the reason that it contains more fat ; 
while next it adds considerably to the weight 
produced per gallon, for not only does an 
increased quantity of fat tell, bat with that 
increase, as we shall see later, there in also an 
increased appropriation of the casein and of the 
water employed. It has been estimated on the 
basis of exhaustive experiments that for each 
pound of fat present in milk the yield of cheese is 
increased to the extent of 2'7 lb. At the great 
American trials at Chicago, which were attended 
by the writer, the Jersey herd produced in one 
month cheese which was worth 11 more than 
that produced by a similar number of Shorthorns, 
although the latter breed is in England regarded 
as the best type of cow for cheese production. 

Pure Water. It is important that in 
the cheese dairy the water employed should be 
of the purest, and that the food supplied to the 
cattle, whether on the pasture or in the stall, 

should be absolutely free from anything likely 
to convey an undesirable flavour or odour to 
the milk. The cheese plant or equipment should 
be of the best modern construction, intended 
to facilitate the work and to present as little 
trouble and difficulty in cleaning as possible. 
On these points the intending cheesemaker may 
obtain many hints by paying a visit to the 
British Dairy Institute at Reading, the Midland 
Institute near Derby, or the Scottish Institute 
at Kilmarnock. 

Varieties. The principal varieties of cheese 
are set out in the table on the following page. 
Among minor varieties not referred to in 
the table are the Cotherstone (blue veined), 
the Slipcote (soft curd), the York (soft curd), 
the Caerphilly, the Dunlop cheese of Scotland, 
the Yorkshire cheese known as Liberton, the 
Wilts loaf cheese of Cheddar type, the blue 
skimmed milk cheese of Dorset, and a variety 
of local curd cheeses Avhich include the New 
Forest and the Colwick. In France there are 
many varieties, apart from those mentioned, 
including the Coulommiers, which resembles the 
( 'amembert, the Mont d'Or, the Gerome, all of 
which are soft varieties ; and the Livarot, a 
strong-: melling soft cheese made from skimmed 
milk. Germany, Denmark, Sweden, and other 
European countries, like America, have no special 
varieties of either pressed, blue, or soft cheese 
which are recognised upon the great markets 
of the world. 

The Action of Rennet. In beginning 
the process of cheese manufacture, it is essential 
first to coagulate the milk. In some cases the 
evening's milk is kept until the morning, when 
the morning's milk is added under condition:; 
which will be subsequently referred to. The 
milk having been brought to the required 
temperature usually in a jacketed vat and 
its volume ascertained, the requisite quantity 
of rennet is measured, mixed with four time^ its 
volume of water, and stirred in the milk. Where 
the evening's milk is kept until the morning, a 
slight amount of acidity will have developed, 
unless the temperature be low. As acid possesses 
a power of coagulation, it assists the rennet, and 
allowance must therefore be made on this score. 
The action of the rennet largely depends upon 
heat, for the quantity of rennet required is in 
an inverse ratio to the temperature of the milk, 
while within undefined limits the time of coagu- 
lation is in an inverse ratio to the quantity of 
rennet used. Thus, theoretically speaking, if 
one part of rennet converts 10,000 parts of milk 
at 95 F. into curd in forty minutes, it would 
coagulate one-tenth the quantity of milk in one 
tenth of the time, the same temperature being 



Till-' I'KlNTirVli VAKIKTIKS OF ( UK KM-, 





1 tloll. 


Casein, etc. Fat. 

Devices F. 

40-50 min. 
60 ,, 



Per ceul . 


Stiit-.n (blur veined) 
\\.-n-i.-yriiir (I'lnr reined) 



50 ., 
60 ,, 











lift - 






Casein, etc. Fat. 

Degrees F. 

Her cent. 

Per cent. 

Per rent. 

Gruyere (France and 
BwttMriand) .. .. 
Cnntal ( France) 


;}() min. 




K.|ii.f.>it (France) (blue 




Port tin Saint (France) 

(soft, sli-litly pVMMa) 
Brie (France) (soft) 

f;mi. iulicrt(F.-ance) (soft) 
NYiiiVliat.-l (France) (blue) 


2-4 hr. 




Pont tl' Eveiine (France) 



15 min. 

ill (France) (soft, 
part cream) 
Ivlain (roiintl lutch) 
( M:it Dutch) . . . . 
f';iiiMf~:in (Italy) 


15 min. 
20-30 ,, 





ii/ola (Italy) (Mm- 
\ .-iiii-d) 



44 28 


rd. P>ut \\v have to deal with proba- 
liilitirs. Thus, the larger volume of milk would 
retain its heat more perfectly than the smaller 
volume, hence practice does not exactly corre- 
.-|H.nd with theory. 

Coagulation. Milk is set at various 
ii -mperatures, in accordance with the variety 
of eheese to be made, as from 65 F. in small 
varieties made, from a mixture of milk and 
cream, to 95 F., which is adopted in the manu- 
facture of some of the pressed varieties. Rennet 
however, possesses very little activity below 
.:> K. The time occupied in the coagulation of 
milk, then, depends upon the temperature of 
tin- milk and the quantity of rennet employed. 
Tim-, a >mall quantity of rennet prolongs the 
peril <!. while a large quantity hastens it. These 
periods are further expanded in accordance with 
the tem|ier;itiire ,,f the milk. In making firm or 
ton \ minutes to two hours are 
luually oerupied ; lmt in making soft cheese, from 
t\\(. to fifty houix ma y I,., occupied. The higher 
the temperature, too. ;MM | t i, r smaller the curd is 
-ut. the more rapidly does it part Avith its whey ; 
while the lower the temperature, and the larger 
the curd is cut. the more slowly it drains. 
AHhoogb drainajre is promoted by cutting the 
tine iii the haul cheeses, such as Cheddar, 
Cheshire, l)ut<-h. ami Grnyere, all are inbee- 

quently pressed for the removal of the surplus 

whey or mom. Blue-veined cheeeee, like Stilton 

i/.ola. however. are not pressed, while 

1 letie-, of soft ehee-,,-. |JU,. . 
and Port du Salut. pn-x.-d but 

Cutting the Curd. The true 
soft cheeses, whether ripened or 
fresh, as Brie, Camembert, or 
York, part with their surplus whey 
by gravitation and evaporation ; 
and here heat plays an important 
part, for unless the dairy employed 
be sufficiently warm the serum is 
held by the curd and the cheese 
spoiled ; while if too warm the 
whey drains too freely, and the 
cheese becomes dry and inferior. 
The finer the curd is cut the largei 
the area of drainage. In the best 
varieties the curd is cut into cubes 
by the aid of two many-bladed 
knives, one horizontal, the other 
vertical. The whey is therefore 
induced to exude from each face 
of each cube, thus forming as it 
were by contraction a toughened 
coat, which largely prevents the 
remainder of the whey leaving the 
curd. When heated, however, as 
it usually is within the large 
volume of whey which has 
already collected, this whey is in 
large part removed, for heat 
assists the process of drainage. 
In making soft cheese, the tender 
curd is handled as little as pos- 
sible ; such cheese contains more 
moisture than pressed cheese, and 
care is thus taken to prevent its loss. The 
presence of more moisture in soft cheese means 
also the presence of more sugar, which is the 
chief cause of its more rapid fermentation. 
Where the temperature is too low, an excess 
of whey is retained in the curd, carbonic acid 
gas is formed, and the cheese swells and spoils. 
This especially applies to Stilton and other 
unpressed varieties. 

The small cheesemaker often fails to produce 
high quality on account of the small volume of 
milk with which he has to deal. He is unable, 
unless very highly skilled, to maintain the heat 
necessary to perfect coagulation ; nor is he often 
assisted by a perfect dairy apartment, the 
temperature of which he is able to control. In 
making cheese on a large scale, it should be 
possible to maintain a temperature of 65" F., 
while in a small dairy the average temperature 
should scarcely be less than 70 F. 

Quantity of Rennet Required. Rich 
milk requires less rennet than poor milk, 
hence the importance of knowing the fat per 
centage. The quantity of rennet required and 
the time of coagulation vary with the tempera 
ture of the dairy, and therefore with the season 
and climate, which so largely control it. This, 
too, is the reason why more rennet is required in 
spring than in summer r,nd autumn. It is essen 
tial that rennet should be carefully kept, that 
its strength may be maintained, and that the 
same variety should always be employed a 
standard rennet being that in which one part 
coagulates 1,000 parts of milk in a given 
time at a given temperature. It should be 

remembered, however, that as cows which have 
calved in spring fall off in their yield, their 
milk increases in quality, so that an altera- 
tion in the quantity of rennet employed may 
be necessary. Again, as lactic acid, which 
possesses the power of coagulation, forms more 
quickly in warm weather, there is a further 
influence which bears upon the quantity of 
rennet employed. 

How and When to Remove Curd. 
In cutting or removing curd from the cheese- 
vat or tub, great care must be taken. It must 
not be cut too soon or too late, or roughly 
handled. If the tube of a glass thermometer be 
dipped in the curd, small particles will adhere 
if it is unfit ; but if ready to cut and remove 
the tube will come out clean. If the curd has 
passed the proper period for cutting it will 
fracture, and whey will collect. As curd for 
pressed cheese is cut fine, as already remarked, 
that intended for unpressed and soft cheese, 
on the contrary, is removed in large layers or 
slices by the aid of hollow, plate-like metal 
.skimmers. Dry curd, not the production of 
fine cutting, may be obtained, as in the manu- 
facture of Stilton, by slightly longer coagulation 
and by the removal of large slices of curd 
at the right moment into cloths laid in suit- 
able draining vessels [32], the cloths being 
subsequently tied from corner to corner, and 
tightened gently from time to time [33]. The 
temperature of the curd should exceed 70 F. 
If largo pieces of curd are left after fine 
cutting, the presence of the whey within them 
will cause local fermentation, swelling, and 

Avoidance of Skimmed MilK. The 
employment of skimmed, milk is fatal to both 
quality and quantity of cheese. In the manu- 
facture of Cheddar, 1-13 Ib. of fat should be 
present per Ib. of casein ; the proportion of fat, 
indeed, should never be below the proportion 

(From the Journal of the Royal Agricultural Society) 

of casein. There is, too, a greater loss of fat in 
the making where skimmed milk is used at all. 
[f cream be added to new milk, the loss of fat 
is diminished, while the weight of the cheese is 
increased by more than the weight of the 
increased solids added. 


Source of Rennet. The rennet em- 
ployed in cheese manufacture is an extract from 
the mucous membrane of the fourth stomach or 
" veil " of the milk-fed calf. No other material 
known to man can be employed for the same 
purpose in cheese production. Rennet is always 
reliable in action if pure and its strength main- 


(From the Journal of the Royal Agricultural Society) 

tained ; it not only coagulates milk, but it helps 
to ripen the cheese, and unless it be imperfectly 
made, as we have seen it in Italy, where 
macerated pieces of the actual stomach of the 
calf are sometimes employed, it is never hurtful 
to cheese. Although occasionally made on the 
farm, rennet is now a standard product of com- 
mercial manufacture. It is sold in liquid, tablet, 
and powdered forms, the first-named being the 
most simple and reliable ; but its strength or 
quality varies in accordance with the make. 
The cheesemaker having selected a variety, 
should adhere to it, or he may spoil a batch of 
cheese. The coagulating power of rennet is 
affected by soda and other alkalis. Below^ 
50 F. rennet produces no normal coagulation ; 
between 100 F. and 108 F. its action is 
quickest, while from 108 F. to 122 F. the period 
of coagulation increases, partially losing its 
influence at the latter temperature. If we use 
too much rennet for a given quantity of milk, 
or adopt too high a temperature, the resulting 
cheese is tough ; if we use too little, or adopt too 
low a temperature, the curd becomes too tender, 
the fat is lost, and the quality of the cheese 
diminished. The loss of fat is denoted by the 
whitish character of the whey, which should be 
clear and of a greenish tint.. 

Proportions of Rennet to be Used. 

It is important that rennet should be accurately 
measured, and either the ounce or the cubic 
centimetre (c.c.) may be employed. The latter 
is almost imperative in making soft cheese,but it 
is, under all circumstances, superior to the former. 
A measuring glass divided into hundredths 
should be used. There are 1,000 c.c. to a 
litre (10 litres = 2-2 gallons). If we take 1 c.c. 
of a standard rennet, therefore, and add it to 
a litre of milk at a temperature of 95 F., it will 



ilate in four minutes assuming that the 
temperature i- maintained constant; similarly. 
III.IHMI o.e. (-2-2 gallons) will coagulate in 
fort\ minute.-. The principle involved in these 
iiu'ures should be es]>e< ially recognised, but in all 
torti a eura' y i- impossible unless the tern- 
me of the milk l>e controlled. If the time 
occupied in such a test be live minutes, instead of 
tour minute-, it i> proof that the rennet is not of 
indard quality, but that 1 c.c. is capable of 
coagulating only 800 c.c. of milk; so that in 
practice it we employ it in our work we shoul'd 
require not 1 c.c. per thousand, but 1 c.c. 

Value of Acidity. Acidity is impera- 
tive in cheesemaking, for upon it depends 
not only flavour, but mellow or salvy consis- 
tence. Acidity develops more freely in curd 
than in whey, but in practice it is whey that is 

I The proportion of acidity in the whey 
i- iw.u ascertained, and in the West of England 
experiments of Mr. Lloyd the best results were 
obtained when they contained '22 per cent, of 
acid, as indicated by the particular method of 
te-ting which he employed. Excess of acid is 
fatal to quality in most varieties of cheese, but 
it is largely owing to deficiency that causes 
cheese made in spring to be inferior to that 
made later, for acidity is developed by heat. 

In the manufacture of pressed cheese, like 
< heddar or Cheshire, acid is developed by heating 
or " scalding " the curd and whey in the vat to 
a higher temperature. Where the curd is slowly 
formed, the acid present i.s larger in quantity ; 
hence the excess of acid in tender curd which 
hold- the uhey longer than curd which is drier. 
In the manufacture of .such a refined soft cheese 
uuembcrt acidity is especially needed, as 
the moulds or fungi which are essential in the 
ripening process grow more freely upon the crust. 
A- the moisture of this cheese evaporates during 

i it ion. the ///,, /////_ a network which is 
comparable to the tiny rootlets of a green or 
hlorophyll-containing plant penetrates the 
*md and neutralise.-, tlu- acidity, \\ith the result 
that the bacteria present are able to begin their 
\\oik of decomposition, and the practical con- 
VCIHOU ,,f , t n insoluble to a soluble material. In 

which i- drier than is necessary, there is 

idity I'ceause the sugar, the great medium 
through which it is produ.ed. has largely escaped 

m the \\hev. 

Scalding. The < 'heddar manufacturer pro- 

the development of acidity by the addition 

our whey to the ,,iilk .- but' this plan is not 

ntial daring normal eheesemakirm ueather 

"i When the temperature ,,t the dairy is under 

: Acidity may be developed in the 

"Ik. ;<nd thia development may be 

1 ;. t '" 1 rj by Scalding the mas, 

1 "lanutacture. In 8 p r i ng or 

; '">' '"7-""" "> the temperature' is 
'"'rniully lmv sour whey may be ,,., 

though scalding be resorted to; but in all 
dlow ance ,,, be made for the increas. 
ingriohneas oi the milk as the season advances 

manufacture largely 

"l"' oleanlineaa and the conBequenl 


prevention of the introduction into the milk of 
foreign or destructive bacteria, which are not 
only the cause of ill flavour and bad texture, 
but of abnormal decomposition and decay. This 
i.s particularly noticeable in the production of 
Stilton. In the manufacture of Camembert 
cheese, for example, it is practically proved that 
three varieties of bacteria are essential to success, 
while their activity and perfection of the cheese 
depend upon the presence of sufficient acidity. 

Blue Mould. Again, there are many 
varieties of cheese, chiefly those which are 
pressed but slightly or not pressed at all, upon 
or within which the successful growth of fungi 
is necessary, and we may especially refer to 
Camembert, Brie, Coulommiers, a,nd Neufchatel 
among soft cheeses, and to Stilton, Wensley- 
dale, Gorgonzola, and Roquefort among blue- 
veined cheeses, in which the blue mould, 
Penicillium glaiicum, plays a most important 
part. The spores or seeds of these parasitic 
plants are apparently present in the atmosphere 
of every milk-room, whether perfectly clean or 
the reverse. They find the curd of milk a suit- 
able soil ; but their successful culture depends 
upon moisture, air, and sufficiency of heat. 
They are practically excluded from growth in 
pressed cheese by the pressure which is exerted, 
while in cheese like Stilton, which is composed of 
pieces of unpressed curd, between which there 
is no real union, interstices are formed which 
leave room for the development of the spores. 
Varieties of soft cheese, such as those already 
mentioned, first develop a white, velvet-like 
fungus, which is followed by the blue, and in the 
Brie in particular by patches of a vermilion 
mould, believed to add to the piquancy of the 

How Fat Affects the Weight. With 
reference to the influence of the solids of milk 
on cheese production, it should be pointed out 
that, as the result of experimental work of a most 
extensive character conducted at the stations in 
the States of New York and Wisconsin, it was 
found that with every increase of one pound of 
fat there was an increase of '60 of casein and albu- 
men and of one pound of water. When rich milk 
was employed, the percentage of solids extracted 
from the milk in the process of cheesemaking was 
larger than when it was poor in quality. The 
fat lost when the richest milk was used wa? 
17 per cent,, while it reached '49 per cent, when 
cheese was made from poor milk, the average 
being -29 per cent., or 6 per cent, of the total 
fat. The quantity of casein and albumen lost 
under similar conditions was equal, on the 
average, to 23 "3 per cent, of the total. On the 
basis of the work of one year, too, it was found 
that the green or unripe cheese produced per 
100 Ib. of milk was equivalent to the weight of the 
fat present in that milk multiplied by 2'75. 
Thus, if the milk contained 4 per cent, of fat, 
I'M) Ib., or 10 gallons of milk, produced eleven 
pounds of cheese, while where the milk con- 
tained 3 per cent, of fat, which we may take 
as a fair average of the cows of our country, the 
cheese produced would reach JHilb. 


Distribution of Land and Water and its Effect. Climate and Temperature. 
Winds. Mountains and Rivers. Plains and Soils. Coasts and Tides 

Group 13 




Following on 


survey of the world has brought out its 
great diversity. Few regions, if any, yield 
abundantly all that is required for the develop- 
ment of the highest civilisation. Commercial 
geography deals with the struggle of. man to win 
subsistence in such a world. This he does partly 
by adapting himself to his environment, whether 
harsh or genial, and partly by attempting to 
modify that environment to suit his needs. One 
of his efforts in the latter direction is commerce, 
which seeks to equalise the distribution of 
useful commodities. 

Two factors must be considered, the geo- 
graphical and the human. The first deals with 
permanent geographical conditions, the distribu- 
tion of sea and land, of heat, cold and moisture, 
which man can do little to modify. The second 
is concerned with man's increasing power of 
availing himself of the possibilities they offer. 

The Land of the World. Only two- 
sevenths of the Earth's surface consists of land. 
Only two-sevenths, therefore, is fitted for the 
permanent home of man. The remaining five- 
sevenths consists of seas and oceans, at first 
a barrier, but often later a pathway to better 
conditions of existence. 

The known lands of the world are about 
52,000,000 sq. miles in area. Of this about 
twelve-thirteenths is grouped into two immense 
islands the Old and New World. Australia 
unts for nearly three-quarters of the re- 
nder. By far the greater proportion of the 
land lies in the Northern Hemisphere. This 
results in a considerable extension from north to 
south, giving a complete series of climatic zones 
and consequently of economic products. It 
brings the land portions of the world into 
r proximity by contracting the breadth of 
he oceans between them. 

The bulk of the land lies in temperate latitudes. 
With the exception of Greenland and a possible 

.tarctic continent, little land lies within the 
blar circles. No part of the mainland of Europe 
hes the tropics, and no part of the mainland of 
reaches the equator, which crosses only 
two continents Africa and South America. 
The dissection of tropical Asia into tapering 
peninsulas separated by wide seas, and the 
hollowing lout of tropical America by the Ameri- 
can Mediterranean, considerably reduces the area 
of the tropical lands. 

The Influence of Climate. Of the 
factors affecting the distribution and develop- 
ment of the human race, climate is the 
most important. This is not because man is 
hypersensitive to extremes of heat and cold. 
On the contrary, he has a wider climatic range 
than any other living creature. The check 

operates indirectly through the great climatic 
sensitiveness of plants, on which both man and 
animals depend for subsistence. 

Plants, which are fixed to the soil, have less 
power of adaptation than animals, which can 
move from place to place, and which, along with 
this mobility, and perhaps as a consequence of it, 
have developed great variability. Each family 
of plants is exacting in its demands. Tropical 
fruits, some of which for example, the banana 
form the mainstay of large societies, require 
a high temperature to ripen them. Some, such 
as the coco-nut palm, prefer in addition 
proximity to the sea. The olive, a characteristic 
Mediterranean fruit, not only requires a rather 
hot summer, but cannot bear winter frosts. 
Hence it cannot be grown in Lombardy, where 
the summer temperature would suit it admirably. 
Maize needs a hotter summer than wheat, which 
in turn is less hardy than rye or barley. Not 
even the latter will ripen below a certain summer 
temperature, and within the Arctic circle the 
vegetable kingdom is represented chiefly by 
mosses and lichens. Still nearer the Pole even 
these disappear. Other plants require special 
conditions of moisture. Cereals are more 
sensitive to excess or defect of moisture than 
grasses, which thrive in regions too wet and too 
dry for the former. Rice, which needs swampy 
or flooded soil, suits hot damp climates, but 
cannot be grown in the hot dry climate which 
brings the date to perfection. Each group of 
economic plants therefore has a definite geo- 
graphical range, a circumstance which influences 
not only the distribution of man, but even the 
type of civilisation within a given area. 

Temperature : The Hot and Cold 
Lands. Temperature, one of the chief 
elements in climate, varies with distance from 
the equator and with distance from the sea-level 
that is, with latitude and elevation. 

The relation between latitude and climate 
has already been considered. [See page 293.] 
Here it is sufficient to recapitulate the main 
climatic divisions as determined by latitude. 

1. Intertropical lands, hot all the year round. 

2. Warm temperate lands, with hot summers 
and mild winters. 

3. Cool temperate lands, with warm summers 
and cool or cold winters. 

4. Polar lands, with long cold winters, and 
short cold summers. 

The intense heat and moisture of tropical 
lands favour the growth of dense forests, but 
are not well suited to agriculture. Owing to 
the density of vegetation arid the fatigue 
attending exertion in a hot climate, the 
initial difficulty of clearing the soil is great. 



When cleared the soil is fertile, but without 
Lttan it quickly relapses into 
,!,. wild state. Deserted clearings in the 
tropical forest are overgrown by jungle in a sur- 
pri-in<'ly she.rt time, and the excessive heat and 
mo.sture an- demoralising to many temperate 
plants, which run riot in stem and leaf without 
maturing root and fruit. The influence on man 
is equally marked. The enervating climate is 
unfavourable to steady industry, and the reeking 
-nil l.iv, Is many diseases. For these and other 
reasons tropical lands rarely develop high types 
of civilisation. 

In the Polar regions the long cold winters and 
the protracted darkness make agriculture im- 
possible. Man contrives to exist far beyond 
the northern limit of cereals, but he is stunted 
in body and his energies are absorbed in the 
struggle for existence. On the margin of the 
Polar region the long summer daylight permits 
almost continuous growth, and greatly reduces 
the period between germination and ripening. 
This gives the cereals a greater Poleward range 
than would otherwise be the case. 

In the temperate lands the seasons are 
regular. The summers are not too hot or the 
winters too long and cold for cereals and other 
useful plants to survive. Thus there is a con- 
tinuity of effort which ensures progress. The 
inhabitants of the temperate lands are the 
most highly endowed physically and mentally, 
and have founded all the great civilisations of 
the world. 

Climate and Elevation. The relation 
bet \\ ecu temperature and elevation has already 
been explained. A rise of 300 ft. above sea- 
level corresponds with a fall of 1 F. in tem- 
perature. Climate, as determined by latitude, is 
tints greatly modified by elevation. Temperate 
and Polar conditions may exist in tropical lands 
at a sufficient height. Elevation is sometimes 
advantageous, and sometimes the reverse. In 
the Andes many flourishing cities are found 
d thousand feet above sea-level. Here 
elevation acts beneficially, affording more favour- 
able conditions than the hot, unhealthy lowlands 
ot the coast. The nearer we go to the equator 
the higher can human settlement be pushed; 
the further we go from the equator the nearer 
\el must man make his home. In tropical 
land- the existence of highlands may increase 
the area suitable for settlement; intemperate 
lands it almost inevitably contracts it. This 
i- \\i-ll -een in Kraner. \\hcrethe Central Plateau 
ha- a in. -re sprinkling of inhabitants though the 
-Hi-rounding lo\\ lands are thickly peopled. 

Rainfall. The second climatic factor is 

the distribution of rainfall. Many fertile regions 

ninhabitrd hrrau-.- they are rainless. Such 

ither remote from'thc sea. the ultimate 

:.iin. or in the l-v of mountains, \\hieh 

inteiv.-|,t the rainy winds, or in the track of dry 

\\inds. Somr of the dri.T regions an- jrrass 

lands, but the most arid are de-n t ,. cx.-rpt \\her-- 

i'Tij: rt, when irrigated, are 

i.tionally fertile, because the chemical 
Min-iiu tioiu \vhieh plants build up their 
ft hav not I mi \\ashcd out of the soil 


by rain A typical area of this kind is the Great 
Basin of Utah, where irrigation, round Salt 
Lake City, has converted the desert into a 

In some regions the rainfall is excessive. 
Even in our own country cereals do not do well 
in the wetter west. The wettest place in the 
world is the Khasi Hills of Assam, where over 
400 in. of rain fall annually. In such regions 
only very special forms of agriculture are possible. 
The Distribution of Rain. Not less 
important than the total rainfall is the manner 
of its distribution over the year. In many dry 
regions a long drought is followed by torrential 
rains, which are wastefully expended in flooding 
the watercourses for a few hours, leaving them 
empty soon after. Regular distribution is 
necessary, as well as a sufficient total precipita- 
tion. This may be either fairly uniform through- 
out the year, as in our own country, or uniform 
at certain seasons, as in the Mediterranean, 
where nearly all the rains fall in winter. In the 
latter case a different type of agriculture results. 
The evergreen trees of Southern Europe are 
fitted to resist the long drought of summer. 
The dry autumns bring the vine and other fruits 
to perfection, and count as one of the climatic 
advantages of the region. 

While the average distribution of rainfall has 
been worked out for the more settled parts of 
the world, it is liable to fluctuate from year 
to year. Some years are exceptionally wet, 
and others exceptionally dry, and these wet 
and dry years may occur in short or long 
cycles. Exceptionally wet and dry seasons are 
both injurious to crops, and the former may 
cause floods, and consequent loss of life. Of 
the two, drought is generally the more dangerous 
to life, especially in the regions where the 
rainfall is at no time abundant. The failure 
of the monsoon in the drier parts of agricultural 
India means famine, in which the loss of life 
may amount to millions. In the agricultural 
regions of North America, where wheat is grown 
for export by a relatively thin population, it 
results all over the wheat-importing area in the 
rise of the price of food, and, consequently, of 
the price of labour and of commodities in general. 
In the pastoral lands of the New World and 
Australia it seldom results in the loss of human 
life, but millions of stock may perish. 

The Track of the Winds. The relation 
of rainfall to continental and oceanic climates 
has already been explained on page 300. The 
windward shores of islands and continents 
receive rain from moisture-laden winds which 
have crossed the ocean. These winds become 
drier as they pass inland, and have, therefore, 
less moisture to precipitate as rain. The interior 
of all continents is much drier than their mar- 
ginal areas. A typical continental climate is dry 
as well as extreme. A typical oceanic climate is 
humid as well as ei (liable. [See maps, page 295.] 
The above results are due to the action 
of winds, which exercise great influence on 
climate. Our own islands lie in the track of the 
westerly winds, which blow strongly all the year 
round, but especially in winter. The desert of 

Sahara lies in the track of the dry trade winds. 
On a smaller scale, great importance attaches to 
local winds. The daily land and sea breezes of 
seaside places are a familiar illustration. Many 
others might be found. The traveller in Italy 
dreads equally the tramontana from the Alps, and 
the sirocco from the desert. The mistral, or cold 
Alpine wind, of the Rhone valley prevents the 
cultivation of the orange and lemon, though 
these ripen in the neighbouring but sheltered 
Riviera. The chinook winds of the western 
prairies of North America are warm winds, 
before which snow disappears as if by magic, 
enabling the farmer to begin operations much 
earlier than would otherwise be possible. Similar 
winds in the Swiss valleys are expressively called 
snow-eaters. Winds of the same type blow 
during harvest in New Zealand, and do great 
damage by shaking the grain from the full ear 
before it is cut. A spell of such winds may 
mean the ruin of the harvest. The cold winds 
from the Mongolian Plateau make the winters of 
Northern China very severe, and occasionally 
cause frosts at Shanghai. 

The Effect of Mountains. Elevation 
affects climate in other ways than merely by 
reducing the temperature. The position of the 
highlands helps to determine the rainfall of the 
regions on either side. When moisture -laden 
winds approach mountains they are deflected 
upwards, a,nd, becoming cooled, drop part of their 
moisture as rain, passing on as drier winds." The 
windward slopes of mountains are therefore much 
wetter than the leeward. This difference is well 
illustrated in the western and eastern slopes of 
the Pennines of our own country. The south- 
Avest monsoon strikes the Western Ghats, which 
are very wet, while the Deccan peninsula above 
has a deficient rainfall. The same monsoon 
brings heavy rains to the southern slopes of the 
Himalayas, while the northern slopes towards 
Central Asia are arid. Desert areas are often 
found in the lee of mountains, as in the desert 
of Central Asia, or of Western North America. 

The advantages of a mountainous region, 
though less obvious than the disadvantages, 
are not less real. Mountains are the great 
reservoirs from which rivers are fed. This 
is specially important in dry regions. In 
the drier parts of Asia the villages are in the 
mountain valleys, because there only is water 
abundant. When mountains are high enough 
for the formation of snowfields and glaciers, 
a permanent supply of water in the hot summer 
months is assured. The glaciers of the Hindu 
Kush feed the Oxus, which brings life to the 
deserts of Russian Turkestan. The higher the 
mountain the steeper and swifter are the 
mountain streams, and the greater is the load of 
sediment they carry. Mountains are thus great 
soil factories, from which rivers obtain the raw 
materials out of which fertile lowlands are built 
up. The Abyssinian Highlands have furnished 
the raw materials of Egypt, the Alps that of the 
plain of the Po, the Himalayas that of the plains 
of Bengal. The higher the mountains the 
more likely is it that extensive and fertile low- 
lands will be formed at their base. 


Rivers rising high have swift currents, which 
make them useful as sources of power. The 
sluggish rivers of the English Midlands are almost 
useless for this purpose, while innumerable 
Alpine valleys obtain cheap electric power 
from the torrents that rush down them. Such 
regions may develop flourishing industries, as 
in the valleys of the Jura or the Black Forest. 

The Treasures of the Mountain. The 
wet windward slopes of mountains are usually 
densely forested, and the timber is easily trans- 
ported by the streams. Equally valuable are 
the minerals in which most highlands abound. 
Mountains are formed by the crumpling up of 
the earth's strata into folds. The upper strata 
are then gradually worn away and deep valleys 
cut by the action of weather, ice, or running 
water, so that the inner strata are exposed. 
This often brings valuable minerals to the surface. 
In the Pennines the layers younger than the 
coal measures have been worn away, exposing 
rich coalfields on both flanks. In Southern 
England, where the strata have not been folded 
and elevated in the same way, the coal measures 
are buried miles deep and cannot be worked. 
The silver mines of the Andes, the mineral 
wealth of the Rockies or the Urals illustrate 
the importance of minerals in highland regions. 
One of the most widely distributed useful 
minerals is building stone which, as in the case 
of the marbles of the Apennines, or Greece, 
may be valuable for its beauty. 

Mountains are often useful in keeping off 
hurtful winds. The open plains of North 
America, which stretch almost unbroken from 
the Arctic Circle to the Gulf, are often swept 
by icy Polar gales, and the orange groves of 
Florida may be ruined by frost. The French 
and Italian Riviera, on the other hand, are 
sheltered from cold north and east winds by 
the Alps and Apennines. Oranges and lemons 
ripen out of doors and the air is fragrant with 
flowers. To this fortunate situation is due the 
prosperity of the innumerable health resorts. 

The Influence of Slope. Slope deter- 
mines the direction of rivers and their commercial 
value. Those following the short slope tend 
to be short and swift, those 
of the long slope to be longer, , 
slower, and better fitted for 
navigation. This is well seen 
in the Andes, from which no 
river of importance flows west 
into the Pacific, while the 
great Amazon flows east to 
the Atlantic. If mountains 
are centrally situated, great 
rivers may flow in many direc- 
.tions. From the St. Gotthard Alps the Rhine 
flows to the North Sea, the Rhone to the 
Mediterranean and the Ticino to the Adriatic. 

Slope is important in another way. The 
diagram shows that on the slopes facing the 
sun the sun's rays fall more nearly vertically 
than on the level, and consequently have a 
greater heating power. This explains why, in 
many parts of Central Europe, southern slopes 
of the hills are terraced Avith vineyards. In the 



Southern Hemisphere tin- northern slopes aiv 
tlius planted. 

Tin- etfect i if slope on a large scale is seen in the 

contrast betueen valleys opening north and 

Kvery traveller across the St. Gotthard 

notes the contrast between the valleys on the 

and Italian slopes. In the latter the snow 

line and tree line are much higher, and the 

chotnut, niullK-rry. olive and vine are cultivated 

, onsiderable height. 

Finally, as we saw, highlands may be advan- 
tageous in tropical lands by lifting large areas 
above the unhealthy climate of the plain. This 
i> the ease in South Africa, where only the 
highlands above the fever line, which reaches as 
high as 4,000 ft., can be inhabited by Europeans. 
A much greater range of products can also be 

Mountains and Passes. The obstacles 
to communication presented by mountains are 
very obvious. To the physical labour of 
ascent, which narrow precipitous valleys, deep 
unfordable rivers and dangerous glaciers may 
render very great, are added, in the case of 
the higher mountains, the sufferings due to 
intense cold, high winds, and the difficulty of 
breathing the highly rarefied air. Mountains 
frequently form a barrier between two countries, 
especially when the routes across them are 
difficult. They hinder commercial intercourse 
by increasing the time and the cost of transport. 
The former consideration is so important that 
costly engineering works, such as tunnels 
through the Alps, ultimately pay for themselves 
by the economy of time effected. 

The amount of resistance to communication 
olVered by a mountain range depends on the 
height not of the peaks but of the passes. .It 
matters little how high the peaks on either side 
rise if the pass or depression between them be 
low. A second important point is whether a 
pass can be found which enables the entire 
system to be crossed. Hence the importance 
of such Alpine passes as the St. Gotthard and 
the Mrenner. Other things being equal a rail- 
way will tend to take a route where a single 
pass only need he negotiated, as in the trans- 
continental line from the Argentine into Chile, 
\\lierr the namnving Andes can be crossed by pax. the CiimKre or Uspallatu. 

The command of the passes means the control 

of the region. For this reason Switzerland 

fortifies the St. < milliard, and Britain must retain 

utrol of the Kliaibar route from the plains 

"f India into Afghanistan at any cost. 

Hardships among the Mountains. 

Highland unions are. excepi under exceptional 

tiona, thinly populated. The lower tem- 

;lt "-. am! especially the longer and colder 

"inter, are unfavourable i,, agriculture and 

-" may be good in summer the 

la IIIIIM generally be drive,, to lower 

' winter. The heavy rainfall 

'<"< "t the mountain streams 

rapidly denude ,[ ,[,,,. n f S() j K S() ((|;it f()] . 

t-M-iii of terracing, always a 

'aborioua r generally necessary 

filler i., the Alp* will remember .lie 

tiny terraced gardens, banked up with stones, 
a pathetic witness to the hardship of the moun- 
taineer's life. The terraced olive yards of the 
Mediterranean represent centuries of unremitting 
labour. Perhaps the most striking example, is 
seen in the high valleys opening to the upper 
Oxus or Indus, where bare mountains, stripped 
of soil, slope precipitously to raging torrents. 
After every flood the hill folk climb down to the 
confluence of the nearest side valley to gather 
up a basketful of soil, out of which they build 
up terraces of soil on the rocky hillside. In 
this way little villages win a hard subsistence 
at great heights among the bleak mountains of 
Central Asia. But the amount of labour ex- 
pended is evidently incommensurate Avith the 
result, and, though mountain dwellers are 
generally strong and enduring, they remain a 
frugal people without those more complex needs 
which make for progress. 

This suggests another reason for mountains 
acting as barriers. They are infertile and thinly 
peopled. The Northern Highlands of England 
were thus, though not high, an effective barrier 
between England and Scotland till population 
became dense on the northern coalfields. 

The Influence of Rivers, Mountain 
and river are almost correlative terms, and in 
considering the influence of mountains we have 
incidentally considered in part that of rivers. 
Like that of mountains this influence is mixed, 
sometimes co-operating with man's efforts, and 
sometimes thwarting them. The importance 
of rivers as routes is obvious. A river is cease- 
lessly at work broadening and levelling its 
valley [see page 457]. Many rivers offer a 
choice of routes, by water or by land. Others, 
though not navigable, are practicable as valley 
routes. Population tends to follow the river 
valleys, which are the natural roads. Hence, 
we find civilisation early developing in the rivei 
valleys of the Ganges, the Euphrates, the 
Nile, and so forth. 

The importance of the river as a route grow? 
with the development of means of communica- 
tion. Most of the great land routes of the world 
follow rivers, though the line has frequently to b* 
blasted out of the sheer sides of the valley. 

Rivers, however, hinder communication as 
well as acilitate it. Many side valleys open to 
the main valley, and the streams which fill them 
must be bridged or otherwise crossed. Some- 
times the character of the country makes this 
extremely difficult. The rivers may have cut 
deep canons far below the surface of the country, 
to which descent may be almost impossible. 
Here a bridge is the only practicable method of 
communication, and costly bridges are not 
built till the development of a country is far 
advanced. In the earlier stages such canons 
effectually hinder communication, as in the 
drier parts of the Western United States. Or, 
again, a river may be so swollen by floods in 
summer as to close a route which it opens in 
winter. This is the case on the great trade 
route from Leh to Yarkand in Central Asia. 
The winter route follows the Shyok Valley, but 
in summer the, river conies clown in flood, making 

the valley impassable. The summer route has 
to go up many side valleys and across the 
passes which separate them. 

Rivers as Constructive Agents. Rivers 
are ceaselessly at work making new land [see 
page 458]. This is sometimes advantageous to 
man and sometimes the reverse. It has given 
him some of the most fertile lands in the world, 
but it may undo his work, and make his task 
more difficult. 

In every flood a river spreads beyond its banks, 
leaving behind it when it retires a deposit of 
soil. Thus it gradually levels the land on either 
side, forming a flood plain. The soil of the flood 
plain becomes deep and fertile. The flood plain 
of the upper Rhine, between the Vosges and 
Black Forest, is one of the garden spots of 
Europe. On a larger scale the same process 
builds up vast plains and deltas like those of the 
Rhine, the Po, or the Nile. 

Broadly viewed, therefore, the constructive 
work of rivers benefits man by creating new lands 
for his occupation. But immense loss and 
damage may be caused in the process. The 
floods of the Hwang-ho constitute China's 
sorrow, and those of the Mississippi are almost 
equally destructive. Man may be forced to 
check the misdirected energy of such rivers by 
building embankments and otherwise restraining 
the tendency to flood. The forming of bars and 
the silting up of harbours are disadvantages 
which result from the constructive energy of rivers. 

The Newer Uses of Rivers. In other 
ways rivers exercise an important influence on 
the development of civilisation. Irrigation 
may be necessary, and the rivers of a country 
may or may not be suitable for the purpose. If 
they are, as in the case of the Ganges, the Nile, 
the Euphrates, and many others, agricultural 
prosperity is assured. If they are not, as in the 
case of the Spanish rivers, which are in deep 
gorges, the development of a country is hindered. 

Rivers may confer another advantage on a 
country by supplying power. The early manu- 
factures of the Tweed or Yorkshire Ouse pros- 
pered largely because there were rapid streams 
to turn the mills. The discovery of electric 
power has made the command of water power 
infinitely more valuable. Niagara Falls have 
long been harnessed in the service of man. The 
largest producer and transmitter of electric 
power in the Old World is the Falls of Cauvery 
in Mysore, with 93 miles of wire to the Kolar 
Goldfields, and 57 miles to the electric lights of 
Bangalore. The command of water power may 
occasionally make mountain regions important 
industrial centres, but it is usually where the 
river enters the lowlands, forming falls, that 
industrial centres develop. This is well seen in 
the chain of flourishing manufacturing towns 
along the Appalachian " fall line." 

Irrigation plays a great part in the develop- 
ment of many countries. Rivers are not 
essential, for water maybe collected in cisterns 
and tanks in the wet season, as in Southern 
India, or obtained by sinking wells to water- 
bearing strata, as in the Sahara, the Western 
United States, or Australia. But for irrigation 

I 27 


on a great scale rivers are necessary. The usual 
method is to dam the river, forming a head of 
water from which distributing canals can be fed. 
This method is applied with conspicuous success 
to the Indus, the Ganges and the Nile. 

Plateaus and Plains. Plateaus have more 
or less of the disadvantages of all highland regions 
according to their elevation. Under certain 
circumstances they may be the most favoured 
part of a region. The plateaus of Switzerland, 
of Central Asia and the Andes are cases in point, 
though for a different reason. High plateaus 
are seldom fitted for agriculture, but their dry 
pastures often produce a fine quality of wool 
or hair. From that of the sheep and goats fed 
on the plateaus of Asia Minor and Persia are 
made Turkey and Persian carpets, the finest and 
most durable in the world. Plains present great 
uniformity over considerable areas, and offer the 
minimum resistance to movement and com- 
munication. They may be swampy and low 
lying, as in Holland, but this is met by drain- 
ing and dyking. The soil is fertile for the same 
reason that valley soil is fertile. Throughout the 
world plains are centres of population, and the 
site of all the important cities. When they are 
adjacent to good harbours their prosperity is 
still more marked. 

Soils. The character of the surface soil is 
important. Clay is stiff, compact and imper- 
vious to the free passage of air and water. 
It is therefore unsuited to agriculture. A sandy 
soil has the opposite defects, and is too loose 
and porous. Fresh lava is absolutely unfertile ; 
but, as its surface begins to weather, vegetation 
appears. When thoroughly disintegrated it is 
extremely fertile, owing to the presence of 
chemical substances. Thus, though the slopes 
of Vesuvius are barren almost to the base, the 
surrounding district of Campania is extremely 
rich. In forest regions decaying vegetable 
matter enriches the soil, forming humus or 
vegetable mould. The virgin soil of cleared 
forests is therefore very fertile, as in Siberia 
or North America. Alluvial soils are generally 
fertile after they have passed through the initial 
swampy or waterlogged stage. We have already 
referred to the fertility of desert soils. The 
loess region of Northern China is composed of 
very fine soil carried by the wind from the deserts 
of Central Asia. An extreme case is seen in the 
nitrate deserts of Chile, which, though barren of 
vegetation, yield an invaluable fertiliser. 

