Sir John Herschel, in enumerating at the close of his inestimable “Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy” the causes of the rapid development of the physical sciences in modern times, assigns a prominent place to the improvement of scientific apparatus, especially of those instruments by which exact measurements or observations are made. The accurate and elaborate instruments which serve for the delicate and precise determinations and observations of modern science require for their production a very advanced state of mechanical art, such as is indicated by the perfection of the tools we described in a former article; and these tools are themselves, on the other hand, the outcome of accurate knowledge, and another proof of the interaction between science and practical art. Since precise observations and accurate measurements form the essential bases of every science, its progress will be accelerated by every improvement in its instruments which increases their delicacy and exactness. Indeed, hardly any branch of knowledge becomes entitled to be called a science until it rests upon quantitative data of some kind. Chemistry was nothing but a confused collection of vague notions until the exact determinations of the balance were employed, and the proportions of the substances combining or separating in chemical actions were found to be related by certain simple and very definite laws. In all branches of inquiry there is the same necessity of quantitative comparisons: lengths, The obvious advantage of a recording instrument (say, for example, such a one as that represented in Fig. 314, which registers the force and direction of the wind) is that the results are obtained without the immediate attention of an observer, and they can be continuously recorded at every instant, day and night; but there is another and yet greater advantage in certain kinds of instruments which write their own records, in the fact that they can be made to register results which would altogether escape direct observation. It is said that a practised astronomical observer will correctly record the time of a phenomenon to nearly the tenth of a second; but there are cases in which we may desire to estimate time to the thousandth part of a second or less. An investigation of M. Foucault has already been named in which a far less interval of time was concerned (page 387); but the recording instruments we have to mention here are of use for enabling us to make certain instantaneous actions mark the time of their occurrence with the greatest precision, and also for enabling us to note the variations in actions which are too rapid to be directly observed in their various phases. Fig. 315 is a diagram which will serve to explain the method in which the height of the barometer and the thermometer are registered in the ingenious metereograph, invented by Professor Hough, of Dudley Observatory. The contrivance has the advantage of performing the operation for both instruments, with a single piece of mechanism and on the same sheet of paper. The diagram is not intended to indicate the actual arrangement of the parts of the apparatus, but merely to explain the principle of its action. Let A represent a cylinder about 6 in. in diameter and 7 in. high, covered with a sheet of paper, ruled with certain lines, some parallel to the axis, and others perpendicular to those. This drum revolves by clockwork, controlled by a pendulum, at a certain regular rate of, say, one turn in seven days. B is a metallic bar or lever, about 2 ft. in length, mounted on an axis or fulcrum at C. At D is a pencil or style projecting from the extremity of the bar opposite the centre of the drum, but not in actual contact with the paper. E and F are platinum wires attached to the lever at about 3 in. distance from the fulcrum, C; E passes into the open tube of a mercurial thermometer, G, and F into the shorter branch of a syphon barometer, H. The clockwork has other offices to perform besides turning the drum, A, on its axis; and one of these is to alternately elevate and depress the lever, B, every half-hour. If the end, F, be depressed, it is plain that the wire will come into contact with the metallic float, which is supported by the mercury and follows its movements. If, therefore, wires from a battery, K, including an electro-magnet, I, in their circuit, be connected with the bar at C, and with the mercury at H, when the wire at F touches the float, the current will pass and the armature of the electro-magnet will Fig. 315.—Registration of Height of Barometer and Thermometer. The instrument, as actually constructed, registers also the height of a wet-bulb thermometer, by another wire requiring a lower depression of the lever to bring it into contact with the mercury in a wet-bulb thermometer. A complete double motion of the lever requires one hour, and in that interval the heights of the barometer and both thermometers are each recorded once. The wet and dry-bulb thermometers are registered within a minute of each other, and half an hour elapses between the barometer and thermometer records. Another invention of Professor Hough’s is a barometer which marks a continuous pencil-line on a revolving cylinder, by which the variations of the mercury are shown for every instant of the day. Another part of the arrangement is a machine for automatically printing on paper in ordinary characters the height of the mercury to the thousandth part of an inch. Fig. 314 represents part of another ingenious meteorological instrument invented by Mr. J. E. H. Gordon, and made by Mr. Apps. It is an electrical anemometer, for indicating and registering the direction and force of the wind. The apparatus consists