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Table of Contents

VISION—THE EYE—THE STEREOSCOPE—SPECTRUM ANALYSIS—THE SPECTROSCOPE—THE TELESCOPE AND MICROSCOPE—PHOTOGRAPHY—DISSOLVING VIEWS—LUMINOUS PAINT.

The eye and vision are such important subjects to all of us that we may be excused for saying something more concerning phenomena connected with them, and the instruments we use for assisting them. We do not propose to write a treatise upon the physiology of vision, for we know the image in the eye is produced physically in the same manner as the image in a camera obscura. In the eye the sides of the box are represented by the sclerotic (see chap. x. fig. 95); the dark inner surface has its parallel in the pigment of the choroid; the opening in the box in the pupil of the eye; the convex lens in the crystalline and the cornea; and the retina receives the image. But why we see—beyond the fact that we do see—no one can explain. Science is dumb on the subject. Thought and consciousness elude our grasp; and, as Professor Tyndall says on this subject, “we stand face to face with the incomprehensible.”

But there are many interesting facts connected with our vision which may be plainly described. Some people are obliged to carry an object (or a book) to within ten inches of the eye to see it distinctly; and a person who does not possess convergent power of the eye will have to move it farther off, or use convex glasses; while a “near-sighted” person, whose eyes are too quickly convergent, will use concave glasses to bring the object near to the eye.

There is but one small place in the retina of the eye which admits of perfect vision. This, the most sensitive portion, is called the “yellow spot,” and vision becomes more and more indistinct from this point towards the circumference. This can be proved by any one; for in reading we are obliged to carry our eyes from word to word, and backwards and forwards along the lines of print. Another very important element in our vision is the contraction and enlargement of the iris around the pupil. In cases where strong light would only dazzle us the iris expands, and the pupil is contracted to a sufficient size to accommodate our vision. At night, or in a darkened room, the pupil is enlarged. This change will account for our not being immediately able to see objects when we have passed from darkness to great light, or vice versâ. The iris must have time to accommodate itself to the light.

Now, outside the small space of perfect vision above mentioned, there is a circle of considerable extent, called the “field of vision.” In man this field, when the eyes are fixed, subtends an angle of about 180°, because beyond that the rays cannot enter the pupil of the eye. But in the lower animals, the fish and birds—notably the ostrich—the field of vision is much more extensive, because the pupils are more prominent, or the eyes are set more towards the sides of the head. The ostrich can see behind him, and fish can see in any direction without apparent limit. Man can only see indistinctly; and though he can move his eyes rapidly, he can see distinctly but a small portion of any object at a time, yet he sees with both eyes simultaneously a single object, because the two lines of vision unite at a single point, and as the two images cover each other we perceive only one image. Beyond or within this point of meeting the vision is indistinct, but the angle of convergence is always varied according to the distance of the object. If we hold up a penholder in front of us, and in a line with any other defined object—say an ink-bottle—we can see the penholder distinctly, and the ink-bottle indistinctly, as two images. If we then look at the ink-bottle we shall see it single, while the penholder will appear double, but with imperfect outlines.

Fig. 147.—The Stereoscope.

Fig. 148.—Mode of taking photograph for Stereoscope.

Again, if we look at a box both eyes will see it equally well, but the right eye will see a little more on its right side, and the left eye on the left. It is on this principle that the Stereoscope is constructed. Sir Charles Wheatstone was the inventor, and the instrument may be thus described:—Two pictures are taken by photography—one as the landscape is seen by the right eye, the other as it is viewed by the left; the points of view thus differing slightly. When both eyes are simultaneously applied to the instrument the view is seen exactly as it would appear to the beholder at the actual place it represents. The views are taken singly; one side at one time, and another after, as in the camera (fig. 148). A is the first view; B is kept dark; C is the shutter for A. There are Reflecting and Refracting Stereoscopes. In the former a mirror reflects the image into each eye; in the latter the views are pasted on a card, side by side, and looked at through prismatic lenses. The principles of Binocular Vision have been applied to the Microscope.