Certain soils are specially adapted to certain 
crops. The Deccan has its " cotton soil," and 
the Black Earth Lands of the Russian Empire 
grow fine cereals. 

Indirectly, too, the character of the soil 
exercises considerable influence on the conditions 
of existence by its suitability or unsuitability 
for making hard-wearing roads. In a clay 
country the roads are impassable after rain, 
and impede communication. In the lower 
regions of China the "roads become deeply sunk 
in the porous soil. 

The Land near the Sea. The prosperity 
of a marginal area depends partly on the character 
of the coast, and partly on the character of the 



hark region, or hinderland. flood harbours are 
of little' value Nvhere the hinderland is poor, and 
a ri.-h hinderland may develop slowly owing 
to the absence of harbours. With good harbours 
and a good hinderland a marginal area possesses 
superior advantages to an inland region. 
M..M of the countries of Europe and ot 
Eastern North America are hi this favoured 

Coasts and Harbours. The different 
VMS of coasts have already been described. 
Tlie presence or absence of cliffs^ bays, gulfs, and 
estuaries opening to navigable rivers, the depth 
or shallowness of the seas off the coasts, the 
existence of sandbanks, reefs, or sunken rocks, 
and the presence or absence of islands, all affect 
the commercial development of a region. 

Where mountains rise immediately from the 
sea good harbours are rare. In the moun- 
tainous island of Capri, near Naples, there are 
only two possible landing-places at any time, 
and in stormy weather only one. On some 
mountainous coasts the sea has penetrated far 
inland up the river valleys, forming rias, fiords, 
and other inlets. The coasts of such fiords are 
generally fringed with islands, which form a 
natural* breakwater, as in the Skerry Guard 
of Norway. The fiords are natural routes to 
the interior, and as such valuable, but in 
these regions the interior, or hinderland, is 
apt to be rugged and barren, neutralising 
this advantage to a great extent. Examples 
of fiord coasts with poor hinderlands are Norway, 
the West Coast of Scotland and British Columbia 
and of ria coasts in North-west Spain and South- 
west Ireland. All along the Pacific coast of 
America good harbours are few. The Atlantic 
coast of North America, on the other hand, has 
many good harbours in drowned river valleys 
which give access to a rich hinderland. The 
contrast between the prosperity of the eastern 
and western coasts of North America is very 

Low, sandy shores are also unfavourable to 
commerce. Such shores are frequently beaten 
by dangerous surf, as on the coast of West 
Africa, or Western India, where special surf 
boats are used for landing. 

Seas and Oceans. The distribution of 
seas and oceans and their influence on climate 
have already been described. Europe is 
fortunate in possessing two inland seas, which 
I- i iet rate far inland the Baltic-North Sea in 
the north and the Mediterranean in the south. 
Until, but particularly the latter, have played 
a great part in the history of the world by 
rendering communication easy. The early growth 
vilisation and commerce all round the 
Mediterranean is a case in point. North 
America ha^ M. m e\\hat similar advantages in 
what \ve m. iv call tin- St. Lawrence Sea in the 
north and the . \meriean Mediterranean in the 
.-nth. BMtern Atk i- \u-ll ,-ut up by inland 
seas, but the other continents are very compact. 

Trade Winds. Winds have already been 
described. In his struggle for existence man must 
take winds, currents and tides into account. 

Winds exercise a great influence on naviga- 
tion. A vessel leaving Southampton for Cape 
Town is first in the region of the west winds and 
mav have rough weather for a day or two, 
especially in "the Bay." Towards 30 N. 
it comes into a region of calms, out of which 
it passes south into the north-east trades, which 
blow steadily till the belt of calms round the 
equator is reached. South of these equatorial 
calms it enters the region of the south-east 
trades, and after passing through the calms of 
Capricorn perhaps experiences rough weather 
on nearing Cape Town in the region of the 
southern westerlies. These, it will be remem- 
bered, blow much more fiercely in the Southern 
Hemisphere, giving the " roaring forties " an 
evil reputation, and making the voyage round 
Cape Horn in particular an experience to be 
dreaded. Ships naturally go with the wind 
so far as possible. A ship sailing west across 
the Atlantic steers a southerly course to get 
into the north-east trades, which originally 
guided Columbus to the New World. Returning 
eastwards to Liverpool it steers further north, 
to get into the track of the west winds. The 
summer and winter courses also differ somewhat, 
as the track of these winds varies with the 
season. A sailing vessel to Australia, similarly, 
finds it easiest to go by the Cape of Good Hope 
and return by Cape Horn. 

Currents and Tides. The influence of 
currents on climate has already been considered. 
The warm surface water of the Gulf Stream 
Drift keeps the ports of Britain and Norway 
ice -free in winter ; but the cold Labrador current 
closes the St. Lawrence ports in winter. In a less 
degree than winds, currents influence courses at 
sea. A vessel going with the equatorial current 
proceeds much more quickly than one going 
against it. 

Currents play another part, which beautifully 
illustrates the interdependence of Nature. 
They often carry seeds, some of which may 
survive their long exposure to sea-water and 
germinate. In this way the coconut palm 
early appears on coral islands, to which its seed 
has been carried by ocean currents. 

Tides in particular are of great assistance to 
shipping by carrying vessels up and down 
estuaries into harbour. The high tides of 
London, Avhcre two tidal crests meet, have con- 
tributed to its greatness as a port. Some 
harbours can only be entered at high tide. 

Ice. The value of a sea is much lessened if 
it is ice-bound in winter. The ports of the 
Baltic and the northern Black Sea are of less 
importance than the ports of the North Sea 
and the Mediterranean, which are ice-free. The 
summer course of Atlantic liners is affected by 
the presence of icebergs, which are then drifting 
south from, the Polar regions. 




Hand, Block, and Machine Printing. The Perrotine. Cylinder 
Machines. Multiple Colour Printing. Finishing Processes 

Group 28 


Continued from 
page 4'!45 


Preparation. Cotton, wool, and silk in 
the order named are the fibres most frequently 
dealt with by the textile printer. Cotton and 
wool are printed not only in the piece but as 
yarn to produce variegated effects in cloth, 
and woollen slubbing is also printed. The pre- 
paratory processes do not differ greatly from 
those which precede dyeing, and may be studied 
in the Dyeing section of our course. Silk is 
well scoured, calico ordinarily is bleached, not 
only to avoid interference with the brilliance of 
the colours, but to give good whites when these 
form part of the pattern. The textile printer is 
contented, however, with a less perfect bleach 
than the " market bleach " given to goods 
intended to be sold in the white state. Wool is 
chlorinated that is, treated with a weak solu- 
tion of bleaching powder or of a hypochlorite. 
This greatly reduces the felting power of the 
wool, and makes the fibre more easily penet- 
rable by liquid. 

Block, or Hand Printing. It need 
hardly be said that block printing was the first 
method practised in this trade. The logical 
progress of textile printing, in fact, has been 
that of typography, from hand printing to 
machine printing on the flat, and from that to 
rotary printing. Block printing is still largely 
used for silk, and it is comparatively recently that 
machine printing has been adapted to the treat- 
ment of this fibre. 

Blocks. The blocks are usually made of pear- 
tree wood or some other hard timber, and are of 
considerable thickness. On the face of the block 
the design is cut out in relief or formed by copper 
wire. When the design is a simple repetition 
of a pattern, it is usual to make the block large 
enough to contain the whole pattern. If the 
design be large and complicated, it may be divided 
into sections, each block carrying a section, and 
the whole making a set. Designs of two or more 
colours require as many blocks as there are 
colours, unless, as often happens, the combina- 
tion of two colours produce a third. Many 
designs printed on heavy cloths, such as felt 
carpets, are vari-coloured in such a way that each 
colour stands out separate from its fellow. The 
printer's colour is a kind of paste. In old- 
fashioned works the paste is laid on to the block 
with a palette knife ; but other and better 
means are now generally used. A woollen cloth 
is stretched tightly over a hoop, and upon it the 
colour is spread. To give the surface of the 
sieve, as it is named, more elasticity, it is floated 
on paste or size in a tub. On this sieve the 
block is pressed, and receives its coat of colour. 
The appliance for vari-coloured blocks to which 
we have referred, consists of a wooden block, 

hollowed out hi parts the same size and position 
at the pattern of the printing block. Into 
these hollows the different colours are laid, and 
the woollen cloth stretched over all. Between each 
colour compartment pieces of thick cord are glued, 
to prevent one colour from running in to another 
on the cloth. When the printer presses his block 
on the cloth, the different colours come into place. 

The Table. A textile printer's table must 
be very smooth and true. The bed of the table 
is generally made up of slate slabs. At each end 
of the table strong brackets are fixed, and upon 
the one is slung the cloth beam, while on the 
other the taking-on beam is hung. 

Printing. The printer draws a length oi 
the cloth on to the table, and carefully smooths 
it down to the bed, till not a vestige of wrinkle 
remains. Having charged his block with colour, 
he lays it face downward on the cloth, and gives 
it a tap with his hand, or in the case of large 
patterns, with a mallet. After a moment, the 
block is lifted, and a clear impression of the 
pattern is left on the cloth. No matter what the 
character or length of the design may be, the 
printing action is the same. Block printing is 
merely a repetition of these simple actions in 
perfect register. 

Machine Printing. For the present, we 
defer examining the further treatment of hand- 
printed goods, because the finishing operations of 
all printed cloths are the same, whether printed 
by machine or hand blocks. Confining ourselves 
to the means and methods of putting on the 
impressions meanwhile, we note that textile 
printing machines are divided into two classes. 
The one class is the block printing machines, and 
the other is the cylinder printing machines. 

The Flat Press. The first step towards 
the introduction of machinery was an English 
invention that imitated copper-plate printing, 
calico being substituted for paper. It was prac- 
tically confined to one-colour printing, and we 
believe that this method is no longer practised. 

The Perrotine, A block printing ma- 
chine, capable of working in three colours, was 
the next step. It is very largely used in Alsace 
and Belgium. This machine has never made 
much headway with British printers, though 
some of the highest-class houses use it alongside 
the cylinder machines. The perrotine is a very 
intricate piece of mechanism, and requires very 
careful and detailed study. 

The machine is contained within a strong 
framework, semicircular in form, the fore end of 
the circle being continued in a curved line up, 
to hold the rollers which carry the blanket and 

loth to be printed. The simplest'perrotine prints 
hree colours, and therefore has three blocks, 



!hm . 1>r i n ti n g tables, and three sets of colour 
rolll ,. St irfth apparatus for colour supply. Ihis, 
,,, begin uith. Miggests complexity. Our atfc 
i,,,, ;h,u,lcl first be directed to the printing 
Hooka and their accessories. The machine .has 
thivt . ^,,51 ar.ns joining at the centre, and there 
f,,,v at right angles to each other. On all these 
arms we find a block holder into which the 
engraved block is fixed. Each holder is screwed 
on to a sliding piece keyed to a pair o 
beams moved alternately backward and 
forward by shafts supported on the mam 
ann The three blocks are thus given a 
to-and-fro motion, forward to print the 
cloth, and back to let it pass. Having 
found our blocks, we have next to find out 
how they are supplied with coats of colour. 
\t the side of each arm, supported on 
levers, are three colour-boxes, furnished 
with rollers. One roller revolves in the 
colour-box and one runs in contact with 
but above its fellow, taking on a supply 
of colour from it. Screws regulate the 
relations of the rollers, bringing them into 
close contact when much colour is desired, 
and separating them if the colour supply 
should be light. Neither roller, however, 
ever touches the printing block. The 
medium between block and colour roller is 
a sieve ingeniously controlled by rods ex- 
tending from a lever beam. The sieve is on 
the end o' the rod, and the timing of its action 
shows fine adjustment. 

We have been working from the outside into 
the machine, and now we are at the very 
centre. Here is the table upon which the block 
impresses the cloth. There are, of course, three 
tables. For the sake of simplicity we have con- 
fined attention to one set of appliances ; but 
the tables cannot be appreciated unless the three 
are seen. Three iron bars of equal size are 
joined at right angles to each other, and on the 
bead* of the bars sit the smooth tables. The 
whole three are cast as one piece, but we separate 
them to understand the real character of each. 
A table faces every block. At the four corners 
of the table frame sit four rollers. The tables, 
U'ing flat, have no power to act on the 
doth ; but these rollers carry the cloth to be 
printed over the tables, their surfaces being 
\\ ith little teeth to hold on to the 
fal.ric. Next, above the first of the rollers we 
find a large roller upon which the blanket, back 
doth, and pieces to be printed join together. 
Up above and near to the front part of the 
machine arc sets of tension rollers and carrying 
blocks. Outside of all sit the beams from which 
conn- tin- three fabrics mentioned. 

Working the Perrotine. Wound on to a 

.111.- roller, the doth i, hung on the brackets 

in front of the machine. I'p above, the end- 

.ml the liad; cloth are similarly 

adju.-ti <!. Into the colour-boxes the printer lays 

hi< colours, adjust- the screws which regulate 

the supply, and puts the doctor knives over 

the colour rollers to clear otT superfluous pigment 

lx for.- the sieves come into contact. The blocks 

'd into the holders. On the end 


of the piece a few yards of rough cloth are joined 
and this is drawn into the machine. When 
everything has been put into position, the perro- 
tine is started. Blanket, back cloth, and printing 
piece pass in on their separate ways, and join 
at the central roller above the table rollers. As 
the three fabrics come together the blanket is 
uppermost, but when going round this roller 
the positions become reversed, and the piece 

(Mather & Platt, Ltd., Manchester) 

cloth is uppermost when they pass on to the 
first table roller. Thrust in by the lever - 
controlled rod, the sieve has taken its coating from 
the colour roller and transferred it on to the 
block coming forward. Table and block now 
press in contact, with the cloths between them. 
The first colour has been printed. The cloths 
next pass round the second corner rollers, and 
the machine again prints. A third time the 
operation is performed, and then the piece cloth 
returns to the outer world a printed cloth, to 
pass on to the drying rollers. 

Improvements. The original perrotine 
has been greatly modified and improved during 
the past twenty years. But the principles on 
which it works are unaltered, and we have 
purposely selected the first form of the machine 
because it exhibits, even more clearly than the 
later developments, the essential characteristics 
of a block printing machine. Improvements 
have chiefly taken the direction of adding to the 
number of colours which can be perfected at 
once on the machine. Some of the newer 
perrotines print twelve colours at once with 
great speed, and twenty colours are occasionally 
obtained in one printing. The English block 
printing machine, which is illustrated [208]. 
gives a good idea of the size and character of 
that class of machines, 

Cylinder Machines. The idea of de- 
vising a roller to perform the same service as a 
flat surface has been at the root of many of our 
finest mechanical inventions. Application of 
that principle to textile printing has gone to great 
lengths. Cylinder printing machines for textiles 
were invented by Bell, a Scotchman, in 1785. 

Single Cylinder. This is a simple 
structure. In the middle of the machine is the 

wide cylinder, called the pressure cylinder or 
bowl. Under it we see the pattern roller, with 
slanting knives at each side of it. Further below 
sits the colour roller in the colour trough. 
Note these parts a little more closely. The 
roller in the colour trough is clad with soft, 
thick woollen cloth, which enables it to take up 
the colour. The pattern roller runs in direct 
contact with the colour roller, and thus receives 
the necessary supply of colour. The knife at 
the inner side of the pattern roller is called 
the colour doctor, because it clears away all 
the superfluous colour ; the knife at the other 
side is named the lint doctor, its function being 
to take away any threads which may have been 
deposited by the cloth on the pattern roller in 
passing. Made of cast iron, the large pressure 
cylinder is heavily clad with smooth felt to give 
a finely smooth and elastic surface. The cloth 
apparatus is equally simple. Up on the front 
of the machine the cloth beam is hung ; adjoining 
hangs the blanket roller, and underneath sits 
the guide roller which joins them. Cloth and 
blanket go down round the pressure cylinder 
into contact with the pattern roller, and round 
up to the delivery rollers on the other side. 

The vast saving of labour and the greatly 
accelerated production effected by the adoption 
of the cylinder principle is here worthy of note. 
Thousands of yards of cloth can be printed on 
this machine in a day. 

Three=colour Machine. Progress from 
the single-colour machine to the three-colour 
printing was easy to our ingenious mechanics. 
We say ingenious because some difficult prob- 
lems are involved. The idea of placing pattern 
rollers, with doctors and colour apparatus, 
on the sides of the pressure cylinder was obvious ; 

(Mather & Platt, Ltd., Manchester) 


but the problem of driving these appliances 
could hardly be described as very simple. More- 
over, there remained the question of distributing 
the pressure on the added rollers. These 
difficulties have been met in various ways by 
different inventors. The simplest and most 
obvious method namely, that of strengthening 
and enlarging the framing, and giving the second 
and third roller the same gearing as the first, 
has been adopted in many machines with success. 
In other machines the principles of the perrotine 
have been adopted. 

Printing Many Colours. Every colour 
must have its own separate pattern roller, knife 
doctors, and colour-boxes with rollers. To 
group these round the pressure cylinder in 
proper positions has been the work of the 
machinist. How this has been accomplished we 
see most clearly in a machine designed to print 
four colours. The pressure cylinder is 6 ft. in 
circumference, and sits in the centre of the 
machine. The gudgeons of the cylinder rest 
on bushes, which can be moved up or down in 
slots in the side cheeks, strong screws from the 
top of the frame fixing them in position. 
Round the cylinder are grouped four mandrels, 
slotted, and fixed in strong bearings on slide 
pieces. On to these mandrils the engraved 
pattern rollers are forced by means of a screw 
press. By this arrangement the changes of 
pattern and colour can be effected by merely 
changing the pattern roller. Colour-box, roller, 
and doctors are contained within the slide piece, 
secured to the framing by means of a double 
screw. A pair of arms, jointed to the inner 
screw of the slide pieces and strengthened by 
bolts from the machine frame, bring forward the 
pattern rollers to the pressure cylinder. The 
mechanism of all four rollers each with 
its equipment of colour-box, colour roller, 
doctors, and controlling levers is practi- 
cally similar. From the head of the 
frame two long arms curve out, and 
between these rests the cloth beam ; while 
from beams more directly over the pressure 
cylinder come the blanket and back cloth. 
The cloths meet on a roller just above the 
cjT-hnder, and come down into the ma- 
chine. A double cylinder machine [209] 
prints twice the number of colours on the 
same principle. 

Mordants and Dyestuffs. These 
will be considered in detail in the Dye- 
ing section of this course. It is rather 
the methods of application that vary in 
dyeing and printing than the mordants 
and dyestuffs employed, although some 
dyes are more suitable for dyeing than 
printing, and vice versa. Both soluble dyes 
and insoluble colours (pigments) can be 
used in printing. The pigments are usually 
coloured minerals in fine powder ultra- 
marine, for instance and are mechani- 
cally fixed on the cloth with albumen. 
The natural colouring matters, especially 
logwood and indigo, are largely used, and 
any class of artificial dyestuff may be 
employed. As, however, in printing, the 



fibre is not dyed so thoroughly, and as the 
tir-t necessity of prints is fastness to light, the 
mordant colours the alizarines, for instance are 
more largely employed than the colours which 
require no mordant. 

Styles of Work. The printer can ring 
an enormous number of changes in his methods 
of doing things, and he can combine dyeing very 
effectively with printing. For instance, everyone 
is familiar with the old pattern of indigo blue 
scarf with round white spots. This was produced 
by printing a resist or reserve paste on the cloth 
and then dyedng it in the indigo vat. The places 
covered by the resist were protected from the 
action of the vat and consequently remained 
white. Or the printer may reverse this process ; 
he may dye the cloth first and print on a dis- 
charge. This has the same effect of leaving a 
white pattern on a coloured ground, and, by 
adding to the discharge colouring matters not 
acted upon by the chemical agent that destroys 
the body colour of the cloth, he can produce a 
colour discharge that is to say, for instance, 
red upon a blue ground. Again, as in one of the 
oldest styles, known as the dyed or madder style, 
he may print a mordant on to the cloth, dyeing 
the cloth subsequently with a colouring matter 
which will not go on to the fibre except in the 
parts impregnated with the mordant. The result 
is a pattern on a white ground. The term " mad- 
der style " is used because this method was em- 
ployed for madder long before the introduction 
of the artificial colouring matters. Now madder 
has gone entirely out of use in calico printing, 
at any rate and alizarine reigns in its stead ; 
but this style is still employed for alizarines and 
other colouring matters. Again, the printer may 
print the colour paste on to the mordanted cloth, 
or the mordant may form a part of the printing 
colour. As it is evident .that the printer may 
combine these and other styles, it will be seen 
that he has an armoury of resources. 

Padding. The large firms of indigo dyers 
were all printers to the extent of producing 
patterns on their goods by means of printed 
reserves in the manner we have instanced. The 
printer, however, is frequently content with a 
speedier form of dyeing known as padding. The 
fibre is not so thoroughly impregnated as in 
vat or beck dying, but the method is practically 
confined to calico, and for this material it is 
advantageous. It will be readily understood 
that the smaller amount of colour, or lesser 
impregnation of the fibre, allows better discharge 
effects to be obtained. In other words, it is 
easier to get good sharply outlined patterns by 
printing a discharge, whether white or coloured, 
on padded than on dyed material, and this 
applies even more particularly to slop padding, 
which will IK- touched on later. 

The Padding Machine. This is a very 
simple apparatus. It consists essentially of a 
-Mia II vessel in which a concentrated 
Otafeon f the mordant or dyestuff is contained, 
guide rolleri within the vessel, by means of which 
th- doth is run through the liquor, and squeezing 
directly over the dye bath, by which the 

surplus liquor is squeezed out into the dye bath. 
Attached to the frame of the machine are 
rollers to receive and deliver the cloth. The 
necessary concentration of the bath for this 
rapid form of dyeing must be noted. It empha- 
sises the fact that in apparatus dyeing generally, 
where short baths have to be used, the dyestuff 
must be very soluble. 

Slop Padding. When the colour is 
applied uniformly to one side of the cloth only, 
the process is termed slop padding. This is used 
principally for light, easily discharged shades. 
A single-colour printing machine is ordinarily 
employed. The printing roller is plain that is, 
no pattern is engraved upon it, but the surface 
is grooved with fine lines in order to take up 
the colour. A felt-covered wooden roller, 
revolving in the concentrated dye bath, in touch 
with the printing roller, transfers the colour or 
mordant to this latter. Over the printing roller, 
and in touch with it, is a large iron roller, which 
brings the cloth into contact with the printing 
roller. The printing roller is provided with the 
usual colour-doctor, and in order to give an 
elastic print : ng surface, a thick band of felt, 
known as the blanket, revolves in an endless band 
between the iron roller and the cloth. As a rule, 
there is a back cloth between the cloth and the 
blanket to prevent the felt from being soiled. 

Machine Printing. It must be noted 
here that although the mechanical arrangement 
of a machine to print a large number of colours 
makes it appear complicated, an eighteen-colour 
machine is merely a multiplication of the essential 
parts of the one-colour machine described above. 
Whether it be for cotton, woollen, or silk, the 
actual apparatus is a copper roller engraved in 
lines or dots, with a pattern, one printing roller 
being provided for each colour. The main 
difficulty is to make the colours register properly 
that is, to fall into their proper position in the 
pattern, and this, of course, increases in propor- 
tion to the number of colours in the pattern. 
Each roller must be in its correct position on the 
mandrels, and all the rollers must be correct in 
relation one with the other. The edge of the 
doctor must be perfectly level, and press evenly 
against the whole length of the roller. Many 
other difficulties crop up, but each suggests its 
appropriate remedy. 

Printing Woollen = stubbing and 
Cotton Yarn. Unspun wool in the form 
of slubbing is printed with stripes in order to 
produce fancy yarns, and cotton yarns, usually 
in the form of warps, are printed in order 
to produce variegated cloths. The printing 
machine already described is used with a number 
of rollers corresponding to the required number 
of colours. As a rule, the printing roller is simply 
grooved, in order to print the yarn in stripes. 
The doctor is arranged so that it clears off all the 
colour, except that in the grooves, before the 
printing roller comes into contact with the stuff. 
Especially for slubbing, the blanket must be 
softer than usual, in order to allow the stuff to 
be pressed into the groove, and so to take up 
the colour. 




Italian by F. de Feo ; French by Louis A. Barbe, B.A. ; Spanish by Amalia 
de Alberti and H. S. Duncan ; Esperanto by Harald Clegg, F.B.E.A. 

-Group 18 


Continued from 
page 4:!6S 


Continued from 
page -K560 

By Francesco de Feo 


When the action or fact expressed by the 
verb is completed without an object (I walk, io 
cammino ; I sleep, io dormo) the verb is intransi- 
tive. Intransitive verbs, as a rule, are conjugated 
with the auxiliary essere (Example : E accaduto, it 
has happened) ; but some are conjugated with 
avere (Example : ho viaggiato, I have travelled), 
or admit both auxiliaries (Example : sono 
vissuto or ho vissuto, I have lived). 

The only rule that can be given as to which 
auxiliary should be used is that the verbs ex- 
pressing an action are conjugated with avere, 
and those expressing a fact with essere. Ex- 
ceptions to this rule are to be learnt by practice. 


1. Quando sono entrato essi erano gia par tit i. 
2. Sono contento che siate riuscito in questo 
affare. 3. Lo spettacolo e durato piu di due ore. 
4. Son caduto e mi son fatto male. 5. Non ho 
sonno ; ho dormito tutto il giorno. 6. Aspetto 
mio fratello ; doveva venire col treno delle 
sette, e mi maraviglio che non sia ancora 
arrivato. 7. Se foste venuto dieci minuti prima 
vi sareste incontrato col signor N. 8. Una nave 
da guerra e affondata nel " Baltico. 9. Una 
torpediniera giapponese ha affondato due navi 
russe. 10. Ho girato tutto il giorno senza 
conchiuder niente. 


The demonstrative pronouns are : 
questi (koo-ehstee), this one 
quegli (koo-eh-' iee), that one 
costui (costoo-ee), this one (here) 
costei (costeh-ee), this one (here) 
colui (coloo-ee), that one (there) 
colei (coleh-ee), that one (there) 
un tale (oon-tdhleh), such a one 
do (chee-o), that 

ne (neh), of it, of him, of them, etc. 
d (chee), in it, on it, with it, etc. 

1. Questi and quegli are singular, ?,nd are only 
used in speaking of persons ; but modern usage 
prefers the demonstrative adjectives questo and 
quello used substantively. 

2. Costui, costei (plural costoro, for both 
genders), and colui, colei (plural coloro, for both 
genders) are used only in spea,king of persons, 
and in familiar language nearly always imply a 
shade of contempt. Examples : Io non mi fido 
di colui, I do not trust that man (the fellow). 
Non pr estate danaro a costoro, Do not lend money 
to these men. 

3. Colui che, colei che, coloro che, quelli che, 
colui il quale, etc., are rendered in English by he 
who, she who, they who. 

4. do is singular and means " this thing." Ne 
and ci may be considered as demonstrative pro- 
nouns, as in many expressions they take the 
place of do. Examples: Non ne (di do) capisco 
niente, I understand nothing of that. Che ne 
pensi ? (che pensi di do ?), What do you think 
of that ? Non d riesco (non riesco in do), I 
do not succeed in doing that. 

NOTE. The student acquainted with French 
should compare the use of en and y. 


1. Metteteli da parte ; ce ne serviremo quando 
ne avremo bisogno. 2. Cio non sta bene. 3. 
Costui e tanto pieno di se, che pare che tutto 
il mondo gli appartenga. 4. Questi e uno scrit- 
tore di gran merito, quegli un poeta genialissimo. 

5. Non oso parlare apertamente, perche temo di 
essere malinteso da questi e combattuto da quelli. 

6. Voi non sapete quello che dite. 7. Non so 
come andranno a finire le cose, per me non ci 
vedo chiaro in questa faccenda. 8. Ecco due 
bottiglie abbastanza grandi, in questa ci met- 
teremo il vino, in quella 1'acqua. 9. Non mi 
parlate di coloro, essi non meritano piu di 
essere aiutati. 10. Ludovico mirava piuttosto 
a scansare i colpi e a disarmare il nemico, che ad 
ucciderlo, ma questo voleva la morte di lui ad 
ognicosto(m.). 11. Colei parla solo per in vidia, e 
meglio non ascoltarla. 12. Quelli che gridano di 
piu hanno sempre ragione a questo mondo. 
13. II premio sara dato a quello che Favra 


Second Conjugation 
Verbs in ere (long) continued 

Do 1 ere, to ache 

Ind. Pres. Dolgo, duoli, duole, dogliamo, 
dolete, dolgono. 

Past Def. Dolsi, dolesti, dolse, dolemmo, 
doleste, dols'ero. 

Future. Dorr 6, dorrai, dorr a, dorremo, etc. 
Imperat. Duoli, dolga, dogliamo, dolete, ddl- 

Subj. Pres. Dolga, etc. ; dogliamo, dogliate 

Condit. Dorrei, dorresti, dorrebbe, etc. 
Past Part. Doluto. 

Parere, to seem 

Ind. Pres. Paio, pari, pare, paiamo, parete, 

Past Def. Parvi, paresti, parve, paremmo, par- 
este, pdrvero. 

Future. Parr 6, parrai, parrd, etc. 
Imperat. Pari, paia, paiamo, parete, pdiano. 
Subj. Pres. Paia, etc. ; paiamo, paiate, pdiano. 



Condit.Parrei, parresti, etc. 

Past Part. Parso. 

This verb is mostly used impersonally: 
mi pare, mi parve, mi e parso, etc. 

Sol ere, to be accustomed 

Ind. Pres.Sdglio, suoli, suole, sogliamo, solete, 

Imperf.Solevo, solevi, etc. 

Past Def.SoUi, solesti, etc. 

Subj. Pres.Soglia, etc ; sogliamo, soghate, 

8wbj. Imperf.Solessi, etc. 

Past Part. Sdlito. 

This verb is very little used, except in the 
past participle (sdlito), which is very common. 
The expression esser sdlito is used instead. 
Avere, to have 

See pages 2193, 2484. 

Calere, to care for, to matter 

This verb has only the 3rd persons. 

Ind. Pres.Cale. 

Past Def.Calse. 

Subj. Pres.Cdglia. 

Cap ere, to hold 

This verb is obsolete ; the verb capire is 
used instead. But the forms cape and capa 
take the place of capisce and capisca. 

NOTE. Besides the verbs given above, there 
are only two other verbs in ere (long) viz., 
temere, to fear, and godere, to enjoy, both of 
which are regular. 


1. Godo di vedere che sta bene. 2. Non mi 
rioordo di lei, ma mi pare di averla veduta in 
qu&lche posto. 3. Ebbi il piacere di conoscerla 
a Roma due anni fa. 4. In campagna siamo 
soliti di fare una lunga passeggiata prima di 
colazione. 5. Non temete di niente, pensero 
io al vostro av venire. 6. Mi duole di dovervi 
parlare in questo modo. 7. Mi duole la testa ; 
sjvra meglio ch'io rimanga in casa. 8. Mi era 
parso che avessero suonato il campanello. 9. 
Finora si e fatto sempre come avete voluto voi, 
ora mi pare che anche voi possiate fare come 
vogliamo noi. 


The indefinite pronouns are : 
altri (dhltree), somebody else, any other man, 
nltrni (altrod-ee), of others, to others, 
niente, nulla (nee-ehnteh, noollah), nothing, and 

the compounds of the adjective uno used 

as a substantive : 
ognuno (onee-oono), every one. 
qualcuno, qualcheduno (koo-dhlkoono, koo-dhl- 

keh-doono), some one. 
certuno (chehr-toono), a certain person. 

1. Altri is singular and is used of persons 
.ilnii'- : La.fcia che altri /x//7t di questo, Let some- 
"ii'- speak of this. 

. AUrui is m \ci us. (1 as subject, and means 
nly (1) di altri (other people's), as we have 
;i!n-;i(ly sr-n \\hcii speaking of the possessive 
. ami ('2) atl altri (to other people). 
Kvirnpli-: \,,n tenere per te quello che e doimto 
iiltrui, Do not keep for thyself what is due to 


3. Niente and nulla are real substantives : 
niente per niente, nothing for nothing ; il nulla, 

4. We may consider such expressions as the fol- 
lowing to be indefinite pronouns : Dio sa die, God 
knows what. Chi sa chi, Who knows who, etc. 

NOTE. When niente, nulla, and the negative 
adjectives nessuno, niuno, etc., come after the 
verb, the verb must be preceded by the negative 
non ; but when they are placed before the verb 
the non is not employed. Example : Non c'era 
nessuno or nessuno era Id, No one was there. 

1. Quel pover' uomo ha dovuto mettere 
insieme una bella sommetta, perche ognuno 
gli ha dato qualche cosa. 2. Io parlo in 
generale e non vorrei che alto considerasse le 
mie parole come dirette a lui. 3. L'iniquita si 
fonda spesso sulla credulita e bonta altrui. 
4. Agite sempre correttamente e non vi curate 
di quello che altri possa pensare di voi. 5. 
Bussate ancora ; qualcuno dev' essere in casa, 
perche c' e lume nelle stanze disopra. 6. Cer- 
tuni pare che godano delle sventure altrui. 7. 
Se non mi raccontate tutto per filo e per segno 
(exactly), non ne fa,remo nulla. 8. Dite sempre 
la verita se volete che altri vi stimi. 9. Coloro 
che non posseggono nulla sono sempre i piu 
generosi. 10. Niente e inutile, ogni cosa ha 
la sua ragion d' essere. 

Possessive Pronouns. The possessive 
pronouns are possessive adjectives used sub- 
stantively. [See pages 2770-1.] 


Lo svegliarsi la prima notte in carcere 1 e cosa 
orrenda ! Possibile ! possibile ! Io qui ? E 
non e ora un sogno' 2 il mio ? leri dunque mi 
arrestarono ? leri mi fecero quel lungo in- 
terrogatorio 3 , che domani, e chi sa fin quando 
dovra continuare ? ler sera, prima di addor- 
mentarmi, io piansi tanto, pensando a.i miei 
genitori ! II riposo, il perfetto silenzio, il 
breve sonno che aveva ristorato le mie forze 
mentali, sembravano avere centuplicato in 
me la potenza del dolore. In quell' assenza 
totale di distrazioni, 1'affanno di tutti i miei 
cari, ed in particolare 4 del padre e della madre, 
mi si pingeva nella fantasia con una forza 
incredibile. In quest' istante 5 , mi dicevo, 
dormono ancora tranquilli, o vegliano pensando 
forse con dolcezza a me, non punto presaghi 
del luogo dove io sono ! Oh, felici, se Dio li 
togliesse dal mondo prima che giunga loro la 
notizia della mia sventura ! Chi dara loro la 
forza di sostenere questo colpo ? Una voce 
interna pareva rispondermi : Colui che tutti gli 
afflitti invocano ad amano e sentono in se stessi. 
Colui che da,va la forza a una madre di seguire il 
figlio al Golgota e di stare sotto la sua croce. 7 
L'Amico degli infelici, 1'Am.ico dei mortali ! 

Quello fu il primo momento che la religione 
trionfo nel mio cuore ; ed all' amor filiale 8 devo 
questo benefizio. (Silvio Pellico, " Le Mie Pri- 

NOTES. 1. Prison. 2. Dream. 3. Examina- 
tion. 4. Especially. 5. At this moment. 6. 
To remove. 7. Cross. 8. Filial love. 


E venuto nessuno durante la mia assenza ? 

Sono venuti due signori, ma non hanno lascir,to 
i loro nomi. 

Chi ha i biglietti ? 

Ecco il mio e quello di mio fratello. 

Quale bagaglio volete ? 

Quello del mio socio, perche e piu grande. 

Son venuto per dirle addio, perche pa,rto 
stasera, e chi sa quando ci rivedremo. 

L'accompagnero alia stazione. 

Spero che il mare sia calmo, perche soffro 
molto quando il mare e agitato. 

Vuol mangiare qualche cosa ? 

Si, se c' e tempo. 

Le chiedo scusa, signore, non 1'avevo vista. 

Va anche lei a Milano ? 

Tanto meglio, faremo il viaggio insieme. 


The verbs that do not admit a personal sub- 
ject are called impersonal. 

1. Some relate to atmospheric phenomena, and, 
are only used in the third person singular, in 
the infinitive, gerund, and past participle, as : 

albeggia (ahlbeh-dgee-ah), it dawns 
annotta (ahnnottah), it becomes night 
piove (pee-oveh), it rains 
lampeggia (lahmpeh-dgee-ah), it lightens 
tuona (too-onah), it thunders 
nevica (nehveecah), it snows 
grdndina (grdhndeenah), it hails 
gela (dgehlah), it freezes 

2. Many impersonal expressions are formed 
with the verbs fare, essere, andare, valere, as : 

fa caldo, it is hot e giusto, it is correct 

fa freddo, it is cold va bene, things go well 
c'e nebbia, it is foggy va male, things go badly 
e meglio, it is better vale la pena, it is worth 

3. Other impersonal verbs have as subject 
an infinitive, with or without preposition, or a 
whole clause beginning with che (that), and 
with the verb in the subjunctive. These are 
verbs expressing : 

a. Necessity, convenience, chance, as : 
accade (ahccdhdeh), it happens 
bisogna (beesonee-ah), it is necessary 
conviene (convee-ehneh), it is suitable 
importa (eemportah), it is of consequence 
preme (prehmeh), it is urgent 

basta (bdhstah), it is enough 

tocca a me, a te, etc., it is my, your turn 

b. Appearance, satisfaction, and other senti- 
ments, as : 

pare (pdhreh), it seems 
sembra (sehmbrah), it appears 
risulta (reesool-tah), it results 
place (peedh-cheh), it pleases 
rincresce (reencreh-sheh), one is sorry 
etc. etc. 

4. Some of these verbs are also used person- 
ally, as : Egli sembra ammalato, He looks ill ; 
Sembra ch'egli sia ammalato, It seems that he 

5. Other verbs have a different meaning in 
the two constructions, as : 


Egli importa vino, He imports wine. 
Importa di studiare, It is of consequence to 


Egli conviene con me, He agrees with me. 
Conviene parlare, It is suitable to spea,k. 

6. Other impersonal expressions are active or 
intransitive verbs used in the reflexive form, as : 

si vede, one sees ; si e, one is ; 
si vive, one lives; etc., etc. 

7. Impersonal verbs are conjugated with the 
auxiliary essere. A few, however, take avere. 
Those relating to atmospheric conditions may 
be conjugated with both essere and avere : e 
piovuto and ha piovuto. 


1. In quel paese nevica molto raramente, ma 
piove sempre. 2. Piove a dirotto ; bisogna 
prendere una carrozza. 3. Bisognera partire di 
buon'ora, se vogliamo arrivare in tempo. 4. Ha 
grandinato e piovuto tutta la notte. t 5. Non 
tuona piu, ma lampeggia ancora. 6. E meglio 
non uscire oggi ; c' e molta nebbia. 7. Andiamo ; 
non vale la pena .di star qui a parlare di cose 
inutili. 8. II tuo amico sembra molto contento ; 
avra fatto buoni affari in borsa. 9. Sembra 
ch'egli sia contento, ma veramente non e cosi. 
10. La Russia ha importa to una gran quantita di 
grano quest'anno. 11. Importa decidersi subito, 
perche non v'e tempo da perdere. 12. Lei ha 
gia parlato abbastanza, ora tocca a me. 13. 
Rincresce il vedere dei giovani cosi indolenti. 
14. Si deve anche godere un poco in questa vita ; 
si vive una volta soltanto. 

1. Dress yourself quickly, beca-use we must go 
away (from here). 2. Did you enjoy yourself at 
the theatre last night ? 3. Do not approach too 
near the cage. 4. I begin to be tired ; let us 
stop a little. 5. If you wish to wash your hands, 
I will give you some hot water. 6. The gentle- 
men of the second floor ha,ve complained about 
the service. 7. Wake me at half-past seven 
to-morrow. 8. At what time do you usually get 
up ? 9. Get up ;' it is very late. 10. Do you 
remember that lady who was with us hi the 
country last summer ? 11. I remember her 
quite well. 12. One must never lose one's 
courage in misfortune. 13. Sit down, madam, 
and tell me everything ; you know that you can 
rely on me. 14. Listen to me, sir, and may 
Heaven forbid that a day should come in which 
you will repent of not having listened to me. 

1. This picture is worth nothing. 2. Be 
silent, your words are not worth listening to. 
3. I will be silent at once, but it is cert?,,in that 
you will never persuade me to do what I do not 
like to do. 4. I w&s so sorry that you did not 
remain with us the other evening. 5. He fell, 
but he did not hurt himself. 6. Do not go so 
soon; stay a little longer. 7. I cannot give 
more ; here is all I have. 8. We know how 
much your promises are worth. 9. I persuaded 
him to accept the employment which was offered 
to him. 10. If you do not like this room, I 
will give you another. 




By Louis A. Barbe, B.A. 


ConttBMd from 
page 4.-WI 

Fourth Conjugation, 1. BATTRE, to beat, 
battant, battu, je bats, tu bats, il bat, je battis. The 
reflexive verb se battre means " to fight." The 
\ n hs conjugated like battre are abattre, to knock 
down, fell ; se battre, to fight ; combattre, to com- 
bat ; debattre, to debate ; se debattre, to struggle ; 
rabattre, to pull down, to lower (the price). 

2. CONCLURE, to conclude, concluant, conclu, 
je conclus, tu conclus, il conclut, je conclus. 

3. CONDUIRE, to lead, conduisant, conduit, 
je conduis, tu conduis, il conduit, je conduisis. 

A number of verbs in TJIRE are conjugated 
in the same way. The most common of them 
are construire, to construct ; cuire, to cook, 
kike ; instruire, to instruct ; reduire, to reduce ; 
and traduire, to translate. 

4. CONNAITRE, to know, to be acquainted 
with, connaissant, connu, je connais, tu connais, 
il connait, je connus. 

The " " of the stem retains the circumflex 
accent wherever it is followed by " t" Other 
verbs conjugated in the same way are paraitre, to 
appear, seem ; apparattre, to appear, comparaitre, 
to appear (before a tribunal, etc.), disparaitre, to 
disappear ; reparaitre, to reappear ; recon- 
noitre, to recognise. 

5. CONFIRE, to pickle, preserve, confisant, 
confit, je confix, tu con/is, il confit, je confis. 

6. COUDRE, to sew, cousant, cousu, je couds, 
tu couds, il coud, je cousis. 

7. CROIRE, to believe, croyant, cru, je crois, 
tu crois, il croit, je crus. 

8. CROITRE, to grow, croissant, cru, je crois, 
l>i Grots, il croit, je crus. In this verb there is a 
circumflex accent not only over " i " when it is 
followed by " J," but over " " and " u " in all 
the forms that would otherwise be identical with 
those of croire. 

9. CRIRE, to write, ecrivant, ecrit, j'ecris, 
t" >'rris, il ecrit, j'ecrivis. 

All derivatives are conjugated in the same 
manner. Those in most frequent use are decrire, 
to describe ; inscrire, to inscribe ; proscrire, to 
proscribe ; souscrire, to subscribe ; and transcrire 
10 transcribe. 

