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12937	----	OUT WITH GUN AND CAMERA or The Boy Hunters in the Mountains By Captain Ralph Bonehill CONTENTS CHAPTERS I. Friends and Enemies II. Another Outing Proposed III. A Lesson in Photography IV. What Happened at the Circus V. Something About a Lion VI. Something About a Chimpanzee VII. Up the River VIII. The First Night Out IX. Into the Rapids X. The Cabin in the Woods XI. A Strange Meeting XII. The Circus Boy's Story XIII. Some Fine Fishing XIV. After Deer with Gun and Camera XV. In the Mountains at Last XVI. A Visit from the Enemy XVII. What Happened Under the Cliff XVIII. A Fight with Two Wildcats XIX. Some Unlooked-For Game XX. On the Mountain Side XXI. Adrift in the Woods XXII. The Spink Crowd Again XXIII. A Bear and a Lion XXIV. A Notable Capture XXV. The Two Foxes XXVI. More of a Mystery XXVII. An Old Friend Appears XVIII. After a Black Bear XXIX. The Bottom of a Mystery XXX. Good-By to the Boy Hunters PREFACE My Dear Lads: This story is complete in itself, but forms volume four in a line known by the general title of "Boy Hunters Series," taking in adventures with rod, rifle, shotgun and camera, in the field, the forest, and on river and lake, both in winter and summer. My main object in writing this series of books is to acquaint lads with life in the open air, and cause them to become interested in nature. In the first volume, called "Four Boy Hunters," I told how the youths organized their little club and went forth for a summer vacation; in the second book, "Guns and Snowshoes," I gave the particulars of a midwinter outing, with its heavy falls of snow, its blizzard, and its most remarkable Christmas in the wilds. With the coming of another summer the boys determined to go forth once more, and what they did then has been told in the third book, entitled "Young Hunters of the Lake." They had a glorious time, in spite of some enemies who tried to do them harm, and they settled the matter of certain "ghost" to their entire satisfaction. The settling of the ghost question took them home before the summer vacation was half over, and then the boys began to wonder what they had best do next. But that question was soon answered by an announcement made by the father of one of the lads; and once again they went forth, this time, however, to the distant mountains. Here they hunted and fished to their hearts' content, and likewise took a large number of photographs, some of the pictures causing them a good deal of trouble and peril to obtain. Trusting that all boys who love to hunt and to fish and to take pictures with a camera will find this volume to their liking, I remain, Your sincere friend, Captain Ralph Bonehill. CHAPTER I FRIENDS AND ENEMIES "Come on, Shep." "Where are you going, Whopper?" "For a row on the river. I've been aching for a row for about a year." "That suits me," answered Sheppard Reed, as he hopped down from the fence upon which he had been sitting. "What about the others?" "Snap said he would meet me at the dock," continued Frank Dawson, otherwise known as Whopper. "I don't know where Giant is." "I saw him about an hour ago. He was on an errand for his mother---said he was going to Perry's store." "Then we can look in Perry's. If he isn't there I'll run over to his house for him. It's a grand day for a row." "Yes, we must get him if we can," went on Sheppard Reed thoughtfully. "I've got something to tell the crowd." "To tell the crowd?" repeated Frank Dawson curiously. "What?" "I'll tell you when we are all together, Whopper." "Something about Ham Spink? I met him last night and we almost had a fight. Oh, that dude makes me sick!" "No, this isn't about Ham, or any of that crowd. It concerns----- But I'll tell you later," and Sheppard Reed put on an air of great secrecy. "All right. If you don't want to tell I suppose I'll have to wait," said Whopper disappointedly. "But you might tell me what's on your mind." "I want to tell the whole crowd at once," answered his chum. "Then nobody can say somebody else was told first." "I see. Well, you go down to the dock and meet Snap, and I'll hustle around and stir up Giant," went on Frank Dawson. "I was going to have you all over to my house to-night, to tell you," explained Sheppard. "But I might as well speak of it when we are together on the river." "Say, you must have something wonderful on your mind!" cried Whopper. "I'm dying by inches to know what it is. I'll find Giant somehow, and have him at the dock inside of a quarter of an hour sure." And away he ran on his errand, while the youth who had the important announcement to make turned in the direction of the water-front. To those who have read the former volumes in this "_Boy Hunters Series_" the lads who have been speaking will need no further introduction. For the benefit of others let me state that Sheppard Reed was the son of a doctor who had a large practice in and around the town of Fairview. Shep, as he was usually called, was a bright and manly youth, and one who loved life out of doors. Frank Dawson was a lad who had moved to the town some years before, and by his winning manner had made himself many friends. The boy had a habit of exaggerating when telling anything, and this had earned for him the nickname of Whopper---even though Frank never told anything in the shape of a deliberate falsehood. As some of his friends said, "you could tell Frank's whoppers a mile off," which was a pretty stiff "whopper" in itself. These two boys had two close chums, Charley Dodge, usually called Snap---why nobody could tell---and Will Caslette, known as Giant, because of his small stature. Charley, or Snap, as I shall call him, was the son of one of the richest men of the district, his father owning a part interest in a sawmill and a large summer hotel, besides many acres of valuable forest and farm lands. Giant was the son of a widow who had once been poor but was now in comfortable circumstances. Though small for his age, the lad was as manly as any of his chums, and they thought the world of the little fellow. The town of Fairview was a small but prosperous community, located on the Rocky River, ten miles above a sheet of water known as Lake Cameron. The place boasted of a score of stores, several churches, a volunteer fire department, and a railroad station---the latter a spot of considerable activity during the summer months. All of the boys loved to camp out, and about a year before this tale opens had organized an outing or gun club, as related in detail in the volume called "_Four Boy Hunters_." They journeyed to the shores of Lake Cameron and then to another body of water called Firefly Lake, and had plenty of fun and not a few adventures. During their outing they had considerable trouble with a dudish sport---from town named Hamilton Spink, and his cronies, and were in great peril from a disastrous forest fire. When school opened the young hunters returned to their studies, but with the approach of the winter holidays their thoughts turned again to the woods and water, and once more they sallied forth, as related in full in "_Guns and Snowshoes_." They found game in plenty, and also ran the perils of a great blizzard, and got lost in the snow. "Shall we go out again?" was the question asked when the next summer vacation was at hand, and all answered in the affirmative. This time, as related in the volume called "_Young Hunters of the Lake_," they ventured considerably farther from home---to the shore of a lake said to be visited by a much-dreaded ghost. There they again went hunting and fishing to their hearts' content, and once more had trouble with Ham Spink and his cronies. They saw the "ghost," and were at first badly scared, but in the end solved the awful mystery by proving that the "ghost" was nothing but a man---a relative of Giant, who had lost his mind and disappeared some time before. The man was restored to reason, and through his testimony Giant's mother obtained some money which had been tied up in the courts. The finding of the man had brought the boy hunters back to Fairview before their summer vacation was half finished. What to do next was the question. "We ought to go somewhere---staying at home is dead slow," was the way one of the lads expressed himself; but for a week or more nothing was done. Whistling gaily to himself, Shep Reed hurried down to the lake front. As he came out on one of the docks he caught sight of Snap, surrounded by half a dozen other lads, all carrying various bundles, and all equipped with guns and fishing-rods. "Ham Spink and his cronies," murmured the doctor's son to himself. "Wonder where they are bound?" "Oh, we are going to have the outing of our lives this trip," Ham Spink was declaring in his usual lordly fashion. "It's going to be the finest outing ever started from this town." "Where are you going?" asked Snap curiously. "Do you suppose we are going to tell you?" demanded another boy, a lad named Carl Dudder. "Not much! We don't want you to come sneaking after us, to shoot the game that we stir up." "We never sneaked after you," cried Snap rather indignantly. "And we have always been able to stir up our own game." "Bah! I know better." "Of course they have taken our game---more than once," came from Ham Spink. "And if they don't shoot our game they scare it off, so that we don't have a chance to bring it down." "What you say, Ham Spink, is absolutely untrue, and you know it," put in Shep, brushing through the crowd. "We have never in our lives touched any game that was coming to you or your crowd. We-----" "Say, do you want to fight?" cried Ham Spink, working himself up into a quick passion; and he doubled up his fists as he spoke. "No; but I can defend myself," answered the doctor's son just as quickly. "I am not afraid of you." "And we are not afraid of ghosts, either," was Snap's sarcastic comment. These last words made Ham Spink and one or two of his cronies furious. They had been up to the distant lake where the "ghost" had held forth, and had been so badly frightened that they had come home, "on the run," as Whopper expressed it now that the matter had been fully explained, Ham and his followers felt decidedly sheepish over it consequently, to mention the affair was as bad as to wave a red rag in front of a bull. "You shut up about ghosts!" cried Ham, shaking his fist in Snap's face. "Say, Ham, let us give 'em a dressing down before we leave," whispered Carl Dudder. He looked around the dock. "Nobody here but ourselves." "That's the talk," put in another of the Spink crowd. "They deserve it for trying to crow over us." Shep and Snap heard the talk and looked at each other. They endeavored to back away in the direction of the street, but before they could accomplish this the entire Spink crowd threw down their guns, rods and bundles and advanced upon them. "Keep back!" cried the doctor's son. "If you hit us you'll take the consequences!" added Snap. An instant later Ham Spink and his cohorts closed in. Snap and Shep were caught, front and back, and several blows were quickly exchanged. It was an uneven contest, and the doctor's son and his chum might have fared badly had not a sudden cry rang out: "Look at that, Giant! They are trying to maul Snap and Shep!" The cry came from Whopper. "Let up there!" added Will Caslette. And then, as small as he was, he ran out on the dock and toward the center of the melee. Frank came with him, and each caught one of the Spink faction by the arm and swung him backward. "Good! Here are the others!" panted Shep. "Give it to 'em, fellows; they started it!" The arrival of the pair somewhat disconcerted the Spink crowd, and they stopped fighting. They were still six to four, but to handle four was only half as easy as to handle two. The others looked inquiringly at their leader. "Give it to 'em!" muttered Ham; but even as he spoke he edged to the upper end of the dock, past Giant and Whopper. "Give it to 'em yourself," murmured a follower who had received a blow in the eye. "I guess I won't fight any more to-day." As quickly as it could be done, Whopper and Giant ranged alongside of Snap and the doctor's son. They gazed defiantly at the crowd that confronted them. For a brief spell there was an ominous silence. "Say, did we come here to fight or to start on our outing?" asked a lad of the Spink crowd. He was tall and thin, and evidently very nervous. He was a newcomer in the town and knew but little about the quarrels of bygone days. "Don't waste time here," added another youth. "We can finish with them when we come back." "You are afraid, now that we are four to six," said Snap. "You were willing enough to pitch into Shep and me when we were alone." "Oh, give us a rest!" growled Ham Spink, not knowing what else to say. He caught up the things he had been carrying. "Come on, fellows," he added, and almost ran from the dock. With great rapidity, for they were afraid Snap and his chums would charge upon them, the others of the Spink coterie took up their guns, rods and bundles and followed their leader. "Let us go after 'em!" cried Whopper. "We can knock them into the middle of next Christmas, and I know it!" "That's the talk!" cried the plucky Giant. "Let's go and make mincemeat of 'em!" And he started to follow those who had retreated. "No use, boys!" called out Snap. "Come back." "Why not?" demanded Whopper. "They are going aboard the _Mary Raymond_. Ham said so. There she is now, with a lot of other passengers. See, they are heading for that dock already." "Where are they going, anyway?" asked Giant as he halted. "I know," whispered Whopper. "Just heard about it. They are going to camp out behind Lake Narsac, in the Windy Mountains." "The Windy Mountains?" ejaculated the doctor's son in evident astonishment. "Did you say the Windy Mountains, Whopper?" "I did. Why, what's the matter, Shep?" "Well, if that don't beat the Dutch!" And then Shep shook his head in a manner that indicated something did not suit him at all. CHAPTER II ANOTHER OUTING PROPOSED "Will you be so highly condescending and much obliging as to open the trapdoor of your mind and let us know what it is that beats the Dutch?" demanded Giant, after he and his chums had looked at the doctor's son for several seconds in silence. "Why, yes, of course," answered Shep. "But er---it all fits in with what I was going to tell you about in the first place." "And that was-----" burst out Whopper eagerly. "Wait till we are out on the river, away from the town folks. I don't want everybody to know our business." "Great Scott! but Shep's got a secret!" burst out Snap. "What is it---a treasure hunt, or a new way to make diamonds?" "Now quit fooling, and come on out in the boat, and you'll soon know all about it," replied the doctor's son. "Then we have got to wait?" asked Giant reproachfully. "And when we are dying by inches to know," added Whopper. "Yes, you've got to wait. So the sooner we get out on the river the better---if you are dying, as you say," responded the doctor's son. While talking the four chums had been watching the departure of the Ham Spink crowd from another dock. Soon the boat that carried the dudish bully and his cronies disappeared around a bend of the river. In a very few minutes Shep and his chums had their rowboat out. They were used to rowing together, and each took his accustomed place at the oars. Shep gave the word, and like clockwork four blades dropped into the water and the rowboat shot away from the dock. "Where shall we go?" asked Giant. "Let us row over to Lackney's orchard," answered Snap. "Dandy apples there---and Mr. Lackney told me we could help ourselves." "Suits me!" cried Whopper. "I'd rather eat apples than go to a fire. Us three can eat while Shep does the spouting." "Humph! perhaps I'd do a little eating myself," came from the doctor's son. It was an ideal day in midsummer, and all of the lads were in the best of spirits. As they rowed along they discussed the encounter with the Spink faction. "I wish they'd leave us alone," was Shep's comment. "I am getting so I fairly hate the sight of Ham and Carl Dudder." "So do I," added Whopper. "But they don't intend to leave us alone, and that is all there is to it." "I am sorry they are going up into the Windy Mountains," said Shep. "It will-----" And then he stopped short. "Say, Shep, if you keep on like that we'll pitch you overboard," cried Whopper. "If you've got anything to tell, tell it, or else keep still." "Wait till we get to Lackney's orchard," was all the doctor's son would reply. They soon came to a bend in the river and, crossing here, drew up to a spot where some trees and bushes overhung the water. All leaped ashore and Snap tied the craft fast to a stake. Then the chums strolled up to some near-by apple trees, selected some fruit that suited them, and threw themselves on the ground to enjoy their feast. "Now we are ready to listen to your imperial majesty's secret," observed Giant as he munched a juicy apple. "Yes, let us in on it, by all means," added Snap. "And don't say it's about lessons for the coming fall," put in Whopper with a mock-serious look. "Lessons!" burst out Giant. "Perish the thought!" "Well, to start with," began the doctor's son. "How would you like to go camping again?" "Fine!" "Great!" "Couldn't be better!" "Just as I thought," continued Shep. "And just what I told my father. He wants us to go out, you know," and Shep's eyes began to twinkle. "He wants us to go out?" asked Whopper. "You mean he is willing for you to go?" "No, he told me to ask you if you wanted to go out---for him." "Mystery on mystery," came from Giant. "For him? I don't understand." "Neither do I," came simultaneously from Snap and Whopper. "Will, it's this way, to tell you the whole story. Can you keep a secret?" "Of course!" "Well, then, my father has become interested in a big land company that has procured a large reservation of land in and along the Windy Mountains. The company isn't going to do much with the reservation this year, but next year it is going to build camps up by the lake, and advertise it as a sort of private hunting and fishing resort. They hope to get the better class of sportsmen up here from the cities and make considerable money." "Yes; but how does that affect us?" asked Giant impatiently. "Wait and you'll see. My father says the success of the scheme will depend very largely on how it is presented to the public, and he and two of the other men have decided to do some high-class advertising of the project---little booklets and folders, and all that. These booklets and folders are to be filled with photo-engravings, showing the pretty spots in the mountains, and also pictures of the animals and fish a sportsman can get." "And does your father want us to get the photographs?" asked Snap. "That's it---if we care to do it. He can't go out, and neither can those other men, and they don't know who to get. Of course, they could hire a professional photographer, but he would only take scenery, most likely, while what my father wants particularly is pictures of good hunting and fishing, and pictures of real camp life. He thinks we are just the boys to get the right kind of pictures-----" "So we are, if we had the right kind of cameras," broke in Whopper. "Yes; give me a high-class camera and plenty of films or plates, and I'll take all the photos he wants," added Snap. "I haven't got to the end of my story yet," resumed the doctor's son. "Father knows that the pictures---I mean the right kind---will be worth money, and so he said, if we'd go out, and do the very best we could about getting the photos, he would furnish the cameras and plates, and would pay all the expenses of the trip." "Whoop! hurrah! that suits me down to the ground!" cried Whopper. "Let's start to-morrow---no, this afternoon!" "Offer accepted with pleasure," came from Giant. "Do you really think we can get the photographs your father wants, Shep?" asked Snap. "It wouldn't be fair to take the offer up and then disappoint him." "He thinks we can do it. He says he will get us the proper outfit, and before we start he'll have a professional photographer, who has made a study of landscapes, give us pointers on how to get the best results. He knows we can take pretty good pictures already." "In that case, I say, let us accept the offer, by all means," answered Snap. "How soon can we start?" demanded Whopper. "I asked my father that, and he said most likely by next Monday. He will want to give us all some instructions before we leave. And he wants us to read this book," and Shep drew a small volume from his pocket. "What is it?" "A book on how to take the best photographs of wild animals." "Humph! It's easy to get a picture---if you can find the animal," was Whopper's comment. "This tells how to get a picture if you can't find the animal." "What!" "Exactly. Here are diagrams showing how to rig up a camera and a flashlight, so that if the animal comes along in the dark and shoves a certain string the light goes off and so does the camera, and the picture is taken. If you want to, you can bait the string." "Say, that's great!" cried Giant. "I'd like to lay the game low---after I had the picture," was Snap's comment. "We can do that, too---sometimes." After that the doctor's son gave his chums more details of what his parent had said. All the boys were sure they could go out again, for their return home from their previous trip had not been expected by their parents. "Were you thinking we might meet Ham Spink and his crowd?" asked Giant during a short lull in the talk. "Yes," answered Shep. "And if we do, they'll sure try to make trouble for us." "I am not afraid of them," said Snap. "If they don't keep their distance we'll-----" "Give 'em as good as they send," finished Whopper. "But great Caesar's tombstone! just think of going camping again!" And in his joy the youth turned a handspring on the grass. As he arose Giant threw an apple core that took him in the ear. Then Whopper threw a core in return, hitting Shep. A general fusillade of cores followed, and the lads ended by chasing each other around the orchard. Then they trooped back to the rowboat. "Shall we go and talk to your father?" asked Snap on the way back. "I think he'd like it if you would," answered the doctor's son. "I'll see if he is disengaged." Dr. Reed was busy with a lady caller and the boys had to wait a quarter of an hour. Then he came into the sitting-room and shook hands warmly. "So you are willing to undertake the commission to get pictures, eh?" he said after a few words. "Well, I am glad of it, for I know you can do it if you'll try. The outing ought to just suit you." "It certainly will," answered Snap. "I'll get the cameras at once and likewise the other things. Let me see, what cameras have you now?" The boys told him, and he made some notes in a book. A general talk followed, and the physician told the lads just what he would like best to have. He cautioned them to keep quiet concerning the land company's projects. "We want to spring this on the general public as a surprise," he explained. "If we don't keep it quiet some other folks may try to get ahead of us. To my mind our section of the Windy Mountains is an ideal one for city sportsmen, being wild and yet not too wild, and having some charming spots for camping." "And hunting and fishing ought to be good," added Whopper. "I've heard Jed Sanborn say so." Jed Sanborn was an old hunter who knew every foot of territory for miles around the river and its lakes. "I suppose we can take along the same general outfit we had before," remarked Whopper. "I will get you a new and larger tent," answered the doctor, "and a few other things I think you ought to have." Can you go to Rallings to-morrow?" "Rallings?" asked several. "Yes. I will pay your way. I want you to go to visit Mr. Jally, the photographer. He is the one to give you a few lessons in photography." The boys could all go, and it was decided to visit Railings early in the morning. The physician said he would give his son a letter of instructions for the photographer. "It would be a good thing if you could stay overnight," said Dr. Reed. "Then you could have two days instructions instead of one. You could stay at my sister's house." "That would be jolly!" cried Shep. He loved his aunt and knew she would make him and his chums welcome. "I guess I can stay---anyway, I'll find out," answered Snap; and Giant and Whopper said the same. Little did any of the boys dream of what strange happenings that visit to Railings was to bring forth. CHAPTER III A LESSON IN PHOTOGRAPHY By consulting a time-table the boys found that a train for Railings left at ten minutes after eight in the morning. The distance to the city was thirty-three miles and the run on the country railroad took the best part of an hour and a quarter. Snap, Whopper and Giant were on hand ten minutes before train time. They found the doctor's son ahead of them, and he had tickets for all. "Well, how did you make out at home?" was the question asked by several, and then it was learned that all had had an easy time of it persuading their parents to let them go on the proposed outing to the Windy Mountains. "My folks told me to beware of ghosts," said Snap with a grin. "We needn't beware if the ghost turns out to be like that other," answered Giant. "My folks told me to keep out of trouble especially with Ham Spink's crowd," said Whopper. "Say, fellows, I reckon you have forgotten something," said Shep. "Forgotten something?" queried Whopper. "Exactly." "What?" "There's a circus at Rallings---to-day and tomorrow." "Why, so there is!" exclaimed Giant. "How queer we didn't remember it before! Casso's United Railroad Shows. Do you suppose it is worth going to see?" "I don't know. But as the admission is only twenty-five cents we might take it in---if we get the chance." "Oh, let us take it in, by all means," pleaded Whopper. "Why, I'm dying to see the elephants and acrobats and all that!" "Seems to me you're dying pretty often lately," answered Snap with a smile. "You ought to become a dyer by trade!" And then he ducked as Whopper made a playful pass at his head. When the train came along the lads found it well filled, mostly with country folks going to Railings to see the circus. They had to stand up part of the distance to the city. "Maybe the photographer will be so busy he won't want to bother giving us lessons," said Snap. "Maybe," answered the doctor's son. "We'll have to take our chances." Reaching Rallings, the boys hurried at once to the studio of the photographer. They found Mr. Jally taking a family group of father, mother and three sons, and had to wait until the sitting was over. While they waited they watched the crowds on the street. "Going to be plenty of folks here to see the circus," was Snap's comment, and his words proved true, folks flocking in from every quarter of the surrounding districts. When Mr. Jally was at liberty he read Dr. Reed's letter with interest. "The doctor mentioned this to me when he was in Rallings last Saturday," said the photographer. "I said I'd do what I could for you lads. I am sorry it is circus day, as I am likely to be busy. But I'll give you all the time I can spare." "We can come to-morrow, too," said Shep. "We are going to stay in Rallings over night." "Good! I think I can give you quite a few pointers in that time. I believe you all know something about photographs already." "Yes; here are some of our snapshots," said the doctor's son, and he brought forth the pictures the boys had taken on their various outings. "These are not bad," pronounced the photographer after an examination. "Some of them are very good. They indicate that you have it in you to take some good pictures." And then he went over the prints carefully one by one, telling them which seemed to be under exposed and which over, and which had not been properly developed and printed. Then he went into the question of grouping and centering and focusing, and told them how best to time their exposures. He was interrupted twice by girls who wanted their pictures taken, and then he told them a great deal about the values of lights and shades, and about suitable backgrounds. Then he brought forth an album of outdoor views and told them to study what was written under each picture. "There is the time of day and the day of the month," he said, "and also the condition of the weather. These figures show the 'stop' of the shutter, and these the length of the exposure. Have you a timecard for exposures?" "No; but we are going to get one," answered Shep. "They are quite valuable; but even with a card one must often use his own judgment as to just what stop to use and how much time. If you are particularly anxious about a picture you had better take two or three exposures of it, instead of only one. Even the best of photographers occasionally fail to get good results on a first trial." After that Mr. Jally brought forth several cameras he had used in outdoor work and explained how they might be used to the best advantage in taking different kinds of pictures and under various conditions. "Strange as it may seem," he said, "no two scenes can be handled alike. In one the background may be very light and in the other very dark. One day the atmosphere may be very clear, the next it may be very dense." "Yes, we know that, and we have found out that clouds over the sun make a big difference," said Snap. The boys spent the balance of the morning and nearly all of the afternoon with the photographer, and learned many things of which they had been formerly ignorant. He recommended that they purchase and study several books on photography, and this they agreed to do. "I see by the letter that Dr. Reed wishes me to pick out your cameras," said Mr. Jally. "I am going to the city Saturday and will get them and leave them at the doctor's house Saturday evening." "And will you get the films and plates and other things, too?" questioned Whopper. "Yes. The doctor wants a complete outfit, including a daylight developing tank, and all the chemicals for developing and printing. Then you can see what your pictures look like before you leave camp, and if a picture doesn't suit you can take it over again." "Not if it's a wild beast," answered Giant with a grin. "In the case of wild animals you had better save your films or plates until you get home. Developing in camp is not conducive to the best work, and you might lose the very film or plate you wanted the most." "Yes, I know something about that," said Whopper. "I once took a beautiful picture---at least, I thought it was beautiful---of a flock of sheep, and when I tried to develop the plate in a hurry I got one end light-struck, so it was no good." "Yes, and once, when I was in a hurry to develop a roll of films I had of a military parade," said Snap, "I got the hypo in the tank instead of the developing solution, and that was the end of that roll." "This is a good rule to remember," said the photographer. "Never open the shutter of your camera until you are certain you are ready to take the picture, and never attempt to develop a plate or a film until you are sure your chemicals are properly mixed, and until you are sure you have everything at hand with which to work, and until you are sure the plate or film is properly protected from the light." The boys were surprised when Mr. Jally announced that it was supper time and that he must go home. "Gracious! And I told my aunt we'd be to supper by six o'clock!" exclaimed Shep. "We'll have to leg it to her house." "Come again to-morrow at nine o'clock," said the photographer, and this the chums promised to do. "Well, I've learned a whole lot to-day," said Snap as they walked along. "I am sure I can take a much better picture than formerly." "And I've learned one little lesson," came from Whopper. "After this I am not going to take so many snapshots of landscapes. I am going to take time exposures, and put my camera on a tripod, and study the scene through the ground glass, to get the best view possible." Mrs. Carson, the doctor's sister, had given the boys their dinner, and now she had supper on the table waiting for them. Their experiments of the afternoon had made them hungry, and all "pitched in" with a vigor that made the good woman smile. "What do you intend to do this evening?" she asked. "We are going to the circus, Aunt Jennie," answered Shep. "Father said we might go." "I thought as much. Don't stay out too late." "We'll come home as soon as the show is over." "Well, if it gets too late I'll put the key out for you---under the front-door mat," said Mrs. Carson. "I fancy you can find your way to your rooms." "Certainly," answered Snap. "You needn't stay up for us, Aunt Jennie," said Shep, who knew his relative was in the habit of retiring early. "I am not going to bed so very early, Shep. I am afraid some of those tramps who follow the circus will come and rob me. I heard the town was full of the good-for-nothings." "You had better lock up good after we are gone," said Giant. "No fear but what I'll do that," answered Mrs. Carson. "We'll try not to wake you up when we come in, aunty." "I'll hear you, never fear. And, Shep, if you are hungry when you get back, you'll find a jar of cookies in the pantry, and a pitcher of milk in the icebox." "Good for you!" cried the doctor's son, and he ran around the table and gave his aunt a hug and a kiss. "You know what boys like, don't you?" The four chums were soon on their way to the circus grounds, located on the outskirts of Railings. Here they found erected a large main tent and several smaller ones, all lit up by numerous gasolene torches. At one side of the main tent was a side show, with numerous pictures hung between high poles. Near the entrance to the big show was a ticket wagon, and here a long line of people were awaiting their turns to get the bits of pasteboard which would admit them to the wonders under the canvases. "Going to have a big crowd and no mistake," observed Snap as he looked at the folks flocking to the circus grounds. "I heard they had a big crowd this afternoon, too," said Giant. "They had a big crowd and a big fight," said a man standing near. "A fight?" queried Whopper. "Yes. It's a wonder somebody wasn't killed." "What was the fight about?" questioned the doctor's son. "Why, it seems the head boss of the show discharged four of the wagon drivers for drunkenness. The fellows wanted their full month's wages and the boss wouldn't give it to them. Then they got ugly and commenced to tamper with some of the animals. The boss called some of his other men, and all hands had a big fight right in the menagerie tent. One boy who was looking on got hit with a club, and a lady fainted, and they almost had a panic. Then the police took a hand, and one of the fellows who was discharged was arrested. The other three got away." "Yes, and those other three men say they are coming back," said a farmer who stood near and who had overheard the conversation. "I saw them at supper time, back of Lum's hotel. They say they are going to get square on the circus boss, even if they have to break up the whole show to do it." "I hope they don't come back to-night," said Snap. "I don't want to get mixed up in any quarrel." "Me either," answered the farmer. "I want to see the show, and that's all." "I don't think they'll come back," said the first man who had spoken. "If they did the police would arrest them on sight. They'll go to the next town and lay for the circus there." By this time the boys had worked their way up to the ticket wagon. Each purchased a ticket of admission, and a moment later all passed on to the inside of the main tent. CHAPTER IV WHAT HAPPENED AT THE CIRCUS The lads had not seen a circus for two years, consequently the show had much of the air of novelty about it for them. They spent half an hour in the menagerie tent, inspecting the wild animals, and then took seats in the main tent, as close to the rings as they could get. Casso's United Railroad Shows was quite an affair, and the performance was given in two rings at a time, as well as upon a trapeze in the air between the tent poles. First there was the usual procession of horses and riders, elephants and camels, ponies and carts and racing chariots, and then came the acts, all of more or less thrilling interest. There were six clowns, and they kept the audience in a roar of laughter. "Say, this is an all-right show," remarked Giant, after witnessing some particularly thrilling bareback riding. "I wouldn't try to do that trick on horseback for a thousand dollars." "Here come the acrobats," said Snap as four bespangled performers ran into the rings and bowed and kissed their hands. Then the acrobats climbed up to two bars and did various "turns," all more or less hazardous. "Here comes a boy!" cried Shep, as another performer stepped into one of the rings and bowed. "Just look how thin and pale he is," whispered the doctor's son, who sat not far away from the youthful acrobat. "Looks as if he had had a spell of sickness," added Giant. The youthful acrobat did look as if he had been sick and was not yet entirely over it. He walked slowly over to one of the ropes and grasped it in his thin, white hands. "I---I can't go up, Mr. Jones," the chums heard him whisper to the ringmaster. "Yes, you can---and will, or I'll cut you with the whip!" was the ringmaster's harsh answer, and he cracked his lash loudly. "I---I'm not well enough yet---my head is dizzy," pleaded the young acrobat. "Up you go!" snarled the ringmaster, and cracked his whip in such a fashion that the end of the lash took the young acrobat in the calf of the leg, causing him to cry with pain. "What an outrage!" whispered Snap, clenching his fists. "That ringmaster ought to be cowhided." Painfully the young acrobat started to pull himself up on the rope. The ringmaster glared at him and then cracked his whip once more, taking the young performer in the arm. "Shame! shame!" cried Snap; and "Shame!" added the other boys quickly. "Shut up, you boys!" growled the ringmaster, turning quickly. "Then let that boy alone," answered Snap loudly. "If you don't shut up I'll have you put out!" roared the ringmaster. The young acrobat had climbed the rope a distance of ten feet. Now he appeared to grow dizzy, and of a sudden he lost his grip and fell in a heap in the sawdust ring. "You rat, you, I'll fix you!" hissed the ringmaster. "What do we pay you for, anyway?" He raised his long lash again, but before he could bring it down Snap and Shep leaped from their seats, quickly followed by Giant and Whopper and two well-dressed men. "Don't you hit that boy," cried Snap loudly. "Don't you do it!" "That's right---let the kid alone," added one of the well-dressed men. "Go back to your seats---this is none of your affair," growled the ringmaster. "It is our affair," put in the doctor's son. "That boy is sick---everybody can see it. He can't perform." He purposely spoke in a loud voice, so that many heard him. At once a murmur arose on all sides. "That's right---the kid is sick---take him out of the ring." "It's an outrage to try to make him perform." "The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children ought to look into this." Half a hundred men and boys stepped up to the ring, and for a few minutes the discussion waxed warm. In the meantime the young acrobat arose unsteadily to his feet. He was so weak he could hardly stand. "Get back to the dressing-room, and be quick about it," growled the ringmaster to him. "I'll settle with you for this later." "Down that ringmaster! Give him his own lash!" came from a burly farmer. "We'll teach him to abuse a boy as is sick!" This cry was taken up by several. Growing alarmed, the ringmaster took to his heals and disappeared in the direction of the dressing-tent, whence his young victim had already gone. Then the band struck up, and the manager of the show sent out the clowns to do an extra stunt to quiet the audience. "I'm afraid that ringmaster will have it in for that boy," said Snap to his chums. "Poor boy!" murmured the doctor's son. "He didn't look as if he was used to this hard life. I wish we could do something for him." "Let us try to look into the dressing-room and see what is going on," suggested Snap. The four boys watched their chance, and walking around the main tent, crawled under some slanting seats and then got close to the canvas that divided the main tent from that used by the performers in "making up." "Grandy, you must know what became of the little rascal," they heard the ringmaster say. "He came in here." "So he did, sir," was the answer of a canvasman. "But he didn't stay. He just caught up some clothing and dusted." "What! Ran away?" "He dusted. I don't know where he went." "Humph! He wouldn't dare to run away. If he tries that game I'll take his hide off when. I catch him." "He couldn't run very far, Mr. Jones---he was too weak." "Bah! He isn't sick. He wants to shirk his act, that's all. Just wait till I get hold of him---I'll teach him to get me into hot water with the audience!" fumed the ringmaster. "Well; I don't know where he went," answered the canvasman, and resumed his work on the wall of the menagerie tent. Then the ringmaster walked to another part of the dressing-tent to put on his street clothing, for he did not dare appear in the ring again at that performance. "I hope that boy did run away," said Snap as he and his friends turned back to look at the rest of the performance. "I don't see why such a nice looking lad should travel with such a crowd as this." "Oh, I suppose some of the circus folks are good people," answered Whopper. "But not that ringmaster." "He ought to be tarred and feathered, and I'd like to help do it," came from Giant. "Wonder who the boy is?" asked Shep. "He is down on the bills as Master Buzz, the Human Fly. Of course, Buzz isn't his real name." "No. It is more likely to be Smith or Jones," answered Whopper. "I'd like to see him and have a talk with him." "Perhaps we'll get a chance to-morrow. The circus is to stay two days, you know," said Snap. "Maybe the boy is all alone," said Shep. "If he is it might be that he would like it first rate if we would help him." The boys had lost interest in the show, and were not sorry when it came to an end. They were among the first out, and hurried directly toward Mrs. Carson's house. In doing this they had to cross the railroad track, and here a passing freight train held them up. The freight came to a halt, and backed to take on some empties. Then it proceeded slowly on its way. "Well, I never!" cried Snap suddenly as one of the empty cars came into view, under the rays of an electric light. "Look there!" He pointed to the open doorway of a car. A figure stood there, wrapped in a coat several sizes too large for it---the figure of a slender boy with a whitish face, "Was that that boy acrobat?" gasped Whopper as the freight train gathered headway and cleared the crossing. "I think it was," answered Snap. "So do I," put in the doctor's son. "If it was, he is losing no time in getting out of town," was Giant's comment. "And I don't blame him." "He had on a coat big enough for a man, and his trousers were rolled up around his feet," observed Snap. "Most likely he grabbed up the first suit he could find when he left the dressing-tent." "If it really was the boy," said Whopper. "It looked like him, but we may be mistaken." It did not take the four youths long to reach Mrs. Carson's home. They went in softly, and each got a cookie and a drink of milk. Then they went to bed and slept soundly until morning. Promptly on time they presented themselves at Mr. Jally's studio, and found not only the photographer but also an assistant present. "I am going to leave my assistant in charge," said Mr. Jally. "I'll go out with you, and we'll have a practical lesson in getting outdoor views." Taking two cameras with them, the photographer and the boys started off, to be gone until noon. They walked across the city and along the river, and at the latter locality took half a dozen pictures, Mr. Jally instructing them all the while. "Now I'll show you how a commonplace bit of scenery can be made to look quite romantic," said Mr. Jally presently. "Let us walk over to the railroad embankment. Such an embankment is not pretty in itself, but I think we can get quite a pretty view of it." After many instructions they took a view of the embankment. Their walk had tired the photographer, who was rather stout, and he proposed that they rest. Near at hand was a section shed with some lumber piles, and there they took it easy. During a lull in the conversation the boys noticed three men approaching. They were rather tough-looking characters, and at first the lads took them to be tramps. The men walked behind the lumber piles without noticing our friends. "Some fellows that followed up the circus, I suppose," said Snap. "Yes; the kind my aunt was afraid of," added the doctor's son. "We can do it jest as well as not," they heard one of the men say. "An' we got a right, too." "Sure we got a right," said another of the trio in a heavy, rasp-like voice. "We'll show Casso what it means to do a feller out o' his lawful wages." "Yes; but you look out you ain't caught," added the third man. "He's got all hands watching to spot us." "We'll bust up his show, see if we don't," growled the first speaker. "They must be the fellows who were discharged for drunkenness," whispered Snap. "Yes; and they are laying plans to square up with the proprietor," added Whopper. "Wonder what they will do?" "If they are up to anything unlawful, they ought to be exposed," was Mr. Jally's comment. He, too, had heard of the quarrel of the afternoon before. "I don't care to put myself out to help that circus man," said Snap. "He is responsible for what happened to that sick boy. At the same time, I know 'two wrongs don't make a right.`" The men continued to talk, but in such low tones that the others could only catch a word or two. Something was said about a lion and a chimpanzee and a toolhouse, but the boys could not imagine what the circus men had in mind to do. Presently one of the circus men got up from his seat and walked around the lumber piles. When he saw the boys and Mr. Jally he uttered a whistle of surprise. Then he turned back to his companions, and all three of the men hurried away into the woods skirting the railroad tracks. CHAPTER V SOMETHING ABOUT A LION "They are certainly up to something," was Snap's comment. "Yes; and I'd give something to know just what it is," added the doctor's son. Having rested, Mr. Jally took the boys to the bank of the river and there showed them how to make a good picture with a strong reflection in the water. This was rather difficult because of the distribution of light over the plate. "Be careful when you point your camera toward the sun," said the photographer. "Otherwise you may get a sun-spot, or 'ghost,' right in the center of your picture." "I know about that," said Whopper. "Once I tried to take a picture of my cousin standing by a well. The glare of the sun got on the plate just where her head ought to have been, so she was headless." "That sure was a ghost!" cried Shep; and then all laughed. The boys were to take the seven o'clock train back to Fairview, so at five o'clock they bid farewell to Mr. Jally and walked toward Mrs. Carson's house to get supper. Just as they turned the corner of a street close to the house they heard a man yelling wildly. He was running rapidly at the same time. "What's that fellow saying?" asked Whopper. "Maybe it's a fire." "No, he didn't say fire," returned Snap. "It sounded to me like lion." "Lion?" questioned Whopper. "Look out for the lion!" bawled the man. "Look out for the lion!" And down the street he went on the double-quick. "He did say lion!" exclaimed Giant. "One of the circus lions must have gotten free!" burst out the doctor's son. "Or else those circus men let him loose!" returned Snap. "Don't you remember they said something about a lion?" "So they did." Others were now taking up the cry, and in a very few minutes men, women and children were hurrying in all directions to get out of the way of the beast. Some said it was one lion, and some said five or six, and everybody was thoroughly scared. "We'll be eat up alive!" shrieked one lady. "Come, Bess!" And she took her little girl by the hand and ran for home, slamming and locking the door after her. Soon everybody was running for shelter, and in a twinkling the doors of stores and houses were tightly closed, and windows followed. The majority of the people went to the upper floors of their dwellings and peered forth anxiously to catch sight of whatever might be roaming the streets waiting to devour them. "If a lion is really at large it will certainly make things interesting," observed Snap. "But maybe it's only a scare." "I hope it is," answered Giant. "Excuse me from brushing up against a real, bloodthirsty lion!" And he moved toward the Carson home, the others following. "What is it, boys?" asked Shep's aunt, coming out on the piazza. "What is all the noise about?" "They say a lion got loose from the circus," answered her nephew. "Mercy on us!" ejaculated the lady, and turned pale. "Come in the house this minute, before you are all eat up!" "We don't know if it is true or not," said Snap. "Better not take any chances," answered Mrs. Carson. "I once heard of a lion getting loose from Central Park in New York City and eating up five school children." "Yes, father tells that story, too," answered Shep. "But it was all a newspaper hoax---it never happened, aunty." "Well, come in, and we'll close the doors and windows." As much to please the lady as anything, the boys went in, and assisted in closing up the lower part of the house. They had just reached an upper window when a man went hurrying through the Street, holding a shotgun in his hands. "Did a lion really get loose?" called out Snap. "He certainly did," was the answer. "Where is he now?" "Somewhere back of the freight depot, or in one of the empty freight cars." "Going to try to shoot him?" asked Whopper. "Yes. Four or five of us are going to try to do that or capture him." The man hurried on, and presently another appeared, armed with a rifle. "Wish I had a gun; I'd go on the hunt, too," said Snap. "Think of laying a real lion low!" "It would beat deer hunting, wouldn't it?" answered Whopper. "But supposing the lion turned and hunted you? You'd want to run about 'leven hundred miles!" "If you had the chance," came from Giant. "I've heard that a lion can get over the ground as quick as a cat." "I don't want any of you boys to leave this house until that lion is caught," said Mrs. Carson firmly. "I feel it my duty to keep you here." "Maybe they won't catch him at all," suggested her nephew. "Oh, they'll be sure to catch or shoot him by morning," answered the lady of the house. Supper in the dining-room below was rather a haphazard affair. It was eaten behind closed blinds and in semi-darkness, the lady of the house being afraid to make a light, for fear of allowing the roaming lion to see the eating, and her guests. Just as the hired girl was bringing in the dessert a distant shot rang out, and uttering a scream the girl, whose nerves were on edge, let the dessert saucers fall to the floor with a crash. "Somebody must have shot the lion!" cried Giant. "Or shot at him," corrected Whopper. "Just look what you have done, Mary!" cried Mrs. Carson in dismay. "I couldn't help it, mum," answered the servant girl. "That lion gettin' loose has scared me stiff!" "Well, I am scared myself. Clear up the muss, and be careful next time. Boys, you'll have to do without the preserves. But you can have cake." "Cake is good enough for me," answered Snap, and the others said about the same. Not long after that came another shot, this time from the corner at the end of the block. "They are coming this way!" exclaimed the doctor's son. "Let us go upstairs again and see what is doing." "Be careful!" screamed his aunt. "That lion may jump right up to the second story window!" The boys went to an upper window, and then, growing bolder, stepped out on the top of the front piazza. They saw several men running along a cross street. Then another shot rang out. "The lion must be in this vicinity," said Snap. "I saw something then---over yonder!" cried Giant, and pointed to the back of a yard down by the corner of the street. "A dog---and he is legging it for dear life," returned Whopper. "He looks as if he wouldn't stop this side of the North Pole!" "Perhaps the lion scared him," said Shep. "I think-----Look!" The doctor's son broke off short and pointed with his hand. Gazing in the direction indicated, the lads saw something dark slinking on the opposite side of a high picket fence. "It's the lion!" said Snap in a whisper. "See his tail swaying from side to side?" "Oh, for a rifle!" murmured Whopper. "Aunty, have you a gun?" called Shep. "We see the lion!" "No, I haven't any gun," answered the lady of the house quickly. "And you had better get inside as quickly as you can. The lion may leap up at you." "I don't think he can jump so high." "There are some of the men with their guns," went on Giant. "See, they are running around to the front of that house." "I wonder if they see the lion?" asked Snap. "Let us yell to them," suggested Whopper. One after another the boys set up a shout. But the hunters were now out of sight and paid no attention to them. A moment later the lads saw the lion leave the vicinity of the fence, cross the yard, and disappear behind the side of a barn. Then came a sudden smashing of boards, and a wild-eyed horse burst into view and ran down the street at top speed. "The lion scared that horse," said Whopper. "Well, he's enough to scare anything." "Boys! boys! why don't you come in?" pleaded Mrs. Carson. "If he sees you he'll surely try to get up on the piazza." "If he turns this way we'll come in and shut the blinds," answered her nephew. "It may be too late then." "Oh, I think not, aunty." Another shot rang out, and then the boys saw the men running around the barn. "Perhaps they have managed to shut the lion in the barn," said Snap. "If they are circus men they would rather capture the lion than kill him," returned the doctor's son. "Lions must be worth a good deal of money." It was now about seven o'clock, and not as light as it had been. A few minutes passed and the men did not seem to be doing anything. "Do you know what I think?" declared Whopper. "I think that lion is hiding on them." "Just what I was going to say," came from Giant. "Maybe he has crawled to some dark corner of the barn and nobody has the courage to stir him up." "Do you want to stir him up?" asked Snap dryly. "Not on your necktie!" answered the small youth. "Let him sleep in peace," added Whopper. "He won't sleep," said the doctor's son. "Something doing, now!" cried Whopper a few minutes later. He had seen one of the men run across the yard. "Why, I declare, there is the lion in the yard next door!" "How did he get there?" asked Snap. "I don't know." "That man is going to take another shot!" cried Shep as he saw a gun raised. "And there goes the lion!" cried Snap as the form of the animal arose swiftly in the air. With grace and precision the lord of the animal world cleared the back fence of the yard and crouched down in the street, close to a tree. "He's heading this way!" burst out the doctor's son. "Maybe we had better get indoors." "Oh, he can't leap up here," insisted Giant, who was brave, even though small. "We'll take no chances," was Shep's answer. "Come." He turned to the window, and so did Snap and Whopper. At that minute one of the men came around the corner of the street. The lion leaped from behind the tree into the roadway. Pulling up his gun, the man banged away wildly, for he was nervous and frightened. "Oh!" came in a groan from Giant, and his chums saw him stagger. "What is it?" asked Snap quickly. But instead of answering the small youth staggered around the piazza top. "Giant is shot!" gasped Whopper. "Catch him! He is falling off the roof!" Snap made a quick leap forward and caught Giant around the waist. Both were now on the slanting portion of the piazza roof. Snap did what he could to stay their progress, but it was in vain, and the next instant both boys slipped down over the edge. Snap clutched at a honeysuckle vine growing there, but it gave way, and a moment later the two boys rolled to the ground. CHAPTER VI SOMETHING ABOUT A CHIMPANZEE It was well that that honeysuckle vine was growing there and that it gave way slowly after Snap grasped it, for otherwise the two boys might have suffered some broken bones. As it was, Snap bumped his shoulder severely and scraped his ear on the sand of the path that ran around the side of the house. Poor Giant was unconscious, and even in that perilous moment Snap realized that his little chum had been hit by some of the shot from the gun. Whether the lad was dangerously wounded or not remained to be seen. The two boys had fallen inside the dooryard, which was separated from the street by a low fence. Hardly did they land when Snap scrambled up, dragging Giant with him. "The front door! The front door!" yelled Shep from above. "We'll let you in!" And then he leaped through the window and tore down the stairs four steps at a time, with Whopper at his heels. As Snap turned and looked out into the street he saw a sight calculated to daunt the stoutest heart. The lion was there, standing erect, with bristling mane, glaring fiercely at him. "Get away!" the boy yelled, not knowing what else to do. "Get away!" And then he picked up a whitewashed stone, one of a number bordering the garden path. With all his might he threw it at the lion and caught the beast in the head. The animal turned, slunk along the fence, and disappeared behind a tree in front of the next house. The moment the animal turned away, Snap moved toward the piazza. He had Giant in one of his arms, and in his excitement did not notice the weight of his burden. As he ascended the steps the door was flung open and Shep appeared. Then Whopper showed himself, armed with an umbrella he had snatched from the hall rack. "Where's the lion?" asked the doctor's son. "Behind the tree!" gasped Snap, and then he literally fell into the hallway with Giant still in his arm. At once the door was closed and locked again. "Was Giant shot?" queried Whopper, as he threw down the umbrella. "Yes," answered Snap. "Make a light," he added, for the hallway was in total darkness. Mrs. Carson was still upstairs, while the hired girl in her fright had fled to the garret, so the boys had to stumble around until Shep found a match and lit the lamp. Whopper and Snap carried Giant into the sitting-room and placed him on a sofa. As they did this the small youth opened his eyes and stared around wildly. "The lion! Don't let him eat me!" he muttered. "You're safe, Giant," answered the doctor's son. "I---I got shot!" "We know it. Let us see if you are badly hurt." On several occasions, in cases of accident, Shep had aided his father in caring for patients, and the knowledge thus gained now stood him in good stead. He made a close examination and found that several buckshot had grazed the small youth's temple, while one had gone through the tip of the ear. Giant's face was covered with blood, and this was washed off, and then his wounds were bathed with witch hazel and bound up. "You had a narrow escape," was the comment of the doctor's son. "A little closer and you might have been killed, or might have lost your eyesight." "That fellow with the gun was mighty careless," said Whopper. "He was excited," added Snap. "He didn't want to hit Giant." Snap said nothing about his hurt shoulder, although the bump he had received made him stiff and sore. He was thankful that the honeysuckle vine had broken the fall from the piazza roof, and that he and Giant had escaped from the clutches of the lion. The hunters of the animal had gone past the house, and now those inside heard firing in the distance. The shots gradually grew fainter and fainter, at last dying out altogether. "I guess his lionship has left town," said Shep. "Or else he is dead," added Snap. Mrs. Carson was much worried over the wounds Giant had received and insisted upon putting on them some salve. The boy declared he felt all right again and that the wounds would soon heal. "I'm used to little things like that," he said. "When we went hunting we had all sorts of things happen to us." "Mercy on us! Then you ought never to go hunting again!" declared the lady of the house. "It was a narrow escape," said Snap gravely. "You can be thankful that man didn't blow your head off. "I am thankful, Snap; and I am also thankful for what you did for me," murmured Giant, and looked at his chum in a manner that spoke volumes. It was now too late to think of going to Fairview, for the last train had already departed. And as it was, Mrs. Carson insisted upon it that the boys remain all night. "If you leave the house I'll be worried to death, thinking the lion caught you," she said. So the boys stayed over another night. Late in the evening they stopped two men who were passing the house and from them learned that the lion had been chased to the edge of a big woods north of Railings. He had been wounded, of that the men were certain, and a regular hunting party was going out in the morning to either kill or capture the beast. "The circus owner has offered a hundred dollars reward for his capture," said one of the men "So they'll get him alive if they can." "Did any other lions escape?" asked the doctor's son. "No; but one of the big monkeys is missing---the educated one." "Do you mean Abe, the educated chimpanzee?" queried Snap. "That's the fellow---the one who eats, drinks, smokes and does all sorts of stunts. He's missing, and the circus men are more worried over him than over the lion. One man said the chim---what-do-you-call-him was worth a thousand dollars." "I believe that---being educated to do so many things," said Whopper. "He sat up to a table to eat just like a man." "Did you hear how the lion and the chimpanzee happened to get away?" asked Giant. "Why, there was a report it was the fault of four rascals who used to work for the circus---three men who were discharged for getting drunk, and a boy who did stunts on the trapeze and ran away." "That boy!" cried Snap. "Oh, I don't think he had anything to do with it." "Well, that's what the circus men say. If they catch the men and the boy they'll have the whole crowd locked up." "I am sure the boy is innocent," said the doctor's son. "I got shot by somebody hunting that lion," said Giant. "Do you know who fired his shotgun out yonder?" "Oh, that was Hank Donaldson. He's always blowing about what he can do with a gun, and he was so worked up and nervous he killed Mack's dog and smashed the plate-glass window in the new five-and-ten-cent store. He got scared to death when somebody told him a boy over here fell from the roof and got hit. Is it bad?" "No, but it might have been." "You ought to pitch into Hank. He ought to know better than to fire so promiscuous-like in the city streets. He meant well, but if he had killed you, what then?" And the man passed on, shaking his head earnestly. In the morning Giant felt quite like himself and insisted upon leaving off the bandage that had been placed over his forehead. "I don't want to become an object of curiosity," he explained. "Even as it is, I suppose lots of folks will want to know all about it." While the boys were eating the door bell rang, and the hired girl announced a man to see the lad who had been shot. The visitor proved to be Hank Donaldson, a big, burly fellow, now nervous to the degree of collapsing. "I---I hope yer don't think I did it a-purpose," said Donaldson. "'Cos I didn't---I only wanted to shoot that 'ere lion, 'fore he ate sombuddy up." "I understand," answered Giant. "But you were very careless. After this you had better give up lion hunting." "I sure will. I am very sorry---yes, I am. Hope you'll forgive it." "I will---if you didn't mean it," answered Giant. "I've got a heap o' troubles, I have," went on Hank Donaldson. "Got to pay 'bout a hundred dollars fer a plate-glass winder I smashed, an' got to pay fer a dorg, too. Ye don't catch me huntin' lions no more." And he heaved a mountainous sigh. A few minutes later he departed, saying he hoped Giant would soon get over his hurts. "I guess he will be punished enough when he pays for the glass and the dog," said the small youth, and smiled in spite of his wounds. Getting a ladder, the boys fixed up the brokendown honeysuckle vine, and then bid good-by to Mrs. Carson. She was still a bit timid about letting them go. "You keep your eyes open for that lion," she said. "And if you see him, run into the first house or store that's handy. Don't think you can shoo him off again with a stone, because it isn't likely you'll be able to." "We'll be on our guard, aunty," answered Shep. The circus had left town, as it was billed to perform in another city forty miles away. But several employees had been left behind, and these men, aided by a number of others, went on a long hunt for the lion and the chimpanzee. The lion had been seen making for the woods, but what had become of the chimpanzee nobody knew. "The loss of that chimpanzee is a big one for the circus," said Snap, while on the way home. "Just see how they feature him on the bills. They have other lions, but Abe was their only man-monkey." What the youth said about the chimpanzee was true. Abe, as he had been named, was a wonderful drawing-card. At first a reward of fifty dollars was offered for his return, and later this sum was increased. It may be as well to state here that the owner of the circus suspected that the men who had been discharged by him had the chimpanzee and would have it returned to him when the reward was large enough. What had become of the men nobody knew, and the boy acrobat had likewise disappeared. "That boy interested me," said Snap. "I'd like to meet him again and have a talk with him." "Maybe we will meet him again some time," answered the doctor's son. "Oh, it's not likely. There won't be anything to keep him in these parts. If he is a regular acrobat, more than likely he'll join some other circus or some vaudeville show." "He didn't look as if he liked the life," said Whopper. "That's the way it struck me," came from Giant. When the boys got home they had quite a story to tell. Mrs. Caslette was much alarmed over the injuries her son had received and insisted upon it that Giant let Dr. Reed attend him, which the physician did willingly. "Not much damaged," said the doctor. "But he had what folks call a close shave." The boys told the doctor about what they had learned from Mr. Jally, and in turn he gave them instructions concerning the photographs he desired them to obtain during their outing in the Windy Mountains. As there might be a little delay in getting the new cameras and in getting some other supplies the start of the trip was postponed until Tuesday. "And how do you propose to go?" asked Snap of the doctor's son. "Father thinks it would be wise for us to row to Firefly Lake. Then we can hide our boat and tote our supplies over to the mountains." "That suits me, Shep." "Did Ham Spink and his crowd go that way?" asked Whopper. "I think they did, but I am not sure." "Well, I don't want to meet them if they did," came from Giant. "They can keep their distance and we'll keep ours." CHAPTER VII UP THE RIVER Coming from Sunday-school on Sunday afternoon the boys fell in with Jed Sanborn, the old hunter who had gone out with them on more than one trip. They were rather surprised to see the man carrying his shotgun, for Jed usually believed in respecting the Sabbath day. "Been out hunting?" queried Snap as all came to a halt. "Well, yes, kind of," answered the old hunter. "But not any reg'lar game." "I didn't think you'd be out on Sunday," said Whopper. "I took it into my head yesterday to look fer that lion as got away at Railings," was Jed Sanborn's answer. "Somebuddy said as how he was keepin' shady over to Merrick's woods, so I tramped over. Stayed in the woods all night an' this mornin'." "Did you see the lion?" asked Snap eagerly. "Nary a hair o' him, lad, an' I don't think he's in the woods, nuther." "But he must be somewhere," insisted Giant. "Thet might be, but he ain't in Merrick's woods. I'll bet a glass o' cider on't." Jed Sanborn looked at the boys and grinned. "Goin' out huntin' ag'in, so I hear." "Yes." "Whereabouts this time---up whar ye see the ghost?" And the old man chuckled, thinking of what the ghost had proved to be. "No. We are going over to Windy Mountains this trip," answered the doctor's son. "That far, eh? It's quite a trip. Hope ye find it wuth so long a journey. I don't know as the game thar is any better nor around the lakes close to hum." "We are going for the fun of camping partly," said Shep. He did not care to say anything about the picture-taking for his father. "Do you expect to come out that way?" "I might." "If you do you must hunt us up," put in Snap. "I'll do thet, sure pop," answered Jed Sanborn. He started off, then turned back. "Oh, I say!" he called. "What is it?" asked Whopper. "It's about thet pesky Ham Spink," went on the old hunter. "Did I tell ye about my spring?" "No. What of it?" asked Giant. "Ye know I've got a nice spring o' cold water up by my cabin. Well, some days ago Ham Spink an' thet Dudder boy came up there, an' on the sly caved the spring in on me. I caught 'em coming away. I had my shotgun with me, an' I was mad, good an' proper. I said they must fix the spring or somebuddy'd git shot. They got scart, I kin tell ye, an' they got on their hands an' knees in the sand an' rocks an' mud and worked like beavers till they had the spring fixed. It jest about ruined their clothes, an' when they went off they was as mad as hops. Spink said he would square up, but he's a blower an' I ain't afraid o' him." "It was just like Ham's meanness, and Carl Dudder's meanness, too," said Snap. The new cameras and supplies had come in on Saturday night, and on Monday morning the boys received a new tent from Dr. Reed, and a tarpaulin from Mr. Dodge. Mr. Dawson gave the boys some blankets, and Mrs. Caslette promised to supply them with a hamper of table delicacies. "With so many good things we'll have a better time than ever before," said Snap. "Nothing like winding up the summer in good shape," answered the doctor's son. The chums went over their boat with care, to make certain that it did not leak, and then looked over their guns and the rest of their outfit. On Monday evening everything was taken down to the boathouse for readiness early Tuesday morning. "I am glad of one thing," remarked Whopper. "Ham Spink and his crowd are not on hand to molest our things, as they tried to do before." "Well, we gave 'em a warm reception when they did come to the boathouse," answered Snap with a grin, referring to an event related in detail in "_The Young Hunters of the Lake_." For this particular outing the supplies were extra numerous, and the boys knew it was going to be no light task to transport them by boat and pack. "We'll have to make the best of it," said the doctor's son. "When we are in the boat we'll have to row with care, and if we can't tote the stuff over to the mountains in one trip we'll make two." It was somewhat gloomy Monday evening, and the boys were fearful that it might rain by morning. But the clouds cleared away during the night and the sun came up in the morning as brightly as ever. Each got an early breakfast, and by eight o'clock all were assembled at the boathouse. "Everything all right?" asked Whopper, who was the last to arrive. "All O.K.," answered Snap. Soon the supplies were stowed away with care, and then the chums entered the craft. It was agreed that two should row at a time, and Snap and Giant took up the oars. Several men and boys had gathered to see them start. "Don't forget to bring back another bear!" sang out one man. "If you should happen to see that lion, better run for it," cautioned another. "We don't expect to see the lion, and we aren't looking for more bears," answered Snap. "We are going to take it easy this trip." "Well, I wish you luck," said the man. Then the boys set up a cheer from the shore, and the chums answered it. "Say, Snap, what makes you think this is going to be a real quiet picnic?" asked Whopper on the way. "Now, I expect to bag about fifty rabbits, a hundred partridges, some wild turkeys, a bear or two, and that lion in the bargain!" "Wow!" gasped Giant. "Whopper is to the front once more. Why not make it two lions while you are at it?" "Because there is only one, and I don't want to be---er---piggish." "Why not say lionish?" questioned Shep. "Aren't you going to hunt at all?" demanded the boy who loved to exaggerate. "Of course," drawled Giant. "I am going to hunt ants, and June bugs, and horseflies, and worms, and-----" "Oh, come off!" growled Whopper. "You know what I mean." "To be sure we'll hunt," said the doctor's son. "But the cameras are going ahead of the guns this trip." "Speaking of cameras and worms puts me in mind of something I heard yesterday," said Snap. "It's about trick photography. An amateur photographer showed a picture he had of what looked like a fierce snake on a rail fence. By and by he gave the trick away. The snake was nothing but a garden worm wound around some little sticks and toothpicks, and the picture had been snapped at close range." "That's like a trick picture I heard about, taken on two plates," said Giant. "It was one of a man wheeling himself in a wheelbarrow." "I know of three fellows who took a queer-looking picture," said Whopper. "Now, this is true," he continued, noticing the others look of doubt. "They got an oilcloth sign, a square one, and then one fellow got up on another fellow's shoulders. The two fellows held the sign in front of them while the third chap took the picture. When the photo was printed it looked as if the boy carrying the sign was about nine feet high." "I heard of that in a different way," said Snap. "A fellow out in the country took two horses back of a henhouse. He had the head of one horse sticking beyond one end of the henhouse and the hind legs of the second horse sticking out at the other end, and the picture looked as if that horse was fifteen or twenty feet long." On they went along the river, past Pop Lundy's orchard, where they had once had quite an adventure. It was rather warm, but a light breeze cooled those at the oars. Snap and Giant rowed for about a mile and were then relieved by their chums, and thus they changed about until it was time for lunch, when they ran ashore at an inviting spot. "Rowing makes a fellow hungry," observed Whopper. "I think I can eat at least fifteen sandwiches, not to mention some cake and a few pieces of pie." "Perhaps you want the whole lunch yourself," said Snap. "Well, you don't get it." "Anybody want coffee?" asked Shep. "If so we'll have to start up a fire." "Don't bother to-day. Water is good enough," said Giant, and so they rested in the shade of the trees and ate their sandwiches and a pie Mrs. Caslette had baked for them, washing the food down with water from a handy spring. "I am going to take my first picture," said Snap, and made the others get in a group, each with a piece of pie in his hand. He took a snapshots and then marked the picture in a book he had brought along for that purpose. "What do you call it?" asked Whopper. "Pie-ous Time," answered Snap, and then dodged a tin cup the other flung at him. "We must try to reach Lake Cameron before night," said Shep, when they were once more on the way. "I shouldn't care to camp out along the river." "Oh, you might find a worse spot," answered Snap. "However, we'll get to the lake if we can." As my old readers know, Lake Cameron was connected with the river by a narrow creek, the banks of which were overhung with bushes. Since the boys had come home from their last outing the rains had been heavy, consequently the creek was well filled with water. "This makes getting through easy, and I am glad of it," said Whopper. "I was afraid we'd have to carry some of the stuff around, so as to lighten the boat." "Are you going up the lake shore very far tonight?" questioned Giant. It was already growing dark. "No, I think we had best camp near the mouth of the creek," answered the doctor's son, and the others agreed with him. As soon as the lake was reached Giant, who was the best fisherman of the crowd, baited up and threw out his line. For some time he did not get a bite, but then came a sharp tug, so dear to the heart of the angler. "What have you got?" asked Whopper. "Might be an elephant, but I---I guess not," cried the small youth. The others stopped rowing and Giant began to play his catch with care. Soon he brought to light a fine pickerel, and dropped the fish in the bottom of the boat. "Good for Giant!" cried Snap. "A couple of more like that and we'll have a dandy fish supper." Again the line was baited and thrown in and the boys took up their rowing. Presently came another tug and again Giant was successful, bringing in a fish several inches larger than the first. "This is pickerel day," cried Whopper "Reckon I'll try my luck," and he did, and presently brought in a pickerel almost as large as the others. But that was the end of the luck for the time being. "Never mind," said Shep. "Three are enough. Now to land and get our camp into shape for the night---and then for supper." And a few minutes later a landing was made. CHAPTER VIII THE FIRST NIGHT OUT The boys knew the shores of Lake Cameron well, having camped there before, and they selected a spot that just suited their wants. The rowboat was drawn up in a tiny cove and made fast, and then all hands set to work getting the tent and some of the outfit ashore. The things left in the boat were covered carefully with the tarpaulin, to keep off the night dampness and a possible rain. Shep had been selected as the leader during this outing, on account of what his father had done for the club, and he now directed Giant and Whopper to build the fire and get supper ready, while he and Snap erected the tent and cut some pine boughs for bedding. "It will be almost warm enough to-night to sleep out of doors," said the doctor's son. "But it seems more natural to sleep under some kind of a cover." He and Snap took the ax and soon cut down three slender saplings and trimmed them. Two were planted in the ground where the tent was to be erected and the third was laid across the top, in little limb-crotches left for that purpose. Then the canvas was thrown over and pegged down tightly, sides and back. The front of the tent had a double flap, which could be tied shut with strings if desired. Long before the tent was up and furnished with bedding of pine boughs, Giant and Whopper had the camp fire started, and soon an appetizing odor of coffee and frying fish filled the air. It was now quite dark, and the glare of the fire made the scene a pleasant one. "Camping wouldn't be camping without a fire," observed Snap, as, having finished his share of the work, he sat down on a grassy hillock to rest and watch Giant and Whopper getting ready to serve the evening meal. "Right you are, Snap," answered Shep. "Even in the hottest of weather I love to see the glare and the flickering shadows." "I always think of good stories and plenty to eat when I see a camp fire," came from Giant. "Well, I reckon we are going to have the eating, even if we don't have the stories," said the doctor's son. "What's the matter with Whopper spinning one of his outrageous yarns?" suggested Snap. "He must be fairly aching to tell something marvelous." "I tell only truthful tales," came from the storyteller modestly. "Now, if you want to hear-----" "Truthful tales!" burst out Giant. "Say, Whopper, that's the very biggest whopper you ever told!" "All right, then, I won't tell any stories," returned the other lad reproachfully. "Oh, yes, you will; you can't help it," said Snap. Supper was soon served. It consisted of bread and butter and coffee and pickerel done to a turn, topped off with some crullers from a bagful donated by Mrs. Caslette. The boys took their time eating, and when they had finished the bones of the fish were picked clean. Then Giant said something about a train falling off a bridge, and that started Whopper to telling a most marvelous story of an engineer who, seeing that a bridge was down, put on all speed and rushed his train over a gap thirty feet wide in safety. The others listened with sober faces until Whopper had finished, and then burst out laughing. "What did I tell you?" cried Snap. "I said Whopper couldn't help telling a yarn." "And such a one, too!" added Giant. "And of course we all believe it," came from the doctor's son. "Well, I had to do something---to help pass the time," said Whopper a bit sheepishly. "Sure you did," said Snap heartily. "It's all right, Whopper---only don't ask us to believe such a story." "Is anybody going to stand guard to-night?" asked Giant to change the subject. "What's the use?" questioned Snap. "I don't think anybody or anything will come to disturb us." "Well, you can never tell," said Shep slowly. "But if you fellows don't care to stand guard we'll let it go at that." "Oh, it's for you to say, Shep---you are leader this trip." "Well, I guess we can all turn in." And turn in they did about nine o'clock, with the understanding that they were to have breakfast at six in the morning and continue their journey as soon after that as possible. Whether he felt the responsibility of leadership or not it would be hard to say, but certain it is that the doctor's son did not sleep near as soundly as did the others. He was very restless, and when he dozed off it was to dream of the lion that had escaped from the circus. He imagined that the animal had followed them to their camp and was bending over him and licking his face. He uttered a groan of terror and sat up and opened his eyes. As he did this a dark form leaped over him and out of the open tent. The fire had burned low, so what the form was Shep could not tell. "Help!" screamed the doctor's son. He was not yet fully awake. "Wha---what's the matter?" spluttered Snap, throwing aside his blanket. "What's wrong?" came from Whopper and Giant simultaneously. "Something---a wild animal---in here---jumped over me!" gasped Shep. "It just went outside!" "Oh, you are dreaming, Shep," said Snap. "No, I'm not. I saw it---felt it! Let me get my gun!" The doctor's son threw off his blanket, leaped up and grasped his shotgun, that hung on one of the tent poles. He stepped to the opening of the tent and peered out anxiously. "See anything?" demanded Whopper. He and the others were now up, and each was arming himself. "N---no." "I told you you were dreaming," came from Snap. "Too many crullers for supper," was Giant's comment. "Sometimes they lay like lead in a fellow's stomach and give him all sorts of dreams." "It wasn't the crullers," persisted the doctor's son. "I'm going outside and investigate." And he stepped out in the direction of the camp fire. "Be careful," warned Snap. "If any wild beasts are around you want to be on your guard." The doctor's son looked around with care, but could see no trace of the night visitor. He stirred up the camp fire and soon had a bright blaze going. The others had followed him outside and they stood shivering in the damp air. "False alarm, I guess," said Giant, yawning. "What time is it?" "One o'clock," answered Whopper, after consulting his watch. "Say, this is a dandy way of breaking up one's rest," he added sarcastically. "If you don't believe I saw something---and felt something---you needn't," returned Shep tartly. "Must have been a sand flea, or a water bug." "Come, Whopper, don't get mad," came from Snap. "If Shep-----" "There it is, behind the bushes!" burst out the doctor's son. "I just saw its eyes shining!" As he spoke he raised his shotgun. But the eyes had disappeared. "I saw something," came from Giant. "See, it's moving---back of the huckleberry bush." Something was moving, that was evident, but what it was none of the young hunters could make out. Shep raised his gun again. "Shall I take a chance and fire?" he asked of the others. "Might as well," answered Whopper. "It couldn't be anything but a wild animal." "Wait," cried Snap. He raised his voice. "Who is there?" he called out. "Answer, or we'll shoot!" For reply there came a sound that thoroughly astonished the boys. It was the bark of a dog, low and uncertain. Then there stepped into view a collie, wagging his tail doubtfully. "A dog!" cried Giant. "Come here! come here!" he called, and gave an inviting whistle. Slowly the dog came forward, still wagging his tail doubtfully. When he was quite close he sat up on his haunches and began to move his fore paws up and down. "He's begging!" cried Snap. "He must be hungry." "I suppose he smelled our food and came for some," said Giant. "Good little dog!" he cried. "Come here!" And as he snapped his fingers the collie came up to him and allowed the small youth to pat him on the head. "That's your wild beast, Shep," said Whopper. "Well, I knew it was something," answered the doctor's son. "That dog must have been in the tent." "More than likely," answered Snap. "See how friendly he is," he added, for the collie was now leaping from one to another of the boys and barking joyfully. Giant gave him a cruller and he ate the dainty greedily. "He's half starved," said Snap. "Must have wandered off into the woods and got lost." "Is there a name on his collar?" asked Whopper. "No, only a license number," answered Giant after an examination. "Looks to me as if he might be a valuable animal." "I think I've seen that collie before," said Shep. "So you did---in the tent," said Whopper quickly, and set up a laugh. "Oh, you know what I mean. He has a regular star on his breast. Yes, I am sure I've seen him somewhere, but where I can't remember." "He ought to be returned to his owner," said Snap. "But how we are going to do it I don't know. I don't care to go back just for the dog." "Nor I," added Giant. "Let us take him along and bring him back with us when we come." "If he'll stay with us," came from Whopper. "He may---if we feed him well," answered the doctor's son. They let the dog have another cruller and the heads of the fish, and the animal made a meal of them. The boys felt cold and tired and crawled back into the tent to finish their night's rest. Soon the collie came nosing at the opening. "Come here!" said Giant in a low voice, and instantly the dog nestled down at his side, and there he remained until daylight. "We can take him in some of our pictures," said the small youth. "He'll add to the picturesqueness." "What are you going to call him?" asked Whopper. "Sphinx." "And why Sphinx?" asked Snap. "Because he won't tell us who he is, where he came from, or anything about himself." "Oh, that's not a pretty name," cried the doctor's son. "I vote we call him Wags, because he wags his tail so much." "All right, Wags it is," said Giant. "What do you say, Wags?" he added, turning to the dog. The collie barked and wagged his tail vigorously. Evidently he was perfectly satisfied. As the lads had no more game or fish to eat, they made a hasty meal of bacon, bread, crullers and coffee. As soon as the repast was over they took down the tent and placed that and the other things on board the rowboat. The collie had been fed and was more frisky than ever. "Wonder if he'll go into the boat with us?" said Snap. "Some dogs don't like the water." "Most collies do," answered Giant. "I'll try him." He called Wags, and the dog leaped into the craft and took his place at the bow. "He'll do for a lookout," said Whopper. "Come on, it's time to start." They looked around the temporary camp, to make certain that nothing had been left behind, then entered the rowboat and shoved off. Snap and Whopper took the oars, and soon they were on the journey up Lake Cameron to Firefly Lake. "Don't forget one thing," said Snap shortly after starting. "If possible we want to bring down some sort of game for dinner. It won't do to use up our canned things and that stuff." "Everybody watch out," said Giant. "And if we can't shoot something, why, toward dinner time, I'll try my hand at fishing again." CHAPTER IX INTO THE RAPIDS It was another ideal day, and the young hunters felt in the best of spirits. Whopper felt so good that presently he burst out singing an old school song, and the others joined in. "That's all right, and very good, but if we want any game we've got to keep quiet," said the doctor's son after the song was ended. "Right you are," answered Whopper promptly. "And as I'd rather eat later than sing now I'll shut up." They followed the shore line of Lake Cameron, heading for the rocky watercourse that connected that body of water with Firefly Lake. The eyes of all were on the alert for game, and toward the middle of the forenoon Giant called a halt. "I saw something in the trees yonder," he said, pointing ashore. "Looked to me as if they might be partridge." "Partridge would suit me first rate," answered Snap. "Let us land and try our luck." "Making as little noise as possible they beached the rowboat and Giant silenced the dog, not knowing what he might do while on a hunt. "Perhaps he's a good bird dog and perhaps he isn't," he said. "We'll take no chances." Each of the young hunters had his shotgun, and one after another they followed Shep to the spot where the game had been seen among the trees. High among the branches of a silver maple tree they saw some ruffed grouse, commonly known to many sportsmen as partridge. "There's our chance," said the doctor's son. "Who is to fire?" "Let us all take a chance," pleaded Giant. "Just to open the outing, you know." Shep was willing, and said he would give the word. With great caution they crept as close as possible to the grouse. The birds were on three branches of the maple, one over the other. Silently the four boy hunters raised their firearms. Shep looked at them and then along the barrel of his piece. "Fire!" said he, and one shot rang out after another quickly. There was a mad whirring and fluttering from the ruffed grouse. Two dropped like lead, while two others flew around in a circle, badly wounded. Then the boys discharged their guns again, and wounded two more birds. As the game came down they rushed in and wrung the necks of those not already dead. "Six, all told," said Giant proudly. "That's one and a half apiece." "Not so bad," answered Snap. "It's dandy!" shouted Whopper, throwing up his cap in his delight. "Now we can have roast partridge for dinner, and supper, too, if we want to." "Right you are," came from Shep. "I believe we all made a hit," he added. "A hit?" repeated Whopper. "We all made home runs!" And at this reference to baseball all of the boys laughed. Taking the game to the rowboat, they resumed their journey, and by noon reached the watercourse connecting the two lakes. Here they stopped at a spot well known to them and built a camp fire, and here they roasted all of the game, fearing it might not keep in such hot weather. "I'm going to try baking 'em in mud," said Giant, who had learned the trick from Jed Sanborn. Leaving the feathers on the grouse the lad plastered each bird thickly with some clayey mud, and then placed them in the fire to roast, or bake, as he called it. He watched them with care and tried one frequently to see if it was done. "Now I guess this will do," he said at last, and cracked the baked mud from the grouse. With the mud came the feathers of the bird, leaving the meat clean. The grouse was tender and juicy and done to a turn. "Giant, you'll have to get a job as a chef in a big hotel," said the doctor's son, smacking his lips over the feast. "This game certainly couldn't be, better." "Why not leave some of the partridge right in the baked mud?" suggested Snap. "It ought to keep well that way." "We can try it," said Whopper. The collie was given his share of the dinner and appeared to enjoy it as much as the boys. He acted as if he felt perfectly at home with the young hunters, and made no offer to leave them. "If he wasn't such a fine dog I'd put him down as an outcast," said Shep. "But nobody would abandon such a fine animal---he's worth too much money." Once again the boy hunters proceeded on their way. As they entered the watercourse connecting the two lakes they noticed that the current was flowing swiftly. "The heavy rains are responsible for this," said Snap. "We want to be careful, or the boat will be smashed on some of the rocks." "We might get out and walk---that is, some of us---if the shore wasn't so rough and rocky," said Whopper. "It looks wilder than ever now, doesn't it, boys?" It certainly did look wilder---or was it only the rushing of the water that made it appear so? They rowed on with caution, two at the oars and two doing the steering with poles. Wags sat in the bow as before, watching proceedings in silence. About half the distance to Firefly Lake had been covered when they came to a sharp turn in the watercourse. Here the water boiled and foamed around several sharp rocks. "Beware of the rocks!" sang out the doctor's Son. "To the right! To the right!" yelled Whopper. "It's too shallow on the other side!" They tried to turn the craft to the right, but the current seemed too strong for them. The boat swung around and hit one of the rocks a sharp blow. There was a little splash as the collie went overboard. Then came a big souse, that covered those who remained in the boat with spray. "Giant is overboard!" cried Whopper. "And so is the dog!" "Let the dog take care of himself," cried Snap. "Grab Giant!" Whopper turned to catch the lad who had gone overboard, but the current was too quick for him, and the small youth was sent whirling out of his reach. For the moment it looked as if the rowboat would either go over or be stove in on the rocks, and those left on board had to turn their attention to the craft. They saw Giant floundering in the boiling water, but could do nothing to aid him. "Swing her around and pull for shore; it's our only chance!" cried Snap. "Quick, now---or we'll all go to the bottom!" Fighting desperately, the three lads swung the craft around slowly. It scraped on more of the rocks, and one of the oars was caught and snapped off like a pipe-stem. But then the boat struck water that was a little more calm, and soon they reached a cove and felt themselves safe for the time being. "Where is Giant?" was Shep's question as soon as they knew the outfit was secure. "There he is, on one of the rocks," answered Whopper. "And here comes the dog," he added as the collie came battling bravely toward them. Soon Wags was on shore and shaking himself vigorously, acting as if such a bath was a daily occurrence. "Hello, you fellows!" came in Giant's voice. He was sprawled out on a rock in midstream, sixty feet away. "Are you hurt?" questioned Shep anxiously. "No; the water was pretty soft," answered the small youth. "But I say, how am I going to get ashore?" "Can't you wade it?" asked Whopper. "No; don't try that---the current is too swift," cried Snap. "Well, we can't take the boat to him," said Whopper. "I know that." "We might throw him a line," suggested the doctor's son. "Yes, that's an idea." A light but strong line was brought forth and Shep curled it up as a cowboy does a lasso. Then he made a cast, but the line fell short. "Let me try it," said Snap. One after another the boys on shore tried to reach Giant with the line but failed. After Whopper had made his cast Wags, who had been sitting on a rock watching proceedings with interest, gave a bark and caught the end of the line in his teeth. "There's an idea!" cried Snap. "Let the dog carry the line." "Will he do it?" questioned Whopper. "We can try him and see." The end of the line was made fast to the collie's collar, and Giant was told to call him. "Come, Wags! That's a good dog! Come!" called the small youth, and whistled and snapped his fingers. At first Wags appeared to be doubtful, but finally he ventured into the water. Then he began to swim steadily toward the rock, dragging the line behind him. "What a shame if the current carries him away!" murmured Whopper. "We'll not allow that," answered the doctor's son. "If he loses ground we can haul him in." Slowly but surely the dog drew closer to the rock. At last he got within Giant's reach, and the youth caught him and pulled him up. "Tie the rope about your waist and we'll haul you to shore!" sang out Shep. "Bring the dog on your shoulder if you can." "I'll try it," answered Giant. It was no easy matter for him, on the wet and slippery rock, to adjust the rope and get the collie on his shoulder. But presently he announced that he was ready, and the boys on shore commenced to haul in. Down in the madly rushing water went Giant, and it was all he could do to keep his feet. But luck was with him, and in a very few minutes he and the dog were safe. "That was quite an adventure," he said when he had recovered his breath. "You went overboard in a great hurry," remarked Whopper. "And so did Wags." "The shock to the boat did it. It made me lose my balance before I was aware." "Let us be thankful Giant is safe, and Wags," said the doctor's son. "And thankful, too, that the boat didn't go over. If it had our outing would have been spoiled." "We've got to be mighty careful how we travel through the rest of this river," remarked Snap. "The heavy rains have made a fierce torrent of it." It must be confessed that the boys did not know exactly what to do. Should they venture on the river again, or carry the outfit to the beginning of Firefly Lake? "I've got an idea," said Shep at last. "You can follow it or not, as you think best. My idea is to have two of the crowd take the boat down and the two others walk to Firefly Lake, carrying the most precious of the outfit." "That suits me," said Snap. "Who will walk and who take the boat?" questioned Whopper. "I might as well go in the boat---I'm wet already," said Giant, smiling grimly. "The three of us can draw lots as to who shall go with Giant," said the doctor's son. The drawing was at once made, and it fell to Snap to go with the small youth. The cameras and guns were taken from the rowboat and also a few other things. Then the doctor's son and Whopper aided the others in getting the boat into the rushing river once more. "Take care of yourselves!" cried Shep. "If all goes right you'll get to the lake long before we do." In a moment the boat was caught by the current and whirled onward. Giant and Snap had all they could do to steer it. But, fortunately, they found no more such bad places as those already encountered, and in less than an hour found themselves floating on Firefly Lake, safe and sound. "The others might have come with us after all," declared Giant. "Wonder how long it will take them to reach here?" "I don't know; it depends on how rough they find the way. Maybe a couple of hours," answered Snap. "We may as well go ashore, start up a camp and wait for them." CHAPTER X THE CABIN IN THE WOODS The doctor's son and Whopper had no easy time of it making their way through the bushes and around the rocks which lined the watercourse between the two lakes. There was no trail on that side of the stream, and they had to "go it blind," to use Shep's words. "Say, this is worse than climbing a mountain!" gasped Whopper, after slipping and sliding over a number of rocks and coming down rather suddenly in a hollow. "Rather knocks the breath out of a fellow," returned Shep. "Take care that you don't sprain an ankle, Whopper." "That's what I'm watching out for. I don't want my whole outing spoiled." After a large amount of hard walking and climbing they managed to cover about half the distance to Firefly Lake. But by that time both were so exhausted the doctor's son called a halt. "No use of killing ourselves," he said. "We can't go any farther than the lake to-day, anyway." "Hope Snap and Giant wait for us at the mouth of the river," said Whopper. "I don't want to tramp along the lake shore afoot." "Oh, they'll wait, and mostly likely start a camp." "Say, if I remember rightly the river makes a bend to the right here," went on Whopper after a pause. "And if that is so, what's the matter with our striking inland a short distance and cutting off some of the walk?" "I'm willing---anything to reach Firefly Lake before it gets too dark to see." Having rested themselves, the boys commenced to draw away from the river shore, taking to the woods, where the walking was easier. It was now close to six o'clock, and the sun was going down over the trees to the westward. "Hope they have supper ready by the time we get there," said Whopper after a period of silence. "This transit is making me as hungry as a bear." "Same here. Well, we'll have the partridge to fall back on, even if they don't cook anything else." The two young hunters tramped on. As they walked they kept their eyes open for a possible sight of game. So far all they had seen were some birds, not worth shooting. Another quarter of a mile was covered when they came to a patch of spruces. As they advanced they saw several rabbits leap from beside one of the trees. "A chance for a shot!" cried the doctor's son, and speedily swung his shotgun into position, an example followed by his chum. Both young hunters blazed away without delay, and each was successful in laying a rabbit low. Before they could fire again the rest of the game was out of sight. "Not very large," was Shep's comment as they picked up the game. "But the rabbits are young, and they'll make fine eating." "It is a good thing that new game law isn't in effect yet," said Whopper. "If it was we'd not be allowed to shoot rabbits until next October." "You are right, Whopper---hunting will be a good deal more restricted after the new laws go into effect." Placing the rabbits in a gamebag, the two chums walked on, past the clump of spruces and then across a little clearing. Here, much to their surprise, they came in sight of a dilapidated cabin. It was a small affair of rough logs with a rude stone chimney and one window and one door. One end of the cabin sagged greatly, as if on the point of falling down. "I hadn't any idea this was here," was the comment of the doctor's son. "Wonder who it can belong to?" "Perhaps some hunters put it up in days gone by," returned Whopper. "It doesn't look as if it was inhabited." "Let's go in and take a look around," suggested Shep. It was his delight to poke around in new and odd places. "We don't want to lose time," was his chum's reply. "It will be dark before you know it." "Oh, it won't take long to look," answered Shep. The old cabin was surrounded by weeds and bushes, and they had to fairly work their way to the doorway. "Somebody has been here, that's certain," cried the doctor's son. "Here are eggshells and newly picked chicken feathers." "Hello, in there!" cried Whopper, poking his head into the small doorway. He could not see, for the cabin inside was dark. Scarcely had the word been uttered when a most surprising thing happened. Something whizzed through the air, directly between the heads of the two boy hunters. It was a good-sized chunk of wood, and it struck a rock outside with a thud. "Why---why---stop that!" stammered Whopper, and fell back, and Shep did the same. "Evidently somebody doesn't want visitors," was the comment of the doctor's son. "I say," he called out, "what do you mean by heaving that wo-----" Crash! From the interior of the cabin came another chunk of wood, a gnarled root, just grazing Shep's shoulder. Then a stone followed, striking Whopper a glancing blow on the hip. Both lads retreated in confusion. "Well, of all things!" gasped the doctor's son when he could get his breath. "That's a cordial welcome, I must say." "Have you any idea who it was?" "Not the slightest. It was too dark to see anybody." "Couldn't be any of the Ham Spink crowd?" "No. I don't think they'd treat us in just that way." "Maybe it's some crazy chap." "That's more like it---some hermit like old Peter Peterson," returned Shep, referring to an old man who lived near the lakes and who rarely showed himself in any of the settlements. "Peter Peterson wasn't crazy; he didn't heave things at folks." "Let us see if we can get him to come out. I'd like to see what sort of a chap he is." Keeping at what they thought was a safe distance, the two boy hunters called loudly half a dozen times. No answer was returned. "Perhaps he's deaf," suggested Whopper. "More likely he doesn't want to show himself." "Maybe it's a she, Shep." "Possibly. If it's a woman she must be a regular witch. Let us call again." They did so. At first they heard nothing in return. Then came a strange sound from the cabin, and for one brief instant a dark, impish face showed itself at the broken window. Then the face disappeared and a stone came whizzing toward the lads' heads. They ducked just in time, or one or the other might have been seriously hurt. "Let's get out---no use of staying here to be a target!" cried Whopper, who was growing nervous. "No telling what that fellow---or woman---may do next. Might come for us with a carving knife!" And he hurried away, with the doctor's son beside him. They did not slacken their pace until the dilapidated cabin had disappeared from view. "Did you see him---or her?" asked Shep. "Just about and no more. What a dried-up, hateful face!" "Just what I thought. I'll wager that that person, whoever he or she is, is as mad as a---a crazy person can be." "I believe you, and I don't know as I want to go near that cabin again." "We ought to tell the authorities about it, though. That person might kill somebody some day." "Well, we can tell the police when we go back." "Could it be some tramp, who is living on farmers' chickens and the like?" "It might be. But I think it's somebody who's crazy. A tramp wouldn't find it any fun to live away out here. Why, it must be two miles, at least, to the nearest farm." "More like three." "Tramps like to stay near the farms and near railroads. No, that's some kind of a crazy hermit." Discussing the happening from every point of view, the two lads trudged on. It was now growing dark rapidly, and they were anxious to reach Firefly Lake. "Hope we haven't missed the way," said the doctor's son presently. "Seems to me we ought to be getting to the river or the lake soon." "Here's a rise of ground. I'm going up there and take a look," answered his chum. From the small hill they made out the glint of water in the distance, and they also saw the glare of the camp fire Snap and Giant had started. "Might as well steer straight for the camp fire," said Shep. "It will save us some walking." When within a few hundred feet of the camp they set up a loud whistle, to which the others immediately responded. Then Snap and Giant came to meet them, and relieved them of some of the things. A little later all were seated around the camp fire. "So you got through all O.K., eh?" said the doctor's son, after Snap and Giant had told their story. "Well, so did we---but we had some queer things happen." And then he and Whopper told of the tumbles, and of what had occurred at the old cabin in the woods. "Say, wish I had been along!" cried Snap. "I'd like to investigate that cabin and see who is there." "You wouldn't want to investigate a block of wood or a stone thrown at your head, would you?" demanded Whopper sarcastically. "Maybe we could go there when the hermit---or whatever he or she is---is asleep," went on Snap. He always believed in getting at the bottom of a mystery. "If you go there you'll go without me," declared Whopper firmly. "I wouldn't tempt that---er---crazy fellow again for a billion dollars! Why, he might come out and carve a chap all up with a butcher knife, or blow your head off with a gun!" Supper was ready, and while they were talking the young hunters managed to stow away a hearty meal, after, which all felt better. But the experiences of the day had worn them out, and each was glad enough to retire early. "We want to be stirring early to-morrow," said the doctor's son. "We want to go up the lake and then begin to tote the outfit over the hills to the mountains." "How about it---going to set a guard?" asked Giant. "Wonder if we can't put Wags on guard?" asked Snap. "I think he'd bark if anything came to disturb us," came from Whopper. "We'll tie him to the front tent pole," said the doctor's son. "Then he won't be able to run off, and more than likely he'll bark if anything goes wrong." They fixed the camp fire and then tied the collie fast by a cord slipped under his collar. Evidently Wags was used to this treatment, for he did not seem to mind it in the least. The young hunters entered the tent, and in less than a quarter of an hour all were sound asleep. Thus an hour passed. Then, of a sudden, all the lads found themselves wide awake. Wags was barking furiously, and the hair of his body seemed to be fairly standing on end. CHAPTER XI A STRANGE MEETING "Something is wrong!" cried Snap, leaping up and feeling for his gun. "What is it, Wags?" The dog kept on barking and commenced to tug on the cord that held him. "Shall I let him loose?" asked Whopper. All the boys were now on their feet, and he and Giant were rubbing their eyes. The wind had shifted and was blowing the smoke of the smoldering camp fire toward the tent. "Don't do it---yet," answered the doctor's son. "He might bite somebody. Let us go outside first." "Maybe it's that crazy hermit," suggested Whopper, and gave a little shiver. He could still see that impish face glaring at him. "Be careful." One after another the young hunters stepped into the open, each with his gun ready for use. Shep stirred up the camp fire and threw on some lightwood, causing a renewed blaze. "I don't see anything wrong," said Shep after a long look around. "See any wild beasts?" asked Giant. "Wags would bark at a wild beast, I am sure." "Nothing in sight now." All walked completely around the tent and the camp fire, but failed to see anything out of the ordinary. The collie had now ceased barking and was wagging his tail, apparently as happy and free from anxiety as ever. "The dog must have dreamed he heard something," grumbled Whopper. "Hang the luck! I was so sleepy!" And he yawned broadly, setting his chums to doing likewise. "Well, dogs do dream sometimes," admitted the doctor's son. "But what made him bark so loudly and look so mad?" Nobody could answer that question, and nobody tried. They took another look around the tent, fixed the fire again, and at last one by one retired to rest once more, Wags at the foot of the tent pole as before. It was broad daylight when they awoke again, and for a while nobody felt like stirring. At length Snap looked at his watch. "Great mackerel!" he ejaculated. "Eight o'clock! Time we were getting breakfast and moving." "That's so," answered Shep. "Still, there is no great hurry. Our time is our own. That's the charm of such an outing as this." "I think we might stay here to-day," came from Giant. "It will give us a chance to rest up and to fish. Remember, we won't have much fishing after we get to the mountains." "We can get brook trout," answered Whopper. "But just the same I'm willing to stay here to-day and fish. Maybe we can get some big maskalonge, same as we did before." "And if we can't get those we can get some pickerel and bass and perch," added Giant. Snap had promised to get breakfast ready, and he set in with a will as soon as he was dressed. While he was working Giant and Whopper walked down to a cove, where the boat had been left, to look over their rods and lines. The doctor's son busied himself with a camera, determined to take a few pictures before leaving the lake shore. Suddenly there came from the cove a hurried shouting that instantly attracted the attention of Snap and Shep. "What are they saying?" demanded the doctor's son. "I don't know---something about the boat," answered Snap, and dropping the coffee-pot he held he ran toward the lake. Shep set the camera on a box and followed. When they arrived at the cove they found Giant and Whopper gazing up and down and across the water in perplexity. The rowboat, with the larger portion of their outfit, was nowhere to be seen. "Where's the boat?" demanded Snap. "That's what we want to know," answered Giant. "Didn't you leave it tied up?" "Certainly I did---to this elderberry bush." "Well, where is it now "Don't ask me." "Did Giant tie the boat?" asked the doctor's son. He had not seen the craft since the parting at the rapids. "Yes, I did---and I tied it good and fast, too," answered the small youth. "Snap saw me do it." "Yes, I saw him tie it up, but I thought maybe he shifted the boat afterward." "No, I left it just as it was tied up." The boy hunters looked blankly at one another. All gazed up and down the shore and across the lake. "Maybe Ham Spink-----" began Snap. "If he took our boat I'll---I'll kick him full of holes!" cried Giant. He had not forgotten how Spink and his cronies had annoyed them in the past. "I don't see any footprints around here," remarked the doctor's son, looking over the ground carefully. "Here's a tree branch broken," said Whopper. "They might have come in a boat and towed our craft away," suggested Snap. "Boys, I know why Wags barked during the night!" cried Giant. "He heard somebody at the boat." "Yes, and we didn't know enough to come down here," added Snap bitterly. "If we had come we could have caught the boat-stealers redhanded." A lively discussion followed, but it did nothing toward enlightening the boy hunters. The one fact remained that the boat and a large portion of the outfit were gone, and unless the craft could be recovered their outing would come to a premature finish. "All I can think of to do is to take our guns and walk up and down the lake front," said the doctor's son. "Two can go one way, and two the other. If you see anything, shout or fire a gun." "Shall we have breakfast first?" asked Snap, "It's started." "Might as well, since we don't know how long this search will last." Much disappointed, the chums walked back to the camp fire and there made a hasty meal of cold partridge, crackers, cheese and coffee. They left Wags tied to the tent pole. "Maybe he'll scare off intruders---if any come," said Shep. It was decided that Snap and Shep should go up the shore and Giant and Whopper down in the direction of the river leading to Lake Cameron. All started off briskly, anxious to catch sight of their craft as speedily as possible, or learn what had become of it. It was comparatively easy to walk along the shore of Firefly Lake, and Snap and the doctor's son made good progress. They passed the camp, receiving a joyous bark from Wags, and then skirted a small bay leading to a fine, sandy beach. "Fine spot for a swim," remarked Snap. "We ought to have one before we go to the mountains." "Yes; but let us find the boat first." "Of course." Half an hour's walking brought the two churns to another bay. They were walking behind a fringe of bushes, and now the doctor's son stepped forward, parted the branches and peered eagerly out on the bosom of the lake. "Hello!" he cried, with something of joy in his voice. "Is it the boat?" "Yes!" And now Snap came forward. "There it is, just rounding yonder bend of the shore. Hurry up! We'll catch the rascal who is running off with it!" They had seen the craft, piled high with their outfit. A single person was at the oars---a boy, by his size. He was pulling leisurely. "Maybe he won't come ashore; and we can't follow him out on the lake," said Snap. "We won't have to follow him." "But if he won't come in?" "We'll make him," and the doctor's son raised his shotgun significantly. "That's so; I forgot about our guns. Of course he'll come in if we threaten to shoot him." The boys quickened their footsteps and soon reached a point opposite to where the rowboat was moving along. "Hi, you, stop!" yelled Shep loudly. "Stop, I say!" At the command the boy in the boat ceased rowing and looked around curiously. "Who called?" he asked in a low but distinct voice. "I did," went on the doctor's son. "Turn in here with that boat and be quick about it. What do you mean by running off with our property?" "Why, I declare!" gasped Snap as he caught a good look at the face of the lad in the rowboat. "Shep, do you recognize him? He's the lad from the circus---the young acrobat who ran away!" CHAPTER XII THE CIRCUS BOY'S STORY Snap was right; it was indeed the youthful circus performer. He looked as thin as ever, but his face bore a far more healthy color than when the young hunters had seen him before. "I say, what do you mean by running off with our boat?" repeated the doctor's son wrathfully. "Is this your boat?" asked the circus boy calmly. "It is." "I didn't run off with it. I found it drifting along the shore, and I took off my shoes and socks and waded in after it." "You didn't run off with it?" asked Snap. "I give you my word of honor," replied the boy quickly. He ran the boat to shore and stepped out. "If it's your property, I'm glad to hand it over to you. I---Say, didn't I see you somewhere before?" he demanded excitedly. I rather guess you did---at the circus, replied Shep. "Oh! You were the fellows who---who talked to Jones, the ringmaster." "Exactly. And you're the chap who ran away." "That's true, I did run away. Can you blame me? They half starved me and beat me, and wanted me to go up on the trapeze after I had had a spell of sickness." "We saw you on a freight train leaving Rallings." "Oh, did you? Yes, I left town on a freight. It was the easiest way to go---and the cheapest." And the boy smiled quietly. "Now give us the truth about our boat," said Shep sternly. "You ran off with it last night, didn't you?" "No, sir!" And the boy looked the doctor's son squarely in the eyes. "I never took any property that didn't belong to me in my life." "And where did you find the boat?" "About half a mile from here, along the shore. I made up my mind it had broken loose somehow, and I thought if I found the owner he might---er---that is-----" "Give you a reward?" suggested Snap. Something about the lad's manner pleased him. "Well, he might give me something to eat." "Hungry?" The boy nodded. "Well, we'll give you something to eat---all you want---if you are quite sure you didn't take the boat," answered the doctor's son. "I told you the truth." "Then get into the boat again, and we'll row to our camp." The three got in, the strange boy sitting in the stern. Shep and Snap took up the oars and soon the craft was heading for the cove where it had been tied up the night before. A shot was fired to notify Giant and Whopper that the boat had been found. "What's your name?" asked Snap on the way. "Tommy Cabot; but up to the show they called me Buzz." "Are your folks with the circus?" "My folks are dead---that is, my father and mother are. I've got a sister somewhere, older than myself, but I don't know just where she is." "How did you happen to go with the circus?" asked Shep. "They picked me up at Centerport. They saw that I was limber and could do a turn or two, and they made me join. They promised me good wages and a fine time, but as soon as we got on the road they treated me worse than my dog." "Your dog?" "Yes. I had a dog, and I said I wouldn't join unless they took the dog, too. Jones wanted me to give him, the dog---he was a fine collie---but I wouldn't do it, and when I left I took my dog with me." "Where is he now?" "I don't know. He ran away several days ago, and I haven't seen him since." "And he was a collie?" asked Snap. "Yes." Tommy Cabot's eyes brightened expectantly. "You haven't seen him, have you? He must be somewhere around these lakes." "We found a dog---a collie. He's got a tag on his collar---number 444." "My dog!" cried the circus boy. "Oh, I'll be glad to see him! He's my best friend, even if he did run away. Anyway, I guess he went to get something to eat. I hadn't much for him." "What do you call your dog?" asked the doctor's son. "Wags---because he moves his tail so much." "Well, I never! That's what we dubbed him." "Tell me," broke in Snap. "Do you know what happened at the circus after you left?" "I heard that some of the animals got away. I didn't hear the particulars. I went down among the farms and laid low, waiting for the circus to go east." "A lion got away, and also Abe, the educated chimpanzee. The circus folks think those men who were discharged and you were responsible." "Me! I didn't do it, and I never had anything to do with those men who were discharged. They were a hard crowd." A little later the camp was gained. As soon as the dog saw Tommy Cabot he became frantic with joy and leaped up and licked the hand of his youthful master. Tommy fairly hugged Wags to his breast. Of course, Whopper and Giant were surprised to see the circus boy and glad to know the boat had been found. How the craft had gotten loose was a mystery nobody was able to solve. A substantial breakfast was prepared for the circus boy, and while he was eating he told his story in detail---how his parents had died years before, and how his sister Grace had been taken by some friends in the Middle West. "I sold papers and blacked boots for a living, and I learned to do handsprings and the like," said Tommy. "Then the circus came along and I went with it, taking Wags. Some of the circus men were kind to me, but most of them were rough, and Jones and Casso were cruel. When I ran away I made up my mind I'd never go back, but would try to get work in some city and also try to find my sister Grace. But I ran short of money and then I came out here, thinking I could get work on some farm, or go with some sportsmen to carry their traps for 'em. But I didn't find any farms out here, and the only sportsmen I met were some well-dressed young fellows who jeered me and called me a scarecrow---I suppose on account of my shabby clothes." The circus boy still wore the big suit of rags the young hunters had noticed before. "Must have been Ham Spink and his crowd," murmured Whopper. "It would be just like them to do that." In spite of the color in his cheeks the young hunters could see that the circus lad was far from strong. He was nervous, and evidently needed plenty of food and a rest. Having heard the runaway's tale, Snap and the others told something about themselves. Tommy listened with keen interest, and presently his eyes showed considerable enthusiasm. "I wish I was going with you," he said. "Such an outing would suit me down to the ground. I can cook some, and I could wash the dishes and cut wood and keep the camp in order, and all that. But I don't suppose you'd want me along in these old duds." And he looked sadly at his torn and faded suit, so much too big for him. "Oh, we might fit you out with a sweater and a cap," said Snap. The more he saw of the circus boy the better he liked the young fellow. "But I don't know," he added hastily, looking at his chums. "We didn't expect to take anybody," said the doctor's son slowly. "But you might stay with us for a day or two, anyway---and we can talk it over. We ought to be better acquainted before we make a bargain." "He could help us take our outfit to the mountains," said Giant. "We could pay him for the work." "I don't want any pay. Just give me my meals, and it will be all right." "We can settle the whole thing later," said Shep. "But you can stay for the present." "Wasn't it queer?" cried Whopper. "We found your dog and you found our boat!" "It was queer---but I'm glad of it, for it kind of squares up," answered the circus boy. "I don't know how much you think of your boat, but I think a whole lot of Wags." "If we hadn't got the boat back our outing would have been spoiled," said the doctor's son. "But come; if we are going fishing, let us start at once. We can do the rest of our talking after our lines are in." CHAPTER XIII SOME FINE FISHING The four boy hunters were soon down at the lake shore preparing their hooks and lines. Tommy Cabot went along, and while they fished he sat and watched them. "This beats being with a circus all hollow," said the young acrobat. "I always thought circus life was fine," declared Giant. "It is---on the outside. But on the inside! No more of it for me!" "Did they pay you much?" questioned Whopper. "I was supposed to get ten dollars a week, but I didn't. Every time payday came around they'd deduct something for extras I had had and things they said I had broken, or torn, or lost, so I usually got two or three dollars, and that I had to spend on clothing, shoes---and eating, for the meals weren't heavy at the show. Then, one night, some scamp stole my suit, and I had to buy these from one of the workmen. I got 'em cheap, but they aren't much good," and Tommy smiled grimly as he surveyed the dilapidated garments. At fishing the boys were highly successful. Snap caught the first fish---a good-sized perch---and the doctor's son followed with a fine pickerel. Then came Whopper with another pickerel. For a while Giant caught nothing. "What's the matter, Giant?" queried Snap. "You are usually our best angler." "Oh, wait; I haven't begun yet," returned the small youth. Scarcely had he spoken when he felt a tug and commenced to play a fish with vigor. That it was a large specimen of the finny tribe was evident by the way the rod bent and the line snapped and hummed. "Look out, or you'll lose him!" cried Whopper excitedly. "Let Giant alone---he knows how to play any fish," said Snap. "That's what!" added the doctor's son. The others forgot their lines in watching Giant. Up came the line for fifty feet, and then out it would rush. But at last he commenced to reel in steadily, and then, with a swing, he lifted his catch bodily and allowed it to drop on the grass, where it flounced and flopped vigorously for a moment. "A maskalonge!" cried the other boys simultaneously. "And a big one!" added Whopper. "Tell you what! It takes Giant to haul in the big fish!" was Snap's comment. "No little chaps for him!" The catching of the maskalonge enthused all, and they went to fishing with renewed vigor. By dinner-time they had eighteen fish to their credit, a few little ones and some weighing two and three pounds. "Say, you fellows will have plenty of fish to eat," remarked the boy from the circus. "Well, you shall have your share," added Snap quickly. "Which puts me in mind that it must be near feeding time." "Shall I get some wood and start up the fire?" asked Tommy. "If you will." At once the circus boy started off, and when the others got back to camp they found a fine blaze going with plenty of wood near by to keep it up. Tommy was washing the left-over dishes, and had set a kettle of water to boil. "He certainly isn't lazy," whispered Snap to Shep. "If we take him along he'll earn his food." "Yes, and if he does the camp work that will give us more time to rest and take pictures," returned the doctor's son. "Boys, I move we take a swim this afternoon," cried Giant, while they were sitting around waiting for some fish to cook. "It will be our last chance before going to the mountains, and the water is just right." "Second the motion!" returned Snap. "So say we all of us!" sang out Whopper. "I've been dying for a swim for the last ten years!" "Dying again! Poor boy!" sighed Shep. "Now, if you'll only live-----" He got no further, for, coming up behind him, Whopper pulled him over on the grass. As he went rolling he caught his tormentor by the ankles and down came Whopper. Then over and over rolled both lads, up against Giant, who joined in the tussle good-naturedly. "Look out for the fire!" yelled Snap, and as they rolled close to the flames he tried to force them back. Then down he went himself, and the mix-up became more strenuous than ever. It was good, healthy fun, and Tommy Cabot stood by with a broad grin on his face, enjoying it thoroughly. As they rolled toward the woods he picked up an armful of leaves and scattered it over the crowd. The tussle lasted for full five minutes, and then the various boys sat up almost exhausted. "Guess you've got an appetite for dinner now," observed the boy from the circus. "Appetite!" cried Whopper. "I could eat a house and lot!" "With the fence and barn thrown in," added Giant. They washed up a bit and soon had dinner, consisting of baked maskalonge, pancakes and chocolate. For dessert they had apples. "Now we'll rest for an hour and then go swimming," said Shep, and so it was decided. All took a nap, Tommy lying down on the grass with the faithful Wags beside him. While fishing the boys had selected a spot for swimming, where the bottom was sloping and sandy. They went in together, the circus boy with the others. "You can swim?" asked Snap. "Oh, yes. And if I couldn't Wags would take care of me," answered Tommy. "Just see him tow me!" And getting a stick he called the collie. Wags took hold of the end and commenced to swim along, dragging his young master after him. "Hurrah for Wags!" shouted Whopper. "When I get tired I'll have him haul me along for a while." Evidently the collie enjoyed the bath as much as did the boys. They remained in the water for the best part of an hour, racing, diving and doing various "stunts." When they came out Snap declared it was the best swim he had ever had. "It's a pity we won't be able to swim in the mountains," said Giant. "Well, we can't expect to have everything," returned the doctor's son. Having dried off and dressed, the boys returned to camp and spent the rest of the afternoon in getting ready to move early in the morning. It was decided to hide the boat in the bushes and leave a portion of their outfit in the craft, tied down under the tarpaulin. They would carry with them all the things needed for several days, so that a second trip would not be necessary until they felt like taking it. "I'll carry a share," said Tommy. "I'm feeling stronger than I was." "We'll give you a small load," answered the doctor's son. They retired early and were up at sunrise. Tommy renewed the camp fire, and they had a meal of fish and wheatcakes, with coffee. Then the tent was taken down and packed along with the other things. "Now put out the fire and we'll be off," said Shep, and he saw to it personally that every spark of the blaze was extinguished. As my old readers know, the boy hunters knew only too well what a forest fire meant, and they had no desire to start such a conflagration. Their route now lay over some hills that were more or less strange to them. But they had received many instructions from Jed Sanborn, and thought they would have little trouble in gaining a trail back of the hills that led into the Windy Mountains. "Are the mountains really windy?" asked Snap as they began the climb up the hills back of the lake, each with a good-sized load strapped to his back. "They are only windy at certain times of the year," answered the doctor's son. "But when it blows, why, it blows, so Jed Sanborn said." "Then we'll have to put our tent up good and strong," came from Whopper. "We don't want to wake up some night and find ourselves blown into the middle of next year!" "And dying to know how we are going to get back," added Giant dryly. "Giant, if you say dying again---" began Whopper. "Save your wind, boys!" interrupted Shep. "We've got a long and hard climb before us." What the doctor's son said about the climb was true---the way was a steady pull upward, and they had frequently to stop to get their breath. It was nearly eleven o'clock when they reached the top of the hill. They had been on the upgrade for three hours. "Let us rest until after dinner," said Snap. "No use killing ourselves." "We've still got some miles to go," answered Shep. "I know it---but it will be mostly down grade---at least, until we reach the foot of the mountains." It was decided to rest, and all of the young hunters willingly slipped their loads and sat down. Below them was Firefly Lake, with Lake Cameron in the distance on one side and Lake Narsac in the distance on the other. Back of them lay the Windy Mountains, with a hollow of trees and bushes between. The boys viewed the mountains with interest, thinking of the outing they hoped to have there. CHAPTER XIV AFTER DEER WITH GUN AND CAMERA "I hope we strike a good camping spot by night," said Snap, "for, unless I miss my guess, it will rain before morning." "Oh, don't say rain!" cried Giant. "We can do without rain." "It may not be a lasting storm, but some rain will come, mark my words." "I think I see the trail up the mountains," said Whopper, who was looking through a pair of fieldglasses. "Anyway, it's path of some kind." The others gave a look, and all decided that Whopper was right. Resuming their loads after the noonday repast, they started down the hill in the direction of Windy Mountains. They had some big bare rocks to cover, and slipped and slid over these as best they could, and then plunged straight into a thick woods. "Ought to be hunting here, if anywhere," observed Shep. "Looks as if it was new ground for sportsmen." "Beware of sink holes!" cried Whopper as he reached a rather soft spot. "We don't want to go down as we did the other time we were out." "Look!" exclaimed the doctor's son as they came to a small opening in the woods. "Deer, or I'll eat my cap!" He pointed to some bushes and tender saplings growing near. The bushes had been nibbled, and so had the bark on the saplings, showing that some animal had been there. "I believe you are right, and if so we may get a shot," answered Giant. "Yes, a shot---but not until after we have used our cameras," answered the doctor's son. "Don't forget the first object of this outing---to get some good pictures." "Right you are, Shep; I forgot. But we must shoot the deer---after we have our photos." "Better sight the game first," came from Snap. With the thoughts of bringing down one or more deer filling their minds, the boy hunters did not care so much about making a camp for the night. If necessary, they knew they could erect their tent anywhere, and take it down again in the morning. Even the prospect of rain did not daunt them. "Let us hurry," said Shep. "If we reach the deer we want to do it while it is light enough to take some pictures." With their cameras and guns ready for use, they went on, Tommy cautioning the dog to be silent. Wags seemed to understand and even acted as if he might lead them to the game. But he was not trained, so they took no chances on this. Deep in a hollow they came upon the unmistakable hoofmarks of three deer. They followed these through the woods and to a small clearing. At a clump of bushes the doctor's son called a halt. "I think they may be near," he whispered. "If so, we want to go slow or they'll get away from us." "Perhaps you'd better go ahead and take a look," said Snap, sure that that was what his chum desired. The loads were slipped to the ground, and they went on, Shep well in advance. Suddenly the doctor's son put up one hand. It was a signal that the game was in sight. Snap whispered to Tommy to stop and hold the collie. "There they are, by yonder rocks," said the doctor's son, pointing with his finger. "We can all get good pictures, I think. Let us spread out a little." They did as he advised. The three deer were close together, grazing. The boys came up almost breathlessly, and each snapped his camera for two films or plates. At the first clicking one of the deer, evidently the leader, raised his head. Scenting the air, he made a beautiful sight. For just an instant he stood still, then gave a snort and started to run. "Shoot 'em!" cried Shep, and swinging his camera out of the way he caught up his firearm. But Snap was ahead of him, and bang! went his piece. Bang! bang! bang! went the others in rapid succession. Then Wags began to bark furiously, and Tommy let him go. After the game he leaped at his topmost speed. The first volley from the shotguns laid one of the deer low, while a second was slightly wounded, and began to limp away. The other deer kept on running and soon disappeared into the dense forest. "Come on---let us get that wounded deer!" cried Whopper. "There goes Wags after him!" shouted Tommy. "That dog will get killed if he doesn't look out," answered Snap, who knew only too well how a cornered deer can fight. But Wags was too wise to get within reach of the deer's hoofs and head. He raced around and around the game, simply worrying it. Coming closer, the boy hunters watched their chances and Snap took another shot, followed by Giant. These were fatal, and limping a few feet farther, the deer staggered and fell, and soon breathed its last. "Call off the dog," ordered the doctor's son. But this was unnecessary, for after a single sniff Wags retired and did not attempt to molest the game. "Talk about luck!" cried Whopper, swinging his cap in the air. "I call this prime! Two deer, first crack out of the box!" "Yes; and see the fine pictures we got," added Snap. "That is, I trust they are all right," he added hastily. "Did you change your films and plates?" asked the doctor's son. All had, and they guarded jealously those containing the precious exposures. "Now we must take some more photos," said Shep. "We'll get Tommy to snap us holding up the deer on poles. We can label the two pictures 'Before Shooting' and 'After.' "That's the stuff!" cried Giant slangily. Two poles were soon cut and a deer slung on each, and while Shep and Snap raised up one, Whopper and Giant raised the other. Tommy had been instructed as to what to do, and he took a snapshot or a time picture with each camera, so that they would have plenty of films and plates, in case one or more proved failures. "It's a bit extravagant," said the doctor's son. "But we'll not have such game pictures every day. When we simply take scenery one plate or one film will do." "When we make camp we can hang the deer in front of the tent and get another view," said Snap. "Yes; and get a view of our big string of fish, before we eat 'em all up," added Giant. "Well, one thing is certain," said Whopper, after they had surveyed their prizes thoroughly; "we can't get to the Windy Mountains by to-night with such a load." "In that case we might as well make two bites of the trip and camp here for to-night," said Shep. "I reckon this spot is as good as any. There's a brook with good water, for the deer have been using it." "There's another reason for going into camp," came from Snap. "Just look at the sky over to the west." All gazed in the direction mentioned and saw heavy black clouds just showing over the treetops. The clouds advanced rapidly, soon covering the sun. Then came the rumble of distant thunder. "A thunderstorm!" exclaimed Tommy. "I don't like them at all. What shall we do?" "Put up the tent as quickly as we can," ordered the doctor's son. "That storm may last all night, and we want to keep dry if we can." In great haste they selected some saplings and cut them down for tent poles and pegs. Then they got out the canvas and put it up, driving in the pegs that held it as deeply as possible. The tent was erected on some sloping ground, and behind it they cut a V in the soil, so that the water might run off on either side instead of across the flooring of the shelter. Then they cut some brushwood for couches and hauled it inside. "Here comes the storm!" cried Snap presently, and scarcely had he spoken when there came a rush of wind, followed by some big drops of rain. Then came more wind, swaying the tent violently and causing the sides to bulge out like a balloon. A torrent of water followed, and all of the boys were glad enough to crawl under the tent and tie the opening in front tight shut behind them. CHAPTER XV IN THE MOUNTAINS AT LAST The boys and even the dog put in a thoroughly uncomfortable night. It thundered and lightened for two hours, and for the larger portion of the time the downpour was so heavy that it was impossible for the V-shaped trench behind the tent to carry it off. Consequently, some of the water rushed directly across the flooring of the shelter, wetting the brushwood cut for sleeping purposes. To keep their shoes and socks dry, the young hunters went barefooted. Once the wind cut loose a corner of the tent, and, despite the rain, Shep and Snap had to go out and cut longer pegs with which to fasten the ropes. They had on rubber coats, but still got a good deal of water in their faces and down their necks. It was impossible to light a camp fire, and so they had to eat a cold supper of such things as chanced to be handy. They could not lie down, and had to sit on little stacks of the damp brushwood, with their bare feet in the water and mud. "Say, this is dead loads of fun!" was Whopper's sarcastic comment. "Just as funny as doing an example in algebra or writing a composition on the decay of the Roman Empire!" "Are you dying to-----" began Giant, when a vigorous pinch on the arm from Whopper stopped him. "Wow! Let up!" "Then you let up." "I will." By midnight the worst of the storm was over, but it still rained steadily, and this kept up until almost daybreak. But then the wind shifted and the clouds scattered rapidly. Utterly worn out, the boys leaned against the tent poles and caught such "cat naps" as they could. When the young hunters finally emerged from the tent a surprise awaited them. Tommy was ahead of them, and the circus boy had cut such dry wood as he could find and started a big blaze. More than this, he had put on a kettle of water to boil. "Good for you, Tommy!" cried the doctor's son. "We'll soon have a hot cup of coffee to cheer us, and we can dry out the tent and our clothing while we get breakfast." "That's about the worst night I can remember," said Whopper. "My! how it did pour at first! I thought sure we'd be washed down into some hillside torrent and into the lake." They placed all the damp things close to the fire to dry, and put on their socks and shoes. Then Giant and Whopper, assisted by Tommy, prepared a rather elaborate breakfast of fish and venison steaks. "We deserve a square meal," said Giant. "It will put new vigor into us." And his words proved true. By the time they had finished the repast they were ready to joke over the discomforts through which they had passed. "But one storm is enough," said Snap. "I trust it stays clear after this." The woods were so wet it was decided not to travel through them until after dinner. The sun came out strongly, and in the clear sky thus presented the boys managed to get several pleasing photographs. One was of Tommy and his dog sitting on a rock, and this was so good that, when shown later, it was very much admired. They also took a photograph of Giant and Whopper with the strings of fish. Late that afternoon found them at the foot of the Windy Mountains. Here they discovered a well-defined trail and also a signboard, telling them the game preserve in which Dr. Reed was interested was just beyond." "Now we haven't much farther to go," said the doctor's son. "My father said we'd find a good camping spot less than a mile from here." "I'm glad of it," answered Giant. "This load on my back isn't as light as it might be." Pushing on, they soon came to where another signboard had been located; but the board had been knocked off with a stone or a hammer and was missing. "Some hunter's meanness," was Snap's comment. "A fellow who would destroy a signboard ought to be locked up," was Whopper's comment. "It's about on a par with starting a forest fire." They trudged on, and presently came to where somebody had had a camp fire. Here were some empty tins and some well-picked bones. Giant kicked over one of the empty tins. "Hello! I know who was here!" he cried. "Ham Spink and his crowd." "How do you know?" demanded the doctor's son. "Because I know they had some of this brand of canned goods with 'em---saw it among their supplies. It's different from the kind we have, or what you can get in the regular stores. The Spinks have their goods sent by freight from the city." "Giant must be right," said Snap. "And look here, will you?" As he spoke Snap pulled from the dead embers of the fire a half-burned bit of wood. It was part of a signboard. "Humph! the signboard that was missing below here," muttered Shep. "Ham and his crowd were too lazy to cut firewood, so they used the board. If that isn't the height of laziness and meanness!" "It's against the law to destroy signboards," said Whopper. "That crowd ought to be brought to book for this." "If you said anything they'd say we did it," responded Snap. "Ham would do anything to keep out of trouble and get us into a muss." "That camp fire was built after the storm," said the doctor's son. "That proves the Spink crowd can't be far from here." "If they are near us we want to be on our guard," observed Giant. "They'd like no better fun than to steal our things. They haven't forgotten what happened on the lakes this summer and last winter." The boy hunters were bound for a spot mentioned to them by Dr. Reed and Jed Sanborn. It was a small "dent" in the mountain side, where were located a fine spring of cool water with a rocky brook beyond. Some distance farther was a cut in the mountain with a tiny lake, surrounded by cedars and called Cedar Lake. It was nightfall when they reached the "dent" and the spring. All were thirsty, and the sparkling water was very refreshing. "Father says that some day he'll organize a company to bottle this water," said Shep. "He is sure it will command a large sale in the big cities---it is so clear and pure." "It couldn't be better," answered Snap. He looked around him. "And what an ideal spot for our camp!" It assuredly was ideal in every respect. They could see for miles to the east, south and west, over hill after hill, covered with green trees and brushwood, with ribbons of water between, and here and there a lake. Using the field-glasses they could make out the church steeple of Fairview and some other buildings. Between the hills they could see various farms, with the cattle grazing in the pastures, or standing in groups in the barnyards. All was as silent and as calm as one could wish. "What a place for a castle, like those of old!" murmured Snap as his eyes roamed over the scene. "Just think of this in the light of the full moon." "Snap is getting romantic," came from Whopper. "Come on down to the earth, sonny, and help pitch the tent, or you'll have to sleep out in that moonlight to-night and run the risk of getting moonstruck." And this remark brought forth a laugh, in which even Snap joined. As tired as they were, the five boys cut the necessary poles and hoisted the tent. As this was to be a permanent camp for some weeks they erected the shelter with care, and around it dug a deep trench, with another trench to carry rain down the mountain side, so that none might run over the flooring as it had during the thunderstorm. Then they spent considerable time in cutting down some heavy cedar boughs for bedding. Snap, Whopper and Tommy did this latter work, and while it was going on Shep and Giant got together some flat stones and built something of a fireplace and a stove, not far from the tent's entrance. Then they cut firewood and soon had a generous blaze started and put the kettle on to boil. "And are we going to stay here for a while, and just hunt and fish and---and rest?" asked the boy from the circus. "Yes," answered Shep. "Don't you like it?" "Like it! I think it's the---the best ever! Couldn't be better!" was the hearty reply. "I think it will make you fat and strong, Tommy, and that's what you need." "And another thing," answered the boy. "Those circus people can't find me out here." "It's not likely." Everybody was glad that a permanent camp had been reached at last, and that night all slept "like rocks," to use Giant's way of expressing it. They left Wags on guard, but this was unnecessary, for nothing came to disturb them. The next day was spent in perfecting the camp and in taking care of what remained of the fish and of the venison. The skins were nailed up in the sun to dry. The boys were sorry they could not keep all of the meat, but this was impossible, as they had no ice and no means of smoking or pickling it. "Here comes somebody!" cried Whopper, while they sat around waiting for supper, which Snap and Tommy were preparing. Two boys were approaching, and as they came closer the young hunters recognized Ham Spink and his close crony, Carl Dudder. CHAPTER XVI A VISIT FROM THE ENEMY "Wonder what they want?" whispered Shep as the newcomers drew closer. "Perhaps they have only come out of idle curiosity," returned Snap. "Well, in that case, they had better stay away," grumbled Giant. Ham Spink and Carl Dudder came up slowly. To tell the truth, they were a bit afraid, thinking the others might jump on them and begin a fight, because of what had happened at the Fairview dock. "Hello!" said Ham presently. He did not know how else to start a conversation. "Hello yourself!" responded the doctor's son shortly. "Going to camp out here, eh?" went on the dudish youth. "Oh, no; we've opened an oyster house," returned Whopper, who was bound to have his fun. "Humph! Frank Dawson, you needn't get funny!" "Was I funny? I didn't see you laugh." "You know what I mean." "Expect to do some big hunting, I suppose?" said Carl Dudder with a bit of a sneer in his tones. "We generally do pretty well when we are out," responded Snap. "Following us up, eh?" "Not at all." "Yes, you are. You knew we were coming here." "And you know who this tract of land belongs to, now?" said the doctor's son. "It isn't fenced in," answered Carl, and his face took on a leer. "Anybody can hunt here who wants to." "That is true---but it will be fenced in next season. And, by the way, what right had you to tear down one of the signboards and use it for firewood?" "Who said we did that?" demanded Ham. "We saw the half-burned board at your camp fire." "You can't blame that on us!" cried Carl. "We can, and do," responded Snap. "You ought to be locked up for it." "Oh, give us a rest!" growled Ham. "What brought you here?" demanded Snap sharply. "Oh, we knew we were being followed---saw you from a distance---and made up our mind to see who it was. I don't see why you can't leave us alone." "We are not following you," said Giant, "And if you'll leave us alone we'll not bother you." "But you have got to keep your distance," added Whopper. "No more underhanded work, like we had before. Understand?" Ham paid no attention to the last words. He and his crony were looking at Tommy. Now they whispered together. "Say, aren't you the kid that ran away from the circus?" demanded Ham, turning to the small youth. At the question Tommy looked surprised and then scared. "Wha---what do you know about me?" he stammered. "Answer me," ordered Ham. "You ran away from Casso's Railroad Shows, didn't you?" "Don't tell him a thing, Tommy!" cried Snap quickly. "It is none of his business." "Ha! I knew I was right!" cried Ham triumphantly. "You're the boy they called Buzz, the Human Fly. I saw you perform at Chester, and I heard later about your running away. And you helped to let a lion and a chimpanzee escape, too." "I did not!" cried Tommy. "The men who were discharged let those animals get away. I had nothing whatever to do with it." "Oh, yes, that's your story; but the circus people tell it differently," put in Carl Dudder. "I was talking to one of them only the other day. They'd give a good deal to catch you and those men." As he spoke he advanced toward Tommy as if to catch hold of the lad. The boy from the circus shrank back and looked very much alarmed. "Here, Carl Dudder, you leave that boy alone!" cried the doctor's son. "Don't you dare to touch him!" "I'll do as I please. The boy doesn't belong to you," blustered Carl. "I know that---but you are not going to lay the weight of your finger on him." "Don't do it," whispered Ham to his crony in alarm. "Remember, they are five to two." "I think there is a reward for this boy," answered Carl in an equally low tone of voice. "Well, if there is, keep mum and we may be able to get it." There was an awkward pause. Tommy looked appealingly at the doctor's son and his other friends. "Don't you worry; they shan't touch you," said Shep kindly. "They are big bullies, that's all. We know them thoroughly." "Are you going to stay here?" asked Ham. "That is our business," answered Snap. "Where have you located?" "That is our business." "So it is; but I want you to understand, once for all, Ham Spink, that this time you must keep your distance. If you try to molest us in any way you'll get the worst of it." "How long are you going to stay?" "That is our business, too." "Come on, Ham," said Carl in a low voice. "What is the use of talking to them at all? Let us get back to our own camp, and let them take care of themselves." "All right, if you say so," answered Ham Spink, and turning on his heel he walked back the way he had come, with his crony beside him. "Now, what brought those chaps here?" demanded Snap as soon as their enemies were out of hearing. "No good, I'll wager that." "Oh, I guess they just wanted to come and say something," said Giant. "Let us have supper. I'm too hungry to wait any longer." Supper was had, and the boy hunters and Tommy sat around the camp fire for two hours, discussing the situation and planning what they would do for the days to come. It was decided to pay a visit to the lake for the remainder of the supplies two days later---after they had hunted and taken pictures and rested up a little. The two days passed quickly. The boy hunters saw and heard nothing of the Spink crowd and almost forgot about them. They went out for game, and managed to bring down some rabbits, squirrels and some fine quail, and also a pinemarten. They took over a dozen pictures of the game and also of the scenery, and Shep managed to get a fine photograph of an old owl as he sat on a tree limb. The boys made no effort to shoot the owl, for he really seemed friendly and did not offer to fly away. It was decided that Tommy and Whopper should remain at the camp while the other three made the trip to Firefly Lake. "Take good care of things while we are gone," cautioned the doctor's son. "Don't let the Spink crowd get the best of you." "We'll watch out," answered Whopper. "If they try any funny business we'll shoot them into the middle of next year!" "Oh, don't shoot anybody!" cried Snap. "Well, you know what I mean," answered the youth who loved to exaggerate. Shep and the others had expected to start off directly after breakfast, but Snap had to fix one of his shoes, and this delayed them. But by ten o'clock they were on the way, the others waving them a fond farewell. "We'll look for you by to-morrow night," said Tommy. It was an easy matter to climb down the mountain side, but the walk up the hill that separated them from the lake was another story. Yet, as they had only their guns to carry, they made good progress, and by the middle of the afternoon they were in plain sight of the body of water where they had left the boat. "Somebody ahead of us!" cried Snap presently, and pointed out three persons walking toward the lake. "I wonder if they can be members of the Spink crowd?" was Shep's comment. "Let us get closer and see" CHAPTER XVII WHAT HAPPENED UNDER THE CLIFF It was presently made evident to our friends that the persons ahead were Ham Spink, Carl Dudder and a lad named Dick Bush, who had in former years been a close personal friend to Ham. "Wonder where they are going?" asked Snap. "Down to the lake," answered the doctor's son. "Most likely to where they left their boat." "Let us keep behind them and out of sight," suggested Giant. "If they see us they may follow us up and damage our boat after we are gone." So, although they kept the Spink crowd well in sight, they took good care not to show themselves. Reaching the lake shore, Ham Spink and his friends came to a halt behind a clump of willows overhanging the water. Close by the others saw a rowboat tied up. "That must be their boat," whispered Snap. "Most likely they came for the same purpose that we did---to get supplies." "Listen!" whispered the doctor's son. "I just heard somebody mention my name." "Their boat must be somewhere along here," they heard Ham Spink exclaim. "And if it is---We'll fix it, all right," finished Carl Dudder. "Well, that's all right," expostulated Dick Bush. "But we don't want to do anything unlawful. They might have us arrested." "They won't know who did it," answered Ham. "What do you think of doing if you locate their boat?" asked Dick. "We'll take out the supplies and hide 'em, and then fill the boat with rocks and sink her," answered Ham. "That will be doing 'em up brown!" chuckled Carl. "Well, I don't know about this," answered Dick Bush doubtfully. He was not quite so lawless in his ideas as were the others. "Oh, it will be all right; we won't hurt the boat any," answered Ham. "Come on; the quicker we locate the boat the better. As soon as we've fixed their boat we can come back here and get our things and hurry back to camp." And then the three boys moved along down the lake shore. "Well, wouldn't that jar you?" cried Snap, when the other crowd was gone. "Hide our supplies and sink our boat! Well, I guess not!" "They haven't turned in the right direction to find our boat," returned the doctor's son. "We can get it out of the way before they come back." "We ought to pay them for this," murmured Giant. "Let us take their boat and row it up the lake. It will give 'em something to do to find it." "That's the talk!" cried Snap. "As the old saying goes, 'what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.' Jump in and we'll take the boat to where we left our own." They soon had the Spink rowboat untied, and leaping aboard they shoved the craft out into the lake. Then Snap and Shep took the oars, and they were soon moving up Firefly Lake. They kept close to the overhanging trees and bushes, so that the other crowd might not discover what was taking place. The distance to where they had left their own craft was not quite half a mile, and they reached the spot in less than a quarter of an hour. They pulled inshore, to find their boat just as it had been left. "Now, the quicker we work the better," said the doctor's son. "I've got an idea," he went on, as he caught sight of a tiny island about a hundred feet from shore. "Why not tie their boat fast over there? Then if they want it they can swim for it." "Good!" cried Snap, and grinned. Taking their own boat along, they rowed to the island, and there the Spink craft was made fast on the side next to the main shore and in plain view of anybody who might be passing. On the shore of the island Snap stuck up one of the oars and on the top placed a rubber boot he found in the rowboat---one of a pair Ham had brought along in case of prolonged wet weather. "Ham will recognize that rubber boot," said Snap. "And then he'll know the boat is his." The sight of the rubber boot on the top of the oar was a comical one and the boys had to laugh as they looked at it. Having fastened the boat so that it could not possibly drift away, the boys boarded their own craft and rowed still farther up Firefly Lake, until they came to a cove and a creek, the latter thickly overhung with bushes. They pulled the craft out of sight, so that to find it without knowing where it was located would be practically impossible. "Now, then, to take our things and go into camp for the night," said the doctor's son. "We'll have to find some shelter under the rocks, not having a tent." The boys knew the locality fairly well, from their previous visits, and walked to where there was a split in the hills. Here was located a rocky cliff, hollowed out somewhat at the bottom. "We can camp here," said Shep. "With a camp fire in front the hollow will be quite comfortable." While in the cove they had managed to catch a few perch and a pickerel, and starting a blaze, they cooked these. They had some crackers and cheese along, so made a comfortable if not an elaborate meal, washing it down with a drink from a spring. "We ought to get to bed early," said Snap. "Then we can start back for camp at sunrise, and so get ahead of the Spink crowd." "Oh, they won't go back until they find their boat," said Giant. "I don't know about that," said the doctor's son. "They may get mad and lay it to us and start back to-night. You can never tell what Ham Spink and Carl Dudder will do. Dick Bush isn't quite so bad." As it was warm, they allowed the fire to die down, and by nine o'clock all were sleeping soundly. They did not think it necessary to stand guard, for the hollow was well screened from outside observation, and they had all their traps behind them, next to the cliff. How long he had been asleep the doctor's son did not know, but he awoke with a start, feeling something pressing on his breast. He gave a yell of fright and alarm and added another yell as he felt his leg pulled. Then a dark body fled from the hollow and went crashing through the bushes beyond. "Wha---what's the matter?" came in a stammering voice from Giant. "Who was that?" demanded Snap as, in the darkness, he felt for his gun. The fire was practically out, and the hollow was intensely gloomy. "I don't know; Ham Spink, maybe," answered the doctor's son, much bewildered. "He stood on me and pulled my foot," he added. The boy hunters leaped up, and after some trouble armed themselves. It was dark around the cliff, so they could see nothing. They listened intently and at a distance heard a peculiar noise and the rustling of some brushwood. "Shall I give 'em a shot?" suggested Snap. "No; you might kill somebody," answered Shep. He raised his voice: "Hi, Ham Spink! Come back here! We know you!" To this call no answer was vouchsafed. Again the boys listened, but now the only sound that broke the stillness was the low wind in the tree branches overhead. "He has gone, whoever he was," said Snap. "Shep, are you sure it was Ham?" "Not at all. I only thought it might be. For all I know it might have been a wild animal." "What! to pull your leg?" queried Giant. "Well, maybe he didn't really pull the leg. You see, I was pretty sound asleep. But he, or it, jumped over me and back again." "Let's make a light and see if the outfit is O.K.," suggested Snap. They had a small pocket lantern along, and this was lit and an examination was made. "See, the sugar bag is bursted open!" cried the doctor's son. "The beans are scattered everywhere!" came from Giant. "And the cracker box is open and some of the crackers are missing," added Snap. "That must have been the work of some enemy. He wanted to destroy our stores." "But I---I really don't think it was Ham," said Shep slowly. "It was---well, it didn't seem like anybody of that crowd. I didn't get much of a look, but it wasn't like Ham, or Carl, or Dick." "A wild animal might do this, rooting around," said Snap. "Could it have been a bear?" "A bear!" ejaculated Giant. "Don't say a bear rooted around here while we were asleep! Why, it's enough to give a fellow heart failure thinking about it!" "Wonder what time it is?" said the doctor's son, and felt for his watch. "Why, I declare, my watch is gone!" he exclaimed in consternation. Just then Snap saw something on the ground and picked it up. It was a shred of a red bandanna handkerchief. "Boys, do you know what I think?" he said excitedly. "I think our visitor was that wild hermit who lived in the lonely cabin in the woods!" "You mean the one Whopper and I met?" asked Shep. "Yes." CHAPTER XVIII A FIGHT WITH TWO WILDCATS The doctor's son and Giant listened with interest to what their chum had to say. "What makes you think it was the hermit?" asked Shep. "Because of this bit of red handkerchief. Whopper said he saw such a bandanna around the wild man's neck or head." "Gracious! so we did!" cried the doctor's son. "I had forgotten about it. But do you think that wild creature took my watch?" he added anxiously. "Yes, unless you lost it on the way here." "I didn't lose it before I went to sleep, for I wound it up, same as I do every night before retiring." "Let us take a look around for it," suggested Giant. A keen search was made, but nothing that looked like a watch could be located anywhere. Then, as they were a bit cold, the boys renewed the fire, thus adding to the light. "If that wild man, or whatever he is, took my watch I want it back," declared the doctor's son. "Do you think he'd take it to that cabin in the woods with him?" questioned Giant. "More than likely." "That must be a good way from here." "It is. But you would want the watch if it was yours." "Of course." The boys talked the matter over for a quarter of an hour and then laid down to sleep once more, leaving the camp fire burning brightly. But the doctor's son could not slumber soundly, for his thoughts were on his missing timepiece, which had been a present and a valuable one. They were up at sunrise, and then another consultation was had. "I'd like to look for the watch," said Snap. "But if we don't get back to camp Whopper and Tommy will worry about us---and there is no telling what the Spink crowd will do in our absence." "I suppose if that hermit has it the watch will be safe for a day or two," answered the doctor's son thoughtfully. "We might go back to the camp first and then make a trip to the cabin in the woods." So it was decided, and after a hasty breakfast they set off in the direction of the Windy Mountains. They took the same trail as before, and on the walk kept their eyes open for game. They managed to bring down two grouse and a squirrel, but that was all. They reached camp an hour after sundown, much to the satisfaction of Whopper and Tommy, who came to meet them. "Gosh! but I am tired!" said Snap as he threw his burden on the ground. "I feel as if I wanted to rest for a week!" "A good night's sleep will make you change your mind," answered the doctor's son. Supper was ready for them, and they sat down gladly and partook of the things provided. During the day, to pass the time, Whopper and Tommy had baked a big pan of beans and another of biscuits, and both were good. They had also tried their hand at baking some cake, but this was a little burned. Yet the boys ate it and declared it was all right. At home it might have been different, but when one is out in the woods, and doing one's own cooking---well, there is no use in finding fault, that's all. Whopper and Tommy listened with interest to what the others had to tell about the Spink crowd and about the midnight visitor. They laughed heartily over what had been done to the rowboat, and were serious over the loss of Shep's watch. "I'd be afraid to meet that wild man," said Tommy. "Why, there is no telling what he would do if he was cornered." "That is true," answered Shep. "Of course we can take our guns, but I'd hate to shoot anybody, even if it seemed necessary." "Maybe he'll give in if we point our guns at him," suggested Whopper. "But I hardly think so. He may be as crazy as they make 'em and afraid of nothing." "Well, I'll think it over," answered the doctor's son thoughtfully. He did not wish to expose his chums to danger, nor did he wish to get into trouble himself. Yet he felt the loss of the timepiece keenly. The young hunters looked for a visit from the Spink crowd the next day, but it did not come. Instead, it rained, and they had to keep in the tent most of the time. But it cleared during the night, and the days to follow were ideal. Sunday passed, and on Monday Shep, Snap and Whopper went out on a hunt, leaving Giant and Tommy in charge of the camp. Giant declared he was going to take and develop some photographs, using a daylight tank instead of a dark room for the latter process. It had been decided that some of the party should visit the lonely cabin in the woods later in the week. The boys had seen some traces of wild beasts up the mountain side, and thither they directed their steps, keeping their eyes and ears on the alert as they proceeded. They had scarcely covered a quarter of a mile when they came upon the mutilated remains of a mink. "Hello! what do you make of this?" cried Snap as he pointed it out. "A mink, and some other wild beast killed it," said Whopper. "Do you suppose it was a bear?" asked Snap. "No; most likely a wildcat, or a big fox or wolf." "Let's go after 'em!" "They are no good for game---and that is what we are after." "We might get some good photographs." "That's so---I never thought of that!" Filled with the idea of taking some pictures that might prove of value, the boys hurried on through the woods and up the side of the mountain. Shep cautioned the others to move as silently as possible, so hardly a word was said. It was almost noon when they came to a flat spot, where there was something of a clearing. Here there was a spring and a pool, and a fallen tree lay across both. "Wait!" whispered the doctor's son. "I think I see something!" The others halted, and Shep advanced with increased caution, bringing his camera to the front as he did so. The next instant he saw a sight that filled him with interest and pleasure. On the fallen tree spanning the pool rested two wildcats, mates, facing each other. Both had their eyes closed and were evidently asleep. He motioned for the others to come up, and in a few seconds all were ready to take pictures. The background was perfect, and they felt this would be one of the finest subjects yet obtained. Hardly daring to breathe, one after another of the boys clicked the shutter of his camera and the negatives were taken. Then they swung their cameras back and brought forward their shotguns. As they did this one of the wildcats suddenly opened its eyes and looked around. On the instant it let out a cry of rage and its back commenced to bristle. Then the other wildcat leaped from the tree to the ground and crouched as if for a spring. "Fire!" came the command from the doctor's son, but this was not necessary, for both Snap and Whopper blazed away as quickly as they could. The wildcat on the tree was hit and fell over into the pool with a loud splash. The other wildcat made a leap for Snap and hit him in the shoulder. "Shoot him! shoot him!" yelled Snap in terror, and did what he could to keep the beast from reaching his breast and throat. "Can't shoot---might hit you!" answered the doctor's son, but then he came up on the side and blazed away at close quarters, hitting the wildcat in the left hind leg. This caused the animal to drop to the ground, where it twisted and turned so quickly that the eyes of the young hunters could scarcely follow it. The other wildcat had by this time climbed out of the pool. It gave itself a vigorous shake and turned as if to limp away. But then it espied its mate and stopped, as if calculating on what to do next. "Shoot 'em!" sang out Whopper, and discharged his gun a second time. He hit the second wildcat in the back, but the wounds were not serious and the beast still thrashed around, snapping and snarling in a fashion that would have frightened any hunter. The shot from the gun awakened the fury of the first wildcat, and crouching low it came toward Whopper step by step, its two eyes glowing like tiny electric lights. Whopper tried to run, but he was fascinated by the sight and too much overcome to move a step. "Look out, Whopper!" screamed Snap, and then he raised his own gun to take another shot. But the hammer merely clicked. He tried it again, in increased haste, and as a consequence shot wild, the charge going over the wildcat's head. Then the wildcat made a leap, striking Whopper and hurling him over backward. As he went down the second wildcat lurched itself forward, and in a twinkling both were on the young hunter, snapping and snarling as though about to eat him up! CHAPTER XIX SOME UNLOOKED-FOR GAME It was a moment of dire peril and no one realized it more than did the young hunter who had been attacked by the two wild beasts of the forest. Like a flash he rolled over and doubled up to prevent the wildcats from reaching his head and neck. This quick movement sent the animals to the ground, and as they landed Snap jumped forward and struck one of the wildcats with the stock of his gun. It was a telling blow, for by luck more than judgment it crushed the beast's skull. The attack on its mate caused the other wildcat to pause. Then, filled with a sudden fear, and failing to get at Whopper's throat, it commenced to retreat. "It's running away!" shouted Snap. "Kill it, Shep!" The doctor's son had been dancing around, trying to get in a shot without injuring Whopper. Now he leveled his shotgun and banged away. It was a close-range hit, and the head of the wildcat was almost blown from the body. It was several seconds before the three boy hunters realized that the battle was at an end. Slowly Whopper turned over and looked at the two dead animals. He rose to his feet, panting heavily. "Are they bo---both dead?" he asked. "As dead as nails," answered Snap. "I thought I was---was going to be---be chewed up!" "It was a narrow escape." "Say, after this, do you know what I think? I think we had better kill the beasts first and take the pictures afterward!" "Then we'll not have such good photos," returned the doctor's son. "Yes; but what good are photos to a fellow if he gets killed?" questioned Whopper ruefully. "We'll have to be more careful, that's all," said Snap. "What shall we do with the wildcats?" "Leave them here, for all I care," answered the doctor's son. "The skins are not much good at this time of year and after such handling." The three boys rested for a while, and then took a picture of the dead wildcats with themselves in the background. So that all might get in the pictures they set their cameras on rocks and worked them by means of threads of black linen. "I am afraid our shots have scared away all the game in this vicinity," remarked the doctor's son as they, trudged forward once more. And so it seemed, for nothing came into view for the next hour. Then Snap sighted some rabbits, but before he could get a shot the game was out of sight. At noon they rested in a glade that commanded a fine view of the surrounding country and each of the boys took several time pictures with small lens openings, so as to get sharp outlines. It was well on toward the middle of the afternoon when they came upon the trail of a deer. It looked to be quite fresh, and this filled them with the hope of catching up to the game. "We want to be mighty quiet," cautioned Snap, who was in the lead. "The wind is uncertain and may carry the slightest sound to the deer." "It will carry our scent, too," answered Whopper. "That we can't help and will have to chance." They followed the trail for fully half a mile, through something of a hollow between the mountains. Here they came on quite a pond, much to their surprise. The pond was filled with lilies and other flowers, and on one side was a series of rocks leading to quite a cliff. "What a beautiful spot for a cabin!" cried Shep, forgetting all about the deer, for a moment. "Why not take some pictures?" suggested Snap. "We may not come this way again." The doctor's son was willing, and they took several views, one of Whopper with his hand full of water lilies. The trail of the deer led around the rocky elevation, and the three young hunters were moving through some low brushwood when of a sudden they heard a noise ahead of them. "What's that?" asked Whopper. "Bless me if I know," whispered the doctor's son. "Get your guns ready." "Here comes a deer!" shouted Snap, and an instant later a magnificent buck burst into view, rushing around the other end of the cliff. It appeared and disappeared so quickly that to get a shot was all but impossible. "Well, of all the chumps!" cried Snap in disgust. "Why didn't somebody let drive?" "Why didn't you?" asked Shep. "I couldn't---the rocks were in the way." "Well, the rocks were in my way, too." "How can a fellow shoot at a streak of greased lightning?" asked Whopper. "That buck was making a hundred miles a minute!" "Well, that's the end of that game," muttered Snap, much crestfallen. "Boys, it looks as if we were going to be skunked to-day." "Oh, we've got a couple of hours yet," said the doctor's son. "But I guess we had better turn back toward camp. We don't want to miss our way in the dark." "Let us go on a little," said Whopper. "I imagine that buck got scared at something, and I'd like to know what it was." "Maybe a bear," said Snap. "And if it is, you can be sure Mr. Bruin will walk right away from us while we are thinking about a shot," he added bitterly. He was disgusted to think they had allowed both the rabbits and the deer to get away from them. All of the boys were curious to know if anything had really frightened the buck, and they went forward, but this time more cautiously than ever. Passing the cliff, they came to a hillside, overgrown with cedars and brushwood, with many loose stones between. Here they had to progress even more slowly, for walking was treacherous and none of them had a desire to twist an ankle or break a leg. "I don't see a thing," said the doctor's son presently. "It's a mighty lonely place, isn't it?" "I fancied I saw something move, just beyond yonder clump of cedars," said Whopper, pointing with his hand. "Whopper is seeing things," said Snap, laughing. "I guess the wildcats and the deer got on his nerves." "Well, don't believe me if you don't want to," answered Whopper rather testily. "We'll see if there is anything in it, anyway," answered the doctor's son. "But I am not going any farther than those cedars. I am getting tired---and it is high time we turned back, unless we want to remain away from camp all night." "No, I want to get back, too," answered Snap. "Sleeping out of doors is all well enough once in a while, but I prefer to be under some kind of a roof, even if it's only canvas." The three boys moved forward once again, each with his gun ready for use, should anything worth shooting appear. They came up to the cedars and were then able to look beyond, where the mountain side was full of rocks, with numerous holes between. "Oh!" yelled Snap at the top of his lungs. "Look!" All gazed in the direction indicated, and for once they were fairly rooted to the spot. Before them, on a flat rock, stood a large and magnificent lion, gazing boldly at them. CHAPTER XX ON THE MOUNTAIN SIDE For fully ten seconds the lion did not move, and during that time the young hunters stood spellbound. Then the foreign monarch of the forest turned and like a flash disappeared into a hole on the mountain side. "Did---did---was it really a lion?" gasped Whopper when he could speak. "It certainly was---and a big one, too," answered the doctor's son. "But here?" began Snap. "We don't have lions in America." "It must be the one that got away from the circus!" cried Shep. "To be sure! Why didn't I think of that?" came from Whopper. "Sure as you're a foot high that is the circus lion. But how did he get away out here?" "That's easy to explain," answered the doctor's son. "He left town and took to the woods, and his quest for food brought him here." "And it was the lion that scared the buck," said Snap. "More than likely. And he scared us, too. Why didn't you shoot at him?" "Why didn't you?" "I guess we were all about paralyzed; I know I was," declared Whopper. "I didn't come out to hunt lions! Ugh! Maybe we had better get away from here. You can't kill a lion with a shotgun---you need a rifle, and a heavy one at that." "Three heavy charges of buckshot would discourage any lion, I think," answered Shep. "At the same time, we don't want to run the risk of being torn to pieces by such a beast." "Boys, I've got an idea!" cried Snap suddenly. "Maybe it won't work out, but we might try it." "To kill the lion?" "No, to capture him alive, and turn him over to the circus folks for that reward." "What is the idea?" "Let us dig a big pit here among the rocks and bait it with the two dead wildcats. We can drag the wildcats on the ground around here and to the pit, and maybe the lion will follow the trail up and fall into the pit." "He'll be very obliging if he does that," said Whopper with a laugh. "I guess lions are as cautious as any wild beasts." "He'll follow the trail if he gets hungry enough," said the doctor's son. "I think the idea is a good one, and I vote we follow it out at once. "But to dig a pit will be lots of work," said Whopper. "Can't we find some ready-made hole that will do?" Retreating still farther, and keeping