In foregoing chapters we have given many examples with diagrams of the temporary impressions made upon the retina of the eye. It is a fact that a wheel revolving at a great rate will appear to be standing still when suddenly illuminated by a flash of lightning, because the eye has not time to take in the motion in the instant of time, for the spokes of the wheel are not moving fast enough to convey the impression of motion in that half second to the eye; yet the perfect outline of the wheel is distinctly visible.

Indeed, distinct vision can be exercised in a very small fraction of a second. It was calculated by Professor Rood, and proved by experiment, that forty billionths of a second is sufficient time for the eye to distinguish letters on a printed page. It this instance the illuminating power was an electric spark from a Leyden Jar.

We have remarked upon the distinctness with which we can see an object when we direct our gaze upon it, and this appears a self-evident proposition; but have any of our readers remarked the curious fact that when they want to see a faint and particular star in the sky it will at once disappear when they gaze at it? The best way to see such very faint orbs as this is to look away from them—a little to one side or the other—and then the tiny point will become visible again to the eye. There is also a degree of phosphorescence in the eye, which any one who receives a blow upon that organ will readily admit. Even a simple pressure on the closed lid will show us a circle of light and “colours like a peacock’s tail,” as the great Newton expressed it. There are many occasions in which light is perceived in the eye—generally the result of muscular action; and the Irish term to “knock fire out of my eye” is founded upon philosophical facts.

We are many of us aware of “spots” on our eyes when our digestion is out of order, and the inability of the eye to see figures distinctly in a faint light—within a proper seeing distance, too—has often given rise to the “ghost.” These shadowy forms are nothing more than affections of the eye, and, as well remarked in Brewster’s Letters on Natural Magic, “are always white because no other colour can be seen.” The light is not sufficiently strong to enable the person to see distinctly; and as the eye passes from side to side, and strives to take in the figure, it naturally seems shadowy and indistinct, and appears to move as our eyes move. “When the eye dimly descries an inanimate object whose different parts reflect different degrees of light, its brighter parts may enable the spectator to keep up a continued view of it; but the disappearance and reappearance of its fainter parts, and the change of shape which ensues, will necessarily give it the semblance of a living form; and if it occupies a position which is unapproachable, and where animate objects cannot find their way, the mind will soon transfer to it a supernatural existence. In like manner a human figure shadowed forth in a feeble twilight may undergo similar changes, and after being distinctly seen while it is in a situation favourable for receiving and reflecting light, it may suddenly disappear in a position before and within the reach of the observer’s eye; and if this evanescence takes place in a path or roadway where there is no sideway by which the figure could escape, it is not easy for an ordinary mind to efface the impression which it cannot fail to receive.” This will account for many so-called “ghosts.”

Accidental colours, or ocular spectra, are, so to speak, illusions, and differently-coloured objects will, when our gaze is turned from them, give us different “spectra” or images. For instance, a violet object will, when we turn to a sheet of white paper, give us a yellow “spectrum”; orange will be blue; black and white will change respectively; red will become a blue-green. From a very strong white light the accidental colours will vary.

Fig. 149.—The Solar Spectrum.

The Solar Spectrum is the name given to the coloured band formed by the decomposition of a beam of light into its elementary colours, of which there are seven. This is an easy experiment. A ray of light can be admitted into a darkened room through a hole in the shutter, and thus admitted will produce a white spot on the screen opposite, as at g in the diagram (fig. 149). If we interpose a prism—a triangular piece of glass—the “drop” of a chandelier will do—we cause it to diverge from its direct line, and it will produce a longer streak of light lower down. This streak will exhibit the prismatic colours, or the “colours of the rainbow”; viz., red (at the top), orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo (blue), and violet last. These are the colours of the Solar Spectrum. The white light is thus decomposed, and it is called mixed light, because of the seven rays of which it is composed. These rays can be again collected and returned to the white light by means of a convex lens.

“White light,” said Sir Isaac Newton, “is composed of rays differently refrangible,” and as we can obtain the colours of the rainbow from white light, we can, by painting them on a circular plate and turning it rapidly round, make the plate appear white. Thus we can prove that the seven colours make “white” when intermingled. But Newton (1675) did not arrive at the great importance of his experiment. He made a round hole in the shutter, and found that the various colours overlapped each other. But, in 1802, Dr. Wollaston improved on this experiment, and by admitting the light through a tiny slit in the wood, procured an almost perfect spectrum of “simple” colours, each one perfectly distinct and divided by black lines.