10. JOINDRE, to join, joignant, joint, je joins, 
t" iiru, il joint, je joignis. 

All verbs of which the infinitive ends in aindre, 

nnlrc, or oindre, are conjugated like this. 

Til-- following are some of them : contraindre, 

"mi : 'indre, to gird ; feindre, to feign ; 

li ; teindre, to dye ; enfreindre, 

to infringe; /,< indre, to paint; rejoindre, to 

U- : oindre, to anoint ; and the reflexive 

ran * pbindre, to complain. 

U. I. M:K. to read, ii fl -nt. In, ,v u s lu ;/., # 

I-'. MI.IIKI:. to put. put on, mettant, mis, jt 
' iMto, if nnf. f,- w/.<. 

Tin- numerous <|.-riv;it ivs ,f this verb follow 
tli'- MTU.- conjugation. Amount them are 
tfiMMre, to admit ; cmnw.ftre, to commit ; cam- 

promettre, to compromise ; omettre, to omit ; 
permcttre, to allow ; promettre, to promise ; 
soumettre, to submit. 

13. MOUDRE, to grind, moulant, moulu, je 
mouds, tu mouds, il moud, je moulus. 

14. NAITRE, to be born, naissant. ne, je nais, 
tu nais, il nait, je naquis. 

This verb is conjugated with etre in its com- 
pound tenses : je suis ne, I was born. 

15. NTJIRE, to injure, nuisant, nui, je nuis, 
tu nuis, il nuit (je, nuisis). 

According to the Academy, nuire, and luire, to 
shine, conjugated like it, have no past definite. 

16. PLAIRE, to please, plaisant, plu, je plais, 
tu plais, il plait (with circumflex accent), je plus. 

The derivatives complaire, to gratify ; deplaire, 
to displease ; the reflexive verb se plaire a, 
to delight in ; the verb taire, to conceal, hush up ; 
and the reflexive se taire, to be silent, are all 
conjugated like plaire. 

17. PRENDRE, to take, prenant, pris, je prends, 
tu prends, il prend, nous prenons, Us prennent, 
je pris. 

This verb doubles the " n " before the endings 
e, es, ent. It has numerous derivatives which 
are conjugated like it, and amongst which are 
apprendre, to learn ; comprendre, to understand ; 
entreprendre, to undertake ; surprendre, to sur- 

18. REPAITRE, to feed, to feast, is derived 
from paitre, to graze ; repaissant, repu, je repais, 
tu repais, il repait, je repus. 

This verb is also used reflexively : se repaitre, 
and chiefly figuratively. 

19. RJSSOUDRE, to resolve, solve, resolvant, 
resolu, je resous, tu resous, il resout, je resolus. 

This verb also means to dissolve from one 
substance into another, and then has resous, 
resoute, for its past participle. Absoudre, to 
absolve, saiddissoudre, to dissolve, are conjugated 
in the same way ; but their respective past 
participles are absous, m., absoute, f., and dissous, 
m., dissoute, f., Absolu and dissolu are adjectives 
meaning absolute and dissolute. 

20. EIRE, to laugh, riant, ri, je ris, tu ris, 
il rit, je ris. 

Sourire, to smile, follows the same conjuga- 

21. STJFFIRE, to suffice, suffisant, suffi, je 
suffix, tu suffis, il suffit, je suffis. 

22. SUIVRE, to follow, suivant, suivi, je suis, 
tu suis, il suit, je suivis. 

23. VAINCRE, to overcome, vainquant, vaincu, 
je vaincs, tu vaincs, il vainc, je vainquis. 

Convaincre, to convince, is conjugated in the 
same way. 

24. VIVRE, to live, vivant, vecu, je vis, tu vis, 
U rit, je vecns. 

This verb has two derivatives, conjugated 
like it, revivre, to revive, and survivre, to survive. 


1. When the ancients besieged (assieger) a 
town they battered (beat) the walls with (a coups 
de) rani(s) (le beh'er). 

2. One is never beaten without being struck 
(f rapper) ; but one may (pent) be struck without 
being beaten. 

3. The muleteer (muletier) who served us as 
'de) guide, beat his mules in a frightful (epouvan- 
table) way (la faqori). 

4. We have concluded nothing, but that is 
not my fault. 

5. He is a,n s,uthor whose works (ouvrage, m.) 
have been translated into all languages (la 

6. According to a distinguished writer 
(ecrivain), if you always translate, you will 
never be translated ; and yet (cependant) 
another writer, just (tout) as distinguished, has 
said that if you wish (voulez) to be translated 
(th?,t one translate, subj.) some (un) day, you 
must yourself begin by translating. 

7. I have seen him only once, but I should 
know him amongst (a) thousand. 

8. That young girl sews, sings, reads ; that 
is all she needs to be happy. 

9. Who is it that used to say that, wherever 
(partout ou) the lion's skin did not suffice, the 
fox's (renard) skin was to be sewn to it that is 
to say, cunning (la ruse) to be joined to strength 
(la force) ? 

10. There are people who account the rest 
(le reste) of men as (pour) nothing, and think 
(believe) they are (to be) born only for them- 

11. An honourable (honnete) man who says 
yes and no deserves (meriter) to be believed ; 
his character (le caractere) swears for him. 

12. Any (tout) author whom one is obliged 
to read twice to understand (entendre) him, 
writes badly. 

13. What is written is written means (veut 
dire) that one can change nothing in (a) what is 

14. The Good Shepherd (pasteur) has said : 
" I know my sheep and my sheep know Me." 

15. It is admitted by all civilised (civiliser) 
peoples that the person of an ambassador is 
inviolable and sacred. 

16. You depict (paint) the charms (le charme) 
of country ( e) life so well to us tha>t 
you make us feel inclined to (donner Venvie de) 
go (and) live (kabiter) in a (au) village. 

17. The Gauls (Gaulois) used to transmit 
(the) news (les nouvelles) to each other by (en) 
lighting .fires on the heights (la hauteur). 

18. The days lengthen (grow) from the 
21st of December to the 21st of June ; they 
draw in (decroitre) from the 21st of June to the 
21st of December. 

19. Men are like the flowers which appear 
and disappear with an incredible (incroyable) 
rapidity (la rapidite). 

20. On the llth of November, 1572, a new 
star appeared suddenly (tout a coup) in the sky, 
where it shone (briller) with (de) the most 
vivid (vif) brilliancy (eclat, m.) ; it disappeared 
in the month of May, 1574, after having lasted 
16 months. 

21. We read in Genesis (la Genese) that the 
ancient patriarchs (le patriarche) lived a very 
long time, and that Abraham lived 175 years. 


22. We write from left to right ; the Jews 
write from right to left (gauche) ; the Arabs 
(Arabe) write similarly (egalement) from right 
to left. 

23. The French overcame the Austrians 
(Autrichiens) at Jemmapes and at Marengo ; 
they were overcome by the English at Waterloo. 

24. The ancients used to grind corn with 
little millstones (la meule) worked (mues) by 
hand (a bras d'hommes). 

25. Unjust actions always injure (to) their 

26. Cleopatra (Cleopdtre) took a large pearl 
(la perle) which she threw into a cup (la tasse), 
and, when she had seen it dissolved, she swal- 
lowed (avaler) it. 

27. You laugh, and with reason, at (of) the 
folly (les sottises) of men, at which I should do 
(ferais) well to laugh also, and at which I would 
laugh if my digestion were better (if I digested, 
digerer) and if I slept better. 

28. What (a) passion is (que) envy ! It 
follows the man of merit even to (jusqu'a) the 
brink (le bord) of his grave (la tombe). 

In all verbs the endings of the Imperfect 
Indicative, of the Past Definite, of the Future, 
of the Present Conditional, and of the Imperfect 
Subjunctive, are regular, whatever peculiarities 
there may be in the stem. Consequently, only 
the first person singular of those tenses will be 
indicated. Except in special cases, the Impera- 
tive will not be given, as its first and second 
persons are identical with thj3 corresponding 
persons of the Present Indicative, and its third 
persons borrowed from the Present Subjunctive. 

First Conjugation 

1. A Her, to go, allant, alle. 

Ind Pres. je vais, tu vas, il va, nous allons, 
vous allez, Us vont. 

Imperf. fallais. Future. firai. 

Past Def, fallai. Cond. Pres. firais. 

Imperat. va, qu'il aille, allons, allez, qu'ils 

Subj. Pres. que faille, que tu allies, qu 1 il aille, 
que nous allions, que vous alliez, qu'ils aillent. 

Imperf. que fallasse. 

The imperative va takes s when followed by 
y : vas-y, go there. 

The compound tenses of aller are conjugated 
with the auxiliary etre. 

Idiomatic Uses of Aller. (a) Aller is 
used, in connection with another verb in the 
Infinitive, to express a proximate future, and 
then means " to be going to," "to be about to," 
" to be on the point of " : Je vais vous le donner, 
I am going to give it to you ; J'allais vous 
ecrire, I was going to write to you. 

(b) Aller also means " to suit," " to fit." It 
is frequently used instead of se porter, with re- 
ference to the state of health : Son habit ne lui 
va pas, His coat does not fit him ; Comment allez- 
vous? Comment vous portez-vous? How do you 

(c) Aller is used in the following expressions : 
aller se promener, to go for a walk ; aller a pied; 
to walk (go on foot) ; aller en voiture, to drive , 
aller a cheval, to ride ; aller en bateau, to go for a 



MB; >, alh-r Hr (impersonal), to be at stake; 

,7 ,/ ,,t <! I" '". IK.- is ut itake. 

(d) The Imperative of //' i- "*' >l1 tori " 
Interjections: Fa/ -I//''--' Believemej lean 
..-II vou : Suivly. .!//"*/ Come! Come now ! 

.4/tow '/""'/ Getaway! Nonsense! 
_>. S'en aller, to go ft way, *'en allant, Jen 

etant allr. .. , 

/ p re rien rat*, tn t tn ras, il s en 
va, rum* MMU >' nlhn.0. r<i* rous en allez, il 
yen it ml. , 

Past m'en suis alle, tu t en es alle, 
il Jen est alle, elle Jen est allee, nous nous 
en sommes alles, vous vous en ties alles, Us Jen 
sont alles, elles Jen sont allies. 

All the other tenses are conjugated in this 
way, by putting rien, fen, Jen, nous en, vous en, 
sen between the subject and the verb. 

Imperat. (positive). va-Cen, qu'il Jen aille, 
attons-nous-en, allez-vou#-en, qu'ils Jen aillent. 

Imperat. (negative). ne fen va pas, qu'il ne 
Jen aille pas, ne nous en allons pas, ne vous en 
allez pas, qrfils ne sen aillent pas. 

The following examples will show the order of 
the words in interrogative and negative forms : 

Ten vas-tu ? Are you going away ? S'en 
est-il alle ? Has he gone away ? Je ne rien 
vais pas, I am not going away ; Us ne Jen 
seraient pas alles, They would not have gone 
away ; Ne vous en irez-vous pas ? Will you not 
go away ? Ne Jen est-elle pas allee ? Has she 
not gone away ? 

3. Envoyer, to send, envoyant, envoye, 
fenvoie, fenvoyai. 

The only irregular tenses of this verb are the 
Future and the Conditional. 

Future. fenverrai. Conditional. fenverrais. 


1. La terre est echauffee par le soleil. 

2. L'egoiste n'est aime de personne. 

3. Les chiffres ont ete inventes par les Arabes. 

4. La femme fut trompee par le serpent. 

5. Les orages sont prevus et annonces par les 

L'Amerique fut decouverte par Christophe 
Coloiuh <-n mil quatre cent quatre-vingt-douxe. 
7. L'imprimerie fut inventee par Gutenberg 
dans le quinzieme siecle. 

lx cap de Bonne -Esperance fut double pour 
1 i ])r-rniiTi- fois j> ir les Portugui-. 

uu I etes-vous revenu de Paris? 

10. Quel jour vos amis sont-ils partis pour 
Li mdres ? 

11. Dcpuis que la comete est apparue line 
foule dc gens paneni It unit a la regarder. 

12. Quand nou^ >n\\\\\\t-~. arrives a la gare le 
ii rtait (l.'-ja parti. 

I::. II >niil)lc (juc It- snlcil tournc autour de la 
terre, <|uan<l, an i-outraire, il est certain que 
c'est ct-llc. ci fjiii tourin' autour <lu siil.-il. 

11. S'il irrl,. 1,. niatin, il fait >ou\ciit beau 
la joornfo. 

1."). 11 f;iut qii'iim- port.' s<it ouvertc ou 
frrm<M>. flit uu piuv-rl)- franoais. 

itimt dit. Que rousfaut-ilde plug? 

IT ' > - ii^trriirnt IT (u'il me faiit 

18. Ses amis sont des gens tres comme il 

19. II s'en est fallu de. bien peu qu'il ne fub 

20. Pour bien parler, il faut dire ce qu'il iaut, 
tout ce qu'il faut, rien que ee qu'il faut, et le 
dir? cornine il faut. 


I. Notre brigade assaillira 1'ennemi dans ses 
retranchements demain matin. 

2. Quelques coups de feu partent ; a ce bruit 
Napoleon tressaille ; la campagne de Russie 
est ouverte. 

3. Tout le monde sait que c est Christophe 
Colomb qui a decouvert 1'Amerique. 

4. II n'ouvre jamais la bouche sans dire quelque 

5. Le bruit qui se faisait dans 1 assemblee 
couvrait la voix de 1'orateur. 

6. II est certain que la mer a autrefois couvert 
vine grande partie de la terre habitee. 

7. L'eau bouillirait plus vite si vous allumiez 
un bon feu. 

8. Fran9ois premier dormit sur un affut 
la nuit de la bataille de Marignan. 

9. Nous nous endormons tous les soirs pen- 
dant qu'il nous lit le journal. 

10. Lorsque nous etions jeunes nous dor- 
mions douze heures sans nous reveiller. 

II. Isaac ayant demande a son pere ou etait 
la victime qui devait etre immolee, Abraham 
repondit : " Dieu y pourvoira." 

12. Charles le Temeraire perit devant Nancy, 
trahi par un mercenaire napolitain, et tue 
en fuyant apres la bataille, par un gentilhomme 

13. Fuyons ensemble au fond des forets ; 
il vaut mieux se fier aux tigres qu'aux hommes. 

14. II y a des gens qui mentent simplement 
pour mentir. 

15. La satire ment sur les gens de lettres 
pendant leur vie, et 1'eloge ment apres leur mort. 

16. On lui a offert une place a Paris, mais 
il ne desire pas quitter Londres. 

17. II est utile aux superbes de tomber, 
parce que leur chute leur ouvre les yeux. 

18. On est ordinairement moins fache quand 
on part que quand on voit partir. 

19. Nous aurions clu partir pour la campagne 
hier, mais nous ne partirons que demain. 

20. Quand tu mens, la conscience ne te re- 
proche-t-elle pas quelque chose, et ne te repens- 
tu pas aussitot ? 

21. Le juge qui est fidele a son devoir ne sent 
ni regrets ni courroux. 

22. II y a des gens qui semblent croire que 
le bonheur de les servir est une assez haute 
recompense pour ceux qui les servent. 

23. Sortez quand vous voudrez, mais je vous 
avertis que je ne sortirai qu'apres que vous 
serez sortis. 

24. Est-ce la peine de vivre quand on souffre ? 
Oui, car on espere tou jours qu'on ne souffrira 
pas demain. 

25. Le malheur de ces gens qui savent tout, 
c'est qu'ils ne prevoient jamais rien. 





By Amalia de Albert! 6 H. S. Duncan 

Third Class 

This class embraces verbs of the third con- 
jugation with a radicals, which is never expanded 
to ie, but changes into i : 

1. Throughout the present indicative, except- 
ing the first and second persons plural. 

2. Throughout the present subjunctive. 

3. Throughout the imperative, excepting 
the second person plural. 

4. Throughout the rest of the conjugation, 
whenever the verbal termination contains the 
diphthong ie or io. 

Servir, to serve. Gerund, sirviendo. Ind. 

Pres. sirvo, sirves, sirve, servimos, servis, sirven. 
Past Def. servi, serviste, sirvio, servimos, 

servisteis, sirvieron. 

Imperat. sirve, sirva, sirvamos, sirvia, sirvan. 
Subj. Pres.- sirva, sirvas, sirva, sirvamos, 

sirvais, sirvan. 

Subj. Imp. sirviera, sirvieras, sirviera, sirvier- 

amos, sirvierais, sirvieran, or sirviese, sirvieses, etc. 
Subj. Fut. sirviere, sirvieres, tirviere, sir- 

vieremos, sirviereis, sirvieren. 

The imperfect and future of the indicative and 

the conditional are regular. 

Euphonic Changes. Verbs of this class 

ending in eir change e into i as usual, but drop 

the i of the diphthong ie in the verbal ter- 
minations in order to avoid the double i. 

Reir, to laugh. Gerund, riendo. Subj. Imp. 

riera, rieras, riera, rieramos, rierais, rieran. 
These verbs also follow the same euphonic 

changes as the regular verbs viz. : Those ending 

in gir change y into j before a and o. 

Regir, to rule. Ind. Pres.rijc, riges, rige, 

regimos, regis, rigen. 

Subj. Pres. rija, rijas, rija, rijamos, rijais, rijan. 
Those in guir drop the u before a and o. 
Seguir, to follow. Ind. Pres. sigo, sigues, 

sigue, seguimos, seguis, siguen. 

Subj. Pres. siga, sigas, siga, sigamos, sigais, 


Verbs ending in nir drop the i of the diphthongs 

ie and io in the verbal termination. 

Cehir, to gird. Gerund, cinendo. 
This change is optional with verbs whose 

ending is ch ; thus the gerund of henchir, to fill, 

may be either hinchiendo or hinchendo. 

List of verbs of the third class, changing the 

radical e into i : 

cente, to gird investir, to invest 

colegir, to deduce inrertir, to invert 

compttte, to compete medir, to measure 

tjmcebir, to conceive pedir, to ask 

conseguir, to obtain persecute, to persecute 

constrenir, to constrain prosecute, to prosecute 

controvertir, to controvert recenir, to re-gird 
derretir, to melt reelegir, to re-elect 

desceilir, to ungirdle rendir, to render, surrender 

despedte, to take leave rente, to quarrel 

destenir, to discolour repedir, to re-demand 

eleqir, to elect repetir, to repeat 

embestir, to attack retenir, to re-dye 

expedte, to despatch revestir, to dress 

frete, to fry seguir, to follow 

gemir, to lament servir, to serve 

henchir, to fill tenir, to dye 

henir, to knead vestir, to clothe 

impedir, to prevent 

Fourth Class 

Irregular verbs of the fourth class end in uir 
and guir. The peculiarity of these verbs is the 
insertion of a y before the verbal termination : 

1. Throughout the present indicative, except- 
ing the first and second persons plural. 

2. Throughout the present subjunctive. 

3. Throughout the imperative, excepting 
the second person plural. 

4. Throughout the rest of the conjugation, 
whenever the verbal termination should contain 
the diphthongs ie or io a y is substituted for the i. 

Verbs ending in guir drop the diseresis before y. 
Huir, to flee. Gerund, huyendo. 

Ind. Pres. huyo, huyes, huye, huimos, huis, 

Past. Def. hui, huiste, huyo, huimos, huisteis, 

Imperat. huye, huya, huydmos, huid, huyan. 

Subj. Pres. huya, huyas, huya, huydmos, 
huyais, huyan. 

Subj. Imp. huyera, huyeras, huyera, huyera- 
mos, huyerais, huyeran, or huyese, etc. 

Subj. Fut. huyere, huyeres, huyere, huyeremos, 
huyereis, huyeren. 

Argxiir, to argue. Gerund, arguyendo. 

Ind. Pres. arguyo, arguyes, arguye, aryiiimos, 
argiiis, argiiyen. ' 

The imperfect, future, and conditional of the 
indicative are regular. 

All the following verbs are conjugated accord- 
ing to the above rule. 

atribuir, to attribute 
coneluir, to conclude 
constitute, to constitute 
construir, to construct 
contribute, to contribute 
destitute, to make destitute 
destruir, to destroy 
dilute, to dilute 
disminuir, to diminish 
distribute, to distribute 
estatute, to enact 
excluir, to exclude 

A witch 
A sorcerer 
A compass 
The mist 
A brute 
To nod 
The corpse 

Un brujq 
Una brujula 
La bruma 
Un bruto 
El cadaver 

The locksmith El cerrajero 

The bolt El cerrojo 

The brewer 

The beer 

The basket 

A gift 

A dagger 


To date 


The tree 

An apricot- 

An acacia 

^n almond- 

A birch-tree 

The heather 

Box (shrub) 

A cedar 

A cherry-tree Un cerezo 
A chestnut- Un castano 

An evergreen Una encina 


fluir, to flow 
imbuir, to imbue 
incluir, to include 
institute, to institute 
obstrute, to obstruct 
prostitute, to prostitute 
rtclute, to seclude 
rccsnstruir, to reconstruct 
redargilir, to retort 
refluir, to ebb 
restitute, to restore 
(institute, to substitute 
Vocabulary Vocabulario 
Una bruja ] An oak Un roble 

Brujeria (f.) A lemon-tree Un limonero 

An orange- Un naranjo 

A palm-tree 

A fig-tree 

An ash-tree 

A strawberry 
plant a 

A raspberry- Un frambueso 

A pomegran- Un granado 


j The reeds, 


A laurel-tree 

A mulberry- 

A walnut-tree Un nqgal 

An olive-tree Uu olivo 

An elm Un olmo 

A poplar Un alamo 

A pine-tree Un pino 

A pear-tree Un peral 

An apple-tree Un manzario 

A plum-tree Un ciruelo 

A willow 

A weeping 

A lime-tree 

El cervecero 
La cerveza 
El canasto 
Una dddiva 
Una daga 
Deleite (m.) 
El arbol 
Un alberi- 

Un acacia 
Un almen- 


Un abedul 
El brezo 
Un cedro 

Una higuera 
Un fresno 
Un fresal 

Los juncos 

Un laurel 
Un moral 

Un sauce 
Un sauce 

Un tilo 



Bxxmoni \vi. (l) 

Translate the following into Spanish : 

, H. -..iiied in serving one" country. 

, fllow l,ad e\ani|>4e i< evil : 101 US alW 

H do n,.t compete with that firm; its prices 
^^''Uns,!,,!,:..,, colour comes out 
am-i the hands. 
;. We rheerfnlly take leave of a disagreeable and 

t "!" >l lt i SdiffieuK to choose a travelling companion 
but on.,- ,-hosen, one must be [on good termsl 
n I with him until the end of the journey. 

8 One must reflect before investing one s patri- 
mony, as when invested one runs the risk of being 
unable to withdraw it. 

9. Let us measure the cloth before cutting out the 
d,,ak. and ,-ut it according to the measure. 

in. Th. > pursued the enemy until they c 
proceed no further. 

11. To quarrel with one's friends is the action oi 

'T.'! Let us contribute good works for the pood of 
our neighbours, but let the contribution be judicious. 

Translate the following into English : 
I . Ks tan vieja y fea que parece una bruja. 
2. i Lastimo a ese nino, es un bruto ! 
:{. Ese hombre es un cervecero, ha ganado su 
fortuna vendiendo cerveza. 

4. Me enseno una daga muy antigua, es de un 
trabajo hermoso. 

5. El fresal de mi jardin tiene de extension media 


in el huerto hay arboles frutales muy hermosos. 
7. Los higos, las peras, y las manzanas son muy 
id lidosos. 

I brezo crece en los montes. 

9. Los limones y naranjas que crecen en nuestros 
limoneros y naranjos tienen fama por lo bueno que 

Tambien nuestros fresales crian fresas de gran 

10. La flor del granado es tan bonita como su 

11. Es la moda de hacer muebles de junco, son 
Imnitos pero poco duraderos. 

12. El noj de la Alcazar de Sevilla es celebrado por 
KU antipuedad y hermosura. 

1:5. Con almendras y avellana se hacen en Espafia 
mi dnlee <|up Hainan turron que es muy bueno. 

14. Los olivares son tristes y melancolicos, el verde 
'! in folia je es cnsi 


1. Hemos cerrado todos las puertas, y ahora 

. dl la-; vi-ntanas. 

! la pena rogar que lo perdonen ; ruegen 
:{. HI olor (l<i esas flores es un verdadero perfume. 

4. !'.-< <lili''il adijuirir t'iima, y aim mas difiril 

i despues de adquirM i. 

5. Es bueno alentar a la juventud ; yo la aliento 

8. E* ditieil aprobar cuando un amigo nos critica 
con \ iprobacion de los que nos rodean es 

neceaaria para nuestra felicidad. 

,M'- atender a nuestros negocios ! 

ndado al atravesar la plaza ; yo la 
i-s(i xi.-mj.rc mirando a la dereeha, y a la 

'|ii'- no liny jicur ciego que aquel 
T. El s.-r oiego ae.-n-a de nuestros 

I". .\M..,tr,i amistad fn.'- ciiu.-ntada hace anos- 
Minto-t. La-i trikilaciones son buenas 
para cimcntar lni.-i..i- i v|,i< i< ,n> >. 

1 ' l'' st '' '.i <|iu- se cnliente, y hay que 

cal.-ntar taml>in .1 alnm.-r/' .. 


1 The political exile to which he was condemn. < I 
ade his fortune when his party returned to power. 

2 To awaken the anger of a passionate person i 
dm.'erous; once awakened it is difficult to appease. 

3 It is more difficult to man to govern his passions 
than to govern a nation. 

4. I absolutely deny having said such a thing, and 
when they confront me with him, he will not be able 

to ^ 6 lf i^said that it is better to patch one's cloak 
in time than to let the patch be bigger than the 

6 He who sows thorns cannot expect flowers to 
spring up ; it is better to sow good seed than to sow 

7. The fool dreams what he will, and the wise man 
what lie can. Dreaming cannot be commanded. 

From a short story by Juan Ochoa, entitled : 

Shade, shade of green 


Sombra, sombra de 

leaves, was what .both hojas verdes, era lo que 
sought for in their hours buscaban ambos en las 
of love. 

sang to- 
spring ! 

horas de amor. 

; Cuanto cantaron jun- 
tos aquella primavera. 
i Cuantas ternezas se 

How they 
gether that 
What tender things they . 

said to each other on a dijeroii los dos en la copa 
tree-top swayed by the de un arbol agitado por 
breeze ! la brisa ! 

If looking up at the sky Si ella mirando al ciel 
she burst into ecstatic song 
he would listen atten- 
tively with his tiny quiver 

ing head on one side, and 
when the last notes died 
away upon the beak of 

se arrobaba en su cancion 
oiala el atento, ladeando 
un poco la cabecita 
temblorosa ; y cuando 
morian las ultimas 
notes en el pico de su 

his mate he would shake companera, sacudiase las 
his feathers, draw him- plumas, se erguia con 
self up prettily, and in gentileza para entonar 
lii< turn intone the la of tambien la trova del 
amor ardiente j Gilguero 
de mas inspiracion a mas 
fachenda ! Era grande y 
tenia el plumaje limpio 
y hermoso. Habia 

pasado en la vida sus 
aventuras serias y graves. 
Una mauana cayo preso 
en liga ; vio correr hacia 
el cuatro chiquillos locos 

ithgleerunniiigtowards de gozo ; hizo entonces 
un esfuerzo supremo y 
escape, dejo alii plumas, 
com pro con sangres la 
libertad de sus alas, 
pero logro huir a. la 
espesura, a los rincones 
sombrios del follaje, al 
hogar de hojas de sus 

ardent love. The most 
magnificent and long- 
winded of linnets ! He 
was large and beauti- 
fully sleek of plumage. 
He had suffered grave 
and perilous adventures 
in his life. One morning 
ho fell into a snare ; he 
saw four children wild 


him ; then he made 
supreme effort and es- 
caped ; leaving feathers 
behind, he bought the 
liberty of his wings with 
blood, but he succeeded 
in flying to the thicket, 
to the dark nooks of foli- 
age, to the leafy home of suefios. 
his dreams. He flew far Aquel dia volo mucho, 
that day, eagerly tlrink- bebio con ansia la dicha 
ing in the joy of liberty, de ser libre, y a una 
and with a blow of his a ran a que sorprendio ace- 
beak slew a spider whom chando a, una mosca, 
he surprised, lying in am- 
bush for a fly. 

What labour love laid 
upon him and his mate ! 
Luckily she turned out 
the most industrious and 
wisest bird ever seen. She 
was up to everything. 
Thread, shreds, fluff, 
horsehair she carried 

matola de un picotazo. 

j A cuantos afanes les 
llevo el amor, a el y a su 
companera ! Gracias que 
esta salio la pajara mas 
hacendosa y sabihonda 
que se habia visto. Es- 
taba en todo. Hilos, 
brignos, tamo, cerdas, 

everything home in her todo se lo colgabadel pico, 

beak to make the nest, 

and while her lover 

twisted and wove these 

y lo traia a casa para el 
nido ; y mientras su 
amante emaranaba y 


materials, she watched 
him lovingly, twittering 
softly, and suggesting 
her own plans also. 

Thus they raised a 
temple to their love, and 
therein were happily 
united, hidden in mys- 
terious foliage, having the 
blue of heaven, the rays 
of the sun, the caresses 
of the breeze, and the 
music of leaves for their 
wedding present. 

They had a family, four 
rapacious imps who were 
transformed into mouths 
as soon as they smelt food ; 
they had to be fed ex- 
peditions must be made 
in search of food ; they 
spent the whole day at 
it. The warmth of their 
feathers, the bread out of 
their mouths nothing 
sufficed the gluttons. 
What drudgery ! 

One day when feathers 
had begun to grow on the 

tejia aquellos materialep, 
ella le contemplaba en- 
amorada, charloteando en 
voz baja y dando tambien 
sus planes. 

Asi elevaron a su amor 
un templo, y en el se 
unieron f el ices, escon- 
didos en la fronda mis- 
teriosa teniendo como re- 
galo de bod as aquel 
cielo, rayos de sol, cari- 
cias de la brisa, musica 
de hojas. 

Tuvieron hijos ; cuatro 
diablejos tragones, que 
todos se volvian boca en 
cuanto olian comida ; 
habia que cebarlos habia 
que salir y buscar alimen- 
tos. En esto se pasaban 
el dia. El calor de sus 
plumas, el pan de sus 
bocas todo era poco 
para aquellos golosos. 
; Que fatigas ! 

Cuando los pequeiiue- 
los comenzaron a echar 

little ones, and the tree 
was enlivened by their 
twitter, their parents 
went out in search of food. 
They returned at night- 
fall they found no nest 
nor birds in the tree, 
there were none to feed. 
Then came mournful love, 
the wailing song, the 
measureless lament, 

which lost itself in the 
solitude of the grove. 
When night drew in they 
kept the vigil of their 
sorrow together above 
the ruins of the nest ; 
they never closed their 
eyes, and they had no 
song to greet the light of 
dawn that day. 

Juan Ochoa (1864- 
1 899), a young author and 
journalist whose early 
death was a great loss to 
Spanish literature. He 
is renowned for the deli- 
cate beauty of his short 

pluma y alegraban el 
arbol con su charla, sa- 
lieron un dia los padres en 
busca de alimento. Vol- 
vieron al obscurecer. No 
hallaron en el arbol nido 
ni pajaros, no tuvieron 
a quien cebar. Entonces 
comenzo el amor triste, el 
cantar llorando, la queja 
inmensa que se perdio en 
la soledad de la arboleda. 
Cuando cerro la noche, 
velaron juntos su dolor, 
sobre las ruinas del nido ; 
no pegaron los ojos, y a la 
luz del alba de aquel dia 
no la saludaron cantando. 

Juan Ochoa (1864- 
1899), un joyeii autor y 
periodista cuya temprana 
muerte fue una gran 
perdida para la literatura 
espanola. Es afamado 
por la delicada hermo- 
sura de sus cuentos. 



By Harald Clegg, F.B.E.A. 

Esperanto is an artificial language 
perfected in 1887 by Dr. Louis 
Zamenhof, an oculist and linguist 
of Warsaw, and is so called from 
his pen name, " Dr. Esperanto " 
(the hoping one). It is intended 
to serve the purpose of an auxiliary 
language for international use, and 
possesses the advantages of extreme 
simplicity, logical construction, 
flexibility, and adaptability to 
present and future requirements, as 
well as ease of oral comprehension. 

The language is now taught 
at many continental universities, 
lycees and military colleges, and is 
rapidly gaining favour at grammar 
schools and colleges in this country. 
The London County Council has 
made it a subject for instruction 
in its schools. 

The lessons appearing in this 
course have been carefully gradu- 
ated, it being assumed, however, 
that the student knows already the 
meanings of ordinary grammatical 
terms. He should aim first at 
reading, then at writing, and finally 
at spea'ki'ng the language with ease. 


The Esperanto 
letters viz. : 

A (a) B (bo) 

D (do) E (e) 

JO'o) Jtfc. 

M (mo) N (wo) 

R (ro) S (so) 

U (u) U (o) 


Iphabet ]i 


S (So) 

C (co) 







The consonants are pronounced 
exactly as in English, with the 
following exceptions : 

c as ts in its 
c , ch church 
g gun or mug 
g gent or dg in edge 
h hot (always aspirated) 
ch loch (or German ch) 
This is the sound of the ordinary 
h gutturally pronounced, and with 
considerable aspiration. It is repre- 
sented phonetically by kh. 
j as y in you, yet 
j zh, or like s in pleasure 
s s in sit or bus 
s sh in show, shift 
u. This letter, which is a con- 
sonant and equivalent to the 
English w, can never stand alone. 
It is always preceded either by 
e or a, and pronounced approxi- 
mately thus : 
au as ow in cow ; eu as ay-oo in 


the sounds being uttered close 
together, with one emission of 
the voice, so as to produce a 
single syllable. It must be under- 
stood that this example (gray- 
ooze) is not perfect the true 
sound of eii not being found in 
any English word. 

The five vowels are pronounced 
as follows, all being pure sounds 
and of medium length : 

a as ah. 

e as eh. 

i as ee in teem. 

o as oh (very round and entirely 
avoiding any approach towards 

u as oo in boot. 

Every vowel, no matter where 
placed in a word, is always clearly 

Besides the two combinations 
above there are four others, a/, 
ej, of, and uj. Remember that the 
;' here still retains the sound of the 
English y as before stated, so that 
these combined letters become : 
ahy (ah-y), ehy, ohy, "and ooy, the 
sounds being found in : pie, play, 
boy, and quill. Each of these four 
combinations represents, of course, 
but one syllable. 

Every word is pronounced as 
written. There are no silent letters. 
The tonic accent in every word which 
is not a monosyllable falls on the 
penultimate (last syllable but one). 
Give every letter its full sound and 
pronounce nacio nah-tsee'-oh, alia 
ah-lee'-ah; notnahf-s-yoh&ndahl-yah. 
Slightly roll the letter r so that no 
ambiguity will arise when such 
words as karto and kato are pro- 

Imitated Pronunciation. Read 
aloud the following words, carefully 
observing the pronunciation printed 
by each : 

(The stressed syllables are indi 
cated by accents.) 

buso (boo'-shoh), multaj (mool'- 
tahy), tridek (tree'-dehk), Novem- 
bro (Nok-vehm'-broh), naskita 
(nahs-kee'-tah), infanojn (een-fah' 
nohjn), amuze (ah-moo'-zeh), ho- 
diau (hoh-dee'-ow), klerulo (kleh- 
roo'-loh),neuzi (neh-oo'-zee), Euro- 
po (Ehoo-roh'-poh), monaho (moh- 
nah'-kho), *scienca (stsee-ehn'- 
tsah) pezilo (peh-zee'-loh), senigi 
(cheh-nee-gee), laciga (lah-tsee- 



. fnriru (fnh-ree'-roo), crluntr 

ii'H'-t>li). nrninn (in'h-nee- 

!;inuj<> (kliri-niMi'-f/nli). sip;i- 

/Miii-iitili'-rnli). plena- 

-11 In (pkh-nak-dgoo'-loh), jurintaj 

tnlii/), ie (ce'-eh), maja 

(tnnh'-i/a/i), ivvolucio (reh-roh- 

loo-tsee'-oh), tiuj (tee'-ooy), iliaj 

* The exact sound of sc is found 
in the last three letters of " mists " 


There is but one article in 
:unto la (the), which remttins 
the same for all genders, cases, and 
number*. The indefinite articles, 
/;. an, are not translated. The 
use of the definite article in Es- 
peranto is very much the same as in 
Kii^lish. It is used when the noun 
which follows must be distinguished 
from others of the same species. 
l.\. ; 1 have, the (la) money (the 
money which has been previously 
mentioned or referred to), which 
id different in meaning from I have 
money. I sold the (la) horse (a horse 
which must be distinguished from 
nt hers). Nouns of abstract quality 
take the article la, as La fiereco 
(pride) ; so do all the arts and 
sciences, as : La zoologio (zoology), 
la kantarto (singing). The same 
remark applies to nouns indicating 
n whole species, as : La homaro 
(humanity), la bestaro (the animal 
kingdom). Generally speaking, the 
sense of a phrase determines the 
-ity for employing the definite 
article, but in all cases of doubt 
it should be omitted. 


A- will l,r se,-n by reference to the 

vocabularies, Esperanto words are 

built up from roots which are given 

n dffinite meaning, and to this 

particular attention must be paid. 

Some of the roots are by nature 

essentially substantival, others ad- 

jfctival or verbal, and in adding o 

to form the substantive, a to form 

the adjective, etc., care must be 

e that the word so con- 

irs a translatable mean- 

mi:. The force of this remark will 

i later when the terminations 

bMB fully dealt with. 

N'-uns are formed by adding o 
t . thu root, when singular and in 
tin- nominative case. 

Thus : Infan-o, dom-o, patr-o, 

To form the plural, add ; to the 
o, thus making the words tnfanoi, 
domoj, patroj, pordoj. 

When, however, tin- noun (siniru- 
lar or plural) is in the accusative 
case i.e.. when it is affected by 
some transitive verb of which it is 
the direct object a final X is added. 
K\. : I have a fine house (domon); 
He sold me two doors (pordojn). 

Jn the latter phrase, me is the 
indirect object of the verb, and in 
INperunto is governed by a pre- 
position. Here it may be advisable 
to explain why Esperanto uses an 
accusative case, and thus adopts 
an apparent complication which 
other languages have abandoned 
as unnecessary. In English, how- 
ever, we see it in the pronouns : 

I (nominative), me (objective), 
they (nominative), them (objective), 
and so on, but nouns in the nomina- 
tive and objective cases are alike. 
In a phrase auch as " Father likes 
mother more than you " we can- 
not tell whether father's liking for 
mother excels yours, or whether 
father prefers mother to you. There 
is, moreover, another use for the 
Esperanto accusative which will be 
dealt with in a subsequent lesson. 
This one simple principle, while 
allowing freedom to the order of 
words in a phrase, permits a single 
conjugation of the verb and does 
away with the necessity for dupli- 
cating pronouns. As a consequence, 
Esperanto is more supple than any 
natural language, and far more 
precise in the meanings it has 
to convey. Confusion, such as 
the above English phrase exhibits, 
can never arise in Esperanto, 
thanks to the adoption of one 
general rule, which, after all, is 
easily grasped. 

Nouns in Esperanto have no 
possessive case, this being rendered 
by de (of). Sometimes a possessive 
noun may be conveniently trans- 
lated by an adjective. 

Ex. : tiafa felo (sheep's skin). 


The whole of the moods, tenses, 
and participles of Esperanto verbs 
are formed by the addition of 
twelve terminal particles to the 
roots. Their conjugation is ab- 
solutely regular. 

The infinitive mood of the verb is 
formed without exception by add- 
ing t to the root. Ex. : Kuri, to 
run ; fermi, to shut. The sole 
auxiliary verb is esli (to be) which 
entirely displaces the use of equiva- 
lents for the English auxiliaries 
to have and to do. 

The present tense is formed by 
the addition of as to the root word, 


and this form is used for 1st, 2nd, 
and 3rd persons, both singular and 
plural. Ex. : Infants sing, are 
singing, do sing, infanoj kantas ; 
the father sells, is selling, does sell, 
la patro vendas. 


The words in each vocabulary 
should be thoroughly learned by 
uttering them aloud before pro- 
ceeding with the exercise. Those 
which are indeclinable are distin- 
guished by an asterisk. 
acet', buy hav', have 

admir', admire (possess) 
agl', eagle *kaj, and 

akcept', accept kol', neck 
bak', bake kuz', cousin 

baston', stick (male) 

(cane) labor, work (v.n.) 

best', animal man', hand 
bird', bird onkl', uncle 

bov', ox paper', paper 

brul', burn (v.n.) pip', pipe 
capel', hat (tobacco) 

cas', hunt pun', punish 

(pursue) saf, sheep 

dank', thank se<j', chair, seat 
dent', tooth skrib', write 
edz', married star', stand 

person (hus- (v.n.) 

band) tabl', table 

ferm', shut (furniture) 

fenestr', window vast', tail 
gazet', gazette vid', see (v.) 
vir', man 


Translate into Esperanto and 
repeat the words aloud when 
written : 

Uncle, sheep, the stick, the 
windows, to write, to thank, to 
punish, to shear, to see. The cousin 
works. The husband writes. The 
sheep stands. Uncle punishes. The 
sheep run. The husband buys some* 
gazettes. Father admires the eagle. 
The child clips the paper. The eagle 
is a bird. b Uncle has a chair, a 
table, and a stick. Sheep and oxen 
are animals *. The father shuts the 
windows. The husband has a hat 
and the sheep have tails. The eagle 
sees the children. The child thanks 
the father. The man bought a 
table and some* chairs. The man 
accepts the hat. 

a Not translated. 

& When the predicative com- 
plement is identical with the sub- 
ject of the sentence, it is in the 


ir.i i 


Man, the Trader. Utilising- the Earth's Raw Materials. Transport by Land 
and Sea. Power and Manufacture. Canals. Rivers. Railways. Towns and Ports 

Group 13 




Continued trom 
page 4498 


TTHE chief barriers to communication by sea 
are the Isthmus of Suez, between the 
Mediterranean and the Red Sea, necessitating the 
long voyage round the Cape ; and the isthmus 
of Central America between the Atlantic and 
the Pacific, entailing the rounding of Cape Horn. 
The first has been overcome by cutting the 
Suez Canal. The cutting either of the Panama 
or the Nicaragua Canal across the second is only 
a question of time. The stormy route round 
Denmark is avoided by the Kaiser Wilhelm 
Canal across the base of Jutland, and the 
Corinth Canal saves the long route round the 
Morea. A ship canal between the Forth and 
Clyde would give a short route from the Atlantic 
to the North Sea. 

The natural regions of tundra, temperate forest, 
steppe, desert, and tropical forest have already 
been described. These are not arranged in 
parallel zones, but according to variations of 
configuration and climate. Each zone has its 
special products, the general nature of which has 
already been indicated. 

Adapting the World to Man's Needs. 
Man differs from all other animals in his 
higher intelligence and his more complex wants. 
Only in the earliest stages of civilisation has 
he been contented to take the world as he 
found it, witKout attempting to adapt it to 
his needs. If we look at the lowest existing 
races, we see in them the germs of that in- 
genuity arid inventiveness which has made the 
highest races what they are. In the course of 
ages man has done much to change the world he 
originally found. He has modified vegetation 
and animal life, diverted rivers, drained lakes, 
tunnelled mountains, and cut canals from sea 
to sea. In all this he has had one main end in 
view, the desire to obtain a fuller command of 
the world and its resources. 