of an external portion, which is of course fixed on some high and exposed part of the building; and the indicating and registering instrument, which communicates with the former only by insulated wires connected with a galvanic battery, and which may be placed on any convenient table within the house. The registering apparatus in this instrument is very neat and compact, and the reader will no doubt be able to form a sufficiently good idea of its nature from the portion which is visible in the cut, and from the knowledge of similar apparatus he may have derived from the descriptions already given in the article on the electric telegraph. Modes of making phenomena record the time and duration of their own occurrence are now much used in all scientific investigations; and in connection with the electric chronograph or chronoscope which we are about to describe, few more efficient or elegant methods of “interrogating nature”—to use Bacon’s phrase—have yet been devised. The reader who has never seen an instrument of this kind will be the better able to understand its principle by a simple illustration, which may very easily be made a practical one by himself if he has a tuning-fork at hand. Let him fix the tuning-fork firmly into a board in an upright position, by inserting the part usually held in the hand into a hole in the board; and then attach to the fork, by means of a little bees’-wax, a short bristle, which is to project from the extremity of one prong in a direction perpendicular to the plane in which the prongs vibrate. He has now only to provide himself with a piece of glass a few inches square in order to obtain a record of the vibrations of the fork when sounding. By the help of another piece of board it will be easy to arrange a guide by which the piece of glass can be made to fall down by its own weight in a plane parallel to the prongs, and in such a manner that the free end of the bristle shall just touch its surface during the whole time of its descent. Now let the surface of the glass be blackened in the flame of a candle. If the glass be allowed to slide down when the fork is not vibrating, the end of the bristle, by removing the lampblack from the surface as the glass falls, would trace out a vertical line. If, on the other hand, the blackened surface were itself not moved, but simply brought into contact with the end of the bristle, while the fork was sounding, there would be marked only a very short horizontal line, corresponding with the extent of the vibratory movements of the prong. When the glass is allowed to fall while the prong is in motion, the combination of the horizontal movements of the bristle, and the vertical one of the glass, will produce a waved line, which will exhibit perfectly regular curves if the glass has been moved with uniform velocity. It is plain that if the time taken by the glass to pass in front of the bristle were accurately known, the number of movements per second executed by the prong of Fig. 316.—The Electric Chronograph. Fig. 316 represents the apparatus as actually constructed. A is the cylinder covered with the blackened paper, and driven by clockwork contained in the case, B, the rate of movement being regulated by the conical pendulum at C, so as to be approximately uniform. D is a lever for starting and stopping the movement. The clockwork also causes the carriage, E, to slide along the bars, F. This carriage bears three electro-magnets, The third electro-magnet of the apparatus represented in Fig. 316 is acted on by currents through the wires, G, H. The point attached to its armature traces a plain spiral line on the revolving cylinder, except at the instant when the current is established or interrupted. And the phenomenon to be timed is in some way made to accomplish the making and breaking of this circuit. This may be perhaps better understood by an example. It has sometimes happened that the boxes employed in the pneumatic dispatch stick fast in the tubes, and resist all efforts to dislodge them by manoeuvres with the compressed or rarefied air, or other means. In such a case it becomes necessary to ascertain with tolerable accuracy the position of the obstruction, so that the tube may be cut at the right place and the obstacle removed. The known velocity of sound has been ingeniously used for this purpose; the electric chronograph being made A very interesting application of the electric chronograph is to the measurement of the velocities of projectiles. The science of gunnery has acquired an exactness unknown before electricity was made to carry messages from the cannon-ball in its swiftest flight, and to write the record of its own course. Instruments for thus measuring the velocities of projectiles have been contrived by several electricians, among whom Wheatstone appears to have been the first. The principle in most of these chronographs is precisely the same as that on which the apparatus represented in Fig. 316 is constructed. The action of the projectile which is electrically indicated is the severing of a slender wire, which is stretched from side to side of a wooden frame, so that it passes continuously backwards and forwards in parallel lines. Thus a kind of screen is formed, through which the missile must pass, and in its passage must rupture the wire. If the wire conveys a current of electricity, this current is therefore interrupted at the moment the ball passes. Sometimes the immediate effect of the breaking of the wire is mechanical, as in Wheatstone’s arrangement, where the wire is stretched by a weight over a series of pulleys, and attached to a contact-maker, which completes the circuit when it is set free by the rupture of the wire. A similar arrangement