But twelve years later, Professor Fraunhofer made a chart of these lines, which are still known by his name. Only, instead of the 576 he discovered, there are now thousands known to us! To Fraunhofer’s telescope Mr. Simms added a collimating lens, and so the Spectroscope was begun; and now we use a number of prisms and almost perfect instruments, dispersing the light through each. We have here an illustration of a simple Spectroscope, which is much used for chemical analysis (fig. 150).

In the spectrum we have long and short waves of light, as we have long and short (high and low) waves in music, called notes. The long or low notes are as the red rays, the high notes as the blue waves of light. (Here we have another instance of the similarity between light and sound.) But suppose we shut out the daylight and substitute an artificial light. If we use a lamp burning alcohol with salt (chloride of sodium), the spectrum will only consist of two yellow bands, all the other colours being absent. With lithium we obtain only two, one orange and one red. From this we deduce the fact that different substances when burning produce different spectra; and although a solid may (and platinum will) give all seven colours in its spectrum, others, as we have seen, will only give us a few, the portion of the spectrum between the colours being black. Others are continuous, and transversed by “lines” or narrow spaces devoid of light; such is the spectrum of the sun, and by careful and attentive calculation and observation we can get an approximate idea of the matter surrounding the heavenly bodies.

Fig. 150.—The Spectroscope.

We have said there are lines crossing the spectrum transversely; these are called Fraunhofer’s lines, after the philosopher who studied them; they were, however, discovered by Wollaston. These lines are caused by light from the lower portion of the sun passing through the metallic vapours surrounding the orb in a state of incandescence, such as sodium, iron, etc. One of Fraunhofer’s lines, a black double line known as D in the yellow portion of the spectrum, was known to occupy the same place as a certain luminous line produced by sodium compounds in the flame of a spirit lamp. This gave rise to much consideration, and at length Kirchkoff proved that the sodium vapour which gives out yellow light can also absorb that light; and this fact, viz., that every substance, which at a certain temperature emits light of a certain refrangibility, possesses at that temperature the power to absorb that same light. So the black lines are now considered the reversal of luminous lines due to the incandescent vapours by which the sun is surrounded. Thus the presence of an element can be found from black or luminous lines, so the existence of terrestrial elements in celestial bodies has been discovered by means of preparing charts of the lines of the terrestrial elements, and comparing them with the lines of stella spectra.

We have supposed the beam of light to enter through a slit in the shutter, and fall upon a screen or sheet. The solar spectrum shown by the passage of the beam through a prism is roughly as below—

Fig. 151.—Example of the Spectrum.

Fraunhofer substituted a telescope for the lens and the screen, and called his instrument a Spectroscope. He then observed the lines, which are always in the same position in the solar spectrum. The principal of them he designated as A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H. The first three are in the red part of the spectrum; one in the yellow, then one in the green; F comes between green and blue, G in the indigo-blue, and H in the violet. But these by no means exhaust the lines now visible. Year by year the study of Spectrum Analysis has been perfected more and more, and now we are aware of more than three thousand “lines” existing in the solar spectrum. The spectra of the moon and planets contain similar dark lines as are seen in the solar spectrum, but the fixed stars show different lines. By spectrum analysis we know the various constituents of the sun’s atmosphere, and we can fix the result of our observations made by means of the Spectroscope in the photographic camera. By the more recent discoveries great studies have been made in “solar chemistry.”

What can we do with the Spectroscope, or rather, What can we not do? By Spectroscopy we can find out, and have already far advanced upon our path of discovery, “the measure of the sun’s rotation, the speed and direction of the fierce tornados which sweep over its surface, and give rise to the ‘maelstroms’ we term ‘sunspots,’ and the mighty alps of glowing gas that shoot far beyond the visible orb, ever changing their form and size; even the temperature and pressure of the several layers and their fluctuations are in process of being defined and determined.” This is what science is doing for us, and when we have actually succeeded in ascertaining the weather at various depths in the atmosphere of the sun, we shall be able to predict our own, which depends so much upon the sun. Last year (1880) Professor Adams, in his address to the British Association, showed that magnetic disturbances, identical in kind, took place at places widely apart simultaneously. He argues that the cause of these identical disturbances must be far removed from the earth.

