EZ Plugin
Regular
Regular
Medium
Medium
SemiBold
SemiBold
Bold
Bold
Regular
Structural
Rhythm
Radiant
Radiant
When a curved tube of the shape here described is subjected to a greater pressure on the inside than on the outside, it tends to become straighter, and the end E moves outward; but when the pressure is removed, the tube resumes its former shape. The graduations on the scale are made by marking the position of the index when known pressures are applied. The amounts of pressure, when the gauges are being graduated, are known by the compression produced in air contained in another apparatus. Gauges constructed on Bourdon’s principle are applied to other purposes, and can be made strong enough to measure very great pressures, such as several thousand pounds on the square inch; they may also be made so delicate as to measure variations of pressure below that of the atmosphere. The simplicity and small size of these gauges, and the readiness with which they can be attached, render them most convenient instruments wherever the pressure of a gas or liquid is required to be known.
To appreciate them let us briefly contrast the conditions of to-day with those of a hundred years ago. This is no easy task, for the comparison not only involves the experiences of two generations, but it is like the juxtaposition of a star with the noonday sun, whose superior brilliancy obliterates the lesser light. But reverse the wheels of progress, and let us make a quick run of one hundred years into the past, and what are our experiences? Before we get to our destination we find the wheels themselves beginning to thump and jolt, and the passage becomes more difficult, more uncomfortable, and so much slower. We are no longer gliding along in a luxurious palace car behind a magnificent locomotive, traveling on steel rails, at sixty miles an hour, but we find ourselves nearing the beginning of the Nineteenth Century in a rickety, rumbling, dusty stage-coach. Pause! and consider the change for a moment in some of its broader aspects. First, let us examine the present more closely, for the average busy man, never looking behind him for comparisons, does not fully appreciate or estimate at its real value the age in which he lives.
To appreciate them let us briefly contrast the conditions of to-day with those of a hundred years ago. This is no easy task, for the comparison not only involves the experiences of two generations, but it is like the juxtaposition of a star with the noonday sun, whose superior brilliancy obliterates the lesser light. But reverse the wheels of progress, and let us make a quick run of one hundred years into the past, and what are our experiences? Before we get to our destination we find the wheels themselves beginning to thump and jolt, and the passage becomes more difficult, more uncomfortable, and so much slower. We are no longer gliding along in a luxurious palace car behind a magnificent locomotive, traveling on steel rails, at sixty miles an hour, but we find ourselves nearing the beginning of the Nineteenth Century in a rickety, rumbling, dusty stage-coach. Pause! and consider the change for a moment in some of its broader aspects. First, let us examine the present more closely, for the average busy man, never looking behind him for comparisons, does not fully appreciate or estimate at its real value the age in which he lives.
It was quite natural that this spirit should call forth a somewhat vindictive feeling, and with it not a little uncandid as well as unsparing criticism. "The Doctrine of Colours" met with this reception in Germany long before it was noticed in England, where a milder and fairer treatment could hardly be expected, especially at a time when, owing perhaps to the limited intercourse with the continent, German literature was far less popular than it is at present. This last fact, it is true, can be of little importance in the present instance, for although the change of opinion with regard to the genius of an enlightened nation must be acknowledged to be beneficial, it is to be hoped there is no fashion in science, and the translator begs to state once for all, that in advocating the neglected merits of the "Doctrine of Colours," he is far from undertaking to defend its imputed errors. Sufficient time has, however, now elapsed since the publication of this work (in 1810) to allow a calmer and more candid examination of its claims. In this more pleasing task Germany has again for some time led the way, and many scientific investigators have followed up the hints and observations of Goethe with a due acknowledgment of the acuteness of his views.[2] It may require more magnanimity in English scientific readers to do justice to the merits of one who was so open and, in many respects, it is believed, so mistaken an opponent of Newton; but it must be admitted that the statements of Goethe contain more useful principles in all that relates to harmony of colour than any that have been derived from the established doctrine. It is no derogation of the more important truths of the Newtonian theory to say, that the views it contains seldom appear in a form calculated for direct application to the arts. The principle of contrast, so universally exhibited in nature, so apparent in the action and re-action of the eye itself, is scarcely hinted at. The equal pretensions of seven colours, as such, and the fanciful analogies which their assumed proportions could suggest, have rarely found favour with the votaries of taste,--indeed they have long been abandoned even by scientific authorities.