The first stage was when men lived exclusively 
on what they could find dead animals, fish left 
by the receding tide, and the fruit, leaves, and 
roots of plants. It is difficult to find examples 
of peoples at this stage so immediately do men 
begin to invent devices for improving their food 
supply. Mere collecting of this kind is still 
the chief resource of the people of Tierra del 
Fuego, of the South African Bushmen, and of 
many Australian tribes. 

Man, however, soon becomes a hunter, and 
makes weapons. Some of these the Australian 
boomerang, which returns to the thrower, or 
the Eskimo harpoon, for example are extremely 
ingenious. Civilised man has the same instinct, 
and invents weapons of diabolical precision 
and destructiveness with which to achieve his 

Hunters in the Old and New Worlds. 

Hunting is essentially a destructive occupation. 
It is continually reducing the food supply, and 
making existence more difficult. As small areas 
are soon cleared of game, hunting peoples require 
a very large range of country, and as they have 
to pursue their prey, they rarely have settled 
homes. The lowest hunting tribes build rude 
shelters where they may happen to want them. 
Similarly, the wealthy sportsman who goes far 
afield in search of sport carries elaborate tents 
and outfits. In both cases it is impossible 
always to return to the same spot at nightfall. 

When Europeans discovered North America 
the prairies fed great herds of bison, which were 
hunted by Indian tribes. The Australian tribes 
hunted the kangaroo and other animals. The 
pygmy tribes of the tropical forest are skilled 
hunters. The Eskimo hunts the seal and walrus, 
making the sea his hunting ground. Among more 
advanced peoples hunting is only one among 
many occupations. The trapping of fur animals 
is important in the temperate forests of the Old 
and New World, but it is for exchange, and no 
longer for food. The Eskimo are true hunters, but 
the crews of whaling and sealing vessels are in a 
transition stage. In the long run both classes die 
out. Generally, it is because the game is extermi- 
nated, for this is the penalty which Nature exacts 
from those who destroy without renewing. Often 
the end is accelerated, as in the American prairies, 
or in Australia, by the advent of a more advanced 
race with superior weapons, who deliberately 
exterminate the game to put the land to more 
profitable uses. Deprived of their hunting 
grounds, the aboriginal people quickly perish. 

Man as a Creative Agent. It is far 
otherwise when man begins to create. This he has 
done by domesticating and breeding animals, 
and by practising agriculture. The shepherd or 
the farmer is obviously a more useful type than 
the hunter, and one likelier to become rich. In 
the great grass lands of the world the pastoral 
peoples predominate. Agriculture of a more or 
less complex kind is practised wherever there is 
the least chance of success. Even the majority 
of hunting peoples have -some rudimentary 
knowledge of agriculture, which has become the 
mainstay of the highest races. Both agriculture 
and the breeding of animals become more and 
more scientific as a race increases in civilisation, 
ensuring a larger and more certain return for 
the labour expended. 

Man's control of Nature is thus continually 
increasing, though there are innumerable agencies 
ever liable to undo his work. Some of these 
are climatic ; others are of plant or animal 
origin. Untimely frost, rain, hail, or drought 



i niiii his crops and involve' the loss of 
Iiis' livestock. Lower forms of plant life 
may cause blight, mildew, and other plant 
dlMMeS, The animal toes range from micro- 
Mopie organisms to highly organised animals. 
I'll, former are the unseen causes of disease, 
malaria, yellow fever, ete. The ravages of the 
phylloxera insect have caused immense loss to 
nearly all vine-growing countries. The mosquito 
renders large districts uninhabitable by carrying 
the germ of malaria. The African tee-tee fly 
niinates cattle over the areas it haunts. 
The locust, the scourge of South Africa and other 
dry lands, annihilates every trace of vegetation 
in the line of advance. The rabbit has become 
an equally serious plague in Australia, where it 
does great damage both to crops and pasture. 
Many other examples will doubtless suggest 

Man's Utilisation of Raw Materials. 
A society which breeds animals or practises agri- 
culture has a constant supply of raw materials. 
The shepherd peoples have immense quantities 
of wool and hair, out of which they make felt 
tents, wool carpets, leather bottles, saddlery, and 
so forth. The agricultural peoples have bursting 
barns and laden fruit trees in autumn. Fruit 
must either be used immediately or wasted. 
Thus begin such industries as the making of 
wine. It is needless to follow out the process in 
detail, or to mention the manifold ways in which 
the raw materials of the entire world are utilised 
in a complex society like our own. 

Originally, all power was hand power, as it 
still is in many parts of the world. Labour 
may be so cheap that hand power is the most 
economical, as in China ; or a region may 
be so remote that labour-saving devices have 
not penetrated to it, as in the hand grinding of 
cereals in many African villages, or, in exceptional 
cases, such as lacemaking, the hand may give 
a finer result. Animal power probably developed 
next. A common example of it is the use of 
animals in ploughing. Horse power remains 
our unit of measure, though we now employ 
mechanical power wherever possible. 

Power Water, Steam, and Elec= 
tricity. Water power was the first mechanical 
power employed, and the command of it was 
of prime importance until the introduction 
of steam power in the eighteenth century. 
Steam power enormously increased output, 
and the impetus thus given to manufactures 
led the conveniently - situated coalfields of 
F.urope and North America to specialise in 
inaniita. turcs to the almost complete exclusion 
of agriculture. Steam power is now being 
rapidly displaced by electric power, which is 
I- -'"ring the command of water power to its 
>ld importance. The fact that it can be cheap'y 
itted by water power, transmitted for long 
'<-. and put to the most varied uses, gives 
it a superiority to every other form of power 
with \\ hii-h we are yet acquainted. Its increasing 
IIM- is one of the gn-at secrets of civilisation, 
.ml it.s in iv .sing application in all parts of the 
world will almost inevitably lead in the long run 
to redi>t'ilmtion of population. 


The geographical and human factors togethei 
produce great diversity of raw and manufac- 
tured products. Some system of exchange 
early begins, and increases in complexity a^ 
societies develop. 

Exchange and Transport. For ex- 
change two things are necessary a surplus 
of some commodity and the means of putting 
it on the market. Without the latter the 
former is useless. Transport will therefore be 
briefly considered before commodities. 

Transport is carried on either by land or water. 
Transport by land is carried on first by road, and 
much later by rail. In transport by road goods 
are carried by human porters or by beasts of 
draught or burden and recently by mechanical 
power. In transport by rail a locomotive is 
driven by mechanical power, or carriages are pro- 
pelled by electricity. By water, oars, sails, steam 
or other mechanical powers are employed, and 
on inland waterways haulage usually by horses. 

Women are the oldest beasts of burden in the 
world, and stiS do most of the carrying among 
savage - tribes. Slave labour is notoriously 
associated with the ivory trade, carrier and 
burden being sold together at the end of the 
journey. Slave labour is being eliminated by 
the progress of civilisation, but human carriage 
is by no means at an end. On a limited scale, 
it survives among ourselves. It may be the 
only form of transport possible under certain 
conditions, as, for example, in those parts of 
Africa ravaged by the tse-tse fly, whose bite is 
fatal to animals. In the tropical forests to make 
and keep roads open is almost impossible, and 
human carriage must frequently be resorted to. 

Human Carriers. Human transport is 
slow and dear. A slave must be bought as well 
as fed, and as he may die on the march, a specu- 
lative risk is incurred. A free portei requires 
wages in addition to food, which an animal does 
not. Limitation is also set by human strength. 
A man can carry only a given load. If part of 
this consists of his own food, the expense becomes 
still more prohibitive. Always dear, human 
transport is only practicable in fertile regions, and 
then only on a very limited scale. Hence, such 
a region as our Colony of Nigeria develops very 
slowly. There is abundance of valuable produce 
in the interior, but it cannot be got down to the 
coast. The time would be prohibitive, and the 
cost at the present rate would work out at about 
10 per ton per 100 miles. 

Transport by human carriers therefore greatly 
hampers the rapid growth of trade, and can 
only be applied to goods which are not perishable, 
and where bulk is small in proportion to the 
value. Such a trade is that in brick tea 
across the high mountains separating China 
from Tibet. In no country, however, is 
human labour so cheap as in the rice lands 
of China and India, and nowhere is human 
carriage so common. An economy is effected 
when man is made into a draught animal, for 
he can pull larger loads than he can lift. In 
China wheelbarrows are largely used. Sails are 
s-mv -times attached to them, but rather to 
increase the load than to lessen the labour. 

Animal Carriers. Animal transport is 
also a very ancient mode of transport, though still 
in daily use among ourselves. It is both quicker 
and cheaper than the preceding, especially if 
draught are substituted for pack animals. The 
reindeer in the tundra of the Old World, the horse 
in temperate Europe, the mule in southern Europe, 
the ox in South Africa, the camel in the hotter, 
drier regions, are among the draught and pack 
animals of the world. The yak crosses the high 
passes of Tibet, and the llama those of the Andes. 
There are, however, the same limitations as in 
the case of human labour. Expense is enor- 
mously increased if part of the animal's load 
consists of its own food. Hence the value of the 
camel where it can be used. This animal has 
fat-storing cells in its humps and water -storing 
cells in the coats of its stomach. Cases are 
recorded of camels remaining without water for 
two months. The average load is from 6 cwt. 
to 8 cwt. The cost of camel transport in Man- 
churia has recently been given at from l^d. to 2d. 
per ton per mile, while transport by mule or 
pony cart comes out rather cheaper. 

Before the introduction of railways, nearly all 
the transport of the world was done by animals. 
Great trade routes crossed the Old World, many 
of which are now followed by railways. At 
the present time animal transport is chiefly 
used to get goods to the nearest railway or 
waterway. It may cost the American farmer 
as much to haul his grain to the railway as will 
be paid for the rest of its transport to Europe. 
Hence, farming does not pay beyond a certain 
distance from a railway. 

Transport by Rail. Transport by rail 
is quick, reliable, and particularly suitable for 
perishable commodities. Though dearer a^ a 
rule than water carriage, it is far cheaper 
than either of the preceding. 

Three principal elements enter into the question 
of cost (1) The initial cost of constructing the 
track ; (2) the cost of the locomotive and other 
rolling stock ; and (3) the working expenses. 
The examination of these in detail does not fall 
under the scope of geography. It may be 
pointed out, however, that the question of 
gradient and distance are of prime importance 
in determining working expenses. It requires 
more power to lift a weight up an incline than 
to draw it on the level. Hence, other things 
being equal, the route with the easiest gradient 
will be chosen. An example of this is seen in 
the case of the recently-finished Simplon 

It was decided to pierce a long tunnel at a 
lower elevation rather than a much shorter 
tunnel at a higher elevation. The extra cost 
involved in hauling every ton to the higher 
level would in the end have more than counter- 
balanced the initial economy in the cost of the 
tunnel. Where a steep gradient is unavoidable, 
the rate charged is often prohibitively high. 
The cost of ascending Vesuvius by rail is 1 
for a journey of a few miles. Here, no doubt, 
the element of monopoly comes in, but the 
working expenses on such a line are necessarily 
exceptionally high. 


The shortening of the distance to be traversed 
is almost as important as the easing of gradient. 
A longer route means an increased consumption 
of fuel on every journey, as well as loss 
of time. Hence, to reduce distance is to 
reduce cost. Economy of time is rapidly 
becoming the only real economy, and from this 
point of view such costly engineering works as 
tunnels through the Alps and the Andes pay 
in the end. Tunnels are even carried below 
estuaries and narrow arms of the sea to avoid 
the time and expense of unloading and reloading. 

Another element in reducing cost is the dis- 
tance hauled, long hauls costing relatively less 
than short ones. The cost of loading and un- 
loading is the same in both cases, so that this is 
another example of economy everywhere effected 
under modern conditions by economy of time. 

Transport by Land and Water. The 
total mileage of the world's railways is over 
500,000 miles, by far the greater part being 
in Europe and North America. A through line, 
though not on a uniform gauge, crosses Europe 
and Asia from the Atlantic to the Pacific. 
Several lines cross North America, and in South 
America a transcontinental line is in process of 
completion. A Cape to Cairo railway is projected. 

Transport, like manufacture, is passing into 
the electric stage. Both trams and railways 
are now driven by electricity. 

Transport is carried on by river, canal, lake, and 
sea. The boat or ship replaces the animal or the 
locomotive. It is the cheapest form of carriage 
(1) Because, except in the case of canals, no roads 
have to be made and kept in repair ; (2) because 
a smaller power will move a given tonnage 
through the water than would suffice on the 
most perfectly -graded railway ; and (3) because 
it is less easy to create a monopoly, and com- ; 
petition tends to reduce rates. Very heavy and 
bulky goods can often be carried more cheaply 
by- water than by land when both methods are 
available. In the case of ocean commerce, there 
is, of course, no alternative to water carriage, 
though there may be a choice between the use of 
wind power and steam or electric power. 

The Commercial Value of Rivers. 
Rivers are natural roads between the sea and 
the interior of a country. Their upper courses 
are often too swift and steep for navigation, 
but in the lowlands they are generally navigable. 
Their commercial importance increases as a 
country develops. It would be impossible to 
overestimate the value of the Rhine to Germany, 
the Danube to Austria, the St. Lawrence to 
Canada, or the Yangtse to China. 

Various causes lessen the value of a river as a 
means of transport. Its current may be too 
swift, as in the Hwang-ho. It may be liable to 
floods, as the Loire. It may be too shallow, as 
the Elbe, which is not navigable in its upper 
course in dry summers. Its bed may be broken 
by falls or rapids, as at the Iron Gates of the 
Danube, now made navigable by blasting away 
some obstructions, and making a canal to avoid 
others. All the African rivers suffer in this 
respect. Africa is a high plateau, falling by 
steep terraces to the sea. Over these the rivers 



fall to tin' coastal plains, forming falls. They are 
able above and below these, but they are 
not natural routes from the sea to the interior. 

taothct drawback is the tendency of rivers 
to form bars at their mouths. This is well seen 
in the MM of the Rhone. It has a large delta, 
.md bars are formed at the mouth of all 
distributaries. Airues Mortes, once a flourishing 
p,,rt. is now inland, and the port of the Rhone 
valley, Marseilles, is cast of the delta. 

Thirdly, a river is of little us for transport 
if the approaches to it arc not good. This is 
illustrated by the Danube. The Rumanian 
bank is lo\v 'and marshy, while the Bulgarian 
I. a nk is high and above flood level. Hence, 
Rumania makes much less use of the Danube 
for transport than does Bulgaria. 

Again, it is a disadvantage if a river be ice- 
bound in winter, as transport must cease. 
When the St. Lawrence is frozen much trade is 
dixrrted from Canadian to American ports. of the rivers of Eastern Europe, including 
the Danube, are icebound in winter. Siberia 
is handicapped in the same way, and the Amur, 
the other great river of Asiatic Russia, is closed 
to navigation from November to April. 

Transporting Timber. A very primitive 
mode of rirer transport may still be seen on 
the Rhine, and on most of the rivers of Europe 
which flow from forested regions. The timber 
is made up into great rafts, which are towed 
or floated down stream. This mode of trans- 
porting timber is practised all over the world 
in Canada, where the Ottawa is the busiest 
timber river ; in Brazil, where mahogany is 
floated down stream ; on the rivers of Burma, 
which cany teak ; on the Amur, where timber 
is floated down from the forests of Manchuria ; 
and on the Yangtse, from the dense forests 
between China and Burma. On the last named 
river logs are floated down in January, and take 
about six months to travel 600 miles. 

Few goods, however, would stand such rough 
handling, and the usual method of transport is 
by boats, which assume innumerable forms in 
different parts of the world. In the chief 
commercial countries river transport is carried 
on by steamers of suitable draught. The 
estuaries of many rivers admit ocean-going 
steamers far into the interior. The Seine is 
navigable for ocean liners to Rouen, and to 
coasting steamers even to Paris, the Rhine to 
( 'oln, and to coasting steamers to Mannheim. 
Compare this with the Rhone, which is inaccessible 
to ocean-going vessels. 

Lakes. Lakes are of all sizes, the largest 
liny tin- dimensions of inland seas. When 
\ si/.- they are generally utilised for trans- 
port, which may be chiefly passenger traffic, as 
<>M Loch Lomond, or may include freight. 
Whether freight can be profitably carried depends 
(Hi various considerations, one of which is 
tran hipment. Where lakes do not communi- 
cate with the sea the traflic i> necessarily local. 
In a country \\here road- are few the naviga- 
ni Iftkei may lie .,f ,r n . ilt importance. 
<'.,n>c(|uently we find steamers plying on Lakes 
and Tanganyika in the heart of Africa. 


Where lakes are connected with the sea by a 
navigable river, the advantage for transport 
is obviously greater. No better example 
can be found than the Great Lakes of the 
St. Lawrence. 

The Commercial Use of Canals. 
Canals are artificial waterways. They include 
inland canals for river traffic and ship canals 
for ocean traffic. 

Inland canals are made to improve existing 
rivers, to connect navigable rivers with each 
other, or to avoid obstructions. The rivers of 
England and the Continent have been exten- 
sively canalised, and connected with each 
other by canals. Sometimes the canalisation 
and deepening of a river bed calls a new port into 
existence. The deepening of the Clyde and the 
rise of Glasgow is a case in point. At the end 
of the eighteenth century there were only 
15 inches of water at Glasgow at high tide. To- 
day it is a port for the largest liners afloat. 
Similarly Montreal has been artificially made 
into an ocean port. 

Canals are frequently made to avoid obstruc- 
tions to navigation. The navigation of the 
St. Lawrence above Montreal is obstructed by 
the Lachine Rapids, three miles long, now 
avoided by the Lachine Canal, from Montreal 
to Lachine. This is nine miles long, and rises 
45 ft. by means of five locks. There are alto- 
gether 42 miles of canals between Montreal and 
Lake Ontario. Other canals avoid the ob- 
struction between lake and lake. The Welland 
Canal, between Lakes Erie and Ontario, avoids 
the Niagara Falls. 

Canals versus Railways. At the pre- 
sent time the canal question is exciting much 
interest. In this country the canals have 
suffered from railway competition. Very primi- 
tive methods of canal transport are used, 
chiefly barges towed by horse power, and so 
small that goods cannot be handled in bulk, a 
factor in reducing expenses. The rate is very 
slow, and can be profitably applied as a rule only 
to bulky goods not of a perishable kind, such as 
coal, or building stone. In view of the often 
repeated axiom that time saved is money saved, 
cana,l transport must be accelerated if it is to pay. 
A possible change of method is illustrated by 
a short canal just opened in Prussia. 

The Teltow Canal, which is about 24 miles long, 
passes through the forests and lakes to the south 
and south-west of Berlin, and connects the 
upper Spree with the Havel near Potsdam. 
It shortens the distance for barges passing 
from east to west by the canals connecting 
the Elbe and Oder, and relieves the congestion 
of the river traffic through Berlin. The special 
feature of this canal, which is all but unique 
in Europe, is the mode of traction. Electric 
locomotives, supplied with power from over- 
head wires, run along the banks, and tow the 
boats in either direction. Each can tow 1,500 
tons at the rate of three miles an hour. [See 4, 
page 2275.] The rates at present charged for 
towing are high, one penny per ton per kilo- 
metre (jjth mile). The result of this new ex- 
periment in canal transport remains to be seen. 

Canals have declined owing to the competition 
of railways. For this geographical causes are 
to some extent responsible. A region suited 
for the construction of a canal is also well 
adapted for the construction of a line of easy 
gradient, which is inexpensive both in con- 
struction and working. Before the develop- 
ment of railways many hundreds of miles of 
canals were made along the valleys of eastern 
Pennsylvania to carry coal down to the markets. 
None of them are now important, for the whole 
route being on the down grade, the railways can 
carry it very cheaply, as well as more quickly, 
and in greater bulk. 

Ship canals are made either to shorten routes, 
as in the Suez Canal, or to bring inland towns 
into direct communication with the sea. The 
Manchester Ship Canal was constructed at a 
cost of 15,000,000 to make Manchester a port 
and to avoid transhipment at Liverpool. 

Transport by Sea. Transport by sea is 
of unknown antiquity. At the dawn of history 
we find the Phoanicians on the Syrian coast 
possessed of a great navy, and trading with 
all parts of the known world. Their ships were 
propelled by rowers, and sails were used only 
as an auxiliary means of power. Up to the 
beginning of the nineteenth century the world's 
ocean commerce was carried on entirely by sail- 
ing vessels. The first steamer crossed the Atlantic 
hi 1819, and ever since there has been a steady 
increase in the ratio of steam to sailing vessels. 

Steam transport is initially costly. In 
addition to the cost of the vessel, which is much 
more than a sailing vessel, there is the fact that 
machinery wears out rapidly or becomes out of 
date, so that the life of a steamer is shorter 
than that of a sailing vessel. Further, there is 
the permanent charge for fuel. The fastest 
liners consume nearly 400 tons of coal a day. 
This expense has not to be met by sailing 
vessels. To counterbalance the heavier work- 
ing expenses it must be remembered that a 
steamer can* carry far more per annum, which 
makes for economy. As in the case of locomo- 
tives, improvements in the construction of 
engines have resulted in a great economy of 
fuel, thus lowering rates. In some cases these 
are only half what they were 25 years ago. 

Where Steamers Beat Sailing Vessels. 
In addition to their greater carrying power, 
steamships possess another great advantage 
over sailing vessels. The latter are dependent 
on winds, and must often shape a longer course 
to get a favourable wind. The steamer is 
practically independent of wind, and can 
choose the shortest route. Nowhere is this 
better illustrated than in the case of ships 
on their way from the Indian Ocean to the 
Atlantic. The rates for towing in the Suez 
Canal are so high that most sailing vessels take 
the route round the Cape, though it is 3,000 
miles longer. A steamer, of course, does not 
require towage. The acceleration in delivery 
makes steam carriage the most economical for 
all perishable commodities. 

The introduction of steam transport has 
caused a certain oscillation in the situation of 


ports. Originally, when all vessels were sailing 
craft of limited size, the ports tended to be at 
the head of tidal navigation. As steam came 
into use and vessels increased in size they were 
no longer always able to reach the inland port, 
and ports nearer the mouth of the river rose in 
importance. The advantage of penetrating as 
far as possible into th^ interior was, however, 
ot such great commercial importance that the 
more important rivers of Europe were deepened 
and dredged to make them accessible to ocean- 
going steamers for the longest possible distance. 
Thus commerce flowed back again to the port 
nearest to the interior, which rose at the expense 
of its former rival at the mouth of the river. 

The Beginning of Towns. The earliest 
settlements of man were determined by ease of 
access to certain commodities, without which life 
is impossible. The two most fundamental are 
water and food. Next to these comes the pre- 
sence of some material for making weapons. 
In our own country primitive man made his 
weapons of flint, and traces of early settlement 
are found all over the chalk counties of Britain. 
A second important consideration was ease 
of defence. This led to the forming of settlements 
on hills (Edinburgh), or on islands in a river 
(Paris), or on firm ground surrounded by marshes 
(Ely). So long as each settlement was small 
and relatively self-sufficient, these two con- 
siderations were probably all important. Some 
simple form of exchange early developed, and 
along with it there was an irresistible tendency 
for settlements to grow up at certain points of 
vantage. Broadly speaking, these were con- 
cerned with the control of routes. A good 
example is the growth of a village at a point where 
a river could be forded (Oxford), or bridged 
(Cambridge). The nucleus of what has become 
the greatest city in the world was the ford of 
the Thames at* Westminster, and the bridge 
across the river a mile or so below it. Another 
obviously good site is the confluence of two 
rivers. Duisberg, Coblenz, and Mainz are all 
confluence towns on the Rhine. At Nizhni 
Novgorod, at the junction of the Volga and the 
Oka, an annual fair is held, at which the business 
of two continents is transacted. Where a river 
changes its direction an important town frequently 
grows up, owing to the convergence and diver- 
gence of routes in different directions. Such a 
town is Basel, where the Rhine turns north across 
the Upper Rhine Plain. 

The command of land routes is equally im- 
portant. London had not merely its ford and 
bridge, but it was at the end of the only prac- 
ticable routes across the otherwise impassable 
marshes. Towns naturally arise at the mouths 
of valleys (Heidelberg), especially when these lead 
to important passes (Turin, Milan, Verona). 
Towns also sgrow up at the mouth of gaps or 
depressions across mountain ranges (Salisbury, 
Winchester). Basel is at the end of the impor- 
tant route by the Burgundian Gate, so that 
two distinct causes have promoted its growth. 

The Beginning of Ports. Another series 
of towns is associated with the change from one 
form of transport to another. The most obvious 



illustration is the ordinary seaport, where land 
and water root meet. A large and important 
t..wn almost inevitably grows up at the head 
..f nav iuation for large vessels, where freight must 
he transhipped from or to smaller steamers, 
or to the rail. This explains the rapid growth 
..t Mannheim. There will also, for a similar 
:| . I,,. ; , ,-,,,1-idei able port at the head of tidal 

1 1 ion, the limit for any smaller vessels, 
th- river l>e interrupted by rapids, transhipment 
may l>e ne.-rs-arv. a nd " consequently a town 
will grow u]) (St.' Paul in Minnesota, Detroit, 
Montreal). Kven under more primitive condi- 
tions the same law holds good. Ta-chien-lu, the 
ent re of the tea trade between China and Tibet, 
owes much of its importance to the fact that 
here the tea is transferred to yaks, the beasts 
of burden on the high passes of Central Asia. 

The Position of Manufacturing 
Towns. The position of manufacturing 
towns is due to a different set of conditions. 
Anciently they tended to grow up where 
raw material and control of water power were 
both available, as in the woollen towns of 
the Tweed valley, Yorkshire, the Cotswold, 
the Ardennes and Saxony. The existence of 
some other favourable circumstances might be 
the determining cause. Thus many of the 
Flemish rivers have special bleaching properties, 
and towns engaged in the linen manufacture 
grew up along the Lys and other rivers. The 
most striking case is the rise of manufacturing 
towns on the coalfields of Britain, Europe, and 
the United States after the discovery of steam 
power. The cotton towns of Lancashire possess 
three advantages of position. Two of them are 
obvious proximity to coal and to the cotton- 
shipping ports of the United States. The third 
is climatic. The humid atmosphere enables 
a fine thread to be spun, and gives a better result 
than the artificial dampening of the air in 
drier districts. 

Where several of these advantages are present 
the prosperity of a town is more likely to be 
permanent than where there is only a single one. 
forbids an analvsis of the advantages of 
posit ion possessed by the chief cities of the world, 
but in almost every case it would show that 
these are very numerous. 

The Advantages of Seaports. Unless 
the hinder-land Ix) poor, the balance of advantage 
lies with seaports. A large population finds em- 
ployment in handling the merchandise brought in 
and out. Every grade of labour is represented, 
from the merely manual tasks of loading and 
unloading, through the various agencies of dis- 
M-iluition to the highest forms of administra- 
tive ability, \\hieh shape tin- destiny of whole 
communities by regulating the amount of capital 
engaged and the mode of its employment. As 
raw material and coal can be cheaply obtained 

a, manufactures tend to develop, cans inn 

a further in.-rease of wealth and population. 

This again reacts on the agencies engaged in 

oollecting raw material and distributing the 

d product. Thus the seaport city tends 

.uii-.- an ever inen-axing momentum. New 


lines of railway are built to it, new lines of 
steamers make it a port of call, steadily increasing 
the prosperity which originally attracted them. 

One more aspect of the interesting question 
of position may be noted. The greatest towns 
may have their vicissitudes, and unforeseen 
causes may for a time neutralise their indis- 
putable advantages of position. A famous case 
is that of Genoa and Venice, which, in the early 
Middle Ages, were on the great highway between 
Asia and Northern Europe. The Turkish con- 
quests in the fifteenth century interrupted this 
trade, and struck a deadly blow at their pros- 
perity. The discovery of the Cape route trans- 
ferred the advantage of position to the Atlantic 
ports, and Lisbon, Antwerp, Rotterdam, and the 
British ports successively secured the greater 
part of the world's trade. The cutting of 
the Suez Canal again made the Mediterranean 
the highway, and led to the rapid growth of 
Marseilles, Genoa, and in a lesser degree of Venice. 
There are those who maintain that its opening 
has been prejudicial to the interests of British 
ports, but this cannot be taken yet as proved. 

The Drawing of Maps/ The illustra- 
tion on page 4514 shows three different maps of 
the world on which the British Empire is indi- 
cated by shading. 

1. TheMercator projection is that most fami- 
liar. It has this advantage, that a straight line 
drawn between any two places on it represents 
the correct direction between them. It has 
many disadvantages. The size of countries is 
greatly distorted. Compare Australia, nearly 
3,000,000 square miles, with Greenland, some 
700,000 square miles. 

2. To get rid of this distortion the oval- 
shaped map above it has been drawn. Australia 
and Greenland are shown in proper proportions. 
On it we may compare the size of different parts 
of the British Empire. Notice that the distance 
between the meridians at the equator is equal. 
The meridians of 90 W. and 90 E. of Greenwich 
form the circumference of a circle*. One dia- 
meter of this represents the equator ; the 
diameter at right angles, the meridian of Green- 
wich. The parallels are now drawn so that 
the area between two parallels is proportional 
in the scale of the map to the area between 
these two parallels on the earth. The equator and 
each parallel is divided into eighteen equal parts, 
nine west and nine east of the meridian of 
Greenwich, each representing 10 and numbered 
to 90 W., and to 90 E. Then the equator 
and each parallel is prolonged east and west 
until the distance beyond the circle is equal to 
that from the meridian of to the circumference. 
Each part beyond the circle is divided into 
nine equal parts, numbered from 90 to 180 W., 
and from 90 to 180 E. The curves are now 
drawn through all points with the same numbers, 
and the network is complete. This equal-area, 
or equivalent projection, is called Mollweide's, 
and was invented in 1805. 

3. The western and eastern hemispheres are 
not equal area projections, but the distortions are 
not nearly so great as in the Mercator projection. 


Envelopes of Bodies. Plane Figures. Non-plane Figures. Pro- 
jections. Pyramids Right Figures. Pyramids Oblique Figures 

Group 8 


i II\[( AT. T)RAWIN( 

continued from 
page 44-28 


""THIS course does not deal with problems in 
practical geometry, which are treated earlier. 
It only embraces the actual development of the 
envelopes of solid bodies. Although the problems 
involved in this subject are those of marking out 
with compasses, rules, and scales, more than this 
is required in order to translate these into practice. 
Joints of many forms occur continually, and 
suitable allowances have to be made for these 
beyond the edges obtained by the geometrical 
outlines. Then, again, allowances have to be 
made for some other matters which do not admit 
of exact calculation, and which have -not been 
and cannot be formulated, but which can only 
come by experience in the shops. These include 
the influences of bending, flanging, raising, and 
allied operations in which sheet-metal undergoes 
coercion, so that its fibres move one over the other 
some being compressed, others extended. In 
very thin sheets the influences of these may be 
nearly neglected, but as sheets increase in thick- 
ness, as in the plates of the boilermaker, the 
results sometimes become puzzling to the work- 
man. For actual metal work is not like making 
a drawing that you may rub out and redraw. An 
error means a waste of valuable material, as 
well as of time. 

Envelopes of Bodies. We will preface 
this article with remarks on the subject men- 
tioned above as being a fundamental one 
namely, the envelopes of solid bodies. That 
is the same thing as the envelopes of hollow 
bodies, with which all sheet-metal workers are 
concerned. In other words, solids are enclosed 
by envelopes, the forms of which can be produced 
on plane sheets and wrapped around the solids, 
or enclose hollow spaces identical in form and 
dimensions with the solids. 
. We can here lay down two leading statements : 

(1) The shapes of the envelopes of bodies or 
of geometrical solids can in all cases be arrived 
at by the application of geometrical problems, 
combined with the principles of projection ; 

(2) all these envelopes, of whatever form, can 
be obtained by the preparation and union of 
sheet-metal or alloy originally in plane forms, 
as sheet tin, copper, brass, zinc, iron, and steel, 
as used by tin and coppersmiths, zinc workers, 
and boilermakers. This is obvious in the case 
of cubical bodies, but the difficulties, real or 
apparent, exist when bodies are of conical, 
spherical, or flaring outlines, and when combina- 
tions of these occur, and junctions of various 
figures with each other. Frequently, when work 
such as hammering has to be done on sheets to 
cause them to assume other than plane surfaces, 
the number of joints has to be increased in 
thick plates more than is nece'ssary in thinner 

Joints. Next, with regard to the allowances 
for joints. The general rule is, first, to have as 
few joints as possible ; next, to adopt the 
simplest joint that is consistent with efficiency. 
Within this range we have many kinds, from 
the simple union by soft solder to the treble- 
riveted, double-butted joints of the largest 
steam boilers. 

The question of allowance for joints is not 
usually difficult, but it must not be overlooked. 
Generally, it involves a simple addition to the 
developed pattern of so much for overlap, or for 
wiring in some cases. In others, something 
more has to be considered, as when flanges have 
to be turned with more or less of radius, and 
when flanging has to be done in two directions 
on the same plate, as in the firebox sheets of loco- 
motive boilers. Sometimes no allowance is made, 
as in thinned corners for boiler plates, or but 
little, as in the thinned edges of cramped joints. 
In butt joints, again, no extra is required. So 
that all through the work the craftsman who 
marks out must also keep in mind the methods 
of jointing as well as the allowances for puckering 
and drawing in concave objects. 

Machine versus Hand Work. At the 
present time much of the work of the tinsmith 
and coppersmith has been appropriated by 
machinery, in which articles of steel are stamped 
at one operation or more, instead of being 
tediously marked out and shaped by hand 
hammering. But for all, except comparatively 
simple articles, the service of the worker in 
sheet-metals are still in request, and to all such a 
knowledge of drawing lies at the basis of the 

To those who are not familiar with this work 
it must sometimes be a matter for surprise how 
sheet-metal work is produced in such an infinity 
of forms. Neither is it all simple to the crafts- 
man. But when difficulties arise, they are 
seldom those due to marking out the geometrical 
patterns, but they generally lie in the making of 
suitable allowances for raising by hammering 
processes. Generally, patterns, however elab- 
orate in appearance, are composed of simple 
elementary forms in repetition, or in combina- 
tion. It is, therefore, essential to grasp the 
elementavy problems before attempting those 
examples which include combinations of the 

Plane Figures. Considering in brief the 
forms of the envelopes of solid bodies, we see 
that large numbers of them have plane faces. 
These give us the first object lesson in our course. 

Take any polygonal solid, and you see that 
by separating each side the figure really develops 
itself. As many sides as the figure possesses, so 
many individual planes will there be. Any 



square [1] or oblong body would have six planes 
.1 its envelope ; top, bottom, and four sides. 
This may be made by cutting from a single sheet, 
as in 2. then turning up the four sides, and turn- 
ing over the top; or each piece may be cut 
i itely. A hexagonal body [3] would have 
plant's [4]; top and bottom, octagonal in 
plan, and six sides, each of rectangular outline. 
Tiiis (.in be developed either as in 4, or as 
in 5. tin- relations of each of which to the body 
are obvious. The can with tapering sides, a 
prismoidal figure [6] is enveloped as in 7. The 
complete envelope [8] of an octagonal pyramid 
ia a simple form. The envelopes of the sides have 
their lengths, A, equal to the slant height of the 
pyramid, and the widths, B, at the base are equal 
to the length of a side of the base. In obtaining 
the shapes of the envelopes in 1 to 8, the im- 
portant point to be sure of is the dimensions 
of length and width, and correct angles right 
and octagonal, and so forth. It is just a case of 
plain measurement with rule or compass. 

The development of a truncated pyramid is 
shown in 9. The pyramid is first completed as 
indicated by the dotted lines, and then a length is 
marked off equal in length to the slant height 
required. The top and bottom octagonal sheets 
are exactly the same as those of a truncated 
pyramid in plan view. The construction in 9 
would completely envelop the body. 

In working out these, every face is a plane 
face, and the outlines are those of the faces 
looked at in a direction perpendicular thereto. 

Slant Height. This manner of looking at 
a figure is of cardinal importance, as we shall 
see subsequently. It will occur continually in 
speaking of the slant height of an object that is, 
the dimension taken along the plane of its face, 
instead of along the axis of the body. The two 
only coincide in figures having their sides parallel, 
as in rectangular and cylindrical bodies, and not 
at all in pyramidal and conical figures and those 
derived therefrom. 

In working out many developments it is 
essential to bear in mind this difference in 
dimensions in the perpendicular and in the slant, 
or sloping portions of figures of which 6, 7, 8, 
9, 10, and 11 are typical. Taking a pyramid for 
example, it hardly needs demonstration to show 
that the perpendicular height is different from 
the slant height. The perpendicular height is 
shorter, the slant height of the edge is longer, 
and the slant height of the faces is different from 
that of the edges. In obtaining the development 
of the envelopes of such figures, the perpendicular 
height has no permanent place. It is only used 
as an element in the work of development, but 
both of the slant heights are required for the 
euttmg of the actual sheet of metal. The rela- 
.f these will differ considerably with the 
proportions of figures. 

Non-plane Figures. Looking now at 

(inures that are not plane, we 

". that bending has to be done. For a cone [10], 

the envelope! are a sector of a circle, and a 

(iieular base. For a conic frustum [11] they 

BgOMftl of a in le, and two circles for 


base and top respectively. For a cylinder [12] 
the envelope is one rectangular sheet bent to 
form the cylindrical body, and two plane ends, 
which are circles. 

The envelope of a globe is a complete sphere 
also. But such bodies are formed by taking two 
circular discs and beating or pressing them to 
hemispherical shapes, or by preparing small 
pieces called gores, and bending and uniting them. 

Methods of Bending and Hollowing. 
The question of bending and hollowing affects 
different trades in different ways. While a 
coppersmith easily hammers a sheet into a 
spherical form, the engineer has to bring power- 
ful hydraulic machinery to do such work on steel 
plates. In the absence of such aids he increases 
the number of joints, and so lessens the amount 
of dishing required on a single sheet. 

It might seem as though it would be easy to 
hollow a sheet of metal to any extent if the work 
be done at a high temperature. But such is 
not the case. In all work where metal or alloy 
is subjected to severe treatment, with much 
extension of its fibres, frequent annealings are 
necessary. To this rule there is no exception, 
either in thin sheets or in thick plates. Extreme 
examples are cartridge cases used for ammunition. 
These are drawn from solid sheets, but the work 
is spread over several stages with alternate 
annealings. It is in such work, of which this is 
an extreme though common illustration, that 
the shape and dimensions of the sheet cannot be 
obtained correctly by simple draughtsmanship, 
but previous experience of similar work is 

Projections. The drawing of the worker 
in sheets and plates is essentially that of pro- 
jection, superadded to plane geometry. It is so, 
too, in engineers' drawing in general, but with 
this difference the projections of the engineer 
are largely those of plans, elevations, and sections 
in directions perpendicular to each other. But 
those of the worker in sheets as often take place 
in planes perpendicular to sections taken at 
various angles with main axes. And what 
appears to the beginner to complicate matters 
is that many of the patterns of the tinman and 
coppersmith, zinc worker, and engineers' plater, 
are not symmetrical, or right figures, but are 
unsymmetrical, oblique, or slant figures, and 
these again have their projections of sections 
taken at various angles. And then, further, many 
objects of manufacture combine right with oblique 
figures, and portions of the envelopes of different 
groups of solids. If the separate sheets be not 
marked correctly they will neither joint correctly 
as separate pieces nor connect up to each other. 

Once more, many cases arise in which, though 
it is known that an edge must be an arc of a circle, 
and though one could see how to strike it with 
compass or trammel, yet the radius is far too 
large to permit of this method. Then other 
devices are available, those of intersecting lines 
or of triangulation, by which accurate curves 
can be obtained step by step by constructive 
methods. And once the leading principles of 
development and projection are grasped, new 
problems are readily solved by a little thought. 


1. Cubical body 2. Envelope of same 3. Hexagonal body 4. Envelope of same 5. Alternative envelope 6. Can 
with tapering sides 7. Envelope of same 8. Envelope of octagonal pyramid 9. Envelope of truncated octagonal 
pyramid 10. Envelope of right cone 11. Envelope of conic frustum 12. Envelope of cylinder 13. Cylinder projected 
in end view and diagonal section 14. Square figure projected 15. Projection of oblique' conic frustum 16. Projection 
of oblique cone 17. Projection of conic frustum 18. Projections of hexagonal prism 19. Elliptical section of cone 
20. Projection of truncated octagonal pyramid 21. Projection of diagonal section of pyramid 22, 23. Effect of 

differences in slant 24. Oblique pyramid 25. Octagonal tray 26. Pattern for same 27. Square oblique pyramid 
28. Development of same 29. Development of oblique truncated pyramid 30. Oblique truncated pyramid 



Examples of Projection. Some ele- 
m.-ntury illustrations of the principles of pro- 
i hey apply to the envelopes of bodies, 
will I.,- , t value before beginning practical pro- 
blems. They are simpler in some respects than 
t!,,,,,- which deal with projection as a whole, in 
which thicknesses are constantly occurring, 
because sheet -metal may be considered from this 
point of view to have no thickness, and therefore 
one surface an exterior one only has to be 


The spheiv is the only object which appears the 
same from all points of view and in all sections. 
Tin- same remark applies to the cube looked at 
perpendicularly to either face. In all other 
figures the projections are different. 

A cylinder [13] has two external develop- 
ments, that of the body [12] and that of the 
ends, circles. But if cut obliquely [13] its 
l.-velopment is an ellipse. A square figure [14] 
sho\vs plane faces if viewed perpendicularly to 
its sides, but angular faces if projected from 
the angles. An oblique conic frustum [15] has 
two projections, that of its circular base, and that 
of a smaller circle corresponding with the plane 
of truncation, besides the foreshortened plan 
view. An oblique cone [16] projected has the 
appearance shown ; here, as in 15, we see at a 
glance that the projected plans, being fore- 
shortened, do not give actual lengths of the 
mvelopes, which must be obtained on slant 
heights. A conic frustum [17] projected gives 
two concentric circles corresponding with base 
and top, and the slant in plan view. A hexagonal 
prism [18] has its true form projected parallel 
with the axis, but the equal-sided proportions 
do not appear if a projection be made perpen- 
dicular to a diagonal section. A cone has the 
conical form in elevation, the circle in plan, and 
the ellipse if cut diagonally across [19], besides the 
parabola and hyperbola if cut in other directions. 
The truncated octagonal pyramid [20] gives 
octagonal figures in plan, as shown, and tapering 
sides. The development of this was shown in 9. 
An octagonal pyramid cut in oblique section [21] 
develops an irregular octagon. 

The point to be noted in these figures is the 
alteration in form which the projections at 
different planes indicate. With every increase 
in angle there results an elongation of form, and 
when joints have to be made to fit at certain 
angles the importance of exact methods of 
development on the projected planes is obvious. 

Simple Examples. We will now begin 

work on pome of the simpler examples that 

arise. However varied are the shapes in which 

metal and plated work occur, they are 

ible to a few elementary forms and com- 

1 .iiiat ions of the same. These are parallelepipeds, 

prtsms, pyramids, cylinders, cones, polygons, and 

spheres. The prisms, pyramids, cylinders and 

cones may be right or oblique figures. 