“If,” he says, “we imagine the masses of iron, nickel, and magnesium in the sun to retain even in a slight degree their magnetic power in a gaseous state, we have a sufficient cause for all our magnetic changes. We know that masses of metal are ever boiling up from the lower and hotter levels of the sun’s atmosphere to the cooler upper regions, where they must again form clouds to throw out their light and heat, and to absorb the light and heat coming from the hotter lower regions; then they become condensed, and are drawn back again towards the body of the sun, so forming those remarkable dark spaces or sunspots by their down rush to their former levels. In these vast changes we have abundant cause for those magnetic changes which we observe at the same instant at distant points on the surface of the earth.” So we are indebted to the Spectroscope for many wonderful results—the constitution of the stars, whether they are solid or gaseous, and many other wonders.

The manner in which we have arrived at these startling conclusions is not difficult to be understood, but some little explanation will be necessary.

The existence of dark lines in the solar spectrum proves that certain rays of solar light are absent, or that there is less light. When we look through the prism we perceive the spaces or lines, and we can produce these ourselves by interposing some substance between the slit in the shutter before mentioned and the prism. The vapour of sodium will answer our purpose, and we shall find a dark line in the spectrum, the bright lines being absorbed by the vapour. We can subject a substance to any temperature we please, and into any condition—solid, liquid, or gaseous; we can also send the light the substance may give out through certain media, and we can photograph the spectrum given out under all conditions. The distance of the source of the light makes no difference. So whether it be the sun, or a far-distant star, we can tell by the light sent to us what the physical condition of the star may be. It was discovered in 1864 that the same metallic body may give different spectra; for instance, the spectrum might be a band of light—like the rainbow—or a few isolated colours; or again, certain detached lines in groups. The brightness of the spectrum lines will change with the depth of the light-giving source, or matter which produces it.

We have become aware by means of the Spectroscope that numerous metals known to us on earth are in combustion in the sun, and new ones have thus been discovered. In the immense ocean of gas surrounding the sun there are twenty-two elements as given by Mr. Lockyer, including iron, sodium, nickel, barium, zinc, lead, calcium, cobalt, hydrogen, potassium, cadmium, uranium, strontium, etc. Not only is the visible spectrum capable of minute examination, but, as in the case of the heat spectrum already mentioned when speaking of Calorescence, the light spectrum has been traced and photographed far beyond the dark space after the blue and violet rays, seven times longer than the visible solar spectrum—a spectrum of light invisible to our finite vision. Although a telescope has been invented for the examination of these “ultra violet” rays, no human eye can see them. But—and here science comes in—when a photographic plate is put in place of the eye, the tiniest star can be seen and defined. Even the Spectroscope at length fails, because light at such limits has been held to be “too coarse-grained for our purposes”! “Light,” says a writer on this subject “we can then no longer regard as made of smooth rays; we have to take into account—and to our annoyance—the fact that its ‘long levelled rules’ are rippled, and its texture, as it were, loose woven”!

Twenty years ago Professors Kirchkoff and Bunsen applied Fraunhofer’s method to the examination of coloured flames of various substances, and since then we have been continually investigating the subject; yet much remains to be learnt of Spectrum Analysis, and Spectroscopy has still much to reveal. From Newton’s time to the present our scientists have been slowly but surely examining with the Spectroscope the composition of spectra, and the Spectroscope is now the greatest assistant we possess.

“Spectrum Analysis, then, teaches us the great fact that solids and liquids give out continuous spectra, and vapours and gases give out discontinuous spectra instead of an unbroken light” (Lockyer). We have found out that the sunlight and moonlight are identical, that the moon gives us spectrum like a reflection of the former, but has no atmosphere, and that comets are but gases or vapours. The most minute particles of a grain of any substance can be detected to the millionth fraction. The 1/1000 of a grain of blood can be very readily distinguished in a stain after years have passed. The very year of a certain vintage of wine has been told by means of “absorption,” or the action of different bodies on light in the spectrum. It is now easy, “by means of the absorption of different vapours and different substances held in solution, to determine not only what the absorbers really are, but also to detect a minute quantity.” The application of this theory is due to Dr. Gladstone, who used hollow prisms filled with certain substances, and so thickened the “absorption lines.” By these lines, or bands, with the aid of the Spectrum Microscope, most wonderful discoveries have been made, and will continue to be made. We will close this portion of the subject with a brief description of the Spectroscope in principle.