[3] And here the translator stops: he is quite aware that the defects which make the Newtonian theory so little available for æsthetic application, are far from invalidating its more important conclusions in the opinion of most scientific men. In carefully abstaining therefore from any comparison between the two theories in these latter respects, he may still be permitted to advocate the clearness and fulness of Goethe's experiments. The German philosopher reduces the colours to their origin and simplest elements; he sees and constantly bears in mind, and sometimes ably elucidates, the phenomena of contrast and gradation, two principles which may be said to make up the artist's world, and to constitute the chief elements of beauty. These hints occur mostly in what may be called the scientific part of the work. On the other hand, in the portion expressly devoted to the æsthetic application of the doctrine, the author seems to have made but an inadequate use of his own principles. In that part of the chapter on chemical colours which relates to the colours of plants and animals, the same genius and originality which are displayed in the Essays on Morphology, and which have secured to Goethe undisputed rank among the investigators of nature, are frequently apparent. But one of the most interesting features of Goethe's theory, although it cannot be a recommendation in a scientific point of view, is, that it contains, undoubtedly with very great improvements, the general doctrine of the ancients and of the Italians at the revival of letters. The translator has endeavoured, in some notes, to point out the connexion between this theory and the practice of the Italian painters. The "Doctrine of Colours," as first published in 1810, consists of two volumes in 8vo., and sixteen plates, with descriptions, in 4to. It is divided into three parts, a didactic, a controversial, and an historical part; the present translation is confined to the first of these, with such extracts from the other two as seemed necessary, in fairness to the author, to explain some of his statements. The polemical and historical parts are frequently alluded to in the preface and elsewhere in the present work, but it has not been thought advisable to omit these allusions. No alterations whatever seem to have been made by Goethe in the didactic portion in later editions, but he subsequently wrote an additional chapter on entoptic colours, expressing his wish that it might be inserted in the theory itself at a particular place which he points out. The form of this additional essay is, however, very different from that of the rest of the work, and the translator has therefore merely given some extracts from it in the appendix. The polemical portion has been more than once omitted in later editions. In the two first parts the author's statements are arranged numerically, in the style of Bacon's Natural History. This, we are told, was for the convenience of reference; but many passages are thus separately numbered which hardly seem to have required it. The same arrangement is, however, strictly followed in the translation to facilitate a comparison with the original where it may be desired; and here the translator observes, that although he has sometimes permitted himself to make slight alterations, in order to avoid unnecessary repetition, or to make the author's meaning clearer, he feels that an apology may rather be expected from him for having omitted so little. He was scrupulous on this point, having once determined to translate the whole treatise, partly, as before stated, from a wish to deal fairly with a controversial writer, and partly because many passages, not directly bearing on the scientific views, are still characteristic of Goethe. The observations which the translator has ventured to add are inserted in the appendix: these observations are chiefly confined to such of the author's opinions and conclusions as have direct reference to the arts; they seldom interfere with the scientific propositions, even where these have been considered most vulnerable.
Medium
Density
Armature
Metallic
Metallic
Yet it is to be noticed that the earliest methods of locomotion, other than those purely muscular, such as walking and riding, knew nothing of wheels. Such methods depended primarily upon the enormously significant discovery that a man could drag a heavier weight than he could carry, and what applied to a man also applied to a beast. Possibly such discovery followed on the mere observation of objects being carried down the stream of some river, and perhaps a rudely constructed raft should be considered to be the earliest form of vehicle. From the raft proper to a raft to be used upon land was but a step, and the first land vehicle, whenever or wherever it was made, assuredly took a form which to this day is in common use in some countries. This was the sledge. On a sledge heavy loads could be dragged over the ground, and experience sooner or later must have shown what was the best form of apparatus for such work.