in the screens has been proposed by Mr. Siemens for the establishment of circuits in connection with charged Leyden jars, the sparks of the discharges being made to take place at the surface of a revolving cylinder of polished steel, where the place is shown by the spot they leave on the metal. M. Pouillet’s chronoscope dispenses with the revolving cylinder, and measures the duration of the current established by the projectile at one part of its course and cut off at another, by the arc through which the needle of a galvanometer is impelled. The instrument which has been most employed in this country by artillerists is that invented by Professor Bashforth. Its indications are extremely accurate, for readings may be taken to the two-thousandth part of a second. From ten to fifteen screens are placed in the path of the projectile at distances asunder which may vary from 15 ft. to 150 ft., but which, of course, are carefully measured. Each screen is formed of a wire To record the instant at which a projectile passes determined points in a cannon’s bore, lateral plugs are screwed in, each having, just projecting into the bore, a small steel ball, which, pressed outwards by the passing projectile, causes a cutter to divide the primary wire of a Ruhmkorff coil, whereupon the spark that passes in the secondary circuit leaves its record on a uniformly moving disc. Each plug has its own battery, coil, and disc. A special feature of recording instruments may be exemplified by certain applications of the principle to the investigation of physiological actions. A skilled physician is often able to detect in the pulse of his patient certain characteristics besides the mere rate, which are highly significant as regards the condition of the circulatory system. The range of these indications has been greatly extended by an instrument invented by MM. Chauveau and Marey, by which the pulse is made to write down a graphic representation of its action. The patient’s arm having been placed on a suitable support, a little stud covered with soft leather is lightly pressed against the artery by a spring. The stud is in contact with the shorter end of a very light lever, the other extremity of which is furnished with a point, which registers its movements on a cylinder of blackened metal, made to rotate and advance longitudinally by clockwork; or the record is taken on strips of flat smoked glass. As the motion is much magnified by the lever, every variation in the pressure of the blood in the artery during the beat of the pulse is distinctly and faithfully indicated. From the line so traced the physician may obtain infallible data for judging of the condition of the heart, the action of its valves, &c. It is marvellous to observe the manner in which the curves of the sphygmograph, as the instrument is termed, change their form when certain drugs are administered: the change in some cases occurs immediately, so that the eye can detect by the inspection of the sphygmographic curve almost the instant at which the Fig. 317.—Negretti’s Deep-Sea Thermometer. Another instrument which is doing good service in the hands of medical investigators is the spirograph, in which the rise and fall of the chest in breathing are similarly traced by the motions of a lever. In this instrument a small pad, which presses on the chest, communicates its movements to an elastic membrane, which, like the skin of a drumhead, covers one end of a cylindrical box maintained in a fixed position relatively to the person of the patient. The air in this box is in communication, by means of a flexible tube, with the interior of another similarly closed box; the elastic membrane of the latter acts against the short end of a lever, which is made to register its movements as in the sphygmograph, for the compression of the air caused by the rise of the chest is conveyed to the second box through the flexible tube. The curves furnished by this instrument also give valuable indications, and exhibit marked changes under any influence in the least degree affecting the respiratory system. The value of a self-registering instrument for solving problems, the intricacy of which is increased by the multiplicity and rapidity of the actions to be observed, cannot be better illustrated than by the success with which Professor Marey has thus studied some complicated actions of locomotion, as related in his extremely interesting work entitled, “La Machine Animale,” a translation of which has appeared in “The International Series.” The action of the horse in the various paces, walking, trotting, galloping, &c., has been an endless subject of discussion, with no other data than the shoe-marks left in soft ground, and the general appearance of the animal’s movements to an observer. But M. Marey—by means of elastic bags containing air, communicating the pressure through flexible tubes, so as to move little levers, which write their traces on a revolving cylinder impelled by clockwork, and carried by the rider,—has completely and finally settled all the points in dispute. It is now definitely known how the horse’s feet are placed on the ground in each of his paces, and the actual and relative time that each foot remains down. The instruments are also made to register the vertical movements of the animal, so that a complete record of its motion can be obtained. Fig. 318.