The instrument consists of two telescopes arranged with two object-glasses on a stand (fig. 150). A narrow slit is put in place of the eye-piece of one, the arrangement admitting of the slit being made smaller or larger by means of screws. The glass to which the slit is attached is called the collimating lens. The light, at the end of the slit seen from the other telescope, being separated by the prisms between the two telescopes, will produce the spectrum. The Spectroscope is enclosed, so that no exterior light shall interfere with the spectra the student wishes to observe. This merely indicates the principle, not the details, of the Spectroscope, which vary in different instruments.

We may now pass from the Spectroscope to the Telescope and the Microscope, instruments to which we are most largely indebted for our knowledge of our surroundings in earth, air, and water.

The word Telescope is derived from the Greek tele, far, and skopein, to see; and the instrument is based upon the property possessed by a convex lens or concave mirror, of converging to a focus the rays of light falling on it from any object, and at that point or focus forming an image of the object. The following diagram will illustrate this. Let VW be a lens, and AB an object between the glass, and F the focus. The ray, Ac, is so refracted as to appear to come from a. The ray from b likewise appears in a similar way, and a magnified image, ab, is the result (fig. 152).

The ordinary Telescope consists of an object-glass and an eye-lens, with two intermediates to bring the object into an erect position. A lens brings it near to us, and a magnifier enlarges it for inspection. We will now give a short history of the Telescope and its improved construction.

Roger Bacon was supposed to have had some knowledge of the Telescope, for in 1551 it was written: “Great talke there is of a glass he made at Oxford, in which men see things that were don.” But a little later, Baptista Porta found out the power of the convex lens to bring objects “nearer.” It was, however, according to the old tale, quite by an accident that the Telescope was discovered about the year 1608.

Fig. 152.—Converging rays to a focus.

In Middleburg, in Holland, lived a spectacle-maker named Zachary Jansen, and his sons, when playing with the lenses in the shop, happened to fix two of them at the proper distance, and then to look through both. To the astonishment of the boys, they perceived an inverted image of the church weathercock much nearer and much larger than usual. They at once told their father what they had seen. He fixed the glasses in a tube, and having satisfied himself that his sons were correct, thought little more about the matter. This is the story as told, but there is little doubt that for the first Telescope the world was indebted either to Hans Lippersheim or Joseph Adriansz, the former a spectacle-maker of Middleburg; and in October 1608, Lippersheim presented to the Government three instruments, with which he “could see things at a distance.” Jansen came after this. The report of the invention soon spread, and Galileo, who was then in Venice, eagerly seized upon the idea, and returning to Padua with some lenses, he managed to construct a telescope, and began to study the heavens. This was in 1609. Galileo’s Tube became celebrated, and all the first telescopes were made with the concave eye-lens. Rheita, a monk, made a binocular telescope, as now used in our opera- and field-glasses approximately.

But the prismatic colours which showed themselves in the early telescopes were not got rid of, nor was it till 1729 that Hall, by studying the mechanism of the eye, managed a combination of lenses free from colour. Ten years before (in 1718) Hadley had established the Reflector Telescope; Herschel made his celebrated forty-foot “reflector” in 1789.

Fig. 153.—The Microscope.

However, to resume. In 1747, Euler declared that it was quite possible to construct an arrangement of lenses so as to obtain a colourless image, but he was at first challenged by John Dollond. The latter, however, was afterwards induced to make experiments with prisms of crown and flint glass. He then tried lenses, and with a concave lens of flint, and a convex lens of crown, he corrected the colours. The question of proper curvature was finally settled, and the “Achromatic” Telescope became an accomplished fact.

There are two classes of Telescopes—the reflecting and refracting. Lord Rosse’s is an instance of the former. Mr. Grubb’s immense instrument in Dublin is a refractor.