From the great rapidity with which the machinery of the locomotive moves, the different parts require to be carefully balanced in order to prevent dangerous oscillations. For example, the centrifugal force of the massive cranks, etc., is balanced by inserting between the spokes of the driving wheels certain counterpoises, the weights and positions of which are finally adjusted by trial. The engine is suspended by chains and set in motion, and a pencil attached to one corner of the frame marks on a horizontal card the form of the oscillation, usually by an oval figure. When the diameter of this figure is reduced to about 1/16 inch, the adjustment is considered complete. The power of a locomotive, of course, depends on the pressure of the steam and the size of the cylinder, &c.; but a very much lower limit than is imposed by these conditions is set to the power of the engine to draw loads by the adhesion between the driving wheels and the rails. By the term “adhesion,” which is commonly used in this case, nothing more is really meant than the friction between surfaces of iron. When the resistance of the load drawn is greater than this friction, the wheels turn round and slip on the rails without advancing.
From the great rapidity with which the machinery of the locomotive moves, the different parts require to be carefully balanced in order to prevent dangerous oscillations. For example, the centrifugal force of the massive cranks, etc., is balanced by inserting between the spokes of the driving wheels certain counterpoises, the weights and positions of which are finally adjusted by trial. The engine is suspended by chains and set in motion, and a pencil attached to one corner of the frame marks on a horizontal card the form of the oscillation, usually by an oval figure. When the diameter of this figure is reduced to about 1/16 inch, the adjustment is considered complete. The power of a locomotive, of course, depends on the pressure of the steam and the size of the cylinder, &c.; but a very much lower limit than is imposed by these conditions is set to the power of the engine to draw loads by the adhesion between the driving wheels and the rails. By the term “adhesion,” which is commonly used in this case, nothing more is really meant than the friction between surfaces of iron. When the resistance of the load drawn is greater than this friction, the wheels turn round and slip on the rails without advancing.
Such axle and wheels would revolve together and keep the required position by means of pieces of wood which may be compared with the thole-pins of a boat. And it is a remarkable fact that until last century such primitive carts were in use in Portugal and parts of South America. The chief drawback to a vehicle of this kind is its inability to turn in a small space, and the pioneers, whoever they were, finally discovered the principle of the fixed axle-tree, the wheels revolving upon their own centre. So, “instead of fixing the cross-beam or axle in a square hole,” these pioneers “would contrive it to play easily in a round one of a conical form, that being the easiest form of adjustment.” Such a car as this, with solid wheels and a rude frame, was used by the Romans, and is still to be seen in parts of Chili. The next process in the evolution of the wheel doubtless followed upon the necessity of economising with large sections of wood, and there was finally invented a wheel made of three portions—a central pierced part, the nave, an outside circular piece, the rim or felloe, and two or more cross-pieces, joining the two, the spokes. The first of these steamers, the SWIFTSURE, was 140 feet over all, with a beam of 24 feet. On her maiden voyage she made the passage from Montreal to Quebec in twenty-two and a half hours, in the face of a strong easterly wind all the way. Notwithstanding that she “beat the most famous of the sailing packets on the line (fourteen hours in a race of thirty-six hours), her owners do not seem to have been very confident of her movements under all circumstances, or of the number of passengers who would patronise her, for she was advertised to sail ‘as the wind and passengers may suit. My old newspaper in the Midwest made another people-type mistake, letting a computer expert befuddle staffers with technical jargon. A white-haired editor suffered especially. Although he knew his town better than did just about any other newsman and had been a fixture in the scruffy city rooms since World War II, the paper exiled him from the copy desk after the training program failed him. His health gave out amid the strain, and he ended up on extended sick leave, done in partly by the course’s scary talk of bits and bytes. You use a calculator without being—as one man put it—“calculator literate.” Why must you be “computer literate”? Be so if you’re an aspiring programmer or if you enjoy computers as a hobby. If, however, you don’t, well, forget it. Instead, simply concentrate on (1) finding the right experts for the grubby technical chores and (2) helping yourself and your employees learn the programs of use on the job. It may be added that this volume is issued with Mr. Tesla's sanction and approval, and that permission has been obtained for the re-publication in it of such papers as have been read before various technical societies of this country and Europe. Mr. Tesla has kindly favored the author by looking over the proof sheets of the sections embodying his latest researches. The work has also enjoyed the careful revision of the author's friend and editorial associate, Mr. Joseph Wetzler, through whose hands all the proofs have passed.