their eyes and ears wide open for the possible reappearance of the monarch of the forest, the three young hunters at length found a hole that suited them. The bottom was filled with loose stones and decayed leaves, but these they soon cleaned out. Then, while Whopper went off for the dead wildcats, Snap and Shep made the hole still deeper. They removed the stones until they came to something of a small cave, and had to take care, for fear of tumbling in. "I think that will hold the lion, if he deigns to come this way," said the doctor's son. Over the top of the opening they placed some light brushwood, that would easily sink with the weight of any big beast, and in the center placed one of the dead wildcats. The other they dragged in a circle around the hole, and then let it fall to the bottom. "That will give the beast something to eat, in case he is captured," said the doctor's son. "We don't want him to starve on our hands." "I've got another idea," said Snap. "Why not fix one of the cameras so it will go off and take a picture, in case the lion touches a certain string? Mr. Jally told me how it could be done." "A good idea!" cried Shep. "We'll do it right away. Only we don't want any flashlight, for that would scare the lion away." "No; we'll have to run the risk of having the camera worked in the daylight." It was dark by the time their task was accomplished. They knew that they could not get back to camp, yet none of them had any desire to remain in the vicinity of the lion. "He might take it into his head to eat us up instead of the wildcats," said Whopper earnestly. "Right you are," responded Shep. "We'll get as far away as we can." They tramped for at least two miles, and during that time passed a mountain brook that was strange to them. They tried to get some fish, but were unsuccessful. "We are skunked, and no mistake," said Snap dolefully. "Not even one fish or a rabbit for supper!" "I am going to beat around the trees for something," said the doctor's son. "Shoot at anything that flies." He walked ahead, and the others kept their guns in readiness. But all he stirred up were a few small birds not worth laying low. "Lucky we saved a little of the grub," said Whopper. "If we hadn't we'd go to bed supperless." "I am going to roost in a tree to-night, to keep out of the reach of that lion," said Snap. All agreed that this would be a good thing to do, and after dividing what remained of the food brought along, and getting a drink at a spring, they selected a tree that suited their purpose and mounted to the thickest of the limbs. "Not a very comfortable bed," was Shep's comment. "But better than falling into that lion's clutches." "Shall we go back to the pit in the morning?" asked Whopper. "No; let us go to camp first, and see how Giant and Tommy are making out," said the doctor's son. "Most likely they'll be worrying about us." To keep from falling, the three young hunters tied themselves fast in the tree. They tried to sleep, but this was almost impossible, and the most each got were fitful naps, with many dreams of the lion. All thoughts of other game were, for the time being, banished from their minds. At daybreak they descended to the ground and started for camp without waiting to shoot something for breakfast. They calculated they could get back before noon, and then they would eat a big dinner at their leisure. All thought they had the "lay of the land" well fixed in their minds, and so they did not advance with the caution they might otherwise have taken. As a consequence, they presently made a false turn, and this brought them to a part of the mountains that was exceedingly rocky and rough. "Say, we can't get through here," declared Whopper at last. "Why, it's worse than the Rocky Road to Dublin!" "I believe we are off the right trail," returned Snap. "It seems to me our camp must be in that direction," and he pointed to their left. "Perhaps you are right," said the doctor's son. "Anyway, we can't get through here. We'll ruin our shoes and run the risk of breaking our necks." "Let us walk to the left," said Snap, and they turned back a short distance. As they did this, they started up a number of rabbits and, eager for some game, each blazed away, and as a consequence two of the creatures were brought low. "Not much, but something," said the doctor's son. They pressed on, soon coming to some rocks that were quite smooth. "Be careful here," cautioned Snap. "A tumble would be a nasty thing. There is a cliff just below us." He and the doctor's son went ahead and Whopper followed. The rocks were even more slippery than they had anticipated. The doctor's son was about to advise going back and walking around the cliff, when Whopper called out: "A deer! I see a deer!" "Where?" asked the others in a breath. "Over yonder! I am going to give him a shot!" In great excitement Whopper stood upright on the smooth rocks, raised his shotgun and pulled the trigger. But the deer was not hit, and a moment later disappeared from view. The report of the shotgun was followed by a yell from Whopper. The weapon, had kicked back and sent him sprawling. Now he was rolling over and over on the smooth rocks, directly toward the dangerous cliff below him. CHAPTER XXI ADRIFT IN THE WOODS "Stop Whopper, or he'll go over the cliff!" It was the doctor's son who uttered the words. He was high up on the rocks and could do nothing to save his chum. Snap heard and understood, for he saw Whopper rolling rapidly toward the cliff. If the youth went over, a sheer drop of twenty or thirty feet awaited him---with more rocks below. In this moment of peril, for Snap to think was to Whopper was very dear to him, and he resolved to do all he could to save his chum, even at the risk of his own life. He let his gun drop and ran over the rocks to where Whopper was rolling over and over. Then he caught him by the foot and threw himself flat, clutching tenaciously at a single stone that arose sharply above those around it. Snap's grip was good, and for the moment Whopper's progress was stayed. "Don't move!" called out Snap as soon as he could catch his breath. "Press down on the rocks for all you are worth!" Whopper understood and pressed down, and thus both boys lay quiet for several seconds. Whopper was but three feet from the edge of the cliff and Snap was just above him. The doctor's son was to the right, in a spot that was a comparatively safe one. "The---the gun kicked!" gasped Whopper when he could speak. "Yes, I know," answered Snap. "But be careful, or you'll go over the cliff yet!" Whopper screwed his head around and gazed in the direction of the yawning gulf below him, and his face changed color. "Gosh! We'll have to get out of this," he murmured. "Crawl toward Shep; but take it slowly and be careful," directed Snap. "Shall I help you?" "No, I can do it alone," was the answer. Both boys crawled like snails over the smooth rocks until they gained the spot where the doctor's son rested. Whopper drew a long breath of relief. "I'm glad I didn't take that tumble," he whispered hoarsely. He could hardly speak, and his limbs trembled slightly. "It was a good thing Snap stopped you," said Shep. "That's what---and I am mighty thankful, Snap," replied Whopper gratefully. "Well, we'll have to go back, that is all there is to it," remarked the doctor's son after a pause, during which they looked across the rocks in perplexity. "I thought sure we could go this way, but it seems as if we can't." To climb down the rocks was as great a task as it had been to climb up, and by the time they reached the bottom all were thoroughly hungry. It now lacked but an hour and a half of noon. "We'll never get to camp by dinner-time," declared Snap. "And I'm not going to do without breakfast and dinner, too. I move we light a fire and cook those rabbits. I've got a little coffee left, enough for three weak cups, I guess." The others agreed, and reaching a comfortable spot, they cut a little wood and made a fire. Then they sat down to rest while the skinned and cleaned rabbits were broiling. Snap made the coffee and, though rather weak and without milk and sugar, they drank it eagerly. They had a little salt for the rabbits, but that was all. But hunger and fresh air are great appetizers. The scant meal at an end, they resumed their journey, the doctor's son taking the lead. They moved in a semicircle around the base of one small mountain and then reached a rather broad mountain torrent. "Hello, here's a surprise!" cried Snap. "I had no idea such a big brook flowed through these parts." "Nor I," added Shep. "Looks as if there might be good fishing here." The boys noted the location of the brook, so that they might visit it another day, and then pushed on as before. They reached a slight rise and all concluded that their camp was directly to the west. "In that case all we'll have to do is to follow the sun," declared Whopper. "Right you are," responded the doctor's son. "How far do you calculate it is?" "Not more than two miles." "It may be a little more," said Snap. "But not much." They plunged into the woods once more, and had hardly proceeded a hundred yards when they heard some partridges drumming. It was a chance for another shot, and they hurried forward with guns ready for use. "I see them!" cried Snap, and blazed away, and the others followed suit. They were unusually lucky, for five of the birds fell, either dead or fatally wounded. Soon they had the game in their bags. "There! that is something like!" cried Snap. "They'll make fine eating." And he smacked his lips. He loved partridge meat very much. They seemed to be getting deeper and deeper into the woods. The trees around them were so dense that it was almost impossible to see the direction of the sun. Several times they came to a halt to look around. "What do you make of it?" asked Snap. "I don't like it," answered the doctor's son emphatically. "First thing we know we'll be lost." "Just what I was thinking." "We were to follow the sun," came from Whopper. "Can you see it?" "Once in a while, and not very clearly at that." "Tell you what we might do," suggested Shep. "Climb a big tree and take a look around." This was considered a wise suggestion, and they started to carry it out. A tree was selected, and the others gave Snap a boost to the lower branches. Then up went the youth to the top, slowly but surely. "Well, what do you see?" demanded the doctor's son, after having given his chum a chance to look around. "Nothing." "Nothing?" echoed Whopper blankly. "Nothing but woods and mountains, and a brook or two. I don't see a thing that looks like a camp anywhere." "Oh, it must be ahead of us," insisted the doctor's son. "All right---you come up and locate it," grumbled Snap. Shep came up and so did Whopper, and all three of the lads gazed longingly, first in one direction and then in another. Nothing but what Snap had mentioned greeted their eyes. "Boys, we are lost!" cried Whopper. "Oh, no, we're not lost---we are here," answered Snap. "The camp is lost." "It's the same thing---so far as we are concerned." "I think that is Firefly Lake," said Shep, pointing to a hazy spot in the distance. "And if it is, then our camp may lay around on the upper side of this mountain." "That may be true." "Shall we try to walk it?" "Might as well, Shep. We don't want to stay here all night." "And we don't want to walk two or three miles out of our way," put in Whopper. "I'm getting mighty tired---not having had a good rest last night." "We are having one adventure on top of the other," said the doctor's son with a grim smile. "Well, is it go forward or stay here?" Nobody wanted to stand still, and so they descended to the ground and moved off in the new direction settled upon. All were fagged out, so progress was slow. They encountered some squirrels and Snap brought down two and stowed them away with his partridge. "There's a cat!" cried Shep suddenly, and ran forward. Then of a sudden he stopped and smiled, while Whopper and Snap roared. "Better give that cat a wide berth," suggested Snap, "unless you want to put a whole perfumery shop to shame." And they did give the animal a wide berth, for it was a skunk, and one "ready for business," as Snap afterward expressed it. By nightfall they were still deep in the woods. All were now exhausted, and coming to a fallen tree Snap dropped to rest and so did his chums. "Boys, we have missed it," said the doctor's son seriously. "I must confess I haven't the least idea where our camp is!" "And that means we'll have to stay out in these woods all night," returned Whopper. "More than likely." CHAPTER XXII THE SPINK CROWD AGAIN The prospect was not a pleasant one for the three boy hunters. It was not that they were afraid over the fact that they were lost in the woods on the mountain side. But they knew that Giant and Tommy would be greatly worried over their absence, and it was possible, yes, probable, that the two lads might have trouble with Ham Spink and his cronies. "Ham will be as mad as a hornet if he had much trouble finding his boat," said Snap, in talking the situation over. "And the first thing he'll think of will be to get square." "Well, if we can't get back we can't get back, and that is all there is to it," answered the doctor's son philosophically. "We've got to make the best of it." "And then that lion-----" added Whopper. But to this the others merely shrugged their shoulders. They found a spot that seemed as good as any, and collecting some dry sticks built a camp fire and made themselves a supper. They were footsore and weary and glad to rest. Inside of an hour after eating all of the lads fell asleep, and each slept soundly until morning. Snap was the first to awaken, and, letting the others rest, he replenished the camp fire and got breakfast ready. There was a sameness about their food that was not very appetizing, but this could not be helped. "When I get back I'm going to live a whole day on pancakes and beans and bacon," said Whopper. "No more rabbits for me, or partridge, either." "That's the one drawback to camping out," returned the doctor's son. "One does get awfully tired of eating game." It was again a question of how to proceed, and once more they mounted a tree to take observations. They now saw two columns of smoke arising on the air, not a great distance off. "Our camp fire and that of the Spink crowd!" exclaimed Snap. "I'll wager a button on it." "I believe you are right," answered Shep. "We'll make for the nearest of 'em, anyway." They set off at a brisk pace, taking as direct a route as the nature of the ground permitted. On the way they came to a large patch of huckleberry bushes and found the berries ripe and luscious. "Let's pick some," said Whopper. "Then we can make huckleberry dumplings, or something like that." "What about huckleberry pie?" suggested Snap. "Great!" They stopped long enough to pick several quarts of the berries, stowing the fruit away in one of the cleaned-out game bags. Then on they went as before. Soon they broke through the woods into a clearing, and on the opposite side of this saw a camp, with several boys lolling around a camp fire. They were members of the Spink crowd and included Dick Bush and Carl Dudder. "Say, where did you come from?" demanded Carl Dudder as he espied them and leaped to his feet. "From the woods," answered Shep calmly. "What do you want?" "Nothing, Dudder, excepting to pass." "Huh! You needn't look so innocent-like, Shep Reed! We know what you did to our boat," put in Dick Bush. "What did we do to it?" asked Whopper. "You know well enough. Think you're smart, don't you?" growled Carl. "We know what you were going to do to our boat," put in Snap. "What?" "You heard what I said. We only got ahead of you, that's all." "We'll fix you for it, don't you worry," said Carl with a cunning leer. "Take care that you don't get into trouble," was Shep's answer. Then he walked around the camp fire and his chums followed. "Where are you going?" asked one of the other members of the Spink crowd. "That is our business." At this answer the other lads merely scowled. There was an awkward pause, and then Shep and his chums moved on and plunged into the woods beyond the camp fire. "They are a real sociable bunch," was Whopper's sarcastic comment. "How I would love to stay with them!" "I'll wager they fight like cats and dogs," put in the doctor's son. "I don't believe they have one real pleasant day." And he was right; the Spink crowd were usually wrangling from morn to night and already one of the number had left and started for home in disgust. The boy hunters had the best part of half a mile farther to go, but this they soon covered and then came to an opening that looked familiar to them. Close at hand was their own camp. As they approached they heard loud talking. "You clear out, Ham Spink, and leave us alone," came in the voice of Giant. "We don't want you around here. And we don't want you, either, Ike Akley." "We'll leave when we please," was the answer from Ham Spink. "We aren't going to hurt you," said the boy named Ike Akley, another of the Spink contingent. "We don't want you around." "Got anything good to eat?" demanded Ham coolly. "Not for you." "We'll not go until you give us something good." "That's the talk!" cried Akley. Let's take a look around and see if we can find any cookies!" said Ham. "You leave our things alone," said Giant firmly. "Bah! You fellows didn't leave our boat alone, so why should we leave your things alone?" growled Ham. "I won't have you looking through our things," cried Giant. He stepped up in front of Ham, who was much taller and heavier. At the same time Tommy ran to a distance and picked up two good-sized stones. "You touch him or the things and I'll throw these!" cried the boy from the circus. "And I'll set my dog on you, too!" "You little rat, you!" roared Ham. "Don't you dare to interfere with me." "I'll take care of the kid!" cried Ike Akley, and strode toward Tommy. But in a twinkling the boy from the circus had leaped into a tree and was safe among the branches. The stones he had put in his pockets, but now he brought them forth again. "Just remember what I said!" he exclaimed. "I'm a good shot, too!" "We'll get the best of 'em, and take what we please!" cried Ham Spink. "Will you?" called out Shep, advancing into the opening, with his gun in his hands. "I rather guess not." Ham looked around, and so did Ike Akley. When both saw the doctor's son, Snap and Whopper, and all with their guns in their hands, they fell back and grew a trifle pale. "Thought you were going to rob us, eh?" said Shep sternly. "N---no," stammered Ham. "We---er---we were only going to take a---er---cookie or two, if you had 'em." "Well, you'll not take a thing, so clear out!" "You---you took our boat," said Ham. "And you were going to take ours, only you didn't find it," said Snap with a grin. "You hadn't any right to touch our boat." "See here, Ham, don't talk like a child. After all you did to harm us in the past we've got a right to do almost anything to you, and you know it," said the doctor's son. "Now you clear out and leave us alone." "You've been following us," put in Ike Akley. "Not at all." "Then why did you come away out here to camp?" "Because we chose to come. Now, clear out---and stay away!" A wordy war lasting several minutes followed. It was plainly to be seen that the shifting of the boat had filled Ham Spink with rage, and he was unusually anxious to "square up" with the four boy hunters. But he could do nothing, and at last he and his crony withdrew. "I am glad you arrived," said Giant. "If you hadn't I am afraid those fellows would have gotten the best of us." "I would have shied rocks at them," said Tommy, who had come down from the tree. "They may be bigger than I am, but I guess I could outrun 'em," and at this remark the others had to smile. "More than likely they'll come back some time," said Snap. "And they'll bring the others with them. We'll have to remain on guard. But, Tommy, I've got great news." "What is that?" "We've spotted a lion---the one that got away from the circus." "A lion!" ejaculated Giant. "Yes; and we are hoping to trap the beast and get the reward offered for its return," said Whopper. CHAPTER XXIII A BEAR AND A LION Giant and Tommy listened with interest to what the others had to tell about the wildcats, the deer and the lion, and also about the stop at the Spink camp. The story about the lion interested Tommy deeply. "Casso will be glad to get that lion back," he said. "And if you capture him alive he ought to be willing to pay well for it." Giant and Tommy had had a rather quiet time in camp. They had hunted and fished a little, and Giant had taken some photos and developed some films and plates and printed a few pictures. The photographs had turned out well, and the young hunters were correspondingly proud of them. "I think my father will be much pleased," said the doctor's son. "I am sure they are right in line with what he wanted. But we must get a good many more." "How about your watch, Shep?" asked Whopper. "I declare, I forgot about it---thinking of that lion," answered the doctor's son. "We'll have to go to that lonely cabin and see if I can't get it back from that crazy hermit---if he is around." A day's rest seemed to make Snap and Shep feel as lively as ever, but Whopper declared that he was still tired out, and, besides, he had scraped an ankle on the rocks and this was quite sore. He said that he was willing to take it quiet for at least a day or two more. "We'll have to see about that lion, and about that hermit," declared Shep. "Supposing we leave you and Tommy in camp this time, and take Giant along?" "All right," said Whopper. "Do you think you can manage---if the Spink tribe come to bother you?" asked Snap. "I think so---unless they come at night." "You'll have to risk that." "Wags will watch out at night," said Tommy. "He's better as a watch dog at night than he is in the daytime." It was decided that the boys should try first to find out if the lion had been trapped. Then they were to journey to the lonely cabin in the woods. Not knowing how long they would be away. They took with them a fair stock of provisions and also a good supply of matches. They also took new films and plates for their cameras. Fortunately, in spite of the rather rough experiences of the boys, none of the picture-taking machines had been damaged, beyond having the leather covers scratched, and this did not matter. "They don't look so well," said Shep. "But they'll do the work, and that's what we want." The doctor's son, with Snap and Giant, started early on the following morning. Giant was glad to get away from the camp once more, and whistled a merry tune as they hurried along. They cut around the Spink camp, not wishing to meet their enemies. "No use of letting them know we are gone," said Snap. "If they did, they'd be sure to go and bother Whopper and Tommy at once---and two couldn't do much against that whole crowd." Snap and Shep had fixed the direction well in their mind and studied the position of the sun, so that they might not go astray. Having left the Spink camp behind them, the three boys struck out in a bee line for the spot where they had left the pit with the dead wildcats as bait. They made good progress, and stopped less than half an hour for lunch at midday. "We ought to reach there before nightfall," said the doctor's son. "That is, unless we get turned around again." "I think we are going straight," answered Snap. "But it may be farther than you think." While tramping along they scared up several rabbits, and Giant brought down one of these. But game appeared to be scarce and nothing else came to view. It was just five o'clock when they reached a clearing that looked familiar to Snap and Shep. "That pit is just beyond here," said the doctor's son. "We'd better go slow---in case that lion hasn't been caught and is at large." The others took the advice and advanced with caution. A fringe of brushwood hid the pit from view. On the other side of the clearing was a dense forest of pines and hemlocks. "Well, I never!" It was the doctor's son who uttered the exclamation. He was slightly in advance and had peered over the bushes. "What is it?" asked Snap in a low tone. "Look, but don't make any noise." Snap and Whopper pressed forward and looked. What they saw thrilled them greatly. On the edge of the pit was a fair-sized black bear. He was sniffing at the carcass of the wildcat that rested on the tree branches laid over the mouth of the opening. "A chance for a fine shot!" whispered Giant a bit nervously. "Wait---we'll get a picture first!" said the doctor's son. "But keep quiet!" The others understood, and, hardly daring to breathe, the three lads swung their cameras into position, got them ready for use, and spread out among the bushes to take some snapshots. The bear was a cautious animal and slowly he circled the pit, sniffing longingly at the carcass so close at hand. Evidently he desired a meat diet for a change and wanted to get the wildcat very much, but did not quite trust the tree branches and what might be underneath. Each of the lads got what he thought was a good picture, and then Snap and Giant looked at Shep and touched their guns. But the doctor's son did not see them, for he was looking wildly at something between the trees on the other side of the clearing. "What do you see?" whispered Snap. "Hush!" answered the doctor's son. "Look for yourself." Snap and Giant gazed in the direction pointed out, and it must be confessed that the hair of the smaller youth literally rose on end. There, between two trees, crouched the lion that had escaped from the circus. The eyes of the monarch of the forest were fastened on the bear, and his tail was swaying from side to side, showing that he was getting ready for a leap. "Shall we---we shoot?" asked Snap. He was so agitated he could hardly speak. "Why not take a picture?" asked Shep, who had his camera still in his hand. "All right---but we don't want that lion to---to come this way." "Not much!" put in Giant, and it must be confessed that his voice trembled a good deal. To face a deer or even a bear was one thing; to face a powerful lion was quite another. Slowly the lion came out from between the two trees. The bear now had his head turned the other way, so he was not aware of the approach of the enemy. It made a magnificent picture, and for the moment the boys forgot their own peril and each took two snapshots, one with the lion almost on top of the bear. Scarcely had they clicked the shutters of the cameras the second time when a blood-curdling roar rent the air, and the lion made one grand leap for the bear. But as this happened bruin chanced to turn slightly, and with a movement wonderful in such a bulky animal the bear sprang to one side. The lion missed his would-be prey and slid forward, directly into the mass of tree limbs covering the pit. "He's going into the hole!" cried Snap. "Look!" All gazed on the scene and saw that Snap was right. Unable to stop himself, the lion had crashed down between the tree limbs and was now struggling vainly to reach firm ground once more. The bear backed away and then, turning, sped off among the trees, not over a dozen yards from where the young hunters were in hiding. "The bear---he's coming this way!" yelled Snap. "Shoot him!" screamed Giant. And he brought around his gun. All tried to get a shot, but the trees were too thick, and in a few seconds the bear was out of sight, crashing down the brushwood as he went. He was badly frightened, and with good cause, for a lion was a new enemy for him. As the bear disappeared the boy hunters turned their attention again to the lion. The monarch of the forest was doing his best to climb over the tree limbs, which turned and bent between him. "Shall we shoot him?" queried Snap. "If he gets loose." "There he goes!" shouted Shep. As the doctor's son spoke they heard a tree limb snap in twain. For one instant the lion clung to the broken end, then, with a roar, the beast sank out of sight into the pit. CHAPTER XXIV A NOTABLE CAPTURE "We've got him! We've got him!" shouted Snap, and his heart gave a wild bound of pleasure. "Don't be too sure," cautioned the doctor's son. "Wait---keep your gun ready for use." "That's it---he may get out of the pit," came from Giant. "Don't take any risks. He could kill a fellow in a minute, if he got the chance!" They waited, each with his gun ready. Down in the pit they heard the lion growling and slashing around. Evidently he was doing his best to get out of the hole. "I'll bet he's mad," said Snap. "One of the dead wildcats is with him," said Snap. "That will give him something to eat." "He'll not think of eating just now," answered the doctor's son. "He knows he is in a bad fix." They waited a minute longer and then the lion became quiet. At last the three boy hunters ventured into the clearing and Shep, with his gun raised, walked slowly to the edge of the pit. Suddenly a fearful roar rent the air, echoing far and wide across the mountains. The lion had discovered the doctor's son. His mane bristled and he showed his cruel teeth to the full. "Can he---do you think he can get out?" asked Snap. "Hardly, or he'd be out already," answered Shep. "Let us pull those branches away. They might give him some sort of a foothold." All three of the boys came up and gazed down on the captured beast. They hauled the tree branches away and threw the second dead wildcat into the pit. Snap did this, and it seemed to cause the lion some surprise. He shut his mouth, his eyes began to blink, and presently he bent down and commenced to feed on one of the carcasses. "He knows he is a prisoner," cried Snap. "See, he's acting just as if he was in the circus." For the monarch of the forest had laid down, with the meat between his heavy fore paws. "I've got an idea," said Shep, looking around. "There are a great number of flat stones on the mountain side. Let us shove them down here and pile up a sort of wall around the top of the pit. That will surely keep the lion in." This was considered a good suggestion, and all the lads set to work without delay. Some of the stones were so large it took two to lift them. They made an excellent wall, and inside of an hour the boys had a barrier around the top of the pit three feet high. "I don't think he'll get out in a hurry," said Shep. "But to make sure we can cut some poles and lay them over the stones and pile more stones on top." "Humph! Why didn't you mention the poles first?" said Snap. "I didn't think of it, Snap." The saplings were cut and placed in a row over the top of the pit and then some stones were put on top of these. Evidently the lion did not like to have his light and air cut off, and he commenced to roar again. But this the boys did not mind, for they now knew they had him fast. It goes without saying that all the boys were delighted over their catch. "We'll have to get word to the circus folks as quickly as possible," said Snap. "But where the show is now I don't know." "Probably Tommy knows the route the circus was to take," answered the doctor's son. "He does, for he spoke to me about it," put Giant. "But I have forgotten the towns and dates." "Do you know what I'd like to do before going on to that lonely cabin?" went on Snap. "What?" "Go after that bear." "Oh, he is probably miles away by this time," said the doctor's son. "He was too scared to stay around here." "Well, let us go after him, anyway. He went in the direction of the cabin---that is, partly." "Well, we'll see in the morning," said Shep. The three boy hunters went into camp not very far away from the pit holding the lion. Once or twice they went up to view their precious prize, and noted that after eating one of the wildcats the lion stretched out and went to sleep. "Guess he thinks he's back in the menagerie," said Giant. "Well, let him, if only he'll keep quiet until the circus people take him away." It was such a warm night they did not bother with a camp fire, but eating some of the food brought along, soon retired and went sound asleep. Once Giant awoke with a start and imagined that the lion was after him, but he soon went to sleep again. I'm the morning they found the captured lion still resting quietly on the bottom of the pit. He had not touched the second wildcat. "He'll have plenty of food," said Snap. "But how about water?" "I was thinking of that," answered the doctor's son. "We'll have to bring some from a spring and lower it to him." They took the kettle they had brought along and filled it at a spring they had found and lowered this into the pit by means of a piece of fishingline Grant carried. At first the lion roared in rage, but when he saw the water he drank eagerly. They had to fill the kettle three times before he was satisfied. Then they took more water and poured it in a hollow on one side of the pit bottom. "Now he won't go thirsty for a long time," said Shep. They cooked themselves a good breakfast and a little later set off across the hills in the direction of the end of Firefly Lake. It was their purpose to get to the lake by noon if possible, and then strike out along the rocky watercourse leading to Lake Cameron. "We'll have to be careful how we tackle that hermit," said the doctor's son. "He may be the craziest kind of a lunatic." "I've got an idea," said Snap. "Wouldn't it be a good idea to wait until night and then crawl up to the cabin while he is asleep?" "It may be---if he didn't take us for robbers and act worse than ever." "Why not try him in the daytime first, and then, if you can't get the watch, go back at night?" said Giant. "He may prowl around at night," suggested Shep. "And, remember, he may not have the watch at all---it's all guesswork." It was an exceedingly warm day, and when it was near noon all three of the young hunters were glad enough to lie down in the shade and rest. Game appeared to be as scarce as the day before and all they shot were some rabbits and one squirrel. "We've got to do better than this before we go home," said Shep. "If we only knew what had become of that bear!" sighed Snap. "Yes, if we only did!" murmured Giant. It was so pleasant in the shade that none of the boys could get up ambition enough to go on until they had taken a nap. Then they went up a hill slowly, carrying their coats over their shoulders. "If it's hot here, what must it be in town?" said the doctor's son. "About ninety in the shade!" cried Snap. At the top of the hill they took another rest. Here there was a little breeze, for which they were thankful. "There is the lake!" cried Giant, pointing to a sheet of water below them. "One good thing, it will be easier going downhill than it was coming up." "I vote we go in for a good swim when we reach the lake," said Snap. "What do you say, Shep?" "I'd rather get to that cabin, before it is too late. But I'll take a ten-minutes' dip, if you wish." So it was agreed, and the boys hurried through the woods to the lake shore in a pleasant frame of mind. "Listen!" cried Snap presently. "What's that---a dog?" All listened and heard a loud barking, coming from the neighborhood of the water. "I think it's a fox!" cried Giant. "You'll remember, they bark just like that!" "Let's try to get a photo and a shot!" answered the doctor's son. "Nothing like getting pictures of everything," he added. They increased their speed, and soon found themselves within a hundred yards of the shore of Firefly Lake. The barking had now ceased, and they stood still, not knowing in which direction to turn. "Something moving over yonder," whispered Giant presently, and nodded with his head down the lake shore. Making no noise, they went forward again. They had to pass some bushes and rocks, and then came to a point where a spur of land jutted far out into Firefly Lake. It was a rocky and sandy spur, with scarcely any brushwood on it. "There you are!" said Snap, and pointed to the extreme end of the spur. There, on the rocks, were two large foxes, their noses well in the air, gazing down the lake attentively. "We've got them," murmured the doctor's son. "Come on, we'll take pictures first and then shoot them!" He brought around his camera and the others did likewise. They had just snapped the shutters when the foxes turned, saw them, and set up a loud and angry barking and showed their teeth. "They are coming for us!" yelled Giant, and he was right. Without hesitation, the foxes made several big leaps and came directly for the young hunters! CHAPTER XXV THE TWO FOXES Ordinarily the foxes would have turned and run away, but, with the lake behind them, this was impossible, consequently they showed fight. They came on snapping and snarling viciously and with their teeth gleaming in a manner that made the boys shudder. Fortunately for the young hunters the distance from the spur of rocks to where the lads stood was over fifty yards, so, as the foxes came rushing on, they had just time enough to shove aside their cameras and bring their shotguns to the front. Snap was the first of the three to bring his weapon into play, and he pulled the trigger when the fox was less than a dozen feet away. The shot was a fairly good one, for it took the beast just under the breast. The fox gave a yelp of intense pain and dropped back. The other fox came rushing at the doctor's son. The strap of Shep's gun had become entangled with that of his camera and consequently it was next to impossible for him to bring the weapon into proper play. He fired, but the charge went too high, and the beast continued to come on, until it crouched at his feet, snapping viciously and getting ready to leap at his throat. It was now that Giant showed his mettle. He, too, had had a little trouble in getting at his gun, but now the weapon was pointed at the fox at Shep's feet. Giant ran closer and pulled the trigger. Bang! went the gun, and the fox received the full charge directly in the left ear. It keeled over, and Giant sent the second charge of his double-barreled weapon into the second fox, and that, too, went down and lay quivering in its death agonies. It took the young hunters some time to recover from the excitement of the occurrence. The attack of the foxes had come so quickly that it had startled them greatly. "This ought to be a warning to us---this and that fight with the wildcats," said Snap. "We ought to be on our guard every minute. We've been lucky so far---maybe some other time we'll not do so well." "Don't borrow trouble, Snap," answered the doctor's son. "Yet I agree with you, we must be more careful in the future. Is your camera all right?" "I think so." "Then let us take pictures of ourselves with the dead foxes," went on Shep, and this was done, and later the photographs turned out very well. Having finished with the picture-taking, the boys threw off their clothing and went for a swim in the clear, cool waters of Firefly Lake. "Say, this is fine!" cried Snap enthusiastically as he splashed the water around. "Makes a fellow feel a year younger, after such a hot tramp as we have had!" "That's what!" answered the doctor's son. "Look at this!" he added as he made a long dive from a rock beside which he knew the water to be deep. They dove and swam and splashed around to their hearts' content for a good quarter of an hour, and even had a little race to a snag sticking up from the bottom fifty yards from the rocks. Then Shep said they had better dress and proceed on their way. They ran out of the lake, shook themselves, and made for the spot whe`e they had left their clothing behind some bushes. Each stared in amazement. The clothing had been left in three heaps; now the garments were strewn around in helter-skelter fashion. "Somebody has been here!" cried Snap. "Is anything gone?" demanded Giant. At this all took a hasty inventory of their possessions. "My shirt is missing!" came from the doctor's son. "One of my socks is gone," added Giant. "My belt is gone," came from Snap, "and so is my camera." "And my gun!" added Shep, looking around to where the weapons had rested against a tree. "Boys, we have been robbed!" "What enemy has done this?" "Can this be the work of the Spink crowd?" For a minute the talk was lively, and then the boys calmed down a little. Even in their excitement they were glad that nothing more had been taken. "I don't think the Spink crowd did this," said Snap. "Ham Spink wouldn't stop short of taking everything." "Exactly my idea of it," answered Giant. "Whoever it was had a queer idea of what to take," said the doctor's son slowly. "A shirt, a belt, one sock, a camera and a gun. Why in the name of goodness did he take one sock and not the other?" "He certainly threw things around pretty well," said Giant. "Maybe it was a wild animal," he continued suddenly. "No wild animal would walk off with a camera and a gun, Giant," returned Snap. "Ha! I have it!" he cried. "That crazy hermit!" "Maybe you're right," said Shep. "It would be just like such a fellow to do a thing like this." "And if he did this he must certainly have taken the watch," went on Snap. "It would seem so." The boys lost no time in dressing. As it was warm, Shep did not miss his shirt very much, nor did Giant miss his sock. Having no belt, Snap used a piece of stout cord instead. "The loss of the gun is bad," said the doctor's son as they were finishing their toilet. "For if that crazy fellow has it, it will be so much harder to tackle him." "That's true," answered Snap. "Maybe he'll shoot himself with it---if he's so very crazy." "Oh, we'll not hope that," murmured Giant. They took the dead foxes and hung them high up in a tree, intending, if possible, to come for them later and turn the meat over to the captured lion. Then they pushed forward in the direction of the rocky waterway that connected the two lakes. "You'll have to lead," said Snap to the doctor's son. "You've been here before." "I'll lead as well as I can," was the answer. "But there is no regular trail---that is, on the other side of the river." The walking now became very rough, and the three young hunters had to proceed slowly. At times they were in sight of the water, but often their course led them inland for a hundred yards or more. "These rocks are something fierce!" exclaimed Giant at length, after slipping and sliding several times. "You beware that you don't twist an ankle," cautioned Snap. Presently they reached a spot where further progress seemed impossible. Giant and Snap halted and looked at Shep. Before them was a little hollow, filled with small stones, and beyond were some shelving rocks with large cracks between. Over the shelving rocks grew heavy masses of vines. "Don't drag," urged the doctor's son. "It is getting late. The sun will be down in another hour." "I can't go any faster," panted Giant. All three advanced and tried to climb the shelving rocks by holding on to the vines. Some of these gave way, and the three boys fell back. Then from under the rocks came a strange, hissing sound, followed by a curious rattle. "What's that?" cried Snap. "Snakes!" roared the doctor's son. "Back for your lives, fellows! We have struck a den of rattlesnakes!" CHAPTER XXVI MORE OF A MYSTERY There was a wild scrambling on the part of all the young hunters to get out of the zone of danger. They leaped for the rocks behind them, and Shep and Snap succeeded in mounting to spots of comparative safety. But Giant was not so successful, and, slipping and sliding, He rolled over and over, coming to a stop when flat on his back. "Get up! get up!" screamed the doctor's son. "Hurry up, Giant!" Shep and Snap had caught sight of three rattlesnakes, that had glided from between the shelving rocks ahead. They were all of good size. One had been caught in the torn-away vines and was hissing viciously, and the other two were sounding their rattles, preparatory to striking at the smaller youth. Giant did not remain upon his back long. The instant he landed he started to turn over. He saw one of the snakes draw near and make a strike at his sockless ankle. Giant let out a yell like an Indian on the warpath, and, on all fours, made a leap like a frog a distance of several feet. Then he stood upright and made another leap for the rocks. As he came close, Snap caught him by the arm and pulled him still higher. The doctor's son was the only person capable, just then, of using a gun, and having no weapon of his own he grabbed Snap's and blazed away. Whether he hit a snake or not he could not tell. There was a hissing and rustling among the torn away vines, and when the smoke of the discharge cleared away the snakes were no longer to be seen. "Ugh! what---a---a thing t---to happen!" said Giant with a shiver. His emotion was so deep he could scarcely speak. "Where are the snakes now?" asked Snap, and drew himself up on the highest rock he could find. "I don't know---hiding, I suppose," answered the doctor's son as he peered around sharply for a sight of the reptiles. The three boys waited for fully two minutes, not daring to make a move. The vines lay where they had been cast, and between them lay Giant's gun, which he had dropped when trying to leap to safety. "I guess we had better get out of this locality," said Snap at length. "I have no desire to be bitten by a rattlesnake!" "Indeed not!" answered Giant. "But my gun---I don't want to leave that behind." "Do you want to go down for it?" "Not for a thousand dollars!" answered the small youth vehemently. "Why, a rattlesnake bite is deadly poisonous!" "I know that as well as you do, Giant." "You might make a cast with your fishing-line," suggested the doctor's son. "I will." Giant always carried several lines, and selecting one of these, he made a loop and to it fastened a small sinker for a weight. Then he made a cast for the gun and secured it. Slowly and cautiously, and keeping on the highest rocks they could find, the three young hunters commenced to retreat. They moved back at least fifty yards, and then made a wide detour along the hill skirting the watercourse. All this took time, and when they thought themselves safe it was growing dark. "This doesn't look as if we were going to get to the cabin very fast," remarked Snap. "How much farther have we to go?" "A good half mile," answered Shep. "Then we might as well go on, even if it is night," put in Giant. "Perhaps we can catch that crazy fellow asleep and make him a prisoner. He ought to be arrested for stealing our things." Presently the doctor's son came to a spot that looked familiar, and a minute later he pointed to a notch cut in a tree. "That is my blaze," he said. "I made it so as to remember where the cabin was located. We'll be there in a few minutes more. Better keep quiet." The others understood, and after that they advanced without speaking, unless it seemed necessary, and then only in a whisper. The sun had gone down, and it was as quiet as it was lonely. The doctor's son was in the lead, and presently he halted and pointed ahead. There was the dilapidated cabin, just as it had been when visited by Shep and Whopper. "See anybody?" asked Giant in a low voice. "Not a soul." "Supposing we walk around the place first?" suggested Snap. The others agreed to this, and they circled the lonely structure at a distance of twenty yards. Nobody appeared, nor did they hear any sound from within. "I may be mistaken, but it looks deserted to me," said Snap. "Well, we thought it was deserted, too, until that fellow shied things at us," answered the doctor's son. At last, growing a bit bolder, the three lads walked slowly up to the cabin, Snap and Giant with their guns ready for use and the doctor's son with a stout stick he had cut. Thus they reached the doorway, which was wide open. Shep looked in, shielding his head with one arm, for he did not know but what he might become the target for anything the strange creature living there should have in hand. The place was pitch dark inside, and for the moment the doctor's son could see nothing. But as his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom he saw a broken table and an old bench, and several discarded articles of culinary ware. "Do yo---you se---see him?" whispered Giant. He was so agitated he could scarcely frame the words. Shep shook his head, and, growing still bolder, stepped into the lonely cabin. With added caution his two chums followed. They tiptoed their way through the two rooms and back again. "He must have gone out," said Snap at last. "Shall I make a light?" And as the others assented he struck a match and lit the pocket lantern he had brought along. The rays of the small light revealed a curious scene to them. In a corner, where it had been hurled, lay Shep's gun. It had been discharged and the buckshot had gone through one sleeve of the shirt that had been stolen and which likewise lay in the corner. There was some blood on the shirt, and bloodstains led across the floor to the doorway and outside. "Must have shot himself," was Snap's comment. "Yes; and ran away after he did it," returned Giant. "See anything of my watch?" asked Shep. "No; and I don't see my belt or my camera, either," answered Snap. "Or my sock," put in Giant. The inner room of the cabin was littered up with a variety of things, the wings of birds, feathers of chickens, shells of eggs, bones, bits of tree branches, an old iron chain, a tiny square looking-glass, badly cracked, some stale bread and cake, cores of apples and pears, and a great mass of other trash. "He's a regular pig," was Snap's comment. "Wonder if he'll come back to-night?" was Giant's question. "Perhaps, unless he was fatally wounded," answered Shep. They made a thorough search for the missing watch, camera, and other things, but without success. Shep would not touch the shirt, and left it where it was. But he took the gun, and after examining it proceeded to load up the empty barrel. "We'll go into camp near here," said the doctor's son. "And keep watch for the missing person, whoever he is." They got supper and went into camp close to the rear of the cabin. They took turns at watching throughout the entire night, but nothing came to disturb them. Early in the morning they visited the cabin again, but found nothing new to interest them. Coming out, Giant started up two rabbits and quickly shot the game. "Say, that will bring him back, if he's in this vicinity," cried Snap. "Perhaps it would have been better-----" He stopped speaking, for as he spoke they heard another gunshot from the woods between them and the river. Then came a call that sounded somewhat familiar. CHAPTER XXVII AN OLD FRIEND APPEARS "That can't be the wild man, can it?" queried Giant. "No," answered the doctor's son. "I think I know that voice." "I think it's Jed Sanborn," came from Snap. They waited for a few minutes and then saw a familiar figure emerge from the woods. It was their old hunting friend, and in his hand he carried six partridges. "Hello, there!" he cried on coming closer. "Thought you fellers was a-goin' up to the Windy Mountains?" "We've been up---have our camp there," answered the doctor's son. "We came down here for a purpose." "Everything all right at home?" asked Giant. "Yes. We had a scare day before yesterday, though. Hicks' barn got afire, an' folks thought the town might burn down, account o' the wind. But the bucket brigade an' the engine got the fire out before anything else caught." "Are our folks all well?" asked Snap. "Yes; an' hopin' you are the same, as they write in letters," and the old hunter grinned. "Had much luck shootin' and picter-takin'?" "We are well satisfied," answered Shep. "Got quite some partridge and rabbits and some deer, and a lion-----" "Oh, sure! A lion! Suppose ye got an ellerphant, and hoppo-what-you-call-'em, too?" "We did get a lion," said Giant. "We've got him in a pit." "See here, son, lions don't roam these woods, an' never did. You are mistook in the beast." "It's the circus lion, Jed; the one that got away at Railings," explained Snap. "Oh! Do ye really mean it?" And now Jed Sanborn was tremendously interested. "Yes. We saw him on the mountain side and found a big pit and made a trap of it with some wildcat meat, and we caught him." "Is he alive an' well?" "Yes." "Glory to Washington! Do you know them circus folks has offered a reward o' three hundred dollars fer that lion if caught alive?" "Then the money is ours!" cried Shep. "Hurrah, boys, that suits me down to the ground!" "Are you sure about the reward?" asked Snap. "O' course---I read the poster in the post-office. They'll give three hundred dollars fer the lion an' five hundred fer the eddicated chim---what-you-call-him. You know." "The educated chimpanzee," said Shep. "That's it. It looks as if that chimpanzee was wuth a lot to them. He was a whole show in hisself." "Well, we've got the lion right enough," said Snap. "We don't know anything about the monkey." They told the old hunter about many of their doings, and related the story of the missing watch, camera, and other things. "Why, I didn't know anybody lived in this cabin," said Jed Sanborn. "It's been empty ever since old Sturgis died---about twelve years ago. He had some awful disease---like smallpox---and folks got scared to come here." "Gracious! You don't suppose we'll get any disease?" cried Giant in alarm. "Not from him, son---it's too long ago. Why, say, I was at this cabin less than a month ago---stopped here overnight account o' a rainstorm." Wasn't nobuddy here then. It can't be Peter Peterson, can it?" "No; it didn't look like Peterson," answered the doctor's son. "Besides, Peterson isn't so plumb crazy as this chap." "I'll take a look around," answered Jed Sanborn. He made the same investigation as had the boys. Then he got down on his hands and knees and examined the soft ground in and around the cabin. "Say, did ye see anything o' a dog around here?" he asked. "Yes," answered Giant. "That is, the circus boy we told you about has his dog with him---a collie." "Here's a trail looks something like a dog's, but not much. Plenty o' other footmarks---but I reckon you made those." What to do next the boys did not know. There was no telling what had become of the strange occupant of the lonely cabin, or when he would return. "We'd like to let those circus folks know about the lion," said the doctor's son. "I suppose one of us will have to go back to town to send them word." "I am going back to town to-morrow," answered the old hunter. "I can take word, if ye want me to." "That will do first-rate," answered Shep. "We can send word where some of the men can meet us---and in the meantime we can watch the lion, so that he doesn't get away, and doesn't die of hunger and thirst." "Wild beasts can live a long time without food and drink," said Jed Sanborn. "But the gittin' away is another story. Better watch him putty closely." After a good deal of talking the boys decided to return to their camp. It was arranged that the old hunter should depart for town at once, find out where the circus was, and inform the proprietor that the lion was found. Then, when a circus representative appeared, Sanborn was to meet him, arrange to cage the lion, and meet the boys at their camp, the location of which they described in such a manner that it could not be missed. Sanborn said the circus manager had found out that the three discharged employees were guilty of letting the animals escape, and the men were now in jail. "Tell our folks that we are well and having a grand time," said Snap, and Sanborn promised to do so. After a hearty dinner, at which the old hunter ate his fill of the things cooked by Giant, the boys and the old hunter separated, and Shep and his chums struck out for the camp. It was still warm, so the doctor's son did not mind the loss of his shirt. He had more at the camp, so the loss did not matter much. "I am glad we saw Jed," said Shep as they trudged along. "That will save us the trip to town. I hope he gets the circus folks here soon." "Tommy won't want to see them," said Giant. "He told me he never wanted to see the inside of a circus tent again." "And I don't blame him," returned Snap. "Well, he can easily keep out of the way, and we needn't say anything about him." "Wonder what he'll do after we go home?" "I've got an idea," came from the doctor's son. "Let us take him with us and do what we can to find his sister. If we can't find her, let us see if we can't find a home for him and put him to school. He ought to get an education." "I'm willing to do what I can," said Snap readily. His eyes brightened. "We might spend some of that reward for the lion on Tommy. I'd be willing to put in my share." "So would I," answered Shep. In the middle of the afternoon they reached a beauwul spot in the mountains, where a rocky stream formed a series of waterfalls. This locality had been mentioned by Dr. Reed, and they spent some time getting different pictures of it, Snap assisting the others, since he had no camera of his own. "I hope I get that camera back," he said. "We all hope that," returned Giant. "The wild man can keep my sock---I shouldn't want to touch it after he had it." The water at the foot of the falls looked good for fishing, and Giant pleaded for permission to fish for a quarter of an hour or so. This was granted, and he promptly baited up and threw in. As a consequence he soon caught a beautiful brook trout, and several more followed. "Wait; I'll take a snapshot of hauling in the next fish," said the doctor's son, and he succeeded in getting a view that later on turned out exceedingly well. Not having anything else to do, Snap wandered down the brook for a distance of a hundred yards. He was on the point of turning back when he saw something at a distance, moving among the brushwood. He looked sharply for a moment and then discovered that it was a large black bear. CHAPTER XXVIII AFTER A BLACK BEAR "Shep! Giant! Quick!" "What's the matter, Snap?" "A bear! Down the stream! Come on with the guns!" went on Snap excitedly. He had returned hot-footed to where he had left his chums and the firearms. "Are you sure?" queried the doctor's son as he dropped his camera and grabbed up his shotgun. "Dead certain---but I don't know how long he will stay there. Oh, if I had only had my gun with me!" groaned Snap. "I could have brought him down as easy as pie!" "Aren't you going to take your camera?" asked Giant as he drew in his line and took both his photo outfit and his firearm. "Yes, I forgot," said the doctor's son, and picked up his camera again. "Don't shoot till we get a snapshot," he said to Snap, who, gun in hand, was already off. "All right; but we don't want to lose the bear," answered the other young hunter. "Of course not!" With Snap in the lead, the three boys sneaked swiftly but silently down the mountain brook until they came to the spot from which Snap had discovered the bear. Here they halted, and the others looked enquiringly at their leader. "I saw him right over yonder," whispered Snap. "Go slow, now, or you'll scare him." With bated breath the three young hunters advanced down the tiny stream. They gained the shelter of some dense brushwood and gazed around eagerly. Not a sign of a bear was to be seen anywhere. "Maybe you were dreaming, Snap," murmured Giant. "No, I wasn't---I saw him just as plain as day." "Then he must have seen you running back to the pool, and he must have took out, too." "Perhaps; but I was very careful to keep out of sight." They advanced a little farther, and now saw ahead of them a slight hollow, where there was another waterfall, sheltered on either side by sharp rocks. "There he is!" whispered the doctor's son excitedly, and pointed down to the pool at the foot of the falls. The black bear was there, getting a drink. "We can't take a picture from here," said Giant disappointedly. "What shall we do---fire?" "Oh, we ought to have a picture of him," pleaded Shep. "It would be just the thing for our collection." "Let me suggest something," said Snap. "I haven't any camera, so I'll stay here. You two can make a half circle and come up below and kind of head the bear off. If he starts to run before you get ready I'll fire at him." So it was agreed, and Shep and Giant hurried off without delay, making a wide detour through the woods and over the rocks. They could not help making a little noise, but this was, as they rightfully reasoned, drowned out by the falling of the waters. In the meantime Snap kept careful watch of the bear. The animal took his time drinking, raising his head several times to look around him. But he did not turn his gaze upward, and consequently did not discover the young hunter, who stood with weapon aimed, ready to fire at a moment's warning. Fully five minutes passed, and then the bear stretched himself and commenced to sniff the air. Then, of a sudden, he arose on his hind legs to get a better look at his surroundings. "This is the time they ought to get their pictures," thought Snap. An instant later he saw something fluttering in the bushes below the pool. Shep and Giant were there and had their cameras in action. The bear continued to stand upright, but presently he dropped on all fours and began to lumber away from the brook at a good rate of speed. To have waited longer would have been foolish, and taking careful aim, Snap fired his shotgun twice. Scarcely had the two reports rung out than Giant also fired, followed, a few seconds later, by the doctor's son. The aims of all three of the young hunters were true, and the bear received such a peppering of buckshot that he was seriously if not mortally wounded. He dropped down, dragged himself up again, and roared with rage and pain. "Give him another!" yelled Snap as he started to reload. Giant was the first to run into the opening, and as the bear saw the youth he snarled viciously and showed his teeth. He tried to rush at the boy, but Giant discharged the second barrel of his shotgun and the charge took the bear in the head. Then the doctor's son fired again, and hit the animal in the side. This was too much for bruin, and with a rocking motion he staggered forward a few steps and then pitched on his head, dead. "We've got him! We've got him!" yelled the small youth, dancing around wildly and flinging his cap into the air. "Isn't this the dandy luck?" "Did you get the pictures?" questioned Snap, leaping down the rocks to where the game lay. "We sure did," answered the doctor's son. "And I've got one of you aiming your gun right at the bear. I tilted the camera up a little to get it." "What a fine bear!" cried Giant. "We never got a better," answered Snap. "Oh, this is certainly prime luck!" "We'll have to take some more pictures---of our game," said Shep, and without delay they took several plates and films---the two cameras being of each kind. All the boys were in the pictures, and of these photographs they were justly proud. "Now, the question is, what are we going to do with the bear?" said Snap. "We can't drag such a load to our camp." "We'll have to skin the animal and take what meat we want," answered the doctor's son. "It's too bad to leave so much behind, but it can't be helped. It won't keep in this weather, anyway." "If only Jed Sanborn was here---he might take some of it home." "I'll tell you what we can do," said Giant. "Try to drag the carcass---or a big part of it---up to the lion's pit. It will help to feed that beast until the circus folks come." "That's an idea," said Shep. "And if we keep the lion well fed he won't try so hard to get away. Menagerie animals are always lazy when well fed---one of the keepers told me that. They only get restless when they are hungry." It took the boys some time to skin the dead bear and cut away such meat as they thought they could tote along. The rest of the meat they hung in a tree, thinking they might possibly come back for it later. Then they started once more for camp. "I hope the Spink crowd hasn't been bothering Whopper and Tommy since we have been away," said Snap. "If they have-----" "Don't borrow trouble," interrupted the doctor's son. "Wait till it comes." With their heavy loads, they made slow progress through the woods, and they were glad when they reached the lion pit and could dispose of some of the bear meat. The lion greeted them with a roar, but that was all. He had not yet eaten the second wildcat; nevertheless, they threw to him a chunk of the bear meat, the fresh blood of which was very much to his satisfaction. It was late when they reached camp, thoroughly tired out. Whopper and Tommy were glad to see them, and immediately bustled about to get them a good supper. Those left behind listened with interest to the tale the others had to tell. When Shep told about the tracks around the lonely cabin, tracks that had caused Jed Sanborn to ask if they had seen a dog, Tommy looked greatly interested. "Say!" he cried. "Do you suppose-----" And then he stopped short. "Do we suppose what?" queried Shep. "Oh, I suppose it couldn't be, but I was just thinking. Maybe that isn't a crazy man at all." "Well, what do you think it can be?" asked Giant. "Maybe it's Abe, the runaway chimpanzee." CHAPTER XXIX THE BOTTOM OF A MYSTERY All the others listened to Tommy's words with interest. Then Whopper spoke of the face he had seen as looking particularly impish. "It was pretty dark, so we couldn't see very well," said he. "It might have been the chimpanzee." "Would that chimpanzee steal a watch, and a camera, and a gun?" demanded the doctor's son. "He'll take whatever happens to interest him," answered the boy from the circus. "They are constantly trying to teach him new tricks. If you'll remember, one of his tricks is to fire a gun into the air. And another is to look at a watch and pretend to tell the time." "That's so!" cried Snap. "I saw him do both at the show." "Would he untie our boat?" asked Giant. "He might." "If it is the chimpanzee we'll have a hard job of it catching him," said Shep slowly. "He won't stay at the cabin, but roam from place to place---and there is no telling what he'll do with our things." "Don't forget the reward that has been offered," said Giant. "If we can find the chimpanzee we can get that as well as the reward for the lion." Whopper and Tommy had not been bothered by the Spink crowd, and were of the opinion that the latter had shifted their camp to a new locality, closer to the lake. "Well, let them keep their distance, that's all I ask," said the doctor's son. The next day Snap, Shep and Giant rested, while Whopper and Tommy went on a short hunt, bringing in some partridges and several squirrels. The boys took a few pictures, Snap using an extra camera that had been brought along. They now had a fine collection, of which they were exceedingly proud. Sunday passed, and still they heard nothing from Jed Sanborn. The boys went hunting several times and brought in a variety of small game. They made a trip to the mountain-top and got several more photographs of value. Films and plates were carefully stored away in water-and-light-tight cases. "I am sure my father will be greatly pleased when he sees what we have accomplished," said Shep. "I don't believe he thought we could do so well." On Tuesday morning, just after breakfast, the young hunters heard somebody coming through the woods toward them. Wags set up a violent barking. "Maybe it's Sanborn with the circus folks," said Whopper. "Oh, what shall I do?" asked Tommy in alarm. "I don't want them to see me." "It's the Spink crowd!" cried Giant. "Say, something must be wrong! Look how excited they are!" "We ought to shoot 'em---that's what we ought to do!" they heard Carl Dudder say loudly. "We'll make 'em pay for the things, that's what we'll make 'em do," answered Ham Spink. "Call off your dog, you rascals!" sang out Dick Bush, for Wags had walked toward him, barking angrily. "Come here, Wags!" cried Tommy, and the collie obeyed instantly. But he evidently knew that the newcomers were enemies, for he continued to eye them suspiciously. "Think you're smart, don't you?" roared Ham Spink, striding into the camp and facing Shep and Snap. "Well, I want you to know that you have gone too far. You've got to pay damages, or we'll have you all locked up." "You've got to pay for my new suit of clothes," said Ike Akley. "It is utterly ruined." "And my sweater," said Dick Bush. "And I want to know where my shoes are?" put in Carl Dudder. "And my briar-root pipe and tobacco." "Yes, and my silver matchcase, and a whole lot of other things," said Ham Spink. "Yes; and what right had you to make a roughhouse of our camp?" demanded another boy. "All of our stores are ruined," put in still another. "It was mean to scatter that coffee in the mud!" "And the sugar and beans!" "Yes; and put the salt in the flour!" So the talk ran on, the newcomers getting more and more excited every moment. They had their guns with them, and looked as if they meant to do serious harm to our friends. "See here, what are you talking about?" asked the doctor's son at last. "I can't make head or tail of it." He realized that something unusual had occurred. This brought forth another volley of accusations from the Spink crowd. Their camp had been "rough-housed" to the last degree, and many things had been utterly ruined, while other articles were missing. They were sure that Shep and his chums were guilty of the crime. "You are all wrong," cried Snap. "We haven't been near your camp." "That's the truth," added Shep. "I don't believe it," cried Carl Dudder. "But it is true---every word of it," came from Giant, and Whopper and Tommy said the same. "You've been there---and you have our things," said Ike Akley doggedly. "If you want to do so, you can search this camp," said Shep. "But don't you harm any of our goods." "Do you mean to say you didn't come to our camp last night?" demanded Ham. "I certainly do say it," answered the doctor's son. "All we did was to hide that boat, and we did that because we knew you wanted to hide ours." "Huh! How did you know that?" "Because we heard you talking about it, on the way to the lake." "Well, if you didn't come to our camp last night, who did?" asked Dick Bush. He was commencing to realize that a mistake had been made. "Don't ask me," answered Snap. "But, honor bright, we weren't near your camp, Dick." "Maybe it was the chimpanzee!" cried Tommy. "Eh?" queried Ham. In a few brief words the Spink crowd were told of what had happened at the cabin, at the cliff, and at the lake shore. No mention was made of the capture of the lion. "We think it was the chimpanzee," said Snap. "But we may be mistaken---it may be a crazy man." More talk followed, and in the end Snap and his chums agreed to visit the wrecked camp and take a look around. They left Tommy in charge of their own camp and warned him to keep strict guard. It was a walk of half a mile, and the boys covered it in less than half an hour. Snap was in advance, with Ham by his side. Ham still thought our friends guilty of what had occurred. "Here's our camp---or what's left of it," said Ham as they came to the clearing. "Now, if you-----" He stopped short and gazed ahead, with eyes bulging from his head. Snap gave a yell. "Boys, here he is! The chimpanzee, and he's having a high old time!" All of the others rushed forward, and saw a sight that filled some with rage and others with laughter. Sure enough, Abe, the educated chimpanzee, was there, and was evidently having the time of his life. He had on a highly-colored dress shirt, a cap and one shoe, and was amusing himself by tearing a hunting suit belonging to Ham into shreds. "The chimpanzee, sure enough!" "Look what he is doing!" "Shoot him! Shoot the rascal!" So the cries rang out. The chimpanzee looked up in alarm. Then, as several guns were raised, he leaped out of sight behind some bushes and went off, chattering wildly as he disappeared. CHAPTER XXX GOOD-BY TO THE BOY HUNTERS "I'll kill that monkey!" roared Ham as he ran into the camp and picked up his ruined clothing. "Look at this!" "And this!" added Carl Dudder, snatching up the remains of his sleeping blanket. "It was the chimpanzee, sure enough," said Dick Bush. "Come on after him!" exclaimed Shep. "Remember the reward," he whispered to his chums. All presently made off after the chimpanzee. They kept in a bunch at first, but gradually separated, the Spink crowd going one way and Snap and his chums in another. "I'm glad we caught sight of him as we did," said Whopper. "Now those fellows know we were not guilty of the rough-housing." "It certainly was rough," was Giant's comment. "Three-quarters of their things are ruined." "Perhaps they can hold the circus proprietor responsible," said the doctor's son. They moved forward for nearly a quarter of a mile, and were on the point of giving up the search and returning to camp when Giant caught sight of a small, cave-like opening on the mountain side. "Let's look in there," he said. "See, there is a vest on the ground in front of it!" "Be careful---the chimpanzee may be dangerous!" warned Snap. They hurried forward, with eyes and ears on the alert. Giant looked into the opening. "No monkey here," he announced. "But he has been here. Look!" And much to Snap's delight he held up the missing camera. Then he ran into the cave and came forth with Shep's watch, and a number of trinkets taken from the Spink camp. "He must have come here after he left the old cabin," said Snap. "See, there is some food. He must have gotten that last night, when he raided Spink's place." They took with them all the things to be found, and then made another search for the chimpanzee. But they could not locate the marauding creature, and so turned their steps toward their camp. "Well, we've got a few of those others fellows' things for them," said Whopper. "We can return them after dinner." "The camera is O.K.," said Snap, after an examination. "And so is the watch," came from the doctor's son. "And to think it was only a chimpanzee, after all!" cried Giant. "'Only' is good!" exclaimed Shep. "He's had enough for anybody, I'm thinking!" As they came closer to their camp they heard Tommy talking in a loud voice to somebody. Wags was barking gaily. "Now you sit still and behave yourself," the circus boy was saying. "Then you'll get a fine lump of sugar." "Talking to the dog, I suppose," said Whopper. "He thinks Wags-----No, he isn't, either. Well, I never! If this doesn't beat anything I ever saw!" All came into the clearing and gazed in amazement at the sight presented. Chained to a tree was Abe, the chimpanzee, smiling and chattering, and in front of him were Tommy and the dog, the former with some sugar in his hand. "Hullo!" cried Snap. "Did you catch him?" "I certainly did!" answered the circus boy. "But I had the time of my life doing it. He ran up a tree, and he wouldn't come down until I offered him a handful of those nuts I found yesterday. They were too much of a temptation, and while I fed him nuts with one hand I took the kettle chain and tied him up as you see." "Good for you!" said Whopper. "He must have known you, or I guess he would have run away." "Yes, he started to run away, but I whistled like his keeper used to whistle, and that made him sit still." "You want to make sure of that chain," said the doctor's son. "I see he has Snap's belt on," he added with a grin. "I'll tie him with a rope," answered Tommy, and later the chimpanzee was firmly secured, so that escape was out of the question. As the young hunters fed him well, he seemed quite content. "Tommy, this is an important capture for you," said Shep. "It's money in your pocket. The circus proprietor has offered five hundred dollars reward for the capture of this chimpanzee." "Five hundred dollars!" gasped the little fellow. "But they won't pay it to me!" he added, as his face fell. "We'll make them pay---if they want the animal," answered Snap. "But I don't want them to see me," insisted Tommy. "See here, Tommy, you leave this matter to us," said the doctor's son. "I don't think they can compel you to go with the circus. We'll take you to Fairview, and you can remain with us until we hear from your sister." "All right; but if they take me I'll run away again," answered the boy. A little later the Spink crowd came into camp and were astonished to learn of the capture of the chimpanzee. They were glad to get back the things that had been found, but declared that so many other articles had been ruined they would have to give up their outing. "Let's be generous to them," whispered Shep to his chums. "I don't think we want to stay after the circus people come for the lion and the chimpanzee." And after some talking the young hunters offered the Spink crowd part of their food supplies and a few other things. This surprised Ham, Carl and the rest. They accepted the offer on the spot, and a better feeling prevailed between the boys than had for many months. "It's very nice of you to do this," said Dick Bush. "I shan't forget it." "I'm sorry I accused you of ruining the camp," came from Ham. "So am I," added Carl. "But---well, you know how it was." "We'll let bygones be bygones," said the doctor's son. "It's better to be friends than enemies." "I---I suppose so," said Ham humbly, and then he and his cronies took their departure. The young hunters watched out for the reappearance of Jed Sanborn, Snap and Shep going to Firefly Lake for that purpose. Two days later they saw the old hunter coming to the shore with a big flat-bottomed boat, containing four men. The men were from the circus and said they had come for the captured lion. "We want to make sure of that reward," said the doctor's son. "All right, young man, turn the lion over to us and the money is yours," said one of the men. "But we'll want a receipt from all the boys who captured the beast." "You'll get that," said Snap. "You offered a reward for the chimpanzee, too, didn't you?" "Certainly; five hundred dollars." "Well, we've got him, too." "You have? How did you do it?" asked the man, and very briefly Snap related the tale, but did not give Tommy's name. "That boy is in luck, for the half thousand is his," said the circus man. "Glad you got Abe," he added. "He is a great drawing-card and worth a dozen lions to us." A visit was made to the lion pit, and after a good deal of trouble the lion was brought to the surface of the ground and chained and muzzled. One of the men knew the beast well and had little trouble in walking the lion to the lake shore, where he was chained to a tree, and left in charge of one of the party. The circus men were vastly surprised when they learned that it was Tommy who had captured the chimpanzee. At first they did not think they ought to pay the lad the reward, but Shep told them they could not have Abe unless they did so. "A bargain is a bargain," said the doctor's son. "You'll not touch the chimpanzee unless you pay up." The matter was argued hotly, but in the end the circus men gave in, and two checks were made out, both payable to Dr. Reed, and the boys signed the receipts. Then the circus men took the chimpanzee, and walked down to the lake shore. "Guess you don't want Tommy any more," cried Shep after them. "No; we've got another kid to take his place," answered one of the men. "They'll have their hands full getting that lion and the chimpanzee to town," said Snap, and he was right. But the work was accomplished by the next day, and the pair were shipped on to the circus by train. The young hunters remained in camp forty-eight hours longer, and then packed up and moved down to Firefly Lake. Just previous to going they let the Spink crowd have some more of their things, for which the other lads were extremely grateful. "Guess we better be friends after this," said Ham Spink. "It doesn't pay to be on the outs." "It doesn't," answered Shep readily. On the return to Fairview the boy hunters camped out three nights, and shot a variety of small game and also a deer. They took the latter home and also the skin of the bear, which was afterward cured and is now on the floor of the Dodge parlor." "You have done exceedingly well," said Dr. Reed, when he had heard their story and gone over their films and plates and pictures. "These will make a grand collection, and are just what we wanted for advertising purposes." The money obtained for the capture of the lion was divided among the four boy hunters, and the amount received for the chimpanzee was placed to Tommy's credit by the doctor, and the former circus boy went to live with the Reed family for the time being. Several letters were sent to Tommy's missing sister, and at last word came back from her. She had married a storekeeper who was rich, and she asked that Tommy come to live with her. "My, but that's grand!" cried Tommy. "Now I'll have a good home." "I'm mighty glad of it," said Shep, and the other lads said the same. Later they received letters from Tommy stating that his sister and his brother-in-law treated him well and were going to give him a fine education. "Well, it was a great outing," said Snap, one day, when the boy hunters were talking it over. "We'll have to go out again some day," said Whopper. "School for ours!" cried the doctor's son. "Right you are," came from Giant. "But, say, we had a dandy time, didn't we?" "So we did!" cried all the others; and here we will leave the four boy hunters and say good-by. THE END 
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32361	----	THE PROPHETIC CAMERA By John McGreevey [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy August 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] [Sidenote: Joey knew the old man had somehow faked his pictures; after all, nobody could photograph the future. But then the future began to happen!] Joey Barrett set his camera carefully to one side and swung onto the edge of the desk. He knew this annoyed Nugent, and, at the moment, nothing gave him greater satisfaction than his ability to irritate the editor. His heels thunked against the highly polished sides of the desk, and he shook his head very deliberately, in rhythm with the heel-hammering. "No," he said. "I don't think so, Nugent." He decided the drumming had lost its impact, so, he crossed his legs and turned to face the balding man behind the desk. "Why should I? This assignment's out of my line and you know it." Nugent nodded. "I know. But this is an unusual story, Joey, and I'd like to get a photographer's slant on it." "Want to find out how the other half thinks, huh?" Nugent referred to a memo. "This is the address." He pushed the slip of paper toward Joey. "I think you'll find this Jason Ewing most cooperative." "He's a crackpot." Joey shied away from the memo and slid off the desk. "That's why none of your brainy reporters will touch the assignment." "He's eccentric." Nugent didn't bother to hide his impatience. "What inventor isn't?" "He's an inventor?" "New kind of camera. That's where you come in, Joey." Nugent leaned back in his swivel chair. "I want a photographer's reactions to it." "What's so special about his camera?" Nugent didn't look at Joey. "It photographs another dimension." There was a moment's silence. Nugent was abruptly preoccupied with his hands. Joey moved slowly toward the desk. "Another dimension! You mean stereoptican stuff? With depth?" Nugent stood. "No. I don't think that's what Ewing means." He moved from his desk to the window. "I want you to find out what it is. Get all the information you can." "Are you sure this doesn't belong on the comic page, Nugent?" Dusk was settling over the city. Nugent stared out at the darkening skyline. "I admit it sounds crazy. But, it'll make a good human interest yarn." He turned back to Joey. "Just bring in the facts and one of the re-write boys will put them in shape." Joey Barrett's chin set doggedly. "You've got no right to ask me to...." But he didn't finish. His editor had abruptly moved in very close. "You're in no position to quibble, Joey." "What does that mean?" Nugent's thin lips were tightly compressed. "The management's not happy with you." Joey's laugh was brittle. Nugent walked slowly back to his desk. "I've had more and more complaints about your work." Joey was close behind him. "I take the assignments you hand me. And there's no one on the staff gets a sharper shot." Nugent waved this aside. "It's your manner." He pushed a glossy eight by ten print toward the photographer. "You play up the grisly, the macabre." Joey stared down at the picture. A slow smile narrowed his eyes. "I photograph what I see. I figure it's what your readers want to see, too." Nugent sat heavily. "We had a hundred phone calls about that picture. Brutal ... sadistic ... morbid." The print fell face up before Nugent. He turned it over. Joey laughed. "Sure. It's all those things. And they loved it." He leaned very close to Nugent. "You didn't have to print it." "It was the only shot I had. It was print it or be scooped on one of the big stories of the year." Joey's outward nonchalance failed to mask entirely his inner tension. "When I take a picture, they remember it." "There's a difference between memorable photography and cheap sensationalism." The editor picked up the memo with Ewing's address. "All things considered," he said, "I think you'd better get this interview for me." Joey stared at Nugent for an insolent second. Then, he took the memo. He checked the address, jammed the paper into his pocket, and moved quickly to the door. Hand on the knob, he paused. "Oh, Nugent," he called, "if you can't see the story I bring back, just remember: it's in another dimension." He slammed the door on Nugent's anger. * * * * * Early evening traffic was heavy as he pulled into the quiet, old-fashioned street where Ewing lived. Sober brownstone houses, their front steps rising steeply to stain-glass paneled doors; heavily curtained bay windows; weather-stained and rotting gingerbread; an atmosphere of reluctant decay and genteel senescence. Ewing's house was like a dozen others in the same block. Joey was not a man given to hunches, and yet, as he climbed out of his car and stood staring up at the silent house, he could not repress a shiver of apprehension. He looked up the street. Nothing marred the quiet. A middle-aged woman hurried home with her armload of groceries. A man paraded an ancient dog on a leash. Slowly, Joey climbed the steps. His apprehension was no more than the resentment he felt for the assignment. He yanked the old-fashioned bell and listened for its echoes dying deep in the house. He fidgeted impatiently. Perhaps old Ewing wasn't at home. Or, maybe he was so eccentric he no longer answered the bell. Joey jerked it again. On the traffic-noisy boulevard a block away, he heard a raw squealing of brakes. Joey sighed and turned away. He'd wasted an hour. He started down the steps. And the door opened. Jason Ewing was very old. His incredibly blue eyes seemed alien in the yellow parchment face. His clothing, his manner, even his speech were archaic. As Joey shook the bony hand, Ewing was apologizing for the delay. "I was in my dark-room," he said--the voice strangely resonant to come from so frail a chest--"and I had to get the developer off my hands." Joey nodded and stepped inside. The atmosphere of the house was a curious mixture of chemical and decay. There was a layer of dust on the bric-a-brac, and as Joey followed the stooped figure from the entry-hall into the living-room, he saw Ewing as a kind of insubstantial ghost, moving through the deserted rooms so carefully that the dust was not disturbed. Ewing gestured to a chair which looked prim and uncomfortable in its yellowed antimacassars. "Sit down, please, Mr. Barrett." He switched on an ornate table lamp. "It's most kind of you to be interested in my work." Joey gave him the automatic smile. The room was a combination studio and parlor. A bulky, antique camera lorded it over the conventional furnishings. Its unblinking eye regarded Joey coldly. There was a fireplace, with massive brass andirons cast to resemble griffon-heads; purple draperies at the window were faded by sun and time; the heavy furniture was defiantly shabby; even the antique photograph album with its plush cover and gold-plated clasp and lock was right for the room. This was Jason Ewing's world and Joey felt himself to be an alien. * * * * * Ewing hovered nervously, white fingers clenching and unclenching, reaching out, now and then, to touch the album on the dusty table-top. "I know you are a busy man, Mr. Barrett," he said, "so I'll come at once to the point." Joey relaxed as much as he could in the old chair. "I should tell you first, Mr. Ewing, that I'm not a writer. I'm a photographer. My editor thought maybe you and me would talk the same language." Ewing bobbed his head up and down. "Excellent. Excellent." He pulled up a small chair. "Believe me, Mr. Barrett, I hesitated a very long while before I decided to make my discovery public." Joey disguised a grin. "What finally decided you?" Ewing closed his eyes. "I'm not well. Heart. Most unreliable. Doctor tells me I may ... may die ... at any time." "I see." "But, before I die," the old man said, leaning forward again, "I must share my secret." He seemed to have difficulty in finding the words he sought. "It's ... it's so extraordinary, Mr. Barrett, that I've been afraid to divulge it." He gave a sad shake of his head. "People today are so unwilling to accept the unusual." Joey writhed inwardly. This was worse than he had thought. He would make Nugent pay. "Mr. Nugent said something about your photographing another dimension," he prompted. The old man pushed himself to his feet. "It was accidental. I've dabbled in amateur photography for years." He limped over to his camera. "Not only took pictures--developed my own." He paused and looked very directly at Joey. "About six years ago, I began experimenting with a new developer." Ewing's eyes were disturbing. Joey looked away. "You had used commercial developers before?" "Yes." Ewing gripped the camera. "I wanted a developer that would give a more sharply defined image. I tried fifty different formulae--never quite achieving what I had in mind." Joey lit a cigarette. "You must have spent a lot of time on it." "I had retired. I live alone here. No other interests." The phrases came in little gasps, as if Ewing had to force the words between his lips. "Made no progress. And then, I tried Formula #53." The pause indicated Joey was expected to react. "Formula #53?" Ewing moved back to the light. "My fifty-third experiment. Radical departure from commercial developers." "It succeeded?" "It succeeded, Mr. Barrett, but not in the way I had imagined." The fish-white hands rested on the photo album. "I developed some film in Formula #53 and received the shock of my life." His voice was a whisper. "The pictures on the negative were NOT the pictures I had taken." He paused to watch the effect on Barrett. Joey scratched his ear. "You took one set of pictures and the negatives you got were of another set?" "I know what you're thinking," Ewing said. "What I thought at first: that I'd gotten hold of the wrong film. But that wasn't the answer. The same thing happened again and again. Whenever I used Formula #53 as my developer, I produced a strange set of pictures." Joey stood up nervously. The old boy was crazier than he had first guessed. Humoring him seemed the only answer. "That's incredible." Ewing nodded excitedly. "I thought I was losing my mind. But, slowly, I began to realize what had happened." "What?" The old man sank into the chair by the table. "School of modern philosophers ... teaches all time is co-existent." Joey felt almost sorry for the old boy. He was so much in earnest about his crack-brained discovery. "Time ... co-existent?" "Past, present, future--all simultaneous. Running along in parallel dimensions." * * * * * Joey tried a laugh. "Little rough for me, Mr. Ewing," he apologized. "Look," he went on quickly, "I've been thinking...." But Ewing wasn't listening. "Simplify it. At this moment, Caesar crossing the Rubicon; Columbus is discovering America; you and I are talking; a man in the twenty-fifth century is rocketing toward Mars." "I see what you mean." Ewing was holding the old fashioned photo album in his lap. "Well, I know now that what I've stumbled into with Formula #53 is another dimension in time." "You mean that ... that you can take a picture of what's happening in another time?" Ewing nodded. "I know it's difficult to grasp, Mr. Barrett." He held out the plush-covered album. "But I have proof." Joey stepped toward the old man. "You've got pictures in there--pictures of this other dimension?" "Yes." He fumbled in his vest pocket, found a small key, and with trembling hand inserted it in the album lock. "I've never shown anyone these pictures before," he said. Despite himself, Joey felt excited. Even as he dismissed Ewing as a hopeless crackpot, he was disturbingly eager to see the pictures in the old album. Ewing gestured for him to be seated. Joey sat in the chair near the table and the old man handed him the open album. "So far," Ewing said, "I haven't been able to control the process. I photograph a subject and the picture may be projected ten years into the future or a hundred years into the past. There must be an infinite number of dimensions registered on the film, but my developer varies." Joey's initial eagerness was quickly dissipated. The photographs in the album were disappointingly ordinary. True, there were some that seemed to be trick-shots and a few in which the costuming was unfamiliar, but certainly nothing to document the old boy's claim. Aside from a few shots that were interesting because of their violence, there was nothing in the album. Ewing waited for Joey's reaction--the parchment face even more deeply wrinkled by excitement--the blue eyes blazing. "Well, Mr. Barrett?" Joey left the album open at the picture of a gruesome accident. Apparently, two cars had met head-on. The one had been a sleek convertible. The other was an old sedan. Both were terribly crumpled. Glass littered the street. Steam spewed from the twisted radiator of the old wreck. A man sprawled from the front seat of the sedan--an elderly man, with a white beard--a beard spattered with blood. His sightless eyes stared accusingly at the small cluster of onlookers who surrounded the wreck. Nearby, thrown from the crushed convertible by the impact, lay a woman. She wore an extreme evening dress, and a fur cape had fallen not far from her body. All around her were pearls ... spilled from the broken strand at her throat. Joey looked up at Ewing. He shook his head. "You've got some interesting pictures, but I can't see that they prove your theory. They could have been taken any time." He pointed to the photo of the wreck. "This one, for instance." He smiled up at the old man. "That looks like a shot I might have made." Ewing's entire body seemed shaken by his eagerness to prove his point. "Mr. Barrett ... that picture is of an accident that hasn't occurred. One evening, I took a picture of the street out there ... at the corner ... where our street joins the Boulevard." His voice was low, urgent. "When I snapped that photo, the street was deserted. There were no cars--no people." * * * * * Joey took another look at the wreck. He closed the album with finality. "Mr. Ewing," he said, "I'm not questioning your sincerity. I can see that you're convinced your developer has extraordinary powers." "But you don't believe me." There was despair in the old man's voice. "What can I say to make you believe that you've just looked at the picture of an accident that's yet to happen." Joey laid the album on the table. "It's an interesting theory." Ewing moved to his camera. "It's more than a theory. I can prove it." He ducked behind the camera. "Let me take your picture, Mr. Barrett, and I'll prove it." "Wait a minute!" Joey half rose from the chair in protest, and then, with a shrug subsided. "Sure," he said. "Why not?" "Thank you," Ewing answered. He focused the camera, cut on extra lights, posed Joey, took his picture. The ordeal over, Joey moved toward the door. "You'll see, Mr. Barrett. This picture will convince you." Joey nodded. "Sure, sure. You give me a call." They were in the entry-hall. "As I said," Ewing continued, "I haven't much time. That's why I'm very anxious to pass on my discovery. It could do great good--in the right hands." Joey opened the door. "I understand," he said. "You give me a call." "I will." Joey was outside--the door between him and Ewing's pathetic eagerness. As he bounded down the steps, he was devising a revenge extreme enough for Nugent. He slipped in behind the wheel. It was surprising that anyone as near psycho as Ewing should be loose. The old boy had lived too long alone in the empty house. Just as he drew away from the curb, Joey heard the crash. Squealing rubber, splintering glass, rending metal, perhaps a human scream ... compounded into an awful discord that ricocheted against the quiet brownstone fronts, building to a crescendo of metallic anguish. After the first moment of surprise, Joey experienced the curious exaltation he always felt at a scene of violence. The trip wasn't a waste after all. He'd get a picture, and from the sound of the crash, it would be a good one. As he clambered out of his car, camera ready, people were running down steps, cars were swinging off the boulevard--the first cluster of the curious was collecting. With professional assurance, Joey brushed people aside and moved in. One car had been stopped at the intersection and the other had careened off the boulevard and smashed head-on into it. Joey stopped on the crowd's inner edge and stared. It was impossible. One car was an old sedan. The other, a sleek convertible. An old man with blood-spattered white beard half-spilled from the sedan and on the glistening pavement lay a woman in evening dress, surrounded by dozens of pearls. * * * * * From habit, Joey took the picture of the accident and delivered it to Nugent. By the time he had developed his picture, he was beginning to enjoy the knowledge that it was an exact duplicate of the photograph in Ewing's album. Only he and Ewing realized the power of Formula #53. It couldn't be coincidence. The details were too exact. Ewing's explanation was the only one possible. And that meant the old boy wasn't crazy. The formula was all he insisted. Such a formula could be a great force for good, the old man had said. In the right hands. In the hands of Joey Barrett. Joey decided to keep his secret. This was not a power to be shared with Leslie Nugent or anyone else. So, when he faced his editor again, he was careful to dismiss the Ewing interview with just the proper degree of casualness. "There's no doubt about it," he said. "Ewing's a crackpot." Nugent scowled impatiently. "Even so...." "I tell you, if we run the story he gave me, we'll be laughed out of business." Joey watched Nugent closely. "But surely as a human interest yarn," the editor protested, "we'd be justified." Joey shook his head. "He's an old crank, trying to build up his ego with these phony claims." Nugent leaned back. "There was absolutely no basis for his theory?" "None." Joey laughed easily. "You should have seen the obvious trick photos he tried to pass off as evidence. My advice is: forget Jason Ewing." There was a long pause. Then, Nugent nodded. "All right. Thanks, Joey." He picked up a glossy of the accident. "You outdid yourself on this one." Joey sauntered to the door. "The master's touch," he called. "I'll hit you for a raise later." Satisfied that Nugent considered the Ewing story dead, Joey left the paper and hurried to a pay-phone. When Jason Ewing answered, there was a note of near-hysteria in his voice. He seemed frightened by Joey's interest and was extremely reluctant to give him another interview. "I don't blame you for being irritated," Joey said. "I was very rude. But look, Mr. Ewing, now I see I was wrong. We can't talk about it on the phone. All I want is a chance to see you again. Maybe tomorrow?" There was such a long pause that Joey thought Ewing had broken the connection. Then, he heard the old man sigh. "I ... I don't know what to say," Ewing faltered. "In the light of ... of recent developments, I think it would be unwise to involve you, Mr. Barrett." Joey laughed. "Listen, this is the break of a lifetime for me. How about tomorrow morning at nine?" "Tomorrow." The one word was neither affirmation nor question. But Joey chose to interpret it as agreement. "See you in the morning at nine, Mr. Ewing," he said, and hung up quickly. * * * * * Joey slept little that night. He was up early, gulped a hasty breakfast, and stood on the steps at Ewing's house at five minutes to nine. Again, as on the day before, he had to ring the bell twice before the door opened and the wrinkled face showed itself. He was shocked by the change in Ewing. The man seemed much older and there was a haunting fear in the blue eyes. "It would have been wiser," the old man whispered, "if you had not come here again--for us not to have met." Joey was determined to be charming. He put his hand on the thin old arm and gently pushed Ewing into the entry hall. "I don't blame you for being bitter," he said, closing the door. "I was a fool yesterday." Ewing pulled free and moved agitatedly into the living-room. Even the morning sun made no impression on the shadows there. The old man didn't look at Joey. "You were right," he said. "It would be better to forget the formula." Joey fought down his impatience. He tried to move smoothly, keep his voice calm. "No. You mustn't think that. You can't be selfish. You said yourself, Mr. Ewing, that this knowledge could do great good." The quiet persuasiveness of Joey's approach seemed cause for further alarm. "I said that, but since then ... I ... I see that it might also do great harm." He tottered away from Joey and slumped tiredly into the chair by the table. "Mr. Ewing," Joey said, following him, "yesterday I saw one of your pictures come to life." Ewing did not look up. "I know. The accident at the corner. I was afraid you had seen it." "Afraid!" Joey laughed. "That was the clincher." He leaned over the old man. "Listen, Mr. Ewing, the second I saw that wreck, I realized what we have in Formula #53. I want to help you make use of it--the proper use." The old man shook his head. "I'm afraid," he whimpered. Joey ignored the interruption. "We'll work this together. If we play it smart, the sky's the limit. We can be millionaires. Name our own prices." He laughed in his excitement. "They'll meet our demands when they see what we've got to offer." Ewing had slowly pushed himself to his feet. He regarded Joey with mixed apprehension and disgust. "You ... you can't commercialize my discovery," he protested. "I wouldn't permit the formula to be used for personal gain." "Not just MY gain. You and me together." Joey looked at the red-plush photo album and rubbed his hands. "I'll bet we got pictures in that album worth a hundred grand." Abruptly, Ewing stepped past Joey and seized the album. He cradled it in his arms. "That's out of the question." He tottered toward the fireplace. "Mr. Barrett," he pleaded, "I beg you to go now." Anger simmered in Joey--anger and frustration. "All right," he said, forcing himself to be reasonable. "Those are your pictures." He faced Ewing at the fireplace. "But if I take some, will you give me the formula so I can develop them?" Stubbornly, the old man shook his head. "What IS the formula?" Joey demanded. "I've never written it down." Ewing clutched the red-plush photo album with one hand and gestured imploringly with the other. "Mr. Barrett, every moment you stay here, you jeopardize us both. Leave now. Please. Forget we ever met ... that you ever heard of Formula #53." "Forget!" Joey's hands clenched and unclenched in mounting desperation. "You can't start a guy on a thing like this, Ewing, and then tell him to forget it!" For a long second, they stared at each other. Ewing was breathing heavily and perspiration beaded the parchment face. * * * * * Joey tried another tactic: "Look ... if you don't want to give me the formula, at least let me have a few of the pictures in that album. Whatever I get out of them, I'll split with you." He reached out tentatively. Ewing shrank back. "Go away. Let me alone. There's nothing in the album. I burned the pictures." "You're lying!" The thought of the money the old fool had thrown away cut into Joey like a knife. "You wouldn't do a crazy thing like that." "Only two left. Should have burned them." Panic seized Joey. He grabbed at the red-plush album. "I don't believe you. Let me see." Ewing held onto the book with the tenacity of an aged crab. "You mustn't," he croaked. "You're destroying yourself. Don't." But the old man's stubborn and futile resistance stoked the smouldering fires of Joey's anger. He gripped one corner of the coveted trophy with his left hand, and with his right, gave Ewing a vicious shove. With a rattling cry, the old man staggered back and fell with a clatter into the fireplace. The book was in Joey's hand. He didn't look at Ewing. The clasp was not locked. Feverishly, he opened the heavy cover. The truth took his breath away. Ewing hadn't lied. The pages were empty. He had burned the pictures. The crazy old fool! But he had said there were two pictures left. Joey thumbed hastily through the empty album till he reached the first of the remaining pictures. He cried out. It was a self-portrait of Ewing. He lay sprawled on the floor before the fireplace, blue eyes staring up at the ceiling, blood smearing his temple and one of the massive brass andirons. Joey dropped the album on the table and slowly turned. He closed his eyes. "Oh, God!" he whispered. "No! No!" Like a sleep-walker, he moved to the silent figure, knelt, searched in vain for pulse or heart-beat. There was none. Jason Ewing was dead. Joey stared at the andiron with its tell-tale stain. He pulled himself up to a half-crouch and looked wildly around the dark living-room. The camera was an accusing eye. "It was an accident," he murmured. "His heart. He was an old man." The photo album still lay open on the table. Ewing had saved two pictures. One of himself. The other.... There was a heavy knocking at the front door. Joey went shakily to the album. Gripping the table's edge, he turned to the second picture: Joey Barrett sat in a chair. His trousers were slit. His head was shaved and there were straps and electrodes. It was the kind of picture that would sell a thousand extra copies. 
33183	----	KODAKS _and_ KODAK SUPPLIES 1914 CANADIAN KODAK CO., Limited TORONTO, CANADA "KODAK" Is our registered and commonlaw trade mark and cannot be rightfully applied except to goods of our manufacture. When a dealer tries to sell you, under the Kodak name, a camera or films or other goods not of our manufacture, you can be sure that he has an inferior article that he is trying to market on the Kodak reputation, and he also makes himself liable to suit by us for damages and injunction. _If it isn't an Eastman, it isn't a Kodak_ KODAK SERVICE Make it simpler. From the very inception the Kodak Idea has been--make photography so simple that anybody can take good pictures. Simpler cameras, simpler processes have followed each other with almost startling rapidity. But the Kodak Company has not been satisfied with merely making mechanical and chemical improvements; it has assumed the responsibility of educating people in picture taking. The very first Kodak, way back in 1888, was accompanied by a so-called "manual" that did more than merely explain the operation of the mechanical features of the camera. It showed how the pictures should be taken, _how_ (and how not) to photograph a tall building, how to photograph a small child--told about the length of exposures in different kinds of light, both in-doors and out. It was really a primary hand-book of photography. From that day on, every piece of Kodak apparatus, every amateur product of the Company has been accompanied by the most concise instructions, instructions that were also constructive because they not only told the beginner what to do but _why he was to do it_. Even in the Kodak advertising matter as much space is given up to telling people how to make pictures as in telling them why they should buy Kodak goods. Booklets in large editions, giving instructions in practically every phase of amateur photography have been and still are distributed without charge. Photography has not merely been made simpler, it has been explained to all who are interested. "Kodakery"--A Monthly Help And now comes a new help to the beginner--"Kodakery," a little magazine that will tell the amateur how to get better pictures. It's beautifully illustrated. Written and edited by those who know photography inside and out and who also know the places where the amateur has trouble, it will be a joy and a help to every enthusiast, will add for thousands to the Witchery of Kodakery. Every purchaser, after May 1st, 1914, of a Kodak or Brownie camera will be entitled to "Kodakery" for one year without charge--he may have it continued by subscribing at 50 cents per year if he so desires. In the back of each Kodak and Brownie manual, which we are now printing, is a "subscription blank" which, upon being properly filled out and mailed to--"Kodakery," Toronto, Ont.--will entitle the purchaser of such camera to one year's free subscription to "Kodakery." At the time this plan goes into operation there may still be some such manuals without a subscription blank, but in such case a blank may be obtained from the dealer of whom the camera was purchased. Every purchaser of a Kodak or Brownie Camera is entitled to one copy of the manual or instruction book and to one year's subscription to "Kodakery." The editors of "Kodakery" aim first of all to make the little book a real help. At the same time it will be interesting and its delightful illustrations will show the beginner new possibilities in amateur photography. This little magazine is but a part of the Kodak Service. To sell a camera and then turn the customer adrift has never been a part of the Kodak plan. Along with our improvements in apparatus and materials, we have always endeavored also to improve the Kodak Service. "Kodakery" will, we believe, prove the means of keeping us more closely than ever in touch with our customers. In many ways it will be directly helpful--and it will always suggest the propriety of the customer's going to his Kodak dealer or to us, if there are little difficulties (there are no big ones, now) to be overcome. It is to be a real help--a part of the Kodak Idea--one more aid to the beginner in the making of good pictures. CANADIAN KODAK CO., Limited. Toronto, Canada. Kodak Ball Bearing Shutter This shutter is automatic and as its leaves are mounted on ball bearings it operates with remarkable smoothness and precision. The leaves open and close in the form of a star, admitting a much larger amount of light in the same space of time than the ordinary type of shutter. All but the No. 0 work with bulb or finger release and have variable indicated speeds of 1/25, 1/50 and 1/100 second as well as bulb and time exposures. [Illustration] They are also fitted with indicator for registering each exposure as made and iris diaphragm. Supplied with Kodak Junior No. 1A, and Folding Pocket Kodaks, Nos. 1A, R. R. Type; 3, 3A and 4. The No. 0 is supplied with the Vest Pocket Kodak and Vest Pocket Kodak Special, and is similar to the above excepting that it works with finger release only, has variable speeds of 1/25 and 1/50 second, and is regularly equipped with the Kodak Autotime Scale. The No. 0 is also supplied with the Kodak Junior No. 1, but in this instance is not fitted with autotime scale. Pocket Automatic Shutter This shutter has star shaped opening and is automatic in action. It works with finger release for bulb, time and instantaneous exposures and is perfectly reliable in every respect. Fitted with iris diaphragm stops and regularly supplied with Nos. 1 and 1A Folding Pocket Kodaks, and Nos. 2 and 2A Folding Pocket Brownies. [Illustration] Brownie Ball Bearing Shutter The ball bearing type of shutter has been found so accurate and reliable that we have designed a shutter on the ball bearing principle for the 3 and 3A Folding Brownie cameras. This shutter is well made in every respect, it works with bulb and tube or finger release, and is fitted with the Kodak Autotime Scale--a great help for amateur photographers, especially beginners. [Illustration] The Brownie Ball Bearing shutter works not only for time and bulb exposures, but has variable indicated speeds of 1/25, 1/50 and 1/100 second. It is fitted with iris diaphragm and supplied with the Nos. 3 and 3A Folding Brownie cameras. For a more complete description of the Kodak Autotime Scale supplied with this shutter, see page 8. Compound Shutter The Compound shutter is an automatic and setting shutter combined. Automatically, either time or bulb exposures may be made, while it may be set for speeds of from 1 to 1/150, 1/200 and 1/250 second, according to size of shutter. The shutter leaves are formed of segments opening in star shape, giving even illumination over the entire plate the instant the exposure is started, and an iris diaphragm is supplied for stopping down. [Illustration] Case is made of aluminum, and accurate adjustments can be made with the shutter in any position. Regularly supplied on the Nos. 1A, 3, 3A Special and _Six-Three_ Kodaks and as a special equipment with the Nos. 4 and 4A Folding Kodaks. Kodak Automatic Shutter and Kodak Autotime Scale The Kodak Automatic shutter is carefully adjusted for time, bulb and instantaneous exposures. It is also graduated for fractional parts of a second, and is unusually accurate. [Illustration] This shutter is fitted with the Kodak Autotime scale and is supplied as a special equipment on the Nos. 1A, R. R. Type; 3, 3A and 4 Folding Pocket Kodaks. The Scale greatly reduces the liability of error in exposure, as it automatically indicates the proper time and stop opening for subjects under any condition of outdoor photography. It is exceedingly simple to use. The speed indicator is merely set at the point on the scale indicating the kind of light prevailing and the diaphragm indicator at the point indicating the character of the subject. These scales are also supplied at a nominal charge for the following shutters when fitted with double lenses only, and can be readily attached by any amateur. Always order by Style letter. Style A. For use with Kodak Ball Bearing shutter, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 and 3-1/4 × 4-1/4. Style AA. For Kodak Ball Bearing shutter, 3 × 5-1/4, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 and 4 × 5. Style B. For use with F. P. K. Automatic, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 and 3-1/4 × 4-1/4, No. 1 S. V. (Blair or Premo) Automatic, or No. 1 B. & L. S. V. Automatic shutters. Style BB. For use with F. P. K. Automatic, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 and 4 × 5, No. 2 S. V. (Blair or Premo) Automatic, or No. 2 B. & L. S. V. Automatic shutters. Style C. For use with Kodak Automatic shutter, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4. Style CC. For use with Kodak Automatic shutter, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 and 4 × 5. Style D. For B. & L. Automatic and Century Automatic shutters, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4. Style DD. For use with B. & L. Automatic and Century Automatic shutters, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 and 4 × 5. Style DDD. For use with B. & L. Automatic shutter, 4-1/4 × 6-1/2. Style I. For use with Kodak Ball Bearing shutter, 2-1/4 × 3-1/4. Price, any of above styles, $1.00. Style H. For use with No. 0, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 Compound shutter. Style HH. For use with No. 1, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 and 4 × 5 Compound shutter. Style HHH. For use with No. 2, 4-1/4 × 6-1/2 and 5 × 7 Compound shutter. Price for any style Compound shutter, $1.50. Kodak Lenses The regular R. R. and meniscus lenses used on Kodak and Brownie Cameras have always been the best lenses of their respective types that could be secured. These lenses are perfectly adapted to everyday amateur photography, producing pictures under normal light conditions that leave nothing to be desired by the average amateur. For those, however, who wish even greater efficiency and capabilities, we supply the anastigmat lens equipments. The superiority of the anastigmat lens, without attempting to go into the technicalities of the subject, consists of--Perfect definition over the whole negative, absolute flatness of field, and higher speed. In R. R. lenses the tendency to lack of definition toward the edges, which always occurs in an uncorrected lens, is so slight as to be unnoticeable except to the most expert eye. In a true anastigmat, it is entirely eliminated. The speed of a lens is determined by the relative size of the diaphragm opening. An R. R. lens cannot be used at an opening greater than 1/8 its focal length, commonly designated as _f._ 8. But an anastigmat lens can be so corrected as to permit the use of larger diaphragm openings and still produce sharp, clear negatives. This larger opening admits more light within a given time than that of the R. R. lens, hence the anastigmat is much faster. Thus the Zeiss or Cooke Kodak Anastigmat lens, working at an aperture of _f._ 6.3 admits 60 per cent. more light in a given time than does the R. R. This speed advantage enables the user to make short exposures on dull days or under poor light conditions, where hopelessly undertimed negatives would result with an R. R. lens. And under proper conditions, exposures up to 1/250 second with a Compound shutter and 1/1000 with a focal plane shutter, can be made with the anastigmat. In the last few years there has been a steadily increasing interest in and demand for anastigmat lens equipments among amateur photographers, and we responded to this demand, first by furnishing the Special Kodaks fitted with Zeiss Kodak Anastigmat lens, _f._ 6.3--a lens fully corrected and offering the advantage of high speed. These have been followed by the _Six-Three_ Kodaks. These differ from the Specials in that they are simply our regular Kodak models, without the special covering and finish of "Specials," and fitted with anastigmat lenses specially designed by Taylor, Taylor & Hobson, for Kodak use and called the Cooke Kodak Anastigmat. This lens works at _f._ 6.3 and is fully corrected in every particular. Vest Pocket Kodak The extraordinary popularity of the Vest Pocket Kodak is due not alone to its compactness--it is so flat and smooth and small that it will readily slip into a vest pocket--but also to the excellent quality of its pictures, whether printed by contact or enlarged. In fact, this little camera in itself is so very desirable and of such general utility, that we furnish it with several different equipments to meet any demand. For average photography, the camera fitted with Kodak Ball Bearing shutter and tested meniscus achromatic lens is amply efficient, for it will make excellent pictures under ordinary conditions. For those who want the microscopic definition of the anastigmat, we offer the Vest Pocket Kodak, this year, fitted with the new Kodak Anastigmat lens. This lens works at _f._ 8, it is fully corrected, and made of the first quality of Jena glass. This makes a most desirable outfit at a surprisingly low price for an anastigmat equipment. Then for those who want not only the absolute sharpness and flatness of field, but the maximum of speed as well, we offer the camera fitted with Zeiss Kodak Anastigmat lens, _f._ 6.9. [Illustration] The appearance of the Vest Pocket Kodak is so suggestive of quality, that it makes an ideal camera for gift purposes on holidays, birthdays, at graduation time, and such occasions. For these purposes we have devised the Kodak Gift Case shown in the illustration. The Vest Pocket Kodak in this case is fitted with Kodak Anastigmat lens, _f._ 8. The carrying case is of imported satin finish leather, in a shade of soft brown that is in perfect harmony with the deep blue of the handsome silk-lined container. The whole outfit possesses a quality and richness that will appeal to the most fastidious. The Vest Pocket Kodak with any equipment is always ready for action. It is only necessary to pull out the front to its full extent, and the camera is in focus for objects at any distance. The shutter is automatic, and a convenient reversible finder, for composing the view in either horizontal or vertical position, is provided. [Illustration] Another feature is the extreme simplicity in loading--nothing trappy or fussy about it. Indeed, the operation of the camera is simple in every detail, nothing in the way of simplicity or efficiency having been sacrificed in order to reduce the size. In Detail For rectangular pictures, 1-5/8 × 2-1/2 inches. Capacity, 8 exposures without reloading. Size of Kodak, 1 × 2-3/8 × 4-3/4 inches. Weight, 9 ounces. Lens, regular, meniscus achromatic, 3-inch focus. _Special_, Zeiss Kodak Anastigmat _f._ 6.9, or Kodak Anastigmat _f._ 8. Shutter, Kodak Ball Bearing No. 0. Brilliant reversible finder. All metal body, black enamel finish and black leather bellows. The Price Vest Pocket Kodak, meniscus achromatic lens and Kodak Ball Bearing shutter $7.00 Vest Pocket Kodak with Kodak Anastigmat lens _f._ 8 and Kodak Ball Bearing shutter 13.50 Kodak Gift Case, includes Vest Pocket Kodak with Kodak Anastigmat lens _f._ 8, imported satin finish leather case and silk-lined container 16.50 Vest Kodak, _Special_, Zeiss Kodak anastigmat lens, and Kodak Ball Bearing shutter 22.50 Leather Case for Vest Pocket Kodak .75 Grain Leather Case for Vest Pocket Kodak _Special_ 1.50 Imported Satin Finish Leather Case 3.00 Hand Bag for Vest Pocket Kodak .25 _De Luxe_ bag, suede calfskin, long straps 1.75 N. C. Film Cartridge, 8 exposures, 1-5/8 × 2-1/2 (No. 127) .20 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 No. 1 Kodak Junior So complete and varied has the Kodak line become, so altogether simple is the operation of each camera, that each year it looks well nigh impossible to strengthen the line or broaden the selection for the amateur. [Illustration] However, the Kodak policy of never letting well enough alone has developed two most attractive new models this year, which round off the whole line, being built upon the idea of providing genuine daylight-all-the-way Kodaks, with all the Kodak convenience and dependability, for those who wish to take up photography at the minimum of expense. The first of these models, the No. 1 Kodak Junior, makes 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 pictures and loads with the Kodak Film cartridge of six exposures (No. 120). And for loading and unloading, the back of the camera is constructed upon a new principle which makes it unusually easy to remove. A striking feature of this camera is its extreme thinness and all-around compactness. It will readily slip into the pocket, and yet it is fully equipped for efficient work in all branches of general amateur photography. It is fitted with the No. 0 Ball Bearing shutter, speed 1/50 of a second, with cable release, as described on page 6, and offers the choice of rapid rectilinear or meniscus achromatic lens. All lenses fitted to this camera must stand the usual rigid Kodak tests. The No. 1 Kodak Junior is provided with automatic focusing lock, collapsible reversible finder, two tripod sockets--in fact, the practical, convenient working equipment which one expects in a true Kodak. The camera is well made in every respect, it is covered with a good quality of grain leather, and the metal parts are finished in nickel and black enamel. The low price means no stinting in either material or workmanship. It is only possible through the perfection of our scientific factory organization and the large quantities which our large distribution enables us to make at one time. [Illustration] In Detail For rectangular pictures. 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 inches. Capacity, 6 exposures without reloading. Size of Kodak, 1-7/16 × 3-5/8 × 6-5/8 inches. Weight, 23 ounces. Lens, meniscus achromatic, 4-1/4-inch focus. Also supplied with rapid rectilinear lens if desired. Shutter, Kodak Ball Hearing No. 0, with cable release. (See page 6.) Brilliant, reversible, collapsible finder. The film cartridge for this camera is the same as the one used for No. 2 Brownie and not for No. 1 Folding Pocket Kodak. The Price No. 1 Junior, Kodak with meniscus achromatic lens and Kodak Ball Bearing shutter $7.50 Ditto, with R. R. lens 9.00 Black Sole Leather Case, with strap 1.50 Kodak Autotime Scale (Style 1, for use with the camera when fitted with R. R. lens only) 1.00 N. C. Film Cartridge, 6 exposures (No. 120) .20 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 No. 1A Kodak Junior In this new model is offered the advantages of low cost, with Kodak efficiency, which we have seen in the No. 1 Kodak Junior, in a camera made upon the same principle for 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 pictures. [Illustration] This is one of the most popular amateur sizes, the proportion being unusually pleasing for landscapes, street scenes, and the like, in the horizontal position, and admirably adapted for portraiture when used vertically. With its strikingly thin, compact form, its reliable equipment and its low cost, the No. 1A Kodak Junior is sure to please anyone who prefers pictures of this size. This model will accommodate the regular twelve exposure Kodak N. C. Film cartridges, and thus offers the daylight-all-the-way feature of all Kodaks. The shutter is the Kodak Ball Bearing with cable release, which works not only for bulb and time exposures, but has variable indicated speeds of 1/25, 1/50 and 1/100 second. The leaves, opening in the shape of a star, admit the greatest possible amount of light, for a between-the-lens shutter, at each exposure. The camera is furnished with either meniscus achromatic or rapid rectilinear lens. In both cases the lens is carefully tested and must conform to the high Kodak standard before it is allowed to go on the camera. Simplicity marks this camera in every respect. It is made with the new style back--unusually easy to remove for loading and unloading. It has an automatic focusing lock, which permits the camera to be brought to focus quickly for objects at any distance. The finder is of the new collapsible type; it is reversible, and two tripod sockets are furnished, so that the camera may be easily used in either the vertical or horizontal position. So compact that it will readily slip into the pocket, this camera offers that high standard of efficiency which is inseparable from the Kodak idea. The back and bed are made of aluminum, the covering is genuine leather, and metal parts are finished in nickel and black enamel. [Illustration] In Detail For rectangular pictures, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 inches. Capacity, 12 exposures without reloading. Size of Kodak, 1-5/8 × 3-3/4 × 8 inches. Weight, 28 ounces. Lens, meniscus achromatic, 5-inch focus. Also supplied with R. R. lens if desired. Shutter, Kodak Ball Bearing with cable release. (See page 6.) Brilliant, reversible, collapsible finder. The Price No. 1A Kodak Junior, with meniscus achromatic lens and Kodak Ball Bearing shutter $ 9.00 Ditto, with R. R. lens 11.00 Black Sole Leather Case, with strap 1.50 Kodak Autotime Scale (Style A, for use with camera when fitted with double lens only) 1.00 N. C. Film Cartridge, 12 exposures (No. 116) .50 Ditto, 6 exposures .25 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 Nos. 1 and 1A Folding Pocket Kodaks [Illustration] These little Kodaks are designed for those who wish compact folding cameras which can be easily carried in the pocket and which will make pictures without the necessity of focusing or estimating distances. Upon opening the camera the front springs automatically into position, ready at once for making pictures of objects at any distance. A reversible finder makes composition easy, and slight pressure of the shutter lever makes the exposure. When closed the bed folds over front and bellows, concealing all adjustments, and the camera can then be very conveniently carried in any coat pocket. The camera is made of aluminum, with best seal grain leather covering and has nickel fittings. They differ only in the size of the pictures they make. In Detail For rectangular pictures, No. 1, 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 inches; No. 1A, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 inches. Capacity, each 12 exposures without reloading. Size of Kodak, No. 1, 1-5/8 × 3-1/2 × 6-3/4 inches; No. 1A, 1-3/4 × 3-7/8 × 7-3/4 inches. Weight, No. 1, 16 ounces; No. 1A, 22 ounces. Lens, meniscus achromatic, No. 1, 4-inch focus; No. 1A, 5-inch focus. Shutter, Pocket Automatic. (See page 6.) Brilliant reversible finder. The Price No. 1 No. 1A Folding Pocket Kodak, with meniscus achromatic lens, Pocket Automatic shutter $10.00 $12.00 Black Sole Leather Case, with shoulder strap 1.50 1.50 N. C. Film Cartridge, 12 exposures (No. 105 for No. 1, No. 116 for No. 1A) .40 .50 Ditto, 6 exposures .20 .25 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 .50 No. 1A Folding-Pocket Kodak--R. R. Type [Illustration] This is a camera of greater capabilities and wider scope than those previously described--the first of that series of double lens Kodaks which have played such a prominent part in the development and popularization of amateur photography. These cameras are fitted with the best R. R. lenses to be had, each one carefully tested to the highest standard and fitted only if it conforms to that standard. The shutter is of the Kodak Ball Bearing type. The camera as a whole makes a compact, inexpensive outfit, considering its capabilities, and one which, though suitable for the most serious work, will slip readily into the pocket, and is so simple that it may be effectively handled by the beginner. In Detail For rectangular pictures, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 inches. Capacity, 12 exposures without reloading. Size of Kodak, 8 × 2 × 3-3/4 inches. Weight. 26 ounces. Lens, double combination, rapid rectilinear, speed, _f._ 8, focal length, 5 inches. Shutter, Kodak Ball Bearing. (See page 6.) Automatic focusing lock. Two tripod sockets. Brilliant reversible finder. The Price No. 1A F.P.K., R.R. Type, R.R. lens, Kodak Ball Bearing shutter $15.00 Ditto, with Kodak Automatic shutter 20.00 Black Sole Leather Carrying Case, with strap 1.50 Kodak Autotime Scale (Style A) 1.00 N. C. Film Cartridge, 12 exposures, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 (No. 116) .50 Ditto, 6 exposures .25 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 Nos. 3 and 4 Folding Pocket Kodaks These cameras are made for two standard amateur size pictures and are similar in every essential respect excepting in the matter of size. The No. 3 makes 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 pictures--a favorite with many, and especially suitable for lantern slide making, as the slide can be printed by direct contact. The No. 4 makes 4 × 5 pictures and is preferred by many on account of the comparatively large size which it is possible to get of the objects in the composition. [Illustration] Both cameras offer the usual Kodak simplicity, and the exceptional lens and shutter equipment which assures the user the maximum of efficiency in all work where an anastigmat equipment is not necessary. The illustration on the opposite page shows the No. 3. The shutter is the Kodak Ball Bearing, in which is mounted an R. R. lens which must stand the most rigid test before it is passed by our inspectors. This lens works at _f._ 8, and as the leaves of the Kodak Ball Bearing shutter open in the shape of a star, the greatest possible amount of light is admitted at this opening--a fact which makes the instruments especially valuable for snap-shot work. The cameras are equipped with rising and sliding front--a great convenience in architectural and many forms of landscape photography, and an automatic focusing lock is provided so that either can quickly be brought to focus at any-distance. While these models, of course, are designed for the use of our roll films, either can be loaded with plates at any time by the addition of a simple plate adapter or combination back (supplied extra). This is interchangeable with the regular back, is provided with ground glass for focusing and takes double plate holders. (See similar back illustrated on page 20.) Both cameras are handsomely finished throughout. Back and bed are of aluminum, metal parts are highly nickeled, and covering is of fine quality grain leather. [Illustration] In Detail For rectangular pictures. No. 3, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 inches; No. 4, 4 × 5 inches. Capacity, 12 exposures without reloading. Size of Kodak, No. 3, 1-3/4 × 4-1/2 × 7-1/2 inches: No. 4, 2-1/4 × 5-3/4 × 9 inches. Weight, No. 3, 23 ounces: No. 4, 2 pounds 11 ounces. Lens, double combination, rapid rectilinear, speed. _f._ 8, focal length. No. 3, 5 inches: No. 4, 6-3/4 inches. Shutter, Kodak Ball Bearing. (See page 6.) Rising and sliding front. Two tripod sockets. Brilliant reversible finder with hood. Automatic focusing lock. The Price No. 3 No. 4 F. P. Kodak., R. R. lens and Kodak Ball Bearing shutter $17.50 $20.00 Ditto, with Kodak Automatic shutter 22.50 25.00 Ditto, with Compound shutter, highest speed 1/200 second and Zeiss Kodak Anastigmat lens, _f._ 6.3 57.00 Kodak Autotime Scale (Style A for No. 3, Style AA for No. 4) 1.00 1.00 Black Sole Leather Case, with strap 1.75 2.00 Combination Back, with ground glass 3.50 3.50 Double Glass Plate Holders 1.00 1.00 N. C. Film Cartridge. 12 exposures (No. 118 for No. 3. No. 123 for No. 4) .70 .90 Ditto, 6 exposures .35 .45 Ditto, "double-two" cartridge, 4 exposures .25 .30 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 .50 No. 3A Folding Pocket Kodak The best thought of our manufacturing organization has been put into presenting in this model a moderate priced camera for general amateur photography that is the embodiment of skill and painstaking care. [Illustration] It has in fact come to be recognized as the standard in hand cameras, and every suitable improvement made, or new idea evolved in the years in which it has been on the market, has been incorporated in its construction. The 3A Folding Pocket Kodak was the first camera made for 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 pictures--a size which has become the most popular of all amateur sizes. Its proportions are just right for post cards, it is unusually effective for landscapes and street scenes when used horizontally; while vertically, it is ideal for portraiture, whether full length or head and shoulders, when the camera is fitted with Kodak Portrait Attachment. The camera is fitted with tested R. R. lens, the Kodak Ball Bearing shutter, and rising and sliding front. And it is so simple that a beginner can make good pictures with it from the start. [Illustration: Showing Combination Back with Focusing Screen] Like the No. 3, this model will accommodate plates as well as films by the simple addition of a combination back, which is interchangeable with the regular back. This may be secured from any dealer, it is fitted with ground glass and takes double plate holders. This camera is covered with best quality of fine grain leather, and has nickeled fittings. [Illustration] In Detail For rectangular pictures, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 inches. Capacity, 10 exposures without reloading. Size of Kodak, 9-1/2 × 4-3/4 × 2 inches. Weight, 41 ounces. Lens, double combination, rapid rectilinear, speed, _f._ 8, focal length, 6-3/4 inches. Shutter, Kodak Ball Bearing. (See page 6.) Two tripod sockets. Brilliant reversible finder with hood. Automatic focusing lock. The Price No. 3A F. P. Kodak, R. R. lens, Kodak Ball Bearing shutter $20.00 Ditto, with Kodak Automatic shutter 25.00 Black Sole Leather Case, with strap 2.00 Kodak Automatic Scale (Style AA) 1.00 Combination Back 3.50 Double Glass Plate Holders, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2, each 1.00 N. C. Film Cartridge, 10 exposures, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 (No. 122) .70 Ditto, 6 exposures .40 Ditto, "double-two" cartridge, 4 exposures .30 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 No. 4A Folding Kodak For very large size pictures, we offer the No. 4A Folding Kodak--a camera which combines all the simple and convenient Kodak features in a very light and compact camera, considering the size of the pictures it makes. It is fully equipped for out-of-the-ordinary work, as well as for snap-shot and general amateur photography. [Illustration] One of its special features is its adaptability to home portraiture. Fitted with the Kodak Portrait Attachment, it will make bust portraits up to the full size of the film, as it may be operated as close as 3-1/2 feet to the subject. A plate adapter (extra) with focusing screen, interchangeable with the regular back, will permit the use of dry plates if desired. The shutter supplied with this model is a double valve automatic, which works not only for time and bulb exposures, but is also graduated in fractional parts of a second from 1/100 to 1. The lens is a Rapid Rectilinear of the same high quality as those supplied with the preceding Kodaks. The camera is equipped with rising and sliding front, rack and pinion for easy focusing, two tripod sockets and a very positive automatic standard clamp. The regular finder is a brilliant reversible, but when desired, a direct view finder can be furnished for specially quick snap-shot work with the camera held on a level with the eyes. Constructed with the same care and attention to detail as the preceding model, the No. 4A is just as simple to operate, and is finished in the same style, with seal grain covering and nickeled fittings. [Illustration] In Detail For rectangular pictures, 4-1/4 × 6-1/2 inches. Capacity, 6 exposures without reloading. Size of Kodak, 11×6-1/2×2-5/8 inches. Weight, 4 pounds 4 ounces. Lens, double combination, rapid rectilinear, speed, _f._ 8, focal length, 8-1/4 inches. Shutter, B. & L. Automatic. Rising and sliding front. Rack and pinion for focusing. Two tripod sockets. Brilliant reversible finder with hood. The Price No. 4A F. Kodak. R. R. lens. B. & L. Automatic shutter $35.00 Ditto, with Zeiss Kodak anastigmat lens, _f._ 6.3 67.00 Ditto, with Compound Shutter, highest speed 1/150 second 77.00 Kodak Autotime Scale for regular equipment (Style DDD) 1.00 Ditto, for Compound Shutter (Style HHH) 1.50 Black Sole Leather Case, with strap 2.50 Glass Plate Adapter, with ground glass 5.00 Double Glass Plate Holders, each 1.25 N. C. Film Cartridge, 6 exposures, 4-1/4 × 6-1/2 (No. 126) .65 Ditto, "double-two" cartridge, 4 exposures .45 Direct View Finder 2.00 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 Panoram Kodaks The Panoram Kodak does a special kind of work--a very desirable kind of work which cannot be done with a camera of any other type. As its name implies, it is constructed so as to take panoramic pictures of outdoor groups, landscapes, mountain views, and the like. For instance, in making a picture of an outdoor group of twelve or fifteen people, with an ordinary camera, they would have to be arranged in two or three rows to get good sized images, but with a Panoram they can be arranged in a semi-circle, at a given distance from the camera, and all appear in the picture in one row and of the proper relative size. Again, in making a landscape, the sweep of the Panoram lens will take in the complete view, while the scope of the ordinary camera could only permit a portion of it to be taken at one exposure. In addition to its use for making horizontal pictures, the camera may be as easily used in the vertical position, and decidedly unique pictures of high waterfalls, mountain peaks and such subjects can be secured. The lens is mounted on a pivot and when the exposure is to be made, by pressing a lever the lens automatically swings on this pivot from one side of the camera to the other, embracing an angle of over 100 degrees. At the same time, the shutter operates automatically with great precision, insuring even illumination throughout the exposure. There is no complication whatever in operation, the whole process is automatic; it's just as easy to make pictures with the Panoram as with any other Kodak. Those who already have other Kodaks or contemplate purchasing such, will find this a valuable addition to their photographic equipment for the making of out-of-the-ordinary pictures. Panoram Kodaks use the regular daylight loading N. C. Kodak film, they are carefully made, have genuine leather coverings and nickeled fittings. The No. 1 has a scope of 112 degrees, while the No. 4 embraces an angle of 142 degrees. Panoram Kodaks cannot be used successfully indoors. [Illustration] No. 1 Panoram Kodak In Detail For rectangular pictures, 2-1/4 × 7 inches. Capacity, 6 exposures without reloading. Size of Kodak, 3-3/8 × 4-3/8 × 7-3/8 inches. Weight, 24 ounces. Lens, specially selected as to quality and focal length. Shutter, Panoram. Two tripod sockets. Brilliant finder with hood. Uses No. 1 F. P. Kodak cartridges. The Price No. 1 Panoram Kodak $10.00 Black Sole Leather Carrying Case, with shoulder strap 2.50 N. C. Film Cartridge, 6 exposures, 2-1/4 × 7 (No. 105) .40 Ditto, 3 exposures .20 No. 4 Panoram Kodak In Detail For rectangular pictures, 3-1/2 × 12 inches. Capacity, 4 exposures without reloading. Size of Kodak, 4-3/4×5-5/8×10-1/8 inches. Weight. 2 pounds 14 ounces. Lens, specially selected as to quality and focal length. Shutter, Panoram. Two tripod sockets. Brilliant finder with hood. Uses No. 4 B. E. cartridges. The Price No. 4 Panoram Kodak $20.00 Black Sole Leather Carrying Case, with shoulder strap 3.00 N. C. Film Cartridge, 4 exposures, 3-1/2 × 12 (No. 103) .75 Ditto, 2 exposures .45 Nos. 1A and 3 Special Kodaks The Special Kodaks are made upon the idea of providing the very best possible in hand cameras. A fine anastigmat lens, made expressly for hand camera work, a high speed, accurate shutter, a complete operating equipment, and the best materials procurable, richly finished--these, moulded together by the most expert camera workmen in the world, leave nothing to be desired by the user, whether he be beginner or expert. [Illustration] Aside from the requirements of the focal plane specialist, there is no condition under which amateur pictures can be made, in which these cameras will not produce the best possible results. The Nos. 1A and 3 Specials are alike in every respect excepting in size--the No. 1A making 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 pictures and the No. 3 the larger 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 size. Each is fitted with the Zeiss Kodak Anastigmat lens working at a maximum opening of _f._ 6.3, and with the Compound shutter attaining a speed of 1/250 second. The fast lenses give the Specials a great advantage over the ordinary camera in dull lights, and in combination with the Compound shutter, make them second only to cameras having focal plane shutters for photographing rapidly moving objects. They have rising and sliding fronts, reversible finders, rack and pinion for focusing, spirit levels, in fact every useful convenience that can be put into a hand camera. The No. 3 size will take plates by addition of a combination back (supplied extra). Made as the last word in photographic perfection, these cameras are beautifully finished. Covered with genuine Persian Morocco, with rich black leather bellows and nickeled fittings, they bear the impress of the quality that is in them. [Illustration] In Detail Size of Kodak. No. 1A, 2×3-3/4×8 inches; No. 3, 1-7/8×4-1/2×8 inches. Weight, No. 1A, 30 ounces; No. 3, 32 ounces. Lens, Zeiss Kodak anastigmat, speed, _f._ 6.3, focal length. No. 1A, 5 inches; No. 3, 5 inches. Shutter, Compound. (See page 7.) Two tripod sockets. Brilliant reversible finder, with hood. Spirit level. Rack and pinion for focusing. The Price No. 1A No. 3 2-1/2×4-1/4 3-1/4×4-1/4 Special Kodak, Zeiss Kodak anastigmat lens, _f._ 6.3, and Compound Shutter $46.00 $48.00 Ditto, with Cooke Series IIIa, _f._ 6.5 lens 56.50 58.50 Ditto, with B. & L. Zeiss Tessar Series IIb lens, _f._ 6.3 56.50 58.50 Kodak Autotime Scale (Style H) 1.50 1.50 Grain Leather, Velvet Lined Case, with strap 3.00 3.00 Combination Back 4.00 Double Glass Plate Holders, each 1.00 N. C. Film Cartridge, 12 exposures (No. 116 for No. 1A, No. 118 for No. 3) .50 .70 Ditto, 6 exposures .25 .35 Ditto, "double-two" cartridge, 4 exposures .25 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 No. 3A Special Kodak To combine in one instrument every feature that could add to practical efficiency and yet retain the pocket Kodak convenience and simplicity was the work that we set for ourselves in designing the 3A Special Kodak. In no respect did we fall short of that work. In this camera no essential to good picture making is omitted, yet it has no unnecessary "contraptions" to annoy and befog the beginner. It is recognized as the highest type of hand camera for the amateur--skilled or unskilled. [Illustration] The 3A Special Kodak is equipped with the Zeiss Kodak Anastigmat lens, _f._ 6.3, the anastigmat made especially for hand camera work and combining speed, depth and definition in an unusual degree. The shutter is the Compound, operated by either cable or finger release and having a maximum speed of 1/200 second. With this equipment it is possible to get well-timed pictures, under light conditions that would be fatal to good results with the ordinary camera and in bright light to make successful exposures as short as 1/200 second. The 3A Special has a most complete equipment in keeping with the high grade of work for which it is designed. It has both rising and sliding front, reversible finder, rack and pinion for focusing, spirit level, double focusing scale--one for films and the other for plates. The camera body is made of aluminum, producing a very light, yet strong and durable, instrument. The finish and appointments are of the richest. The covering is genuine Persian Morocco, the bellows is of black selected leather, and these in connection with the highly nickeled fittings and dull black enameled shutter add that look of quality that is in harmony with its genuine efficiency and worth. [Illustration] In Detail Size of Kodak, 9-1/2 × 4-3/4 × 2 inches. Weight, 42 ounces. Lens, Zeiss Kodak anastigmat, speed, _f._ 6.3, focal length, 6-3/4 inches. Shutter, Compound, with cable release. (See page 7.) Two tripod sockets. Brilliant reversible finder, with hood. Spirit level. Rack and pinion for focusing. The Price No. 3A Special Kodak, Zeiss Kodak anastigmat lens. _f._ 6.3 and Compound shutter $60.00 Ditto, with Cooke Series IIIa _f._ 6.5 lens 66.50 Ditto, with B. & L. Zeiss Tessar Series IIb lens, _f._ 6.3 71.00 Kodak Autotime Scale (Style HH) 1.50 Grain Leather, Velvet Lined Case, with strap 3.50 Combination Back 4.00 Double Glass Plate Holders, each 1.00 N. C. Film Cartridge, 10 exposures (No. 122) .70 Ditto, 6 exposures .40 Ditto, "double-two" cartridge, 4 exposures .30 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 _Six-Three_ Kodaks [Illustration] From the time that the Kodak catalogue appeared last year, containing the first announcement of the _Six-Three_ Kodaks, it was evident that these cameras were to score a great success. The demand for them grew, as it were, over night, and has steadily kept up ever since. This is a natural enough condition, when it is considered that _Six-Three_ Kodaks provide those who want the anastigmat advantages of definition, flatness of field, and speed, at the minimum of expense, with suitably equipped and fully reliable cameras. To produce such cameras we have taken the regular Folding Pocket Kodak models and replaced the R. R. lens and Ball Bearing shutter equipments with the Compound shutter with cable release and the Cooke Kodak anastigmat lens. This lens is an anastigmat of first quality, fully corrected and working at a maximum speed of _f._ 6.3. For other details on any _Six-Three_ Kodak, merely refer to the detailed specifications of the corresponding regular model. The Price _Six-Three_ Kodak No. 1A, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4, Cooke Kodak anastigmat lens, _f._ 6.3, and Compound shutter, highest speed 1/250 second $37.00 _Six-Three_ Kodak No. 3, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4, Cooke Kodak anastigmat lens, _f._ 6.3, and Compound shutter, highest speed 1/250 second 39.00 _Six-Three_ Kodak No. 3A, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2, Cooke Kodak anastigmat lens, _f._ 6.3, and Compound shutter, highest speed 1/250 second 48.00 Kodak Autotime Scale (Style H for Nos. 1A and 3, Style HH for No. 3A) 1.50 For prices on carrying cases, films, etc., see price list of corresponding regular models. No. 1 Brownie [Illustration] This, the first of the Brownies, is really responsible for the entire line of these popular cameras. Originally produced as a camera particularly for the children, the No. 1 Brownie made such good pictures in their hands as to excite the interest of grown-up people, and the success obtained by its use created a demand for similar inexpensive cameras for pictures of larger size. The No. 1 Brownie is exceedingly simple to operate and each camera has to undergo the regular Kodak inspection, before being sent out. The scope of view is ordinarily located by V-shaped lines at the top, but if preferred the Brownie finder (detachable) illustrated below, can be fitted at an extra charge of 25 cents. Has automatic shutter for time or snap-shot exposures, and will make good portraits when fitted with Kodak Portrait Attachment. In Detail For square pictures, 2-1/4 × 2-1/4 inches. Capacity, 6 exposures without reloading. Size of camera, 4-7/8 × 3-1/8 × 3 inches. Weight, 8 ounces. Lens, meniscus, 3-3/4-inch focus. Shutter, Eastman Rotary, with one stop. The Price No. 1 Brownie Camera, meniscus lens. Eastman Rotary shutter $1.00 No. 1 Brownie Carrying Case, holds camera and finder .50 N. C. Film Cartridge, 6 exposures, 2-1/4 × 2-1/4 (No. 117) .15 Brownie Finder, detachable .25 No. 1 Brownie Developing and Printing Outfit, including paper for 24 prints .90 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 [Illustration] Nos. 2 and 2A Brownies [Illustration] Simple, sturdy, reliable, these inexpensive little cameras have stood the test of years, and will be found in the hands of many thousands of people all over the world, who are making perfectly satisfactory pictures with them. They are especial favorites with the children on account of their great simplicity, but they are withal so practical that they have been readily taken up by grown-up people who wish to make pictures in the easiest possible manner and at the minimum of expense. Each has two finders, automatic shutter, carefully tested lens, and imitation leather covering. They differ from each other only in the size of the pictures they make and in their lenses. In Detail For rectangular pictures, No. 2, 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 inches; No. 2A, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 inches. Capacity, No. 2, 6 exposures without reloading; No. 2A, 12 exposures without reloading. Size of camera, No. 2, 5-5/8 × 4 × 3-1/4 inches; No. 2A, 3-7/16 × 5-1/8 × 6-1/8 inches. Weight, No. 2, 13 ounces; No. 2A, 21 ounces. Lens, No. 2, meniscus; No. 2A, meniscus achromatic. Shutter, Eastman Rotary, with three stops. Two finders. The Price No. 2 No. 2A No. 2 Brownie Camera, meniscus lens, Eastman Rotary shutter $2.00 No. 2A Brownie Camera, meniscus achromatic lens, Eastman Rotary shutter $3.00 Brownie Carrying Case, with shoulder strap .75 .75 N. C. Film Cartridge, 12 exposures (No. 116) .50 N. C. Film Cartridge, 6 exposures, (No. 120 for No. 2. No. 116 for No. 2A) .20 .25 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 .50 A B C Developing and Printing Outfit (see page 46) 1.50 1.50 No. 3 Brownie [Illustration] For those who want larger pictures, the No. 3 Brownie offers the same simplicity, the same reliability and the same proportionately low cost, in a camera for 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 pictures, as do the smaller Brownies. This camera is capable of producing excellent pictures in the hands of the young or the old, and its negatives are of such quality as to yield very good enlargements by use of the inexpensive Brownie Enlarging Camera. In fact, this is a feature of all Brownies. By the addition of a Kodak Portrait Attachment this instrument can be used with excellent success in home portraiture. The No. 3 Brownie is well made in every respect. It has durable imitation leather covering, metal parts are nickeled and it offers the daylight-all-the-way feature of the Kodaks. In Detail For rectangular pictures, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 inches. Capacity, 12 exposures without reloading. Size of camera, 6-1/8 × 4-3/8 × 5-1/8 inches. Weight, 24 ounces. Lens, meniscus achromatic, 5-inch focus. Shutter, Eastman Rotary, with three stops. Two tripod sockets. Two finders. The Price No. 3 Brownie Camera, meniscus achromatic lens, Eastman Rotary shutter $4.00 No. 3 Brownie Carrying Case, with shoulder strap 1.00 N. C. Film Cartridge, 12 exposures, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 (No. 124) .70 Ditto, 6 exposures .35 Ditto, "double-two" cartridge, 4 exposures .25 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 No. 2 Folding Pocket Brownie [Illustration] The folding Brownies are made upon the same idea of simplicity and low cost as the box forms. They are so closely related to the Kodaks--offering, as they do, the daylight-all-the-way feature and made in the Kodak factories, by Kodak workmen--that they well deserve the name "little cousins of the Kodaks." The No. 2 is a very dainty little camera which will slip readily into an ordinary pocket, and make excellent pictures the all-by-daylight-way. It is fitted with our Pocket Automatic shutter working for time, bulb and snap-shot exposures, in which is mounted an excellent meniscus lens. Fitted with Kodak Portrait Attachment, this becomes a good camera for home portraiture, and the negatives which it makes will yield excellent 5 × 7 enlargements by use of the Brownie Enlarging Camera. The camera is carefully finished throughout, it has imitation leather covering and nickeled fittings. In Detail For rectangular pictures, 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 inches. Capacity, 6 exposures without reloading. Size of camera, 6-7/8 × 3-5/8 × 2-1/8 inches. Weight, 16 ounces. Lens, meniscus, 4-1/2-inch focus. Shutter, Pocket Automatic. (See page 6.) Two tripod sockets. Automatic focusing lock. Reversible finder. The Price No. 2 Folding Pocket Brownie, meniscus lens, Pocket Automatic shutter $5.00 No. 2 Folding Pocket Brownie Carrying Case .75 N. C. Film Cartridge, 6 exposures, 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 (No. 120) .20 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 No. 2A Folding Pocket Brownie [Illustration] The pleasing proportions of the pictures taken by this little Brownie, combined with its simple operation and reliability, have made it one of the most popular cameras of the whole Brownie line. For effective landscape composition and full and three-quarter length portraits, the shape of its pictures is ideal. And when fitted with Kodak Portrait Attachment, it may be operated close up to the subject for bust portraits. Identical in construction and general design with the No. 2, this model can as easily be carried in the pocket, works for time, bulb and instantaneous exposures, and is well finished throughout. Attractively covered with best imitation leather, and metal parts are highly nickeled. In Detail For rectangular pictures, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 inches. Capacity, 12 exposures without reloading. Size of camera, 8-1/2 × 2 × 3-5/8 inches. Weight, 23 ounces. Lens, meniscus achromatic, 5-inch focus. Shutter, Pocket Automatic. Two tripod sockets. Automatic focusing lock. Reversible finder. The Price No. 2A Folding Pocket Brownie, meniscus achromatic lens, Pocket Automatic shutter $7.00 No. 2A Folding Pocket Brownie Carrying Case .90 N. C. Film Cartridge, 12 exposures, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 inches (No. 116) .50 Ditto, 6 exposures .25 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 No. 3 Folding Brownie [Illustration] Always an efficient camera, the capabilities of the No. 3 Folding Brownie have been still further increased by the addition of the Brownie Ball Bearing shutter. This shutter, made upon the same principle as the Kodak Ball Bearing, with its star-shaped opening and smooth, accurate action, makes the camera especially effective for snap-shot work. No. 3 Folding Brownies are well made, dependable cameras in every respect, they have the simplicity and daylight-all-the-way feature of their big cousins, the Kodaks, and offer the choice of either double or single lens equipment. Illustration shows camera with single lens. In Detail For rectangular pictures, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 inches. Capacity, 12 exposures without reloading. Size of camera, 8-3/8 × 4-5/8 × 2-5/8 inches. Weight, 25 ounces. Lens, meniscus achromatic, 5-inch focus. Shutter, Brownie Ball Bearing. (See page 7.) Automatic focusing lock. Two tripod sockets. Reversible finder. The Price No. 3 Folding Brownie Camera, meniscus achromatic lens. Brownie Ball Bearing shutter $ 9.00 Ditto, with R. R. lens and Brownie Ball Bearing shutter 11.00 No. 3 Folding Brownie Carrying Case 1.00 N. C. Film Cartridge, 12 exposures, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 (No. 124) .70 Ditto, 6 exposures .35 Ditto, "double-two" cartridge, 4 exposures .25 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 No. 3A Folding Brownie [Illustration] Like the No. 3, the efficiency of this model has been greatly augmented by addition of the Brownie Ball Bearing shutter. It offers the choice of either single or double lens, and working with the usual Brownie simplicity, it makes a highly effective camera, for the popular 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 pictures, at low cost. This camera will produce extremely good results in general amateur photography, under ordinarily favorable conditions, and when fitted with Kodak Portrait Attachment, becomes a most dependable outfit for home portraiture. It is covered with durable imitation leather, has nickeled fittings and a neat, attractive appearance. Illustration shows camera with double lens. In Detail For rectangular pictures, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 inches. Capacity, 10 exposures without reloading. Size of camera, 2-5/8 × 4-5/8 × 9-7/8 inches. Weight, 34 ounces. Lens, meniscus achromatic, 6-1/2-inch focus. Shutter, Brownie Ball Bearing. (See page 7.) Automatic focusing lock. Two tripod sockets. Reversible finder. The Price No. 3A Folding Brownie Camera, meniscus achromatic lens, Brownie Ball Bearing shutter $10.00 Ditto, with R. R. lens and Brownie Ball Bearing shutter 12.00 No. 3A Folding Brownie Carrying Case 1.00 N. C. Film Cartridge, 10 exposures (No. 122) .70 Ditto, 6 exposures .40 Ditto, "double-two" cartridge, 4 exposures .30 Kodak Portrait Attachment .50 Brownie Enlarging Camera The average amateur usually thinks of enlarging as an intricate, expensive process, requiring considerable skill and experience. But such is not the fact. Even a youngster can make first-rate enlargements with a Brownie Enlarging Camera. It's just as easy as printing on Velox paper. In fact the two processes are very much the same, excepting that in printing, the negative and paper are in close contact, while in enlarging, the paper is at some distance from the negative, with a lens in between. [Illustration] As shown in the illustration, the Brownie Enlarging Camera is simplicity itself. It's just a light-tight cone with an attachment at the small end to hold the negative, and another at the large end for the paper. Provision is made inside for holding the lens. To make an enlargement, one merely places the negative and paper in place, holds the negative end up to the light for a specified time and then develops the paper as usual. One of these inexpensive outfits will enable you to make enlargements at any time from your favorite negatives. The cameras are collapsible, so that they fold flat and may be conveniently carried in a suit case. The Price No. 2. Brownie Enlarging Camera, for 5 × 7 enlargements from 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 negatives $2.00 No. 3. Ditto, for 6-1/2 × 8-1/2 enlargements from 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 negatives 3.00 No. 4. Ditto, for 8 × 10 enlargements from 4 × 5 negatives (will also take 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 negatives) 4.00 V. P. Kodak Enlarging Camera This is made upon exactly the same principle as the Brownie Enlarging Camera, excepting that being small in itself, it is not made collapsible. It offers the simplest means for making 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 enlargements from 1-5/8 × 2-1/2 negatives. The Price Vest Pocket Kodak Enlarging Camera $1.75 Brownie Enlarging Camera Illuminator [Illustration] In enlarging with the Brownie or Vest Pocket Kodak Enlarging Camera, the exposure may be made by daylight, but to accommodate those who wish to do their enlarging at night or who prefer to use artificial light at all times we have devised the Brownie Enlarging Camera Illuminator, which assures the user a uniformly strong, even light, day or night. It is simply constructed, and moderate in price. The illuminator is collapsible, but when set up, has the form of a half-round, light-proof box with socket through which is inserted an electric light bulb. The inner walls of this box are white and act as a reflector when the light is turned on. At the end is a ground glass, which diffuses the light, so that by placing negative end of the enlarging camera in contact with this glass and turning on the electricity, an excellent steady printing light is obtained. The glass is provided with a hinged protector of ruby cloth, which may be closed as soon as the exposure is completed, and the illuminator then becomes a perfect lamp for the developing and subsequent operations with the enlargement. Complete instructions for use are included with each outfit, and anyone who has electric light in the house will find it invaluable for enlarging purposes. Brownie Enlarging Camera Illuminator, $3.50. The Kodiopticon [Illustration] The Kodiopticon opens a new use--a new pleasure in his negatives, for the amateur photographer. For it enables anyone who has electricity in his house, to show sharp, well-illuminated lantern slide projections without difficulty and at small expense. The Kodiopticon is substantially made, and operated with an ordinary Mazda electric lamp, at a distance of 10 feet from the sheet, will project images of about 36 inches. A larger image may be secured by setting the Kodiopticon a greater distance away, but the greater the distance the less the illumination. Can also be furnished with an electric arc lamp, when it can be used at 12 feet, with the maximum illumination, projecting an image of about 42 inches. The Kodiopticon has a water jacket for protection of the slides from heat, and the price includes a strong wooden case, which, by reversing the top, serves as a permanent stand for the outfit. The Price Kodiopticon, complete with Mazda Lamp $25.00 Ditto, with Hand-feed Arc Lamp and 4 ampere Rheostat, accommodating 110 volts 40.00 Ditto, accommodating 220 volts 42.00 100 Watt Mazda (Tungsten) Lamp, Concentrated Filament 3.50 Eastman Portable Background Carrier 3.00 Eastman Portable Background, plain, 4 × 5 feet 1.50 Lantern Slide Plates, 3-1/4 × 4, per dozen .45 Lantern Slide Cover Glass, per dozen .20 Lantern Slide Binders, per package 50 strips .10 Velox Lantern Slide Films, 2-3/4 × 3-1/4, per dozen .30 Velox Lantern Slide Frames, per dozen .25 Velox Lantern Slide Mats, 2-7/8 × 3-5/16, per 2 dozen .05 Nepera Solution, for developing Velox L. S. Films, 4-ounce bottle .20 Lantern Slide Film Varnish, 4-ounce bottle .25 Velox Transparent Water Color Stamps [Illustration] An interesting and highly enjoyable diversion for the amateur photographer is the coloring of prints. And those who use the Kodiopticon will find that many slides are greatly improved by the addition of color. While actual color photography is by no means practical for general amateur use, anyone can make beautifully colored prints by the use of Velox Transparent Water Color Stamps. No special artistic skill, no knowledge of painting whatever is necessary. Just a brush or two and the book of stamps, which includes simple directions for coloring both prints and lantern slides. Each book includes twelve sheets of colors and each sheet is divided by perforations into twenty-two stamps. To use any color merely tear off a stamp, place in a small saucer or palette supplied with the outfit, and cover with about a teaspoonful of water. The Velox Transparent Water Color Stamp Outfit offers the greatest convenience in coloring prints, as it includes the book of stamps, three brushes and a white enameled mixing palette, put up in a neat cardboard case. Velox Transparent Water Color Stamps, complete booklet, 12 colors $0.25 Separate Color Leaves, two sheets .05 Set of 3 Special Brushes, per set .50 Mixing Palette .25 Velox Transparent Water Color Stamp Outfit, including book, three brushes and palette .75 Kodak Film Tank [Illustration] Development, that former bugbear of the amateur photographer and especially of the beginner, is made a simple proposition by the Kodak Film Tank--fully as simple as any part of the photographic process. The Kodak Film Tank automatically develops every roll of film put into it, just as well as that roll of film could be developed by the most experienced photographer. If directions are followed, if the chemicals are mixed and the temperature regulated according to instructions, a boy or girl can get just as good results from the Kodak Film Tank as an expert by any method. In other words, every roll of film put into the film tank, where the simple directions are implicitly followed, will come out developed as well, or better, than that roll of film could be developed in the dark room by the most experienced photographer. And it is very simple, it eliminates the dark room entirely, developing the film in broad daylight, and is so compact as to be easily carried and used anywhere. The Kodak Film Tank consists of a winding box, a light-proof apron, and a heavily nickeled brass solution cup with cover. In the Brownie Film Tank, however, no cover is necessary as the film roll itself is turned. All articles can be packed in the box, making the entire outfit self-contained. The film to be developed is placed upon a reel in the winding box, the cover is placed on the box and the film is wound around an axis in combination with the apron, in such fashion that, when completely wound, the apron protects the film effectually from light, and may be removed from the winding box safely at any time. It is then lowered into the cup of developer, the cover attached and the film left to develop for twenty minutes. After development the film is removed for fixing. Every step is performed in daylight and the exact time necessary for development, in combination with the chemical formula, has been scientifically worked out, so that all differences of exposure within reasonable bounds are taken care of. Especial attention is called to the new 2-1/2-inch size, for the development of 1A or 2A films. Those who wish to develop more than one roll at a time can do so without purchasing extra tanks complete, by securing duplicating outfits as listed below. The Price Brownie Kodak Film Tank, for use with No. 1, No. 2 and No. 2 Folding Pocket Brownie Cartridges, complete $2.50 Vest Pocket Kodak Film Tank, for Vest Pocket Cartridges, complete 2.50 2-1/2-inch Kodak Film Tank, for use with all Kodak or Brownie cartridges having a film width of 2-1/2 inches or less, complete 3.50 3-1/2-inch Kodak Film Tank, for use with all Kodak and Brownie cartridges having a film width of 3-1/2 inches or less, complete 5.00 5-inch Kodak Film Tank, for use with all Kodak and Brownie cartridges having a film width of 5 inches or less, complete 6.00 7-inch Kodak Film Tank, for use with No. 5 Cartridge Kodak or shorter film cartridges, complete 7.50 Duplicating Outfit, consisting of one solution cup, one transferring reel, and one apron, for Brownie Kodak Film Tank 1.25 Ditto, for Vest Pocket Film Tank 1.25 Ditto, for 2-1/2-inch Kodak Film Tank 1.75 Ditto, for 3-1/2-inch Kodak Film Tank 2.50 Ditto, for 5-inch Kodak Film Tank 3.00 Ditto, for 7-inch Kodak Film Tank 3.75 Kodak Tank Developer Powders for Brownie Kodak Film Tank, per package, 1/2 dozen .15 Ditto, for Vest Pocket Tank .15 Ditto, for 2-1/2-inch tank, per package, 1/2 dozen .20 Ditto, for 3-1/2-inch tank, per package, 1/2 dozen .20 Ditto, for 5-inch tank, per package, 1/2 dozen .25 Ditto, for 7-inch tank, per package, 1/2 dozen .25 Kodak Acid Fixing Powder, per 1/4-pound package .10 Ditto, per 1/2-pound package .15 Ditto, per 1-pound package .25 No. 2 Brownie Developing Box [Illustration] Offering the same assurance of perfectly developed film as the Kodak Film Tank, the Brownie Developing Box is a modified form of the same, so simple to use that any boy or girl can readily understand and operate it. It consists of a metal box with cover, just long enough to accommodate a roll of No. 1 or No. 2 Brownie Film in one loop. To develop, the roll of film is inserted in the spool carrier, and by means of a cord and winding shaft the film is unrolled and carried around a roller bearing, thus exposing the film to the action of the developer. Before unrolling the film the developer is poured in the box and the cover put in place; all these operations being performed in daylight. The film is then unrolled by turning the crank, when the box is rocked on its standard for six minutes. The developer is then poured off and box filled with water to wash out developer, after which film is removed and fixed in daylight. This is an excellent means, for those who have No. 1 or No. 2 Brownie Cameras, of developing their films without the need of skill or experience. The Price No. 2 Brownie Developing Box $1.00 Brownie Developing Box Powders, per package of 6 .15 Kodak Acid Fixing Powders, 1/2-pound package .15 Ditto, 1/4-pound package .10 Eastman Plate Tank [Illustration] What the film tank has done for films, the plate tank does for plates. The idea of the two tanks is based upon the same time and temperature system of development, with, of course, such differences in actual construction of the tanks as are required by the physical differences between films and plates. And as plates must be unloaded in a dark room, the plate tank cannot offer the advantage of daylight quite all the way, but it takes only a few moments in the dark room to load this tank, after which it may be brought out into any light for development. The device consists of a metal solution cup with cover, a cage for holding 12 or less plates, and a loading fixture for loading the plates in the cage. The exposed plates are loaded into the cage and placed in the tank, which has been filled with developer, in the dark room and the tank cover fastened in place. On the front of the tank is a dial for registering time. Development is allowed to continue for fifteen minutes, the tank being reversed several times. After development the developer is washed out of the plates, and the fixing bath poured into the tank, after which the plates are ready for washing in the usual manner. The Price Eastman Plate Tank, for 4 × 5, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2, and smaller plates, includes solution cup, plate cage, loading fixture and adjustable kit $3.50 Ditto, 5 × 7, without kit 4.50 Adjustable Kit, for 4 × 5 or 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 tank, to take smaller plates .50 Separate Kits, for 5 × 7 tank, to take 3-1/4 × 5-1/2, 4-1/4 × 6-1/2 or 4-3/4 × 6-1/2 plates, each .75 Metal Insert, for 5 × 7 tank, to take 4 × 5 plates .10 Eastman Plate Tank Developer Powders, for 4 × 5 tank, per package, 1/2 dozen .20 Ditto, for 5 × 7 tank, per package, 1/2 dozen .35 Kodak Acid Fixing Powder, per 1 pound package .25 Ditto, per 1/2-pound package .15 Developing and Printing Outfits [Illustration] The Eastman 3A Outfit contains every requisite for finishing twenty-four 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 or smaller pictures, and by combining a variety of different articles and making up the outfits in large quantities, we furnish them at a much lower price than if the articles were purchased separately. One Kodak Candle Lamp $0.25 One Printing Frame .25 One Glass for Frame .05 One 4-ounce Graduate .10 One Stirring Rod .05 Four Developing Trays .40 Five tubes Eastman Special Developer .25 One half pound Kodak Acid Fixing Powder .15 One Package Potassium Bromide .05 Two dozen 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 Velox Paper .30 Three Eastman Metol Quinol Powders, for developing Velox .15 Instruction Book .10 ----- $2.10 Eastman 3A Outfit, complete, neatly packed, $1.50. EASTMAN A B C OUTFIT, similar to above but providing for 4 × 5 or smaller pictures $1.50 BROWNIE Developing and Printing Outfit, complete, for developing and printing 24 pictures 2-1/4 × 2-1/4. Price, complete .90 _Note_--These outfits cannot be shipped by mail. The Kodak Box No. 2 [Illustration] The Kodak box No. 2 contains everything for picture making by the daylight method. No dark room is necessary, and even the beginner can get good results by following the simple, explicit directions contained in the instruction book. This outfit is simple enough for boys and girls, while at the same time it will make pictures which will please the grown-up people. The Price One No. 2 Brownie Camera, 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 $2.00 One No. 2 Brownie Developing Box 1.00 One Roll No. 2 Brownie Film, 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 .20 Two Brownie Developing Box Powders .05 One 1/2-pound package Kodak Acid Fixing Powder .15 One 4-ounce Graduate .10 One Stirring Rod .05 One No. 2 Brownie Printing Frame .15 One Package (1 dozen) 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 Brownie Velox .10 Two Eastman Metol Quinol Developer Powders .10 Three Paper Developing Trays .30 One Dozen 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 Mounts .10 One Dozen 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 Kodak Dry Mounting Tissue .05 One Instruction Book .10 ----- $4.45 Price, complete, neatly packed, $4.00. Kodak Portrait Attachment There is no greater pleasure in photography than Home Portraiture, and this little attachment, fitted to a Kodak or Brownie Camera, will enable one to work up close to the subject and thereby secure bust portraits of excellent quality limited in size, with the focusing Kodaks, only by the dimensions of the film. The attachments are simply extra lenses, which slip on in front of the regular lens, and they in no way affect the operation of the instrument, excepting to make the lens cut sharp at short distances. [Illustration] These attachments are not only serviceable for portraiture but also for photographing any small object, such as flowers, fruits, still life composition, at close range. Please order by number, or if required for older models or cameras with special equipments specify shutter and size of camera. [Illustration: Made with Kodak and Kodak Portrait Attachment] The Price No. 1. For No. 2 Brownie, No. 2 and No. 2A F. P. Brownie, Vest Pocket and No. 1 and No. 1A F. P. K. $0.50 No. 2. For No. 2A Brownie .50 No. 3. For No. 1A Kodak Junior, both single and double lens; No. 1A F. P. K., R. R. Type; No. 3 F. P. K., No. 3 Folding Brownie .50 No. 4. For No. 2 and No. 3 Bull's-Eye, No. 3 Brownie .50 No. 5. For Nos. 3A, 4 and 4A Folding Kodaks and No. 3A Folding Brownie .50 No. 6. For No. 3 Special and _Six-Three_ and 1A Special and _Six-Three_ Kodaks .50 No. 7. For No. 3A Special and _Six-Three_ Kodaks .50 No. 8. For No. 1 Kodak Junior, both single and double lens, and Vest Pocket Kodak Special .50 No. 9. For No. 3 F. P. K. with Kodak Automatic shutter .50 No. 10. For No. 1 Brownie .50 Kodak Color Screens These screens are of great value in outdoor photography, and for all subjects embracing colors which act weakly on the sensitive film, as they hold back the strong blue and violet rays, affording the weaker colors time to record. The Kodak Color Screens are mounted in the same manner as the Kodak Portrait Attachment. The Price No. 1. For Vest Pocket, Nos. 1 and 1A Folding Pocket Kodaks, Nos. 2 and 2A Folding Pocket Brownies $0.50 No. 2. For No. 2A Brownie .50 No. 3. For No. 1A Kodak Junior, both single and double lens; Nos. 2 and 3 Folding Pocket Kodaks; No. 1A F. P. Kodak, R. R. Type; and No. 3 Folding Brownie .75 No. 4. For Nos. 2 and 3 Bull's-Eye and No. 3 Brownie .75 No. 5. For Nos. 3A, 4 and 4 A Kodaks. No. 3A Folding Brownie 1.00 No. 6. For Nos. 1A Special and _Six-Three_ Kodaks and 3 Special and _Six-Three_ Kodaks .75 No. 7. For No. 3A Special and _Six-Three_ Kodaks 1.00 No. 8. For No. 1 Kodak Junior, both single and double lens, and Vest Pocket Kodak Special .50 No. 9. For No. 3 F. P. K. with Kodak Automatic shutter .50 Kodak Wide Angle Lenses These lenses have a speed of _f._ 16 and are interchangeable with the lenses furnished with the Nos. 3A and 4 Folding Pocket Kodaks, and the No. 4A Folding Kodak. With each one we furnish a leather case and a graduated focusing scale for the camera bed. In ordering a Kodak wide angle lens, give size (No.) of Kodak and be sure to specify the shutter that the lens is to be used with. The Price No. 4. (4 × 5) Kodak Wide Angle Lens, equivalent focus, 4 1/2 inches $5.00 (Also adapted to 3A Kodak.) No. 5. (5 × 7) Kodak Wide Angle Lens, equivalent focus, 5 1/2 inches 7.50 (Also adapted to 4A Kodak.) Kodak Tripods Metal Tripods [Illustration] These tripods have the qualities that make for service as well as good appearance. Light and very compact, they are yet rigid when extended because of their special construction. The principle is that of a telescope, each section sliding into the one above it, till the whole length is reduced to a single section and the sections are securely fastened to one another. Nos. 380, 390, 400 and 410 fold up flat, the first three being supplied in neat cases. Nos. 400 and 410 have the additional advantage of being fitted with a patent top, which provides a broad firm table for supporting the camera, but folds to the side when tripod is not in use. Upper or outer sections are all black enameled, lower section brass. No. 320. 5 sections, length closed 14-1/2 inches $3.00 No. 330. 7 sections, length closed 11-3/4 inches 3.75 No. 340. 4 sections, length closed 15-1/2 inches 2.50 No. 380. 7 sections, length closed 11-3/4 inches 6.25 No. 390. 7 sections, length closed 11-1/2 inches 5.00 No. 400. 7 sections, length closed 12 inches 6.50 No. 410. 4 sections, length closed 16 inches 3.25 Adjustable Heads (extra) fitted with ball and socket joint, suitable for any of above Tripods. No. 300 $1.00 No. 305 1.50 No. 310 1.75 The Eastman [Illustration] Three sections. No. 1, maple, for cameras up to 6-1/2 × 8-1/2. Price, $2.25. The Bull's-Eye [Illustration] Two sections. Aluminum revolving head. Made of maple, with brass fittings. For 4 × 5 cameras, or smaller. Length, extended, 42-1/2 inches; folded 24 inches. The only two-section tripod that will go in a suitcase. Price, $1.50. The Standard [Illustration] The feature of this tripod is the automatic locking of the sections when they are extended. Light, compact and rigid. Fixed, non-detachable head. Length, folded. 21 inches; extended, 53-1/2 inches. Weight, 18 ounces. Cherry finish, brass trimmings. Price, $1.75. The Flexo [Illustration] Two sections. Fixed, non-detachable head. Only clear, straight-grained wood is used in its construction. Price, $1.00. Folding Pocket Kodak Tripod Adapter No. 1. [Illustration] A simple and effective device for holding either the No. 1 or No. 1A Folding Pocket Kodak on a tripod in either horizontal or vertical position. Kodak may be reversed without removing from the adapter. F. P. K. Tripod Adapter No. 1 $0.75 Velox Paper Velox is the very best paper for amateur use for it is simple to use, thoroughly dependable and is made in a variety of grades and surfaces to fit all sorts of amateur negatives. It prints in any light, requires no dark room and permits the amateur to utilize his evening hours in print making. Its simplicity of manipulation and extreme gradation make it suitable for photographic work of every kind. Velox is divided broadly into two kinds of paper called "Regular" and "Special" (hard and soft) each division containing a variety of surfaces. "Regular" papers develop quickly and are best suited for negatives lacking contrast. "Special" papers develop slowly, and give soft effects from hard negatives. Use "Special" Velox for negatives producing good results on "Printing Out" paper (such as Solio), and "Regular" only with very flat negatives (negatives lacking contrast). Velox surfaces: In the "Regular" class are carbon (matte surface), Glossy, Glossy double weight, Velvet, and Velvet double weight. "Regular" Velvet Velox is semi-gloss and gives prints of exceptional beauty. This paper will give satisfactory results from very flat negatives. In the "Special" class, the surfaces are Carbon (matte surface), Portrait (smooth matte), Portrait double weight, Rough, Glossy, Glossy double weight, Velvet, and Velvet double weight. "Special" Velvet Velox has a greater range than any of the other "Special" papers. Royal Velox is coated on a soft, mellow-tinted stock, which when re-developed affords all the soft delicacy of a rare old etching. It is made in two grades, "Regular" and "Special" and one surface, just rough enough to produce the desired effect. The Price --------------------------------------------------------------- | Single Weight | Double Weight Size |---------------------|--------------------- |Dozen|1/2 Gross|Gross|Dozen|1/2 Gross|Gross -------------------|-----|---------|-----|-----|---------|----- 1-5/8 × 2-1/2 |$0.15| $0.60 |$1.00|$0.20| $0.75 |$1.25 | | | | | | 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 | .15| .60 | 1.00| .20| .75 | 1.25 | | | | | | 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 | .15| .70 | 1.25| .20| .90 | 1.55 | | | | | | 3-1/2 × 3-1/2 | .15| .80 | 1.50| .20| 1.00 | 1.90 | | | | | | 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 | .15| .80 | 1.50| .20| 1.00 | 1.90 | | | | | | 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 | .15| .80 | 1.50| .20| 1.00 | 1.90 | | | | | | 4 × 5 | .25| 1.10 | 2.00| .30| 1.40 | 2.50 | | | | | | *3-1/4 × 6(Stereo)| .25| 1.10 | 2.00| | | | | | | | | **3-3/8 × 6-1/2 | .25| 1.10 | 2.00| | | | | | | | | 2-1/4 × 7 | .15| .80 | 1.50| .20| 1.00 | 1.90 | | | | | | 4-1/2 × 6-1/2 | .30| 1.65 | 2.80| .40| 2.05 | 3.50 | | | | | | 5 × 7 | .35| 2.00 | 3.50| .45| 2.50 | 4.40 | | | | | | 3-1/2 × 12 | .45| 2.50 | 4.50| .55| 3.15 | 5.65 | | | | | | Velox Post-cards, 3-1/2 × 5-1/2, | | | furnished in Regular Velvet, Special | | | Velvet, Special Portrait, Regular Glossy,| | | Special Glossy and Regular Royal and | | | Special Royal | .20| 1.10 | 2.00 | | | Ditto, Double Post-cards, 3-1/2 × 11 | | | inches | .40| 2.20 | 4.00 | | | Brownie Post-cards,2-3/4×4-1/4, Regular | | | and Special Velvet | .15| .80 | 1.50 --------------------------------------------------------------- * Glossy only ** For use in Self-transposing Stereo Printing Frame. Brownie Velox (one grade only) 2-1/4 × 2-1/4, per package 2 dozen sheets $0.15 2-1/4 × 3-1/4, per package 1 dozen sheets .10 Velox Sundries N. A. (Non-abrasion) Velox Liquid Developer, 4-ounce bottle (makes 20 ounces for Special, 12 ounces for Regular) $0.25 Ditto, 16-ounce bottle .75 Nepera Solution, per 4-ounce bottle .20 Ditto, per 16-ounce bottle .60 Nepera Capsules (for converting Nepera solution to a film or plate developer), per package 1 dozen .15 Velox Re-developer for Sepia Tones, per 4-ounce bottle .50 Ditto, 2 ounces (sufficient for 150 4 × 5 prints) .30 Velox Re-developer Tubes, per package 12 tubes .60 Velox Liquid Hardener, per 4-ounce bottle .15 Ditto, 8-ounce bottle .25 Kodak N. A. M. Q. Developer, per package 3 tubes .25 Kodak Acid Fixing Powder for fixing Velox prints, per pound .25 Ditto, 1/2 pound .15 Ditto, 1/4 pound .10 Kodak Velvet Green Effects heretofore to be had only by the laborious carbon process can now be secured by any amateur photographer with this new paper. For landscapes, for marines, and in fact, for the majority of outdoor amateur negatives, the rich green of prints on Kodak Velvet Green produces most beautiful harmonious effects, with an indescribable "atmosphere" of nature itself. And to use this paper the amateur has to learn no new processes nor possess extraordinary skill. Anyone who can print on Velox paper can print just as successfully on Kodak Velvet Green, as the two processes after exposure are identical, and the developing solution is only slightly changed. The surface--a smooth semi-matte--brings out detail fully, and the paper is supplied in both single and double weights. Kodak Velvet Green Post-cards are very appropriate for use at vacation time. Prices same as for Velox. (See page 53.) Angelo Platinum Paper Angelo Platinum Paper is exceedingly simple to handle and yields prints that are marvelous in gradation and delicacy. Made in Sepia only. Angelo Sepia, unlike most Sepia Platinum Papers, develops in a cold solution. Size Price per Doz. 3-1/2 × 3-1/2 $0.25 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 .25 4 × 5 .40 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 .40 4-1/4 × 6-1/2 .55 5 × 7 .65 ANGELO SOLUTION Angelo Sepia Solution (2-ounce bottle) $0.30 Angelo Sepia Salts (2-ounce package) 0.10 Aristo Gold Post Cards Rich sepia and purple tones. Print, wash and fix. Aristo Gold Post-cards, per dozen $0.30 Solio Paper A rapid, glossy printing-out paper. Size Per Package 2 Doz. 2-1/2 × 2-1/2 $0.20 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 .20 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 .20 3-1/2 × 3-1/2 .20 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 .20 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 .25 4 × 5 .25 3-1/4 × 6 (Stereo) .25 2-1/2 × 7 (No. 1 Panoram Kodak) .25 Per Doz. 4-1/4 × 6-1/2 $0.25 5 × 7 .30 3-1/2 × 12 (No. 4 Panoram Kodak) .35 Post-cards .15 Double Solio Post-cards .30 Brownie Post-cards, 2-3/4 × 4-1/4 .10 Solio Combined Toning and Fixing Solution, per 8-ounce bottle, 50 cents. Ditto, 4-ounce bottle, 30 cents; post-paid, 50 cents. Solio Toning and Fixing Powders, per box of 5 tubes, 25 cents. Eastman's "Ferro-Prussiate" Postals A "Blue Print" that retains delicacy and detail. 1 Doz. Post-cards (in sealed tubes) $0.15 Eastman's Permanent Bromide Papers For enlargements. Grades: Velvet, Royal, Standard, Platino, Enameled and Matte-enamel. Size per. Doz. 5 × 7 $0.35 5 × 8 .40 6-1/2 × 8-1/2 .60 8 × 10 .80 10 × 12 1.20 11 × 14 1.60 14 × 17 2.40 16 × 20 3.20 18 × 22 4.00 Other sizes in proportion "How to Make Good Pictures." Every side of Amateur Photography is treated in this little book. The Lens, the Camera, Composition, Exposure, Developing and Printing are all handled in a most helpful and simple manner. Flash Light and High Speed work are described in detail. The text is made plainer by numerous illustrations and even a child can understand clearly what is meant, for technical terms are avoided or made perfectly plain. The Price "How to Make Good Pictures," paper cover $ 0.25 Ditto, library edition, cloth bound 1.00 The Kodak Album Made on a new principle, which does away with mounting prints by paste or otherwise. They are merely slipped into pocket strips at top and bottom, and will not come out unless removed by hand. Handsome grain leather cover and black leaves with linen finish. A, 2-1/4 × 3-1/4, 25 leaves, 3 on $2.75 B, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4, 25 leaves, 3 on 3.00 C, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4, 25 leaves, 3 on 3.00 D, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2, 25 leaves, 3 on 3.25 E, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2, 50 leaves, 3 on 4.25 F, 4 × 5, 25 leaves, 2 on 3.00 G, 4-1/4 × 6-1/2, 25 leaves, 2 on 3.25 H, 5 × 7, 25 leaves, 2 on 3.50 The Interchange Album An unusually long-lived album on the loose leaf principle. Has special embossed leather cover with grain leather corners and back. Furnished with 50 linen finish leaves--black only. Pkg. 12 ex. le'v's A, 5 × 8 $3.00 $0.15 B, 7 × 11 3.50 .20 C, 10 × 12 5.00 .30 D, 11 × 14 6.00 .40 The Agrippa Album A new, unusually flexible loose leaf album with beautiful grain leather covering and 50 linen finish black leaves. Pkg. 12 ex. le'v's A, 5 × 8 $1.60 $0.15 B, 7 × 11 1.90 .20 C, 10 × 12 3.50 .30 D, 9 × 14 3.75 .40 The Arena Album Flexible, finest quality black grain leather cover. J, 50 Black leaves, or S, 50 Sepia leaves, 5-1/2 × 7 $1.25 K, 50 Black leaves, or T, 50 Sepia leaves, 7 × 10 1.90 L, 50 Black leaves, or U, 50 Sepia leaves, 10 × 7 1.90 M, 50 Black leaves, or W, 50 Sepia leaves, 11 × 14 3.75 The Tiber Album A very flexible loose leaf album with imitation leather covering and 50 black leaves. Pkg. 12 ex. le'v's A, 5 × 8 $0.80 $0.15 B, 7 × 11 1.15 .20 C, 10 × 12 1.90 .30 D, 9 × 14 2.20 .40 The Forum Album Flexible, black imitation leather embossed cover. A, 25 Black leaves, or N, 25 Sepia leaves, 5-1/2 × 7 $0.45 B, 25 Black leaves, or O, 25 Sepia leaves, 7 × 10 .60 C, 25 Black leaves, or P, 25 Sepia leaves, 10 × 7 .60 D, 25 Black leaves, or R, 25 Sepia leaves, 11 × 14 1.60 E, 50 Black leaves, 5-1/2 × 7 .60 F, 50 Black leaves, 7 × 10 .95 G, 50 Black leaves, 10 × 7 .95 H, 50 Black leaves, 11 × 14 1.90 Artist's Album Loose leaf system, silk lacing. No. 1, Black leaves; No. 2, White leaves; No. 3, Sepia leaves, 5-1/2 × 7 $0.25 Extra leaves, package of 5 .09 No. 4, Black leaves; No. 5, White leaves; No. 6, Sepia leaves, 7 × 10 .35 Extra leaves, package of 5 .12 Snap-shot Album Substantial card covering, soft black leaves. No. 19 20 pages, 5-1/2 × 7 $0.12 No. 18 20 pages, 7 × 10 .15 Souvenir Post-card Album Flexible, black leather embossed cloth cover. X, 25 Black leaves, 10 × 7, for 100 cards $0.60 X, R, 25 Black leaves, 11 × 14, for 200 cards 1.90 X, T, {Flexible, Black grain leather cover} 3.20 {25 leaves, 11 × 14, for 200 cards } Woodmat A new medium for mounting prints on the "slip in" principle, giving the effect of a rich brown wood frame. For Print Outside Each No. 1 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 4-3/8 × 5-3/8 $0.06 No. 1A 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 4-5/8 × 6-3/8 .07 No. 3 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 5-1/2 × 6-1/2 .08 No. 3A 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 6-1/4 × 8-3/8 .09 No. 4 4 × 5 6-3/4 × 7-3/4 .09 Eastman Film Negative Albums For 100 negatives, 2-1/2 × 4-1/4, or smaller $ .75 For 100 negatives, 3-1/2 × 3-1/2 or smaller .75 For 100 negatives, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4, or 4 × 5 1.00 For 100 negatives, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2, or smaller 1.00 For 100 negatives, 5 × 7, or smaller 1.50 Kodak Mounts VIEW Carbon Black, and Scotch Grey, felt surface, bevelled edges, no embossed design For Prints Size Outside Per 50 Per doz. 1-5/8 × 2-1/2 3-1/4 × 4 $0.30 $0.10 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 4 × 5 .35 .10 2-1/4 × 4-1/4 4-1/4 × 6 .45 .15 3-1/2 × 3-1/2 5 × 5 .45 .15 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 5 × 6 .55 .20 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 5-1/4 × 7-1/2 .65 .20 4 × 5 5-3/8 × 6-3/8 .60 .20 2-1/4 × 7 4 × 8-3/4 .60 .20 4-1/4 × 6-1/2 6-1/4 × 8-1/2 .85 .25 5 × 7 7 × 9 .95 .30 3-1/2 × 12 5-3/8 × 13-3/4 1.10 .30 LAGOON Jet Black, Ash Grey and White For Prints Size Outside Per 50 Per doz. 2-1/4 × 2-1/4 3-5/8 × 3-5/8 $0.40 $0.10 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 4 × 5 .45 .15 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 4-1/4 × 6 .55 .15 3-1/2 × 3-1/2 5 × 5 .55 .15 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 5 × 6 .65 .20 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 5-1/4 × 7-1/2 .75 .25 4 × 5 5-3/8 × 6-3/8 .70 .20 4-1/4 × 6-1/2 6-1/4 × 8-1/2 1.05 .30 5 × 7 7 × 9 1.15 .35 RIVERVIEW A Slip-in Mount, no paste needed. Grey and Brown--Oval and Square For Prints Size Outside Per 50 Per doz. 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 4 × 5 $0.75 $0.25 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 4-1/8 × 5-7/8 .85 .30 3-1/2 × 3-1/2 5 × 5 .90 .30 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 5 × 6 .95 .30 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 5 × 7 1.00 .35 4 × 5 5-3/4 × 6-3/4 1.05 .35 GLENCAIRN Slip-in Style, Solid Back, Grey and Buff, Square only For Prints Size Outside Per 50 Per doz. 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 4 × 5 $1.05 $0.30 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 4-1/4 × 6 1.15 .35 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 5 × 6 1.25 .40 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 5-1/4 × 7-1/2 1.45 .45 4 × 5 5-7/8 × 6-7/8 1.55 .50 RIVERA Jet Black, White and Artists Brown, wide border, bevelled edges For Prints Size Outside Per 50 Per doz. 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 4-1/2 × 5-3/8 $0.60 $0.20 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 5 × 6-3/4 .70 .20 3-1/2 × 3-1/2 5-3/8 × 5-3/8 .65 .20 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 5-3/8 × 6-3/8 .75 .25 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 5-3/4 × 8 1.00 .30 4 × 5 6-1/2 × 7-3/8 1.05 .30 4-1/4 × 6-1/2 6-3/4 × 8-3/4 1.15 .35 5 × 7 7-1/4 × 9-1/4 1.20 .35 RIDGEWAY In duplex form, for Oval or Square Prints, Brown and Grey. For Prints Size Outside Per 50 Per doz. 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 4 × 5 $1.05 $0.30 2-1/2 × 4-1/4 4-1/4 × 6 1.15 .35 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 5 × 6 1.25 .40 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 5-1/4 × 7-1/2 1.45 .45 4 × 5 5-7/8 × 6-7/8 1.55 .50 Stereo Mounts Size of mount, 3-1/2 × 7; color, English Grey; per 100, $0.65; per 50, $0.35 Kodak Dry Mounting Tissue Mounts prints even on thin mounts without curl. The simplest method of mounting, no apparatus being required--just fix the tissue on print, lay on mount and press with a warm flat iron; no sticky fingers, no muss of any kind. The Price Size, 3-1/2 × 3-1/2, 3 dozen $0.10 Size, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4, 3 dozen .10 Size, 3-1/4 × 5-1/2, 2 dozen .10 Size, 4 × 5, 2 dozen .10 Size, 4-1/4 × 6-1/2, 1 dozen .10 Size, 5 × 7, 1 dozen .10 Glass Dry Plates Seed and Royal Special Extra Rapid. Size Per doz. 3-1/2 × 3-1/2 $0.35 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 .45 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 .65 Royal Lantern Slide Plates, 3-1/4 × 3-1/4 .35 Ditto, 3-1/4 × 4 .45 4 × 5 .65 4-1/4 × 6-1/2 .90 5 × 7 1.10 Cover Glass, 3-1/4 × 3-1/4 .18 Ditto, 3-1/4 × 4 .20 Lantern Slide Binders, per package, 50 strips .10 Printing Frames Eastman 3-1/2 × 3-1/2, opens two-thirds $0.25 Eastman 3-1/4 × 4-1/4, opens two-thirds .25 Eastman 3-1/4 × 5-1/2, for films, opens two-thirds .25 Ditto, for plates .25 Eastman 4 × 5, opens two-thirds .25 Eastman 5 × 7, opens two-thirds .35 Eastman 3-1/2 × 12, for No. 4 Panoram Kodak, opens in three sections .75 Eastman 2-1/4 × 7, for No. 1 Panoram Kodak, opens in two sections .30 Brownie Printing Frame, No. 1, for 2-1/4 × 2-1/4 Developing paper only .10 Brownie Printing Frame, No. 2, for 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 Developing paper only .15 Developing Trays "Bull's-Eye" Composition, 4 × 6 $0.15 "Bull's-Eye" Composition, 5 × 7 .30 "Bull's-Eye" Composition. 3 × 8-1/2 .22 "Bull's-Eye" Composition, 4-1/2 × 14 .50 Maple Leaf Enameled, 4 × 5 .20 Maple Leaf Enameled, 4 × 6 .25 Maple Leaf Enameled, 5 × 7 .35 Flash-Light Material The simplest and safest method of making flash-light pictures is by means of the Eastman Flash Sheets and Kodak Flash Sheet Holder. The sheets burn slowly, giving a broad, soft light, and not so startling the subject as to give a staring effect to the eyes. [Illustration] The holder is a genuine innovation. A saw tooth holds the sheet in proper position and it is lighted from the back through an aperture provided in the centre for the purpose. In this manner the holder is always between the operator and the flash sheet, and it may be held in the hand or supported on a tripod, a socket being provided for the latter purpose. No. 1 Flash Sheets, per package of 1/2 dozen sheets, 3 × 4 $0.25 No. 2 Flash Sheets, per package of 1/2 dozen sheets, 4 × 5 .40 No. 3 Flash Sheets, per package of 1/2 dozen sheets, 5 × 7 .60 Kodak Flash Sheet Holder 1.00 Kodak Magnesium Ribbon Holder This extremely handy little apparatus provides a most convenient method of burning magnesium ribbon for photographic purposes. It comprises at once a compact magazine for storing the ribbon, a convenient holder for burning it, and a ready means of measuring definite lengths. [Illustration] For printing on Velox and other gas light papers, lantern slides, etc., the ribbon is pushed forward by a movement of the thumb upon the edge of the revolving disc until the desired length of ribbon projects from holder. Kodak Magnesium Ribbon Holder $0.20 Alcohol Lamp for use with above .25 _Flashlight Material cannot be sent by mail._ Kodak Trimming Boards Made of hard wood, with natural finish, have fine quality steel blades and are fitted with rule. [Illustration] No. 1, capacity, 5 × 5 inches $0.40 No. 2, capacity, 7 × 7 inches .60 Transparent Trimming Gauge (extra) .20 Kodak Candle Lamp This clever little lamp is collapsible and can be packed into very small space when not in use. It is made of special tested ruby fabric, bound in metal frames and gives a strong, safe light for the dark room. [Illustration] Kodak Candle Lamp $0.25 Extra Candles for same, per dozen .30 Kodak Dark Room Lamp The Kodak Dark Room Lamp is oil burning and is fitted with both orange and ruby glass. It has an unusually broad wick regulated from the outside and gives a soft, steady light for the dark room. [Illustration] No. 2 Kodak Dark Room Lamp $1.00 Velox Lantern Slide Film For use with the Kodiopticon or any other lantern slide projector that has a water cell cooling device. With these films you can make lantern slides by contact as easily as you can make Velox prints, the exposure, development and printing being the same. For making slides by projection they are as convenient as any plate. After the slide is made, it is masked with Velox Lantern Slide Mats and mounted in the Velox Lantern Slide Frame which has standard opening, and eliminates the binding of the edges. These slides are absolutely unbreakable. Prices Velox Lantern Slide Films. 2-3/4 × 3-1/4, per dozen $0.30 Velox Lantern Slide Frames, per dozen .25 Velox Lantern Slide Mats, 2-7/8 × 3-5/16, per 2 dozen .05 Nepera Solution, for developing Velox Lantern Slide Films, 4-ounce bottle .20 Lantern Slide Film Varnish, 4-ounce bottle .25 Tested Chemicals [Illustration] Certainty in making negatives and prints depends as much on the quality of your chemicals as on any other one thing. All Kodak chemicals are tested both photographically and for purity before the C. K. C. tested seal is allowed to go upon them. That seal is your protection. Kodak Chemical Outfit $0.30 Eastman Special Developer Powders, per dozen .50 Ditto, per 1/2 dozen .25 Eastman Special Developer Powders, per pkg. 5, in sealed glass tubes .25 Eastman Hydrochinon Developer Powders, per dozen .50 Ditto, per 1/2 dozen .25 Eastman's Pyro Developer Powders, per dozen .50 Ditto, per 1/2 dozen .25 Ditto, per package 5 powders, in sealed glass tubes .25 Elon, per 1-ounce .50 Roylon, per 1-ounce bottle .50 Hydrochinon, per 1-ounce bottle .15 Eastman's Permanent Crystal Pyro, per 1-ounce bottle .25 Velox Re-Developer Tubes, package of 12 tubes .60 Hypo Sulphite of Soda, granular, per pound .08 Alum, powdered, per pound .10 Kodak Acid Fixing Powder, per pound package .25 Ditto, per 1/2-pound package .15 Ditto, per 1/4-pound package .10 Eastman Intensifier, glass tube, per tube .15 Eastman Reducer, per box of 5 tubes .25 Potassium Bromide, per ounce .12 Kodak Tested Carbonate of Soda (desiccated), per 1-pound bottle .20 Kodak Tested Sulphite of Soda (desiccated), per 1-pound bottle .30 For Velox preparations see page 53. For Solio preparations, see page 55. For Tank Developer Chemicals, see page 43. Kodak Sundries Eastman Photo Paste, 3-ounce tube $0.15 Ditto, 5-ounce tube .25 Eastman Thermometer .50 Thermometer Stirring Rod .60 Hard Rubber Stirring Rod .20 Eastman Film Clips, 3-1/2-inch, per pair (nickeled) .30 Ditto, 5-inch .35 Kodak Film Clips, 5-inch (wood), per pair .15 Focusing Cloth, per yard .50 Moulded Graduate, 4-ounce .10 Ditto, 8-ounce .15 Ditto, 16-ounce .20 Ferrotype Plate, 10 × 14, light .20 Ditto, 10 × 14, heavy .25 Ditto, 18 × 24, heavy .75 Kodak Print Roller, 2 × 6-inch rubber roller, nickeled frame .50 Flexo Print Roller, 4-inch rubber roller, black enameled frame .15 Eastman's Special Squeegee, 6-inch .30 Ditto, 8-inch .35 Developing and Printing on Velox Paper ======================================================================== |Developing and |Developing| Printing only |Printing Per Roll| only | Each Exposure Size |-----------------|----------|----------------- |Mounted|Unmounted| Per Roll |Mounted|Unmounted ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 1-1/2 × 2 12 ex. only| $0.90| $0.84 | $0.25 | $0.06 |$0.05-1/2 1-5/8 × 2-1/2 12 ex. | .95| .89 | .40 | .06 | .05-1/2 1-5/8 × 2-1/2 8 ex. | .65| .60 | .30 | | 1-5/8 × 2-1/2 6 ex. | .50| .45 | .20 | | 2-1/4 × 2-1/4 6 ex. only| .50| .47 | .20 | .06 | .05-1/2 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 12 ex. | 1.40| 1.28 | .50 | .08 | .07 2-1/4 × 3-1/4 6 ex. | .70| .64 | .25 | | 2-1/4 × 4-1/4 12 ex. | 1.50| 1.38 | .70 | .08 | .07 3-1/2 × 3-1/2 12 ex. | 1.50| 1.38 | .70 | .08 | .07 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 12 ex. | 1.50| 1.38 | .70 | .08 | .07 3-1/4 × 4-1/4 6 ex. | .75| .69 | .35 | | 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 10 ex. | 1.50| 1.40 | .80 | .10 | .09 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 6 ex. | .90| .84 | .50 | | 4 × 5 12 ex. | 1.80| 1.68 | 1.00 | .10 | .09 4 × 5 6 ex. | .90| .84 | .50 | | 4-1/4 × 6-1/2 6 ex. only| 1.20| 1.05 | .60 |.12-1/2| .10 5 × 7 6 ex. only| 1.20| 1.05 | .60 |.12-1/2| .10 2-1/4 × 7 6 ex. only| 1.40| 1.28 | .50 | .16 | .14 3-1/2 × 12 4 ex. only| 1.40| 1.28 | .75 | .20 | .17 ======================================================================== Unmounted prints are furnished unless otherwise specified in order. "Double Weight" prints will be billed at mounted rates. No orders executed for less than $0.25. Prints mounted with "Kodak Dry Mounting Tissue," no curling. Enlargements Each Per doz. 4-1/4 × 6-1/2, on card $0.35 $3.00 6-1/2 × 8-1/2, on card .50 5.00 8 × 10, on card .75 Lantern Slides .50 5.00 10 × 12, on card 1.00 11 × 14, on card 1.25 14 × 17, on card 1.50 Larger sizes in proportion. 3-1/4 × 5-1/2 Enlargements, from 1-5/8 × 2-1/2 negatives, each, unmounted $0.15; mounted $0.16. No extra charge for Sepia Tones. Small extra charge for double or triple mounting. Where the kind of paper is not specified, we use our own judgment. Specimen Prints A specimen photograph made with any Kodak (not larger than 4 × 5) will be sent to any address in Canada upon receipt of four cents in stamps; No. 4A Folding Kodak, eight cents; No. 4 Panoram Kodak, twenty cents. Tourists Travelers can always obtain fresh supplies of films at any of the following addresses: LONDON Kodak, Limited, Kingsway, W.C.; 60 Cheapside, E.C.; 115 Oxford Street, W.; 171-173 Regent Street. W.; 40 Strand, W.C.; 59 Brompton Road, S. W.; 1 and 2 Gracechurch Street, E.C. LIVERPOOL Kodak, Limited, 96 Bold Street BIRMINGHAM Kodak, Limited, 45 Corporation Street NEWCASTLE Kodak, Limited, 34 Grainger Street GLASGOW Kodak, Limited, 72-74 Buchanan Street DUBLIN Kodak, Limited, 89 Grafton Street PARIS Kodak Société Anonyme Française, Avenue de l'Opéra 5; Place Vendôme 4 Boulevard Des Italiens 9 LYONS Kodak Société Anonyme Française, Rue de la Republic 26 LAUSANNE Kodak Société Anonyme, Avenue Du Tribunal Federal 13 NICE Kodak Société Anonyme Française, Avenue de la Gare 34 MADRID Kodak Sociedad Anonima; Puerta Del Sol 4 BERLIN Kodak Gesellschaft, m.b.H., Leipzigerstrasse 115-116; Unter Den Linden 26 Tauentzienstrasse 14 BRUSSELS Kodak, Limited, Rue de l'Ecuyer 36 COPENHAGEN Kodak Aktieselskab, Ostergade 1 VIENNA Kodak Gesellschaft, m.b.H. 1 Kärntnerstrasse 16 ST. PETERSBURG Kodak, Limited, Bolschaia Konnuschenaia 19 MOSCOW Kodak, Limited, Petrovka 15-16 MILAN Kodak Società Anonima; Corso Vittorio Emanule 34 ROME Kodak Società Anonima; Corso Umberto 1, 399 NAPLES Kodak Società Anonima, Via Roma 288 VENICE Kodak Società Anonima; Piazza S. Marco 52 BUDAPEST Kodak Társaság K. f. 4 Vaci-utca 9 ALEXANDRIA Kodak (Egypt) Societé Anonyme, Rue Chérif Pacha 30 CAIRO Kodak (Egypt) S. A. Opera Square CAPE TOWN Kodak (South Africa), Limited, 92-96 St. George's Street MELBOURNE Kodak (Australasia), Limited, 284 Collins Street SYDNEY Kodak (Australasia), Limited, 379 George Street BRISBANE Kodak (Australasia), Limited, 78 Queen Street ADELAIDE Kodak (Australasia), Limited, 97 Rundle Street WELLINGTON Kodak (Australasia), Limited, 9 Mercer Street BOMBAY Kodak, Limited, Cook's Building, Hornby Road Terms The prices in this catalogue are strictly net, except to regular dealers who carry our goods in stock. For the convenience of our customers we recommend that they make their purchases from a dealer in photographic goods, as by so doing they can save both time and transportation charges. CANADIAN KODAK CO., LIMITED, TORONTO, CANADA. 