The Microscope has been also attributed to Zacharias Jansen, and Drebbel, in 1619, possessed the instrument in London, but it was of little or no use. The lens invented by Hall, as already mentioned, gave an impetus to the Microscope. In the simple Microscope the objects are seen directly through the lens or lenses acting as one. The compound instrument is composed of two lenses (or a number formed to do duty as two), an eye-lens, and an object-lens. Between these is a “stop” to restrain all light, except what is necessary to view the object distinctly. The large glass near the object bends the rays on to the eyeglass, and a perfect magnified image is perceived. We annex diagrams, from which the construction will be readily understood.

Fig. 154.—Image on the Retina.

We have in the previous chapter mentioned the effect of light upon the eye and its direction, and when an object is placed very near the eye we know it cannot be distinctly seen; a magnified image is thrown upon the retina, and the divergency of the rays prevents a clear image being perceived. But if a small lens of a short “focal length” be placed in front of the eye, having PQ for its focus, the rays of light will be parallel, or very nearly so, and will as such produce “distinct vision,” and the image will be magnified at pq. In the Compound Refracting Microscope, BAB is the convex lens, near which an object, PQ, is placed a little beyond its focal length. An inverted image, pq, will then be formed. This image is produced in the convex lens, bab′, and when the rays are reflected out they are parallel, and are distinctly seen. So the eye of the observer at the point E will see a magnified image of the object at PQ brought up to pq (fig. 155).

Fig. 155.—The Microscope lenses.

Sir Isaac Newton suggested the Reflecting Microscope, and Dr. Wollaston and Sir David Brewster improved the instrument called the “Periscopic Microscope,” in which two hemispherical lenses were cemented together by the plane surfaces, and having a “stop” between them to limit the aperture. Then the “Achromatic” instrument came into use, and since then the Microscope has gradually attained perfection.

Fig. 156.—Concave lens.

We have so frequently mentioned lenses that it may be as well to say something about them. Lenses may be spherical, double-convex, plane-convex, plane-concave, double-concave, and concave-convex. Convex lenses bring the parallel lines which strike them to a focus, as we see in the “burning-glass.” The concave or hollow lens appears as in fig. 156. The rays that follow it parallel to its axis are refracted, and as if they came from a point F in the diagram. But converging rays falling on it emerge in a parallel direction as above, or diverge as in fig. 158.

Fig. 157.

1. Focus of parallel rays. 2. Focus of divergent rays. 3. Focus of divergent rays brought forward by more convex lens.

The use of spectacles to long or short-sighted people is a necessity, and the lenses used vary. The eye has usually the capacity of suiting itself to viewing objects—its accommodation, as it is termed—near or far. But when the forepart of the eye is curved, and cannot adapt itself to distant objects, the person is said to be short-sighted. In long sight the axis of the eyeball is too short, and the focus falls beyond the retina; in short sight it is too long. In the diagrams herewith fig. 159 shows by the dotted lines the position of the retina in long sight, and fig. 160 in short sight, the clear lines showing in each case the perfectly-formed eye. For long sight and old sight the double-convex glass is used, for short sight the double-concave (fig. 162). We know the burning-glass gives us a small image of the sun as it converges the rays to its focus. But lenses will do more than this, and in the Photographic Camera we find great interest and amusement.

Fig. 158.—Diverging rays.

Photography (or writing by light) depends upon the property which certain preparations possess of being blackened by exposure to light while in contact with matter. By an achromatic arrangement of lenses the camera gives us a representation of the desired object Fig. 163 shows the image on the plate, and figs. 164 and 165 the arrangement of lenses.

Fig. 159.—Hypermetropia (long sight).. Fig. 160.—Myopia (short sight).

Fig. 161.—Concave and convex lenses.

Fig. 162.—Lenses for long and short sight.

To Porta, the Neapolitan physician, whose name we have already mentioned more than once, is due the first idea of the Photographic Camera. He found that if light was admitted through a small aperture, objects from which rays reached the hole would be reflected on the wall like a picture. To this fact we are indebted for the Camera Obscura, which receives the picture upon a plane surface by an arrangement of lenses. In fact, Porta nearly arrived at the Daguerreotype process. He thought he could teach people to draw by following the focussed picture with a crayon, but he could not conquer the aërial perspective.