PyramidsRight Figures. W T e may 

Mimarily of parallelopipeds and prisms 

DM tin- dimensions as well as the forms of 

tli.-ir i-nvrlopes are obvious [1 to 5]. Right 

; IK lil forms are also simple, but some 

int ions are necessary here. A pyramid 


may be defined as a solid bounded by three or 
more triangles which meet at a point, and by 
the base, which is of polygonal form, having any 
number of sides. The height of the triangles 
must be taken on the slant lines, and a com- 
parison of the two figures [22 and 23] shows 
how essential is the amount of slant in deter- 
mining the .forms of the triangular envelopes. 
If the pyramids be cut across the planes aa, 
we* have truncated figures, and then the dimen- 
sions are required in the plane of truncation, 
and these are given by the projections in plan, 
In these figures each triangle, or wedge-shaped 
piece around the pyramids is like the rest, 
because the apex is situated perpendicularly 
over the centre of the base. But if located 
elsewhere, the pyramid is an oblique one [24], 
and the triangles are of unequal lengths, ex- 
cepting those that correspond on opposite 
sides of the figure taken in the plane of the 
paper. The methods of marking out, therefore, 
differ in the case of right, and oblique pyramids, 
and, of course, of complete, and truncated 
pyramids, 8 and 9 respectively. 

Truncated Pyramids. Complete pyra- 
midal figures are seldom wanted, but truncated 
pyramids, or pyramidal frusta, and portions of 
the same, occur constantly, alone or in combina- 
tion with other figures. Thus, taking one example 
by way of illustration, the pattern for a common 
octagonal tray with tapering sides is related to the 
truncated pyramid. Fig. 25 illustrates such a 
tray in plan and elevation, to be made in one 
piece, and though of polygonal outline, having 
small angular corners only. The centre lines, 
db and cd, divide it at right angles ; e, is the 
vertical height of the tray. Lay out one half 
the base [26] to the same dimensions as in 25, 
and draw through its centre, c, centre lines 
db and cd. Draw centre lines, hi, hi, 
through the corners, corresponding with hi, 
hi in 25. Now take the slant length fg 
[25] and transfer it to 26, to ag, bg, and 
dg. Draw the lines, aj, bj, dj, dj, per- 
pendicular to the main centre lines. Next 
take the lengths aj, bj, dj in 25, and 
transfer them to aj, bj, dj, dj in 26, which gives 
the lengths of the top edges of the tray sides. 

To obtain the lengths of the corner pieces, 
project the vertical height, e [25], to the small 
diagram on the right ; measure off the horizontal, 
or plan length, ih, in the upper figure and 
transfer to ih. Then the length of the slant 
line, fh, transferred to hi, hi in 26 will 
give the actual lengths of the corner pieces. 
Through hi the lines jj, jj, drawn at right angles 
with the centre lines hi, hi, will give the top 
edges of the corners. To get their length, 
measure off in 25, hj, hj, and transfer it to hj 
in 26, and draw the lines shown to the corre- 
sponding lines that give the bottom of the tray. 

Pyramids Oblique Figures. Taking 
now a few oblique examples, we must extend 
some of the fundamental facts already noticed 
as to the difference in perpendicular and slant 
heights of faces and edges. 

Fig. 27 shows a square oblique pyramid, the 
development of which is shown in 28. The 


real lengths are not ab, ac, but the dotted 
lengths ab', ac', obtained by taking off the 
slant lengths in plan, a'b and a'c respectively, 
and transferring them to the upper figure from a" ' . 

The development shown in 28 is obtained as 
follows : As the corners, A and B [27], have 
different lengths, measured from the apex, a, 
two radii are taken for these the projected 
ones, ab', ac', and struck from a in 28. Take 
the length of one side, be, or ce [v27], arid set 
it off four times [28], cutting the radii just 
struck, starting from ed, thence from db, 
be, and ce. Joining these intersections with 
lines, and also ae, and e at the extreme right 
and left, will complete the outline of the figure, 
while the lines dotted joining ad, be corre- 
spond with the three angular corners of the 
figure, where the sheet-metal is bent from the solid. 
The seams will be added down the sides ae, ae. 

Oblique Truncated Pyramids. The 
envelope of an oblique truncated pyramid 
[30] with square base is illustrated in 29. The 
essential construction, so far as the base and 
the slanting corners are concerned, is exactly 
like that in 27 and 28, and the same reference 
letters are retained, so that recapitulation is 
unnecessary. The top of the figure is determined 
by the cutting of the pyramid by the plane CC 
at a definite height, that of truncation. 

Clearly, now, nothing more is necessary, 
having the complete pyramid already produced, 
than to take off a set of measurements on the 
plane CC, in addition to those on the base 
line. The set corresponding with the base of 
the pyramid is obtained first as in 28, to which 
the same reference letters apply. The develop- 
ment of the top edge can be got either by taking 
lengths from ab", ac" [30], or by measuring up 
from b'b" and c'c" [30]. With these remarks 
the construction in 29 is clear. The seams are 
added from c"e [29]. 

Oblique Pyramids. The oblique pyra- 
mid with octagonal base [31] resembles 27 in the 
manner of its development. It is necessary to 
have the base outlined correctly in plan, as in the 
lower portion of the figure. The real lengths of 
the slant angles of the corners of the figure are not 
the full lines in the elevation (upper figure), but 
the longer dotted ones adjacent, obtained by 
measurement from the plan view (lower figure), 
thus : a'e, transferred to Ae', a'd to Ad', and 
a'c to Ac', and the same lines, of course, answer 
for the length from a'g, h, and i respectively. 
The lengths A&' and A/' are the same as a'b and 
a' f below, because obviously these do not slant 
away from the observer, but only in one direction, 
that in the perpendicular plane. 

To obtain the development in 32, take the 
successive radii [31] namely, ab', ac', ad', 
ae' , and af, and strike these radii in the 
manner shown in 32 ; the seam in this case has 
to be added on the inner angle ab' of the 
pyramid, though not shown. Then take the 
length of any side of the octagon, as be [31], 
and step that round six times between successive 
arcs, as shown in 32, b'c', c'd', etc. Unite 
the points of intersection with straight lines, 
which, with the lines ab', complete the boun- 

31. Octagonal oblique pyramid 32. Development of same 
33. Truncated oblique pyramid 34. Development of same 

35. Truncated pyramid to be developed by trian^ulation 

36. Development of same 37, 38. An alternative method 
39. Oblique truncated pyramid to be developed by triangu- 

lation 40. Development of same 

daries of the enveloping sheet. The dotted 
lines from a to the points of intersection are the 
seamless angles where bending is done. 

The truncated oblique pyramid with octagonal 
base [33] requires little explanation, following 
the previous examples, which include the 
essential features in its development. The base 
of 33 is developed in 34, as that of 32 is from 31, 
the same reference letters being retained. The 
truncated pprtion is treated like that in 29 and 
30 modified only by the difference in the rect- 



angular and octagonal forms. A , omparison of 
th,. ivf.-r.-nce letters in 29 and 30 with the in- 
structions already given will render the con- 
st,-... -ti..n of tin- developed outline in 34 clear, 
without repetition of details. 

Pyramidal Figures, with Apex 

Inaccessible-Right Figures. Many 

ftriae in which the taper is so slight that 

th.- upex is. for practical purposes, inaccessible. 

We now, therefore, give attention to other 

methods adopted, by obtaining certain points in 

-alar figures, which can be best explained 

lv a concrete example. 

The method of triangulation is based upon 
the fact that the perpendicular height of A, 
and the slant height B [35], and the diagonal 0, 
are mutually related, so that one can be obtained 
from the other. In this case, as in 25, the slant 
height can be obtained by direct measurement. 
But if there were no elevation it can be got from 
tin- plan, thus: 

The slant edge, ab, seen in plan, the real 
length of which corresponds with B in elevation, 
is taken as a base line. On this the perpendicu- 
lar be is raised, and upon this the vertical 
height be, equal to the vertical height of ab, 
To obtain the length of the diagonal, C, draw 
the diagonal de on the plan view. On it 
raise the perpendicular df, and measure on 
that df, equal to the vertical height A of the 
pyramid, and draw the diagonal ef, which will 
give the true, or slant length of de; orC in the 
elevation. These lengths, ac and ef, are 
now employed to develop the envelope of the 
truncated cone thus : In 36, a is a starting point 
in which the compass is set to mark the length 
of the slant height ac, taken from ac in 
35, and the length also of a side of the base 
ae, ae, equal to the length ge in 35. The 
length fe of the diagonal face [35] is-taken, and 
set off from ce and e in 36. The lines ae, ae, 
will be drawn to intersect the distances ae with 
ce. From e and e, set off arcs // equal in radius 
to ac, equal to B, the slant height of the figure 
35. Take the length bd of a side of the upper 
f.u<- [35], and set that off from cf, /. Draw 
lines, cf, cf, through the points of intersection. 
The remainder of the envelope is obtained by 
repeating these operations. 

An Alternative Method. Another 
method, in which the essential development by 
triangulation is similar, is illustrated hi 37 and 38. 
In 37 a line, ab, is drawn equal in length to the 
base length of a side of the pyramid, and pro- 
d to right and left. From a as centre, and 
radius ab, describe a semicircle and divide it 
into half as many equal parts, by c, d, as there are 
faces to the pyramid three for a hexagon, four 
for an octagon, etc. Draw the line ac through 
one (f t IK-SI- |H)ints of division ; ab, ac 
now represent the lengths of two base lines and 
cab is the angle which they make. The length of 
the boondmg lines on the upper or smaller end 
..f th.- frustum of the pyramid is obtained 
l.y M-tting off tin- length of a side from ae, 
and drawing a line ef parallel with ad. From 

/ the line fy is drawn parallel with ae, and fg is 
the length of a side on the smaller end ; cjh 
being drawn parallel with ab, and equal in length 
to qf gives the length of the side adjacent. The 
figure bacfgh is a plan view of two sizes of the 
figure required, but it does not as yet give the 
slant height of the sides and edges. These are 
obtained by. the triangulations of the previous 

g To obtain the slant height of the faces, let 
fall a perpendicular from gj, set off jk equal 
in length to the perpendicular height of the 
frustum of the pyramid. Then the length kg 
will give the slant height of the face, indicated 
in plan by gj. To obtain the slant height of the 
edges, draw gl perpendicular to ag, and equal in 
length to the perpendicular height jk. Then al 
joined will be the slant height of the edge ag. 

The developed pattern [38] is obtained thus : 
Draw the line al equal in length to the line al 
in 37. Then from a as centre, and radius aj, set 
off the arcs /, j in 38. With I as centre, and 
radius equal to kg [37], draw arcs intersect- 
ing jj, at jj, and draw lines from a through 
these points, prolonging them to b and c. Measure 
the length ab, ac, equal to the lengths ab, ac, 
and If, Ih, equal in length to gh, gf, in 37, com- 
pleting the development of two sides of the 
required frustum. 

Pyramids Oblique Figures. If, for 
any reason, a truncated oblique pyramid cannot 
conveniently be developed to the apex, as in 
39 and 40, Viangulation is available which we 
have just applied to right figures. Fig. 39 
illustrates, we will suppose, such a pyramid in 
plan, and of which we know the height of the 
figure. A line ij is drawn on the front slant, 
and on it another, jk, is raised, equal in height 
to the height of the figure. The diagonal, 
ik, then equals the slant height of the frustum 
on the outer face A. For the slant height of 
the faces B, draw the diagonal bg, on it 
raise the perpendicular yl, also equal in 
height to jk. The diagonal bl then equals the 
slant height of the faces B and B. To obtain 
the slant height of the face C that is, the face 
bounded by the corners, a, b, e, / draw the 
diagonal a/, on it raise the perpendicular fm 
equal in height to jk, and the diagonal am will 
equal in length that of the slant face C. 

The development is shown in 40. Draw a 
line ik equal in length to ik in 39, and draw 
two lines at its terminations at right angles 
with it. On these lines set off the lengths 
cd and gh, corresponding with those in 39. 
Take the diagonal bl in 39, and strike radii 
with it from gh [40] to ab. Measure the length 
of the sides, ad and cb, and strike radii with these, 
cutting those just struck at ab. Join ad and 
cb. Draw eh parallel with ad, and gf parallel 
with cb and equal in length to gf and he in 39. 
Take the diagonal am in 39, and strike an arc 
from fm [40]. Draw bm of length cd to inter- 
sect, and draw fe parallel with bm. The lines 
me, ae, will complete the boundary of the pat- 
tern outlines, and the dotted lines bf, eg, and 
dh are the angles for bending. 




The Three Aspects cf Man. Perfect Health. The Effect of Occupation. The 
Great Gain of Life in our Generation. Town Life and the Death Rate. 

Group 25 


page 4"?91 



[E normal man, like " the average man," 
is a being often heard of but seldom seen, 
because he rarely exists. Like pure air or pure 
water, he is supposed to be a commonplace, 
whereas in reality he is a great rarity. 

There seem to be sound psycho-physiological 
and even anatomical grounds for the tripartite 
division of man into spirit, soul, and body. 
The brain itself has naturally a threefold 
division anatomically, as pointed out by Dr. 
Hughlings Jackson. There is the cortex or surface 
of the brain in hemispheres, the mid-brain, 
composed mainly of two great masses respec- 
tively concerned in motion and sensation, and 
then there is the third and lowest the medulla 
and upper part of the spinal cord. That these 
three regions are broadly connected with three 
parts of man is shown by experiments on frogs 
and pigeons. It is found that a pigeon from which 
the cortex, or seat of the intelligence, or spirit, 
has been removed can still perform all the func- 
tions of animal life and physical existence, 
but it has lost the directing, guiding intelligence. 
It flies, but cannot direct its flight, and acts more 
or less like an automaton. , If the mid-brain be 
removed, the animal life goes, and bare existence 
remains. The bird can no longer fly or seek 
food, but if fed, can exist. 

The Three Parts of Man. We may 
thus anatomically and physiologically and 
psychologically say that with the cortex we live 
(spirit life), with the mid-brain we move (animal 
life), and with the medulla we exist (body life), 
or, in the words of the great Christian apologist 
on Mars Hill, " In Him we live and move and 
have our being." A man, therefore, must be 
regarded as a tripartite being. While mainly 
concerned with physical health, we seek to give 
due weight to intellectual and moral health, 
and, taking a broad view, deem no man in 
health whose spirit or soul is sick, though the 
tody may be sound. 

" In good health," says one well-known 
hygienist, broad enough to survey man as man, 
" there must be the capacity and desire for every 
kind of prolonged physical exertion with skill, 
ease, and pleasure. But this is not enough. 
There must be the capacity and desire for every 
kind of prolonged intellectual exertion with skill, 
ease, and pleasure. But this is not enough. 
There must be the capacity and desire for every 
kind of prolonged spiritual activity with skill, 
ease, and pleasure, and there must be evidence 
that all three divisions are in health." 

Not that the three divisions are equal. Mr 
Eustace Miles has graphically shown their true 
relations somewhat after this manner : 

In health, spirit controls the soul, vbich con- 
trols the body. 

In ill-health, body controls the soul, which 
controls the spirit. 

In other words, a strong body obeys the mind, 
a weak one rules it. 

The Healthy Man. In full health a man 
lives as simply and cheaply as he can. There 
is self-control and purity, patience, candour, 
altruism, contentment, and happiness. He is 
healthy in all circumstances, and, even if the 
balance be upset by bad environment, the 
healthy man soon unconsciously compensates, 
and the balance is restored with ease. 

Health, it has been well said, is a constant 
equibration rather than a constant equilibrium 
that is to say, there are daily variations, and 
constant oscillations, and not a fixed condition. 
Health is like a block of wood with many sides ; 
so that whichever way it is pushed over, it 
stands equally well. The healthy man controls 
his circumstances, and is not controlled by them. 
Ideal health is largely independent of condi- 
tions. The athlete is not a healthy man, nor 
the student, nor the saint. Each one has a 
tendency to develop one part of himself at the 
expense of the other two. The recent develop- 
ment of colour photography is a good illustration 
of this. There are three colours in nature, 
as there are three parts in man, and any scene 
that has to be photographed in colours has to 
have three exposures, each one made by cut- 
ting off two-thirds of the light, which, of course, is 
itself made up of all three colours. These ex- 
posures are then printed in red, yellow, and blue, 
and when one is shown on a screen we get the 
landscape in shades of red, when the yellow is 
superimposed we get the orange and yellow 
tints added, but all is glaringly unlike Nature. 
But the moment the third part, the blue, is 
added, all falls into perfect harmony, and we 
get the browns and greys, and all the subdued 
half tints of Nature herself. So with man ; 
it is not until we get the three parts spirit, soul, 
and body superimposed, and all in healthy 
development, that we can see and know what 
is a true man. 

The Physical Man. What, then, is a 
human being physically ? If a man, he is, in 
the perfection of civilised life in this twentieth 
century, an individual six feet high, weighing 
thirteen stone. In certain manufacturing districts 
he is only five feet one and a half inches, and 
averages seven and a half stone in weight. All 
averages, however, are being now constantly 
exceeded, and must soon be raised. At birth, 
if a man, he will now expect to live only for 
45 years, if a woman, for 47 years, although it 
is believed that his full span of life should be 
105, or five times the period of his growth. He 
is essentially a unity, and yet a unity in diversity. 



A Unity in Diversity. It will, of 
course, occur to all that he is a trinity in 
unity. ;i compound of body, soul, spirit, and 

y.-t Inn on.- ni.iu, one personality. A collection 
i>t di\ri> ma- liincs of complex structure, and 
. oiMni.-tfd of heterogeneous materials, all 
< rumbling away at different rates, he yet moves, 
and acts as an independent unit, governed as 
regard- tlie lite of his body by the one unify- 
ing factor, the unconscious mind ; as regards its 
actions by his conscious mind, the two forming 
l>ut one mind, one character, one ego, and the 
\\hole. with the body, forming one person man. 

This man, if he survives the first two or three 

years of his life, will probably live to 75 instead of 

; and his life would then be divided into 

t hree stages of about 25 years each, the first being 

growth, the second maturity, and the third decay. 

The height and minimum weight of those men 
who do not reach the high standard of six feet 
and 13 stone, if in perfect health, are as follows : 
."> ft . f> in. = 10| stone. 5 ft. 9 in. = 1 1 stone. 
.-) ft. 7 in. = lOJf 5 ft, 10 in. = 12 
5 ft. 8 in. =11 5 ft. 11 in. = 12| 

The points to look for in man are height 
in relation to weight, perfection of movement, 
and sensation. 

The Slaughter of Life. As to physique, 
it must be remembered that the measurements 
we have given are far in excess of those of 
ancient times, for the race is supposed to in- 
crease, as we have already said, in stature in 
civilised countries at the rate of 1J in. in every 
1,000 years. Not only so, but, low as the 
average of 45 years out of a possible 105 may 
appear, it is really a very great advance over 
that of 36 in the early part of the nineteenth, 
or 20 in the eighteenth century, and is mainly 
due to the increase of private and public hygiene 
everywhere. It is probably an understatement 
to say that hygiene saves now some 120,000 
lives every year. And yet to-day the needless 
mortality .amongst infante (some 50,000) is 
terrible and shameful, for the low average of 
45 years is mainly due to the enormous infant 
mortality that persists. Whenall babies under six 
months old drink nothing but clean milk infant 
mortality will at once be reduced by one-half 

Occupation hag a bearing upon the health and 
longevity of the man, as this table shows : 

t w,.l be Men that clerks of all sorts are the 
lv peopk who In- th, right time according 
I" 1 ' -vorage; that is. that they die at 

te of 100 per cent., and at 45 years of age 

Why People Die. The clergy head the list 
and live nearly twice as long as the average. 
They come of a good stock, are temperate 
in habits, and have a small but assured income. 
Free Church ministers die a little faster. Farmers 
live long, but would show up better if they 
spent less money in drink. The agricultural 
labourer's favourable lot in life (only three- 
fourths of the average death-rate) is all the 
more striking when contrasted with that of the 
town labourer (the lowest but one), who dies just 
twice as fast as he should. Grocers owe their 
higher death-rate to the spirits they consume. 
Lawyers are well off, but it is found that after 
45 they die off more quickly than they used to 
do, probably from increased strain of life. 

Drapers die mainly from consumption, owing 
to the amount of dust in their trade, which 
makes it less healthy than that of a grocer. The 
health of coal miners, which is surprising, is prob- 
ably due to the fact that only strong men enter 
the colliery, and to the harmlessness of coal dust. 
Artists owe their higher mortality to the fact 
that with thwn are included engravers and 
sculptors, among whom the death-rate is high. 
Bakers die usually from drink and suicide. 
Clerks occupy the average, as we have seen, and 
their death-rate is much lower than it used to 
be, owing probably to better ventilation of 
offices and increased exercise. 

The table ranges from the clergyman, with a 
mortality of 55 per 100, to the pot-boy, with 
220 a difference that needs no words to show 
the value of hygienic influence. Nevertheless, 
as a whole, this table, composed in 1885, shows 
an improvement over previous ones that is 
equivalent to an addition of 2,000,000 years 
of life annually to the nation. Since then the 
improvement has continued steadily. 

The Perfect Man. A man "in order" is, 
then, as a whole, one free from disease, func- 
tional or organic, whose weight bears a certain 
relation to his height and general physique ; 
who leads a healthy life, and pursues, if needed, 
some healthy calling ; who is temperate in all 
things, avoiding intoxication, physical, mental, 
or moral ; who gives due balance of work to 
both physical and psychic natures ; to whom 
every morning is a resurrection, and whose 
life is one of perfect personal ease and action 
both in mind and body. All his three natures 
are in perfect harmony, so that internal discord 
is unknown ; and lastly, but above all the rest, 
he is " in tune with the Infinite." 

The personal appearance of this man will be 
the mean between fat and thin ; his shoulders 
will be broad ; his hips lean ; his chest well 
developed; his hair probably brown in this 
country for, comparing the proportion of the 
different shades of hair, there are about eight 
brown to every six either light or dark brown, 
or four fair, or two either black or flaxen, or one 
red. He will have a clear, bright eye ; a frank, 
noble, pure expression ; a clear, soft, unwrinkled 
skin; elastic arteries, with good heart, lungs,* 
and liver, good digestion, and perfect sight and 

The best time 

Manhood in its perfection may be said to 
extend from 25 to 55 years of age, the whole of 
which time should be a period of perfect health, 
equally free from the dangers and diseases 
attending youth and growth on the one hand, 
and those attending old age and degeneration 
on the other. Absolute perfection may be said 
to be attained about 40. 

Marriage and Health. 
for marriage is for woman, 
from 21 to 28, the limits being 
20 to 35 ; for a man, 28 to 
35, the limits being 24 to 40. 
For a happy marriage there 
should be some contrast 
between the pair, but not too 
great a difference in tastes, 
position, temperament, age, 
size, and race. Neither 
should be seriously diseased, 
and if healthy up to the age 
of marriage, the fact of being 
the offspring of diseased 
parent or parents is not a 
sufficient bar to union. The 
marriage of healthy cousins 
is sometimes detrimental in 
one generation, but, if per- 
sisted in for several, results in 
a dwarfed and deteriorated race. A town dweller 
of three generations should certainly marry into 
a country stock. The health of the parents is of 
the utmost value to the offspring. Hence nerves 
should be kept in order in married life, not only 
for selfish, but for altruistic reasons. All ex- 
excesses of body, soul, or spirit should be carefully 
avoided, and moderation and temperance in 
all things should be practised. When the food 
is scanty and poor, boys are likely to prepon- 
derate ; where plentiful and generous, girls are 
most numerous. 

Marriages are not so fruitful if the man is 
younger than the woman, or more than' 10 
years older. The boy and girl unions amongst 
the less educated are the great cause' of the 
infant mortality. A woman reaches her "per- 
fection at thirty-five years of age, a man at 
forty. At this period of life many .of the 
rules of hygiene have to be radically changed. 
As long as the body was growing, one 'could 
'hardly eat too much food, but now abstinence 
is the rule, and the weight once fixed shoukl 
be by no means exceeded. , > 

The table on this page gives the approximate 
weight of men, women and children at different 
ages (clothes average 7 lb., or lb., without 

With regard to food, the majority of us eat 
too much. A man should be most strict hot to 
exceed his settled weight as shown by the- scales. 

What we Should Eat. It is well to 
eat a good breakfast, a good luncheon, and a 
plain and somewhat scanty dinner. Both the 
digestion and assimilation get Aveaker as the day 
goes on. The French breakfast at twelve or one 
o'clock is too late for English habits, and the early 
roll and coffee is not enough by itself to do ;i 
morning's work on. It has been found that 


on the coffee and roll a French workman does 
only some 250 to 300 foot -tons of work as 
compared with the Englishman's 500 on a better 

But it is not only the habit of eating too 
much that has to be resisted at this age : there 
is the question of drinking. Strict moderation 
is increasingly imperative in the wear and tear 
of modern life, and a very careful watch should 

All Classes. 

Upper Classes only. 

All Classes. 




Men (with 






ft. in. 

St. Ill, 

st. lb. 



ft. in. 

st. lb. 

ft. in. 

st, lb. 

4 10 




3 2fc 

3 2 

4 11 

7 4 



3 5 

8 8 




7 7 




3 8 

3 12 

3 7J 

3 1 

5 1 

7 12 

8 4 



3 10 

4 1 

3 } 

3 5 

5 2 




3 11 

4 3 

3 10i 

3 10 

5 3 

8 9 

9 7 

35 } 


4 If 

4 6 

4 Oi 

4 1 

5 4 

9 2 

9 13 



4 5 

4 11 

4 3 

4 6 

5 5 

9 9 

10 2 



4 6i 

5 2 

4 5* 

4 12 

5 6 

9 13 

10 5 



4 8i 

5 10 

4 8 

5 6 

5 7 

10 8 

10 8 



4 10i 

6 4 

4 10 

6 4 

5 8 

11 4 

11 1 

38 J 


5 1 

7 1 


6 12 


11 8 



5' 3i 

7 12 

5 1 

7 8 

5 10 

12 1 



5 6J 

9 2 

5 H 

8 1 

5 11 

12 6 



5 8 

10 1 

5 2J 

8 3 


12 10 

40 1 


5 8i 

10 6 

5 3 

8 9 

6 1 




5 8f 

10 8 

5 3i 

8 12 

6 2 

13 7 



5 9 

10 12 

5 3} 

8 12 

be kept against the growth of any habits at 
this period ; for it needs but one or two evil ones 
to wreck fatally the most promising life. 

As to dress, a flannel belt is of value, and is a 
protection in many ways. It must be remem- 
bered that fat does not lessen the risk of taking 
cold but rather increases it. 

Bathing in ice-cold water is not advisable 
after 35 or 40, but the coldest water is always 
safe when standing in hot. The hair should not 
be constantly wetted, as this tends to baldness ; 
but the whole body should be bathed every day, 
and washed with soap once a week. 

The bodily powers, as measured by the force 
of respiration and circulation, vary very much in 
the twenty-four hours, and there can be no doubt 
that two o'clock in the morning is the weakest 
time of the twenty-four. It is the hour of 
most births and most deaths. 
. These diagrams show the varying force of 
respiration and circulation through the day : 




In these diagrams the dot represents death 
or the stoppage of life ; the inner line is that 
of respiratory force, the outer the circulatory. 

The life should be conducted so that theie 
is neither gain nor loss, but an even weight for 



30 years at least. A long journey every day by 
train is eertainly bad, and a great strain on t In- 
ner vous system. For sedentary occupations 
it is of great value to be able to walk to and 
from business. If there is difficulty about 
going to sleep at night a good plan is to rise 
half an hour earlier each day until you go to 
sleep as soon as you go to bed. 

The Three Dangerous Ages. 
Avoid all irregularities and excesses, strains 
on the heart, worry, loss of sleep and obesity. 
There are said to be three periods when one 
is prone to sickness at 36, when the lean tend 
to get fat, and the fat lean ; from 45 to 50 the 
climacteric ; and at 61 another crisis occurs, 
when the powers of life may suddenly fail. 

In spite of the rush of people from country 
to town, in spite of the enormous size of London 
and the growth of all our cities, every generation 
at the present day lives in the aggregate millions 
more years than in the " good old times." 

The difference between the present time and 
fifty years ago may be well shown. Out of a 
million men born 62,000 are alive at 20 years 
of age who would then have been dead ; at 
50 the same number ; while even at 70 we have 
over 15,000 to the good. Surely this shows the 
solid value of health laws in adult life ! 

It may be said that in this country, at the 
age of 20, over 2,500,000 people are living now 
who, 50 years ago, out of a similar number of 
the same age, would have been dead ; and 
when we know that each person on an average is 
said to be worth 156, this represents an addition 
of nearly 400,000,000 to the assets of the nation. 
So that hygiene pays its way. 

We are constantly being warned of the ill 
effects of the present rush of life. Diseases of 
the nervous system are increasing, and diseases 
of heart and lungs and liver are rife ; but zymotic 
diseases arc much fewer, so that we die now more 
from wearing out some part of the body than 
by a premature poisoning by germs. 

Town Life and Health. On the whole, 
life was never so safe from fatalities as at present. 
At any single year up to 79 there are more sur- 
vivors out of any given number than formerly ; 
but, curiously enough, over this there are fewer, 
and this is said to be mainly due to the modern 
preference for town life. The increase of mortal- 
ity due to this cause is amazing. If a labourer 
comes to town he takes, on an average, 20 years 
off his life. At 65 years of age, out of 100,000 
persons born, nearly 20,000 more are alive in the 
country generally than in a large town. 

Afl hygiene lengthens our days, we cut them 

short by our town lives ; and it would be greatly 

to be regret t ed if mere length of life represented the 

"'"-' 'l'sidTatum. I'.m this is far from bone 

tie case, and, doubtless, a large number of those 

'spend their years in town can show how 

""'I' 'l"-y and others have benefited in other 

ways even if they have lost 

L There is. llouvv.-r. 

can be no doubt that the modern appliances for 
saving time and wear and tear have greatly 
lessened the evils produced by the greater rush 
of life. 

Care of Old Age. Now, as to the care 
of old age, the chief points are moderate 
and digestible food, sufficient warmth, and an 
even and quiet life. The chief of the three is 
the food, or fuel for the lamp of life. While all 
fixed dieting is bad where it can possibly be 
avoided, a few hints can be given that may prove 
of value. The older a person is after 50, the 
less food he requires. Luigi Cornaro, who livei 
to 100, though of a feeble constitution, took 
12 ounces of solid food and 14 ounces of fluid 
daily during the latter part of his life ; and his 
most severe illness was caused by his increasing 
his allowance, through the continual entreaties 
of his friends. Very little proteid or animal 
food is required, and though in many respects 
false teeth are a great boon to the aged, they 
may lead to too great a consumption of animal 
food. It is not the amount of coals we put in 
a grate that warms the room, but the amount 
that can be burnt; and the great point is to 
avoid choking the digestive and excretory 
organs with excess of food. The food of the 
nursery is the best in old age. Bread-and-milk 
and honey is a capital diet. Milk agrees with 
nearly all. Hot milk with a little Mellin's 
Food forms an admirable drink at night, and can 
be kept warm in a hot- water jug covered with 
a cosy. Fruit is wholesome if ripe or well 
cooked. Fat, as cream or fresh butter, is 
good. Warm food is very suitable. Soup 
enriched with cream or marrow is light and 
nourishing. All meals should be . regular, and 
all excesses avoided. If weight is being gained 
the diet should be decreased. In addition to the 
after-dinner nap, as years creep on, a doze after 
breakfast and before dinner is often helpful. 

Clothing and Warmth. Clothing should 
be both warm and light. The underclothing 
should be of wool. Fur is an admirable 
material. A sealskin waistcoat is useful, and 
the feet and hands should be well and warmly 
clothed. An eider-down quilt on the bed, 
which should be warmed in winter, is a good 
covering. No aged person should be suffered to 
get cold in bed. The warmth of the bed is of 
great importance in old age. A warm bath should 
be taken every day, and a warmer bath, with 
plenty of a pure mild soap to keep the skin 
supple and soft, should be used twice a week. 
It is better for old people who have the oppor- 
tunity to winter in the South of Europe, if 
possible. If not, the aged should shut them- 
selves up in a well warmed house at this 

The rooms should be at a temperature of 65 
to 70. The habits of old people should not be 
lightly altered. Whatever excites exhaustion 
rising is, therefore, 
is not good, as it 




Nature and Properties of Glass. Manufacture of Glass Pots. The Furnaces. 
A Series of Recipes. Annealing and Hardening. Crown and Sheet Glass 

Group 2 


Following on ART 
from page 439"> 

I T is not within the scope of this article to trace 
the history of the manufacture of glass. It 
will suffice to note that the first window glass was 
made in England at Crutched Friars, London, 
in 1557, and fine articles of flint glass soon 
afterwards at Savoy House. The first sheets of 
blown glass for looking-glass and coach windows 
were made in 1673, at Lambeth, by Venetian 
workmen. The abolition of the Excise duties on 
glass, in 1845, may be considered the starting- 
point of the modern glass industry in England, 
which at once expanded into an enormous 

What is Glass ? Glass may be defined as 
a non-crystalline, transparent, solid substance 
produced by melting at a high temperature 
silica, or a similar body, with an alkali. In 
place of silica Iterates and phosphates have been 
used, and the term alkali must be taken in its 
most elastic sense to include alkaline earths 
such as lime and baryta. 

It is usual to regard glass as insoluble in 
water, although it is not so, strictly speaking, 
infinitesimal amounts being soluble. Alkarine 
solutions have a slightly greater solvent power on 
glass than water, but acids act but little on 
glass with the exception of 
hydrofluoric acid. 
"Age and Weather Affect 
Glass. The weathering of 
ancient glass in cathedral win- 
dows is due to the decomposing 
action of atmospheric moisture, 
and a special " disease " of old 
glass has been traced to a fun- 
|oid growth. The iridescence TO **^ D 
of old glass is due to exposure 
to moist air or damp earth for long periods. Sir 
William Crooks has traced a curious lavender 
coloration of glass to the action of ozone in the 
air. The brittleness of glass will occur to the 
reader as one of its most characteristic features ; 
but curiously enough, glass drawn out into fine 
threads is quite flexible, and a mixture of glass 
and silk has been used to make a fabric of 
exquisite sheen. When hot glass is rapidly 
cooled it often breaks, because it is a bad con- 
ductor of heat. The exterior surface of the glass 
cools more rapidly than the inner portions, un- 
equal contraction and usually fracture resulting. 
The thinner a glass vessel is the less liable it is 
to break. It is quite usual for chemists to put 
boiling water into thin blown vessels without 
any untoward results ; but as soon as thick- 
walled vessels are submitted to similar treatment 
trouble begins. When newly- made gkss is allowed 
to cool quickly great tension is put upon the 
various strata of glass so that if such a vessel 
be scratched it flies to pieces. This effect of 
tension is overcome by cooling glass slowly, the 


whole process being known as annealing. Glass 
is impervious to gases and is a bad conductor 
of electricity. 

Glass Pots. The crucibles in which the glass 
materials for making pots are melted are made of 
fireclay and require the greatest care in the manu- 
facture, as imperfections lead to fracture of the 
pot and consequent waste of glass. In Great 
Britain the most famous fireclays are those 
from Stourbridge and Glenboig, near Glasgow. 
Other famous fireclays are obtained from 
Forges -les-Eaux in France, Namur in Belgium, 
Sargenau in Switzerland, and Schwarzenfel in 
Bavaria. In the United States the Missouri 
plastic clays are chiefly used. The composition 
of fireclay is mainly silica and alumina com- 
bined with a small percentage of water, which 
last-named, being expelled in the drying and 
annealing process causes a considerable amount 
of shrinking in the pot. 

Preparing Fireclay. The virgin fireclay 
is carefully picked over to remove impurities, 
dried, ground, and sifted. To counteract the 
shrinking of the pots a proportion of old glass 
pot or ground burnt clay is always mixed with 
the raw fireclay. A mixture such as the follow- 
ing is used : Ground pot scrap, 3 parts : ground 
burnt clay, 4 parts ; ground raw clay, 6 parts. 
These ingredients are carefully mixed and sifted 
and measured into a lead or zinc-lined trough. 
The mass is then damped with water, allowed 
to stand for two days and kneaded. This 
kneading is accomplished by workmen tramp- 
ling in the clay from side to side of the tank, the 
warmth and elasticity of the naked feet being 
considered better for developing the plasticity 
of the clay than the pug mill sometimes em- 
ployed. The treading is repeated at intervals, 
some months being allowed for the material to 
mature. There results finally a dense plastic 
clay from which the pots are 
fashioned. The workman makes 
the clay into rolls, taking care 
that no air cavities are left, and 
begins modelling the pot on a 
board or stone covered with 
granulated pot scrap or burnt 
2. CLOSED POT clay. The roll of clay is laid in 
FOR FLINT GLASS a spiral manner, the edges being 
scored to promote adhesion 
of the separate layers, the bottom and sides 
of the pot being in this way gradually built 
up. The two kinds of pots are illustrated in 1 
and 2, the former being the open pot used 
for plate and sheet glass, the covered pot 
being the kind used for flint glass-making. 
The drying of the pots is very carefully regulated, 
the process occupying from four to 21 months. 
The final process consists in annealing the 
pots by heating them for a few days gradually 



to red heat and glazing. The interior of the pot obtained by heating coal. These furnaces are 
is glazed by throwing in a quantity of broken also constructed in connection with a Siemens 
just before use. The coating thus given 

pr..teet* the el;;y fiolil t 'C action of the alkali 

used in meltings. 

Melting Glass. Glass is melted in a modi- 
tied form of reverberatory furnace, gaseous fuel 
being employed. The furnaces are constructed 
upon the p-neral principles of obtaining the 
most intense heat possible, regularity in main- 
taining this heat, and 
economy of fuel. Silica 
bricks, which are quite in- 
fusible if kept free from 
.ilkali, are used for the 
most exposed parts of the 
furnace, but fireclay bricks 
of the most refractory kind 
are the general material of 
which the furnace is built. 


and they are 

The fireclay is mixed with 
ground flint before being 
ro.uie into bricks, and the bricks are used 
u thout previous drying. The bricks are bound 
together with iron. After building, the furnace 
is left to dry for some months, and then the 
drying is completed by firing. A furnace lasts 
from two to five years. 

The Furnace. The older dome-shaped 
type of furnace [4] consists of two parts the 
combustion chamber and the cave or draught 
chamber beneath. Between the two, in the centre, 
is the grate, which is sunk a few feet below the 
siege, or bench upon which the glass melting- 
pots are placed [3]. From 4 to 18 pots are 
accommodated on the siege 
reached for working or 
charging by a small arched 
opening situated directly 
over each pot. In the 
case of the covered pots 
used for flint glass the 
mouth of the pot is 
exposed on the outside of 
the furnace walls. The 
combustion chamber is 
surmounted by a low 
flattened arch for the 
purpose of reverberating 
the tlarne. The products 
of combustion are led by 
i"' aiis of short flues 
situated beside each of 
the pot* into the large 
chimney surmounting the 
farnaoe, A doul.le-arched 
roof is arranged in some 
kinds of furnace. The 
draught needed t., pro- 
note combustion of the 

OOal i- obtained by means of thecave, which 

s EreqwmUv an-an-red in two MUMaget at i-ijrh, 

hat advantage can be taken of the 

""' " the wind. As a good deal depends 

M the regularity with which the fuel is supplied. 

mechanical feeders are employed. 'I'll, 

" type 

regenerator, the air and gas entering through 
the bench of the furnace within the circle of pots. 
The Siemens Furnace. In 1861, 0. W. 
Siemens and F. Siemens obtained a patent 
for a glass furnace in which regenerators are 
applied to receive the waste heat of the products 
of combustion and conduct it to the air needed 
for supporting combustion. The solid fuel is de- 
composed or gasified in a 
separate apparatus, and 
heated to a high tempera- 
ture before it enters the 
glass furnace. Since then, 
notably in 1870 and 1872, 
further improvements have 
been patented. 

The Siemens type of fur- 

GLASS-MAKING FURNACE nace is now very general, but 
has been altered in many 
ways since its first intro- 



duction. The gas producer, for instance, is now 
made as part of the furnace, and the expense is 
lessened, because the regenerator is omitted. 

In the newer furnaces the ordinary glass 
melting-pots are replaced by tanks, and as the 
melting is generally continuous, great economy 
of fuel is effected over the older kind. There is 
also an intermittent type of tank furnace 
which is necessary for some kinds of work. In 
the* continuous tank furnace a capacity of 12 
to 20 tons each 24 hours is usual, such a furnace 
being worked with two shifts of men. A furnace 
of this description, having a capacity of 12 
tons, uses about 8 tons of bituminous gas coal 
each 24 hours, the 12 ton 
production being the net 
product over and above all 
v,aste and breakage. The 
furnaces are more durable 
than the old furnaces, be- 
cause in keeping up the 
heat the firebricks are not 
so strained by being sub- 
jected to great changes of 

Electric Furnaces. 
Many attempts have been 
made to use the heat of an 
electric arc for melting 
glass materials, two of the 
most promising electric 
furnaces being figured in 
5 and 6. In the Voelker 
furnace [5] the hopper feeds 
the material, which passes 
in succession between car- 
bon arcs. Direct current 
generated by a 360-ampere 

dynamo with a voltage of 120 is passed through 
the carbons. The intense heat of the first arc 
melts the raw material and causes it to trickle 
downwards, bringing it under the influence of 
the second arc, and then of the third arc. The 
melted glass collects in the cup beneath and 


furnace bottles can be blown within half an 

hour of charging the hopper. Referring to the 

illustration of the Becker furnace [6], the three 

small circles represent the carbons, the passage 

of the raw material being indicated by the dotted 

lines. From the left-hand tank the melted 

glass passes over a bridge into the right-hand 

side and is free from bubbles of gas and ready for 


Glassmakers' Recipes. 

The following standard recipes 

for making various kinds of glass 

are intended to give a general 

idea of the proportions of 

materials employed. In practice 

the number of recipes is very 

great, different makers preferring 

certain mixtures of ingredients. 
CROWN GLASS. 1. Silica (sand), 

600 parts ; chalk, 65 parts; sodium 

carbonate, 400 parts ; cullet (broken 

glass), 500 parts. 2. Silica, 400 parts ; 

quicklime, 64 parts ; sodium sulphate. 

200 parts ; charcoal, 16 parts. 

WINDOW GLASS. 1. Silica, 1 -20 
parts ; potassium carbonate, 60 
parts ; arsenic, 1 part ; borax, 2 parts. 
2. Silica, 100 parts ; chalk 25 parts ; sodium sulphate, 
35 parts ; cullet, 100 parts ; arsenic, 1 part ; charcoal, 

1 \ parts ; manganese oxide, part. 

PLATE GLASS. 1. Silica, 400 parts ; sodium 
carbonate, 250 parts, chalk, 30 parts, 2. Silica. 
100 parts; quicklime, 12 parts ; potassium carbonate, 
6 parts; sodium carbonate, 33 parts: cullet, 100 
parts ; manganese oxide, J part ; potassium nitrate 
(nitre), 2 parts. 

336 parts; potassium carbonate, 112 parts; red 
lead, 224 parts ; manganese oxide, J part ; potassium 
nitrate, 20 parts. 2. Silica, 300 parts ; chalk, 60 parts : 
potassium carbonate, 105 parts ; red 
lead, 160 parts; cullet, 100 parts; 
manganese oxide, 1J parts. 