—Negretti’s Deep-Sea Thermometer, general arrangement. It was long a difficulty to obtain data as to the temperature of the sea at great depths below the surface. It is obvious that the ordinary maximum and minimum registering thermometers would not give the temperature at any particular depth to which they might be submerged, In the first place it must be observed that the bulb of the thermometer is protected so as to resist the pressure of the ocean, which varies according to depth, that of 3,000 fathoms being something like 3 tons pressure on the square inch. The new instrument is in shape like a syphon with parallel legs, all in one piece, and having a continuous communication, as shown in Fig. 317. The scale of the thermometer is pivoted on a centre, and being attached in a vertical position to a simple apparatus (which will be presently described), is lowered to any depth that may be desired. In its descent the thermometer acts as an ordinary instrument, the mercury rising or falling according to the temperature of the stratum through which it passes; but so soon as the descent ceases, and a reverse motion is given to the line, so as to pull the thermometer towards the surface, the instrument turns once on its centre, first bulb uppermost, and afterwards bulb downwards. This causes the mercury, which was in the left-hand column, first to pass into the dilated syphon-bend at the top, and thence into the right-hand tube, where it remains, indicating on a graduated scale the exact temperature at the time the thermometer was turned over. The cut shows the position of the mercury after the instrument has been turned on Fig. 319.—The Atmospheric Recording Instrument. The contrivance for turning the thermometer over at the bottom of the sea may be described as a vertical propeller, to which the instrument is pivoted. So long as the instrument is descending the propeller is lifted out of gear and revolves free; but as soon as the ascent commences, the action is reversed, the propeller falls into gear with a pinion connected with the thermometer, and by these means the thermometer is turned over, and after one turn it remains locked and immovable. The engraving, Fig. 318, shows the general arrangement, T being the thermometer, S a metal screw connected with the frame of the thermometer by a wheel-and-pinion movement at W; S† is the stop for arresting the movement of the thermometer when it has made one complete turn. The reader can hardly fail to perceive that powerful aid to the investigation of the laws of nature must be afforded by such instruments as we have described. And we have but taken an example here and there of the scientific uses of the recording principle, selecting those that are most readily understood, or that are connected with matters coming home to the business and bosom of every one. The science of meteorology does not deal with subjects which furnish merely amusing speculation for the hour. Forecasts of storms and cyclones would often save many lives and much valuable property; and our dependence upon meteorological conditions cannot be more forcibly illustrated than by reference to the disastrous floods which this year (1875) desolated some districts of France. Meteorology has received a great impulse from the introduction of recording instruments; and the vast number of results which are now hourly recorded must lead to the certain development of the science, and its reduction to exact laws. For even the winds obey laws—laws as definite as those which control the motions of the planets; and could we but take into account the whole of the circumstances upon which the movements and other conditions of the atmosphere depend, we should be able to forecast the weather with the same certainty as—thanks to the great and simple law of gravitation—we predict eclipses or other astronomical phenomena. Already, by aid of the telegraph, it is often possible to send a day’s warning of approaching storms to localities lying in their probable track. The Signal Service, which is a Department of the United States War Office, has a corps of meteorological observers spread over the length and breadth of the States, who send every eight hours, to a Central Office in Washington, a report of the force and direction of the wind, height of the barometer, &c. The officer at Washington sends back by telegraph to the public press a synopsis of each day’s weather, and points out what weather will probably follow; but if any city or port be threatened with a storm, special telegrams are sent. Thus, a warning of the approach of a great storm, which entered the American continent at San Francisco on the 22nd Feb., 1871, was sent to Cheyenne, Omaha, and Chicago, twenty-four hours before the storm reached these cities, which it was foreseen lay in its track. Although the hurricane did much damage at some of these places, it would probably have been far more destructive had not the inhabitants been prepared for its approach. An elegant form of barograph or recording barometer has been brought out, which is small, but sufficiently accurate for all ordinary purposes. It is founded on the aneroid, which, as everybody knows, is an instrument for indicating atmospheric pressure by the changes of form it produces in a thin circular metallic box, partially exhausted of air. The ordinary form THE PHONOGRAPH.Everything yet contrived in the way of recording instruments is eclipsed in wonder and interest by one which is among the latest marvels of the age. It is a recording instrument, and more than a recording instrument, for it can reproduce to the senses the very phenomena it records; and these same phenomena are the most familiar in their effects, and, at the same time, so subtle and delicate, that the impressions they convey are not generally thought of otherwise than in connection with our finest intellectual and emotional perceptions. We are alluding to the phonograph, which can register for us music and song, and articulate human speech in all their tones and modulations, and, like an aËrial spirit, address