So the camera languished till 1820, when Wedgwood and Sir Humphrey Davy attempted to obtain some views with nitrate of silver, but they became obliterated when exposed to the daylight.

Fig. 163.—The Camera.

As early as 1814, however, M. Niepce had made a series of experiments in photography, and subsequently having heard that M. Daguerre was turning his attention to the same subject, he communicated with him. In 1827 a paper was read before the Royal Society, and in 1829 a partnership deed was drawn up between Daguerre and Niepce for “copying engravings by photography.” Daguerre worked hard, and at length succeeded in obtaining a picture by a long process, to which, perhaps, some of our readers are indebted for their likenesses forty years ago. By means of iodine evaporated on a metal plate covered with “gold-yellow,” and exposing the plate then in a second box to mercurial vapour, he marked the image in the camera, and then he immersed the plate in hyposulphate of soda, and was able to expose the image obtained to daylight.

Fig. 164. Arrangement of lenses Fig. 165.

But the mode now in use is the “collodion” process. We have all seen the photographer pouring the iodized collodion on the plate, and letting the superfluous liquid drain from a corner of the glass. When it is dry the glass-plate is dipped into a solution of nitrate of silver, and then in a few minutes the glass is ready. The focus is then arranged, and the prepared plate conveyed in a special slide—to keep it from the light—to the camera. When the “patient” is ready, the covering of the lens is removed, and the light works the image into the sensitive plate. The impression is then “brought up,” and when developed is washed in water, and after by a solution which dissolves all the silver from the parts not darkened by the light. Thus the negative is obtained and printed from in the usual manner.

Instantaneous photography is now practised with great success. An express train, or the movements of a horse at full speed, can thus be taken in a second or less. These results are obtained by using prepared plates, and the “emulsion process,” as it is called, succeeds admirably. The mode of preparation is given in a late work upon the subject, and the photographic plates may also be obtained ready for use. Gelatine and water, mixed with bromide of ammonium, nitrate of silver, and carbonate of ammonium, mixed with certain proportions of water, form the “emulsion.” We need not go into all the details here. Information can easily be obtained from published works, and as the plates can be purchased by amateurs, they will find that the best way.

Aside from the art interest in the new plates is quite another, that springs from the fact that it is now possible to take pictures of men, animals, and machinery in rapid motion, thus enabling us to view them in a way that would be impossible with the unaided eye. The first experiments in this direction were applied to the movements of a horse moving at full speed. The pictures, taken in series, showed that he performed muscular actions that were not before comprehended or even imagined. These pictures at the time attracted great attention, and instantaneous pictures have been since taken of dancers in a ball-room, of vessels and steam-boats in rapid movement, of all kinds of animals in motion, and of machinery in operation. As the pictures represent the movements at one instant of time, they give, as it were, a fixed view of a motion, precisely as if it were suddenly arrested in full action. In the case of animals, the motions of the nostrils are represented in the most singular manner, and the spokes of a steam-boat’s paddle-wheel are shown apparently perfectly still while the spray and waves appear in active motion, or, rather, as they would look if they could be instantly frozen. It is clear the new process and pictures will open a wide and instructive field in art and in the study of mechanical action.

While on the subject of Photography we may mention a very ingenious little apparatus called a Scenograph, the invention of Dr. Candize. It is really a pocket-camera, and is so easily manipulated that it will be found a most pleasant and useful holiday companion. Any one may obtain good results with it, and friends of ours have had occasion to put it in practice during a series of excursions, when it was found to answer in every instance.

The Scenograph is something like a common Stereoscope in outward appearance, and would, perhaps, be at first regarded as a mere toy, did not a more intimate acquaintance prove it a great acquisition, particularly to explorers and tourists. The tripod stand which supports the apparatus is, when not in actual use in that capacity, a very excellent walking-stick, in which the two other “legs” are carried. The instrument, as will be perceived from the illustration (fig. 166), is very handy. It produces pictures about the “cabinet” size, and the whole is so arranged that it can be packed and carried in the pocket with ease.

Fig. 166.—The Scenograph.