BARYTA GLASS. Silica, 350 parts ; 
sodium carbonate, 100 parts ; 
barium carbonate, 300 parts ; lead 
oxide, 230 parts. 

LIME FLINT GLASS. Silica, 400 
parts ; chalk, 35 parts ; sodium 
carbonate, 155 parts ; potassium 
nitrate, .20 parts : arsenic, 2 parts : 
manganese oxide, 2 parts. 

BOTTLE GLASS. Silica, 100 parts : 
chalk, 5 parts ; potassium carbonate, 
20 parts ; sodium sulphate (Glauber's 
Salts), 15 parts. 

parts ; chalk, ?8 parts ; sodium 
sulphate, 40 parts ; cannel coal. 
14 parts ; charcoal, 8 parts. 

OPAL GLASS. Silica, 100 parts ; 
potassium carbonate, 30 parts ; red 
lead, 120 parts ; arsenic, 4 parts : 
borax, 4 parts ; calcium phosphate, 
14 parts. 

240 parts ; sodium nitrate, 64 parts ; 
manganese oxide, 1 part ; red lead. 


36 parts ; red lead, 10 parts ,- cullet, 200 parts ; 
cobalt oxide, | part ; copper oxide, 7 parts. 

GREEN GLASS. Silica, 100 parts ; chalk, 20 parts ; 
sodium carbonate, 33 parts ; iron oxide, 3 parts ; 
copper oxide, 5 parts ; potassium bichromate, l| 
parts ; potassium nitrate, 5 parts. 

YELLOW GLASS. Silica, 125 parts ; potassium 
carbonate, 37 parts ; red lead, 52 parts ; potassium 
nitrate, 7 parts ; uranium oxide, 2 parts. 

Preparing and Melting the Batch. 
The various ingredients for the batch of glass are 
ground and sifted, each of the materials having 
been carefully weighed to ensure an uniform 
composition. The mixing is done either 
with a shovel or more often now in a special 
mixing machine. Formerly a calcining 
process called fritting was em- 
ployed before filling the " melt " 
into the glass pots, but the superior 
purity of the ingredients now em- 
ployed has rendered this opera- 
tion unnecessary. The material 
is charged into the pots, which 
are already strongly heated in 

VOELKER'S ELECTRIC the furnace, and as the ingredients 
FURNACE sink with fusion more material is 

introduced until the pot is full, 
each of the additions being allowed to melt com- 
pletely before the fresh introduction of material. 
This first part of the process the melting takes 
from 10 to 12 hours. Gases are given off from 
the mass as it melts, these answering the purpose 
of stirring the semi-fluid mass and also helping 
the fusion. A potato, apple, or stick of green 
wood i$ sometimes introduced to generate 
additional gas during this stage. When melting 
is complete a scum rises to the surface, which is 
known as sandiver or glass gall. This scum is 
removed by means of a ladle. The 
temperature meanwhile has been 
increased to make the glass more 
fluid and facilitate the refining or 
plaining. The exact stage of 
refining is ascertained by taking 
samples of the glass and noting 
whether the glass is homogeneous 
and free from colour. When the 
glass is found to be quite plain, 
the temperature is reduced so as 
to make the glass more viscous 
and ready for use by the glass- 
blower. This is known as cold 
stoking or standing off, and is 
brought about by the introduction 
of a cold-air blast, so that the 
temperature of the furnace is con- 
tinued for the benefit of other 
pots. The temperature is reduced 
gradually so that the impurities 
can rise to the surface. 


:>."><> parts : 
arsenic, 23 parts ; antimony oxide, 1 part. 

ALABASTER GLASS. Silica, 100 parts ; potassium 
carbonate, 40 parts ; borax, 5 parts ; French chalk, 
5 parts. 

BED GLASS. Silica, 128 parts ; potassium nitrate. 
64 parts ; manganese oxide, i part : red lead 144 
parts; antimony oxide, J part; dissolved gold, 
i part, 

BLUE GLASS. Silica, 100 parts : chalk, 25 parts ; 
potassium nitrate. 6 parts ; sodium carbonate, 

In the case of tank furnaces only the space 
inside the floating fireclay rings is cleared of 
scum. The various temperatures are judged by 
the workmen, but accurate work in this direction 
is done by means of porcelain cones, which soften 
at known temperatures. The temperature of 
the glass furnace is variously estimated at from 
1200 F. to 3600 F. The refining process takes 
from four to six hours. 



Annealing. The process of annmliiKj is 

to impart strength and durability to 

glass The method simply consists of heating 

lass and cooling it gradually, so as to make 

. l.iss nearly or quite homogeneous. The 

in which the annealing is done are 

, ailed leers or Ithr*. and vary in construction 

Imp to the purpose for which they are used. 
For sheet glass the ordinary leer consists of an 
arched tunnel kept heated from one end by suit- 
:..! furnaces, and through which the sheets of 
glass to be annealed are caused to travel with an 
intermittent motion. For annealing small glass 
articles, such as tumblers and jugs, a train of 
trucks is caused to travel slowly along a leer, 
which is about 30 ft. long. The heat becomes 
less and less as the leer is traversed, the rate of 

i 1.. ing arranged so that the annealing is 
tinished by the time the articles reach the far end. 

Glass. Many 
attempts have 
been made to 
render glass less 
fragile, and so to 
increase its use- 
fulness. In 1874, 

rod, called a pontil or punty rod, is applied to the 
bullion point, and the blowing tube detached by 
touching it with cold water at its juncture with 
the glass. A hole is left at the point where the 
blowing tube was attached, and this, by rotation 
and heating, is enlarged until finally, by centri- 
fugal force, the edges flap outwards and form 
a perfectly flat plate of uniform thickness except 
in the centre where the iron rod was attached, 
the lump of glass being known as the bullion or 
bull's-eye. When cooled sufficiently the plate 
of glass is cut free from the punty rod by shears 
and then lifted by means of an iron fork into the 
annealing furnace. There the temperature w 
gradually lowered for from 24 to 48 hours, and 
the plates taken out and cut up for sale. Owing 
to the bull's-eye in the centre, squares of glass 
of the size of 38 by 24 in. or 35 by 25 in. only 
can be cut, and it is this limitation that has 
tended to displace 
crown glass by 
other processes by 
which larger sheets 
are obtained. 



French engineer, Bastie, 

discovered that by plunging glass vessels 
heated to their softening point into melted fat 
or heated oil, the glass was rendered so tough 
that a diamond would not scratch the surface. 
The glass so treated is, however, liable to explode 
or fly to pieces. Other processes, modifications 
of Bastie's method, have been suggested, and 
the Siemens method of 
rapid cooling between 
metal plates is used with 
some success. A modern 
development, the result 
of investigations by 
Schott, consists in flash- 
a glass of smaller co- 

another form of window glass, and is made by 
blowing a cylinder and flattening out the 
cylinder into a sheet. A larger piece of glass 
can be obtained by this process than from 
crown glass, as there is no loss of glass due to 
the bull's-eye. The manufacture may be divided 
into two chief operations : (1) blowing the cylinder 
and (2) flattening. The workman gathers a lump 
of glass as in the process 
of making crown glass, 
and by rotating on 
the marver, reheating, 
swinging, and blowing, 
forms the cylinder, the 


8. The end of the 

efficient of expansion upon a glass of a known 
coefficient, thus reducing the tension resulting 
from the sudden application of heat and cold. 
This glass is known as compound glass or ver- 

Crown Glass. Crown glass is the oldest 

kind of window glass, but is now almost replaced 

by sheet glass. This kind of glass is produced 

from melted glass by blowing it into the form of 

a globe, and tin -n the globes are thrown open 

into flat circular plates called tables, by means 

of the operation called flashing. The workman 

takes a metal pipe 6 to 7 ft. long, and, dipping 

it several timen into the melted glass, gathers 

from Hi to 20 Ib. of glass upon the end. By 

- iny the pipe or holding it in a perpendicular 

ion the glass is collected in a lump beyond 

tin- end of the rod. The operator then rolls the 

metal on an iron plate called a marver until it 

i taperiiiL' cylindrical shape, the end 

..ppnsjtr the pipe Ix'intf known as the biilltnn 

H<- then l)| () \vs through the iul)e to 

produ. the >hape shown in th<- third figure of 

the diiiirram. the ula>s l>eing rotated in the 

. i ime 1 7 1. The glass is reheated, and an iron 


cylinder is opened by applying a piece of hot 
glass to soften the end and then blowing. The 
burst edges are trimmed off with a pair of 
shears, and the gathering rod is cracked off by 
applying a cold iron. The top part of the 
cylinder is broken off by putting a hot thread 
of molten glass round, and then applying a 
cold iron, or by first touching the part with a 
semicircular piece of hot iron, and following 
this by a drop of water, when the fracture 
takes the line where the heated iron was 
applied. The cylinder is then, while still hot, 
cut from end to end with a diamond cutter. 
The cylinder is then transferred to the flattening 
furnace, where it is softened by the heat, opened 
out flat, and passed on to the annealing chamber. 
An instrument called a flattener or polissoir is 
used for smoothing the cylinder when it has 
opened. The annealing process lasts three or 
four days. In this process a sheet of glass of 
the ordinary size of 50 by 36 in. is made, but 
larger sheets are made. The standard weights 
of sheet glass range from 15 oz. to 42 oz. per foot. 
When sheet glass is subsequently polished it 
is known as patent plate glass. 


Amateur Critics of Marriage. False Systems. The Oldest Human Institu- 
tion. Its Triumph and its Supreme Importance to the World. The Family 

Group 3 


Continued from 
page 437a 


IT has, unfortunately, become a recent fashion 
for novelists, writers of plays, and other 
men who earn their living by more or less 
imaginative literature, to invade the realms of 
sociology, to pose as authorities upon it, and 
to lay down propositions which the public is 
expected to accept. Nothing could be better 
than that the vital questions of society and 
human life should engage the attention of 
serious people by means of illustrations in 
fiction and on the stage. But grave disaster 
is liable to ensue when men who are unequipped 
for the study of sociology, whether by reading 
or by mental training or by temperament, 
permit themselves to advise the public upon 
matters of the most serious moment. The 
quack doctor of the individual body is an evil ; 
the quack doctor of the body politic is a far 
worse evil. 

A Pestilent Propaganda. Now, it is 
no less a social institution than marriage 
that has lately furnished material for copy 
to a number of contemporary writers. Thus, 
we have the problem play and the problem 
novel. It would be easy to exaggerate the 
harm that these do, for, after all, we do 
not take the theatre or even our fiction very 
seriously and in this we show a rare degree of 
wisdom. But serious harm must ensue when 
men like Mr. Bernard Shaw, Mr. H. G. Wells, 
and even Mr. George Meredith, who have gained 
popularity, or even the homage of the wise, as 
imaginative writers, use the influence thus 
obtained for the purpose of propagating views 
upon social questions which can be described only 
as puerile, superficial, and pestilent. This, of 
course, is strong language. It is, indeed, our 
intention to make this protest against the 
wholly amateur and irresponsible contributions 
of these writers to the subject as strong as 
we can conveniently make it. In certain grave 
social subjects we plainly must be prepared 
with scientific warrant for the doctrines which 
serious and responsible sociologists have for- 
mulated and the truth of which they have 

The Only Authority is Truth. We 
must enter upon our study with no pre- 
possessions in any direction. We may be 
on the side of established religion and estab- 
lished religion is an upholder of marriage. That 
ground is not sufficient for our upholding 
of marriage. We cannot accept any social 
doctrine upon authority. In science there is 
no authority but Truth, and each man must 
find her for himself. On the o>her hand, we 
may be antagonistic to established religion, 
as are, in general, the writers who are now 

criticising marriage. This, however, is no ade- 
quate reason for any prejudice of ours against 
marriage. We must rid ourselves equally of 
theological and anti-theological bias. There 
is some excuse for both in the study of this 
question, according as we look at it from one 
side or another ; but there is no adequate 
excuse for bias in the search for truth, and if 
there were it would not redeem the search from 

Marriage is Older than the Human 
Race. Our only scientific method, evidently, 
is the historical method. What is the origin 
of marriage ; what are its forms in different 
places and different ages ; what are the social 
phenomena with which any particular form is 
constantly found associated ; and what, if any, 
are the social phenomena which the various 
forms of marriage actually cause ? 

In this country we are familiar with marriage 
as a civil institution and as a religious institu- 
tion ; it is regarded here as a civil contract, 
and there as. a divinely ordained sacrament. 
Now, the first fact which we have clearly to 
recognise is that no Church, living or dead, 
is or was the inventor or originator of the 
institution of marriage. This institution is 
definitely older than any existing Church or any 
historical Church ; it is definitely older than 
even the most primitive of all primitive religions ; 
nay, more, it is older than the human race itself. 

This is a fact worth noting on every ground. 
There is some humour in it, too, for it at once 
makes absurd the opposition of many persons 
to marriage, and exposes their ignorance. A 
vast deal of contemporary opposition to marriage 
in this country, and more especially on the 
Continent of Europe, is really engendered by 
opposition to established religion. It is thought 
that any blow struck at marriage is a blow 
struck at the Church, and it is quite definitely 
supposed that, practically, marriage is a product 
of the Church, and cannot very well exist without 

Marriage is Not an Institution of the 
Church. Now, for this absurd error there is con- 
siderable excuse. It is the case that the Church, 
which long ago recognised the importance of mar- 
riage, took this ancient institution under its own 
protecting wing. It is true that the Church has 
sometimes taken upon itself to deny the validity 
and even the reality and decency of any marriage 
that has been made under the control of any 
other body than the Church itself. Here, 
however, we must gain a clear and final recog- 
nition of the historical fact that marriage is 
older than any Church, present or past. How 
far back, then, must we go before we come to 



,!. origin of an institution whirl., however 
,,1,1 it he nnM r-rtainly have had a beginning 
lomehow and someuhen. ? We have no record 
,1,,' nf the ways and doings of man when first 
1,,. mad.- his undistinguished appearance upon 
the earth The most we can do in the way o 
, ( ., U al observation is to study the lowest types 
( ,f man that are now to be found. This vastly 
interesting and important study is now being 
nm-ued on a comparatively large scale and 
only ju<t in time ; for the contact of these rude 
tribes with higher civilisation that is to say,, 
with whisky very soon exterminates them. 
Hnu, -v.-r. we find that marriage is practised 
by man everywhere, even amongst the very 
low, -i races that are now passing their last year 
on the earth. 

The Beginnings of Human Progress. 
Now, one of the most important generalisa- 
tions that have emerged from the modern study 
of the lowest races constitutes a denial of the 
old view that such races very fairly represent 
for our own eyes the earliest remote stages of 
human history. We now believe that the lowest 
race of which any record has been or is now being 
made is very far removed indeed from anything 
like the beginning of human progress. The 
most primitive of primitive races that we know 
has really no claims whatever to primitiveness. 
These races are primitive and low r compared to 
ourselves, certainly. But the more we come to 
know them their customs and traditions and 
languages, their gestures and their magic, and 
their social institutions in general the more 
clearly we recognise the all but obliterated 
M of a long and eventful past at which we 
can now only guess. 

If this be so, then, we may still conceive of 
early stages in the history of humanity stages 
earlier than any represented or hinted at by any 
contemporary savages when marriage was 
unknown. Let us, then, outline as briefly as 
possible the orderly too orderly history of 
marriage which the knowledge of his time 
.-11 1 need for Spencer to write. We shall not 
strictly adhere to Spencer's words or opinions, 
but shall merely state what might be supposed 
be the history of marriage and what is, 
indeed, very commonly supposed to be its 

Forms of Marriage. It used to be 
thought, then, that in the beginning there 
prevailed a state of what is technically called 
promiscuity. The modern term for this is 
"free love" the worst debasement of two 
noble words with which the present writer 
has any acquaintance. Then, after a time, 
a certain amount of order would begin to 
difplay itself. There might, for instance, be, 
as indeed there certainly were, some more or 
less severe restrictions upon this freedom or 
promiscuity. Then, in certain societies where 
f' T some reason there was a scarcity of women, 
there illicit possibly be instituted the form of 
primitive matrimonial institution which is 
railed jnlyanflry literally, the existence of 
many Im-bands. 1'oUandry has certainly been 
a fact in various pirfs of the world at certain 

times. Perhaps the commonest form it has 
taken is where one woman is possessed by 
two or more brothers in common. 

Much more frequent and important is another 
ancient matrimonial form, known as polygamy, 
and familiar to most of us in consequence of its 
revival by the Mormons. It is true of polygamy, 
however, as of all other marriage forms except 
one, that it has played a very much smaller 
part in human life than used to be supposed. 
It may be said that polygamy has never been the 
rule anywhere. It may have been permitted, 
which is a very different thing. Generally 
speaking, among peoples where polygamy has 
been permitted it has been practised only by the 
wealthy few. 

A Theory that Ignores Human 
Nature. In our imaginary history of marriage, 
then, we may suppose that, in course of time, the 
forms we have named, and many others, were 
all superseded among progressive peoples by the 
form which is known as monogamy the union of 
one husband with one wife. During the historic 
period this is the form of marriage that has 
generally obtained the approval of established 
religion, and during the Christian era it has, of 
course, been the only form of legal marriage. 

Now, the modern view is that this supposed 
imaginary history of marriage needs very con- 
siderable revision and a revision all in one 
direction. It is every day being more clearly 
recognised by serious students that the norm, or 
normal type, of marriage is none other than 
monogamy, and that all the other forms of marital 
relation must be regarded as mere local and 
relatively unimportant deviations or aberrations 
from the normal type. It is, further, most 
positively and warrantably believed that in the 
course of the history of man, whether under the 
tropical sun or amid the Polar snows, there never 
was arfy stage of promiscuity. The writers who 
believed in a primitive promiscuity not only had 
no positive evidence in their favour, but were 
running right in the teeth of human nature. 
The key to all human institutions is human 
-nature, and the theory of promiscuity ignored 
the facts of human nature facts so deeply 
rooted in it that they are shared by sub-human 
nature-that is to say, by the lower animals. 
The mere mention of the word jealousy is 
sufficient to make anyone a sceptic so far as 
this theory of promiscuity is concerned. 

The Triumph of the Only True 
Marriage. And as regards the other forms 
of marital relation, we find that their import- 
ance has been greatly exaggerated. The truth, 
indeed, is that in all times and in all places 
the dominant tendency has been towards 
monogamy, and it is monogamy that has played 
the great part for which the word marriage 
stands in the development of humanity. 

We are not concerned for the moment to assert 
any superiority of monogamy, but merely to state 
the historical fact that, superior or inferior, 
natural or unnatural, ecclesiastical or civil in 
origin, monogamy has been the dominant form 
of sex relation in the history of mankind. It may 
be permitted, however, to inquire into the causes 

of this general dominance of monogamy at such 
various times, in such various places, among 
such various peoples. There are certain familiar 
facts which might be expected to militate, and 
do indeed militate, against the dominance of 
monogamy. Of these the most important is 
the known character of the amatory passions in 
man. Thus it is undoubtedly a half-truth, but 
no more, that the human male is naturally a 
polygamous animal. Now, certainly, man, rather 
than woman, in virtue of his superior physical 
strength and endurance, has determined the 
form that marriage has taken ; and thus it might 
almost be supposed that polygamy would have 
become the dominant form of marriage every- 
where, and certainly so wherever the number 
of women considerably exceeded the number of 
men. Now, it is true that the practice of poly- 
gamy is found to have been most extensive 
among purely military peoples of a low order of 
civilisation as, of course, a purely military 
people must necessarily be. In consequence of 
perpetual war, the number of men in such 
communities is disproportionately small, and 
thus is established a state of affairs especially 
advantageous to the practice of polygamy. 

The Secret of the Triumph. But 

the survival of any social institution is not 
to be explained, and is not determined, by the 
wills of individual men. It is determined by the 
needs of the race. Many forms of matrimonial 
or semi-matrimonial institutions may be named, 
besides polygamy, which offer marked attractions 
some to men of one type, some to men of 
another type. But these institutions have 
played no part of any note in the history of man- 
kind, because they did not make for the survival, 
but instead made for the death, of the peoples 
who accepted them. The writer believes that 
the true cause of the dominance and triumph of 
monogamy, as opposed to other marriage forms, 
is to be expressed in terms of the children. 

The current theories of the success of mono- 
gamy will not hold water. There is, for instance, 
the theory that monogamy is a creation of the 
Church, which substituted it for pagan forms of 
sex relation. The valid answer to this theory is 
that monogamy flourished and succeeded long 
prior to any Church. Another theory states that 
the success of monogamy has been determined by 
Nature, which ordains that the numbers of boy 
babies and girl babies are approximately equal 
at all times and places, there thus being one 
member of each sex for each member of the 
other sex. But this theory is not valid, for, in the 
first place, the fact of the average numerical 
equality between men and women might just as 
well be used as an argument in favour of promis- 
cuity ; and, in the second place, man everywhere 
dominates his fellow- man, so that polygamy, 
among those who have power, is always possible. 
Doubtless the natural fact of numerical equality 
between the sexes may be admitted as a condition 
that is admirably consonant with the institution 
of monogamy ; but this fact does not begin to be 
an adequate explanation of the triumph of 
monogamy as against, for instance, promiscuity. 


Marriage and Character. The theory 
of the present writer, to which he will return, 
is that monogamy has triumphed because it 
provides the best conditions for the children, 
produces the best children, who grow up to 
be the best men and women, and who survive 
in the struggle for existence as compared with 
their neighbours who practise polygamy let 
alone polyandry or promiscuity. On super- 
ficial examination it might be thought that in 
the course of the struggle for existence between 
two neighbouring peoples, one practising 
polygamy and another practising monogamy, 
the polygamous peoples would tend to outlive 
their neighbours because of their presumably 
higher birth-rate. Now, doubtless polygamy 
does make for a high birth-rate, but it also 
makes for an infantile mortality compared 
with which our infantile mortality, disgraceful 
though it be, seems almost decent. In this 
instance we see illustrated the general pro 
position of the writer that it is in terms of 
the life and health and character of the children 
that we must express the condition which leads 
to the triumph of monogamy over its rivals. 

The Heresy of Mr. George Meredith. 
The reason, therefore, why we find so scanty 
a record of forms of marriage other than mono- 
gamy in human history is that these forms have 
handicapped the races which adopted them as 
against the monogamous races. On the other 
hand, we hear much of monogamy because it is 
the monogamous races that have made human 

Some special contemporary interest attaches 
to a particular form of matrimonial relation 
which is very expressively termed leasehold 
marriage. Its interest for us depends upon the 
fact that one of the greatest living men of 
letters, Mr. George Meredith, lately gave definite 
form in the pages of the "Daily Mail" (Sept. 
24th, 1904) to the views which, -as readers 
of his novels will know, he has long held. Said 
Mr. Meredith : " Certainly, however, one day these 
present conditions of marriage will be changed. 
Marriage will be allowed for a certain period 
say, ten years." This statement of opinion 
naturally attracted a very great deal of attention 
on both sides of the Atlantic, and also on the 
Continent of Europe. Indeed, it has been 
intimately discussed all over the world during the 
past two years ; and it has found favour in 
many quarters, though it need hardly be said 
that no one with the smallest pretensions to be 
regarded as a sociologist has been found to 
express anything but richly deserved contempt 
for Mr. Meredith's opinions. 

Mr. Meredith's Experiment is Con= 
demned by History. We saw in an earlier 
part of our course that there is one point of 
view from which history may be conceived as a 
series of vast and varied sociological experiments, 
conducted by our forefathers for our benefit. 
We also saw that, if history be read aright, 
certain definite conclusions may be reached, 
these conclusions being strictly scientific generali- 
sations derived by a rigid inductive process of 
reasoning from the experiments of history. 



Here isaca-c in point. There is no need to try 
M, Meredith's proposed experiment, though it 
inuvt lamentably be admitted that the experi- 
ment is lM-ing tried, or something very nearly 
,-,,uivalcnt to it. under the conditions in the 
Tinted States which permit of divorce at the 
pleasure of the contracting parties. But apart 
from this contemporary and disgraceful experi- 
ment, which is alarming the most thoughtful 
and least prejudiced of observers, we can fall 
back upon the experiments of ages long past ; 
we can point to the condition of tribes which 
in modern times practise leasehold marriage 
degraded, degenerate, worthless, and rapidly 
disappearing. But it is not even necessary 
to condemn leasehold marriage by pointing 
to facts of observation and experiment. The 
a priori method of reasoning is quite adequate 
alone to serve for its utter condemnation. 
The sociologist has a criterion by which he is 
enabled to judge of marriage methods. What, 
he asks, will be the consequences for the coming 
race ? 

Marriage and Society. The funda- 
mental character of the sociological point of 
view is that it looks ahead. To the sociologist the 
individual is nothing as an individual, though 
\\e must discuss this from another point of 
view in a subsequent chapter ; he is con- 
cerned with the life of society, which outlives 
many generations of individuals. This it is 
which endows marriage with its supreme im- 
portance for him. He to the psycho- 
logist to inquire as to the comparative worth of 
marriage and other forms of sex relation to the 
individual ; but he must inquire as to its in- 
fluence upon the future life of the society in 
which it occurs. Marriage vindicates itself in 
1 1 is eyes because it furnishes the one perfect 
condition for the young generation whose 
business it is to continue the life of society. 

Thus the sociologist looks with entirely distinct 
interests upon the two kinds of marriages. The 
childless marriage is doubtless of interest to the 
psychologist the student of character ; but 
it matters scarcely anything at all to the socio- 
logist, for it signifies nothing for the future. 
True, it is a social relation, but, so far as he is 
i ned. it amounts to nothing more than that 
u\o persons, who happen to be of opposite 
sexes, live in the same house and arrange their 
finances jointly. It is the appearance of a baby 
that vitally interests the sociologist, for now he 
has to consider not merely a marriage, but a 
marriage leading to the family. In this respect 
he is like Nature. She, also, is " careless of the 
single life," and for tnose who are not parents, 
whether they 1 K > married or unmarried, she cares 
little or nothing. " Her supreme interest," as 
th- present writer has said elsewhere, "is with 
thus.- chosen individuals upon whose characters 
an. I iH-haviour. as upon no other factor in 
the universe, the whole future of the race 


The True Test of Marriage is the 
Family. The fertile marriage is of supreme 
importance to the sociologist because i, |,. a ,| s 
to the establishment of the family. The type 

of the family, historically considered, has varied 
in dependence upon the type of marriage, 
and we may lay down the proposition, as 
sociologists, that" the value of any form of 
marriage may be judged by the quality of 
the type of family which it tends to produce. 
It is this fact, in the present writer's opinion, 
which explains the observed preponderance of 
monogamy in the history of man. Monogamy 
produces the best type of family ; the best type 
of family produces the best type of society; 
and thus the races which have used other forms 
of sex relation in preference to monogamy have 
played no part of moment in history, and have 
left scarcely any records at all behind them. 

As the arrangement of this and the allied 
courses indicates, we are attempting to base 
sociology upon "the solid ground of Nature." 
We can have no more certain warrant for 
any social institution than that we find it 
sanctioned by the facts of biology. Now, 
it is an, extremely noteworthy fact that the 
biological sanctions for marriage are actually 
older than the human race itself. In many of 
the lower animals we find that institution called 
the family a family produced by a monogamic 
union of less or greater permanence. This fact 
of animal marriage is of the utmost interest to 
the sociologist, who builds upon biology. It 
furnishes him with yet another of the many in- 
stances where institutions supposed to have been 
invented by man, by the law, or by the Church, 
are found to have played their part in the evolu- 
tion of life even before the emergence of man. 

The Ideal Family. The ideal family is 
that produced by monogamy. Not very far 
behind it, perhaps, is the type of family produced 
by a qualified polygamy, such, for instance, as 
we observe in the patriarchs of the Bible. 
Relatively to these, and especially to the former, 
all other kinds of marriage stand condemned ; 
and this constitutes the ultimate warrant for 
monogamy. Contemporary practice and ex- 
perience may be quoted in proof of the assertion 
that the monogamic family constitutes the best 
condition of environment for the rising genera- 
tion. The best kinds of family of this type con- 
stitute the realisation of the ideal. We are 
incapable of conceiving anything better. Those 
who advocate " leasehold marriage, with State 
care of the children," or those who advocate the 
"nationalisation of the children," as a general 
principle, may be counselled to consider the 
experience of those whose duty it is to make pro- 
vision for pauper orphans or other children who 
are necessarily thrown upon the State even under 
present arrangements. Many different plans have 
been tried for dealing with such children. These 
range from the most unnatural to the most 
natural. The first description surely applies to 
the herding together in large institutions of 
children all of one sex, and, as far as possible, 
all of one age. This plan is as remote as pos- 
sible from Nature's indications, having nothing 
but (false) economy to recommend it. At the 
other extreme is the boarding out of these 
children under conditions as nearly as possible 
approaching those of the normal family. 

The Supreme Value of True Mar= 
riage to the Race. In general it may be said 
that "the nearer our provision goes towards 
the establishment for those children of condi- 
tions simulating those of the family, the better 

are the results Indeed, what sane 

person will dispute that the best prospect for an 
orphan is afforded when it is adopted by some 
parental-hearted pair who will treat it as if it 
were one of their own children ? " No one who 
has paid the smallest attention to these facts can 
hesitate to admit that the proposals for lease- 
hold marriage and nationalisation of the children 
touch the ultimate bottom for ignorance and 
short-sighted stupidity. The more we study the 
family, and substitutes for the family, the more 
clearly we see that the institution of monogamic 
marriage has the final warrant of Nature. 
Monogamy has survived, not because of the 
injunctions of any Church, but because it has 
supreme " survival value." This it has "partly 
because it implies a due control of male passion 
and a due limitation of female endurance ; 
partly because it promotes the development 
of the higher sentiments and represses the lower ; 
but pre-eminently because it provides for the coming 
race a peerless environment." 

Why Other Systems Fail, Communal, 
or collective marriage, group marriage, lease- 
hold marriage, and " pooling the children," 
have all been the subjects of experiment by 
man in the past. They have all failed, and 
all for the same reason, because they did not 
work. " They had no survival value, and the 
societies which adopted them are no more. 
They had no survival value because they pre- 
vented the formation of the family, upon which 
alone must be founded any human society 
that is to endure." 

Now, it is true that oaks survive and multiply, 
and flourish without the aid of the family. It 
is true also that there are some sub-human 
societies, such as those of the social insects, 
which flourish without any institution that 
really corresponds to our family. It is true 
also that among birds the family lasts for only 
a short period, and birds still flourish, even though 
monogamy, as practised by them, may be an 
extremely brief affair. If leasehold marriage, 
so to speak, be an efficient social institution 
among birds, why not also amongst men ? 

The Key Fact of Marriage. The 
answer is that there is a fundamental difference 
between the early stages of the life-history 
of man and those of the life-history of any 
other animal, not to say plant. If the young 
acorn falls upon good soil, it is quite independent 
of any care on the part of the oak which bore it. 
The young insect may need much care for a short 
period, but very soon it is able to find its own 
living. The young bird must be fed at first 
by its parents, but only a short time need elapse 


before it is able to fly away, and depend for life 
upon its own activities. But the young of the 
human species are different ; they pass through 
an extremely prolonged stage of dependence in 
youth. Not only is this longer than in the case 
of any lower animal, but the degree of depend- 
ence is much greater. It is perhaps the most 
remarkable paradox in the whole of living 
nature that of all young beings the young 
of the dominant animal, the " lord of creation," 
should be the most helpless, and the longest 
helpless. This fact undoubtedly has a great 
meaning, even a greater than the meaning on 
account of which we have here referred to it, 
which is that the family and the due exercise 
of parentage, more or less important in most 
of the lower animals, are of supreme importance 
for man. So long as man retains this character 
that at birth he is utterly helpless, and that for 
many years afterwards he is incapable of fighting 
his own battles so long will the survival value of 
marriage be supreme, and so long will the empire 
of the earth be given to those societies which 
avail themselves of that value. 

Marriage will Survive all Criticism. 
We may speak indignantly of amateur critics of 
marriage at the present day, and our indignation 
is warranted, but if we were able to take a quite 
impartial view, caring nothing for any one society 
rather than another, we should have no need 
to concern ourselves. No institution that 
makes for life is really in danger or in need of 
our assistance. There is a natural automatic 
process which has been at work since the begin- 
ning, and which will continue working to the end : 
it is the process which Darwin called " natural 
selection," and Spencer " the survival of the 
fittest," and it ensures that whatever individual 
character or social institution makes for life 
will survive. Marriage, as we have demonstrated, 
is such an institution, and it will be practised 
upon the earth a hundred thousand years hence. 
Here and there a society may try something else, 
forgetful of the fact that it is not worth while 
to repeat any of the old experiments which have 
already been made ; but the society which 
abandons marriage will simply go under before 
the society which does not. Thus fell the " glory 
that was Rome," and the same cause a decline 
in this 'fundamental morality would assuredly 
tend to the destruction of an empire greater 
still. It is at the heart that empires rot. 

The two chief works upon marriage in the 
English language are excepting, of course, that 
part of Herbert Spencer's " Principle of Socio- 
logy," which deals with the subject Professor 
Westermarck's " History of Human Marriage," 
carrying the investigation onwards from the 
stage where Spencer left it; and, secondly, 
the " History of Matrimonial Institutions," 
by Professor G. E. Howard, of the University 
of Chicago (Fisher Unwin 1904). 



Group 20 





Cutting the Stuff. 

for the Loot factory is a trade by itself, at 
which a man may find useful employment for 
both head and hands. When the leather comes 
from th,- stores into this department, the hides 
ate ranged, trimmed, and rolled. No doubt, 
the mm uho puts the butts and side pieces 
together thought he had done his work pretty 
thoroughly, and so far as leather classing goes, 
he may have done the best possible ; but we 
have something more to ask from the leather. 
The cutters need pieces of such shape and size 
M they can put them into the machines in 
Latches. All the leather to be cut has, there- 
to be sorted. Sorting is not merely a 
case of putting hides of the same size together, 
or getting them trimmed or shaved to requisite 
dimensions. Before starting on that job you 
had better make yourself well acquainted with 
the various tannages and classes of leathers. 
\YrL.-l directions in this matter are useless. is to say, you have to learn the trade by 


xrttom stuff dies [50J and presses ranging in size and power 
from the foot-driven press that cuts lilts or 
side pieces to the heavier presses that stamp 

wv the strongest soles. Revolution presses do 
not demand that the leather be ranged ; but it 
can be cut up in whole sides or butts [51]. If we 
are to get the best results from these mechanical 
cutters, the leather must be of such uniformity 
as will enable us to go ahead without stopping 
to adjust and alter to suit variations in size 
and grade of leather. The edge of each knife 
blade is exactly the shape of the piece of leather 
to be made. Look along the edges of a sole 
knife, and you see that the shape is a sole, and 
so with all the others. Fix the leather under 
the press, lay on the knife, and put the driving 
belt into action. In a moment there is a crunch, 
and the soles are cut. 

In principle all the die-cutting machines are 
the same ; after having learned to work one, 
it is easy to take up the others. One thing must 
be constantly borne in mind those machines 
need the assistance of the 
operator ; they are not 
automatic, and to work 
them a man must give his 
whole attention to what he 
is doing. A leather -cutter 
is a skilled workman, though 
not always rewarded as such. 
Insoles and Welts. 
An insole comes from the 
cutting-room a plain piece 
of leather shaped to the sole 
of the last ; but it could 
50 KNIVES FOR (TUN.. HOTTOM STUFF (B. U. Shoe Machine Co., Leicester) hardly be sewn in that form, 

even by hand. The edge ot 

pr ictical experience, step by step. Having put 
th- hides of each class together, we range them 

m the cutting machines, which may be either 
guillotine <u horizontal, according to the class 
<.f It-it her \\ith which we are dealing. 

Rolling. When the hides and pieces come 

from the ranger, they are square -sided. But 

\\e do not hand them over to the cutters yet. 

i. as it conies from the tanner, is not 

if the <-lo<e film- we nerd for boot-making. 
To stiffen and close it, we pass the leather, 

u-it MIL', through a pair of heavy rollers. 
Frnm the pressure of the rolls the stuff comes 
out cl'-ar iind firm. 

Cutting Soles. Tin- different kinds of 
le-ither are nou distributed among the various 

utters, l.ijiht tl-ink piece* <_ r o to the cutters 
of stitTeniir_ r ^. >houldi-rs to the insole cutters. 
Lutts of m-.ided sorts to the sole cutters, and 

pi of he-i\v le-ither- to the heel lift makers. 
N'ou be Lenetit of the ranging. For 

<t I ioot we have ,i -pe.'ial set of cutting 


the insole which lies under the top is pared away, 
leaving a corner into which the sewing holds ; 
this is technically called the lip. Forming a lip 
is a delicate operation ; but our mechanics have 
got over it. One of the best is the " Goodyear" 
channelling machine, the cutting parts of which 
are a slanting circular blade working on a flat disc. 
Lay the insole on the disc, and the knife cuts 
round, forming a clean lip in a very short time. 

Cutting Welts. Welts in the factory are 
long continuous strips of split leather. The 
short strips of leather have been cut from 
the hides, and now we run them through the 
welt-splitter, which levels them neatly with 
wedge-shaped sides. The ends of the parts are 
neatly spliced and joined with cement to form 
a continuous ribbon of the length required for 
the machines. They are also cut with an in- 
genious tool e.-vlled a welt-stripper from shoulders 
dressed specially for the purpose. 

Lasting. Our materials are now shaped, 
and \ve assemble them, to begin making up. 

The uppers, the lasts, the insoles, are here, and 
now begins that arduous and difficult operation, 
the lasting. Up till the end of the nineteenth 
century, hand lasting [53] was carried on in the 
best equipped factories ; it made a gap in the 
mechanical organisation of the factory ; the 
hand laster could paralyse the greatest factory 
in the world. 

Machine Lasting. Between about 1898 
and 1903 no fewer than six efficient machines 
were placed on the market, and improvements 
have been constantly going on since. The 
method of the bsst of these machines [52] is an 
imitation of the hand lasting action. Last and 
insole are inserted into the upper, so as to 
hold easy, and then put into the mechanical 
laster. Presented to the machine in a slanting 
position, with the insole uppermost, so that 
we can see exactly what is being done, the 
top is gripped by a pair of power-worked 
pincers that pull it upwards, drawing it tightly 
on to the last. The pincers are adjustable, so 
as to work upon any size of upper. Wipers 
now come into operation and lay the upper 
close to the insole, and five tacks are driven 
in simultaneously to make the work secure. 
This operation of putting-over, as we name it, 
is begun and completed in fifteen seconds. 


w a hide is cut up with little waste 


Series of Lasters. Among the other 
lasting machines there is' a series with which 
the worker should be acquainted, the set grading 
in degrees of complexity. Taking the common 
laster first, we find it to be a rather complex 
mechanism, though not difficult to work, the 
parts being strong and automatic. Our second 
machine [52] has a twist motion that brings the 
top on all sides close up to the feather of the 
insole, and a slanted tack-driving arrangement 
that drives in the tack and fastens the upper. 

Joining Insole, Welt, and Top. We 
are ready to begin what has been described as 
the " impossible '* mechanical operations of the 
boot factory. Handicraft bootmakers used to 
ask, How was it possible for a machine to put a 
thread through welt, upper, and insole all at 
once ? convinced that it could not be done. But 
the machinists of the boot factory offer us a 
choice of machines for the purpose, each one 
advertised as capable of doing perfect work. One 
thing helps another, at Arkwright is reported 
to have said when he organised the cotton fac- 
tory. The mechanical lasters are designed to 
make the work of the sewing machines easy. The 
springs and levers of even the least complex of 
these machines are so numerous as to render 
description unintelligible even to the worker. 
Yet the action is perfectly 
harmonious. Set the boot in 
place, and see how the work 
goes on. Through welt and 
upper and insole the stitches 
are made by the cunningly- 
devised mechanism, [54], and 
as each stitch is made the boot 
moves forward the length of 
the stitch [27]. 

On this machine is a ball of 
white thread, and at the side 
is a coil of welt. When the 
boot is placed on the flange : 
under the needle, the thread 
comes through a bath of wax 
kept constantly at melting 
point by the steam heater, 
and at the same time the welt 
uncoils to the boot. Both are 
manipulated by the needle, 
which draws the thread 
through welt, insole, and 
upper, and firmly binds them 

Preparing for the Out= 
sole. As we have taken it 
from the welt-sewing machine, 
the boot would hardly make 
a good foundation for the 
outsole. The seams are rough, 
and between the surrounding 
welt and the insole there is a 
hollow space. 

Filling. Very light boots 
are packed with felt soles 
thinly covered with cement ; 
but for strong boots the pack- 
ing is scraps of fine leather, 
graded to the thickness of the 

welt. For this purpose we have a small 
-having machine, in which a boy put> Lit- 
of leather, and brings them out neat packing 
At hi> >ide is a -mall self -heat ing vessel 
full of melted rubber solution, and with the 
liru-h attaclu-d he sticks the insoles and put-> 
in the pieces of packing. 

Levelling. When the solution is dry, we 
take the boots to the inseatn leveller, which 
trim> the weh and lays the seams at the same 
time. Like the rest of our machines, the seam 
trimmer is very complex in the mechanism and 

v \MH\I: <r.. r. - Machine Co., Leicester) 

"''I'l'- > operation. All we need to do is 
" hold the hoot in th- jaw of the machine and 
m it thn.l, round the MUM, >mc..,thin each 
' :ti I' down .1- it goes along. 

Soling. The Ixmt BOtel ai.- passed on to 
I 1 "' l 'l'"*>- I'air by pan th,- pieces of 

I leather are f,,l j n ,, n the top of the foot- 

moulding blocks, and over them comes down 
the matrix, to lift again, and let out a pair of 
finely-modelled soles. 

Cementing. Sole-laying is our next im- 
portant work ; but before that can be done we 
have a choice to make. The question now is 
whether the soles are to be pegged on for sewing 
or cemented. . The best and most satisfactory is 
the cementing, and for this we have a fine ma- 
chine. Within a jacketed pan, heated according 
to the general system of the factory, rubber- 
solution is kept soft, and within the pan revolves 
a round brush. Over this brush the soles are fed. 
and it smears the flesh or inner side with the 

Sole=laying. We have to be smart now, 
for the rubber cement dries quickly. At the side 
is the turret sole layer. There are several, but 
we can work only one. Fixed on a revolving plat- 
form, this little tower of mechanism holds six 
iron soles lined with pads of soft rubber, and 
on the platform under each movable holders 
that let in the lasted boots and hold them tight. 
With one hand take the clasping levers, and with 
the other set hi the boot with the sole on it. 
Now fix the grips on toe and last, and the top 
pads of rubber, come down to make the whole 
fast in a firm grip. The turret moves round, and 
offers another station for your boot ; you repeat 
the operation. When the six stations have been 
filled, the boot first fixed comes round ready to 
be taken off y and its place is filled with another 
boot. You can lay a thousand soles per day 
with this machine. There are other sole-laying 
machines equally serviceable. Another inter- 
esting model has a vertically revolving motion, 
with four stations. As the machine slowly goes 
round, the station at the top automatically re- 
laxes, the action of turning clamping the laying 
press down on the newly inserted boot. The 
variety of sole-laying machines is considerable, 
and the effort of machinists is to render them 
as gentle and firm and automatic as possible. 
The maximum capacity, so far as we have seen, 
of the best of these machines is about 1,200 
per day of actual working. 