168	----	This etext was created by Gregory Walker, in Austin, Texas, for the Digital Daguerreian Archive Project--electronic texts from the dawn of photography. Internet: gwalker@netcom.com CompuServe: 73577,677 The location of the illustrations in the text are marked by "[hipho_##.gif]" on a separate line. I hope this etext inspires a wider interest in the origins of photography and in the modern practice of the Daguerreian Art. THE HISTORY AND PRACTICE OF THE ART OF PHOTOGRAPHY; OR THE PRODUCTION OF PICTURES THROUGH THE AGENCY OF LIGHT. CONTAINING ALL THE INSTRUCTIONS NECESSARY FOR THE COMPLETE PRACTICE OF THE DAGUERREAN AND PHOTOGENIC ART, BOTH ON METALLIC PLATES AND ON PAPER. By HENRY H. SNELLING. ILLUSTRATED WITH WOOD CUTS. New York: PUBLISHED BY G. P. PUTNAM, 155 Broadway, 1849. Entered according to act of Congress in the year 1849, by H. H. Snelling, in the Clerk's office, of the District Court of the Southern District of New York. New York: PRINTED BY BUSTEED & McCOY, 163 Fulton Street. TO EDWARD ANTHONY, ESQ., AN ESTEEMED FRIEND. Whose gentlemanly deportment, liberal feelings, and strict integrity have secured him a large circle of friends, this work is Respectfully Dedicated By the AUTHOR. PREFACE. The object of this little work is to fill a void much complained of by Daguerreotypists--particularly young beginners. The author has waited a long time in hopes that some more able pen would be devoted to the subject, but the wants of the numerous, and constantly increasing, class, just mentioned, induces him to wait no longer. All the English works on the subject--particularly on the practical application, of Photogenic drawing--are deficient in many minute details, which are essential to a complete understanding of the art. Many of their methods of operating are entirely different from, and much inferior to, those practised in the United States: their apparatus, also, cannot compare with ours for completeness, utility or simplicity. I shall, therefore, confine myself principally--so far as Photogenic drawing upon metalic plates is concerned--to the methods practised by the most celebrated and experienced operators, drawing upon French and English authority only in cases where I find it essential to the purpose for which I design my work, namely: furnishing a complete system of Photography; such an one as will enable any gentleman, or lady, who may wish to practise the art, for profit or amusement, to do so without the trouble and expense of seeking instruction from professors, which in many cases within my own knowledge has prevented persons from embracing the profession. To English authors I am principally indebted for that portion of my work relating to Photogenic drawing on paper. To them we owe nearly all the most important improvements in that branch of the art. Besides, it has been but seldom attempted in the United States, and then without any decided success. Of these attempts I shall speak further in the Historical portion of this volume. Every thing essential, therefore, to a complete knowledge of the whole art, comprising all the most recent discoveries and improvements down to the day of publication will be found herein laid down. CONTENTS I. A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE ART. II. THE THEORY ON LIGHT.--THE PHOTOGRAPHIC PRINCIPLE III. SYNOPSIS OF MR. HUNT'S TREATISE ON "THE INFLUENCE OF THE SOLAR RAYS ON COMPOUND BODIES, WITH ESPECIAL REFERENCE TO THEIR PHOTOGRAPHIC APPLICATION." IV. A FEW HINTS AND SUGGESTIONS TO DAGUERREOTYPISTS. V. DAGUERREOTYPE APPARATUS. VI. THE DAGUERREOTYPE PROCESS. VII. PAPER DAGUERREOTYPES.--ETCHING DAGUERREOTYPES. VIII. PHOTOGENIC DRAWING ON PAPER. IX. CALOTYPE AND CHRYSOTYPE. X. CYANOTYPE--ENERGIATYPE--CHROMATYPE--ANTHOTYPE--AMPHITYPE AND "CRAYON DAGUERREOTYPE." XI. ON THE PROBABILITY OF PRODUCING COLORED PICTURES BY THE SOLAR RADIATIONS--PHOTOGRAPHIC DEVIATIONS--LUNAR PICTURES--DRUMMOND LIGHT. XII. ON COLORING DAGUERREOTYPES. XIII. THE PHOTOGRAPHOMETER. INDEX. INTRODUCTION New York, January 27, 1849. E. ANTHONY, ESQ. Dear Sir,--In submitting the accompanying "History and Practice of Photography" to your perusal, and for your approbation, I do so with the utmost confidence in your ability as a practical man, long engaged in the science of which it treats, as well as your knowledge of the sciences generally; as well as your regard for candor. To you, therefore, I leave the decision whether or no I have accomplished my purpose, and produced a work which may not only be of practical benefit to the Daguerrean artist, but of general interest to the reading public, and your decision will influence me in offering it for, or withholding it from, publication. If it meets your approbation, I would most respectfully ask permission to dedicate it to you, subscribing myself, With esteem, Ever truly yours, HENRY H. SNELLING New York, February 1st, 1849. Mr. H. H. SNELLING. Dear Sir--Your note of January 27th, requesting permission to dedicate to me your "History and Practice of Photography," I esteem a high compliment, particularly since I have read the manuscript of your work. Such a treatise has long been needed, and the manner in which you have handled the subject will make the book as interesting to the reading public as it is valuable to the Daguerrean artist, or the amateur dabbler in Photography. I have read nearly all of the many works upon this art that have emanated from the London and Paris presses, and I think the reader will find in yours the pith of them all, with much practical and useful information that I do not remember to have seen communicated elsewhere. There is much in it to arouse the reflective and inventive faculties of our Daguerreotypists. They have heretofore stumbled along with very little knowledge of the true theory of their art, and yet the quality of their productions is far in advance of those of the French and English artists, most of whose establishments I have had the pleasure of visiting I feel therefore, that when a sufficient amount of theoretic knowledge shall have been added to this practical skill on the part of our operators, and when they shall have been made fully acquainted with what has been attained or attempted by others, a still greater advance in the art will be manifested. A GOOD Daguerreotypist is by no means a mere machine following a certain set of fixed rules. Success in this art requires personal skill and artistic taste to a much greater degree than the unthinking public generally imagine; in fact more than is imagined by nine-tenths of the Daguerreotypists themselves. And we see as a natural result, that while the business numbers its thousands of votaries, but few rise to any degree of eminence. It is because they look upon their business as a mere mechanical operation, and having no aim or pride beyond the earning of their daily bread, they calculate what will be a fair per centage on the cost of their plate, case, and chemicals, leaving MIND, which is as much CAPITAL as anything else (where it is exercised,) entirely out of the question. The art of taking photographs on PAPER, of which your work treats at considerable length, has as yet attracted but little attention in this country, though destined, as I fully believe, to attain an importance far superior to that to which the Daguerreotype has risen. The American mind needs a waking up upon the subject, and I think your book will give a powerful impulse in this direction. In Germany a high degree of perfection has been reached, and I hope your countrymen will not be slow to follow. Your interesting account of the experiments of Mr. Wattles was entirely new to me, and is another among the many evidences that when the age is fully ripe for any great discovery, it is rare that it does not occur to more than a single mind. Trusting that your work will meet with the encouragement which your trouble in preparing it deserves, and with gratitude for the undeserved compliment paid to me in its dedication, I remain, very sincerely, Your friend and well wisher, E. ANTHONY. PHOTOGRAPHY. CHAP. I. A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE ART. As in all cases of great and valuable inventions in science and art the English lay claim to the honor of having first discovered that of Photogenic drawing. But we shall see in the progress of this history, that like many other assumptions of their authors, priority in this is no more due them, then the invention of steamboats, or the cotton gin. This claim is founded upon the fact that in 1802 Mr. Wedgwood recorded an experiment in the Journal of the Royal Institution of the following nature. "A piece of paper, or other convenient material, was placed upon a frame and sponged over with a solution of nitrate of silver; it was then placed behind a painting on glass and the light traversing the painting produced a kind of copy upon the prepared paper, those parts in which the rays were least intercepted being of the darkest hues. Here, however, terminated the experiment; for although both Mr. Wedgwood and Sir Humphry Davey experimented carefully, for the purpose of endeavoring to fix the drawings thus obtained, yet the object could not be accomplished, and the whole ended in failure." This, by their own showing, was the earliest attempt of the English savans. But this much of the principle was known to the Alchemists at an early date--although practically produced in another way--as the following experiment, to be found in old books, amply proves. "Dissolve chalk in aquafortis to the consistence of milk, and add to it a strong solution of silver; keep this liquor in a glass bottle well stopped; then cutting out from a piece of paper the letters you would have appear, paste it on the decanter, and lay it in the sun's rays in such a manner that the rays may pass through the spaces cut out of the paper and fall on the surface of the liquor the part of the glass through which the rays pass will be turned black, while that under the paper remains white; but particular care must be observed that the bottle be not moved during the operation." Had not the alchemists been so intent upon the desire to discover the far famed philosopher's stone, as to make them unmindful of the accidental dawnings of more valuable discoveries, this little experiment in chemistry might have induced them to prosecute a more thorough search into the principle, and Photogenic art would not now, as it is, be a new one. It is even asserted that the Jugglers of India were for many ages in possession of a secret by which they were enabled, in a brief space, to copy the likeness of any individual by the action of light. This fact, if fact it be, may account for the celebrated magic mirrors said to be possessed by these jugglers, and probable cause of their power over the people. However, as early as 1556 the fact was established that a combination of chloride and silver, called, from its appearance, horn silver, was blackened by the sun's rays; and in the latter part of the last century Mrs. Fulhame published an experiment by which a change of color was effected in the chloride of gold by the agency of light; and gave it as her opinion that words might be written in this way. These incidents are considered as the first steps towards the discovery of the Photogenic art. Mr. Wedgwood's experiments can scarcely be said to be any improvement on them since he failed to bring them to practical usefulness, and his countrymen will have to be satisfied with awarding the honor of its complete adaptation to practical purposes, to MM. Niepce and Daguerre of France, and to Professors Draper, and Morse of New-York. These gentlemen--MM. Niepce and Daguerre--pursued the subject simultaneously, without either, however being aware of the experiments of his colleague in science. For several years, each pursued his researches individually until chance made them acquainted, when they entered into co-partnership, and conjointly brought the art almost to perfection. M. Niepce presented his first paper on the subject to the Royal Society in 1827, naming his discovery Heliography. What led him to the study of the principles of the art I have no means, at present, of knowing, but it was probably owing to the facts recorded by the Alchemists, Mrs. Fulhame and others, already mentioned. But M. Daguerre, who is a celebrated dioramic painter, being desirous of employing some of the singularly changeable salts of silver to produce a peculiar class of effects in his paintings, was led to pursue an investigation which resulted in the discovery of the Daguerreotype, or Photogenic drawing on plates of copper coated with silver. To this gentleman--to his liberality--are we Americans indebted for the free use of his invention; and the large and increasing class of Daguerrean artists of this country should hold him in the most profound respect for it. He was not willing that it should be confined to a few individuals who might monopolise the benefits to be derived from its practice, and shut out all chance of improvement. Like a true, noble hearted French gentleman he desired that his invention should spread freely throughout the whole world. With these views he opened negociations with the French government which were concluded most favorably to both the inventors, and France has the "glory of endowing the whole world of science and art with one of the most surprising discoveries that honor the land." Notwithstanding this, it has been patented in England and the result is what might have been expected: English pictures are far below the standard of excellence of those taken by American artists. I have seen some medium portraits, for which a guinea each had been paid, and taken too, by a celebrated artist, that our poorest Daguerreotypists would be ashamed to show to a second person, much less suffer to leave their rooms. CALOTYPE, the name given to one of the methods of Photogenic drawing on paper, discovered, and perfected by Mr. Fox Talbot of England, is precisely in the same predicament, not only in that country but in the United States, Mr. Talbot being patentee in both. He is a man of some wealth, I believe, but he demands so high a price for a single right in this country, that none can be found who have the temerity to purchase. The execution of his pictures is also inferior to those taken by the German artists, and I would remark en passant, that the Messrs. Mead exhibited at the last fair of the American Institute, (of 1848,) four Calotypes, which one of the firm brought from Germany last Spring, that for beauty, depth of tone and excellence of execution surpass the finest steel engraving. When Mr. Talbot's patent for the United States expires and our ingenious Yankee boys have the opportunity, I have not the slightest doubt of the Calotype, in their hands, entirely superceding the Daguerreotype. Let them, therefore, study the principles of the art as laid down in this little work, experiment, practice and perfect themselves in it, and when that time does arrive be prepared to produce that degree of excellence in Calotype they have already obtained in Daguerreotype. It is to Professor Samuel F. B. Morse, the distinguished inventor of the Magnetic Telegraph, of New York, that we are indebted for the application of Photography, to portrait taking. He was in Paris, for the purpose of presenting to the scientific world his Electro-Magnetic Telegraph, at the time, (1838,) M. Daguerre announced his splendid discovery, and its astounding results having an important bearing on the arts of design arrested his attention. In his letter to me on the subject, the Professor gives the following interesting facts. "The process was a secret, and negociations were then in progress, for the disclosure of it to the public between the French government and the distinguished discoverer. M. Daguerre had shown his results to the king, and to a few only of the distinguished savans, and by the advice of M. Arago, had determined to wait the action of the French Chambers, before showing them to any other persons. I was exceedingly desirous of seeing them, but knew not how to approach M. Daguerre who was a stranger to me. On mentioning my desire to Robert Walsh, Esq., our worthy Consul, he said to me; 'state that you are an American, the inventor of the Telegraph, request to see them, and invite him in turn to see the Telegraph, and I know enough of the urbanity and liberal feelings of the French, to insure you an invitation.' I was successfull in my application, and with a young friend, since deceased, the promising son of Edward Delevan, Esq., I passed a most delightful hour with M. Daguerre, and his enchanting sun-pictures. My letter containing an account of this visit, and these pictures, was the first announcement in this country of this splendid discovery." "I may here add the singular sequel to this visit. On the succeeding day M. Daguerre paid me a visit to see the Telegraph and witness its operations. He seemed much gratified and remained with me perhaps two hours; two melancholy hours to him, as they afterwards proved; or while he was with me, his buildings, including his diorama, his studio, his laboratory, with all the beautiful pictures I had seen the day before, were consumed by fire. Fortunately for mankind, matter only was consumed, the soul and mind of the genius, and the process were still in existence." On his return home, Professor Morse waited with impatience for the revelation of M. Daguerre's process, and no sooner was it published than he procured a copy of the work containing it, and at once commenced taking Daguerreotype pictures. At first his object was solely to furnish his studio with studies from nature; but his experiments led him into a belief of the practicability of procuring portraits by the process, and he was undoubtedly the first whose attempts were attended with success. Thinking, at that time, that it was necessary to place the sitters in a very strong light, they were all taken with their eyes closed. Others were experimenting at the same time, among them Mr. Wolcott and Prof. Draper, and Mr. Morse, with his accustomed modesty, thinks that it would be difficult to say to whom is due the credit of the first Daguerreotype portrait. At all events, so far as my knowledge serves me, Professor Morse deserves the laurel wreath, as from him originated the first of our inumerable class of Daguerreotypists; and many of his pupils have carried the manipulation to very great perfection. In connection with this matter I will give the concluding paragraph of a private letter from the Professor to me; He says. "If mine were the first, other experimenters soon made better results, and if there are any who dispute that I was first, I shall have no argument with them; for I was not so anxious to be the first to produce the result, as to produce it in any way. I esteem it but the natural carrying out of the wonderful discovery, and that the credit was after all due to Daguerre. I lay no claim to any improvements." Since I commenced the compilation of this work, I have had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of an American gentleman--James M. Wattles Esq.--who as early as 1828--and it will be seen, by what I have already stated, that this is about the same date of M. Niepce's discovery--had his attention attracted to the subject of Photography, or as he termed it "Solar picture drawing," while taking landscape views by means of the camera-obscura. When we reflect upon all the circumstances connected with his experiments, the great disadvantages under which he labored, and his extreme youthfullness, we cannot but feel a national pride--yet wonder--that a mere yankee boy, surrounded by the deepest forests, hundred of miles from the populous portion of our country, without the necessary materials, or resources for procuring them, should by the force of his natural genius make a discovery, and put it in practical use, to accomplish which, the most learned philosophers of Europe, with every requisite apparatus, and a profound knowledge of chemistry--spent years of toil to accomplish. How much more latent talent may now be slumbering from the very same cause which kept Mr. Wattles from publicly revealing his discoveries, viz; want of encouragement--ridicule! At the time when the idea of taking pictures permanently on paper by means of the camera-obscura first occurred to him, he was but sixteen years of age, and under the instructions of Mr. Charles Le Seuer, (a talented artist from Paris) at the New Harmony school, Indiana. Drawing and painting being the natural bent of his mind, he was frequently employed by the professors to make landscape sketches in the manner mentioned. The beauty of the image of these landscapes produced on the paper in the camera-obscura, caused him to pause and admire them with all the ardor of a young artist, and wish that by some means, he could fix them there in all their beauty. From wishing he brought himself to think that it was not only possible but actually capable of accomplishment and from thinking it could, he resolved it should be done. He was, however, wholly ignorant of even the first principles of chemistry, and natural philosophy, and all the knowledge he was enabled to obtain from his teachers was of very little service to him. To add to this, whenever he mentioned his hopes to his parents, they laughed at him, and bade him attend to his studies and let such moonshine thoughts alone--still he persevered, though secretly, and he met with the success his perseverance deserved. For the truth of his statement, Mr. Wattles refers to some of our most respectable citizens residing at the west, and I am in hopes that I shall be enabled to receive in time for this publication, a confirmation from one or more of these gentlemen. Be that as it may, I feel confident in the integrity of Mr. Wattles, and can give his statement to the world without a doubt of its truth. The following sketch of his experiments and their results will, undoubtedly, be interesting to every American reader and although some of the profound philosophers of Europe may smile at his method of proceeding, it will in some measure show the innate genius of American minds, and prove that we are not far behind our trans-atlantic brethren in the arts and sciences. Mr. Wattles says: "In my first efforts to effect the desired object, they were feeble indeed, and owing to my limited knowledge of chemistry--wholly acquired by questioning my teachers--I met with repeated failures but following them up with a determined spirit, I at last produced, what I thought very fair samples--but to proceed to my experiments." "I first dipped a quarter sheet of thin white writing paper in a weak solution of caustic (as I then called it) and dried it in an empty box, to keep it in the dark; when dry, I placed it in the camera and watched it with great patience for nearly half an hour, without producing any visible result; evidently from the solution being to weak. I then soaked the same piece of paper in a solution of common potash, and then again in caustic water a little stronger than the first, and when dry placed it in the camera. In about forty-five minutes I plainly percieved the effect, in the gradual darkening of various parts of the view, which was the old stone fort in the rear of the school garden, with the trees, fence, &c. I then became convinced of the practicability of producing beautiful solar pictures in this way; but, alas! my picture vanished and with it, all--no not all--my hopes. With renewed determination I began again by studying the nature of the preparation, and came to the conclusion, that if I could destroy the part not acted upon by the light without injuring that which was so acted upon, I could save my pictures. I then made a strong solution of sal. soda I had in the house, and soaked my paper in it, and then washed it off in hot water, which perfectly fixed the view upon the paper. This paper was very poor with thick spots, more absorbent than other parts, and consequently made dark shades in the picture where they should not have been; but it was enough to convince me that I had succeeded, and that at some future time, when I had the means and a more extensive knowledge of chemistry, I could apply myself to it again. I have done so since, at various times, with perfect success; but in every instance laboring under adverse circumstances." I have very recently learned, that, under the present patent laws of the United States, every foreign patentee is required to put his invention, or discovery, into practical use within eighteen months after taking out his papers, or otherwise forfeit his patent. With regard to Mr. Talbot's Calotype patent, this time has nearly, if not quite expired, and my countrymen are now at perfect liberty to appropriate the art if they feel disposed. From the statement of Mr. Wattles, it will be perceived that this can be done without dishonor, as in the first instance Mr. Talbot had no positive right to his patent. Photography; or sun-painting is divided, according to the methods adopted for producing pictures, into DAGUERREOTYPE, CHROMATYPE, CALOTYPE, ENERGIATYPE, CHRYSOTYPE, ANTHOTYPE and CYANOTYPE, AMPHITYPE. CHAP. II. THE THEORY ON LIGHT.--THE PHOTOGRAPHIC PRINCIPLE Some philosophers contend that to the existence of light alone we owe the beautiful effects produced by the Photogenic art, while others give sufficient reasons for doubting the correctness of the assumption. That the results are effected by a principle associated with light and not by the luminous principle itself, is the most probable conclusion. The importance of a knowledge of this fact becomes most essential in practice, as will presently be seen. To this principle Mr. Hunt gives the name of ENERGIA. THE NATURE of Light is not wholly known, but it is generally believed to be matter, as in its motions it obeys the laws regulating matter. So closely is it connected with heat and electricity that there can be little doubt of their all being but different modifications of the same substance. I will not, however, enter into a statement of the various theories of Philosophers on this head, but content myself with that of Sir Isaac Newton; who supposed rays of light to consist of minute particles of matter, which are constantly emanating from luminous bodies and cause vision, as odoriferous particles, proceeding from certain bodies, cause smelling. The effects of light upon other bodies, and how light is effected by them, involve some of the most important principles, which if properly understood by Daguerreotypists would enable them to improve and correct many of the practical operations in their art. These effects we shall exhibit in this and the following chapters. Before we enter on this subject it will be necessary to become familiar with the DEFINITIONS of some of the terms used in the science of optics. Luminous bodies are of two kinds; those which shine by their own light, and those which shine by reflected light. Transparent bodies are such as permit rays of light to pass through them. Translucent bodies permit light to pass faintly, but without representing the figure of objects seen through them. Opaque bodies permit no light to pass through them, but reflect light. A ray is a line of light. A beam is a collection of parallel rays. A pencil is a collection of converging, or diverging rays. A medium is any space through which light passes. Incident rays are those which fall upon the surface of a body. Reflected rays are those which are thrown off from a body. Parallel rays are such as proceed equally distant from each other through their whole course. Converging rays are such as approach and tend to unite at any one point, as at b. Fig. 3. Diverging rays are those which continue to recede from each other, as at e. Fig. 3. A Focus is that point at which converging rays meet. MOTION OF LIGHT--Rays of light are thrown off from luminous bodies in every direction, but always in straight lines, which cross each other at every point; but the particles of which each ray consists are so minute that the rays do not appear to be impeded by each other. A ray of light passing through an aperture into a dark room, proceeds in a straight line; a fact of which any one may be convinced by going into a darkened room and admitting light only through a small aperture. [Illustration: Fig. 1 (hipho_1.gif)] Light also moves with great velocity, but becomes fainter as it recedes from the source from which it eminates; in other words, diverging rays of light diminish in intensity as the square of the distance increases. For instance let a fig. 1, represent the luminous body from which light proceeds, and suppose three square boards, b. c. d. severally one, four and sixteen square inches in size be placed; b one foot, c two feet, and d four feet from a, it will be perceived that the smallest board b will throw c into shadow; that is, obstruct all rays of light that would otherwise fall on c, and if b were removed c would in like manner hide the light from d--Now, if b recieve as much light as would fall on c whose surface is four times as large, the light must be four times as powerful and sixteen times as powerful as that which would fall on the second and third boards, because the same quantity of light is diffused over a space four and sixteen times greater. These same rays may be collected and their intensity again increased. Rays of light are reflected from one surface to another; Refracted, or bent, as they pass from the surface of one transparent medium to another; and Inflected, or turned from their course, by the attraction of opaque bodies. From the first we derive the principles on which mirrors are constructed; to the second we are indebted for the power of the lenses, and the blessings of sight,--for the light acts upon the retina of the eye in the same manner as on the lens of a camera. The latter has no important bearing upon our subject. When a ray of light falls perpendicularly upon an opaque body, it is reflected bark in the same line in which it proceeds; in this case the reflected ray returns in the same path the incident ray traversed; but when a ray falls obliquely, it is reflected obliquely, that is, it is thrown off in opposite direction, and as far from the perpendicular as was the incident ray, as shown at Fig. 2; a representing the incident ray and b the reflected. The point, or angle c made by the incident ray, at the surface of the reflector e f, with a line c d, perpendicular to that surface, is called the angle of incidence, while the angle formed by the reflected ray b and the perpendicular line d is called the angle of reflection, and these angles are always equal. [Illustration: Fig. 2 (hipho_2.gif)] It is by this reflection of light that objects are made visible; but unless light falls directly upon the eye they are invisible, and are not sensibly felt until after a certain series of operations upon the various coverings and humors of the eye. Smooth and polished surfaces reflect light most powerfully, and send to the eye the images of the objects from which the light proceeded before reflection. Glass, which is transparent--transmitting light--would be of no use to us as a mirror, were it not first coated on one side with a metalic amalgam, which interrupts the rays in their passage from the glass into the air, and throws them either directly in the incident line, or in an oblique direction. The reason why trees, rocks and animals are not all mirrors, reflecting other forms instead of their own, is, that their surfaces are uneven, and rays of light reflected from an uneven surface are diffused in all directions. Parallel rays falling obliquely upon a plane mirror are reflected parallel; converging rays, with the same degree of convergence; and diverging rays equally divergent. Stand before a mirror and your image is formed therein, and appears to be as far behind the glass as you are before it, making the angle of reflection equal to that of incidence, as before stated. The incident ray and the reflected ray form, together, what is called the passage of reflection, and this will therefore make the actual distance of an image to appear as far again from the eye as it really is. Any object which reflects light is called a radiant. The point behind a reflecting surface, from which they appear to diverge, is called the virtual focus. Rays of light being reflected at the same angle at which they fall upon a mirror, two persons can stand in such a position that each can see the image of the other without seeing his own. Again; you may see your whole figure in a mirror half your length, but if you stand before one a few inches shorter the whole cannot be reflected, as the incident ray which passes from your feet into the mirror in the former case, will in the latter fall under it. Images are always reversed in mirrors. Convex mirrors reflect light from a rounded surface and disperse the rays in every direction, causing parallel rays to diverge, diverging rays to diverge more, and converging rays to converge less--they represent objects smaller than they really are--because the angle formed by the reflected ray is rendered more acute by a convex than by a plane surface, and it is the diminishing of the visual angle, by causing rays of light to be farther extended before they meet in a point, which produces the image of convex mirrors. The greater the convexity of a mirror, the more will the images of the objects be diminished, and the nearer will they appear to the surface. These mirrors furnish science with many curious and pleasing facts. Concave mirrors are the reverse of convex; the latter being rounded outwards, the former hollowed inwards--they render rays of light more converging--collect rays instead of dispersing them, and magnify objects while the convex diminishes them. Rays of light may be collected in the focus of a mirror to such intensity as to melt metals. The ordinary burning glass is an illustration of this fact; although the rays of light are refracted, or passed through the glass and concentrated into a focus beneath. When incident rays are parallel, the reflected rays converge to a focus, but when the incident rays proceed from a focus, or are divergent, they are reflected parallel. It is only when an object is nearer to a concave mirror than its centre of concavity, that its image is magnified; for when the object is farther from the mirror, this centre will appear less than the object, and in an inverted position. The centre of concavity in a concave mirror, is an imaginary point placed in the centre of a circle formed by continuing the boundary of the concavity of the mirror from any one point of the edge to another parallel to and beneath it. REFRACTION OF LIGHT:--I now pass to the consideration of the passage of light through bodies. A ray of light failing perpendicularly through the air upon a surface of glass or water passes on in a straight line through the body; but if it, in passing from one medium to another of different density, fall obliquely, it is bent from its direct course and recedes from it, either towards the right or left, and this bending is called refraction; (see Fig. 3, b.) If a ray of light passes from a rarer into a denser medium it is refracted towards a perpendicular in that medium; but if it passes from a denser into rarer it is bent further from a perpendicular in that medium. Owing to this bending of the rays of light the angles of refraction and incidence are never equal. Transparent bodies differ in their power of bending light--as a general rule, the refractive power is proportioned to the density--but the chemical constitution of bodies as well as their density, is found to effect their refracting power. Inflammable bodies possess this power to a great degree. The sines of the angle of incidence and refraction (that is, the perpendicular drawn from the extremity of an arc to the diameter of a circle,) are always in the same ratio; viz: from air into water, the sine of the angle of refraction is nearly as four to three, whatever be the position of the ray with respect to the refracting surface. From air into sulphur, the sine of the angle of refraction is as two to one--therefore the rays of light cannot be refracted whenever the sine of the angle of refraction becomes equal to the radius* of a circle, and light falling very obliquely upon a transparent medium ceases to be refracted; this is termed total reflection. * The RADIUS of a circle is a straight line passing from the centre to the circumference. Since the brightness of a reflected image depends upon the quantity of light, it is quite evident that those images which arise from total reflection are by far the most vivid, as in ordinary cases of reflection a portion of light is absorbed. I should be pleased to enter more fully into this branch of the science of optics, but the bounds to which I am necessarily limited in a work of this kind will not admit of it. In the next chapter, however, I shall give a synopsis of Mr. Hunt's treatise on the "Influence of the Solar Rays on Compound Bodies, with especial reference to their Photographic application"--a work which should be in the hands of every Daguerreotypist, and which I hope soon to see republished in this country. I will conclude this chapter with a brief statement of the principles upon which the Photographic art is founded. SOLAR and Stellar light contains three kinds of rays, viz: 1. Colorific, or rays of color. 2. Calorific, or rays of heat. 3. Chemical rays, or those which produce chemical effects. On the first and third the Photographic principle depends. In explaining this principle the accompanying wood cuts, (figs. 3 and 4) will render it more intelligible. If a pencil of the sun's rays fall upon a prism, it is bent in passing through the transparent medium; and some rays being more refracted than others, we procure an elongated image of the luminous beam, exhibiting three distinct colors, red, yellow and blue, which are to be regarded as primitives--and from their interblending, seven, as recorded by Newton, and shown in the accompanying wood cut. These rays being absorbed, or reflected differently by various bodies, give to nature the charm of color. Thus to the eve is given the pleasure we derive in looking upon the green fields and forests, the enumerable varieties of flowers, the glowing ruby, jasper, topaz, amethist, and emerald, the brilliant diamond, and all the rich and varied hues of nature, both animate and inanimate. [Illustration: Fig. 3 (hipho_3.gif)] Now, if we allow this prismatic spectrum (b. Fig. 3.) to fall upon any surface (as at c.) prepared with a sensitive photographic compound, we shall find that the chemical effect produced bears no relation to the intensity of the light of any particular colored ray, but that, on the contrary, it is dispersed over the largest portion of the spectrum, being most energetic in the least luminous rays, and ever active over an extensive space, where no traces of light can be detected. Fig. 4, will give the student a better idea of this principle. It is a copy of the kind of impression which the spectrum, spoken of, would make on a piece of paper covered with a very sensitive photographic preparation. The white space a. corresponds with the most luminous, or yellow ray, (5, Fig. 3) over limits of which all chemical change is prevented. A similar action is also produced by the lower end of the red ray c; but in the upper portion, however we find a decided change (as at d). The most active chemical change, you will perceive, is produced by the rays above the yellow a; viz. 4, 3, 2 and 1 (as at b) the green (4) being the least active, and the blue (3) and violet (1) rays the most so, the action still continuing far beyond the point b which is the end of the luminous image. [Illustration: Fig. 4 (hipho_4.gif)] Suppose we wish to copy by the Daguerreotype, or Calotype process, any objects highly colored--blue, red and yellow, for instance predominating--the last of course reflects the most light, the blue the least; but the rays from the blue surface will make the most intense impression, whilst the red radiations are working very slowly, and the yellow remains entirely inactive. This accounts for the difficulty experienced in copying bright green foliage, or warmly colored portraits; a large portion of the yellow and red rays entering into the composition of both--and the imperfections of a Daguerreotype portrait of a person with a freckled face depends upon the same cause. A yellow, hazy atmosphere, even when the light is very bright, will effectually prevent any good photographic result--and in the height of summer, with the most sensative process, it not unfrequently happens that the most annoying failures arise from this agency of a yellow medium. A building painted of a yellow color, which may reflect the sun's rays directly into the operator's room will have the same effect. Daguerreotypists, being ignorant of these facts, are very apt to charge their want of success to the plates, or chemicals, or any thing but the real cause; and it would be well to bear these facts constantly in mind and as far as possible avoid them. This, may be accomplished, in a measure, by a choice of location or by having the glass of your windows tinged with blue; or a screen of thin blue paper may be interposed between the light and sitter. In selecting subjects, all striking contrasts in color should be avoided, and sitters for portraits should be cautioned not to wear anything that may produce the effect spoken of--dark dresses always being the best. The action of light both combines and decomposes bodies. For instance, chlorine and hydrogen will remain in a glass vessel without alteration if kept in the dark; but if exposed to the rays of the sun, they immediately enter into combination, and produce hydrochloric acid. On the other hand, if colorless nitric acid be exposed to the sun, it becomes yellow, then changes to red, and oxygen is liberated by the partial decomposition effected by the solar rays. Of the organic substances none are more readily acted upon by light than the various combinations of silver. Of these some are more, and others less sensitive. If Chloride of silver, which is a white precipitate formed by adding chloride of sodium (common salt) to a solution of nitrate of silver, be exposed to diffused light, it speedily assumes a violet tint, and ultimately becomes nearly black. With iodide of silver, bromide of silver, ammonio-nitrate of silver, and other salts of this metal, the result will be much the same. Some bodies, which under the influence of light, undergo chemical changes, have the power of restoring themselves to their original condition in the dark. This is more remarkably displayed in the iodide of platinum, which readily recieves a photogenic image by darkening over the exposed surfaces, but speedily loses it by bleaching in the dark. The ioduret of Daguerre's plate, and some other iodides, exhibit the same peculiarity--This leads us to the striking fact, that bodies which have undergone a change of estate under the influence of day-light have some latent power by which they can renovate themselves. Possibly the hours of night are as necessary to inanimate nature as they are to the animate. During the day, an excitement which we do not heed, unless in a state of disease, is maintained by the influence of light and the hours of repose, during which the equilibrium is restored, are absolutely necessary to the continuance of health. Instead of a few chemical compounds of gold and silver, which at first were alone supposed to be photographic, we are now aware that copper, platinum, lead, nickel, and indeed, probably all the elements, are equally liably to change under the sun's influence. This fact may be of benefit to engravers, for if steel can be made to take photographic impressions, the more laborious process of etching may be dispensed with. In fact, in the latter part of this work, a process is described for etching and taking printed impressions from Daguerreotype plates. As yet this process has produced no decided beneficial results--but future experiments may accomplish some practical discovery of intrinsic value to the art of engraving. A very simple experiment will prove how essential light is to the coloring of the various species comprising the vegetable and animal kingdoms. If we transplant any shrub from the light of day into a dark cellar, we will soon see it lose its bright green color, and become perfectly white. Another effect of light is that it appears to impart to bodies some power by which they more readily enter into chemical combination with others. We have already said that chlorine and hydrogen, if kept in the dark, will remain unaltered; but if the chlorine alone be previously exposed to the sun, the chlorine thus solarised will unite with the hydrogen in the dark. Sulphate of iron will throw down gold or silver from their solutions slowly in the dark; but if either solution be first exposed to sunshine, and the mixture be then made, in the dark, the precipitation takes place instantly. Here is again, evidence of either an absorption of some material agent from the sunbeam, or an alteration in the chemical constitution of the body. It was from understanding these principles and applying them that philosophers were enabled to produce the Calotype, Daguerreotype, &c. For the effects and action of light on the camera, see Chapter V. Some advances have been made towards producing Photographic impressions in color--the impossibility of which some of our best and oldest artists have most pertinaciously maintained. The colored image of the spectrum has been most faithfully copied, ray for ray, on paper spread with the juice of the Cochorus Japonica, (a species of plant) and the fluoride of silver; and on silver plate covered with a thin film of chloride. The day may be still remote when this much to be desired desideratum shall be accomplished in portrait taking; but I am led to hope that future experiments may master the secret which now causes it to be looked upon, by many, as an impossibility. That great advantages have resulted, and that greater still will result from the discovery of the Photographic art, few will deny. The faithful manner in which it copies nature, even to the most minute details, renders it of much value to the painter; but a few minutes sufficing to take a view that formerly would have occupied several days. Its superiority in portraits, over miniature or oil painting has been tacitly acknowledged by the thousands who employ it to secure their own, or a friends likeness, and by the steady increase in the number of artists who are weekly, aye daily springing up in every town and village in the land. CHAP. III. SYNOPSIS OF MR. HUNT'S TREATISE ON "THE INFLUENCE OF THE SOLAR RAYS ON COMPOUND BODIES, WITH ESPECIAL REFERENCE TO THEIR PHOTOGRAPHIC APPLICATION." OXIDE OF SILVER exposed for a few hours to good sunshine, passes into a more decided olive color, than characterises it when first prepared by precipitation from nitrate of silver. Longer exposure renders this color very much lighter, and the covered parts, are found much darker, than those on which the light has acted directly. In some instances where the oxide of silver has been spread on the paper a decided whitening process in some parts, after a few days exposure, is noticed. Oxide of silver dissolved in ammonia is a valuable photographic fluid; one application of a strong solution forming an exceedingly sensitive surface. The pictures on this paper are easily fixed by salt or weak ammonia. NITRATE OF SILVER.--This salt in a state of purity, does not appear to be sensibly affected by light, but the presence of the smallest portion of organic matter renders it exceedingly liable to change under luminous influence. If a piece of nitrated paper is placed upon hot iron, or held near the fire, it will be found that at a heat just below that at which the paper chars, the salt is decomposed. Where the heat is greatest, the silver is revived, and immediately around it, the paper becomes a deep blue; beyond this a pretty decided green color results, and beyond the green, a yellow or yellow brown stain is made. This exhibits a remarkable analogy between heat and light,--before spoken of in chap. II--and is of some practical importance in the preparation of the paper. PRISMATIC ANALYSIS.--The method of accomplishing the prismatic decomposition of rays of light by the spectrum has already been described on pages 22 and 23. The color of the impressed spectrum, on paper washed with nitrate of silver, is at first, a pale brown, which passes slowly into a deeper shade; that portion corresponding with the blue rays becoming a blue brown; and under the violet of a peculiar pinkey shade, a very decided green tint, on the point which corresponds with the least refrangible blue rays, may be observed, its limits of action being near the centre of the yellow ray, and its maximum about the centre of the blue, although the action up to the edge of the violet ray is continued with very little diminution of effect; beyond this point the action is very feeble. When the spectrum is made to act on paper which has been previously darkened, by exposure to sunshine under cupro-sulphate of ammonia, the phenomena are materially different. The photographic spectrum is lengthened out on the red or negative side by a faint but very visible red portion, which extends fully up to the end of the red rays, as seen by the naked eye. The tint of the general spectrum, too, instead of brown is dark grey, passing, however, at its most refracted or positive end into a ruddy brown. In its Photographic application, the nitrate of silver is the most valuable of the salts of that metal, as from it most of the other argentine compounds can be prepared, although it is not of itself sufficiently sensible to light to render it of much use. CHLORIDE OF SILVER.--This salt of silver, whether in its precipitated state, or when fused, changes its color to a fine bluish grey by a very short exposure to the sun's rays. If combined with a small quantity of nitrate, the change is more rapid, it attains a deep brown, then slowly passes into a fine olive, and eventually, after a few weeks, the metalic silver is seen to be revived on the surface of the salt. Great differences of color are produced on chlorides of silver precipitated by different muriates. Nearly every variety in combination with the nitrate, becomes at last of the same olive color, the following examples, therefore, have reference to a few minutes exposure, only, to good sunshine; it must also be recollected that the chloride of silver in these cases is contaminated with the precipitant. Muriate of ammonia precipitates chloride to darken to a fine chocolate brown, whilst muriate of lime produces a brick-red color. Muriates of potash and soda afford a precipitate, which darkens speedily to a pure dark brown, and muriatic acid, or aqueous chlorine, do not appear to increase the darkening power beyond the lilac to which the pure chloride of silver changes by exposure. This difference of color appears to be owing to the admixture of the earth or alkali used with the silver salt. The prismatic impression on paper spread with the chloride of silver is often very beautifully tinted, the intensity of color varying with the kind of muriate used. Spread paper with muriate of ammonia or baryta and you obtain a range of colors nearly corresponding with the natural hues of the prismatic spectrum. Under favorable circumstances the mean red ray, leaves a red impression, which passes into a green over the space occupied by the yellow rays. Above this a leaden hue is observed, and about the mean blue ray, where the action is greatest, it rapidly passes through brown into black, and through the most refrangible rays it gradually declines into a bluish brown, which tint is continued throughout the invisible rays. At the least refrangible end of the spectrum, the very remarkable phenomenon has been observed, of the extreme red rays exerting a protecting influence, and preserving the paper from that change, which it would otherwise undergo, under the influence of the dispersed light which always surrounds the spectrum. Not only the extreme red ray exerts this very peculiar property, but the ordinary red ray through nearly its whole length. In photographic drawing this salt is of the utmost importance. Mr. Talbot's application of it will be given hereafter in another portion of this work. IODIDE OF SILVER--Perfectly pure, undergoes very little change under the influence of light or heat; but if a very slight excess of the nitrate of silver be added it becomes infinitely more sensitive than the chloride. The spectrum impressed upon paper prepared with a weak solution of the hydriodate of potash presents some very remarkable peculiarities. The maximum of intensity is found at the edge of the most refrangible violet rays, or a little beyond it, varying slightly according to the kind of paper used, and the quantity of free nitrate of silver present. The action commences at a point nearly coincident with the mean red of the luminous spectrum, where it gives a dull ash or lead color, while the most refrangible rays impress a ruddy snuff-brown, the change of tint coming on rather suddenly about the end of the blue or beginning of the violet rays of the luminous spectrum. Beyond the extreme violet rays, the action rapidly diminishes, but the darkening produced by these invisible rays, extends a very small space beyond the point at which they cease to act on the chloride of silver. In its photographic application, it is, alone, of very little use; but in combination with other reagents it becomes exquisitely sensitive. With gallic acid and the ferrocyanate of potash it forms two of the most sensitive photographic solutions with which we are acquainted. These are used in the calotype process. IODURET OF SILVER.--If upon a plate of polished silver we place a small piece of iodine, and apply the heat of a lamp beneath the plate for a moment, a system of rings is speedily formed. The first ring, which spreading constantly forms the exterior of the circle, is of a bright yellow color; within this, there arises, successively, rings of green, red and blue colors, and then again a fine yellow circle, centred by a greyish spot on the place occupied by the iodine. On exposing these to the light, the outer yellow circle almost instantly changes color, the others slowly, in the order of their position, the interior yellow circle resisting for a long time the solar influence. These rings must be regarded as films of the ioduret of silver, varying, not only in thickness, but in the more or less perfect states of combination in which the iodine and metal are. The exterior circle is an ioduret in a very loose state of chemical agregation; the attractive forces increase as we proceed towards the centre, where a well formed ioduret, or probably a true iodide of silver, is formed, which is acted upon by sunlight with difficulty. The exterior and most sensitive film constitutes the surface of Daguerreotype plates. The changes which these colored rings undergo are remarkable; by a few minutes exposure to sunlight, an inversion of nearly all the colors takes place, the two first rings becoming a deep olive green; and a deep blue inclining to black. The nature of the change which the ioduret of silver undergoes on Daguerreotype plates, through the action of light, Mr. Hunt considers to be a decided case of decomposition, and cites several circumstances in proof of his position. These with other facts given by Mr. Hunt in his great work on the Photographic art, but to voluminous to include in a volume of the size to which I am obliged to confine myself, should be thoroughly studied by all Daguerreotypists. PRISMATIC ANALYSIS.--The most refrangible portion of the spectrum, (on a Daguerreotype plate) appears, after the plate has been exposed to the vapor of mercury, to have impressed its colors; the light and delicate film of mercury, which covers that portion, assuming a fine blue tint about the central parts, which are gradually shaded off into a pale grey; and this is again surrounded by a very delicate rose hue, which is lost in a band of pure white. Beyond this a protecting influence is powerfully exerted; and notwithstanding the action of the dispersed light, which is very evident over the plate, a line is left, perfectly free from mercurial vapor, and which, consequently, when viewed by a side light, appears quite dark. The green rays are represented by a line of a corresponding tint, considerably less in size than the luminous green rays. The yellow rays appear to be without action, or to act negatively, the space upon which they fall being protected from the mercurial vapor; and it consequently is seen as a dark band. A white line of vapor marks the place of the orange rays. The red rays effect the sensitive surface in a peculiar manner; and we have the mercurial vapor, assuming a molecular arrangement which gives to it a fine rose hue; this tint is surrounded by a line of white vapor, shaded at the lowest extremity with a very soft green. Over the space occupied by the extreme red rays, a protecting influence is again exerted; the space is retained free from mercurial vapor and the band is found to surround the whole of the least refrangible rays, and to unite itself with the band which surrounds the rays of greatest refrangibility. This band is not equally well defined throughout its whole extent. It is most evident from the extreme red to the green; it fades in passing through the blue, and increases again, as it leaves the indigo, until beyond the invisible chemical rays it is nearly as strong as it is at the calorific end of the spectrum. Images on Daguerreotype plates which have been completely obliterated by rubbing may be restored, by placing it in a tolerably strong solution of iodine in water. BROMIDE OF SILVER.--This salt, like the iodide, does not appear to be readily changed by the action of light; but when combined with the nitrate of silver it forms a very sensitive photographic preparation. Paper prepared with this salt, blackens over its whole extent with nearly equal intensity, when submitted to the prismatic spectrum. The most characteristic peculiarity of the spectrum is its extravagant length. Instead of terminating at the mean yellow ray, the darkened portion extends down to the very extremity of the visible red rays. In tint it is pretty uniformly of a grey-black over its whole extent, except that a slight fringe of redness is perceptible at the least refracted end. Beyond the red ray, an extended space is protected from the agency of the dispersed light, and its whiteness maintained; thus confirming the evidence of some chemical power in action, over a space beyond the luminous spectrum, which corresponds with the rays of the least refrangibility. This salt is extensively used in photographic drawing. PREPARATIONS OF GOLD.--Chloride of Gold, freed from an excess of acid is slowly changed under the action of light; a regularly increasing darkness taking place until it becomes purple, the first action of the light being to whiten the paper, which, if removed from the light at this stage, will gradually darken and eventually develope the picture. This process may be quickened by placing the paper in cold water. Chloride of gold with nitrate of silver gives a precipitate of a yellow brown color. Paper impregnated with the acetate of lead, when washed with perfectly neutral chloride of gold, acquires a brownish-yellow hue. The first impression of light seems rather to whiten than darken the paper, by discharging the original color, and substituting for it a pale greyish tint, which by slow degrees increases to a dark slate color; but if arrested, while yet, not more than a moderate ash grey, and held in a current of steam, the color of the parts acted upon by light--and of that only--darkens immediately to a deep purple. Here I must leave the subject of the action of light upon metalic compounds--referring to Mr. Hunts work for any further information the student may desire on the other metals--as I find myself going beyond my limits. I cannot, however, entirely dismiss the subject without giving a few examples of the action of light on the juices of plants, some of which produce very good photographic effect. CORCHORUS JAPONICA--The juice of the flowers of this plant impart a fine yellow color to paper, and, so far as ascertained, is the most sensitive of any vegetable preparation; but owing to its continuing to change color even in the dark, photographic images taken on paper prepared with it soon fade out. WALL FLOWER.--This flower yields a juice, when expressed with alcohol, from which subsides, on standing, a bright yellow finely divided faecula, leaving a greenish-yellow transparent liquid, only slightly colored supernatant. The faecula spreads well on paper, and is very sensitive to light, but appears at the same time to undergo a sort of chromatic analysis, and to comport itself as if composed of two very distinct coloring principles, very differently affected. The one on which the intensity and sub-orange tint of the color depends, is speedily destroyed, but the paper is not thereby fully whitened. A paler yellow remains as a residual tint, and this on continued exposure to the light, slowly darkens to brown. Exposed to the spectrum, the paper is first reduced nearly to whiteness in the region of the blue and violet rays. More slowly, an insulated solar image is whitened in the less refrangible portion of the red. Continue the exposure, and a brown impression begins to be percieved in the midst of the white streak, which darkens slowly over the region between the lower blue and extreme violet rays. THE RED POPPY yields a very beautiful red color, which is entirely destroyed by light. When perfectly dried on paper the color becomes blue. This blue color is speedily discharged by exposure to the sun's rays, and papers prepared with it afford very interesting photographs.-- Future experiments will undoubtedly more fully develope the photogenic properties of flowers, and practically apply them. Certain precautions are necessary in extracting the coloring matter of flowers. The petals of fresh flowers, carefully selected, are crushed to a pulp in a mortar, either alone or with the addition of a little alcohol, and the juice expressed by squeezing the pulp in a clean linen or cotton cloth. It is then to be spread upon paper with a flat brush, and dried in the air. If alcohol be not added, it must be applied immediately, as the air changes or destroys the color instantly. Most flowers give out their coloring matter to alcohol or water--but the former is found to weaken, and in some cases to discharge altogether these colors; but they are in most cases restored in drying. Paper tinged with vegetable colors must be kept perfectly dry and in darkness. To secure an eveness of tint on paper it should be first moistened on the back by sponging, and blotting off with bibulous paper. It should then be pinned on a board, the moist side downwards, so that two of its edges--the right and lower ones--project a little over those of the board. Incline the board twenty or thirty degrees to the horizon, and apply the tincture with a brush in strokes from right to left, taking care not to go over the edges which rests on the board, but to pass clearly over those that project; and also observing to carry the tint from below upwards by quick sweeping strokes, leaving no dry spaces between them. Cross these with other strokes from above downwards, leaving no floating liquid on the paper. Dry as quickly as possible, avoiding, however, such heat as may injure the tint. CHAP. IV. A FEW HINTS AND SUGGESTIONS TO DAGUERREOTYPISTS. There are very few who may not be capable of practising the Photographic art, either on paper, or metalic plates--but, like all other professions, some are more clever in its various processes than others. Impatience is a great drawback to perfect success, and combined with laziness is a decided enemy. Besides this, no one can excel in Photography who does not possess a natural taste for the fine arts, who is not quick in discerning grace and beauty--is regardless of the principles of perspective, foreshortening and other rules of drawing, and who sets about it merely for the sake of gain--without the least ambition to rise to the first rank, both in its practice and theory. There is no profession or trade in which a slovenly manner will not show itself, and none where its effects will be more apparent than this. In order to be great in any pursuit, we must be ourselves, and keep all things, in order. In your show and reception rooms, let neatness prevail; have your specimens so placed--leaning slightly forward--as to obtain the strongest light upon them, and at the same time prevent that glassiness of appearance which detracts so materially from the effect they are intended to produce. If possible, let the light be of a north-western aspect, mellowed by curtains of a semitransparent hue. Your show-cases, at the door, should be kept well cleaned. I have often been disgusted while attempting to examine portraits in the cases of our artists, at the greasy coating and marks of dirty fingers upon the glass and frame enclosing them. Believe it, many a good customer is lost for no other reason. In your operating room, dust should be carefully excluded. It should be furnished with nothing apt to collect and retain dust; a carpet is therefore not only a useless article, but very improper. A bare floor is to be prefered; but if you must cover it use matting. There is no place about your establishment where greater care should be taken to have order and cleanliness; for it will prevent many failures often attributed to other causes. "A place for every thing, and every thing in its place," should be an absolute maxim with all artists. Do not oblige the ladies, on going away from your rooms, to say--"That H. is a slovenly man; see how my dress is ruined by sitting down in a chair that looked as if it had just come out of a porter house kitchen and had not been cleaned for six months." In choosing your operating room, obtain one with a north-western aspect, if possible; and either with, or capable of having attached, a large skylight. Good pictures may be taken without the sky-light, but not the most pleasing or effective. A very important point to be observed, is to keep the camera perfectly free from dust. The operator should be careful to see that the slightest particle be removed, for the act of inserting the plate-holder will set it in motion, if left, and cause those little black spots on the plate, by which an otherwise good picture is spoiled. The camera should be so placed as to prevent the sun shining into the lenses. In taking portraits, the conformation of the sitter should be minutely studied to enable you to place her or him in a position the most graceful and easy to be obtained. The eyes should be fixed on some object a little above the camera, and to one side--but never into, or on the instrument, as some direct; the latter generally gives a fixed, silly, staring, scowling or painful expression to the face. Care should also be taken, that the hands and feet, in whatever position, are not too forward or back ward from the face when that is in good focus. If any large surface of white is present, such as the shirt front, or lady's handkerchief, a piece of dark cloth (a temporary bosom of nankeen is best,) may be put over it, but quickly withdrawn when the process is about two thirds finished. A very pleasing effect is given to portraits, by introducing, behind the sitter, an engraving or other picture--if a painting, avoid those in which warm and glowing tints predominate. The subject of these pictures may be applicable to the taste or occupation of the person whose portrait you are taking. This adds much to the interest of the picture, which is otherwise frequently dull, cold and inanimate. Mr. J. H. Whitehurst of Richmond, Va., has introduced a revolving background, which is set in motion during the operation, and produces a distinctness and boldness in the image not otherwise to be obtained. The effect upon the background of the plate is equally pleasing; it having the appearance of a beautifully clouded sky. In practising Photographic drawing on paper, the student must bear in mind that it is positively essential, to secure success in the various processes, to use the utmost precaution in spreading the solutions, and washes from the combination of which the sensitive surfaces result. The same brush should always be used for the same solution, and never used for any other, and always washed in clean water after having been employed. Any metalic mounting on the brushes should be avoided, as the metal precipitates the silver from its solution. The brushes should be made of camels or badger's hair and sufficiently broad and large to cover the paper in two or three sweeps; for if small ones be employed, many strokes must be given, which leave corresponding streaks that will become visible when submitted to light, and spoil the picture. These few preliminary hints and suggestions, will, I trust, be of some service to all who adopt this pleasing art as a profession; and will, with a due attention to the directions given in the practical working of the Daguerreotype, Calotype, etc., ensure a corresponding measure of success. CHAP. V. DAGUERREOTYPE APPARATUS. The entire Daguerreotype process is comprised in seven distinct operations; viz: 1.--Cleaning and polishing the plate. 2.--Applying the sensitive coating. 3--Submitting the plate to the action of light in the camera. 4.--Bringing out the picture; in other words rendering it visible. 5.--Fixing the image, or making it permanent--so that the light may no longer act upon it. 6.--Gilding: or covering the picture with a thin film of gold--which not only protects it, but greatly improves its distinctness and tone of color. 7.--Coloring the picture. For these various operations the following articles--which make up the entire apparatus of a Daguerrean artist--must be procured 1.--THE CAMERA.--(Fig. 5.). The Camera Obscura of the Italian philosophers, although highly appreciated, on account of the magical character of the pictures it produced, remained little other than a scientific toy, until the discovery of M. Daguerre. The value of this instrument is now great, and the interest of the process which it so essentially aids, universally admitted. A full description of it will therefore be interesting. [Illustration: Fig. 5 (hipho_5.gif)] The camera is a dark box (a), having a tube with lenses (b) placed in one end of it, through which the radiations from external objects pass, and form a diminished picture upon the ground glass (g) placed at the proper distance in the box to receive it; the cap c covering the lenses at b until the plate is ready to receive the image of the object to be copied. Thus a (fig. 6.) representing the lens, and b the object desired to be represented, the rays (c, c) proceeding from it fall upon the lens, and are transmitted to a point, which varies with the curvature of the glass, where an inverted image (d) of b is very accurately formed. At this point, termed the focus, the sensitive photographic material is placed for the purpose of obtaining the required picture. [Illustration: Fig. 5 (hipho_6.gif)] The great desideratum in a photographic camera is perfect lenses. They should be achromatic, and the utmost transparency should be obtained; and under the closest inspection of the glass not the slightest wavy appearance, or dark spot should be detected; and a curvature which as much as possible prevents spherical aberration should be secured. The effect produced by this last defect is a convergence of perpendiculars, as for instance; two towers of any building, would be represented as leaning towards each other; and in a portrait the features would seem contracted, distorted and mingled together, so as to throw the picture out of drawing and make it look more like a caricature than a likeness. If the lens be not achromatic, a chromatic aberration takes place, which produces an indistinct, hazy appearance around the edges of the picture, arising from the blending of the rays. The diameter and focal length of a lens must depend in a great measure on the distance of the object, and also on the superficies of the plate or paper to be covered. For portraits one of 1 1/2 inches diameter, and from 4 1/2 to 5 1/2 inches focus may be used; but for distant views, one from 2 inches to 3 inches diameter, and from 8 to 12 inches focal length will answer much better. For single lenses, the aperture in front should be placed at a distance from it, corresponding to the diameter, and of a size not more than one third of the same. A variety of movable diaphragms or caps, to cover the aperture in front, are very useful, as the intensity of the light may be modified by them and more or less distinctness and clearness of delineation obtained. These caps alway come with Voitlander instruments and should be secured by the purchaser. Though the single acromatic lens answers very well for copying engravings; taking views from nature or art, for portraits the double should always be used. The extensive manufacture of the most approved cameras, both in Europe and in this country, obviates all necessity for any one attempting to construct one for their own use. Lenses are now made so perfect by some artisans that, what is called the "quick working camera" will take a picture in one second, while the ordinary cameras require from eight to sixty. The camera in most general use is that manufactured by Voitlander and Son of Germany. Their small size consists of two seperate acromatic lenses; the first, or external one, has a free aperture of 1 1/2 inches; the second, or internal, 1 5/8 inches; and both have the same focus, viz: 5 3/4 inches. The larger size differs from the smaller. The inner lens is an achromatic 3 1/4 inches diameter, its focal length being 30 inches. The outer lens is a meniscus--that is bounded by a concave and convex spherical surface which meet--having a focal length of 18 inches. For every distant view, the aperture in front is contracted by a diaphram to 1/8 of an inch. By this means the light is reflected with considerable intensity and the clearness and correctness of the pictures are truly surprising. THE AMERICA instruments are constructed on the same principle and many of them are equally perfect. Mr. Edward Anthony of 205 Broadway, New York city, has constructed, and sold cameras fully equal to the German and for which Voitlander instruments have been refused in exchange by the purchaser. The ordinary camera box (see fig. 5, a) varies in size to suit the tube, and is termed medium, half, or whole. Within the box is a slide to assist in regulating the focus, and in enlarging or diminishing the picture. In one end of this slide is a springed groove into which the ground-glass spectrum (g fig. 5) is slid, for the purpose of more conveniently arranging the focus. After the plate is prepared it is placed in the holder--partly seen at e, fig. 5, and covered with the dark slide f, fig. 5; the spectrum is then withdrawn and the holder takes its place, and the lids d, d, are closed after removing the dark slide f. The plate is now ready to receive the image, and the cap c may be removed to admit the light into the box. A camera constructed by Voitlander is thus described by Mr. Fisher. "It is made entirely of brass, so that variations of climate has no effect upon it. It is very portable and when packed in its box, with all the necessary apparatus and materials for practising the Daguerreotype art, occupies but very little space. It is not, however, well adapted for the Calotype process." [Illustration: Fig. 7 (hipho_7.gif)] "The brass foot A (fig. 7.), is placed on a table, or other firm support, and the pillar B. screwed into it; the body of the camera, C, C is laid into the double forked bearing D. D. The instrument is now properly adjusted by means of the set screws, e, e, e, in the brass foot, or it may be raised, lowered, or moved, by the telescope stand, and when correct, fixed by the screw b. The landscape to be delineated is viewed either through the small lens, g, or with the naked eye on the ground glass plate H, the focus being adjusted by the screw I. The optical part of the instrument consist of the small set of achromatic lenses already described. When the portrait or view is deliniated on the ground glass to the entire satisfaction of the operator, the brass cap L is placed over the lens, and the entire body is removed away into the dark, taking care not to disturb the position of the stand. The body is now detached at the part H, and the prepared paper or plate enclosed in the brass frame work introduced in its place; the whole is again placed upon the pedestal, the brass cap L is removed, by which the paper or plate is exposed to the full influence of the light, after which the cap is again replaced. Mr. Woodbridge, of this city, has constructed an instrument for taking full length portraits on plates 10 by 13 inches, which is worthy of some notice. It is a double camera, consisting of two boxes, placed in a frame, one above the other, and so arranged as to slide easily up and down. After the focus has been adjusted, on the object, in both cameras, the plate is put into the upper box, in the manner already described, until the superior portion of the figure is complete; it is then placed in the second box and the lower extremities obtained. The adjustment of the instrument is so complete that a perfect union of the parts is effected in the picture without the least possible line of demarkation being visible. Fig. 8 gives a front view of this instrument. [Illustration: Fig. 8 (hipho_8.gif)] Fig. 9 represents Talbot's Calotype Camera,--a very beautiful instrument. The copying camera box has an extra slide in the back end, by which it may be considerably lengthened at pleasure. II.--CAMERA STAND.--The best constructed stands are made of maple or black walnut wood, having a cast iron socket (a, Fig. 12,) through which the sliding rod b passes, and into which the legs c, c, with iron screw ferules are inserted. The platform d is made of two pieces, hinged together, as at e, and having a thumb screw for the purpose of elevating or depressing the instrument. [Illustration: Fig. 9 (hipho_9.gif)] III. MERCURY BATH.--Fig. 13 gives a front view of the mercury bath now in general use in this country for mercurializing and bringing out the picture. It is quite an improvement on those first used. To make it more portable it is in three pieces, a b and c; having a groove e on one side to receive the thermometre tube and scale by which the proper degree of heating the mercury is ascertained. Into the top are nicely fitted two or three iron frames, with shoulders, for the plate to rest in, suitable for the different sizes of plates. The bath is heated by means of a spirit lamp placed under it. From two to four ounces of highly purified mercury are put into the bath at a time. IV. PLATE BLOCKS AND VICES.--There are several kinds of this article in use; I shall describe the two best only. [Illustration: Fig. 10 (hipho_10.gif)] Fig. 10 gives an idea of the improvement on the English hand block. The top a is perfectly flat and smooth--a little smaller than the plate, so as to permit the latter to project a very little all around--having at opposite angles c c two clasps, one fixed the other moveable, but capable of being fastened by the thumb screw d, so as to secure the plate tightly upon the block. This block turns upon a swivle, b, which is attached to the table by the screw c, This block is only used for holding the plate while undergoing the first operation in cleaning. [Illustration: Fig. 11 (hipho_11.gif)] Fig. 11, shows the form of Lewis' newly patented plate vice, which for durability, simplicity and utility is preferable to all others. It consists of a simple platform and arm of cast iron, the former, a, having a groove, d, in the centre for fixing the different sizes of plate beds, e--and the latter supporting the leaves, e f. On this vice which is secured to a table, or bench, the plate receives its finishing polish with rouge, or prepared lampblack. Mr. Lewis gives the following directions for its use. "As the cam wears tighten it with the adjusting screw (g) so as to allow the lever (f) to fall back into a horizontal position; the plate being in its place at the time. Oil the wearing parts occasionally." Some Daguerreotypists, however, use a foot lathe with buff wheels of various forms; but this vice is sufficient for all ordinary purposes. [Illustration: Fig. 12 (hipho_12.gif)] [Illustration: Fig. 13 (hipho_13.gif)] V. COATING BOXES.--The usual form for iodine and bromine boxes is see, at figs. 14 and 15. They are far superior to those in use with the English operators. Each consists of a wooden box (a,) having firmly embeded within it a stout glass jar (c), the edges of which are ground. Over this is placed the sliding cover b, double the length of the box, one half occupied by a piece of ground glass (e), tightly pressed upon the glass pot by a spring (i) beneath the cross bar g, and fits the pot so accurately that it effectually prevents the escape of the vapor of the iodine, bromine or other accelerating liquid contained therein. The other half of the lid is cut through, shoulders being left at the four angles for the different sizes of frames, designed to recieve the plate while undergoing the coating process. When the plate is put into the frame, the cover b is shoved under the second lid h and when coated to the proper degree, it resumes its former position and the plate is placed in the holder of the camera box. To test the tightness of the box, light a piece of paper, put it into the pot and cover it with the sliding lid. The burning paper expels the air from the pot, and if it be perfectly tight you may raise the whole box by the lid. VI. GLASS FUNNELS.--Are a necessary article to the Daguerreotypist, for filtering water, solutions, &c. [Illustration: Fig. 14 (hipho_14.gif)] VII. GILDING STAND.--For nervous persons the gilding stand is a useful article. It is adjusted to a perfect level by thumb screws placed in its base. VIII. SPIRIT LAMPS.--The most useful and economical of those made are the Britania, as they are less liable to break; and the tube for the wick being fastened to the body by a screw renders it less liable to get out of order or explode. Glass is the cheapest, and for an amateur will do very well, but for a professed artist the Britania should always be obtained. IX. COLOR BOX.--These are generally found on sale at the shops, and usually contain eight colors, four brushes and a gold cup. The artist would, however, do well to obtain, all the colors mentioned in the last chapter of this work, and be sure to get the very best, as there are various qualities of the same color, particularly carmine, which is very expensive, and the cupidity of some may induce them to sell a poor article for the sake of larger profits. [Illustration: Fig. 15 (hipho_15.gif)] STILL.--Daguerreotypists should always use distilled water for solutions, and washing the plate, as common water holds various substances in solution which detract very materially from the excellence of a photograph, and often gives much trouble, quite unaccountable to many. For the purpose of distilling water the apparatus represented at Fig. 16 is both convenient and economical. It may be either wholly of good stout tin, or of sheet iron tinned on the inside, and may be used over a common fire, or on a stove. A is the body, which may be made to hold from one to four gallons of water, which is introduced at the opening b, which is then stopped by a cork. The tube d connects the neck a of the still with the worm tub, or refrigerator B, at e, which is kept filled with cold water by means of the funnel c, and drawn off as fast as it becomes warm by the cock f. The distilled water is condensed in the worm--and passes off at the cock b, under which a bottle, or other vessel, should be placed to receive it. The different joints are rendered tight by lute, or in its absence, some stiff paste spread upon a piece of linen and wrapped around them will answer very well; an addition of sealing wax over all will make them doubly secure. [Illustration: Fig. 16 (hipho_16.gif)] HYGROMETER.--This is an instrument never to be found, I believe, in the rooms of our operators, although it would be of much use to them, for ascertaining the quantity of moisture floating about the room; and as it is necessary to have the atmosphere as dry as possible to prevent an undue absorption of this watery vapor by the iodine &c., and to procure good pictures,--its detection becomes a matter of importance. Mason's hygrometer, manufactured by Mr. Roach and sold by Mr. Anthony, 205 Broadway, New York is the best in use. It consists of two thermometre tubes placed, side by side, on a metalic scale, which is graduated equally to both tubes. The bulb of one of these tubes communicates, by means of a net-work of cotton, with a glass reservoir of water attached to the back of the scale. Fig. 17 and 18 represent a front and back view of this instrument. Fig. 17 is the front view, showing the tubes with their respective scales; the bulb b being covered with the network of cotton communicating with the reservoir c fig. 18, at d. [Illustration: Fig. 17 (hipho_17.gif)] [Illustration: Fig. 18 (hipho_18.gif)] The evaporation of the water from this bulb decreases the temperature of the mercury in the tube b in proportion to the dryness of the atmosphere, and the number of degrees the tube b indicates below that of the other, shows the real state of the atmosphere in the room; for instance, if b stands at forty and a at sixty-one the room is in a state of extreme dryness, the difference of twenty-one degrees between the thermometers--let a stand at any one point--gives this result. If they do not differ, or there is only four or five degrees variation, the atmosphere of the room is very moist and means should be taken to expel the superfluous quantity. HEAD RESTS.--The button head rest with chair back clip, A fig. 19--is much the best for travelling artists, as it can be taken apart, into several pieces and closely packed; is easily and firmly fixed to the back of a chair by the clamp and screw a and b, and is readily adjusted to the head, as the buttons c, c and arms d, d are movable. Sometimes the button rest is fixed to a pole, which is screwed to the chair; but this method is not so secure and solid as the clip and occupies more room in packing. Both the pole and clip, are furnished in some cases with brass band rests instead of the button; but the only recommendation these can possibly possess in the eyes of any artist, is their cheapness. [Illustration: Fig. 19 (hipho_19.gif)] For a Daguerreotypist permanently located the independent iron head-rest, B fig. 19, is the most preferable, principally on account of its solidity. It is entirely of iron, is supported by a tripod (a) of the same metal and can be elevated by means of a rod (b) passing through the body of the tripod, to a height sufficient for a person, standing, to rest against. [Illustration: Fig. 20 (hipho_20.gif)] GALVANIC BATTERY.--This article is used for the purpose of giving to imperfectly coated plates a thicker covering of silver. The form of battery now most universally employed for electrotype, and other galvanic purposes, is Smee's--Fig. 20. It consists of a piece of platinized silver, A, on the top of which is fixed a beam of wood, B, to prevent contact with the silver. A binding screw C is soldered on to the silver plate to connect it with any desired object, by means of the copper wire, e. A plate of amalgamated zinc, D, varying with the fancy of the operator from one half to the entire width of the silver is placed on each side of the wood. This is set into a glass vessel, P,--the extreme ends of the wood resting upon its edge--on which the acid with which it is charged has no effect. The jar is charged with sulphuric acid, (common oil of vitriol) diluted in eight parts its bulk of water. The zinc plates of the battery have been amalgamated with quicksilver, and when the battery is set into the jar of acid there should be no action percieved upon them when the poles F, G, are not in contact. Should any action be percieved, it indicates imperfect amalgamation; this can be easily remedied by pouring a little mercury upon them immediately after removing them from the acid, taking care to get none upon the centre plate A. Directions for use.--A sheet of silver must be attached to the wire connected with the centre plate A of the battery, and placed in the silver solution--prepared as directed below. The plate to be silvered is first cleaned with diluted sulphuric acid, and then attached to the wire, G, proceeding from the zinc plates D, D, and placed in the silver solution, opposite the silver plate attached to the pole F, and about half an inch from it. A slight effervescence will now be percieved from the battery, and the silver will be deposited upon the Daguerreotype plate, while at the same time a portion of the silver plate is dissolved. To prepare the solution of silver.--Dissolve one ounce of chloride of silver in a solution of two ounces of cyanide of potassium, previously dissolved in one quart of water. The oxide of silver may be used instead of the chloride. This solution is put into a tumbler, or other vessel. [Illustration: Fig. 21 (hipho_21.gif)] [Illustration: Fig. 22 (hipho_22.gif)] This battery with the necessary articles for using it may be obtained of E. Anthony, 205 Broadway, New York city. The other articles required by every operator may be simply enumerated, viz: Sticking, or sealing paper. A pair of pliers, or forceps. Porcelain pans or dishes, for applying the hyposulphite of soda and washing after the imagine is fixed, something in form like fig. 23. A support for holding the plate while being washed, like fig. 24. [Updater's note: Figures 23 and 24 were missing from the image set.] [Illustration: Fig. 25 (hipho_25.gif)] BUFF STICKS.--Fig. 25.--These are usually from one to three feet in length, and about three inches wide--some think two and a half sufficient. The underside, which is convex, is covered with a strip of finely prepared buckskin, or velvet, well padded with cotton or tow. All the articles enumerated in this chapter may be obtained, of the very best quality and at the most reasonable rates, of Mr. E. Anthony, 205, Broadway, New York. CHAP. VI. THE DAGUERREOTYPE PROCESS. The process of taking Daguerreotype pictures differs very materially from all others of the photographic art, inasmuch as the production of the image is effected upon plates of copper coated with silver. The silver employed should be as pure as possible; the thickness of the plate is of little consequence, provided there be sufficient silver to bear the cleaning and polishing--is free from copper spots, is susceptible of a high polish, an exquisitely sensitive coating and a pleasing tone. These qualities are possessed to an eminent degree by the French plates. Having already enumerated the various processes--and the apparatus necessary for the manipulation, I will here give a list of the chemicals to be used, and then proceed to explain them more fully. The requisite chemicals are-- NITRIC ACID, ROUGE, DRY IODINE, MERCURY, DRYING POWDER, HYPOSULPHITE OF SODA, CYANIDE OF POTASSIUM, CHLORIDE OF GOLD; OR ROTTENSTONE, HYPOSULPHITE OF GOLD. TRIPOLI, CHLORIDE OF SILVER. CHLORIDE OF IODINE, } their compounds, or other BROMINE } accelerating mixtures. FIRST OPERATION.--Cleaning and polishing the plate.--For this purpose the operator will require the-- Plate Blocks, Plate Vice Spirit Lamp, Polishing Buffs, Nitric Acid, diluted in fifteen times its bulk of water Galvanic Battery, to galvanize the plate, if it is too imperfect to be used without, previous cleaning it, as directed in the last chapter. Rottenstone, Tripoli, which is too often dispensed with. Rouge, or lampblack--the first being most preferable. The English operators mix the two together. Prepared cotton Wool, or Canton flannel. If the first is used, it should be excluded from the dust, as it is not so easily cleansed as the latter. The plate is secured, with its silver side upward, to the block, by the means described on page 58--having previously turned the edges backward all around. The amount of cleaning a plate requires, depends upon the state it is in. We will suppose one in the worst condition; dirty, scratched, and full of mercury spots, all of which imperfections are more or less to be encountered. The mercury spots are to be removed by burning the plate. To do this hold the plate over the flame of a spirit lamp, more particularly under the mercury spots, until they, assume a dull appearance, when the lamp is to be removed, and the plate allowed to cool, after which it is attached to the block. Place the block upon the swivle, and hold it firmly with the left hand; take a small knot or pellet of cotton, or, if you like it better, a small piece of canton flannel--wet it with a little diluted nitric acid; then sift some finely prepared rottenstone--Davie's,* if you can get it--upon it, and rub it over the plate with a continual circular motion, till all traces of the dirt and scratches are removed; then wipe off the rottenstone with a clean piece of cotton, adopting, as before, a slight circular motion, at the same time wiping the edges of the plate. Even the back should not be neglected, but throughly cleansed from any dirt or greasy film it may have received from handling. * Sold by E. Anthony. When this is thoroughly accomplished, mix a portion of your tripoli with the dilute nitric acid, to the consistence of thick cream. Then take a pellet of cotton and well polish the plate with this mixture, in the same manner as with the rottenstone. Continue the process till, on removing the tripoli with a clean pellet, the plate exhibits a clear, smooth, bright surface, free from all spots, or scratches. Any remains of the acid on the plate may be entirely removed By sifting on it a little Drying powder, and then wiping it carefully off with a fine camels hair brush, or duster. The finishing polish is now to be given. For this purpose the rouge--or a mixture of rouge and lamp-black, in the proportion of one part of the former to seven of the latter--is used. It should be kept either in a muslin bag, or wide mouth bottle, over which a piece of muslin is tied--in fact, both the rottenstone and tripoli should be preserved from the dust in the same manner. With a little of this powder spread over the buff--described on page 53--the plate recieves its final polish; the circular motion is changed for a straight one across the plate, which, if intended for a portrait, should be buffed the narrow way; but if, for a landscape or view of a house, the length way of the plate. The operation of cleaning the plate at first appears difficult and tedious, and many have been deterred from attempting this interesting art on that account; but, in reality, it is more simple in practice than in description, and with a little patience and observation, all difficulties are easily overcome. Great care must be taken to keep the buff free from all extraneous matter, and perfectly dry, and when not in use it should be wrapped up in tissue paper, or placed in a tight box. The plate should be buffed immediately before the sensitive coating is given; particles of dust are thus effectually removed; the temperature of the plate is also increased by the friction, and the required tint more readily obtained. SECOND OPERATION.--Applying the sensative coating.--The apparatus and chemicals required, are an Iodine box--see fig. 14 page 53. Bromine box--similar to the iodine box but a trifle deeper. Dry Iodine. Bromine, or a compound of Bromine and Chloride of Iodine, or other sensitive mixture. Most of our best operators use the compound Bromine and Chloride of Iodine. In the early days of the Daguerreotype, Iodine alone was used in preparing the plate, and although it still plays a very important part, other preparations, called accelerating liquids, quickstuff, &c., are used, and the discovery of which has alone ensured the application of the Daguerreotype successfully to portrait taking--for when first introduced among us it took from five to ten minutes to produce a tolerable good view, while now but the fraction of a minute is required to obtain an accurate likeness. To iodize the plate perfectly it must be placed over the iodine vapor immediately after buffing. Scatter from a sixteenth to the eighth of an ounce of dry iodine over the bottom of your coating box, and slightly cover it with cotton wool. The plate is then dropped into the frame b, fig. 12, with its silvered surface downward, and thrust under the lid h. The bright surface of the plate is soon coated with a film of iodine of a fine yellow color; it is then removed and placed over the accelerating solution. It is not absolutely necessary to perform this operation in the dark, although a bright light should be avoided. Not so the next part of the process, viz; giving the plate its extreme sensitiveness, or coating with the accelerating liquids. In this great caution should be used to prevent the slightest ray of light impringing directly on the plate, and in examining the color reflected light should always be used. A convenient method of examining the plate, is to make a small hole in the partition of the closet in which you coat, and cover it with a piece of tissue paper; by quickly turning the plate so that the paper is reflected upon it the color is very distinctly shown. Most of our operators are not so particular in this respect as they should be. ACCELERATING LIQUID.--Of these there are several kinds, which differ both in composition and action--some acting very quickly, others giving a finer tone to the picture although they are not so expeditious in there operations; or in other words, not so sensitive to the action of light. These are adopted by Daguerreotypists according to their tastes and prejudices. They are all applied in the same way as the coating of iodine. The following are the best. Bromine water--This solution is much used in France, and, I shall therefore give its preparation, and the method of using it, in the words of M. Figeau. "Put into a bottle of pure water, a large excess of bromine; shake the mixture well, and before using it, let all the bromine be taken up. An ascertained quantity of this saturated water is then diluted in a given quantity of distilled water, which gives a solution of bromine that is always identical." M. Figeau recommends one part of the saturated solution to thirty parts its bulk of water; but M. Lesebour finds it more manageable if diluted with forty times. In case pure distilled, or rain water cannot be procured, a few drops of nitric acid--say six to the quart--should be added to the common water. Put into the bromine box a given quantity of this solution, sufficient to well cover the bottom; the plate, having been iodized to a deep yellow, is placed over it; the time the plate should be exposed must be ascertained by making a few trials; it averages from twelve to forty seconds. When once ascertained, it is the same for any number of plates, as the solution, which of course would become weaker and weaker, is changed after every operation, the same quantity being always put into the pot. Chloride of Iodine.--This is prepared by introducing chlorine gass into a glass vessel containing iodine; the iodine is liquified, and the above named compound is the result. Operators need not, however, be at the trouble and expense of preparing it, as it can be obtained perfectly pure of Mr. Anthony, 205 Broadway, N. Y., as also all of the chemicals herein enumerated. The compound is diluted with distilled water, and the plate submitted to its action till it is of a rose color. Chloride of iodine alone, is seldom if ever used now by American operators, as it does not sufficiently come up to their locomotive principle of progression. The next is also eschewed by the majority, although many of our best artists use no other, on account of the very fine tone it gives to pictures. Bromide of Iodine.--This is a compound of bromine and chloride of iodine. In mixing it, much depends upon the strength of the ingredients; an equal portion of each being generally used. Perhaps the best method of preparing it, is to make a solution in alcohol of half an ounce of chloride of iodine, and add the bromine drop by drop, until the mixture becomes of a dark red color; then dilute with distilled water, till it assumes a bright yellow. Put about half an ounce of this compound into the pot, and coat over it to a violet color, change the solution when it becomes too weak to produce the desired effect. Another.--Mix half an ounce of bromine with one ounce of chloride of iodine, add two quarts pure distilled water, shake it well and let it stand for twelve hours then add twenty-five drops of muriatic acid, and let it stand another twelve hours, occasionally shaking it up well. Dilute six parts of this solution in sixteen of water. Coat over dry iodine to a deep yellow, then over the sensitive to a deep rose color--approaching purple--then back, over dry iodine from four to eight seconds. Roach's Tripple Compound.--This is one of the very best sensitive solutions, and is very popular among Daguerreotypists. To use this, take one part in weight, say one drachm, of the compound and dilute it with twelve of water; coat over dry iodine to yellow, then over the compound to a rosy red. The effect in the camera is quick, and produces a picture of a fine white tone. Gurney's Sensitive.--This is another preparation of bromine, and gives a fine tone. To two parts of water add one of the sensitive, and put just sufficient in the box to cover the bottom, or enable you to coat in from eight to ten seconds. Coat over dry iodine to a dark yellow, and over the quick till you see a good change, then back over the dry iodine from two to three seconds. Bromide of Lime, or Dry Sensitive.--This is a compound but recently introduced, and is becoming somewhat of it favorite, owing principally to the slight trouble it gives in its preparation, and the tone it imparts to the picture. To prepare it, fill your jar about half or quarter full of dry slacked lime, then drop into it bromine, till it becomes a bright orange red. The plate is generally coated over this compound, after the iodine coating to yellow, to a violet, or plum color; but it will work well under any circumstances, the color being of little consequence, if coated from thirty to ninety seconds, according to its strength. Mead's Accelerator.--I merely mention this as being in the market, not knowing any thing in regard to its merits. The directions given for its use are as follows: Mix one-third of a bottle with a wine glass full of water, coat the plate over dry iodine to a dark gold color, then over the accelerator to a violet, then back over dry iodine, or chloride of iodine, from three to five seconds. Chloride of Bromine.--M. Bissou, a French experimentalist, has found that bromine associated with chlorine, prepared in a similar manner to chloride of iodine, already described, a solution of bromine being substituted for the iodine, is a very sensitive solution; by means of it daguerreotype proofs are obtained in half a second, and, thus very fugitive subjects are represented, making it the very best compound for taking children. So quick is its operation, that even persons or animals may be taken in the act of walking. Hungarian Liquid.--This, I believe, has never been used here, or imported into this country, and the composition of it is not generally known, even in Europe, where it has taken precedence of all others. It acts quickly and with considerable certainty. It is used by diluting it with from ten to fifteen times its bulk of water, putting a sufficient quantity into the jar to cover the bottom. The plate being previously iodized to a light yellow, is submitted to this mixture till it assumes a light rose tint. Bromine and Fluoric Acid, in combination, are used by some Daguerrean artists as a sensitive, but any of the above compounds are better; besides this, the fluoric acid is a dangerous poison, and the quick made from it will not repay the risk to the health in using it. As I have before said, great caution should be observed in examining the color of the plate, even by the feeble light allowed, which, when attained, must be immediately placed in the holder belonging to the camera and covered with the dark slide. You then pass to the THIRD OPERATION.--Submitting the Plate to the action of Light in the Camera.--Experience alone must guide the operator as to the time the plate should be exposed to the influence of the light; this being dependent on a variety of circumstances, as clearness of the atmosphere--and here, a reference to the hygrometer will be of advantage--time of day, object to be taken, and the degree of sensitiveness imparted to the plate by the quickstuff. As I have before said, the artist should be careful to see that the interior of the camera is clean and free from dust, as the small particles flying about, or set in motion by the sliding of the holder into the box, attach themselves to the plate, and cause the little black spots, by which an otherwise good picture is frequently spoiled. Care should also be taken in withdrawing the dark slide, in front of the plate, from the holder, as the same effect may be produced by a too hasty movement. The lens is the last thing to be uncovered, by withdrawing the cap c. fig. 5., which should not be done until you have placed the sitter in the most desirable position. When, according to the judgment and experience of the operator, the plate has remained long enough to receive a good impression, the cap is replaced over the lens, and the dark slide over the plate, which is then removed from the camera. Daguerreotypists generally mark time by their watches, arriving at the nearest possible period for producing a good picture by making several trials. As a ready method of marking short intervals of time is, however, a very important consideration, and as any instrument which will enable an artist to arrive at the exact period, must be an improvement, and worthy of universal adoption, I will here describe one invented by Mr. Constable of England, which he calls a Sand Clock, or Time Keeper.--"It consists of a glass tube, about twelve inches long, by one in diameter, half filled with fine sand, similar to that used for the ordinary minute glasses, and, like them, it has a diaphram, with a small hole in the centre through which the sand runs. The tube is attached to a board which revolves on a centre pin; on the side is a graduated scale, divided into half seconds; the tube is also provided with a moveable index. This instrument is attached, in a conspicuous place, to the wall. The glass tube being revolved on its centre, the index is set to the number of half seconds required, and the sand running down, the required time is marked without the possibility of error. In practice it will be found to be a far more convenient instrument for the purpose than either a clock or a seconds watch, and is applicable both for the camera and mercury box." If the artist finds it desirable or necessary to take the object to be copied in its right position, that is reverse the image on the spectrum, he can do so by attaching a mirror (which may be had of Mr. Anthony, or Mr. Roach) to the camera tube, at an angle of forty-five degrees. If, after taking the plate from the camera, it be examined, no picture will yet be visible, but this is brought about by the FOURTH PROCESS.--Bringing out the Picture, or rendering it Visible.--We now come to the use of the mercury bath, Fig. 11. To the bath a thermometer is attached, to indicate the proper degree of beat required, which should never be raised above 170 deg. Fahrenheit. The plate maybe put into one of the frames (see Fig. 11,) over the mercury, face downwards, and examined from time to time, by simply raising it with the fingers, or a pair of plyers. This operation, as well as the others, should take place in the dark closet. [Illustration: Fig. 26 (hipho_26.gif)] [Updater's note: hipho_26.gif and hipho27.gif are both captioned Figure 27.] Sometimes, to prevent the necessity of raising the plate, an additional cover or top is made use of. It consists of a box fitted closely to the inner rim of the bath, and having an inclined top (a, Fig. 27.) The top is cut through and fitted with frames for each size of plate, like those already described, and in the back is a piece of glass (b,) through which to view the progress of mercurialization, and an additional piece (c,) on one side, colored yellow, to admit the light. The outline only of the top is here given, in order to show every portion of it at one view. The picture, being fully developed, is now taken out and examined; it must not, however, be exposed to too strong a light. If any glaring defects be perceived, it is better not to proceed with it, but place it on one side to be re-polished; if, on the contrary, it appears perfect, you may advance to the FIFTH OPERATION.--Fixing the Image so that the light can no longer act upon it.--The following articles are required for this purpose: Two or three porcelain or glass dishes, in form, something like fig. 24. A plate support, fig. 25. Few, I believe, now make use of this, although it is a very convenient article. Hyposulphite of Soda, A pair of Plyers. In Europe, they also use a drying apparatus, Fig. 27, but this, like the plate support, is a matter of little consequence, and may be dispensed with. I will, however, describe it, for the benefit of those who may wish to use it. [Illustration: Fig. 27 (hipho_27.gif)] [Updater's note: hipho_26.gif and hipho27.gif are both captioned Figure 27.] A vessel made of copper or brass, tinned inside, and large enough to take in the largest plate, but not more than half an inch wide, is the most convenient. It must be kept perfectly clean. Hot distilled water is poured into it, and the temperature kept up by a spirit lamp. Hyposulphite of Soda.--Having made a solution of hyposulphite of soda, and well filtered it--the strength is immaterial; about half an ounce of the salt to a pint of distilled water is sufficient--pour it into one of the porcelain dishes, put into another plain, and into a third distilled water. Immerse the plate with its face downwards into the hyposulphite, and the whole of the sensitive is removed, and the light has no farther action upon it; it is then to be removed from the hyposulphite and plunged into the plain water, or placed upon the support, fig. 25, and the water poured over it. It is then washed in a similar manner with the distilled water and well examined, to see that not the slightest particle of dust rests on the surface. The next step is to dry it. This may be readily accomplished by holding the plate with your plyers, and pouring distilled water over it--if it is hot, so much the better. Apply the spirit lamp to the back, at the corner held by the plyers, at the same time facilitating the operation with the breath; pass the lamp gradually downwards, finishing at the extreme corner. The last drop may now be removed by a little bibulous paper. A single drop, even, of distilled water allowed to dry on any part of the surface, is certain to leave a stain which no after process can remove. To illustrate the necessity for having perfectly clean water, and free from all foreign matter--only to be avoided by using that which is distilled--in these processes, I will relate a little anecdote. An operator in this city (New York) frequently made complaint to me, that his plates were occasionally very bad; coming out all over in little black and white spots and spoiling many very good pictures, regretting at the same time that perfect plates were not made, for he had lost many customers in consequence of these defects. These complaints being somewhat periodical, I suggested that the fault might be in the hyposulphite, or chloride of gold solutions, or particles of dust floating about in the room, and not in the plate. A few days after he stated, that his plates having served him again in the same way, he procured a fresh supply of hyposulphite of soda and chloride of gold, but after applying them the result was no better. He then, by my advice, thoroughly cleaned his wash dishes, bottles and water pail, made fresh solutions and had no further trouble, becoming satisfied that the plates suffered an undue share of censure. SIXTH PROCESS.--Gilding the Picture.--This is an improvement the honor of which is due to M. Figeau, and may take place either before the drying process, or at any subsequent period; but it improves the picture so materially that it should never be neglected. The articles necessary for gilding are-- A Pair of Plyers; or a Gilding Stand (see fig. 19) and Chloride of Gold; or Hyposulphite of Gold. The latter is imported by Mr. E. Anthony, 205 Broadway, New York, and is decidedly the best article for the purpose. One bottle simply dissolved in a quart of water will make a very strong solution, and gives a richness to the picture impossible to be obtained from the chloride of gold. The process is precisely similar to that described below for chloride of gold, taking care to cease the moment the bubbles are well defined over the surface of the plate. Many Daguerreotypists, after a superficial trial, discard the hyposulphite of gold as inferior; but I have no hesitation in asserting that the fault lies with themselves; for in every case within my knowledge, where its use has been persisted in until the correct method has been ascertained and the nature of the gilding has become familiar, it is always preferred. In illustration of this fact I will relate an anecdote: A gentleman to whom it had been recommended, purchased a bottle, and after making one or two trials of it, wrote to his correspondent--"Send me two bottles of chloride of gold, for I want no more of the hyposulphite; it is good for nothing." A few weeks after he sent for three bottles of the condemned article, confessing that he had found fault unnecessarily; for, that since he had become familiar to its use, he must acknowledge its superiority, and would use no other gilding. The Solution of Chloride of Gold is prepared by dissolving in a pint of distilled water, fifteen grains of chrystalized chloride of gold. This solution will be of a yellow tint. In another pint of distilled water dissolve fifty-five grains of hyposulphite of soda; pour gradually, in very small quantities, the gold into the hyposulphite of soda, stirring the solution at intervals; when finished the mixture should be nearly colorless. Place the plate on its stand, or hold it in the plyers, in a perfectly horizontal position--silver surface upward--having previously slightly turned up the edges, so that it may hold the solution. Wet the surface with alcohol, letting any superfluous quantity drain off. The alcohol is of no farther use than to facilitate the flowing of the gold mixture over the surface. Now pour on, carefully, as much of the preparation of gold as will remain on the plate. The under part of the plate is then to be heated as uniformly as possible with the spirit lamp; small bubbles will arise, and the appearance of the portrait or view very sensibly improved. The process must not be carried too far, but as soon as the bubbles disappear the lamp should be removed, and the plate immersed in distilled water, and dried as before directed. 7th. COLORING THE PICTURE.--I very much doubt the propriety of coloring the daguerreotypes, as I am of opinion, that they are little, if any, improved by the operation, at least as it is now generally practised. There are several things requisite in an artist to enable him to color a head, or even a landscape effectively, and correctly, and I must say that very few of these are possessed by our operators as a class. These requirements are, a talent for drawing--taste--due discrimination of effect--strict observance of the characteristic points in the features of the subject--quick perception of the beautiful, and a knowledge of the art of mixing colors, and blending tints. The method now pursued, I do not hesitate to say, and have no fears of being contradicted by those capable of critisizing is on the whole ruinous to any daguerreotype, and to a perfect one absolutely disgusting. The day may come when accurate coloring may be obtained in the camera. Until that day, if we cannot lead taste into the right channel, we will endeavor to give such instructions that Daguerreotypists may proceed with this part of his work with a better understanding of the principles involved. For this purpose I have prepared a short chapter on the art of coloring, which may be found in the latter part of this volume. To Preserve Daguerreotypes they must be well sealed and secured in a case, or frame. These, of course, are selected according to the taste of the customer, the principal requisite being good glass. Most Daguerreotypists prefer the white French plate glass--and many think, very erroneously, that none is good unless it is thick--but the great desideratum is clearness and freedom from blisters; even glass a little tinged with green or yellow is to be preferred to the French plate when cloudy or blistered and there is very little of it comes to this market that is not so. It is to be hoped that some of our glass factories will manage to manufacture an article expressly for daguerreotypes; and I would recommend them to do so, for they would find it quite an item of profit annually. Before enclosing the picture in the case you should be careful to wipe the glass perfectly clean, and blow from the picture any particles of dust which may have fallen upon it. Then take strips of sticking paper, about half or three quarters of an inch wide, and firmly and neatly secure it to the glass, having first placed a "mat" between them to prevent the plate being scratched by the glass. TO MAKE SEALING PAPER.--Dissolve one ounce of gum arabic, and a quarter of an ounce of gum tragicanth in a pint of water; then add a teaspoonful of benzoin. Spread this evenly on one side of good stout tissue paper; let it dry, and then cut it up in stripes, about half or three quarters of an inch wide, for use. If it becomes too soft for summer use, add gum arabic; if too hard and cracking, add benzoin or gum tragicanth; if it gets too thick, add water. COLORED DAGUERREOTYPES ON COPPER.--To effect this, take a polished plate of copper and expose it to the vapor of iodine, or bromine, or the two substances combined; or either of them in combination with chlorine. This gives a sensitive coating to the surface of the plate, which may then be submitted to the action of light in the camera. After remaining a sufficient time in the camera, the plate is taken out and exposed to the vapor of sulphuretted hydrogen. This vapor produces various colors on the plate, according to the intensity with which the light has acted on the different parts; consequently a colored photographic picture is obtained. No further process is necessary as exposure to light does not effect the picture. By this process we have an advantage over the silvered plate, both in economy, and in the production of the picture in colors. INSTANTANEOUS PICTURES BY MEANS OF GALVANISM.--It will be seen by the following valuable communication that galvanism can be successfully applied in producing pictures instantly; a process of great importance in securing the likeness of a child, or in taking views of animated nature. Colonel Whitney informs me that he once took a view of the steeple of the St. Louis Court House after sundown by this means, and also secured the image of a man in the act of stepping into a store, and before he had time to place his foot, raised for that purpose, on the door step. Mr. Whitney is well known as the talented editor of the Sunday Morning news. New York, January 16, 1849. Mr. H. H. SNELLING. Dear Sir,--As you are about publishing a history of the Daguerreotype, and request a description of my mode of taking pictures instantaneously by the aid of galvanism, I comply with great pleasure. In the year 1841, while practicing the art in St. Louis, Mo., I was at times, during the summer, much troubled with the electric influence of the atmosphere, especially on the approach of a thunder-storm. At such times I found the coating of my plates much more sensitive than when the atmosphere was comparatively free from the electric fluid, and the effect was so irregular that no calculation could counteract the difficulty. This satisfied me that electricity was in some measure an important agent in the chemical process, and it occurred to me that the element might be turned to advantage. I determined, therefore, to enter on a series of experiments to test my theory. Finding it impossible to obtain an electric machine, and unwilling to abandon the examination, it occurred to me, that the galvanic influence might answer the same purpose. I therefore proceeded to make a galvanic battery in the following simple manner. I obtained a piece of zinc about two inches long, one inch wide, and an eighth of an inch thick. On this I soldered a narrow strip of copper, about six inches long, the soldered end laid on one side of the zinc, and extending its whole length. The battery was completed by placing the zinc in a glass tumbler, two-thirds full of dilute sulphuric acid, strong enough to produce a free action of the metals. The upper end of the copper slip extending above the tumbler was sharpened to a point, and bent a little over the glass. The method of using, was thus:--After preparing the plate in the usual manner and placing it in the camera, in such manner as to expose the back of the plate to view, the battery was prepared by placing the zinc in the acid, and as soon as the galvanic fluid began to traverse (as could be known by the effervescence of the acid, operating on the zinc and copper) the cap of the camera was removed, and the plate exposed to the sitter; at the same instant the point of the battery was brought quickly against the back of the plate, and the cap replaced instantly. If the plate is exposed more than an instant after the contact the picture will generally be found solarized. By this process I have taken pictures of persons in the act of walking, and in taking the pictures of infants and young children I found it very useful. Very respectfully yours, THOMAS R. WHITNEY. CHAP. VII PAPER DAGUERREOTYPES.--ETCHING DAGUERREOTYPES. Mr. Hunt describes a process, discovered by himself by which the Daguerrean art may be applied to paper. His description is as follows:-- "Placing the paper on some hard body, wash it over on one side--by means of a very soft camel's hair pencil--with a solution of sixty grains of bromide of potassium, in two fluid ounces of distilled water, and then dry it quickly by the fire. Being dry, it is again washed over with the same solution, and dried as before. A solution of nitrate of silver--one hundred grains to an ounce of distilled water--is to be applied over the same surface, and the paper quickly dried in the dark. In this state the papers may be kept for use. "When they are required, the above solution of silver is to be plentifully applied, and the paper placed wet in the camera, the greatest care being taken that no day light--not even the faintest gleam--falls upon it until the moment when you are prepared, by removing the dark slide, to permit the light, radiating from the object you wish to copy, to act in producing the picture. After a few seconds the light must be again shut off, and the camera removed into a dark room." The necessity of removing the camera is now avoided by the use of the dark slide, already described, covering the picture in the holder, which alone may be removed.--Amer. Aut. "It will be found by taking the paper from the holder, that there is but a very faint outline--if any--yet visible. Place it aside, in perfect darkness until quite dry; then place it in the mercurial vapor box (meaning bath) and apply a very gentle heat to the bottom. The moment the mercury vaporizes, the picture will begin to develope itself. The spirit lamp must now be removed for a short time, and when the action of the mercury appears to cease, it is to be very carefully applied again, until a well defined picture is visible. The vaporization must then be suddenly stopped, and the photograph removed from the box. The drawing will then be very beautiful and distinct; but much detail is still clouded, for the developement of which it is only necessary to place it in the dark and suffer it to remain undisturbed for some hours. There is now an inexpressible charm about the pictures, equaling the delicate beauty of the daguerreotype; but being very susceptible of change, it must be viewed by the light of a taper only. The nitrate of silver must now be removed from the paper, by well washing it in soft water, to which a small quantity of salt has been added, and it should afterwards be soaked in water only. When the picture has been dried, wash it quickly over with a soft brush dipped in a warm solution of hyposulphite of soda, and then wash it for some time in distilled water, in order that all the hyposulphite may be removed. The drawing is now fixed and we may use it to procure positive copies, (the original being termed a negative,) many of which may be taken from one original." "The action of light on this preparation, does indeed appear to be instantaneous. The exquisite delicacy of this preparation may be imagined, when I state that in five seconds in the camera, I have, during sunshine, obtained perfect pictures, and that when the sky is overcast, one minute is quite sufficient to produce a most decided effect." "This very beautiful process is not without its difficulties; and the author cannot promise that, even with the closest attention to the above directions, annoying failures will not occur. It often happens that some accidental circumstance--generally a projecting film or a little dust--will occasion the mercurial vapor to act with great energy on one part of the paper, and blacken it before the other portions are at all effected. Again, the mercury will sometimes accumulate along the lines made by the brush, and give a streaky appearance to the picture, although these lines are not at all evident before the mercurial vapor was applied. (A brush sufficiently large--and they may be easily obtained--will, in a measure, prevent this difficulty.--Amer Au.) I have stated that the paper should be placed wet in the camera; the same paper may be used dry, which often is a great convenience. When in the dry state a little longer exposure is required; and instead of taking a picture in four or five seconds, two or three minutes are necessary." The durability of daguerreotypes has been, and is still, doubted by many, but experiment has proved that they are more permanent than oil paintings or engravings. ETCHING DAGUERREOTYPES.--There are several methods of accomplishing this object; discovered and applied by different individuals. The first process was published at Vienna by Dr. Berres, and consisted in covering the plate with the mucilage of gum arabic, and then immersing the plate in nitric acid of different strengths. Mr. Figeau, of whom I have already spoken, likewise discovered a process for the engraving of Daguerreotypes; and founded on the belief that the lights of a Daguerreotype plate consists of unaltered silver, while the dark or shadows consists of mercury or an amalgam of mercury with silver. He finds that a compound acid, consisting of a mixture of nitric, nitrous, and muriatic acids, or of nitric mixed with nitrate of potass and common salt, has the property of attaching the silver in presence of the mercury without acting upon the latter. Bi-chloride of copper answers the purpose also, but less completely. "When the clean surface of a Daguerreotype plate is exposed to the action of this menstruum, particularly if warm, the white parts, or lights are not altered, but the dark parts are attacked, and chloride of silver is formed, of which an insoluble coating is soon deposited, and the action of the acid soon ceases. This coat of chloride of silver is removed by a solution of ammonia, and then the acid applied again, and so on, until the depth of biting in is sufficient. However, it is not possible, by repeating this process, to get a sufficient force of impression; a second operation is required, in order to obtain such a depth as will hold the ink, to give a dark impression; for this purpose the whole plate is covered with drying oil; this is cleared off with the hand, exactly in the way a copper plate printer cleans his plate. The oil is thus left in the sinkings, or dark bitten in parts only. The whole plate is now placed in a suitable apparatus, and the lights or prominent parts of the face are gilt by the electrotype process. The whole surface is now touched with what the French engravers call the "Resin Grain," (grain de resine), a species of partial stopping out, and it is at once bitten in to a sufficient depth with nitric acid, the gilding preserving the lights from all action of the acid. The resin grain gives a surface to the corroded parts suitable for holding the ink, and the plate is now finished and fit to give impressions resembling aquatint. But as silver is so soft a metal that the surface of the plate might be expected to wear rapidly, the discoverer proposes to shield it by depositing over its whole surface a very thin coat of copper by the electrotype process; which when worn may be removed at pleasure down to the surface of the noble metal beneath, and again a fresh coat of copper deposited; and so an unlimited number of impressions obtained without injuring the plate itself." If, as has been asserted, steel may be rendered sufficiently sensitive, to take photographic impressions, to what a revolution will the art of engraving be subject by the discovery of this process. CHAP. VIII. PHOTOGENIC DRAWING ON PAPER. We shall now proceed to describe the various processes for Photogenic drawing on paper; first, however, impressing on the mind of the experimenter, the necessity which exists for extreme care in every stage of the manipulation. In this portion of my work I am entirely indebted to the works of Professors Hunt, Fisher and others. I. APPARATUS AND MATERIALS.--Paper.--The principal difficulty to be contended with in using paper, is the different power of imbibition which we often find possessed in the same sheet, owing to trifling inequalities in its texture. This is, to a certain extent, to be overcome by a careful examination of each sheet, by the light of a candle or lamp at night, or in the dark. By extending each sheet between the light and the eye, and slowly moving it up and down, and from left to right, the variations in its texture will be seen by the different quantities of light which pass through it in different parts; and it is always the safest course to reject every sheet in which inequalities exist. Paper sometimes contains minute portions of thread, black or brown specks, and other imperfections, all of which materially interfere with the process. Some paper has an artificial substance given to it by sulphate of lime (Plaster of Paris); this defect only exists, however, in the cheaper sorts of demy, and therefore can be easily avoided. In all cases such paper should be rejected, as no really sensitive material can be obtained with it. Paper-makers, as is well known, often affix their name to one half the sheet; this moiety should also be placed aside, as the letters must frequently come out with annoying distinctness. Well sized paper is by no means objectionable, indeed, is rather to be preferred, since the size tends to exalt the sensitive powers of the silver. The principal thing to be avoided, is the absorption of the sensitive solution into the pores; and it must be evident that this desideratum cannot be obtained by unsized paper. Taking all things into consideration, the paper known as satin post would appear to be preferable, although the precautions already recommended should be taken in its selection. Brushes.--The necessary solutions are to be laid upon the paper by brushes. Some persons pass the paper over the surface of the solutions, thus licking up, as it were, a portion of the fluid; but this method is apt to give an uneven surface; it also rapidly spoils the solutions. At all events, the brush is the most ready and the most effectual means. Distilled Water.--All the water used, both for mixing the solutions, washing the paper, or cleaning the brushes, must be distilled, to obtain good results, for reasons before specified. Blotting Paper.--In many instances, the prepared paper requires to be lightly dried with bibulous paper. The best description is the white sort. In each stage of the preparation distinct portions of bibulous paper must be used. If these be kept seperate and marked, they can be again employed for the same stage; but it would not do, for example, to dry the finished picture in the same folds in which the sensitive paper had been pressed. A very convenient method is to have two or three quarto size books of bibulous paper, one for each seperate process. Nitrate of Silver.--In the practice of the photographic art, much depends on the nitrate of silver. Care should be taken to procure the best; the crystalized salt is most suitable for the purpose. While in the form of crystal it is not injured by exposure to light, but the bottles containing the solutions of this salt should at all times be kept wrapped in dark paper, and excluded from daylight. II. DIFFERENT METHODS OF PREPARING THE PAPER.--Preparation of the Paper.--Dip the paper to be prepared into a weak solution of common salt. The solution should not be saturated, but six or eight times diluted with water. When perfectly moistened, wipe it dry with a towel, or press it between bibulous paper, by which operation the salt is uniformly dispersed through its substance. Then brush over it, on one side only, a solution of nitrate of silver. The strength of this solution must vary according to the color and sensitiveness required. Mr. Talbot recommends about fifty grains of the salt to an ounce of distilled water. Some advise twenty grains only, while others say eighty grains to the ounce. When dried in a dark room, the paper is fit for use. To render this paper still more sensitive, it must again be washed with salt and water, and afterwards with the same solution of nitrate of silver, drying it between times. This paper, if carefully made, is very useful for all ordinary photographic purposes. For example, nothing can be more perfect than the images it gives of leaves and flowers, especially with a summer's sun; the light, passing through the leaves, delineates every ramification of their fibres. In conducting this operation, however, it will be found that the results are sometimes more and sometimes less satisfactory, in consequence of small and accidental variations in the proportions employed. It happens sometimes that the chloride of silver formed on the surface of the paper is disposed to blacken of itself, without any exposure to light. This shows that the attempt to give it sensibility has been carried too far. The object is, to approach as nearly to this condition as possible without reaching it; so that the preparation may be in a state ready to yield to the slightest extraneous force, such as the feeblest effect of light. Cooper's Method.--Soak the paper in a boiling hot solution of chlorate of potash (the strength matters not) for a few minutes; then take it out, dry it, and wet it with a brush, on one side only, dipped in a solution of nitrate of silver, sixty grains to an ounce of distilled water, or, if not required to be so sensitive, thirty grains to the ounce will do. This paper possesses a great advantage over any other, for the image can be fixed by mere washing. It is, however, very apt to become discolored even in the washing, or shortly afterwards, and is, besides, not so sensitive, nor does it become so dark as that made according to Mr. Talbot's method. Daguerre's Method.--Immerse the paper in hydrochloric (or as it is more commonly called, muriatic) ether, which has been kept sufficiently long to become acid; the paper is then carefully and completely dried, as this is essential to its proper preparation. It is then dipped into a solution of nitrate of silver, and dried without artificial heat in a room from which every ray of light is carefully excluded. By this process it acquires a very remarkable facility in being blackened on a very slight exposure to light, even when the latter is by no means intense. The paper, however, rapidly loses its extreme sensitiveness to light, and finally becomes no more impressionable by the solar beams than common nitrate paper. Bromide Paper.--Of all common photographic paper, the best, because the least troublesome in making, and the most satisfactory in result, is that which is termed bromine paper, and which is thus prepared:--Dissolve one hundred grains of bromide of potassium in one ounce of distilled water, and soak the paper in this solution. Take off the superfluous moisture, by means of your bibulous paper, and when nearly dry, brush it over on one side only, with a solution of one hundred grains of nitrate of silver to an ounce of distilled water. The paper should then be dried in a dark room, and, if required to be very sensitive, should a second time be brushed over with the nitrate of silver solution. In preparing the papers mentioned above, there are two circumstances which require particular attention. In the first place, it is necessary to mark the paper on the side spread with the solutions of nitrate of silver, near one of the extreme corners. This answers two purposes: in the first place it serves to inform the experimentalist of the sensitive surface; and secondly, it will be a guide as to which portion of the papers has been handled during the application of the solution, as the impress of the fingers will probably come out upon the photograph. The second caution is, that the application of the sensitive solution (nitrate of silver,) and the subsequent drying of the paper, must be always conducted in a perfectly dark room, the light of a candle alone being used. [Illustration: Fig. 29 (hipho_29.gif)] III. PHOTOGENIC PROCESS ON PAPER.--Method.--The simplest mode is to procure a flat board and a square of glass, larger in size than the object intended to be copied. On the board place the photographic paper with the prepared side upwards, and upon it the object to be copied; over both lay the glass and secure them so that they are in close connection by means of binding screws or clamps, similar to g. g. fig. 29. Should the object to be copied be of unequal thickness, such as a leaf, grass, &c., it will be necessary to place on the board, first, a soft cushion, which may be made of a piece of fine flannel and cotton wool. By this means the object is brought into closer contact with the paper, which is of great consequence, and adds materially to the clearness of the copy. The paper is now exposed to diffused daylight, or, still better, to the direct rays of the sun, when that part of the paper not covered by the object will become tinged with a violet color, and if the paper be well prepared, it will in a short time pass to a deep brown or bronze color. It must then be removed, as no advantage will be obtained by keeping it longer exposed; on the contrary, the delicate parts yet uncolored will become in some degree affected. The photogenic paper will now show a more or less white and distinct representation of the object. The apparatus figured at 29 consists of a wooden frame similar to a picture frame; a piece of plate glass is fixed in front; and it is provided with a sliding cover of wood, c., which is removed when the paper is ready to be exposed to the action of the light. The back, d., which is furnished with a cushion, as just described, is made to remove for the purpose of introducing the object to be copied, and upon it the prepared paper; the back is then replaced, and, by aid of the cross piece and screw, e., the whole is brought into close contact with the glass. The objects best delineated on these photographic papers, are lace, feathers, dried plants, particularly the ferns, sea-weeds and the light grasses, impressions of copper plate and wood engravings, particularly if they have considerable contrast of light and shade--(these should be placed with the face downwards, having been previously prepared as hereafter directed)--paintings on glass, etchings, &c. To fix the Drawings.--Mr. Talbot recommends that the drawings should be dipped in salt and water, and in many instances this method will succeed, but at times it is equally unsuccessful. Iodide of potassium, or, as it is frequently called, hydriodate of potash, dissolved in water, and very much diluted, (twenty-five grains to one ounce of water,) is a more useful preparation to wash the drawings with; it must be used very weak or it will not dissolve the unchanged muriate only, as is intended but the black oxide also, and the drawing be thereby spoiled. But the most certain material to be used is the hyposulphite of soda. One ounce of this salt should be dissolved in about a pint of distilled water. Having previously washed the drawing in a little lukewarm water, which of itself removes a large portion of the muriate of silver which is to be got rid of, it should be dipped once or twice in the hyposulphite solution. By this operation the muriate which lies upon the lighter parts will become so altered in its nature as to be unchanged by light, while the rest remains dark as before. It will be evident from the nature of the process, that the lights and shadows of an object are reversed. That which is originally opaque will intercept the light, and consequently those parts of the photogenic paper will be least influenced by light, while any part of the object which is transparent, by admitting the light through it, will suffer the effect to be greater or less in exact proportion to its degree of transparency. The object wholly intercepting the light will show a white impression; in selecting, for example, a butterfly for an object, the insect, being more or less transparent, leaves a proportionate gradation of light and shade, the most opaque parts showing the whitest. It may be said, therefore, that this is not natural, and in order to obtain a true picture--or, as it is termed, a positive picture--we must place our first acquired photograph upon a second piece of photogenic paper. Before we do this, however, we must render our photograph transparent, otherwise the opacity of the paper will mar our efforts. To accomplish this object, the back of the paper containing the negative, or first acquired photograph, should be covered with white or virgin wax. This may be done by scraping the wax upon the paper, and then, after placing it between two other pieces of paper, passing a heated iron over it. The picture, being thus rendered transparent, should now be applied to a second piece of photogenic paper, and exposed, in the manner before directed, either to diffused day-light or to the direct rays of the sun. The light will now penetrate the white parts, and the second photograph be the reverse of the first, or a true picture of the original. Instead of wax, boiled linseed oil--it must be the best and most transparent kind--may be used. The back of the negative photograph should be smeared with the oil, and then placed between sheets of bibulous paper. When dry the paper is highly transparent. IV. APPLICATION OF PHOTOGENIC DRAWING.--This method of photogenic drawing may be applied to useful purposes, such as the copying of paintings on glass by the light thrown through them on the prepared paper--Imitations of etchings, which may be accomplished by covering a piece of glass with a thick coat of white oil paint; when dry, with the point of a needle, lines or scratches are to be made through the white lead ground, so as to lay the glass bare; then place the glass upon a piece of prepared paper, and expose it to the light. Of course every line will be represented beneath of a black color, and thus an imitation etching will be produced. It is also applicable to the delineation of microscopic objects, architecture, sculpture, landscapes and external nature. A novel application of this art has been recently suggested, which would doubtless prove useful in very many instances. By rendering the wood used for engravings sensitive to light, impressions may be at once made thereon, without the aid of the artist's pencil. The preparation of the wood is simply as follows:--Place its face or smooth side downwards, in a plate containing twenty grains of common salt dissolved in an ounce of water; here let it remain for five minutes, take it out and dry it; then place it again face downwards in another plate containing sixty grains of nitrate of silver to an ounce of water; here let it rest one minute, when taken out and dried in the dark it will be fit for use, and will become, on exposure to the light, of a fine brown color. Should it be required more sensitive, it must be immersed in each solution a second time, for a few seconds only. It will now be very soon effected by a very diffused light. This process may be useful to carvers and wood engravers not only to those who cut the fine objects of artistical design, but still more to those who cut patterns and blocks for lace, muslin, calico-printing, paper hangings, etc., as by this means the errors, expense and time of the draughtsman may be wholly saved, and in a minute or two the most elaborate picture or design, or the most complicated machinery, be delineated with the utmost truth and clearness. CHAP. IX. CALOTYPE AND CHRYSOTYPE. The materials and apparatus necessary for the Calotype process are-- Two or Three Shallow Dishes, for holding distilled water, iodide, potassium, &c.--the same water never being used for two different operations. White Bibulous Paper. Photogenic Camera--Fig. 9. Pressure Frame--Fig 29. Paper, of the very best quality--directions for the choice of which have been already given. A Screen of Yellow Glass. Camels' or Badgers' hair Brushes:--A seperate one being kept for each wash and solution, and which should be thoroughly cleansed immediately after using in distilled water. That used for the gallo-nitrate is soon destroyed, owing to the rapid decomposition of that preparation. A Graduated Measure. Three or Four Flat Boards, to which the paper may be fixed with drawing pins. A Hot Water Drying Apparatus, for drying the paper will also be found useful. In preparing the Calotype paper, it is necessary to be extremely careful, not only to prevent the daylight from impringing upon it, but also to exclude, if possible, the strong glare of the candle or lamp. This may be effected by using a shade of yellow glass or gauze, which must be placed around the light. Light passing through such a medium will scarcely affect the sensitive compounds, the yellow glass intercepting the chemical rays. Preparation of the Iodized Paper.--Dissolve one hundred grains of crystalized nitrate of silver in six ounces of distilled water, and having fixed the paper to one of the boards, brush it over with a soft brush on one side only with this solution, a mark being placed on that side whereby it may be known. When nearly dry dip it into a solution of iodide of potassium, containing five hundred grains of that salt dissolved in a pint of water. When perfectly saturated with this solution, it should be washed in distilled water, drained and allowed to dry. This is the first part of the process, and the paper so prepared is called iodized paper. It should be kept in a port-folio or drawer until required: with this care it may be preserved for any length of time without spoiling or undergoing any change. Mr. Cundell finds a stronger solution of nitrate of silver preferable, and employs thirty grains to the ounce of distilled water: he also adds fifty grains of common salt to the iodide of potassium, which he applies to the marked side of the paper only. This is the first process. Preparation of the paper for the Camera.--The second process consists in applying to the above a solution which has been named by Mr. Talbot the "Gallo-Nitrate of Silver;" it is prepared in the following manner: Dissolve one hundred grains of crystalized nitrate of silver in two ounces of distilled water, to which is added two and two-third drachms of strong acetic acid. This solution should be kept in a bottle carefully excluded from the light. Now, make a solution of gallic acid in cold distilled water: the quantity dissolved is very small. When it is required to take a picture, the two liquids above described should be mixed together in equal quantities; but as it speedily undergoes decomposition, and will not keep good for many minutes, only just sufficient for the time should be prepared, and that used without delay. It is also well not to make much of the gallic acid solution, as it will not keep for more than a few days without spoiling. A sheet of the iodized paper should be washed over with a brush with this mixed solution, care being taken that it be applied to the marked side. This operation must be performed by candle light. Let the paper rest half a minute, then dip it into one of the dishes of water, passing it beneath the surface several times; it is now allowed to drain, and dried by placing its marked side upwards, on the drying apparatus. It is better not to touch the surface with bibulous paper. It is now highly sensitive, and ready to receive the impression. In practice it is found better and more economical not to mix the nitrate of silver and gallic acid, but only to brush the paper with the solution of the nitrate. Mr. Talbot has recently proposed some modifications in his method of preparing the calotype paper. The paper is first iodized in the usual way; it is then washed over with a saturated solution of gallic acid in distilled water and dried. Thus prepared he calls it the io-gallic paper: it will remain good for a considerable time if kept in a press or portfolio. When required for use, it is washed with a solution of nitrate of silver (fifty grains to the ounce of distilled water), and it is then fit for the camera. Exposure in the Camera.--The calotype paper thus prepared possesses a very high degree of sensibility when exposed to light, and we are thus provided with a medium by which, with the aid of the photogenic camera, we may effectually copy views from nature, figures, buildings, and even take portraits from the shadows thrown on the paper by the living face. The paper may be used somewhat damp. The best plan for fixing it in the camera is to place it between a piece of plate glass and some other material with a flat surface, as a piece of smooth slate or an iron plate, which latter, if made warm, renders the paper more sensitive, and consequently the picture is obtained more rapidly. Time of Exposure.--With regard to the time which should be allowed for the paper to remain in the camera, no direct rules can be laid down; this will depend altogether upon the nature of the object to be copied, and the light which prevails. All that can be said is, that the time necessary for forming a good picture varies from thirty seconds to five minutes, and it will be naturally the first object of the operator to gain by experience this important knowledge. Bringing Out the Picture.--The paper when taken from the camera, which should be done so as to exclude every ray of light--and here the dark slide of the camera plate holder becomes of great use--bears no resemblance to the picture which in reality is formed. The impression is latent and invisible, and its existence would not be suspected by any one not acquainted with the process by previous experiment. The method of bringing out the image is very simple. It consists in washing the paper with the gallo-nitrate of silver, prepared in the way already described, and then warming it gently, being careful at the same time not to let any portion become perfectly dry. In a few seconds the part of the paper upon which the light has acted will begin to darken, and finally grow entirely black, while the other parts retain their original color. Even a weak impression may be brought out by again washing the paper in the gallo-nitrate, and once more gently warming it. When the paper is quite black, as is generally the case, it is a highly curious and beautiful phenomenon to witness the commencement of the picture, first tracing out the stronger outlines, and then gradually filling up all the numerous and complicated details. The artist should watch the picture as it developes itself, and when in his judgment it has attained the greatest degree of strength and clearness, he shall stop further proceedings by washing it with the fixing liquid. Here again the mixed solution need not be used, but the picture simply brushed over with the gallic acid. The Fixing Process.