them to the ear again, as often as we wish, and thus Inform the cell of hearing, dark and blind; Intricate labyrinth, more dread for thought To enter than oracular cave, Strict passage through which sighs are brought, And whispers for the heart, their slave; And shrieks, that revel in abuse Of shivering flesh; and warbled air, Whose piercing sweetness can unloose The chains of frenzy, or entice a smile Into the ambush of despair; Hosannas pealing down the long-drawn aisle, And requiems answered by the pulse that beats Devoutly, in life’s last retreats! In order that the reader may understand the action of the phonograph, it is necessary that he should know something of the science of sound. Then we must remember that this word is commonly used to express sometimes those sensations of which the ear is the organ, and at other times the external cause of those sensations. It is with the former meaning that we use such expressions as “a sweet sound”; with the latter, such phrases as “sound travels.” It will not be necessary to speak of the physiology of the organ of hearing; but attention should be directed to the different kinds of audible perceptions we can distinguish, let us suppose, when listening to a song: First, there is the pitch, or the notes in the musical scale, which, by their particular sequence, constitute the air or melody. Second, there is the degree of loudness or lowness of the notes. Third, the enunciation, or those differences by which we distinguish, for That the source of a sustained sound is an elastic body in a state of vibration is a fact of which, in most cases, we are easily made aware by the evidence of sight and touch; as a bell, a violoncello string, a pianoforte wire, or a tuning-fork. On p. 656 is described a simple method by which a tuning-fork may be made to write down its own vibrations, and the more exact plan of recording them on the surface of blackened paper on a revolving and advancing cylinder has also been referred to. By the intervention of appropriate apparatus, a similar record may be obtained from all sounding bodies. From observations of this kind, and others in which totally different methods are used for counting the number of vibrations per vibrations made in a given time, it is known that the pitch of the sound or note depends on the rapidity of the vibrations—the pitch rises with the number of them per second, and the relationship between the notes of a musical scale depends entirely on these numbers. Thus, when the vibrations for the eight notes of an octave are counted, the numbers always have this proportion, beginning from the lowest note-–24, 27, 30, 32, 36, 40, 45, 48. Thus of the two notes— as produced on musical instruments tuned to the concert pitch of the present day, the lower corresponds with 264 complete vibrations per second, the higher with 528. It will be observed, too, that all the harmonies are determined by some simple ratio in the rates of vibration: the interval of the fourth is 3, 4; that of the fifth is 2, 3, etc. Another easily discoverable fact is that the loudness of the sound depends upon the amplitude of the vibrations. This is sufficiently obvious by a few experiments with a tuning fork; and by close examination of such tracings as have been mentioned, we shall soon become aware of another circumstance—namely, that the vibrations not simple, but that the larger or general movement has one or more sets of small vibrations within it. In Fig. 319a, A is the curve that would be traced by the tuning-fork in a state of simple vibration; B and C are tracing such as are given by a fork in two of its modes of vibration. The fork gives out its proper or fundamental note in both cases; but the ear recognizes a difference in the quality of the sound due to the smaller and more numerous vibrations. Differences of the same kind are recognized in the notes produced by different musical instruments; but these are usually more complicated, and their forms are characteristic of the particular quality of the tone, Fig. 319a.—Traces of Vibrations of a Tuning-Fork. Fig. 319b.—Phonautographic Tracings of Different Vowel Sounds. Fig. 319c.—Diagram. Fig. 319d.—Phases of Sound Waves. A word or two must be said as to the way in which sound is transmitted through the air. This progression is commonly spoken of as a wave motion, but it must not be thought of as taking place in the form familiar to us as waves on water; still less must the reader confound it with the sinuous lines shown in the graphical representations of vibrations given in the figures. It is rather a series of rapid pulsations of the particles of the air taking place in the direction in which the sound is propagated, and resembling waves on water only by presenting periodical phases in uniform succession. The difference may be illustrated from what may be seen in a field of wheat when the wind is blowing over it. The stalks bend down, and rise again when the breeze has passed, and thus the general appearance of the waves of the sea is produced. If we confine our attention, however, to the motion of the several ears of the wheat in a file of stalks, we shall obtain a clearer notion of what takes place in the so-called waves of sound. The positions of the stalks at some one instant of time may be represented by the diagram, Fig. 319c. Each stalk is swinging backwards and forwards like an inverted pendulum, and the successive phases of these vibrations bring the adjacent ears nearest to each other about i, and farthest apart at a and a´. The places of these, and of all the intermediate degrees of approximation and retreat, pass along the file. Instead of the ears of wheat swinging on their elastic stalks, suppose particles of