Sole Rounding and Channelling. 
Sewn soles are channelled to hide and protect the 
stitching. Channellers are called upon to work 
any variety of machines. Some are merely little 
knives held in the grip of a motor, with a stand 
for the boot ; others are more complex and aim 
at rounding the sole while making the channel ; 
but none is difficult to understand. The chief 
thing to watch in these machines is the adjust- 
ment, A thin sole will not stand the depth of 
channel that a heavy sole requires. 

Stitching. The soles are now stitched to 
ihe welt by a machine which is called the 
' rapid stitcher" [55], the boot being laid to the 
machine without removing from the last. 

BlaKe Sewers. Boots are often made 
without a welt by sewing with a " Blake," already 
described. This machine is still in general use. 
No- boot factory sewer can afford to be in ignor- 
ance of the working of this machine. On the 
head of a tall standard the complicated mechan- 
ism is set. while from the platform in front 

53. Lasting by hand 54. Sewing in a welt on the Goodyear welting machine 55. Working the Goodyear rapid stitcher 
56. Bottoming, or levelling the sole to shape of the last 57. Attaching the heel by heeling machine 58. Trimming the 

sole edge by machine 




protrude^ a horn. Over this horn the sewer puts 
the hoot, and needle and thread make stitch after 
-titch. piercinu through sole and insole, making 
., ti, lr BOMB m a channel cut in the sole by a 
sole-channelling machine as though it were only 

thin doth that was b.-inii >ewil. 

Pegging. The sewn boot is still the favour- 
ite : but. curiously enough, the first machine- 
made boots were pegged in the soles. It may be 
admitted that 
the early boot- 
makers by 
machiii'-iy did 

not under- 

- t a nd the 
I'.ritMi eli- 
niiite. and in- 
troduced a 
kind of pegg- 
ing .-iiit'-donly 
to a d' 
equable cli- 
mate, or a 
po p u 1 a t i o n 
that never 
walked in the 
\\et without 
indiarubber overshoes. By pegging we mean 
that the soles are secured to the uppers by small 
pegs. Stitches may seem to grip firmer, but 
threads cannot last as long as wood or brass. 
Nothing daunted by their first failure, the 
inventors of the* pegging machines have worked 
v. and now have produced many contrivances 
\\ Inch make really good work. We hardly think 
the pegged sole will ever displace the sewn one 
in this country ; but a trade of some dimensions 
has sprung 'up. The idea which revolution- 
i-ed the pegged trade was the substitution of a 
-en-\\ rivet for the ordinary peg. The pegging 
machine most familiar to us resembles in general 
ippe nance a kind of "Blake" sewing machine. 
On the horn in front the boot is set, but instead 
of the M'-edle u screwing punch containing a 
>crew tapped wire comes down and drives the peg 
through welt and sole, automatically cutting off 
and rivet inu' what is practically a wood nail in 
the boot. Swift and etVective. the action is re- 
peated automatically. Spacing between the pegs 
e by the ma hine, and the intervals may be 
made as small or as wide as the operator desires. 
Heeling. Hand-working bootmakers build 
the heel on the boot, lift by lift ; but in the 
factory the heel-builder is 'a specialist. The 
wid- variety of heels Mr arc called upon to make 
has rend-. red thi- inevitable. Square heels. 
"Hind he,. |s. pe-Mnp | lr e|s. low and hi^h. broad 
MM narrow, the \.niations nm through 

the whole range of Boea and classes. If any 
speed \\ . re t o be a 1 1 a ined in t his department. 
some method of simplification was bound to 
"I'l"- end ww gained by making the 

'iidthen fa^tcnini: them to the 
boot. We admit that these heels havenot 
'ingot' the hand-built heels ; but the 
difference is Mn;i ll and cannot be helped. g,) 

ror the highest class oi hoot>\\e make split 

M-. and produce ; , |,,.,.| equal in i-verv <[ 

r.i i 

respect to the best hand-made ; the consumer, 
therefore, lias it in his own hands he can get 
the article if he will pay the price. 

Building the Heel. The bottom course, 
or foundation of the heel, is called the seat. 
This is made level with the sole and usually 
comes off the same hide. Next is the bottom 
lift, also solid. The two lifts above may be 
split with inside packing, in the approved hand- 
made way. The lifts are cemented together by 
a solution of rubber or other paste, and built on 
ingenious machines, the most common models 
of which resemble miniature hydraulic presses 
in construction and principle. 

Putting on the Heel. Heels are attached 
to boots by various machines [57], the greater 
number by merely riveting presses, which 
clench the wire nails left protruding from the 
heel-seat into the sole and insole. A machine 
much favoured by manufacturers of heavy boots 
works on a peculiar plan. Into a disc the nails 
are fed head downwards ; heel and boot are 
placed together in position ; the press comes 
down and the hammer comes up, driving the 
nails into the boot and heel. The top pieces of 
the heel are nailed by a special machine [61] that 
drives the " nails " regularly and at a very rapid 

Sole=levelling. When we get the boot 
from the making-up department, the channelling 
of the sewn seams gapes and the sole may not 
lie quite flat. Obviously, if you can pass a roller 
firmly enough, and yet yielding to the proper 
shape of the boot, 
over the sole, it will 
be levelled. On this 
idea the best level- 
ling machines [53] 
are constructed. 
The rollers are hung 
on spring attach- 
ments ; alterna- 
tively, the stand of 
the boot is spring- 
seated, and the 
rollers move firmly 
over the soles. 

Finishing the 
Boot. Heeled and 
soled, the boot has 
been built together ; 
but it must not 
yet pass out of our 
hands, for it is a 
rough production. 
Most factories do 
not class the de- 
partments as we 
do ; they make 
some of those 
I -workers whom we 
consider finishers 
f work in the soling 
and heeling de- 
^^^mmHIHHB^ part ments. This 

>MITII" HEEL-TRiM.MiM. matters little; but 
MACHINE a more rigid method 

U. Sliop Machine Co., Leicester) of division, such 

as we propose, would help all parties. When the 
sole-sewers and heel-fixers have put the boot 
together, the work of that department of the 
factory is done. The rest belongs to the finishers. 
It seems ridiculous that sole-levelling should be 
included in soling while edge -trimming belongs 
to the finishing division. 

HeeUtrimming. Though finely cut to 
shape when laid on the boot, the heel has 
margins which can be dispensed with only after 
it has been seated on the boot [60]. The front, or 
breast, of the heel has been left rough for shaping 
to the level of the shank. Breasting is very hard 
work, and needs a sharp, strong knife. Over a 
dozen kinds of breasting machines are regularly 
employed, but the best are very simple. A 
knife the shape of the breast required is fixed 
on the head, of a press ; the boot is set in the 
stand, and the knife shears down, cutting a clean 

To give our heel a solid appearance, we take 
it to the scouring machine, and on flat sand- 
paper, running on spindles, the heel is smoothed 
to a fine level. 

Edge=trlmming. Like the heel, the sole 
has been left with rough edges, and for trimming 
these we have the machine cutters. Here the 
special character of bootmaking machinery comes 
out strongly. The edge-trimming machines are 
nothing more than mechanically-driven knives 
1 59], shaped to suit. Instead of the flat blades we 
use by hand, the cutters are grooved blocks 
of steel, cast in a wheel and fixed on a spindle. 
Against the revolving cutters the boot is held 
[58], and a fine edge is the result. 

Buffing. In most trades, buffing implies 
polishing ; but with us the meaning is the 
opposite. The object of buffing is to take off the 
old surface of the leather of sole and heel, and 
prepare it for receiving a new surface. But we 




use buffing wheels, like other workers, the 
difference being that, while wood and steel are 
smoothed by the rough surface, the leather is made 
rough. On the rims of the wheels bands of 
coarse emery are fixed. By applying the sole 
and heel to the running wheel [62], we scour off the 
surface of the leather in a regular manner. One 
thing has to be specially watched, and that is 
the work of the emery on the sides of the soles, 
or the edges so carefully cut will be 
ground down. Simple as it looks, buffing 
can not be learned in a moment. 
Nothing can obliterate the streaking and 
scudding of defective buffing. Dust flies 
from the buffing wheel at a great rate. 
To keep the air of the workshop clean 
and preserve the health of the operator, 
the wheels are hooded over with covers, 
through which attached fans suck the 
leather dust into closed receptacles. 

Sandpapering. Similar in con- 
struction, the sandpapering machines 
begin to build smoothness on the rough 
work of the emery buffing wheels. The 
rollers are made to resemble in feel and 
elasticity the human fingers, being 
composed of felted material under the 

Blacking, Edge=setting, and 
Polishing. In this division the skill of 
the workman counts for more than the 
speed and structure of the machines. 
So long as the present fashion of boots 
maintains its hold on the popular taste, 
no other system, it seems to us, is 
possible. The routine of the hand- 
working bootmaker is preserved. First, 



I hi- hoi iron-- a iv run over the edges 

of tin- M>!<> |63|. tin- bark of the heel, 

;iii'l tin- >kiviiitf of the waist or shank ; 

the l.l.-H-Uiiuz or ink is brushed on; 

I setting irons run round 

and o\vi. making the dark places shim- 

like mirror- : and then, withgrras.- and 

Marking, brushes and cloths, the whole 

boot is made beautiful. 

\\V work with machine tools in the 
factory; that is the sole difference 
between the ancient and the modern 
practice. Where the bootmaker heats 
his irons at a gas jet, we have the gas 
stove, or patent ring ; we fix the irons 
in a machine and hold up the work, 
ii!>t-:ul of grasping the handle of the 
iron> in our hands and leaning down 
to give pressure on the polisher. For 
the little ink- brush we have the patent 
circular brush, and for the cleaning 
cloth a pneumatic felt pad. One great 
and important difference remains, and 
it explains why machinery has been 
adopted for hand labour in this, the 
delicate touching-up of our work. In 
ten minutes, without stress, we can 
turn out as much work as a boot- 
maker, working hard, could do in two 

Tying. When finished, the boots 
pass in pairs on to the tying machine, 
which, with one stitch in each, links 
them together. Then they pass into 
the treeing department [64], By the 
treeing device we have been enabled to 
dispense with the last during the 
finishing processes. Formed of several 
pieces, the tree goes into the boot, and 
is screwed up to the size of the last, shaping 



the boot again, and fixing it in the proper form. 
The boot has been mads ready for the 
wearer ; who that may be cannot be 
guessed, but we have done our best to 
give a good boot. 

Technical Trade Teaching. 

With all its limitations, the bootmaking 
machine factory produces good work, 
and handicraft can never again obtain a 
strong hold on the boot market. It is 
satisfactory, therefore, to find our tech- ' 
nical schools in London, Leicester, Leeds 
and Glasgow teaching machine boot- 
making instead of confining their efforts 
to imparting a craft which has sunk into a 
subsidiary though artistic branch of the 
industry. Handicraft bootmaking is 
the foundation of the trade, and, as such, 
should be taught, but knowledge of 
machinery is indispensable to the work- 
man of the present day. 

Many of the photographic illustrations 
in these articles were taken in the 
factories of the Trueform Boot Company 
of Northampton and London. 

BOOTS AND SHOES concluded ; 

ffilloirtd hi/ 



Sewage Outfalls. River Pollution and Purification. 
Utilisation of Sewage. Different Systems of Treatment 

Group 11 




Continued from page -Her, 


VY/E now consider the question of the disposal 

of the sewage from a town. This must 

be effected without causing a nuisance by 

polluting the air, the water of a river," or the sea. 

If the town be situated near the sea or *a tidal 
river, there is a natural tendency to assume that 
the sewage can be got rid of by discharging it 
there. Before this can be safely done, it is 
essential to take careful float observations [see 
page 1016], to ascertain whether, under every 
condition of tide, the sewage will be carried away 
without causing a nuisance by polluting the 
foreshore, either near the outfall or elsewhere. 

In determining what standard of effluent 
should be required at any sewage outfall, each 
case must be considered with reference to its 
own special conditions. To insist on a perfectly 
pure effluent would, in most cases, be unreason- 
able. In past years it was unattainable, but is 
now possible, as was the case at Maidenhead, by 
electrozone, a sterilising fluid produced by passing 
a current of electricity through saline solutions. 

Management of Outfalls. Another 
matter deserves mention, and that is in reference 
to the management of sewage outfalls. Even 
supposing the most suitable system has been 
carried out, the anticipated results may not be 
attained owing to the want of care or intelli- 
gence in managing the outfall. 

In some places where it has been found 
necessary to discharge the sewage only at certain 
tides, to ensure fluid filth being carried away at 
ebb tides and not returned at the following 
flood tides, storage chambers have been made 
at the outfall to retain the sewage until the 
proper time for its discharge has arrived, when, 
by raising a sluice, either by hand or automati- 
cally, the stored sewage is let out from the 
chamber. This arrangement is liable to failure 
in the event of heavy rainfall following a period 
of dry weather, when the sewers are flushed and 
the quantity arriving at the outfall is more than 
can be retained there until the right time for 
its discharge into the sea or estuary. In cases 
where such an outfall sewer receives storm water 
the storage chamber may be a very costly work. 
An alternative method of dealing with this 
temporary excess is to lift it by centrifugal 
pumps the few feet necessary to discharge it 
above the top of the tide when there is a coinci- 
dence of a high tide and a heavy rainfall. Such 
an arrangement, however, requires to be worked 
almost automatically, as the coincidence may 
happen only once a year, and then in the middle 
of the night. Anyone desiring to follow this 
matter further can study two recent cases of 
pollution which were decided in the Courts. 
One is " Lord Gifford v. Chichester Corporation," 
where the action was based on the pollution of 

the air and foreshore in an estuary. The other 
is "Foster v. the Warblington Urban District 
Council," where the plaintiff's oyster-beds were 
polluted by the discharge of sewage near them 
and his oyster trade interfered with. Both the 
cases were decided against the authorities 
responsible for the sewage outfalls, and they will 
serve as a precedent for future reference. 

River Pollution. The Rivers Pollution 
Prevention Act, 1876, was passed to meet the 
well-founded demand for such legislation as 
would prevent the injury and pollution of rivers 
by the discharge into them of refuse, putrid solid 
matter, or other waste or noxious or polluting 
liquid or solid sewage matter. The Act deals with 
the evils under three heads : (1) solid matters ; 
(2) sewage pollution ; (3) manufacturing and 
mining pollution. The prohibition as to putting 
solid matters into rivers is absolute. The prohi- 
bition as to the discharge of sewage or poisonous 
noxious polluting liquids from manufactories or 
mines into rivers is accompanied by the proviso 
that no offence shall be deemed to have been com- 
mitted where the fluid is conveyed by a channel 
used, constructed, or in process of construction 
at the passing of the Act, if the best practicable 
and available (or reasonably available) means 
has been used to render harmless the sewage 
matter or polluting liquids. In 1893 the fol- 
lowing important amendment was enacted in 
explanation of Section 3 of the Act : 

''Where any sewage matter falls or flows or is 
carried into any stream after passing through or 
along a channel which is vested in a sanitary autho- 
rity, the sanitary authority shall, for the purposes 
of Section 3 of the Rivers Pollution Prevention 
Act, 1876, be deemed knowingly to permit the 
sewage matter so to fall, flow, or be carried." 

The result of legislation to protect our rivers 
is not very satisfactory. 

Self=purification of Rivers. While 
referring to the avoidance of river pollution 
by discharging foul matters into it, we 
may mention that there may be cases where 
slight pollution may be tolerated owing to the 
amount of matter discharged and the point 
where it reaches the river, together with the 
relation between the volumes of both, preventing 
appreciable injury. It was once thought that 
" a river once polluted remained always pol- 
luted." Those who have to advise about 
sewage disposal recognise that a river can be 
self-cleansing within certain limits. The number 
of minute organisms and plants which are found 
in a river are instrumental in destroying organic 
impurities and afford under the microscope a 
means of determining the character of the water. 
These organisms are found to multiply and thrive 
in a sewage-polluted stream to an extent enor- 
mously greater than they would in the same 



stivam if unpolluted, although tliev rxist in 
in -h water. They may be said to act as scaven- 
gers ; but. if tke amount of impurity be too 
great, the organisms are, it is thought, less able 
, it tliis beneficial action. Minute plants 
also help, by giving off oxygen when exposed to 
the light, and thus assist to oxygenate the 

Liquid Refuse from Manufactories. 
The admission of liquid manufacturing refuse 
into sewers has often increased the difficulties 
attending the treatment of sewage at outfalls, 
I ut it is to be anticipated that these facilities 
will !>e very much curtailed. The local authority 
may refuse to allow trade effluents to enter 
sewers on any of the following grounds : (1) that 
thev would injure the sewer; ,(2) that they 
would prejudicially affect the disposal of the 
sewage ; (3) that their volume is too great for 
the capacity of the sewers ; and (4) that their 
admission to the sewer would interfere with 
some order of a Court of competent jurisdiction. 

The admission of trade wastes to sewers in 
large quantities causes difficulty in treating 
the sewage at the outfall, especially when the 
waste is not admitted at regular intervals 
coinciding with the varying volumes of sewage, 
and when undesirable solids are not removed. 
If the conditions as to the admission of the waste 
be observed, there is no trouble in dealing with 
it, when it is associated with sewage in reasonable 
quantities, as the sewage sets up the necessary 
putrefactive ehange if the waste is either acid 
or alkaline, unless in excess, when it should 
be neutralised before admission to the sewer. 
The Sewage Commission are of opinion " that the 
law should be altered so as to make it the duty 
of the local authority to provide such sewers as 
are necessary to carry trade effluents as well as 
domestic sewage, and that the manufacturer 
should be given the right, subject to the ob- 
servance of certain safeguards, to discharge trade 
effluents into the sewers of the local authority, 
' if hi; wishes to do so.' " 

Tidal Waters. The requirements of the 
Public Health Act with reference to the purifica- 
tion of foul fluids before then* discharge into 
rivers, etc., has not been considered as applying 
io tidal waters, and the Rivers Pollution Act 
has only very rarely been put into force. Inasmuch 
as it is illi-gal under the common law to pollute 
the air, or the rainfall after it reaches the earth, 
it is equally illegal to cause a nuisance by 
polluting the tidal water of an estuary, or the 
foreshores adjoining, as the Courts have held 
in the eases to which we have referred. 

Compulsory Provisions. The further 
powers now conferred on county councils, joint 
eoiiuiiittees. ;U id river boards' will lead to a 
dOMC >< i ut in v of rivers and streams, and to the 
detection and abatement of pollutions. 

In in-ranging srwagr disposal works it must 
lie home in mind that the Local Government 
Hoard at the present time require provision 
to l>e made for dealing with the dry weather 
flow, and a further live volumes, or -o.\ 
volume- altogether. If the town l.e drained on 
the combined system, three volumes must be 

treated as sewage proper, and the further three 
volumes has to be disposed of on specially- 
prepared filters or on land. If the town be drained 
on the separate system, two volumes must be 
treated as sewage proper, and the further four 
volumes has to be disposed of on filters or 

Quality of Sewage. The quantity of 
sewage delivered to an outfall has been regarded 
too much as the governing factor, without 
reference to the quality. The facts which are 
now available with respect to the results of 
treating sewage by bacterial action will no 
doubt be productive of elasticity in the Local 
Government Board's requirements, and will 
entail a more intelligent consideration, based 
upon detailed expert information of the con- 
dition of the sewage of the town in question. 
At present too little attention has been devoted 
to this, resulting in the enforcement or adoption 
of unnecessarily costly works at sewage outfalls. 
After the sewage arrives at the outfall it is 
passed through a chamber in which is arrested 
floating substances such as corks, paper, and 
the like, which must not be allowed to pass to 
disposal works of any kind. 

Irrigation. If suitable land be available 
near a town, and the sewage can be conveyed 
to it without any engineering difficulties, its 
utilisation for agricultural purposes is possible. 

Sewage farming has too frequently been re- 
garded only from an agricultural point of view, 
whereas it must be treated as a combination of 
both sanitary and agricultural interests. These 
two, however, can be successfully combined only 
where a sufficient area of suitable land is acquired 
to enable the crops cultivated on it to receive 
the sewage only when they want it, at the same 
time that the sewage is purified on other areas 
when it is not wanted by crops. When this 
cannot be accomplished, the agricultural part 
of the matter must be disregarded, and the 
filtration and purification of the sewage as a 
sanitary necessity should be alone kept in view. 

It is now clearly established that the changes 
that have to take place in sewage to effect purifi- 
cation, or that are necessary to enable the 
manurial ingredients in it to be best adapted to 
the requirements of plant life, are due to the 
nitrifying action of micro-organisms. Where the 
land under treatment is open and pervious, 
the most solid part of sewage, as well as 
the dissolved and finely suspended organic 
matters, admit of being liquefied in the 
interstices of the soil, and of being converted 
into .the harmless nitrates and nitrites which 
are so beneficial to plant life. Where the 
land is impervious this can be only partially 
effected, and in such cases the liquefaction of 
the solids by bacteriological influences has to be 
brought about by methods that are described 
elsewhere, so that the fluid that is applied to 
the land is both free from what would clog 
the pores, and is at the same time highly charged 
with the nitrates and nitrites which are available 
for vegetation. If they are not required by 
the crops they are in a form that can pass away 
without causing pollution or miisance. 

Land for Sewage Purification. The 

most unsuitable soils for sewage purification 
are stiff, tenacious clays, peaty or boggy land, 
and certain conditions of coarse, gravelly soils, 
which contain hard conglomerate layers often 
very dense and impervious. Clay lands can 
be rendered more fitted for filtration by preparing 
specially the surface to some depth by ploughing 
or digging in ashes or other materials. 

The land must be prepared so that it will 
absorb the sewage uniformly over its surface, 
without flooding or overflowing. This can be 
done by laying out the area in slopes according 
to the contour of the surface, and according 
to the nature of the soil. 

After the sewage is delivered on to the land at 
the outfall it is distributed by main carriers, 
either of earthenware or concrete, or of bricks 
in cement. These are placed in contour, and are 
regulated by sluices and stops so as to command 
the area to be irrigated, the sewage being dis- 
tributed over the surface by carriers made in 
the ground. Any pipe carriers underground 
which convey the sewage from one point to 
another should be kept low enough to prevent 
disturbance when the surface is being manipu- 
lated either with the plough or otherwise. 

Systems of Sewage Distribution. 
There are several methods for distributing 
sewage over the surface of land. 

In the ridge and furrow system the land is 
prepared in beds with ridges about 40 ft. apart, 
having slopes of about 20 ft. on each side with 
an inclination, according to the ground, of from 


A . Water level B. Overflow channel C. Worm gear E. Screw- 
down valve F. Sludge sight-box G. Sludge pipe to well 

or lagoon 

J. Squeegee for cleaning 

II. Sludge exit pipe 

wall K. Centre sewage inlet L. Patent adjustable spreader 

M. Perforated revolving sludge pipe with hood and scraper 

N. Pivot O. Hood P. Concrete 

1 in 50 to 1 in 150, or even more if the ground 
be very impervious. The ridges have dis- 
tributing channels formed so that the sewage 
flows over "them down the slope of the plot or 
field to the furrow in a uniform layer or film, 
and any which is not absorbed passes to a lower 

The catchwater system is used more for very 
sidelong and irregular ground. A carrier is laid 
to command the area to be treated, and the 
sewage overflows from it at any part by tem- 
porarily stopping up the carrier. It then passes 


to a lower level, where a catehwater gutter, made 
to the contour of the land, passes it over a still 
lower part of the area. Main carriers vary in 
size, but are generally about 1 ft. to 2 ft. wide, 
and about 6 in. to 10 in. deep. The fall should 
be about 1 in 500 or 1 in 600. 

Crops for Sewage. Italian rye-grass is 
one of the best crops for sewage, as its capacity 
for absorption is enormous, and it occupies 
the soil so as to choke down weeds, which are 
a source of trouble and expense on sewaged 
land. Osiers are very useful plants to absorb 
the organic impurities in sewage. 

There are other plants which are capable of 
absorbing organic impurities, such as duckweed, 
sedges, common reed, flowering rush, white 
and yellow lilies, frogbit, water ranunculus, 
liverwort, sunflower, and watercress. 

Precipitation. Where land cannot be 
obtained for the disposal of sewage by broad 
irrigation, one way of dealing with it is by 
chemical precipitation, that is, by adding to 
the sewage chemicals which have a deodorising 
and precipitating effect, so that on a small 
area of land the foul fluid from the outfall sewer 
can be converted into an inodorous effluent. 
Many years ago this was thought to be the 
solution of the sewage difficulty, but the bacterial 
treatment of sewage (which will be referred to 
later) has afforded an alternative method. 

Where a considerable part of the rainfall is 
received into the sewerage system, provision 
should be made for a tank capacity of at least 
50 per cent, of the average daily dry weather 
flow, which will give a workable margin for 
contingencies. Several small tanks are better 
than a few very large ones, as there is less risk 
of difficulties arising when the tanks have to 
be. stopped for cleaning out or for repairs. 

In England, shallow tanks, having a depth 
of about 4 ft. to 5 ft. at one end and about 6 ft. 
at the other, are generally used. The bottom 
should have a fall towards the inlet end, to 
which the sludge can be swept with facility. 
The tank is emptied by means of a floating 
arm which falls on drawing off the supernatant 
water and insures its being taken from the 
upper layer of fluid in the tank. A valve con- 
trols this drawing off, so that as soon as there is 
any appearance of floating matter in the water 
being let off the valve is closed and the sludge 

Candy's System. A recent arrangement 
*of tank [36] by Mr. Frank Candy deserves 
mention. The bottom of the tank is made 
flat, and in the centre is pivoted a horizontal 
perforated pipe which reaches to the side of the 
tank. This is pivoted on another pipe, which is 
carried up to within a foot or two of the full 
water-level of the tank, and at that point the 
sludge is discharged without pumping. The 
pivoted pipe is revolved by hand from the 
outside of the tank when it is being cleaned. 
The perforations in the pipe being on the under 
side of it, and only a few inches apart, and the 
pipe itself being but a little above the bottom 
of the tank enough to clear it the rotation 
of the pipe covers the bottom, and the sludge 



is draun IT >ucked away from the whole of 

rod actuated by compressed air or steam, so 
that, as the piston rod drew the crosshead for- 
ward, it was followed by the whole string of discs. 
Sludge Treatment. The sludge, before 

* 1 1 

,h, Btrfeoe, 'I'll'- pressure .f water m tlu- lank 
- the sludge through the connecting pipe 
anil to a higher level, whence the sludge 

into the tank, and when 

is thicker than the sludge usually drawn from 
other precipitation tanks. The removal of the 
sludge by this arrangement does not interfere with 

the tit. w' of the M-wa.iT 

the tank i> >tarled 
it- working is con- 
tinuous. The usual 
prccipitants that are 
or have been em- 
ployed are lime, sul- 
phate of alumina, 
protosulphate of iron 
(copperas), alum, sul- 
phate of iron, ferro- 

Lime being a 
cheaper precipitant 
than sulphate of 
alumina and other 
chemicals, it may 
seem that its use 
necessarily produces 
economic results. 
This is. however, 
not always the case, 
as any saving in 
the purchase of the 
clicnper precipitant 
may be more than 
(ou nter balanced in 
dealing with the large volume of sludge produced. 

The sludge that is the result of precipitation 
has to be got rid of, after the tanks are cleared of 
it. and if it can be dug into some waste land the 
\pt-iise of putting up and operating what are 
known as sludge presses will be avoided. 

Sludge. Sewage sludge is usually converted 
into a portable material in filter presses [37], 
made by Johnson & Co., Manlove, Alliott & Co., 
and others. The principle of construction consists 
generally of a series of circular or square iron 
. the faces of which are grooved and recessed, 
and are covered with a filter cloth. The plates 
-lidi- on guides, and when they are close together 
they form a nearly cylindrical mass of discs, with 
hollow spaces between them into which the w r et 
sludge is forced, generally by compressed air. 
The fluid passes through the filtering material 
to the grooved surfaces of the plates, whence it is 
conveyed by holes at the bottom of the inner 
part of the plate to the outside of the press. 
The H.I ids an- retained in the space between the 
from which they are removed by sliding 
the plates away from each other on the guides 
by hand. The writer, some years ago, devised 
a plan for rapidly opening- presses of this kind 
by eonnert ing the >.-rics of discs together with 
link- and attaching the whole to a crosshcad. 
Thi- \\as drawn along the guide-, cither by a 
knuckle-joint lever worked by hand or by apiston 

exhausting the 

sludges a little lime is added for the purpose of 
assisting the water to filter through the cloths. 
The sludge is generally forced from this receiver 
into the interstices of the discs of the filter 

37. 8. H. JOHNSON & CO.'S SLUDGE PRESSES (Pneumatic system) 

presses by compressed ak at from 60 Ib. to 
100 Ib. per inch which, being turned into the 
receiver, displaces the sludge. It is sometimes 
pumped direct from the sludge pits without a 
receiver. The cost of converting fluid sludge 
into this pressed cake is from 2s. to 2s. 6d. 
per ton of cake containing about 50 per cent, 
of moisture, in which state it represents approxi- 
mately one-fifth of its original bulk. 

Sludge consists of about 90 parts of water to 
10 parts of solid. As it dries its weight dimin- 
ishes, and the following simple rule defines this : 

Let X = weight of sludge to be ascertained ; 
S = weight of solids in the sludge (which is 

constant) ; 

P = percentage of moisture in the sludge. 
Then _ S x 100 

100 -F 

For instance, to ascertain what weight 25 
tons of sludge containing 90 per cent, of mois- 
ture would be reduced to when it is dried to 15 
per cent, of moisture : ^ 

Twenty-five tons of sludge with 90 per cent, 
of moisture contains 2 '5 tons of solids (which 
is constant) ; therefore, applying the formula, 

X - 2-94 tons. 

Detailed descriptions of various sewage dis- 
posal works are <,'iven in the writer's book on 
" Sewerage and Sewage Disposal." 
( 'on tinned 



James I. and Charles I. Gowrie Conspiracy and Gunpowder Plot. The 
Civil War. Hampden and Cromwell. The King's Trial and Execution 

Group 15 



w ] 

r E must now return for a time to the history 
of our own country, which we have followed 
up to the end of Elizabeth's reign. 

Queen Elizabeth was succeeded by James, 
the only son of Mary Queen of Scots and 
.Darnley. But James succeeded not as the son 
of the Queen of Scots, but as the great-great- 
grandson of the English Princess Margaret, wife 
of James IV. James I. of England and VI. of 
Scotland had received much of his education from 
George Buchanan, the celebrated Scotch scholar, 
writer, and reformer. James remained in a 
guardianship which became a sort of imprison- 
ment because of his extreme youth and the 
ambition of those who had charge of him to 
govern according to their own ideas ; but in 1578 
the Regency was taken from the Earl of Morton, 
and James became at least, nominally King 
of Scotland. 

; He had many quarrels with the clergy and 
the nobles dining his reign, and showed a strong 
dislike both for the Presbyterians and for the 
Catholics. He seemed, for a time, determined 
to restore Episcopacy to Scotland, and did 
indeed establish bishops there. In 1585 he 
made a treaty with Queen Elizabeth, and he 
co-operated with the English against the Spanish 
Armada. In 1589 he married the Protestant 
Princess Anne of Denmark, thus allying himself 
with the Protestant Powers. 

The Gowrie Conspiracy. In 1600 
occurred the famous Gowrie conspiracy, the story 
of which is that the young King was hunting in 
Falkland Park on August 5th, when Alexander 
Ruthvin, brother of the Earl of Gowrie, met 
him, and induced James, who was always in 
need of money, to go to Gowrie House by telling 
him that a Jesuit, with a large sum of money, 
was a prisoner there. When James arrived he 
found only an armed retainer of the earl, and 
no Jesuit. Ruthvin then tried to kill James 
in revenge for the execution of the Earl of 
Gowrie, Ruthvin's father, in 1584. But the 
King managed to call to his aid Sir John Ramsay, 
who stabbed Ruthvin twice, and he and his 
brother, the Earl of Gowrie, were afterwards killed 
by two other followers of the King. This story, 
however, was, and still is, much disputed. Some 
said at the time that James, wishing to get rid of 
the Ruthvins, had arranged the whole affair ; but 
it seems certain that there was a conspiracy among 
them to carry off or kill the King. It was said, 
also, that Queen Elizabeth was privy to the plot. 

When James came to the throne of England, 
in 1603, he was well received by the people in 
general, but he soon made himself disliked. 
Mr. Green says: "No Sovereign could have 
jarred against the conception of an English 

ruler, which had grown up under the Tudors, 
more utterly . . . His big head, his slobber- 
ing tongue, his quilted clothes, his goggle eyes, 
stood out in as grotesque a contrast .... as 
his gabble and rhodomontade, his want of per- 
sonal dignity, his coarse buffoonery, his drunken- 
ness, his pedantry, his contemptible cowardice ;" 
but " under this ridiculous exterior was to be 
found a man of much natural ability, with a con- 
siderable fund of shrewdness, mother wit, and 
ready repartee." 

He had much literary ambition, and wrote 
various essays and tracts, one being the famous 
" Counterblast to Tobacco," a treatise published 
in 1604, and intended to discourage the practice of 
smoking, then recently introduced into England. 

Gunpowder Plot. James was always 
under the influence of some favourite, the 
best known being the Duke of Buckingham. 
On them he lavished titles, offices, peerages, 
and emoluments of every kind, while to 
relieve his own immediate wants he degraded 
the prerogative of the Crown by the actual 
sale of titles to rich and ambitious men. In 
1604 the abortive Gunpowder Plot was devised, 
its object being to spring a mine under the 
Houses of Parliament on a day when the King 
would be present in the House of Lords, and 
when the Commons also would be assembled, 
and thus to annihilate the King, Lords, and 
Commons at one fell swoop. The plot was 
devised by Robert Catesby, a Catholic of good 
family and fortune, who had been fined and im- 
prisoned for his faith. Several other men of 
high family were undoubtedly concerned in the 
plot, which was discovered in time by an anony- 
mous letter written to Lord Mounteagle. A 
search was made, and Guy Fawkes was dis- 
covered in some vaults under the House 01 
Lords, which had apparently been hired for 
some supposed, and not unlawful purpose, and 
in which the mine had been prepared to explode 
at a given signal. Catesby and some others fled 
on the discovery of the plot and sought refuge, 
but were pursued by soldiers and killed. Guy 
Fawkes and some others were executed in the 
January of the following year. 

" The Wisest Fool in Christendom." 
The reign of James was made up of continual 
struggles against his Parliaments, and against 
the principles of the Reformation. Ho was an 
advocate of the Divine Right of Kings, and 
though he often spoke and wrote in favour of con- 
stitutional liberty, he was in practice an opponent 
of all such theories. Sully, the great French 
statesman, soldier, and author, called James 
"the wisest fool in Christendom." Macaulay, 
in one of his flashing epigrams, describes him 



as " made up of two men a witty, well-read 
scholar. \vho wrote, disputed, and harangued, 

tirr\i>iis, drivelling idiot who acted." 
met died on March -J7th. 1<>2.~>. His reign 
in almost eveiy sense, unfortunate for his 
country as well as for himself, and the utmost 
an do is to excuse him because of his bring- 
ing up, because of the unsuitable position to 
\\hii-h his elevation to the throne brought him, 
; .ii,| bei uise of the fatal weaknesses of his 
int. -ileei and character. He might have had 
a meiitnrious career if he had never been caKed 
to a throne. 

Charles I, His son, Charles I., was born 
in Scotland on November 19th, 1600. In his 
childhood and early boyhood he was delicate. 
however, he soon outgrew, and became 
not only proficient in all physical exercises, 
I >ut a scholar of much distinction. He became 
Prince of Wales in 1616, and negotiations 
were soon in progress for his marriage with a 
Spanish princess, and it was for this reason 
that Charles, under the influence of his father's 
favourite and his own, the Duke of Buckingham, 
made his romantic expedition to Madrid in the 
disguise of an ordinary traveller to see for 
himself whether the princess was likely to prove 
to his taste. He found that the Spanish Court 
and the Papal Government would never allow 
a Spanish princess to become the wife of any but 
a Catholic, and Charles would not accept these 
conditions. We may assume that devotion to 
IIN own faith was the main cause of this resolve. 

< 'harles came back to England filled with 
bitter resentment against Spain. The English 
people gave him a generous welcome when 
he returned, on account of his devotion to the 
principles of the Reformation. But the public 
sentiment was soon changed by the news of his 
betrothal to the French Princess, Henrietta 
Maria, sister of Louis XIII. of France, and the 
discovery that the marriage articles made it an 
obligation on h : m to allow his intended Queen 
t he free exercise of her religion and the care of any 
children of the marriage until each had reached the 
age of thirteen. The marriage, which was carried 
our MM in after his a"ccssion to the throne, was a 
happy one. But Charles became, as years went 
on, more and more dependent on the counsels 
and the influence of his wife. 

The Duke of Buckingham. He had 
1. 1 -en fora long time under the influence of the 
'>;ike of Buckingham, but Buckingham made so 
ma MV mi-takes in home and foreign policy that he 
became intolerable to the English people, and in 
V.iyu>t ii:inl, K1-2.S. he was assassinated at Ports- 
mouth by John Felton. a dismissed officer. This 
act was partly one of fanaticism and partly of 
private vengeance. 

After the death of Buckingham, Charles was 
'h.'ii ever under the influence of the Queen 
in hi- public policy, and, mainly under her direc- 
tion. In- tried to make himself absolute ruler of 
lll(l v D when in the conditions of the 

times some course he proposed to take might in 
i-tili'-l. he made the mistake of en- 
deav urine to <-arry it by his o\\n decision 
instead of through tin- authority of Parliament. 


During the first lour years of his reign three 
Parliaments were summoned and dissolved. 

The Petition of Right. In the last of 
these, that of 1628, Cha,rles was compelled, after 
a long struggle, to assent to the famous Petition 
of Right, demanding four things: "(1) That 
no freeman should be obliged to give any 
gift, loan, benevolence, or tax without common 
consent by Act of Parliament. (2) That no 
freeman should be imprisoned contrary to the 
laws of the land. (3) That soldiers and sailors 
should not be billeted in private houses. (4) That 
commissions to punish soldiers and sailors by 
martial law should be revoked, and no more 
issued." To this, Charles at first replied eva- 
sively, but was in the end compelled to assent. 
Then followed an interval of eleven years, during 
which he summoned no Parliament, but ruled 
according to his own authority, supported by 
subservient Ministers, judges, and courts of law. 

His greatest difficulty was to get sufficient 
money to maintain his Court and his policy. He 
allowed himself to be drawn into some futile 
quarrels with France and Spain, which ended 
in a patched-up peace, but cost him a consider- 
able amount of money, and from which he tried to 
retrieve himself by increased taxation at home. 

One of these taxes was that of Ship Money, 
which imposed on various cities and counties 
of England the obligation of providing funds 
to maintain a certain number of ships and 
men. It was an old tax which had been levied 
to maintain a navy to oppose the Danes, and 
had passed out of use for many generations. 
Charles revived it on his own authority, and the 
Court of the North and the Star Chamber fined 
and imprisoned those who resisted demands the 
legality of which was doubtful, although Charles 
obtained in 1635 from ten of the judges the 
opinion that the tax was lawful. It was met with 
a determined resistance by John Hampden, a 
distinguished patriot, whose trial for refusing to 
pay the tax began in 1637. 

Beginning of the Civil War. At the 
same time that this tax made the King 
unpopular he was pursuing an ecclesiastical 
policy which was contrary to the feelings of the 
people in general, and his attempt to impose an 
English Church Service on the Scotch Presby- 
terians led to risings in that country. The 
attempted arrest of the five members of Parlia- 
ment Hollis, Hazlerig, Hampden, Pym and 
Strode on an accusation of high treason, 
in January, 1642, combined with these other 
causes to bring about a rebellion. [See FRONTIS- 
PIECE, Part 31.] Charles left London to prepare 
for war, and on August 22nd he raised the 
Royal Standard in Nottingham, and thus 
the great Civil War began. Charles led his 
army in person, and showed, great courage 
with some military skill. But he had set the 
great mass of the people against him by his auto- 
cratic conduct ; and soon there came into the field 
against him Oliver Cromwell, the man who was 
destined to be his mrst formidable antagonist. 

( YoMnvell, like Hampden. had sat in the House 
of Commons, and, although he had no gift of 
eloquence and never became a Parliamentary 

orator, his opposition -was powerful. But his 
real gifts came out when he entered the army 
and fought as captain of a troop of horse at 
Edgehill and in other battles. 

Cromwell's Ironsides. Then it was 
that he organised his famous Ironside troops, 
whom he taught to combine rigid discipline 
and resistless military force with strict personal 
morality and with political enthusiasm. At the 
battle of Marston Moor, near York, on July 2nd, 
1644, he opposed Prince Rupert, who com- 
manded the right wing of the Royalist army, 
himself a brilliant and reckless cavalry leader. 
Cromwell, at the head of the army trained and 
disciplined by himself, won a complete victory 
over his opponent, and from this defeat the cause 
of Charles never really recovered. The battle of 
Naseby (June 14th, 1645), in which Charles him- 
self took part, ended in the hopeless destruction 
of his army and his cause, and in less than a year 
he surrendered to the Scottish army at Newark, 
and by them was handed over to Parliament. 
He was imprisoned for a time, but escaped ; 
was again made captive, shut up in Carisbrooke 
Castle in the Isle of Wight, and finally brought 
to trial at Westminster. 

Charles behaved then, as at many other periods 
of his eventful reign, with dignity and courage. 
Three times he refused to plead, declaring that 
the Court had no authority or capacity to try 
him. But such a declaration was futile before a 
court that had been created for the distinct 
purpose of his condemnation. He was in the 
hands of his enemies, whom he had made such by 
his arbitrary conduct; but it must have been 
evident to everybody that no pleading, and no 
defence which he could have made, would in any 
case have affected the decision of his judges. 

A Great Declaration in Parliament. 
Behind the Court, and all the civil authorities, was 
the army which had fought against and conquered 
him. The House of Commons, where there was 
still a majority of members, in favour of Charles, 
had been put through a process ever since 
knowTi as " Pride's Purge." Colonel Pride, 
with a list of names in his hand, prevented 
those known to be in favour of the king from 
entering the House, and imprisoned any who 
resisted him. One hundred and forty members 
were forcibly expelled, and it was then that 
the resolution was passed to bring Charles to 
trial, and to nominate the Court. The House 
of Commons, thus newly constructed, passed a 
resolution " That the people are, under God, 
the original of all just power ; that the Commons 
of England in Parliament assembled being 
chosen by, and representing, the people 
have the supreme power in this nation ; and 
that whatsoever is enacted and declared for 
law by the Commons in Parliament assembled 
has the force of a law, and all people of this 
nation are concluded therebye, although the 
consent and concurrence of the King or House 
of Peers be not had thereunto." 