--In order to fix the picture thus obtained, first dip it into water; then partly dry it with bibulous paper, and wash it with a solution of bromide of potassium--containing one hundred grains of that salt dissolved in eight or ten ounces of distilled water. The picture is again washed with distilled water, and then finally dried. Instead of bromide of potassium, a solution of hyposulphite of soda, as before directed, may be used with equal advantage. The original calotype picture, like the photographic one described in the last chapter, is negative, that is to say, it has its lights and shades reversed, giving the whole an appearance not conformable to nature. But it is easy from this picture to obtain another which shall be conformable to nature; viz., in which the lights shall be represented by lights, and the shades by shades. It is only necessary to take a sheet of photographic paper (the bromide paper is the best), and place it in contact with a calotype picture previously rendered transparent by wax or oil as before directed. Fix it in the frame, Fig. 29, expose it in the sunshine for a short time, and an image or copy will be formed on the photogenic paper. The calotype paper itself may be used to take the second, or positive, picture, but this Mr. Talbot does not recommend, for although it takes a much longer time to take a copy on the photogenic paper, yet the tints of such copy are generally more harmonious and agreeable. After a calotype picture has furnished a number of copies it sometimes grows faint, and the subsequent copies are inferior. This may be prevented by means of a process which revives the strength of the calotype pictures. In order to do this, it is only necessary to wash them by candlelight with gallo-nitrate of silver, and then warm them. This causes all the shades of the picture to darken considerably, while the white parts are unaffected. After this the picture is of course to be fixed a second time. It will then yield a second series of copies, and, in this way, a great number may frequently be made. The calotype pictures when prepared as we have stated, possess a yellowish tint, which impedes the process of taking copies from them. In order to remedy this defect, Mr. Talbot has devised the following method. The calotype picture is plunged into a solution consisting of hyposulphite of soda dissolved in about ten times its weight of water, and heated nearly to the boiling point. The picture should remain in about ten minutes; it must then be removed, washed and dried. By this process the picture is rendered more transparent, and its lights become whiter. It is also rendered exceedingly permanent. After this process the picture may be waxed, and thus its transparency increased. This process is applicable to all photographic papers prepared with solutions of silver. Having thus fully, and it is hoped clearly, considered the process, it may be necessary before dismissing the calotype from notice, to add one or two remarks from the observations and labors of some who have experimented in this art. Dr. Ryan in his lectures before the Royal Polytechnic Institution, has observed, that in the iodizing process the sensitiveness of the paper is materially injured by keeping it too long in the solution of iodide of potassium, owing to the newly formed iodide of silver being so exceedingly solvable in excess of iodide of potassium as in a few minutes to be completely removed. The paper should be dipped in the solution and instantly removed. There is another point, too, in the preparation of the iodized paper in which suggestions for a slight deviation from Mr. Talbot's plan have been made. In the first instance, it is recommended that the paper be brushed over with the iodide of potassium, instead of the nitrate of silver, transposing, in fact, the application of the first two solutions. The paper, having been brushed over with the iodide of potassium in solution, is washed in distilled water and dried. It is then brushed over with nitrate of silver, and after drying is dipped for, a moment in a fresh solution of iodide of potassium of only one-fourth the strength of the first, that is to say, one hundred and twenty-five grains of the salt to a pint of water. After this it is again washed and dried. The advantage derived from this method, is a more sensitive paper, and a more even distribution of the compounds over the surface. Another deviation from Mr. Talbot's method has been suggested, as follows: Brush the paper over with a solution of one hundred grains of nitrate of silver to an ounce of water. When nearly, but not quite, dry, dip it into a solution of twenty-five grains of iodide of potassium to one ounce of distilled water, drain it, wash it in distilled water and again drain it. Now brush it over with aceto-nitrate of silver, made by dissolving fifty grains of nitrate of silver in one ounce of distilled water, to which is added one sixth of its volume of strong acetic acid. Dry it with bibulous paper, and it is ready for receiving the image. When the impression has been received, which will require from one to five minutes according to the state of the weather, it must be washed with a saturated solution of gallic acid to which a few drops of the aceto-nitrate of silver, made as above, have been added. The image will thus be gradually brought out, and may be fixed with hyposulphite of soda. To obtain the positive picture, paper must be used brushed over with an ammonio-nitrate of silver, made thus: forty grains of nitrate of silver is to be dissolved in one ounce of distilled water, and liquid ammonia cautiously added till it re-dissolves the precipitate. A pleasing effect may be given to calotype, or indeed to all photographic pictures, by waxing them at the back, and mounting them on white paper, or if colored paper be used, various beautiful tones of color are produced. POSITIVE CALOTYPE. At a meeting of the British Association, Professor Grove described a process by which positive calotype pictures could be directly obtained; and thus the necessity to transfer by which the imperfections of the paper are shown, and which is moreover a troublesome and tedious process, is avoided. As light favors most chemical actions, Mr. Grove was led to believe that a paper darkened by the sun (which darkening is supposed to result from the precipitation of silver) might be bleached by using a solvent which would not attack the silver in the dark, but would do so in the light. The plan found to be the most successful is as follows: ordinary calotype paper is darkened till it assumes a deep brown color, almost amounting to black; it is then redipped into the ordinary solution of iodide of potassium, and dried. When required for use it is drawn over dilute nitric acid--one part acid to two and a half parts water. In this state, those parts exposed to the light are rapidly bleached, while the parts not exposed remain unchanged. It is fixed by washing in water, and subsequently in hyposulphite of soda, or bromide of potassium. Mr. Grove also describes a process for converting a negative calotype into a positive one, which promises, when carried out, to be of great utility. Let an ordinary calotype image or portrait be taken in the camera, and developed by gallic acid; then drawn over iodide of potassium and dilute nitric acid and exposed to full sunshine; while bleaching the dark parts, the light is redarkening the newly precipitated iodide in the lighter portions and thus the negative picture is converted into a positive one. The calotype process has been applied to the art of printing, in England, but it possesses no advantages whatever over the method, with type, now so gloriously brought to perfection; and I can hardly think it will ever be made of any utility. For the benefit of the curious, however, I will give Mr. Talbot's method. Some pages of letter-press are taken printed on one side only; and waxed, to render them more transparent; the letters are then cut out and sorted. To compose a new page lines are ruled on a sheet of white paper, and the words are formed by fixing the seperate letters in their proper order. The page being ready, a negative photograph is produced from it, from which the requisite number of positive photogenic copies may be obtained. Another method, which requires the use of the camera, consists in employing large letters painted on rectangular pieces of wood, colored white. These are arranged in lines on a tablet or board, by slipping them into grooves which keep them steady and upright, thus forming a page on an enlarged scale. It is now placed before a camera, and a reduced image of it of the required size is thrown upon the sensitive paper. The adjustments must be kept invariable, so that the consecutive pages may not vary from one another in the size of the type. Mr. Talbot has patented his process, but what benefit he expects to derive from it, I am at a loss to determine. Enlarged copies of calotype or Daguerreotype portraits may be obtained by throwing magnified images of them, by means of lenses, upon calotype paper. THE CHRYSOTYPE. A modification of Mr. Talbot's process, to which the name of Chrysotype was given by its discoverer, Sir John Herschel, was communicated in June 1843 to the Royal Society, by that distinguished philosopher. This modification would appear to unite the simplicity of photography with all the distinctness and clearness of calotype. This preparation is as follows. The paper is to be washed in a solution of ammonio-citrate of iron; it must then be dried, and subsequently brushed over with a solution of the ferro-sesquicyanuret of potassium. This paper, when dried in a perfectly dark room, is ready for use in the same manner as if otherwise prepared, the image being subsequently brought out by any neutral solution of gold. Such was the first declaration of his discovery, but he has since found that a neutral solution of silver is equally useful in bringing out the picture. Photographic pictures taken on this paper are distinguished by a clearness of outline foreign to all other methods. CHAP. X. CYANOTYPE--ENERGIATYPE--CHROMATYPE--ANTHOTYPE--AMPHITYPE AND "CRAYON DAGUERREOTYPE." The several processes enumerated at the head of this chapter, are all discoveries of English philosophers, with the exception of the third and last named. Anthotype was first attempted by M. Ponton a French savan, although it was reserved to Mr. Hunt to bring the process to its present state. The "Crayon Daguerreotype" is an improvement made by J. A Whipple, Esq., of Boston. I. CYANOTYPE. So called from the circumstance of cyanogen in its combinations with iron performing a leading part in the process. It was discovered by Sir John Herschel. The process is a simple one, and the resulting pictures are blue. Brush the paper over with a solution of the ammonio-citrate of iron. This solution should be sufficiently strong to resemble sherry wine in color. Expose the paper in the usual way, and pass over it very sparingly and evenly a wash of the common yellow ferro-cyanate of potass. As soon as the liquid is applied, the negative picture vanishes, and is replaced by a positive one, of a violet blue color, on a greenish yellow ground, which at a certain time possesses a high degree of sharpness, and singular beauty of tint. A curious process was discovered by Sir John Herschel, by which dormant pictures are produced capable of developement by the breath, or by keeping in a moist atmosphere. It is as follows. If nitrate of silver, specific gravity 1.200 be added to ferro-tartaric acid, specific gravity 1.023, a precipitate falls, which is in a great measure redissolved by a gentle heat, leaving a black sediment, which, being cleared by subsidence, a liquid of a pale yellow color is obtained, in which the further addition of the nitrate causes no turbidness. When the total quantity of the nitrated solution added amounts to about half the bulk of the ferro-tartaric acid, it is enough. The liquid so prepared does not alter if kept in the dark. Spread on paper, and exposed wet to the sunshine (partly shaded) for a few seconds, no impression seems to be made, but by degrees, although withdrawn from the action of light, it developes itself spontaneously, and at length becomes very intense. But if the paper be thoroughly dried in the dark, (in which state it is of a very pale greenish yellow color,) it possesses the singular property of receiving a dormant or invisible picture, to produce which from thirty to sixty seconds' exposure to sunshine is requisite. It should not be exposed too long, as not only is the ultimate effect less striking, but a picture begins to be visibly produced, which darkens spontaneously after it is withdrawn. But if the exposure be discontinued before this effect comes on, an invisible impression is the result, to develope which all that is necessary is to breathe upon it, when it immediately appears, and very speedily acquires an extraordinary intensity and sharpness, as if by magic. Instead of the breath, it may be subject to the regular action of aqueous vapor, by laying it in a blotting paper book, of which some of the outer leaves on both sides have been dampened, or by holding over warm water. II. ENERGIATYPE. Under this title a process has been brought forward by Mr. Hunt. It consists of the application of a solution of succinic acid to paper, which is subsequently washed over with nitrate of silver. The image is then to be taken either in the camera or otherwise, as required, and is brought out by the application of the sulphate of iron in solution. Although this process has not come into general use, its exact description may be interesting to the general reader, and we therefore subjoin it. The solution with which the paper is first washed is to be prepared as follows: succinic acid, two drachms; common salt, five grains; mucilage of gum arabic, half a fluid drachm; distilled water, one fluid drachm and a half. When the paper is nearly dry, it is to be brushed over with a solution of nitrate of silver, containing a drachm of the salt, to an ounce of distilled water. It is now ready for exposure in the camera. To bring out the dormant picture it is necessary to wash it with a mixture of a drachm of concentrated solution of the green sulphate of iron and two drachms and a half of mucilage of gum arabic. Subsequently, however, it has been found that the sulphate of iron produces upon all the salts of silver effects quite as beautiful as in the succinate. On the iodide, bromide, acetate, and benzoate, the effects are far more pleasing and striking. When pictures are produced, or the dormant camera image brought out, by the agency of sulphate of iron, it is remarkable how rapidly the effect takes place. Engravings can be thus copied almost instantaneously, and camera views obtained in one or two minutes on almost any preparation of silver. The common sulphate of copper solution has the same property. III. CHROMATYPE. Many efforts have been made to render chromatic acid an active agent in the production of photographs. M. Ponton used a paper saturated with bichromate of potash, and this was one of the earliest photogenic processes. M. Becquerel improved upon this process by sizing the paper with starch previous to the application of the bichromate of potash solution, which enabled him to convert the negative picture into a positive one, by the use of a solution of iodine, which combined with that portion of the starch on which the light had not acted. But by neither of these processes could clear and distinct pictures be formed. Mr. Hunt has, however, discovered a process which is so exceedingly simple, and the resulting pictures of so pleasing a character, that, although it is not sufficiently sensitive for use in the camera, it will be found of the greatest value for copying botanical specimens, engravings, or the like. The paper to be prepared is washed over with a solution of sulphate of copper--about one drachm to an ounce of water--and partially dried; it is then washed with a moderately strong solution of bichromate of potash, and dried at a little distance from the fire. Paper thus prepared may be kept any length of time, in a portfolio, and are always ready for use. When exposed to the sunshine for a time, varying with the intensity of the light, from five to fifteen or twenty minutes, the result is generally a negative picture. It is now to be washed over with a solution of nitrate of silver, which immediately produces a very beautiful deep orange picture upon a light dim colored, or sometimes perfectly white ground. This picture must be quickly fixed, by being washed in pure water, and dried. With regard to the strength of the solutions, it is a remarkable fact, that, if saturated solutions be employed, a negative picture is first produced, but if the solutions be three or four times their bulk of water, the first action of the sun's rays darkens the picture, and then a very bleaching effect follows, giving an exceedingly faint positive picture, which is brought out with great delicacy by the silver solution. It is necessary that pure water should be used for the fixing, as the presence of any muriate damages the picture, and here arises another pleasing variation of the Chromatype. If the positive picture be placed in a very weak solution of common salt the image slowly fades out, leaving a faint negative outline. If it now be removed from the saline solution, dried, and again exposed to sunshine, a positive picture of a lilac color will be produced by a few minutes exposure. Several other of the chromates may be used in this process, but none is so successful as the chromate of copper. IV. ANTHOTYPE. The expressed juice, alcoholic, or watery infusion of flowers, or vegetable substances, may be made the media of photogenic action. This fact was first discovered by Sir John Herschel. We have already given a few examples of this in the third chapter. Certain precautions are necessary in extracting the coloring matter of flowers. The petals of fresh flowers are carefully selected, and crushed to a pulp in a marble mortar, either alone or with the addition of a little alcohol, and the juice expressed by squeezing the pulp in a clean linen or cotton cloth. It is then to be spread upon paper with a flat brush, and dried in the air without artificial heat. If alcohol be not added, the application on paper must be performed immediately, as the air (even in a few minutes), irrecoverably changes or destroys their color. If alcohol be present this change is much retarded, and in some cases is entirely prevented. Most flowers give out their coloring matter to alcohol or water. Some, however, refuse to do so, and require the addition of alkalies, others of acid, &c. Alcohol has, however, been found to enfeeble, and in many cases to discharge altogether these colors; but they are, in most cases, restored upon drying, when spread over paper. Papers tinged with vegetable colors must always be kept in the dark, and perfectly dry. The color of a flower is by no means always, or usually, that which its expressed juice imparts to white paper. Sir John Herschel attributes these changes to the escape of carbonic acid in some cases; to a chemical alteration, depending upon the absorption of oxygen, in others; and again in others, especially where the expressed juice coagulates on standing, to a loss of vitality, or disorganization of the molecules. To secure an eveness of tint on paper, the following manipulation is recommended:--The paper should be moistened on the back by sponging and blotting off. It should then be pinned on a board, the moist side downwards, so that two of its edges (suppose the right-hand and lower ones) shall project a little beyond those of the board. The board then being inclined twenty or thirty degrees to the horizon, the alcoholic tincture (mixed with a very little water, if the petals themselves be not very juicy) is to be applied with a brush in strokes from left to right, taking care not to go over the edges which rest on the board; but to pass clearly over those that project; and observing also to carry the tint from below upwards by quick sweeping strokes, leaving no dry spaces between them, but keeping up a continuity of wet spaces. When all is wet, cross them by another set of strokes from above downwards, so managing the brush as to leave no floating liquid on the paper. It must then be dried as quickly as possible over a stove, or in a warm current of air, avoiding, however, such heat as may injure the tint. In addition to the flowers already mentioned in my third chapter, the following are among those experimented upon and found to give tolerable good photographic sensitives. I can only enumerate them, referring the student, for any further information he may desire on the subject, to Mr. Hunt's work; although what I have said above is sufficient for all practical purposes; and any one, with the ambition, can readily experiment upon them, without further research, on any other flower he may choose. Viola Odorata--or sweet sented violet, yields to alcohol a rich blue color, which it imparts in high perfection to paper Senecio Splendens--or double purple groundsel, yields a beautiful color to paper. The leaves of the laurel, common cabbage, and the grasses, are found sufficiently sensitive. Common Merrigold yields an invaluable faecula, which appears identical with that produced by the Wall-flower, and Cochorus japonica mentioned before, and is very sensitive, but photographs procured upon it cannot be preserved, the color is so fugitive. From an examination of the researches of Sir John Herschel on the coloring matter of plants, it will be seen that the action of the sun's rays is to destroy the color, effecting a sort of chromatic analysis, in which two distinct elements of color are separated, by destroying the one and leaving the other outstanding. The action is confined within the visible spectrum, and thus a broad distinction is exhibited between the action of the sun's rays on vegetable juices and on argentine compounds, the latter being most sensibly affected by the invisible rays beyond the violet. It may also be observed, that the rays effective in destroying a given tint, are in a great many cases, those whose union produces a color complementary to the tint destroyed, or, at least, one belonging to that class of colors to which such complementary tint may be preferred. For instance, yellows tending towards orange are destroyed with more energy by the blue rays; blues by the red, orange and yellow rays; purples and pinks by yellow and green rays. V. AMPHITYPE. This process is a discovery of Sir John Herschel and receives its name from the fact that both negative and positive photographs can be produced by one process. The positive pictures obtained by it have a perfect resemblance to impressions of engravings with common printer's ink. The process, although not yet fully carried out, promises to be of vast utility. Paper proper for producing an amphitype picture may be prepared either with the ferro-tartrate or the ferro-citrate of the protoxide, or the peroxide of mercury, or of the protoxide of lead, by using creams of these salts, or by successive applications of the nitrates of the respective oxides, singly or in mixture, to the paper, alternating with solutions of the ammonia-tartrate or the ammonia-citrate of iron, the latter solution being last applied, and in more or less excess. I purposely avoid stating proportions, as I have not yet been able to fix upon any which certainly succeed. Paper so prepared and dried takes a negative picture, in a time varying from half an hour to five or six hours, according to the intensity of the light; and the impression produced varies in apparent force from a faint and hardly perceptible picture to one of the highest conceivable fulness and richness both of tint and detail, the color being in this case a superb velvety brown. This extreme richness of effect is not produced unless lead be present, either in the ingredients used, or in the paper itself. It is not, as I originally supposed, due to the presence of free tartaric acid. The pictures in this state are not permanent. They fade in the dark, though with very different degrees of rapidity, some (especially if free tartaric or citric acid be present) in a few days, while others remain for weeks unimpaired, and require whole years for their total obliteration. But though entirely faded out in appearance, the picture is only rendered dormant, and may be restored, changing its character from negative to positive, and its colors from brown to black, (in the shadows), by the following process:--A bath being prepared by pouring a small quantity of solution of pernitrate of mercury into a large quantity of water, and letting the subnitrated precipitates subside, the picture may be immersed in it, (carefully and repeatedly clearing off all air bubbles,) and allowed to remain till the picture (if any where visible,) is entirely destroyed; or if faded, till it is judged sufficient from previous experience; a term which is often marked by the appearance of a feeble positive picture, of a bright yellow hue, on the pale yellow ground of the paper. A long time (several weeks) is often required for this, but heat accelerates the action, and it is often completed in a few hours. In this state the picture is to be very thoroughly rinsed and soaked in pure warm water, and then dried. It is then to be well ironed with a smooth iron, heated so as barely not to injure the paper, placing it, for greater security against scorching, between clean smooth paper. If then the process have been successful, a perfectly black positive picture is at once developed. At first it most commonly happens that the whole picture is sooty or dingy to such a degree that it is condemned as spoiled, but on keeping it between the leaves of a book, especially in a moist atmosphere, by extremely slow degrees this dinginess disappears, and the picture disengages itself with continually increasing sharpness and clearness, and acquires the exact effect of a copper-plate engraving on a paper more or less tinted with a pale yellow. I ought to observe, that the best and most uniform specimens which I have procured have been on paper previously washed with certain preparations of uric acid, which is a very remarkable and powerful photographic element. The intensity of the original negative picture is no criterion of what may be expected in the positive. It is from the production by one and the same action of light, of either a positive or negative picture according to the subsequent manipulations, that I have designated the process, thus generally sketched out, by the term Amphitype,--a name suggested by Mr. Talbot, to whom I communicated this singular result; and to this process or class of processes (which I cannot doubt when pursued will lead to some very beautiful results,) I propose to restrict the name in question, though it applies even more appropriately to the following exceedingly curious and remarkable one, in which silver is concerned: At the last meeting I announced a mode of producing, by means of a solution of silver, in conjunction with ferro-tartaric acid, a dormant picture brought into a forcible negative impression by the breath or moist air. (See Cyanotype.) The solution then described, and which had at that time been prepared some weeks, I may here incidentally remark, has retained its limpidity and photogenic properties, quite unimpaired during the whole year since elapsed, and is now as sensitive as ever,--a property of no small value. Now, when a picture (for example an impression from an engraving) is taken on paper washed with this solution, it shows no sign of a picture on its back, whether that on its face is developed or not; but if, while the actinic influence is still fresh upon the face, (i.e., as soon as it is removed from the light), the back be exposed for a very few seconds to the sunshine, and then removed to a gloomy place, a positive picture, the exact complement of the negative one on the other side, though wanting of course in sharpness if the paper be thick, slowly and gradually makes its appearance there, and in half an hour or an hour acquires a considerable intensity. I ought to mention that the "ferro-tartaric acid" in question is prepared by precipitating the ferro-tartrate of ammonia (ammonia-tartrate of iron) by acetate of lead, and decomposing the precipitate by dilute sulphuric acid. When lead is used in the preparation of Amphitype paper, the parts upon which the light has acted are found to be in a very high degree rendered water proof.--Sir J. Herschel. This process is a new invention of our countryman, J. A. Whipple, Esq., of Boston, and has been patented by M. A. Root, Esq., of Philadelphia. It will be seen, however, from the previous pages of my work that Mr. Root is mistaken in regard to his being the first improvement patented in this country, although it is unquestionably the first by an American. Of this improvement Mr. Root says: VI. "CRAYON DAGUERREOTYPE." "The improvement to which you refer is denominated "The Crayon Daguerreotype." This invention made by Mr. J. A. Whipple, is the only improvement in Daguerreotyping, I believe, for which Letters Patent for the United States were ever issued. The pictures produced by this process--which is of the simplest description imaginable--have the appearance and effect of very fine "Crayon Drawings," from which the improvement takes its name. Some of our most distinguished artists have given it their unqualified admiration. Among them, our Mezzotinto Engravers, especially John Sartain, Esq., who, from his rich embellishments to most of the leading Magazines and Annuals of the country, as well as from the celebrity of the superb Magazine which bears his name, is so well known and so well qualified to judge of its merits. As an auxiliary to the artist, in furnishing heads to the Magazines, or other works, it is invaluable; the great object which it accomplishes being to give a finer effect and more distinct expression to all the features--the whole power of the instrument being directed to, and confined to the head." "The late hour at which this subject has been brought to our notice prevents so full a description as we would otherwise have been glad to furnish. The New England States have been disposed of; negotiations for any of the others can be made through M. A. Root, 140 Chestnut street, Philadelphia." "A series of beautiful portraits are about being prepared by the "Crayton Process" for the express purpose of being placed on the exhibition at the "Art Union," when amateurs, artists, and the public generally will have an opportunity of witnessing its effect. We are especially gratified with this striking improvement, from the advantages which it promises to the Daguerrean art." "It is admirably designed to excite a new interest on the subject through the community, and in this way--and from its tendency to render the art more generally useful, and to elevate and distinguish it--to make it to all a matter of more general importance." "Yours respectfully, "M. A. ROOT." In our second edition, we hope--with Mr. Root's permission--to lay the whole process before the public, although our artists must bear in mind that Mr. Root's patent secures to him the exclusive right of its application. CHAP. XI. ON THE PROBABILITY OF PRODUCING COLORED PICTURES BY THE SOLAR RADIATIONS--PHOTOGRAPHIC DEVIATIONS--LUNAR PICTURES--DRUMMOND LIGHT. Having before noticed the fact that some advances had been made towards taking Daguerreotypes in color, by means of solar rays, and expressed the hope that the day was not far distant when this might be accomplished, I here subjoin Mr. Hunt's remarks on this subject. Mr. Biot, in 1840, speaking of Mr. Fox Talbot's beautiful calotype pictures, considers as an illusion "the hope to reconcile, not only the intensity but the tints of the chemical impressions produced by radiations, with the colors of the object from which these radiations emanated." It is true that three years have passed away, and we have not yet produced colored images; yet I am not inclined to consider the hope as entirely illusive. It must be remembered that the color of bodies depends entirely upon the arrangement of their molecules. We have numerous very beautiful experiments in proof of this. The bi-niodide of mercury is a fine scarlet when precipitated. If this precipitate is heated between plates of glass, it is converted into crystals of a fine sulphur yellow, which remain of that color if undisturbed, but which becomes very speedily scarlet if touched with any pointed instrument. This very curious optical phenomena has been investigated by Mr. Talbot and by Mr. Warrington. Perfectly dry sulphate of copper is white; the slightest moisture turns it blue. Muriate of cobalt is of a pale pink color; a very slight heat, by removing a little moisture, changes it to a green. These are a few instances selected from many which might be given. If we receive a prismatic spectrum on some papers, we have evidence that the molecular or chemical disturbance bears some relation to the color of each ray, or, in other words, that colored light so modifies the action of ENERGIA that the impression it makes is in proportion to the color of the light it accompanies, and hence there results a molecular arrangement capable of reflecting colors differently. Some instances have been given in which the rays impressed correspond with the colors of the luminous rays in a very remarkable manner.* One of the most decided cases is that of the paper prepared with the fluoride of soda and nitrate of silver. Sir John Herschel was, however, the first to obtain any good specimens of photographically impressed prismatic colorations. * See Mr. Hunt's "Researches on Light." It was noticed by Daguerre that a red house gave a reddish image on his iodized silver plate in the camera obscura; and Mr. Talbot observed, very early in his researches, that the red of a colored print was copied of a red color, on paper spread with the chloride of silver.** ** In 1842, I had shown me a picture of a house in the Bowery, which had been repaired a few days previous, and in the wall a red brick left. This brick was brought out on the Daguerreotype plate of precisely the same color as the brick itself. The same artist also exhibited to me, the full length portrait of a gentleman who were a pair of pantaloons having a blue striped figure. This blue stripe was fully brought out, of the same color, in the picture.--AMER. ED. "In 1840 I communicated to Sir John Herschel some very curious results obtained by the use of colored media, which he did me the honor of publishing in one of his memoirs on the subject from which I again copy it." "A paper prepared with muriate of barytes and nitrate of silver, allowed to darken whilst wet in the sunshine to a chocolate color, was placed under a frame containing a red, a yellow, a green, and a blue glass. After a week's exposure to diffused light, it became red under the red glass, a dirty yellow under the yellow glass, a dark green under the green, and a light olive under the blue. "The above paper washed with a solution of salt of iodine, is very sensitive to light, and gives a beautiful picture. A picture thus taken was placed beneath the above glasses, and another beneath four flat bottles containing colored fluids. In a few days, under the red glass and fluid, the picture became a dark blue, under the yellow a light blue, under the green it remained unchanged, whilst under the blue it became a rose red, which in about three weeks changed into green. Many other experiments of a similar nature have been tried since that time with like results. "In the summer of 1843, when engaged in some experiments on papers prepared according to the principles of Mr. Talbot's calotype, I had placed in a camera obscura a paper prepared with the bromide of silver and gallic acid. The camera embraced a picture of a clear blue sky, stucco-fronted houses, and a green field. The paper was unavoidably exposed for a longer period than was intended--about fifteen minutes,--a very beautiful picture was impressed, which, when held between the eye and the light, exhibited a curious order of colors. The sky was of a crimson hue, the houses of a slaty blue, and the green fields of a brick red tint. Surely these results appear to encourage the hope, that we may eventually arrive at a process by which external nature may be made to impress its images on prepared surfaces, in all the beauty of their native coloration." PHOTOGRAPHIC DEVIATIONS. Before taking leave of the subject of photogenic drawing, I must mention one or two facts, which may be of essential service to operators. It has been observed by Daguerre, and others, in Europe, and probably by some of our own artists, that the sun two hours after it has passed the meridian, is much less effective in the photographic process, than it is two hours previous to its having reached that point. This may depend upon an absorptive power of the air, which may reasonably be supposed to be more charged with vapor two hours before noon. The fuse of the hygrometer may possibly establish the truth or falsity of this supposition. The fact, however, of a better result being produced before noon being established, persons wishing their portraits taken, will see the advantage of obtaining an early sitting, if they wish good pictures. On the other hand, if the supposition above mentioned prove true, a too early sitting must be avoided. If we take a considerable thickness of a dense purple fluid, as, for instance, a solution of the ammonia-sulphate of copper, we shall find that the quantity of light is considerably diminished, at least four-fifths of the luminous rays being absorbed, while the chemical rays permeate it with the greatest facility, and sensitive preparations are affected by its influence, notwithstanding the deficiency of light, nearly as powerfully as if exposed to the undecomposed sunbeams. It was first imagined that under the brilliant sun and clear skies of the south, photographic pictures would be produced with much greater quickness than they could be in the atmosphere of Paris. It is found, however, that a much longer time is required. Even in the clear and beautiful light of the higher Alps, it has been proved that the production of the photographic picture requires many minutes more, even with the most sensitive preparations, than it does in London. It has also been found that under the brilliant light of Mexico, twenty minutes, and half an hour, are required to produce effects which in England would occupy but a minute; and travellers engaged in copying the antiquities of Yucatan have on several occasions abandoned the use of the photographic camera, and taken to their sketch books. Dr. Draper* has observed a similar difference between the chemical action of light in New York and Virginia. This can be only explained by the supposition that the intensity of the light and heat of these climes interferes with the action of the ENERGIC rays on those sensitive preparations which are employed. * I would here take occasion to remark that our country man, Dr. Draper, is very frequently quoted by Mr. Hunt in his "Researches." LUNAR PICTURES--DRUMMOND LIGHT. The Roman Astronomers state that they have procured Daguerreotype impressions of the Nebula of the sword of Orion. Signor Rondini has a secret method of receiving photographic images on lithographic stone; on such a prepared stone they have succeeded in impressing an image of the Nebula and its stars; "and from that stone they have been enabled to take impressions on paper, unlimited in number, of singular beauty, and of perfect precision." Experiments have, however, proved that "no heating power exists in the moon's rays, and that lunar light will not act chemically upon the iduret of silver." It was at one time supposed that terrestrial or artificial light possessed no chemical rays, but this is incorrect--Mr. Brande discovered that although the concentrated light of the moon, or the light even of olefiant gas, however intense, had no effect on chloride of silver, or on a mixture of chloride and hydrogen, yet the light emitted by electerized charcoal blackens the salt. At the Royal Polytechnic Institution pictures have been taken by means of sensitive paper acted upon by the Drummond Light; but it must of course be distinctly understood, that they are inferior to those taken by the light of the sun, or diffused daylight. If our operators could manage to produce good pictures in this way they would put money in their pockets, as many who cannot find time during the day would resort to their rooms at night. I throw out the hint in hopes some one will make the experiment. I have learned, since the above was written, that an operator in Boston succeeded a short time since in procuring very good pictures by the aid of the Drummond Light; but that the intensity of the light falling directly upon the sitter's face caused great difficulty, and he abandoned it. This may, probably, be remedied by interposing a screen of very thin tissue paper tinged slightly of a bluish color. CHAP. XII. ON COLORING DAGUERREOTYPES. Nearly, if not quite all the various colors used in painting may be made from the five primitive colors, black, white, blue, red and yellow, but for the Daguerrean artist it would be the best policy to obtain such as are required by their art already prepared. In a majority of cases, the following will be found sufficient, viz. Carmine. Prussian Blue. White. Chrome Yellow, Gamboge, Yellow Ochre; or all three.* *Gamboge is best for drapery; Ochre for the face. Light Red. Indigo. Burnt Sienna. Bistre, or Burnt Umber. If, in coloring any part of a lady's or gentleman's apparel, it is found necessary to produce other tints and shades, the following combinations may be used: Orange--Mix yellow with red, making it darker or lighter by using more or less red. Purple--This is made with Prussian blue, or indigo and red. Carmine and Prussian blue producing the richest color, which may be deepened in the shadows by a slight addition of indigo or brown. Greens--Prussian blue and gamboge makes a very fine green, which may be varied to suit the taste of the sitter or operator, by larger portions of either, or by adding white, burnt sienna, indigo, and red, as the case may require. These combinations, under different modifications, give almost endless varieties of green. Brown--May be made of different shades of umber, carmine and lamp-black. Neutral tint--Is composed of indigo and lamp-black. Crimson--Mix carmine and white, deepening the shaded parts of the picture with additional carmine. Flesh Color--The best representative of flesh color is light red, brightened in the more glowing or warmer parts, with carmine, softened off in the lighter portions with white, and shaded with purple and burnt sienna. Lead Color--Mix indigo and white in proportions to suit. Scarlet--Carmine and light red. For Jewelry cups of gold and silver preparations accompany each box for Daguerreotypists, or may be procured separately. The method of laying colors on Daguerreotypes is one of considerable difficulty, inasmuch as they are used in the form of perfectly dry impalpable powder. The author of this little work is now experimenting, in order, if possible, to discover some more easy, artistic and unexceptionable method. If successful, the result will be published in a future edition. The rules we shall give for coloring Daguerreotypes depends, and are founded, upon those observed in miniature painting, and are intended more as hints to Daguerrean artists, in hopes of leading them to attempt improvements, than as instructions wholly to be observed. The writer is confident that some compound or ingredient may yet be discovered which, when mixed with the colors, will give a more delicate, pleasing, and natural appearance to the picture than is derived from the present mode of laying them on, which in his estimation is more like plastering than coloring. IN COLORING DAGUERREOTYPES, the principal shades of the head are to be made with bistre, mixed with burnt sienna, touching some places with a mixture of carmine and indigo. The flesh tints are produced by the use of light red, deepened towards the shaded parts with yellow ochre, blue and carmine mixed with indigo, while the warmer, or more highly colored parts have a slight excess of carmine or lake. Color the shades about the mouth and neck with yellow ochre, blue, and a very little carmine, heightening the color of the lips with carmine and light red, letting the light red predominate on the upper, and the carmine on the lower lip; the shades in the corner of the mouth being touched slightly with burnt sienna, mixed with carmine. In coloring the eyes, the artist will of course be guided by nature, observing a very delicate touch in laying on the colors, so as to preserve as much transparency as possible. A slight touch of blue--ultramarine would be best if it would adhere to the Daguerreotype plate--in the whites of the eye near the iris, will produce a good effect. In coloring the heads of men it will be necessary to use the darker tints with more freedom, according to the complexion of the sitter. For women, the warmer tints should predominate, and in order to give that transparency so universal with the softer sex--and which gives so much loveliness and beauty to the face--a little white may be judiciously intermingled with the red tints about the lighter portions of the face. In taking a picture of a lady with light or auburn hair, by the Daguerrean process, much of the beauty of the face is destroyed, on account of the imperfect manner in which light conveys the image of light objects to the spectrum of the camera. This may be obviated in some measure by proper coloring. To do this, touch the shaded parts with burnt sienna and bistre, filling up the lighter portions with yellow ochre, delicate touches of burnt sienna, and in those parts which naturally have a bluish tint, add very delicate touches of purple--so delicate in fact as hardly to be perceived. The roots of the hair at the forehead should also be touched with blue, and the eyebrows near the temples made of a pinkish tint. The chin of a woman is nearly of the same color as the cheeks in the most glowing parts. In men it is stronger, and of a bluish tint, in order to produce the effect given by the beard. In portraits of women--the middle tints on the side of the light, which are perceived on the bosom and arms, are made of a slight mixture of ochre, blue and lake, (or carmine), to which add, on the shaded sides, ochre, bistre and purple, the latter in the darker parts. The tints of the hands should be the same as the other parts of the flesh, the ends of the fingers being a little pinkish and the nails of a violet hue. If any portion of the fleshy parts is shaded by portions of the dress, or by the position of the hand, this shade should be colored with umber mixed with purple. TO COLOR THE DRAPERY.--Violet Velvet--Use purple made of Prussian blue and carmine, touching up the shaded parts with indigo blue. Green Velvet--Mix Prussian blue and red-orpiment, shade with purple, and touch up the lights with a little white. Red Velvet--Mix a very little brown with carmine, shading with purple, marking the lights in the strongest parts with pure carmine, and touch the most brilliant slightly with white. White Feathers--May be improved by delicately touching the shaded parts with a little blue mixed with white. White muslin, linen, lace, satin, silk, etc., may also be colored in the same way, being careful not to lay the color on too heavily. FURS--Red Furs may be imitated by using light red and a little masticot, shaded with umber. Gray Furs--black and white mixed and shaded with bistre. Sable--white shaded lightly with yellow ochre. These few directions are quite sufficient for the art, and it is quite unnecessary for me to pursue the subject further. I would, however, remark that the Daguerreotypists would find it greatly to their advantage to visit the studies of our best artists, our public galleries of paintings, and statuary, and wherever else they can obtain a sight of fine paintings, and study the various styles of coloring, attitudes, folds of drapery and other points of the art. In coloring Daguerreotypes, artists will find the magnifying glass of much advantage in detecting any imperfections in the plate or in the image, which may be remedied by the brush. In selecting brushes choose those most susceptible of a fine point, which may be ascertained by wetting them between the lips, or in a glass of water. CHAP. XIII. THE PHOTOGRAPHOMETER. The last number (for March, 1849) of the London Art-Journal, gives the following description of a recent improvement in Photographic Manipulation, and as I am desirous of furnishing everything new in the art, I stop the press to add it, entire, to my work. "Since the photographic power of the solar rays bears no direct relation to their luminous influence, it becomes a question of considerable importance to those who practice the beautiful art of photography, to have the means of readily measuring the ever changing activity of this force. Several plans more or less successful, have been devised by Sir John Herschel, Messrs. Jordan, Shaw and Hunt. The instrument, however, which is now brought forward by Mr. Claudet, who is well known as one of our most successful Daguerreotypists, appears admirably suited to all those purposes which the practical man requires. The great difficulty which continually annoys the photographic amateur and artist, is the determination of the sensibility of each tablet employed, relatively to the amount of radiation, luminous and chemical, with which he is working. With the photographometer of Mr. Claudet this is easily ascertained. The following woodcuts and concise description will sufficiently indicate this useful and simple apparatus. [Illustration: Fig. 30 (hipho_30.gif)] "For an instrument of this kind it is important in the first place to have a motion always uniform, without complicated or expensive mechanism. This is obtained by means founded upon the principle of the fall of bodies sliding down an inclined plane. The sensitive surface is exposed to the light by the rapid and uniform passage of a metal plate, A, B, (Fig. 31,) having openings of different length, which follow a geometric progression. It is evident that the exposure to light will be the same for each experiment, because the plate furnished with the proportional openings falls always with the same rapidity, the height of the fall being constant, and the angle of the inclined plane the same. Each opening of this moveable plate allows the light to pass during the same space of time, and the effect upon the sensitive surface indicates exactly the intensity of the chemical rays. The rapidity of the fall may be augmented or diminished by altering the inclination of the plane by means of a graduated arc, C, D, (Fig. 30,) furnished with a screw, E, by which it may be fixed at any angle. The same result may be obtained by modifying the height of the fall or the weight of the moveable plate. The photogenic surface, whether it be the Daguerreotype plate, the Talbotype paper, or any other preparation sensitive to light, is placed near the bottom of the inclined plane, F. It is covered by a thin plate of metal, pierced with circular holes, which correspond to the openings of the moveable plate at the moment of the passage of the latter, during which the sensitive surface receives the light wherever the circular holes leave it exposed. [Illustration: Fig. 31 (hipho_31.gif)] "The part of the apparatus which contains the sensitive surface is an independent frame, and it slides from a dark box into an opening on the side of the inclined plane. "A covering of black cloth impermeable to light is, attached to the sides of the moveable plate, enveloping the whole inclined plane, rolling freely over two rollers, R, R, placed the one at the upper and the other at the lower part of the inclined plane. This cloth prevents the light striking the sensitive surface before and after the passage of the moveable plate. "It will be seen that this apparatus enables the experimentalist to ascertain with great precision the exact length of time which is required to produce a given amount of actinic change upon any sensitive photographic surface, whether on metal or paper. Although at present some calculation is necessary to determine the difference between the time which is necessary for exposure in direct radiation, and to the action of the secondary radiations of the camera obscura; this is, however, a very simple matter, and it appears to us exceedingly easy to adapt an instrument of this description to the camera itself. "By this instrument Mr. Claudet has already determined many very important points. Among others, he has proved that on the most sensitive Daguerreotype plate an exposure of .0001 part of a second is sufficient to produce a decided effect. "Regarding photography as an auxiliary aid to the artist of no mean value, we are pleased to record a description of an instrument which, without being complicated, promises to be exceedingly useful. In this opinion we are not singular; at a recent meeting of the Photographic Club, to which this instrument was exhibited, it was with much real satisfaction that we learned that several of our most eminent artists were now eager and most successful students in Photography. The beautiful productions of the more prominent members of this club excited the admiration of all, particularly the copies of architectural beauties, and small bits of landscape, by Messrs. Cundell and Owen. We think that now the artist sees the advantage he may derive from the aid of science, that both will gain by the union." I hope the above description will induce our townsman, Mr. Roach, to successfully produce an instrument that will meet the wants of our artists in that part of the Daguerrean process referred to. FINIS. INDEX. Accelerating Liquids. 65 Amphitype. 116 Anthotype. 113 Apparatus. Daguerreotype. 43 Calotype 97 Photogenic 87 Application of Photogenic Drawing. 95 Applying the Sensitive. 64 Bringing out the Picture. 71 Bromine Box. 51 Chloride of 68 Roach's Tripple Compound of 67 water. 65 Bromide of Iodine. 67 of Lime. 68 Paper. 91 of silver. 35 Brushes. 88 Buff Sticks. 60 Calotype process. 97 paper. Exposure in Camera of 100 Pictures. Bringing out ib. Fixing 101 Camera. Description of the 43 Stand. 49 Woodbridge's ib. Calotype. 50 Voigtlander 45 Chloride of Bromine. 68 of Gold. 36 to make a solution of 75 of Iodine. 66 of Silver. 31 Chromatype. 112 Chrysotype. 106 Cleaning and Polishing the plate. 61 Coating Boxes. 51 Color Boxes. 53 Colored Daguerreotypes on Copper. 77 Coloring the Picture. 76 Daguerreotypes. 129 Concave Mirrors. 19 Convex Mirrors 19 Corchorus Japonica. 37 Crayon Daguerreotypes. 120 Cyanotype 109 Daguerreotype Apparatus. 43 Process. 61 Plates. 62 Daguerreotypes. Crayon 77 on paper 81 Dedication. iii Definitions of terms used in optics, 15 Different methods of preparing photogenic paper. 89 Directions for use of Galvanic Battery. 58 Distilled water 88 Drummond light. 128 Dry Sensitive. 68 Drying apparatus. 72 Effects of light on bodies 25 Energiatype 111 Etching Daguerreotypes. 83 Fifth operation. Fixing the picture. 61 First operation. Cleaning the plate 61 Fluoric acid. 69 Fourth operation-Bringing out the picture. 71 Funnels. 53 Galvanic Battery. 57 Solution for use of 58 Gilding stand. 53 the picture. 74 Gold. Chloride of 36 To make solution of 75 Hyposulphite; or Salt of 74 Preparation of. 36 Gurney's Sensitive. 67 Head Rests. 57 Hints and Suggestions. 39 History of Photography. 3 Hungarian Liquid. 69 Hygrometers. 55 Hyposulphite of Gold. 74 of Soda. 28 Instantaneous pictures by means of Galvanism. 77 Introduction. i Iodine, Dry 64 Chloride of 66 Bromide of 67 Box. 51 Iodide of silver. 32 Ioduret of silver. 33 Iodize the Plate. To 64 Iodized Paper for Calotypes. To prepare 98 To prepare for the Camera ib. Lamps, Spirit 53 Light. Theory on 14 Motion of 16 Reflection of 17 Refraction of 20 on bodies. Effects of 25 Prismatic analysis of 22 Lime, Bromide of 68 Lunar Pictures. 127 Mead's Accelerator. 68 Mercury Bath 50 Nitrate of Silver. 89 Oxide of Silver. 29 On coloring Daguerreotypes 129 On the probability of Producing colored Photographs. 123 Paper. blotting; or bibulous, 88 Daguerreotypes. 81 preparation of 89 suitable for Photographs. 87 Photogenic drawing on ib Photographic principle, the 22 Photographic process on paper. 92 drawing. Application of 95 To fix the 93 deviations. 126 Photographometer, The 135 Plate Support. 59 Blocks. 50 Vice. 51 Poppy, The Red 37 Porcelain dishes. 59 Positive Calotype 104 Preface. v Preparation of Iodized Paper. 98 of Gold. 36 Prismatic Spectrum. 22 Analysis of Light. ib Reflection of Light. 17 Refraction of Light. 20 Roach's Tripple Compound of Bromine. 67 Sand Clock. 70 Sealing paper. To make 77 Second operation. 94 Sensitive. ib Silver. Bromide of 35 Chloride of 31 Iodide of 32 Ioduret of 33 Nitrate of 89 Oxide of 28 Solution of Chloride of 59 Sixth operation. 74 Soda Hyposulphite of 72 Solar and Stellar Light. 21 Still for purifying water, 54 Submitting the Plate to the action of Light 69 Synopsis of Mr. Hunt's Treatise on Light, 29 Talbotype Camera. 50 Theory on Light. 14 Third operation. 69 Wall Flower. 37 
40468	----	images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) THE BARNET BOOK OF PHOTOGRAPHY. THE BARNET BOOK OF PHOTOGRAPHY. A COLLECTION OF PRACTICAL ARTICLES BY CAPT. W. DE W. ABNEY, C.B., F.R.S., ETC. CHARLES H. BOTHAMLEY, F.C.S., F.I.C. CHAPMAN JONES, F.C.S., F.I.C. HAROLD BAKER A. HORSLEY HINTON JOHN H. AVERY W. THOMAS ANDREW PRINGLE JOHN A. HODGES, F.R.P.S. REV. F. C. LAMBERT, M.A. W. ETHELBERT HENRY, C.E. JAMES PACKHAM, F.R.P.S. THO'S. S. SKELTON [Illustration] THIRD EDITION. Published by ELLIOTT & SON, BARNET, HERTS. PERCY LUND, HUMPHRIES & CO., LTD., 3, AMEN CORNER, LONDON, E.C. 1898. [Illustration] CONTENTS OF THE BOOK. PAGE. ALPINE PHOTOGRAPHY. _W. de W. Abney, C.B., F.R.S._ 9 NEGATIVE MAKING. _C. H. Bothamley, F.C.S., F.I.C._ 23 LENSES. _Chapman Jones, F.C.S., F.I.C._ 57 PORTRAITURE. _Harold Baker_ 77 PICTORIAL PHOTOGRAPHY. _A. Horsley Hinton_ 87 ARCHITECTURAL PHOTOGRAPHY. _John H. Avery_ 117 THE HAND CAMERA AND ITS USE. _W. Thomas_ 131 LANTERN SLIDES. _Andrew Pringle_ 141 HOW TO MAKE ENLARGEMENTS. _John A. Hodges, F.R.P.S._ 155 P.O.P. _Rev. F. C. Lambert, M.A._ 177 PLATINOTYPE PRINTING. _A. Horsley Hinton_ 197 CONTACT PRINTING ON BROMIDE PAPER. _W. Ethelbert Henry, C.E._ 225 THE GUM-BICHROMATE PROCESS. _Jas. Packham, F.R.P.S._ 241 AN INTRODUCTION TO CARBON PRINTING FOR BEGINNERS 253 THE CARBON PROCESS. _Thomas S. Skelton_ 261 ILLUSTRATIONS. HOMEWARDS. KARL GREGER 16 AMONG THE ALPS. W. DE W. ABNEY 24 WINTER TIME ON THE ALPS. W. DE W. ABNEY 40 MELTON MEADOWS. A. HORSLEY HINTON 72 MISS LILY HANBURY--A PORTRAIT. HAROLD BAKER 88 GATHER THE ROSES WHILE YE MAY. ALEX. KEIGHLEY 120 BIRCH AND BRACKEN. W. THOMAS 136 DRIFTING STORM CLOUDS. W. THOMAS 168 STREONSALCH. W. J. WARREN 200 CUPBOARD LOVE. T. LEE SYMS 232 AT THE FOUNTAIN. J. W. WADE 264 PREFACE. [Illustration: THE BARNET BOOK OF PHOTOGRAPHY.] _The purpose of this book is to place in the hands of every Photographer instructive articles on essential processes and manipulations, by eminent writers who have given such subjects their especial study, and who have borne in mind that whilst the experienced Amateur and the Professional may each find much to learn from a comparatively elementary description of methods and means, it is the Beginner who stands in greatest need of help._ _In the mind of every photographer the name of Barnet is inseparable from a great Photographic Industry, and now it is intended that the name shall be associated with a good and useful book, which is called the_ BARNET BOOK OF PHOTOGRAPHY, _and it is left to the reader to say if the fulfilment of its purpose and the manner of its doing are such as to justify its existence._ _To all who are interested in photography, who love it for itself and for its productions, and who desire to improve their own practice of its many processes and applications, this Book is respectfully dedicated._ _Barnet, Herts._ _April, 1898._ _ELLIOTT & SON._ [Illustration: COPYRIGHT. NEGATIVE BY W. L. F. WASTELL. A FAMOUS PIKE STREAM. Contact Print on BARNET PLATINO-MATT BROMIDE PAPER.] _Alpine Photography._ [Illustration] Writing in London on a day in winter with a murky sky and sloshy streets, the title of Alpine Photography is verily refreshing. It brings back days of sunlight and joyous experiment, and as we write the soul stirring scenery is before us called up by photographs taken under varying conditions of comfort and discomfort. That there is something different in Alpine photography to photography in our own country, we are bound to believe, since a special article is demanded for it. The first question invariably asked is as to the nature of the outfit required. We should here like to divide our reply into two divisions. The one concerning the mountaineer, and the other the ordinary tourist. For the former we have no doubt in our minds that a hand camera to take 1/4 plate or 5 × 4 pictures is the most convenient form of camera to take. It is not our business to advertise any person's wares and we shall content ourselves by saying that personally we prefer a camera which has separate slides and does not possess a magazine, more particularly when glass plates are to be used, though a form of Kodak is not to be despised. But perhaps we are prejudiced in favour of glass plates, for they are simple to manipulate and have no cockles nor other drawbacks which the careless photographer may have to encounter. Probably the most useful lens to employ is a doublet of which the focal length is about a quarter more than the width of the plate, since it includes a fair angle and the margins of the photographs are not likely to be markedly different in general density to the centre, as is the case when wide-angle lenses are employed. In England a lens which will cover with a large stop, say _f_/8, is a desideratum, but in the Alps it is very rarely that such a large ratio of aperture to focal length is required. As a rule for ordinary plates a lens has to be stopped down to _f_/16 to give a negative in say 1/50th of a second. Nevertheless where orthochromatic plates are to be employed it is very necessary to have a lens which will cover a plate satisfactorily with _f_/8 in order to use a colour screen for producing orthochromatic effects, since the loss of photographic light caused by the screen can only be compensated for by such an aperture even when the shutter is slowed down. The reader is therefore recommended on the whole to furnish himself with one of the modern lenses which work at _f_/8, though he must remember that the larger the aperture employed the more the margins and centre of the picture will suffer from unequal exposure. With some hand cameras there is a means of attachment to a stand, but a stand on a mountain is difficult to use and moreover has on more than one occasion been proved dangerous to carry. The mountaineer if he desires to give a time--and not an instantaneous--exposure on his excursion, would do well to have a small clip ready to attach to the head of his ice axe. The axe will form a sufficiently stable stand for the more prolonged, but still short, exposure that he may be required to give on some particular subjects such as a photograph at sunrise or near sunset. Photographers in England are rarely afflicted with breathlessness through exertion, but it is different in mountaineering. A mountaineer may keep his wind, but it would be rare to find that his heart was beating equably after some spurt of exertion, such as rock climbing. It is often after some such exertion that he comes upon some view which he may wish to record on his photographic plate. The usual method of holding the hand camera would under such circumstances prove a failure so far as sharpness of image is concerned. Pressed against his "middle" or "upper" chest, the beatings of the heart will record themselves on the photograph. Under such circumstances resort must be had to some form of support on which to rest his camera. After many years' experience, the writer has come to the conclusion that there is no support superior to the ice axe. It is not necessary to cause it to stand upright in the ground, ice, or snow, though this should be done if possible. It will suffice to rest the point on the rock, and place the camera on the axe head, with the pick parallel to the body. We then have a firm support in one direction, and the hands, which are not affected by the automatic motion of the heart, can be trusted to keep it steady in the other direction. Photographs taken with a good lens, and with such a stand, will bear enlarging up to 22 inches, at least. It is because these photographs will bear enlarging that a small plate is recommended to the mountaineer. There is not a large proportion of Alpine views taken on the mountain side of which one would care to have anything but a memorandum, and it is such a size as that recommended which gives such a memento, and which, if desired, allows a more formidable size to be acquired at home, where we may suppose there are all the conveniences that a photographic laboratory affords. The writer has had experience on mountains with cameras varying from 12 × 10 to the 1/4 plate size. When younger and more inclined to waste a few valuable minutes of daylight in putting up a camera stand, the 12 × 10 gave pictures which we often lamented having taken, whilst in his more mature years, a snap-shot has never been regretted. The cameras which require stands, require one porter at least to carry them, for although the late Mr. Donkin carried his own 7-1/2 × 5 camera up the highest peaks, it is few men, who, even if they had the energy or the physique that he had, would imitate his example. A porter means an extra expense in fees, and an extra mouth to feed, and very likely entails slowness in a climb through having an additional man upon the rope. A quarter plate or a 5 × 4 camera the owner, however, can himself carry; but the best form of attaching it to his body has been a difficult task to evolve. Many and many different attachments have been tried. One thing is quite certain, and that is, the camera should be in a stout case, but it cannot be carried over the shoulders by a strap as we can do in comparatively level countries. Let anyone try to come down a rock with the camera slung over his shoulders, and he will soon find it dangling in front of his stomach, or swinging like a pendulum, and threatening to displace him from what at best may be a treacherous handhold. The method of attachment we adopt now, will be readily seen from the diagram. [Illustration] The shoulder strap is utilized, but a ring is attached to the back of the case as shown, and a strap or piece of whipcord comes over the strap as shown. The two shoulders are in AA and the case is carried as a knapsack. The length of the cord or strap BB is so adjusted, as is also the length of the shoulder strap, that the camera lies against the small of the back, and that it will not swing away from the body. At one time the ring was placed in front of the case, but the result was merely to cause the top of the case to rest against the back. The plan shown above has answered under almost every variety of circumstances, and the weight is inconsiderable. (A friend has his camera attached to the bottom of a small "rücksac" and this answers, but as the writer does not carry his own provisions or change of garments he has not adopted this plan). A long day's march may be undertaken if this contrivance be employed, and the weight is scarcely felt. For those who have not had extensive practice with hand cameras, a view finder is, if not a necessity, at all events, a great help. On the whole, perhaps the best form is that in which a miniature view falls on a ground glass. It must be recollected, however, that each view finder is adapted for some particular focal length of lens. The view in the finder and on the plate should be compared, and if the former is more extensive, the surplus ground glass should be covered up with a black mask. If it be determined to take a camera with its stand, very few directions are required beyond those which apply to ordinary view work on the plains. It may perhaps be as well to mention that a camera stand placed on ice or snow, is not immovable until the iron shoes of the legs attain the temperature of the surrounding snow or ice. An exposure of a few seconds will often show an image which has moved on the plate. The next point that we may call attention to is the plate to be employed. With a hand camera there is no absolute necessity to have the most rapid plate, as far as exposure is concerned, but in mountain work it must be recollected that there are very great contrasts to represent on the print. "The slower the plate the steeper the gradation" is almost axiomatic, and it must be recollected that only a certain amount of opacity will print if the deepest shadows only are to be kept of the greatest black obtainable in a print. It is evident that the greater the range of light and shade that is obtained of a printable density, the more true to nature the picture will be. For this reason a quick plate with a moderate gradation is to be preferred--as being most generally useful--but it should be a plate which is absolutely free from fog, and it should also be of as fine a grain as possible, the size of which has something to do with development. This is still more true when a camera stand and hand exposures are made. With a slow plate with feebler intensities of light, which must be the case when the lens is stopped down to admit of hand exposures, the gradation becomes more steep than if a fairly bright light be employed. A quick plate does not suffer in the same way, however small the stop may be. It has already been stated that isochromatic plates may be employed with a hand camera. For ice and snow views there is not much to commend their employment, unless to give a deeper shade to the sky and to the vast crevasses which so often form part of the foreground. The darker sky allows faint clouds to be visible in a print when they otherwise would be absent. Pictorially thus the isochromatic plate has something to recommend it. Celluloid films have often been substituted for plates by the writer, and excellent photographs have been obtained on them when they were fairly rapid. There is not much to be said in their favour as regards weight, for in most cameras the support for them weighs nearly as much as the glass plate. There is also a disadvantage in developing them, for they are not so easily manipulated as a rigid body. For convenience in travelling, however, they are to be highly commended. A gross of cut films do not weigh so much as a dozen plates and occupy much less space in the baggage. The question of the use of a Kodak camera with its roller slide, has not been brought forward, not because excellent results cannot be obtained with it, but simply because the writer prefers to use plates and films which can be got at any time for the purpose of development. For travelling on the continent, and to one's mountain destination, experience has shown that a small hamper is the safest receptacle of all the necessary kit. A hamper which will contain two camera cases side by side is really sufficient; but it should be a little greater in depth. It may be thought that two cameras are to be taken, but such is not the intention. If a zinc trough be made of the size of one camera case it will contain all the developing apparatus necessary, the lantern, and the plates or films, and all the few etceteras which go to make one happy. (A screwdriver, a file, and some extra screws, and gummed paper and white blotting paper cut to the size of the plates should be enough for the etceteras). The hamper may be arranged so that the camera and view finder may be taken out without any derangement of the rest of the articles in it. The developing bottles and cups, with the dishes, may be similarly extracted. This prevents undue trouble in unpacking and packing. One grand thing to remember is, pack well but not distressingly tightly, in other words don't employ an expert packer if you wish for comfort. Have the hamper a size too large rather than a size too small. Also be it remembered that it is useless to stopper the bottles with all sorts of devices at home, and have to pack in an ordinary manner when once the contents of the hamper have been brought into use. Have your bottles covered with an indiarubber cap which can easily be removed and replaced; of course we are assuming that development is to take place during one's travels, and not to be left over for home. Personally we think that a speedy development after a view is taken will give the best picture. It may often happen that an undeveloped sensitive plate or film will suffer by its travels. There will or may be scratches and what not, which would be absent if the negative is finished at the time. The outfit for development which need only be taken is as follows: four developing dishes, bottles or cartridges of the dry developer, ammonia diluted to half its strength in a glass stoppered bottle (if in a wooden case, as for medicine bottles, it will be a further protection), a couple of tins of hyposulphite _pounded up_ before the journey, carried in small tins (such tins as the half-plate platinum paper comes in are very convenient), two or three empty six ounce medicine bottles with good corks, a two or four ounce measure, a washing rack with a trough (there is a folding rack in the market which answers admirably; it has =v= shaped grooves which never damage the edges of the film, and one rack will take twenty-two glasses back to back). A zinc trough can be made to cover the plates with water when in the rack, a lantern (by preference a paper folding one), a dusting brush, a couple of dusters, and blotting paper cut into squares the size of the plates, with which to pack them--it is useful also to have spare pieces of blotting paper to place beneath the plates when drying, also a piece of mackintosh to place on the wash stand during developing operations--an empty pint wine bottle will be got at any hotel and in this the hyposulphite can be dissolved. The list looks formidable but the whole can be readily packed in the hamper of the size given. It will be seen that no intensifying solutions are enumerated amongst the requisites. A negative is better strengthened in the quiet of one's dark-room at home. [Illustration: HOMEWARDS. KARL GREGER.] Now we must give a hint or two as to the exposures required. We will suppose that on the plates to be used a satisfactory negative of an open English landscape, on a bright June day with fleecy clouds in the sky, can be secured with an aperture of _f_/11 in 1/25th of a second. If that be so, then on an equally fine day in July or August, at an altitude of about 6000 feet, the same kind of view should theoretically be secured in 1/50th second, and a stop of _f_/16--that is, the photographic light is about four times as strong. It must, however, be recollected that at this altitude, and particularly near mid-day, the shadows are not illuminated to the same degree from the sky. The darker blue sky shows that the light which at a low altitude goes to make a pale blue sky is to be found in the direct rays of the sun, and not scattered to give a luminous sky. As the shadows are principally illuminated by the light from the sky, it follows that the shadows will be darker at a high than at a low altitude, for this reason amongst others, the exposure should not be curtailed to the amount given above. If the aperture be reduced to _f_/16 it is probable that the exposure of 1/25th second will be not more than sufficient to give. For our own part we prefer to give longer and to expose well for the deep shadows, trusting to development to give us properly "gradated" pictures. As the sun goes down toward the horizon, the shadows get more illumined from local reflection, and it is scarcely necessary to alter the exposure until considerably nearer sunset than at home, when the exposure must be considerably prolonged. For views in which there is little but ice and snow, the exposure should be very much curtailed. There is so little contrast that if the exposure be at all prolonged the picture will be inevitably flat. The shadows are illumined by an immense quantity of light reflected from the white surface, and the difficulty is to get sufficient contrast. The writer well remembers one set of beautiful views, taken from the top of a mountain some 10,000 feet high, where the eye could see nothing but snow-fields and ice and swirling masses of clouds. The day was not bright, but to get a satisfactory picture a stop of _f_/32 was necessary with only an exposure of 1/70th of a second. Plates given an exposure of 1/25th second with a stop _f_/16 showed little besides a plain white mass. It would be difficult to give hints for every kind of view. The judgment of the operator must be brought into play and no actinometer will be of much use under the varied conditions which are the rule, not the exception. Now as to development. The "one-solution" given by the metol and amidol cartridges are the most readily prepared, and in five times out of six will scarcely be bettered, but for the sixth time may fail, because of their "rigidity." For these exceptional negatives, solutions of an oxidizing agent such as pyrogallol, of a restrainer (bromide), and of an accelerator are to be recommended. For the latter, the carbonate (not the bicarbonate) of potash is much to be recommended, though some prefer ammonia. Two formulæ are given, either of which will be found extremely useful. When the exposure has been prolonged enough for details in deep shadows to be brought out, it will generally happen that over-exposure has been given to the high-lights, and it is to keep these in the printing state that care is required. In the old collodion dry plate days, it was very usual to bring out a complete phantom image of a subject before any density was given to it. When this was properly out, the intensifier of silver nitrate and pyrogallol was applied, and the picture gradually brought up to printing density. It was usually full of detail in the high-lights and shadows, all of which would be found in the finished print. Such is the same procedure which we recommend, strive to get out an image of feeble density but full of detail, and then give the density. The plate should first of all be thoroughly soaked in a solution of the alkali which can be used, and then a few drops of the pyrogallol solution be dropped into the developing cup with an equal number of drops of the restrainer. The alkaline solution is then returned to the cup and again poured into the dish and over the plate. By degrees the required phantom image will make its appearance, and now bromide and pyrogallol are added until it is evidently complete. The plate is then washed in water, a final wash being given in a very weak solution of acetic acid or citric and water. After a final rinse with water the plate is treated with the pyrogallol solution and restrainer in the proportion recommended for the ordinary development of the plate, omitting the alkali. The density will begin to appear, and when it flags, a little alkali is added (a few drops at a time) to the solution. Keep the image fairly feeble at above half the proper printing density, and fix. The plate should then be kept for intensification, preferably by Mr. Chapman Jones's, when a mercury solution is applied, and then a ferrous oxalate to reduce the latter to the metallic state. It will be found if this procedure is adopted, that the negative is built up with a greater range of light gradation than by bringing it out by a one-solution method of development. If one wishes to exercise artistic treatment, then in the preliminary stage more importance can be given to any desired part by applying a camel's hair brush soaked in normal pyrogallol solution with its restrainer. The prominence thus gained will be kept in the subsequent operations. When applying the brush care must be taken that the image blends as it were with the rest of the picture. No abrupt increase of density must be permitted, as if it be, the result will be anything but satisfactory. The following is an ammonia-pyro developer, with which the writer usually works. A Ammonia 1 part. Water 9 parts. (Of course, should the ammonia be taken half strength allowance must be made for the dilution.) B Potassium bromide 20 grains. Water 1 ounce. (When travelling it is very convenient to have the bromide weighed out into 20 grain packets.) P Pyrogallol dry. S Saturated solution of sulphite of soda. When the view has strong contrasts and the plate has been exposed for the shadows take of A 30 minims and 2 ounces of water and soak the plate in it as given above. Then add to the cup, of B 2 drams, of S 1 dram, and about quarter grain of P. Pour back the solution of ammonia from the dish, and then apply the mixture till all detail appears, and proceed as indicated above. A saturated solution of potassium carbonate may be substituted for the ammonia solution. Before closing this chapter it may be of use to the reader to tabulate the number of thicknesses of atmospheres through which light has to travel at different altitudes of the sun at sea level. Altitude. Atmosphere. 90° 1.000 80° 1.015 70° 1.064 60° 1.155 50° 1.305 40° 1.555 30° 1.995 20° 2.904 15° 3.809 10° 5.571 5° 10.216 4° 12.151 2° 18.882 0° 35.503 If sunlight outside the atmosphere be represented by 1 and say 1/10th be cut off by 1 atmosphere, then after transmission through 2 atmospheres only .81 will reach the spectator, and if through 3 only .729. For any atmosphere the diminution will be 1/10th, that is, it will be .9^_x_ where _x_ is the number of atmospheres. If we ascend the factor varies, there are less thicknesses of atmosphere to go through and we get the following table. Photographically Visual Transmission Actinic Light Barometer (Sunlight outside Transmitted in Inches. the Atmospheric (Sunlight outside being 1). the Atmospheric being 1). 30 .853 .639 29 .866 .654 28 .875 .672 27 .884 .689 26 .891 .708 25 .899 .730 24 .908 .746 23 .915 .763 22 .922 .787 21 .928 .800 20 .934 .819 19 .940 .833 This table and the preceding one will enable a calculation to be made as to the exposure to be given. Thus at sea level with a photographic brightness of sun of 639,000 candles when nearly overhead, it will at 5° above the horizon only have a photographic brightness of about 1000. At about 9000 feet high the photographic brightness would when the sun is overhead be about 800,000 candles, and at 5° it would have a value of 350,000, showing the greater penetration through the thinner atmosphere. _W. de W. Abney, C.B., F.R.S., etc., etc._ Negative Making. DEVELOPMENT, INTENSIFICATION, REDUCING, Etc. [Illustration] When a sensitive plate has been properly exposed under ordinary conditions, there is no visible change. The action of light produces what is known as a _latent image_ or _developable image_, and in order to convert this into a visible image with sufficient opacity to be useful for printing purposes, it must be _developed_. In the operation of development, the plate is treated with some solution that will act on the exposed parts of the sensitive film and reduce the silver salts contained therein to metallic silver, in quantity proportional to the amount of light-action, whilst at the same time it produces no appreciable change in those parts of the film on which light has acted the least or not at all, and which correspond to the darkest shadows of the object that has been photographed. The solution used for this purpose is called the _developer_. DEVELOPERS--GENERAL. The substances that can be employed as photographic developers are now somewhat numerous, but the most useful for negative making are pyrogallic acid (also known as pyrogallol, or for brevity as pyro.), ortol, metol, and hydroquinone (also known as quinol). Ferrous oxalate is likewise used in special circumstances, but not for general work. An ordinary developer as mixed for use contains:-- 1.--One of the above-mentioned substances (pyrogallic acid, ortol, metol, quinol) which is the actual developing constituent, and is known as _the reducer_, but requires the addition of the next constituent before it can work. 2.--An alkali, which may be sodium carbonate, potassium carbonate, caustic soda, caustic potash, or, if pyrogallic acid is used, ammonia. The alkali sets the reducer in action and is called _the accelerator_. 3.--A soluble bromide, which must be potassium bromide except when ammonia is used as the alkali, and then it may be ammonium bromide. The chief use of the bromide is to retard the action of the developer, and in particular to prevent its affecting those parts of the film that have not been acted on by light. For this reason the bromide is called _the restrainer_ or, sometimes, _the retarder_. 4.--A sulphite, the function of which is to prevent the solution from becoming strongly discoloured and consequently staining the film. It also affects the colour of the reduced silver that forms the developed image, this colour being browner, and consequently of higher printing opacity, the lower the proportion of sulphite present. Sodium sulphite and potassium metabisulphite are the most commonly used. The composition of a developer has to be so arranged that, whilst reasonably rapid in its action, it is not so rapid as to be beyond control, and does not produce "general fog" by acting on those parts of the film that have not been acted on by light. [Illustration: AMONG THE ALPS. CAPT. W. DE W. ABNEY, C.B., F.R.S. ETC.] DEVELOPMENT--GENERAL OPERATIONS AND PHENOMENA. A developer is usually compounded immediately before use by mixing two or more solutions, and in order to ensure uniform action it is essential that the constituents should be thoroughly mixed before the liquid is applied to the plate. If the measuring or mixing vessel is large enough, this can be done by agitating the liquid; if not, the liquid may be poured once or twice from one vessel to another. The quantity of developer necessary for a plate of a given size depends in some degree upon the size and character of the dish that is used, and is smallest when the bottom of the dish is quite flat and has no ridges or grooves. It is false economy to use too small a quantity, and it may be taken that for a quarter plate 1-1/2 oz., for a half plate 2-1/2 or 3 oz., and for a whole plate 4 oz. of developer should be used. Ebonite, xylonite, or papier maché dishes are the best for all operations connected with negative making, since they are not so liable as porcelain or earthenware to break a plate if it is allowed to drop into them. When applying the developer to the plate it is important to cover the whole surface of the plate rapidly and in such a manner as to avoid the formation of air bubbles, and the best way is to begin to pour on the developer at one corner of the developing dish and whilst pouring somewhat quickly move the vessel rapidly but steadily along the edge of the dish to the other corner. If there should be any froth or air bubbles on the surface of the developer, the last portions should not be poured out of the vessel into the dish, and then the risk of air bubbles forming on the surface of the plate will be lessened. Sometimes after the developer has been poured on and the plate seems to be uniformly wetted, the liquid will recede from one corner or one edge of the plate and the part thus left uncovered will appear as a patch of lower opacity when the negative is finished. This happens either because the dish is not standing level on the table or because the bottom of the dish is not flat; sometimes it happens because too small a quantity of developer has been used. After the plate has been covered by the developer the dish should be carefully rocked from time to time, and, for reasons that will be explained presently, the time required for the first appearance of the image and the manner in which the different parts of the image follow one another, should be carefully observed. If the plate has been correctly exposed, the brightest parts of the image will appear (as black, of course,) in about a minute, more or less, according to the temperature, composition of the developer, and character of the plate, and the other parts will follow steadily in the order of their brightness, after which the image as a whole will continue to gain vigour or opacity up to a certain limit. The essential point is that the principal details in the deepest shadows of the subject shall appear and acquire a distinct printable opacity, before the highest lights become so opaque that the details in them are no longer distinguishable. Whether this condition is realisable or not depends very largely on the exposure that the plate has received. If the image appears in considerably less than a minute and the different parts follow one another very quickly, the plate has been _over-exposed_, and the degree of over-exposure is indicated by the rapidity with which the image appears. In this connection it ought, however, to be stated that with metol and certain other developers, even when the plate has been correctly exposed, the different parts of the image appear almost simultaneously, though the first appearance may not begin until about a minute after the developer has been applied to the plate. It follows that with these developers it is difficult to recognise over-exposure, but it so happens that they are not suitable developers to use when there is any probability that the plates have been over-exposed. On the other hand, if the image is slow in appearing and the brightest parts of the subject are not followed in due course by the middle tones, the plate has been _under-exposed_, and there is considerable danger that the high-lights may become quite opaque before any details have appeared in the shadows, or even, in extreme cases, in the lower middle tones, that is to say, in those parts that are next in darkness to the shadows. When it is desired, as it frequently is, to alter the composition of the developer during development, the substance or substances to be added should be put into the measuring or mixing glass, the developer poured out of the dish into the glass, and the well-mixed liquid poured over the plate as before. Any attempt to add substances to the developer whilst it is in contact with the plate will probably result in uneven action. It should be borne in mind that temperature has an important influence on development, the time required for the first appearance of the image and for the completion of development being, as a rule, less the higher the temperature. Further, if the developing solutions are very cold, it is often almost impossible to obtain sufficient opacity. Perhaps the most difficult thing in connection with development is to know when to stop the process, that is to say, when the image has acquired sufficient opacity, or "density," as it is often called. After all the required detail has become visible, the plate from time to time is lifted carefully out of the developer, allowed to drain for a moment or two, and then held between the developing lamp and the eye; the opacity of the image, especially in the highest lights and deepest shadows, being carefully scrutinised. The appearance of the image as seen when looking at the back of the plate, is also carefully observed. For this purpose it is very much better that the light of the developing lamp should pass through transparent glass (ruby or deep orange) so that the flame itself is distinctly visible, instead of through ground glass or a coloured translucent fabric. Further, the flame of the lamp, whether gas or oil, should always be turned up to the same height, for it is clear that if the brightness of the flame used for making the examination is not fairly constant, all sorts of variable results will be obtained. For this reason it is much better to judge the opacity of negatives by artificial light than by daylight, the intensity of the latter being so variable. A paraffin lamp with a circular wick and a deep ruby chimney with a metal cap at the top, answers admirably. No general rules can be laid down; the appearance of the properly developed image depends on the thickness of the film, the granularity of the silver salt, the presence or absence of silver iodide, and the composition of the emulsion used. Experience only is of value, and the best way to secure uniformly satisfactory results, is to keep as far as possible to one brand of plates. With some plates, for example, very little of the image should appear at the back of the plate, with others the greater part of the image must be distinctly visible there. Sometimes, especially when using small sizes of plates, it is not easy to tell whether all the necessary detail in the shadows has been brought out, and this is an important matter, for if the small negatives are to be used for making enlarged negatives or prints, or lantern slides, there should be very little clear glass indeed even in the deepest shadows of the subject. As a rule it may be said that when every part of the image is at least gray the maximum possible amount of detail has been brought out. If the greyness begins to spread to the margins of the plate where it has been protected by the rebate of the dark slide, general fog is being produced, and, as a rule, little will be gained, but much may be lost, by continuing the development for any considerable time after this is observed. When development is completed the developer is poured off, the plate is well rinsed under the tap or in two or three changes of water, and is then ready for fixing. DEVELOPMENT WITH PYRO-AMMONIA. This method of development has the advantage that the constituents can be kept in concentrated solutions, considerable modifications in the composition of the developer can be made very readily and the negatives obtained are of excellent printing quality. On the other hand it cannot be satisfactorily employed with certain brands of rapid plates, because with them it has a tendency to produce general fog, and with some other plates, especially when they are old, it has a tendency to produce what is known as green fog. Three solutions are prepared:-- REDUCER. Pyrogallic acid 1 oz. or 10 parts Potassium metabisulphite[1] 1 oz. or 10 parts Water, to make up to 10 oz. or 100 parts ACCELERATOR. Ammonia 1 oz. or 10 parts Water, to make up to 10 oz. or 100 parts RESTRAINER. Ammonium bromide 1 oz. or 10 parts Water, to make up to 10 oz. or 100 parts [1] The metabisulphite is dissolved in about 8 oz. (80 parts) of water with the aid of heat, and the pyrogallic acid is then added. When the liquid has cooled it is made up to 10 oz. (100 parts) by addition of water, the whole being well mixed by shaking. For each ounce of developer, take 20 minims of reducer, 20 minims of restrainer and 40 minims of accelerator, and make up to 1 oz. with water. With some plates 60 minims of accelerator and 30 minims of restrainer may be used, but any greater proportion of accelerator has considerable tendency to produce general fog. On the other hand the proportion of restrainer can often be increased with advantage since, unless the amount added is very large, its chief effect is to prevent general fog; 30 minims of restrainer to 40 minims of accelerator, or 40 minims of accelerator to 60 minims of restrainer are proportions that can be recommended. Too low a proportion of bromide should be carefully avoided. It is very important to ascertain, by careful trial with each brand of plates that is to be used, what is the maximum proportion of ammonia that can safely be added, and what proportion of bromide to ammonia is necessary in order to prevent general fog. As a rule, the more rapid the plates the smaller is the quantity of ammonia that can be used with safety. By far the best plan is to keep development well under control by adding only part of the accelerator at the beginning of development and adding the rest as circumstances require. For each ounce of developer take 20 minims of pyro solution and make up to the required bulk with water. In another measure mix for each ounce of developer 40 minims of bromide solution and 60 minims of ammonia solution, and regard this as the maximum quantity that can be added with that bulk of developer. Now to the diluted pyro solution add about a quarter or one-third of the ammonia and bromide solution, pour this mixture on the plate and observe what happens. If the mode of appearance of the image indicates that the plate has been correctly exposed, about half the remaining ammonia and bromide mixture may be added to the developer at once, and the action allowed to continue, with occasional rocking of the dish. If development proceeds satisfactorily and, in particular, if the chief details in the shadows begin to appear before the highest lights have become too opaque, it is not necessary nor advisable to add the last portion of the ammonia and bromide mixture, since the tendency to general fog and green fog is reduced when the proportion of ammonia is kept as low as possible. On the other hand, if the development flags and the appearance of shadow detail is a little tardy, the rest of the ammonia and bromide mixture must be added. If the plate seems to be over-exposed, no more of the ammonia and bromide mixture should be added for some time, until it is seen whether the quantity already in the developer will suffice to complete development. If it seems that the over-exposure has been considerable, a further quantity of pyro solution (10 to 20 minims per oz.) and also of bromide solution (10, 20, or 30 minims per oz.) may be added with advantage. Development is then allowed to continue and the negative is examined from time to time; if it is seen that the opacity does not increase, or if sufficient detail in the deep shadows does not appear, further small quantities of the ammonia and bromide mixture may be added _cautiously_ until the required result is obtained, waiting a little while to see the result of each small addition before adding more. When the plate behaves as if under-exposed, dilute the developer at once with half the quantity or an equal quantity of water, according to the degree of under-exposure indicated, and add the whole of the ammonia and bromide mixture. These modifications should check the rate at which the high-lights of the subject gain opacity, whilst accelerating the appearance of the middle tones and shadows. Should this effect not be produced, further quantities of ammonia and bromide mixture may be added or, in extreme cases, ammonia alone, and the developer may be still more diluted with water. If any considerable parts of the image still show no detail, local development with a brush may be tried as a last resource. A soft camel's hair brush, preferably mounted in quill, is used. Some of the ammonia and bromide mixture is placed in a vessel and diluted with two or three times its volume of water. One corner or edge of the plate is raised so that the part to be treated is lifted out of the developer, the diluted ammonia and bromide mixture is applied rapidly with the brush, and the plate is allowed to drop gently back into the developer. The treatment may be repeated if necessary. Should all these devices fail, the plate is hopelessly under-exposed. Sometimes, when working with a diluted developer as just described, it happens that although all the necessary detail has been brought out, the image gains in opacity very slowly. Provided that all the required detail is visible, small quantities of pyro solution may be added in order to gain opacity more quickly. [Illustration: TEASELS By Carine Cadby.] PYRO-SODA DEVELOPMENT. When sodium carbonate is used as the alkali in place of ammonia the developer acts somewhat more slowly and is less liable to produce fog, especially with very rapid plates, and there is very little tendency to produce green fog. On the other hand, variations are not so easily made in the composition of the developer. Some people find the absence of the smell of ammonia a decided advantage. STOCK PYRO SOLUTION. The same as for Pyro-Ammonia. DILUTE PYRO SOLUTION.[2] Stock pyro-solution 1 oz. or 10 parts Water 10 oz. or 100 parts SODA SOLUTION. Sodium carbonate, crystallised. 1 oz. or 10 parts Sodium Sulphite 1 oz. or 10 parts Potassium bromide 10 grains or 0.23 part Water to make up to[3] 10 oz. or 100 parts [2] No more of the dilute pyro solution should be made up than is likely to be used during the same day, but it will keep well enough for a day or two. [3] The sodium sulphite and carbonate are dissolved, with the aid of heat, in about 8 oz. (80 parts) of water, the bromide added, and the liquid when cold made up to 10 oz. by adding water. For use mix equal parts of dilute pyro solution and soda solution and pour over the plate. If the exposure has been correct the image will begin to appear in about a minute, and development is then allowed to go on with occasional rocking of the dish, until the negative is sufficiently opaque. If the plate behaves as if it were under-exposed, _at once_ dilute the developer with an equal bulk of water and pour it back over the plate. If the high-lights continue to increase in opacity, but the rest of the image does not appear, add some more of the soda solution with or without some more water. Should parts of the plate still remain blank, apply some of the soda solution to them with the aid of a brush as described under pyro-ammonia (page 32). If the rapid appearance of the image indicates that the plate is over-exposed, at once pour off the developer into a measure or mixing glass and rinse the plate well with water. Add to the developer a small quantity of potassium bromide solution (1 in 10 of water) which should be kept at hand for this purpose. A small quantity of pyro stock solution may also be added. The developer is then poured over the plate again. When the over-exposure seems to have been considerable, the amount of potassium bromide added may amount to 4 grains (or 40 minims of the 1 in 10 solution) per ounce of the developer, but this proportion should not be exceeded; even small quantities of bromide in the pyro-soda developer have a marked influence in retarding development. When there is reason to suspect over-exposure, not more than half the soda solution should be added at the beginning of development, and the rest may be added or not, as the case may require. DEVELOPMENT WITH ORTOL. ORTOL SOLUTION. Ortol 130 grains or 1.5 parts Potassium metabisulphite[4] 65 grains or 0.75 part Water to make up to 20 ounces or 100 parts SODA SOLUTION. The same as for pyro-soda. [4] See foot-note to page 30. Mix equal parts of ortol solution and soda solution. This developer behaves in much the same way as pyro-soda and gives very similar results. It has the advantage, however, that it does not stain the fingers, and has practically no tendency to produce either fog or stain on the plates. Moreover the same quantity of solution can be used for several plates; when the action becomes perceptibly slower or weaker, part of the old solution is poured away and an equal quantity of freshly mixed ortol and soda solutions is added. The chief differences to be observed are (1) that the different parts of the image follow one another more rapidly than with pyro-soda, even though the plate may have been correctly exposed, and (2) the colour of the reduced silver is somewhat bluer than with pyro-soda, and therefore in order to obtain the same degree of _printing_ opacity, as distinct from visual opacity, development must be carried a little further. Apart from these differences, what has been said of pyro-soda holds good for ortol soda and need not be repeated. DEVELOPMENT WITH HYDROQUINONE (QUINOL). QUINOL SOLUTION. Hydroquinone 90 grains or 2 parts Sodium sulphite 1 oz. or 10 parts Water to make up to 10 oz. or 100 parts ALKALI SOLUTION. Potassium carbonate (dry) 1 oz. or 10 parts Potassium bromide 20 grains or 0.46 parts Water to make up to 10 oz. or 100 parts Mix two parts of hydroquinone solution with one part of alkali solution and one part of water, or, if a more energetic developer is wanted, mix equal volumes of the hydroquinone and alkali solutions. Hydroquinone is not an advantageous developer for general purposes, but it is useful when negatives are required showing strong contrast between the highest lights and the deepest shadows, and especially when it is important that there should be no deposit at all in the deepest shadows. This is the case, for example, when copying line engravings, pen and ink drawings and similar subjects. DEVELOPMENT WITH FERROUS OXALATE. This method of development also is not well adapted for general work, but it is invaluable for certain purposes. The reduced silver has a pure grey-black colour and there is exceedingly little tendency to produce fog of any kind. On the other hand, the developer admits of little modification in its composition and therefore the exposure must be fairly correct. It is also important to avoid contamination with even minute quantities of hypo, since this substance very readily causes stains. FERROUS SULPHATE SOLUTION. Ferrous sulphate 2-1/2 oz. or 25 parts Sulphuric acid Small quantity Water to make up to 10 oz. or 100 parts About three-quarters of the total quantity of water is mixed with a small quantity (not more than 50 minims per 10 ozs., or one part per 100) of sulphuric acid, and the ferrous sulphate (proto-sulphate of iron) which must be in clear pale green crystals without any yellowish incrustation, is dissolved in it with the aid of a gentle heat. After the solution has cooled, it is made up to the specified volume with water. This solution alters when exposed to air, and should, therefore, be kept in small (2 oz.) bottles, filled up to the neck and tightly corked. OXALATE SOLUTION. Potassium oxalate 10 oz. or 25 parts Potassium bromide 40 grains or 0.23 part Water to make up to 40 oz. or 100 parts For use take four parts of oxalate solution and one part of ferrous sulphate solution, pouring the latter into the former and _not vice versa_. In order to obtain slower action with a rather softer image and a slightly browner deposit, the developer may be diluted with an equal volume of water. Slower action, with slightly increased printing contrasts, and clearer shadows, results from an increase in the proportion of bromide. FIXING. After development is finished, the dark-coloured reduced silver that forms the image remains mixed with a considerable quantity of semi-opaque, yellowish unaltered silver bromide, which would not only interfere with the printing, but would also gradually darken when exposed to light. The negative must therefore be "fixed" by dissolving out the unaltered silver bromide, and this is accomplished by immersing the plate in a fairly strong solution of sodium thiosulphate (formerly called sodium hyposulphite) commonly known as "hypo." The usual strength of the fixing is as follows: FIXING BATH. Hypo (sodium thiosulphate) 10 oz. or 25 parts Water to make up to 40 oz. or 100 parts A solution of double this strength is, however, not unfrequently used, and acts more rapidly, especially in cold weather. The developed plate, after being well rinsed with water, is placed in the fixing bath and allowed to remain in it with frequent rocking until the silver bromide has all been dissolved out of the film. This is ascertained by lifting the plate out of the dish and looking at the back by reflected light, the plate being held in front of something dark. It is not difficult to see whether the silver bromide has all disappeared or not, but in order to ensure complete fixing the plate must not be taken out of the bath as soon as this has happened, but should be left in for a few minutes longer, the dish being rocked so that the dissolved silver salt may diffuse out of the film into the fixing bath. When removed from the fixing bath the plate should be allowed to drain into the bath for a few moments and should then be washed for five or ten minutes in running water under the tap. It is best to put the plate in a dish standing on the sink and have a piece of flexible indiarubber tubing reaching from the tap to within a couple of inches or so of the top of the dish, so that the water may not splash too much. After washing in this way, the plate is placed in a grooved zinc rack, which is immersed in a tank (preferably of zinc), containing sufficient water to completely cover the plates, and here it remains until the whole batch of plates in hand has been developed and they can all receive their final washing together. The plates stand upright in the rack, and the entrance and exit of the water must be so arranged that the water enters at the bottom and overflows at the top, or, what is perhaps better, enters at the top and is drawn off from the bottom, the waste pipe opening at the bottom of the tank and being bent and carried upwards until its mouth is at the level at which the water is to stand in the tank. When running water is not available the plates may be washed in dishes. After being well rinsed to remove the adhering hypo solution, the plate is covered with water (about 3-1/2 oz. for a half plate or 5 oz. for a whole plate) and allowed to remain with frequent rocking for five or six minutes. The water is then well drained off, a second quantity added and allowed to remain for the same time as before, with frequent rocking, when it is poured off in its turn. Treatment in this way with six successive quantities of water will remove all the hypo, provided that the film has not been treated with alum. Another plan, rather less troublesome, but also less expeditious, is to place the rack containing the plates in a tank not much more than big enough to hold it, taking care that there is not less than two inches between the lower edges of the plates and the bottom of the tank. After standing for some time the rack and the plates are slowly and carefully lifted out and allowed to drain, the tank emptied and filled with fresh water, and the rack and plates then replaced. Eight or ten successive quantities of water applied in this way should remove all the hypo, but if there is any doubt on this point the plates, after they are supposed to be washed and have been removed from the tank, should be allowed to drain into a measuring glass or into a dish, the contents of which are afterwards transferred to a measuring glass and mixed with a small quantity of a solution of silver nitrate. If the plates are really completely washed nothing will happen, or at most a white precipitate will be produced which _will remain white_ if not exposed to daylight. If, on the other hand, the plates still retain hypo, the silver nitrate will produce a precipitate which will gradually become orange and eventually dark brown. Should this happen, the washing must be continued. [Illustration] DRYING.--If the negatives are allowed to dry in the rack in which they were washed, the process is slow, and sometimes if the washing has not been complete, the middle portions of the negatives, which dry last, are less opaque than the rest. An excellent method of drying negatives rapidly and in such a way that no dust can fall on the film, is to drive nails (preferably of copper) into a wall or a board fixed against the wall, at distances apart depending on the size of the plates. Each plate then rests, with the film downwards, between a pair of nails, the lower corner of the plate resting against the wall, as shown on previous page. [Illustration: WINTER TIME ON THE ALPS. CAPT. W. DE W. ABNEY, C.B., F.R.S., ETC.] ALUM BATH.--It is frequently recommended that all plates should be immersed in a strong solution of alum, for the purpose of preventing "frilling" by hardening the film. Its use is, however, attended with the great disadvantage that liquids diffuse into and out of a film so treated with much greater difficulty than in the case of an ordinary film, and consequently if the film is alumed between development and fixing, the fixing is not only much slower, but the washing after fixing requires a very much longer time. If, therefore, the alum bath is used at all, it should not be applied until after the film has been well washed after fixing. The following solution may be used:-- ALUM BATH. Alum 1 oz. or 5 parts Water 20 oz. or 100 parts If a strong solution of alum is applied to the plate for a long time, the film may become so thoroughly hardened that it partially loses its adhesiveness, and there is a possibility that it will begin to peel from the glass after the negatives have been stored for some time in a dry place. The solution given above is quite strong enough and plates need not be immersed in it for more than five minutes, after which they must, of course, be again well washed. The hardening of the film, if not carried too far, no doubt makes it less liable to be injured by abrasion and the like. FRILLING.--It sometimes happens that during the various operations of development, fixing and washing, the film begins to leave the plate and rise in puckers along the edges. This is known as "frilling," and in bad cases it may spread until a large part of the film has detached itself from the glass. It is due to excessive or irregular absorption of water by the gelatine, and at one time was commonly met with, but it rarely occurs with the dry plates of the present day. It is most likely to arise if there is any considerable difference of temperature between the various liquids and the wash-water, or during very hot weather when all the liquids are much warmer than usual. When frilling does occur, the plate must be treated carefully, so as to avoid tearing the film, but unless it is very bad and shows a tendency to spread, all the operations, including washing after fixing, should be completed before any special measures are taken to remedy the defect. On the other hand, if the frilling spreads rapidly, the plate should be carefully rinsed two or three times with water and placed for five minutes in the alum bath, with occasional gentle rocking, after which it is again well washed to remove the alum, and the various operations are completed. There is one exception to the procedure just indicated; if the frilling becomes bad while the plate is being fixed or during washing after fixing, the alum must not be applied until the fixing and the washing after fixing are completed. If something must be done in these circumstances, the plate, after draining, but without any previous washing, may be placed for about ten minutes in a saturated solution of common salt. It can afterwards be put back into the fixing bath, also without any intermediate washing, and the remainder of the process carried through. Although the methods just described will check the frilling, they will not remove its effects. For this purpose the plate after its final washing is allowed to drain thoroughly and is then immersed in methylated alcohol, preferably of the old kind, though the new kind can be made to do. The alcohol abstracts water from the film, which consequently shrinks to its original size and can be pressed back with the fingers into its proper position on the plate. Should the film be opalescent it should be removed from the first quantity of alcohol and placed in a second quantity, after which it should be set up to dry. The plates should not remain too long in the alcohol or the gelatine will contract too much. DEFECTS IN NEGATIVES. A perfect negative presupposes a perfect plate, correct exposure, and correct development stopped at exactly the right time. It is almost unnecessary to say that all these conditions are rarely satisfied, and consequently most negatives fall more or less short of perfection. The defects may be broadly grouped under two heads, namely, those due to imperfections existing in the film before exposure, and those due to defects or errors in the way in which the plate has been treated. It will be more convenient to deal with the latter, and larger, group first, but there is really no hard and fast division between them. THE NEGATIVE IS THIN, or in other words, whilst showing good gradation, and sufficient relative contrast between the different parts, is as a whole lacking in opacity or printing strength, and gives prints that are deficient in vigour and contrasts. The plate has been removed from the developer too soon, and the remedy is to intensify the image (see p. 51). Sometimes the want of opacity is due to the fact that the developer was too cold. THE NEGATIVE IS TOO DENSE OR OPAQUE and consequently although showing good contrasts and gradations, takes a long time to print, especially on dull days. The developer has been too energetic, or development has been continued too long; the remedy is to reduce the image (see p. 50). THE IMAGE IS "FLAT," or shows comparatively little contrast between the highest lights and the deepest shadows. This may, of course, be due to the absence of contrasts in the subject photographed; it is commonly due to over-exposure; it may be caused by using a developer containing too little reducer, or restrainer, or both, and too much alkali; sometimes it arises from a defect in the quality of the emulsion, or from the fact that the plate has been coated with an abnormally thin film of emulsion. THE IMAGE IS "HARD," or shows excessive contrasts between lights and shadows, and is defective in the range of its half-tones. This is probably due to under-exposure, but may have been aggravated by the use of a developer containing too much bromide or too little alkali. Local reduction (see p. 50) may partially remedy the defect. FOG.--A more or less marked grey deposit of reduced silver extends over the whole surface of the image. It may be due to over-exposure, in which case the edges of the plate that have been protected by the rebate of the dark slide usually remain clear. It may also be caused by using a developer containing too much alkali, or too little restrainer, or both, or by the plate having been exposed to actinic light outside the camera, including the light from the dark-room lamp if the glass or coloured fabric used as the screening material is not efficient. In any of these cases the defect would be observable up to the extreme edges of the film. The character of the dark-room light should be tested by exposing one half of a plate to it at a distance of say nine or twelve inches for five or ten minutes, the other half of the plate being protected by some opaque substance. The best plan is to put the plate into a dark slide and draw out the shutter half-way. After exposure the plate is treated with a developer in the usual manner, and it can then be seen whether or no the light has exerted any action on the plate. Slight general fog may as a rule be neglected, but if the amount of fog is at all considerable the plate should be treated with a reducer, and afterwards the image can, if necessary, be intensified. GREEN FOG.--The surface of the film shows a peculiar brilliant green or yellowish-green lustrous appearance, generally in patches, when examined by reflected light, but is more or less distinctly pink when the plate is looked through. This effect is rarely observed except when pyro-ammonia has been used as the developer, and it most frequently occurs with old plates, especially if development has been long continued or has been forced by the addition of comparatively large quantities of ammonia. If the green fog is only slight it does not affect the prints made from the negative, but in bad cases the prints have a patchy appearance and are less deeply printed at those points where the green fog is worst. Two methods are available for the removal of green fog. In one of these the plate, after being fixed and washed, is placed in a hypo solution of half the strength of the ordinary fixing bath, and to this hypo solution is added a very small quantity of a solution of potassium ferricyanide, and the mixture is allowed to act on the plate for some time, the dish being rocked occasionally. The green fog will gradually disappear and some more of the ferricyanide may be added, if necessary, to secure this end, but it is important to keep the proportion of ferricyanide as low as possible, otherwise the image itself will be reduced. For this reason, if it is seen or suspected that the green fog is likely to be bad, development should be carried a little farther than usual in order to allow for the slight reduction that accompanies the removal of the green fog. The other plan is to immerse the plate in a dilute solution of ferric chloride (perchloride of iron) until the green fog has been completely bleached, then wash, first in a dilute solution of oxalic acid and afterwards in water, and finally treat with a developer, preferably ferrous oxalate. The green fog is converted into a very fine grey deposit which is almost invisible and has no appreciable effect on the printing qualities of the negative. BLACK SPOTS may be due to particles of dirt that have been allowed to lodge on the film during one or other of the operations, or during drying. They may also be due to particles in the emulsion, and in the latter case are generally round and sharply defined. BLACK MARKS of the nature of irregular streaks, looking, so to speak, like black scratches, are generally due to mechanical abrasion of the film. Pressure produces a developable image similar to that produced by the action of light. BLACK BANDS, indistinct or nebulous at the edges, are sometimes caused during the coating of the plate with the emulsion, in which case they, as a rule, extend all the way along or across the plate. More commonly they are due to defects in the hinges of the dark slides, which may produce the bands either by allowing light to pass through, or by giving off exhalations that affect the plates if they are allowed to remain in the dark slide for a long time. If the bands are due to the hinges, they will, of course, correspond with them in position, and if the hinge is double, in the distance between them. TRANSPARENT BANDS, or bands showing less opacity than the rest of the image, are sometimes caused by exhalations from the material forming the hinges of the dark slides. TRANSPARENT SPOTS if small ("pinholes"), are generally due to the presence of particles of dust on the surface of the plate when it was exposed. Prevention lies, of course, in carefully dusting the plate and the dark slide with a soft, clean, dry camel's hair brush, before putting the former into the latter. If the spots are larger and circular, they are due either to the formation of air bubbles on the surface of the plate during development, or to the presence in the film of insensitive particles. UNEVEN OPACITY OR DENSITY, varying gradually from one end or side of the plate to the opposite end or side, is due to uneven coating of the plate. If there is a distinctly defined patch, less opaque than the rest, the plate was not properly covered by the developing solution. STAINS.--A uniform stain, of a yellowish or brown colour, is produced when the pyro developer contains too small a proportion of sulphite or is allowed to act for a very long time. Such a stain is rarely observed with the other developers mentioned above. The pyro stain can be more or less completely removed by immersing the plate for some time, with repeated rocking, in the alum solution given above, 1 drachm of sulphuric acid being added to every 10 ounces. The plate must afterwards be well washed in soft water. Similar stains in patches may be caused by using dirty dishes or a developer that has become turbid by being frequently used. DEEP YELLOW-ORANGE OR BROWN STAINS, appearing gradually in patches or all over the negative, some time after it has been fixed, and washed, and dried, are due either to imperfect fixing or to incomplete washing after fixing. There is no practicable remedy. [Illustration: DOCK By Carine Cadby.] HALATION.--When the subject photographed includes some part much more brightly lighted than the rest, such as a window in an interior subject, the details of the bright part are not only lost, but the image of it seems to spread in all directions, obliterating the details of the surrounding portions. The effect is especially noticeable when the subject includes dark parts which necessitate a somewhat long exposure. A window at the end of a long dimly lighted interior, or dark trees against a bright sky are cases in point. The effect is really due to the fact that the sensitive film is not perfectly opaque, and some of the incident light passes through the film and is reflected from the back surface of the glass on to the under side of the film, producing a blurred image superposed, as it were, on the normal image formed at the surface of the film by the action of the direct light. The effect is known as "halation." It is prevented by having a perfectly opaque film, which is a condition difficult to realize in practice, and which, moreover, introduces certain other disadvantages. It is also prevented by coating the back of the plate with some substance that will absorb the rays that have passed through the film, and so prevent their being reflected back against the under side of the film. The substance used must either be opaque or must have a deep orange, brown, or red colour, and it must have the same refractive index as the glass, otherwise the reflection will not be prevented. For practical convenience it must also be easily applied and easily removed. Many substances have been recommended but nothing is so good as caramel, prepared by the action of heat on sugar. In order to get the mixture to dry completely after it has been applied, a somewhat troublesome process of purification is necessary, but caramel specially prepared for the purpose can now be obtained from dealers in photographic materials. The caramel (which is a solid substance) is dissolved in just enough water to make a thick syrup, which is carefully applied to the back of the plates in a thin layer by means of a flat brush. If the caramel does not dry properly the solution may be thoroughly mixed with about one quarter (or more) of its weight of very finely powdered burnt sienna or burnt umber, "ground in water." After being coated, the plates require some time to dry, and must, of course, be carefully protected from light. If the dark-room is thoroughly dark, the plates may be put up to dry in the same manner as negatives (see page 40), but if the dark-room is not suitable, some sort of drying box must be used. After exposure and before development the backing is removed with a damp sponge; if caramel only is used in a form completely soluble in water, it need not be removed unless a developer is being used that is to be applied to several plates in succession. REDUCTION. When a negative is too opaque or dense it must be reduced by dissolving away part of the silver that forms the image. The same process is also applied for the removal of general fog, sometimes with a view to subsequent intensification. The simplest solution to use for this purpose is known as the Howard Farmer reducer and is a solution of hypo mixed with a small quantity of potassium ferricyanide (red prussiate of potash). FERRICYANIDE SOLUTION. Potassium ferricyanide 1 oz. or 10 parts Water to make up 10 oz. or 100 parts This solution must be protected from light if it is to be kept for any length of time. The negative which, if it has been previously dried, must be soaked in water for some time until it is thoroughly and uniformly wetted, is placed in some fresh hypo solution (the ordinary fixing-bath solution diluted with an equal volume of water) to which a small quantity of the ferricyanide solution has been added, and the dish is rocked repeatedly to ensure uniform action. The rapidity of the reducing action depends on the proportion of ferricyanide solution added, and it is very important not to add too much, otherwise the process gets out of control and reduction goes too far. The image should be carefully watched and the plate removed from the solution and rapidly washed before the apparent reduction is quite as great as it is intended to be. It is much better to stop too soon than too late, because if it is found that a little further reduction is necessary, the plate can be again immersed in the hypo and ferricyanide. The ferricyanide reducer can be applied locally for reducing high-lights, halated windows, etc., and this is often very valuable, especially in the case of under-exposed negatives. A small quantity of hypo and ferricyanide solution is mixed in a measuring glass or some other suitable vessel. The plate is immersed in plain hypo solution in a white dish for a short time and is then raised by one corner or one edge until the part to be reduced is above the solution. The mixture of hypo and ferricyanide is carefully applied with a camel's hair brush to the parts that are too opaque, and after a few moments the plate is allowed to slip back into the hypo solution and the dish is rocked. If the reduction is not sufficient, the same proceeding is gone through as often as necessary. The reducer should not be allowed to act too long before putting the plate back into the hypo, otherwise the reduction may spread further than is desired. Further, the reducer must not be too strong (_i.e._, contain too much ferricyanide), otherwise it will produce brownish stains and the action may be too energetic. The other reducer is known as Belitzski's reducer, and is made up as follows:-- Ferric potassium oxalate 1 oz. or 5 parts[5] Sodium sulphite 1 oz. or 4 parts Oxalic acid 1/4 oz. or 1 part Hypo solution (25 in 100) 5 oz. or 25 parts Water 20 oz. or 100 parts [5] The formula in "parts" does not strictly correspond with that in ounces, but the difference is immaterial. The constituents must be dissolved in water in the order given. The solution can be used at once and it keeps fairly well if protected from light, in well corked bottles filled up to the neck. INTENSIFICATION. Intensification is a process in which the opacity of the image is increased by adding some fresh matter, metallic or otherwise, to the reduced silver that constitutes the developed image. The usual plan is to bleach the image by means of a solution of mercuric chloride (mercury perchloride or corrosive sublimate), which converts the dark-coloured silver into a white mixture of silver chloride and mercurous chloride, and this is subsequently treated with some re-agent which will reconvert the image into a dark product of greater opacity than the original. It is absolutely essential to successful intensification that the negative be completely fixed and completely washed after fixing, for any trace of hypo left in the film will give rise to brown stains. It is also important, in order to prevent stains of another sort and to secure uniform action, that the mercuric chloride solution be mixed with a small quantity of hydrochloric acid. Too much acid will cause frilling. If the negative has been dried it must be immersed in water for, as a rule, not less than half-an-hour, in order that it may be thoroughly and uniformly wetted. MERCURIC CHLORIDE SOLUTION. Mercuric chloride 1 oz. or 5 parts Hydrochloric acid 1-1/2 drachms or 1 part Water to make up to 20 oz. or 100 parts When uniform intensification is required the negative is allowed to remain in this solution until it is completely bleached. If, however, it is desired to intensify the shadows more than the high-lights, the plate should be removed from the solution as soon as the shadows have bleached, and should be rapidly washed in order to stop the action on the more opaque parts of the image. In either case the negative must be thoroughly washed after bleaching, and the water used must be soft water. Hard water tends to produce a precipitate of the mercury salt in the film, which may subsequently lead to stain or fog. Perhaps the best plan of all, when constant results are desired, is to treat the bleached negative with the ferrous oxalate developer, which will gradually convert the white image into a black one, after which the plate is thoroughly washed and dried. It is recommended that the first water used for washing should be slightly acidified with oxalic acid. Instead of using ferrous oxalate the bleached plate may be treated with a weak solution of ortol or metol to which some sodium carbonate (soda crystals) solution has been added, but _no sulphite_. After the image has blackened completely the plate is washed. With any of these methods if the first intensification is not sufficient, the plate may be again bleached with the mercury solution and the process repeated. An old method, frequently used, is to treat the bleached plate with dilute ammonia, which converts the white image into a dark brown one of very considerable printing opacity. The results are often very good, but are somewhat uncertain, since the precise effect obtained depends on the strength of the ammonia solution and the time during which it is allowed to act. With somewhat strong ammonia, allowed to act for a fairly long time, part of the intensification first produced is removed. This affects the shadows more strongly than the lights and the result is to increase the contrast of the negative, which is very useful for certain purposes. The negatives intensified with mercury solution followed by ammonia are more liable to spontaneous change and deterioration than those intensified with mercury solution followed by one of the developers. The latter, in fact, if properly washed, may safely be regarded as permanent. URANIUM INTENSIFIER.--A very considerable degree of intensification can be obtained by the use of the uranium intensifier, which is very different in its mode of action, and is a little uncertain in its results. A solution containing potassium ferricyanide and a uranium salt, generally the nitrate, is applied to the negative, and a deposit of a deep orange-red colour is formed upon the silver image and very greatly increases its printing opacity. The great difficulty is to prevent this deposit forming on the whole of the film, and it is absolutely necessary that every trace of hypo should be washed out of the film. The addition of acetic acid to the solution not only promotes uniformity of action, but also helps to keep the shadows of the image clear. FERRICYANIDE SOLUTION. The same as for the ferricyanide reducer. URANIUM SOLUTION. Uranium nitrate 1 oz. or 10 parts Water to make up to 10 oz. or 100 parts THE INTENSIFIER. Uranium solution (1:10) 1 drachm or 5 parts Ferricyanide solution (1:10) 1 drachm or 5 parts Acetic acid (glacial) 2 drachms or 10 parts Water to make up to 2-½ oz. or 100 parts The negative is placed in this solution and allowed to remain with occasional rocking until the degree of intensification is sufficient, which can only be learnt by experience. If it is seen that the deposit is beginning to form on the clear parts of the negative, the plate should be at once removed. After intensification the plates are well washed. If the water is "hard" the intensification will be slightly reduced during washing, and this is often useful in removing a slight stain over the whole of the plate. Treatment with water containing a small quantity of ammonia or sodium carbonate removes the whole of the deposit, but leaves the original image slightly reduced and also partially altered in composition. VARNISHING. A negative after been thoroughly dried may be used for printing without any further treatment, especially if only a few prints are required and the ordinary ready sensitized papers or emulsion papers are used. It is, however, better to protect the negative from mechanical as well as chemical injury by means of a film of hard varnish or collodion. Many excellent negative varnishes can now be purchased, and the general mode of application is the same. The negative must be thoroughly dry, and in order to secure this and to make the varnish flow more easily, the negative is very carefully heated in front of a fire or over a small stove until it is just warm, but not hot. The negative is best supported by means of a pneumatic holder held in the left hand, and a fairly large pool of varnish (the exact amount can only be learnt by experience) is poured on the plate somewhat towards the right-hand top corner, and by carefully tilting the plate it is made to run first to the nearest corner, then along the edge to the further left-hand corner down to the nearer left-hand corner, and back to the right-hand bottom corner, from which it is poured into a bottle. The plate is gently rocked whilst it drains into the bottle, and as soon as the varnish ceases to drop the plate is again carefully warmed until the back of it is just too hot for the back of the hand to bear, after which it is placed in a rack to cool. It is necessary that the varnish should be quite clear and free from any solid particles, and if necessary it must be filtered through a plug of cotton wool moistened with alcohol and placed in the apex of a glass funnel which is resting in the neck of a clean and dry bottle. Since dust may fall into the varnish whilst it is on the negative, it is the best plan to pour the excess of varnish off the negative into a second bottle instead of back into the first, out of which it was poured. To put it in another way, one bottle should be kept for the clear varnish, and a second bottle for the varnish poured off the plate. When the second bottle is full, its contents are filtered into the first bottle for use again. Instead of varnish, a film of collodion, toughened by the addition of a few drops of castor oil, and known as "leather" collodion, may be used. The collodion is applied to the plate in the same way as varnish except that the plate is not warmed. _C. H. Bothamley._ [Illustration] _Lenses._ [Illustration] Photographs of flat objects such as leaves, lace, drawings, etc., can be made by simply putting the object on the sensitive surface and exposing the arrangement to light. But this method will not serve if the photograph is wanted of any other size than the original, nor with solid objects of any size, except perhaps in the production of full-size profiles of faces. It is therefore quite the exception in photography to "print" directly from the object itself, and the only alternative is to produce an image on the sensitive surface. All illuminated objects reflect light and so become for practical purposes sources of light, just as the moon shines, as we say, although it only shines because it is shone upon by the sun. The simplest source of light to consider is a point of light, and if we can get a dot of light on a white surface from a point of light we have at once an image of that point of light. The smaller the dot the sharper or more perfect is the image, the larger the dot the more diffused or fuzzy is the image. It is impossible by any known means to get the dot so small that it is an actual point, that would be absolute perfection, and on the other hand there is no size of the dot at which it can be definitely said that it ceases to be an image. Every point of an illuminated object is a point of light, and fine definition consists in keeping these points separate in the image. So far as the dots overlap they are confused. Confusion, or diffusion, or fuzziness is sometimes desirable, as for example in a portrait, which may be excellent although it is impossible to distinguish in the picture the individual hairs on the person's head. [Illustration: Fig. 1.] The simplest means for getting an image is a small hole in an opaque screen. In fig. 1, two points of light, A and B, shine through the hole in the screen S and produce two dots of light, _a_ and _b_, on the surface T. The two pencils of light do not practically interfere with each other although they pass through the same small hole, nor would any greater number; so that an illuminated object, which may be regarded as consisting of an infinite number of points of light, would give an image on the surface T. The disadvantages of a small hole, or "pinhole," for the production of images are (1) it must be so small that it lets very little light through and therefore gives a very feeble image, (2) that it can never give a sharp image. The first disadvantage is obvious. With regard to the second, a little consideration will show that the image of a point must be larger than the hole itself, it is always larger though it may have a central brighter part that is smaller. If the hole is reduced in size beyond a certain limit, it gives an increased spreading of light on the surface, so that a sharp image can never be produced. [Illustration: Fig. 2.] Now the function of a lens is to obviate these drawbacks as far as possible; namely, to let more light through and form a brighter image, and to give sharper definition. In figure 2, the lens L collects all the light that falls upon it from the point B, and condenses it to the point _b_ on the surface T. The light from the point A that falls on the lens is also condensed and would be brought to a point or "focus" at _a_ beyond the surface T, but on the surface the light forms a patch of considerable size. Suppose that the lens is thirty times the diameter of the pinhole its area is 900 times as large, and the light that falls upon it is 900 times as much as the light that passes through the hole. Such an enormous gain of light is worth so much that photographers willingly put up with the very many imperfections of lenses for the sake of it, and if to this gain there is added the superior definition that is possible, it will be seen that lenses are indispensable to the photographer. To take a Daguerreotype portrait with a pinhole might have required several days if not weeks exposure of the plate and therefore would have been impossible, so that the gain in brightness of image is a great deal more than a mere convenience. It will be observed in figure 1 that both points of light, A and B produce images on the surface T, although they are at different distances from it, but in fig. 2, although the effect of the lens is to concentrate the light from both points to two other points, one of these is beyond the surface T. This is a disadvantage inherent in lenses. They have so many other imperfections or "aberrations" that it is desirable to consider these separately. The reader should bear in mind that the one aim of opticians in perfecting lenses is to concentrate as much light as possible from each point in the object to a corresponding point, or as small as possible a dot, in the image, and the image should be flat because the plates used in photography are flat. [Illustration: Fig. 3.] _Spherical Aberration._--The surfaces of lenses are always ground to spherical curves, and this fact makes it impossible for a single lens, such as that shown in figure 2, to bring to a point all the light that falls upon it from a point. If a pencil of light passes through a piece of glass with sloping sides it is bent or "refracted" towards the thicker part of the glass, and the greater the angle of inclination of the two sides the more is it refracted from its original path. In figure 3 it is clear that the two sides of the lens shown in section are inclined to each other at a continually increasing angle as they approach each other at the edges of the lens. The refracting effect of the lens increases from the centre outwards, and it increases to a greater extent than is necessary to bring the incident light to a point. The focus of the pencils of light that pass through the edges of the lens is nearer to the lens than the focus of the pencils that pass through its central part. In the figure two foci are shown, _a_ and _b_, but of course, in fact, intermediate parts of the lens produce intermediate foci, and what should be a point in the image, is spread out into a line on the axis of the lens, and all along this line is surrounded with the light that either is coming to a focus or that has come to a focus and has spread out again. On a screen placed at _b_ there would be a point of light surrounded by a halo, while at _a_, nearer the lens, the central focus or point is surrounded by a brighter or more condensed light, and the appearance is of a circular patch of light with a brighter boundary. This is positive spherical aberration. Negative spherical aberration is due to over correction, the focus of the light passing through the margins being furthest from the lens, and the appearances on a screen are of course reversed. _Chromatic Aberration._--When light is refracted, that is bent out of its original path by a single piece of glass, it is not refracted as a whole, but each constituent behaves as if none other were present. Ordinary white light or daylight is a mixture of many coloured lights as seen in the rainbow, and when refracted, the blue is bent more than the green, the green more than the yellow, and the yellow more than the red. So that using a single lens the focus of the blue light is nearer the lens than the focus of the red light and the others come in between. In figure 4 this is represented in an exaggerated degree to make it more distinct. It will be observed that a screen placed at the focus of the blue light will show a reddish margin and if removed further from the lens the margin or halo will be bluish. [Illustration: Fig. 4.] These two aberrations, spherical and chromatic _were_ the principal faults that opticians had to deal with, because they affect the whole of the image, even the very central parts. But in photography it is necessary to get an image of a very large size as compared with the focal length of the lens, and there are some faults that only begin to show themselves at a little distance from the centre of the image and increase as the distance from the centre is greater. These aberrations were, practically speaking, incurable until a few years ago, but as recent optical advances have provided kinds of glass by the use of which they may be eliminated, or nearly so, they have become of practical importance. They are astigmatism and curvature of field. _Astigmatism and Curvature of Field._--If a diagram of suitable size is made with a series of concentric circles and radial lines upon it, and the centre of it is arranged exactly opposite the centre of the lens, and in a line with the centre of the focussing screen, the screen and diagram being parallel, then if the lens suffers from astigmatism it will be found impossible to get the outer circles and the radial lines where they cross them simultaneously focussed. Where this difficulty begins the astigmatism begins, and the greater the difference there is between the focal planes of the radial lines and the circles, the greater is the astigmatism. It will probably be found with any of the older types of lenses that neither is in focus at the same time that the centre of the diagram is, but that the screen must be racked in; this is due to curvature of field, and the difference between the curvature of field for the circles and the radial lines is due to astigmatism. In the older lenses a flatter field could only be obtained by the introduction of astigmatism, but now by the employment of the new glasses made at Jena, it is possible to practically eliminate astigmatism, and still keep the field flat. [Illustration: Fig. 5.] _The Development of Photographic Lenses._--When photography was first practised the best lenses available were those made for use as telescope objectives, and they had to be used with a small diaphragm to get good definition over a sufficient field. With the slow processes then in vogue a more rapid lens was much desired, and Voigtlander introduced a "portrait" lens constructed according to the results of the calculations of Professor Petzval. This portrait lens is still very largely used, and figure 5 will serve to show its general character and will be a guide to the putting of one together correctly if it has been taken to pieces for cleaning. A rapid lens such as this could not cover a sufficiently large field for landscape work, so that single lenses were still used for work in which rapidity was not of very great importance. Single lenses were improved, and other kinds of lenses were introduced from time to time, but it was not till 1866 that the "rapid rectilinears" or "rapid aplanats," called later "rapid symmetricals," and by innumerable other names according to the fancies of the makers, were introduced. Probably no lens has been made in such large numbers as this. At about the same time, Dallmeyer introduced his portrait lens in which the position of the convex and concave elements of the back combination is reversed, the concave lens being outside, and this gives the photographer the opportunity of screwing it back a little, and so introducing a measurable amount of spherical aberration which has the effect of modifying the otherwise exceedingly fine definition at the centre of the field, and giving a greater depth of definition. In 1881, Messrs. Abbe & Schott began a series of experiments in the manufacture of optical glasses, and they were so successful in making new and useful varieties, that an optical glass factory was eventually established at Jena, by Schott & Co. By the use of these newer glasses the limitations that had previously restricted opticians were removed, and it became possible to correct astigmatism and secure a flat field at the same time. Zeiss of Jena, towards the end of 1890, introduced his first series of "anastigmats." The "concentric" lens of Ross was introduced in 1892, a lens which probably remains unsurpassed for flatness of field and freedom from astigmatism; but as spherical aberration is present to a notable degree, an aperture of about _f_/22 is the largest that gives sharp definition. The "double anastigmat" of Goerz of Berlin was put on the market in 1893. It is a symmetrical lens, and in this different from the Zeiss anastigmats that preceded it. It consists of two similar combinations, each of three lenses cemented together. The unsurpassed qualities of this lens stimulated other opticians to seek to rival it, and there appeared similar lenses with four and even five lenses in each combination, besides other lenses that are more or less a copy of the double anastigmat. One of the most notable of these is the "satz-anastigmat" of Zeiss, each combination consisting of four lenses cemented together and forming an excellent single lens. These combinations are interchangeable in the same mount so that with, for example, one mount and three lenses, six different focal lengths can be obtained, as the lenses may be used singly or any two together as a doublet. The "Cooke" lens is remarkable for the simple means by which the various corrections are made, consisting as it does of only three single lenses separated from each other. Obviously it must be used entire. These lenses do not cover so large a plate in proportion to their focal lengths as most of the other anastigmats, but perform excellently over the plates for which they are constructed. The "stigmatic" of Dallmeyer is the latest lens of general utility. It gives good definition to the margin of the circle of light that it transmits, reduction of aperture being necessary, when its full field is employed, to get equality of illumination rather than to improve the marginal definition. Its two combinations are different, and either may be used alone as a single lens, giving focal lengths of approximately one-and-a-half and twice the focal length of the whole lens. The "planar" of Zeiss introduced just as we write, is a symmetrical doublet characterized by a very large aperture, from _f_/3.6 to _f_/4 up to 10 inches in focal length, and a little smaller above that. It is therefore comparable with portrait lenses. Although it is symmetrical, a single combination cannot with advantage be used alone as a single lens. Telephotographic lenses are subsequently referred to. The one aim of opticians in improving photographic lenses has been to get good definition all over a comparatively large flat surface without having to use small apertures. A defining power on the axis of the lens, that is, at the centre of the field, far exceeding what can be taken practical advantage of in ordinary photography, has long been possible. But until recently, the defining power always rapidly deteriorated as the distance from the centre was increased. But to judge of the quality of a lens, or to compare one lens with another, there are other matters that must be understood, and these we shall proceed to consider. Focal length, aperture and image angle are the chief details concerning lenses, granting that the aberrations referred to above are satisfactorily corrected. _Focal length._--The focal length or focal distance of a thin lens is the distance between it and the point to which it converges parallel rays. The rays of light are parallel when they issue from an object at an infinite distance. For ordinary practical purposes, any object, that is not nearer than a thousand focal lengths of the lens may be regarded as at an infinite distance, that is the image of an object so far off, and the image of the sun or stars (which are situated at the nearest approach to an infinitely great distance that we know of) would if separately focussed give an inappreciably small difference of position of the focussing screen. But no photographic lens is very thin. The measurement from the back surface of the lens to the screen, when focussed on a distant object, is called the "back focus," but this is of no use whatever except as to the determining of the camera length necessary. The "equivalent focal length" is the focal length (or focal distance) of a thin lens that would give the same effect, so far as focal length is concerned, as the lens in question. When the simple expression "focal length" is used, it always refers to the equivalent focal length. The single word "focus" is sometimes used erroneously instead of "focal length." The focal length of all lenses (except to a very small extent, with single or so-called "landscape" lenses) is proportional to the linear dimension of the image that it gives under similar conditions. For example, a lens of 6 inches focal length will give just the same amount of subject on a quarter plate that a lens of 12 inches focal length will give on a whole plate, because the linear measurement of the whole plate is exactly double that of the quarter plate. The easiest way to compare the focal lengths of two lenses, is to focus both on a fairly distant object or view, and to measure in the image the distance between two fixed points in both cases. The proportion between these measurements is the proportion between the focal lengths of the lenses. By this method the focal length of any lens can easily be determined if one has a lens of known focal length. If a lens is first focussed on a distant object, and the focussing screen is then moved back until the image of any object is of the same size as the object, the distance travelled by the focussing screen is exactly the focal length of the lens. It is however exceedingly difficult to get at the same time an image of an exactly predetermined size, and to secure the very best definition, so that it is more convenient to get the image as near as it happens to come to the size of the object and then to allow for the difference, as then nothing interferes with the operation of focussing. The best near object to use is an accurately divided scale, and the details wanted in addition to those mentioned above are the comparative lengths of the image and the object. To get these, two fine marks are made on the focussing screen, and the distance between these is the length of the image. The scale is focussed with critical exactness and so that it falls over these marks, then the amount of the scale represented between the marks can be measured, and the divisions counted for the length of the object. The distance over which the focussing screen was moved between the two focussings is to be multiplied by the length of the object and divided by the length of the image, and the result is the focal length of the lens. _Aperture._--The "aperture" of a lens is the diameter of the cylinder of light that it can receive and transmit. If the diaphragm is in front of the lens, the hole in the diaphragm is the aperture, but if the diaphragm is behind a part of the lens, so that the incident light passes through a lens first, the hole in the diaphragm is not the "aperture," the "aperture" is larger because the lens condenses the light before it gets to the diaphragm. The aperture of any lens can be measured by focussing a distant object, then replacing the focussing screen by a sheet of cardboard with a pinhole in the middle of it. In a dark-room a light must be placed behind the pinhole, and a bit of ground glass held in front of the lens. A disc of light will be seen on the ground glass and the diameter of this is the diameter of the aperture, or simply, the "aperture," with the diaphragm employed. _Rapidity._--The rapidity of a lens depends almost wholly on its focal length and aperture. The thickness of the glass makes a little difference, and at every surface in contact with air there is loss by reflection, but these and analogous matters are of comparatively little importance, and as they are uncertain and cannot be determined it is customary to refer rapidity to the focal length and aperture only. The aperture found, that is, the diameter of the effective incident cylinder of parallel rays, should be divided into the focal length, and the diaphragm corresponding to the aperture should then be marked with a fractional expression indicating the proportion of aperture to focal length. Thus if the aperture is one eighth the focal length, it is marked _f_/8, if a sixteenth _f_/16, and so on. All lenses with the same aperture as so marked may be regarded as of equal rapidity whatever their focal lengths may be. Now the more rapid a lens is the shorter the exposure that it is necessary to give for any subject, and the exposure required is proportional to the square of the figure in the expressions as given above. Namely 8 and 16 squared give 64 and 256 which are as one to four, the proportional exposures required. Or we may say that 8 to 16 are as 1 to 2 and square these and get 1 to 4 the proportional exposures. [Illustration: Fig. 6.] The best way to mark stops is, for example, _f_/8 and _f_/16, as these expressions are universally understood, but some persons think that the relative rapidities or intensities are better, others prefer to express the relative exposure necessary, and every system of numbering on these plans has a unit which is merely empirical, not one of them adopting the only true or scientific unit of _f_/1. Zeiss has recently changed his unit from _f_/100 to _f_/50. Dallmeyer marks some of his lenses now with the practical expression. The following table may be of service to those who happen to have lenses with their diaphragms marked on any of these empirical systems. ------------------------------------------------------------------- | Royal | | | | | | Photographic | | Paris | Zeiss | Zeiss | _f_/ | Society. | Dallmeyer. | Congress.| (old). | (new). | ------------------------------------------------------------------- 3.16 | | 1 | 1/10 | | | 3.2 | | | | 1024 | 256 | 4 | 1 | | | | | 5 | | 2.5 | 1/4 | | | 4.5 | | | | 512 | 128 | 5.66 | 2 | | | | | 6.3 | | 4 | 4/10 | 256 | 64 | 7.07 | | 5 | 1/2 | | | 8 | 4 | | | | | 8.66 | | 7.5 | 3/4 | | | 9 | | | | 128 | 32 | 10 | | 10 | 1 | | | 11.3 | 8 | | | | | 12.25 | | 15 | 1.5 | | | 12.5 | | | | 64 | 16 | 14.14 | | 20 | 2 | | | 15.81 | | 25 | 2.5 | | | 16 | 16 | | | | | 17.32 | | 30 | 3 | | | 18 | | | | 32 | 8 | 20 | | 40 | 4 | | | 22.36 | | 50 | 5 | | | 22.6 | 32 | | | | | 25 | | | | 16 | 4 | 27.36 | | 75 | 7.5 | | | 31.62 | | 100 | 10 | | | 32 | 64 | | | | | 36 | | | | 8 | 2 | 38.7 | | 150 | 15 | | | 44.72 | | 200 | 20 | | | 45.2 | 128 | | | | | 50 | | 250 | 25 | 4 | 1 | 54.77 | | 300 | 30 | | | 63.25 | | 400 | 40 | | | 64 | 256 | | | | | 70.71 | | 500 | 50 | | | 71 | | | | 2 | | 100 | | | | 1 | | ------------------------------------------------------------------- _Image Angle._--The image angle represents what is called covering power. It may be expressed in terms of the focal length, and doubtless this is the best method, but it is not customary. It may be expressed as an angle, the angle formed when a line is drawn from each extremity of a line equal to the diameter of the circle covered, and caused to meet at a point distant from the base line equal to the focal length of the lens. The angle where the two lines meet is the image angle. But generally the covering power is expressed more roughly, as the ordinary size of the plate that sufficiently good definition can be obtained on. _Tele-Photographic Lenses._--If a negative (or dispersing or concave) lens is introduced between the ordinary lens and the plate, the equivalent focal length of the arrangement is greater than that of the ordinary lens alone, but the length of camera necessary is not proportionately great. It is possible therefore to obtain an image of a size that would otherwise require a lens of long focal length and a corresponding and perhaps impossible length of camera. But this is not the only advantage, for if the ordinary lens and the negative lens are separable to a variable extent, the amount of magnification of the image, or increase in the equivalent focal length of the optical system, is adjustable at will. For further details concerning tele-photographic lenses and their use, reference should be made to Mr. Dallmeyer's pamphlet on the subject. There are two other subjects connected with the production of images by photographic lenses that must be referred to, though neither of them is of great importance if we exclude the use of hand cameras (which are separately treated of) and bear in mind the ordinary practice of to-day. These are depth of definition and the distortion due to the use of single lenses. _Depth of Definition._--It has already been shown that the action of the lens is to bring to a point in the image all the light that falls upon it from the corresponding point of the object. Now it is clear from fig. 2 that, if different parts of the object are at different distances from the lens, and this must be the case with solid objects, these different parts cannot be in focus at the same time. Still it is possible to get them so nearly in focus that the result is serviceable, and the ordinary method of doing this is to examine the image on the ground glass, and if the whole subject is not sharp enough, to reduce the size of the aperture. Depth of definition is increased by using a lens of shorter focal length or by reducing the aperture. If a large aperture has to be used, the focal length must be short if much depth of definition is wanted, or conversely, if the focal length must be long the aperture must be small. It follows that very rapid lenses that have a very long focus are of no use, for in portraiture, for example, this combination of properties would lead to the ear in the image being fuzzy if the eye was sharp. If a lens were perfect and had a flat field, the depth of definition would depend only on the aperture and focal length. But if the lens gives inferior definition towards the edges of the field, it is quite obvious that there must be less depth of definition there, if a minimum of defining power is accepted. The definition at its best may be inferior to the minimum accepted and then obviously there is no depth. Depth of definition therefore at the centre of the plate depends entirely on the focal length and aperture, but away from the centre it depends also on the quality of the lens, and is much greater in a flat field anastigmat than in a lens of an older type. But depth of definition is not a quality apart, it depends entirely upon other factors, and it is better in examining a lens to determine these factors separately rather than to lump them together as depth. _Distortion_ produced by single lenses is due to the fact that the diaphragm is either in front of or behind them. If the diaphragm is in front, the image is drawn towards the centre of the plate to an extent that increases as the margin of the field is approached. A line along one side of the plate has its ends drawn in to a greater amount than its centre, because they are further from the middle of the plate, and therefore it becomes curved like the side of a barrel, and this effect is called barrel-shaped distortion. If the diaphragm is behind the lens, the displacement is outwards, also increasing towards the edges of the field, and a straight line at the edge of the plate becomes curved so that it is convex towards the centre of the plate. This is known as hour-glass distortion. Both these effects are illustrated (and exaggerated for clearness' sake) in fig. 6, the central square representing the true figure. This "curvilinear distortion" is absent in all cases in the middle of the plate and generally for a considerable area, and if single lenses of only long focal length are used, say of a focal length equal to at least one and a half times the length of the largest side of the plate, it may be neglected. Wide-angle single lenses should never be used except on a suitably small plate, so that the above conditions hold. The nearer the diaphragm is to the lens the less is the distortion, and some of the most modern single lenses have the diaphragm so near that the photographer is even more safe in the use of them. [Illustration: MELTON MEADOWS. A. HORSLEY HINTON.] _The Comparison and Use of Lenses._--The optician when he tests lenses looks for each fault individually, but this the ordinary photographer is hardly able to do, nor is it particularly desirable for him, because if a lens is inferior it matters little to him why it is so. On the other hand occasion may arise when he wants to identify a fault, then the information already given will probably be sufficient to enable him to do so, if to it is added that a small pinhole with a flame behind it is a convenient point of light, and that if the image of this luminous point is examined with a good eyepiece, without the focussing screen, at various parts of the field, the character of the defect may be discovered. The main things that the photographer needs to look to in judging of a lens or comparing it with another, are (1) that it works to focus, (2) the quality of its defining power especially towards the edges of the plate. There must also be taken into account the focal length and aperture, and if both these are not the same in the lenses to be compared they should be nearly the same, and the proportion that the aperture bears to the focal length should be exactly the same. A special diaphragm may have to be cut out of card for one of them. The best test object that is always at hand is a newspaper pinned flat against a flat wall. The camera must not be moved during the work. Each lens is very carefully focussed and a negative made, using the same aperture, time of development, and in all ways similar treatment for both. If the focal lengths are different, the images will be of correspondingly different sizes, and then the same detail must be compared, not the definition at the same distance from the centre. All good lenses work to focus, but some of the cheaper ones do not. To test this, any series of small objects arranged side by side, but at distances varying by intervals of say two inches from the camera, is photographed after carefully focussing on the middle one. If any other than the middle one is the best defined, the lens is at fault. But in this, as in all similar tests, it must be remembered that ordinary dry plates are not quite flat, and the error of the plate may make an appreciable difference. The use of lenses comprises the whole art of working with the camera, it is therefore not our province to say much about it. But so far as lenses themselves are concerned it may be remarked that, if a lens has a round field, it may be advantageous to tip up the lens with regard to the plate when only a part of the plate is being used, as for example sometimes in taking a landscape. But in using the modern flat field lenses special care should be taken to keep the lens and plate exactly true to each other, the plate exactly at right angles to the lens axis. The image and plate must coincide or definition will suffer. If the image is rounded and the plate flat, then in any case the result is only a compromise, but to take full advantage of the larger apertures when the field is flat, much more care than has been usual must be devoted to this matter. _Simple uncorrected lenses_ such as _spectacle lenses_ or "_monocles_," suffer from the defects that have already been described, and are valued on this account by some workers because they give blurred or "soft" images. With a small enough diaphragm they will give good definition, and generally it may be stated that reducing the aperture lessens the effect of any fault that a lens may possess. To get the best definition that a simple lens will give, the plate must be brought nearer the lens after focussing by about one-fiftieth of the focal length of the lens, so that it may be brought from the best focus of visual light into the best focus of the photographically active light. If the object photographed is nearer to the lens than about one hundred times its focal length, the amount of movement after focussing must be increased. If four focal lengths distant, the correction is nearly one-thirtieth of the focal length, at three focal lengths distant, nearly one-twentieth, and at two focal lengths, about a thirteenth. _Pinholes_ give an image that for all practical purposes may be said to be equally blurred or "soft" over the whole plate. Much has been written about pinholes and their use, but it is not definitely known yet whether the exposure should be longer or shorter than the exposure required when a lens is used, allowing, of course, for the smallness of the aperture. The following short table and exposure rules from the writer's "Science and Practice of Photography," will probably prove useful:-- +----------------------------+------+------+------+------+------+ | Pinholes--diameters | 1/16 | 1/22 | 1/32 | 1/45 | 1/64 | +----------------------------+------+------+------+------+------+ | Distance from plate for | | | | | | | sharpest image ... | 64 | 32 | 16 | 8 | 4 | +----------------------------+------+------+------+------+------+ All the above figures are in inches. Whatever pinhole and at whatever distance, estimate the exposure for a lens at _f_/16, _f_/22, _f_/32, _f_/45, or _f_/64, as the case may be, and multiply it by the _square_ of the number of inches that the plate is distant from the pinhole. But if the distance is as given above for any hole, it is sufficient to expose for as many minutes as the plate is inches distant from the hole, for a subject that would require one second with an aperture of _f_/16. _Chapman Jones._ _Portraiture._ [Illustration] The photographer who may be expert at landscape or architectural work, will find himself at a loss when he essays portraiture. For apart from the art of managing the sitter (a most important element in producing a successful result), he will soon find that the kind of plate that is suitable for outdoor work does not answer well for portraits, unless the developer is greatly modified, for quite a different kind of negative is required. As a general rule it is advisable to use very rapid plates for portrait work; and in this respect, at the present day we are much better supplied than even five or six years ago, and with an extra-rapid plate it is possible to secure a fully exposed negative in half a second, in weather and under lighting that was quite impossible ten years ago. The best expression and pose are generally secured when the sitter is unaware of the actual moment of exposure; and for this purpose a silent shutter working inside the camera is best. The sitter should never be _asked_ to keep still unless, in groups, and when circumstances necessitate a long exposure; and nowadays an exposure of five or six seconds is a long one. Every effort should be made to put the sitter quite at ease. A head-rest should not be used unless absolutely necessary, and few photographers are aware how easily it can be dispensed with, and fail to realize how strong an objection nearly every sitter has to it. It is far better to have an occasional plate spoilt by working without the rest than to make every sitter uncomfortable by its use. In fact some portrait negatives are actually improved by a slight movement. In a special kind of lighting when the face is in _shadow_ relieved against a light background, a slight movement which produces the effect of diffusion of focus greatly improves the result. Great care must be exercised in choosing the background even when it is only plain or graduated, and it is well worth exposing three or four plates on the same sitter, in the same position and lighting, and with the same exposure, but with different backgrounds, and then carefully comparing the resulting prints. Even if only one background is at hand its depth can be varied by placing it nearer or farther from the source of light. The background must also be selected to suit the lighting of the sitter, as a background of medium tint suitable for what is called "ordinary lighting" would be quite unsuitable for "Rembrandt" effects, or where strong contrasts of light and shade are used, when part of the face is in dark shadow. For such effects a dark background is usually best, as it gives luminosity to the shadow side of the face. But such dark grounds are not suitable for "ordinary lighting" where the face should be full of delicate half-tone, all of which would be killed by the strength of the dark background. For the Rembrandt effects a much longer exposure is necessary as less light is reflected from the face on to the sensitive plate; they will often need twice or three times as much as for ordinary portraits. When pictorial backgrounds or accessories are used it must be remembered that the object of the photograph is to secure a portrait of the _sitter_, not to show what a large stock of accessories the photographer possesses. It is best to use as few accessories as possible; I have heard a lady complain bitterly of a well-known photographer, who having posed her in a very difficult position, kept her waiting for five minutes while he arranged a screen, a palm, a footstool, a tiger-skin, etc., so that she felt positively ill before the exposure was made. The sitter should not be kept waiting in the pose to be photographed any longer than is absolutely necessary. If accessories must be used they should be simple and suitable. When portraits have to be taken in ordinary rooms it is advisable to get a friend or assistant to experiment upon, if possible beforehand. Even a few minutes spent in studying the possibilities of light and arrangement of furniture will save a great deal of worry when making the actual exposures, and nothing upsets nervous sitters more than having all kinds of experiments and arrangements made with them. But it is sometimes well worth wasting a few plates on exposures which the photographer thinks will be useless, in order to give the sitter time to get accustomed to the room; it must not be done in a fussy, irritating way, but rather to show that it is not such a very dreadful operation and really "doesn't hurt." This plan often works well with nervous children, who soon become accustomed to the room and the photographer. There is a great deal to be said in favour of the maxim "leave your sitters alone." The photographer must cultivate quick observation so that he sees at once a good pose, and secures it; and here again quick plates are essential, as many of the most charming poses are caught unexpectedly. It has been well said that the best poses the photographer secures are those he _observes_, not those he _creates_. But a spontaneous pose may not be quite perfect and a slight alteration may be easily made without disturbing the rest of the figure. It will generally be found that a pose that takes a great deal of arranging is not a success. When taking portraits in an ordinary room it is usual to place the sitter near the window, so that one side of the face is strongly lighted and the other in deep shadow, and then use a white reflector to light up the shadow side. It is often better, when the window is a large one, to place the sitter farther back in the room almost facing the window, and put the camera near the middle of the window looking into the room; a softer lighting will then be secured. For outdoor portraits a shady corner is best, and if possible, one where the side light is much subdued on one side; a light head-shade may be used with advantage. A large grey rug out of focus makes a good background; a blanket is too light. A portrait lens is best for the work; but if the photographer does not possess one, he need not despair of producing good work. A rapid rectilinear lens used at a large aperture will answer the purpose well; it should always be used at full aperture, partly for the sake of quickness in exposure, and partly to prevent accessories and parts of the dress appearing too sharp and competing in importance with the face. Subordination of parts is one of the essentials of a picture; and if we examine a _good_ portrait we shall find that probably no part of the photograph is quite sharp except the eyes and face. Otherwise the less important details are apt to obtrude themselves on our notice. A stop will generally be necessary, however, with a portrait lens if a full or three-quarter length is to be taken, and it will be found that heads only (as a rule) can be taken at full aperture. Just as good work, however, can be done with a rapid rectilinear as with a lens specially made for portraits, except where rapid exposures are to be made; but it is necessary to use one of fairly long focus. A rapid rectilinear lens used for landscape work on a half plate would be much too short in focus for giving good portraits on the same sized plate, for in order to get the figure large enough it is necessary to place the camera so near the sitter as to produce distortion. For portraits on a half plate a lens of at least nine inches focus should be used and for a whole plate not less than sixteen or eighteen inches, and longer if possible. The swing back of the camera will be found useful in portrait work for getting parts of the figures into focus that are either too far behind or too far in front of the plane of the face. For instance, a full-length figure leaning back in a chair will have the feet out of focus when the face is sharp if the back of the camera is vertical, and this applies with even greater force to groups. A side swing too is useful, but is not absolutely necessary. Even in bust portraits the swing back is useful in getting the shoulders in focus when using a large aperture, for although it is well not to have the whole of the figure in _perfect_ focus all over, it is not advisable to have the face sharp and the rest so out of focus as to be blurred. The development of a portrait plate should be different from that of a landscape, because a different kind of negative is required. A rapid plate developed so as to give a soft delicate image is best; and a developer containing more alkali and less density giver is good, and it may be considerably diluted with advantage. The image should appear within ten seconds of pouring on the developer, and the negative will generally be developed to sufficient density in from two to three minutes. With a good average rapid plate the image should show fairly well on the back of the plate, but this and the time of development will vary so much with different developers, and with the taste of each photographer that no hard and fast rule can be laid down. Developers that give a brown deposit, or that stain the film will require shorter development than those of the newer developing agents that give a cold black colour to the negative; another fact to be borne in mind is that the image formed by these latter appears to lose more density in fixing than when pyrogallic acid is used. A perfect portrait negative should have no clear glass shadows, and no part should be so dense as to give white in the finished print, and some negatives which give the best results may have a decided veiled appearance in the shadows. The temperature of the developer is another important point; in very cold weather the developer should be kept warm, or if in concentrated solutions may be diluted with warm water. In cases of known under-exposure the developer may be used quite hot with advantage. A convincing experiment can be made by cutting an exposed plate in two and developing one half with icy cold developer and the other half with warm. The difference is really remarkable. If the developer has been used hot enough to make the gelatine of the plate feel "slimy" an alum bath is necessary, unless the fixing bath contains chrome alum. METOL. 