air approaching and receding by virtue of the elasticity by which they resist compression and recover from it, and you will obtain an elementary idea of what takes place in the transmission of sound. Fig. 319d is a picture of a column of air acted upon by a tuning-fork. The swiftly advancing prong is compressing the air in front of it, and in swinging back it will tend to leave a vacuum behind it by which the air is partially rarefied; and these alternate condensations and rarefactions will travel We have referred to instruments for registering sound, and even vocal sounds, before anything has been said of the construction of the phonograph, and it is, in fact, many years since the problem was solved of recording the vibrations produced by speech. Mr. Leo Scott, in 1856, invented an instrument, called the Phonautograph, which did this. It consisted of a cone of sheet zinc like a large ear-trumpet, across the smaller end of which was stretched a membrane, having attached to it a very light style, which left a record of the vibrations of the membrane on a blackened cylinder properly disposed to receive the tracing. When any sound was produced near the open end of the cone, the impulses reflected from its internal surface were concentrated on the membrane, throwing it into corresponding vibrations. Now, this process could be reversed if the tracing could be made to give back again to the style its original movements, these transferred to the membrane would throw the air within the cone into corresponding vibrations, and the sounds that gave rise to the tracing would be reproduced. Yet Mr. Scott seems to have suggested no such possibilities for his instrument; but a few years after the invention of the phonautograph, M. Cros deposited at the Academy of Sciences in Paris a sealed paper, which was opened after Mr. Edison had patented the phonograph (1877), and found to contain suggestions of how this might be done, but describing no experiments in which any approach had been made towards realizing the conditions laid down. To Mr. Edison belongs the honour of solving the problem by the invention of the phonograph, which was patented by him in 1877. The device which he happily hit upon for converting the phonautograph into a phonograph was very simple in principle, and consisting merely in substituting a sheet of tinfoil for the blackened paper in Scott’s apparatus, the mechanism required for reproducing articulate human speech was thus found, contrary to all expectations that had previously been entertained, to be essentially of a remarkably simple character, for the arrangement of the parts was even more direct than in the phonautograph itself. This is not derogatory to the merit of the inventor, for every invention depends upon something previously attained, and the discovery of suitable materials for the various parts of the machine, and the many delicate adjustments of their forms and disposition to secure the required object, demanded the application of very remarkable experimental skill. The phonograph differs from the phonautograph by giving up what it has registered in the original form and material, and thus it is a speaking machine. It is a Fig. 319e.—Edison’s Original Phonograph. Fig. 319f.—Diagrammatic Section of Phonograph. Fig. 319g.—The Graphophone. Fig. 319e shows the form of the phonograph as designed by Mr. Edison in 1877. It had a brass cylinder (A) upon which a narrow helical groove was cut, and was mounted upon an axle (B), having a narrow screw-thread corresponding with the groove on the cylinder, and working in the upright (C), so that when the handle was turned the cylinder revolved, and at the same time advanced in the direction of its axis. A heavy fly-wheel (D) was attached, in order that the rate of motion might be nearly uniform. A sheet of tinfoil, or of very thin copper, was wrapped round the brass cylinder, and on this metallic foil rested the steel point attached to the vibrating diaphragm, which was mounted in the ring (F). This point was always adjusted so as to be over the helical groove in the cylinder, and made to touch the tinfoil with a regulated pressure. E Fig. 319h.—Edison’s Perfected Phonograph. The capabilities of the phonograph suggest some curious applications that may be made of it. For example, the songs of a fine singer may thus, in all their modulations, reach people in distant lands, or be made audible to future generations. Thousands of people in England have heard with their ears, through Mr. Edison’s instruments lately brought over by Col. Gournaud, songs and speeches, and pieces of concerted music, sung, said, or played in America months before. Music can be bottled up, so to speak, without the consent of the originators; and, indeed, it is said that an eminent prima donna has applied for an injunction to restrain certain phonographers from reproducing her vocal triumphs with their instruments. A speech of Mr. Gladstone’s, delivered in England, has been phonographically heard in New York with great applause. There is no reason but what, with a loud speaking phonograph uttering an orator’s very words and tones, while instantaneous photographs of his successive gestures and attitudes are projected on a screen, a true and lively impression of his eloquence might be conveyed centuries after his decease. One is almost led to speculate as to the consequences if these nineteenth century inventions had been antedated by a few thousand years: what stores of knowledge we might now possess! and how pleasant it would be thus To hear each voice we feared to hear no more! Behold each mighty shade revealed to sight, The Bactrian, Samian sage, and all who taught the right! Fig. 320.—The Domestic Aquarium. |