This declaration foreshadowed the coming of 
that Commonwealth which was for a time to set 
aside the monarchy. But it was not a Parlia- 


mentary declaration in the true sense, and only 
came from a House of Commons reduced by 
force to the necessity of adopting it. The power 
behind the tribunal which tried Charles was 
not that of Parliament, but of the army. 
Charles had committed actions which no Parlia- 
ment and people worthy of freedom could pos- 
sibly endure ; but the declaration exacted from 
the House of Commons was in its meaning a 
demand for the foundation of a republic, and 
the demand was, for the time, soon to be satisfied. 

The Trial and the End. Charles faced 
his judges with calm and dignified courage. 
It was one of the finer qualities of his 
nature that upon a really great occasion 
he was able to shake off the hesitancy and 
vacillation which he so often showed in the 
ordinary business of life ; and when he stood 
before the tribunal constituted to pronounce 
his sentence of death he presented as picturesque 
and dignified a figure as the art of the painter or 
the sculptor could have reproduced. Although 
Charles had denied the competence of the Court 
and had refused to plead, the trial lasted for 
several days, and numbers of witnesses were 
examined to prove the truth of the charges made 
against him. Charles was found guilty and was 
sentenced to death as a tyrant, traitor, murderer, 
and enemy of his country. On January 30th, 
1649, he ascended the scaffold which had 
been erected at Whitehall, and was awaited 
there by two masked executioners. He bore 
himself with stately and superb composure, 
and one stroke of the axe brought his death. 
On February 7th, 1649, he was carried to his 
grave hi Henry VIII. 's vault at Windsor. 

The King's Mistakes. The whole story 
of Charles's reign was a struggle between the 
principle of absolute monarchy and the principle 
of republican government. Charles committed 
many errors as a ruler and as a man, but he was 
not a worse sovereign than many of his pre- 
decessors who were never brought to trial. He 
had miscalculated his own pow r er when he asserted 
himself the master of his Parliaments, while he did 
nothing to conciliate the great mass of his people. 
He turned against him an army which a more 
judicious despot might have found means to 
hold for ever on his side. He had the 
will but not the capacity to be an absolute 
despot. He allowed himself to be ruled by 
favourites ; but where the policy of the 
favourite failed, as in the case of Straff ord, he 
had not the nerve to stand by him to the last. 
Charles sacrificed Stratford who, whatever his 
faults, was at least devoted to his Royal master 
to his fears of a popular rising. He turned 
Churchmen and Dissenters against him ; he made 
Scotland and Ireland hostile to his rule ; he failed 
to appreciate the genius, popularity, and the 
rising power of Cromwell, and brought upon 
himself the ruin which he might have diverted 
by displaying a spirit of fairness and of justice. 

He left six children behind him, two of whom, 
Charles and James, were destined to succeed 
him when the Commonwealth of Cromwell 
had passed out of existence. 



Group 16 


continued from page 4455 


The Polariscope and How to Use it. Making and Refining: Glucose 
or Starch Sugar. Testing. Plant Required. Commerce of Sugar 

~THK diief analytical operations required deal 
with the density of juices and syrups, the 
amount of sugar in a given sample of sugar, the 
proportion of glucose, the moisture, the soluble 
and insoluble ash, and the rendement. 

Density. Density is conveniently taken by 
means of an instrument known as a hydrometer, 
the method in which a specific gravity bottle is 
employed being too lengthy for general use. The 
two hydrometers in ordinary use are the Baume 
and the Brix, or Balling. The latter is preferred, 
as the graduations of the scale give close approxi- 
mations to the percentage of total solids present ; 
10 Brix, for example, in a clean juice indicates 
10 per cent, of sugar. The hydrometer is a long 
glass bulb with a slender spindle so weighted 
with mercury at the lower end that it main- 
tains the upright position when immersed in a 
liquid. The spindle is graduated and the 
instrument sinks or rises in the liquid in relation 
to the density; the point at which the liquid 
cuts the spindle being read off on the scale indi- 
cates the degree. 

Principles of the Polariscope. The 
amount of sugar in raw sugar is determined 
I'V the jxtlariscope, the degree of polarisation 
being the basis upon which sugar is bought 
and Customs duty levied. A ray of light 
is capable of being reflected or 
refracted in any direction ; but 
if a ray of light be placed under 
such conditions as will restrict 
it< vibrations to one particular 

direction it is said to be polarised, IN THE *OLARISOOPB 
There are several ways by which light can 
be polarised ; in the instrument with which 
we are dealing the method adopted is that 
of double refraction. There are certain sub- 
-t.inces Iceland spar, for example which have 
the power of splitting up a ray of light into 
t \\ o others of equal intensity, the phenomena 
being known as double refraction. [See PHYSICS.] 
In acry-tal of l< eland spar the line connecting the 
points at which the three obtuse angles meet 
is the principal axis ; if a ray of be passed 
through the crystal parallel to this axis, it is not 
split up : if. however, the position of the crystal 
bo altered, the cm< TL'ingray is found to be divided 
into t wo. The degree of separation depends upon 
nult- through which the crystal has been 
tinned ; \\licn this angle amounts to a right 
anglr. the >e|,aiation is at its greatest, and if the 
crvM.d l,e .still further turned through another 
- 1 "' 1 ' ' they coincide 1 26|. For polarimetic 


i.l-ei vation-. only one of the rays is used, the 

other one being tlirmvn complet'ely out of the 

tield of vieu l.y means of a dfaftoT* arimt. This 

is a ery.vtjil of Iceland spar the terminal face- ,,t' 

which are cut obliquely >o as to give the new 

in inclination of V,s . The whole crystal 


is then divided into two at right angles to the 
new faces, and the faces are then polished and 
cemented together with Canada balsam. 

Polariser and Analyser. In examining 
a polarised ray it is necessary to make use of 
a second Nicol's prism, placed in such a position 
that its optical axis is in a line with that of the 
first. The two prisms are then termed the 
polariser and the analyser. If an ordinary 
ray of light be passed through the polariser 
and then through the analyser, it is refracted 
in the direction of an extraordinary ray, and 
emerges from the analyser in that condition. 
If the plane of polarisation or analyser be so 
adjusted that it is at right angles to the plane 
of the polariser, no light will leave the analyser, 
because the ray, after passing through the polar- 
iser and entering the analyser, takes the direc- 
tion of the ordinary ray, which is absorbed in 
the case of the prism. If the analyser be 
rotated to the extent of 180, the same thing 
happens ; at intermediate positions the field of 
vision becomes more or less illuminated. 

If a ray of light be passed through a plate of 
quartz (cut at right angles to the axis of the 
crystal) it is separated into two rays, which pro- 
ceed in opposite circular directions ; such a ray 
is said to be circularly polarised, and is designated 
right-handed or left-handed, as the 
case may be. If a plate of quartz 
be displaced between two Nicol's 
prisms when their planes of polarisa- 
tion are at right angles to each 
other, a red light is seen ; the 
angle through which it is necessary to rotate 
the analyser to make the field again non- 
luminous is termed the angle of rotation. 
Of the several types of polariscope the half 
shadow instrument is the one preferred. The 
principal feature of this type is the division of 
the circular field of vision into two halves. 
When the vernier is placed at zero the two halves 
of the field are uniform in shade. If an obser- 
vation tube be filled with an optically active 
liquid such as a solution of sugar and placed 
between the polariser and analyser, the equili- 
brium is destroyed, the result being that one 
half of the field becomes dark and the other 
half bright ; the analyser is then turned to the 
right of the right half beshaded, or to the left 
of the left half beshaded, until the field is once 
more of a uniform shade ; the rotation is then 
read from the scale. 

Schmidt and Haensch's Polariscope. 
The form of polariscope or saccharimeter in 
use in the British Customs Department and 
the I'n i ted States Internal Revenue Bureau' 
is that of Schmidt and Haensch, Berlin. This 
instrument is adapted for use with white light 
illumination from coal gas. It is convenient 

and easy to read, requiring no delicate dis- 
crimination of colours by the observer. It is 
adjusted to the Ventzke scale, which may be 
defined as " such that the degree of the scale 
is one-hundredth part of the rotation produced 
in the plane of polarisation of white light in a 
column 200 mm. long ; by a standard solution 
of chemically pure sucrose at 17 '5 C., the 
standard length of sucrose in distilled water 
being such as to contain at 17'5 C. in 100 Mohr's 
c.c. 26'048 grammes of sucrose." The instrument 
should be adjusted by means of control quartz 
plates, three different plates being used for com- 
parative adjustments, reading approximately 
100, 90, and 80 degrees on the scale, respectively. 

A Description of the Polariscope. 
The illustration [27] shows the latest form of 
this polariscope. The tube B contains the illu- 
minating system of lenses ; the polarising prism 
is at P, and the analysing prism at G. F carries 
a small telescope through which the field of 
the instrument is 
viewed, and just 
above is the read- 
ing tube M, which 
is provided with a 
mirror and magni- 
fying lens for read- 
ing the scale. The 
tube containing the 
sugar solution is 
marked R. To use 
the instrument the 
operator seats him- 
self with his eye 
level with the tube 
F, which tube is 
moved in and out 
until the proper 
focus is secured so 

as to give a clearly defined image, w T hen the field 
of the instrument will appear as a red luminous 
disc, divided into two halves by a vertical line 
passing through the centre, and darker on one 
half of the disc than on the other. If, now, the 
milled head A be rotated first one way and then 
the other, the appearance of the field changes, 
and at a certain point the dark half becomes 
light and the light half dark. By rotating 
the milled head delicately backwards and for- 
wards over this point, the exact position when 
the field is neutral or of the same intensity of 
light in both halves can be found. When the 
milled head is set at the point which gives the 
appearance of the centre disc in figure the 
eye of the observer is raised to the reading tube 
M and the position on the scale noted. On each 
side of the zero line of the vernier a space 
corresponding to nine divisions of the movable 
scale is divided into ten equal paits enabling 
fractional parts of a degree to be indicated. 

Method of Manipulation. Begin by 
weighing out 26 '048 grammes of sugar, dissolving 
it, clarifying the solution, making it up to 
standard volume (100 c.c.), and filtering and 
filling the observation tube, regulating the 
illumination and making the polariscope reading. 
The sugar is conveniently weighed in a counter- 



poised nickel or German silver flask with a large 
lip, whence it is readily washed into the flask. 
The solution, before being filled up to the ir ark, 
is clarified by the addition of lead subacetate 
or phospho-tungstic acid until no further 
precipitate takes place. Filtration and clarifi- 
cation may often be made easier by adding a 
few drops of suspended aluminic hydrate after 
the lead. The flask is filled with pure water 
until the lower line of the meniscus coincides 
with the mark on the neck. The mouth of the 
flask is closed and its contents well shaken 
and poured on to a folded filter ; the first few 
cubic centimetres of the filtrate are rejected. 
The subsequent filtrate, if not perfectly clear, 
is returned to the filter until it shows no cloudi- 
ness. The polariscope tube is then filled and 
placed in the polariscope, the scale of which, 
after neutralising the rotation produced by 
the sugar by turning the analytical prism of 
moving the quartz wedge, will give the percent - 
age of sucrose in 
the sample taken. 
A dark solution may 
either be read in a 
100 mm. tube or 
decolorised by bone 
black. A weak solu- 
tion may" be read in 
a longer tube. 

Estimation of 
Glucose. The 
reagent required for 
estimating reducing 
sugar is known as 
Fehling's solution. 
Take 34 '64 grammes 
of pure crystallised 
sulphate of copper, 
and dissolve it in 

200 c.c. of distilled water. Also take 187 
grammes of tartrate of soda and potash and 78 
grammes of caustic soda, and dissolve in 500 c.c. 
of distilled water. Add the copper solution to 
the second solution, and make up to 1,000 c.c. 
with distilled water. The copper in 10 c.c. 
of this solution is completely reduced by 
0'05 gramme of glucose, which is shown by 
the blue copper "solution turning red and 
throwing down a precipitate of red copper 
oxide. To make the estimation, place 10 c.c. of 
the Fehling solution in a flask over a Bunsen 
burner, and make it boil. Then from a graduated 
tube (burette) run in a few cubic centimetres 
of the sugar solution, again boil, and note if any 
blue colour remain in the liquid. If there be 
still some blue liquid over the red precipitate, 
run in more sugar solution until all the blue 
colour has disappeared. From the number of 
cubic centimetres of sugar solution required, 
the amount of glucose is determined by calcu- 
lation. The best results are obtained when not 
less than 10 c.c. or more than 50 c.c. of sugar 
solution are needed for 100 c.c. of Fehling 
solution, and after making a rough estimation 
the strength of the solution is adjusted to 
conform with these requirements. The strength 
of the copper solution can be checked or 



Urdised l>y comparing it with a solution 
of pure invert sugar, prepared by heating cane 
sugar solution, \\ith ;i few drops of sulphuric 
acid to invert it. 

Moisture. Weigh from two to five grammes 
of the sugar into a Hat-bottomed nickel or plati- 
num dish, and dry at a temperature of 100 C. for 
three 1 jo iii-s. Cool in a desiccator and weigh ; 
return to the oven and dry for an hour. If, on 
iiing. there be only a slight change in weight, 
the process may be considered finished ; other - 
w i.-e the drying must be continued until the 
loss of water in one hour is not greater than 
' 0-20 per cent. From the quantity of loss of 
weight of the sample taken the amount of 
moisture or water is calculated. 

Ash. Take five or ten grammes of sugar in a 
platinum dish, heat at 100 C. until the water is 
expelled, to allow the action to take place 
slowly, and finally heat in a muffle to low redness. 
Then, by weighing the ash that is left, the per- 
centage of ash in the sample is obtained. The 
quantity of soluble ash is estimated by digesting 
the ash with water filtering through a Gooch 
crucible, washing with hot water, drying the 
residue at 100 C., and weighing. The difference 
in weight from the above determination equals 
the soluble ash. 

Rendement. Rendement is the French term 
for the net amount of sugar in a given sample of 
raw sugar. It is deduced from the fact that each 
1 per cent, of ash in the raw sugar prevents 
5 per cent, of sugar from crystallising, and each 
1 per cent, of glucose causes an equal amount of 
sugar to be retained in the molasses. Hence, 
from the amount of sucrose shown by the 
polarimeter deduct five times the weight of ash 
plus the weight of the glucose present, and the 
refining value, or rendement, is obtained. For 
instance, a sample of sugar polarised 93 per cent., 
the glucose was 2 per cent, and the ash 1 per 
cent,, 93 - (1 x 5 + 2) = 86 per cent, of 
available sugar. 

Sugar of MilK. The source of sugar of 
milk is the \\hey from cheese factories or the 
-kirn milk from creameries. As separated from 
milk, it is a white crystalline mass which appears 
in mimcrce in thick stieks. Switzerland for 
many years controlled the milk sugar industry 
and supplied the markets of the world, although 
small quantities were maie in other countries 
for example. ( Jermany. Between 1880 and 1890 
the manufacture uas taken up in the United 
States, and the industry grew so that by lS!r> 
some milk sugar was exported to Great Britain 
and Germany. Enormous quantises are now 
made, one factory in Illinois turning out 16 to 
18 barrels (r lb. each) a day. The Swiss proeex 
of manufactutv on a large scale is to evaporate 
60,000 I it iv, ot uhi-y to dryness, a residue of 
about i/jr,o kil..~ i, ( .j M g obtained. This is dis- 

>olved m Wat, -i at ;.-, C. in ; , copprr pan. -1 kilo 
to I kilo of ..him added, the solution filtered 
through animal eharcoal. boiled down to a svrup. 
.md allowed to crystallise ( . ()| . ( l s or sticks. 
It i> purified b\ iccryst.illiHn- and repeated 
pr,-( ipltation by alcohol. The best grades 
Bed in fund and phaniia.-v. The mi-tlmd- 


of evaporating the whey vary from open boiling 
pans to expensive vacuum boilers such as are 
used in cane sugar making. Filter presses like 
those described in the article dealing with beet 
sugar making are also employed. 

That maker whose process of making milk 
powder consists in allowing milk to trickle on 
huge metal drums heated from the interior pre- 
pares milk sugar from it by simple solution in 
water. The casein of the milk, which is the other 
chief constituent of milk, is rendered insoluble 
by the heat, and is left behind when using water 
for extracting the sugar. 

Ramage's method consists in evaporating 
slightly alkaline whey to half its bulk, adding an 
acid to remove the casein, and then, after further 
concentrating, precipitating the milk sugar by 
adding methyl alcohol. 

In Kennedy's process the milk is concentrated 
to between 11 and 27 Baume, and the product 
chilled to 32 F. until the sugar crystallises. 
The crystals are removed by submitting the 
liquid to centrifugal action, and washing with 
cold alkaline water. 

Glucose, or Starch Sugar. Enormous 
quantities of glucose are manufactured and 
used in the manufacture of confectionery, jams, 
beer, golden syrup, and for other purposes in the 
industries. Allegations have been made as to 
the wholesomeness of glucose as an addition to 
articles of food. 'The matter was investigated by 
the National Academy of Sciences at Washington, 
and the committee of chemists who examined the 
conditions of the industry reported that, provided 
no objectionable substance were used in the 
manufacture of glucose, the product was quite 
wholesome and unobjectionable. It Avas the use 
of sulphuric acid contaminated with arsenic 
for converting starch into glucose that caused 
the remarkable "arsenic in beer" scare of 1904. 
The use of glucose as a preservative of jams, in 
the sense that it prevents the crystallisation of 
the cane sugar, seems a legitimate use of the 
substance, but it should not be forgotten that, 
as glucose is cheaper than cane sugar, it is not 
inconceivable that cases may arise in which an 
illegitimate profit may result, to the prejudice of 
the consumer. 

The starch used is extracted from maize, 
potato starch, sago and rice starch, and is con- 
verted into glucose by heating it under pressure 
with weak acid. This process being complete 
the acid is neutralised, and the product filtered 
and evaporated in a similar manner to that 
employed in refining sugar. 

Manbre's Process. In Manbre's process 
place in a converter 56 lb. of sulphuric acid 
of a density of 66 Baume, add 560 gallons 
of water, and heat to 212 F. Into a wooden 
vat provided with steam pipe and stirring 
apparatus place 560 gallons of water and 
56 lb. of sulphuric acid, heat to 85 F., and 
add one ton of starch. Mix well, and raise 
the heat to 100 F. ; then pour the diluted 
starch into the converter containing the boil- 
ing diluted sulphuric acid and blow in steam 
to raise the temperature to 320 F., equivalent 
to a pressure of six atmospheres. When this 

temperature is attained, open the cock of the 
distilling pipe and let the steam escape, when 
it will carry the volatile matters out of the 
converter with it. Test the mixture with iodine 
to find out whether all the starch be converted, 
no blue colour being obtained when this result 
is attained, and also with silicate of potash and 
lead acetate for absence of dextrine, no turbidity 
being given in the absence of dextrine. It takes 
two to four hours for conversion. Run the 
liquor into the neutraliser, and add lime to com- 
bine with the acid, and pass in carbonic acid 
gas to precipitate the remaining lime. Filter the 
liquor, and evaporate to 20 Baume. Clarify 
in a blow-up pan with charcoal, again filter, and 
evaporate to 28 Baume for glucose syrup, or 
38 Baume for hard glucose. This process is still 
followed in some factories ; but the modern 
practice, as used in the United States, was the 
subject of a paper before the Institute of 
Brewing by Messrs. G. W. Rolfe and G. Defreu, 
from which the following particulars are taken. 

Glucose Manufacture in the United 
States. Maize is placed in steeptubs capable 
of holding 2,000 bushels or more. Water at 
150 F. is added and the steep allowed to cool 
to 90 F. Sulphurous acid is added to prevent 
putrefaction and to assist softening, and the 
steeping is continued for from three to five 
days. The separation of starch is brought 
about by grinding the wet grain mixed with 
water, separating the starch grains from the 
woody pulp and germ by washing through 
rapidly shaken sieves of bolting cloth, and 
settling out the starch from the gluten by 
subsidence while passing over gently inclined 
runs, called " tables," resembling a bowling 
alley. In many factories the germ is removed 
separately by a special process. 

The starch collected on the runs, and con- 
taining about 50 per cent, of water, is mixed 
with water to a thick cream of 20 Baume, and 
then converted with hydrochloric acid in large 
copper boilers at a steam pressure of about 30 Ib. 
The amount of acid used is about O'OOOG of the 
weight of the starch. In some factories sulphuric 
acid is used, and seems to be advantageous, in 
the manufacture of candy goods. Oxalic 
acid and hydrofluoric acid are also some- 
times employed. The point of conversion is 
controlled by the disappearance of the dextrine 
precipitate when the liquid is poured into alcohol. 
In making syrup glucose, the acid is mixed with 
about fifty times its bulk of water, and run into 
the converter. Steam is then turned on, and 
pressure maintained at 30 Ib. while the starch- 
milk is being pumped into the boiler, which 
takes about half an hour, and the heating is 
continued after this for 40 minutes or more. 
The degree of conversion is, in this case, entirely 
controlled by the iodine test. As soon as the 
conversion is complete the liquid is blown out 
into the neutraliser, where sodium carbonate 
is added. The neutralisation is a process 
of great delicacy, as any excess of acid or alkali 
will seriously affect the refining operations 
which follow. Properly neutralised liquor should 
fchow only the acidity caused by carbon dioxide 


or the weakest vegetable acids. It is of a clear, 
bright amber colour, and contains large floccu- 
lent masses of coagulated gluten, which, in a test- 
tube, form a layer of about half an inch thick. 
When the proper point of neutralisation is 
attained, this layer is greenish-drab, owing to the 
precipitated iron. 

Refining Glucose. The refining process 
is, in general, similar to that of sugar. Glucose 
liquors are, as a rule, put twice over bone black 
(free from ammonia or caustic lime) first at their 
original concentration of about 18 Baume, and 
again after concentration to 28 to 30 Baume, 
the denser syrup going over fresh black. The 
revivifying of the bone black is carried out on 
lines similar to those of sugar. The heavy liquor 
goes direct from the filters to the vacuum pan 
in most modern factories, and in this final con- 
centration sulphites are added in amounts 
varying from 0*008 to 0*050 per cent, of sul- 
phurous acid. The function of these sulphites is 
to prevent oxidation and consequent coloration 
due to the formation of caramel-like bodies, to 
bleach ferric salts as a prevention of fermentation 
of low, concentrated products, and as a pre- 
ventive of oxidation of candy goods in the candy 
kettle. Confectioners' goods are more heavily 
" doped " than others. 

In refining grape-sugar liquors, the concen- 
trated syrups are drawn off into pans or barrels, 
and allowed to solidify, a seed of crystallised 
sugar being often added to facilitate crystallisa- 

Anhydrous grape-sugar is made in a similar 
way to the syrup, which is refined at lower 
concentrations throughout the process in order 
to obtain a purer product. When crystallisation 
is complete, which takes about three days, the 
sugar is purged in centrifugals. Glucose syrups 
are made of six concentrations 39, 41, 42, 
43, 44, and 45 Baume. Mixing goods are 
generally finished up to 39 or 41 Baume, 
the latter being the grade usually sold to brewers. 
The higher concentrated products are used by 
confectioners and are characterised by a greater 
perfection of refining and a large amount of 
sulphites. They are frequently " whitened " 
with a little methyl violet. 

Testing Glucose. A well-refined glucose 
is practically colourless and clear. If a whito 
glass cylinder be filled with glucose, its colour, 
as well as any turbidity, may be seen. If the 
colour be a pure white the sample is dyed, as can 
be proved by exposing to the light for a few 
days, when the darkening which all glucoses 
undergo disturbs the colour balance, and the 
presence of dye is made more evident. If no 
dye be present the glucose, unless quite turbid, 
will show some colour, usually green or yellow. 
These tints are almost invariably present, and 
seem to be caused by traces of iron salts and 
vegetable colouring matters. They are of littb 
consequence, except as indicators of the thorough- 
ness of the refining and the removal of albu- 
minoids and oil, which affect the colour of the 
product. As to turbidity, cloudiness caused by 
faulty conversion, separation of dextrins, or sugar, 
is of rare occurrence. A smoky appearance is 



often caused l.y bone-blat k rust. or. in some 
. b\ in.n sulphide when a large quantity 
of ne\v 'I. lack i- u.- ed in refining Those, of 
course, an- the results of improper preparation 
i,f the l.lai-U. White doudiiK-ss is caused either 
l,\ calcium salts or by organic growth due to 
fermentation. 'I'll.- valuation of solid starch 
|.ra.-tically based on their dextrose 
content Whiteness, of years, seems to be 
moiv of a desideratum than formerly; hence 
the practice of dyeing is becoming common. 
The principal mineral impurity is iron, which, 
houever. is rarely present in more than traces. 
A delicate test for it is cochineal. Sulphites 
must be first removed and the solution made 
neutral or faintly alkaline. If iron be present 
the crimson of the cochineal gradually passes 
lolet. For some purposes glucose is tinted 
with caramel to make it resemble cane sugar. 

Glucose Manufacturing Plant. We 
now describe the plant used for making glucose. 
Two open converters for receiving the starch 
liquor from the settling tanks, or two wooden 
vessels, should measure 5 ft. 9 in. in diameter, 
8 ft. 9 in. deep, be secured by bands on the 
outside, be lined with thin sheet copper, and 
be provided with a copper heating coil and 

The closed converters consist of two copper 
cylinders T> ft. in diameter and 12 ft. deep, 
with closed ends i in. thick and shell | in. 
thick, with the necessary inlets and outlets for 
liquor and steam and condensation, and copper 
coil, also the safety valve and pressure gauge. 

The bag filters should be of the Taylor 
type, and have a capacity of filtering 10,000 
gallons in 10 hours. 

The animal char department should consist 
of four cast-iron filters 4 ft. in diameter and 
18 ft, long, in three or four lengths, and 
have the necessary inlets for different liquors. 
\\asli\\ater and steam, also the liquor outlets. 

The revivifying kilns should consist of 14-pipe 
kilns with a capacity for revivifying 10,000 Ib. 
of bone black per day of 24 hours. 

Klevators are necessary for conveying the 
char from the kiln to the receiving tank, which 
will supply the four char filters. 

Concentrating plant should be the triple 
\ pe. the vacuum pan to be a copper pan 
.">ft. (i in. in diameter with ."> ft. depth of curb, 
incline lM>ttom, dome, overflow and condenser. 
arranged to work on the dry system : the heating 
e of the pan to consist of three 2i in. 
Heamless copper coils held in position by brace- 
thoroughly bolted within the pan. All bolts 
\\ithin the pan to be of Munt/ metal; the 
I'ottom of the pan to have four lu.L's so as to 
ie-t upon (he beams of the building. 

Complete Plant for Making Glucose. 
The illustration |28] is a sectional elevation 
of a factory d.-eribi-il by \Y. T. .lebb. 1 Ju Halo. 

Y..rk (jo'.u of iss-j). A shows rteeping ,/ discharge >pout>. A 1 disintegrating or 

Tii-hiiii: milk ag rota, \ another 

>-t of airitatiiii.' rate, I', separating machine. 

'' shaking receiving hopper or re- 

'ptaele. ' -,,, foi coarse oll'al. 15' 


settling vats, I'.-' agitating vats. (.' tables or 
runs where the staivh is deposited, C 1 mixing 
tub, C 2 another set of starch tables or runs, 
( <; tub for grading starch, C 4 draining box, 
( ' dry kiln, C" refuse cistern, D closed converter, 
d perforated steam coil, rf 1 pipe for admitting 
steam, d* valve, rf ;i steam outlet pipe, d 4 pipe 
for conveying liquid to converter, &> valve, 
d G and d~ test cocks, d s pipe, d 9 steam pipe, 

d w valve, d n blow-off pipe, d iz and d 13 steam 

pipes, d u and <7 15 globe v 

d 17 steam gauge, d*> pipe, E * blow-off tank, 

valve, d w manhole, 

e vent pipe, F tank or vat, f 1 pipe to G neutral- 
ising tank, H neutralising tank, I settling tank, 
J bleaching tanks, k furnace, K pump, k l pipes, 
k 2 cooling vessel, k 3 washing vessel, L receiver, 
M filters, M 1 bag filters, N receiving tank, N 1 
bone black filter, N 2 conveyer, N 3 hopper, 
N 4 shaking sieves, N 6 box receiver, N 6 spout, 
N 7 steam tank, O tank, O 1 vacuum pan, O- 
receiving tank, P press filters, P 1 bag filters, 
Q cooling apparatus, q pans or moulds in which 
the glucose hardens, R cutting machine, 
S drying chamber, S 1 suction fan, T horizontal 
rollers, U centrifugal machine, U l disintegrating 
machine, V drying apparatus, v steam jacket, 
v l rollers, v 2 steam supply pipe, v 3 rotating pipe, 
v* branches, i space between walls of steam 
jacket, tfi hollow head, v~ openings, f 8 tubes, 
v 9 steam pipes, v w condensed steam discharge, 
v 11 strips or buckets, v n cylinder casing, 
?; 13 inlet openings, v u suction fan, v 1 -'' hood 
terminating in tube, v 16 , connected with chess- 
hopper, v 11 tube, v 18 , v 19 and v 20 hoppers, v- 1 
feed roller, W disintegrating mill, X storage bins. 

The Bounty System. It has been the 
practice of European countries to give bounties 
to the manufacturers of beet sugar on all sugar 
exported, the idea being to stimulate the industry 
in the countries where bounties were given. 
This policy had the effect of making sugar for 
local sale more expensive, and of depriving the 
people of a nutritious food. Sugar refiners also 
felt the effects very severely, and the West 
Indian cane sugar industry was affected. Thin, 
and countervailing duties on sugar imported 
into India, brought matters to a head, and a 
conference was called in 1898, which ended in 
the International Convention, which has for 
its object the equalising of the conditions of 
competition between beet and cane sugar, and 
the promoting of the consumption of sugar. 

The Sugar Duty. The Finance Act, 
1901, imposed an import duty on sugar and 
sugar-containing articles as from April 19th, 
1901. The following are the chief rates : sugar 
of a polarisation exceeding 98 deg., 4s. 2d. per 
cwt. ; sugar of a polarisation not exceeding 
76 deg., 2s. per cwt. The intermediate duties 
are calculated from these charges. Molasses and 
invert sugar, if containing 70 per cent, or more 
of sweetening matter, 2s. 9d. per cwt. ; if con- 
taining less than 70 per cent, and more than 
"iO per cent., 2s. per ewt. ; not more than 50 
per cent.. Is. per cwt. ; glucose, solid, 2s. 9d. 
per cwt. : ohicose. liquid. 2s. per cwt. The 
imposition of sii'^ar duty involves also duty on 
blaekin-. candied peel.' caramel, cattle foods 



containing molasses, cherries, chutney, sugared 
coconut, confectionery, crystallised flowers, 
canned or bottled fruit containing syrup, pre- 
served ginger, marmalades, jams, sweetened 
spirits, marzipan, condensed milk, Nestle's milk 
food, soy, and tamarinds. 

Effect on Price of Sugar. The effect 
of the Convention and Sugar Duty, com- 
bined with a shortage in the Continental beet 
sugar harvest, has been to raise the price of 
sugar in Great Britain, and to affect businesses 
which depend largely upon cheap sugar. The 
following table from De Silva's circular shows 
the fluctuation in the average " spot " price 
of sugar for the last three years : 




s. d. 

B. d. 

s. d. 

Java D.S., 15, f.l. terms . . . . 

8 4 

9 7| 

10 Hi 

Pernams, 87 polarisation 
German beet, basis 88 per cent., 

6 10} 

8 li 

9 2* 

prompt, f.o.b., Hamburg 
First marks granulated 

6 7i 
8 1} 

8 2 10 
9 9 | 11 9J 

It will probably need further statistics to prove 
whether the rise in price is due more to shortage 
of crops and more local consumption than to 
duties, but meanwhile it is interesting to note 
that the amount of sugar consumed in Conti- 
nental countries has much increased. 

Sugar Weights and Marks. On the 
London market, refined sugar contracts are made 
in the form laid down by the Refined Sugar 
Association. The contract embodies the con- 

ditions of the Association as to weight, delivery, 
and payment. The cwt. is taken as equivalent 
to 50f kilos, and bags, when used, must be new, 
and weigh not less than 850 grammes before 
filling. There are separate conditions for Dutch, 
French, German, Austrian, and Belgian sugars. 
French cube sugar comes in cwt. cases, and 
Dutch crushed sugar in barrels of about 2 cwt. 

First Marks. German Granulated Sugar. 
These are, Bonart, C.F., C.R.M., D.V., E.C.H., 
F.M.S., G.D., Glauzig, Groaningen, Grasso, Hansa 
J.B.R., J.H., J.H.B.M., O.F., R.A.C.L., R.A.V., 
S.P.R., Star, Z.H., Z.A., Z.A.F., Z.R.B., Z.R.D., 

German Cubes. Hansa, C.Z.F., A.S.P., S.P.R., 
F.K.L., T.T.D., A.C.L., S.Z.G., Z.R.D., F.M.S., 
R.A.V., Meyer, X.L.R. 

German Cut-loaf and Loaves. C.Z.F., A.C.L., 

German Crystals. A.S.P., S.Z.G., E. A.R., A.Z., 
R.F., S.P. 

German Castor Sugar. Skene, A.S.P., G.S., 

French Granulated. Lebaudy, R.P., A.T. 

French Cubes. Lebaudy, E.S., R.P., Say. 

Dutch Cubes. A.S.R., S. & T., W.S.R. 

Dutch Cut-loaf and Loaves. A.S.R. 

Dutch Crushed Sugar. A.S.R., S. &T., W.S.R. 

Dutch Crystals. W.S.R. 

Belgian Cubes. R.T., R.B., Super. 

Belgian Cut-loaf and Loaves. M.F. 

Belgian Crushed Sugar. R.B. Super. 

Austrian Cubes. C.Z.F., T.T.V., T.T.D. 

Austrian Crushed Sugar. T.T.V., T.T.D., E.S. 

SUGAR concluded ; followed by CONDIMENTS 


Group 24 


.1 (i.,ii, 


The Science of Crystallography. Its Value in Industry. The Molecular 
Structure of Metals. The Physics of the Stars. The Problem of Solution 



the manv neu -ul>jects to which reference 

has lately been made we must choose only 
tho>e \\ hieh are of wide interest, or, rather, those 
which we can already recognise as being of wide 
interest. The scope of our course will have been 
very wide, but the reader must not imagine th -i! 
it has been possible for us to keep pace with 
\\hat one of its most distinguished workers, 
M,-. \Vhetham, calls "the recent development 
of physical science." We cannot, for instance, 
discuss the newest work which has been done 
by Sir James Dewar and his followers in the 
liquefaction of gases, a process which has been 
successfully accomplished with every known 
gas, with the solitary exception of helium. Sir 
.I itiirs Dewar, however, has lately been able to 
return to active work, and we may hope that he 
will at last conquer even this gas. 

The Study of Crystals. We may briefly 
refer to. another very important study which 
is also concerned with our conception of the 
three states of matter. This is the study of 
>olidification and crystallisation. We can merely 
direct the reader's attention to the subject on 
three distinct grounds. 

First, we must recognise that the study of 
crystaU will help us to understand the mole- 
cular structure of matter. We must believe 
that the varying shapes of crystals depend, 
in some way, upon the varying shapes of the 
molecules of which they are composed. We 
conceive of molecules, of course, in terms of 
stereo-rhe nntri/ that is to say, in terms of three- 
dimensional space. In our recent studies, both 
in physics and chemistry, we have seen how 
(litTeivnt kinds of crystals are able ultimately 
in consequence of their molecular structure 
to produce remarkable changes in a beam of 
light, and we have also noticed the extraordinary 
fact that there are certain forms of life which 
have a. .-elective affinity tor crystals, or, rather, 
for molecules dt cert iin shapes, but do not act 
upon other molecules which are identical in every 
uay hut for t he one difference which corresponds 
to the difference l.etu een t he right hand and the 
left, or between any object and its mirror image 
The Crystalline Structure of Metals. 

' lly. the Mudy of crystals and crystalline 
-tructure i- now seen to be of extraordinary 

ical importance; just as all trees have 
Mowers, though the flowers are inconspicuou-,. 
SO the metals, though we do not readilv 

"-' " ' 'iv>talline structure. 

Further, we tmd tint to this crystalline 
Mructure, t,, these mutual relations of the im.le- 
raks, miiM In- referred the gross physical 
properties <>\ .my -perinien of .1 metal.' The 

ultimate difference 1,,-twren the nnl of steel. 

or the tube of steel, which remains intact arid 
another which bursts on board a steamship and 
kills a dozen men with scalding steam is to be 
found in crystalline structure, in the relations 
which the molecules assumed when the steel, or 
other metal under consideration, underwent the 
process of solidification. It is interesting to note 
that the microscope, invented in the interests of 
biology, and long used by biologists alone, now 
forms an invaluable part of the armamentarium of 
the metallurgist, who is enabled by its means 
to make minute study of the crystalline forms 
of various specimens of various metals and alloys, 
and to correlate differences in this respect with 
physical properties, such as brittleness, elasticity, 
density and the like. 

Value of Crystallography in In= 
dustry. If the reader should ask where he 
must look for the most noteworthy advances 
in this subject, and for the most extensive 
knowledge, he may be referred to the University 
of Sheffield, the metallurgical work of Avhiclt 
affords an admirable instance of that wise 
tendency towards specialisation which the 
universities of this country are now T exhibiting. 

In this connection we may quote from Dr. 
A. E. H. Tutton, F.R.S. (" Times," June 20th, 
1906). Speaking of crystallography, he says: 
" Its bearing on engineering, moreover, is of 
no trifling character, since the whole of the 
metallic materials employed by the engineer are 
crystalline substances. Hundreds of valuable 
lives have been sacrificed by the existence of 
flaws in metallic beams, girders, tie-rods, bolts, 
rails, wheels and axles, consequent on local 
development of crystalline structure, or on the 
local separation of crystals of a particular con- 
stituent in an alloy or a steel. Many of these 
might have been saved if we had possessed 
exact knowledge of the crystallographieal 
character of metals, and of the influence upon 
it of the various metallurgical and mechanical 
processes to which steels are subject. Inves- 
tigations to this end are at length being tardily 
initiated, and the practical utility of this branch ! 
of crystallography is so obvious as to appeal 
to all, and from motives equally economic and 

"Neither Alive nor Dead." Thirdly, 
the study of crystals is of the most extra- 
ordinary interest in relation to the problems 
of life. In the narrow sense crystals are not 
i! live ; but they display certain characters which 
Mroiurly suggest that, from some points of view, 
they may be regarded as intermediate between" 
the living and what we are pleased to call 
non-living. M. von Schron, the Director of the 
Pathological Institute of the University of 

Naples, has been working for many years at this 
subject, and appears to have reached some 
amazing results. He believes that a crystal is 
an organised evolving being like an animal or 
a plant, and having its own biological laws. 
In rocks he discovers what he calls petro-cells 
(from the Greek word for a rock), and in these 
he recognises by the microscope a definite nucleus. 
He has taken thousands of photographs of what 
he believes to be crystal cells which are 
formed when a salt crystallises out of a solution, 
and he declares that the struggle for existence 
can be detected amongst such cells. In his view, 
all minerals are colonies of beings which live 
or have lived. 

Does all Matter Respond to Stimu= 
lation ? A very distinguished Indian physic- 
ist, Professor Chundra Bose, of the Presidency 
College, Calcutta, published in 1902 a re- 
markable book, entitled " Response in the 
Living and the Non-Living," in which he was 
enabled to show that various crystalline forms of 
matter exhibit response to electrical stimulation, 
and show fatigue and electrical phenomena 
identical with those which the physiologists have 
hitherto described as characteristic of living 
muscle. His work was met with the usual and 
necessary incredulity accorded to the pioneer, but 
his results have stood, and in the present year 
he has published another book, called " Plant 
Response," which carries his work still further, 
proving the identity of response to stimulation in 
the animal, in the plant, and in various kinds 
of crystalline inorganic matter. We may briefly 
quote from page 40 of Professor Bose's re- 
markable book, published in this country by 
Messrs. Longmans, Green & Co. : 

" By following the electrical method of 
inquiry which has just been described, I have 
been able to prove that the power of responding 
to stimulus, and, under certain conditions, the 
arrest of this power, is the characteristic, not of 
organic matter only, but of all matter, both 
organic and inorganic ; and that, in general, the 
various agencies which bring on the modification 
of response in one case 3uch as fatigue, 
temperature changes, stimulating or depressing 
chemical reagents act in the same way in the 
other. The capability of responding, so long 
regarded as the peculiar characteristic of the 
organic, is also found in the inorganic, and seems 
to depend in all cases, both qualitatively and quan- 
titatively, on the condition of molecular mobility." 

All Elements have Crystalline 
Forms. We may conclude our brief review 
of this big subject by one or two more 
references to the work of Dr. Tutton, which 
is of extreme importance. He says : 

" The fundamental fact of the science is that 
every solid chemical element, whether metallic 
or non-metallic, and every solid substance of 
definite chemical composition, be it naturally 
occurring or artificially prepared (with the ex- 
ception of the few which have never yet been 
obtained in the crystalline condition owing to 
the great viscosity of their solutions or of their 
molecules when in the state of union), has its own 
definite crystalline form, which is just as much 


a characteristic feature of the substance, by 
which it can be identified, as is any one of its 
chemical or physical properties. This is a state- 
ment which it has only quite recently been 
possible to make with certainty. For it was for a 
long time thought that the members of the 
numerous well-known series of analogous chemi- 
cal compounds (which only differ in containing 
a different member of a family group of chemical 
elements as their dominating and generally 
metallic constituent) were absolutely identical in 
their crystalline form, and they were consequently 
classed as ' isomorphous.' But the author of 
this article has been able to prove, as the result 
of fifteen years' work, that although the forms 
are very similar, and although they belong to the 
same type of symmetry, the angles between their 
corresponding faces are different, to the extent it 
may be of only a few minutes of arc, but in some 
cases by as much as a couple of degrees. More- 
over, the amount of the difference is governed 
by a definite law, which connects the atomic 
weight of the metal or other dominating (acid- 
forming) element present with the whole of the 
properties of the crystals, whether of exterior 
form, of optical character, or of internal structure. 

" The main result of the highest refinement of 
crystal measurement has been to establish the 
fact that perfectly developed crystals of the same 
chemical substance invariably exhibit faces in- 
clined at precisely (to within one or two minutes 
of arc) the same angles, whatever may be the 
variations in the relative sizes of the different 
faces. In brief, the interfacial angles of crystals 
of the same substance are constant, and are 
the peculiar property of that substance, differ- 
entiating it from all others." 

The Physics of the Stars. The term astro- 
physics, which has been popularised by the work of 
Miss Agnes Clerke, is equivalent to what is usually 
meant by the " new astronomy." It is obvious 
that the law of gravitation is a law of the physics 
of the stars ; but this is not quite the meaning 
of the term astro-physics. It is practically 
astronomy as studied by the spectroscope, and 
depends upon the application of our knowledge 
of optics. Partly, as we have already seen, 
astro-physics deals with a purely physical pro- 
blem, such as the effect of radiation pressure 
upon movements in the heavens, or the study 
of the motion of stars in the line of sight. 
But mainly, perhaps, astro-physics deals with 
chemical problems only that they are solved not 
by chemical but by physical means. But we 
have discussed, in concluding the course on 
Chemistry, the chemistry of the stars and 
the manner in which physical means have 
enabled Sir Norman Lockyer and others, even 
before the demonstration of the transmutation of 
the elements on the earth, to declare that such 
transmutation takes place in the heavens. Here