Semibold
Lattice
Wingate
Saffron
Saffron
It was during this period, and as early as 1882, that he began serious and continued efforts to embody the rotating field principle in operative apparatus. He was enthusiastic about it; believed it to mark a new departure in the electrical arts, and could think of nothing else. In fact, but for the solicitations of a few friends in commercial circles who urged him to form a company to exploit the invention, Mr. Tesla, then a youth of little worldly experience, would have sought an immediate opportunity to publish his ideas, believing them to be worthy of note as a novel and radical advance in electrical theory as well as destined to have a profound influence on all dynamo electric machinery.
If ice be heated above 32 deg. Fahrenheit, its molecules lose their cohesion, and move freely round one another—the ice is turned into water. Heat water above 212 degrees Fahrenheit, and the molecules exhibit a violent mutual repulsion, and, like dormant bees revived by spring sunshine, separate and dart to and fro. If confined in an air-tight vessel, the molecules have their flights curtailed, and beat more and more violently against their prison walls, so that every square inch of the vessel is subjected to a rising pressure. We may compare the action of the steam molecules to that of bullets fired from a machine-gun at a plate mounted on a spring. The faster the bullets came, the greater would be the continuous compression of the spring.
If ice be heated above 32 deg. Fahrenheit, its molecules lose their cohesion, and move freely round one another—the ice is turned into water. Heat water above 212 degrees Fahrenheit, and the molecules exhibit a violent mutual repulsion, and, like dormant bees revived by spring sunshine, separate and dart to and fro. If confined in an air-tight vessel, the molecules have their flights curtailed, and beat more and more violently against their prison walls, so that every square inch of the vessel is subjected to a rising pressure. We may compare the action of the steam molecules to that of bullets fired from a machine-gun at a plate mounted on a spring. The faster the bullets came, the greater would be the continuous compression of the spring.
Never question the veracity of any statement made in general conversation. If you are certain a statement is false, and it is injurious to another person, who may be absent, you may quietly and courteously inform the speaker that he is mistaken, but if the falsehood is of no consequence, let it pass. If a statement appears monstrous, but you do not _know_ that it is false, listen, but do not question its veracity. It may be true, though it strikes you as improbable. Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled “ORANGE MARMALADE”, but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody underneath, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it. The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators had so much affected one of the crowd that he did not await the arrival of the vessel in harbor, but jumping into a small skiff, desired to be pulled alongside the Pharaon, which he reached as she rounded into La Réserve basin. When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship’s bulwarks. He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven’s wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger. There were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face, on the throne of England; there were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a fair face, on the throne of France. In both countries it was clearer than crystal to the lords of the State preserves of loaves and fishes, that things in general were settled for ever. Time passed on; and as the eldest son did not come back, and no tidings were heard of him, the second son set out, and the same thing happened to him. He met the fox, who gave him the good advice: but when he came to the two inns, his eldest brother was standing at the window where the merrymaking was, and called to him to come in; and he could not withstand the temptation, but went in, and forgot the golden bird and his country in the same manner.