1. Water 100 parts or 10 ozs. Metol 1 part or 50 grains Sodium sulphite 10 parts or 1 oz. 2. Water 100 parts or 10 ozs. Potassium carbonate 10 parts or 1 oz. 3. Potassium bromide 1 part or 1 oz. Water 10 parts or 10 ozs. For normal exposures take 3 parts No. 1 and 1 part No. 2; to each ounce of mixed developer add 40 minims of No. 3. PYRO AND SODA. 1. Pyro 1 oz. Water 70 ozs. Nitric acid 12 drops 2. Sodium sulphite 10 ozs. Sodium carbonate (pure) 8 ozs. Water 70 ozs. Equal parts of each, for soft negatives dilute with water. To restrain for over-exposure use potassium, not ammonium bromide. Unless an acid fixing bath is used the negatives are rather green in colour. RODINAL AND HYDROKINONE. A. Sodium sulphite 1 oz. Water 20 ozs. Citric acid 1 crystal Potassium bromide 1 dram Hydrokinone 2 drams B. Potassium carbonate 2 ozs. Water 20 ozs. Rodinal 1 fluid oz. Use 1 part A, 1 part B, and 1 part of water. The question of retouching is a difficult one. There is no doubt that a certain amount of it is necessary on nearly all portrait negatives and even on those of children. But it is equally certain that the great majority of portrait negatives are over-retouched, so much so that their value both as portraits and pictures is nearly destroyed. Yet a certain amount is necessary even for pictorial effect, and perhaps still more when the question of likeness is considered. For as a rule the untouched negative is no more a true likeness than the over-retouched one. The truth lies somewhere between the two. Even if isochromatic plates are used the little differences of colour in the face, and the incipient wrinkles are exaggerated in an unpleasant way. Under-exposed negatives will show these defects in a very marked manner, full exposure will greatly reduce them. Large heavy patches of shadow may be lightened by coating the back of the negative with matt varnish, and when it is quite hard "hatching" upon it with a soft lead. Harsh lights may be reduced by scraping away the matt varnish with the point of a knife. In some cases the matt varnish may be stained with a little aurine or uranine. Exaggerated lines and small shadows must be worked upon from the front and a retouching desk is necessary. The film of the negative will not take the pencil without some preparation. The best surface is obtained by spreading a little retouching medium with the tip of the finger on the part to be touched. A thin film of soft resin is left upon the plate which takes pencil marks readily. A hard lead, No. 4 Faber or Hardtmuth, should be used. The loose leads used in what are called the "ever-pointed holders" are most convenient. The point must be very long and fine, like a large darning needle, and is best made by rubbing the lead on a piece of fine glass-paper. The pencil must be held very lightly and the lines touched away with short _light_ strokes, a heavy stroke only rubs the medium up. The little shadow at the end of the mouth often has to be reduced, often at the risk of spoiling the shape of the lips, but sitters _will_ insist upon it being done, and say "You have made my mouth much too large." Freckled faces are perhaps the most difficult to retouch, as it is well nigh impossible to remove the black patches caused by the freckles without at the same time destroying the modelling of the face. Yet it must be done, for probably the most severe stickler for truth would not insist on the black blotches that freckles produce in a photograph. A great deal can be done to improve a hard negative as soon as it leaves the fixing bath, by applying a mixture of hypo solution and a solution of ferricyanide (not ferro) of potash with a piece of cotton wool to the dense parts. The proportions for this reducing bath are as follows:--To each ounce of the ordinary hyposulphite of soda fixing bath add a few drops of a 10% solution of ferricyanide of potassium or red prussiate of potash, making the whole about the colour of pale brandy. By adding more of the ferricyanide solution the reducing action is quicker, but there is a greater liability to stain the film. The work should be done over a sink with a tap of running water at hand. The solution should be of a deep lemon colour (it is almost impossible to give exact quantities), and after a short application must be washed off under the tap, and the negative may then be examined, and the reducer applied again and again till the desired reduction is obtained. It is advisable to make a few trials on spoilt plates. For if any really good work is to be done there will be plenty of rejected negatives. Probably, of all the plates exposed on portraits by first-rate professional photographers, not more than one-fourth ever get as far as the printing-frame. Moral: Do not be chary of exposing plates, they are cheap enough now. Don't feel, "Oh! this will be good enough. I won't do another." On the other hand don't expose carelessly and recklessly and say, "It will all come right in developing." Good work is not done that way. Use every opportunity of seeing good work. Study the work of great portrait painters, but don't neglect the photographers. Go to all the exhibitions of pictures and photographs within reach. Don't be satisfied with what you have done, but make a resolve to do something better next time. Remember, what is worth doing at all is worth doing well. _Harold Baker._ [Illustration: Off Boulogne. By A. Horsley Hinton.] _Pictorial Photography._ [Illustration] Unlike the subjects of the other articles in this book, in pictorial photography we are not brought to consider one of the many processes which go to make up the photographic craft, but merely a special and exceptional application of any and all means known to the photographer. The particular end to which this application is made will be explained as far as the limits of space will permit, and some of the methods of such application will be described. Beyond this I have no intention of going. I do not present pictorial photography as a branch of photography especially worthy of study--I am not concerned in making converts. It is for the photographer who has already formed a desire to give his attention to the pictorial side of photography and who is seeking help, that this chapter is designed. First let us come to a mutual understanding as to the term Pictorial Photography. Picture-making by photography would perhaps be a simpler phrase, but that to my mind the word "picture-making" is too similar in idea to boot-making, lace-making, etc., all of which imply a mechanical manufacturing, whereas a picture--a real picture--like a musical composition, a poem or a beautiful thought, grows or is evolved rather than made to order. Art photography would be a better term, but that in photography the word "art" has been so often coupled with things the very antithesis of artistic and might hence be misleading, moreover the photographer will show discretion rather than weakness if he be not too hasty to claim for photography a position among the arts, and whilst its claims to that dignity remain as yet in dispute, we may be content with "Pictorial Photography" as a less assuming title, yet one which will sufficiently differentiate between what we may call the ordinary photographic production and---- Well, what? That is the first thing I have to try and explain. Look at the illustrations in this book on pages 72, 136, and 120, and, making due allowance for some loss of quality due to reproduction by a "half-tone" block, try to imagine what the originals were like. Then say if they please you. If you say no, you do not care for them, they do not appeal to you, you do not mind if you never saw anything of the kind again from this day henceforth; very well, doubtless there are other things in the world in which you can find pleasure, but so far as my present subject is concerned, here you and I part company. These illustrations are more or less successful reproductions of pictorial work, and if you do not like them, making as I have said due allowance for their being reproduced and reduced, then it is certain you do not want to hear anything about them, and it is not my intention to persuade you, so please pass on and make room for those who do care for these things and wish to learn all they can concerning them, or at most stand aside and peradventure some stray word dropped unintentionally may quicken your interest and discover in you a sympathy of which you were previously unconscious. [Illustration: MISS LILY HANBURY--A PORTRAIT. HAROLD BAKER.] Referring now again to the illustrations which in the absence of anything else we take as fairly typical of pictorial photographs and assuming that one or the other, if not all, do please some of my readers, I will ask them to endeavour to analyse their feelings when confronting such productions. Take now an ordinary commercial photographic view such as one may purchase from any sea-side stationer, and compare the sensations awakened by each. In the case of the topographical view we feel some satisfaction at being able to recognise a familiar spot, or the view reminds us of some other place, or it may be quaint buildings, or rugged mountains, or miles of foliage, or what not inspire curiosity or interest because we know the photograph to be a true record of facts, that is to say we accept the photograph in lieu of the actual presence of the objects represented, and experience nearly the same feelings as we should were we to visit the spot represented. We know that the wonderful, curious, or unusual things portrayed have an existence, otherwise we could not have a photograph of them. In all such cases our interest and value of the photograph would vastly diminish, were it possible for a photograph of this kind to be made simply by the photographer's hand and imagination without any original at all. You look at a photograph of this or that sea-side place and remark, "Ah, yes, that's dear old Yarmouth, many a time, etc., etc.," or else, "Dear me, I wonder what place that is, it's so like----" such and such a town, or it may be you enquire "Where's that?" and you express or think to yourself you would like to go and visit the spot. These and kindred sensations are those kindled by the average photograph, but there is yet another, for you may be impelled to exclaim, "How wonderfully clear and bright that photograph is," "What a good photograph." In this case you are interested purely in the execution as an example of clever manipulation and skilful craftsmanship. Now, compare such feelings as these with those stirred by an example of good pictorial work. In the first place your esteem for it, if you value it at all, is quite as great whether you know the place where it was made or not. If it pleases you, that pleasure is not dependent upon the fact that it does represent some place. In the case of paintings and drawings as often as not they do not pretend to represent any place at all, but are pure fiction, yet we do not value them the less. To what then is the pleasure we feel when looking at a good picture due? Is it not that a picture stirs up, that is, _creates_ pleasant or beautiful thoughts and ideas--by pleasant I do not mean necessarily merry or joyous ones, for some hearts feel profounder pleasure in the grandeur of storm or the majesty of the mountain than in the sweet wilderness of flowery wastes, but notice that such beautiful ideas are _created_ by the picture. You were thinking of something totally different before you came upon the landscape picture which instantly made you feel the glowing light, the stirring breeze, and hear the rustling corn and noisy brook, and yet it cannot be said it is because we _recognise_ these things in the picture that we receive these impressions, at least it is not the kind of recognition which takes place when we see a photograph of Brighton Pier or Haddon Hall. Notice, it is not the exact and faithful portrayal of objects that creates the emotions instanced, for if you closely observe the manner in which a good painting is done you will find that rude splashes of paint, broad brush strokes, and the like stand for foliage or water, or corn stalks as the case may be, when we know that had the painter desired he _could_ have produced his likeness of nature with a good deal more of the precise detail and fidelity to outlines which photography excels in, _had he wished_. But if the painter or other pictorial artist needs not to trouble about accuracy to details to secure the effect aimed at he must be faithful to general facts. There is a great difference between not recognising things or having no particular wish to do so, and feeling conscious that a portrayal is so utterly unlike anything in our past experience of nature that we should not recognise the objects even if we _were_ acquainted with them. To take an extreme case--our enjoyment of the effect and sentiment of a beautiful landscape picture is not enhanced by our being able to recognise whether the trees are oaks or elms, but it would be distinctly disturbed if the palm trees were represented as growing on the slopes of a Welsh mountain. Innumerable examples and instances might be given to show that the artist, whatsoever his medium, be it colour or monochrome, may depart from truth, or may be indifferent to precise details, _only so far as he avoids palpable untruth_. Why is this? When we look at a powerful and impressive picture we feel at once the sentiment, our emotions are at once stirred, subsequently we recognise objects and facts portrayed, but only when we begin to look for them or think about them; but a gross exaggeration or a very obvious error strikes us at once before we begin to receive sentiments and ideas, and that error or exaggeration once seen is never lost sight of, and whole enjoyment of the picture is hopelessly marred. Now, from the foregoing (for want of space I am aware that the argument is incomplete, and must therefore ask the student to think the matter out and grasp the side issues by reading between the lines) we may formulate the broad definition that a picture does not depend for its excellence on the faithful representation of objects, and is not chiefly valuable on account of our immediate recognition of things portrayed, yet on the other hand it must not let us feel that there is obvious inaccuracy. Here then we have two opposite positions in both of which the mere objects employed to build up the picture are subordinated to the effect or impression of the picture. In one case the spectator must not be allowed to feel that the representation is _wrong_, in the other success will not directly depend on the representation being very _right_, neither startling rightness or truth nor the obvious wrongness or untruth should thrust the objects composing the picture upon the beholder's attention, he should be left free to receive the expression or sentiment of it. I hope the reader is following me in this line of thought closely. I am aware that it may seem dry and uninteresting, but I see no other way of placing the student in a proper position at the outset than by explaining the essential elements of pictorial work, and I will make this introductory part as brief as possible. Reverting now to our argument, I have in other words suggested that obvious violation of truth will prevent the sentiment or effect of the picture from being paramount, and now I will submit that an excess of accuracy to detail is equally detrimental to the success of a picture as a picture. If by now the reader is prepared to admit that the chief purpose of a picture is the feelings, emotions, ideas which it suggests or creates, and not the facts it portrays, he will be able to go further and perceive that in a landscape, for instance, cottages, trees, or what not are introduced, not for their own intrinsic interest but as vehicles of light and shade, which go to express the picture's sentiments. If we stand before a good picture with closed eyes and suddenly open them, our first impression (precluding any question of colour) is that of masses of light and shade pleasingly and harmoniously arranged; if we retreat to such a distance that the objects constituting those lights and shades are unrecognisable the balance and pleasing arrangement should still be felt, and our æsthetic sense is satisfied, although we do not see fully of what the picture is composed. This is the quality which is termed breadth and which is admittedly of very great value. If on the other hand the shadow masses are filled with innumerable details, and are thus broken up into tiny lights and shadows they no longer exist as broad masses of dark, but if before retreating as proposed from the picture, the lights or shadows appear so blank as to prompt particular investigation, and upon examination we find detail absent which we know must have been present, then we encounter an instance of untruth and exaggeration which is obvious and which disturbs our appreciation of other fine qualities. Thus we require _sufficient detail to avoid giving the idea that detail is left out_. The delineation of sharp outlines and redundance of detail is not wrong in itself, but it is usually inexpedient when considered with respect to the effect to be produced, similarly the suppression of sharp focus both as regards outlines and details has no artistic merit of itself except as it assists the picture to impress the beholder first with the general effect. The painter and photographer start from two opposite standpoints. The painter, or draughtsman, starts with nothing but blank paper, and having built up his picture and produced his desired effect he elaborates no further; the photographer with his more or less mechanically produced _facsimile_ starts from the opposite extreme with a transcendentally elaborate image, from which he will require to eliminate all such excess of truth as is likely to force the mere facts of the view upon the beholder's attention. Photography, so faultlessly complete in its delineation, gives us _more than the pictorial worker needs for the expression of an idea_, and this is why I would remind the student that pictorial photography is not photography in the full sense of the word, but the application of some of its powers, just as much as we need and no more, to a definite end. As just hinted the purpose of a picture is to express ideas, hence I will fall back on a kind of definition which I have used on a previous occasion that a picture is the portrayal of visible concrete things for the expression of abstract ideas. To give an example by way of exposition we may look upon a picture and be made to feel by it the calm and luminous atmosphere of evening; we feel at once the restfulness, and almost feel the warmth of the humid air, giving place to the chill gathering mists of night; but the same objects, the same tangible materials, paper, pigment, metallic salts, etc., in another picture give us the sense of angry turbulent storm or perhaps bright joyous sunshine frolicking with the fresh breezes on the hill-tops. These are abstract ideas expressed or created by the manner in which concrete things, commonplace facts, are portrayed and rendered. Finally, let me enunciate that a very excellent photograph may not necessarily be a good picture, because it may contain more than is required for the expression of its idea, and the surplus will overwhelm it; again, a good pictorial photograph may be but a poor photograph, because if we claim the right to apply photographic means to pictorial ends, we may find it convenient to leave out the very qualities which the scientific or technical expert considers most precious. And now I think we may proceed to more practical matters. COMPOSITION AND SELECTION. In all matters from which the eye expects to derive pleasure, symmetry of design seems essential. In the formation of the letters that we write, in personal attire, in the decoration of our homes, in buildings, and practically in everything which is not of a purely utilitarian character, a sense of proportion and a symmetrical disposition of parts is observed. Hence it is no source of surprise that in a picture which as much as anything should aim at pleasing the eye, design, otherwise Composition, is with Expression a co-essential. In a purely decorative production this natural desire of design is the only thing to be observed, but in a picture which _may_ be decorative, but _must_ be something more, we have expression as well to consider. If decoration alone were to be regarded, something like fixed rules might perhaps be tyrannically laid down, but in a picture the implicit observance of rules of composition would be certain to make itself seen in the result, and the undue obtrusiveness of a code of rules would be as inimical to the supremacy of ideas and feelings, as the excessive prominence of fact would be, which has already been described. Hence the difficulty in prescribing any definite course for the beginner, because whilst to most instinctive artistic temperaments a certain knowledge of or feeling for composition is natural, so soon as this is reduced to definite rule and given to another, the, as it were, secondhand use, is nearly certain to betray itself by its misapplication. I would ask therefore that any suggestions given here on the subject of composition should be taken as one takes lessons in the rudiments of a language, which rudiments we violate and forget so soon as we have become proficient enough to speak it. _Such rules in composition should be observed only so far as to avoid the appearance of having infringed or ignored them._ The rules of composition which may be found to apply in one of the pictorial arts must necessarily apply equally in the others, and so therefore to pictorial photography which at least aspires to be considered an art. If on a sheet of paper a rectangular space is given us wherein to draw the likeness of anything, the most natural course to pursue would be to draw that figure in the centre or thereabouts, and if then we are asked to add the likeness of two or three more objects we should naturally place these near the first object. Thus should we compose a group of objects which draw the attention to the middle of the picture or space. Suppose we are asked to draw the picture of a church tower we should probably comply with the request somewhat as shown in fig. 1. Next we will suppose we are asked to add a cottage, some trees, and a path to the church, we should, if possessed of some sense of symmetry and order, coupled with average intelligence, make the additions somewhat as in fig. 2. It would surely be an unusual thing to follow instead the course suggested by figs. 3 and 4. In figs. 1 and 2 we have instinctively placed the primary object in or near the centre, and the others near and around it, and the result strikes one at once as being better composed, that is, more symmetrical, than in fig. 4, in which amongst other things one is not sure which object to regard as the principal one, and one also feels that but for the boundaries of the picture left and right we might have seen a good deal more beyond, which would have added to the interest of the picture. [Illustration: Fig. 1.] [Illustration: Fig. 2.] [Illustration: Fig. 3.] [Illustration: Fig. 4.] In this we have one of the first rules in composition, namely, that the principal object should be near the centre, and the next important near to, and as it were supporting it, and no object likely to attract the eye should be so near the edge of the picture as to make us instantly conscious of the boundaries and wish to see more beyond. But now if in compliance with the supposed request we had made our drawing as in fig. 5, might it not at once be felt by the observer that we had put the objects in a central position _intentionally_, which is equivalent to saying that we had allowed our endeavour to observe the rule just laid down to betray itself. Fig. 2 is preferable as being only just sufficiently symmetrical to avoid being unsymmetrical, which is an example of what has already been said about the necessity of observing rules of composition just so far as to escape the appearance of having broken them. [Illustration: Fig. 5.] [Illustration: Fig. 6.] If this rule is right as regards voluntarily drawing a picture, it is equally so in the case of a photograph, but instead of deliberately placing things in such and such positions, we attain the same end by moving the camera and selecting our point of view so that the objects come into the positions desired. Now suppose then, we have done this, but in doing it we are quite unable to prevent other objects coming into the field of view and occupying undesirable places near the margins of the picture, as for instance in fig. 6. Here we are brought to consider another rule or principle in composition, namely, that there must be one and only one chief object in the picture, whereas in fig. 6, apart from the gate and tree on the one side and the windmill on the other attracting attention to the margins of the picture, these same objects arrest the attention quite as much as the church, and we feel the eye wandering about from one to the other and missing the sensation of centralization and rest which fig. 2 gives. If we were drawing or painting we should put in what we want and then stop, we should omit or ignore what we did not require, but in photography our powers in this direction are limited, and hence we must as far as possible select those views, and only accept such, as comply with what we feel to be right. The angle of view included by different lenses is an auxiliary not to be neglected, for by substituting a narrower angle lens, that is, one of longer focus, we may cut off or leave out undesirable objects which the shorter focus lens might include. Then again, when the print is finished we can after careful consideration cut off what would have been better left out, for it will be better to have a picture half the size well composed, than double the number of inches with a distracting and unsatisfactory arrangement of objects, hence with many most successful workers it is no uncommon thing to take quite a small portion of a negative, and either print it as it is or else enlarge it up to the desired size, but mere size will reckon as nothing as compared with pleasing composition. If it is inexpedient to let the principal object or group of objects occupy the exact centre of the picture, measured from left to right, it is equally so if the centre be measured from top to bottom, and hence we may formulate the rule (to be broken perhaps later when we are strong enough to be independent of guiding) that the horizon should not be allowed to come midway between the top and the base of the picture. [Illustration: Fig. 7.] [Illustration: Fig. 8.] Remembering now that, as set forth in the earlier part of this article, a picture should appeal to our feelings and stir our emotions, it may be pointed out that in most ordinary things, and certainly in the arts, the most powerful things are those which possess _one_ dominant idea or feature, as in a piece of music the refrain keeps recurring, a preacher takes a text, in a story there is _one_ hero, and so forth, and in point of composition fig. 7 is better than fig. 8, although the view is less comprehensive. [Illustration: Fig. 9.] It may not, however, always be easy for the beginner to determine what is the chief object which should occupy the central position, or which object or group to choose in a landscape. [Illustration: Fig. 10.] This brings us to speak of another important matter, and that is the right disposition of lines which form the view or the selection of view so that the lines formed by the component parts shall fall in a desirable manner. The various objects in any view tend to form or suggest lines, thus in fig. 9 the outline of the trees, the bank along the shore, the clouds, and the boats suggest the lines shown in the diagram, fig. 10, which lines all run the same way, but in fig. 11 we have a similar view in which the lines suggested counterbalance each other, and not only so, but by their convergence they carry the eye to a spot near the centre, and so make the boat, although not very large nor conspicuous, the one and principal object (see diagram fig. 12). [Illustration: Fig. 11.] [Illustration: Fig. 12.] For the sake of training one's perceptions look at any good pictures, and in your mind resolve them into line diagrams and see how these lines fall, and in considering any landscape or other subject to be photographed make up your mind as to what lines are suggested, and then select your point of view so that these lines balance or are symmetrical in arrangement, and also that they converge towards some point well within the picture, and near the centre of it. [Illustration: Fig. 13.] But in fig. 13 we have a subject in part well composed, but the composition is spoilt because of the line formed by the road and fence, which seem to cut the picture in two, whereas could we have chosen the same subject from a point of view giving such an arrangement as fig. 14, a difference is at once felt and a more pleasing effect gained. [Illustration: Fig. 14.] [Illustration: Fig. 15.] [Illustration: Fig. 16.] Lines which seem to separate us from the picture and cut off one part from another must be carefully avoided, and an endeavour to find something which will, as it were, lead the eye into the picture, should be diligently sought for, and indeed a subject, however it may interest us, must often be abandoned if it lacks those things which go to make pleasing composition, remembering as we should always do that in pictorial work the fact that objects are curious, or interesting, or pretty, has nothing to do with the case, but that they are only to be valued according as they act as media for expressing pleasing ideas, beautiful thoughts and sentiments, which they will not do if some part creates a feeling of unpleasing arrangement or design. If a scene does not compose well, we should as pictorial workers feel no desire to reproduce it. But you may say "Cannot we often by changing our point of view get an otherwise ill-composed subject to compose well?" Most decidedly, that is precisely what we should do, but it is no longer the same subject or view. And now let me say that it is often surprising how much alteration may be made by changing our position. Figs. 15 and 16 are together an instance of this, the outline here given being made from a pencil sketch made on the spot, whilst figs. 17 and 18 are examples of the desirable change brought about by watching and waiting for a change in the position of light and the condition of the river's tide. [Illustration: Fig. 17.] [Illustration: Fig. 18.] Where the beginner most often fails is in taking things as they are without pausing to consider whether they might not be improved, and if so in what way, and then patiently searching to see if such better way can be found. Pictorial success will as often as not depend on the exercise of fastidious taste, which is satisfied with nothing but the very best, and not quite content even then. A great deal more might usefully be said with reference to the composition of lines if space would permit, but this general reference may be given as a sort of summing up. If the disposition of the lines constitutes such a perfectly symmetrical design that it is at once recognised as symmetrical, then it is wrong, because the artifice by which pleasing composition is attained is betrayed, and we feel the thing to be artificial. If, on the other hand, the lines fall so as to make the beholder conscious of their presence, as, for instance, cutting off a portion of the subject or presenting a one-sided appearance, again it is wrong. _In neither case should the lines or the objects suggesting them be felt at all until sought for, neither as being very right or very wrong._ In art it is a maxim that the means by which the thing is done should not proclaim itself, and hence it must apply to pictorial photography, which is an effort after the artistic. A composition should please without our quite knowing why, and without our being able to see the machinery, as it were, by which our pleasurable sensations are set in motion. But whilst it is convenient to speak of _lines_ in the landscape, it is only a manner of speaking, for, as we know very well, photography, unlike pen drawing, has to do with "tones," that is, _masses_ of light and shade. Now the general rules suggested as regards the arrangement of lines, apply in much the same way if we regard a picture (as we should do) as consisting of masses of light and shade. If when standing before a picture we close the eyes and then suddenly open them, our attention is certain to be drawn to the highest light or the deepest shadow, and hence, as a general rule, whichever of these is the strongest to attract attention, that should be in or near the principal object (indeed it will make of itself the principal object), and should therefore be well removed from the margins of the picture. Refer back to fig. 8, in which the light patch of sky, the light in the water and the two clusters of light rushes, all form competing points of attraction, and if these are too near the margins, they remind us of those margins, hence the improvement in effect when these are cut away or left out. But disposing of the highest light and deepest dark does not finish the matter. There is a certain relative degree of lightness and darkness between everything in nature. Moreover, colours have to be interpreted by certain degrees of light and shade according to the distance objects are away from us, and according to the amount of light falling on them. Such relative lightness and darkness is called "_tone_." The word used in this sense has nothing to do with "tone" as applied to the colour of a print, which colour we change by a process we call "toning," and upon the correct rendering of relative tones so much of the effect of a picture depends, and so much of its emotional qualities. Generally speaking, although there are often exceptions, the further an object is from us the grayer it seems. White becomes less white, and dark objects grow less dark, until in the distance both, under ordinary circumstances, come almost to the same "tone," and we see the distance only as a gray hazy mass. If for a subject we have a figure of a woman by a stream of water and we make an under-exposed negative of it, or develop the negative to too great a density, we shall very likely have a print in which the water and the woman's apron and cap come very much whiter with regard to the rest of the subject than ever they appear in nature, whilst the distance will very likely come too dark. Here we show a disregard for the correct rendering of relative tones and the effect is hard and harsh, unlike nature. We must therefore endeavour, both in exposure and development and printing, to preserve relative tones exactly as they are in nature, and constant study and observation of nature should be carried on in order that the eye may be trained to know how things come relatively in nature, and so be able to decide at a glance if the photograph is good. Ultimate success, by the way, often depends less on knowing what to take and how to take it than on a well-trained judgment which knows what is good or bad when we have taken it. Whilst the mere lines or forms of objects may impart some amount of feeling and sentiment to a scene, inasmuch as there is restfulness and repose in the long horizontal lines of the river-side pastures, something rhythmical in the sinuous curves of the winding stream, or vigour and variety in the irregular forms of the rugged cliffs and so on, yet the ideas and feelings which the picture will promote depend more on the lights and shades, and the masses contrasting or merging each with each. But Nature does not always present herself in pleasingly arranged masses, and is consequently at such times commonplace and unpicturesque in the literal sense of the word. At such times she will not attract the pictorial worker any more than she will when perchance the lines and groupings are unsuitable. The landscape which basks under the full blaze of sun, glittering throughout every inch with a myriad twinkling lights and sharp details, awakens no feeling akin to those which probably everyone feels when in the twilight of evening plane after plane recedes as one broad flat tint behind the other. Under the bright light of day we may wonder at the richness and plenty upon the earth, we may rejoice in that there are so many curious and pretty things to look at, but these are like the feelings inspired by reading a book on natural history, rather than the emotions created by the perusal of a poem, or listening to sweet music. [Illustration: Fig. 19.] Compare for a moment the two photographs, fig. 19 and fig. 20. The first is by no means an extreme case of the ordinary photograph, and notice that although the composition is fairly good as far as grouping goes, there is an absence of any quality which might make one feel anything outside the bare recognition of the facts depicted, but the second, if it be good at all, must depend for admiration on a certain amount of sentiment which it suggests or creates. You will notice that in the first there is no sense of distance, and although a church tower, behind the masts of the boats, is half a mile or so away it does not possess the "tone" and veiling of atmosphere which would make it appear distant. Every part of the view seems equally near, or nearly so; the eye wanders over the whole, alighting on details here and there which interest and amuse, yet there is an absence of just that breadth which is noticeably present in the second example. [Illustration: Fig. 20.] Now let it be distinctly understood that detail, its omission or suppression, and its introduction or sharp delineation, is not a question of lens focus only, or even chiefly, but it is largely a question of light. Imagine the photograph, fig. 19, with the greater part of the detail taken out so that the quay, the houses, the shore, etc. were just broad masses of lighter or darker tone, should we not then get a composition which would be less disturbing, more compact, more concentrated in interest? Is not this the case in fig. 20, in which detail is almost entirely absent? And yet detail could not have been truthfully introduced in this photograph, because with the light in the position it is, and in the misty evening air, _no detail was there to reproduce_; it was the fact that objects ranged themselves in masses one against the other, leaving room for imagination and creating ideas that determined its selection and its consequent portrayal. In many cases a clear and sharp delineation of details will perhaps be desirable, not, however, for the sake of showing detail, but just so far as the production of the effect may require; on the other hand, just the full amount of detail that a lens will give is by no means always wanted. _Lenses were not invented for pictorial purposes_, and therefore there is no reason for concluding that what the lens gives is necessarily right, for remember that we started with the distinct understanding that we were merely _applying_ to a certain purpose just so much of the photographic process as we considered we needed; because I have the means of travelling at sixty miles an hour there is no reason why I should not apply the same means of locomotion to coaching a pedestrian at a tenth of that speed if I choose. It may be said that in the two photographs referred to the comparison is not a fair one, because so much depends on the sky. Granted that much in the second example does depend on the sky, which is an essential part of the picture, and indeed one cause of its very existence, but in the other (fig. 19) the presence of clouds would not improve the pictorial faults to which reference has been made. As a mere record or portrayal of Old Woodbridge Quay, the absence of clouds is as much a characteristic of its particular species, as the clouds in the second one are inseparable from its existence. So, but little more than half hinting at the principles involved in the due suppression of unnecessary details, and the elimination of undesirable objects in order to obtain breadth, and having said but little as to the preservation of correct relative values or tones, I must pass on. Every corner of nature's broad expanse is, as it were, enveloped in atmosphere, and invisible as we are commonly in the habit of considering it to be, it affects to a greater or less degree everything we see, and the visible atmosphere is often responsible for some of nature's most beautiful and most appealing aspects. Obviously then we cannot afford to leave out so important a contributory to picturesque effect, and it is on this account rather than on account of sharp or un-sharp detail that the question of stops and lens apertures comes in. Look at the image of a landscape on a moderately hazy day, as it appears on the ground-glass focussing screen of your camera, using the lens at full aperture--then quickly insert _f_/32, and notice the difference. Not alone have objects near at hand and more remote become more sharply or more equally defined, but you may also notice that objects are _more brilliant_, and that a sense of atmosphere has been cut out. Compare if you will two photographs, the one made respectively with full aperture of _f_/6 or _f_/8 and the other made with _f_/32 or _f_/45, and provided that in the first case we have not actual blurring to the extent of destroying form and structure, does not the first remind you more of nature? I do not say it is so instructive, so surprising, so dainty, or of such exquisite finish, but is it not more reminiscent of the _effects_ we remember to have seen and _felt_ in nature. It is not the function of this article to say to what optical laws this difference is due, and yet the student may expect to receive something by way of practical working instructions. My recommendation is then to use a single landscape lens or the single combination of a doublet, and in starting to use the full aperture. With this it may be that when the foreground is moderately sharp, trees more remote are so ill defined as to appear as a collection of little blots and irregular patches. Whilst sharp detail in all places may not be productive of pictorial effect, yet the extreme opposite will be displeasing in another way, and it will be best to secure just _so much definition and no more_ as shall save the representation from appearing to have been wilfully put out of focus--once let the destruction of detail be obvious and we betray the artifice by which we are working, which is just what we should avoid. In the case just supposed then, we may now introduce the first stop, simultaneously racking the lens in a little until we get middle distance without unpleasantly obvious blurring. The foreground may be a little out of focus, and in practice I find it is rather helpful to general effect if detail is sacrificed more in the foreground than in the middle distance. This I believe is contrary to the teaching of many, but my feeling is that with a sharply defined foreground the eye is attracted and the interest so far arrested, that it is difficult to travel further and enter into the poetry and sentiment of the scene beyond. Wide-angle lenses have a double disadvantage, shared in part by so-called rapid rectilinear doublet lenses. In the first place they flatten the view, bringing distant planes to appear as near as the nearer ones, and by including a comparatively wide angle they bring into the plane of the foreground, objects so near that they appear out of proportion, and hence proportions are false when judged as the observer must judge by the standard of visual perspective. A long-focus, narrow-angle lens necessitates a camera which racks out to a considerable length, and probably a greater extension than any camera in the ordinary way can give, would be an advantage on some occasions. Passing reference has been made to the interpretation of colours in nature in their true relative value of black and white. If we have a subject in which brilliant orange-coloured rushes in autumn are seen as glowing bright against a background of dark blue water, and the rushes made still more golden of hue by the ruddy rays of a sinking sun, a difficult case is before us. Such a case I remember very well in the south of Devonshire, close to what is known as Slapton Ley. It was late afternoon in November, and from over the rounded hills behind me to the westward, the declining sun sent warm red rays on to the belt of faded reeds which stretched out into the expanse of the still land-locked water of the Ley--a great sheet of fresh water which placidly lay under the shelter of the bank of shingle which alone separated it from the ever-restless sea--placidly listening to the ceaseless voices of sea music, and at this particular hour reflecting the sky deep blue and of almost leaden hue--just above the bank rose the full moon, orange in tint, on a background of blue-green sky--the yellow reeds, kindled into glowing amber tints by the sun's rays, flamed out from the deep blue water--yellow the shingle bank against the blue water and green-blue sky, deeper yellow the moon as it rose from out the sea. So grand a scheme of colour that by its side the essays of the most daring painter might well seem feeble, so exquisite a poem that the intrusion of the photographer, analysing the values and tones and calculating his powers of reproduction seemed like sacrilege. In the main it was yellow, orange-yellow, and red standing out as luminous against the deep blue of water and only a little less blue sky. It was gorgeous non-actinic colour appearing as _light_ against a highly actinic but _darker_ colour. The consequence of an indiscreet exposure with an ordinary plate might be anticipated to produce _dark_ rushes against a _pale grey_ background of water, and so probably the very effect we were minded to secure, reversed and dissipated. This is an extreme case, perhaps, but throughout the whole range of nature the contrasting and blending of adjacent colours is so subtle a thing that I should feel one were throwing away at least a possible advantage by not using colour-corrected or isochromatic plates on nearly every occasion, and in order to get the full advantage of isochromatic plates, I should consider the addition of a yellow screen an essential. The rapidity of one's plates, isochromatic or otherwise, must be governed entirely by the nature of the subject, as also to some degree must be development and subsequent printing. In every case I would endeavour to get a comparatively thin negative, with even the portions representing deepest shadows slightly veiled. "Clear glass shadows" is an enormity and an outrage both of science and art; equally are solid high-lights to be shunned. With modern printing methods it needs much less than actual opacity in the negative to produce white paper, and if the picture requires any part of it at all to appear as quite white, no subject will need more than the very smallest region to be so. A general softness and very subtle gradation, with a total absence of "sparkle" and brilliancy in the negative, will yield by at least most processes the most suggestive print, bearing in mind that delicate gradations suggest atmosphere, and atmosphere is one of nature's most precious qualities. Whilst plain salted papers sensitized with silver present possibilities not yet sufficiently exploited, yet until such time that something more entirely satisfactory in all respects is given us in silver papers, platinotype and carbon, and perhaps also gum bichromate will be the processes most suitable for our purpose. Personally, platinotype has been the favoured medium, being, as I believe, more ductile and more amenable to various methods of control than is generally recognised. And leaving much more of importance unsaid than space limits admit of my saying, I must leave it. _A. Horsley Hinton._ _Architectural Photography._ [Illustration] To the majority amateurs, the photographing of architectural subjects presents considerable, and in many cases apparently insurmountable difficulties. Undoubtedly there are difficulties to be grappled with, but they are neither so formidable nor so numerous, but that any ordinary photographer with the average amount of common sense can master them be he so minded. Unfortunately there are a great many who take up photography as an amusement to whom the slightest departure from the ordinary routine presents a difficulty. It is however to the amateur photographer who desires to be able to portray architecture, be it either of our cathedrals, churches, historic mansions, or places of personal interest, and at the same time wishes to be able to do the subjects fair justice, that it is hoped the following particulars may be of some service. To the beginner taking up this or indeed any branch of photography, size is of course a great consideration either from the weight carrying or pecuniary point of view. Another reason is the fact that young photographic workers have an idea that the smaller the plate, the easier the working. Sound though this reasoning may appear, nevertheless it is not entirely correct. As a matter of fact all things being taken into consideration the larger the plate up to 12 × 10 or 15 × 12 employed the more rapidly will the worker progress. Large plates, especially in architectural work, tend to make the operator more careful and conscientious when out with the camera; and even more so when in the developing room. So much more can be done with a large plate than with a small one; the use of a large plate moreover checks the common failing so prevalent among amateurs of rushing work and recklessly using plates. Taking all things into consideration, I would strongly recommend the whole plate or 10 × 8 camera to the student taking up this branch of our art. In selecting a camera purchase a front extending one with bellows only slightly tapering. See that it has both rising and cross movement to the front, and also that the amount of movement in each case is a not too restricted one. Makers, unfortunately, do not give sufficient attention to this matter, the usual rise allowed being very slight whereas it should be at least equal to one-third of the longest way of the plate; even more than this is advantageous if it can be obtained. By the rise I mean the amount of upward movement that can be obtained, the lens being in the centre before starting. The cross-front should have a movement of about one-quarter of the length of the plate each way. It may be useful to know that a little more rise can be obtained by the placing of the lens above the centre of the cross-front; reference to the photograph of camera will explain this matter more fully. The swing-back should be a practical one, working from the centre, and capable of being swung either to or from the lens. In many of the cheaper front extension cameras it is not possible to use the swing-back when tilting the camera down, only when tilting upwards. The swing-front, although not an absolute necessity, is undoubtedly a movement possessing great advantages, especially when the front is raised rather high, and one is using a lens of limited covering power. This movement should be acquired if possible. The camera should possess double extension, focussing by rackwork, and having a reversing back so made that it will fit on all ways; it is then possible to draw the slide shutter out in any position. In selecting a tripod stand purchase one of the kind known as the sliding leg variety, two-fold is better than three, giving greater sliding power. The top of stand should be as large as possible; this is preferable to a turntable, as this piece of workmanship is seldom rigid after a little use, and some difficulty is experienced when trying to spread the legs out rather wide. A two-fold Ashford stand is as good as any on the market. The blocks herewith illustrate the kind of camera used by myself, and with the exception of the turntable, which is not a great success, it answers all requirements. In the selecting of suitable lenses a great deal will depend upon the inclination of the purchaser and the depth of his pocket. There is such a great variety upon the market at the present time, that to the young photographer the buying of the right lenses is somewhat a difficult problem. [Illustration] [Illustration] The Zeiss series are undoubtedly the finest obtainable and for architectural work are unrivalled, possessing great covering power, good marginal definition, and in fact very fine definition all over the plate. The lenses of this series, although quite new, have met with great favour amongst architectural workers. They work at an aperture of _f_/18, but I understand that they can be opened to _f_/16 and numbered on the _f_ system. As regards their relative working capabilities they give about the same picture at _f_/32 that the majority of wide-angle lenses give at _f_/64. The Goerz anastigmats are also another very fine series but do not give anything like the covering power of the last mentioned, and moreover are nearly double the price. Their special merit is that one can work at _f_/8 or _f_/11, and get a picture sharp up to the edges. Taylor, Taylor & Hobson also make a good wide-angle lens, possessing great covering power and at a moderately low price. With one of their nine inch lenses I have covered a plate 12 × 10 inches. [Illustration: "GATHER THE ROSES WHILE YE MAY, OLD TIME IS STILL A-FLYING." ALEX. KEIGHLEY.] For a whole-plate camera, a useful battery would be a 5 inches, 7-1/2 inches, 9 inches and 12 inches; for 10 × 8, 7 inches, 9 inches, 10-1/2 inches and 14 inches. The three last in each case are the most useful. Having selected the lenses, another very important point and one not to be decided hastily is the question of levels. Four are required, two circular and two ordinary. They are placed as follows: Fix the circular levels, one on the baseboard near the front of the camera, the other on the top of the back part of camera. The other two should be placed one on the side of the back part and the other on the back of camera just under the reversing back. Care must be taken to purchase slow moving levels as some work so quickly that it is next to impossible to level the camera with them, and as this is one of the most important points in the whole business, too much care cannot be taken in selecting and fixing the right kind of level. [Illustration] The focussing screen should be ruled as accompanying diagram. This will divide the screen into inch squares, working from the centre, and will considerably assist the photographer in "sizing his subject up." One other thing required is a set of clamps for binding the tripod legs together. These are, I believe, made by George Mason, of Glasgow, but any dealer will procure them for you. The use of the right kind of plate constitutes a very important factor in the production of a satisfactory negative, particularly in this branch. Owing to the greater difficulty experienced in developing extra rapid plates, one generally sees the slower variety recommended. No hard and fast rule can however be laid down. To gain the best result, the plate must be suited to the subject. For instance, in a very dark interior in which heavy black shadows predominate, many of them appearing much darker than they really are owing to their close proximity to a strong light, the quicker the plate used the better. This tends to break down the harsh contrasts, and at the same time the shadow detail is considerably better rendered. On the other hand, working in a light interior or one which is flat owing possibly to the large amount of light present, a slower plate can be used with advantage, and, providing the exposure is sufficient the result will be all that is wished for. Exteriors, particularly those in sunshine, should be photographed on a fairly quick plate. Slow plates, although good, do not yield nearly such good negatives, and unless very fully exposed give excessive hardness. Taking this class of work all round, the quick plate is the more useful of the two and is undoubtedly the best for interior work, particularly such interiors as one meets in our English cathedrals. For all subjects possessing strong high-lights, such as windows, stained or otherwise, rapid plates combined with a suitable backing composition yield the best results, and I would impress upon the reader the fact that no plate should ever be placed in a dark slide without being covered at the back with a suitable composition for the prevention of halation. [Illustration] The value of this agent is distinctly demonstrated by the accompanying illustrations, and I would point out the fact that the negatives were both developed with the utmost care. The unbacked plate was so developed as to prevent the appearance of halation as much as possible, and it will be noticed that all portions of the photograph, other than that where halation has occurred, are nearly as good in the unbacked as in the backed one. Having obtained all the apparatus and materials, a very good subject to begin on and one giving good opportunities for the exercise of the various movements connected with the camera, etc., is a general view of the choir in some cathedral or church near at hand. Having erected the camera, the next thing is to decide upon the most pleasing point of view. Speaking from my own experience I would advise the shifting of the camera either to the right or left, so that the centre aisle is thrown slightly in perspective. This tends to give a much better and decidedly more pleasing effect to the resulting photograph. Of the two sides, moving to the right seems to be the best. The next item is the fixing of your ground line, this must be so arranged that it is quite clear, not obstructed by the backs of chairs, etc., which look very badly if left standing. Personally, I have generally found it necessary to move one or two rows of chairs so as to make the ground line myself. In adjusting the height of the camera from the ground it is well never to exceed six feet. Five feet to five feet six inches is the most useful height. This will give a photograph in which the point of sight is the same as that of the person actually viewing the subject. The placing of the camera on step ladders, chairs, or other supports, so as to overlook objects in the immediate foreground is a practice to be condemned, giving results very rarely pleasing and always bad from the sightseer's point of view. Having settled upon the point of view and the lens to be used, the student should then roughly focus the image. Notice the amount of subject on the plate and how much rise is required. If having a camera such as described, the rise is easily accomplished and the camera can then be truly levelled up. Care should be taken over this as unless you have the camera exactly level you cannot expect a true picture. The bubbles of the levels should be _exactly_ in the centre, _a little bit out will not do_. [Illustration] If it is found that the rising front fails to give the amount of subject required, recourse must be made to the swings, and it is here that the swing front triumphs over the swing back. To swing the back necessitates the shifting of the camera and tripod stand, and at once throws all the levels out of gear. Then comes re-focussing, etc. Sometimes this will have to be gone through five or six times before the desired amount of swing has been achieved. Owing to the re-focussing required every time the camera is moved it is very difficult, especially for the beginner, to rightly estimate the amount of rise required. With the swing front the desired amount of rise is attained easily and quickly, and it can be worked with the head still under the focussing cloth, which is a great convenience. At the same time the baseboard and back of camera always remain level. After gaining the correct amount of rise the sides of the subject should be considered. A golden rule to remember in this class of work is when you show a column, show the base of it, and always start the sides of plate with either half or three-quarters of a column. It looks very queer to see the bend of an arch wandering away out of the side of the picture without any apparent support. In arranging the sides it is usual to have a preponderance of subject on the opposite side to which the camera is, and to start that side with a column. Sometimes the subject fails to fit the plate nicely, in that case it is better to trim the print than to have uninteresting features present. Of course a great deal depends upon the personal taste of the worker, what one man considers right another will rebel against; so although I advocate the use of columns to fill the sides of the plate it does not follow that that is the one and only method of photographing these subjects. The student having carefully gone into these matters and arranged the subjects to suit his own satisfaction the question of what point to focus for arises, and indeed in very dark interiors the question of focussing anything at all comes in. A method I use myself is to roughly divide the distance from the camera to the farthest object in half, and then to focus midway between the camera and the middle of the subject. Then stop down the lens until the most distant object is sharp. In practice I have found this rule so good that I can recommend its adoption for all subjects, and if carried out correctly will always result in the production of crisp negatives. Exposure is not a very difficult thing to overcome. Arrange the focussing cloth well over the head, open the lens out to its largest aperture and remain under the cloth until you can see the image distinctly all over the plate. Then without uncovering the head proceed to slowly stop down until you can only just see the image all over the plate. Now using a plate of the rapidity of Barnet extra rapid, an exposure of ten minutes will yield a satisfactory fully exposed negative. The varying exposures for other plates and stops are easily obtained. For instance you find the image can just be seen all over at _f_/32 and you wish to use _f_/64 The exposure will be forty minutes. After having used this method for over seven years, and having invariably found it correct, I can unhesitatingly recommend its adoption, and if used with a little common sense the worker will seldom suffer from his plates being either badly under or over-exposed. In photographing side aisles, transepts, or long rows of pillars, the worker is often troubled by the unnatural way in which the floor runs up. This is more especially noticeable when there are no prominent objects in the immediate foreground. A considerable amount of this can however be overcome by the lowering of the camera to about three feet from the ground. It is here where the sliding legs of the tripod stand become of service. I would ask the student always to use the longest focus lens possible, consistent with the effect desired. The use of extreme wide-angle lenses has had a disastrous effect upon the public taste in respect to architectural photography due principally to the abortions one sees exposed for sale in the shop windows of our cathedral cities. It should be seldom necessary for the amateur to use very wide-angle lenses. Of course, when it is a question of getting a detailed photograph in a confined situation a wide-angle lens is of great service. But it is when you see the whole length of a cathedral photographed on a whole plate with a five inch lens that the fault is so noticeable. In photographing exteriors great care should be taken in the placing of the camera in a suitable spot. Try and so arrange it that the short side of the building does not run off too violently, indeed, it is often much better to leave out a portion of the subject rather than to cram the whole subject upon the plate. General views are much better if photographed when there is a little sunlight. This gives to the subject a sharp, clean-cut appearance. Details on the other hand are better if photographed in a subdued light and slightly over-exposed. In focussing very high subjects some difficulty will be found in getting bottom and top in focus at the same time, especially if the lens be strained by either altering the back or front of the camera. The best place to focus is a little way above the centre of the screen, so that when stopped down the bottom of the building is quite sharp. A slight softness towards the top of the subject is scarcely noticeable in the final print. The exposure of exteriors varies between three seconds at _f_/64 to ten minutes, and no correct guide can possibly be given. To the beginner a Watkins' exposure meter will here be of some service. If people are continually passing and repassing stop the lens down to _f_/64 and give as long an exposure as is possible; this will as a rule completely obliterate them. I have found that an exposure of from ten to twenty seconds entirely destroys all trace of moving objects. Another method of making an exposure where there is much traffic past the building, and perhaps people standing about whom you cannot very well ask to move, is, to break the exposure as many times as possible. Expose for two seconds, then wait until the traffic has somewhat altered; then give another two seconds and so on until finished. By this means I have been able to photograph buildings in the centre of a crowded street or thoroughfare without a trace of anybody showing. It is often interesting for the student to be able to successfully tackle the photographing of drawing-room, ball-room, or other apartments either of his own or friends' houses. This work is considerably more difficult than it seems; and it is in such subjects that the taste of the operator becomes manifest. A great deal depends upon the point of view chosen and also upon the arrangement of the furniture. If a long room, the camera should be placed at one end at about a quarter of the width of room away from one side and from the end wall. Keep the camera parallel with the sides of the room and use the sliding front so as to obtain more of the opposite side of the room. This will give the ceiling a true square appearance and the side of the ceiling will not run off with an unpleasing effect. In some subjects it is perhaps necessary to include one or more windows. This can of course be accomplished by the aid of backed plates, but it is always better to block those particular windows out. This is usually done by covering the outside with black cloth or brown paper or pulling the sun blinds down. To get the effect of the windows you must remove the paper or cloth at the end of the exposure for a few minutes, three minutes being generally sufficient. By this means it is possible to show the landscape as seen from the window. Do not place your camera too high. Four feet to four feet six inches is quite sufficient. If the camera is higher you look over the immediate foreground objects, touching the ground past them, which is undesirable. In arranging the furniture be careful that round or oval objects are not placed so that they appear on the edges of the plate which gives them an exaggerated appearance. In exposing on all such interiors I would strongly recommend a very full exposure, the object being to flatten the subject. A great thing to study in this branch of work is the careful lighting of your subject. This can be largely varied by the use of the inside blinds, also by the sun blinds found outside many windows. It is _not_ advisable to draw the blinds up to their fullest extent. By so doing you accentuate your cast shadows thrown by tables, chairs, etc. In fact, the softer the light in the room coupled with a corresponding exposure, the better the result. Another point to notice is that a comparatively dull day is often the best for interior work, the light being much softer and subdued. As a slight guide to exposure I would suggest that an additional twenty-five per cent. be added to that recommended for church work. _John H. Avery._ _The Hand Camera and its use._ [Illustration] What is the best form of hand camera? How often this question is asked, and yet how impossible to give any definite reply, the conditions of use, and requirements of each worker being so widely different. One, desires a form of apparatus, capable of being closed up into the smallest space, weighing but the least possible number of ounces, the necessary movements, confined to touching a spring, or pressing a button, and the total cost not to exceed two or three pounds, while others do not care so much as to its possessing these qualities, if by a little increase in bulk, weight, and cost, it is capable of use in a less restricted manner, on subjects of wide variety, and under such conditions of light, and atmospheric effects, as, when shutter exposures are being given, call for the _maximum light passage_ to the plate. Assuming the camera to be intended exclusively for use without a tripod, then it becomes not a difficult matter to point out its essential features. First and foremost, it should be characterized by simplicity in construction, and every part be easily accessible, complicated movements being rarely found necessary, except perhaps, to raise the price of the instrument. When being employed in the field, the camera and its working parts ought not to need the slightest consideration, each movement, whether they be few, or many, being made, without requiring troublesome attention at the moment when every thought should be devoted to the subject. The component parts of an instrument, complete and effective for this class of work, may be taken to be a good lens capable of covering at _f_/8, a shutter, some simple means of focussing, adequate finders, and the means of carrying plates either in some form of magazine, or ordinary dark slides. Each system of holder for plates possesses its own distinctive advantages, which are preferable, depending entirely on individual needs, or tastes. Some admire one method, and some the other. When plates are carried in one of the many forms of magazine which cameras are nowadays fitted with, it is _important when re-charging it_, that care be taken to see _each sheath and plate is laid true_ in its place, as the slightest irregularity at this point, means certain trouble when changing a plate after exposure, indeed, perhaps fifty per cent. of the misfortunes which occur when out at work, from failure to act of the changing arrangements, _are directly caused by carelessness when laying the plates in the magazine_. Given reasonable care in this matter, almost any of the modern automatic changing methods, may be relied on to answer satisfactorily. When however the slight additional bulk, weight, and it may be increase of cost is not objected to, then there can be no denying separate dark slides possess many and important advantages. No need to fear a wasted day, caused by some plate sticking, and rendering further work impossible, without having recourse to a dark-room, which probably is miles away; and again, one must not overlook the opportunity they give of carrying plates of different degrees of sensitiveness, a matter of service, when subjects to be dealt with are varied, such as, say, clouds and water, landscapes and figures. In the first case, when light is fairly good, the ordinary speed plate will be found amply quick enough during the daytime, and fifty per cent cheaper in price. When open landscapes are being taken, during summer time, medium rapid plates generally will be quick enough, but many opportunities, for pictorial work, arise under conditions of atmosphere and light, in which to obtain fully exposed negatives with a shutter, demands a plate of extreme sensitiveness, and if for no other reason than that they offer this opportunity of carrying a varied assortment of plates, many workers prefer dark slides, to any form of magazine. There are advantages, and disadvantages, with both systems, and it becomes simply a question for each worker to consider which fulfills his requirements best. _The Lens._--Good work can be, and is done, with cheap single lenses, but the opportunities offered are considerably restricted, what is needed, being such a lens as may be used at full aperture of _f_/8 or _f_/6, and will then cover the plate from corner to corner, sharply. This is necessary not only because the actinic quality of light is not always over good, but that moving subjects demand the shutter should be working with rapidity, sometimes indeed with considerable speed: under which conditions two factors are absolutely essential, a large working lens aperture, and a rapid plate. It is well, therefore, to _buy the best lens you can afford_, it more than pays in every way. For 1/4-plate work, a _rectilinear_ of 5, or 5-1/2 in. focus, working say at _f_/5.6, and with iris diaphragm, by one of the best makers, will allow work being done under any condition of weather, or other circumstances, when shutter work is possible. _Finders._--Years ago, the question of whether finders were necessary, or not, in a camera of this kind, was a matter on which some at least expressed very different opinions, from those now held by most workers. Further experience has shown that when certainty in working is desired, some kind of finder is an absolute necessity as part of the working mechanism. It usually takes the form of a small camera obscura, what is required being, that it should not be too small, should give a perfectly discernible image, and be so adjusted, that only so much of it is shown, as will be projected on to the sensitive plate, when the exposure is made. The reason of its importance is that it _enables the subject being arranged_ tastefully, as well as ensuring that the whole of it is on the plate. Where no attempt at pictorial work is intended, and the important matter is simply that the object being photographed should be in the _centre of the plate_, then it is only necessary that the finder should show as wide an angle of vision, or a little wider than the lens being employed inside the camera. But when something more is aimed at, _viz._: _Tasteful composition over the whole plate_, then it is necessary to block out on the finder all excess of view, beyond what will be received on the sensitive plate. _The Shutter._--What particular form may be best is a matter of doubt, but whatever it be, exposure must be possible without vibration, it should give greater exposure to the foreground than the sky, and ought to allow of being regulated for exposures ranging from 1/4th of a second up to perhaps 1/100th for ordinary work. Where shutter work has to be done, which demands anything less than 1/100th of a second, then special shutters for the purpose are needed, but after having used hand cameras of one form or another for the last nine or ten years on such classes of subjects as are ordinarily dealt with, the occasions on which any greater speed than 1/30th of a second has been called for have been extremely rare. It may be said this would not allow of taking subjects such as a close finish of a cycle race and such like, which is quite true; did occasion arise for so doing, then a shutter such as the focal plane would be employed as a matter of course. But by far the greater amount of work done with hand cameras would be the better for receiving a longer exposure, better because light action on the sensitive plate would be more thorough, and far better because when slowly moving objects, such as waves rolling shoreward, are given 1/10th instead of 1/100th of a second, we get less of "_petrified naturo_," and a more natural appearance in the resulting photographs. As a general rule it is well to give the _slowest exposure possible_. _The Focussing Arrangements._--These need be only very simple, and generally are done by scale to distances. As a rule with the lens working at _f_/11, and the scale set at 15 feet, it will be found that the depth of focus is sufficient for most ordinary work, and any alteration in the focussing seldom necessary, when dealing with subjects where figures are included, that are not required to be approached much closer than the distance mentioned. So far as may be necessary for _hand-camera work_ simply, the instrument should be without complications, is better for having a _good rectilinear lens_, needs a shutter easily adjusted for exposures ranging if possible, from a 1/4th of a second, up to say 1/100th, properly adjusted finders, some means of quickly altering the focus of lens, one or other method of carrying the plates or films, and for _purely hand-camera_ work, there is _no need_ for any other addition to it. Passing away from the camera to its use, one is faced immediately with the fact, that in spite of the multitude of such instruments now in use, the _general average of results_ produced by its means are, in quality, unmistakably below those done with a camera and tripod, nor is the reason for this far to seek. In the latter case, a plate of medium rapidity is generally employed, such an exposure given, as makes no serious _strain_ on the developer used to bring the latent image fully out; the action of light having been ample, and the plate not so easily spoiled, as one of higher sensitiveness, there is not that call for such skilful treatment, as where light action on a highly delicate emulsion, has been but brief, and needs to receive careful handling, before good, well-graded negatives may be produced. To use a hand camera is the simplest matter imaginable, to properly employ it the most difficult--simple, because of the facility with which plates may be exposed, difficult, because to succeed, demands careful practice, and a thorough understanding of photographic manipulation. We must have _learnt to see_, and that quickly, must have gained coolness and self-restraint, and perhaps not the _least qualification necessary is that of being a good photographer_. Whether content to produce good straightforward representations of such scenes as come before you, or more ambitious attempts at pictorial work be made, they can both be done with the hand camera quite as well, nay indeed, given sufficient technical skill, and trained perception to see the beauty presented in line and mass, it is by no means clear this form of implement does not offer greater facilities for successful working, than the more complicated form used with a tripod. [Illustration: BIRCH AND BRACKEN. W. THOMAS.] The choice of subject is only bounded by the limits of exposure, speed of plate and actinic action of light available. The first has already been touched upon, when the lens, and shutter, were dealt with. Plates have recently been so increased in speed, that it becomes necessary to somewhat modify advice, which a year or two ago, might have been perfectly correct, _viz._, to work with the fastest plate procurable. But there is this advantage now, as then, that if some convenient form of actinometer be used to test the light, we are able to judge at once, what speed of plate will be necessary to deal with each subject as it arises. There are several forms available, amongst which, the one introduced by Watkins, made so that it becomes a permanent part of the camera, answers remarkably well, especially as it cannot be left at home, without being noticed. In developing shutter-exposed plates, if full exposure has been obtained, then the ordinary modes of procedure suffice, so also when over-exposure occurs, but by far the greater proportion of failures one sees in this class of work, arise simply _from under-exposure_. There seems so much charm in driving a shutter at its highest speed, and at the same time using the lens stopped down, to secure sharp definition, the wonder is, not that failures flourish, but that any good work is done at all. With regard to particular developers there is only this to be said. Whatever agent be employed, so arrange that before density is obtained, _all the detail you require_ is first brought out; this simply means, if pyro is being used, it is kept low, until the plate is ready to be treated for density, then a further addition of pyro and bromide will generally suffice to rapidly finish off the work. When a batch of exposed plates is being dealt with, a most certain method of negative making, will be found in employing in one dish, either one or other of the following one-solution developers:-- NO. 1 FORMULA. Amidol 20 grains Sodium sulphite 1/2 oz. Water 7 " NO. 2 FORMULA. Dissolve in water 20 oz. Metol 75 grains then add Sodium sulphite 1-3/4 oz. Carbonate of soda (crystals) 1-3/4 " Bromide of potassium 6 grains NO. 3 FORMULA. Sodium sulphite 1-1/4 oz. Carbonate of potassium 1/2 " Eikonogen 1/4 " Boiling water 12 " Any of the above developers will be found to rapidly bring out all there is in the plate, and if over-exposure is feared, they may all with advantage be diluted, with an equal quantity of water, in order to slow down their action. In another dish, it is advisable to have the following _re-developer_, to impart density to the plates, as they become ready for that operation, or to successfully deal with any, which are found to have been considerably over-exposed, and upon which, the first developer is acting too vigorously. RE-DEVELOPER. NO. 1. Hydroquinone 1/4 ounce Sodium sulphite 2 " Potassium bromide 1/4 " Boiling water 12 " NO. 2. Washing soda 2 ounces Sodium sulphite 2 " Water to make 12 " For use mix equal quantities. By employing two different developers in the manner suggested, it becomes a simple matter to produce good negatives, from plates having had all kinds of exposures, some under, some over, and it may be some which have had about the right exposure; in this way one of the most fruitful causes of failure in the production of hand-camera pictures, _error in exposure and development_, is minimized, if not altogether done away with. There are sometimes occasions when out with a hand camera, when subjects present themselves, offering exceedingly good opportunities for securing pleasing little pictures, but which require one, or two seconds' exposure, to render them successfully. At such times it may generally be arranged to rest the camera on a stone, wall, or gate, or to hold it pressed against a tree, or some other rigid support. As an example, the illustration of a woodside with birch trees, facing page 136, may be pointed to. In this instance, when out cycling, the place and lighting on the tree trunks, struck us as pleasing, and worth trying to secure a record of, even though but a hand camera was being carried at the time. Having dismounted, and found a point from where it might be attempted, and where conveniently grew a single tree, the lens was opened to (if recollection does not deceive) _f_/11. Then the camera jammed close to the tree trunk, and two seconds' exposure given, taking especial care that no movement took place. The plate being in due time carefully developed, and as far as possible contrasts kept down, the result proved satisfactory enough. It could more conveniently have been photographed, of course, if a camera and tripod had been available, but it is one of many such instances, where, when shutter exposures only had been prepared for, occasions arose, demanding longer exposures than were possible, unless, some such temporary support be pressed into use, as in this instance. For successful work, see that the camera is simple, its parts, of the best your pocket can afford. Give the slowest exposures your subject will allow. Develop for softly modelled negatives first, getting what density is required afterwards. See that the camera is held perfectly steady, during exposure, and don't forget it is simply a camera, and lens, and will require _you behind it_, just the same as any other employed with a tripod, and in conclusion bear always in mind, _it is the simplest form of camera work and the most difficult_, making the utmost demands on your skill, if high-class results are to be the outcome of its use. _W. Thomas._ _Lantern Slides._ [Illustration] A lantern Slide is a transparent positive on glass or other transparent support, usually 3-1/4 inches square, and is placed in the lantern in such a way that by suitable illumination and optical arrangements the image on the slide is made to intercept some of the light given off by the illuminant from a screen, which without the screen would be wholly and evenly illuminated by the light. In viewing a paper print we are really observing the paper by reflected light, part of our view being intercepted by the image formed of pigment or reduced metal; the amount of light not being very great a very thin layer of pigment is required to produce the appearance of a sufficiently robust image. If the image alone or with its vehicle be stripped from a good print on paper this image viewed by transmitted light will be found to be extremely faint, far too faint to be of any use as a "transparency," and also too thin to be of any use as a lantern slide. On the other hand, what we know as a "transparency," such as is often used for window decoration, backed, perhaps, with ground glass, would be found much too dense or robust for use as a lantern slide. In density, then, a "slide," as it shall hereafter be called, comes between the image on a paper print and that on a "transparency." In "gradation," or gamut of tones, the slide ought to be superior to either the paper print with its almost absolute clearness over large areas, or the transparency with its dense shadows and its comparatively heavy lights. In fact, in a good slide we have every grade of deposit from perfect transparency to nearly complete opacity. But the extremes must be very sparingly present, and the transition from one tone to another must be gradual, all intermediate notes between highest and lowest should be represented. Other qualities go to make the perfect slide; the metallic or other deposit forming the image must be in the utmost degree fine, no approach to "grain" must be perceptible even under the highest magnification. The colour, or "tone," must be not only pleasant but appropriate. The loss of light in its journey from the illuminant to our eyes is enormous; the disc on the screen is simply a greatly magnified image of the light, and here is great loss; add to this the interception of some light by the opacity of the slide, and the fact that much more is lost in reflection from the screen, and absorption by the screen, and it is easy to realize that the image from the screen reaching our eyes is vastly less bright than that reaching the eye when, for instance, we examine a slide in the hand by transmitted light. And loss of light means increase of contrast, so that a slide which would seem about right in gradation in the hand would be altogether soot-and-chalk as a screen-image. So too if we have in the slide already shut out much light, by making the slide foggy, or over dense, it is easy to see that when the image reaches our eyes from the screen this vicious opacity will be immensely increased in its mischievous properties. The first style of slide gives screen-images sometimes called "midsummer snow-scenes"; the other slide is simply called "foggy." Both must be assiduously avoided. It need hardly be said that the plates prepared by some processes are more likely to yield good slides, such as are described above, than plates prepared by other processes; no one process can claim to possess in itself superiority in all respects. Collodion, for instance, is less apt to give foggy slides, and it is easier to intensify than gelatine, but it is also more prone to give "hard" images. Collodion is at its finest in the form of collodio-bromide emulsion, which gives slides remarkable for fineness of grain, for clearness, and for richness of tones; but when we have to copy in the camera, the operation with collodion emulsion is protracted, unless we have bright daylight or a condensing arrangement, which with large negatives is often out of the question. On the whole it may be taken that gelatine-bromide emulsion is the process to be recommended, not only on account of its convenience and celerity, but in view of the many inherent points of excellence that it possesses. In any case, want of space will cause us to confine attention here to that process, and any one mastering the use of gelatine-bromide slide-plates will have nothing to fear from competition with other processes in all-round work. The writer has a leaning towards slide-plates as slow as he can procure them, because slowness almost always goes hand in hand with fineness of grain and freedom from fog. There is one point of importance that should be noted in working with gelatine for this purpose. Distilled water should be used if possible for all solutions. Tap water--especially hard water--is apt to produce with the gelatine a certain amount of scum which, if present in any appreciable degree, cannot fail to affect the quality of the slides; but treatment with an acid alum bath as described later has a very salutary effect in removing any scum that may have formed during the "liquid" operations. In the mechanics of making a slide from a negative we have only two methods to consider. If the slide-image is to be the same size as the negative, or a part of the negative, we print by _contact_, that is, we put the negative and the slide-plate face to face in contact, and we expose to light, the negative being next to the light; this corresponds with making a print on paper. But when we desire to make a slide including all the subject of a negative larger than a slide-plate, or, in fact, when we desire to alter the size of the image at all, we copy the negative "in the camera." The simplest method of doing this is to fix up the negative so that it is evenly lighted and make a photograph of it in a camera; but the adjustments necessary for such an operation would be found awkward, and so a "reducing camera" of some kind is generally used. Many such cameras are on the market, and consist of devices for holding the negative in a suitable position with regard to a small camera furnished with a lens and a dark slide holding a lantern plate. Either the negative-holder or the camera should have possible movement in all directions vertical to the optical axis of the whole, and in addition it is often desirable to have a certain amount of movement in other planes, in order to correct certain optical defects that are sometimes found in negatives. The writer has for many years used a small camera with its front stuck into the front of a large camera, one or other of these cameras has every necessary movement. The device is figured here. [Illustration] Whatever arrangement is used the end of the apparatus bearing the negative is directed towards a good and even light; and it is well to place about two inches in front of the negative towards the light a piece of finely ground glass for ordinary negatives; this glass is with advantage omitted with extra dense negatives. It goes without saying that the exposure, whether we are working by contact or in the camera is of the utmost importance; but it is not possible in an article such as this to give even an approximate idea of the exposure suitable under any concatenation of conditions. The best clue to exposure is to be found in development, and in results. It is necessary to know what happens after normal exposure with a given developer, and then if any variation is noticed to alter the exposure. If a plate develops more rapidly than the normal, it may fairly be deduced that the exposure has been too long; but if we are dealing with a specially contrasted negative it is better so. On the other hand, when we are dealing with a thin negative, especially if the scale of gradation is short, we require an exposure less than what would under normal conditions lead to complete development in the normal time. And again some plates require to be developed to a greater point of apparent density than others; this is a matter of experience. Briefly put, there is no royal road to good slide-making, experience is necessary. In actually making the exposures certain points must be kept in mind. If we are copying in the camera with daylight as illuminant it is very important to use the light from the north; if we use other light we shall be much put out on most occasions by awkward variations of the brightness. A very large number of operations are rendered nugatory by carelessness in this matter. Even the most experienced worker will find it impossible to expose plates with anything like accuracy when he has to deal with direct sunshine at one time, thin white clouds at another, and dark clouds at a third. And in making exposures by contact the beginner must be fairly accurate in judging the time of exposure and the distance from the radiant. A good plan is to tie to the gas jet a piece of cord having knots at convenient intervals, such as at 9, 12, 18 and 24 inches, and in making an exposure to use these knots as guides to the distance; moreover, the law of "squares of distance" must be remembered; the intensity of light varies inversely as the square of distance from radiant to receiver, provided, of course, no optical arrangement is introduced to modify the path of the rays. Consequently, for example, if ten seconds is found to be a proper exposure at nine inches from the light, the corresponding exposure at eighteen inches will not be twenty, but forty seconds (9^2=81. 18^2=324). And as it is sometimes awkward to hold the frame and attend to a watch at the same time, a metronome, ticking seconds, will be found convenient, or a clock with a second hand may be placed where it can be seen during the exposure. A landscape slide without clouds, if the horizon is in the picture, is usually considered a failure, and has been dubbed "bald-headed." Really good workers often put clouds into slides by "combination printing," which in some cases is comparatively easy, in others very difficult. If we are working by reduction from a good-sized negative, with a fairly even horizon, the difficulty is not great. The landscape part of the negative is first exposed, the sky being masked if necessary, and a cloud negative is then substituted for the landscape negative, a part of the former being masked to correspond with the landscape on the latter, and a second exposure is made on the same slide-plate. Admittedly in all cases this requires "some doing," in many cases it is extremely difficult. An easier, if less "sportsmanlike," method is to make the cloud slide on a separate slide-plate, and to use the latter as a "cover-glass" for the slide. The cloud may cover the whole of the second slide, and that part of it not required may be wiped out by means of a reducing solution, used with a brush, such as the ferricyanide and hypo one described later. This method will be found useful even in contact slide making, but it also requires not only good taste in the selection of the cloud, but some deftness in manipulation; but the neat-handed beginner need not fear to make the attempt. DEVELOPMENT. It has already been stated that judgment of exposure is a matter of experience, and that results are the best criterion; here follow some more explicit statements on the same matter. Whatever plate or developer is used, and whatever the time occupied in complete development: _1st._--If by the time the high-lights are sufficiently strong the shadows are too dense or blocked, the plate has been under-exposed. _2nd._--If by the time the high-lights are sufficiently strong the shadows have not attained sufficient density, or are veiled, the plate has been over-exposed. _3rd._--If at the same moment the high-lights show sufficiently and the shadows are transparent but sufficiently plucky, the plate has been properly exposed. _4th._--With a normal negative the normal exposure is the proper exposure; but (_a_) a negative abnormally strong in contrasts will require an abnormally long exposure; and (_b_) a thin negative, or one with a very short scale of gradation from densest to clearest, will require an abnormally short exposure, with probably some after-treatment in the direction of "intensification." Ambitious slide-makers generally aim at warm-toned slides for pictorial effect, and rightly. But slides intended for scientific purposes are generally better when cold in tone, the definition is usually better. But whatever the aim, a good tone of one kind is preferable to a poor one of another kind, and the beginner should first make sure of getting a really good cold tone, which is comparatively easy, and then try his "'prentice hand" on warm tones. Warm tones are obtained by using greatly super-normal exposures and greatly restrained developers; and the danger probably lies in the fact that the long exposures are apt to lead to fog, and the great restraint to over-density in the shadows, the latter especially when the exposure has not been quite long enough for the developer used; herein probably lies the whole secret of warm slide-making. If we aim at really warm tones and use developers suited to such design, we must on no account stint the exposure. COLD TONE DEVELOPING SOLUTIONS. [Illustration] The classical solution for cold tone slides is a solution of ferrous oxalate in potassic oxalate. Of all developers it is most free from fogging propensities. It is made from so-called "saturated solutions" of proto-sulphate of iron and potassium oxalate. Thus, into a bottle put a quantity of iron proto-sulphate, and pour on about three times its weight of water containing a dram of sulphuric acid to each pint. Shake well, and keep always at about 60° Fahr.; some of the iron must always be visible in the bottle, if not, more is to be added. The crystals of iron salt must be green and not rusty in colour. This is the "iron solution." The "oxalate solution" is made by dissolving potassium oxalate in about three times its weight of water. This also must be kept at 60° Fahr., shaken occasionally, and oxalate added if none is visible in the bottle. To make the ferrous oxalate solution we _pour_ one part of the iron solution _into_ six parts of the oxalate, and it is advisable to add to each ounce of developer at least half a grain of potassium bromide; 5 minims of a 10% solution, made by dissolving one ounce of the bromide in about 9 ounces of water, and then making up to 10 ounces--all chemical. In about four minutes or less this ought to fully develop a properly exposed plate. If the development is much shorter the slide is apt to have an unpleasant greenish tone, a result that may also follow the use of an inordinate amount of bromide in the developer. The developing solution may be made in quantity greater than is required for one plate, and may be used several times if a little of the surplus and fresh solution is added when the quantity in use becomes slow in action. For really fine cold black tones the following formula by MESSRS. ELLIOTT & SON will be found admirable:-- A Metol 40 grains. Soda sulphite 1 ounce. Water 8 ounces. B Potassium carbonate 120 grains. Ammonium bromide 24 " Potassium bromide 48 " Water 8 ounces. The developing solution consists of equal parts of A and B. If either of the above developers is to be used, the exposure is to be kept down as compared with the exposure to be followed by developers intended for very warm tones. The two developers which follow next, require about the same exposure as the two already formulated. "Ortol" is a reducing agent quite lately introduced by Mr. Hauff, of Feuerbach in Germany, and Mr. Hauff's agents in this country are Messrs. Fuerst Bros., of London. "Ortol" gives the finest tones of the warm black type that we have as yet come across, it is singularly free from fogging propensity, and the tones do not easily degenerate into the greens so apt to occur after severe over-exposure with other "black" developers. We suggest a simple formula:-- A Water 20 ounces. Metabisulphite of potassium 75 grains. Ortol 150 grains. B Water 20 ounces. Soda carbonate 3-1/2 ounces. Soda sulphite 2-1/2 ounces. To make the developer, take one part of A, one of B, and one of water, and to each ounce of the mixture add one and a half or two grains of potassium bromide. The development of a properly exposed slide will take two or three minutes, and the result will probably be highly appreciated. The above is worthy to stand alone as representing developers for warm black tones, but the following works well. (Messrs. Elliott & Son.) A Hydroquinone 80 grains. Soda sulphite 1 ounce. Potassium bromide 15 grains. Water 10 ounces. B Caustic soda 80 grains. Water 10 ozs. The developing solution consists of equal parts of A and B, and the plate may be fully developed in about two to three minutes. It has already been stated that in order to obtain really warm red or reddish tones by development, it is necessary to give very long exposure, and to use a developer very much restrained. It is further found that carbonate of ammonia has a considerable effect in reddening the developed image, and so we now come to procedure based on these lines. Carbonate of ammonia is found in commerce in the shape of "chunks" more or less square. If one of these is pared with a knife--unless the sample is quite fresh--the outside will be found to be a soft amorphous powder, the inside a clear, very hard crystal; the clear crystal is in development an "accelerator," though a very weak one, the outside substance is a restrainer. Probably both the inside--sesquicarbonate--and the outside--bicarbonate--are useful, and the best plan is to make a ten per cent. solution of the substance as obtained from a good chemist--not druggist. Of this solution one grain of the salt is represented by ten minims. If now we take an ounce of A, and one of B of the last formula, and if we add to the ounce of A 3 grains of ammonium bromide, and to the ounce of B 3 grains of ammonium carbonate, and if we have given a proper exposure and develop with equal parts of the A and B modified as above, we shall get a slide of rich chocolate colour; and if we double the proportions of carbonate and bromide, and expose still longer, we shall get a slide still ruddier in tone, even to red. But there is always danger of fog, and of clogged shadows, and this must be reckoned with. There is a more certain and less dangerous way of getting handsome tones, which shall be described presently. Gelatine slides are always fixed in hyposulphite of soda, about one part by weight to six parts of water; after this they must be well washed, say five minutes under a good rose tap, or in many changes of water in a dish for an hour, and every slide should be treated with a saturated solution of potash alum, of which each pint should contain a dram of hydrochloric acid. Very many, if not most, slides are all the better for just a touch of a "reducer" such as follows:--The ordinary "hypo." solution is weakened with about four times its measure of water, and the plate is soaked for a minute in this. A few drops of a ten per cent. solution of potassium ferricyanide are put into the measure, and the hypo. mixed with it, and the whole allowed to work on the plate for a short time, carefully watched. Of course a weak slide must not be thus treated, but it is often a good plan to develop slides to such a point that they will permit of this treatment. On the other hand it is often advisable to keep a slide thin in development, for instance, when the negative wants pluck, and intensification is indicated; or when we wish a good warm tone after a "black" developer such as our metol formula: a good average treatment is as follows:-- Take half an ounce each of ammonium chloride and mercury bichloride and dissolve in 16 ounces of water, soak the slide in this till it is bleached. Wash well and treat with weak liquid ammonia, or a solution of soda sulphite, or of metabisulphite of potash, or fresh lime water. This will strengthen the slide and give it in most cases a fine rich colour. It is important to let these solutions act thoroughly, and not to stop the action half-way. The writer considers this the best and safest way to obtain warm tones, the reader may find out for himself which of these solutions produces the tones he chiefly affects. Crystal varnish is _not_ wasted even on a gelatine slide. In conclusion, it must be realized that the screen-image is a greatly enlarged edition of the slide-image; any small defect on the slide is a huge one on the screen. Consequently the slide-maker must sedulously cultivate cleanliness and manipulative care. _Andrew Pringle._ [Illustration: Fishing Smacks. W. Thomas. ] _How to make Enlargements._ [Illustration] Enlargements may be made by daylight, or by artificial light, and there are two methods of producing them, namely, by enlarging direct from the negative on to a sheet of bromide paper; or by first making a small transparency, and from that producing an enlarged negative upon a slow dry plate. The first is the method usually adopted by amateurs, probably because the necessary operations are fewer, and perhaps more simple. The second plan, however, possesses the advantage that the prints may be made by any process, be it carbon, platinum, or silver, and thus a great variety of effect obtained. The first point however that the reader must decide is whether he will work by artificial light or by daylight. Each may be said to possess certain advantages, and with many the question resolves itself into one of personal convenience. Artificial light is, or should be, fairly constant in intensity, and if adopted there will probably be less waste of material through miscalculation of exposure. But if the source of light employed be other than a mixed jet, or the arc-light, if in fact it be of low intensity, negatives of a somewhat delicate type will be required in order to produce enlargements of the highest excellence. If the negatives are dense and strong, illuminants of low intensity, like oil or gas, do not possess sufficient penetration to duly register the denser portions of the negative, and the enlargements so made are apt to be deficient in half-tone, and hard. With well-graded negatives of suitable quality, however, most excellent enlargements may be produced by artificial light. When artificial light is used work may be carried on at any time of day or night, in winter or summer. Those who adopt the daylight plan will, of course, be subjected to greater restrictions, at any rate, during the winter months, but amateurs who take a real interest in the work will do well to adopt the writer's plan, and provide themselves with apparatus for each method of working. ENLARGING BY DAYLIGHT. There are two ways of enlarging by daylight. The first involves the exclusion of all actinic light from a room except that which passes through the negative. The alternative method of working is to employ an ordinary enlarging camera, such as are made by Middlemiss, or Lancaster. It is desirable, but not necessary, if the first plan be adopted, to secure the exclusive use of a room. One with a northerly aspect should be chosen, for if sunlight falls upon the window shadows will at some period of the day fall upon the negative, and produce unevenly lighted enlargements. An upper room will be most suitable, and, if the light be a northern one, and there are no trees or buildings to obstruct the view, a reflector may be dispensed with. If external objects intervene, however, one must be employed. It should be fixed outside the window-sill, at an angle of 45°, and should be capable of adjustment. Let it be _the full width of the window_, and _securely fixed_ for obvious reasons. A plate-glass mirror is effective, but expensive. A large drawing board painted dead white also answers well, but should not be left outside exposed to the weather. [Illustration: Fig. 1.] [Illustration: side view ditto] Provision for excluding the light from the room is best secured by making a wooden frame large enough to fit closely against the window frame. Upon this a piece of stout calico should be tightly strained and secured with tacks. It should then be sized, and when dry will be as tight as a drum; it must then be covered with two thicknesses of stout brown paper pasted on. The frame is shown complete in Fig. 1. Now at AA. BB. screw two strips of wood, the distance apart must be regulated by the size of the negatives to be enlarged. The ordinary camera is intended to be used as the enlarging camera, and the distance from C. to C. should be just equal to the size of the back portion of the camera. On the lower rail BB screw a piece of 9 in. board to form a shelf or support D. for the enlarging camera. Make a frame E. of 1/2 in. wood 1 in. deep, the same size as the back of the camera, and screw to the shelf and top rail AA. Now carefully cut away the brown paper and calico from the inside of this frame, at the part marked H. and paste strips of brown paper round it so as to prevent any light passing except through the opening H. A strip of felt should be tacked all round the large frame to prevent any light from creeping in between it and the window frame. A couple of turn buttons will keep it in position. A _firm_ table should be placed against the window close up to the wall to form a support for the enlarging easel. Now a little care must be taken in fitting up this portion of the apparatus, and it is better to have something more exact than the propped-up drawing board or printing frame, which is sometimes recommended. Get a carpenter to run out two V shaped rails as shown in Fig. 2 at CC. They should be about the length of the table, and screwed down upon it. Procure a cheap drawing board about 15 x 12, and to the under side affix two pieces of wood with V shaped grooves corresponding in angle to the rails. This forms the base of the easel AA. Make a frame 22 x 20, or rather larger than the biggest enlargement that it is desired to produce. It should be constructed of 1/2 in. wood, and be 2 in. deep. It is shown in Fig. 2 at 1 DDDD. Now make, or get made, a set of carriers EE, the largest of which should just fit into the frame. Narrow fillets of wood screwed each side will afford a rise and fall adjustment, and a thumb screw at G will fix the carrier in any desired position. To obtain the cross-movement screw the frame DDDD to a piece of inch board 5 in. wide HH. Place this exactly in the centre of the base board, and screw fillets II of 1 in. wood to each side. This will afford a cross motion, and a thumb screw at J will fix the carrier frame when the necessary adjustment has been made. [Illustration: Fig. 2.] In setting up an enlarging apparatus, whether it be for day or artificial light, it is absolutely essential to preserve the parallelism of its various parts, otherwise it will be impossible to produce sharp or evenly defined enlargements, and for this reason I have described somewhat fully the construction of a suitable easel. I may add that it will serve equally well for either daylight or artificial illumination, and I strongly advise the reader to construct, or have constructed, an easel on the lines I have laid down. With it either direct enlargements on paper can be produced, or plates may be used and enlarged negatives made. The easiest way of holding the paper during exposure is to procure two sheets of clear glass, patent plate is most suitable, sandwich the bromide paper between them, and secure with two strong bands of elastic. The complete apparatus in position for working is shown at Fig. 3. [Illustration: Fig. 3.] [Illustration: Fig. 4.] The second method of enlarging by daylight is by employing an ordinary enlarging camera. The same conditions as to lighting, etc., should be sought for, and the most convenient way of working will be to tilt the camera at such an angle as that the negative receives unobstructed illumination from the sky. A reflector in this case will not be necessary, but a piece of very finely ground glass should be placed about an inch in front of the negative in order to soften and diffuse the light. This method of working is shown in Fig. 4. ENLARGING BY ARTIFICIAL LIGHT. Before describing the actual process of making an enlargement it will be well to deal with the alternative method of working, namely, by artificial light, as the manipulations of the sensitive material used are the same in either case. Practically the most satisfactory way of working by the latter method is to use an enlarging lantern properly fitted with a condenser. The general principles of such an apparatus are identical with those which obtain in an ordinary optical lantern. Methods which dispense with the use of a condenser are more or less unsatisfactory, and should be avoided. In the space at the disposal of the writer it is not possible to give directions for the construction of an enlarging lantern, but those who may desire to make their own, will find full instructions and working drawings in "[6]Practical Enlarging." [6] A Iliffe & Son. [Illustration: Fig. 5.] Enlarging lanterns of excellent quality are obtainable commercially, but for the guidance of the uninitiated it may be useful to refer a little in detail to one or two important points with regard to their construction. The condenser will first claim attention. The ordinary pattern consists of two plano-convex lenses mounted as shown in section at Fig. 5. This answers fairly well with the smaller sizes, but when the diameter of the condenser is large, a good deal of light may be lost. The interposition of a small meniscus or plano-convex lens, in the manner first suggested by the late J. Traill Taylor, and shown in Fig. 6, will be found a great improvement. Its proper position will be at the point where the divergent cone of rays proceeding from it just covers the large condenser. In our own practice we always place a diffusing screen of very finely-ground glass in front of the condenser at EE The diameter of the condenser is governed by the size of the negatives to be enlarged, it must be of sufficient size to include the longer sides of the plate within its circumference without cutting the corners. If it is much larger than this, an unnecessary loss of light will occur, because only that which passes through the negative can be utilized. [Illustration: Fig. 6.] THE ILLUMINANT. The smaller and more intense the light, the nearer we approach to the ideal projection illuminant, and the better will be the definition of our enlargements. The arc light most nearly fulfils the desired conditions, and if it be available it should certainly be employed. Next in point of utility comes the limelight, preferably in the form of the mixed jet, and those who understand its manipulation are recommended to adopt it, but the majority of amateurs will probably find it more convenient to use either incandescent gaslight or an oil-lamp. Parallel wick-lamps should be avoided on account of the unequal illumination they produce, and if oil must be used a good circular wick burner will be found more suitable. Where house-gas is available the incandescent gaslight is however much to be preferred. The light is perhaps not so powerful as that given by a really good parallel wick-lamp, but it is far more actinic and penetrating. The writer has used this light with great satisfaction, and therefore has no hesitation in recommending it. Some workers have been troubled by the appearance of an image of the mantle on the screen, but this can usually be got rid of by a suitable adjustment of the lenses and the light, and in any case by the interposition of a piece of ground glass between condenser and negative. THE CHOICE OF THE LENS. It is commonly stated that the lens with which the original negative was taken will serve equally well to enlarge it, and in the abstract the statement is perhaps not inaccurate. But assuming that a lens of a focus equal to about 1-1/4 times the base of the plate has been used, it will be found that better results, both in regard to definition and equality of illumination, will be obtained by substituting a lens of rather longer focus, for example a half-plate lens for enlarging from quarter-plate negatives. This, although applying to both methods of working is particularly desirable when enlarging by artificial light, for an objective of small diameter and short focus cannot possibly pick up or receive the whole of the cone of rays proceeding from the condenser. A reference to Figs. 7 and 8 will explain why this is so. In Fig. 7 we see what happens when a lens of too short a focus is used, but when one of longer focus is substituted, the whole of the cone of rays passes through and is utilized (Fig. 8). In selecting a lens one should be chosen which has a sufficiently large diameter to permit the apex of the cone of rays from the condenser to pass through. This point will, of course, vary with the degree of amplification, and in order to obtain the best results optically, the distance of the light from the condenser must be carefully adjusted in every case, and a clear, evenly lighted disc obtained before inserting the negative to be enlarged. [Illustration: Fig. 7.] [Illustration: Fig. 8.] With regard to the type of lens, one of the rapid rectilinear form will answer well. A portrait lens is often used on account of the brilliancy of image, but although it answers well for enlarging portraits, the roundness of its field makes it less suitable for landscapes unless it is considerably stopped down. If the very finest results as regards definition are required, then one of the now numerous flat-field lenses should be used. The writer can from practical experience speak well of the Ross-Goerz and the Cooke lens. The latter is perhaps preferable for working with artificial light on account of the larger diameter of the back lens. Wide-angle lenses, on account of their small aperture and short focus, are not suitable for use with a condenser, both for the reasons given, and on account of the difficulty in focussing owing to the small amount of light transmitted. When daylight is used, however, there is less objection to their employment. [Illustration: Fig. 9.] Before leaving this part of the subject it should be noted that in regard to preserving the parallelism of its parts the same care in erecting and fitting up the enlarging lantern must be observed, as was insisted upon in the description of the apparatus for daylight. It will be found convenient, therefore, to mount the lantern on a base similar to that upon which the easel rests, so that both may move on the same rails. The easel described for daylight enlarging will serve equally well for working by artificial light. The complete apparatus is shown at Fig. 9, which is a reproduction from a photograph of the apparatus constructed and used by the writer. THE NEGATIVE. In general practice one may find it necessary at times to enlarge from negatives of very dissimilar types, but there is no reason, when the negatives are to be produced with the special object of subsequently making enlargements from them, why care should not be taken to make them of a suitable character. Thin delicate negatives should be enlarged by artificial light; dense, strong ones by daylight. If the negatives are very strong it will be difficult to produce soft and well-graded enlargements with a weak illuminant, the light not being sufficiently intense to properly penetrate the high-lights. A soft and clear negative, with good gradation, fully exposed, and neither exhibiting patches of clear glass shadow devoid of detail, nor of hard impenetrable high-light, will be found most suitable. Fog should be avoided, as also should the yellow stain produced by pyro when improperly used. Not that the pyro developer is unsuitable, for if sufficient sulphite is used, and the quantity of pyro kept down, negatives of very beautiful quality for enlarging purposes may be produced. Great care should be taken to avoid bubbles, stains, scratches, or any kind of mechanical defects, as such when enlarged become painfully obtrusive, and spoil the effect of the best work. It will be found a good plan to bind the edge of the negative before enlarging it with a strip of lantern slide binding, so as to cover the clear glass rebate mark. If this be omitted the margins of the enlargement may become fogged by the lateral spreading action of the light. No hand-work should be attempted on the original negative, for any such treatment will become painfully apparent in the enlargement. If retouching be deemed necessary, it should in the case of a direct enlargement be executed upon the print itself, or upon the enlarged negative or preferably upon the enlarged transparency, when that method of reproduction has been adopted. DIRECT ENLARGEMENTS. The following concise instructions for enlarging upon bromide paper will apply equally to the daylight or artificial light methods of working. In the first case the negative is placed in the dark slide of the camera, both shutters being drawn fully out. The camera is then put upon the shelf close up against the opening in the shutter, as shown in Fig. 3, any light creeping in between shutter and camera being blocked out with the focussing cloth. If the enlarging lantern is used the negative will be placed in the carrier, just in the same way as a lantern slide, with the film side towards the enlarging lens. Now the first difficulty that will be experienced will be to get the enlarged image of the required size. It will be well to content ourselves at the outset with a moderate degree of enlargement, say from 1/4 plate to 12 × 10, and when proficiency is acquired, larger sizes can be attempted. At first we shall probably not succeed in getting any image at all. In adjusting the various parts of the apparatus we shall find the work easier if we remember that the nearer we place the lens to the negative the further will it be necessary to move the easel from the lens, and the greater will be the enlargement. A useful table of enlargements will be found in the "British Journal Almanac," showing the distance of lens from negative, and negative from paper, for almost any required degree of amplification. Now it will be found much easier to focus the enlarged image by looking at it through a piece of finely ground glass, than by receiving it on a piece of card or paper, and the adoption of the easel plan of focussing previously described will enable this to be done. The ground surface of the glass (which must be of the same thickness as the piece behind which the paper is to be exposed) should be away from the lens and towards the person focussing, when it is placed in the carrier of the easel, it being retained in position with the spring S., Fig. 2. Focussing must be carefully performed, and is effected by sliding the easel to and fro upon the runners, and which should have been previously rubbed with blacklead. Bromide paper is made in several varieties, such as smooth, rough, snow-enamel, cream crayon, etc., and is put up either in tubes, or packed flat. The latter is decidedly the more convenient, it being somewhat difficult to take the curl out of paper that has been rolled. The choice of paper is a matter of taste; for landscape work the rough paper or the cream crayon will perhaps be found most suitable. For finer work, and some classes of portraiture the enamel will prove effective. Rough paper is better for strong broad effects, smooth for more delicate work and the rendering of fine detail. The coated side may be distinguished by its tendency to curl inwards. The easiest way of exposing it is to procure two pieces of patent plate glass of the same thickness as the focussing glass, sandwich the sheet of paper between the two, and secure with strong elastic bands. This will hold it quite flat during exposure, and will not disturb the actinism of the lens or impair the definition of the enlargement. DEVELOPMENT. This part of the work of producing an enlargement will only be lightly dealt with, as the subject is fully treated elsewhere in this volume. The writer prefers the ferrous-oxalate developer for bromide enlargements to any of the more recently introduced developers, but as it requires more skill and judgment to employ it with complete success, beginners may find it better to use amidol or metol, either of which when properly used gives excellent results. Hydrokinone we do not recommend for this purpose owing to its tendency to give rusty blacks in the event of over-exposure, or undue hardness if it has been too short. With amidol a pure delicate black is easily obtainable, and it is moreover a very simple developer to use. Our own plan is to employ a weak solution and give a full exposure, and by these means we find no difficulty in obtaining good gradation and pure blacks. The dish used for development must not be used for other developers or stains will probably occur. Although a quick appearance of the image is usually a characteristic of amidol, no trouble will be experienced when the developer is used in the way we advise, for the picture will be found to develop slowly and regularly, and gradually grow in strength. Quick development by this method would be an indication of over-exposure. A correctly exposed enlargement should take about ten minutes to develop. One stock solution only is necessary. It will keep indefinitely. Sulphite of soda 1 ounce. Citric acid 20 grains. Distilled water 40 ounces. Potassium bromide 15 grains. To each ounce of the above add, just before using, three grains of dry amidol. The exposure must be accurately timed. It is, however, impossible to give useful information on this head, unless such varying factors as the rapidity of the paper, the intensity of the light, the aperture of the lens, and the degree of enlargement are known. The best plan is to cut one of the sheets of bromide paper into twelve strips, and on these make several test exposures, carefully noting the duration of each. It is better (at any rate for a beginner) not to vary the constituents or strength of the developer, but to increase or diminish the exposure until a good result in colour and tonality is obtained. By entering full details relating to the production of a successful enlargement in a notebook, great exactitude in working will be obtained, and there need be little or no waste of material when additional enlargements have to be made from the same negatives at a future time. [Illustration: DRIFTING STORM CLOUDS. W. THOMAS.] A glass dish, though expensive, is very suitable for developing, for being flat-bottomed a minimum of solution can be used, and moreover if the dish should be dirty, the fact is at once apparent. The exposed paper should be soaked in water for a few minutes until uniformly wetted, and any air-bells removed with a camel-hair brush. The water is then poured off, and the developer applied in an even wave, so that the whole of the paper is covered uniformly and quickly. The image will appear slowly, and gradually gain in detail. When all the detail has appeared it may still appear lacking in vigour and contrast, but this will come if sufficient time be allowed. _Development should not be stopped until the print is of the full strength required_, but it is not advisable to allow it to become much darker than it is desired to appear when finished, because there is very little loss of strength in the fixing bath. If the image flashes out immediately upon the application of the developer, the paper has been over-exposed. A strong dose (one or two drams) of ten per cent. bromide added to the developer may help to save it, but the enlargement will probably look poor and flat and of bad colour when finished. If the picture appears very slowly, and refuses to gain in strength, under-exposure is the cause, and two or three drams of a ten per cent. solution of sulphite of soda may improve matters, but as a rule the most satisfactory plan will be to make another exposure. With regard to the strength of the developer, that given is very suitable for negatives of normal density, but some papers may require a little more amidol, the appearance of the finished enlargements will guide the reader in regulating the quantity to suit the particular paper with which he may be working. The enlargement should be washed in plenty of running water from the tap to arrest development, and then fixed in:-- Hyposulphite of soda 4 ounces. Water 20 " A quarter of an hour should be allowed for fixation, but it is better to use two baths, giving ten minutes in each. After washing in running water for a couple of hours they may be hung up by one corner to dry, or pinned down to a blotting board. Enlargements produced in the manner described should be of a pure engraving black colour, and if they are mounted upon _pure_ boards with _freshly_ made Glenfield starch, they should prove permanent. Enlargements are frequently toned to various shades of brown and red, generally by the employment of the uranium-toning bath. Although the colours so obtained are often very artistic and pleasing, no reliance can be placed upon the permanence of an enlargement so treated, and the writer strongly recommends that when warm coloured prints are desired, an enlarged negative should be made and prints made therefrom in carbon, silver, or sepia platinotype. ENLARGED NEGATIVES. The production of an enlarged negative presents no difficulty that need deter any careful worker from attempting the work. No additional apparatus to that already described will be required, and either day or artificial light may be employed. In the first place a transparency must be made from the small original negative. It may be made either by contact or in the camera, preferably the latter as then the acme of sharpness will be obtained. If, however, the reader is acquainted with the carbon process he cannot do better than make a carbon transparency, for such are specially adapted for the production of enlarged negatives. Many, however, will prefer to make the transparency on a bromide plate, and as this is the part of the process which requires the greatest amount of care, and as _in fact_ the _quality of the enlarged negative will entirely depend upon the character of the small transparency_, it is necessary to deal with the matter somewhat in detail. Preconceived ideas of quality based upon the appearance of a good lantern slide must be put aside, for that is not at all what is required. What is wanted is a transparency in which every possible detail existing in the negative has been reproduced, and which in comparison with a lantern slide would look rather flat and over-exposed. Every possible precaution should be taken to avoid granularity or coarseness of image, therefore a slow plate is almost essential; plates coated with lantern-slide emulsion are now obtainable, and will be found very suitable. A full exposure should be given, and a weak and well-restrained developer employed. These conditions tend to the production of the qualities desired. Warm coloured transparencies so produced generally have a finer grain than those developed to a black or colder colour, but unless the colours produced are fairly uniform, considerable variation in exposure when making the enlarged negatives will be necessary, and for this reason it would perhaps be better for the beginner to aim at the production of good black transparencies possessing the qualities indicated. The small transparency, having been fixed, washed and dried, should be edged with black paper to prevent any subsequent fogging of the plate, by the lateral spreading action of the light. It is then placed in the enlarging apparatus, just as in the case of a negative, and carefully focussed. This operation must be very carefully performed. The writer uses a thin and very sharp negative of an architectural subject to focus with, afterwards substituting the transparency which is to be enlarged. Landscape subjects, consisting chiefly of foliage, are seldom critically sharp, and it is then difficult to secure a sharply-focussed enlargement. The remainder of the operation is extremely simple. In the place of the ground-glass screen (which in this case should have its rough or ground side nearest to the enlarging lens) a slow dry plate is placed, backed with a piece of cardboard covered with black velvet to avoid reflections and possible fog. The exposure should be full, and a weak developer employed. Trial exposures may be made on quarter-plates, coated from the same batch of emulsion, which the manufacturers will willingly supply, if the purpose for which they are required is made known. Pyro will be found the most suitable developer, but it should contain a full proportion of sulphite, and not be too strong. Exposure and development should be so adjusted that by the time every possible detail has been developed up, the plate will not have become unduly dense. If expense has to be considered, a piece of slow smooth bromide paper may be substituted for the large dry plate in which case the result will be an enlarged paper negative. For large sizes, 15 × 12 and beyond, the latter is a very economical method of working, and the negatives will be found to yield most artistic prints, and if the operations have been carried out as described, and the prescribed conditions carefully observed, the grain of the paper will not show obtrusively or unpleasantly in the prints. An alternative method of working, and one which admits of a large amount of control over the ultimate result, is to make in the first place a large transparency of the full size that the enlarged negative is desired to be. All the precautions upon which stress has been laid should be observed in regard to the choice of plate, developer, etc.; but in this case the enlarged transparency may be given a little more vigour and sparkle than would be desirable if the other method of reproduction were adopted, though in this the reader must be guided by the particular effect which he may be seeking to produce in his prints. For this purpose pyro will be found to be the most suitable developer, in that it permits of a large amount of control. From the large transparency a negative is produced by contact printing either upon a plate, or upon a piece of bromide paper. The great advantages of the latter mode of working are the facilities which are afforded for retouching or working upon the large transparency. Negative retouching is always a difficult operation to an amateur, for he cannot see the effect of his work until he has made a print; whereas, in retouching a transparency the effect produced by each stroke of the pencil or brush is at once apparent. In the space at disposal it is not possible to describe the various ways in which improvements can be effected. First there are the chemical aids of local intensification or reduction. Then much may be done by the judicious use of a pencil, but the part to be retouched must first be lightly rubbed with a little retouching medium in order to make the pencil bite. In extreme cases the back of the negative may be covered with tissue paper upon which a stump and chalk may be used _at discretion_. The novice must not be disappointed with the appearance of his enlarged negative when it is finished, nor should he form an adverse opinion of its printing qualities until he has made a print from it. Confessedly an enlarged negative generally presents a different appearance to one that has been taken direct, and may even seem to lack some of those qualities that are commonly regarded as essential to perfection, but if the final result, the picture, comes up to our expectations, we may surely dismiss any lingering doubts as to whether the enlarged negative conforms to certain preconceived notions of technique, and it should be enough for us to know (and the fact is incontrovertible) that some of the finest and most artistic photographs ever shown owe their existence to this method of production. _John A. Hodges._ [Illustration: Walberswick. By Rev. A. H. Blake.] _P.O.P._ [Illustration] The three letters "P.O.P." are now so widely understood as referring to the Gelatino-Chloride Printing-Out class of Papers that it may be said that P.O.P. is known to many who are not acquainted with the fully-written name of this class of productions. Also it should be mentioned that when these papers are spoken of as gelatino-chloride papers it is not to be concluded therefrom that chloride of silver is the only silver salt present. What they do actually contain is probably only known to their respective producers. But generally speaking, it is enough to say that so far as the ordinary consumer is concerned, the family resemblance is so strong and chief characteristics so general that the following directions for using them may be held as generally applicable to the various well-known brands now on the market. At the outset, however, it will be convenient to note that for the purposes of manipulation we may roughly group them into two chief classes--_viz._, the matt (probably from the German word "matt," _i.e._, dull) and the glazed, glossy or enamelled. The latter comes to us with a highly glazed, _i.e._, shiny smooth surface, the former being slightly rough, of a surface and texture somewhat like that of very finely ground glass. _Care of the Paper._--The paper is sent out either in the full-sized sheet, measuring about 24 × 17 inches, or in smaller cut sizes, suitable for the usual 1/4, 1/2, 1/1 plate and other popular dimensions of plates. Compared with albumenized print-out paper, P.O.P. is more sensitive to light; therefore, some care must be taken to avoid needlessly exposing it to the influence of daylight or strong artificial light. For example, the printing frames should be filled as far away from any window as possible, and the prints examined from time to time either by gaslight or as feeble daylight as possible. In handling the paper--cutting it up, etc.--care must be taken to avoid touching the sensitive surface with the fingers in any case. The touch of a moist or hot finger is very likely to produce a mark or stain which is usually irremovable. The paper should be protected from damp, excessive heat and impure air. If kept _rolled_ in a tin tube or _flat_ under pressure in the original packages, it will keep a considerable time--_i.e._, longer than ordinary albumenized paper. _Printing_ is done in the usual way. Strong diffused light reflected from the sky or clouds usually gives a better print than direct sunshine. In case, however, of a thin flat negative--_i.e._, one with insufficient contrast--good results may sometimes be obtained by covering the printing frame with a sheet of green glass and printing in moderately strong sunshine. In hot summer sunshine it is as well to cover the green glass with a sheet of tissue paper or fine-ground glass. Care must be always taken when printing in sunshine or very hot weather to see that the negative itself does not get too warm, or the paper may stick to it. In this case the print is of course lost, and the negative, unless varnished, is also probably seriously damaged by silver stains, which are very difficult to remove. Printing should not be carried quite so far as in the case of ordinary albumenized paper because in the subsequent operations of toning, etc., not so much strength is lost. The same care as regards shielding from light, etc., should be given to the prints after they leave the printing frame. They may be proceeded with at once or kept for some days before being toned, etc., but if this is done the prints should be kept under pressure. Some workers have thought that the light action goes on, "continues" in the print after it is removed from the printing frame. This, however, is not the generally received opinion. _Washing._--It is important that the first washing should be done with some care, or the prints may become stained. The points calling for attention are (1) running water and plenty of it, (2) care to see that the prints do not stick together. What is needed is that the soluble salts should be washed out of the paper as quickly as possible, and that the prints be not allowed to remain in the water containing these soluble salts longer than is necessary. Hence the advantage of running water and plenty of it. The washing water must not be too cold or the salts will not pass out of the paper quickly enough; and again, it must not be too warm or the gelatine will melt. The best temperature is about 65° F., and the limits should not go beyond 60° and 70° F., and preferably are kept within 60° and 65° F. As the paper is usually rather stout, it will need washing in running or constantly changed water for about ten to fifteen minutes, and in any case must be continued until all milky appearance of the water ceases. The print at this stage has a red-brown colour. If it is now passed direct into the fixing bath without toning it becomes somewhat more yellow, and when dry is usually a colour somewhat between yellow ochre and sienna. _Toning_ is usually our next operation, and for this purpose we have a variety of toning baths recommended by different workers. The sulphocyanide and gold is perhaps the chief favourite. 1. Ammonium sulphocyanide 10 to 15 grains. Gold chloride 1 grain. Water 8 to 10 ounces. The proper way to mix this bath is to add the gold to the solution of sulphocyanide a little at a time. The following method will be found convenient. As ammonium sulphocyanide is somewhat deliquescent, it is convenient to keep it in solution. Therefore, one ounce of the salt dissolved in twenty ounces of (distilled or filtered rain) water gives us roughly a strength of twenty-two grains per ounce. Dissolve the contents of a fifteen-grain chloride of gold in fifteen drams of distilled water. To mix a bath, take of the sulphocyanide solution half-an ounce; to this add eight ounces of water. Now take one dram of the gold solution and dilute with one ounce of water. Then add this dilute gold solution a _little_ at a time to the eight ounces of sulphocyanide solution, and stir well with a glass rod. It will be noticed that as the gold solution drops into the sulphocyanide solution an orange-red precipitate is formed, which is redissolved on stirring. Hence the gold must be added to the sulphocyanide, and not _vice versa_. 2. Another favourite bath is as follows:-- Ammonium sulphocyanide 22 grains. Soda sulphite 2 " Gold chloride 2 " Water 20 to 25 ounces. Instead of weighing out two grains of sulphite it is more convenient to weigh twenty grains and dissolve in two-and-a-half ounces of water--_i.e._, at the rate of one grain per dram of solution. Thus, to mix this bath, take an ounce of the above-mentioned sulphocyanide solution dilute with twenty ounces water. To this add two drams (1/4 oz.) of the sulphite solution. Then take two drams of the gold chloride solution and dilute with an ounce of water, and add slowly with stirring as before. 3. Another favourite bath is:-- Sodium chloride (table salt) 60 grains. Ammonium sulphocyanide 15 " Gold chloride 2 " Water 10 to 12 ounces. Some of the adherents of this bath recommend that the prints be only washed in running water for a few minutes and then put into the toning bath. Others advise the prints to be immersed in the toning bath without any previous washing--_i.e._, straight from the printing frame. 4. Here, again, is another bath which usually yields excellent results:-- Soda phosphate 5 grains. Sodium chloride (table salt) 20 " Gold chloride 1 grain. Water 10 ounces. 5. Other workers omit the sodium chloride and increase the phosphate and get good tones. Soda phosphate 20 grains. Gold chloride 1 grain. Water 10 ounces. 6. Others, again, combine the phosphate and sulphocyanide baths thus:-- Sodium phosphate 10 grains. Ammonium sulphocyanide 15 " Gold 1 " Water 10 ounces. The various toning baths mentioned above have one drawback common to them all in varying degrees--_viz._, that when once mixed and used they do not keep in good working order longer than a few hours. 7. The following bath claims to have the advantage that it will keep in working order for a short time at any rate, but the disadvantage that it cannot be used until it has been mixed twelve to twenty-four hours. Soda acetate 60 grains. Ammonium sulphocyanide 20 " Gold chloride 1 grain. Water 12 ounces. Toning should be conducted in very weak daylight, or what is much better, gas or lamplight. The latter, being practically constant, enables the operator to judge the relative colour of the prints from time to time. Care must be taken so that the prints do not stick together in the toning bath, and preferably only a few, say half-a-dozen or so, dealt with at a time, so that each print can be frequently turned over and examined. The change of colours proceeds somewhat slowly at first, but when once it begins it seems to gain in rapidity of rate of change, so that a careful watch must be kept. Let it be remembered that the print, after fixing and drying, will appear a little darker and more blue (less red) than when wet in the toning bath. The temperature of the bath must not be too cold or toning is very slow, nor too warm or the gelatine may melt and toning be uneven. From 60° to 65° F. will be found a convenient range. The prints should not be touched on their printed surface more than can be helped. The fingers must be quite clean, the solutions uncontaminated with other chemicals, and a dish set apart for toning operations only. This dish should always be washed out well with tepid or cold water before and after use, and when put away should rest flat, opening downwards, on a shelf covered with a sheet of clean blotting paper. Many failures in toning are entirely due to lack of care in details and sufficient attention to cleanliness. When toning is judged to be carried far enough, the prints should be placed in a roomy dish containing a solution of common salt, strength one ounce to twenty or thirty ounces of water, to stop further toning. Fixing is done with a "one in ten" solution of sodium thiosulphite--_i.e._, hypo. This should be prepared with tepid water, or some time before use, as the dissolving of hypo in water is accompanied by a fall of temperature. A convenient method is to place a couple of ounces of hypo in a clean pint jug, and add about half a pint of fairly warm water and stir with a glass rod until the salt is dissolved, then fill up the jug from the tap with cold water. It is highly desirable to have plenty of fixing solution, and never attempt to use the same lot twice. Place each print face down in the bath and submerge by pressing on its back. Again see that the prints do not stick to each other, and turn each print two or three times. They should be in the fixing bath not less than twelve or fifteen minutes, and a few minutes longer will do no harm. At the end of, say, fifteen minutes, pour away about one half of the fixing bath and slowly fill up with water. Turn the prints again, and then transfer them one by one to another roomy dish and wash in running water for a couple of hours, or in a dozen changes of water every five or ten minutes. Then hang up to dry, using either clips or pin a corner to the edge of a wooden shelf or long lath suspended in a cool, airy place. _Alum Bath._--Hot weather considerably increases the danger of the gelatine melting. To meet this trouble the following plan has to be resorted to:-- 8. Dissolve common (potash) alum, one ounce in a pint of tepid water. Let it stand until cold and pour off gently the clear part should any sediment appear. After washing and before toning, place the prints in this alum bath for about ten minutes and _again_ wash before toning for ten or fifteen minutes in running water. _The Combined (Toning and Fixing) Bath._--The general weight of opinion is _not_ in favour of combining these two operations at one time when reliable results are desired. Nevertheless, there are times when this method may be found a convenience and yield results which are all that may be desired. The following bath is a favourite with some workers:-- 9. Ammonium sulphocyanide 15 grains Table salt 30 grains Hypo 2 ounces Water 10 ounces To this is _slowly_ added one grain of gold chloride in half an ounce of water. The prints first washed for five or ten minutes in running water, and placed in the combined bath and kept moving by being constantly turned over and over for about ten or fifteen minutes. The longer they remain in the bath the more blue and less red will they be when dried. Here is another bath which finds some stout supporters:-- 10. Ammonium sulphocyanide 20 grains Hypo 1 ounce Alum 30 grains Water 10 ounces Shake well, until thoroughly dissolved, then add Lead nitrate 20 grains Again shake well and set aside to settle, pour off the clear part, and add Gold chloride 1 grain dissolved in half an ounce of water. Others recommend a still more simple bath as follows:-- 11. Hypo 1 ounce Water 8 ounces Gold chloride 1 grain It is said that this bath gives better results if it is prepared a few hours before use, _e.g._, prepared in the morning and used in the evening. Meanwhile, it should be kept away from daylight, and not in a very cold place. _Drying and Glazing._--Some workers are of opinion that it is better to first "rough dry" the prints, _e.g._, by suspending by clips, or pinning one corner to a strip of wood, etc., and then to wet again and dry on a rough or smooth surface according as a matt or glazed final effect is desired. If however, the print has been through the alum bath (No. 8.) this preliminary rough drying may not be necessary. _Matt Surface._--The matt paper when rough dried has a matt or slightly rough surface, but it may be desired to accentuate the effect. This may be done as follows:--Thoroughly clean with soap water and a nail brush a sheet of "fine-ground" glass similar to that used for a focussing screen. When quite dry, lightly dust it with fine talc powder (French chalk) and polish off again with a bit of clean rag. Now slip this plate rough side up into a dish of cold water, which also contains the print face downwards. Bring the print and glass into contact under water, carefully avoiding any air bubbles between them, as the two together are now raised from the water; firmly, evenly, but lightly pass a squeegee over the back of the print now in contact with the glass. Then lightly press a sheet of blotting paper over the print to take up all adhering water, and set up in a cool airy place to dry, _e.g._, in a passage or between the door and half-open window. When quite dry, the print will very probably of itself come away from the glass, but if not, the finger nail inserted under one corner and a gently backward pull will separate it from the glass. In place of the fine ground glass, rougher glass of course may be employed. Some workers also use for the same purpose a sheet of roughened celluloid. This is more costly than glass, but being not so fragile may prove cheaper in the end. _Glazing Prints_ is done exactly in the same way, with the single difference, of course, that we use a _smooth_ piece of glass, vulcanite, celluloid, paper maché slab, sheet of ferrotype metal, etc., etc., in place of a ground-matt, or rough surface. All the above-named substances have their partizans; perhaps the greatest favourite being good plate glass free from scratches. In all cases it is important to attend to two points, _viz._, thoroughly cleaning the support and waxing it. Various substances and mixtures have been recommended for giving a glaze, polish to the glass, etc. Many workers adhere to the powdered talc or French chalk already mentioned. Others prefer some of the mixtures given below:-- 12. Bees wax 20 grains Turpentine 1 ounce 13. Spermaceti 20 grains Benzole 1 ounce A few drops only of the lubricant are applied to the glass plate with a bit of clean flannel, and well rubbed all over. Then a final polish is given with a clean old silk handkerchief, or clean dry wash leather. On no account attempt to strip the print from the glass until the print is _quite_ dry or failure is more than likely to arise. _Mounting._--Care should be taken that the mountant does not give an acid reaction. Test with litmus paper. Clearly it is no use being at the trouble of producing a high gloss on the print if we are going to damp the print and so destroy the gloss in the operation of mounting. To avoid this, various plans have been adopted. (1.) If a cut-out mount is used it will suffice if the print be attached to the mount by glue at the edges only of the "cut-out." (2.) Another method is to paste down on to the back of the print before it is quite dry, and while still on the glazing support, a backing of thin waterproof paper specially prepared for this purpose. This prevents the moisture of the mountant penetrating to the print. (3.) Another plan is to use a mountant which does not contain water. The following mixtures are recommended:-- 14. Masticated rubber 10 grains Benzole 1 ounce A thin layer of this is applied by means of a short, stiff, flat hog's hair brush to the back of the print. It is then allowed to evaporate for a minute or so, and when tacky is applied to the mount, covered with a sheet of glazed paper, and a roller squeegee passed over the surface. 15. Saturated solution of bleached shellac in alcohol. This must be applied as thinly as possible. 16. Le Page's fish glue applied to the edges only of the back of the print. A fourth method is to first carefully clean the edges of the glass surrounding the print still adhering to it. Then to paste down the mount to the print and let all dry. Then strip the print from the glass now already mounted. This is, however, a process not to be recommended, because requiring a long time for the print to dry, as the evaporation has to take place through the substance of the mount. ADDITIONAL PROCEDURES WITH P.O.P. _Development of Partially Printed Proofs._--This method of procedure is sometimes a matter of convenience in dull weather, etc. The printing is to be carried on until one can just see a very slight indication of detail in the high-lights. It is then washed in running water for about ten minutes, and then put into a ten per cent. bath of potassium bromide, and there it remains for another ten minutes or so. In this bath some of the image seems to fade away, and generally the print takes on a yellow tinge. The print is next washed in running water for about ten minutes, and then developed with ortol, metol, or preferably, hydroquinone. A considerable variation in the proportions of the constituents of the developer are possible. In general terms, one may say that a developer which gives a good black and white lantern slide when diluted with about an equal quantity of water will give a satisfactory print. 17. As an example of a thoroughly practical developer for this purpose we may give just one example:-- A Hydroquinone 70 grains Potassium metabisulphite 5 " Potassium bromide 30 " Water 20 ounces B Soda sulphite 1 ounce Caustic soda 60 grains Water 20 ounces Take equal parts and mix just before use, wash for at least ten minutes in running water at once after development. Developed prints may be toned in the combined bath 9, 10 or 11, or may first be fixed, then _thoroughly_ washed, and then toned and again washed. If good results are wanted by the development process it is important to be careful that the paper is not exposed even to weak daylight more than can be helped, and not even to strong artificial light more than is necessary. At the same time it is quite practicable to do the operation of the bromide bath and developing in fairly strong gaslight, _i.e._, one need by no means be limited to the ordinary dark-room light as when developing plates. Another point worth noting is that it is quite practicable to use magnesium ribbon for printing. For a rather thin negative it will be perhaps found sufficient to burn about a foot of the metal ribbon about three or four inches from the glass. The printing frame should be set up on edge in the vertical plane. The strip of metal ribbon is held by a pair of pliers, and ignited at the flame of a candle or spirit lamp. The lid of a biscuit box just in front of the frame does very well to catch the white magnesium oxide formed by burning. It is as well to move the flame of the burning metal opposite various parts of the negative during the exposure. It will be found a comfort to wear a pair of rather dark blue glasses during this operation, as the bright light of combustion prevents one seeing anything with ease for a little while. After development the print may be fixed only, and under certain conditions it is possible to obtain a fairly satisfactory black or brown colour without toning, but there is usually a slight tendency towards rather too much yellow. _Platinum Toning._--This method of toning is a favourite with many workers. By it a considerable variety of colour tones may be obtained, from a rich red chocolate brown through sepia brown to a warm black. The following toning baths have each their several advocates, and each worker must discover by experiment the one that gives him the particular brown colour he prefers:-- 18. Potassium chloroplatinite 1 grain. Water 1/2 ounce. Add dilute nitric acid (one part strong acid, twenty parts water) drop by drop until the mixture just turns a bit of blue litmus paper a red tinge. Now take a glass rod and make of it a mop by tying a small bunch of clean cotton wool over one end, using for the purpose a bit of white cotton. Having thoroughly washed the print for _at least_ ten minutes in running water, lay it face up on a sheet of glass, and apply the above toning solution with the cotton wool mop. Having got a tint or colour nearly what you want, but allowing for a loss of red in fixing, wash off the toning solution and immerse the print in:-- 19. Washing soda 1 ounce. Water 10 " for three or four minutes, and then fix in the usual way in a ten per cent. hypo bath. Here are some platinum toning baths well recommended:-- 20. Lactic acid 2 drams. Water 12 ounces. Pot. chloroplatinite 2 grains. 21. Citric acid 20 grains. Water 10 ounces. Table salt 20 grains. Pot. chloroplatinite 2 grains. 22. Phosphoric acid 3 drams. Water 10 ounces. Pot. chloroplatinite 2 grains. The chief points to bear in mind in platinum toning are: (1) that the print must have practically all the free silver washed away before toning. To this end it is a very good plan to dip each print for a couple of minutes or so in a bath of table salt one ounce, water ten ounces, and again rinse under the tap for a minute or two. (2) That the toning bath is acid, therefore one must either neutralize this acidity by passing through an alkaline bath, such as No. 19, or what perhaps is rather more convenient, though not quite so desirable--_i.e._, using a fixing bath made distinctly alkaline. The following proportions are recommended:-- 23. Hypo 1 ounce. Water 10 ounces. Soda sulphite 1/2 ounce. Washing soda 1/2 " _Toning with Gold and Platinum._--A large number of experimenters have tried to find out how to produce platinotype-like effects with P.O.P. papers. Perhaps none of them have been completely successful. The following procedure, however, seems to give the nearest approach to that ideal. The best results are obtained with a slightly matt-surfaced paper. This should be printed a shade or two deeper than the print is intended to appear finally. The print is well washed and then _partly_ toned in a gold bath:-- 24. Soda acetate 30 grains. Borax 25 " Water 10 ounces. Gold chloride 1 grain. It is then washed for a minute or so, and the toning continued in the following bath. 25. Phosphoric acid 1 dram. Water 5 ounces. Pot. chloroplatinite 2 grains. Wash for five minutes and fix in bath 23. _Intensifying and Reducing P.O.P._--When the negative is obtainable and printable it is _very_ much better, and altogether more satisfactory to make a fresh print than to attempt to intensify or reduce an unsatisfactory one. Nevertheless, it sometimes happens that this course is not possible, and the best has to be made from an unsatisfactory print. If the print is only very lightly printed, and comes straight from the printing frame, it is best to strengthen it by development (see formula 17 _et seq._). If the print has been toned and fixed, etc., the following may be tried:-- 26. Make a _saturated solution_ of mercury bichloride in cold water, let it settle, and use only the quite clear supernatent liquid. Immerse the print in this for 15 minutes, turning it from time to time, and see that no air bells are clinging to either side. Wash the print in running water for 15 minutes at least, and longer if convenient. Then immerse it in a bath consisting of strong ammonia one part, water ten or twelve parts. Again wash for five minutes under the tap. _Reducing P.O.P._-- 27. Hypo 120 grains (120) Uranium nitrate 4 " Water 2 ounces. The advocates of this solution claim for it that it can be used either _before_ or _after_ toning with equal facility and advantage. Prints must be well washed both before and after its use in any case. Another method, which is somewhat risky except in expert hands, is as follows:-- 28. Dissolve metal iodine in alcohol to a rich dark port wine colour. Dilute a small quantity with cold water until the whole is a pale sherry colour. Now prepare a one in ten solution of potassium cyanide (_N.B.: a powerful poison_) and add this a _little_ at a time until the pale yellow colour of the iodine solution is just discharged. The print may be immersed in this until sufficiently reduced, or it may be applied locally with cotton wool mop (as described above under platinum toning formula 18). The print must of course be quickly washed just before the desired degree of reduction has been produced. This solution acts somewhat quickly when once the action begins, and therefore it is well to deal with prints one at a time. DEFECTS, ETC. _Red-orange_ patches are usually due to touching the gelatine surface with dirty fingers, etc. These places, being somewhat greasy, repel the various fluids and cause uneven action of the developing, toning, etc. _Brown Stains_ are also often produced in the same way. They may _sometimes_ be removed by the application of a saturated solution of alum. If this fails one may try "chloride of lime" ("bleaching powder") one part in twenty parts of hot water. Allow to stand until cold and apply with cotton wool mop. _Yellow Stains_ may sometimes be removed by a dilute solution of potassium cyanide (poison) of strength one part cyanide in fifty parts water. (Yellow stains usually indicate hypo splashes.) _General Fog from Age._--This sometimes may be considerably reduced by giving the prints the bath of: Soda sulphite (one in fifteen) _before_ toning, but well washing after this bath and before toning. _Very Slow Toning_ generally points to the fact that the toning bath is too cold, or that it has been spoilt by a small quantity of hypo or developer, or that it does not contain sufficient gold. _Uneven Toning, i.e._, blue edges, generally points to a bath too strong in gold, or that there are too many prints in the bath at once, so that the edges are getting more of the metal than the central parts, or it may arise from prints sticking together or to the bottom of the dish. _Blue-Grey Tones_ indicate too long a time in the toning bath, or a bath too strong in gold. _Red-Yellow Tones_ arise from just the opposite state of affairs. _Pinking_ of the high-lights points to the bath being too weak or becoming worked out. _Double Toning_, _i.e._, the print shewing different colours, points to insufficient washing or uneven action of the toning bath, _i.e._, not keeping the prints moving, or too slow toning, or that the toning bath does not suit the brand of paper. _Blisters_ are usually due either to using a hypo fixing bath too strong, or passing the print from one solution to another of a markedly different temperature. Hence the importance of dissolving the hypo either in tepid water or some time before use. The best all-round temperature for working this process is between the limits of 60° and 65° F. _Tinting P.O.P._--The colours to be used may be the usual moist water colours by some good maker, or solutions of aniline colours. These latter may usually be dissolved in water and applied in thin washes. The surface of the print should be rubbed as little as possible. If water colours are to be used it will be found helpful to prepare the surface of the print with one or other of the following preparations. 29. White (bleached) lac. 1 part Alcohol 12--15 parts Apply evenly and quickly with a spray diffuser or with a broad soft brush, and let the print become _nearly_ dry before applying the colours. 