Photography, as a rule, necessitates a dark room or cabinet, and many preparations as we all know—a “messing” about with chemicals and considerable practice before we can become proficient; so it is not surprising that few amateurs take to it—they prefer to purchase the pictures. But in the new apparatus of which we are speaking, the glass plates are already prepared to receive the image. It is not at all necessary for the operator to stain his fingers and knuckles and nails with nitrate of silver, or any other “chemicals” whatever. He just inserts the plate in the Scenograph, and then his apparatus being steadily set up, he removes the covering from the lens. To develop the image (in the dusk of the evening or by candle-light) it is necessary to put some drops of ammonia in a saucer, breathe upon the plate so as to soften the collodion, and hold it above the ammonia, and then, under the influence of the vapour, the picture will appear. After this simple operation the picture will be found fixed for a lengthened period—practically indefinitely. Thus on the return of the pedestrian he can reproduce, at small expense, a whole series of little pictures faithfully representing his holiday tour. The illustration shows a small apparatus by which on thin plates small photographs can be taken and fixed till it is found desirable to enlarge them.

The Photophone, one of the most recent contributions to science, is an instrument which, in combination with the telephone principle, makes it possible to convey sounds by means of a ray of light, and by means of a quivering beam “to produce articulate speech at a distance. The success of the Photophone depends upon a rare element, selenium, which has its “electrical resistance” affected by light. Professor Adams demonstrated that the resistance of selenium was reduced just in proportion as the intensity of the light which was acting upon it. Here was the key to the Photophone as thought out by Professor Bell. He fancied that he might by means of his telephone produce sound if he could vary the intensity of the beam of light upon the selenium, which he connected with his telephone and battery.

The Photophone consists of a transmitter for receiving the voice and conveying it along the beam of light, and a receiver for taking the light and converting it into sound—the receiver being the telephone. There is a small mirror (silvered mica has been used) suspended freely for vibration. A lens is used to transmit to this the beam of light, and this beam is again reflected by another lens to the receiver, which consists of a reflector which has a cell of selenium in its focus, connected, as already stated, with the telephone and battery. The speaker stands behind the mirror, and the sound of his voice against the reverse side makes it vibrate in unison with the sounds uttered. The movements cause a quivering in the reflected beam, and this in its changing intensity acts on the selenium, which changes its resistance accordingly, and through the telephone gives forth a sound!

This is the apparently complicated but really simple, and at the same time wonderful, invention of Professor Bell. By the Photophone not only sounds but movements can be converted into sound; even the burning of a candle can be heard! The Photophone is still capable of improvement, and has not as yet arrived at its full development, for it is stated it can be made quite independent of a battery or telephone.

There are many phenomena connected with the Polarization of Light. This requires some notice at our hands. We know that a ray of ordinary light is supposed to be caused by vibrations of the highly attenuated medium, æther. These vibrations occur across the direction of the ray; but when they occur only in one plane the light is said to be “polarized.” Polarization means possessing poles (like a magnet); the polarized rays have “sides,” as Newton said, or, as explained by Dr. Whewell, “opposite properties in opposite directions, so exactly equal as to be capable of accurately neutralizing each other.” There are some crystals which possess the property of “double refraction,” and thus a ray of common light passing through such a crystal is divided into two polarized rays, taking different directions. One is refracted according to the usual laws of refraction; the other is not, and the planes of polarization are at right angles. It is difficult within the limits of this chapter to explain the whole theory of Polarization. In order to account for certain phenomena in optics, philosophers have assumed that rays possess polarity; and polarized light is light which has had the property of Polarization conferred upon it by reflection, refraction, or absorption. Common light has been compared to a round ruler, and polarized light to a flat ribbon. Huygens found out, when engaged upon the investigation of double refraction, that the rays of light, divided by passing through a crystal (a rhomb) of Iceland spar, possessed certain qualities. When he passed them through a second rhomb, he found that the brightness, relatively, of the rays depended upon the position of the second prism, and in some positions one ray disappeared entirely. The light had been reduced to vibrations in one plane. In 1808, Malus, happening to direct a double refracting prism to the windows then reflecting the sunset, found that as he turned the prism round, the ordinary image of the window nearly disappeared in two opposite positions; and in two other positions, at right angles, the “extraordinary” image nearly vanished. So he found that polarization was produced by reflection as well as by transmission. The differences between common and polarized light have been summed up by Mr. Goddard as follows:—