Bold
Quivering
Light
Biflor
Biflor
It was now just dawn; and as we stretched our cramped legs full length on the mail sacks, and gazed out through the windows across the wide wastes of greensward clad in cool, powdery mist, to where there was an expectant look in the eastern horizon, our perfect enjoyment took the form of a tranquil and contented ecstasy. The stage whirled along at a spanking gait, the breeze flapping curtains and suspended coats in a most exhilarating way; the cradle swayed and swung luxuriously, the pattering of the horses’ hoofs, the cracking of the driver’s whip, and his “Hi-yi! g’lang!” were music; the spinning ground and the waltzing trees appeared to give us a mute hurrah as we went by, and then slack up and look after us with interest, or envy, or something; and as we lay and smoked the pipe of peace and compared all this luxury with the years of tiresome city life that had gone before it, we felt that there was only one complete and satisfying happiness in the world, and we had found it.
As I watched, the planet seemed to grow larger and smaller and to advance and recede, but that was simply that my eye was tired. Forty millions of miles it was from us—more than forty millions of miles of void. Few people realise the immensity of vacancy in which the dust of the material universe swims. Near it in the field, I remember, were three faint points of light, three telescopic stars infinitely remote, and all around it was the unfathomable darkness of empty space. You know how that blackness looks on a frosty starlight night. In a telescope it seems far profounder. And invisible to me because it was so remote and small, flying swiftly and steadily towards me across that incredible distance, drawing nearer every minute by so many thousands of miles, came the Thing they were sending us, the Thing that was to bring so much struggle and calamity and death to the earth. I never dreamed of it then as I watched; no one on earth dreamed of that unerring missile.
As I watched, the planet seemed to grow larger and smaller and to advance and recede, but that was simply that my eye was tired. Forty millions of miles it was from us—more than forty millions of miles of void. Few people realise the immensity of vacancy in which the dust of the material universe swims. Near it in the field, I remember, were three faint points of light, three telescopic stars infinitely remote, and all around it was the unfathomable darkness of empty space. You know how that blackness looks on a frosty starlight night. In a telescope it seems far profounder. And invisible to me because it was so remote and small, flying swiftly and steadily towards me across that incredible distance, drawing nearer every minute by so many thousands of miles, came the Thing they were sending us, the Thing that was to bring so much struggle and calamity and death to the earth. I never dreamed of it then as I watched; no one on earth dreamed of that unerring missile.
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, Thy youth’s proud livery so gazed on now, Will be a tattered weed of small worth held: Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days; To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes, Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise. How much more praise deserv’d thy beauty’s use, If thou couldst answer ‘This fair child of mine Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,’ Proving his beauty by succession thine. This were to be new made when thou art old, And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold. Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest, Now is the time that face should form another, Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest, Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother. For where is she so fair whose uneared womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry? Or who is he so fond will be the tomb Of his self-love to stop posterity? Thou art thy mother’s glass and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime, So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time. But if thou live remembered not to be, Die single and thine image dies with thee. Unthrifty loveliness why dost thou spend, Upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy? Nature’s bequest gives nothing but doth lend, And being frank she lends to those are free: Then beauteous niggard why dost thou abuse, The bounteous largess given thee to give? Profitless usurer why dost thou use So great a sum of sums yet canst not live? For having traffic with thyself alone, Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive, Then how when nature calls thee to be gone, What acceptable audit canst thou leave? Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee, Which used lives th’ executor to be. Those hours that with gentle work did frame The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell Will play the tyrants to the very same, And that unfair which fairly doth excel: For never-resting time leads summer on To hideous winter and confounds him there, Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone, Beauty o’er-snowed and bareness every where: Then were not summer’s distillation left A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass, Beauty’s effect with beauty were bereft, Nor it nor no remembrance what it was. But flowers distilled though they with winter meet, Leese but their show, their substance still lives sweet.
Special characteristics
Glyphs