30. The white of an egg in twenty ounces of water. Shake well, then add ammonia drop by drop until the mixture just very faintly smells of it. Filter and brush over the surface of the print. In mixing the water colours also use this albumen solution in place of water. _Advantages of P.O.P._--As compared with ordinary albumenized silver paper the P.O.P. class has the advantage of giving more detail with marked transparency in the shadows. The operations are more flexible and the results are as permanent, if not more so, than those on albumen paper. The paper keeps in good condition for a longer time. The negative giving the best results with P.O.P. is one having delicacy rather than vigour, _i.e._, a long scale of gradation of delicate steps is well rendered. Printing takes place quicker with P.O.P. than with albumen papers. The cost of paper and materials is much about the same in both instances. _Notes._--In the glazed variety of paper the smooth shiny surface is the sensitive one, and, of course, goes next the negative in the printing frame. In the matt paper the sensitive side may generally be known by its tendency to curl inward, _i.e._, the concave or hollow side is the printing side. Formalin may be used in place of alum for hardening the gelatine. Of the usual 40 per cent. solution of formalin take one ounce and dilute with ten or twelve ounces of water. Dark spots or specks are frequently due to metallic dust either from the fingers or in the water. Mounts having sham gold edges or bronze powders should be banished from the dark-room. Dry "pyro" floating in the air may also account for spots. _Rev. F. C. Lambert, M.A._ [Illustration: UNLOADING. A. M. MORRISON.] _Platinotype Printing._ [Illustration] Amongst the various printing processes in common use amongst photographers, platinotype is unique in several respects. Printing is conducted by daylight in precisely the same manner as silver printing, but the action of light only suffices to make the image partially visible. In this respect, platinotype stands, as it were, midway between what are familiarly termed "print-out" processes--that is, those in which the image is made completely visible by daylight, and those in which the action of light is latent or invisible, such as bromide paper and in the carbon process. The distinctive character of the platinotype print, with which, probably, everyone is so familiar that a platinotype effect almost amounts to a generic term, is not so much essential to the process, but has been largely determined by the different kind of papers and the preparation of those adopted by the manufacturers of platinotype printing papers. In the first place, the platinotype print is before anything a matt surface print, and possesses a certain kind of texture or surface which gives the finished print an appearance similar to a pencil drawing or an engraving; an appearance largely assisted by the characteristic colour of the platinum image, which is black. The invention and production of platinotype paper is due to Mr. Willis and the Platinotype Company, and although subsequently there have been both English and foreign imitators, we may safely confine our attention to those papers made and supplied by the Platinotype Company. As, however, the purpose of this article is to furnish the beginner with simple working instructions, rather than to describe the principles of the process, we will at once proceed to say how a platinotype print is made. To begin with, platinotype printing is divided into cold-bath process and hot-bath process. Of the latter we shall speak later on, but for the present, as being most suitable for the amateur and beginner, we will consider the cold-bath method. The reason for this division and the meaning of the name will be abundantly evident presently. We first of all procure a tin of paper of the quality marked AA. The paper is put up in tin cylinders containing twenty-four pieces of either 1/4-plate or 1/2-plate sizes, or less for larger sizes. It may, if preferred, be obtained in full-size sheets 20 × 26 inches. We have now to bear in mind that the paper is sensitive to daylight to a slightly greater degree than are the silver print-out papers, and hence, whilst handling the paper, placing it in the printing frames, or what not, we need to be a little more careful as to how near the window we bring the paper. At the side of the room furthest from the window, or with an intervening screen between the paper and the window, or yet again, with the blind drawn down, we shall be quite safe in opening our tin of paper and inspecting it. On removing the lid of the tin we find a false top or cover hermetically sealing it, which has to be cut through in the manner becoming customary with various tinned foods and comestibles. We then find that the paper within is yellow on one side which is the sensitive side. Within the roll of papers at the bottom of the tin we shall find a hard irregular lump of some substance wrapped round with cotton wool. Keep this in the tin and now note its use from the following:--Platinotype paper is highly susceptible to moisture and deteriorates under its influence. The air we breathe, and therefore the air enclosed within the tin case or any other vessel contains a large amount of moisture, and this moisture would be taken up by the platinotype paper to its own detriment. The presence of water or moisture in the atmosphere or in things we handle, although quite unperceived by us, would be discoverable by the platinum salts on the paper, which would thus become unfit for use, hence the only way of preserving it is by placing in the tin containing the paper some chemical which is even more susceptible to moisture than platinotype paper. Such a body is calcium chloride, and this it is which we find wrapped in cotton wool in each tin tube of paper, or to speak more accurately it is asbestos prepared in a solution of calcium chloride. So long as that little lump remains dry and hard we may be quite sure that it has left no moisture in the air around it for the platinotype paper, and it will go on drinking it up until it becomes softened by saturation, when it must be removed and a fresh piece substituted, or it may be restored to its former condition by drying it on a red-hot shovel, the asbestos remaining unconsumed. Whilst perhaps in after practice we may find it possible to relax our precautions against damp, yet at the outset the necessity of the utmost caution being observed cannot be too strongly insisted upon. Out of a very large number of prints representing the beginner's first attempts at platinotype, by far the greatest number of failures are due to damp, and this, probably, for want of conception of the danger to which the paper is exposed. Remember then that where there is ordinary air there is also abundant moisture, and as no tin box with a movable lid is air-tight, neither is it moisture-proof, but in the case of our tin of platinotype paper when once opened will go on admitting moisture which the calcium chloride will take up until it can take no more. After having cut through the inner sealed top of the tin, close up the little hole in the outer lid where the cutting point is with sealing wax, next cover the mouth of the tube with a piece of waxed paper or tinfoil, shut the lid down on to this, and then cover the junction of the lid with a broad indiarubber band. In this way damp may be prevented from gaining access to the inside of the tube to a great extent. Specially constructed tubes are made which close with an air-tight stopper and have a false bottom with a perforated partition in which the calcium chloride may be kept. Such a "calcium-tube," as it is called, if not an absolute necessity, is a very desirable acquisition. If you now take the negative to be printed from and hold it near the fire or a spirit lamp, it will on becoming warm give off perceptible moisture, thus showing that it was distinctly damp before. The negative, therefore, should be dried before being brought into contact with the platinotype paper. [Illustration: STREONSALCH. W.J. WARREN.] The wood printing frame itself, if it has been used for printing in the open air, should be placed in an oven or held near the fire to thoroughly dry it. Having placed the negative and the platinotype paper in the frame in the ordinary manner, there should next be placed at the back of the paper a thin sheet of waterproof cloth, vulcanized rubber of the proper size and thickness being sold for the purpose; this will prevent damp from penetrating to the paper from the back of the frame. The frame may now be closed and placed in the light for printing, and even having taken all these elaborate precautions against damp it would not be advisable to print out of doors except in dry weather, nor should the paper be left in the frame longer than need be, but if it is not proposed to finish the print off at once, it should be returned as soon as convenient to the security of the calcium tube. GENERAL OUTLINE OF THE PROCESS. Platinotype paper is ordinarily only available for daylight printing, though the Platinotype Company have introduced a lamp of special construction and great power, by the use of which daylight may be dispensed with, and electric light, should it be available, may be used. As has been already said, platinotype paper is rather more sensitive to light than silver paper, and hence takes proportionately less time to print. The duration of the exposure to light constitutes the only real difficulty in platinotype printing, and whilst just at first it may result in the beginner's meeting with much disappointment, yet probably, with a little care and watchfulness the trouble will be surmounted, and sufficient experience gained to secure fairly uniform success thereafter, before even the first tube of paper has been used. The printed image shows on the yellow ground of the sensitized side as a faint grey, the darkest portions assuming an orange-grey tint, whilst the lighter parts remain all but invisible. A little practice will enable one to judge the right depth, that is to say, how visible the image should be before printing is to be stopped, but as a rough guide to commence with it may be said that printing is complete when the image is about half as deep as we should expect it to be if it were a "print-out" process. As we shall have occasion to return to the question of printing presently, we may now pass to the next step in the process. In twenty-five ounces of hot water dissolve half a pound of best neutral oxalate of potash, and keep this in a stoppered bottle as stock solution. What is known as _neutral_ oxalate should be used, and in order to ensure having a suitable salt it had better be obtained from a recognised photographic chemist or dealer. As the above solution becomes cool, a good deal of the oxalate will probably settle at the bottom in the form of solid crystals; of these no notice need be taken, for as long as there are undissolved crystals at the bottom of the bottle we know we have a saturated solution. We shall now require a dish of porcelain or enamelled iron, and if we choose the latter great care must be taken to see that the enamel is not cracked or blistered, as it will have an injurious effect if the oxalate of potash solution obtain access to the iron under the enamel. As it will be convenient to be able to alter the temperature of the solution when in this dish at will, a spirit lamp or stove or a small gas-stove will be a useful, if not an essential addition. Over such heating apparatus the dish should be supported on an iron tripod, or by any extemporized substitute. If a porcelain dish be used, a thin sheet of iron should be placed first on the tripod stand, and then three or four scraps of iron, large common iron nails will serve very well, and on these the porcelain dish is allowed to rest so that it does not come into direct contact with the iron plate. The purpose of this is to save the dish from cracking, moreover the iron plate becomes hot, and retaining a good deal of heat serves as a kind of accumulator which goes far to maintain the dish and the contained solution at a uniform temperature for at least a short time. Even better than this arrangement will be an iron dish filled with clean dry sand, the porcelain dish to rest on the sand which retains much heat. If an enamelled iron dish be employed, these precautions are not so necessary, though they may still be used with advantage. Next we shall require another dish or similar vessel into which we pour a weak solution of hydrochloric acid, the usual proportions being:-- Water 70 parts Pure hydrochloric acid 1 part This constitutes the whole of the very simple apparatus needed, and we may now proceed to develop our print, which as already described is exposed to light in a printing frame in the usual manner until the image appears rather less than half-printed. DEVELOPMENT OF THE PRINT. If convenient it would be an advantage to have the above-mentioned apparatus set up close to the window or other situation where the printing is actually carried on in order that each print may be developed and finished off forthwith,; the reason for this will, I think, appear as we proceed. Development--that is, the changing of the print from the partially visible condition to its full degree of intensity--is practically instantaneous. The image does not gradually attain its maximum strength as in a negative or bromide print, but does so within a few seconds of its coming into contact with the oxalate of potash solution. [Illustration: Fig. 1.] Having put into the dish on the tripod stand sufficient of the saturated solution of oxalate of potash to cover the bottom of the dish to the depth of half an inch or an inch, we light the lamp or stove and bring the solution up to a temperature of about 70° Fahrenheit. This may be tested with a thermometer or may very well be guessed by touch; we merely require the solution quite warm, but not so hot as to cause the slightest inconvenience if the fingers are placed therein. This will be a sufficiently accurate guide as to temperature. In case any dust or scum should have accumulated on the surface of the bath, wipe the surface of the solution with a piece of clean paper, and now take the first print to be developed in both hands, giving it a decided curl, or roll it round into a cylinder _sensitive side out_, so that it naturally takes a curled-up form (Fig. 1). We now take the print to the dish containing the oxalate solution without previous washing and without exposing the paper to the influence of light or moisture, and lowering the edge of the paper held in the left hand, sensitive side downwards, until it touches the fluid quickly and smoothly bring the rest of the print down until the right-hand end finally reaches the solution, then give it a sliding sort of shake in order to set free any bubbles of air which may be imprisoned under the paper, and then on raising the paper again after five to ten seconds, the image will be found to have come out to the full degree of visibility, which the amount of exposure had paved the way for. The paper may be returned to the oxalate bath for a minute or two longer if it be thought desirable, though only in the case of a very cold bath is any effect produced on the print by the oxalate after the first few seconds. The print is then passed _direct_ to the hydrochloric acid bath, which should be ready in a dish close at hand, and the print is now practically finished. Before placing the print in the acid bath it may be noticed that the portions of the print not affected by light still remain yellow, and this yellowness the acid bath removes almost at once. In order to effectually remove the yellow surface (which is the unacted-upon sensitive salts and hence upon their removal the permanence of the print depends) three successive applications of the acid bath should be resorted to, the prints remaining for 5 to 10 minutes in each, and then finally washed in running water for a quarter-of-an-hour, dried between blotting paper or in any other manner preferred, and the platinotype print is finished and ready for mounting. It should be seen from the foregoing general outline of the process that for directness, simplicity, and for the short time in which a finished print may be produced that platinotype stands alone amongst printing methods. There are, however, some points needing careful consideration at each stage of the print's production, and to these we may now pay attention. PRACTICAL CONSIDERATIONS AS REGARDS EXPOSURE. As has already been stated right exposure constitutes the crux of the whole process; this once mastered the rest of the performance--development, clearing in acid and washing--is so simple that the chance of failure is remote. Hence the greater need of paying especial attention to the question of exposure or printing. Obviously, the duration of time of exposure cannot be fixed, not even to the extent it can be in bromide printing or any other method of printing with artificial light which may be a definite and permanent quantity. The variable quality of the daylight and the density of the negative are both fluctuating factors in the calculation and hence some means may advisedly be resorted to for acquiring a sort of exposure index suitable for each individual negative and every variety of light. First let it be noted that even with very great over-exposure the image will not become wholly visible, whilst to the inexperienced eye but little change takes place in the appearance of the printed image after the correct exposure has been reached. If then the print has been over-exposed, the fact is not made evident until the print is subjected to the influence of the oxalate developing bath. To start platinotype work trusting to chance or good fortune to secure for us good results, means that our whole course will be one of uncertainty and filled with exasperating disappointments to say nothing of the amount of paper and material which is certain to be wasted in unsuccessful efforts. The reader will probably have learned something of this from his past experiences of negative exposure, the difficulties of which he has by now, we may hope, overcome by careful and patient study, or else if he is not even now undergoing this stage of learning he is the victim of endless mistakes, every plate exposed is a shot in the dark with no certainty attending any one of them. Exposure, however, in platinotype is not so difficult a matter as that of a dry plate, and the correct exposure with any particular negative once ascertained, every subsequent print from the same negative can, by simple mechanical means, be made with the certainty of its being _an exact facsimile_ of the others. PRINTING WITH AN ACTINOMETER. Several kinds of Actinometers are made for sale, the purpose of which is either to indicate the right exposure of a plate in the camera or to tell the duration of exposure for papers such as platinotype or carbon, the image on which is invisible, or nearly so. A simple, yet thoroughly efficient meter may be made as follows:--Cut some fine tissue paper or _papier minéral_ into strips about a quarter of an inch wide and attach one to a piece of clean glass 4-1/4 × 3-1/4 with fresh starch or other colourless mountant. Upon this first strip and exactly over it place a second, but bring it to within a quarter of an inch of the end of the first, next place a third strip in like manner a quarter of an inch short of the second strip, and so on until some seven or eight strips have been fixed. The combination will now be somewhat as the following drawing (Fig. 2), thus forming a tissue band which at each quarter-inch is one thickness more opaque. [Illustration: Fig. 2.] In the centre of each strip or increased thickness, paint with opaque colour, black or red, a letter or figure as in (Fig. 3). On the back or other side of the glass to which these strips are attached, paint over or cover with opaque paper all except the space covered by the strips. Now place the whole in an ordinary 1/4-plate printing frame, with the paper strips inside, next adjust a piece of silver paper, albumenized, or gelatine chloride precisely as though printing from a negative. Close the back and we then have a thoroughly efficient actinometer. [Illustration: Fig. 3.] We now put out our first piece of platinotype paper to print, and alongside it so as to receive the exact same amount of light, we place our actinometer. The first print must admittedly be guess-work. After an interval of time, which may vary from say fifteen minutes to an hour according to the amount of light, we will withdraw the frame containing the platinotype print, and _simultaneously turn the actinometer over with its face down_, thus stopping its printing whilst examining the platinotype. Retiring from the light we examine the progress of printing precisely as in silver printing, and we shall probably find that the image on the negative is now faintly visible on the platinotype paper, impressed in a sort of warm grey colour. If the darkest portions are of about the tint which we might produce by shading with an H pencil on a piece of primrose yellow or pale buff paper, we may reckon that the print has been sufficiently exposed. Now refer to the actinometer and see what has taken place on the silver paper which we put into it. Probably while the platinotype paper has been reaching the required depth of printing, the silver paper has also registered the image of the strips of paper, and has become printed through up to the fourth or fifth step of the tissue strips, showing on each strip its letter in white. Make a note of the highest letter visible and proceed to develop the platinotype print. If upon development the print is weak and grey, lacking depth or intensity in the deepest shadows, and having blank and detailless whites for the higher tones, we may reckon that our print is under-exposed. The letter visible then, _with that particular negative_ is not sufficient. We then shift the paper in the actinometer so as to get a fresh portion under the tissue strips, or we substitute a new piece. We refill the printing frame and print again until the actinometer registers one, two, or three more steps and letters, and then try again. If, however, in the first case the platinotype print upon development gives a heavy dark print, with the details in shadows blocked up, and the high-lights grey, the whole possessing an overdone appearance, then in our second attempt we shall stop printing when the actinometer records some one or two letters less. But we may be more fortunate in our first attempt, and the print may be about right. In that case we mark on that negative in some way the tint or step or letter in the actinometer at which we arrested action, and henceforth, no matter the time of year, hour of the day, or latitude, that negative will give a similar print if stopped in accordance with that memorandum which it bears. If, however, we do not hit the right exposure the first time, we are pretty certain to do so the second, or at the most the third time, and having done so, we have not only an infallible guide for all subsequent prints from that same negative, but we have also some sort of index to base our calculations on for other negatives. Thus if we at once proceed to print from another negative, that is, before any considerable alteration takes place in the light, we may by comparing the negatives at least estimate what will probably be the second negative's printing letter or step on the actinometer. Sooner or later every negative (especially those from which we anticipate wanting subsequent prints) should bear either on the negative itself, or else in a carefully kept register or note book its correct printing letter. Although this may seem a rather laborious practice, it is not so in reality, and so great is its educational power that I anticipate that after the first dozen or so negatives we shall almost dispense with the actinometer altogether, having by then trained the eye to tell when a print is finished merely by the appearance of the half-visible image. Do not let this prospect, however, tempt the beginner to dispense with this valuable help at first, for to the inexperienced eye the appearance of the platinotype image is very deceptive, and having under-exposed the first print, it will not be safe to judge the extra printing of the next print only by the eye; the beginner is nearly certain to err, and the eye must not be trusted until it has had considerable training. After having had some considerable and varied experience in platinotype printing, one feels no little regret that an operation which has become so simple cannot be laid before a beginner in a more precise and definite manner, and I can only assure my reader that in a very little while what may now look like a very serious business, only surmountable by long and serious practice, will become a sort of intuitive faculty, and just as one feels after a little practice the precise amount of pressure which one should use when the fingers are placed on the notes of the piano, so just the right _visible_ depth of print required to give a developed print of such and such intensity comes to be a matter of instinct. It may here be stated that paper which has been affected by damp gives a slightly less visible image than dry paper. But moisture alone without oxalate will effect partial development, and if the time of exposure to light be so greatly prolonged, that despite all precautions moisture obtains access to the print during exposure, this may, as it were, start a kind of local development whilst the paper is still in the frame and printing, so that on looking at the print to watch its progress some of the deeper shadows may have sprung quite suddenly into a deep blackish-grey colour. In many cases this will quite spoil the finished result, whilst in others no harm seems to be done when the print is ultimately developed. Remembering that the high-lights and indeed some of the lighter tints of the print are quite invisible until after development, care should be taken to look at the paper only in decidedly subdued light, or better still, artificial light, because the injury which is being done by even a short exposure to actinic light is not made manifest until after development, and as most of us know how soon a piece of silver paper will discolour in even moderately faint daylight, we should be additionally cautious with platinotype paper which is from twice to three times as sensitive to light. [Illustration: Fig. 4.] SOME POINTS TO BE CONSIDERED WITH REGARD TO DEVELOPMENT. To avoid confusion it will be well to repeat here that at present we are only considering the practice of what is known as the cold-bath paper. This term is applied only in a comparative sense. The older hot-bath process requires the developing bath to be raised to a temperature of about 170° F., whereas the best temperature for the cold process is about 70° F. or even less; nevertheless, the cold-bath paper _may_ be developed in an oxalate bath of 170° or even hotter, so also it may be developed on a solution which is quite cold. The result of altering the temperature is two-fold and may be stated thus:--_The colder the bath_, the _colder_ the colour, that is, the _bluer_ the greys and blacks, also development is slower and takes longer, and the contrasts harder. _The hotter the bath_ the warmer or browner the colour of the print; the more sudden the development and the greater the amount of half-tone and consequent softer contrasts. With these maxims in mind some amount of control may be exercised over the prints produced, especially as regards arresting development at any point desired if a cold developer be used, but in such case the print must be instantly removed to and plunged into the acid bath, until which immersion development continues, even after the print has been removed from the bath. Development, as a general rule, should be conducted in feeble daylight or artificial light. Development need not take place immediately, but at some subsequent time, provided the prints be meanwhile stored in a calcium tube and in every way rigorously protected from damp. The proportions which I have given for the oxalate of potash bath represent the standard developer as given by the makers of the paper for the hot-bath papers, and they recommend that this be diluted to about half strength for cold-bath papers. Personally, I use it at full strength for the cold process, and see no reason for diluting it. It may be said that such a course is calculated to give strong, vigorous prints, for generally speaking, the stronger the bath, the stronger the contrasts of the print. The difference, however, produced by altering the strength of the bath is not very great. There are two alternatives to the oxalate of potash developer, both possessing certain, if not very strongly marked characteristics. The first of these is known as the "D" salts. These are sold in tins by the Platinotype Company, and consist of a loose admixture of certain salts, and hence it is essential that the entire contents of a half-pound tin be dissolved at once and kept thus as a stock solution. The proportions to be used are as follows: Dissolve 1/2 lb. of D salts in 50 ozs. water, and then take equal portions of this solution and water, in other words, dilute it to half-strength. The "D" salts are said to give colder colours and more half-tone, but the colour derived from development on the first-named oxalate bath may be made colder by adding to 20 parts of developer 1 part of a saturated solution of oxalic acid, in like manner slightly warmer colour may be obtained if the oxalate bath be made alkaline by the addition of carbonate of potash, but only just enough should be added to turn a red litmus test paper blue. If prints developed on D salts should appear mealy or granulated, the bath should be strengthened or used at the full strength of the stock solution (salts 1/2 lb. to water 50 oz.). Another developer, the effect of which is to minimize half-tone and increase the vigour of the contrasts, and so give very brilliant and even hard blacks and whites, is as follows: Oxalate of potash 16 ozs. Phosphate of potash 4 ozs. Sulphate of potash 1/2 oz. Water 120 ozs. This should be made with hot water, and to get the full advantage of its contrast-giving powers, used quite cold. Development will then probably take one or two minutes, but can be arrested sooner when the desired effect is attained. It may now be as well to enumerate and describe the various kinds of platinotype paper obtainable, and whilst the general treatment of them all is the same as described in the foregoing, some special recommendations may be made in each case. The papers for the Cold-Bath process are two called respectively AA and CC. AA is a smooth surface paper and is the kind usually employed for portraiture and general small work. CC is a heavier, stronger paper with a surface similar to stout cartridge or drawing paper. For pictorial work and for landscapes, also for large portraits or heads this paper is eminently suitable. Next we have the papers for Hot-Bath process, to be presently described. These are firstly A and C, both precisely the same in character as the AA and CC just referred to, but intended to be developed in a bath at high temperature. These four kinds of paper all yield a picture of the normal platinotype black colour, the black tending to cooler or warmer tints according to slight modifications of treatment, but it is also possible to produce a platinotype print of a rich sepia brown by using the papers S and RS--these both in substance and character corresponding with AA or A and CC or C respectively. Thus we have a thin smooth and a thick rough paper for each Cold bath, Hot bath, and for Sepia printing. DEVELOPMENT OF HOT-BATH AND SEPIA PAPERS. With the Hot-Bath papers perhaps the precautions against damp should be rather more stringent than for Cold-Bath papers, certainly they may not be relaxed, and in the sepia papers, S and RS, there seems to be even greater susceptibility still, but for this, printing and development are performed precisely as already described, but the temperature of the oxalate bath should not be less than 150° to 170°, whilst in some cases it may be convenient to raise it still higher. The oxalate solution should, moreover, always be at full strength, namely, 1/2 lb. in 25 ozs. of water or thereabouts, a much more diluted bath will result in granular prints. As a general rule the colour of A and C prints is a rather browner black than their cold-bath equivalents--AA and CC--with also rather softer contrasts. Development takes place in shorter time than with cold-bath papers, and is indeed so instantaneous that any control is next to impossible. On this account, rather more dexterity will be required in development, that is to say, between the time that one end of the print touches the developer and the rest of the print is brought into contact with it, the shortest possible time should elapse. There must be no hesitation, the whole surface must be brought down gradually but swiftly, and accompanied by a sliding movement in order to squeeze out or wipe out any air bubbles which might cling to the surface of the paper. If this be not done evenly and continuously, it is more than likely that there will be marks of unequal development on the surface. [Illustration: Fig. 5.] It is no uncommon thing for the tyro to let the print hover over the bath before giving it its plunge in the hot solution, but in so doing it should be remembered that he is submitting it to the direct action of the steam which the bath is giving off, and so exposing it to damp. Whilst with prints of 1/2-plate size and under it may be sufficient to hold the print by one corner and wipe it across the surface of the solution, pressing it down with the fingers of the other hand, with larger sizes it will be well to cultivate a little trick in manipulation, and the accompanying figure may perhaps be suggestive (Fig. 5), in which it will be seen the left hand is bringing one end of the print into contact with the bath, whilst the right hand holds the opposite end above and well back, and the left hand will next be moved in the direction of the arrow, drawing the print with it along the surface of the bath, the right hand following but simultaneously lowering the whole of the print--thus the solution attacks the print smoothly and continuously, whilst the air is pressed out in the opposite direction. Instantly the entire print is floating on the bath it should be moved about a little, as a further means of disengaging any air bubbles. As far as possible, prevent the developer from flowing over the back of the print, but this will be a far less evil than not bringing the whole printed surface immediately and at one stroke on to the developer. The print is next passed direct and without intermediate washing into the hydrochloric acid bath, as already described. The sepia papers, S and RS, are both hot-bath papers, and no special instructions need to be given as regards development, except that to get the full benefit of the sepia tint and secure a fine rich bright colour, the Special Sepia Solution prepared and supplied by the Platinotype Company should be employed in the developer. Of this, one or two drams should be added to each ounce of oxalate bath, either before heating it in the dish or afterwards and just before floating the prints. In the latter case stir the whole so as to get it equally mixed, and wipe the surface to remove any scum. A good substitute for the bath as above prepared for sepia prints may be made by adding one part of saturated solution of oxalic acid to each ten parts of oxalate of potash solution. The Sepia papers are rather more sensitive to light than the Black papers, and hence all operations should be conducted in very subdued daylight, a precaution even extending to the first acid bath. The bath containing the special solution should be used for sepia prints only, and when done with kept in a separate bottle for future use, but the bottle must be kept from the light, and the sediment which will fall should be left undisturbed at the bottom of the bottle or filtered out, and the dish used for sepia development should be well washed before using it for black prints. Opinions seem to differ as to the wisdom of keeping old developing baths, but as far as my own experience goes I use the oxalate solution for black prints again and again, taking no heed of its discoloured condition. After developing, the bath is poured into the stock bottle, and so long as undissolved crystals remain at the bottom of the bottle hot water may be added from time to time to make up the loss occasioned by spilling and waste, thus the stock solution is always a combination of old and freshly-dissolved oxalate, and I have had one large jar of solution thus in very frequent use for over twelve months, a greenish-black encrustation gradually accumulating at the bottom without detriment. CONCERNING THE HYDROCHLORIC CLEARING OR FIXING BATH. Little needs to be said as to the Hydrochloric Acid bath into which the prints are passed immediately after development. The purpose of the acid bath is to dissolve out the sensitive salts which have been unaffected by light and which are still light-sensitive, the removal of these making the paper white and clean. Thus the acid bath is both fixing and clearing in its action. Into the first acid bath the prints will carry a good deal of the oxalate solution in which they have been developed, and it therefore soon becomes very much discoloured, wherefore after a lapse of about five minutes the print should be removed to a second acid bath of the same strength as the first (pure hydrochloric acid 1 part, water 70 parts) and after five or ten minutes into a third. After the prints (many may be done at the same time) have been in the third acid for five minutes, the bath should be examined, and if it is quite colourless, that is if the prints have not discoloured it at all, we may rest satisfied that clearing and fixation are complete, but if not, yet another acid bath should be given. Whilst five or ten minutes in each acid bath is long enough, probably no harm to the print itself, yet no good, will follow a longer immersion. There may, however, be a danger of softening or rotting the paper, a danger which is increased should the bath be made stronger in acid. If a number of prints are being made, or if numerous dishes for acid constitute a difficulty or inconvenience, we may modify procedure as follows:-- Make up the first acid bath to about half the prescribed strength, say hydrochloric acid one part to water 120 to 140 parts. Into this each print may be flung as soon as developed, until the entire batch is thus far finished. In this weak acid bath the prints will take no harm if left for several hours, when an acid bath (one to seventy) of full strength having been prepared, the first weak solution may be poured off and the fresh poured on. In this the prints should be separately turned over, so that each receives thorough treatment, when the second bath may be thrown away and a third substituted. One dish thus serves for the whole series of acid baths. If adopting this course, it will be safer not to mix sepia and ordinary black prints in the same _first_ acid bath, after which, however, they may be treated altogether. Sufficient washing to rid the paper of acid is all that is required to complete operations; but acid does not cling to the print as does hypo, moreover, we have not an absorbent gelatine surface to deal with, so that if prints were dealt with individually and washed by hand, probably a few minutes sluicing under a tap would suffice, but in a properly constructed print-washer, or even a large dish, twenty minutes to half-an-hour should be ample. If any doubt is felt, the last washing water may be tested with blue litmus paper. MODIFICATIONS IN DEVELOPMENT. To impart a warmer and richer tone to prints on CC (cold-bath) paper, the following slight modification may be resorted to, but it must be regarded merely as an exception for definite purposes, being in violation of the instructions and rules already laid down. It consists of developing CC paper as though it were hot-bath paper, using a bath of about 170° F and submitting it to the influence of damp to a slight degree. This latter very heterodox course may be effected by leaving the paper laid out all night in a room where there has been no fire to dry the air, or by using paper which has been kept for a week or so in its tube without calcium chloride and without sealing the lid, or yet again, the print may be held over the steam of the developer for a few minutes before developing it. It must be remembered that in doing this we are taking liberties with the process, and if poor, "muddy" prints result, we can only blame ourselves, but as a rule this will not be the case, the effect being rather to impart a slight creamy tone to the whites without otherwise degrading their brilliance, whilst the use of a hot bath gives the whole a distinctly brown-black image, which combined with the cream tint of the high-lights has a very luminous and warm effect. Another method of development which must also be taken as an exceptional one, only to be used in special cases to attain special ends, is local development with a brush, using glycerine as a medium. As may have been seen from the foregoing descriptions, the development of a platinotype print, even with a cold bath, is so rapid that there is not a possibility of developing one portion more than another, or if such could be done, still it would be done with the certainty of leaving a mark where development had been stopped. These difficulties, however, may be overcome by the use of glycerine, the effect of which is to retard development to almost any degree, and by its soft, viscid character to soften and blend the line of demarcation where greater or less development ceased. The method of applying it is as follows: On removing the print from the frame it should be fastened to a board with pins, print side upwards. Next pour on to the surface a small pool of _pure_ glycerine, and with the finger tip, a brush or soft pad, spread it _evenly_ and thinly over the print. It must not be allowed to remain on the surface in irregular patches of unequal depth, but after spreading it had better be wiped with a fresh pad of cotton wool, so as to remove any superfluous glycerine. Now have four small vessels at hand, and into No. 1 place an ounce or two of the ordinary oxalate developing solution, in No. 2 put equal parts of oxalate solution and glycerine, in No. 3 one part oxalate solution and two parts glycerine, and in No. 4 pure glycerine. With a broad, soft hair brush apply the contents of No. 3 to the less printed portions of the image and wait results. These portions will presently begin to gain in depth and to slowly develop up, now spread the No. 3 mixture to the rest of the print and apply the contents of No. 2 to the portions first treated with No. 3. The most obstinate parts may be touched with No. 1, plain oxalate solution, whilst any spots which have come up too quickly may be promptly arrested from further progress by the application of pure glycerine. Here we have a method of developing up any one part, and restraining or entirely stopping any other. I do not think any good will be done by a more detailed description of its working, even if there be anything more to tell. It is essentially a method of development in which the individual worker will invent modifications and dodges for himself, and when all is said for it, it must be admitted only as a means of improving a subject when ordinary procedure fails. THE CHARACTER OF THE NEGATIVE FOR PLATINOTYPE. In the earlier days of platinotype printing it was generally insisted upon that the most suitable negatives were such as we should describe as somewhat vigorous or "plucky." Whether it is that some alteration has been made in the manufacture of the paper or that taste as regards what constitutes a good print has changed, I cannot say. Certain it is that in the experience of a good many, a "plucky" negative is by no means essential to the production of a good platinotype print. The soft, delicate negatives, of which the best professional portrait negatives are a good sample, yield the best possible results, whilst with the CC paper, negatives so thin and delicate as to be suitable for hardly any other printing process, give all that can be wished for. Much, of course, will depend on the kind of print desired and the paper used, and here it may be remarked that from a given negative the different kinds of platinotype paper give different results. From a given negative the hot-bath papers yield the greatest amount of half-tone, the hot development tending to yield flatter results. Next comes the smooth, cold-bath paper, and finally as yielding the maximum amount of vigour is the CC paper. Hence if we make our negatives specially for our chosen printing process, a stronger negative will be needed for S, RS, A and C than for the AA and CC, whilst for the latter a negative distinctly erring on the side of extreme thinness will be best. If a negative gives prints which are too weak and flat for our purpose, a great improvement may be effected by printing through blue glass. If on the other hand the prints are too hard and harsh in contrast, it is advisable to print through "signal" green glass. TONING PLATINOTYPE PRINTS. Several formula and methods have been published from time to time, the object of which is to change the colour of the platinotype print by subsequent staining or toning, and whilst by such methods pleasing colours may sometimes be obtained, they possess an element of uncertainty, and must not be too much relied upon. An exception in this respect must, however, be made in the case of what is known as Packham's method, the effect of which is to change the black platinotype to a sepia brown, or a brown slightly tinged with green. The necessary "tinctorial powder" must be obtained from Mr. Packham or through a dealer. To prepare the bath a packet of this powder is dissolved by boiling for three or four minutes in five fluid ounces of water, to which when cold add one ounce methylated spirit. This forms the stock solution and will keep for a long time if well corked. For use add thirty or forty minims of the stock solution to one pint of water, and in this steep the prints, turning them over frequently. Toning may occupy several hours. To expedite matters, the dilute solution should be made with water of 150° F., and the bath maintained at this temperature as in the case of hot-bath development. As soon as the desired tint is secured, remove the prints and wash well in three changes of cold water. Prints may be so treated at any time after they have been made. Glycerine developed prints are not suitable. Prints must have been very thoroughly washed, so as to free them from every trace of acid, also thoroughly fixed in acid if they are to be "toned" by Packham's method. If after "toning" and washing the whites of the print appear to have suffered, the prints should be placed for five or ten minutes in the following bath, which should be kept at a temperature of 180° F. Castille soap 40 grains Bicarbonate of soda 80 grains Water, hot (180° F.) 1 pint This will clear the whites and intensify the colour generally. Platinotypes may be toned to a red-brown by uranium nitrate, or to a bluer colour with chloride of gold. They may also be intensified by pyrogallic acid or hydroquinone, but as the purpose of this article was merely to give simple working instructions for platinotype printing for the beginner, he may defer the consideration of such side issues until he has become _au fait_ in the production of a good platinotype print. _A. Horsley Hinton._ _Contact Printing on Bromide Paper._ [Illustration] It is well to bear in mind at the outset that bromide paper is extremely sensitive to light, almost as much so as is a rapid dry plate. For this reason, it is obvious that it must not be carelessly exposed to actinic light. All manipulations except the actual printing must be conducted by red or yellow light, such as is allowed to pass through glass of these colours. For evenness of result, it is better to use a lantern than daylight, because the fluctuation in intensity of the latter is very misleading and liable to lead to failures through over or under development. The actual colour of the light, also, is of far more importance than one would suppose: ruby light tends to give one the impression that development is complete long before that is the actual case; it is also somewhat more difficult to handle the paper satisfactorily by this light than by a good yellow. For these and other reasons I strongly recommend the use of yellow light, a thoroughly safe one being given by gas or lamplight passing through one sheet of yellow glass and one thickness of "canary medium." This light, while being absolutely safe, gives such perfect illumination that it is as easy to control and estimate results as it would be by ordinary unfiltered gaslight. If a ruby glazed lantern is already in use for negative work, it can readily be prepared for bromide printing by merely removing the ruby glass and substituting the yellow and canary medium. With these brief hints as to illumination, let us consider the entire process in its various stages. _Unpacking the Paper._--The sensitive paper is generally packed in envelopes sufficiently opaque to protect it from the admission of light. The packet must be opened in the dark-room from which _all_ light (even stray streaks beneath the door) is excluded, excepting only that given by the yellow glazed lantern. The outer envelope being carefully undone, an inner cover will be found and these wrappers should be placed on a dry table while a sheet of the paper is removed. It is a good plan to have a "light-tight" box (obtainable from any dealer) in which to put the paper after unpacking it; this prevents loss of time and awkwardness of handling in having to replace the paper in its wrappers each time a piece is withdrawn for use. When several prints from one or more negatives are required, it is an excellent thing to have two of these boxes, one for the unexposed paper and one in which to put the prints as made until all are ready for development. _The Class of Negative._--Bromide paper gives us a great command over results; in fact, so vast is the control we may exercise that it is possible to secure good results from almost all classes of negatives, from mere ghosts to those with density almost equal to that of a brick wall. But there is, of course, a class of negative that gives a good result with the least expenditure of skill, such a one is generally known as of average density, having a full scale of gradation with high-lights dense, yet not so opaque as to prevent you seeing a window clearly defined when looking towards it _through_ the densest parts of the film, such as the sky, for instance. Another way to test the density is to put the negative, film side down, on some large print on white paper, the large letters should be just visible through the sky, but the smaller print should not be readable. That is the class of negative usually considered in Instructions for Use, as an "average" negative. _The Sensitive Side of the Paper._--A difficulty sometimes occurs in telling which is the sensitive side of the paper: this may be easily ascertained by the appearance of the edge, which turns slightly inwards _towards_ the sensitive side. This is quite apparent to the sense of touch as well as sight. Some people moisten their finger and thumb and squeeze the paper and see which sticks (the sensitive side), but that is a dirty method and quite unnecessary. _Printing from the Negative._--Having unpacked the paper, after making sure that all but the yellow (or ruby) light has been excluded from the room, we are ready to print. For this purpose, different workers favour different classes of light: one prefers gaslight, another swears by magnesium ribbon, and some even prefer the light of day. Personally, I favour ordinary gaslight passed through a No. 5 Bray's burner, because it is quite rapid enough for all practical purposes and is perfectly under control and free from serious variation. [Illustration: Fig. 1.] The burner should be within easy reach of the worktable and should be fitted with a byepass to obviate the necessity of continually striking matches. Several years ago I had my bromide printing rooms fitted with an excellent lantern of this class in which the byepass was connected to two jets (one inside and the other outside the lantern) in such a way as to turn down the white light with the same movement that raised the coloured light, and _vice versa_. By this means no gas was wasted and the simple action of pulling or pushing a lever operated either light at will. By placing the same lever "amidships," both jets were lowered to the point of invisibility and could so remain for days at a time, yet always ready at a moment's notice. The accompanying sketch (fig. 1) will give some idea of its construction. If the dark-room is small, and space is an object, the sink may be fitted with a wooden cover and this may be used as a table for printing the paper, but care must be observed to avoid the slightest moisture upon it or satisfactory work is impossible and the negatives may be ruined. In a large room, it is much better to have an ordinary kitchen table removed some distance from the sink; with this and a comfortable chair bromide printing is a very pleasant occupation. The following sketch (fig. 2) will explain the arrangement of the table, and it applies equally well to the movable top of the sink. [Illustration: Fig. 2.] Supposing that some arrangement of this sort is devised, we must unpack some bromide paper and put it in its box and then put a negative of "average" density in an ordinary printing frame. On the film side of the negative we must now place a sheet of bromide paper with its sensitive side in contact, replace the back of the frame and it is ready for exposure. Before exposing it, _make sure that both boxes are shut_ or their contents will be ruined the moment the white light is turned up. Upon reference to the instructions that accompany each packet of bromide paper, you will observe a certain number of seconds' exposure is advised at a certain distance from the light; in the case of the Barnet extra rapid paper the time is given as about four seconds at a distance of eighteen inches. When all is ready for exposure, place the printing frame upright opposite the lantern at the mark indicating eighteen inches (see fig. 2), note the time on the seconds hand of the clock and throw the lever over for white light for four seconds and then reverse it. Remove the paper and if many are likely to be required from that negative, it would be well to develop the first print in order to judge as to the accuracy of the exposure. If over or under-exposed, the time must be reduced or lengthened as required. When the best time and distance has been ascertained for a certain negative, mark it with a narrow strip of paper bearing full particulars for future guidance, such as: "4 sec., 18 in., No. 5 Bray;" in this way absolute correctness of future exposures is assured. Of course, if gas is not obtainable, magnesium ribbon may be used instead. In this case the negative would be marked "1 inch (or more) ribbon, 3 ft. distant," as the case may be. _Using Masks and Discs._--Prints are sometimes required with an oval (or square) centre and white margins: this is effected by interposing a black mask of the desired size and shape (obtainable from all dealers) between the negative and the sensitive paper. The black paper prevents the passage of light and leaves white margins to the print. If grey margins are required, a disc (to fit the mask) is attached to a sheet of glass the same size as the negative and arranged so that registration is easily effected; the print is first made with a mask and is then placed in contact with the disc and plain glass (the negative being removed from the frame), and again exposed for a second to the light. If a black border is required the exposure of the margin must be extended three or four seconds. _Vignetting._--To vignette bromide prints, the printing frame must be covered with a piece of cardboard in which a small hole (about 1-1/2 inches by 1 inch for a cabinet head and bust) is pierced. The hole _must_ be covered with a sheet of white tissue paper which will diffuse the light and cause it to travel without harsh lines beneath the opening, and make the print with perfectly gradated edges. It is sometimes an advantage to move the negative while printing vignettes; but it is not absolutely essential if the hole in the cardboard is not too large and if the card is removed some little distance from the negative. If the card is too close to the negative, the gradation will be abrupt and the vignette will not look well. _Cloud Printing._--This requires some care in order to avoid harshness and sharply defined lines. If the sky of the negative prints white, the addition of clouds from another negative is not difficult; but if it is at all thin, the entire sky must be carefully painted out with a deeply opaque pigment in order to make it quite dense and unprintable. As a bromide print cannot be examined while in progress: that is, cannot be seen at all before development, careful registration is desirable in order to prevent printing the clouds across the landscape instead of above it. To do this an opaque mask should be made thus: Make a print from the negative on P.O.P. and, without fixing or toning it, cut it carefully in two parts following the horizon line as nearly as possible, then expose to light, until quite black, that part representing the landscape. Attach this to the glass side of the cloud negative (with the paper side of the P.O.P. in contact) and see that the bottom edge and the right corner of the paper and glass (viewed from the glass side of the negative) exactly coincide. To make use of this arrangement, you first make a print from the landscape negative, making sure that the negative and paper are firmly pressed against the bottom and left-hand side of the printing frame when looking towards the film side of the negative; mark the registered corner with lead pencil thus =L= in order to prevent mistakes in the second printing. To print the clouds, you put the negative in the frame and press it well home to the left-hand corner and the base of frame (looking at the film side, of course), and then put the print in contact with the same precaution and replace the back. Now take a piece of brown paper with one edge roughly torn in shape of the horizon line of the mask and cover the entire negative on the glass side. Hold the covered frame in your hands at a distance of (say) four feet from the gas and turn on the white light. Directly the light is up, draw the paper slowly downwards until the horizon line is just passed, and then _immediately_ begin to slowly push it upwards towards the top of the sky. Do this steadily and slowly for (say) four to six seconds, according to the density of the cloud negative. With a good thin cloud, four seconds should be quite enough, but you can easily settle this point on developing the first print. _Printing from Dense Negatives._--Dense negatives require much longer exposures than those of "average" (or ideal) density. This may often be prolonged to twice or three times the normal exposure at the same distance. A yellow coloured negative increases the exposure greatly, as much as ten to thirty times the normal frequently being requisite to get a decent print. An over dense negative that gives very harsh prints by other printing processes can be made to yield prints of exquisite softness on bromide paper by giving a full exposure at a _short_ distance from the gas. [Illustration: CUPBOARD LOVE. T. LEE SYMS.] _Printing from Thin Negatives._--Thin negatives on the other hand, require quite different treatment. In order to get plucky prints from very thin negatives, useless in other processes, we must give a very brief exposure at some distance from the gas; and here it may be well to note that removing the negative to a greater distance from the light is equal to decreasing the actual time of exposure and has other advantages in connection with thin negatives with which theory does not seem to agree. To print from a very thin negative, then, instead of four seconds at eighteen inches, let us cover it with a sheet of tissue paper and give it four seconds at a distance of three or four feet and note the result on development. If it appears to be over-exposed, we may reduce the time of exposure to three seconds at the same distance and modify the developer, as will be explained later on. _Development of Prints._--All my remarks in this article apply equally to most commercial brands of bromide paper; but it is only fair to state that they are particularly intended for that made by the firm of manufacturers publishing this book. Development, and so on, is very similar with all makes of paper, but most of my recent experiments have been made on the "Barnet" matt surface bromide. I shall presently describe the use of several well-known developers, but it must be well understood that, whatever formula is adopted, a preliminary soaking of the print before development must be done. When we are about to develop a number of prints we must first soak them in plain cold water until quite flaccid, otherwise the application of the developer would cause the dry print to cockle and curl, and the development would not be regular. This rule applies equally in the case of one print only as when a hundred are ready for development; a prolonged soaking in plain water having no ill effect. _The Iron Developer._--This is one of the developers most frequently recommended for bromide work, but personally I never advise its use (especially by a novice) because the use of the acid clearing bath, which is an essential part of the process, is so frequent a cause of disaster and yellow prints. The Barnet formula is as follows:-- A. Potassium oxalate 1 lb. Potassium bromide 5 grains Hot water 48 ozs. B. Iron sulphate 1 lb. Citric acid 4 drams. Hot water 32 ozs. To six ounces of A, add one ounce of B; this order of mixing must be observed or a dense precipitate of ferrous oxalate will be formed. Place one of the soaked prints face (which may be distinguished by its "slippery" surface) upwards in a clean porcelain dish and pour the developer over it as evenly as possible. With this developer, the image comes up very rapidly, so that it is not advisable to try and develop more than one at a time. If the first print of a batch appears to be over-exposed, that is, if it flashes out instantly and the high-lights become rapidly clouded, add to each ounce of mixed developer from 10 to 30 drops of a ten per cent. solution of potassium bromide which will act as a restrainer, retard development, and keep the high-lights clear while the shadows acquire density. Under-exposed prints can rarely be made to give passable results with ferrous oxalate. The addition of a trace of hypo to the developer has been recommended for bringing up their detail, but the result is far from good. As soon as development is complete the prints must _not_ be put in clean water, but must be transferred direct from the developer to the following acid bath:-- Acetic acid 1 dram Water 32 ounces After an immersion of one minute, the operation must be twice repeated in similar baths that have not been previously used; this is to remove the iron from the print. A thorough washing must next be given to remove the acid and the print may then be fixed for at least fifteen minutes in Hypo 2 ounces Water 20 ounces After fixing (no matter what developer has been used) the prints must be thoroughly washed in several changes of water for at least two hours. The chief reasons against the use of ferrous oxalate are lack of control over development and the necessary use of an acid bath. Unless the acid bath is used, the prints will be yellow because of the iron in them, and if the acid is not entirely removed before fixing the prints will be yellow owing to the decomposition of the hypo by the acid in the print which causes deposition of sulphur. _Metol Developer._--With this, and the other developers I shall mention, an acid bath is not necessary and so one cause of failure (and extra work) is obviated. I have somewhat amended the Barnet formula to meet the needs of workers on a small scale and have also arranged A and B to balance each other without disturbing the relative proportions of the ingredients. A. Metol 120 grains Water (cold) 24 ounces Dissolve _completely_ and then add Sodium sulphite 2-1/2 ounces Potassium bromide 15 grains Shake until completely dissolved but do not apply heat. B. Potassium carbonate 350 grains Water 8 ounces For use, mix three parts by measure of A and one part of B. With this developer and a normal exposure, the image should appear in a few seconds and development should be complete in about two minutes. As fast as the prints are developed they should be immersed in Salt 2 ounces Water 20 ounces to stop development. When all are developed, they must be rinsed for a minute or two in clean water and then fixed. Over-exposure is remedied by the addition of potassium bromide solution (as in the case of ferrous oxalate); under-exposed prints should be developed in a weak solution such as A 3 parts B 1 part Water 4 parts Development will take longer, but the weaker solution will help to bring up the detail without the harshness of the shadows that would be the case if the normal developer was used. _Hydroquinone and Eikonogen._--The advantage of combining eikonogen with quinol lies in the fact that one provides what the other lacks, the eikonogen tending to give detail without density and the quinol (in inexperienced hands) giving density without detail. The following formula will be found very satisfactory:-- A. Quinol 40 grains Eikonogen 120 " Sodium sulphite 480 " Citric acid 20 " Water to 20 ounces Dissolve the sodium sulphite and citric acid in 15 ounces of water, then add the other ingredients and enough water to make a total bulk of 20 ounces. B. Sodium carbonate 60 grains Sodium hydrate 30 " Potassium bromide 5 " Water to 20 ounces For use, mix one part of A, one part of B and two parts of water. The same remarks as to over and under-exposure apply as in the case of metol. _Toning Bromide Prints._--The "tone" or colour of the deposit depends largely upon the accuracy of exposure and the developer employed. Ferrous oxalate gives a rich black deposit, but to my mind metol and the combined eiko-quinol give tones at least as beautiful with pretty gray half-tones. But some people prefer warmer colours, brown and red for instance, and some get brownish blacks (through over-exposure and the use of bromide) which they would like to change. The colour of the deposit may be changed in various ways by treating the print in baths of different metals. I will give a brief outline of the methods employed, leaving readers to modify them to suit each particular case. _Black and Blue-black Tone._--Brownish black prints can be much improved after fixing by immersion in a strong bath of gold chloride; the following is the strength used by me:-- A. Ammonium sulphocyanide 20 grains Water 1 ounce B. Gold chloride 2 grains Water 1 ounce When quite dissolved add B very gradually to A, shaking almost continuously. The fixed print should be washed for at least fifteen minutes before toning and should then be placed in a clean tray while the toning bath is poured over it. The solution must be kept moving and the print must be removed and washed directly the desired tone is reached. Prolonged immersion will cause the print to acquire a deep blue tone. _Brown and Red Tones with Uranium._--Prints immersed in the uranium toning bath gradually become warmer in tone, changing from black to brown and brownish red until they assume a deep red nearly approaching the well-known Bartollozzi chalk. Prints to be toned by this process must be _thoroughly_ free from hypo or stains will be the inevitable result. The toning bath should be made up as follows, and it must be used at once as it will not keep after mixing A and B:-- A. Potassium ferricyanide 20 grains Water 20 ounces Glacial acetic acid 1 ounce When quite dissolved add B. Uranium nitrate 20 grains Water 1 ounce Immerse the print and keep the solution in motion until the desired colour is produced, then wash the print for half an hour in several changes of water acidulated (1 dram in 30 ounces) with acetic acid. Weak, under-developed prints are much improved by this method of toning. At the end of half an hour, if the whites are at all yellow they may be cleared by immersing the print for a minute or two in the following bath:-- Ammonium sulphocyanide 20 grains Water 10 ounces After immersion, rinse the print for five minutes and dry. _Intensification._--It sometimes happens (especially when too little light has been used to properly judge development) that one acquires a collection of prints that, owing to under or over-development, are useless; let us see how they may be rendered serviceable. An under-developed print, though weakly looking and "washed out," simply needs intensification to give it the requisite pluck. The foregoing uranium bath acts as an intensifier while conferring a ruddy tone on the deposit. A black deposit can be obtained by intensifying the well-washed print with mercury. The print must first be immersed in a saturated solution of mercuric chloride until the image disappears; it must then be again thoroughly washed to remove all traces of free mercury and may then be redeveloped by flowing over it an old ferrous-oxalate developer. If ferrous oxalate is not at hand, an old metol developer may be substituted, but the former is the more reliable. When the image is sufficiently intense, the print must once more be thoroughly washed. All the toning and intensifying operations may be conducted by daylight. _Reduction of Density._--Over dense prints can be made fit for many purposes by means of a "reducer" capable of dissolving part of the deposit. The best for the purpose and the one least liable to cause stains is know as the Belitzski's; it is prepared thus:-- Water 60 ounces Potassium ferric oxalate 3 " Sodium sulphite 3 " Dissolve and add to the red solution so obtained. Oxalic acid 1 ounce Shake until the solution turns green and then immediately pour off the solution from any crystals remaining undissolved. To this solution add Hyposulphite of soda 15 ounces and shake until dissolved, when it is ready for use. The print to be reduced need not be free from hypo, but should be rinsed for a few minutes after fixing (or soaked until limp, if previously dried) and may then be placed in a tray and flooded with the reducer. The tray must be well rocked and the print, when sufficiently reduced, must be removed without delay and rapidly washed in running water. _Some Cheap and Useful Trays._--If large-sized prints are made, the cost of suitable trays becomes a very serious item. The expense of these may be reduced to a mere nothing, without loss of effectiveness, by the substitution of home-made ones. All that is required to make a tray of any size is a thin wooden confectionery box (or the bottom part of a larger case) lined with the shiny white marbled oilcloth known as "American moleskin." This is fitted inside the box (the corners being turned under) and secured by a row of tacks around the top edge. No further lining or preparation is required and the tray will stand all sorts of ill-treatment. As for durability: I had three such trays made out of old herring-boxes picked up at Calgary and lined with moleskin that had already seen service as cover to a wash-handstand and chest of drawers in a Canadian boardinghouse. For upwards of a year those trays were used daily and travelled many hundreds of miles by mule and dog train, and were not worn out when I returned home. My porcelain trays were smashed by a fall from a refractory mule, but the rough and ready makeshifts were a priceless boon. It seems to me that by practising economy of this kind and in various similar ways (_i.e._, where economy is necessary as, unfortunately, it sometimes is) the cost of practising our pet recreation is very materially reduced. _W. Ethelbert Henry, C.E._ _The Gum-Bichromate Process._ [Illustration] Pictorial photography is answerable for the revival of this, one of the almost forgotten methods of printing. Results unacceptable to bygone requirements have been reintroduced with advantage, where suggestive individuality and artistic effect have been desired. The gum process has an unlimited range of possibilities, it would be impossible to describe them all. The minutest details, or the broadest diffusion together with the power of working from the highest to the lowest keys of _chiaroscuro_ are values that can only be realized when the infatuation consequent on successfully working the process is experienced. This method of printing, as with the so-called "carbon process," is dependent upon the characteristic behaviour of the chromic salts when in combination with organic substances, such as gelatine, gums of various kinds, starch, etc. When any of these mixtures are submitted to the action of actinic light, they become more or less insoluble. This property was partially discovered as far back as 1798, by Vauquelin. Professor Sucrow, Mungo Ponton, Beauregard and others advanced its application to photography up to about 1840, but it was not until some ten years later that its great value as a photographic agent was definitely established. Hunt, Fox Talbot and Poitevin, each worked indefatigably to bring the application of the chromic process to a successful issue; but to Poitevin must be accredited the honour of being the original inventor of the chromated pigment or carbon process. This brings us up to about 1855. None of these investigators appear to have been remarkably successful, beyond having established definite, but valuable facts of the changes produced. This want of success may possibly be accounted for by the general employment of gelatine and direct printing. It was not until Pouncey and others, about 1859, employed gum as the colloid medium, that any great advance was made. About this time an important commission of inquiry decided that to Pouncey, Gamier and Salmon, and Beauregard the honour of producing permanent prints must be equally credited, and accordingly divided the Duc de Luyue's prize between them, giving to Poitevin the credit of the priority of invention. Pouncey appears to have followed up the process with some considerable success, as some of his existing examples are excellent; it is much to be regretted that we have not more detailed particulars of his methods of working; but he evidently was before his time and met with but little encouragement. To Alfred Maskell and M. Demachy must be accredited the revival of this long neglected process, and during the last three years much advancement has been made towards perfecting it. Serious workers, both at home and abroad, are industriously exhausting the possibilities of the process, and crude as some of the earlier examples of this revival have been, improvements and simplicity of working are giving us productions of every description, of such excellent quality that it may soon be expected to satisfy even the caustic criticism that has so persistently opposed its re-introduction. Dexterity in the various stages of practical manipulation is necessary before skilful efficiency can be secured, and in order to arrive at this, due consideration must be given to the selection of the paper the colour most suitable to the subject and the effect desired. Almost any kind of paper will be found workable, if it be of fairly good quality. Those that are thickly coated with soluble sizing media are unsuitable, for although they may give clear whites they sometimes produce harsh prints, the half-tones are also liable to be lost in development unless very deeply printed. Several of the continental kinds are well adapted to the process and work in an excellent manner, giving soft and even results; of course, it will be understood that for definition and fine detail the finer grained descriptions are the best, but where diffusion is desired those of a coarser texture may be advantageously used, they give a granulation that tends materially to secure the peculiarities of gradation characteristic of this process. A few of the continental papers that will be found to work with ease to the beginner, are as follows:-- Michallet paper is rather coarse, but takes the gum coating easily, it has a series of lines running in both directions, which are rather objectionable for some subjects; but it is an excellent paper for first experiments. Ingrés, is also a paper of similar character, and can be worked with equal facility. Lallane is another paper of the same class, but much finer. Allongé paper is entirely free from the markings peculiar to those previously mentioned. This paper is best worked on the reverse side, which can be distinguished by examining the name marked in one corner. Among the English papers the ordinary cartridge, Whatman's drawing papers and many others are adaptable, but it must be borne in mind that those with a toothed or grained surface are preferable. There are two methods of working, and results of equal excellence have been produced by either. Some of the most proficient workers of the process adopt the easier one of coating the paper, without previous preparation, with a mixture of gum, bichromate of potass and pigment. Others adopt the precaution of first saturating the paper with a strong solution of bichromate, and when dry coating it with a mixture containing only gum and pigment. Experience is in favour of the previous saturation of the paper, this is recommended especially for beginners, as there are several kinds of paper that will not work efficiently by the first method; but when skill and practical knowledge of the special behaviour of the materials employed is acquired, either method can be adopted. We may presume that the advantage of the previous saturation of the paper with the chromic salt is, that should there be any inequality in its structural character, or should it be unequally sized, the bichromate appears to act as a kind of resist to the penetration of the pigment, thereby securing an increased range of tone and a corresponding purity of the whites. The process may be divided into the following operations:-- Saturation or sensitizing of the paper. Preparation of the gum mucilage. Mixing and preparing the pigments. Coating the paper. Printing and exposure. Development. For working by the previously chromated paper method, the sensitizing solution is made up of one part of bichromate of potassium dissolved in ten parts of water. This strength will not keep at all temperatures. Should the salt crystallize out, it is necessary to warm a portion of the solution and re-dissolve the crystals. The solution may be used repeatedly, but it will be necessary to filter it occasionally. Before saturation it is convenient to cut the paper into the most useful sizes--quarter sheets are handy. Having decided which is to be the working side, mark the back distinctly. Into a dish of sufficient depth pour in the one in ten bichromate solution to a depth of about one inch, and immerse your paper sheet by sheet, until you have in it all you intend to sensitize. As each sheet is placed in the solution, remove air bells and turn it over and repeat this precaution. The time necessary for immersion is of no importance so that the saturation is absolute, about five minutes being generally sufficient for the thickest of papers. By removing the bottom sheet to the top and passing through the whole in this manner, turning over each sheet and removing all air bells, even saturation is secured. Each sheet is carefully and slowly removed from the solution and dried in the dark. The paper is now very sensitive to actinic light, which must during all future operations be carefully guarded against. After the paper is dry, it will--if kept so--be in good condition for a long time. To prepare the gum mucilage, take two ounces of Soudan or Turkey gum and dissolve it in five fluid ounces of cold water, strain out the floating impurities through fine muslin, and allow others, and finer to subside. This mucilage will keep in good condition in a well-corked bottle, for a considerable time. M. Demachy employs gum mucilage of twice this density. Pigments in powder are more suitable than in any other form, if in cakes or paste. The medium in which they are prepared, does not work kindly with the gum, and it is also difficult to accurately measure quantities. No advantage is gained by using expensive colours, they can all be purchased at a good colourman's, and at a small cost. Lamp or any carbon, black, red ochre, yellow ochre, burnt sienna, and raw sienna, all work well; there is some uncertainty with the umbers and sepias. It will be found that much time will be saved if a combination of these dry colours is made up in bulk, as for instance--one hundred and seventy-five grains of vegetable black and one hundred of burnt sienna, give a rich soft brown colour. These must be finely and intimately mixed with each other, which is conveniently accomplished by grinding with a small pestle and mortar; after which the mixture may be kept in a wide-mouthed bottle. Another advantage in thus keeping combinations of dry colours in bulk, is the absolute certainty of repeating the actual tint when required. Various combinations of similar mixtures can be made. Of course it will be understood that any or all of the above-named colours may be used singly. The grinding of the pigment with the mucilage is easily done on a stone slab with a palette knife. Take half a fluid ounce of the two in five gum mucilage, to which add the same quantity of water and thoroughly mix. Weigh out fifteen grains of the mixed pigment and place in a heap on the slab, add a few drops of the diluted mucilage, grind and regrind the mixture until it is completely smooth, then remove it to a cup, and clean the stone with another portion of the reduced mucilage, finally adding the whole of the ounce, intimately mix, and it is then ready for coating the paper. For extra fine work on smooth paper, and in fact for all classes of work, the fine grinding of the colours adds materially to extend the range of gradation, and although the trituration may be carried out fairly well with a palette knife, when the finest possible grades are desired, recourse must be had to the muller and stone. Mullers are obtainable of any artist's colourman, they are made in glass, and a convenient size is about one inch in diameter. The most convenient brush for applying the mixture of combined gum and pigment to the paper, is of the description known as bear's hair, these are usually set in tin; a flat one about two inches wide is a useful size. In order to coat the paper evenly, pin it down to a drawing board by each corner with a double layer of blotting paper an inch or two larger than the paper to be coated. The blotting paper will absorb the excess of colour at the margins and enable you to secure an even coating up to the extreme edge. Take a fairly full brush of the mixture after thoroughly incorporating the colour and spread it evenly over the paper, crossing and recrossing it with the brush. Allow the mixture to lie upon the paper for a second or two so that the paper may expand; now release each of the corners and pin the paper down again. Upon the next operation depends the evenness of the coating. Take a four inch wide artist's badger's hair softener, hold it vertically and lightly by two fingers and the thumb about an inch and a half from the top of the handle, and pass it rapidly over the whole surface of the paper as quickly and evenly as possible. The motion producing the best effect is not the usual sweeping action, but a series of sudden short jerks, difficult to describe but easily acquired. Continue this softening down until the paper has an even semi-transparent surface without uneven cloudy spots. Allow it to dry spontaneously, but before it is stored for future use dry it carefully by the fire, but avoid overheating. Uncertainty of result is a defect often brought into argument against this process; but absolute uniformity is not difficult if strictly accurate quantities only are employed. With constant strength of bichromate and gum, uniform weights and combination of pigment, similarity of repeats are obtained: but these can only be secured when each sheet of paper is coated identically with its fellow. To get this evenness the badger hair softener must be washed out and dried after coating each sheet. This is very quickly accomplished by an energetic shaking and drying upon a smooth towel. If the paper has been coated properly, it has an even semi-transparent surface slightly glassy. Failures often occur from using an excess of pigment and allowing the gum to become too thick in consequence of evaporation. Excess of pigment gives dense heavy shadows and increases the difficulty of printing; excess of gum gives clear high-lights, tending to hardness and easy solubility endangering the half-tones. The paper, if it has been correctly coated will work satisfactorily, if on steeping a small piece of it downwards upon cold water, the pigmented gum dissolves and drops from the surface leaving the paper nearly clean. From ten to fifteen minutes should complete this test. The method of working without previously chromatizing the paper is as follows:--Take half a fluid ounce of four-in-ten gum mucilage and add to it an equal quantity of saturated solution of bichromate of potass; to this, with all care as to grinding and mixing, add the pigment; coat the paper as before directed. This method will be considerably slower in printing than that in which the paper had been previously saturated with the bichromate; neither are the whites as a rule quite so clear; but it will possess a peculiar grain and softness not otherwise obtainable, which is much approved by some workers of the process. Exposure is so much dependent on circumstances that it is difficult to give precise directions, being governed by the density of the negative, the thickness of the coating and the intensity of the light. Even and not too dense negatives are the more suitable, for if the intermediate and high-lights are over dense the shadows are considerably over printed before the lighter parts can be brought out. Skill in development can do much to overcome these defects, but they may be considerably modified by the judicious employment of matt varnish, and by other methods of locally retarding printing. The greatest assistance in obtaining uniformity in printing is the employment of a reliable actinometer, Wynne's print meter is probably the most useful for this purpose, with ordinary gelatino-chloride paper as a register; from twelve to sixteen numbers will be mostly sufficient for an ordinary negative, on not too thickly coated paper. Another method of judging exposure is by the appearance of the shadows; they may frequently be seen by transmitted light, and when well out printing may be judged to be correct, but this is a slovenly method and only approximately correct at the best. If the bichromate is used only in the pigmented gum, without previous saturation of the paper, exposure must be much more prolonged. By no other process is it possible to obtain such diversity of effect as by this; much will, however, depend on the skill which is exercised in development. Should the printing exposure have been fairly correct it is a simple procedure. The print is floated face downward upon cold water contained in a deep dish; see that all parts are equally acted upon by the water, and that no air bells exist; if any, they may be easily removed by gently raising the print and immersing it again once or twice. After it has been soaking some five or ten minutes it may be examined; if all is going well, and the exposure has been approximately correct, the pigmented gum on the unexposed margins will have left the paper, and possibly some of the high-lights and half-tones may be making an appearance, if so, the treatment must be of a gentle character, and the print may be safely left for some time longer in the same position face downward; never allow it to lie either in or out of the water face upwards for any long time, or unremovable stains will be developed. Many prints will develop almost entirely without assistance, or with only an occasional laving of water if allowed to lie in this position for a long time. On the other hand some may, even when only slightly over-printed, give no indication of development. When this is the case remove the print from the water and place it face upwards upon a thin, smooth board, fix it in position with one drawing pin on the extreme margin, then gently lave cold water over it; should some of the darker parts still resist this action, longer soaking will be found advantageous. If there are still parts on which the colour will not move, recourse must be had to the brush, and for this purpose nothing is better than a large camel's hair mop. Keeping the brush always full of water, touch where necessary very softly; do not sweep it up or down, but just dab here and there as may be required, constantly flowing over the surface a copious supply of water. If there are still parts in the shadows, or even in the high-lights that will not move, a jet of water from an enema syringe or from the household service pipe is very useful. As a last resource a prolonged steeping in water of varying degrees of temperature, even up to the boiling point, may be resorted to, but the application of increased temperature requires judicious management. When the print is sufficiently developed, if the creamy yellowness of the chromate stain is not desired, the print must be cleared or bleached, either in a solution of alum, sulphite of soda, or hyposulphite of soda, strength being immaterial with a careful after-washing. If the print is only just sufficient or only slightly over-printed, care must be taken that the clearing bath is not acid, neither must the washing be too prolonged, but if the print is first dried and submitted to light, this precaution is unnecessary. Always allow the prints to dry spontaneously. It will not do to use any kind of pressure or blotting paper, for the surface of the colour is very tender and delicate. _Jas. Packham, F.R.P.S._ _An Introduction to Carbon Printing for Beginners._ [Illustration] In the article that follows next will be found a complete exposition of the carbon process, with its various adaptations from the preparation of the paper and material forwards. Whilst at the present time carbon printing is more largely used by professional photographers, yet its simplicity, the absence of chemical formulæ and complications combined with the beauty of the results, makes it eminently suitable for amateur workers, and hence it has been thought desirable that as an introduction to the subsequent article, a brief and simple outline of the process should be given for the benefit of those who have not hitherto made its acquaintance. In the first place then let it be understood that in carbon printing instead of depending on light to make a visible alteration of the sensitive salts as in silver printing, we expose the prepared paper or "tissue," as it is called, under a negative and secure a positive in insoluble gelatine, the gelatine having combined with it a pigment, and hence we get an image in pigment, not in platinum, or silver, or gold, but in a simple pigment which may be of any colour. If bichromate of potash is mixed with an organic substance such as gelatine, that gelatine becomes insoluble after exposure to light, and if that gelatine carries with it a pigment, then on becoming insoluble it holds the pigment with it. If now, paper or other material be coated with bichromate, gelatine, and pigment, and exposed to light under a negative in the usual way, the thin portions of the negative will admit of the light acting on this coating and making it insoluble, whilst the parts which are protected from light, as for instance the sky or white objects, will remain unchanged and soluble, and on being washed in water will dissolve away, leaving white paper, whilst the light-affected portions which have become insoluble remain in proportion as the light has penetrated the various densities of the negative. This then is how we obtain our print. For fuller explanation of the paper or "tissue" and its manufacture the reader is referred to the next article. The beginner will certainly first obtain his tissue ready made, and he can purchase it ready sensitized or otherwise. The former will be best at the outset, but it must be borne in mind that it should not be kept longer than can be helped before use, and never more than ten to fourteen days at the utmost. Various shades of blacks, browns, and reds are the usual colours, also grey, green, and blue. The tissue is rather more sensitive to light than silver paper, and should therefore be opened and handled in subdued light. It must be kept as dry as possible. A rather vigorous negative is best for carbon printing, one not too strong in contrasts. Before placing the negative in the frame, we must give it what is termed a "safe edge." This is done by making a narrow border, say of about a quarter of an inch or less, round the negative, either on the glass or film side, with opaque black varnish, or it may be done by gumming on narrow strips of paper, such as lantern-slide binders. If binders and not black varnish are used, they must be applied to the glass side. The Carbon printing paper which will hereinafter be called the "tissue" will be found to present an unpromising appearance, and as the coating is the full colour of the pigment in which the print is eventually to appear, it follows that the progress of printing will not be visible, and a mechanical means of gauging the exposure must be resorted to. An actinometer, similar to that described in the article on Platinotype, will do, and another and simpler form is described in the next article. Printing will occupy about one-third of the time occupied by gelatino-chloride of silver paper. Development is conducted in daylight, but not too close to a window. The absence of chemical solutions has been suggested as an advantage, in this process the developer being merely hot water. It is not necessary to have this laid on, a can of hot water close at hand and a kettle on the fire or gas stove not far off are all that are required. We shall require four or five dishes, one at least of which should be a good deal larger than the size of the prints we are to develop and several inches deep--a good-sized pie-dish or a basin will do. Development merely consists of washing away the unaffected and therefore soluble coating, but it must be remembered that the less affected portions representing the half-tones have received their modicum of light on the surface, and therefore the soluble part of the film is underneath the part that has like a surface skin become insoluble. This necessitates the printed film or tissue being transferred to another paper or "support," so that we may develop or wash away from the back. In procuring your carbon tissue order at the same time a packet of Single Transfer Paper, which is paper with a thin coating of hard gelatine. Now to proceed. Place a piece of single transfer paper into a dish of cold water, and in three or four minutes the coated side will feel slimy, then place in the same dish a piece of the printed tissue face upwards. This will probably curl up at first and afterwards flatten out again. When this has happened or in a few minutes after immersion bring the piece of single transfer paper and the print together, film to film, so that they may be in contact, and square one with the other. Now holding them by one edge, withdraw them together by sliding them out of the dish on to a sheet of thick glass, a large cutting glass serves well, or stout sheet of zinc. This should be supported in readiness at the rim of the dish. Having the transfer paper and print now on the glass or zinc, hold them firmly and with a rubber squeegee press them closely into contact, squeezing as much water out as possible. A better way perhaps is, if the dish is large enough, to place the glass or zinc under the two papers whilst in the water and so raise them out. The squeegeeing must be done thoroughly, firmly, and all over--several strokes being given in each direction. Next lift the papers, now in firm contact and sticking together, and place them between blotting paper on which is a heavy weight. The next print may now be proceeded with and so on. The print should be between blotting paper and under pressure for about twenty minutes, after which it is removed to a dish of hot water--almost as hot as the hands can comfortably bear, say 100° to 120° F. After lying in this for a few moments the dark pigment will be seen to be oozing out from between the two papers. When this has begun to come pretty freely take one corner of the print and pull it away from the transfer paper. It should come quite easily, and on being peeled off entirely it is thrown away. We have now the transfer paper bearing the printed film reversed, that is, the side which was previously at the bottom and next the original paper support, is now uppermost and can therefore be got at. If we splash it or lave it with the hand, using the hot water, we shall soon see what happens. The smudgy mass of pigment begins to wash away and the picture gradually appears. This constitutes development and we continue working it with hot water until the whole is clear and bright, being careful not to touch the film with fingers or anything but water, for being in a very delicate and soft condition it would be certain to sustain injury. The hotter the water the greater its washing-off action, and hence in cases of over-exposure very hot water may go far to recover the print. When the desired result is secured, transfer the print to a dish of cold water, this instantly tends to slightly harden the film by cooling it, and after two or three minutes it is passed into a dish of alum and water, which further hardens it and also "clears" the print of any bichromate salts which may still remain. In the alum bath the print should remain until any sign of yellow stain has disappeared, when after a final rinse of a few minutes in cold water to remove the alum, the print may be hung up to dry. It will be seen that there is no prolonged washing as with those processes in which hypo is employed, and the print is absolutely permanent. It must be remembered, however, that in the finished picture we are looking at the back of the printed film as it received the light impressions from the negative, and hence the image is reversed, that is, the left is on the right and the right on the left. For landscape and views this reversed position will probably be of no importance, but if it is desired to have things right way round--in portraits it will be essential--we must either work from reversed negatives, or we must again transfer the film which will then constitute a _double_ transfer. We shall now understand why previously we called the paper to which the film was transferred _single_ transfer. Inasmuch as it will be seen that the print is not on paper, but consists of a transferable film of pigmented gelatine, it will be understood that the paper employed is merely a support to that film, hence it is customary to speak of the paper as the support, whilst moreover it maybe, and as often as not is ivory, glass, textile fabrics, wood, or other substances. If now we wish to again transfer the film so as to correct the lateral reversal, we substitute for the single transfer paper a "_temporary_ support." The temporary support which is to receive the film merely whilst it is being developed, and with the intention of its being subsequently transferred again to a _final_ support, may be paper or many other things. Moreover, remembering that the film is mainly gelatine, it should be clear that whatever the nature of the surface of the temporary support, the soft glutinous film will take that surface just as we may make the impression of a seal in sealing-wax. The normal carbon print is shiny, due to the gelatine, and so, if as a temporary support we were to use ground glass or matt "opal," the carbon print film would receive the fine granulated surface and give a matted print as a result. This merely by the way as suggesting an additional advantage offered by the double transfer process as a set-off against the slight extra trouble. If double transfer is determined upon, and it is not intended to experiment with ground glass, etc., then when purchasing the carbon tissue, some _temporary_ support (sheets of paper coated with gelatine and shellac) should be procured, also some pieces of _final_ support. Whatever the temporary support, it must receive an application of waxing solution. This also may be bought, or can be made of:-- Yellow resin 36 grains. Yellow wax 12 " Ether 2 ounces. Melt the wax, add the resin, stir together and then add the ether. Pour a little of this mixture on to the temporary support and spread with a tuft of cotton wool, and rub over to make it even. The final support for double transfer may be purchased, and is made ready for use by soaking for ten minutes in alum. The temporary support, after being waxed and the waxing solution having become dry, is to take the place of the single transfer paper in every respect, and the film developed as already described. When it has reached the final washing, after the alum clearing bath, it is brought into contact with the final support (which has been for ten minutes in alum bath as just described) and is removed to the glass or zinc plate and squeegeed. It is now hung up to dry, and when quite dry the blade of a knife should be inserted at one corner and the temporary support gently pulled off. Such is the carbon process, neither difficult nor lengthy, and with this brief outline to form an introduction, the reader who is a tyro will the better appreciate the fuller description which follows. * * * * * Whilst the article that follows is more comprehensive than the beginner may require at first, he is nevertheless advised to read it carefully through, and some points which may not seem clear at first will explain themselves after a very little experience. _The Carbon Process._ [Illustration] Before proceeding to practical details of working, it may be as well to realize what a piece of carbon tissue is, and what takes place in the process of exposing such tissue to light. Mr. J. W. Swan, who is to be regarded as the inventor of carbon process as we now know it, was justified in giving the name "tissue" to the film of pigmented bichromatized gelatine, as at first it was a tissue unsupported by paper backing and containing pigment practically, if not entirely, carbon. The terms "carbon" and "tissue" have been generally accepted as describing a pigmented paper containing permanent colour, therefore little if any misunderstanding is caused by such general description. The carbon process, like other kindred methods, is based upon the well-known hardening action of light upon a bichromate salt in combination with organic matter. When paper is coated with a mixture of gelatine pigment and a bichromate salt, dried under favourable conditions and exposed to light under a negative it naturally follows that a positive image is produced. The negative acting as a screen, prevents any undue hardening of such portions of the picture as are intended to form the high-lights, only slightly interfering with what are to be the middle tints, and practically permitting full play in the shadows. The latent image is imprinted on and into the film of tissue compound with the most delicate portions on the surface, and means must therefore be adopted to protect the surface during the washing away of all parts of the film not intended or desired to form any part of the finished picture.[7] In Swan's process this object was secured by cementing the surface of the printed tissue to its temporary support with rubber solution, but after J. R. Johnson discovered that the printed tissue would adhere without any cement to any surface impervious to air and water simply by atmospheric pressure, the same end was gained by soaking the undeveloped print in water until about _half saturated_, then bringing it into contact _under water_ with either its temporary or permanent support, slightly squeegeeing or sponging to remove as much water as possible without injury to the print; as to _air_, _there ought not to be any present_ if care is taken to exclude it before lifting from the water bath. The half-soaked tissue after mounting absorbs every particle of water from between the surfaces, and thus secures optical contact. [7] It is generally asserted by non-practical carbon printers that all portions of the film behind that which finally forms the print, are unacted upon by light. That is to say, unchanged and quite as soluble as if not printed at all. The upholders of such a theory should try the following experiment:--Take a piece of tissue, cut it through the centre, expose one piece, then mount both under precisely similar conditions and wash in the same warm water bath. Paying special attention to the backing papers, they will find the one unacted upon by light will have parted with its load of coloured material in much less time than the piece that formed the backing of the print. The squeegee, handy tool as it is, ought to be used with great care, in no case with any degree of force, or serious injury will result, particularly to the finer kinds of work, such as double transfer prints of all kinds, either on paper, ivory or opal. The rubber edge of the squeegee should be free from notches, often caused by contact with the sharp edges of glass plates. The notches can be removed by rubbing on a sheet of glass paper placed on a plane surface. TISSUE MAKING. The tissue compound consists of a mixture of the following ingredients:--Gelatine, sugar, pigment and water. The proportions are of infinite variety according to season, the nature of the pigment used, and the purpose for which the tissue is intended. For convenience it is the rule for tissue makers to prepare what is termed stock jelly by dissolving, by the aid of a water bath, gelatine and sugar in water, in varying proportions--roughly speaking:-- Gelatine 2 parts. Water 4 to 7 " Sugar[8] 3/4 to 1-1/4 " [8] For some purposes (instead of sugar), glycerine, sugar of milk, or treacle may be substituted. The pigments are made up into what are termed jelly colours, which are ground either by hand on a slab of glass, marble or granite, using a suitable muller for the purpose, or when large quantities are required a paint mill driven by steam or other power is employed. In hand grinding the colour is kept moist by syrup on greatly reduced stock jelly. After grinding by hand the pigment is lifted from the slab with a palette knife and stirred into melted stock jelly. When the mill is used, the pigment is mixed with the jelly before grinding. The proportion of pigment to jelly varies enormously according to the nature of the pigment, and may be anything between 2-1/2 per cent. and 25 per cent. Having prepared stock jelly and jelly colours, and allowed both to set, they are weighed out in proper proportions, the jelly being dissolved in a tin vessel placed in a water bath. The colour, generally speaking, is dissolved in a small proportion of the stock jelly placed in the mill and again ground into the bulk of the jelly. In some cases the pigment is dissolved in warm water and filtered through cotton wool, fine felt or flannel. After adding powdered recrystallized bichromate, the jelly compound is ready for coating or spreading on the paper. The coating may be done by hand or machine. Several forms of machine are in use, including the first form invented by Mr. Swan. When only a small quantity is required, it is the general practice to coat by hand. In hand coating, the tissue compound may be strained through fine muslin into a flat tin dish placed on a water bath; the surface cleared of air bubbles by dragging over it a strip of stiff paper. The sheet of paper to be coated is held in an upright position at the further end of the dish with its bottom edge just touching the surface of the solution, gently lowered until the whole surface of the sheet is in contact with the solution. If the lowering is properly done there will not be any default in contact, but if allowed to rest on the solution a few moments, the presence of air bubbles, if any, will be detected by the presence of little lumps on the back of the paper, these may be removed by raising a corner and touching the spots with a finger tip. The sheet is then raised with a rather slow and steady motion, allowed to drip, then clipped to a line by its top corners and left to dry in a warm dry room from which white light has been excluded. When this method of coating is adopted it is best to have the sheets of paper an inch longer than the dish; the blank edge prevents contamination of the fingers and distortion of the sheet caused by contraction in drying. Another method of hand-coating is to roll the sheet into a tube shape, placing the roll on the surface of the jelly compound one and a half inches from the top of the free end, raising with rather slow and steady motion as before. When the second method is chosen an oblong and somewhat deep dish will be found better than the flat shape; the flat dish may be used if tilted to give greater depth of solution in a corner. [Illustration: AT THE FOUNTAIN. J. W. WADE.] In the manufacture of tissues the greatest care must be taken to avoid over or long-continued heating of the gelatine solution. Either a too high temperature or a lower temperature, long continued, destroys the solution by rendering a considerable portion of it soluble in cold water and to a great degree reducing its gelatinous character. The samples of gelatine used in tissue making are of two kinds, although both of good quality they differ in solubility, in hot weather a larger proportion of the "hard" sample is used, in cold weather _vice versa_. INSENSITIVE TISSUES. All insensitive tissues are made with a single sample of hard gelatine. They are stocked by dealers and must of necessity be fit for use at any season of the year, to say nothing of those exported to hot climates. TRANSFER PAPERS. Papers of many kinds are necessary for single transfer prints, the tint of the paper must blend and harmonize with the tone of the tissue or by contrasting help to produce a pleasing effect. For prints of warm tones such as red chalk, terra cotta and the various tints of sepia, a yellowish or cream-toned paper forms the most harmonious basis; the various tints of black, blue, and purple look best on a slightly bluish-tinted paper. For instance, a copy of an old engraving in tissue, of the brown tone of the original would be utterly spoilt by a blue-tinted basis. The above remarks apply only in a limited degree to double transfer papers which in general use are confined almost exclusively to portraiture. Such papers are sometimes modified by tinting mauve, rose, opal, etc., etc. Such tints are only in small demand and are in all cases confined to papers coated with enamel preparations. The best and most durable form of double transfer paper is that prepared on fine chemically pure paper with colourless gelatine and made insoluble by the smallest possible quantity of chrome alum, entirely without white or tinted pigment of any kind. The best variety of double transfer paper only differs from the finest form of single transfer paper in having on its surface a rather thicker and softer coating of colourless gelatine. All transfer papers, either for single or double transfer, may be coated in the same way as tissue, with the exception of those having a very rough surface. All drawing papers and in fact all papers of very rough surface are prepared by brushing over their surfaces several coatings of a very thin solution of gelatine containing a larger proportion of chrome alum or formalin than is used in making ordinary single transfers. A flat camel-hair brush is best for this form of coating, care must be taken to avoid air bubbles. FLEXIBLE TEMPORARY SUPPORT. Is paper coated with a gelatine solution in the first instance, and after drying, again coated with an aqueous solution of shellac. SENSITIZING THE TISSUE. Pour the bichromate solution into a deep flat dish (porcelain, ebonite, zinc, wood or tin) to the depth of half an inch to an inch; place a sheet of tissue in it face upwards, remove air-bubbles with a camel-hair brush or soft sponge, using as little pressure as may be; turn the sheet and remove bubbles formed on the paper, turn the sheet again face upwards, and passing brush or sponge gently over the surface, keep it evenly wet until it is fairly limp; remove from the solution, place face downwards on a perfectly clean glass or zinc plate, squeegee to remove excess of solution, blot or wipe with a soft cloth, remove any solution from the fingers, lift from the plate, handle by edges only, clip to a line, small sizes by one corner only, larger sheets by two corners, leaving a little slackness between the two clips to allow for contraction in drying, otherwise the sheet will be distorted and difficult to press into contact with the negative. The sensitizing _may_ be done in ordinary daylight. The drying _must_ take place in a room from which actinic light is excluded, and in a current of warm dry air, free from impurities, such as the products of combustion from burning gas, or an escape of sewer gas, etc., and at a temperature not higher than 120° F. The drying should be done as quickly as possible, otherwise the tissue's keeping property will be greatly reduced, and in all probability a thin film formed on the surface, of insoluble gelatine, known to printers as "decomposed tint," degrading the high-lights, and, except in the case of very "hard" negatives, spoiling the work. It will be evident to anyone that the fancy forms of sensitizing have been carefully avoided--floating on the back, floating on the face, etc., etc. All the results desired can be obtained by immersion. If a hard negative has to be dealt with, a stronger solution, or longer soaking in the bichromate solution, is all that is needed; for weak negatives _vice versa_. _Note._--In the dry frosty air of winter, sensitized tissue will dry without heat, and continue soluble for a considerable length of time, often as long as a month, or even longer. In hot weather it is recommended that the solution of recrystallized bichromate be made immediately before using, as in dissolving the crystals a considerable reduction of temperature is produced. Should the temperature then be over 60° F., ice must be used, not in the solution, but roughly broken up and mixed with salt in an outer vessel. If ice is placed in the bichromate bath allowance must be made by keeping out part of the water. The ice should be encased in several thicknesses of fine muslin to prevent the solid impurities it generally contains getting into the solution. When recrystallized bichromate is not procurable, a few drops of liquid ammonia added to solution of crude bichromate is recommended. As bichromate is cheap, a fresh solution should be made for each large batch of tissue. PRINTING THE NEGATIVE. Any negative that will yield a thoroughly good albumen print is suitable for carbon work. The thinner negatives now made for P.O.P. and similar processes are less satisfactory for direct prints in carbon, for enlargements and reproductions such negatives can be made to yield most satisfactory results by modifying the transparency and the enlarged or reproduced negative. The latitude in this direction is great. No matter how flat the original negative may be, _if all the grades are present_ it can be manipulated in such a way that the most brilliant result will be produced. PREPARATION OF THE NEGATIVE FOR PRINTING. The negative is prepared for printing as in all other processes by removing all defects such as pinholes, streaks, etc. For the carbon process the negative requires to be further provided with what is termed a "_safe edge_;" this is a line of black varnish, from one-eighth to half an inch in width according to the sizes of the negatives, painted on its margin, either on the film or glass side. In the case of original negatives masks of opaque paper are used instead of the painted edge, the masks having openings cut in them slightly less than the size of the negative. The purpose of the safe edge is to secure a margin on which light has not acted, as such a margin gives greater freedom to the operator in the process of development by preventing the more deeply printed portions of the picture leaving the support when the backing paper is removed. DOUBLE TRANSFER PRINTING. It may be explained in a few words why an ordinary (non-reversed) negative must be printed by double transfer. In all other solar processes when the print is removed from or taken off the face of the negative, it is turned over to view, it therefore follows that the details on the left side of the negative are found on the right side of the positive print; with the carbon print no such turning occurs, it is mounted upon its support in the same position as it lay on the negative, developed in that position from the back and leaving the position of objects the same as in the negative. In some cases this reversal of the position of details is unimportant. We will first consider the double transfer. In all double transfer processes a temporary support must be provided. Such supports are of two kinds, flexible and rigid. When a matt-surface print on paper is required, finely grained opal glass is used. For the enamelled surface patent plate, for intermediate or only slightly glazed surface, a flexible support is used. Flexible support yields a surface similar to an albumen print without special preparation. When the higher glaze of the double-albumenized print is desired, the printed tissue is coated with thin collodion before mounting on the flexible support. Rigid supports, zinc or ground-glass plates, have been used, but owing to the difficulty of seeing the details during development their use is practically discontinued. Flexible temporary support is always used in transferring to canvas, wood panel, opal, ivory, etc., etc. In the case of canvas, the double transfer process has two great advantages. First, staining is avoided, the bichromate has been thoroughly got rid of in the process of development. Secondly, the canvas is prepared to receive the print by a substratum that allows the carbon image to expand and contract with the expansion or contraction of the canvas and not in opposition to it. There are also two advantages in adopting the double transfer process for the production of pictures on ivory. The first, is freedom from bichromate stains. Secondly, the ivory is not distorted by washing in hot water, such distortion generally takes place when the single transfer process is adopted. Wood panels are prepared in a similar way to canvas. Stains are avoided, and as there is not the expansion and contraction of canvas to provide against, the substratum is modified in composition and greatly reduced. The stains above alluded to are caused by the chemical combination of bichromate with the lead of the paint, forming chromate of lead or chrome yellow. In the case of opal, opaque celluloid, and similar substances, no staining takes place, the double transfer is only required to restore the image to its proper position. SINGLE TRANSFER. The single transfer process is practically the only method in use when large sizes or large numbers of prints are required. For large sizes the negatives are reversed in the process of enlargement. For small sizes one or more reproduced reversed negatives are made, either in the camera from a carbon transparency, or by contact printing from a carbon transparency on a dry plate. With reasonable care, little if any loss of quality occurs in reproduction. As the single transfer process is the most simple form of carbon printing, it is generally recommended to beginners. Probably the most simple form of all is single transfer on opal. The opal plate does not require any preparation beyond cleaning. Neither soap nor grease of any kind must be permitted to contaminate the surface, otherwise the print will fail to adhere. Opal plates are cleaned by scrubbing with fine graining sand and water, and a muller or a small plate, either of ordinary or opal glass, placed upon the wetted sand and moved over the surface with a circular motion until soiled or discoloured markings are ground off. THE ACTINOMETER. An actinometer must be used to gauge the amount of exposure, as only a faint image, and in some tissues none at all, is visible during or after exposure. The simplest form of instrument is the best. That in general use is known as Johnson's Actinometer, a square tin box containing a long strip of sensitive albumen paper, and provided with a glass lid painted to the colour of printed albumen paper, an opening in the paint in the form of a slit three-sixteenths of an inch in width, from which the paint has been removed. The strip of sensitive paper is made to pass between the top of an inner lid and the painted side of the glass lid underneath the clear slit with the end of the strip protruding at one side of the box. On exposure to light the sensitive silver paper gradually discolours until it closely resembles the colour of the paint, that is called one tint; the tint is changed by pulling the slip forward just the width of the slit, and so on until the requisite number of tints have been printed for the strongest or densest negative in the batch exposed, those negatives requiring less exposure are turned down or removed when the requisite number of tints are registered in each case. EXPOSURE. For double transfer from opal the materials required are opal plates, sensitive tissue, French chalk, collodion, double transfer paper, pressure frame, flat camel-hair brush, chamois leather. Before placing the negative in pressure frame, carefully clean from both sides all finger marks, etc., with the leather, place negative in frame on a paper mask, or provided with a safe edge. After exposure to light, remove from frame and develop on plate prepared as follows:--Rub the whole surface with French chalk on a pad of muslin, afterwards removing loose particles by gentle brushing. Coat with collodion made as follows:--Enamel collodion, 1 part; ether, 1 part; alcohol, 1 part. Filter and coat by pouring a pool on centre of the plate, and, by tilting it, force the collodion to flow into the top right corner, then to the left, then to bottom left, and finally drain off at bottom right corner, rocking the plate the while. The collodion must be allowed to set until it will bear the gentle pressure of a finger in its thickest part, but must not be permitted to dry in any part before plunging into clean cold water to remove the solvents by washing. The time required in washing is variable according to time of year. When the collodion ceases to repel water it is ready to receive the printed tissue. Soak the tissue for the requisite time, but not so long as to become quite saturated, bring it into contact with collodionized side of plate, remove to squeegeeing board, place over it a piece of wet rubber cloth, or a piece of wet thick single transfer paper, coated side up, to prevent injury to exposed margin of collodion and to facilitate the smooth passage of squeegee over the surface in removing excess of water. If, on removing the covering from the plate, the back of tissue is found to be unevenly wet, blot or place plate in a rack to drain; in a few minutes develop in warm water, temperature 90° to 100° F. Be careful to remove the backing paper _under water_, _and as soon as possible after immersion_ in the warm bath. Finish development by laving or pouring warm water over the print from jug or other vessel, until all details are brought out. When washing is finished the print should look rather light, as in drying a decided increase in strength is obtained; rinse _slightly_ in alum solution to stop bleeding only, place in clean cold water to wash out any remains of bichromate, thoroughly rinse by dashing water upon the print to remove any particles of solid matter that may have stuck to its surface; place in a rack to dry, and transfer as soon after drying as possible. The transfer paper is cut a trifle larger than the net size of the print, but less than the opal support; it is soaked in warm water until the surface is slimy to the touch, but not soft enough to break under pressure between finger and thumb. The softened transfer paper is placed in clean cold water into which the dry print is plunged, water dashed upon its surface to remove air; the two surfaces are brought into contact under water, and squeegeed into contact as in first mounting before development. When thoroughly dry, the print may be removed from the opal plate by inserting the point of a knife at the edge. Double transfer prints with enamelled surface are produced precisely as above, only substituting patent plate for ground opal, and by adding a second thickness of paper to the back of the finished print before removal from its temporary support. DOUBLE TRANSFER FROM FLEXIBLE SUPPORT. The flexible temporary support is prepared by waxing. The waxing solutions are:-- No. 1. Benzol 1 oz. Pure beeswax (natural not bleached) 3 grs. No. 2. Turpentine 1 oz. Yellow resin 10 grs. After dissolving, mix the two solutions, pour a little of the mixture on fine flannel, rub it over so as to evenly moisten the surface of the flexible support, wipe off with a second flannel using only slight pressure but rubbing briskly and with circular _motion_. When finished, the waxed surface should be perfectly even and quite free from streaks or other markings. The waxing should be done some considerable time before the support is required for use, and exposed to the free action of air to remove all trace of the solvents. PAPER PRINTS WITH ORDINARY OR SLIGHTLY GLAZED SURFACE. After removal from the pressure frame, the tissue is plunged into cold water with a piece of support slightly larger. After soaking the necessary time, the prepared surfaces are brought into contact under water, removed from the bath and placed upon any even plane surface, such as zinc, glass, etc., squeegeed into contact, blotted or otherwise treated to remove uneven dampness, and developed in warm water as in double transfer from rigid support, then slightly rinsed in alum solution and washed in clean cold water until all traces of bichromate are removed. After the transferring is done as before described, only the print on flexible support must be soaked in water until quite flat before bringing into contact with its final support. PAPER PRINTS WITH HIGHLY GLAZED SURFACE. The printed tissue after removal from the pressure frame is coated with collodion, for this coating allowance must be made in printing. A considerable reduction in temperature takes place and any moisture present in the air is condensed on the tissue, bringing into action the well-known effect of continued moisture, _i.e._, considerably increasing the depth of the print. Great care must be taken to coat evenly and to prevent the collodion running in streaks on the back of the print. When such streaks or unevenness of any kind are present, a corresponding dark line or lines will be found on the face of the finished print. Transfer same as for prints with ordinary surface. All prints from flexible support on paper with a highly glazed surface as well as those intended for transfer to ivory or opal are coated with thin collodion:-- Enamel collodion 2 parts Ether 4 " Alcohol 4 " DOUBLE TRANSFER TO OPAL AND IVORY. After development the print is allowed to dry, and as soon after drying as possible it is transferred to its final support, whether opal or ivory, by a solution of gelatine composed of the following ingredients:-- Gelatine (fairly hard) 1-1/2 ozs. Water 20 " Chrome alum solution (30 grs.) 2 " Soak the gelatine in the water until quite limp, dissolve by heat, then add the 30 grain chrome alum solution; roughly filter through two or more thicknesses of fine muslin into a flat dish on a water bath. After cutting the print to a size a trifle less than opal or ivory, place both print and final support in gelatine solution, allow print to stretch until quite flat, then bring them into contact under solution, squeegee and place on edge to dry. When quite dry, remove temporary support by inserting the point of a knife between the surfaces at the edge, wash with benzol or ether to remove all traces of the waxing solution. The print is now ready for the artist. DOUBLE TRANSFER PRINTS ON CANVAS. For double transfer prints on canvas, as a basis for oil painting, there is not at the present moment a large demand. A strong prejudice exists, and deservedly so, against such prints, for the following reasons. Some thirty years ago, in the principal establishment in which carbon work was done, a process of printing on canvas was in vogue. It was roughly this:--A stretched artist's canvas without other preparation was coated with dammar varnish; after drying, the canvas was used in pretty much the same way as single transfer paper is now--that is to say, a piece of printed tissue was squeegeed into contact with its surface, developed by floating on hot water, and practically in that crude condition placed in the hands of artists for oil-colour painting or finishing as it is sometimes prudently called. The natural result followed--_viz._, in a dry warm room the canvas stretched, the film of unmodified gelatine contracted; hence cracks, peeling, etc., until the work, valuable or otherwise, was utterly ruined. The method of preparing the canvas for the reception of the carbon image introduced by the writer is based upon opposite principles, as mentioned in the preceding general remarks, and may be described as follows:--A yielding and elastic substratum of gelatine forms a crust, so to speak, that expands and contracts according to the corresponding behaviour of the canvas support. Ordinary painted canvas, such as is used by artists, or strong linen may be used with special treatment. PREPARATION OF PAINTED CANVAS. The canvas is first stretched tightly on a drawing board, same size as picture required, the greater part of paint removed by scrubbing with soda solution (either nail brush, sponge or a piece of flannel will answer the purpose) until the surface of the fabric is exposed and little of the paint remains beyond the priming. After drying, the canvas is coated with the following solution, applied with a flat camel-hair brush. Several coats (three in cold, four in warm weather) are given, drying between each and rubbing with fine sand paper if at all uneven. Coating Solution. Cooking gelatine (Cox's soup answers perfectly) 4 oz. Sugar 2 " Glycerine 2 " Water 30 " 30 grain chrome alum solution 1 " The print is exposed in the ordinary manner, developed on temporary support, allowed to dry and transferred to the canvas as follows:--The canvas is placed face upwards, on a level surface by preference, on a broad board over a large tank. The dry print is placed face upwards in a flat dish, the warm coating solution poured over it, air bells removed with the brush, the surface of the canvas brushed over with the solution. The bulk of the solution is then poured on the canvas and before it has had time to run off the print is lowered carefully and quickly upon it and squeegeed to remove excess of solution. After thorough drying, the temporary support is removed, the surface of the print cleaned with benzol or ether or a mixture of both to remove every trace of the waxing compound, and mounted on a stretcher in the usual manner. A print on canvas prepared as above, is perfectly reliable, it will neither crack nor peel, and can be used with perfect confidence as a basis for the most costly form of artistic finishing, as the carbon image rests upon an elastic substratum in actual contact with the fibrous substance of the canvas. TO PREPARE ORDINARY STRONG LINEN OR CALICO. Proceed precisely as for painted canvas (of course without scrubbing), using the same coating solution with half-a-pound white pigment added, sulphate of baryta answers perfectly. Sand or glass paper must be used pretty freely as the surface of the unpainted fabric washes up roughly when the gelatine coatings are applied. WOOD PANELS. Wood panels are prepared by removing the surface of the paint only with soda solution. After drying, a tooth is given by rubbing with fine sand paper and coating with solution as under:-- Gelatine (Cox's soup) 3 oz. Sugar 1 " Glycerine 1/2 " Water 30 " 30 grain chrome alum solution 3/4 " _Note._--Before transferring to either kinds of canvas or wood panel in cold weather, it is absolutely necessary to thoroughly warm the final support, otherwise the gelatine solution will gelatinize before the excess can be removed from between the surfaces. THE SINGLE TRANSFER PROCESS. The single transfer process may be briefly described as follows:--The sensitive tissue is exposed under a negative and the exposure gauged by actinometer as for double transfer printing. After removal from the pressure frame the printed tissue is plunged into clean cold water along with a piece of transfer paper of any desired surface or quality, cut a little larger than the tissue (to provide a margin by which the picture may be handled without injury during development). After soaking the requisite time, the two prepared surfaces are brought into contact under the water, removed to a squeegeeing board, plate of glass or zinc, and squeegeed into contact; care must be taken to use only as much pressure as is needed to remove the superfluous water from between the surfaces. A sponge may be used instead of a squeegee, or both may be dispensed with, if care is taken to remove every trace of air from surfaces before lifting from the cold water bath. When neither squeegee or substitute for it is used, the print must be handled with greater care, as undue bending before atmospheric pressure comes into operation would destroy contact. The print is hung up to drain, and more time allowed between mounting and development. Development is the same as in double transfer, with one or two rather important exceptions. 1st. The single transfer print is developed upon the material on which it is to remain. 2nd. There is no preparation of the supports, neither in the case of paper or opal. 3rd. The developed print can be soaked for a considerable time in a saturated solution of alum without injury, the alum solution greatly assisting in removing bichromate. CARBON TRANSPARENCIES. Carbon transparencies, either for projection, enlargement, or reproduction, are printed in a special tissue known as transparency tissue, and developed on glass plates prepared with a thin coating of fine hard gelatine. The coating solution is composed as follows:-- Gelatine 3/4 oz. Water 40 " Bichromate potash 1 dram. The glass plates are carefully selected, free from bells, scratches, and other defects; thoroughly cleaned, either by acid or rubbing with plate powder to remove every trace of grease, and then coated with the gelatine solution, and placed in a rack to dry; when dry, exposed to light to render the film somewhat insoluble. It is not desirable to print until the film is absolutely hardened throughout. The print adheres firmly to the plate when the substratum is not over-printed. A positive intended for projection should show clear glass in the highest lights without undue density in the shadows, all details plainly seen--in a word, quite transparent. Positives intended for enlargement must be fully exposed--that is to say, every detail on the highest lights brought out, but no more; beyond that point there is nothing to be gained. Over-printing in the transparency tends to bury detail in the shadows of the enlarged negative, and to blend the highest grades in the high-lights, reducing the roundness or modelling of the picture. In the case of very hard negatives intended for enlargement, the usual treatment is to sun the whole surface of the transparency in order to secure detail in the high-lights. A moment's consideration will convince any practical printer that nothing but injury to the final print can result from such treatment of the transparency. The high-lights are degraded, the details in the shadows further buried. The better method is to make an extra special transparency tissue, for the printing of such hard negatives, containing a greatly reduced proportion of pigment to gelatine. Such a tissue permits greater depth of printing, retains all details in the shadows and high-lights, and, in fact, enables the enlarger to produce a negative that will yield a thoroughly satisfactory print. REPRODUCED NEGATIVES. In making reproduced negatives from hard originals, ordinary transparency tissue will serve every purpose. The transparency is printed in the usual way, and developed on a prepared glass plate; when dry a negative is printed from the transparency without special treatment and also developed on glass, when a decided reduction of density will be found to have taken place. The reproduced negative will possess all the good qualities of the original, plus improved printing quality. It is only in the case of extremely hard negatives that the extra special tissue is required. If a perfect reproduction of an original negative is required, the transparency must be printed either in very weak light or in direct sunlight. Either method gives a brighter image than that produced in ordinary diffused daylight. The same method must be adopted in printing the negative. _Note._--Care must be taken when direct sunlight is used to see that the pressure frame and everything in and about it is thoroughly dry, otherwise the tissue may stick to the negative, spoiling the print and probably the negative also. It must also be noted that two tints, printed in direct sunlight, although of apparently the same depth, mean quite as much as three such tints printed in diffused light. FAILURES AND DEFECTS: THEIR CAUSES AND CURE. As a rule, failures in working the carbon process are caused, as in most other cases of failure, by imperfect _knowledge of the substances and nature of the ingredients used in the process_. Before going into further detail, it may be as well to point out that a great deal of misunderstanding has been caused, by writers on this subject--that may be fairly termed "blind leaders of the blind." With only slight knowledge of the subject they have misled beginners by assuring them that the process is simplicity itself, in fact the most simple photographic printing process extant. Up to a certain point, and to that certain point only, is such description true. There are no subtle chemical combinations, no mixing and maturing of toning or other solutions. But--and in this case there is great virtue in the _but_--the greatest care is not only required, it is absolutely demanded, in manipulation. A carbon print from start to finish is probably subject to more chances of injury than any other form of print in existence. When this fact has been fully grasped by the novice, and he has been thoroughly prepared for the difficulties before him, the rest is plain sailing. Care, and care only; nothing beyond. He who wishes to succeed in carbon work must pay infinite attention to every small matter of detail as far as such detail relates to manipulation, otherwise he will only succeed in achieving failure. FRILLING AND RETICULATIONS. Frilly reticulations are generally caused by over-soaking the tissue before development, or failing to provide protection of the clear portions of the margin of the negative by a safe edge. SPOTS ON THE FINISHED PRINT. Spots are generally caused by solid particles of grit or other impurities being allowed to find their way into the water in the process of development, or, as in the case of certain peculiar circular spots that often deface the carbon print, such spots are caused by small fragments of tissue broken from the edges in cutting, which, being of the same colour as the prepared surface of the tissue and exceedingly small, often escape notice. They adhere most tenaciously to the surface of the tissue, and if not removed before the print is mounted upon its temporary or final support, cause the mischief referred to; being confined between two surfaces they cannot escape, but are dissolved by the water used in developing the print, swell and make a circular patch, often greatly injuring the picture. Spots of a different character are produced in quite an opposite direction. Instead of being black they are light, in groups each spot having a dark rim on the outside. They generally occur in under-exposed prints, and are formed by fine particles of air imprisoned between the coating of gelatine and the paper support. When the tissue is mounted for development and placed in warm water, the fine particles of air swell, and not being able to escape from between the surfaces, impress themselves into the yielding portions of the printed tissue and make the marks above referred to, unless the printing has been deep enough to allow of their removal before development is completed. CAUSE OF FAILURES IN THE SECOND TRANSFER. Other causes of failure refer particularly to prints by double transfer, either to paper, opal, ivory, canvas or wood panel or any similar surfaces. Such failures are generally produced by _soap_, _fat_, or _any kind_ of greasy substances being permitted to find their way into the water in which such prints have been manipulated previous to their final transfer. Another point should be mentioned: the sooner a print intended for second transfer is finished the better the result will be. PRESSURE MARKS. Pressure marks are caused by using damp tissue or damp pads in the pressure frame. It is recommended that a piece of waterproof material, such as mackintosh cloth, be placed between the tissue and the padding, and that the pads be as smooth and free from grain as possible. It will be found on close examination that the mottled, spotty appearance, known as pressure marks, closely resemble the texture of the pads behind the tissue. _Thos. S. Skelton._ INDEX. =A.= Alpine Photography, 9 " Outfit for, 9 " Lens for, 10 " Carrying camera in, 12 " Plates for, 14 " Carrying Baggage for, 15 " Outfit for Developing, 16 " Exposures, 17 " Development, 18 " " Formulæ, 20 " Light (tables), 21, 22 Accelerator, 24 Alum Bath, Formula, 41 Aberration, Spherical, 60 " Chromatic, 61 Astigmatism, 62 Aplanat Lens, 64 Astigmat Lens, 64 Aperture of Lens, 68 Angle of Image, 70 Accessories in Portraiture, 79 Architectural Photography, 117 " " Camera for, 118 " " Lenses for, 119 " " Plates for, 122 Actinometer for Platinotype, 208 " for Carbon Process, 271 =B.= Backing Mixtures, 49 Background in Portraiture, 78 Breadth in Pictorial Work, 93 Blisters on P.O.P, 194 Bromide Printing, 225 " Safe light for, 226 " Negative for, 227 Bromide Paper, sensitive side of, 227 " Printing, 232, 233, 227 " " Lamp for, 228 Bromide Printing, masks and discs, 230 " " Vignetting, 231 " " Cloud Printing, 231 Bromide Paper, development of., 233 " " Iron developer for, 234 " " Metol, 235 " " Hydrokinone for, 236 " " Eikonogen for, 236 " " Clearing Bath, 235 " " Fixing Bath, 235 Bromide Prints, toning with gold, 237 " " Toning with Uranium, 238 " " Intensifying, 238 " " Reducing, 239 " " Cheap Trays for, 240 =C.= Camera, Carrying in Alps, 12 Caramel for Backing, 49 Curvature of Field of Lens, 62 Cooke Lens, 65 Composition in Pictorial Work, 95 Clearing Bath for Platinotype, 203, 218 Cloud Printing on Bromide Paper, 231 Clearing Bath for Bromides, 235 Clearing Bath for Gum-Print, 251 Carbon Process, outline of, 253 " Safe Edge for, 269, 255 " Carbon Process, Negative for, 255 " Transfer Paper for, 266, 256 " Temporary Support, 258 " in Detail, 261 " Squeegee for, 263 " Stock Jelly, 263 " Coating Paper for, 264 " Transfer Papers for, 266 " Flexible Support, 267 " Sensitizing Tissue for, 267 " Drying Tissue, 267 " Negative for, 268 " Reasons for Transfer, 269 " Transfer to Opal, 271 " Actinometer, 271 " Exposure, 272 " Transfer from Opal, 272 " T'sfer. from Flex. Spt., 274 " Glazed Surface Prints, 275 " Transfer to Ivory, 276 " Transfer to Canvas, 276 " Preparation of Canvas, 277 " " Linen, 278 " " Wood, 279 " Single Transfer, 289 " Transparencies by, 280 " Reproduced Negs. by, 281 " Failures and Defects, 282 " Frilling of Print, 283 " Spots, etc, 283 " Pressure Marks, 284 Canvas, Carbon Prints on., 276 =D.= Development, 23 " Dishes for, 25 " Effect of Temperature on, 28 " Light for Developing Room, 28 " with Pyro-Ammonia, 29 " " Formulæ, 30 " with Pyro-Soda, 33 " " Formulæ, 34 " with Ortol, Formulæ, 35 " with Hydroquinone (Quinol), 36 " " Formulæ, 36 " with Ferrous Oxalate, 36 " " Formulæ, 37 Drying Plates, 41 Dark Room Light, Testing, 44 Defects of Negative, 43 Dallmeyer's Portrait Lens, 64 " Stigmatic Lens, 65 Depth of Definition (Focus), 71 Distortion of Lens, 72 Development of Portrait Negative, 81 " " Formulæ, 83 Detail in Pictorial Work, 110, 93 Development in Hand Cam. Exps., 137 " Formulæ, 138 " of Lantern slides, 149, 147 " of Enlargements, 168 " of P.O.P, 188 " Platinotype Paper, 221, 204 " of Bromide Paper, 234-6, 233 " of Gum Print, 250 =E.= Exposure, Over, 27, 32 " Under, 27, 32 " Table with Pinhole, 76 Exposure of Lantern Slides, 146 Enlargements, 155 " Light for, 156, 162 " Daylight, 156 " Apparatus for, 157 " Lens, 164 " Direct, 167 " Development of, 168 Enlarged Negatives, 171 " " Transparency for, 172 Exposure in Carbon Printing, 272 =F.= Fixing, 37 " Formula, 38 Frilling, 41 Flat Image, 44 Fog on Negative, 44 Fog-Green, 45 Focal Length of Lens, 66 " " Comparison of, 67 Focussing Interiors, 127 Finders for Hand Cameras, 134 Focussing Scale for Hand Camera, 135 Fixing Bath for Bromide, 235 Frilling of Carbon Print, 283 Failures in Carbon Printing, 282 Flexible Suppt. Carbon Process, 267, 274 FORMULÆ:-- Development, Pyro-amm. (Abney), 20 " " (Bothamly), 30 " Pyro-soda " , 34 " Ortol " , 35 " Hydrokinone " , 36 " Ferrous Oxalate " , 37 Fixing, Hypo " , 38 Clearing, Alum " , 41 Reduction, Ferricyanide " , 50 Belitzski Reducer " , 51 Intensification, Mercury " , 52 " Uranium " , 54 Development, Metol (Baker), 83 " Pyro-Soda " , 83 " Quinol and Rodinal " , 83 " Amidol (Thomas), 138 " Hydrokinone " , 138 " Eikonogen " , 138 " Metol (Pringle), 150 " Ortol " , 151 " Hydrokinone " , 151 " Amidol (Hodges), 169 Fixing, Hypo " , 171 P.O.P. Toning, Gold (Lambert), 180, 181, 182 " Alum Bath " , 184 " Combined Bath (gold) " , 184 " " (lead) " , 184 " " (gold) " , 185 P.O.P. Glazing " , 186 " Mounting " , 187 " Development, Quinol ", 188 " Toning, Platinum " , 190 " Fixing " , 191 " Toning (gold) " , 191 " Reducing " , 192 " Tinting " , 194 Platinotype Clearing (Hinton), 203 " Developing " , 202, 214 " Toning " , 223 Bromide Develping., Iron, (Henry), 234 " Clearing " , 235 " Fixing (Henry), 235 " Developing, Metol " , 235 " Quinol & Eikonogen " , 236 " Toning (gold) " , 237 " Reducing " , 238, 239 Carbon Process Waxing, (Skelton), 259 " " Tissue Jelly " , 263 " " Waxing " , 274 " " Collodion " , 276 " " Substratum " , 276, 278, 279, 280 =G.= Green Fog, 45 " " Cure for, 46 Glazing P.O.P., 185, 186 Gum Bichromate Process, 241 " " Paper for, 243 " " Outline of Process, 245 " " Gum Solution, 246 " " Colours, 246 " " Brushes for, 247 " " Development, 250 " " Clearing Bath, 251 =H.= Hypo.--Test for, 40 Hard Image, 44 Halation, 48 Head-rest in Portraiture, 78 Hand Camera, Photography with, 131 " " Lens for, 133 " " Finders for, 134 " " Shutter for, 134 " " Focussing Scale for, 135 " " Development of Exposures, 137 Hardening P.O.P., 195 =I.= Intensification of Negatives, 51 " with Mercury formulæ, 51 " with Uranium formulæ, 53 Image Formation, 58 Image Angle, 70 Isochromatic Plates for Pict. Work, 115 Interior--Focussing, 127 " Exposure for, 127 Intensification of Lantern Slides, 153 " of P.O.P., 191 Intensifying Bromide Prints, 238 Ivory, Carbon Prints on, 276 =J.= Jena Glass for Lenses, 64 =L.= Latent Image, 23 Local Development, 20, 32 Lens, 57 " Function of a, 59 " Aberrations of a, 60 Lenses, Comparison of, 73 " Testing, 73 Lens for Pictorial Work, 113 " for Architectural Work, 120 Levels " " " , 121 Lens for Hand Camera, 133 Lantern Slides, 141 " " Various Processes, 143 " " Camera for Making, 144 " " Exposure of, 146 " " Development, 147, 149 " " Warm Tones on, 148, 152 " " Reducer for, 153 " " Intensifier for, 153 Linen, Prints on by Carbon Process, 278 =M.= Mountain Photography see Alpine do. Monocles, 75 Moving Objects & Architectl. Work, 129 Mounting P.O.P., 187 =N.= Negative Making, 23 " Washing, 39 " Drying, 40 " Defects of the, 43 " too Thin, 43 " too Dense, 43 " Image too Flat, 44 " Image too Dense, 44 " Fog on, 44 " Green Fog on, 45 " Black Spots, Marks, Bands on, 46 " Transpnt. Bands, Spots on, 47 " Stains on, 47 " to Intensify, 51 " to Reduce, 49 " to Varnish, 54 " for Platinotype, 222 " for Bromide Printing, 227 " Reprodn. by Carbon Process, 281 " for Carbon Printing, 268, 255 =O.= Optics--see Lenses, 57 Opal for Carbon Print, 272, 271 =P.= Preservative, 25 Pinhole Image, 75, 58 Portrait Lens, 64, 63 Planar Lens of Zeiss, 65 Pinhole Table of Exposures, 75 Portraiture, 77 " Shutter for, 77 " in Ordinary Rooms, 79 Portraits Out-of-Doors, 80 Portraiture, Lenses for, 80 " Development in, 81 " " Formulæ, 83 Pictorial Photography, 87 Plates for Architectural Work, 122 P.O.P., Print-out Paper, 177 " Care of the Paper, 178 " Printing, 178 " Washing, 179 " Toning, 180 " Fixing, 183 " Combined Bath for, 184 " Alum Bath for, 184 " Drying, 185 " Glazing, 186, 185 " Matt Surface, 185 " Mounting, 187 " Development of, 188 " Platinum Toning, 189 " Toning with Gold & Platnm., 191 " Intensifying, 191 " Reducing, 192 " Defects of, 193 " Stains on, 195, 193 " Blisters, 194 " Tinting, 194 " Hardening, 195 " Spots on, 195 Printing P.O.P., 178 Platinotype Printing, 197 " Paper to Preserve, 199 " Outline of Process, 201 " Development, 220, 204 " Exposure of, 206, 202 " with Act'meter, 207 " Temperature of Develmt., 212 " Developing Salts, 213 " Papers, various kinds, 214 " Sepia Paper, 215 " Clearing Bath, 203, 218 " Devpmt. by Glyc. method, 221 " Negative for, 222 " Prints Toning, 223 Printing Bromide Paper, 232, 233, 227 Papers for Gum-Bichro. Process, 243 Pressure Marks in Carbon Prints, 284 =R.= Restrainer or Retarder, 24 Reducer, 24 Reduction of negative, 49 " Formulæ, 50, 51 Reduction, local, 50 Refraction of Light, 60 Rapid Rectilinear, Symmetrical, Lens, 64 Rapidity of Lens, 68 Rembrandt Effects in Portraiture, 79 Retouching Portrait Negative, 83 Reducer for Lantern Slides, 153 Reducing P.O.P., 192 Reducing Bromide Prints, 239 Reticulation of Carbon Prints, 283 Reproduction of Neg. by Car. Pro., 281 =S.= Satz-Anastigmat Lens, 65 Stigmatic Lens of Dallmeyer, 69 Stops, Value of, 69 Stops, Comparative Value, Table, 70 Spectacle Lens, 75 Selection in Pictorial Work, 95 Shutter for Hand Camera, 134 Stains on P.O.P., 193, 195 Sepia Platinotype, 215 Spots on Carbon Prints, 283 Single Transfer Carbon Process, 289 Safe Edge for Carbon Printing, 255, 269 Sensitizing Carbon Tissue, 267 =T.= Tripod on Ice, a caution, 14 Test for Hypo, 40 Testing Dark-room Light, 44 Tele-photo Lens, 70 Truth in Pictorial Photograph, 91 Tone Value, 107 Toning P.O.P., 180, 189, 191 Tinting P.O.P., 194 Toning Platinotypes, 223, 224 Toning Bromide Prints (gold), 237 " (uranium) 238 Trays for Bromide Printing, 240 Transparency by Carbon Process, 280 T'sfer. Paper for Carbon P'cess., 256, 266 Temporary Support, Carbon Process, 258 TABLES:-- Light, 21, 22 Stops,70 Pinholes, 75 =V.= View Finder, 13 Varnishing Negatives, 54 Vignetting Bromide Prints, 231 =W.= Washing Plates after Development, 38 Wood, Carbon Prints on, 279 =Z.= Zeiss-Planar Lens, 65 " Lens for Architecture, 120 * * * * * * * * * END OF WORK * * * * * * * * * ADVERTISEMENT * * * * * * * * * TWELVE ... PERFECT PRODUCTIONS. _BARNET_ | +---------- _Ordinary_ = = Plates | +---------- _Studio_ " | +---------- _Extra Rapid_ " | +---------- _Rocket_ " | +---------- _Lantern_ " | +---------- _Photo-Mechanical_ " | +---------- _Astronomical_ " | +---------- _Platino-Matt_ Bromide Paper | +---------- _Ordinary Bromide Paper_ | +---------- _Snow Enamel Paper_ | +---------- _P.O.P._ | +---------- _Carbon Tissue_ Price List on application. Manufactured by ELLIOTT & SON, ... BARNET. * * * * * * * * * Transcription Notes: The original spelling and grammar have been retained. Footnotes have been moved to the end of the paragraphs in which they are referenced. Minor adjustments to hyphenation and other punctuation have been made without annotation. The caret symbol ^ is used to represent a number or expression raised to some power (5^2=25). Typographical changes to the original work are as follows: pg 10 kodak/Kodak: a form of ... pg 15 removed repeated word at: can be got at ... pg 62 simultaneouly/simultaneously: where they cross ... pg 81 two/too: too far behind or ... pg 95 frolicing/frolicking: joyous sunshine ... pg 108 rythmical/rhythmical: something ... pg 144 salutory/salutary: has a very ... pg 145 concatention/concatenation: under any ... pg 153 potass/potash: metabisulphite of ... pg 193 power/powder: ("bleaching ... 
63427	----	provided on The Internet Archive. All resultant materials are placed in the Public Domain. Transcriber Note: Text emphasis denoted as _Italics_ and =Bold=. PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY, AT $3 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. THE DAGUERREIAN JOURNAL: Devoted to the Daguerrian and Photogenic Arts. Also, embracing the Sciences, Arts, and Literature. [Illustration] VOL. I. MARCH 1, 1851. NO. 8. NEW-YORK: S. D. HUMPHREY, EDITOR AND PUBLISHER, NO. 311 BROADWAY. SUBJECT TO NEWSPAPER POSTAGE.--See 3d page cover. CONTENTS. Etching Daguerreotype Plates, by W. R. Grove 225 Valuable Receipt 228 Painting--its Origin and History, by Wm. Walcott 229 Bromine 233 Nitrate of Silver decomposed by the current of a Galvanic Battery 235 Potassium-Cyanide or simple Cyanuret of Potassium 236 Stereo-Chromic Painting 236 Water--Spring, River and Lake 237 Isinglass 238 Papier-Mache 238 Chloride of Calcium 238 Muriate of Ammonia 238 Bromide of Silver Native Bromide of Silver and analysis 239 Hillotypes 241 Communication, by L. L. Hill 241 Removal 243 Our Daguerreotypes--Polishing Machine--Gurney-- Thompson--McBride--Weston--Morand 243 Correspondence--Jas. Bennett Sykes--W. S. Gear 244 Ammonia 245 An Army of Subscribers 245 Strange Announcement 245 Examples of the Divisibility of Matter 246 Iron--Its Natural and Artificial Combination with Carbon 247 New Weigh-lock at Albany 249 Daguerreotyping in London 249 Quick Stuffs--Six Receipts 250 Money received 251 Answers to Correspondents 251 Notice of New Publication 251 Advertisements 252 Artists' Register 255 WILLIAM S. DORR, Printer, 101 Nassau-St., New York. * * * * * THE DAGUERREIAN JOURNAL. Vol. I. NEW YORK, MARCH 1, 1851. No. 8. * * * * * ETCHING DAGUERREOTYPE PLATES. BY W. R. GROVE. Dr. Berres of Vienna was the first, I believe, who published a process for etching Daguerreotypes; his method was to cover the plates with a solution of gum-arabic, and then to immerse them in nitric acid of a certain strength. I have not seen any plates thus prepared, but the few experiments which I have made with nitric acid, have given me a burred and imperfect outline; and I have experienced extreme difficulty of manipulation from the circumstance of the acid never attacking the plate uniformly and simultaneously. My object, however, in this communication, is not to find fault with a process which I have never perhaps fairly tried or seen tried by experienced hands, and the inventor of which deserves the gratitude of all interested in physical science; but to make public another which possesses the advantage of extreme simplicity, which any one, however unskilled in chemical manipulation, may practise with success, and which produces a perfect etching of the original image; so much so, that a plate thus etched can scarcely be distinguished from an actual Daguerreotype, preserving all the microscopic delicacy of the finest parts of the impression. One sentence will convey the secret of this process; it is to make the Daguerreotype the anode[A] of a voltaic combination, in a solution which will not of itself attack either silver or mercury, but of which, when electrolyzed, the anion will attack these metals unequally. This idea occurred to me soon after the publication of Daguerre's process; but, being then in the country, and unable to procure any plates, I allowed the matter to sleep; and other occupations prevented for some time any recurrence to it. Recently having heard much conversation as to the practicability or impracticability of Daguerreotype engraving, I became anxious to try a few experiments in pursuance of my original notion; and for this purpose applied in several quarters for Daguerreotypes; but, thanks to the exclusiveness of M. Daguerre's patent, I found that to procure a sufficient number of plates for any reasonable chance of success, was quite out of the question. [A] Strictly speaking, this is a misapplication of Faraday's term; he applied it to the surface of the electrotype; as, however, all continental, and many English writers (among whom I may name Whewell) have applied it to the positive electrode, and as an expression is most needed for that, I have not hesitated so to apply it. On mentioning the subject to Mr. Gassiot, he, with his usual energy and liberality, offered to procure me a sufficiency of Daguerreotypes; and it is owing to his zealous and valuable coöperation that I have been able to get such definite results as appear worth publication. Five points naturally present themselves to the consideration of the experimenter on this subject: first, the quantity of the voltaic current; secondly, its intensity; thirdly, the distance between the anode and cathode; fourthly, the time during which the process should be continued; and fifthly, the solution to be employed. 1st. With regard to the first element or quantity, many previous experiments had convinced me that, to give the maximum and most uniform quantitative[B] action of any voltaic combination, the electrodes should be of the same size as the generating plates; in other words, that the sectional area of the electrolyte should be the same throughout the whole voltaic circuit. It seems strange that this point should have been so generally overlooked as it has been; an electrician would never form a battery, one pair of plates of which were smaller than the rest; and yet the electrodes, which offering of themselves a resistance to the current, from the inoxidability of the anode, are, _a fortiori_, a restriction when of small size, have generally been formed indefinitely smaller than the gene, rating plates; I, therefore, without further experiment, applied this principle to the process about to be detailed. [B] I say the quantitative action; for where great intensity is required, as in decomposing alkalies, &c., it may be advisable to narrow the electrodes, so as to present a smaller surface for the reaction of the liberated elements. 2nd. _The intensity of the voltaic current._--Here it appeared to me that, as in the electrotype, where the visible action is at the cathode, a certain degree of intensity throws down metal as a crystal, an increased intensity as a metallic plate, and a further intensity as a pulverulent mass; that degree of intensity which would show on the negative deposit the finest impressions from the cathode, would also produce on the anode the most delicate excavations, and consequently, an intensity which would just fall short of the point of evolving oxygen from the plate to be etched, would be the most likely to succeed; this point was not, however, adopted without careful experiment, the more so, as in one instance Mr. Gassiot succeeded in procuring a very fair etching with a series of ten pairs of the nitric acid battery; however, the results of repeated experiments, in which the intensity has been varied from a series of sixteen pairs to one of the nitric acid battery, were strongly in favor of the above idea, and, consequently, went to prove that one pair gives the most efficient degree of intensity for the purpose required. 3rd. _The distance between the plates._--As it was proved by De la Rive, that in an electrolytic solution, when the electrodes are at a distance, the action extends a little beyond the parallel lines which would join the bounds of the electrodes, and thus, that the current as it were diverges and converges, it appeared advisable to approximate the electrodes as nearly as possible, so as to produce uniformity of action over the whole plate. Provided a solution be used which does not evolve gas at the cathode, I am inclined to think that the plates may be with advantage indefinitely approximated; but as this was not the case with the solution I selected for the greater number of experiments, 0·2 of an inch was fixed on as the distance, in order that the gas evolved from the cathode should not adhere to the anode, and thus interfere with the action. 4th. _Time of continuing the operation._--This was a matter only to be decided by experiment, and must vary for the voltaic combination and solution employed. With a single pair of the nitric acid battery, from twenty-five to thirty seconds, was after a great number of experiments, fixed on as the proper time; and as the plate may at any period be removed from the solution and examined, the first experiment should never exceed twenty-five seconds, when, if not complete, the plate may be again subjected to electrolysis. 5th. _The solution to be employed._--Here a vast field was open, and still is open to future experimentalists. Admitting the usual explanation of the Daguerreotype, which supposes the light parts to be mercury, and the dark silver, the object was to procure a solution which would attack one of these, and leave the other untouched. If one could be found to attack the silver and not the mercury, so much the better, as this would give a positive engraving, or one with lights and shadows, as in nature, while the converse would give a negative one. Unfortunately, silver and mercury are nearly allied in their electrical relations. I made several experiments with pure silver and mercury, used as the anode of a voltaic combination, but found that any solution which would act on one, acted also on the other. All then that could be expected, was a difference of action. With the Daguerreotype plates I have used the following:-- Dilute sulphuric acid, dilute hydrochloric acid, solution of sulphate of copper, of potash, and of acetate of lead. The object of using acetate of lead, was the following:--With this solution peroxide of lead is precipitated upon the anode; and, this substance being insoluble in nitric acid, it was hoped that the pure silver parts of the plate, being more closely invested with a stratum of peroxide than the mercurialized portions, these latter would, when immersed in this menstruum, be attacked, and thus furnish a negative etching. I was also not altogether without hopes of some curious effects, from the color of the thin films thus thrown down; here, however, I was disappointed; the colors succeeded each other as much as in the steel plate used for the metallochrome; but With inferior lustre. On immersion in nitric acid of different degrees of dilution, the plates were unequally attacked, and the etching burred and imperfect. Of the other solutions, hydrochloric acid was, after many experiments, fixed on as decidedly the best; indeed, this I expected, from the strong affinity of chlorine for silver. I will now describe the manipulation which has been employed by Mr. Gassiot, and myself, in the laboratory of the London Institution, with very uniform success. A wooden frame is prepared, having two grooves at 0·2 of an inch distance, into which can be slid the plate to be etched, and a plate of platinum of the same size. To ensure a ready and equable evolution of hydrogen, this latter is platinized after Mr. Smee's method; for, if the hydrogen adhere to any part of the cathode, the opposite portions of the anode are proportionably less acted on. The back and edges of the Daguerreotype are varnished with a solution of shell-lac, which is scraped off one edge to admit of metallic connexion being established. The wooden frame with its two plates is now fitted into a vessel of glass of porcelain, filled with a solution of two measures hydrochloride acid, and one distilled water, (sp. gr. 1.1), and two stout platinum wires, proceeding from a single pair of the nitric acid battery, are made to touch the edges of the plates, while the assistant counts the time; this, as before stated, should not exceed thirty seconds. When the plate is removed from the acid, it should be well rinsed with distilled water; and will now (if the metal be homogeneous) present a beautiful sienna-colored drawing of the original design, produced by a film of the oxychloride formed;--it is then placed in an open dish containing a very weak solution of ammonia, and the surface gently rubbed with, very soft cotton, until all the deposit is dissolved; as soon as this is effected, it should be instantly removed, plunged into distilled water, and carefully dried. The process is now complete, and a perfect etching of the original design will be observed; this, when printed from, gives a positive picture, or one which has its lights and shadows as in nature; and which is, in this respect, more correct than the original Daguerreotype as the sides are not inverted; printing can therefore be directly read, and in portraits thus taken, the right and left sides of the face are in their proper position. There is, however, _ex necessitate rei_, this difficulty, with respect to prints from Daguerreotypes,--if the plates be etched to a depth sufficient to produce a very distinct impression, some of the finer lines of the original must inevitably run into each other, and thus the chief beauty of these exquisite images be destroyed. If, on the other hand, the process be only continued long enough to leave an exact etching of the original design, which can be done to the minutest perfection, the very cleaning of the plate by the printer destroys its beauty; and the molecules of the printing ink being larger than the depth of the etchings, an imperfect impression is produced. For this reason it appeared to me, that at present, the most important part of this process is the means it offers of multiplying indefinitely Daguerreotypes, by means of the electrotype. An ordinary Daguerreotype, it is known, will, when electrotyped, leave a faint impression; but in so doing it is entirely destroyed; and this impression cannot be perpetuated; but one thus etched at the voltaic anode, will admit of any number of copies being taken from it. To give an idea of the perfect accuracy of these, I may mention, that in one I have taken, on which is a sign-board measuring on the electrotype plate 0.1 by 0.06 of an inch, five lines of inscription can, with the microscope, be distinctly read. The great advantages of the voltaic over the chemical process of etching, appear to me to be the following:-- 1st. By the former, an indefinite variety of menstrua may be used; thus, solutions of acids, alkalies, salts, more especially the haloid class, sulphurets, cyanurets, in fact, any element which may be evolved by electrolysis, may be made to act upon the plate. 2nd. The action is generalized; and local voltaic currents are avoided. 3rd. The time of operation can be accurately determined; and any required depth of etching produced. 4th. The process can be stopped at any period, and again renewed if desirable. The time I have given is calculated for experiments made with one pair of the nitric acid battery; it is, however, by no means necessary that this be employed, as probably any other form of voltaic combination may be efficient. It would seem more advisable to employ a diaphragm battery, or one which produces a constant current, as otherwise the time cannot be accurately determined. It is very necessary that the silver of plates subjected to this process be homogeneous. Striæ, imperceptible in the original Daguerreotype, are instantly brought out by the action of the nascent anion; probably silver, formed by voltaic precipitation, would be found the most advantageous. I transmit with this paper some specimens of the prints of the etched plates, and of electrotypes taken from them; and in conclusion would call attention to the remarkable instance which these offer, of the effects of the imponderable upon the ponderable: thus, instead of a plate being inscribed, as "drawn by Landseer, and engraved by Cousins," it would be "drawn by Light, and engraved by Electricity!" * * * * * A valuable receipt, which every Daguerreian should have in his memory, has been suggested from the fact that one of our fraternity lost his hand by an accidental cut, caused while fitting a likeness in a locket, by the points of copper cutting the palm of his hand, in such a manner as to render amputation necessary. _White of eggs is the best antidote against the poison of copper._ * * * * * For the Daguerreian Journal. PAINTING--ITS ORIGIN AND HISTORY. BY WILLIAM WALCUTT. There is no doubt of painting being coeval with written language, or it may be said, that the simple representation of figures, on tablets prepared for the purpose, were the first means used by men to record particular events, actions, and so forth, and may therefore be dated back farther than any written language; and, indeed, may be considered the foundation from which it sprung, it being not improbable, because it is so natural, that the very first dwellers on the earth may have recorded their young history by means of representations of corporeal objects. Many will say that such rude delineations were not painting, but everything has its beginning. From these simple lines has the perfection of painting sprung, what Artist does not remember the feeble attempts he made at representations when but a child; does he not remember them with pleasure, and did he not then, and does he not now, consider them, feeble as they were, paintings? The first efforts at delineation were painting, without regard to color, or without regard to their truth in delineation. The origin of what may now be called painting, as an art instructive or decorative, is altogether involved in obscurity--authorities differing widely on the subject. Pliny dates its invention to a period antecedent to the siege of Troy, and other writers after. The Egyptians boasted of possessing the art six thousand years before the Greeks, but this has always been doubted. They certainly practised painting at a very early period, and Cambyses destroyed all the monuments of art he found in Egypt, as much as was in his power, which is some argument in favor of the statement; and hence all such monuments as display specimens of the art, must be posterior to his invasion. The remains of Egyptian painting, now extant, are but poor representations of the human, and other figures, showing a meagre advance in the art, being weakly and falsely drawn with no natural grouping or attempts at sentiment. The Phoenicians were an early cultivated people, and have the credit of first inventing letters, and therefore may, by the best authority, lay claim to the invention of painting. King Solomon, one thousand years before Christ, held their ingenuity in such high regard, that he employed them as the master workmen in building his temple, and the scriptures describe the magnificence of the columns and their capitals, and the borders and cornishes and the doors, besides the great brazen sea, supported by twelve oxen. The coins also of this people, that have come down to us, show in design, and execution, a good condition in the arts. The scriptures abound in references to the arts. When Jacob took away the daughter of Laban, she stole and secreted from search some of her father's household gods. One of the great commandments, is that the children of Israel shall "not make unto themselves any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in the heavens above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth." As before mentioned, the temple of Solomon appears to have been richly and elaborately decorated with works of art; and the IV chapter Ezekiel commences with these words: "Thou also son of man, take thee a tile, and lay it before thee, and portray upon it the city, even Jerusalem." And in the XXIII chapter, 14 verse, it is written thus: "For when she saw men portrayed on the wall, the images of the Chaldeans portrayed with vermilion, girded with girdles about their loins, exceeding in dyed attire upon their heads." Also in the VII chapter, 10 verse: "So I went in and saw and beheld every form of creeping things, and abominable beasts, and all the idols of the house of Israel, portrayed upon the wall round about." Also in Numbers XXXIII chapter and 52 verse: "Then he shall drive out all the inhabitants of the land from before you, and destroy all their pictures, and destroy all their molten images." The Persians, the Arabians, and the Parthians, from their peculiar education, have no claims whatever to the art of painting, a rude representation of the human figure, with them, was considered as vulgar as the appearance of a naked person. Their figures are almost invariably clothed in clumsy draperies, profusely painted. They were worshippers of fire, and used no representations of their deity; and it is a curious fact, that, in their successful invasion of Egypt, they carried away with them no taste for the arts, or imbibed any of the religious principles of that polytheistic country. The art of painting appears to have remained in the same state in China, without any particular change from time immemorial. They have never attempted anything beyond mere imitation, and that entirely devoid of taste or truth. The human figure, with them, is a ludicrous deformity, and their perspective is gained, by piling one object above another, until the picture as all ground and no sky. Invention and Imagination were never known among them; and, although the elaborateness of many of their works is astonishing, yet with such a people, it would be useless to look for the origin and progress of art. The arts of the Etruscans are famous for the vases they produced. Etruria, in its ancient state, was one of the most powerful and civilized countries in Italy. Though the history of this nation is involved in obscurity, as the Romans tried every means in their power to destroy all its claims to refinement, yet there are sufficient proofs remaining of the height and perfection to which they carried the fine arts. Near the town of Civita Vecchia stood the ancient Etruscan city of Tarquinia, near which are found numbers of sepulchral grottoes, many of which are decorated with paintings and figures much in the style of those on the Etruscan vases. Some of the pictures represent combats, and others dances of females, executed with considerable spirit. The pottery before mentioned, however, affords the greatest number of their specimens of the art of design; the forms displayed in the contour of the vases, no less than the paintings with which they are decorated, show the wonderful attainment in elegance of design, purity of form, and ingenuity of delineation. The power over line, and the facility of execution they reached, may be easily conceived from the absorbent nature of the material upon which they wrought. No retouching was possible; but the whole must have been completely arranged in the mind of the artist before it could be struck off. Pliny states, that in his day, the town of Ardea, an ancient city of Etruria, contained some paintings which he ascribes to a period anterior to the founding of Rome, and mentions with surprise their then perfect state of preservation. At Lacurium also, he describes some pictures of Atalanta and Helen, which were simply painted on the wall, and exhibited great merit in execution. These Caligulo, after a fruitless attempt, failed in removing. Cere, another Etruscan city, boasted some paintings of an early date. All these specimens, although of remote date, have no positive clue by which to ascertain anything positive as to the origin of the art of painting. And we are obliged to turn to Greece for the foundation from whence sprung works still the admiration of the world. Religion was the motive of Greek art; it was, therefore, natural that they should endeavor to invest their own authors, for they considered themselves of divine origin, with the most perfect forms; and as man possessed that exclusively, they completely and thoroughly studied the elements of his constitution. The climate was favorable to the development of that form, and the establishment of exercises by their civil and political institutions, created models in nature, which elevated Greek art to the highest excellence. The next step of the art was the monogram, which is the outline of figures without light or shade, with the addition, however, of parts within the outline. From this the monochrom, or painting with a single color, and a white ground, then covered with punic wax, first amalgamated with a resinous pigment generally of a red, sometimes of a dark brown or black color, was the next advance. Through this inky ground, the outlines were traced with a firm though plyant style, called a cestrum: the line could be altered by the finger or a sponge, and easily replaced by a new one. When the whole was settled, it was suffered to dry, and covered with a brown encaustic varnish; the lights were worked over again, and rendered more brilliant with a more delicate point, according to the gradual advance from mere outline to some indication; and at last to masses of light and shade--thence to the superinduction of different colors, or the invention of polychrom, which, by the addition of the pencil to the style, raised the stained drawing to a legitimate picture, and at length produced that vaunted harmony--"the magic scale of Grecian color." The period at which the pencil supplanted the cestrum cannot be ascertained. Apollodorus in the 93d Olympiad, and Zeuxis, in the 94th, are said to have used it with freedom and power. Parrhasins painted the battle of the Lapithtæ and centaurs on the shield of Minerva for Phidias, to enable Mys to chase it. It was nearly a century after this that Appelles and Protogenes had a competition in drawing lines with the pencil, in which "delicacy and evanescent subtlety being the characteristic, some notion of their mechanical skill may be formed." Encaustic painting was accomplished by using the colors in wax, as they are used now in oil, drying them by a fire, and polishing the surface by dry friction. Polygnotus is the first great name that appears in history, that any satisfactory data of the arts may be commenced from. He lived about 400 years B. C. So great was his success in the Poecile at Athens, and the Desche, or public hall at Delphi, that in a great council of the Amphyctons, it was solemnly decreed "that his expenses, whenever he travelled in Greece, should be borne at the public charge." His pictures were admired by Pliny, at the distance of six hundred years. The first painting on record is the battle of Magnete, by Balarchus, and purchased by Candaules, King of Lydia, for its weight in gold, or, as some say, a quantity of gold coins equal to its surface. After Aglaophon, Phidias, Panenus, Colotes, and Evenor, the father of Parrhasins, came Apollodorus, the Athenian. This painter applied the essential principles of Polygnotus to the delineation of the species, by investigating the leading forms that discriminate the different classes of human qualities and passions. The acuteness of his taste led him to discover, that, as all men were connected by one general form, so were they separated by some peculiar individuality. Pliny and Plutarch considered Apollodorus as the first colorist of his age, and it is very probable, by their descriptions, that he was the inventor of local color and tone. Zeuxis succeeded to Apollodorus, and by uniting in one figure the most perfect parts of many models, produced an ideal form, which, in his opinion, constituted the supreme degree of human beauty. Lucian describes a picture he exhibited at the Olympic Games as remarkable for its invention. It represented a female centaur, suckling her young. It was carried off from Athens by Sylla, but lost on the voyage to Italy. Parrhasins, a native of Ephesus, but a citizen of Athens, was the son of a disciple of Evenor, and contemporary of Zeuxis. By his subtle examination of outline, "he established that standard of divine and heroic form, which raised him to the authority of a legislator, from whose decisions there was no appeal." He was a thorough master of allegory, from the fact of his embodying by signs, universally understood, the Athenian people. In a competition with Timanthes, he had the mortification of being declared, by a majority of votes, inferior to him. The subject for competition, was the contest of Ajax and Ulysses for the arms of Achilles. The sacrifice of Iphigenia in Aulis, by Timanthes, acquired the greatest celebrity of all the ancient pictures. Quintilian says that it was painted in contest with Colotes of Teos--an artist from the school of Phidias, and crowned with victory at its rival exhibition. This picture, which has been the subject of unlimited praise by the ancient critics, has been in modern times objected to, from the circumstance of Timanthes hiding the face of Agamemnon, the father of the victim, to be immolated in his mantle, unable, as it was supposed by his art, to express the entire agony of his grief. Sir Joshua Reynolds observes thus: "If difficulties overcome make a great part of the merit of art, difficulties evaded can deserve but little commendation." The French critic Falconet, has also condemned the artifice. But Fuseli answers these objections very reasonably by saying,--"The subject of Timanthes was the immolation of Sphigenia. Sphigenia was the principal figure, and her form, her resignation, or her anguish, was the painter's principal task; the figure of Agamemnon, however important, is merely accessary, and no more necessary to make the subject completely tragic, than that of Dytemnestra, the mother--no more than that of Priam, to impress us with sympathy at the death of Polyxenia." Again, "they ascribe to impotence what was the forbearance of judgment." Timanthes felt like a father; he did not hide the face of Agamemnon, because it was beyond the power of his art--not because it was beyond the possibility, but because it was beyond the dignity of expression--because the inspiring feature of paternal affection at that moment, and the action which of necessity must have accompanied it, would either have destroyed the grandeur of the character, and the solemnity of the scene, or subject the painter, with the majority of his judges, to the imputation of insensibility. The same expedient was resorted to by M. Angelo, in the figure of Abijam, and by Raphael in the expulsion from paradise. These were the artists who formed the second school of art, and established its end and limits. On it was founded the third period of style, in which refinement induced a grace and beauty not to be surpassed. The masters of this period were--Appelles, Protogenes, Aristides, Euphranor, Pausius, and the pupils of Pamphilius, and his master Eupompus. The last named artist was of Sicyon; and his authority was so great, that out of the Asiatic and Grecian chords of painting he formed a third, by dividing the last into the attic and Sicyonian. Pliny says that, when consulted by Zysippus on a standard of imitation in art, he pointed to the crowd passing by--observing that nature, not an artist, should be the object of imitation. Pamphilius, a Macedonian, the master of Appelles, adopted the doctrines of Eupompus. To the art of painting, he joined the study of mathematics, and held, that, without the aid of geometry, no artist could arrive at any perfection. In Appelles, we are told by Pliny, unrivalled excellence was found. Grace was his powerful and peculiar faculty, in which he surpassed all his predecessors. His Venus Anadyomene, which was long after purchased by Augustus for one hundred talents, or £20,000 sterling, was esteemed the most faultless creation of the Grecian pencil, the most perfect example of that simple yet unapproachable grace of expression, of symmetry of form, and exquisite finish, in which may be summed up the distinctive beauties of his genius. Hotogenes was next to him in merit. The most celebrated of his works was his figure of Jalysus, with his dog, which occupied him seven years. Aristides, of Theles, and cotemporary of Appelles, was the first, who, by the rules of art, obtained a perfect knowledge of expressing the passions and affections of the mind. In one figure, he expressed the anguish of maternal affection, and the pangs of death. Euphranor, the Isthmian, and pupil of Aristides, is said to have carried this refinement of expression still further. Skilled in Sculpture, as well as in Painting, his conceptions were noble and elevated; his style masculine and bold; and he was the first who distinguished himself, by imparting majesty to his heroes. Asclepiodorus, the Athenian sculptor, as well as painter, was as the latter, celebrated for the beauties of a correct style, and the truth of his proportions. Appelles allowed himself to be, in these respects, as much his inferior to this artist as he was to Amphion on the good ordering and disposition of his figures. About this period appeared Nichomachus, Nichophanes, Pyreicas and others. Nichias, an Athenian, 322 B. C., was in great repute for the great variety and noble choice of his subjects, for the mode of distributing his lights and shadows, and for great skill in the representation of animals. In Rome, 300 B. C., Fabius, a noble Roman, painted the Temple of Health, and gloried so much in the art, that he assumed the name of Pictor. Without a further enumeration of masters, for a long period after the reigns of Vespasian and his son Titus, painting, as well as sculpture, continued to flourish in Italy. Even under their successors Domitian, Nerva and Trojan, they met with as much encouragement as they did in the most palmy days of Greece, although painting was used in mere ornamental decorations--that is, to a great extent, and artists had sunk, for the most part, to the standard of mere mechanics. Under Adrian, Antonine, Alexander Severns, Constantine, and Valentinian, the art of painting continued to be an object of interest; but at length, in the reign of Phocus, with the fall of the Empire, with the rest of the noble arts and sciences, it was involved in the common heap of ruins. (To be continued.) * * * * * BROMINE. We give the folk wing interesting combination and experiments with bromine, as found in Hill's Treatise:-- "Discovered in 1826, by M. Balard, a young chemist of Montpellier, France. He named it _Muride_, because obtained from the sea; but it acquired its present name from a Greek word, signifying _rank_, or _dead odor_." It exists in nature in very small quantities. It is found in the waters of every sea which has been tested for it: it is also found in many mineral and salt springs. We have not been able to determine to whom belongs the honor of discovering its use as an accelerator in Daguerreotype. Having corresponded with Prof. Morse, (who was certainly one of the first who took portraits by the Daguerreian process,) Dr. Draper, and others, to whom this honor has been awarded, they refuse to claim it. Prof. Silliman, who is supposed to know everything relating to science, writes to me that he does not know this. I am quite inclined to place the wreath on the brow of the inventor of the Magnetic Telegraph. Process.--When common salt is prepared from sea-water by evaporation and crystallization, a liquid remains which goes under the name of _bittern_. This liquid on passing chlorine through it, is tinged with a deep yellow color. The liquid is now distilled, and the vapor passed over a substance, (muriate of lime), which has a powerful attraction for water. A small quantity of bromine is thus obtained.--Another method is to agitate the chlorinated bittern with a portion of sulphuric ether. The ether dissolves the bromine, from which it receives a beautiful red tint, and on standing, rises to the surface. Agitate this solution with caustic potash, and the bromide of potassium and bromate of potassa will be formed. Evaporate the liquor and the bromide of potassium will be left from which bromine may be distilled. Properties.--At common temperatures, it rapidly volatilizes, giving red vapors of a most disagreeable smell. Its color, when held between the eye and the light is a deep hyacinth red. Like oxygen, chlorine, and iodine, it is a non-conductor of electricity, and a negative electric. It boils at 116·5°, and congeals at 40 Fahr. into a brittle solid. It is a powerful poison; even its vapor would no doubt prove fatal, if inhaled in large quantities. A single drop placed in the beak of a bird destroys it instantly. Operators cannot be too cautious in using it. A very small drop spattered in the eye would destroy the sight. Bromine is very corrosive. A lighted taper burns for a few moments in its vapor, with a flame green at its base, and red at the top, and is then extinguished. It is soluble in water, alcohol, and ether; the latter is the best solvent. With water at 32° Fahr., if forms a _hydrate_, in crystals of a fine red color. It gives to a solution of starch an orange color. Chlorine will displace it from all its combinations with hydrogen. Chloride of Bromine.--Formed by transmitting a current of chlorine through bromine, and condensing the disengaged vapors by a freezing mixture. The factitious article is more simply formed, and is equally good as an accelerator, but not as quick. See page 25, Part I. M. Bissou, a Frenchman, found that the real chloride of bromine is so sensitive, that Daguerreotype proofs are taken by it in half a second. He succeeded in taking persons and animals in the act of walking. Bromic Acid may be obtained by pouring sulphuric acid upon a dilute solution of bromide of baryta, and evaporating. No interest. Bromide of Baryta.--Boil of protobromide of iron with moist carbonate of baryta; carefully evaporate and it will crystallize in white rhombic prisms, which have a bitter taste, are slightly deliquescent, and soluble in water and alcohol. Bromide of Carbon.--Formed by mixing one part of periodide of carbon with two of bromine. Two compounds are formed, the _bromide of carbon_, and the _sub-bromide of iodine_; the latter is removed by a solution of caustic potassa. It is liquid at common temperatures, but crystallizes at 32° Fahr.; sweet to the taste, and of a penetrating ethereal odor; distinguished from the protiodide by the vapor which it emits on being heated. The _periodide of carbon_ is made by mixing an alcoholic solution of pure potash and of iodine. It forms crystals of a pearly lustre, sweet to the taste, and of a saffron odor. The _protiodide_ is formed by distilling a mixture of the preceding compound with corrosive sublimate. Sweet in taste, and of a penetrating ethereal odor. Bromide of Magnesium.--Dissolve magnesia in hydrobromic acid. It will crystallize in small acicular crystals, of a sharp taste, very deliquescent and soluble. Bromide of Sulphur.--Pour bromine on sublimed sulphur. There is formed an oily liquid of a reddish tint. Bromide of Phosphorus, is formed by bringing phosphorus and bromine into contact in a jar filled with carbonic acid gas. Vaporizes by heat, and is decomposed by water. Bromide of Silicon, is prepared by burning silicon in the vapor of bromine. A very dense, colorless liquid, emitting dense fumes. We have used this article as an accelerator, and it produces a beautiful but singular picture. It works quick, but possesses no particular advantage. Bromide of Zinc.--Prepared by digesting a solution of bromine with zinc filings. The iodide is formed in a similar manner. No interest. Hydrobromic Acid.--Mix the vapor of bromine with about an equal bulk of hydrogen gas, and introduce a coil of red-hot platinum wire. Red-hot iron answers equally well. The combination takes place slowly without explosion. Or, it may be formed by placing a small piece of phosphorus in a glass tube filled with water, and dropping it upon a little bromine. The hydrobromic acid passes over in the form of a gas, and may be passed through water, which will absorb it. _Hydriodic Acid_ is formed in the same way, using iodine in place of the bromine. Hydrobromic acid is decomposed instantly by chlorine and nitric acid. The French and German bromine is generally considered the best; but the American manufacture is by no means to be rejected, as it is frequently very excellent. Bromine is sometimes adulterated with naphtha. * * * * * NITRATE OF SILVER. DECOMPOSED BY THE CURRENT OF A GALVANIC BATTERY. Mr. Matteucci has observed that the black deposit obtained on the cathode, in the electrolysis of this salt, instantaneously becomes white when the current ceases; that it does not occur except when the solution is weak, because from strong solutions, crystalline silver is at once deposited; that if a portion of the deposit, after it has became white, be suspended between the electrodes while the current passes, those portions towards the anode again become _black_, if the experiment is made in a solution of the nitrate, but not if in mere acid water; it will, however, occur if a mere drop of nitrate is added to the solution, if a plate of a glass is interposed between the electrodes, the phenomenon does not occur; this is attributed to the great reduction of intensity. It is suggested "that the black deposit is formed, of oxide of silver, which is preserved by the passage of the current, and which, when the current ceases, passes immediately to the metallic condition." * * * * * OXIDE OF SILVER. Place pieces of silver in a glass vessel,, and pour on them about equal parts of water and strong nitric acid; the metal will soon dissolve, giving off fumes of nitric oxide. Should the solution have a green hue, which is invariably the case, unless the metal has been obtained fine from the refiners, it indicates the presence of copper, in which case immerse some pieces of copper in the solution, and the nitric acid, by elective affinity, will combine with the copper; and a precipitate of pure silver, in the form of grayish powder, will take place. Throw away the liquid and wash the silver precipitate several times in sulphuric acid and water, and afterwards in water alone. Then re-dissolve it as before, in nitric acid and water; and a _solution of pure nitrate of silver_ will be obtained. Place this in an evaporating dish, or a saucer, and apply the heat of a spirit-lamp, or place the saucer by the fire-side, till some portion of the liquid is driven off in vapor. Allow the residue to cool, and it will shoot out into long colorless transparent crystals, which are _nitrate of silver_. They must be handled with care, as they possess the property of staining animal and vegetable substances with an almost indelible black;--fused nitrate of silver being the lunar caustic of surgery, and the main ingredient of marking-ink. Next prepare some _lime-water_, by stirring lime into water and filtering the solution. As lime is very sparingly soluble in water, requiring, at 60° Fahrenheit, 750 times its weight, it is necessary to make an abundant supply. Place the lime-water in a glass or other vessel, and drop in it a few crystals of nitrate of silver; the colorless solution will instantly assume an unsightly brown hue; and, after remaining quiescent for a time, the _oxide of silver_ will subside in the form of a dark brown precipitate. The liquid is then poured off, and the precipitate is washed with water. Before throwing away the liquid, fresh lime-water should be added to it; and if the dark hue recurs, the precipitate must be allowed to subside again; if no change takes place, it may be inferred that the silver is all extracted. The oxide of silver should not be dried, but be kept in bottles with water. * * * * * POTASSIUM. CYANIDE OR SIMPLE CYANURET OF POTASSIUM. Before entering into the preparation of this ingredient, I may mention that the _prussiate of potash_ of commerce has, by many young experimentalists, been mistaken for the above article, because it is often sold, by those unacquainted with chemical technicalities, under the name of _cyanuret of potassium_. It is, in chemical parlance, termed _ferro-cyanuret_, from its containing a certain portion of iron; and differs in its properties, very materially, from the _simple_ salt. It is of a bright yellow color, and is converted into the colorless, simple cyanuret in the following manner: Take 4 ounces of the yellow prussiate, break it in small pieces, and well dry it on a plate of iron; then reduce it in a mortar to exceedingly fine powder. Dry and pound in like manner one and a-half oz. of carbonate of potash. Incorporate the two ingredients thoroughly. Place a Hessian crucible in the fire; and when it attains a red heat, throw into it the prepared mixture, and closely cover the crucible. Keep up the heat, and the contents of the crucible will soon fuse; and the fluid mass will become red-hot. After this, immerse in it, from time to time, a hot glass rod; the mass which adheres, is in the early stages of the process brown on cooling; as the heat is continued, it appears yellowish, and finally, colorless and transparent. The operation is then complete: the crucible must be removed; and after its contents have been allowed to settle, the fused mass may be poured off; the greater portion of which consists of the _simple cyanuret of potassium_. This salt is very deliquescent, and must therefore be retained in close bottles: it will readily be recognized by its powerful odor,--that noticed in peach blossoms. The mere mention of prussic acid entering largely into its composition, will be sufficient to induce my reader to exercise common caution in handling it. Having these ingredients prepared, take one pint of pure rain or distilled water; add to it two ounces of the cyanuret of potassium, shake them together occasionally, until the latter is entirely dissolved; and allow the liquid to become clear. Then add a quarter of an ounce of oxide of silver, which will very speedily dissolve; the dissolution may be hastened by heat, and after a short time, a clear transparent solution will be obtained.--_Walker._ * * * * * STEREO-CHROMIC PAINTING. A new mode of fresco painting, called _Stereo-chromie_, which has for a long time excited attention among the artists of Germany, has it appears been perfected by a pupil of Kaulbach, in his own studio in Munich. The design is Kaulbach's, and the work was executed under his superintendence. It represents the figure and character of a Prophet, and will be sent to the London Exhibition. 'The figure, grand and majestic as it really is, cannot be expected to convey to the English public anything but a faint idea of the genius and skill of Kaulbach,' but as a specimen of this new and wonderful mode of painting, it will be regarded, by artists, with the greatest curiosity. _Stereo-chromie_ was discovered by _Obergrath von Fuchs_, a distinguished chemist; and is considered by German artists as one of the greatest discoveries of the age. They claim for it great advantage over ordinary fresco and encaustic painting, in its superior durability and the power which it affords the artist of retouching and glazing his picture. The colors are mixed with water, the whole being permanently fixed by occasional sprinklings of water, in which a certain proportion of fluoric-acid (_Flassspath saurs_) is mixed. _Stereo-chromie_ is in fact a preserver of the wall on which it is painted, By a certain chemical action of the solution sprinkled over the picture, while in progress, the whole ground on which it is placed, and the picture itself becomes one hard flinty mass, the very colors of which are converted into the hardest stone. This singular species of painting resists, it is said, every influence of climate; and may be securely used as an external coating for buildings in any part of the globe. Neither is the artist confined to any particular time in executing it, leaving off when he pleases and for any length of time. In these points it is a most important recommendation, which cannot by any means apply to fresco work, nor, except within certain limits, to oil painting. The highest advantage of all, however, is that the same part may be painted over as often as the artist please, which is impossible in fresco; and consequently the most perfect harmony may, by this new mode be preserved throughout the largest possible painting. In fresco the artist is the slave of his materials; here, he is the arbitrary master and to the fullest extent.--_Banner of the Union, Pa._ * * * * * WATER. Water intended to aid in conducting chemical experiments, should, so far as possible, be free from all foreign substances. As the Daguerreotype process is one of the most difficult in the range of chemical science, the Daguerreian should have at hand the best that circumstances will admit. We have learned, from experience, the disadvantages attendant on those who travel in the country, from village to village in the practice of the Daguerreotype art. When _Distilled Water_ can be obtained, it should be used. It must have no smell, taste, or color; it must evaporate without leaving a residue; it must give no precipitates with solutions of nitrate of silver, chloride of barium, superoxalate of potash, caustic alkalies, carbonated alkalies, sulphurated hydrogen, or hydrosulphate of ammonia. _Rain Water_ generally contains carbonic acid, carbonate of lime, and chloride of calcium. _Spring Water_ contains the same impurities as rain water, superadded to chloride of sodium, sulphate of lime, carbonate of iron, &c. _River Water._--More free from salts than spring water, but often contains a large quantity of decomposing vegetable and animal matter. This is particularly the case with water taken from the Hudson, from Troy to its mouth; also, the Mississippi, and, in fact, almost all large streams which are navigated. _Lake Water._--All descriptions of stagnant water abound in half-putrified organic remains, as all well know, that the smaller the bulk of liquid, as in the case of the swamp or marsh, the more impure and the more unwholesome it is. _To purify Water._--Much has been said about purifying water for Daguerreotype use. We look upon this, so far as chemical agents are employed, in most instances a loss of both time and money; let every one _filter_ the water for use _often_ and freely and we will guarantee that _success_ will be his reward. We will class water in the following order:-- 1, Distilled water; 2, rain water; 3, brook water; 4, well water; 5, spring water; 6, river water: yet the water from some of our Western lakes would, we think be fully equal to rain water. We have used the water from Seneca lake, and have found it possessing less animal and vegetable matter, than found in the water from any well which we have been compelled to use. * * * * * Isinglass, as it is generally called fish glue, is prepared from the air-bladders of the sturgeon. It is found in commerce under various forms, such as large strings, small strings, and leaves. It is always white, semi-transparent, dry, fibrous, horny, of a faint odor and insipid taste. When a very thin leaf is moved between the eye and the light of the sun, a species of chatoyance is perceived. If macerated in cold water, Isinglass swells and softens; if boiled in water, it dissolves almost without any residue and forms a solution, which, on becoming cool produces a semi-transparent jelly. There are several counterfeits, but all are easily detected. * * * * * PAPIER-MACHE. Papier-Mache.--Pulped paper moulded into forms. It possesses great strength and is a valuable article in the manufacturing of cases for Daguerreotypes. It may be rendered partially water-proof by the addition of sulphate of iron, quicklime, and glue, or white of eggs, to the pulp; and incumbustible by the addition of borax and phosphate of soda. The papier-mache Daguerreotype cases, tea-trays, waiters, snuff-boxes, &c., are prepared by pasting or glueing sheets of paper together, and submitting them to powerful pressure, by which the composition acquires the hardness of a board when dry. Such articles are often inlaid with mother of pearl, and japanned, and are then perfectly water-proof. * * * * * CHLORIDE OF CALCIUM. Chloride of Calcium.--This is so easily manufactured that any Daguerreotypist can make it with but little difficulty. Saturate dilated muriatic acid, say three pints of water to one of acid; this should be filtered through a sponge and then allowed to stand until all the aquus solution has evaporated and the calcium crystallized. This may be improved by it being placed in a crucible; and fused with a quick fire, then poured out on a flat stone. When cold, it should be broken and put in close bottles. This is much used by Daguerreotypists as it possesses a strong affinity for water; consequently, it is a valuable auxiliary in keeping the iodine dry. It is also much used for drying gases and absorbing water from ethereal and oily liquids, in organic analyses. * * * * * MURIATE OF AMMONIA. Muriate of Ammonia--_sal-ammoniac._--This is used by _few_ to bleach Daguerreotype impressions, and relieve them of the "_blues_;" should, however, the plates be _well_ cleaned and the mercury at a proper temperature, there will be no need of this preparation: yet, as a number have requested, we give the following combination, knowing that all Daguerreotypists are troubled more or less with solarized impressions, they may be more particularly with the _blues_. Make a saturated solution of muriate of ammonia, in pure water, and filter through paper. This reduced with an equal quantity of water before used; when the linen or any portion of the impression is badly solarized, after removing the coating with the hyposulphite solution, thoroughly rinse the plate with water, then pour the bleaching solution over the surface of the impression in the same manner as in gilding. If the solarization be very deep, apply the lamp beneath and slightly warm the plate, pour suddenly off, and without rinsing, quickly apply the gilding and gild in the usual way. The whole operation must be quickly performed, or the chlorine soon attracts the shade of the picture. There may be instances when this solution may prove of advantage, as, for instance, when black velvet and milk white are wanted in the same impression. We have seen it operate with pleasing success; but repeat that _few_ only use it, yet as in a single instance it might be of value, we have given it. As much of the muriate of ammonia, in common, is adulterated, we will give a few tests which all can try. When pure, this salt is totally volatilizable by heat; if a small portion on being heated on a piece of platinum foil over a spirit lamp leaves any fixed residue, it is adulterated. It should dissolve entirely in water; if it leaves an _insoluble residue_ it is adulterated. The impurities generally found in sal-ammoniac, are sulphate of ammonia, sulphate of soda, chloride of sodium, and chloride of potassium; neither of these are considered injurious in the _bleaching solution_. Occasionally it contains lead, iron, and copper. The presence of sulphuric acid may be detected by means of a diluted solution of _chloride_ of barium, added to a weak solution of muriate of ammonia, in water, this will produce a white precipitate, which is the more copious and dense, the less the liquor is diluted. If it contains lead add to a small portion of it, contained in a test tube, a little diluted _sulphuric acid_, or a few drops of a solution of _sulphate of soda_ (glauber's salt), if the liquid contains lead there will be prevalent a white powder, or precipitate, this powder scarcely dissolves at all in diluted acids, but it dissolves in a solution of caustic of potash: _iron_, mix a solution of the yellow prussiate of potash with a solution of red prussiate, a few drops of this added to a weak solution of muriate of ammonia will produce a blue precipitate; _copper_, pour about half an ounce of the liquid in a test tube, and add to it a few drops of liquid ammonia, if copper is present, the liquid will assume a blue color. Sal-ammonia is known by giving out the odor of ammonia when mixed with caustic of potash: when sal-ammonia possesses a _brownish_ color, it indicates the presence of charcoal, or empyreumatic oil; such sal-ammoniac is good for some purposes, but wholly unfit for _chemical purposes_. When sal-ammoniac leaves a non-volatile residue, it may contain _sulphate of soda_. This is the principal cause of failures with the bleaching solution, as the sulphate of soda has a tendency to blacken rather than bleach Daguerreian impressions. The sulphate of soda as well as the chloride of sodium, is often found in unpurified sal-ammoniac to the amount of ten per cent. When sal-ammoniac contains much sulphate of ammonia, it fuses and sputters before it sublimes; whereas it otherwise sublimes without fusing. When sal-ammoniac, sublimes without residue, but gives a precipitate when its solution is tested with a solution of chloride of barium, it contains sulphate of ammonia; but when it leaves a non-volatile residue, the precipitate indicates sulphate of soda or sulphate of magnesia. * * * * * BROMIDE OF SILVER. NATIVE BROMIDE OF SILVER AND ANALYSES. M. Berthier says, that in the district of Plateros, seventeen leagues from Zacatecas in Mexico, silver ore is found in two different states; first, native silver; and secondly and principally in a state of combination in small olive-green or yellowish crystals, supposed to be chloride, but which he found to be bromide of silver. According to M. Duport, from whom M. Berthier received these specimens, this substance is not rare in Mexico, but occurs frequently in fine cubic and octahedral crystals. The specimen examined by M. Berthier was from San Onofe. It was compact, of a slightly reddish gray color; fracture uneven; splendent; penetrated with small cavities, some of which were partially filled with a substance of a dull pale yellow color, and which the miners call oxide of lead; other cavities contain very small imperfect crystals; which are brilliant, and of a pale olive green-color, and have the appearance of chloride of silver. This specimen was very rich, for it yielded 0.0688 of silver, and contained 0.45 of carbonate of lead, which, intimately mixed with quartz and a little oxide of iron, formed the principal portion of the mass. M. Berthier has also found this mineral among the silver ores of Huelgoeth, department of Finistère in France. Two specimens were obtained by him: the first of these is described as being porous or scoriform, containing white quartz imbedded in foliated hydrate of iron. On the edges of the foliated iron ore the naked eye could distinguish small cubic grains of a pearl-white color, which had all the characters of chloride of silver. The second specimen had the appearance of compact oxide of iron, containing here and there milk-white quartz; it was throughout impregnated with chloride of silver, which occasionally appeared in the form of very small brilliant crystals. To analyze this mineral, 10 grammes were first treated with ammonia, and heat to dissolve the chloride of silver, and afterwards by boiling hydrochloric acid to dissolve the oxide of iron; this acid also dissolved a certain portion of lead, which probably was in the state of phosphate. The quartzose residue weighed 32.6 grammes: it contained 0.17 gramme of silver, which must have been in the metallic state: the ammoniacal solution gave by boiling and saturation with nitric acid, 1.84 gramme of chloride of silver, which, supposing it to be pure, contained 1.40 gramme of silver, which, added to 0.17 gramme remaining in the quartz, gives a total of 1.57 gramme; a result which differed so very little from that obtained by essaying, as to prove the absence of bromide of silver, and that this was the case was confirmed by additional experiments. After this a third specimen was received from Huelgoeth; it was very small, but as rich as the foregoing, and in it there were distinguishable, besides granular cubic crystals of chloride of silver, other grains of an olive-green color, which had exactly the same appearance as the bromide had. Plateros and the following experiments proved the presence of the substance. Five grammes of the pulverized mineral were boiled in a solution of oxalic acid, until the oxide of iron was perfectly dissolved: the residue weighed about a gramme, and it evidently contained a mixture of canary-yellow and white grains. It was digested in hot solution of ammonia until all the yellow powder disappeared; it required a large quantity of the alkali for this purpose, which would not have been the case to dissolve pure chloride. The solution was gradually saturated with nitric acid, and it was observed that the successive deposits formed had an evident yellow tint, but gradually diminishing in intensity, except the last, which were white. The yellow deposits were collected and examined in the following manner:--A portion was treated with chlorine and æther; the æther became of a yellow color. Another portion was dissolved in ammonia, hydrosulphate of ammonia was added to the solution, and the black precipitate formed was separated, and was found to be pure sulphuret of silver. The liquor was concentrated by exposure to the air, and filtered to separate the sulphur which was deposited; a little potash was then added, and it was evaporated to dryness; acetic acid was added to saturate the excess of potash, and it was again dried. To determine whether the saline residue contained a bromide, a small portion of it was treated in a tube with pure nitric acid, and a yellow liquid was immediately obtained. Another portion was mixed with peroxide of manganese, and the mixture was placed in a glass tube; a few drops of concentrated sulphuric acid were added, and when gently heated, red vapors were immediately disengaged, and alter some lime there were deposited on the sides of the tube small drops of a red liquid. The existence of bromine was therefore evident, and it was proved that the bromide was unmixed with iodide. Bromide of silver appears to be rare at Huelgoeth; but it may be readily distinguished from the chloride by its greenish or canary-yellow color, which is characteristic of it. It is remarkable that it occurs with the chloride in the same specimens, but without there being an intimate mixture of the two substances. * * * * * =The Daguerreian Journal.= =NEW YORK, MARCH 1, 1851.= =HILLOTYPE.= Since the announcement of the Hillotype, in the last number of the Daguerreian Journal, quite an excitement has prevailed, both in the Daguerreotype and scientific world. The great question has fairly been solved and "_natural colors_" can be produced and rendered indelible upon the metallic plate. America can safely say she has presented to the world one of the most invaluable discoveries that has ever been imprinted upon the pages of history. Men profound in their scientific skill and learning, have long and in vain sought for the discovery or invention of some means of securing to the future, the colors of the present. All Europe has been alive to this great desideratum, and many have presumed it an impossibility, while some few persisted, flattered by hope and encouraged by the almost daily announcement of some new discovery or invention, that heretofore had been deemed only as having existence in the dreamy imagination or a perspective future. We hail the discovery of the Hillotype as an epoch bright in the history of science, as well as impregnated with interest to aid in unfolding a volume of investigation which has so long commanded the attention of learned and philosophical minds, as the "_colored rays of light_." The subject of reflected light and its colors has long agitated the scientific mind. Much has been said and written; elaborate and laborious "Essays," "Researches" and "Treatises" have penetrated our libraries and proved valuable auxiliaries in pushing the interest of those engaged in furthering agricultural and chemical pursuits. This branch of natural science is regarded as one of the most important, and, at the present moment, it is rendered doubly interesting from the fact of Mr. Hill's discovery. We may look forward for new developments, which will prove no less surprising than that of rendering permanent, on a metallic plate, the variegated beauties of the solar spectrum. We are, as it were, standing upon an eminence from which we can survey the present, retrospect the past, and almost sketch the bright outline of a coming future. Here lies a field for animated speculation, in which nature's student can satiate his appetite in the study of nature, in a province hitherto unknown and unexplored; he may here realize truths purely sublime, painted in the glowing "colors of nature," and rendered prominent upon the tablet of his memory. We present the following communication from Mr. Hill, which our readers will peruse with pleasure: * * * * * For the Daguerreian Journal. S. D. Humphrey, Esq.;--Being detained here a day on my way from your city, I relieve myself a little from the tedium of delay, by a few scribblings to your valuable Journal. I will give a few particulars respecting my pictures, &c. I have now fifty-five specimens. They are all equally perfect. It is quite remarkable that I have never yet made a partial failure. Those impressions which have had too much light, are nearly as strong, sound, brilliant and beautiful as those correctly timed in the camera, being inferior only in having the colors less deep. Even the whites retain their strength. The folds of the linen are always well defined. Blue or solarized linen is unknown in my process, and there is always a strength and clearness in the whites, unattainable by mercury. During the past winter I have several times taken a view in which there is a deep red house, while the ground was covered with snow. For experiment I exposed the plate so long as to reduce the bright red of the house to a _very light red_, while at the same time, the white snow was developed with a beautiful whiteness. I have copied several very highly colored French prints. The copies are far superior to the originals, in that, while they have _every_ tint of color, they are exceedingly brilliant. This is a characteristic in which I never fail, even with the plates merely cleaned with rotten stone--the brilliancy depending on _other causes_. Well polished plates, however, are preferable for other reasons. It is _essential_ that the plates should be very pure, free from scum? dampness, and organic matter of every kind, and I am experimenting with different substances, in hopes of finding something that will more perfectly cleanse, while it thoroughly polishes. I would be very thankful to any person who might furnish me with valuable hints on this point, as I am convinced that here lies one great cause of uncertainty. My trouble with the _yellow_, which you mentioned in the last number of the "Daguerreian Journal," relates only to the homogeneous rays, orange, buff, and all the various shades of yellow come out true except the _chrome yellow_ which appears less brilliant. This, however, is thought by distinguished artists, no serious objection. My late visit to your city was much shorter than I could have wished. I called on a number of Artists, and the cordial manner in which they congratulated me has added much to my kindly feelings towards the fraternity, and strengthened my resolution to give all worthy Daguerreotypists and Artists, my process on terms which I believe will be satisfactory. As far as this is concerned, please say to such their interests are safe in my hands. I met with but one person anyway sceptical, and he is willing to be more fully satisfied when he "sees the pictures," which is very fair I am sure. While it is very cheering to me, in my truly arduous duties, to review the kind congratulations of my brother Artists, the most I am entitled to _claim_ in an age when almost every announcement is regarded as humbug, is that the Daguerreian world will give me a fair chance to perfect my discovery. A few have seen my pictures, and their expressed opinions agree with mine, viz., that these pictures will astonish the world. I saw in your city, in the hands of Mr. Hite, Artist, some exquisite ivory miniatures. It astonished me that the human hand could paint "the form of the human face divine," in such a mode; but I pleasantly said to the Artist, what I now repeat in all seriousness, that the pictures by my process necessarily exceed in beauty the finest productions of the painter, they being drawn by light and painted by sun-beams. I have heard several rumors while in the city, in respect to my designs in the disposition of my discovery. Allow me to say, for the information of all concerned, that my purpose is _unalterably_ fixed to avoid _monopoly_, and to take a course which will put the process into general use. To-morrow I start for my "mountain home," and with my invigorated health and spirit, I hope to resume my toils with a prospect of bringing out my process at an early day. I remain, fraternally yours, L. L. Hill. Woodstock, Ulster Co,, N. Y., March 12, 1851. * * * * * [Hand] We are highly gratified to find many of our fellow Daguerreotypists are cordially welcoming us on by manfully and numerously sending us their names for the Daguerreian Journal for one year. When we commenced our editorial labors we launched our hark upon a sea never before thought safe for regular navigation, but we find only few snags in the way, and these are every day lessened by our close application and the assistance of kind friends. No man knows his friends until they have an opportunity to prove themselves. With but few exceptions, all who subscribed for the Journal for the first four months have sent us two dollars worth of the "root of all evil," for their subscription for the balance of the year. We _bow_, and _thank you!_ May you never get in a "Fog." * * * * * [Hand] T. Antisell, M. D., has been appointed Professor of Chemistry in the Vermont Medical College, at Woodstock, Vt. He is now fulfilling his professional duties at the above named institution. * * * * * [Hand] Mr. J. E. Mayall of London, has promised us an article on "Photographing on Glass." This will appear as soon as received. * * * * * [Hand] Our old and learned friend Mr. Finley of Canandaigua, promised us a communication. Where is it? * * * * * [Hand] Removal.--In our last we noticed our removal to No. 252 Broadway; this was the case, but we found on consulting a carpenter in relation to putting in a sky-light, he declared it unsafe. The consequence was, that we at once abandoned the idea, and soon made very satisfactory arrangements with Mr. Insley, the well and favorably known proprietor of the _Insley Gallery_. Once again we are settled and would be happy to see all who feel an interest in the Daguerreian and Photogenic arts. _The Office of the Daguerreian Journal is at No. 311 Broadway._ * * * * * Our Daguerreotypes. We are assured by one in whom we have all confidence, and withal! capable of judging, that there is now in progress a machine for cleaning and buffing plates. This machine is an ingenious and valuable contrivance, and it is said will polish a plate in one-sixth of the time required by any other process. The whole done without handling the plate. _We hope so._ * * * * * Gurney has recently taken some of the finest large size Daguerreotypes ever produced. These wonderful specimens are on plates eleven by thirteen inches, called mammoth plates. Such pictures four or five years ago would have filled the world with admiration and surprise. The chemical effect is clear and well worked, thus proving well prepared plates can present large as well as small impressions. It is well worth while for every Daguerreian visiting this city, to look upon these proud specimens of the art. * * * * * Thompson of this city, has just taken the whole of the upper floor of the building occupied by him, and has built two fine sky-lights. * * * * * We understand that Mr. H. McBride, operator for Meade & Brother of this city, is about to establish himself in Albany. We wish Mr. B. success. * * * * * Weston of this city, is now producing some of the best Calotypes we have seen. We are happy to see Photographing on paper brought before the public. Daguerreotypists should call and see Mr. W's. specimens, as well also those produced by Messrs. Bertha, Wehnest, Beekman & Brothers, who have been for some time past successfully practising in the art of "Sun Drawing." * * * * * A. Morand has recently made very extensive additions to his former establishment in Chatham street. We now find him lighting his subjects by a large and well arranged sky-light. * * * * * Correspondence. S. D. Humphrey, Esq., Dear Sir:--I would fain give my testimony in favor of your excellent Journal, which is to the Daguerreian, as a guide to the traveller, and pilot to the untaught mariner. It needs but to meet his eye for him to appreciate its value and secure its aid, while following in his misty pathway. I have long since learned that "experience is the best teacher," but now since the advent of the Journal, all who would be relieved of difficulties incident to Daguerreian life, may find the cause of _atmospheric troubles--bad light--poor subjects--clouded results_, &c., reflected on its pages, and thus, by close application, prevent the many evils which so frequently attend them, and thereby learn that "an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure." But there are those in the business who do not seem to discover any difference between the profile on the school-boy's slate, and the best "aqua-tinta" engraving. _They_ never have any trouble in producing _perfect_ results at _every_ sitting, and _that_ for the sum of one dollar or fifty cents. No wonder the writer of the article on Daguerreotypes in No. 5 of the Journal, says "_Daguerreians_ are not _artists_, nor Daguerreotypes works of _Art_, but _mere wonders of Nature_." When Daguerreians adopt the motto--"Good pictures and fair prices," they may lay claim to the enviable name of Artist, and not before. The Daguerreian art is the most difficult art to practise with _perfect_ success, that has ever yet been discovered. A _perfect_ Daguerreotype is the result of a series of the most careful, delicate and complicated experiments ever conceived of by the human mind. I have been considerably amused in perusing the Journal, in reading communications from sources where I am acquainted. They remind me of the old adage--"All is not gold that glitters," for they appear to far better advantage in print, than as _Artists_. But enough of this. In conclusion, permit me to speak of a method of copying pictures, which, if new to any of your readers, they will find it well worthy of the trial. I find, by placing the picture to be copied where the rays of the sun may fall obliquely upon the plate, all reflection is thrown off, and the image appears in the camera, clear and distinct, even if the original be very faint. It also shortens the time of exposure to from one to five seconds. Respectfully yours, Jas. Bennett Sykes. Owego, March 4, 1851. Note.--We think this is rather sharp firing, but, as it is already met by the "Artists" referred to, we give it. We do like _spice_, and well seasoned articles, but don't get too personal. A man may have been born in a _stable_, but it is no _sign he is a horse_. We hope the above from Mr. S. was not prompted by "a spirit of rivalry and animosity," but rather for the good of all, as no doubt it will so prove. Give us a _pop_ from the other side. [Ed. * * * * * Daguerreian Journals Lost.--The following Telegraph Dispatch was received at the Daguerreian Journal Office on the 13th. "What is the reason of your not sending me my Journals? W. S Gear." The following was our answer forwarded per mail on the same day. Daguerreian Journal Office, New York, March 13th, 1851. Dear Sir:--Your Telegraph Dispatch came to hand. In answer,--I do send a Journal directed to you as often as published. The last was mailed last Friday, i.e. the February 15th number, that being the last out. I find it takes nearly as many to furnish the Post Offices as my subscribers; however, I try it again and send one to-day. Respectfully, S. D. Humphrey. W. S. Gear. We wish that the persons, wishing the Daguerreian Journal would furnish us with their names--("no questions asked") and they can have a copy forwarded,--thereby our _honest_ subscribers would receive their Journal regularly. We do know that we put the Journal in the Post Office--but we don't know _why_ so many of our subscribers do not receive them. There is no doubt but that our Journal is valuable, and should be in the hands of all, yet it is with us as with most brother editors, we are unable to furnish copies gratuitously. * * * * * AMMONIA. Ammonia should be a perfectly colorless liquid; when concentrated its specific gravity should be 0·9. It must have a pure ammonial odor, and must volatilize without any residue. It must not become troubled when mixed with alcohol, or lime water, otherwise it contains carbonate of ammonia. Neither must it for the same reason, become troubled when tested with a solution of chloride of barium; this is the best test for carbonate of ammonia. Care is to be taken to observe the action of the test on its first addition, for after the mixture has been exposed to the air for a few minutes, a troubling necessarily ensues, because the ammonia abstracts carbonic acid from the atmosphere. When super-saturated with nitric acid, and tested with a solution of _nitrate of silver_, it must give no white precipitate; otherwise it contains sal-ammoniac. It must give no precipitate with a solution of chloride of barium, otherwise it contains sulphuric acid, in which case, the precipitate will be invisible in nitric acid. It must give no precipitate with a solution of oxalic acid or superoxalate of potash; otherwise it contains lime. When saturated with nitric acid and tested with a solution of yellow prussiate of potash, it must give no precipitate; otherwise it contains copper. When mixed with its weight of oil of vitriol, it must not become brown or black; otherwise it contains empyreumatic oil. As it is quite difficult to obtain ammonia entirely free from carbonate of ammonia, or to preserve it in that state, the employment of ammonia containing a small portion of the carbonate is admissible in the practice of the Daguerreotype. * * * * * An Army of Subscribers.--It is computed that the regular subscribers to the _New York Sun_, standing side by side, and each occupying eighteen inches space, would form a line _seventeen miles, fourteen rods, and three yards long_. Standing with arms extended, and occupying six feet each, they would reach _sixty-eight miles, fifty-eight rods and one yard_, &c. &c.--_Sun._ Let us see if we also cannot get up some astonishing statistics: The regular subscribers to the _New York Tribune_, standing in single file, each holding fast to the other's coat-tail, would form a line 176 miles, 7 rods and one yard long. Allowing that each could hop, skip and jump the distance of 4 yards, their simultaneous performance of this feat would extend from Cape Horn to Baffins Bay. Supposing they all sneezed at once, the vibration of the air would overthrow the spire of Trinity Church. In reading the 48 columns of our double sheet every morning, the distance travelled by their eyes would reach twice round the earth. There! Is that enough?--_Tribune._ Wonder if the Tribune's calculations is made from the actual measurement of the "tail" of the "old white coat?" If so its not fair, for Horace has the advantage over the modern fashion. * * * * * Strange Announcement.--We see by a Georgia exchange, that some one in that State is taking "Daguerreotypes as low as seventy-five cents." Our Devil says "Barnum is after the _wonder_, and intends having him early this Spring." * * * * * EXAMPLES OF THE DIVISIBILITY OF MATTER. All that has been written in support of what is termed the "Infinite Divisibility of Matter," has been advanced with an oversight of certain axiomatic principles which immediately decide the question in the negative. Indeed, it would suffice to say that there can be no such thing as a division of matter into an infinite number of parts simply because there can be no such thing as an infinite number of any thing. Number is essentially finite, and although, in imagination, it can be extended indefinitely, it never can be positively infinite, at any period of futurity, from the very fact that we can always conceive of its being extended still farther. Even as an ideal extension of parts, it has always a beginning and an end, at any given time we may assume for measuring it, and is, therefore, never infinite in itself at any time. In this respect it differs essentially from infinite space, which having no parts, is positively infinite at all times. Number is a convenient instrument wherewith to obtain an idea of infinite space, or of infinite duration, on account of its capacity for endless extension or continuation; and it is because we can ideally extend and continue it forever, without even approximating to a measurement of space and duration, that we discover the latter to be absolutely infinite, and number to be absolutely finite. We discover that between the capacity for endless extension and endless extension itself, there is a manifest and decided difference. Under any circumstances, therefore, the term infinite, as applied to the divisibility of matter, is unphilosophical and improper. All the matter in the universe is finite, and if it were to be doubled, or quatrilliontupled, every instant of time, to all eternity, it would never become infinitely extended. And, by the same rule, it can never become infinitely subdivided. If, however, by the term "infinite divisibility," as applied to matter, is merely meant its capacity for interminable subdivision, then the question resolves itself either into one of speculative fancy or of practical fact. If the former, then it must be admitted that, by an effort of the imagination, we can conceive of such a divisibility beyond any assignable limits. But if we regard the question as a practical one, it immediately becomes too absurd for serious attention, since it is evident that human power, limited in all things, must be so in producing artificial subdivisions of matter. However unlimited, therefore, the capacity of matter may be for divisibility, that of human beings, in relation to it, must be narrow indeed. When chemists, therefore, and other philosophers, speak of the divisibility of the present ultimate atoms of matter, they must, however unconsciously, regard them in relation to human ability, and thus far the question may become one of experiment. But the question as to whether matter can actually be subdivided indefinitely and without end, is one readily answered in the negative, by the known inability of mankind to continue an endless experiment of this kind. The whole question therefore, concerning the illimitable divisibility of matter, which has been discussed from the earliest period of science to the present day, is frivolous, fruitless, and irrational. As matter now exists, not only its ultimate atoms, but even its constituent molecules, are as inconceivably minute, as its aggregations are vast. Taking an exemplification, from organic matter, we find that a single drop of a strong solution of indigo, in which at least 500,000 parts are rendered distinctly visible by the microscope, colors 1,000 cubic inches of water, and as this quantity of water is at least half a million of times greater than the drop of indigo solution, the particles of indigo must be smaller than 2,500,000,000,000, the twenty-five hundred millionth part of a cubic inch. If we dissolve a particle of silver, of 0.01 of a cubic _line_, in size, in nitric acid, it will render distinctly milky 500 cubic inches of a clear solution of common salt; and, consequently, the magnitude of each particle of silver thus divided and diffused, must be somewhat less than the billionth part of a cubic _line!_ So great a number as a billion being but imperfectly conceivable, it may render the idea of this minute division more distinct, by stating that to count a single billion of seconds, by a watch, every day and night without ceasing, would require 31,675 years. In gilding silver wire, it is found, by calculation, that a grain of gold is spread over 1,400 square inches; and as, when examined by a microscope, the gold upon the thousandth part of a linear inch is distinctly visible, it is demonstrated that gold may be divided into particles of at least the billionth, 400 millionth, of a square inch in size, and retain the color and all other characteristics of a California prize. If a grain of copper be dissolved in nitric acid, and then in water of ammonia, it will give a decidedly violet color to 392 cubic inches of water; and, therefore, if there was but one particle of copper in each portion of the water of the size of a grain of sand, of which one million make a cubic inch, it would show that the original grain of copper had become divided into 392 particles. This extreme tenuity of matter, however, is far surpassed in some examples which may be adduced from organic sources. It is upon authentic record that an Irish girl has spun linen yarn, of which one pound was 1,432 English miles in length, and of which, therefore, 17 pounds and 13 ounces would have girt this world; and yet less than the 127 millionth part of this thread would have been distinctly visible, and must have contained other filaments still finer, each of which must have been composed of an indefinite number of smaller particles, themselves, in all probability of complex organization, and containing certainly, minuter atoms of carbon, besides those of gaseous matter. If we employ the microscope, far greater wonders of divisibility than these appear, even in the complex organization of animal life. Ehrenberg has shown that tripoli, a mineral much used in the arts, is entirely composed of the siliceous shells of the microscopic animalcula, known as infusiorials, and that a single cubic inch of it contains at least _forty-one thousand millions_ of these shells!--about fifty times as many individuals as there are of human beings on the globe. Yet each of these minute animals lived and fed; had digestive and circulative systems, with blood possessing globules as large, probably, in proportion, as those of ours, besides nerves of sensation and inclination, with brains belonging to them, together with muscles and every other mechanical apparatus for the extremely active locomotion and propagation which they so interestingly exhibit. And every new improvement in the microscope reveals new races of animals, apparently created for their own enjoyment, and of which millions heaped on millions, would be utterly invisible to the unaided eye.--These facts prove that things are great and small only by comparison with each other, and not in relation to infinity, with which no comparison can be instituted. And they prove, moreover, that vain, boastful, and bigoted man, is not the sole object of creation, nor of the profound benevolence, contrivance and design, with which it is universally replete.--_Art's Echo._ * * * * * IRON--ITS NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL COMBINATIONS WITH CARBON. The question is often asked, what constitutes the difference between wrought iron, cast iron and steel? Cast Iron, when viewed under favorable circumstances, by the help of a microscope will be found to be a mechanical aggregation of molecules of _iron and carbon_; and the relative position of these particles may be illustrated by a pile of cannon balls as usually arranged in navy yards, each alternate ball being iron and carbon (charcoal). If a mass of cast iron be heated until softened, and then _puddled_ (squeezed), the carbon will be forced to the surface, and will there combine with the oxygen of the atmosphere, forming carbonic acid or carbonic oxide gases, and thus pass off. When all the carbon has been parted with, the mass is called Wrought Iron, and may then be welded, when at proper heat, but cannot be melted--_the hottest blast furnace will not melt wrought iron_. Wrought iron at red heat combines rapidly with oxygen, and becomes oxide of iron--thus a joint of stove-pipe thrown into a furnace will never melt, but by contact with atmosphere will change into oxide of iron, and thus be practically lost. This operation is technically called _burning_. If a piece of wrought iron be surrounded by carbon (charcoal) finely pulverized, and the whole enclosed in a sheet iron vessel to exclude the air, and this placed for a sufficient length of time in a furnace constructed for the purpose, the iron will imbibe an atomic quantity of carbon, and become Steel. This process is called _cementation_, and steel so made can be melted as readily as cast iron. Thus it will be seen that both cast iron and steel are combinations of iron and carbon, and in the same proportions, but not in the same state of combination. In cast iron, the carbon and iron are a mere _mechanical combination_, while in steel the iron and carbon are combined _chemically_.--Wrought iron, when pure, is free from carbon, and its ductility, toughness, &c., are due to the absence of carbon, sulphur, phosphorus, and other substances, with which it is occasionally pervaded. The French chemists are experimenting, and occasionally succeeding by accident, in causing heated iron to take the carbon from carbonic acid and other gases containing carbon, and thus becoming steel more rapidly, and at less cost, than when made by the process of cementation. Mr. Dixon, of Jersey City, has succeeded in making steel direct from the Adirondack iron ore, while Peter Cooper, Esq., Mr. Dickinson, and others, are manufacturing wrought iron direct from the iron ores of New-Jersey without first forming the pig or cast iron, and of course at less expense, as the saving of fuel is very great. The process of _case-hardening_, or changing the immediate surface of iron utensils into steel, is readily performed by covering their surfaces with such organic substances as contain carbon as a constituent, and then subjecting them to high heat for short spaces of time--thus the roller of a paper or sugar mill may be case-hardened by a coating of prussiate of potash, or of leather chips, and then subject the whole to high heat, excluded from atmospheric influences. By this process the gelatine and other constituents of the leather are reduced to carbon, and this enters the surface particles of the iron, converting them into steel. Many hypotheses are offered for this action, and among others, that "_the ultimate particles of matter are always in motion_," admitting the ingress of particles travelling in smaller orbits between them. The friends of this hypothesis offer as proof, that a fresh cast sash-weight when broken is a gray mass, while one taken from an old building, and broken, is beautifully crystalline, from the centre to the outside, like speculum metal. A freshly drawn piece of tin pipe when suddenly bent opposite the ear gives no crackling sound, and if broken has no crystalline structure, but if left at rest for one hour it has both. Barbers often tell us that razors get tired of shaving, but if laid by for thirty days they will then shave well. By microscopic examination it is found that the _tired razor_, from long stropping by the same hand and in the same directions, has the ultimate particles or fibres of its surface or edge all arranged in one direction, like the edge of a piece of cut velvet; but after a month's rest, these fibres re-arrange themselves heterogeneously, crossing each other and presenting a saw-like edge, each fibre supporting its fellow, and hence cutting the beard, instead of being forced down flat without cutting, as when laid by. These and many other instances are offered by the friends of the hypothesis named, to prove that the ultimate particles of matter are always in motion, and they say that in the process of welding, the absolute momentum of the hammer causes an entanglement of orbits of motion, and hence a re-arrangement, as in one piece; indeed, in the cold state, a leaf of gold laid on a polished surface of steel, and stricken smartly with a hammer, will have its particles forced into the steel so as to permanently gild it at the point of contact. The oxidation of metals is equally curious, and the length of time necessary for the formation of an infinitesimal coating of oxide is less than the one-thousandth of a second. This fact may be readily proved: a clean surface of steel, free from oxide, when brought in contact with mercury (quicksilver) will amalgamate, but if the least oxide be upon the surface no such effect will take place. Prepare a trough containing quicksilver, and place a bar of steel above it, and within one inch or less of the surface of the quicksilver--break this bar with a smart blow from a hammer, so that the blow which breaks it shall at the same time force the broken ends into the quicksilver, and although the time occupied by the ends in passing through one inch of atmosphere before reaching the surface of the quicksilver will be immeasurably short, still they will be so oxidized as not to amalgamate with the mercury; if, however, the bar of steel be confined at its ends below the surface of the quicksilver, and then be broken _upwards_, by a lever applied to its centre, the ends of the broken bar will be beautifully amalgamated before reaching the atmosphere above. The reason for the success of the last named experiment is doubtless due to the absence of oxide of iron, when broken beneath the surface of the mercury. J. J. MAPES. * * * * * New Weigh-lock at Albany.--A writer in the _Courier and Enquirer_ gives a description of the great weigh-lock that has just been erected at Albany, for the purpose of ascertaining the tonnage of canal boats. Heretofore long and vexatious delays have been the result, while now, a boat is brought into the lock, and in a time which would have scarcely sufficed in other days to have ascertained the weight of a small parcel, the unerring register on the beam, has registered its weight, and the record is on the books of the office. The weigh-lock is directly on the side of, and attached to the large canal, and is adapted to the use of such boats as shall hereafter be built, when the locks throughout the entire length of the canal shall be of the uniform enlarged size. * * * * * Daguerreotyping in London.--In a recent letter from J. E. Mayall, dated London, February 11th, he writes in his postscript:--"While I write this letter we have the gas lighted in the streets--1 o'clock P.M., and I write by gas-light." We must confess that the Daguerreotypists are in the "Fog" enough in this country, but if "Old Sol" should get blocked up at that early hour, we don't know what would become of our "Foggy" Daguerreotypists here. * * * * * The ground side of the "Ground Glass" should face the lenses. * * * * * Mercury baths should always be kept covered with some porous wood, in order that the mercurial vapors cannot escape in the room. * * * * * QUICK STUFFS. We have endeavored to guard against giving useless receipts, thereby saving our Daguerreotypes a tax which would prove in most instances of no benefit. As many have requested us to publish a variety of receipts for Quicks. We give them with but little comment. We will number each combination: No. 1. Take pure rain or distilled water, one quart filtered through paper into a bottle having a ground glass stopper, and add one and a half ounces of chloride of iodine for warm weather, or little less for cold weather. The reason of this is obvious, from the fact that during the warm summer day, the bromine is far more volatile than in a winter day. To the above add one ounce of best American bromine, and shake well. Now, with care, to prevent, as far as possible, the escape of gas, add, drop by drop, thirty drops of aqua ammonia, shaking well the mixture at each drop. It is necessary that caution be observed, and not add more at a time than three drops of the aqua ammonia, as otherwise it evolves too much heat. _Use._ Put in the box one part quick to eight parts water. Coat to dark yellow over dry iodine, and change to a deep rosed color over the Quick; recoat over iodine one-tenth. No. 2. Lime water, one quart; chloride iodine, one ounce; add three-fourths of an ounce of bromine--shake well. _Use._ Put in box one part quick to six water; coat to bright yellow over iodine; to rose over the quick, and recoat one-fourth. No. 3. Take rain or distilled water, one quart; add pulverized alum until it is a little sour to the taste; and a small piece, say one half inch square, of magnesia,--Filter through paper, and add chloride of iodine, one half ounce; bromine sufficient to take it up, which is a little less than half an ounce. _Use._ One part quick to six parts water; coat over iodine to a soft yellow, nearly, but not quite bordering on a rose; over the quick to a dark purple or steel; recoat from one-sixth to one-tenth. The above works slow, but with a good light and proper management it can be made to produce as good impression as any combination known, yet it is not so easily managed as No. 1. No. 4. Rain or distilled water, one gallon; bromine, one and a half drachm; sulphuric acid, two and a half drachms; hydrochloric acid,[C] two drachms.--Shake well as each is added in the above order. [C] This acid dissolves glass with great rapidity. It is purchased in leaden bottles. A single drop on the skin would make a sore difficult to heal. Daguerreotypists should bear in mind that the accelerating chemicals used in the Daguerreian art, are of the most volatile substance, and more difficult to experiment with than all other in the range of chemical science. When hydrofluoric acid is to be measured, the graduated glass should be partly filled with the mixture to which you intend adding it. _Use._ To one ounce water, add from fifteen to thirty drops quick; coat over an incipient rose; over quick, nearly change the color to fair rose; recoat about one-third or one-fourth as long as at first coating. The coating box should be charged strong enough to change the plate in from _one_ to _four seconds_. One advantage this mixture possesses, it will work in one-half the time required for any of the foregoing combinations. One very serious objection to its use is, it cannot, without great care, be made to work with certainty; and another objection is, it will not last long, as the box will require to be replenished after having coated from _eight_ to _fourteen_ plates. The older, however, this mixture is, the more certain in its operation. We have one gallon which has been made _two years_. No. 5. _Dry Quick._ We have already given this preparation in a former number of this Journal. No. 6. _Acidulated Quick._ Water, one pint: bromine, ten drops; chloride of iodine, forty drops; nitro-muriatic acid, one-fourth ounce; sulphuric acid, two drops. _Use._ One part quick to ten parts water; coat over iodine to orange; over quick to rose red; recoat one-fourth. There are thousands of different combinations and agents employed, and, after all, let every Daguerreian make up his mind to first _become acquainted_ with some _good_ combination of bromine and iodine, there will be less complaining of _Quicks_. _Money received since our last Number._ W. A.; M. R.; F. S. H.; J. W. O.; S. B. D.; H. O. N.; T. O.; J. H. F.; S. B. B.; M. P. B.; A. B.; J. H. V.; W. A. J.; J. E. M.; M. M.; H. H. L.; J. W. H.; S. N. R.; N. E. S.; R. B. A.; H. S. B.; D. C.; T. C. D.; C. H. G.--each $2. G. & B.; D. McD.; S. P.; M. S. U.; C. T. M.; S. S.; W. R. R.; S. B. jr.; E. N. H.; C. W. T.; J. M.; S. H.; N. C.; C. M. H.; J. B.; J. B. R.; W. O. G.; N. P. S.; L. O.; A. T.; W. S. W.; N. E. R.; D. G. K.; L. Q. V.; H. K.; Y. M.; A. G.; U. B.; D. A. N.; V. T.; W. O. O. V.--each $3. S. B. & CO.; M. & B.; P. C.; T. C. D.; S. & S.; H. & M.; M. W. N.; G. D. A.; J. S.; A. T. W.; M. A. H.--each $5. N. E. S.; T. C. D.--each $10. M. S. $15. B. F. $34. * * * * * ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. W. O. R., Mo., Mr. R. writes--"Will you have the kindness to inform me of any new process for preparing phosphate of iron. I make the request more particularly to obtain a process by one Mr. Routh, who I understand has a new process." The preparation referred to by Mr. R., was read before the London Medical Society, January 11, 1851, by Dr. Routh, at which time he exhibited specimens of phosphate of iron made by dissolving the ordinary phosphate in meta-phosphoric acid, and by then evaporating to degrees. It has been found that this form of iron is exceedingly useful in cases where iron is desired. W. B. N., Mexico--Mr. N. says--"Will some of your subscribers give, through your Journal, a practical and first-rate process for producing Calotypes?" We hope some of our "subscribers" will furnish the same. H. B. T., Ohio.--Mr. T. says--"Will you give a ready and easy method of detecting chlorine? I find in a former number of your valuable Journal, that you have been making experiments with this gas. I have had remarkable success with this gas, although not a practical Daguerreotypist." Mr. J. will find 'this gas' is readily distinguished from other gases by its color, odor, and bleaching properties. Probably the most simple method of detecting free chloride is to hold a rod dipped in aqua ammonia over it, when white fumes will be formed. Will Mr. J. have the kindness to forward to us his experiments--we would like much to lay them before our readers. A Stock Dealer, in one of the Southern States, writes--"What articles of stock will be less needed by artists, provided Mr. Hill's process proves true, of producing pictures with all the 'colors of nature?'" _Colors and brushes!_ J. W. S , Mich.--We forwarded the article you ordered, and enclosed the balance in the package. The view camera you had better order soon, as it will be some time before Mr. Harrison can get it ready, he having so many orders now on hand. You had better have one of Lewis's _new_ Camera boxes. T. J. C., Va.--We cannot recommend the articles you speak of; they involve only an old vague principle, and are only worthy the person having them in charge. A. G. L., Pa.--The money received and forwarded to Europe--your plan may work, but it looks a little too "opaque." You will find by heating an iron plate, and applying it to your apparatus, will facilitate the operation much. Chapman has the exclusive right to the patent. E. W., Miss.--See page 24, Daguerreian Journal. R. M. H., Ala.--You will find "Silliman's Journal" a great aid and valuable work, published the first day of every second month, price $5 per year. New Haven, Conn. See answer to L. I. G., page 187. * * * * * NOTICE OF NEW PUBLICATION. The New York Register of Medicine and Pharmacy, published semi-monthly and edited by Dr. C. D. Griswold. This valuable Medical Journal is fast making its way into the medical ranks with marked energy. Its age is about the same as ours, and we are happy to see that with us it is prosperous; every number is received and read with pleasure. We find the following pithy notice in the Register, which is only one of many from the cute pen of the Editor, who it seems has 'cut up' as well as received a "New Dido." "We were presented with the first number of the "New Dido" by the publisher, and from the title, at first supposed that it might be in some way connected with the medical profession, inasmuch as some 'pranks' in a medical way have been 'cut up' in poetry, but in looking it over, we find that a couple of 'chaps' have started off for a drive, although what they are 'driving at,' the author has not yet disclosed. We think it likely enough they may "turn out" students, for they are evidently after subjects, which no doubt will be brought to light in the next number."--Good, Dr., that is worth the Dollar for the subscription. We have also received the 15th of March number, which has a fine likeness of Dr. John W. Francis. * * * * * =ADVERTISEMENTS.= =HILL'S= TREATISE ON DAGUERREOTYPE. TWO VOLS. IN ONE. The whole Art made easy, _and all the recent improvements revealed_. Containing also--The Process for Galvanizing Plates, and the whole Art of Electrotype; the Reproduction of Daguerre's Images by Tithonotype; an account of Calotype Paper, and other methods of Photogenic Drawing &c. By L. L. Hill, Westkill, Greene Co., N. Y. CONTENTS. History of Photography; Theory of the Process; Description of Apparatus; Account of Stock, such as Plates, Cases, Chemicals, and other articles to be purchased forming a complete Daguerreian Directory; Recipes, a large number; Polishing Plates; Coating the Plate; Camera; Mercury; Gilding; Coloring; Calotype, Tithonotype, &c. The above is but a partial outline of the subjects treated in this work. Nothing is omitted which is necessary to render any person of the requisite judgment and taste "a workman that need not be ashamed," The _Recipes_ have cost the author more than $500, and no pains or expense have been spared to render the work a complete Manual of Daguerreotype. TESTIMONIALS. The following extracts from a large number of highly flattering Testimonials from distinguished Artists and others: M. A. Root, an eminent Daguerreian, Philadelphia says, "I can freely say yours is, in my opinion, a most valuable Treatise on the Art of Daguerreotype." From the _Albany Express_, "We would recommend this useful work to all practising the Art." E. Jacobs, a celebrated Operator, New Orleans, says, "I have perused the work with much gratification as being much needed in the Art. I can sell a large number to pupils." From the _Ulster Telegraph_, Saugerties, N. Y.: "Those acquainted with the Christian character, and extraordinary skill of Mr. H. in Daguerreotyping, need no recommend from us. His pictures are perfectly exquisite, and his modes of operating of the most simple and scientific character. The Book will be a treasure to those engaged in the Art. It is one of those rare works which is as good as its title-page, and we heartily recommend it to the Daguerreian fraternity." Orders should be directed to S. D. Humphrey, Agent, New York. Also for sale, as above, price $2, a pamphlet by the same author, on the Magic Buff, Plate-Making, Fixing Process, Celerotype, &c. * * * * * =TO DAGUERREOTYPISTS,= WANTED--A PARTNER to engage in the Daguerreotype business. One having from Five Hundred to One Thousand Dollars can now have an unequalled opportunity to join with one of the best Artists in the country, the advertiser possessing unequalled advantages for opening a Room in this city, now offers a rare chance to any one possessing the above amount of capital, none other need apply. Applications to be made by letter, which will be _confidential_, and addressed, _post-paid_, to the Editor of the Daguerreian Journal, References must accompany the answer to this, and real name stated. A chance for Daguerreotypists out of the City. * * * * * =PETER SMITH,= Importer and Dealer in Tubes, Apparatus, Plates, Cases, Chemicals, and every article appertaining to the Daguerreian Art. No. 36 Fifth Street, Cincinnati, Ohio. * * * * * =LOUIS BECKER= Well known CHEMICALS, for sale at Becker & Piards, No. 201 Broadway, N. Y. * * * * * =DAGUERREIAN ESTABLISHMENT.= JOHN ROACH, Optician, 79 Nassau Street, New York. Has always on hand VOIGHTLANDER INSTRUMENTS, quarter, half, and whole size. American Instruments, Roach's make, warranted to be superior to any yet made in the United States. They work with sharpness, and quickness, and persons purchasing can test them with the high priced German Instruments. Coating Boxes, Flint Glass Jars, cemented in, and ground air tight. Mercury Baths, with Thermometer Scale in front. Head Rests, Stands, Cases, Chemicals, &c. Plates, French 40th of the Star, and other first quality Brands. Bromine Roach's Triple Compound, now called Quick-stuff, works with certainty and quickness, in all weather, and pictures taken with it have a rich white tone. GALVANIC BATTERIES, &c. * * * * * =DAGUERREOTYPE GOODS ONLY.= ANTHONY'S NATIONAL DAGUERREIAN DEPOT. _205 Broadway, N. Y._ THE attention of Daguerreotypists, and the Trade, is respectfully invited to my assortment, which I believe to be unequalled in extent and variety. Plates, Frames, Case- Cases, Cameras, Makers' Chemicals, Apparatus, Materials, of every style and size. For Sale, price $1 per copy, beautifully bound in cloth, the standard work, second edition, enlarged and greatly improved, the History and Practice of the Art of Photography, or the production of Pictures through the agency of light, by H. H. Spelling, illustrated with thirty-five engravings. Goods can be forwarded to order, to any town or village in the United States or Canada, and the bill collected on delivery of the goods, provided such town has connection by express with New York. Where there is no such connection, Daguerreotypists would do well to order their goods to the nearest express town. E. ANTHONY, _Importer and Manufacturer of Daguerreian Materials._ N.B.--Good journeymen Case-Makers wanted, to whom steady employment will be given. * * * * * =BENJAMIN FRENCH,= _No. 109 Washington Street, Boston._ DAGUERREOTYPE Apparatus, Plates, Cases, Frames, Gold Lockets, Polishing materials, Chemicals, and every description of Goods used in the Daguerreotype business, constantly on hand and for sale, at wholesale and retail, at the lowest cash prices. 3tf * * * * * =S. J. THOMPSON,= WOULD most respectfully announce to the public, that he has one of the best sky-lights in the United States, and is prepared to execute Daguerreotypes. Likenesses of all sizes, put up in every style of the Art. No. 57 State-street, Albany, N. Y. 2ly * * * * * =$5 REWARD.= STOLEN from the door of Clark Brothers, 551 Broadway, one full size Daguerreotype View, in papier mache frame, oval fire gilt mat. Said View of a GOTHIC COTTAGE, on the steps of which can be seen a lady, two or three boys and a dog. Any person returning the above described Picture, or giving information where it may be found, shall receive the above reward Oct 16. * * * * * =WANTED IMMEDIATELY.= A GOOD DAGUERREOTYPE OPERATOR can have steady employment to engage in a pleasant western city in the state of Ohio. Also a first class operator can have good wages and engage for one year, to go to California. For further particulars enquire at this office. None need apply but such as are competent to take _full charge_ of the operating department of a large establishment; salaries will be in accordance. * * * * * =J. D. WELLS,= DAGUERREIAN ARTIST, No. 6 Kirkland's Block, Main Street Northampton, Mass. _Likenesses_ taken by a sky-light connected with a beautiful side-light. Pictures put up in all styles of the Art. Plates, Cases, Lockets, Frames, and all kinds of Daguerreotype Stock for sale. 2-3 * * * * * =Circular to Daguerreotypists.= GEORGE DABBS & JAMES CREMER, Travelling Agents for L. Chapman, 102 William street, New York, manufacturer of Daguerreotype cases, mats, preservers, and plates, and importer of the _genuine_ Star brand, No. 40, French plate, and last, though of first importance, proprietor of "Peck's patent plate holder,"--the great desideratum which only requires to be used to be appreciated. Prices, $1,00 for medium; $1,50 for quarters; $2,00 for halfs and $2,50 for whole size holders--a vice to hold the blocks $1,50 and an instrument for bending the plates 75 cents. They would inform Daguerreotypists and dealers that they will wait upon as many during the winter, as their time will permit, for the purpose of exhibiting the patent Plate Holder, for a description of which see advertisement headed "Two New Inventions". 1tf New York, November 1, 1850. * * * * * =INSLEY'S DAGUERREOTYPE GALLERY= REMOVED TO No. 311 BROADWAY, N. Y. (_Between Stewart's and the City Hospital._) THIS, our new Sky-light Gallery, is located on the second floor at the above number, and is universally acknowledged to be the most convenient and effective Gallery in the City. Every real improvement is taken advantage of, and, aided by scientific and gentlemanly assistants, we trust our pictures cannot be excelled. The Clergy--the Statesman--the Artist--the Man of science--and all lovers of really good Daguerreotypes, throughout the United States, are invited to call and examine our collection. P. S.--This Gallery was for several years located on the corner of Cedar street, but is now removed to No. 311 Broadway. * * * * * =J. E. MARTIN,= "EXCELSIOR ROOMS," Jefferson Avenue and Odd Fellows' Hall, Detroit. Daguerreotype Likenesses taken in every style of the Art. 2ly * * * * * =CAMERAS.= C. C. HARRISON, Manufacturer of Cameras, and Camera Lenses, of all sizes and of the latest improvements. Office 293 Broadway, New York, where in his Gallery may be seen specimens of Daguerreotypes taken with instruments of his own manufacture, which for accuracy of performance are unsurpassed by any in the world. N. B. A new and improved Camera for taking views, is manufactured by him, at a price unprecedentedly low. C. C. HARRISON, No. 293 Broadway, N. Y. 2tf * * * * * =PREMIUM DAGUERREOTYPE DEPOT AND MANUFACTORY.= W. & W. H. LEWIS, 142 Chatham Street, New Fork, keep constantly on hand, superior CAMERAS of all sizes; also, _quick working_ Cameras, fully equal to any imported. All kinds of Apparatus, including our Patent PLATE VICES and GILDING STANDS; Galvanic Batteries for Electrotyping, for durability superior to all others. Buffing Lathes, on the most approved plan, Plates, Cases, Chemicals, Polishing Materials of every description. All kinds of Walnut, Rosewood and Gilt Frames for Daguerreotypes, outside Show Frames, Diploma, Certificate and Picture Frames made to order. Pressing Machines, for Straw and Leghorn Hats, of improved construction. 1tf * * * * * =SCOVILL MANUFACTURING CO.= _No. 57 Maiden Lane, New York,_ Have constantly on hand an extensive assortment of all articles belonging to the Daguerreian Art; embracing plates of their own, and French manufacture, Mattings, Preservers, Frames, Cases, Lockets, Chemicals, Cameras and Apparatus of every variety. Agents for the sale of C. C. Harrison's celebrated Cameras. All orders will receive prompt and careful attention. * * * * * =CLARK BROTHERS, & B. L. HIGGINS.= Daguerreian Gallery, over the "Regulator," Franklin Buildings, Syracuse, N. Y., No. 128 Genesee St., Utica, Tremont Row Boston, and 551 Broadway, New York. Likenesses by the improved Daguerreotype of various sizes, and of the most delicate executions may be obtained at the above rooms during the day, from 8 A M., to 5 P. M. Chemicals, Plate, Cases, Cameras, Apparatus, and other materials, connected with the art, constantly on hand, and for sale at New York prices. All articles are selected with great care and warranted to give the best satisfaction. * * * * * THE SUBSCRIBER, would respectfully inform the Daguerrian Artists, that he has _constantly on hand_ a large assortment of Daguerreotype apparatus, plates, cases, and chemicals, comprising in part the following: Voightlander & Sons, Harrison's, Lewis' and Perry's Cameras and other apparatus of the most approved styles. Plates--Scovill's, Chapman's and the different brands of French plates. Cases--silk and velvet lined, Papier Mache and a great variety of fancy cases. Chemicals--American, German and French Bromine, chloride of iodine, do gold, calcium, mercury rouge, rotten stone, black polish, colours, brushes, rosewood and Papier mache, frames, mats, glass preservers, prepared buck skin, &c., &c Every article used in the business, which I will furnish to operators at retail or wholesale, as low as the same quality of articles can be bought in New York or elsewhere. Our motto is small profits and quick sales. N. E. SISSON. No. 496 Broadway, Albany N. Y. 1tf * * * * * TWO NEW INVENTIONS =IN THE DAGUERREOTYPE ART.= "PECK'S PATENT PLATE HOLDER," and the "_Bent Edge Daguerreotype Plate_," used in connection with it. An instrument is sold for seventy-five cents, with which every operator can bend his own plates. The holder is a desideratum, and only requires to be used to be appreciated. It is so constructed that it will hold the plate through all the stages of cleaning, buffing, polishing, coating, taking the picture in the camera, and mercurializing without any change. During the whole process, the plate need not be touched with the fingers, and does away with the use of wax, &c., &c. The prices for the holders are mediums, $1 00--quarters, $1 50--Halves, $2 00--whole size, $2 50. The "_Magic Back Ground_." The discovery of this is due Mr. C. J. Anthony, of Pittsburgh, Pa. By this process the most beautiful effects can be produced, and the pictures are set forth in bold relief on back grounds of various shapes and tints. Pictures taken with the "Magic Back Ground," will be emphatically the "_Pictures for the Million_." The Patent is applied for, and the right ratified upon the receipt of the Patent, for the sum of Twenty-Five Dollars. L. CHAPMAN, 102 William St., N. Y. Manufacturer of Cases, Mats, Preservers, Plates, Importer of the genuine Star Brand, No. 40 French Plates, and dealer in Daguerreotype stock generally. * * * * * =LEVI CHAPMAN,= No. 102 William street, New-York, Manufacturer of, and Dealer in Daguerreotype Stock. =Daguerreotype Cases.= Medium size, from $15 to $198 per gross, Quarter " " 24 to 288 " Half " " 60 to 432 " MATS, PRESERVERS and CHEMICALS of all kinds. French and American PLATES. L. C. imports the genuine No. 40 Star Brand French Plate, which he keeps constantly on hand, together with an assortment of other kinds. PAPIER MACHE CASES, inlaid with Mother of Pearl, exceeding in beauty any thing of the kind heretofore made, from 90 to $1152 per gross. L. C. is also proprietor of Peck's patent moveable Plate-holder. GEORGE DABBS, } Travelling Agents. JAMES CREMER, } * * * * * DAGUERREOTYPE FURNISHING ROOMS. =WM. A. WISONG.= _No. 2 N. Liberty Street, Baltimore, Md._ HAS CONSTANTLY ON HAND, a full and general assortment of Stock, for Daguerreotype use. Embracing every variety of Cameras, Plates, Cases, Fixtures, Trays, Chemicals, and Materials used by Daguerreian Artists, all of which are offered at the lowest market rates. Orders from Artists are respectfully solicited, and forwarded with dispatch. 2ly =DAGUERREOTYPE PLATES.= 2000 LOUIS L. BISHOP'S superior PLATES, offered for sale at a great bargain, by VICTOR BISHOP, 23 Maiden Lane. N. B. These Plates are silvered by the electro-magnetic process, and warranted superior to the best French plates. 1tf * * * * * =ENGRAVING= THE SUBSCRIBER still continues to carry on the business of ENGRAVING ON WOOD, in all its branches. His facilities are such that he is enabled to execute all orders promptly, and in every style of the Art, upon the most reasonable terms; while the experience of many years enables him to feel confidence in his efforts to give satisfaction to all who may favor him with their patronage. _Particular attention_ paid to the Drawing and Engraving of Subjects from Daguerreotypes. N. ORR, No. 151 Fulton-st. N. Y. 2tf * * * * * =BOOK AND JOB PRINTING.= WILLIAM S. DORR, 101 Nassau Street, over Ackerman & Miller's Sign and Banner Painting Establishment, is prepared to print, in the best style, and at the usual _Low Prices_, Books, Periodicals, Newspapers, Pamphlets, Bill Heads, Circulars, Commercial and Law Blanks, Bills of Lading, Bank Checks, Notices, Labels, &c. Cards printed on the celebrated Yankee Press. Few offices in the city have greater facilities for doing work with _neatness_ and _despatch_, as most of the materials are new, and long editions are done by steam power presses. * * * * * =J. H. WHITEHURST'S= ELECTRO DAGUERREOTYPES. _Galleries, 207 Baltimore Street, Baltimore,_ Broadway, New York, 77 Main street, Richmond, Va., Main street, Norfolk, Va., Sycamore street, Petersburg, Va., Main street, Lynchburg, Va., Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington city. Likenesses taken equally well in all weather. 2tf * * * * * =DAGUERREIAN ARTISTS' REGISTER.= Appleby, R. B., 14 Arcade, Rochester, N. Y Anthony, J. B., Poplar Grove, S. C. Adams, George, Worcester, Mass. Brady, Matthew B., No. 205 Broadway, N. Y. Burges, Nathan G., No. 187 Broadway, New York. Baker, F. S., Baltimore, Md. Broadbent, Samuel, Wilmington, Md. Barnes, C., Mobile, Ala. Bartlet, No. 102½ Main street, Boston, Mass. Bogardus, A., No. 217 Greenwich street, N. Y. Brown, F. A., Museum Building, Mashetnec, N. H. Brown, H. S., Milwaukie, Wis. Buxton, John, St. Catharine street, Montreal, Canada. Bradlee, J. E., Boston, Mass. Buell, E. M., Pittsfield, Mass. Bowman, J. A., Berlin, Waterloo County, Canada West. Bisbee, A., Dayton, Ohio. Bowen, N. O., Norwich, Conn. Beckers & Piard, 201 Broadway. N. Y. Brown, James, 181 Broadway, N. Y. Campbell, B. F., Corner Hanover and Union streets, Boston, Mass. Collins, David, Chesnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. Cooley, O. H., Springfield, Mass. Clark Brothers, No. 551 Broadway, N. Y., 128 Genesee Street, Utica, Franklin Building, Syracuse, New York, and Tremont Row, Boston, Mass. Cook, George S., Charleston, S. C. Coombs, F., San Francisco, Cal. Cary, P. M., Savannah, Ga. Chuchill, R. E., 55, State Street, Albany, N. Y. Chase, L. G., Boston, Mass Dodge, E. S., Augusta, Ga. Davie, D. D. T., Utica, N. Y. Dobyns, T. J., New Orleans, La., Nashville, Tenn., and Louisville, Ky. Done, T. C., No. 2, Place d'Armes, Montreal, Canada. Ducan, W. H., No. 303 Broadway, N. Y. Die Riemer, C. R., Auburn, N. Y. Evans, O. B., Main Street, Buffalo, New York. Evens, Chas., No. 380 Market street, Philadelphia, Pa. Ennis, T. J., 106 Chestnut street, Philadelphia, Pa. Finley, M., Canandaigua, Ontario Co., N. Y. Fitzgibbon, J. H., St. Louis, Mo. Faris, Thomas, Corner Fourth and Walnut Street, Cincinnati, Ohio. Gurney, Jeremiah, No. 189 Broadway, N. Y. Gavit, Daniel E., 480 Broadway, Albany, N. Y Gay, C. H., New London, Ct. Geer & Benedict, Syracuse, N, Y Hill, R. H., Kingston, Ulster Co., N. Y. Haas, Philip, No. 280 Broadway, N. Y. Hall, W. H., Rouse's Point, Clinton Co., N. Y. Harrison, C. C., 293 Broadway, N. Y. Hill, L. L., Westkill, Green Co., N. Y. Hale, J. W., Newark, N. J. Hough & Anthony, Pittsburg, Alleghany Co., Pa. Hale, L. H., 109 Washington street, Boston, Mass. Hawkins, E. C., Corner of Fifth and Walnut Street, Cincinnati, Ohio. Insley, Henry E., 311 Broadway, N. Y. Johnson, Charles E., Cleavland, Ohio. Jacobs, E., 73 Camp St, New Orleans, La. Joes, L. M., No. 142 Washington street, Boston, Mass. Johnston, D. B., Utica, N. Y. Johnson, George H., Sacramento, Cal. Kelsey, C. C., Chicago, Ill. Lawrence, Martin M., No. 203 Broadway, N. Y. Lewis, W. and W. H., No. 142 Chatham Street, New York. Litch & Graniss, Waterbury, Ct. Long, H. H., St. Louis, Mo. Long, E., St. Louis, Mo. L'homdieu, Charles, Charleston, S. C. Martin, J. E., Detroit, Mich. Moissenet, F., New Orleans, La. Moulthroup, M., New Haven, Ct. Manchester & Brother, Providence, and Newport, R. I. McDonald, D., Main Street, Buffalo, New York. Miles, Chas. T., Fayette, Jefferson Co., Miss. McClees & Germon, Philadelphia, Pa. Morand, A., 132 Chatham Street, N. Y. Naramore, William, Bridgeport, Conn. Nichols, John P., No. 75 Court street, Boston, Mass. Ormsbee & Silsbee, No. 203 Washington street, Mass. Owen, N., Goshen, N. Y. Prosch, G. W., Newark, N. J. Peck, Samuel, New Haven, Ct. Powelson & Co., 177 Broadway, N. Y. Prod'homme, J. F., 663 Broadway, N. Y. Reynolds, G. L., Lexington, Va. Rice, S. N., 194 Canal Street, N. Y. Root, M. A. & S., No. 363 Broadway, New York, and 140 Chesnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. Ritten, E. D., Dunburry, Conn. Swift, H. B., 312 Market St, Philadelphia, Pa. Sawyer, Jo., Boston, Mass. Stansbury, B., Brooklyn, L. I. Stamm & Upman, Milwaukee, Wis. Sissons, N. E., No. 496 Broadway, Albany, N. Y. Shorb, J. R., Winnsboro, S. C. Shew, Myron, Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. Thompson, S. J., No. 57 State Street, Albany New York. Tomlinson, William A., Troy, New York. Van Alsten, A., Worcester, Mass. Vail, J. H., New Brunswick, N. J. Van Loan & Co., 118 Chestnut street, Philadelphia, Pa. Westcott, C. P., Watertown, Jefferson Co., N. Y. Wood, R. L., Macon, Ga. Whipple, John A., Washington Street, Boston, Mass. Whitehurst, J. H., New York, Richmond, Norfolk, Petersburg, and Lynchburg, Va., Baltimore, Md., and Washington City, D. C. Wells, J. D., No. 6, Kirkland Block, Main street Northampton, Mass. Walker, S. L., Broadway, Albany and Poughkeepsie, N. Y. Walker & Horton, Newburgh, N. Y. Wentworth. Henry, Fort Plain, Montgomery Co., N. Y. Williams, J. A., Washington Square, Newport, R. I. Williams, J. B., Philadelphia, Pa. * * * * * =PREMIUM.= TO any practical Daguerreian Artist who will furnish us with the largest list of subscribers for the Daguerreian Journal, within the next six months, we will award him one of the best full size American Cameras. New-York, Nov. 1st, 1850. * * * * * =THE DAGUERREIAN JOURNAL,= =Devoted to the Daguerreian and Photogenic Arts,= _also, embracing the Sciences, Arts and Literature_. The Daguerreian Journal is published semi-monthly, at 311 Broadway, on the 1st and 15th of every month. =Business Department.= Terms--_Three Dollars_ a year; in advance. =Inducements for Clubbing.= Two copies of this Journal will be furnished for one year for $5; four do. for $9; and ten do. for $20 =Advertising.= One square of 6 lines or less, one insertion, $0 50 Do. do. 10 " " " 75 Do. do. 14 " " " 1 00 Register of Daguerreian Artists, not exceeding two lines, $1 per year. Yearly advertisements as may be agreed upon. It is particularly requested that all addressing letters to us, would put on the State, as well as the Town in which they live. Subscribers are authorised and requested to send bank notes or change by mail, at our risk, provided it is done in the presence of the Post Master, and the letters are franked. All communications and remittances intended for this Journal, in order to secure attention, should be _post paid_. Daguerreian Artists that are travelling in the country, can have this Journal sent to anyplace where they may be, provided they give us notice, and the Post Office changed from. [Hand] All Letters should be addressed (post-paid) to S. D. HUMPHREY, 311 Broadway, New York. * * * * * =GURNEY'S= =DAGUERREIAN GALLERY.= _189 Broadway, N. Y.,_ Has been known for years as one of the First Establishments of the kind in the country, and the oldest in this city. Mr. G. attends personally to the Operating Department, and having a superior arrangement of Light, as well also as every other ability; and from his long experience in the Art, he is at all times enabled to give perfect satisfaction to all who wish a good likeness. His collection of large size pictures of distinguished persons, are universally pronounced superior to any heretofore taken in this country. Ladies and Gentlemen are respectfully invited to examine them: 189 Broadway, directly opposite John Street. _Copies of a Superior Daguerreotype of_ Jenny Lind _for sale_. * * * * * =JAMES BROWN'S= DAGUERREOTYPE MINIATURE GALLERY. _181 Broadway: Rear Stairs._ THE undersigned, for four years the principal Operator of M. B. Brady, has the honor to announce to his friends, and the fashionable circle, that his Rooms are now open at the above No., for the transaction of business, where he will be pleased to see his friends and the public generally; and hopes to receive a portion of that patronage so liberally extended to him while principal at Brady's. He will also take the liberty of mentioning, to those unacquainted with the fact, that the pictures which have received the different premiums for Mr. Brady, were taken, colored, and arranged, with the assistance of Mr. Hays, who is still with him, entirely by himself. Particular attention is called to the very superior coloring tone and finish of the impressions from this establishment, which, through an incessant study of seven years, the subscriber feels conscious in asserting can always be relied on, as he attends personally to his sitters. Pictures taken in any weather, in any desired style, and his charges being extremely moderate, he hopes to suit all classes. JAMES BROWN, _Member of the Society for the Promotion of Painting in Water Colors, and for ten years a Student in the National Academy of Design._ * * * * * =DOBYNS & Co.= DEALERS in all kinds of Daguerreotype Stock, Plates, Chemicals, and Apparatus. No. 6 & 28 Camp Street, New Orleans, La.; No. 60 Front Row, Memphis, Tenn.; No. 489 Main Street, Louisville, Ky. * * * * * =INSLEY'S DAGUERREOTYPES.= HAYING had the honor, in the early part of 1840, to establish ONE of the THREE Galleries first opened to the public, in this city or the world, viz: by Mr. Wolcott, Professors Morse & Draper, and Insley and Prosch, the undersigned flatters himself that his prolonged experience will enable him to give entire satisfaction to those who desire Likenesses by this charming process. INSLEY, 311 Broadway, N. Y. * * * * * =M. A. & S. ROOTS= =DAGUERREIAN ROOMS.= CORNER of Broadway and Franklin Street, New York. M. A. & S. Root, celebrated for years as Daguerreian Artists in Philadelphia, have opened a magnificently furnished SUITE OF ROOMS, in the most fashionable part of the city, (No. 363 Broadway, corner of Franklin Street,) where, having an admirably arranged light, they flatter themselves that they will be able to furnish Daguerreotype Likenesses, equal in finish, accuracy and effect, to anything of the kind in the world. They have received Six Medals from the various Fairs and Institutes of our country; also the two highest Medals at the Fair of 1850 in New York and Philadelphia, for the best specimens of Daguerreotypes ever exhibited. The public are respectfully invited to visit their Rooms and examine their Gallery of Likenesses of the most distinguished people. Gallery Free. * * * * * =MYRON SHEW,= DEALER in Daguerreotype Apparatus and Materials, Wholesale and Retail, 116 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia. * * * * * =A. MORAND= DAGUERREIAN ARTIST, 132 Chatham Street, N. Y. * * * * * =J. W. THOMPSON'S= DAGUERREIAN GALLERY and Depot of Daguerreian Materials of all kinds, Instruments, Apparatus, and everything belonging to the Art, for sale at low prices. Every Operator knows the advantage of buying his Stock (especially plates and chemicals) of a person who not only sells Stock, but is also a practical Daguerreotypist. 315 Broadway, N. Y. * * * * * =POSTAGE ON THE DAGUERREIAN JOURNAL= THERE has been a few instances where Postmasters have charged pamphlet postage on this Journal. We say the Daguerreian Journal is "subject to newspaper postage only," because that is all that can legally be charged on it. A newspaper must be published as often as "once a month," and contain intelligence of passing events. This publication is semi-monthly, and contains, a general summary of "passing events." The law says it may contain two sheets, if the two together do not exceed 1,900 square inches. This Journal contains less than 1,100 square inches. These sheets may be folded in any shape, or printed on paper of any color. The following is an extract from the Act of Congress for regulating postage. "A newspaper is defined to be any printed publication issued in numbers, and published at stated intervals of not more than a month, conveying intelligence of passing events. It generally consists of a sheet, but may be composed of two sheets of paper. In such case, it is chargeable with newspaper postage only; provided that the sheets in the aggregate do not exceed 1,900 square inches. "A pamphlet is a small, unbound, printed book." * * * * * ANTHONY'S =NATIONAL DAGUERREIAN DEPOT,= 203 & 205 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. DAGUERREOTYPE GOODS ONLY. The attention of Dealers and Daguerreotypists is respectfully requested to my assortments of Apparatus and Materials, which will be found to be very extensive and complete. DAGUERREOTYPE PLATES. The celebrated Crescent Brand Plate, exclusively of my own importation, stamped with my name, and warranted. The Sun 40th Plate, (guaranteed to be 40th.) Star 40th Plate, French Plates, 20th and 30th. (quality guaranteed.) Scovill Plates, of all sizes and qualities. French Galvanized Plates. _All the plates of my importation are carefully examined in Paris by an_ experienced _agent, practically acquainted with the manufacture of plates, and all that are_ visibly, _imperfect, are rejected and returned to the manufacturer. The great number I import, enables me to sell a_ genuine article _at a low rate._ CASES. [Exclusively of my own manufacture.] 1-15 size, 1-9 size, 1-6 size, 1-4 size, 1-2 size, 2-3 size, 4-4 size, of every style and quality. Papier Mache or Pearl Inlaid Cases of every size and style. _My Papier Mache work will be found to be superior to any in the market._ Turkey Morocco Bookcases. Snap' Cases of various styles. _Cases manufactured to suit the taste of any customer_, or adapted to any particular Gallery, the name being beautifully embossed on the cushion without extra charge, except for the die. CASEMAKERS' MATERIALS. Heavy leather for embossing. Thin leather for binding. Crimson silk for cushions. Silk velvet, ruby and maroon, of different qualities. Cotton velvet, crimson. Patent velvet, silk finished, crimson. Satin, maroon. Varnish, of superior quality. Hooks. Clasps, for bookcases, &c., &c. Embossing done at moderate rates. PLATE GLASS. Of the very best quality, cut to order, of any size, for cases or show frames, and furnished by the quantity to dealers, in original packages as imported. Also, Half white German Glass, in original packages or cut. Green English Glass, by the gross. METALLIC MATTINGS. Burnished and fire gilt, of all sizes and styles, for cases or frames, all of my own manufacture, and superior in color and beauty of finish to any in the market. ROSEWOOD AND BLACK WALNUT FRAMES. Of all sizes, made in a durable manner, and fitted in a style to do justice to a good specimen of Daguerreian art. Fancy Frames, of various styles, of French manufacture. PRESERVERS. 1-9 size, 1-6 size, 1-4 size, 1-2 size, of a new and beautiful style of chasing. APPARATUS. Cameras of Voightlander, Harrison, Roach, and Lewis' make; also Coating Boxes, Mercury Baths, Plate Vices, &c., &c., comprising every thing required for the successful prosecution of the art. HARRISON'S PATENT BUFFING WHEEL. LEWIS' BUFFING WHEELS. NEW STYLE PLATE BENDER. Neat simple, and effectual, Price, $1,50. CHEMICALS. Iodine, best English resublimed. Chloride of Iodine. Bromine, pure German; do. American. Chloride of Gold, of the best makers. Salt of Gold, or Hyposulphite of Gold. Distilled Mercury. Rotton Stone, of all the various makers. Rouge, best French; do. American. Photogine. Hyposulphite of Soda, best French; do. do. American. Cyanide of Potassium. Dry Quick-stuff, Anthony's Anhydrous. Roach's Triple Compound of Bromine. Chloride of Bromine. Fluoride of Bromine. Oxide of Silver. Gallic Acid. Crystailizable Acetic Acid. Bromide of Potassium, Nitrate of Silver. Muriate of Potash. Chloride of Calcium. Succinic Acid. Hydrofluoric Acid. Drying Powder. Pure liquid Ammonia. Iodide of Lime, a new and valuable preparation for iodizing the plate. Those desiring to commence the practice of Daguerreotyping, fitted out with everything necessary for their success at moderate cost. LOCKETS, Gold or Gilt, of all sizes and styles, oval, round, single or double, open or hunting. Goods can be forwarded to any town in the United States or Canada (provided said town have connection by Express with New York) and the money collected on delivery of the goods. Persons will do well, when in places that have no such connection, to have what they order forwarded to the nearest express town. Terms--Cash. No allowance for breakage after goods have left the City. I have been compelled to adopt the rule of not sending lists of prices, because it only injures such country dealers as buy of me. But all who send _orders for goods_ may depend upon getting them at my regular New York prices. E. ANTHONY, _Importer and Manufacturer of Daguerreian Materials._ 308 Broadway, New York. N.B.--Good journeymen Case-Makers wanted, to whom steady employment will be given. WILLIAM S. DORR, PRINTER, No. 101 Nassau St., N. Y. * * * * * Transcriber Note Minor typos may have been corrected. Images moved to prevent splitting paragraphs. Various formats were used to display pricing these were not standardized. The listing of Registered Users was left in the order published. Illustrations of a right pointing hand for advertisements is denoted as [Hand]. 
35960	----	Transcriber's note: The following typographical errors have been corrected: Page 75: "It was to this charming valley that Walter Scott came, with his young wife, in the first year of their wedded life." 'to' amended from 'to to'. Page 108: "We believe that many changes in the conditions of life and labour are needed, and are coming to pass ..." 'needed' amended from 'neeeded'. Page 114: "At sight of this group of buildings one almost expects to catch a glimpse of the well-meaning but not over-wise Mrs. Thornburgh ..." 'buildings' amended from 'buidings'. Page 249: "... everything that makes us see across our poor lives a splendid goal and a boundless future, comes to us from people of simplicity, those who have made another object of their desires than the passing satisfaction and vanity ..." 'splendid' amended from 'spendid'. By Charles S. Olcott THE LURE OF THE CAMERA. Illustrated. THE COUNTRY OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. Illustrated. HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY BOSTON AND NEW YORK THE LURE OF THE CAMERA [Illustration: THE STEPPING STONES] THE LURE OF THE CAMERA BY CHARLES S. OLCOTT _Author of "George Eliot: Scenes and People of her Novels" and "The Country of Sir Walter Scott"_ ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR [Illustration] BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY The Riverside Press Cambridge 1914 COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY CHARLES S. OLCOTT ALL RIGHTS RESERVED _Published September 1914_ TO MY BOYS GAGE, CHARLES, AND HOWARD THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED PREFACE The difference between a ramble and a journey is about the same as that between pleasure and business. When you go anywhere for a serious purpose, you make a journey; but if you go for pleasure (and don't take the pleasure too seriously, as many do) you only ramble. The sketches in this volume, which takes its name from the first chapter, are based upon "rambles," which were for the most part merely incidental excursions, made possible by various "journeys" undertaken for more serious purposes. It has been the practice of the author for many years to carry a camera on his travels, so that, if chance should take him within easy distance of some place of literary, historic, or scenic interest, he might not miss the opportunity to pursue his favorite avocation. If the reader is asked to make long flights, as from Scotland to Italy, then back, across the Atlantic, to New England, and thence overland to Wyoming and Arizona, he must remember that ramblers take no account of distance or direction. In this case they must take no account of time, for these rambles are but the chance happenings that have occurred at intervals in a period of more than a dozen years. People who are in a hurry, and those who in traveling seek to "do" the largest number of places in the shortest number of days, are advised not to travel with an amateur photographer. Not only must he have leisure to find and study his subjects, but he is likely to wander away from the well-worn paths and use up his time in making inquiries, in a fashion quite exasperating to the tourist absorbed in his itinerary. The rambles here chronicled could not possibly be organized into an itinerary or moulded into a guidebook. The author simply invites those who have inclinations similar to his own, to wander with him, away from the customary paths of travel, and into the homes of certain distinguished authors or the scenes of their writings, and to visit with him various places of historic interest or natural beauty, without a thought of maps, distances, time-tables, or the toil and dust of travel. This is the real essence of rambling. The chapter on "The Country of Mrs. Humphry Ward" was published originally in _The Outlook_ in 1909, and "A Day in Wordsworth's Country," in the same magazine in 1910. CONTENTS I. THE LURE OF THE CAMERA 1 II. LITERARY RAMBLES IN GREAT BRITAIN 15 English Courtesy--The George Eliot Country--Experiences in Rural England. Overcoming Obstacles--A London "Bobby"--Carlyle's Birthplace--The Country of Scott and Burns III. A DAY IN WORDSWORTH'S COUNTRY 49 IV. FROM HAWTHORNDEN TO ROSLIN GLEN 73 V. THE COUNTRY OF MRS. HUMPHRY WARD 93 I. MRS. WARD AND HER WORK 95 II. THE REAL ROBERT ELSMERE 110 III. OTHER PEOPLE AND SCENERY 128 VI. A TOUR OF THE ITALIAN LAKES 147 VII. LITERARY LANDMARKS OF NEW ENGLAND 175 I. CONCORD 179 II. SALEM 196 III. PORTSMOUTH 207 IV. THE ISLES OF SHOALS 222 VIII. A DAY WITH JOHN BURROUGHS 233 IX. GLIMPSES OF THE YELLOWSTONE 251 X. THE GRAND CAÑON OF ARIZONA 271 INDEX 297 ILLUSTRATIONS THE STEPPING STONES _Frontispiece_ On the River Rothay, near Ambleside, England, and below Fox How, the home of Thomas Arnold of Rugby, grandfather of Mrs. Humphry Ward. One of the scenes in "Robert Elsmere" was suggested by these stones. A PATH IN BRETTON WOODS 10 White Mountains, N.H. PROFILE LAKE 12 Showing the Old Man of the Mountains. In the Franconia Notch, White Mountains, N.H. The profile suggested to Hawthorne the tale of "The Great Stone Face." THE GRAND SALOON, ARBURY HALL 22 Near Nuneaton, England. The original of Cheverel Manor, in George Eliot's "Mr. Gilfil's Love Story." A SCHOOL IN NUNEATON 30 Where George Eliot attended school in her eighth or ninth year. THE BROMLEY-DAVENPORT ARMS 34 In Ellastone, England, the original of the "Donnithorne Arms" of "Adam Bede." THE BIRTHPLACE OF ROBERT BURNS 40 In Ayrshire, Scotland. The poet was born here January 25, 1759. The left of the building is the cottage of two rooms where the family lived. Adjoining, on the right, is the "byre," or cow-house. THE BURNS MONUMENT, AYRSHIRE 44 The monument was built in 1820. It is sixty feet high, and almost an exact duplicate of the monument in Edinburgh. THE BRIG O' DOON, AYRSHIRE 48 The bridge over which Tam o' Shanter rode to escape the witches. GRASMERE LAKE 60 "For rest of body perfect was the spot." DOVE COTTAGE, GRASMERE 64 Wordsworth's home for eight years. The view is from the garden in the rear of the cottage. WORDSWORTH'S WELL 68 In the garden of Dove Cottage, where the poet placed "bright gowan and marsh marigold" brought from the border of the lake. HAWTHORNDEN 76 The home of the Drummond family, on the banks of the Esk, Scotland. THE SYCAMORE 80 The tree at Hawthornden under which William Drummond met Ben Jonson. RUINS OF ROSLIN CASTLE 86 In Roslin Glen overlooking the Esk. MRS. HUMPHRY WARD AND MISS DOROTHY WARD 96 At the villa in Cadenabbia, overlooking Lake Como, where Mrs. Ward wrote "Lady Rose's Daughter." "UNDER LOUGHRIGG" 100 The view from the study window of Thomas Arnold at Fox How. THE PASSMORE EDWARDS SETTLEMENT HOUSE 104 Tavistock Place, London. THE LIME WALK 110 In the garden of Trinity College, Oxford. Referred to in "Robert Elsmere." COTTAGE OF "MARY BACKHOUSE" 114 At Sad Gill, Long Sleddale. The barns and storehouses, on either end, give the small cottage an attenuated appearance. THE RECTORY OF PEPER HAROW 118 In Surrey, England. The original of Murewell Rectory, the house of "Robert Elsmere." THE ROTHAY AND NAB SCAR 130 From Pelter Bridge, Ambleside, England. LAKE COMO 138 From "the path that led to the woods overhanging the Villa Carlotta." STOCKS 144 The home of Mrs. Humphry Ward, near Tring, England. LAKE MAGGIORE, ITALY 150 According to Ruskin the most beautiful of the Italian Lakes. ISOLA BELLA, LAKE MAGGIORE 154 The costly summer home of Count Vitaliano Borromeo in the Seventeenth Century. THE ATRIUM OF THE VILLA MARIA 170 At Cadenabbia, Lake Como. "I CALL THIS MY J. M. W. TURNER" 174 View from the dining-room window of the Villa Maria. THE OLD MANSE 180 In Concord, where Emerson wrote "Nature" and Hawthorne lived for three years. WALDEN WOODS 184 The cairn marks the site of Thoreau's hut and "Thoreau's Cove" is seen in the distance. HOUSE OF RALPH WALDO EMERSON 190 Concord, Massachusetts. THE WAYSIDE 194 House in Concord, where Hawthorne lived in the latest years of his life. THE MALL STREET HOUSE 200 Salem, Mass. The room in which Hawthorne wrote "The Scarlet Letter" is in the third floor, front, on the left. THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN GABLES 204 The house in Turner Street, Salem, Mass., built in 1669, and owned by the Ingersoll family. THE BAILEY HOUSE 208 The house in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, of Thomas Bailey Aldrich's grandfather, known as "Captain Nutter" in "The Story of a Bad Boy." "AUNT ABIGAIL'S" ROOM 212 In the "Nutter" House. AN OLD WHARF 216 On the Piscataqua River, Portsmouth, where Aldrich often played in his boyhood. CELIA THAXTER'S COTTAGE 224 On Appledore, where the poet maintained her famous "Island Garden." APPLEDORE 232 Trap-dike, on Appledore, the largest of the "Isles of Shoals." JOHN BURROUGHS AT WOODCHUCK LODGE 238 The summer home of Mr. Burroughs is near Roxbury, New York, in the Catskill Mountains. When not at work he enjoys "the peace of the hills." JOHN BURROUGHS AT WORK 244 The "study" is a barn, where the naturalist sits facing the open doors. He looks out upon a stone wall where the birds and small animals come to "talk with him." The "desk" is an old hen-coop, with straw in the bottom, to keep his feet warm. HYMEN TERRACE 254 At Mammoth Hot Springs in the Yellowstone National Park. PULPIT TERRACE 258 A part of Jupiter Terrace, the largest of the formations at Mammoth Hot Springs. OLD FAITHFUL 264 The famous geyser in the Upper Geyser Basin of the Yellowstone National Park. It plays a stream about one hundred and fifty feet high every sixty-five minutes, with but slight variations. THE GROTTO GEYSER 266 A geyser in the Yellowstone National Park notable for its fantastic crater. THE CAÑON OF THE YELLOWSTONE RIVER 268 The view from Inspiration Point. THE TRAIL, GRAND CAÑON 278 The view shows the upper part of Bright Angels' Trail, as it appears when the ground is covered with snow. THE GRAND CAÑON OF ARIZONA 290 The view from Bright Angels'. The plateau over which the trail leads to the edge of the river is partly covered by a deep shadow. The great formation in the left foreground is known as the "Battleship." I THE LURE OF THE CAMERA THE LURE OF THE CAMERA I Two pictures, each about the size of a large postage-stamp, are among my treasured possessions. In the first, a curly-headed boy of two, in a white dress, is vigorously kicking a football. The second depicts a human wheelbarrow, the body composed of a sturdy lad of seven, whose two plump arms serve admirably the purpose of a wheel, his stout legs making an excellent pair of handles, while the motive power is supplied by an equally robust lad of eight, who grasps his younger brother firmly by the ankles. These two photographs, taken with a camera so small that in operation it was completely concealed between the palms of my hands, revealed to me for the first time the fascination of amateur photography. The discovery meant that whatever interested me, even if no more than the antics of my children, might be instantly recorded. I had no idea of artistic composition, nor of the proper manipulation of plates, films, and printing papers. Still less did I foresee that the tiny little black box contained the germ of an indefinable impulse, which, expanding and growing more powerful year by year, was to lead me into fields which I had never dreamed of exploring, into habits of observation never before a part of my nature, and into a knowledge of countless places of historic and literary interest as well as natural beauty and grandeur, which would never have been mine but for the lure of the camera. The spell began to make itself felt almost immediately. I determined to buy a camera of my own,--for the two infinitesimal pictures were taken with a borrowed instrument,--and was soon the possessor of a much larger black box capable of making pictures three and a quarter inches square. The film which came with it was quickly "shot off," and then came the impulse to go somewhere. My wife and I decided to spend a day at a pretty little inland lake, a few hours' ride from our home. I hastened to the druggist's to buy another film, and without waiting to insert it in the camera, off we started. Arrived on the scene, our first duty was to "load" the new machine. The roll puzzled us a little. Somehow the directions did not seem to fit. But we got it in place finally and began to enjoy the pleasures of photography. Our first view was a general survey of the lake, which is nearly twelve miles long, with many bays and indentations in the shore-line, making a rather large subject for a picture only three and a quarter inches square. But such difficulties did not seem formidable. The directions clearly intimated that if we would only "press the button" somebody would "do the rest," and we expected the intangible somebody to perform his part of the contract as faithfully as we were doing ours. Years afterward, chancing to pass by the British Museum, which stretches its huge bulk through Great Russell Street a distance of nearly four hundred feet, we saw a little girl taking its picture with a "Brownie" camera. "That reminds me of 'Dignity and Impudence,'" said my wife, referring to Landseer's well-known painting which we had seen at the National Gallery that afternoon. This is the mistake which all amateurs make at first--that of expecting the little instrument to perform impossible feats. But to resume my story. We spent a remarkably pleasant day composing beautiful views. We shot at the bays and the rocks, at the steamers and the sail-boats and at everything else in sight except the huge ice-houses which disfigure what would otherwise be one of the prettiest lakes in America. We posed for each other in picturesque attitudes on the rocks and in a little rowboat which we had hired. We had a delightful outing and only regretted when, all too soon, the last film was exposed. But we felt unusually happy to think that we had a wonderful record of the day's proceedings to show to our family and friends. That night I developed the roll, laboriously cutting off one exposure at a time, and putting it through the developer according to directions. Number one was blank! Something wrong with the shutter, I thought, and tried the next. Number two was also blank!! What can this mean? Perhaps I haven't developed it long enough. So into the fluid went another one, and this one stayed a long time. To my dismay number three was as vacant as the others, and so were all the rest of the twelve. Early the next morning I was at the drug store demanding an explanation. The druggist confessed that the film-roll he had sold me was intended for another camera, but "It ought to have worked on yours," he said. Subsequent investigation proved that on my camera the film was to be inserted on the left, while on the other kind it went in on the right. This difference seemed insignificant until I discovered that in turning the roll to insert it on the opposite side from what was intended, I had brought the strip of black paper to the front of the film, thus preventing any exposure at all! Thus I learned the first principle of amateur photography:--_Know exactly what you are doing_ and take no chances with your apparatus. A young lady, to whom I once attempted to explain the use of the various "stops" on her camera, impatiently interrupted me with the remark, "Well, that's the way it was set when I got it and I'm not going to bother to change it. If the pictures are no good, I'll send it back." It is such people who continually complain of "bad luck" with their films. It was two or three years after the complete failure of my first expedition before the camera again exerted its spell, except that meanwhile it was faithfully recording various performances of the family, especially in the vacation season. It was in the autumn of 1898. The victorious American fleet had returned from Santiago and all the famous battleships and cruisers were triumphantly floating their ensigns in the breezes of New York Harbor. "Here is a rare opportunity. Come!" said the camera. Taking passage on a steamer, I found a quiet spot by the lifeboats, outside the rail, where the view would be unobstructed. We passed in succession all the vessels, from the doughty Texas, commanded by the lamented Captain Philip, to the proud Oregon, with the laurels of her long cruise around Cape Horn to join in the fight. One by one I photographed them all. Here, at last, I thought, are some pictures worth while. I had been in the habit of doing my own developing--with indifferent success, it must be confessed. These exposures, made under ideal conditions, were too precious to be risked, so I took the roll to a prominent firm of dealers in photographic goods, for developing and printing. Every one was spoiled! Not a good print could be found in the lot. Impure chemicals and careless handling had left yellow spots and finger-marks on every negative! Subsequent investigation revealed the fact that a negro janitor had been entrusted with the work. Here, then, was maxim number two for the amateur--_Do your own developing_, and be sure to master the details of the operation. The old adage, "If you want a thing well done, do it yourself," applies with peculiar force to photography. Another experience, which happened soon after, came near ending forever all further attempts in photography. This time I lost, not only the negatives, but the camera itself. Having accomplished very little, I resolved to try no more. But a year or two later a friend offered to sell me his 4 × 5 plate camera, with tripod, focusing-cloth and all, at a ridiculously low price, and enough of the old fever remained to make me an easy--victim, shall I say? No! How can I ever thank him enough? I put my head under the focusing-cloth and for the first time looked at the inverted image of a beautiful landscape, reflected in all its colors upon the ground glass. At that moment began my real experience in photography. The hand camera is only a toy. A child can use it as well as an expert. It has its limitations like the stone walls of a prison yard, and beyond them one cannot go. All is guesswork. Luck is the biggest factor of success. Artistic work is practically impossible. It is not until you begin to compose your pictures on the ground glass that art in photography becomes a real thing. Then it is amazing to see how many variations of the same scene may be obtained, how many different effects of light and shade, and how much depends upon the point of view. Then, too, one becomes more independent of the weather, for by a proper use of the "stop" and careful application of the principles of correct exposure, it is possible to overcome many adverse conditions. An acquaintance once expressed surprise that I was willing to spend day after day of my vacation walking about with a heavy camera case, full of plate-holders in one hand, and a bulky tripod slung over my shoulder. I replied that it was no heavier than a bagful of golf-sticks, that the walk took me through an endless variety of beautiful scenery, and that the game itself was fascinating. Of course, my friend could not appreciate my point of view, for he had never paused on the shore of some sparkling lake to study the ripple of the waters, the varying shades of green in the trees of the nearest bank, the pebbly beach with smooth flat stones whitening in the sun, but looking cooler and darker where seen through the transparent cover of the shallow water, the deep purple of the undulating hills in the distance, and above it all the canopy of filmy, foamy cumulus clouds, with flat bases and rounded outlines, and here and there a glimpse of the loveliest cerulean blue. He had never looked upon such scenes as these with the exhilarating thought that something of the marvelous beauty which nature daily spreads before us can be captured and taken home as a permanent reminder of what we have seen. To catch the charm of such a scene is no child's play. It requires the use of the best of lenses and other appliances, skill derivable only from long study and experience, and a natural appreciation of the artistic point of view. It requires even more, for the plate must be developed and the prints made, both operations calling for skill and a sense of the artistic. The underlying pleasure in nearly all sports and in many forms of recreation is the overcoming of obstacles. The football team must defeat a heavy opposing force to gain any sense of satisfaction. If the opponents are "easy," there is no fun in the game. The hunter who incurs no hardship complains that the sport is tame. A fisherman would rather land one big black bass after a long struggle than catch a hundred perch which almost jump into your boat without an invitation. [Illustration: A PATH IN BRETTON WOODS] Photography as a sport possesses this element in perfection. Those who love danger may find plenty of it in taking snap-shots of charging rhinoceroses, or flash-light pictures of lions and tigers in the jungle. Those who like hunting may find more genuine enjoyment in stalking deer for the purpose of taking the animal's picture than they would get if they took his life. Those who care only to hunt landscapes--and in this class I include myself--can find all the sport they want in the less strenuous pursuit. There is not only the exhilaration of searching out the attractive scenes,--the rugged mountain-peak; the woodland brook; the shady lane, with perhaps a border of white birches; the ruined castle; the seaside cliffs; the well-concealed cascade; or the scene of some noteworthy historical event,--but the art of photography itself presents its own problems at every turn. To solve all these; to select the right point of view; to secure an artistic "balance" in all parts of the picture; to avoid the ugly things that sometimes persist in getting in the way; to make due allowance for the effect of wind or motion; to catch the full beauty of the drifting clouds; to obtain the desired transparency in the shadows,--these and a hundred other considerations give sufficient exercise to the most alert mind and add to the never-ending fascination of the game. I have noticed that the camera does not lure one into the beaten tracks which tourists most frequent. It is helpless on the top of a crowded coach or in a swiftly flying motor-car. It gets nervous when too many people are around, especially if they are in a hurry, and fails to do its work. It must be allowed to choose its own paths and to proceed with leisure and calmness. It is a charming guide to follow. I have always felt a sense of relief when able to escape the interminable jargon of the professional guides who conduct tourists through the various show places of Europe, and so far as it has been my fortune to visit such places, have usually left with a vague feeling of disappointment. On the other hand, when, acting under the spell of the camera, I have sought an acquaintance with the owner of some famous house and have proceeded at leisure to photograph the rooms and objects of interest, I have left not only with a sense of complete satisfaction, but with a new friendship to add to the pleasure of future memories. [Illustration: PROFILE LAKE] To visit the places made famous by their associations with literature and with history; to seek the wonders of nature, whether sublime and awe-inspiring, like the mountain-peaks of Switzerland and the vast depths of the Grand Cañon, or restful in their sweet simplicity like the quiet hills and valleys of Westmoreland; to see the people in their homes, whether stately palaces or humble cottages; to find new beauty daily, whether at home or abroad, in the shady woodland path, in the sweep of the hills and the ever-changing panorama of the clouds; to gain that relief from the cares of business or professional life which comes from opening the mind to a free and full contemplation of the picturesque and beautiful,--these are the possibilities offered by amateur photography to those who will follow the lure of the camera. II LITERARY RAMBLES IN GREAT BRITAIN II LITERARY RAMBLES IN GREAT BRITAIN I Emerson said of the English people, "Every one of these islanders is an island himself, safe, tranquil, incommunicable," and that "It is almost an affront to look a man in the face without being introduced." Holmes, on the contrary, records that he and his daughter were "received with nothing but the most overflowing hospitality and the most considerate kindness." Lowell found the average Briton likely to regard himself as "the only real thing in a wilderness of shams," and thought his patronage "divertingly insufferable." On the other hand, he praised the genuineness of the better men of England, as "so manly-tender, so brave, so true, so warranted to wear, they make us proud to feel that blood is thicker than water." Longfellow met at dinner on two successive days what he called "the two opposite poles of English character." One of them was "taciturn, reserved, fastidious" and without "power of enjoyment"; the other was "expansive, hilarious, talking incessantly, laughing loud and long." All of this suggests that in attempting to write one's impressions of the English or any other people, one must remember, what I once heard a Western schoolmaster declare with great emphasis--"some people are not all alike!" I have but one impression to record, namely, that, almost without exception, the people whom we met, both in England and Scotland, manifested a spirit of helpfulness that made our photographic work delightful and led to the accomplishment of results not otherwise obtainable. They not only showed an unexpected interest in our work, but seemed to feel some sense of obligation to assist. This was true even of the policeman at the gate of the Tower of London, who, according to his orders, deprived me of my camera before I could enter. But upon my protesting, he referred me to another guardian of the place, and he to another, until, continuing to pass "higher up," I was at last photographing everything of interest, including the "Beef-Eater" who obligingly carried my case of plates. Whenever difficulties arose, these helpful people always seemed ready with suggestions. It seemed to be more than courtesy. It was rather a friendly sympathy, a desire that I might have what I came for, and a kind of personal anxiety that I should not be disappointed. An incident which happened at the very outset of our photographic experiences in England, and one which was responsible in large measure for much of the success of that undertaking, will serve as an example of the genial and sympathetic spirit which seemed to be everywhere prevalent. We had started to discover and to photograph, so far as possible, the scenes of George Eliot's writings, and on the day of our arrival in London, my wife had found in the British Museum a particularly interesting portrait of George Henry Lewes. She learned that permission to copy it must be obtained from the Keeper of the Prints, and accordingly, on the following morning I appeared in the great room of the Museum where thousands of rare prints are carefully preserved. Sir Sidney Colvin, the distinguished biographer of Robert Louis Stevenson, and the head of this department, was not in, but a polite assistant made note of my name and message, making at the same time an appointment for the next day. At the precise hour named I was present again, revolving in my mind the briefest possible method of requesting permission to copy the Lewes picture. Presently I was informed that Mr. Colvin wished to see me, and I followed the guide, mechanically repeating to myself the little formula or speech I intended to make, and wondering what luck I should have. The formula disappeared instantly as a pleasant-faced gentleman advanced with outstretched hand and genial smile, calling me by name and saying, "I have something I want to show you, if you would care to see it." Considerably surprised, I saw him touch a button as he resumed,--"It's a picture of George Eliot,--at least we think it is, but we are not sure,--we bought it from the executor of the estate of Sir Frederic Burton, the artist." Here the attendant appeared and was instructed to get the portrait. It proved to be a large painting in water-colors of a woman's face, with remarkably strong, almost masculine features and a pair of eyes that seemed to say, "If any woman in the world can do a man's thinking, I'm that person." A letter received subsequently, in answer to my inquiry, from Sir Theodore Martin, who was a lifelong friend of the novelist as well as the painter, definitely established the fact that the newly discovered portrait was a "study" for the authorized portrait which Sir Frederic Burton painted. No doubt the artist came to realize more of the true womanliness of George Eliot's character, for he certainly softened the expression of those determined-looking eyes. After we had discussed the picture at some length, my new-found friend inquired about my plans. I told him I meant to visit, so far as possible, the scenes of George Eliot's novels and to photograph all the various places of interest. "Of course you'll go to Nuneaton?" he asked. "Yes," I replied, in a tone of assurance; "I expect to visit Arbury Hall, the original of Cheverel Manor." "I suppose, then, you are acquainted with Mr. Newdegate," said he, inquiringly. I had to confess that I did not know the gentleman. Mr. Colvin looked at me in surprise. "Why, you can't get in if you don't know him. Arbury is a private estate." This remark struck me with stunning force. I had supposed I could go anywhere. The game was a new one to me, and here at the very beginning appeared to be an insurmountable barrier. Of course, I could not expect to walk into private houses and grounds to make photographs, and how was I to make the acquaintance of these people? Mr. Colvin seemed to read my thought and promptly solved the problem. "I happen to know Mr. Newdegate well. He was a classmate at Oxford. I'll give you a letter of introduction.--No, I'll do better. I'll write and tell him you're coming." This courtesy, from a gentleman to whom I was a complete stranger, was as welcome as it was unexpected, and nearly caused me to forget the original purpose of my call. But Mr. Colvin did not forget. As I was about to leave, he asked if I wished a copy of the Eliot portrait and added, "Of course, you will have permission to copy the Lewes picture"; and the interview ended with his promise to have the official photographer make me copies of both. I returned to the hotel to report that the Lewes picture had been obtained without even asking for it, and the next morning received a message from the owner of Arbury Hall cordially inviting us to visit him. Of Arbury itself I knew little, but I had read, somewhere, that the full-length portraits of Sir Christopher Cheverel and his lady by Sir Joshua Reynolds, which George Eliot describes as hanging side by side in the great saloon of Cheverel Manor, might still be seen at Arbury. I was, therefore, eager to find them. We lost no time in proceeding to Nuneaton, where we passed the night at the veritable tavern which was the scene of Lawyer Dempster's conviviality. Readers of "Janet's Repentance" will recall that the great "man of deeds" addressed the mob in the street from an upper window of the "Red Lion," protesting against the "temptation to vice" involved in the proposition to hold Sunday evening lectures in the church. He brought the meeting to a close by calling for "Three cheers for True Religion"; then retiring with a party of friends to the parlor of the inn, he caused "the most capacious punch-bowl" to be brought out and continued the festivities until after midnight, "when several friends of sound religion were conveyed home with some difficulty, one of them showing a dogged determination to seat himself in the gutter." [Illustration: THE GRAND SALOON, ARBURY HALL] The old tavern, one of the few which still retain the old-fashioned arched doorways through which the coaches used to enter to change horses, boasts of having entertained guests no less distinguished than Oliver Cromwell and the immortal Shakespeare. My wife said she was sure this was true, for the house smelled as if it had not been swept since Shakespeare's time. In the morning we drove to Arbury Hall, the private grounds of which make a beautifully wooded park of three hundred acres. The mansion is seen to the best advantage from the opposite side of a little pool, where the surrounding trees and shrubbery are pleasantly reflected in the still water, where marsh-grass and rushes are waving gently in the summer air, and the pond-lilies spread their round green leaves to make a richer, deeper background for their blossoms of purest white. On a green knoll behind this charming foreground stands a gray stone mansion of rectangular shape, its sharp corners softened with ivy and by the foliage at either end. Three great gothic windows in the center, flanked on both ends by slightly projecting wings, each with a double-storied oriel, and a multitude of pinnacles surmounting the walls on every side, give a distinguished air to the building, as though it were a part of some great cathedral. This Gothic aspect was imparted to the mansion something over a hundred years ago by Sir Roger Newdigate, who was the prototype of George Eliot's Sir Christopher Cheverel, and the novelist describes the place as if in the process of remodeling. We were cordially welcomed by the present owner, Mr. Newdegate, whose hospitality doubly confirmed our first impressions of British courtesy. After some preliminary conversation we rose to begin a tour of inspection. Our host threw open a door and instantly we were face to face with the two full-length portraits of Sir Christopher and Lady Cheverel, which for so long had stood in my mind as the only known objects of interest at Arbury. They are the work, by the way, not of Sir Joshua Reynolds, but of George Romney. George Eliot wrote from memory, probably a full score of years after her last visit to the place, and this is one of several slight mistakes. These fine portraits, really representing Sir Roger Newdigate and his lady, hang at the end of a large and sumptuously furnished room, with high vaulted ceiling in the richest Gothic style, suggesting in the intricate delicacy of its tracery the famous Chapel of Henry VII in Westminster Abbey. The saloon, as the apartment is called, is lighted chiefly by a large bay window, the very one through which Sir Christopher stepped into the room and found various members of his household "examining the progress of the unfinished ceiling." Looking out through these windows, our host noticed some gathering clouds and suggested a drive through the park before the shower. Soon his pony-cart was at the door, drawn by a dainty little horse appropriately named "Lightheart," for no animal with so fond a master could possibly have a care in the world. We stopped for a few minutes at Astley Castle, the "Knebley Abbey" of George Eliot, an old but picturesque mansion, once the residence of the famous Lord Seymour and his ill-fated protégée, Lady Jane Grey. Then, after a brief pause at the parson's cottage, we proceeded to Astley Church, a stone building with a square tower such as one sees throughout England. A flock of sheep pasturing in the inclosure suggested George Eliot's bucolic parson, the Reverend Mr. Gilfil, who smoked his pipe with the farmers and talked of "short-horns" and "sharrags" and "yowes" during the week, and on Sunday after Sunday repeated the same old sermons to the ever-increasing satisfaction of his parishioners. We photographed this ancient temple on the inside as well as outside, for it contains some curious frescoes representing the saints holding ribbons with mottoes from which one is expected to obtain excellent moral lessons. Our next objective was the birthplace of George Eliot, a small cottage standing in one corner of the park. We were driving rapidly along one of the smooth roads leading to the place, when the pony made a sudden turn to the right. I was sitting on the rear seat, facing backward, camera and tripod in hand. The cart went down a steep embankment, then up again, and the next instant I was sprawled ignominiously on the ground, while near by lay the tripod, broken into a hundred splinters. Scrambling to my feet, I saw the pony-cart stuck tight in the mud of a ditch not far away, my wife and our host still on the seat, and nobody the worse for the accident except poor Lightheart, who was almost overcome with excitement. He had encountered some men on the road leading a bull, and quickly resolved not to face what, to one of his gentle breeding, seemed a deadly peril. Leading the trembling Lightheart, we walked back to the house, and in due season sat down to luncheon beneath the high vaulted ceiling of that splendid dining-room, which George Eliot thought "looked less like a place to dine in than a piece of space inclosed simply for the sake of beautiful outline." A cathedral-like aspect is given to the room by the great Gothic windows which form the distinguishing architectural feature of the building. These open into an alcove, large enough in itself, but small when compared with the main part of the room. The ecclesiastical effect is heightened by the rich Gothic ornamentation of the canopies built over various niches in the walls, or rather it would be, were it not for the fact that the latter are filled with life-size statues in white marble, of a distinctly classical character. Opposite the windows is a mantel of generous proportions, in pure white, the rich decorations of which would not be inappropriate for some fine altar-piece; but Cupid and Psyche, standing in a carved niche above, instantly dissipate any churchly thoughts, though they seem to be having a heavenly time. After luncheon we sat for a time in the library, in the left wing of the building, examining a first folio Shakespeare, while our host busied himself with various notes of introduction and other memoranda for our benefit. As we sat in the oriel window of this room,--the same in which Sir Christopher received the Widow Hartopp,--we noticed what appeared to be magazines, fans, and other articles on the chairs and sofas. They proved to be embroidered in the upholstery. It is related that Sir Roger Newdigate--"Sir Christopher Cheverel," it will be remembered--used to remonstrate with his lady for leaving her belongings scattered over his library. She--good woman--was not only obedient, but possessed a sense of humor as well, for she promptly removed the articles, but later took advantage of her lord's absence to leave their "counterfeit presentment" in such permanent form that there they have remained for more than a century. The opposite wing of the mansion contains the drawing-room, adjoining the saloon. It is lighted by an oriel window corresponding to that in the library. The walls are decorated with a series of long narrow panels, united at the top by intricate combinations of graceful pointed arches, in keeping with the Gothic style of the whole building. It was curious to note how well George Eliot remembered it, for here was the full-length portrait of Sir Anthony Cheverel "standing with one arm akimbo," exactly as described. How did the novelist happen to remember that "arm akimbo," if, as is quite likely, she had not seen the room for more than twenty years? It was in this room that Catarina sat down to the harpsichord and poured out her emotions in the deep rich tones of a fine contralto voice. The harpsichord upon which the real Catarina played--her name was Sally Shilton--is now upstairs in the long gallery, and here we saw not only that interesting instrument, but also the "queer old family portraits ... of faded, pink-faced ladies, with rudimentary features and highly developed head-dresses--of gallant gentlemen, with high hips, high shoulders, and red pointed beards." Mr. Newdegate, with that fine spirit of helpfulness that we had met in his friend Mr. Colvin, informed us that he had invited the Reverend Frederick R. Evans, Canon of Bedworth, a nephew of George Eliot, to meet us at luncheon, but an engagement had interfered. We were invited, however, to visit the rectory at Bedworth, and later did so, receiving a cordial welcome. Mrs. Evans took great delight in showing various mementoes of her husband's distinguished relative, including a lace cap worn by George Eliot and a pipe that once belonged to the Countess Czerlaski of "The Sad Fortune of the Reverend Amos Barton." I can still hear the ring of her hearty laugh as she took us into the parlor, and pointing to a painting on the wall, exclaimed, "And here is Aunt Glegg!" There she was, sure enough, with the "fuzzy front of curls" which were always "economized" by not wearing them until after 10.30 A.M. At this point the canon suddenly asked, "Have you seen the stone table?" I had been looking for this table. It is the one where Mr. Casaubon sat when Dorothea found him, apparently asleep, but really dead, as dramatically told in "Middlemarch." I had expected to find it at Griff House, near Nuneaton, the home of George Eliot's girlhood, but the arbor at the end of the Yew Tree Walk was empty. We were quite pleased, therefore, when Mr. Evans took us into his garden and there showed us the original table of stone which the novelist had in mind when she wrote the incident. Among the other things Mr. Newdegate had busied himself in writing, while we sat in his library, was a message to a friend in Nuneaton, Dr. N----, who, he said, knew more about George Eliot than any one else in the neighborhood. We accordingly stopped our little coupé at the doctor's door, as we drove back to town. He insisted upon showing us the landmarks, and as there was no room in our vehicle, mounted his bicycle and told the driver to follow. In this way we were able to identify nearly all the localities of "Amos Barton" and "Janet's Repentance." He also pointed out the schoolhouse where Mary Ann Evans was a pupil in her eighth or ninth year. We arrived just as school was dismissed and a crowd of modern school children insisted upon adding their bright rosy faces to our picture. They looked so fresh and interesting that I made no objection. [Illustration: A SCHOOL IN NUNEATON] On the next evening we were entertained by the doctor and his wife at their home. A picture of Nuneaton fifty years ago attracted my notice. The doctor explained that the artist, when a young girl, had known George Eliot's father and mother, and had been interested to paint various scenes of the earlier stories. He advised us not to call, because the old lady was very feeble. What was my astonishment when, upon returning to London a few weeks later, I found a letter from this same good lady, expressing regret that she had not met us, and stating that she was sending me twenty-five of her water-color sketches. Among them were sketches of John and Emma Gwyther, the original Amos and Milly Barton, drawn from life many years ago. Later she sent me a portrait of Nanny, the housemaid who drove away the bogus countess. These dear people seemed determined to make our quest a success. We now turned our attention to "Adam Bede," traveling into Staffordshire and Derbyshire, where Robert Evans, the novelist's father and the prototype of Adam Bede, was born and spent the years of his young manhood. Here again we were assisted by good-natured English people. The first was a station agent. Just as the twilight was dissolving into a jet-black night we alighted from the train at the little hamlet of Norbury, with a steamer trunk, several pieces of hand-baggage, a camera, and an assortment of umbrellas. We expected to go to Ellastone, two miles away, the original of Hayslope, the home of Adam Bede, and the real home, a century ago, of Robert Evans. After the train left, the only person in sight was the station agent, who looked with some surprise at the pile of luggage. In reply to our question, he recommended walking as the best and only way to reach Ellastone. A stroll of two miles, over an unknown and muddy road, in inky darkness, with two or three hundred pounds of luggage to carry, did not appeal to us, particularly as it was now beginning to rain. We suggested a carriage, but there was none. Hotel? Norbury boasted no such conveniences. It began to look as though we might be obliged to camp out in the rain on the station platform. But the good-natured agent, whose day's work was now done, and who was anxious to go home to his supper, placed the ticket-office, where there was a fire, at our disposal, and a boy was found who was willing to go to Ellastone on his bicycle and learn whether the inn was open (the agent thought not), and if so, whether any one there would send a carriage for us. A long wait of an hour ensued, during which we congratulated ourselves that if we had to sleep on the floor of the ticket-office, it would at least be dryer than the platform. At last the boy returned with the news that the inn was _not_ open, but that a carriage would be sent for us! After another seemingly interminable delay, we finally heard the welcome sound of wheels on the gravel. Our carriage had arrived! It was a butcher's cart. When the baggage was thrown in, there was but one seat left--the one beside the driver. Small chance for two fairly good-sized passengers, but there was only one solution. I climbed in and took the only remaining seat, while my knees automatically formed another one which my companion in misery promptly appropriated, and away we went, twisting and turning through a wet and muddy lane, so dark that the only visible part of the horse was his tail, the mud flying into our faces from one direction and the rain from another, but happy in the hope and expectation that if the cart did not turn over and throw us into the hedges, we should soon find a better place for a night's lodging than a country railway station. In due time we reached the inn, the very one before which Mr. Casson, the landlord, stood and invited Adam Bede to "step in an' tek somethink." We were greeted with equal hospitality by the landlord's wife, who ushered us into the "best parlor," kindled a rousing fire in the grate (English fires are not usually "rousing"), and asked what we would have for supper. By the time the mud had dried in nice hard lozenges on our clothing, an excellent meal was on the table. It disappeared with such promptness as to bring tears of gratitude to the eyes of the cook--none other than the hospitable landlady herself. We then found ourselves settled for the night in a large, airy, and particularly clean bedroom, the best chamber in the house. "Oh, no, sir, the inn is not open," explained our good Samaritan, "but we 're always glad to make strangers comfortable." These words indicate the spirit of the remark, which we comprehended because helped by the good lady's eyes, her smile, and her gestures. I cannot set down the exact words for the reasons set forth by Mr. Casson, George Eliot's landlord of the Donnithorne Arms, who said to Adam: "They 're cur'ous talkers i' this country; the gentry's hard work to hunderstand 'em; I was brought hup among the gentry, sir, an' got the turn o' their tongue when I was a bye. Why, what do you think the folks here says for 'hev n't you'?--the gentry, you know, says, 'hev n't you'--well, the people about here says, 'hanna yey.' It's what they call the dileck as is spoke hereabout, sir." [Illustration: THE BROMLEY-DAVENPORT ARMS] It was curious to note, when we explored the village the next morning, that Ellastone is even now apparently just the same little hamlet it was in the time of George Eliot's father. I had never expected to find the real Hayslope. I supposed, of course, that it would be swallowed up by some big manufacturing town. But here it was exactly as represented--except that Adam Bede's cottage has been enlarged and repainted and a few small houses now occupy the village green where Dinah Morris preached. The parish church, with its square stone tower and clock of orthodox style, still remains the chief landmark of the village as it was on the day in 1801 when Robert Evans married his first wife, Harriet Poynton, a servant in the Newdigate family, by whom the young man was also employed as a carpenter. Mr. Francis Newdigate, the great-grandfather of our friend at Arbury, lived in Wootton Hall and was the original of the old squire in "Adam Bede." This fine old estate was the Donnithorne Chase of the novel, and therefore we found it worthy of a visit. We found the fine old "hoaks" there, which Mr. Casson mentioned to Adam, and with them some equally fine elms and a profusion of flowers, the latter tastefully arranged about a series of broad stone terraces, stained with age and partly covered with ivy, which gave the place the dignified aspect of some ancient palace of the nobility. Much to our regret the owner was not at home, but the gardener maintained the hitherto unbroken chain of courtesy by showing us the beauties of the place from all the best points of view. It has not been my intention to follow in detail the events of our exploration of the country of George Eliot, nor to describe the many scenes of varied interest which were gradually unfolded to us. I have sought rather to suggest what is likely to happen to an amateur photographer in search of pictures, and how such a quest becomes a real pleasure when the people one meets manifest a genuine interest and a spirit of friendly helpfulness such as we experienced almost invariably. II There were some occasions upon which the chain of courtesy, to which I have previously referred, if not actually broken, received some dangerous strains, when great care had to be taken lest it snap asunder. There are surly butlers and keepers in England as elsewhere, and we encountered one of the species in the Lake District. I had called at the country residence of Captain ----, a wealthy gentleman and a member of Parliament. The place was celebrated for its wonderful gardens and is described in one of the novels of Mrs. Humphry Ward. His High-and-Mightiness, the Butler, was suffering from a severe attack of the Grouch, resulting in a stiffening of the muscles of the back and shoulders. He would do nothing except inform me that his Master was "not at 'ome." I could only leave a message and say I would return. The next day I was greeted by the same Resplendent Person, his visage suffused with smiles and his spinal column oscillating like an inverted pendulum. "Captain ---- is ex-_treme_-ly sorry he cawnt meet you, sir. He's _obliged_ to be in Lunnun to-day, sir, but he _towld_ me to _sai_ to you, sir, that you're to _taik_ everythink in the 'ouse you _want_, sir." And then the Important One gave me full possession while I photographed the most interesting rooms, coming back occasionally to inquire whether I wished him to move "hany harticles of furniture," afterward hunting up the gardener, who in turn conducted me through the sacred precincts of his own particular domain. At another time, also in connection with Mrs. Ward's novels, I came dangerously near to another break. It was down in Surrey, whither we had gone to visit the scenery of "Robert Elsmere." I knocked at the door of a little stone cottage celebrated in the novel, and was shown into the presence of a very old gentleman, who looked suspiciously, first at my card, and then at me, finally demanding to know what I wanted. I explained that I was an American and had come to take a picture of his house. He looked puzzled, and after some further scrutiny of my face, my clothes, my shoes, and my hat, said slowly, "Well, you people in America must be crazy to come all the way over here to photograph this house. I have always said it's the ugliest house in England, owned by the ugliest landlord that ever lived, and occupied by the ugliest tenant in the parish." Fortunately he was not possessed of the Oriental delusion that a photograph causes some of the virtue of an individual (or of a house) to pass out into the picture, and upon further reflection concluded that if a harmless lunatic wanted to make a picture of his ugly old house, it wouldn't matter much after all. Not infrequently it happened that the keepers in charge of certain places of public interest, while desiring to be courteous themselves, were bound by strict instructions from their superiors. In the year when we were exploring the length and breadth of England and Scotland in search of the scenes of Sir Walter Scott's writings, we came one day to a famous hall, generously thrown open to the public by the Duke of ----, who owned it. Here we found a rule that the use of "stands" or tripods would not be permitted in the building. Snap-shots with hand-cameras were freely allowed, but these are always more or less dependent on chance, and for interior views, requiring a long time-exposure, are worthless. The duke, apparently, did not mind poor pictures, but was afraid of good ones. I felt that I really must have views of the famous rooms of that house, and we pleaded earnestly with the keeper. But orders were orders and he remained inflexible, but always courteous. He wanted to help, however, and finally conducted me to a cottage near by where I was presented to his immediate superior, a good-looking and good-natured woman. She, too, was willing and even anxious to oblige, but the duke's orders were imperative. Finally a thought struck me. "You say stands are forbidden--would it be an infraction of the rules if I were to rest my camera on a table or chair?" "Oh, no, indeed!" she quickly replied; then, calling to the keeper, said, "John, I want you to do everything you can for this gentleman." John seemed pleased. He first performed his duty to the duke by locking up the dangerous tripod where it could do no harm. Then taking charge of us, he conducted us through the well-worn rooms, meanwhile instructing his daughter to look after other visitors and keep them out of our way. I rested my camera on ancient chairs and tables so precious that the visitors were not permitted to touch them, John kindly removing the protecting ropes. We were taken to parts of the house and garden not usually shown to visitors, so anxious was our guide to assist in our purpose. At last we came to a great ballroom, with richly carved woodwork, but absolutely bare of furniture. Here the forbidden "stand" was sorely needed. My companion promptly came to the rescue. "I'll be the tripod," said she. The hint was a good one, so, resting the camera upon her shoulder, I soon had my picture composed and in focus. Then, placing the camera on a convenient window-ledge just above my head, and making allowance for the increased elevation, I gave the plate a long exposure and the result was as good an "interior" as I ever made. This is one of the best parts of the game--the overcoming of obstacles. Without it, photography would be poor fun, something like the game of checkers I once played with a village rustic. He swept off all my men in half a dozen moves and then went away disgusted. I was too easy. A picture that is not worth taking a little trouble to get is usually not worth having. I have even been known to take pictures I really did not need, just because some unexpected difficulties arose. Another part of the pursuit, which I have always enjoyed, is the quiet amusement one can often derive from unexpected situations. One day in London, when the streets were pretty well crowded with Coronation visitors, we decided to take a picture of the new Victoria Monument in front of Buckingham Palace. I had taken the precaution to secure a permit, so, without asking any questions, proceeded to spread out my tripod and compose my picture. Just as I inserted the plate-holder, a "Bobby," by which name the London policeman is generally known, appeared, advancing with an air that plainly said, "I'll soon stop _that_ game, my fine fellow!" I expressed my surprise and said I had a permit, at the same time drawing the slide--an action which, not being a photographer, he did not consider significant. He looked scornfully at the permit, and said it was not good after 10 A.M. Here, again, the assistant photographer of our expedition came to the rescue. She exercised the woman's privilege of asking "Why?" and "Bobby" moved from in front of the camera to explain. "Click" went the shutter, in went the slide, out came the plate-holder, and into the case went the camera. "Bobby" politely apologized for interfering, and expressed his deep regret at being obliged to disappoint us. I solemnly assured him that it was all right, that he had only done his duty and that I did not blame him in the least! But I neglected to inform him that the Victoria Monument was already mine. [Illustration: THE BIRTHPLACE OF ROBERT BURNS] One of the pleasures of rambling with a camera is that it takes you to so many out-of-the-way places, which you would not otherwise be likely to visit. Dorothy Wordsworth in her "Recollections of a Tour in Scotland" complains that all the roads and taverns in Scotland are bad. Dorothy ought to have known, for she and William walked most of the way to save their bones from dislocation by the jolting of their little cart, and their limited resources compelled them to seek the shelter and food of the poorest inns. The modern tourist, on the contrary, will find excellent roads and for the most part hotel accommodations where he can be fairly comfortable. It was something of a rarity, therefore, when, as occasionally happened, we could find nothing but an inn of the kind that flourished a century ago. On a very rainy morning in May we alighted from the train at the little village of Ecclefechan, known to the world only as the birthplace of Thomas Carlyle. A farmer at the station, of whom we inquired the location of a good hotel, answered in a Scotch dialect so broad that we could not compass it. By chance a carriage stood near by, and as it afforded the only escape from the pouring rain, we stepped in and trusted to luck. The vehicle presently drew up before the door of a very ancient hotel, from which the landlady, whom we have ever since called "Mrs. Ecclefechan," came out to meet us. She was a frail little woman, well along in years, with thin features, sharp eyes, and a bald head, the last of which she endeavored to conceal beneath a sort of peaked black bonnet, tied with strings beneath her chin, and suggesting the rather curious spectacle of a bishop's miter above a female face. Her dress was looped up by pinning the bottom of it around her waist, exposing a gray-and-white striped petticoat that came down halfway between the knees and the ankles, beneath which were a pair of coarse woolen stockings and some heavy shoes. A burlap apron completed the costume. Our hostess, who seemed to be proprietor, clerk, porter, cook, chambermaid, waitress, barmaid, and bootblack of the establishment, was possessed of a kind heart, and she made us as comfortable as her limited facilities would permit. We were taken into the public-room, a space about twelve feet square, with a small open fire at one end, benches around the walls and a table occupying nearly all the remaining space. Across a narrow passage was the kitchen, where the landlady baked her oatmeal cake and served the regulars who came for a "penny'orth o' rum" and a bit of gossip. In front was another tiny room where were served fastidious guests who did not care to eat in the kitchen. At noon we sat down to a luncheon, which might have been worse, and at five were summoned into the little room again. We thought it curious to serve hard boiled eggs with afternoon tea, and thinking supper would soon be ready, declined them. This proved a sad mistake for Americans with big, healthy appetites, for the supper never came. The eggs were it. We spent the evening in the public-room sitting near the fire. One by one the villagers dropped in, each man ordering his toddy and spending an hour or two over a very small glass. The evenings had been spent in that way in that place for a hundred years. We seemed to be in the atmosphere of "long ago." A middle-aged Scotchman, whose name was pronounced, very broadly, "Fronk," seemed to feel the responsibility of entertaining us. He sang, very sweetly I thought, a song by Lady Nairne, "The Auld Hoose," and recited with fine appreciation the lines of Burns's "Lament for James, Earl of Glencairn," "To a Mouse," "To a Louse," and other poems. He related how Burns once helped a friend out of a dilemma. Three women had been buried side by side. The son of one of them wished to put an inscription on his mother's tombstone, but the sexton could not remember which grave was hers. Burns solved the problem by suggesting these lines:-- "Here, or there, or thereaboots, Lies the body of Janet Coutts, But here, or there, or whereaboots, Nane can tell Till Janet rises and tells hersel." Our landlady assured us that Fronk "had the bluid o' Douglas in his veins," but he was now only a poor "ne'er-do-weel," picking up "a bit shillin'" now and then. But he loved Bobbie Burns. After the evening's entertainment we were shown to a tiny bedroom. Over the horrors upstairs I must draw the veil of charity, only remarking that if I ever go to Ecclefechan again I shall seek out a nice soft pile of old scrap-iron for a couch, rather than risk another night on one of those beds. Of course we visited the birthplace of Carlyle, which is now one of the "restored" show places, and an interesting one. We also went to the graveyard to see the tomb of Carlyle. Here we were conducted by an old woman, nearly ninety years of age, very poor and feeble, who had lived in the village all her days. We asked if she had ever seen Carlyle. "Oh, yes," she replied, wearily, "I hae seen 'im. He was a coo-rious mon." Then brightening she added, with a smile that revealed her heart of hearts, "But we a' _love_ Bobbie Burns." And so we found it throughout Scotland. The feeble old woman and the dissipated wanderer shared with the intelligent and cultivated classes a deep-seated and genuine love for their own peasant poet, whom they invariably called, affectionately, "Bobbie." [Illustration: THE BURNS MONUMENT, AYRSHIRE] It was not long after this that we had occasion to visit the land of Burns, for a trip through Scotland, even when undertaken primarily for the sake of Scott landmarks, as ours was, would scarcely be possible without many glimpses of the places made famous by the elder and less cultured but not less beloved poet. Scott's intimacy with Adam Ferguson, the son of the distinguished Dr. Adam Ferguson, was the means of his introduction to the best literary society in Edinburgh, and it was at the house of the latter, that Scott, then a boy of fifteen, met Burns for the first and only time. He attracted the notice of the elder poet by promptly naming the author of a poem which Burns had quoted, when no one else in the room could give the information. It is a far cry from the aristocratic quarters of Dr. Ferguson to the tavern in the Canongate where the "Crochallan Fencibles" used to meet, but here the lines crossed again, for to this resort for convivial souls Burns came to enjoy the bacchanalian revels known as "High Jinks," in the same way as did Andrew Crosbie, the original of Scott's fictitious Paulus Pleydell. We went to the old town of Dumfries to see a number of places described by Scott in "Guy Mannering," "Redgauntlet," and other novels, and found ourselves in the very heart of the Burns country. In the center of High Street stands the old Midsteeple in one room of which the original Effie Deans, whose real name was Isabel Walker, was tried for child murder. Here the real Jeanie Deans refused to tell a lie to save her sister's life, afterward walking to London to secure her pardon. Almost around the corner is the house where Burns's Jean lived, and where "Bobbie" died. In the same town is the churchyard of St. Michaels where Burns lies buried in a handsome "muselum," as one of the natives informed us. Out on the road toward the old church of Kirkpatrick Irongray, where Scott erected a monument to Helen Walker, the prototype of Jeanie Deans, is a small remnant of the house once occupied by that heroine. In the same general direction but a little farther to the north, on the banks of the river Nith, is Ellisland, where Burns attempted to manage a farm, attend to the duties of an excise officer, and write poetry, all at the same time. Out of the last came "Tam o' Shanter," but the other two "attempts" were failures. We traveled down to Ayrshire to see the coast of Carrick and what is left of the ancestral home of Robert Bruce, where the Scottish hero landed, with the guidance of supernatural fires, as graphically related by Scott in "The Lord of the Isles." Here again we were in Burns's own country. In the city of Ayr we saw the "Twa Brigs" and the very tavern which Tam o' Shanter may be supposed to have frequented,-- "And at his elbow, Souter Johnie, His ancient, trusty, drouthy cronie." Of course we drove to Burns's birthplace, about three miles to the south, a long, narrow cottage with a thatched roof, one end of which was dwelling-house and the other end stable. It was built by the poet's father, with his own hands, and when Robert was born there in the winter of 1759 probably looked a great deal less respectable than it does now. Continuing southward, we stopped at Alloway Kirk for a view of the old church where Tam o' Shanter first saw the midnight dancing of the witches and started on his famous ride. The keeper felt personally aggrieved because I preferred to utilize my limited time to make a picture of the church, rather than listen to his repetition of a tale which I already knew by heart. We traveled over Tam's route and soon had a fine view of the old "Brig o' Doon," where Tam at length escaped the witches at the expense of his poor nag's tail. I have made few pictures that pleased me more than that of the "auld brig," which I was able to get by placing my camera on the new bridge near by. Here the memory of Burns is again accentuated by a graceful memorial, in the form of a Grecian temple and very similar to the one on Calton Hill, Edinburgh, but far more beautifully situated. It is surrounded by a garden of well-trimmed yews, shrubbery of various kinds, and a wealth of brightly blooming flowers, and best of all, stands well above the "banks and braes o' bonnie Doon," where the poet himself would have been happy to stand and look upon his beloved river. [Illustration: THE BRIG O' DOON, AYRSHIRE] Whatever may have been "Bobbie's" faults, and, poor fellow, they were many and grievous, there is nothing more beautiful than the mantle of love beneath which they have been concealed and forgotten. He touched the hearts of his countrymen as none other ever did, and out of the sordid earth of his shortcomings have sprung beautiful flowers, laid out along well-ordered and graceful paths, a delight and solace to his fellow-men, like the brilliant blossoms that brighten the lovely garden at the base of his memorial overlooking the Doon. III A DAY IN WORDSWORTH'S COUNTRY III A DAY IN WORDSWORTH'S COUNTRY Our arrival on Saturday evening at the village of Windermere was like the sudden and unexpected realization of a dream. On many a winter night, under the light of our library lamp at home, we had talked of that vague, distant "sometime" when we should visit the English Lakes. And now--by what curious combination of circumstances we did not try to analyze--here we were with the whole beautiful panorama, in all its evening splendors, spread out before us. Through our minds passed, as in a vision, the whole company of poets who are inseparably associated with these scenes: Wordsworth, whose abiding influence upon the spirit of poetry will endure as long as the mountains and vales which taught him to love and reverence nature; Southey, who, himself without the appreciation of nature, was the first to recognize Wordsworth's rare power of interpreting her true meaning; Coleridge, the most intimate friend of the greater poet, whom Wordsworth declared to be the most wonderful man he ever met, and who, in spite of those shortcomings which caused his life to end in worldly failure, nevertheless possessed a native eloquence and alluring personality. Nor should we forget De Quincey, who spent twenty of the happiest years of his life at Dove Cottage, as the successor of the Wordsworths. His most intimate companion was the famous Professor Wilson of Edinburgh, known to all readers of "Blackwood's Magazine" as "Christopher North." Attracted partly by the beauty of the Lake Country, but more by his desire to cultivate the intimacy of Wordsworth, whose genius he greatly admired, Professor Wilson bought a pretty place in Cumberland, where he lived for several years. He enjoyed the companionship of the friendly group of poets, but, we are told, occasionally sought a different kind of pleasure in measuring his strength with some of the native wrestlers, one of the most famous of whom has testified that he found him "a very bad un to lick." At a later time, Dr. Arnold of Rugby found himself drawn to the Lakes by the same double attraction, and built the charming cottage at Fox How on the River Rothay, where his youngest daughter still resides. He wrote in 1832: "Our intercourse with the Wordsworths was one of the brightest spots of all; nothing could exceed their friendliness, and my almost daily walks with him were things not to be forgotten." It was not alone the beauty of the Westmoreland scenery that had attracted this group of famous men. There are lovelier lakes in Scotland and more majestic mountains in Switzerland. But Wordsworth was here, in the midst of those charming displays of Nature in her most cheerful as well as most soothing moods. Nature's best interpreter and Nature herself could be seen together. For a hundred years this same influence has continued to exercise its spell upon travelers, and we are bound to recognize the fact that this, and nothing else, had drawn us away from our prearranged path, that we might enjoy the pleasure of a Sunday in the country of Wordsworth. The morning dawned, bright and beautiful, suggesting that splendid day when Wordsworth, then a youth of eighteen, found himself possessed of an irresistible desire to devote his life to poetry: "Magnificent The morning rose, in memorable pomp, Glorious as e'er I had beheld--in front, The sea lay laughing at a distance; near, The solid mountains shone, bright as the clouds, Grain-tinctured, drenched in empyrean light; And in the meadows and the lower grounds Was all the sweetness of a common dawn-- Dews, vapors, and the melody of birds, And laborers going forth to till the fields. Ah! need I say, dear Friend, that to the brim My heart was full; I made no vows, but vows Were then made for me; bond unknown to me Was given, that I should be, else sinning greatly, A dedicated spirit." We resolved that the whole of this beautiful day should be devoted to catching something of that indefinable spirit of the Westmoreland hills which had made a poet of Wordsworth, and through him taught the love of Nature to countless thousands. A few steps took us away from the town, the inn, and the other tourists, into a quiet woodland path leading toward the lake, at the end of which we stood "On long Winander's eastern shore." "Winander" is the old form of Windermere. The lake was the scene of many of Wordsworth's boyhood experiences. "When summer came, Our pastime was, on bright half-holidays, To sweep along the plain of Windermere With rival oars; and the selected bourne Was now an Island musical with birds That sang and ceased not; now a Sister Isle Beneath the oaks' umbrageous covert, sown With lilies of the valley like a field; And now a third small Island, where survived In solitude the ruins of a shrine Once to Our Lady dedicate, and served Daily with chaunted rites. In such a race, So ended, disappointment could be none, Uneasiness, or pain, or jealousy: We rested in the shade, all pleased alike, Conquered and conqueror. Thus the pride of strength, And the vainglory of superior skill, Were tempered." Wordsworth's boyhood was probably very much like that of other boys. He tells us that he was "stiff, moody, and of a violent temper"--so much so that he went up into his grandfather's attic one day, while under the resentment of some indignity, determined to destroy himself. But his heart failed. On another occasion he relates that while at his grandfather's house in Penrith, he and his eldest brother Richard were whipping tops in the large drawing-room. "The walls were hung round with family pictures, and I said to my brother, 'Dare you strike your whip through that old lady's petticoat?' He replied, 'No, I won't.' 'Then,' said I, 'here goes!' and I struck my lash through her hooped petticoat; for which, no doubt, though I have forgotten it, I was properly punished. But, possibly from some want of judgment in the punishments inflicted, I had become perverse and obstinate in defying chastisement, and rather proud of it than otherwise." Lowell remarks upon this incident: "Just so do we find him afterward striking his defiant lash through the hooped petticoat of the artificial style of poetry, and proudly unsubdued by the punishment of the Reviewers." When scarcely ten years old, it was his joy "To range the open heights where woodcocks run." He would spend half the night "scudding away from snare to snare," sometimes yielding to the temptation to take the birds caught in the snare of some other lad. He felt the average boy's terror inspired by a guilty conscience, for he says:-- "And when the deed was done, I heard among the solitary hills Low breathings coming after me, and sounds Of undistinguishable motion, steps Almost as silent as the turf they trod." Across the lake from where we stood, and over beyond the hills on the other side, is the quaint old town of Hawkshead, where Wordsworth was sent to school at the age of nine years. The little schoolhouse may still be seen, but it is of small import. The real scenes of Wordsworth's early education were the woods and vales, the solitary cliffs, the rocks and pools, and the Lake of Esthwaite, five miles round, which he was fond of encircling in his early morning walks, that he might sit "Alone upon some jutting eminence, At the first gleam of dawn-light, when the Vale, Yet slumbering, lay in utter solitude." In winter-time "a noisy crew" made merry upon the icy surface of the lake. "All shod with steel, We hissed along the polished ice in games Confederate, imitative of the chase And woodland pleasures,--the resounding horn, The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare. So through the darkness and the cold we flew, And not a voice was idle." Nor were the pleasures of social life lacking. Dances, feasts, public revelry, and "A swarm Of heady schemes, jostling each other," all seemed for a time to conspire to lure his mind away from the paths of "books and nature," which he would have preferred. But, curiously enough, it was after one of these nights of revelry that, on his way home, Wordsworth was so much impressed with the beauties of the dawn that he felt the impulse, previously mentioned, to devote himself to poetry. No other poet ever gave such an account of the development of his own mind as Wordsworth gives in the "Prelude." And while he recounts enough incidents like the snaring of woodcock, the fishing for trout in the quiet pools and the cascades of the mountain brooks, the flying of kites on the hilltops, the nutting expeditions, the rowing on the lake, and in the winter-time the skating and dancing, to convince us that he was really a boy, yet he continually shows that beneath it all there was a deeper feeling--a prophecy of the man who was even then developing. No ordinary boy would have been conscious of "a sense of pain" at beholding the mutilated hazel boughs which he had broken in his search for nuts. No ordinary lad of ten would be able to hold "Unconscious intercourse with beauty Old as creation, drinking in a pure Organic pleasure from the silver wreaths Of curling mist, or from the level plain Of waters colored by impending clouds." Even at that early age, in the midst of all his pleasures he felt "Gleams like the flashing of a shield;--the earth And common face of Nature spake to me Rememberable things." The secret of Wordsworth's power lay in the fact that, throughout a long life, nature was to him a vital, living Presence--one capable of uplifting mankind to loftier aspirations, of teaching noble truths, and at the same time providing tranquillity and rest to the soul. As a boy he had felt for nature "A feeling and a love That had no need of a remoter charm." But manhood brought a deeper joy. "For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue. And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime of Something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean, and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man; A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods And mountains, and of all that we behold From this green earth; of all the mighty world Of eye and ear--both what they half create, And what perceive; well pleased to recognize In nature and the language of the sense, The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul Of all my moral being." In these noble lines we reach the very summit of Wordsworth's intellectual power and poetic genius. We must now retrace our steps to the village and find a carriage to take us on our journey. For we are not like our English friends, who are good walkers, nor do we care to emulate the pedestrian attainments of our poet, who, De Quincey thought, must have traversed a distance of one hundred and seventy-five thousand to one hundred and eighty thousand English miles. So a comfortable landau takes us on our way, skirting the upper margin of the lake, then winding along the river Brathay, pausing for a moment to view the charming little cascade of Skelwith Force, then on again until Red Bank is reached, overlooking the vale of Grasmere. The first glimpse of this placid little lake, "with its one green island," its shores well fringed with the budding foliage of spring, the gently undulating hills forming as it were a graceful frame to the mirror of the waters, in which the reflection of the blue sky and fleecy white clouds seemed even more beautiful than their original overhead--the first glimpse could scarcely fail to arouse the emotions of the most apathetic and stir up a poetic feeling in the most unpoetic of natures. To a mind like Wordsworth's, such a scene was an inspiration, a revelation of Nature's charms such as could arouse an almost ecstatic enthusiasm in the heart of one who, all his life, had lived amid scenes of beauty and possessed the eyes to see them. He came here first "a roving schoolboy," on a "golden summer holiday," and even then said, with a sigh,-- "What happy fortune were it here to live!" He had no thought, nor even hope, that he would ever realize such good fortune, but only "A fancy in the heart of what might be The lot of others never could be his." [Illustration: GRASMERE LAKE] Possibly he may have stood on this very knoll where we were enjoying our first view:-- "The station whence we looked was soft and green, Not giddy, yet aërial, with a depth Of vale below, a height of hills above. For rest of body perfect was the spot, All that luxurious nature could desire; But stirring to the spirit; who could gaze And not feel motions there?" Many years later, in the summer of 1799, Wordsworth and Coleridge were walking together over the hills and valleys of Westmoreland and Cumberland, hoping to find, each for himself, a home where they might dwell as neighbors. Since receiving his degree at Cambridge in 1791 Wordsworth had wandered about in a somewhat aimless way, living for a time in London and in France, visiting Germany, and finally attempting to find a home in the south of England. A small legacy left him in 1795 had given a feeling of independence, and his one consuming desire at this time was to establish a home where his beloved sister Dorothy might be with him and he could devote his entire time to poetry. A little cottage in a quiet spot just outside the village of Grasmere attracted his eye. It had been a public-house, and bore the sign "The Dove and the Olive Bough." He called it "Dove Cottage," and for eight years it became his home. We found the custodian, a little old lady, in a penny shop across the street, and she was glad to show us through the tiny, low-ceilinged rooms. The cottage looks best from the little garden in the rear. The ivy and the roses soften all the harsh angles of the eaves and convert even the chimney-pots into things of beauty. A tangled mass of foliage covers the small back portico and makes a shady nook, where a little bench is invitingly placed. A few yards up the garden walk, over stone steps put in place by Wordsworth and Hartley Coleridge, is the rocky well, or spring, where the poet placed "bright gowan and marsh marigold" brought from the borders of the lake. At the farthest end is the little summer-house, the poet's favorite retreat. How well he loved this garden is shown in the poem written when he left Grasmere to bring home his bride in 1802:-- "Sweet garden orchard, eminently fair, The loveliest spot that man hath ever found." Seating ourselves in this garden, we tried to think of the three interesting personages who had made the place their home. Coleridge said, "His is the happiest family I ever saw." They had one common object--to work together to develop a rare poetic gift. They were poor, for Wordsworth had only the income of a very small legacy, and the public had not yet come to recognize his genius; the returns from his literary work were therefore extremely meager. They got along with frugal living and poor clothing, but as they made no pretensions they were never ashamed of their poverty. Visitors came and went, and at the cost of many little sacrifices were hospitably entertained. Perhaps the world will never know how much Wordsworth really owed to the two women of his household. They lived together with no sign of jealousy or distrust. The husband and brother was the object of their untiring and sympathetic devotion. They walked with him, read with him, cared for him. Mrs. Wordsworth seems to have been a plain country-woman of simple manners, yet possessed of a graciousness and tact which made everything in the household go smoothly. De Quincey declared that, "without being handsome or even comely," she exercised "all the practical fascination of beauty, through the mere compensating charms of sweetness all but angelic, of simplicity the most entire, womanly self-respect and purity of heart speaking through all her looks, acts, and movements." Wordsworth was never more sincere than when he sang,-- "She was a phantom of delight," and closed the poem with that splendid tribute to a most excellent wife:-- "A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command; And yet a spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light." He recognized her unusual poetic instinct by giving her full credit for the best two lines in one of his most beautiful poems, "The Daffodils":-- "They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude." To the other member of that household, his sister Dorothy, Wordsworth gave from early boyhood the full measure of his affection. She was his constant companion in his walks, at all hours and in all kinds of weather. She cheerfully performed the irksome task of writing out his verses from dictation. Her observations of nature were as keen as his, and the poet was indebted to Dorothy's notebook for many a good suggestion. He has been most generous in his acknowledgments of his obligation to her:-- "She gave me eyes, she gave me ears, And humble cares, and delicate fears, * * * * * And love, and thought, and joy." In the early days when he was overwhelmed with adverse criticism and brought almost to the verge of despair, it was Dorothy's helping hand that brought him back to his own. "She whispered still that brightness would return; She, in the midst of all, preserved me still A poet, made me seek beneath that name, And that alone, my office upon earth." [Illustration: DOVE COTTAGE, GRASMERE] But it is De Quincey who gives the best statement of the world's obligation to Dorothy. Said he:-- Whereas the intellect of Wordsworth was, by its original tendency, too stern, too austere, too much enamored of an ascetic harsh sublimity, she it was--the lady who paced by his side continually through sylvan and mountain tracks, in Highland glens, and in the dim recesses of German charcoal-burners--that first couched his eye to the sense of beauty, humanized him by the gentler charities, and engrafted, with her delicate female touch, those graces upon the ruder growths of nature which have since clothed the forest of his genius with a foliage corresponding in loveliness and beauty to the strength of its boughs and the massiveness of its trunks. Nearly all of Wordsworth's best poetry was written in this little cottage, or, to speak more accurately, it was composed while he was living here. For it was never his way to write verses while seated at a desk, pen in hand. His study was out of doors. He could compose a long poem while walking, and remember it all afterward when ready to dictate. Thousands of verses, he said, were composed on the banks of the brook running through Easedale, just north of Grasmere Lake. The tall figure of the poet was a familiar sight to farmers for miles around, as he paced the woods or mountain paths, his head bent down, and his lips moving with audible if not distinguishable sounds. One of his neighbors has left on record an impression of how he seemed when he was "making a poem." He would set his head a bit forward, and put his hands behind his back. And then he would start in bumming, and it was bum, bum, bum, stop; and then he'd set down, and git a bit o' paper out, and write a bit. However, his lips were always goan' whoole time he was upon gress[1] walk. He was a kind mon, there's no two words about that; and if any one was sick i' the place, he wad be off to see til' 'em. In personal appearance--about which, by the way, he cared little--he was not unlike the dalesmen about him. Nearly six feet high, he looked strong and hardy enough to be a farmer himself. Carlyle speaks of him as "businesslike, sedately confident, no discourtesy, yet no anxiety about being courteous; a fine wholesome rusticity, fresh as his mountain breezes, sat well on the stalwart veteran and on all he said or did." On our return from Grasmere we took the road along the north shore of Rydal Water--a small lake with all the characteristic beauty of this fascinating region, and yet not so different from hundreds of others that it would ever attract more than passing notice. But the name of Rydal is linked with that of Grasmere, and the two are visited by thousands of tourists year after year. For fifty years the shores of these two lakes and the hills and valleys surrounding them were the scenes of Wordsworth's daily walks. As we passed we heard the cuckoo--its mysterious sound seeming to come across the lake--and as our own thoughts were on Wordsworth, "the wandering Voice" seemed appropriate. If we could have heard the skylark at that moment, our sense of satisfaction would have been quite complete, and no doubt we should have cried out, with the poet,-- "Up with me! up with me into the clouds! For thy song, Lark, is strong; Up with me, up with me into the clouds! Singing, singing, With clouds and sky about thee ringing, Lift me, guide me till I find That spot which seems so to thy mind." Just north of the eastern end of the lake, beneath the shadow of Nab Scar, is Rydal Mount, where the poet came to live in 1813, remaining until his death, thirty-seven years later. Increasing prosperity enabled him to take this far more pretentious house. It stands on a hill, a little off the main road, and quite out of sight of the tourists who pass through in coaches and _chars-à-bancs_. The drivers usually jerk their thumbs in the general direction and say, "There is Rydal Mount," etc., and the tourists, who have seen only a farmhouse--not Wordsworth's--are left to imagine that they have seen the house of the poet. It is an old house, but some recent changes in doors and windows give it a more modern aspect. The unaltered portion is thickly covered with ivy. The ground in front is well planted with a profusion of rhododendrons. A very old stone stairway descends from the plaza in front of the house to a kind of mound or rather a double mound, the smaller resting upon a larger one. From this point the house is seen to the best advantage. In the opposite direction is a landscape of rare natural beauty. Far away in the distance lies Lake Windermere glistening like a shield of polished silver, while on the left Wansfell and on the right Nab Scar stand guard over the valley. In the foreground the spire of the little church of Rydal peeps out over the trees. At the right of the house is a long terrace which formed one of Wordsworth's favorite walks, where he composed thousands of verses. From here one may see both Windermere and Rydal Water, with mountains in the distance. Passing through the garden we came to a gate leading to Dora's Field. Here is the little pool where Wordsworth and Dora put the little goldfishes, that they might enjoy a greater liberty. Here is the stone which Wordsworth saved from destruction by the builders of a stone wall. A little flight of stone steps leads down to another boulder containing the following inscription, carved by the poet's own hand:-- Wouldst thou be gathered to Christ's chosen flock Shun the broad way too easily explored And let thy path be hewn out of the rock The living Rock of God's eternal WORD 1838 [Illustration: WORDSWORTH'S WELL] Dora's field is thickly covered in spring-time with the beautiful golden daffodils, planted by the poet himself. No sight is more fascinating at this season than a field of these bright yellow flowers. We Americans, who only see them planted in gardens, cannot realize what daffodils mean to the English eye, unless we chance to visit England during the early spring. What Wordsworth called a "crowd" of daffodils, growing in thick profusion along the margin of a lake, beneath the trees, ten thousand to be seen at a glance, all nodding their golden heads beside the dancing and foaming waves, is a sight well worth seeing. "The waves beside them danced; but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee; A poet could not but be gay In such a jocund company: I gazed--and gazed--but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude: And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils." But now the time had come to return to Windermere, and reluctantly we turned our backs upon these scenes, so full of pleasant memories. The day, however, was not yet done, for after supper we climbed to the top of Orrest-Head, a little hill behind the village. No more charming spot could have been chosen in which to spend the closing hours of this peaceful day. Far below lay the quiet waters of the lake, only glimpses of its long and narrow surface appearing here and there, like "burnished mirrors" set by Nature for the sole purpose of reflecting a magnificent golden sky. It was "an evening of extraordinary, splendor," like that one which Wordsworth saw from Rydal Mount:-- "No sound is uttered,--but a deep And solemn harmony pervades The hollow vale from steep to steep, And penetrates the glades." As we stood watching the splendid sunset, the village church rang out its chimes, as if to accompany the inspiring scene with sweet and holy music. "How pleasant, when the sun declines, to view The spacious landscape change in form and hue! Here vanish, as in mist, before a flood Of bright obscurity, hill, lawn, and wood; Their objects, by the searching beams betrayed, Come forth and here retire in purple shade; Even the white stems of birch, the cottage white, Soften their glare before the mellow light." The shadows which had been slowly falling upon the scene had now so far enveloped the mountain-side that the narrow roadways and stone fences marking the boundaries of the fields were barely visible. Suddenly in the distance we saw a moving object, a mere speck upon the hillside. It darted first in one direction and then another, like some frightened being uncertain which way to turn. Then a darker speck appeared, and with rapid movement circled to the rear of the whiter one, the latter moving on ahead. Another sudden movement, and a second white speck appeared in another spot. The black speck as quickly moved to the rear of this second bit of white, driving it in the same direction as the first. The white specks then began to seem more numerous. We tried to count--one--two--three--ten--a dozen--perhaps even twenty. There was but one black speck, and he seemed to be the master of all the others, for, darting here and there after the stragglers, he kept them all together. He drove them along the narrow road. Then, coming to an opening in the fence, he hurried along to the front of the procession; then, facing about, deftly turned the whole flock through the gate into a large field. Through this pasture, with the skill of a military leader, he marshaled his troop, rushing backwards and forwards, allowing none to fall behind nor to stray away from the proper path, finally bringing them up in a compact body to another opening in the opposite end of the field. On he went, driving his small battalion along the road, then at right angles into another road, until the whole flock of sheep and the little black dog who commanded them disappeared for the night among the out-buildings of a far distant farm. The twilight had almost gone, and in the growing darkness we retraced our steps to the village, well content that, through communion with the Spirit of Wordsworth in the presence of that "mighty Being" who to him was the great Teacher and Inspirer of mankind, our own love of nature had been reawakened, and our time well spent on this peaceful, never-to-be-forgotten day at Windermere. FOOTNOTE: [1] Grass. IV FROM HAWTHORNDEN TO ROSLIN GLEN IV FROM HAWTHORNDEN TO ROSLIN GLEN "Roslin's towers and braes are bonnie-- Craigs and water! woods and glen! Roslin's banks! unpeered by ony, Save the Muse's Hawthornden." The vale of the Esk is unrivaled, even in Scotland, for beauty and romantic interest. From its source to where it enters the Firth of Forth, the little river winds its way past ancient castles with their romantic legends, famed in poetry and song, and the picturesque homes of barons and lairds, poets and philosophers, forming as it goes, with rocks and cliffs, tall trees and overhanging vines, a bewildering succession of beautiful scenes. It was to this charming valley that Walter Scott came, with his young wife, in the first year of their wedded life. A young man of imaginative and romantic temperament, though as yet unknown to fame, he found the place an inspiration and delight. A pretty little cottage, with thatched roof, and a garden commanding a beautiful view, made the home where many happy summers were spent. This was at Lasswade, a village which took its striking name from the fact--let us hope it was a fact--that here a sturdy lass was wont to wade the stream, carrying travelers on her back,--a ferry service sufficiently romantic to make up for its uncertainty. Lockhart tells us that "it was amidst these delicious solitudes" that Walter Scott "laid the imperishable foundation of all his fame. It was here that when his warm heart was beating with young and happy love, and his whole mind and spirit were nerved by new motives for exertion--it was here that in the ripened glow of manhood he seems to have first felt something of his real strength, and poured himself out in those splendid original ballads which were at once to fix his name." "Sweet are the paths, O passing sweet! By Esk's fair streams that run, O'er airy steep through copsewood deep, Impervious to the sun. * * * * * Who knows not Melville's beechy grove And Roslin's rocky glen, Dalkeith, which all the virtues love, And classic Hawthornden?" [Illustration: HAWTHORNDEN] The visitor who would see "Roslin's rocky glen" may take a coach in Edinburgh and soon reach the spot after a pleasant drive over a well-kept road. But if he would see "classic Hawthornden" in the same day, he must go there first. For the gate which separates the two opens out from Hawthornden and the traveler cannot pass in the opposite direction. We therefore took the train from Edinburgh, and after half an hour alighted at a little station, from which we walked a few hundred yards along a quiet country road, until we reached a lodge marking the entrance to a large estate. Entering here, a few steps brought us to the house of the gardener, who first conducted us to the place that interests him the most--a large and well-kept garden, full of fruits and vegetables, beautiful flowers and well-trained vines. His pride satisfied by our sincere admiration of his handiwork, our guide was ready to reveal to us the glory of Hawthornden, and conducted us to the edge of a precipice known as John Knox's Pulpit. In front is a deep ravine of stupendous rocks partly bare and partly covered with bushes and pendent creepers. The tall trees on the border, the wooded hill in the distance, and the grand sweep of the river far below, form a scene of majestic grandeur as nearly perfect as one could wish. To the left, on the very edge of a perpendicular rock, is a strong, well-built mansion, so situated that the windows of its principal rooms command a view of the wondrous vale. On the other side of the house are the ivy-covered ruins of an older castle, dating back many centuries. Since the middle of the sixteenth century, Hawthornden has been the home of a family of Drummonds--a famous Scottish name. William Drummond, the most distinguished of them all, whose name is inseparably associated with the place, was born in 1585. His father was a gentleman-usher at the court of King James VI, and through his association with the Scottish royalty had acquired the Hawthornden property. The boy grew up amid such surroundings, was educated at the University of Edinburgh, and traveled on the Continent for three years before settling down to his life-work, which he then thought would be the practice of law. But scarcely had he returned to Edinburgh for this purpose, when his father died, and young Drummond, at the age of twenty-four, found himself master of Hawthornden with ample means at his command. All thought of the law was abandoned forthwith. The quiet of Hawthornden and the beauty of its natural scenery fitted his temperament exactly. He had already acquired a scholar's tastes, had read extensively, and possessed a large library in which the Latin classics predominated, though there were many books in Greek, Hebrew, Italian, Spanish, French, and English. He retired to his delightful home to live among his books, and if he found that such surroundings became a tacit invitation from the Muses to keep them company, who could wonder? "Content with my books and the use of my eyes," he said, "I learnt even from my boyhood to live beneath my fortune; and, dwelling by myself as much as I can, I neither sigh for nor seek aught that is outside me." It has been said that Drummond's three stars were Philosophy, Friendship, and Love. Some three or four years after the poet began his contented life at Hawthornden, the latter star began to shine so brightly as to eclipse the other two. In 1614 he met an attractive girl of seventeen or eighteen, the daughter of Alexander Cunningham, of Barns, a country-seat on a little stream known as the Ore, in Fifeshire, on the opposite side of the Firth of Forth. His poems began at once to reveal the extent to which the loveliness of the fair Euphame had taken possession of him:-- "Vaunt not, fair Heavens, of your two glorious lights, Which, though most bright, yet see not when they shine, And shining cannot show their beams divine Both in one place, but part by days and nights; Earth, vaunt not of those treasures ye enshrine, Held only dear because hid from our sights, Your pure and burnished gold your diamonds fine, Snow-passing ivory that the eye delights; Nor, Seas, of those dear wares are in you found; Vaunt not rich pearl, red coral, which do stir A fond desire in fools to plunge your ground. Those all more fair are to be had in her: Pearl, ivory, coral, diamond, suns, gold, Teeth, neck, lips, heart, eyes, hair, are to behold." On seeing her in a boat on the Forth he declared her perfection:-- "Slide soft, fair Forth, and make a crystal plain; Cut your white locks, and on your foaming face Let not a wrinkle be, when you embrace The boat that earth's perfections doth contain." The river Ore, on the banks of which he first met his lady-love, became to Drummond the greatest river in the world. In one sonnet he compares the tiny stream with every famous river from the Arno to the Nile; and finds that none of them "Have ever had so rare a cause of praise." Unfortunately, his happiness was of brief duration, for on the very eve of the marriage, the young lady died. Drummond's grief was intense. One can almost imagine him mournfully gazing down the beautiful glen, which she might have enjoyed with him, and exclaiming-- "Trees, happier far than I, That have the grace to heave your heads so high, And overlook those plains; Grow till your branches kiss that lofty sky Which her sweet self contains. Then make her know my endless love and pains And how those tears, which from mine eyes do fall Helpt you to rise so tall. Tell her, as once I for her sake loved breath So, for her sake, I now court lingering death." [Illustration: THE SYCAMORE] For some years after her death, Euphame was to Drummond what Beatrice was to Dante--the inspirer of all that was good in him. Later in life he married Elizabeth Logan, a lady who was said to resemble Euphame Cunningham, and she became the mother of his five sons and four daughters. In front of the mansion of Hawthornden is a venerable sycamore, said to be five hundred years old. In the month of January, 1619, according to a favorite and oft-told story, Drummond was sitting beneath this tree, when he saw and recognized the huge form of Ben Jonson, as that rollicking hero sauntered toward him along the private road. Jonson had walked all the way from London to see what could be seen in Scotland, and one of the attractions had been an invitation from Drummond, who was now beginning to be known in England, to spend two or three weeks at his home. As he approached, Drummond arose and greeted him heartily, saying,-- "Welcome, welcome, royal Ben!" To which Jonson quickly replied replied-- "Thankee, thankee, Hawthornden!" Upon which they both laughed and felt well acquainted at once. The contrast between these two men, as they stood under the old sycamore, must have been strongly marked. Drummond, quiet, reserved, and gentle in manner--Jonson, boisterous and offensively vulgar: Drummond, well dressed and refined in appearance--Jonson, fat, coarse, and slovenly; Drummond, a country gentleman, accustomed to live well, but always within his means, caring little for society, a man of correct habits and strict piety, and later in life a loving husband and a tender father--Jonson, the dictator of literary London, who waved his scepter in the "Devil Tavern" in Fleet Street, egotistical and quarrelsome, self-assertive, a bully in disposition, his life a perpetual round of dissipation and debt, his means of livelihood dependent on luck or favor, and his greatest enjoyment centering in association with those who, like himself, were most at home in the theaters and taverns of the great bustling city. Yet both were poets and men of genius, though in different ways. In spite of his peculiarities, Drummond found "rare Ben Jonson" a most interesting companion. He kept a close record of the conversations which passed between them, and might well be called the father of modern interviewing. But unlike the interviewer of to-day, Drummond did not rush to the nearest telegraph station to get his story "on the wire" and "scoop" his contemporaries. There were no telegraphs nor newspapers to call for such effort, and Drummond had too much respect for the courtesy due a guest to think of publishing their private talks. But a portion of the material was published in 1711, long after Drummond's death, and probably the whole of it in 1832. These conversations with one who knew intimately most of the literary leaders of his time have proved invaluable. They contain Ben's opinions of nearly everybody--Queen Elizabeth, the Earl of Leicester, King James, Spenser, Raleigh, Shakespeare, Bacon, Drayton, Beaumont, Chapman, Fletcher, and many other contemporaries. Most of all they contain his opinion of himself and his writings, which needless to say is quite exalted. With no thought of his notes being published, Drummond allowed himself perfect frankness in writing about his guest. His summary of the impression made by Ben's visit is as follows:-- He is a great lover and praiser of himself; a contemner and scorner of others; given rather to lose a friend than a jest; jealous of every word and action of those about him (especially after drink, which is one of the elements in which he liveth); a dissembler of ill parts which reign in him, a bragger of some good that he wanteth; thinketh nothing well but what either he himself or some of his friends and countrymen hath said or done: he is passionately kind and angry; careless either to gain or keep; vindictive, but, if he be well answered, at himself. For any religion, as being versed in both. Interpreted best sayings and deeds often to the worst. Oppressed with phantasy which hath ever mastered his reason, a general disease in many poets.... He was in his personal character the very reverse of Shakespeare, as surly, ill-natured, proud and disagreeable as Shakespeare, with ten times his merit, was gentle, good-natured, easy, and amiable. Jonson expressed with equal frankness his opinion of Drummond, to whom he said that he "was too good and simple, and that oft a man's modesty made a fool of his wit." Drummond as a poet was classed by Robert Southey and Thomas Campbell in the highest rank of the British poets who appeared before Milton. His sonnets, which are remarkable for their exquisite delicacy and tenderness, won for him the title of "the Scottish Petrarch." It has been said that they come as near to perfection as any others of this kind of writing and that as a sonneteer Drummond is surpassed only by Shakespeare, Milton, and Wordsworth among the poets who have written in English. Before taking leave of the Scottish poet and his picturesque home, we paused for a few minutes to visit the wondrous caverns, cut out of the solid rock upon which the house is built. Antiquarians have insisted that these caves date back to the time of the Picts, at least as far as the ninth or tenth century. This, too, was the popular understanding before the scientists offered their opinion. In a curious old volume, published in 1753,[2] we are told:-- Underneath [the house of Drummond] are the noted Caverns of _Hawthorn-Den_, by Dr. _Stuckely_ in his _Itinerarium-Curiosa_, said to have been the King of _Pictlands_ Castle or Palace; which nothing can shew the Doctor's Credulity more than by suffering himself to be imposed upon by the Tattle of the Vulgar, who in all things they cannot account for, are ascribed to the _Picts_, without the least Foundation. For those caves, instead of having been a Castle or Palace, I take them either to have been a Receptacle for Robbers, or Places to secure the People and their Effects in, during the destructive Wars between the _Picts_ and _English_, and _Scots_ and _English_. During the contests between Bruce and Baliol for the Scottish crown, these caves became a place of refuge for Bruce and his friends, and one of the rooms is still pointed out as Bruce's bedchamber. "Here, too, are labyrinthine paths To caverns dark and low, Wherein they say King Robert Bruce Found refuge from his foe." In the walls are many square holes, from twelve to eighteen inches deep, supposed to have been used as cupboards. On a rough table near one of the openings is a rude and very much damaged desk, said to have been the property of John Knox. Leaving these gloomy resorts of ancient heroes--perhaps of ancient robbers--we sought a brighter and more cheerful scene. Descending the path we reached a bridge over the Esk on which is a gate that permitted us to leave Hawthornden, although it does not allow wanderers on the other side to enter. The bridge gave a fine opportunity for a farewell view of the grand old mansion, high in the air at the top of the cliff, which we were now viewing from below. A delightful stroll along the left bank of the stream for about two miles brought us to Roslin Castle, situated on a rocky promontory high above the river. At the point of the peninsula the river is narrowed by a large mass of reddish sandstone over which it falls. When flooded this becomes a beautiful cascade,--whence the name, "Ross," a Gaelic word meaning promontory or jutting rock, and "Lyn," a waterfall,--the "Rock of the Waterfall." The Esk, where it forms the cascade, is still called "the Lynn." The view from the promontory is one of the most delightful to be imagined. The banks are precipitous and covered with a luxurious growth of natural wood. The vale seems to be crowded with every possible combination of trees and cliffs, foliage and sparkling stream, that nature can put together to form a region of romantic suggestion. [Illustration: RUINS OF ROSLIN CASTLE] Little now remains of the ancient castle of Roslin, which was formerly two hundred feet long and ninety feet wide. A few ivy-covered walls and towers may still be seen, in the midst of which is a more modern dwelling rebuilt in 1653. The ancient foundation walls, nine feet thick, still visible below the surface, and the almost inaccessible location of the castle tell the story of its original purpose. A huge kitchen, with the fireplace alone occupying as much space as the entire kitchen of one of our modern houses, suggests the lavish scale upon which the establishment was once conducted. The castle was built by a family of St. Clairs, whose ancestor, Waldernus de St. Clair, came over with the Conqueror. William St. Clair, Baron of Roslin, Earl of Caithness and Prince of the Orkneys, who flourished in the middle of the fifteenth century, was one of the most famous of these barons. He lived in the magnificence of royal state. He kept a great court and was royally served at his own table in vessels of gold and silver.... He had his halls and other apartments richly adorned with embroidered hangings. His princess, Elizabeth Douglas, was served by seventy-five gentlewomen, whereof fifty-three were daughters of noblemen, all clothed in velvet and silks, with their chains of gold, and other ornaments; and was attended by two hundred riding gentlemen in all her journeys; and if it happened to be dark when she went to Edinburgh, where her lodgings were at the foot of the Black Friar's Wynd, eighty lighted torches were carried before her.[3] The castle was accidentally set on fire in 1447 and badly damaged, and was leveled to the ground by English forces under the Earl of Hertford, in 1544, who was sent to Scotland by Henry VIII to seek to enforce the marriage of his son Edward to the infant Mary of Scotland, the daughter of James V. In 1650 it was again destroyed, during Cromwell's campaign in Scotland, by General Monk, and rising again, suffered severely at the hands of a mob from Edinburgh in 1688. It was William St. Clair, the feudal baron above referred to, who built the exquisitely beautiful chapel which stands not far from the castle. The same ancient manuscript, previously quoted, informs us that His age creeping on him made him consider how he had spent his time past, and how to spend that which was to come. Therefore to the end he might not seem altogether unthankfull to God for the benefices receaved from Him, it came in his minde to build a house for God's service of most curious work, the which, that it might be done with greater glory and splendour he caused artificers to be brought from other regions and forraigne kingdoms and caused dayly to be abundance of all kinde of workemen present, etc., etc. The foundation of Roslin Chapel was laid in 1446. It was originally intended to be a cruciform structure with a high central tower. The existing chapel is, therefore, really only a small part of what the church was meant to be. Its style is called "florid Gothic," but this is probably for want of a better name. There is no other piece of architecture like it in the world. It is a medley of all architectures, the Egyptian, Grecian, Roman, and Saracenic being intermingled with all kinds of decorations and designs, some exquisitely beautiful and others quaint and even grotesque. There are thirteen different varieties of the arch. The owner, who possessed great wealth, desired novelty. He secured it by engaging architects and builders from all parts of Europe. The most beautiful feature of the interior is known as the "'Prentice's Pillar." It is a column with richly carved spiral wreaths of beautiful foliage twined about from floor to ceiling. It is said that the master-builder, when he came to erect this column, found himself unable to carry out the design, and traveled to Rome to see a column of similar description there. When he returned he found that his apprentice had studied the plans in his absence and with greater genius than his own, had overcome the difficulties and fashioned a pillar more beautiful than any ever before dreamed of. The master, stung with jealous rage, struck the apprentice with his mallet, killing him instantly. This, at least, is the accepted legend. The barons of Roslin were buried beneath the chapel side by side, encased in their full suits of armor. There was a curious superstition that when one of the family died, the chapel was enveloped in flames, but not consumed. This and the "uncoffined chiefs" are referred to by Scott in "The Lay of the Last Minstrel." The lady is lost in the storm while crossing the Firth on her way to Roslin:-- "O'er Roslin all that dreary night A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam; 'Twas broader than the watch-fire light, And redder than the bright moonbeam. "It glared on Roslin's castled rock, It ruddied all the copsewood glen; 'Twas seen from Dreyden's groves of oak, And seen from caverned Hawthornden. "Seemed all on fire that chapel proud Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffined lie, Each baron, for a sable shroud, Sheathed in his iron panoply. "Seemed all on fire within, around, Deep sacristy and altar's pale; Shone every pillar foliage-bound, And glimmered all the dead men's mail. "Blazed battlement and pinnet high, Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair-- So still they blaze when fate is nigh The lordly line of high St. Clair. "There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold Lie buried within that proud chapelle; Each one the holy vault doth hold-- But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle." Commemorated by a tablet in the chapel is another interesting legend. Robert Bruce, King of Scotland, in following the chase on Pentland Hills near Roslin, had often started "a white faunch deer" which invariably escaped from his hounds. In his vexation he asked his nobles whether any of them had hounds which would likely be more successful. All hesitated for fear that the mere suggestion of possessing dogs superior to those of the king might be an offense. But Sir William St. Clair (one of the predecessors of the builder of the chapel) boldly and unceremoniously came forward and said he would wager his head that his two favorite dogs Hold and Help would kill the deer before it could cross the March burn. The king promptly accepted the rash wager, and betted the forest of Pentland Moor. The hunters reach the heathern steeps and Sir William, posting himself in the best situation for slipping his dogs, prayed devoutly to Christ, the Virgin Mary, and St. Katherine. The deer is started, the hounds are slipped; when Sir William spurs his gallant steed and cheers the dogs. The deer reaches the middle of the March-burn brook, the hounds are still in the rear, and our hero's life is at its crisis. An awful moment; the hunter threw himself from his horse in despair and Fate seemed to sport with his feelings. At the critical moment Hold fastened on the game, and Help coming up, turned the deer back and killed it close by Sir William's side. The generous monarch embraced the knight and bestowed on him the lands of Kirktown, Logan House, Earnsham, etc., in free forestrie.[4] The grateful Sir William erected a chapel to St. Katherine, at the spot, to commemorate the saint's intervention. One more tale of Roslin remains to be told. Not far away, on Roslin Moor, occurred one of the famous battles of Scottish history. There were really three battles, all fought in one day, the 24th of February, 1303. Three divisions of the English army, consisting of thirty thousand men, were successively attacked by the valiant Scots with only ten thousand men, who, after overpowering the first division, attacked the second, and then the third, defeating all three in the same day. And so, with history and legend, poetry and romance, real life and fiction, the glory of nature's art and the achievements of human handicraft all happily intermingled in our thought and blended into one pleasant memory, we brought to its close our walk through the valley of the Esk, from Hawthornden to Roslin Glen. FOOTNOTES: [2] Maitland's _History of Scotland_. [3] From an old manuscript, in the Advocates' Library, collection of Richard Augustine Hay. [4] Britton's _Architectural Antiquities_. V THE COUNTRY OF MRS. HUMPHRY WARD V THE COUNTRY OF MRS. HUMPHRY WARD I MRS. WARD AND HER WORK "'Why does any one stay in England who _can_ make the trip to Paradise?' said the duchess, as she leaned lazily back in the corner of the boat and trailed her fingers in the waters of Como." These words from "Lady Rose's Daughter" came to mind as we glided swiftly in a little motor-boat, late in the afternoon of a perfect April day, over the smooth waters of Como and into the arm of the lake known as Lecco, where we were to enjoy our cup of tea in a little _latteria_ high up on a rocky crag. In the stern sat Mrs. Ward, looking the picture of contentment, a light summer hat with simple trimmings giving an almost girlish aspect to a face in which strong intellectuality and depth of moral purpose were clearly the predominating features. A day's work done,--for Mrs. Ward goes to Como for work, not play,--this little trip across the lake was one of her favorite recreations, in which, for the time, we were hospitably permitted to share. About us were the scenes "enchanted, incomparable," which are best described in the words of Mrs. Ward herself:-- When Spring descends upon the shores of the Lago di Como, she brings with her all the graces, all the beauties, all the fine, delicate, and temperate delights of which earth and sky are capable, and she pours them forth upon a land of perfect loveliness. Around the shores of other lakes--Maggiore, Lugano, Garda--blue mountains rise and the vineyards spread their green and dazzling terraces to the sun. Only Como can show in unmatched union a main composition, incomparably grand and harmonious, combined with every jeweled or glowing or exquisite detail. Nowhere do the mountains lean towards each other in such an ordered splendor as that which bends around the northern shores of Como. Nowhere do buttressed masses rise behind each other, to right and left of a blue waterway, in lines statelier or more noble than those kept by the mountains of Lecco Lake as they marshal themselves on either hand, along the approaches to Lombardy and Venetia. [Illustration: MRS. HUMPHRY WARD AND MISS DOROTHY WARD] ... And within this divine framework, between the glistening snows which still, in April, crown and glorify the heights, and those reflections of them which lie encalmed in the deep bosom of the lake, there's not a foot of pasture, not a shelf of vineyard, not a slope of forest, where the spring is not at work, dyeing the turf with gentians, starring it with narcissuses, or drawing across it the first golden network of the chestnut leaves; where the mere emerald of the grass is not in itself a thing to refresh the very springs of being; where the peach-blossom and the wild cherry and the olive are not perpetually weaving patterns on the blue which ravish the very heart out of your breast. And already the roses are beginning to pour over the wall; the wistaria is climbing up the cypresses; a pomp of camellias and azaleas is in all the gardens; while in the glassy bays that run up into the hills the primrose banks still keep their sweet austerity, and the triumph of spring over the just banished winter is still sharp and new. It was in a garden such as this, with a wild cherry tree and olives "perpetually weaving patterns" against the blue sky, that we first met Mrs. Ward. It was a balmy April morning. The scent of spring was in the air, and the birds were adding their melody to the beauty of the landscape. The villa stands well up the slope of a high hill and is reached by a winding path through fragrant trees. A little below the level of the house is a shady nook, well sheltered from the sun, from which the high mountains of the north and the blue glimmer of the lake beneath can be plainly seen. Here we were greeted by the novelist in terms of cordiality that instantly made us "feel at home." There was no posing, none of that condescension which some writers had led us to expect. We were simply welcomed as friends, with a perfect hospitality that seemed to be born of the tranquil beauty all about us. Mrs. Ward is a woman of rather more than medium height and of erect and graceful carriage. Her manner is dignified, but it is the dignity of one properly conscious of her own strength and is never repellent. One cannot help feeling that he is in the presence of a distinguished person--one who has justly earned a world-wide fame--and yet one in whom the attributes of true womanliness reign supreme. You are proud of the honor of her friendship, and yet you cannot help thinking what an excellent neighbor she would be. The instinct which impels Mrs. Ward to seek such scenes of beauty as Lake Como in which to do her writing came to her naturally, for her childhood was spent in one of the most beautiful parts of all England, Westmoreland, the home of Wordsworth and of Ruskin. Here "Arnold of Rugby" made his home in a charmingly situated cottage known as Fox How. "Fox," in the language of Westmoreland, means "fairy," and "how" is "hill." A "fairy hill" indeed it must have seemed to Dr. Arnold's little granddaughter Mary, when as a child of five she was brought there by her father from far-away Tasmania, where she was born. The English Lakes are famous for their beauty, but there is no more delightful spot in all the region than the valley "under Loughrigg," and no lovelier river than the Rothay, rippling over the smooth pebbles from Wordsworth's beloved Rydal Water down to the more pretentious grandeur of Lake Windermere. The impressions of her childhood created in the future novelist an intense love of these streams and mountains, which only increased with her absence and the enlargement of her field of vision. When she was the mother of a little girl of seven and a boy of four, she determined to give to them the same impressions which had delighted her own childhood, and the family made an ever-memorable visit from Oxford, where they were then living, to the vicinity of Fox How--a visit which all children may enjoy who will read the pretty little story of "Milly and Olly." Mary Augusta Arnold was born in Tasmania on the 11th of June, 1851. Her father, Thomas Arnold, second son of Dr. Arnold of Rugby and brother of Matthew Arnold, was at that time Inspector of Schools in the far-away island. He had married the granddaughter of Colonel Sorell, a former Governor of Tasmania, and no doubt intended to remain there permanently. But, becoming interested, even at that distance, in the so-called "Oxford Movement" of the middle of the last century, he determined to return to England, where he followed Newman and others into the Roman Catholic Church, accepting a professorship of English Literature in the Catholic University of Dublin. His daughter Mary, the eldest of six, was sent to Ambleside to be educated. In 1865, having renounced the Catholic faith, Mr. Arnold took up his residence at Oxford. Here his eldest daughter, at the age of fourteen, came under the influence of the friendships and associations which were to have so potent an influence upon her future career. The most important of these were Professor Mark Pattison and the Bodleian Library. Professor Pattison strongly urged her to specialize her studies, and acting upon his suggestion, she learned the Spanish language and began a course of study in Spanish literature and history, in which she found the facilities of the Bodleian Library invaluable. In 1872 she became the wife of Mr. Thomas Humphry Ward, then a fellow and tutor in Brasenose College. During the ensuing ten or eleven years Mrs. Ward assisted her husband in his literary work and contributed largely to the "Pall Mall Gazette," the "Saturday Review," the "Academy," and other magazines, besides publishing the little book for children already referred to, "Milly and Olly." [Illustration: "UNDER LOUGHRIGG"] In 1881 Mr. Ward accepted a position on the staff of the "Times," and the family removed to London. For several years they occupied a house in Russell Square, which Mrs. Ward still regards with fond memories, later removing to their present town house, No. 25 Grosvenor Place. But Mrs. Ward's love of nature is too intense for an uninterrupted residence in London, and she possesses an ideal country home some thirty miles away, near the little village of Aldbury, known as "Stocks." This large and beautiful estate is ancient enough to be mentioned in "Domesday Book." Its name does not come from the old "stocks" used as an instrument of punishment, which may still be seen in the village, although this is a common supposition. "Stocks" is derived from the German "stock," meaning stick or tree, and refers to the magnificent grove by which the house is surrounded. Before Stocks became a possibility, Mrs. Ward usually managed to choose a summer home in the country, and these choices are most interestingly reflected in her novels. During the Oxford residence Surrey was a favorite resort for seven years, its atmosphere entering largely into the composition of "Miss Bretherton" and "Robert Elsmere." Two nights spent at a farm on the Kinderscout gave ample material for the opening chapter of the "History of David Grieve." The lease for a season of Hampden House, in Buckinghamshire, gave the original for Mellor Park in "Marcella," and a visit near Crewe fixed the scenes of "Sir George Tressady." "Helbeck of Bannisdale" was the result of a summer spent in the delightful home of Captain Bagot, of Levens Hall, near Kendal. Summers in Italy and Switzerland gave most charming scenery for "Lady Rose's Daughter" and "Eleanor," and, to a less degree, "The Marriage of William Ashe." The cottage of her youngest daughter, Dorothy, near the Langdale Pikes, suggested the home of Fenwick, while Diana Mallory found her home in Stocks itself. Thus the creatures of Mrs. Ward's fancy have simply lived in the places which she knew the best. They are all scenes of beauty, for Mrs. Ward loves the beautiful in nature, and has spent her life where this yearning could be most fully gratified. But if Mrs. Ward seeks the country as the best place for literary work, she is not idle when in the city. If any one imagines her to be merely a society woman with a genius for literature, he is making a serious mistake. Outside of society and literature she is a busy woman, bent on the accomplishment of a task which few would have the courage to assume. Her ideal is best expressed in the closing words of "Robert Elsmere":-- The New Brotherhood still exists, and grows. There are many who imagined that, as it had been raised out of the earth by Elsmere's genius, so it would sink with him. Not so! He would have fought the struggle to victory with surpassing force, with a brilliancy and rapidity none after him could rival. But the struggle was not his. His effort was but a fraction of the effort of the race. In that effort, and in the Divine force behind it, is our trust, as was his. These words, written nearly a quarter of a century ago, were truly prophetic. For Mrs. Ward not only possesses the kind of genius from which an Elsmere could be created, but is gifted with a rare capacity for business, which has enabled her to crystallize the ideals of her work of fiction into a substantial and permanent institution for practical benevolence. She was already interested in "settlement" work among the poor of London during the writing of the novel. But in 1891, after the storm of criticism which the book aroused had subsided, its suggestions began to take definite shape in the organization of the Passmore Edwards Settlement, in University Hall, in Gordon Square. In 1898 the work was moved to its present quarters in Tavistock Place, where, under the leadership of Mrs. Ward and through the generosity of herself and the friends whom she had been able to influence, a large and substantial building was erected. Directly in the rear of the building is a large garden owned by the Duke of Bedford, who recently placed it at the disposal of the Settlement, keeping it in order at his own expense, resowing the grass every year to keep it fresh and thick. Here in the vacation season one thousand children daily enjoy the luxury of sitting and walking on the grass, and that in the heart of central London. The garden occupies the site of Dickens's Tavistock House. One cannot help imagining the author of Little Nell sitting there in spirit while troops of happy London children pass in review. The land here placed entirely at the disposal of Mrs. Ward and the warden of the Settlement is worth not less than half a million dollars. Twenty-seven teachers, under the direction of a competent supervisor, give instruction in organized out-of-door exercises. This was the first of the recreation schools or play centers. Handwork occupations, such as cooking--both for girls and boys--sewing, knitting, basket-work, carpentering, cobbling, clay modeling, painting and drawing; dancing combined with old English songs and nursery rhymes; musical drill and gymnastics; quiet games and singing games; acting; and a children's library of story-books and picture-books--these are the provisions which have been made for the fortunate children of that locality. [Illustration: THE PASSMORE EDWARDS SETTLEMENT HOUSE] The entire purpose of such play centers is to rescue the children of the poor from the demoralization that results from being turned out to play after school hours in the streets and alleyways, where they are subjected to every kind of vile association and influence. The effects already noted by those in charge of the centers are improvement in manners, in thoughtfulness for the little ones, and in unselfishness; increase in regard for truth and honesty; the development of the instinct in all children to "make something"; the teaching that it is more enjoyable to play together in harmony than when obedience to a leader is refused. The success of this first experiment was so marked that gradually other centers were started in different parts of London. Liberal sums of money were placed in the hands of Mrs. Ward, who enlisted the support of the County Council to the extent of securing facilities in the public school buildings. The work has so far progressed that the total attendance last year[5] reached an aggregate of six hundred thousand. It is difficult to estimate from these figures how many children were affected, but, taking--at a guess--fifty times as the average attendance of each, this would mean that the lives of at least twelve thousand poor children were directly lifted up by this practical charity, and that as many more hard-working and anxious parents were indirectly benefited. But Mrs. Ward will not be satisfied until the entire school population of London has been made to feel the influence of these play centers. Private beneficence, as she has plainly pointed out, can never solve the problem. "Private effort," said she in a well-known letter to the London "Times," "cannot deal with seven hundred and fifty thousand children, or even with three hundred thousand. If there is a serious and urgent need, if both the physique and the morale of our town children are largely at stake, and if private persons can only touch a fraction of the problem, what remains but to appeal to the public conscience?" This is Mrs. Ward's way of "doing things." She does not appeal to public authority to accomplish an ideal without first finding a way and proving that it can be done. But, having clearly demonstrated her proposition at private expense, she does not rest content with the results so obtained, but pushes steadily forward toward the larger ideal, which can be realized only through public support. But the recreation school is only a part of the work of the Passmore Edwards Settlement. During the daytime many of the rooms are used by the "Cripple Schools." Children who are suffering from spinal diseases, heart trouble, and deformities of various kinds which prevent attendance at the regular schools are daily brought to the Settlement in ambulances. Here the little ones do all kinds of kindergarten work, while the older ones are instructed in drawing, sewing, bent-iron work, and other suitable tasks. As an outgrowth of this school twenty-three cripple schools are now in operation in London. But it is in the evening that the Passmore Edwards Settlement is seen to best advantage. There is a large library containing some three thousand volumes, which are kept in active use. On Monday nights two tables in this room are the centers of busy groups. These represent the "coal club," a businesslike charity of a very practical kind. The club buys a large quantity of coal in the summer-time, when it can be obtained cheapest. As a large consumer, it usually gets every possible concession. The members of this club can buy the coal in small quantities as wanted, or as they are able to pay for it, at any time during the year, at the summer price of one shilling one and a half pence per hundred weight (twenty-seven cents). If bought during the winter in the ordinary way, they would have to pay perhaps five or six pence more--a very substantial saving. Thrift is encouraged by allowing members to deposit small sums in the summer to apply against their winter purchases. Last year the club transacted a business equal to about $4300. "The Poor Man's Lawyer" is another practical part of the work. Once each week free legal advice is given to all who ask it, and considerable money has been saved to people who, from ignorance and poverty, might have been imposed upon. The "Men's Club," the "Boys' Club," the "Factory Girls' Club," and the "Women's Club" are all actively engaged in performing the usual functions of such organizations. There is a gymnasium where boys and girls, men and women, all have their regular turns of systematic instruction. An orchestra of a dozen pieces and a choral society of forty members, together with a dramatic society, give opportunity for many to take part in numerous concerts and entertainments. A large hall is the scene nearly every night of some kind of social amusement. The room is decorated with many pictures, all reproductions of the best works of art, while around the walls are placed busts in marble of Emerson, James Martineau, Dickens, Matthew Arnold, Benjamin Jowett, and Sir William Herschel--the gift of Mr. Passmore Edwards. There is a large stage for dramatic performances, drills, etc., with a piano and a good organ. There are tables where the members may play cards, smoke, or have light refreshments. On Sunday nights there are concerts or lectures. The whole atmosphere of the place is attractive to the men and women who frequent it. There is no obtrusive piety, no patronizing air, nothing to offend the pride of the poor man who values his self-esteem, yet all the influences of the place are elevating. The whole spirit of the Settlement is expressed in these words, displayed in a framed notice at the entrance to the social hall:-- We believe that many changes in the conditions of life and labour are needed, and are coming to pass; but we believe also that men, without any change except in themselves and in their feelings towards one another, might make this world a better and a happier place. Therefore, with the same sympathies but different experiences of life, we meet to exchange ideas and to discuss social questions, in the hope that, as we learn to know one another better, a feeling of fellowship may arise among us. To these ends we have a Library, Clubs, Lectures, Classes, Entertainments, etc., and we endeavour to make the Settlement a centre where we may unite our several resources in a social and intellectual home. In all this work Mrs. Humphry Ward is the inspiration, and a moving, active spirit. Her name stands next to that of the wealthy Duke of Bedford as the most liberal contributor. She is the Honorable Secretary of the Council, a member of the Finance Committee, president of the Women's Club, etc. But these are only her official positions. Her directing hand is manifest in every branch of the work, and, from the warden down to the humblest member of the Girls' Club, her name is accorded a respect amounting almost to reverence. But, as with the play centers, Mrs. Ward is not content with the work of this one institution, splendid as it is. To her it is only the means of ascertaining the way. She feels that she is dealing with a great problem, and her method is to ascertain, first of all, the best solution, and then to use her large influence to induce others to take up the work. Thus the "New Brotherhood" of Robert Elsmere has not only continued to exist for a quarter of a century, but has in it the elements of growth which will make it a vital power in human society long after the real Robert Elsmere, in the person of Mrs. Ward, has ceased to be the directing force. II THE REAL ROBERT ELSMERE In seeking to point out the real persons and places of Mrs. Ward's novels, it is only fair to the author to begin with her own statement as to the story-teller's method of procedure:-- An idea, a situation, is suggested to him by real life, he takes traits and peculiarities from this or that person whom he has known or seen, but that is all. When he comes to write ... the mere necessities of an imaginative effort oblige him to cut himself adrift from reality. His characters become to him the creatures of a dream, as vivid often as his waking life, but still a dream. And the only portraits he is drawing are portraits of phantoms, of which the germs were present in reality, but to which he himself has given voice, garb, and action. [Illustration: THE LIME WALK] It is my purpose to point out some of these "germs of reality" in Mrs. Ward's work, relying for the essential facts, at least, upon information given me personally by the novelist herself. For Mrs. Ward does not hesitate to admit that certain characters were drawn from real life; but she insists upon a proper understanding of the exact sense in which this is true. Because "Miss Bretherton" was suggested by the career of Mary Anderson it does not follow that all that is said of the former is true of the latter. There is a vast difference between a "suggestion" and a "portrait." The thoughts and feelings or the personal characteristics of a certain individual may suggest a character who in his physical aspects, his environment, and the events of his career may be conceived as an individual totally different. Mrs. Ward's novels contain no portraits and no history. But they abound in characters suggested by people whom she has known, in incidents and reminiscences of real life, and in vivid word-pictures of scenes which she has learned to love or of places with which she is personally familiar. A study of the scenery of these novels properly begins in the County of Surrey. About four miles southwest of Godalming is Borough Farm, an old-fashioned brick house, which we reached by a drive over country that seemed in places almost like a desert--so wild and forsaken that one could scarcely believe it to be within a few miles of some of the busiest suburbs of London. But it has a splendid beauty of its own. The thick gorse with its golden blossoms everywhere waves a welcome. There are now and then great oaks to greet you, and graceful patches of white birch. And everywhere is a delightfully exhilarating sense of freedom and fresh air such as only this kind of open country can suggest. Here Mrs. Ward lived for seven summers, finding in the country round about some of the most interesting of the scenes of her first novel, "Miss Bretherton," and of "Robert Elsmere." "Miss Bretherton" was published in 1884. Mary Anderson was at that time the reigning success on the London stage, while Sarah Bernhardt, in Paris, was startling the world with an art of a totally different character. The beauty of the young American actress was the one subject of conversation. Was it her beauty that attracted the crowds to the theater, and that alone? Was she totally lacking in that consummate art which the great Frenchwoman admittedly possessed? These questions suggested to Mrs. Ward the theme of her first attempt at fiction. The beautiful Miss Bretherton is taken in hand by a party of friends representing the highest types of culture. In their effort to give her mind and body much-needed rest from the exactions of London society she is carried away on two notable excursions. The first is to Surrey, the real scene of this outing being a place near Borough Farm called "Forked Pond," well known to Mrs. Ward and her family while residents at the farm. The other is to Oxford, where, after admiring the colleges, which brought many happy recollections to the gentlemen of the party, Miss Bretherton is taken to Nuneham Park, a beautiful place on the river where a small rustic bridge enhances the romantic character of the surroundings. This, of course, was familiar ground to the author, who spent sixteen happy years in that vicinity as a resident of Oxford. Through the kindness of these friends, and particularly by the influence of Kendal, who becomes her lover, Miss Bretherton is made to take a new view of her art, and is transformed into an actress of real dramatic power. Although a charming story, "Miss Bretherton" did not prove successful and had little part in making the reputation of the novelist, who is likely to be known as "the author of 'Robert Elsmere,'" so long as her fame shall endure. For this great book created a sensation throughout the English-speaking world when it appeared, and aroused controversies which did not subside for many years. The scenery of "Robert Elsmere" combines the Westmoreland which Mrs. Ward learned to love in her childhood with the Oxford of her girlhood and early married life, and the Surrey where so many pleasant summers were spent. Not wishing, for fear of recognition, to describe the country near Ambleside, with which she was most familiar, Mrs. Ward placed the scenes of the opening chapters in the neighboring valley of Long Sleddale, giving it the name of Long Whindale. Whinborough is the city of Kendal, and the village of Shanmoor is Kentmere. Burwood Farm, where the Leyburns lived, is a house far up the valley, which still "peeps through the trees" at the passer-by just as it did in the days when Robert Elsmere first met the saintly Catherine there. A few hundred yards down the stream is a little stone church across the road from a small stone schoolhouse, and next to the school a gray stone vicarage, standing high above the little river, all three bearing the date 1863. At sight of this group of buildings one almost expects to catch a glimpse of the well-meaning but not over-wise Mrs. Thornburgh, sitting in the shade of the vicarage, awaiting the coming of old John Backhouse, the carrier, with the anxiously expected consignment of "airy and appetizing trifles" from the confectioner's. [Illustration: COTTAGE OF "MARY BACKHOUSE"] At the extreme end of the valley the road abruptly comes to an end. A stone bridge leads off to the left to a group of three small farms. In front no sign of human habitation meets the eye. The hills seem to come together, forming a kind of bowl, and there is no sound to break the stillness save the ripple of the river. It was to this lonely spot that Catherine was in the habit of walking, quite alone, to visit the dying Mary Backhouse. The house of John and Jim Backhouse where Mary died may still be seen. It is the oldest of the three farms above mentioned. A very small cottage, it is wedged between a stable on one side and a sort of barn or storehouse on the other, so that from the road before crossing the bridge it seems to be quite pretentious. The house dates back to 1670. Mary Backhouse never existed except in imagination, but Mrs. Ward, upon seeing the photograph of the house, exclaimed with much satisfaction, "Yes, that is the very house where Mary Backhouse died." So real to her are the events described in her novels that Mrs. Ward frequently refers to the scenes in this way. Behind the house is a very steep hill, covered with trees and rough stones. It was over this hill that Robert and Catherine walked on the night of Mary Backhouse's death. Readers of "Robert Elsmere" will remember that poor Mary was the victim of a strange hallucination. On the night of Midsummer Day, one year before, she had seen the ghost or "bogle" of "Bleacliff Tarn." To see the ghost was terror enough, but to be spoken to by it was the sign of death within a year. And Mary had both seen and been spoken to by the ghost. Her mind, so far as she had one, for she was really half-insane, was concentrated on the one horrible thought--that on Midsummer Night she must die. The night had at last arrived, and Catherine, true to her charitable impulses, was there to comfort the dying girl. The weather was growing darker and stormier; the wind shook the house in gusts, and the farther shoulder of High Fell was almost hidden by the trailing rain-clouds. But Catherine feared nothing when a human soul was in need, and, hoping to pacify the poor woman, volunteered to go out to the top of the Fell and over the very track of the ghost at the precise hour when she was supposed to walk, to prove that there was nothing near "but the dear old hills and the power of God." As she opened the door of the kitchen, Catherine was surprised to find Robert Elsmere there, and together they set out, over the rough, stony path, facing the wind and rain as they climbed the distant fell-side. There Robert pleaded his love against Catherine's stern sense of duty, and won. When Robert and Catherine were married, they went to live at the Rectory of Murewell, in Surrey. This old house is at Peper Harow, three miles west of Godalming and a mile or so from Borough Farm. It was leased for one summer by Mrs. Ward. A plain, square house of stone, much discolored by the weather, it could hardly be called attractive in itself. But stepping back to the road, with its picturesque stone wall surmounted by foliage, and viewing the house as it appears from there, flanked on the left by a fine spreading elm and on the right by a tall, pointed fir and a cluster of oaks, with a little flower garden under the windows and the gracefully curving walk leading past the door in a semicircle stretching from gate to gate, the ugly house is transformed into a home of beauty, where Robert and Catherine, one can well imagine, might have been quite happy and contented with their surroundings. In the rear of the house is the garden, famous for its phloxes, the scene of many walks and family confidences. At the farther end is the gate where Langham poured out the story of his life in passionate speech, impelled by the equally passionate sympathy of Rose, only to recall himself a moment later, "the critic in him making the most bitter, remorseless mock of all these heroics and despairs the other self had been indulging in." Only a short walk from the Rectory is the little church of Peper Harow, the scene of Robert's early clerical labors, and further on is the large and beautiful Peper Harow Park, the present home of Lord Middleton. This attractive park is the original of Squire Wendover's, but the house itself is not described. The fine library owned by the Squire, which so delighted Robert Elsmere with its many rare books, was in reality the famous Bodleian Library of Oxford, with which the author became familiar very early in life. Three characters from real life, each a man of marked individuality, stand out prominently in the pages of "Robert Elsmere." These are Professor Mark Pattison, whose strong personality and scholarly attainments suggested Squire Wendover; Professor Thomas H. Green, the original of Mr. Grey; and the melancholy Swiss philosopher, poet, and dreamer Amiel, who was the prototype of Langham. The theme of the novel is the development of Robert Elsmere's character and the gradual change of his religious views, brought about through many a bitter struggle. In this the principal influence was that of Roger Wendover, a typical English squire of large possessions, but, in addition, a scholar of the first rank, the possessor of a large library filled with rare and important volumes of history, philosophy, science, and religion, with the contents of which he was thoroughly familiar, and an author of two great books, one of which had stirred up a tremendous excitement in the circles of English religious thought. The Pentateuch, the Prophets, the Gospels, St. Paul, Tradition, the Fathers, Protestantism and Justification by Faith, the Eighteenth Century, the Broad Church Movement, Anglican Theology--the Squire had his say about them all. And while the coolness and frankness of the method sent a shock of indignation and horror through the religious public, the subtle and caustic style, and the epigrams with which the book was strewn, forced both the religious and the irreligious public to read, whether they would or no. A storm of controversy rose round the volumes, and some of the keenest observers of English life had said at the time, and maintained since, that the publication of the book had made or marked an epoch. [Illustration: THE RECTORY OF PEPER HAROW] Against the influence of such a book, and more particularly against a growing intimacy with its author, Robert Elsmere felt himself as helpless as a child. The squire's talk "was simply the outpouring of one of the richest, most skeptical, and most highly trained of minds on the subject of Christian origins." His two books were, he said, merely an interlude in his life-work, which had been devoted to an "exhaustive examination of human records" in the preparation of a great History of Testimony which had required learning the Oriental languages and sifting and comparing the entire mass of existing records of classical antiquity--India, Persia, Egypt, and Judea--down to the Renaissance. Reference has already been made to the influence of Professor Mark Pattison upon the early life of Mrs. Ward. To create the Squire she had only to imagine the house in the great park of Peper Harow, equipped with a library like the Bodleian, and inhabited by a person who might be otherwise like any English squire, but in mental equipment a duplicate to some extent of the Rector of Lincoln. Professor Pattison's father was a strict evangelical. He gave his son a good education, and the boy early manifested a delight in literature and learning. He soon developed an independence of character, and, refusing to confine his reading to the prescribed books of orthodoxy, delved into the classics extensively as well as the English literature of Pope, Addison, and Swift. He was graduated at Oxford in 1836, and took his M.A. degree in 1840. By this time he had abandoned the evangelical teachings of his youth, and with other young men came under the influence of Newman, in whose house he went to live. When Newman went into the Roman Catholic Church in 1845, Pattison was not so much shocked as others. Indeed, he confessed that he "might have dropped off to Rome himself in some moment of mental and physical depression or under pressure of some arguing convert." But Pattison, who was now a Fellow at Lincoln College, was thoroughly devoted to his work and was fast gaining a great reputation, not only for his magnetic influence upon young men, but as one of the ablest of college tutors and lecturers. In 1861 he became Rector of Lincoln. He was an indefatigable writer, contributing to many magazines and to the "Encyclopædia Britannica." An article on "Tendencies of Religious Thought in England, 1688-1750" aroused widespread comment. His literary work was marked by evidences of most painstaking research coupled with a profound scholarship and excellent judgment in the arrangement of his material. He devoted a lifetime to the preparation of a history of learning--a stupendous undertaking of which only a portion was ever completed. He possessed a library said to be the largest private collection of his time in Oxford. It numbered fourteen thousand volumes, and was extraordinarily complete in books on the history of learning and philosophy in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries. Of Professor Pattison's personality his biographer says:-- Under a singularly stiff and freezing manner to strangers and to those whom he disliked he concealed a most kindly nature, full of geniality and sympathy and a great love of congenial and especially of female society. But it was in his intercourse with his pupils and generally with those younger than himself that he was seen to most advantage. His conversation was marked by a delicate irony. His words were few and deliberate but pregnant with meaning and above all stimulating, and their effect was heightened by perhaps too frequent and, especially to undergraduates, somewhat embarrassing flashes of silence. All these qualities are continually appearing in the Squire. But Professor Pattison's own definition of a man of learning is the best description of Roger Wendover:-- Learning is a peculiar compound of memory, imagination, scientific habit, accurate observation, all concentrated through a prolonged period on the analysis of the remains of literature. The result of this sustained mental endeavor is not a book, but a man. It cannot be embodied in print; it consists of the living word. The second in importance of the potent influences upon Robert Elsmere's character was that of Henry Grey, a tutor of St. Anselm's (Balliol College), Oxford. Very early in his Oxford career Elsmere was taken to hear a sermon by Mr. Grey, which made a deep impression on his mind. The substance of this sermon, which is briefly summarized in the novel, was taken from a volume of lay sermons by Professor Thomas Hill Green, entitled "The Witness of God." The whole basis of Grey's thought was ardently idealist and Hegelian. He had broken with the popular Christianity, but for him God, consciousness, duty, were the only realities. None of the various forms of materialist thought escaped his challenge; no genuine utterance of the spiritual life of man but was sure of his sympathy. It was known that, after having prepared himself for the Christian ministry, he had remained a layman because it had become impossible to him to accept miracle; and it was evident that the commoner type of Churchmen regarded him as an antagonist all the more dangerous because he was so sympathetic. All of this, like all the other references to Grey throughout the book, applies perfectly to Professor Green. He was the leading exponent at Oxford of the principles of Kant and Hegel, and attracted many followers. His simplicity, power, and earnestness commanded respect. He associated with his pupils on terms of friendly intimacy, frequently taking some of them with him on his vacations. He was a man of singularly lofty character, and those who knew him were reminded of Wordsworth, whom he resembled in some ways. When Elsmere is advised by his friend Newcome to solve all the problems of his doubt by trampling upon himself, flinging away his freedom, and stifling his intellect, these words of Henry Grey flash upon his mind:-- God is not wisely trusted when declared unintelligible. Such honor rooted in dishonor stands; such faith unfaithful makes us falsely true. God is forever reason; and his communication, his revelation, is reason. The words are taken from the same volume of Professor Green's sermons. The death of this dear friend of Robert Elsmere occurred in 1882, and is most touchingly described. An old Quaker aunt was sitting by his bedside:-- She was a beautiful old figure in her white cap and kerchief, and it seemed to please him to lie and look at her. "It'll not be for long, Henry," she said to him once. "I'm seventy-seven this spring. I shall come to thee soon." He made no reply, and his silence seemed to disturb her.... "Thou'rt not doubting the Lord's goodness, Henry?" she said to him, with the tears in her eyes. "No," he said, "no, never. Only it seems to be his will; we should be certain of nothing--_but Himself_! I ask no more." I shall never forget the accent of these words; they were the breath of his inmost life. To understand the third of the three characters from real life in "Robert Elsmere," it is necessary to glance at the story of Henri Frédéric Amiel, a Swiss essayist, philosopher, and dreamer, who was born in 1821 and died in 1881, leaving as a legacy to his friends a "Journal Intime" covering the psychological observations, meditations, and inmost thoughts of thirty years. They represented a prodigious amount of labor, covering some seventeen thousand folio pages of manuscript. This extensive journal was translated into English by Mrs. Ward and published in 1883, five years before the date of "Robert Elsmere." Her long and exhaustive study of the life of this extraordinary man as revealed by himself made a deep impression upon the mind of the novelist--so much so that she could not refrain from introducing him in the person of the morbid Langham. A brief glance at some of the peculiarities of Amiel will prove the best interpretation of Langham, without which the latter must always remain a mystery. Amiel's estimate of the value of his life-work was not a high one. "This Journal of mine," he said, "represents the material of a good many volumes; what prodigious waste of thought, of strength. It will be useful to nobody, and even for myself it has rather helped me to shirk life than to practice it." And again, "Is everything I have produced taken together, my correspondence, these thousands of journal pages, my lectures, my articles, my poems, my notes of different kinds--anything better than withered leaves? To whom and to what have I been useful? Will my name survive me a single day? And will it ever mean anything to anybody? A life of no account! When it is all added up, nothing!" "Amiel," says Mrs. Ward, "might have been saved from despair by love and marriage, by paternity, by strenuous and successful literary production." Family life attracted him perpetually. "I cannot escape from the ideal of it," he said. "A companion of my life, of my work, of my thoughts, of my hopes; within, a common worship--towards the world outside, kindness and beneficence; education to undertake; the thousand and one moral relations which develop around the first--all these ideas intoxicate me sometimes." But in vain. "Reality, the present, the irreparable, the necessary, repel and even terrify me. I have too much imagination, conscience, and penetration, and not enough character. The life of thought alone seems to me to have enough elasticity and immensity to be free enough from the irreparable; practical life makes me afraid. I am distrustful of myself and of happiness because I know myself. The ideal poisons for me all imperfect possession, and I abhor all useless regrets and repentances." Mrs. Ward dramatized this strange individuality in the character of Langham. The love-scene in which Langham wins the hand of the beautiful Rose, followed by the all-night mental struggle in which he finally feels compelled to renounce all that he has gained, is almost tragic in its intensity. Poor Langham, with the prize fairly within his grasp, found that he lacked the courage to retain it. And so the morning after the proposal, instead of the pleasantly anticipated call from her accepted lover, the unfortunate Rose was shocked to receive a pessimistic letter announcing that the engagement had not survived the night. To the casual reader it would seem that such a man as Langham would be impossible. But that Amiel was just such a person his elaborate journal fully reveals. And Professor Mark Pattison has given his testimony that Amiel was not alone in his experiences, for six months after the journal was published he wrote, "I can vouch that there is in existence at least one other soul which has lived through the same struggles mental and moral as Amiel." Among the very large number of persons who come upon the stage in the action of this remarkable book, several besides the Squire, Grey, and Langham may have been suggested by persons whom the author knew. But the prototypes of these three are the only ones who really enter, in a vital way, into the actual construction of the novel. "But who was the real Elsmere?" one naturally asks. Many attempts have been made to identify this good preacher or that worthy reformer with the famous character, much to the annoyance of the author, who really created Elsmere out of the influences already described. The real Elsmere would be obviously one whose religious views were moulded by Mark Pattison and Thomas H. Green, and one who was profoundly interested in, if not influenced by, the strange self-distrust of Amiel. The real Elsmere would be also one whose religious convictions led inevitably to the desire to perform some practical service to mankind. Such an Elsmere exists in the person of Mrs. Ward herself, who is to-day regarded by the workers and associates of the Passmore Edwards Settlement, in Tavistock Place, London, with very much the same love and gratitude as Elsmere won from the people of Elgood Street. For this beneficent institution was a direct result of the novel, and owes its existence very largely to Mrs. Ward's energetic and influential efforts. III OTHER PEOPLE AND SCENERY "The History of David Grieve," Mrs. Ward's third novel, is by many considered, next to "Robert Elsmere," her greatest achievement. David and his sister Louie are the orphan children of a sturdy and high-minded Englishman whose wife was a French woman of somewhat doubtful character. Their development from early childhood to full maturity is traced with a power of psychological analysis seldom equaled. Both are intensely human and fall easy prey to the temptations of their environment, but in the end David overcomes the evil influences, while poor Louie, inheriting more of her mother's temperament, goes to her death in poverty and disgrace. The most attractive part of the book is the opening, where the two children are seen roaming the hills of the wild moorland country of their birth. This is the Kinderscout region, in Derbyshire, something over twenty miles southeast of Manchester. The visitor must take the train to Hayfield, called Clough End in the novel, and then, if he is fortunate enough to have permission from the owner, may drive a distance of four or five miles to what is now called Upper House, the country home of a wealthy merchant of Manchester. This was originally known as Marriott's Farm, and for several hundred years was owned by a family of that name. Here Mrs. Ward spent two days, when the entire house consisted of what is now the right wing. She walked over the moors and along the top of the Kinderscout with Mr. Marriott as her guide, and thus obtained the knowledge for the most perfect description of pastoral life to be found in any of her novels. Needham's Farm, the home of David and Louie, is the only other farm in the neighborhood. It is now known as the Lower House, and is owned by the same Manchester gentleman, but is leased to a family named Needham, who have occupied it for many years. It looks now just as it did when Mrs. Ward described it. The "Owd Smithy," where the prayer-meeting was held and Louie wickedly played the ghost of Jenny Crum, is now only remotely suggested by a heap of rocks bearing little resemblance to a building of any kind. Huge mill-stones, partly embedded in the earth, are scattered about here and there. The Downfall, which, when the water is coming over, is visible for miles around, is ordinarily a bare, bleak pile of rocks, for it is usually nearly if not quite dry. But after a heavy rain the water comes over in large volume, and, if the wind is strong, is blown back, presenting a most curious spectacle of a cascade seeming to disappear in the air when halfway to the bottom. Not far away is the Mermaid's Pool, haunted by the ghost of Jenny Crum. There is a real ghost story connected with this pool, which doubtless formed the basis of Mrs. Ward's legend. An old farmer named Tom Heys was much troubled by a ghost, of which he could not rid himself. He once shot at it, but without effect except that the bullet-mark is in the old house even now. An old woman once saw the ghost while shearing sheep. She threw the tongs at it. Instantly the room was filled with flying fleece, while the woman's clothes were cut to pieces and fell off her body. These were some of the troublesome pranks played by the ghost. At length the farmer discovered, somewhere on his place, an old skull, which doubtless belonged to His Ghostship, and carried it to the Mermaid's Pool, where he deposited it "To stay as long as holly's green, And rocks on Kinderscout are seen." This effectually disposed of the ghost so far as he was concerned, but the spirit still hovers over the Mermaid's Pool. [Illustration: THE ROTHAY AND NAB SCAR] Market Place, Manchester, where we find David after his flight from the old farm, looks to-day very much the same. Half Street, however, on the east of the cathedral, has disappeared. Purcell's shop in this street was described from a quaint little book-shop which actually existed at the time. The Parisian scenes of "David Grieve," the Louvre, the Boulevards, the Latin Quarter, Fontainebleau, Saint-Germain, and Barbizon, are all too well known to need mention here. The final scenes of the novel, where David's wife is brought after the beginning of her fatal illness, are in one of the most beautiful localities in the English Lake District. Lucy's house is supposed to be on the right bank of the river. The house is imaginary (the one on the left bank having no connection with the story), but the location is exactly described. This is just above Pelter Bridge, a mile north of Ambleside, where the river Rothay combines with the adjacent hills to make one of those fascinating scenes for which Westmoreland is famous. Nab Scar looms up before us, and off to the left is Loughrigg. A stroll along the river brings one to the little bridge at the outlet of Rydal Water, where David walked for quiet meditation during his wife's illness; and still farther northward the larch plantations on the side of Silver How add their touch of beauty to the landscape. This entire region has always been dear to Mrs. Ward's heart from the associations of her girlhood, and, if Lucy must die, she could think of no more lovely spot for the last sad scenes. One character in "David Grieve" is drawn from real life--Élise Delaunay, the French girl with whom David falls in love on his first visit to Paris. This is, in some respects, a portrait of Marie Bashkirtseff, a young native of Russia, whose brief career as an artist attracted much notice. Marie was born of wealthy parents in 1860. When she was only ten years old her mother quarreled with her husband and left him, taking the children with her. Marie returned to her father, with whom she traveled extensively. A born artist, the journey through Italy created in her a new and thrilling interest. She resolved to devote her life to art, and in 1877 entered the school of Julian in Paris. She soon showed astonishing capacity, and Julian assured her that her draughtsmanship was remarkable. One of her paintings, "Le Meeting," was exhibited in the Salon of 1884, and attracted much notice. Reproductions were made in all the leading papers, and it was finally bought by the cousin of the Czar, the Grand Duke Constantino Constantinowitch, a distinguished connoisseur and himself a painter. This picture represents half a dozen street gamins of the ordinary Parisian type holding a conference in the street. Their faces exhibit all the seriousness of a group of financiers consulting upon some project of vast importance. The peculiarity of Marie's character is set forth by her biographer in words which enable the reader of "David Grieve" instantly to recognize Élise Delaunay:-- She never wholly yields herself up to any fixed rule of conduct, or even passion, being swayed this way or that by the intense impressionability of her nature. She herself recognized this anomaly in the remark, "My life can't endure; I have a deal too much of some things and a deal too little of others, and a character not made to last." The very intensity of her desire to see life at all points seems to defeat itself, and she cannot help stealing side glances at ambition during the most romantic tête-à-tête with a lover, or being tortured by visions of unsatisfied love when art should have engrossed all her faculties. In the last year of her life Marie achieved an admiration for Bastien-Lepage which, her biographer says, "has a suspicious flavour of love about it. It is the strongest, sweetest, most impassioned feeling of her existence." She died in 1884, at the early age of twenty-four, assured by Bastien-Lepage that no other woman had ever accomplished so much at her age. "Marcella" and "Sir George Tressady" are novels of English social and political life--a field in which Mrs. Ward is peculiarly at home, and in which she has no superior. Marcella, who in her final development became one of the most beautiful women of all Mrs. Ward's characters, was suggested by the personality of an intimate friend, whose name need not be mentioned. Mellor Park, the home of Marcella, is drawn from Hampden House in Buckinghamshire. It is a famous old house, some centuries old, now the country-seat of the Earl of Buckinghamshire, and, with its well-kept gardens and spacious park, is unusually attractive. Twenty years ago, however, it was in a state of neglect. The road leading to it was full of underbrush, the garden was wholly uncared-for, and the house itself much in need of repair. This is the state in which Mrs. Ward describes it--and she knew it well, for she had leased it for a season and made it her summer home. The murder of the gamekeeper, described as taking place near Mellor Park, really happened at Stocks, Mrs. Ward's present home near Tring. The village of Ferth, where Sir George Tressady had his home and owned the collieries, is a mining village ten miles from Crewe, known as "Talk o' the Hill." The ugly black house to which Tressady brought home his young wife was described from an actual house which the author visited. "Helbeck of Bannisdale" was written while the author was living at Levens Hall, the handsome country home of Captain Bagot, M.P., which Mrs. Ward leased for a summer. It is a few miles south of Kendal, in Westmoreland, and just on the border of the "Peat Moss" country. The old hall dates back to 1170, the original deed now in possession of Captain Bagot bearing that date. The dining-room has an inlaid design over the mantel with the date 1586. The entrance-hall, dining-room, and drawing-room contain many antique relics. But the most remarkable feature of Levens is the garden, containing about two hundred yews trained and trimmed into every conceivable shape. There is an "umbrella" which has required two hundred years of constant care to reach its present size and shape; a British lion, with perfect coronet; a peacock with correctly formed neck and tail feathers; a barrister's wig, a kaffir's hut, and so on through a long list of curious shapes. In front of the house the river Kent, with a bridge of two arches, makes a picturesque scene. This is the "bridge over the Bannisdale River" which marked the end of Laura's drive with Mason, where at sight of Helbeck the young man made his sudden and unceremonious departure. A spacious park skirts the river, through which runs a grassy road bounded by splendid oaks intertwining their branches high above. Following this path we reached a foot-bridge barely wide enough for one person to cross, on the park end of which is a rough platform apparently built for fishermen. Here Laura kept her clandestine appointment with Mason, and on her way home was mistaken for the ghost of the "Bannisdale Lady," much to the terror of a poor old man who chanced to be passing, and not a little to her own subsequent embarrassment. A little beyond is the deep pool where Laura was drowned. The exterior of Bannisdale Hall is not Levens, but Sizergh Castle, some two or three miles nearer Kendal. At the time of the story a Catholic family of Stricklands owned the place, but, like Helbeck, were gradually selling parts of their property, and dealers from London and elsewhere were constantly coming to carry off furniture or paintings. The family finally lost the property, and it was acquired by a distant relative, Sir Gerald Strickland, who was recently appointed Governor of New South Wales, and who now owns but does not occupy it. The little chapel, high up on a hill, where Laura was buried, is at Cartmel Fell, in Northern Lancashire. A quaint little chapel five or six hundred years old, it is well worth a visit. The scenes of "Eleanor" are in Italy, and here Mrs. Ward fairly revels in descriptions of "Italy, the beloved and beautiful." The opening chapters have their setting in the Villa Barberini, on the ridge of the Alban Hills, south of Rome, from the balcony of which the dome of St. Peter's can be seen in the distance, dominating the landscape by day and seeming at night to be the one thing which has definite form and identity. There is a visit to Nemi and Egeria's Spring, after which the scene changes to the valley of the Paglia, beyond the hill town of Orvieto, "a valley with wooded hills on either side, of a bluish-green color, checkered with hill towns and slim campaniles and winding roads; and, binding it all in one, the loops and reaches of a full brown river." Torre Amiata--the real name of which is Torre Alfina--is a magnificent castle, "a place of remote and enchanting beauty." Through some Italian friends, Mrs. Ward met the agent of this great estate, who put his house at her disposal for a season. This happy opportunity gave her the intimate acquaintance with the surrounding country which she used with such excellent skill in "Eleanor," and enabled her, among other things, to discover the ruined convent and chapel which formed the dismal retreat of Lucy and Eleanor in their strange flight from Mr. Manisty. "Lady Rose's Daughter," which followed "Eleanor," likewise reflects the author's love of Italy. It was written, in part at least, in the beautiful villa at Cadenabbia, on Lake Como, from which a view of surpassing loveliness meets the eye in every direction. Mrs. Ward never tires of it, and in her leisure moments while there found great delight in reproducing in her sketch-book the charming colors of a landscape which can scarcely be equaled in any other part of the world. The setting of the novel in its earlier chapters is London. But when Julie Le Breton, worn out by mental anguish, the result of experiences which had nearly ruined her life, could be rescued and brought back to life only by a quiet rest amid pleasant surroundings, Lake Como was the place selected by her kind-hearted little friend the duchess. As her strength gradually returned she daily walked over the hill to the path that led to the woods overhanging the Villa Carlotta. Such a path! To the left hand, and, as it seemed, steeply beneath her feet, all earth and heaven--the wide lake, the purple mountains, the glories of a flaming sky. On the calm spaces of water lay a shimmer of crimson and gold, repeating the noble splendor of the clouds.... To her right a green hillside--each blade of grass, each flower, each tuft of heath, enskied, transfigured by the broad light that poured across it from the hidden west. And on the very hilltop a few scattered olives, peaches, and wild cherries scrawled upon the blue, their bare, leaning stems, their pearly whites, their golden pinks and feathery gray, all in a glory of sunset that made of them things enchanted, aerial, fantastical, like a dance of Botticelli angels on the height. [Illustration: LAKE COMO] The story opens with a graphic description of Lady Henry's salon--frequented by the most prominent people in London--where the chief attraction was not the great lady herself, but her maid companion, Julie Le Breton. Everywhere Julie was met with smiles and evidence of eager interest. She knew every one, and "her rule appeared to be at once absolute and welcome." But one evening Lady Henry was ill and gave orders that the guests be turned away with her apologies. As the carriages drove up, one by one, the footman rehearsed Lady Henry's excuses. But a group of men soon assembled in the inner vestibule, and Julie felt impelled to invite them into the library, where they were implored not to make any noise. The distinguished frequenters of Lady Henry's salon were all there. Coffee was served, and, stimulated by the blazing fire and a sense of excitement due to the novelty of the situation, an animated conversation sprang up, which continued till midnight and was at last suddenly interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Lady Henry herself. Lady Henry's awakening led to Julie's dismissal. But her friends did not desert her. A little cottage was found, where Julie was soon comfortably installed. This much of the story--and little if any more--was suggested by the life of Julie de Lespinasse, a Frenchwoman who figured brilliantly in the Paris society of the middle of the eighteenth century. In 1754 the Marquise du Deffand was one of the famous women of Paris. Her quick intelligence and a great reputation for wit had brought to her drawing-room the famous authors, philosophers, and learned men of the day. But the great lady, now nearly sixty, was entirely blind and subject to a "chronic weariness that devoured her." She sought a remedy in the society of an extraordinarily attractive young woman, of somewhat doubtful parentage, named Julie de Lespinasse, whom she took into her home as a companion. Julie became a great social success. For ten years she remained with Madame du Deffand, when a bitter quarrel separated them. Julie's friends combined to assure her an income and a home, and she was soon established almost opposite the house of her former patron. The Maréchale de Luxembourg presented her with a complete suite of furniture. Turgot, the famous Minister of Louis XVI, and President Hénault were among those who provided funds. D'Alembert, distinguished as a philosopher, author, and geometrician, who was the cause of the quarrel with the marquise, became Julie's most intimate friend. When she founded her own salon, his official patronage and constant presence assured its success. Her success was, in fact, astonishingly rapid. "In the space of a few months," says her biographer, the Marquis de Ségur, "the modest room with the crimson blinds was nightly filled, between the hours of six and ten, by a crowd of chosen visitors, courtiers and men of letters, soldiers and churchmen, ambassadors and great ladies, ... each and all gayly jostling elbows as they struggled up the narrow wooden stairs, unregretting, and forgetting in the ardor of their talk, the richest houses in Paris, their suppers and balls, the opera, and the futile lures of the grand world." The remarkable career and unique personality of this famous woman furnished the suggestion for Julie Le Breton. But beyond this the resemblance is slight. The subsequent history of the Frenchwoman has no relation to the story of "Lady Rose's Daughter," and the personality of the two women differs in many respects. "The Marriage of William Ashe" is like "Lady Rose's Daughter" in two important respects: it is a story in which the author reveals an extraordinary knowledge of English politics and familiarity with the social life of the upper classes, and it is one in which a story of real life plays an important part. Indeed, there is far more of real life in this novel than in any other the author has written. William Ashe and his frivolous and erratic wife Kitty are portraits, considerably modified, it is true, but nevertheless real, of William and Caroline Lamb. William Lamb--known to posterity as Lord Melbourne--did not become a distinguished statesman until after he had entered the House of Lords. For twenty-five years he had been a member of the House of Commons, of little influence and almost unknown to the country at large. But soon after the death of George IV he entered the cabinet of Earl Grey as Home Secretary. This was in 1830. Less than four years later he rose suddenly to the highest position in the state. As Premier it was his unique privilege to instruct the young Queen, Victoria, in the duties of her high office--a task which he executed with commendable tact and skill. It is the inconsequential William Lamb of the House of Commons, and not the exalted Lord Melbourne, whom Mrs. Ward had in mind in portraying William Ashe; and it was more particularly his young wife, Caroline Lamb, who furnished the real motive of the novel. "Lady Caroline," we are told by Lord Melbourne's biographer, Dr. Dunckley, "became the mistress of many accomplishments. She acquired French and Latin, and had the further courage, Mr. Torrens tells us, to undertake the recital of an ode of Sappho. She could draw and paint, and had the instinct of caricature. Her mind was brimming with romance, and, regardless of conventionality, she followed her own tastes in everything. In conversation she was both vivacious and witty." Such was Lady Caroline Ponsonby when she married William Lamb. The marriage proved an extremely unhappy one. Lady Caroline's whole life was a series of flirtations--deliberately planned, as a matter of fact, and yet entered upon with such mad rushes of passion as to seem merely the result of some irresistible impulse. A son was born to the couple, but he brought no joy, for as he grew up he developed an infirmity of intellect amounting almost to imbecility. The life of the young people was "an incessant round of frivolous dissipation." The after-supper revels often lasted till daybreak. But this brought no happiness, and both husband and wife came to realize that marriage had been, for them, a troublesome affair. About this time Lord Byron appeared on the scene. "Childe Harold" had brought him sudden fame. He had traveled in the East, was the hero of many escapades, had been sufficiently wicked to win the admiration of certain ladies of romantic tendencies, and altogether created quite a _furor_ through the peculiar charms of his handsome face and dashing ways. He sought and obtained an introduction to Lady Caroline. He came to call the next day when she was alone, and for the next nine months almost lived at Melbourne House. They called each other by endearing names, and exchanged passionate verses. They were constantly together, and the intimacy caused much scandalous comment. It lasted until Byron became tired of it all, and announced his intention of marrying. The marriage to a cousin of Lady Caroline aroused the fierce jealousy of the latter, who proceeded to perform a little melodrama of her own, first trying to jump out of a window and then stabbing herself--not so deep that it would hurt--with a knife. Such escapades could have but one result. There came a separation, of course; but some traces of the early love remained in both, and when Lady Caroline was dying, William Lamb was summoned from Ireland. The final parting was not without tender affection on both sides, and William felt his loss deeply. In this brief sketch the reader of Mrs. Ward's novel will recognize Kitty Ashe in every line. The portraiture is very close. Cliffe takes the place of Lord Byron without being made to resemble him. But he serves to reveal the weakness of Kitty's character. Even Kitty's mischievous work in writing a book, which came near ruining her husband's career, was an episode in the life of Caroline Lamb. She wrote a novel in which Byron and herself were the principal characters, and their escapades were paraded before the world in a thin disguise which deceived nobody. [Illustration: STOCKS] Of Mrs. Ward's later books there is little to say, so far as scenes and "originals" are concerned. In "Fenwick's Career" the little cottage where the artist and his wife lived was in reality the summer home of Mrs. Ward's daughter Dorothy. It stands on the slope of a hill near the Langdale Pikes in Westmoreland, commanding a view of surpassing loveliness. In the "Testing of Diana Mallory" the scenery is all taken from the country near Stocks, the summer home of the novelist. In "Daphne," or "Marriage à la Mode," Mount Vernon, Washington, Niagara Falls, and an imaginary English estate supply the necessary scenery, and these are not described with real interest, for the author, contrary to her usual custom, is here writing with a fixed didactic purpose. But a chapter incidentally thrown in reflects the novelist's impressions of a visit to the White House as the guest of President Roosevelt--an experience which interested her greatly. In "the tall, black-haired man with the meditative eye, the equal, social or intellectual, of any Foreign Minister that Europe might pit against him, or any diplomat that might be sent to handle him," it is easy to recognize Mr. Root. Secretary Garfield is "this younger man, sparely built, with the sane handsome face--son of a famous father, modest, amiable, efficient." Secretary Taft, with whom, apparently, the distinguished author did not really become acquainted, is lightly referred to as "this other of huge bulk and height, the hope of a party, smiling already a Presidential smile as he passed." It has been said of this book that it does an injustice to America. But such was assuredly far from the author's intent. Mrs. Ward, who is one of the keenest observers of English and European public men, pays a high compliment in the remark that "America need make no excuses whatever for her best men.... She has evolved the leaders she wants, and Europe has nothing to teach them." She is attacking the laxity of the divorce laws in certain American States, and in doing so is actuated by motives which every high-minded American must applaud. The English general who berates American institutions is held up to ridicule, and the most agreeable woman in the book--perhaps the only agreeable one--is an American. Daphne, through whom the author condemns the evil, is not a typical American girl, but, with evident intent to avoid offense, is made the daughter of a foreigner. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Ward's feelings toward America are of the kindliest nature, and, whatever may be said of the merits of "Marriage à la Mode" as a work of fiction, in condemning an abuse which nobody can defend she has performed a real service. FOOTNOTE: [5] 1908. VI A TOUR OF THE ITALIAN LAKES VI A TOUR OF THE ITALIAN LAKES We caught our first glimpse of Maggiore from a window in Stresa, late in the afternoon of a charming day in early spring. In spite of the lateness of the hour, with all the enthusiasm of amateurs, we proceeded to make a photograph of the charming scene. Ruskin was right when he declared Maggiore to be the most beautiful of all the Italian lakes;--at least, we felt willing to admit this, even though we had not yet seen the others. In the foreground were the green lawns and white paths of a well-kept park, skirting the lake; then a wide stretch of water, roughened by the wind so that its surface, usually smooth, was now dotted with whitecaps, dancing and sparkling in the afternoon sun; across the water to the left, the village of Pallanza, pushing itself far out into the lake, and thrown into strong relief by the high mountains at its back; far away in the distance, the white-capped summit of some Alpine range; and above it all, the most beautiful of blue Italian skies. We gazed long upon the scene, until the twilight began to deepen. Soon two figures appeared at the entrance to the park, one a woman in a green velvet gown, the other a man in a long flowing mantle of the style peculiar to Italy. They seemed in earnest conversation, now approaching each other with vigorous but graceful gestures, now falling back a step or two and again advancing. The man would throw his cloak over his left shoulder; then, when his earnestness caused it to slip away, he would throw it back again, repeating the movement over and over. We could almost fancy overhearing Lorenzo say:-- "In such a night Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew, And with an unthrift love did run from Venice As far as Belmont"; and hearing Jessica reply:-- "And in such a night Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well, Stealing her soul with many vows of faith, And ne'er a true one." The little pantomime seemed all that was needed to complete the romance of the scene, while the gathering twilight lent its aid. [Illustration: LAKE MAGGIORE, ITALY] The Lago di Maggiore, known to the Romans as Lacus Verbanus, is the westernmost as well as the largest of three lovely lakes which lie on the southern slope of the Alps, in an area not greater than that of the State of Rhode Island. The Lago di Como, or Lacus Larius, is the easternmost of the group, while the Lago di Lugano, smaller, but not less beautiful, lies between the other two. There is a peculiar delicacy of beauty about these lakes like an exquisitely tinted rosebud or the perfume of apple blossoms. The ruggedness of aspect common to most mountain lakes is here lost in the soft luxuriance of the green shores, the sparkling waters, and the rich blue sky. The hills are lined with terraces of green vineyards, interspersed with the pink of peach and almond blossoms. Camellias and azaleas brighten the gardens. Mulberry trees, olives, and cypresses, mingling with their sturdy Northern companions, the spruces and pines, cast their varied foliage against the brown of the near-by mountains. In the distance the snow-clad peaks of the Alps interpose their white mantles between the blue of the sky and the warmer tones of the hillsides, while here and there picturesque villages stand out on projecting promontories to lend an additional gleam of whiteness to the landscape. Mingling with the charm of all this natural beauty and intensifying it are the atmosphere of poetry and romance which one instinctively feels, and the more tangible associations with history, literature, science, art, and architecture which are constantly suggested as one makes the tour of the lakes. In the morning we found our places on the upper deck of the little steamer that makes a zigzag journey through Maggiore. No sooner had the boat started than we heard sweet strains of music and a chorus of well-modulated male voices. The night before we had had a miniature play for our special benefit. Can it be possible that now we are to have Italian opera? They were only a party of native excursionists, but we were genuinely sorry when they disembarked at the next landing. Leaving Stresa, famous as the home of Cavour, when that great statesman was planning the creation of a united Italy, we soon came in sight of Isola Bella. As it lay there in the bright sunlight, its green terraces and tropical foliage, its white towers and arcaded walls reflected in the blue waters of the lake, the snowy mountains forming a distant background and a cloudless blue sky surmounting the whole, we thought it beautiful. But in this, it seems, our taste was at fault, and while admiring we ought to have been criticizing. It was like spending an evening with genuine enjoyment at the theater, only to find out the next morning from the critic of the daily newspaper that the play was poor, the acting only ordinary, and the applause merely an act of generosity. Southey wrote of it, "Isola Bella is at once the most costly and the most absurd effort of bad taste that has ever been produced by wealth and extravagance." A more recent English writer condemns its "monstrous artificialities." He declares that "the gardens are a triumph of bad taste," and that "artificial grottoes, bristling with shells, terrible pieces of hewn stone, which it would be an offense to sculpture to term statuary, offend the eye at every turn." Another says that it is "like a Périgord pie, stuck all over with the heads of woodcocks and partridges," while some one else thinks it "worthy the taste of a confectioner." On the other hand, our own distinguished novelist, Mrs. Edith Wharton, found much to be admired:-- The palace has ... one feature of peculiar interest to the student of villa architecture, namely, the beautiful series of rooms in the south basement, opening on the gardens, and decorated with the most exquisite ornamentation of pebble-work and sea-shells, mingled with delicate-tinted stucco. These low-vaulted rooms, with marble floors, grotto-like walls, and fountains dripping into fluted conches, are like a poet's notion of some twilight refuge from summer heats, where the languid green air has the coolness of water: even the fantastic consoles, tables, and benches, in which cool glimmering mosaics are combined with carved wood and stucco painted in faint greens and rose-tints, might have been made of mother-of-pearl, coral, and seaweed for the adornment of some submarine palace. It was the fashion to admire the island before it became the rule to condemn its artificiality. Bishop Burnet visited Maggiore in 1685, fourteen years after the Count Vitaliano Borromeo had transformed the island from a barren slate rock into a costly summer residence. He thought it "one of the loveliest spots of ground in the world," and wrote, "there is nothing in all Italy that can be compared with it." At a much later time, Lord Lytton allowed himself to rise to the heights of enthusiasm:-- "O fairy island of a fairy sea, Wherein Calypso might have spelled the Greek, Or Flora piled her fragrant treasury, Culled from each shore her zephyr's wings could seek,-- From rocks where aloes blow. "Tier upon tier, Hesperian fruits arise: The hanging bowers of this soft Babylon; An India mellows in the Lombard skies, And changelings, stolen from the Lybian sun, Smile to yon Alps of snow." [Illustration: ISOLA BELLA, LAKE MAGGIORE] The charge of artificiality must be admitted. A bare rock cannot be transformed into a thing of beauty and escape the charge. The ten terraces are a series of walls, built in the form of a pyramid and covered with earth, transported from the mainland at great expense. Orange and lemon trees, amid a profusion of tropical foliage, are thus made to wave their fragrant branches in the face of Alpine snows. Is not this worth while? The truth is that Lake Maggiore is so rich in the kind of beauty which the hand of Nature has provided that the creations of man--the villas, the gardens, the vineyards, the villages nestling close to the water's edge, and the pilgrimage churches high up on the mountain-sides--seem only to accentuate the charm. The Isola dei Pescatori, or Island of the Fishermen, lying near the "Beautiful Island," forms a striking contrast. If distance is needed to lend enchantment and conceal the lavish expenditure of wealth on the Isola Bella, it is needed still more to hide the squalor and avoid the odor of the poor fishermen's island. Yet the latter, seen from the steamer's deck, is far more picturesque than its more pretentious neighbor. The third of the Borromean group is known as the Isola Madre. It has seven terraces, surmounted by an unused villa. Its gardens are full of roses, camellias, and all kinds of beautiful plants, lemons, oranges, myrtle, magnolia, and semi-tropical trees in great profusion. Less popular than Isola Bella, it is considered by many far more attractive. Two villages lying farther south on the western shore of the lake are worthy of at least passing mention:--Belgirate and Arona. The former was the home, in the late years of his life, of the great master of Italian prose, Manzoni, whose novel, "I Promessi Sposi," was thought by Scott to be the finest ever written. He was a man of the people, greatly beloved by his countrymen for his benevolence, tender sympathy, and warmth of affection. Arona was the home of the patron saint of the Italian lakes, Carlo Borromeo. A colossal statue, sixty-six feet high on a pedestal of forty feet, built to his memory in 1697, is one of the sights of the region. St. Charles was born in 1537. At the age of twenty-three he was made a cardinal by his uncle, Pope Pius IV. Inheriting great wealth, he devoted his revenues to charity, sometimes living on bread and water and sleeping on straw. Traveling as a missionary, he visited the remotest villages and almost inaccessible shepherds' huts high up on the mountains. He is best remembered for his self-sacrifice and heroic devotion to the people in the great plague at Milan in 1575. But the great saint was a hater of heretics and caused many of them to be put to death. Nor was he without enemies among those of his own faith. A Franciscan monk once fired upon him, but he escaped as if by miracle, the bullet glancing from the heavy gold embroidery of his cope--a demonstration that gold lace is not always a wholly superfluous decoration. Our little steamer zigzagged back and forth, stopping at many villages, until finally Luino was reached. This busy little town was the birthplace of Bernardino Luini, the illustrious disciple of Leonardo da Vinci, whose frescoes adorn many of the Italian churches. It was also the scene of one of Garibaldi's brave exploits, though an unsuccessful one. Here we left the steamer for a short ride by tramway to Ponte Tresa, on Lake Lugano, where another little boat was waiting. Although usually regarded as one of the Italian lakes, the greater portion of Lugano is in Swiss territory. Most tourists make it the gateway from the north into Italy, passing through its most populous town, Lugano, which, with its neighbor, Paradiso, lines the shores of a beautiful blue bay, guarded on either side by high mountains, clothed with groves of oak and chestnut set off by vineyards and gardens on the lower slopes. To the front Monte Caprino rises straight up from the water like one huge, solitary rock, keeping stern watch over the soft luxuriance of the towns. San Salvatore is the sentinel on the right, while Monte Bri and Monte Boglia are on duty at the left. Lugano was the home of the Italian patriot, Mazzini, who has been called the prophet of Italian unity, as Garibaldi was its knight-errant and Cavour its statesman. On the eastern side of the lake and farther to the south is Monte Generoso. We saw it only from the steamer, but it ought to be seen at close range, for it is covered with woods and pastures and commands a view of the chain of lakes that is said to be unsurpassed in all Italy. We maintained our zigzag journey, however, until Porlezza was reached, where another little train stood ready to carry us over to Lake Como. For kaleidoscopic revelations of Nature's choicest scenes and rarest beauties, the descent from the highlands to the town of Menaggio could scarcely be equaled. The train moved slowly through the vineyards and gardens, gradually descending, until with a sudden turn the whole northern end of Como burst gloriously into view. Never was sky a lovelier blue and never did water more splendidly reflect its azure hue. Far away the snowy Alps gave a touch of the sublime to a view of surpassing grandeur. In a moment the scene changed, and Bellagio with its white villas stood before us, separating the two arms of the lake. Then Varenna with its solitary tower, and finally, at the edge of the water, the village of Menaggio itself. "How blest, delicious scene! the eye that greets Thy open beauties or thy lone retreats,-- Beholds the unwearied sweep of wood that scales Thy cliffs: the endless waters of thy vales: Thy lowly cots that sprinkle all the shore, Each with its household boat beside the door." So sang Wordsworth in the days of his youth. Slowly winding our way down the precipitous slopes, we reached at last the end of the railway, and a third steamer closed the experiences of the day by carrying us safely to Cadenabbia. "That was Italy! and as lovely as Italy can be when she tries." So the poet Longfellow wrote to James T. Fields in 1868. And every one who has been there can appreciate the poet's feeling when he wrote:-- "I ask myself, Is this a dream? Will it all vanish into air? Is there a land of such supreme And perfect beauty anywhere? Sweet vision! Do not fade away; Linger until my heart shall take Into itself the summer day And all the beauties of the lake." Above Cadenabbia and reached by a winding path through terraces of vineyards, there is a bit of woods, made brilliant at this time of the spring by a wealth of wild cherries, peaches, and almonds in full blossom, and by the tall, luxuriant growths of rhododendrons, now covered in thick profusion with huge clusters of splendid pink and purple blossoms. A shady spot near the edge of the woods, where there was a table and some chairs, made a convenient place where we could rest after our climb, and view Longfellow's vision of "supreme and perfect beauty." The grand and majestic beauty of Maggiore and the more modest but sweeter loveliness of Lugano were but the preparation for the glorious, satisfying perfection of Como, the most beautiful of all the lakes, "a serene accord of forms and colors." Lake Como is famous, not alone for its beauty, but for the many associations of history, science, art, and literature. For centuries its shores have been thickly set with costly villas--the homes of wealth and luxury, and not infrequently of learning and culture. The elder Pliny, whose habits of industry were so great that he worked on his prodigious "Natural History" even while traveling at night in his carriage, was born at the city of Como, as was also his gifted nephew. Volta, the great physicist and pioneer in electrical science, Pope Innocent III, and Pope Clement XIII were all natives of the same place. The Cathedral of Como is one of the most splendid in northern Italy. The churches scattered all along the shores of the lake, as well as the villas, are a delight to students of art and architecture. They are filled with paintings of great interest and valuable works of sculpture. Historically, although not conspicuous in the great events of the world's progress, the lake has been the theater of many stirring scenes, particularly in mediæval times. Halfway between Menaggio and the northern end of the lake lies a rocky promontory known as Musso, the site in the sixteenth century of a great and almost impregnable castle. It was the center of the activities of one of the ablest, wickedest, and most picturesque figures in the history of Italy. His name was Gian Giacomo de Medici, although he was not related to the famous Florentine family. He is best known by the name of "Il Medeghino." He is described as a man of medium stature, broad-chested, and of pallid but good-humoured countenance, and possessed of a keen and searching glance. He was kind to his family and possessed the affection of his soldiers; he was temperate and not given to the indulgence of the senses; and he gave liberally to charity and to the encouragement of art. But he was a murderer, traitor, liar, and all-round villain of the first magnitude. If San Carlo Borromeo was the patron saint of the Italian lakes, his uncle, Il Medeghino, was their presiding demon. He began his career at the age of sixteen by killing another youth--an act for which he was banished from Milan, but which became the stepping-stone to a successful campaign of ambition, based upon crime and bloodshed. In those days of violence the capacity to do murder was a recommendation, and Il Medeghino soon rose to a position of power. He helped Francesco Sforza, the last of that famous house, to regain the Duchy of Milan by taking the life of a French courier and stealing his documents, for which services he demanded the Castle of Musso. The price asked by the duke was another murder, and the victim this time was a personal friend and fellow soldier. Il Medeghino did not hesitate, but brutally assassinated his friend. The duke, no longer able to refuse, sent him to the castle with a letter to the governor, ordering the latter to turn the fortress over to the young adventurer, but also with a sealed letter requesting the governor to cut his throat. Il Medeghino took no chances on the secret letter. He broke the seal and destroyed this message, presenting the open letter and obtaining possession of the stronghold. Immediately he made his power felt. He strengthened the walls of the fort and made the cliffs inaccessible. He made himself feared and his authority respected. He began a career of piracy and plunder, continuing until he became the master, not only of Lake Como, but of Lugano and much of the adjacent territory. His fleet of seven large ships and many smaller ones swept the lake from end to end. Although but thirty years of age, he was now a power to be reckoned with. The Spaniards, finding him dangerous and not to be conquered by force, finally succeeded in winning him by concessions. Charles V created him Marquis of Musso and Count of Lecco, and induced him to begin a vigorous warfare against his former master, the Duke of Milan. But the end was near. A great force of Swiss attacked from the north and the Duke of Milan sent a large fleet and great army to subdue the rebel. A battle off Menaggio was lost by the pirate. He made a desperate fight, but was compelled to yield to superior forces. But he nevertheless retired with honors. He was given an enormous sum of money and the title of Marquis of Marignano, together with free pardon for himself and all his followers. The rest of his days were spent in the service of Spain. When he died, in his sixtieth year, his brother, Pope Pius IV, erected a magnificent tomb to his memory in the Cathedral of Milan, where all who feel so disposed may pause to honor this prince of pirates and most unscrupulous of plunderers, conspicuous for his wickedness, even in an age ruled by violence. It is a relief to turn from the history of one of the wickedest of men to that of one of the noblest of women, by merely crossing the lake to the village of Varenna--a town known to tourists for its milk-white cascade, the Fiume Latte, a waterfall which leaps in spring-time from a height of a thousand feet. Here the remnant of the castle of the good Queen Theodelinda may still be seen. In the sixth century A.D., the Langobards, or Long-Beards, taking advantage of the weakness and desolation following the long wars against the Goths, descended into Italy to take possession of the land. A powerful race of Teutons, renowned for daring and love of war, they met with little resistance. Their king, soon after, met a tragic death at the hands of his wife, and his successor reigned only two years. After ten years of experiments with a national confederacy, composed of some thirty-five dukes, constantly at war with each other, and resulting in a condition of anarchy, the first real king of the Lombards was chosen, Authari the Long-haired, known also by his Roman name of Flavius. The chief event in the life of this monarch was his courtship and marriage. Having decided, probably for reasons of state, upon the daughter of Garibald, Duke of Bavaria, as his future wife, he sent ambassadors to arrange the union. But becoming possessed of a strange and unaccountable desire to catch a glimpse of the lady before taking the final step, he is said to have accompanied his messengers in disguise. Fortunately for the romance of the incident, he was charmed with her beauty while the princess promptly fell in love with him. The Christian Theodelinda became the honored queen of the Lombards and so won the confidence of their leaders that after the death of Authari, shortly after their marriage, she was invited to choose her own husband, who would thereupon become the king. She chose Agilulf, Duke of Turin. Through the influence of Theodelinda, the Lombards were brought into the Catholic Church, and the queen herself built at Monza the first Lombard cathedral. Pope Gregory the Great is said to have recognized her services by sending her a precious relic, one of the nails of the Cross, wrought into a narrow band or fillet of iron. Sometime later, probably in the twelfth century, this ancient relic, combined with a broad band of gold set with many jewels, was converted into the celebrated Iron Crown of Lombardy, with which the German Emperors in mediæval times were crowned Kings of Italy. It was used at the coronation of Napoleon at Milan in 1805, and by the present King of Italy upon his accession. Theodelinda's name was held in reverence by her people, not only for her great public and private charities, but for her kindliness of heart. The castle at Varenna is said to have been her home during the last years of her life. If this story of the Larian Lake, to use its Roman name, is being told backwards, it is because we first saw it at the northern end, where the interest centers in the events of the Middle Ages. But having jumped from the sixteenth back to the sixth century, it requires no greater agility to skip a few more hundreds of years until we get back to the time of Julius Cæsar, who as governor of Cisalpine Gaul sent five thousand colonists to the shores of the lake to protect the region against the depredations of the Gauls. Five hundred of them settled at the ancient town of Comum. The city never played an important part in the history of Rome, but remained a comparatively quiet yet prosperous municipality. In the Golden Age of Rome, the shores of the Lacus Larius became lined with costly villas, where wealthy men sought a retreat from the too strenuous life of the Imperial City. The need of such a refuge must be apparent to any one having even the most superficial knowledge of Roman municipal life in the first century of the Christian era. To escape the corruption of official life, the endless feasts of extravagance and immorality, and even the public amusements, where, as in the Flavian amphitheater, 87,000 people were wont to gather to witness vast spectacles of cruelty, obscenity, and bloodshed, there was need enough, and the moral, self-respecting, and refined people of Rome fully realized it. For there were such people, though the fact has been obscured by history, which has to deal chiefly with the excesses of the ruling classes. The two Plinys and their friends were brilliant examples of the Romans of the better sort. Though an aristocrat, Pliny the younger was a charitable, good-natured man, who loved the quiet of a home where he could combine study with fishing, hunting, and the companionship of congenial friends. He possessed several villas on the shores of Como, but two particularly interested him, one of which, in a somewhat whimsical letter, he called "Tragedy" and the other "Comedy"; the high boot worn by tragedians suggesting the name of the one on a high rock over the lake, while the sock or slipper of the comedian applied to the villa down by the water's edge. The latter had the great advantage that one might fish from his bedroom, throwing the line out of the window while he lay in bed. Pliny does not tell how many fish he caught under these conditions. The Villa Pliniana, just above Torno, on the eastern side of the lake, was built in 1570 by Count Giovanni Anguisola, whose claim to distinction lies in his participation in the murder of Pierluigi Farnese. The villa was erected as a safe retreat, where he might escape vengeance. Its feature of greatest interest is a curious stream which flows through the central apartment of the house. Fifteen centuries before the villa was constructed, Pliny described this stream in one of his most interesting letters. "A certain spring," he writes, "rises in a mountain and runs down through the rocks till it is inclosed in a small dining-parlor made by hand; after being slightly retarded there, it empties itself into the Larian lake. Its nature is very remarkable. Three times a day it is increased or diminished in volume by a regular rise and fall. This can be plainly seen, and when perceived is a source of great enjoyment. You recline close to it and take your food and even drink from the spring itself (for it is remarkably cold): meanwhile with a regular and measured movement, it either subsides or rises. If you place a ring or any other object on the dry ground it is gradually moistened and finally covered over: then again it comes to view and is by degrees deserted by the water. If you watch long enough you will see both of these performances repeated a second and even a third time." Another famous villa at the southern end of the lake, near the city of Como, was erected by Cardinal Gallio, the son of a fisherman, who achieved high honors in his Church and amassed great wealth. This villa was later the home of the discarded Queen Caroline, wife of George IV, who gave it the name of Villa d'Este and made great additions to its elegance. It is now a fashionable hotel. Cardinal Gallio seems to have had a passion for extensive villas. His palace at Gravedona, at the head of the lake, was one of the most splendid in Europe. It is said that he could make the journey to Rome, requiring six days, and stop at one of his own palaces every night. The Villa Carlotta now the property of the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen, is at Tremezzo, a village adjoining Cadenabbia on the south. Its chief beauty lies in the garden, filled with a profusion of plants of every variety--roses, camellias, azaleas, magnolias, oranges, lilies--all arranged in charming walks, with here and there a vista of the lake and Bellagio in the distance, reflecting the bright sunlight from its white walls. Above are the woods and the little round table overlooking the water, where we began our survey of the Larian shores. The interior contains a large collection of sculptures, but most visitors remember only two pieces,--Thorwaldsen's "Triumphant Entry into Babylon of Alexander the Great," and Canova's lovely "Cupid and Psyche." After seeing some of these palaces merely as tourists, and learning the history of others of an earlier day, particularly the homes described by Pliny, we could not help wishing to see an Italian palace which is not a show place but a home, and typical of modern life on the shores of this wonderful lake, for so many centuries sought by men of wealth as the place where they could realize their dreams of comfort and delight. The opportunity of gratifying this desire came sooner than we expected. We had started one morning to make a call at the summer home of Mrs. Humphry Ward, who had leased the Villa Bonaventura for a season. Mistaking the directions, we entered the gate of the Villa Maria, a large house in the classical lines of the Italian Renaissance, standing high above the road and reached by winding paths through a garden of surpassing loveliness. Our ring was answered by the Italian butler, who in response to our inquiries nodded pleasantly, not understanding a word we said, and disappeared. In a few moments we were most cordially greeted by an American gentleman, who assured us he was delighted to see us, and would be happy to show us the villa. In another moment, and before we could make explanations, another ring of the doorbell announced two other callers, who, as it happened, were really expected at the hour of our arrival, by invitation to see the villa. We had made a mistake, and in turn had been mistaken for two other people, but our friendly host insisted that we, too, should see his beautiful home. [Illustration: THE ATRIUM OF THE VILLA MARIA] We were standing in the atrium before a large marble vase--a restoration of the so-called Gaeta vase, by Salpion, a Greek sculptor of the time of Praxiteles. The original was thrown into the Bay of Gaeta, where for centuries it remained partially embedded in the mud. The fishermen of many generations used it as a convenient post for mooring their boats, and did much damage with their ropes. It was finally rescued and taken to a church for use as a baptismal font, and later transferred to the Naples Museum. The theme of the vase is the presentation of the infant Bacchus, by Mercury, to one of the Nymphs--a favorite subject with ancient sculptors. Mr. Haines, our courteous host, was justly proud of this--the first complete restoration of this beautiful work of art. The decoration of the atrium, including the eight lunettes, as well as of the entire villa, are by the hand of Pogliaghi, who now stands at the head of the Lombard decorators. He is the young sculptor who in 1895 was commissioned to design the magnificent bronze doors of the Cathedral of Milan, a work requiring seven years. One striking feature of the villa is its harmony of color. Glance out the doorway, from the atrium across the lake, or from the dining-room toward Menaggio, or through the library windows into the garden, and everywhere you see the blue Italian sky, the brown of the distant mountains, the green of the freshly budding trees, the sparkle of the lake, and the brilliant tints of the camellias, hyacinths, and cineraria, combining to make a scene of splendor rarely equaled in this good old world of ours. Then, glancing back into the rooms of the villa, you find the same tints and shadings in the walls and ceilings, the paintings, tapestries, and upholstery. Perfect harmony with Nature at her best seems to have been Pogliaghi's motive. Passing to the right of the atrium, we entered the music saloon, decorated and furnished in the style of Louis XIV, a large and beautiful room, noteworthy, not only for its acoustic properties, but also for extreme richness and harmony of design and color. An arched opening reveals a portion of a fine piece of tapestry by Giulio Romano, dating from the sixteenth century, which covers the rear wall of the dining-room. This tapestry, formerly owned by the Duke of Modena, is a representation of the old Greek legend of the presentation of Bacchus, the same theme as that of the Gaeta vase. Indeed, it was the possession of this tapestry which suggested to Mr. Haines the idea of obtaining a restoration of the famous vase. A striking feature of the dining-room is the frieze of Poliaghi representing young Bacchantes in the midst of fruit and flowers, so cleverly painted that it seems to be done in high relief, completely deceiving the eye. On the left of the atrium is the library, with two life-size portraits by De La Gandara, one of Mr. Haines and the other of his wife. Mrs. Haines was an accomplished musician as well as an enthusiastic collector of works of art. The Villa Maria was designed by her as a fitting shrine for her valuable collections as well as with a view to musical entertainments. Since her death, in 1899, Mr. Haines, with equal enthusiasm and taste, has added to the collections and improved the villa. His study is in the rear of the library. Its distinguishing feature is a life-size portrait of the children of Catherine de Medici, by Federico Zuccheri. This painting is seven hundred years old, but the colors are still fresh, and although life-size it has the exactness of a miniature. It was formerly in the Borghese collection. Ascending the marble stairway we were ushered into the "Porcelain" room, containing the most unique and valuable portion of the art treasures of the villa. There are four cabinets in the style of Louis XV, containing what is probably the best collection to be found in Europe of rare Ancienne, Porcelain de Saxe, Old Chelsea, Nymphenberg, Dresden, Meissen, Ludwigsburg, and Sèvres pieces in endless variety and bewildering richness of design. There are fans painted by Nicolas Poussin, and others by French and Italian artists of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. There is a fine portrait of the Duchess de Chevreuse by La Guillière and an original painting of Louis le Grand by Le Fèvre. A rare clock of the period of Louis XV, made about 1750, with miniature allegorical paintings, surrounded by pearls, stands upon a Louis XIV desk, ornamented with elaborate carved bronzes by Reisinger. On either side of the clock is a fine old Bohemian vase, while near by is a miniature of Napoleon by Isabey. The decoration of the room is completed by a fine old piece of Gobelin tapestry, bearing the signature of Boucher and the date 1747, originally presented by Louis XV to one of the queens of Spain. These are a few of the treasures shown to us in a very brief visit to the Villa Maria. The enthusiasm of its owner for art goes hand in hand with a love of nature. If the interior decorations have been done with the eye of a discriminating artist, no less has the exterior received the same careful attention. The fine fountain, just within the gates, the flower-beds with their well-harmonized tints, the olives and cypresses, the camellias, the cherry tree in full blossom, all add their charm to a view which would be unsurpassed even without their aid. For the villa is situated at one of the loveliest points on beautiful Como, commanding on all sides a panorama of distant mountains, with here and there a snow-capped peak, of peaceful water glistening in the warm April sun, of little white villages dotting the shores of the lake, of quaint little chapels in nooks and corners of the mountains, of peach trees and almonds adding a touch of pink to the landscape, of blue skies and fleecy clouds surmounting the whole like a brilliant canopy. No wonder that our genial host, after showing all the beauties of his palace, stood by the open window and waving his hand exclaimed, "I call this my J. M. W. Turner." But the window framed a lovelier work of art than the hand of man will ever paint. [Illustration: "I CALL THIS MY J. M. W. TURNER"] VII LITERARY LANDMARKS OF NEW ENGLAND VII LITERARY LANDMARKS OF NEW ENGLAND The quest for literary landmarks is always a fascinating pursuit, particularly to the amateur photographer who likes to take pictures that mean something. I have always found a certain exhilaration in seeing for myself and reproducing photographically the places made memorable by some favorite author. To look into the ground glass of my camera and see the reflected image of some lovely scene that has been an inspiration to poet or novelist, is like suddenly coming into possession of a prize that had ever before been thought unattainable. It brings the author of a by-gone generation into one's own time. It deepens the previous enjoyment--makes it more real. When I stand before the house in which some great author has lived, I seem to see more than a mere dwelling. The great man himself comes out to meet me, invites me in, shows me his study, presents me to his wife and children, walks with me in his garden, tells me how the surroundings of his home have influenced his literary work, and finally sends me away with a peculiar sense of intimacy. I go home, reach out my hand for a certain neglected book on my shelves, and lo! it opens as with a hidden spring, a new light glows upon its pages, and I find myself absorbed in conversation with a friend. I CONCORD For this kind of hunting I know of no better place in America than New England, and no better town in which to begin than the sleepy old village of Concord, twenty miles northwest of Boston. On the occasion of a recent visit, we walked out Monument Street and made our first stop at a point in the road immediately opposite the "Old Manse." A party of school-children were just entering. Had we been looking at the grove on the hillside, at the opposite end of the town, where Hawthorne used to walk to and fro, composing the "Tanglewood Tales," we might have supposed they had come to catch a few echoes of the famous story-teller's voice, and I should have made a photograph with the children in it. But here they did not seem so appropriate, and we waited until they had gone. When all was quiet again, it did not require a very vigorous imagination to look down the vista of black-ash trees seen between the "two tall gate-posts of rough-hewn stone," and fancy a man and woman walking arm in arm down the avenue toward the weather-stained old parsonage, its dark sides scarcely visible beneath the shadows of the overarching trees. The man is of medium height, broad-shouldered, and walks with a vigorous stride, suggesting the bodily activity of a young athlete. His hair is dark, framing with wavy curves a forehead both high and broad. Heavy eyebrows overhang a pair of dark blue eyes, that seem to flash with wondrous expressiveness, as he bends slightly to speak to the little woman at his side. His voice is low and deep, and she responds to what he is saying with an upward glance of her soft gray eyes and a happy smile that clearly suggest the sunshine which she is destined to throw into his life. Thus Nathaniel Hawthorne and Sophia Peabody, his bride, on a day in July, 1842, passed into the gloomy old house where they were to begin their honeymoon. I say "begin" because it was not like the ordinary honeymoon that ends abruptly on the day the husband first proposes to go alone on a fishing excursion. Nor was it like that of a certain "colored lady" whom I once knew. On the day following the wedding she left William to attend to his usual duties in the stable and the garden while she started on a two weeks' "honeymoon" trip to her old Virginia home, explaining afterward that she "couldn't afford to take dat fool niggah along, noway." [Illustration: THE OLD MANSE] The Hawthorne honeymoon was one of that rare kind which begins with the wedding bells and has no ending. They were married lovers all their days. Hawthorne had seen enough of solitariness in his bachelorhood to appreciate the rare companionship of his gifted wife, and he wanted nothing more. The dingy old parsonage was a Paradise to them and the new Adam and Eve invited no intrusions into their Eden. Some of their friends came occasionally, it is true, but Hawthorne records that during the next winter the snow in the old avenue was marked by no footsteps save his own for weeks at a time. And his loving wife, though she had come from the midst of a large circle of friends, found only happiness in sharing this solitude. During the three years in which Hawthorne lived in this "Old Manse," he seldom walked through the village, was known to but few of his neighbors, never went to the town-meeting, and not often to church, though he lived in a house that had been built by a minister and occupied by ministers so long that "it was awful to reflect how many sermons must have been written there." Let us peep through the windows of the parlor at the end of the dark avenue and indulge in another flight of fancy. It is an unusual day at the Manse, for two visitors have called to greet the new occupant. The elder of the two, a man in his fortieth year, is Ralph Waldo Emerson, who lives in the other end of the town in a large, comfortable, and cheery house, which we expect to see a little later. He knows the Old Manse well. His grandfather built it shortly before the outbreak of the Revolution and witnessed the battle of Concord from a window in the second story. This good man, who was the Revolutionary parson of the village, died in 1776 at the early age of thirty-three, and a few years later his widow married the Reverend Ezra Ripley, who maintained, for more than sixty years, the reputation of the Manse as a producer of sermons, being succeeded by his son, Samuel, also a minister. In October, 1834, Emerson came there with his mother and remained a year, during which he wrote his first, and one of his greatest essays, "Nature." The other visitor is Henry D. Thoreau, a young man of twenty-five, then living with the Emersons. The two guests and their host are sitting bolt upright in stiff-backed chairs. The host speaks scarcely a word except to ask, for the sake of politeness, a few formal questions, which Thoreau answers with equal brevity. Emerson alone talks freely, but his words, however much weighted with wisdom, are those of a monologuist and do not beget conversation. Yet there is something in the manner of all three that seems to betray the unspoken thought. Hawthorne's observing eyes seem to be saying, "So this is Emerson, the man who, they say, is drawing all kinds of queer and oddly dressed people to this quiet little village,--visionaries, theorists, men and women who think they have discovered a new thought, and come to him to see if it is genuine. Perhaps he might help solve some of my problems. What a pure, intellectual gleam seems to be diffused about him! With what full and sweet tones he speaks and how persuasively! How serene and tranquil he seems! How reposeful, as though he had adjusted himself, with all reverence, to the supreme requirements of life! Yet I am not sure I can trust his philosophy. Let me admire him as a poet and a true man, but I shall ask him no questions." Then while Thoreau is talking, Emerson gazes at Hawthorne and reflects: "This man's face haunts me. His manner fascinates me. I talk to him and his eyes alone answer me; and yet this seems sufficient. He does not echo my thoughts. He has a mind all his own. He says so little that I fear I talk too much. Yet he is a greater man than his words betray. I have never found pleasure in his writings, yet I cannot help admiring the man. Some day I hope to know him better. I have much to learn from him." Meanwhile Hawthorne's gaze has turned upon the younger visitor. "What a wild creature he seems! How original! How unsophisticated! How ugly he is, with his long nose and queer mouth. Yet his manners are courteous and even his ugliness seems honest and agreeable. I understand he drifts about like an Indian, has no fixed method of gaining a livelihood, knows every path in the woods and will sit motionless beside a brook until the fishes, and the birds, and even the snakes will cease to fear his presence and come back to investigate him. He is a poet, too, as well as a scientist, and I am sure has the gift of seeing Nature as no other man has ever done. Some day I must walk with him in the woods." Every man in the room loves freedom, and hates conventionalities. The ordinary formalities of polite society are unendurable. Therefore the four walls seem oppressive and the straight-back chairs produce an agonizing tension of the nerves. They are all glad when the call is over. [Illustration: WALDEN WOODS] Now let the scene change. It is winter and the river behind the house is frozen. In the glory of the setting sun, its surface seems a smooth sea of transparent gold. The edges of the stream are bordered with fantastic draperies, hanging from the overarching trees in strange festoons of purest white. Once more our three friends appear, but the four walls are gone and the wintry breeze has blown away all constraint. All three lovers of the open air are now on skates. Thoreau circles about skillfully in a bewildering series of graceful curves, for he is an expert at this form of sport and thinks nothing of skating up the river for miles in pursuit of a fox or other wild creature. Emerson finds it harder; he leans forward until his straight back seems to parallel the ice and frequently returns to the shore to rest. Hawthorne, if we may recall the words of his admiring wife, moves "like a self-impelled Greek statue, stately and grave," as though acting a part in some classic drama, yet fond of the sport and apparently indefatigable in its pursuit. Once more let the scene change. Summer has come again. The icy decorations have given place to green boughs and rushes and meadow-grass which seem to be trying to crowd the river into narrower quarters. A small boat is approaching the shore in the rear of the old house. In the stern stands a young man who guides the craft as though by instinct. With scarcely perceptible motions of the single paddle, he makes it go in whatsoever direction he wills, as though paddling were only an act of the mind. The boat is called the Musketaquid, after the Indian name of the river. Its pilot, who is also its builder, quickly reaches the shore, and we recognize the man of Nature, Thoreau. Hawthorne, who has been admiring both the boat and steersman, now steps aboard and the two friends are soon moving slowly among the lily-pads that line the margin of the river. Hawthorne is rowing. He handles the oars with no great skill, and as for paddling, it would be impossible for him to make the boat answer _his_ will. Thoreau plucks from the water a white pond-lily, and remarks that "this delicious flower opens its virgin bosom to the first sunlight and perfects its being through the magic of that genial kiss." He says he has "beheld beds of them unfolding in due succession as the sunrise stole gradually from flower to flower"; and this leads Hawthorne to reflect that such a sight is "not to be hoped for unless when a poet adjusts his inward eye to a proper focus with the outward organ." We fancy that under these conditions their talk "gushed like the babble of a fountain," as Hawthorne said it did when he went fishing with Ellery Channing. But we must not linger at the gate of the Old Manse indulging these dreams, for we have other pleasures in store. A hundred yards beyond, we turn into the bit of road, at right angles with the highway, now preserved because it was the scene of the famous Concord fight. A beautiful vista is made by the overarching of trees that have grown up since the battle, and in the distance we see the Monument, the Bridge, and the "Minute Man." The Monument marks the spot where the British soldiers stood and opened fire on the 19th of April, 1775, while the "Minute Man" stands at the place where the Americans received their order to return the fire. The Monument was dedicated on the sixty-first anniversary of the battle, Emerson offering his famous "Concord Hymn," the opening stanza of which, thirty-nine years later, was carved on the pedestal of the Minute Man, erected in commemoration of the centennial of the event:-- "By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world." The bridge is of no significance. It is a recent structure of cement, the wooden bridge over which the Minute Men charged having disappeared more than a century ago. Hawthorne took little interest in the battlefield, though he did express a desire to open the graves of the two nameless British soldiers, who lie buried by the roadside, because of a tale that one of them had been killed by a boy with an axe--a fiendish yarn which we may be glad is not authenticated. The great romancer confessed that the field between the battlefield and his house interested him far more because of the Indian arrow-heads and other relics he could pick up there--a trick he had learned from Thoreau. On our way back to the village we made a turn to the left, for a visit to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Never was such a place more appropriately named. An elliptical bowl, bordered by grassy knolls, with flowering shrubs and green groves, forms a perfect cradle among the hills in which sleep generation after generation of the inhabitants of old Concord. On the opposite side of the hollow, well up the slope of the hill and shaded by many trees, we came to the graves of the Emersons, the Thoreaus, and the Hawthornes, in neighborly proximity. The Emerson grave seemed eminently satisfactory. A rough-hewn boulder at the foot of a tall pine marks the resting-place of a strong, sincere, and unpretentious character, who lived close to Nature. By his side lies Lidian, his wife, with an inscription on her tombstone, which few, perchance, stop to read, but which ought to be read by all who can appreciate this rare tribute to a woman's worth:-- In her youth an unusual sense of the Divine Presence was granted her and she retained through life the impress of that high Communion. To her children she seemed in her native ascendancy and unquestioning courage, a Queen, a Flower in elegance and delicacy. The love and care for her husband and children was her first earthly interest but with overflowing compassion her heart went out to the slave, the sick and the dumb creation. She remembered them that were in bonds as bound with them. Thoreau's grave is not quite so satisfactory. It creates the impression that the poet and naturalist who brought fame to his family was only one of a considerable number of children and died in infancy with all the rest. It is marked with a small headstone and the single name, Henry. In the center of the lot a larger stone records the names of all the members of the family who lie buried there. The Hawthorne grave is wholly unsatisfactory. It is not easily found by a stranger, even after careful directions. The small lot is inclosed by an ugly fence, only partially concealed by a poorly kept hedge. By making an effort one can peep through and see a simple headstone with the name Hawthorne. The most conspicuous object in the inclosure is a big sign warning the public not to pluck the leaves, etc., and ending with the curt injunction, "Have respect for the living if not for the dead." The unsightly fence and the rudeness of the sign clang discordantly upon the sensibilities of those who have been taught to admire the gracious hospitality and courteous disposition of the man. We came to gaze reverently upon the grave of a man whom we had seemed to know for many years as a personal friend, but found ourselves treated with contempt as if we were merely vulgar seekers for useless souvenirs! Let us get back to the village and see the things of life. Next to the Old Manse, the most interesting house in Concord is Emerson's. It is southeast of the public square, at the point where the Cambridge Turnpike joins the Lexington Road. When Emerson bought it in 1835, it was on the outskirts of the village and not prepossessing. He said, himself, "It is in a mean place, and cannot be fine until trees and flowers give it a character of its own. But we shall crowd so many books and papers, and, if possible, wise friends into it, that it shall have as much wit as it can carry." In September of that year, Emerson went to Plymouth and was married to Miss Lydia Jackson, in a colonial mansion belonging to the bride, who suggested that they remain there. But Concord had charms which the poet could not sacrifice, so the couple established themselves in the big house at the southern edge of the village, where, ere long, the philosopher was dividing time between his study and the vegetable-garden, while Lidian, as her husband preferred to call her, set out her favorite flowers transplanted from the garden at Plymouth. [Illustration: HOUSE OF RALPH WALDO EMERSON] The first thing that strikes your eye, as you pass the Emerson house, is the row of great horse-chestnuts shading its front. Mr. Coolidge, of Boston, who built the house in 1828, remembered the lofty chestnuts of his boyhood home in Bowdoin Square and promptly set to work to duplicate them when he completed his new country house. Emerson added to his original two acres until he had nine, and planted an orchard of apple trees and pear trees, on which Thoreau did the grafting. "When I bought my farm," said Emerson, "I did not know what a bargain I had in the bluebirds, bobolinks, and thrushes, which were not charged in the bill. As little did I guess what sublime mornings and sunsets I was buying, what reaches of landscape, and what fields and lanes for a tramp." To appreciate the full extent, therefore, of Emerson's domain, we must next visit the favorite objective of his Sunday walks, Walden Pond, only a mile or two away. Walden Pond is a pretty sheet of water, about half a mile long, completely inclosed by trees, which grow very near to the water's edge. I fancy the visitors who go there may be divided into two classes: first, those who go for a swim in the cool, deep waters, as Hawthorne liked to do; and second, those who go to lay a stone upon the cairn that marks the site of Thoreau's hut. It is well worth a pilgrimage, in these days, to see the place where a man actually built a dwelling-house at a cost of $28.12½ and lived in it two years at an estimated expense of $1.09 a month. One of his extravagances was a watermelon, costing two cents, and this was classified in his summary among the "Experiments which failed!" The site of the hut was admirably chosen. It overlooks a little cove or bay, and the still surface of the pond, glimpses of which could be seen through the trees, reflecting the blue sky overhead, made a beautiful picture. We must now return to the village, for there are two more houses to be seen, both on the Lexington Road. The first is the Alcott house, now restored to something like its original condition and preserved as a memorial to the author of "Little Women." A. Bronson Alcott came to live in Concord in 1840, having visited there for the first time five years earlier. Emerson at once hailed him as "the most extraordinary man and the highest genius of his time." He marveled at the "steadiness of his vision" before which "we little men creep about ashamed." The "Sage of Concord" was too modest and time failed to justify his enthusiasm for the new neighbor. He came to admit that Alcott, though a man of lofty spirit, could not be trusted as to matters of fact; that he did not have the power to write or otherwise communicate his thoughts; and that he was like a gold-ore, sometimes found in California, "in which the gold is in combination with such other elements that no chemistry is able to separate it without great loss." Alcott was a "handy man" with tools, could construct fanciful summer-houses or transform a melodeon into a bookcase, as a piece of his handiwork in the "restored" house will testify. But in intellectual matters he fired his bullets of wisdom so far over the heads of his fellow men that they never came down, and therefore penetrated nobody's brain. This lack of practical wisdom came near bringing disaster to the family. But his daughter came to the rescue with "Little Women," a book that has had an astonishing success from the first. Originally published in 1868, it has had a circulation estimated at one million copies and is still in demand. In the winter of 1862-63, Louisa M. Alcott marched off to war, carrying several volumes of Dickens along with her lint and bandages, determined that she would not only bind up the soldiers' wounds, but also relieve the tedium of their hospital life during the long days of convalescence. When she was ready to start, Alcott said he was sending "his only son." Girl visitors to the old "Orchard house" take great delight in the haunts of Meg, Amy, Beth, and Joe, and particularly in Amy's bedroom, where the young artist's drawings on the doors and window-frames are still preserved. Just beyond the Alcott house is a pine grove on the side of a hill and then the "Wayside," Hawthorne's home for the last twelve years of his life. When Hawthorne left the Old Manse, he went to Salem, then to Lenox, and for a short time to West Newton. In the summer of 1852, he returned to Concord, having purchased the "Wayside" from Alcott. While living in Lenox he had written "The Wonder-Book," which so fascinated the children, including their elders as well, that his first task upon settling in the new home was to prepare, in response to many urgent demands, a second series of the same kind to be known as "The Tanglewood Tales." [Illustration: THE WAYSIDE] In the following spring the family sailed for Liverpool, where Hawthorne was to be the American Consul, and from this journey he did not return until 1860, seven years later. He was then at the height of his fame as the author of "The Scarlet Letter," "The House of the Seven Gables," and "The Marble Faun." As soon as his family was settled in the Wayside, he began extensive alterations, the most remarkable of which is the tower, which not only spoiled the architecture of the building, but failed, partially at least, to serve its primary purpose as a study. It was a room about twenty feet square, reached by a narrow stairway where the author could shut himself in against all intrusion. A small stove made the air stifling in winter, and the sun's rays upon the roof made it unbearable in summer. Nevertheless, Hawthorne managed to make some use of it and here he wrote "Our Old Home." I fancy he must have composed most of it while walking back and forth in the seclusion of the pine grove which he had purchased with the house. And here in this pleasant grove we must leave him for the present, while we go back to Boston and thence to Salem, to search out a few more old houses, which would fall into decay and finally disappear without notice, like hundreds of others of the same kind, but for the one simple fact that the touch of Hawthorne's presence, more than half a century ago, conferred upon these dingy old buildings a dignity and interest that draw to them annually a host of visitors from all parts of the United States. II SALEM On arrival at Salem we inquired of a local druggist whether he could direct us to any of the Hawthorne landmarks. He promptly pleaded ignorance, but referred us to an old citizen who chanced to be in the store and who admitted that he knew all about the town, having been "born and raised" there. Did he know whether there was a real "House of Seven Gables"? Well, he had heard of such a place, but it was torn down long ago. Could he direct us to the Custom House? Oh, yes, right down the street: he would show us the way. Any houses where Hawthorne had lived? Well, no,--he hadn't "followed that much." Had any of his family ever seen Hawthorne, or spoken of him? Yes--but he didn't amount to much: kind of a lazy fellow. People here didn't set much store by him. We were moving away, fearing that the old fellow would offer to accompany us and thereby spoil some of our anticipated enjoyment of the old houses, when he called after us--"Say, there's an old house right down this street that I've heard had something to do with Hawthorne. I don't know just what, but maybe the folks there can tell you. It's just this side of the graveyard." We thanked the old man, and following his directions, soon stood before an old three-story wooden house, with square front, big chimneys, and its upper windows considerably shorter than those below--a type common enough in Salem and other New England towns. It stood directly on the sidewalk and had a small, inclosed porch, with oval windows on each side, through which one could look up or down the street. In all these details it agreed exactly with Hawthorne's description of the house of Dr. Grimshawe. Adjoining it on the left was the very graveyard where Nat and little Elsie chased butterflies and played hide-and-seek among the quaint old tombstones, which had puffy little cherubs and doleful verses carved upon them. That corner room, no doubt, that overlooks the graveyard, was old Dr. Grim's study, so thickly festooned with cobwebs, where the grisly old monomaniac sat with his long clay pipe and bottle of brandy, with no better company than an enormous tropical spider, which hung directly above his head and seemed at times to be the incarnation of the Evil One himself. How could Hawthorne, in his later years, conceive such horrible suggestions in connection with a house which must have been associated in his mind with the happiest memories of his life? For here lived the Peabody family, Dr. Nathaniel Peabody and his highly cultivated wife, their three sons, only one of whom lived to maturity, and their three remarkable daughters--Elizabeth Palmer, who achieved fame as one of the foremost kindergartners of America and died at a ripe old age; Mary, who became the wife of Horace Mann; and the gentle, scholarly, and high-minded Sophia, who refused to come down to see Hawthorne, on plea of illness, the first time he called at the house, but fell in love with him at a subsequent visit. The calls were frequent enough after that, and before the family left the old house to reside in Boston, the lovers were engaged to be married. During the period of the courtship, Hawthorne lived with his mother and two sisters in a house on Herbert Street not far distant, and the two families came into close neighborly relations. Of course, we walked over to Herbert Street to find this house, but what remains of it has been remodeled into an ordinary tenement house and no longer resembles the house to which Sophia Peabody once sent a bouquet of tulips for Mr. Hawthorne, only to have it quietly appropriated by his sister Elizabeth, who thought her brother incapable of appreciating flowers, though she kindly permitted him to look at them! In the rear of this building, fronting on Union Street, is the plain, two-story-and-a-half house, with a gambrel roof, where Hawthorne was born. When the Hawthornes returned to Salem, after their residence in the Old Manse, they occupied the Herbert Street house, with Madam Hawthorne and her two daughters, Elizabeth and Louisa. This proved inconvenient for so large a family and they moved into a three-story house on Chestnut Street, well shaded by some fine old elms. This was only a temporary arrangement, and soon afterward, the family took a large three-story house on Mall Street, where the mother and sisters occupied separate apartments. Hawthorne's study was on the third floor--near enough his own family for convenience, but sufficiently remote for quiet. It was to this house that he returned one day in dejected mood and announced that he had been removed from his position at the Custom House. "Oh! then, you can write your book!" was the unexpectedly joyous reply of his wife, who knew that he had a story weighing on his mind. And then she produced the savings which she had carefully hoarded to meet just such an emergency. "The Scarlet Letter" was begun on the same day. It was to this same house that James T. Fields came in the following winter and found Hawthorne in despondent mood sitting in the upper room huddled over a small stove. The preceding half-year had been the most trying period in his life. Discouragement over the loss of his position and the prospect of meager returns for his literary work was followed by serious pecuniary embarrassment, for Mrs. Hawthorne's store of gold was, after all, a tiny one. The illness and death of his mother had left him in a nervous state from the great strain of emotion, and this was followed by the sickness of every member of the household, himself included. The story of how Fields left the house with the manuscript of "The Scarlet Letter" in his pocket is well known. The immediate success of the novel proved to be the tonic that restored the author to health and happiness, and when he left Mall Street in the following spring he was no longer the "obscurest man of letters in America." The old Salem Custom House is the best-known building in the town. As we stood before it and looked upon the great eagle above the portico, with "a bunch of intermingled thunderbolts and barbed arrows in each claw" and a "truculent attitude" that seemed "to threaten mischief to the inoffensive community," it seemed as though we might fairly expect the former surveyor, or his ghost, to open the door and walk down the old granite steps. [Illustration: THE MALL STREET HOUSE] I have already mentioned the apparent indifference toward Hawthorne of a certain old citizen of Salem--a feeling which characterizes a large part of the population, particularly those whose ancestors have lived longest in the town. One would naturally expect Salem to be proud of her most distinguished citizen, to delight in honoring him, and to extend a cordial welcome to thousands of strangers who come to pay him homage. Shakespeare is the principal asset of Stratford-on-Avon, Scott of Melrose, Burns of Ayr, and Wordsworth of the English Lakes. Every citizen is ready to talk of them. Not so of Hawthorne and Salem. The town is quite independent, and would hold up its head if there had never been any Hawthorne. The later generation, it is true, recognize his greatness, but the prejudice of the older families is sufficient to check any manifestation of enthusiasm. This old Custom House upon which we are looking furnishes the explanation. When Hawthorne took possession as surveyor, he found offices ornamented with rows of sleepy officials, sitting in old-fashioned chairs which were tilted on their hind legs against the walls. These old gentlemen made an irresistible appeal to his sense of humor, such that he could scarcely have avoided the impulse to write a description of their whimsicalities. After his "decapitation" he yielded to the impulse and prepared in the best of good humor the amusing description of his former associates in the "Introduction" to "The Scarlet Letter." It brought the wrath of Salem upon his head. These old fellows did not fancy being caricatured as "wearisome old souls," who "seemed to have flung away all the golden grain of practical wisdom which they had enjoyed so many opportunities of harvesting, and most carefully to have stored their memories with the husks." Especially enraged were the family of the Old Inspector of whom Hawthorne said nothing worse than that he remembered all the good dinners he had eaten. "There were flavors on his palate that had lingered there not less than sixty or seventy years, and were still apparently as fresh as that of the mutton chop which he had just devoured for his breakfast," said Hawthorne with fine humor. "He called one of them a pig," said a Salemite to me, indignantly. After all, Salem never really knew Hawthorne. Though the town was his birthplace, he had little liking for it, and was seldom there. During the four years of his incumbency of the Custom House, he kept aloof from the townspeople, most of whom had no knowledge whatever of his literary efforts. When the fame of "The Scarlet Letter" had made Hawthorne's name a familiar one throughout America and England, the author was no longer a resident of Salem, for immediately after the publication of his first and most famous novel, he was glad to seek relief from the gloomy memories of Mall Street in the fresh mountain air of the Berkshires. Hawthorne, though apparently glad to escape, still allowed his thought to dwell in Salem, for in the same year of the completion of "The Scarlet Letter" and his removal to Lenox, Massachusetts, he began "The House of the Seven Gables." The identity of this house has long been a matter of curiosity. Three old Salem houses, two of which have since disappeared, have been pointed out as originals, the authenticity of all of which has been denied by George Parsons Lathrop, Hawthorne's son-in-law, who maintains that the author's statement, that he built his house only of "materials long in use for constructing castles in the air," must be taken literally. It must not be supposed that an author need ever describe such a building in detail or provide for its future identification. He may do as Scott often did, put the details of three or four houses into one structure, taking his material, not "out of the air," but from recollections of many places he has seen. It does not detract from the supposed "original" to find that the author has made material, even radical, departures from the original plan. The real point of interest is to know whether the old landmark suggested anything to the author, and if so, how much. To those who follow this line of reasoning, an old house at the foot of Turner Street, now commonly known as "The House of the Seven Gables," has many points of interest. It is a weather-stained old building dating back to 1669, and contains so many gables that you are reasonably content to accept seven as the number, though I believe it has eight, not counting the one over the rear porch, recently added. The identification of this house as the one which, more than any other, suggested to Hawthorne the idea of a house of seven gables, rests upon two facts. The first is that in 1782 it came into the possession of Captain Samuel Ingersoll, whose wife was a niece of Hawthorne's grandfather. It passed, later, to their only surviving daughter, Susannah. Her portrait, which now hangs in the parlor of the old house, shows that, as a young woman, she was not unattractive. An unfortunate love affair caused her to withdraw from society and to live a life of solitude in the old house, from which all male visitors were rigidly excluded. An exception seems to have been made in favor of her cousin Nathaniel Hawthorne, who, it is said, was a frequent visitor and listened with interest to the legends of the house as told by his elder cousin. [Illustration: THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN GABLES] The second fact of identification rests upon more recent evidence. The building was purchased in 1908 by a generous resident of Salem and turned into a settlement house. This lady, who possesses the highest antiquarian instincts, determined to restore the house to its original form. In doing so she discovered traces of four gables which had been removed. These, with three that remained, made the desired seven, but, unfortunately, about the same time an old plan was unearthed which proved that the house at one time must have had eight gables! So the house has been restored to its full quota of eight. When Hawthorne was calling there it had only three gables, and his elderly kinswoman must have told traditions of the time when it had seven or eight, as the case may be. And so the question of gables becomes as bewildering as Tom Sawyer's aunt's spoons. Aside from this not very profitable speculation, the house is an interesting survival of the time when Salem was a seaport town of some importance. A secret staircase has been reconstructed according to the recollections of the man who took it down a quarter of a century ago. It opens by a secret spring in a panel of the wall in the third-story front room, now known as "Clifford's chamber," and ascends through a false fireplace in the dining-room. It will be remembered how Clifford mysteriously disappeared from his room, and as mysteriously reappeared in the parlor where Judge Pyncheon sat in the easy-chair, dead. Perhaps he came down this secret stairway, though Hawthorne forgot to mention it. A little shop, where real gingerbread "Jim Crows" are sold, makes the present "House of the Seven Gables" seem real, so that when the bell tinkles as you open the door, you would not be at all surprised if Hepzibah Pyncheon herself should appear, entering from the quaint little New England kitchen on the right. A sunny chamber upstairs now called "Phoebe's room," and a pleasant little garden in the rear, still further heighten the illusion and make one feel that if this is not the real "House of the Seven Gables," it certainly ought to be. The conditions under which "The House of the Seven Gables" was written were quite the reverse of those which brought forth "The Scarlet Letter." Instead of obscurity, ill health, and financial difficulties, the author was now in the full flush of his fame, reveling in the friendship of the most distinguished men of letters, enjoying the best of health himself, and happy in the consciousness that his dear wife was also well, and living amid the most delightful surroundings, free from care and taking no anxious thought for the morrow. The people of Salem are now preparing to make ample amends for any neglect of Hawthorne in the past. A committee of prominent citizens has been at work for several years upon a plan to erect a handsome statue upon the Common, the design for which has been made by a well-known artist, and a portion of the funds collected. With this monument before them, we may reasonably hope that future generations will be able to forgive the frankness which irritated their ancestors, though it was kindly meant, and eventually open their hearts to adopt Hawthorne as their very own, just as Stratford does Shakespeare, acknowledging the full extent of their obligation for the luster which his brilliant genius has shed upon their town. III PORTSMOUTH If Thomas Bailey Aldrich were living to-day and could enter the front door of his grandfather's house in Court Street, Portsmouth, New Hampshire, he would be likely to have a strange feeling of suddenly renewed youth, for his eyes would rest upon the same rooms and many of the same furnishings as those which greeted him in 1849, when he returned to the old house, a lad of twelve, to enter upon those happy boyish experiences so pleasantly related in "The Story of a Bad Boy." And then, as he passed from room to room and gazed once more upon the old familiar sights, he would experience a deeper and richer joy--a sense of pride, mingled with love and gratitude, for this unique and splendid tribute to his memory, from his faithful wife and many loyal friends. In the summer of 1907, following the death of Mr. Aldrich, which occurred in the spring of that year, it was suggested in a local newspaper of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, that the old Bailey house, where "Tom Bailey" lived with his "Grandfather Nutter," should be purchased by the town and refurnished as a permanent memorial to its distinguished son. The response was instant and hearty. The Thomas Bailey Aldrich Memorial Association was at once formed, and a fund of ten thousand dollars was raised by popular subscriptions, in sums varying from one dollar to one thousand dollars. The house, which had fallen into alien hands and had not been kept in good repair, was purchased and restored to its original condition, and the heirs gladly gave back all that had been taken away at the death of Grandfather Bailey. On June 30, 1908, the restored house was formally dedicated by a distinguished representation of Aldrich's friends, including Richard Watson Gilder, William Dean Howells, Hamilton Wright Mabie, Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Thomas Nelson Page, Samuel L. Clemens, and many others whose names are well known. [Illustration: THE BAILEY HOUSE] The "Nutter" house, or the "Aldrich Memorial" as it is officially known, impresses one with a sense of perfect satisfaction. I have seen memorials that are barn-like in their emptiness, so difficult has it been to secure a sufficient number of relics to furnish the rooms; others impress me like shops for the sale of souvenirs; others have the cold, touch-me-not aspect of a museum; and some are overloaded with busts, pictures, and inscriptions intended to convey an impression of the greatness of the former occupant. The Nutter house, on the contrary, looks as though Tom and his grandfather had gone off to the village an hour before, and Aunt Abigail and Kitty Collins, after "tidying" the rooms to perfection, had slipped away to gossip with the neighbors. The visitor has a feeling that real people are living there and is surprised to learn that at a certain hour each day the attendants go away and lock it up for the night. Mrs. Aldrich told us that when her husband took her there for the first time, as his bride, the old house made such a strong impression upon her mind that when she came to restore the place, many years afterward, she remembered distinctly where every piece of furniture used to stand. The perfection of her work is seen in the hundreds of little touches--the shawl thrown carelessly over the back of a chair, the fan lying on the sofa, the books on the center table, the music on the old-fashioned square piano, grandfather's Bible and spectacles on his bedroom table, the embroidered coverlet in the "blue-chintz room," the netting over Aunt Abigail's bed, the clothing in the closets, and even the night-clothes carefully laid out on each corpulent feather bed. I fancy the most loving touches of all were given to the little hall bedroom where Tom Bailey slept. There is the little window out of which Tom swung himself, with the aid of Kitty Collins's clothes-line, at the awful hour of eleven o'clock, and tumbled into a big rosebush, on the night before "the Fourth." The "pretty chintz curtain" may not be the one Tom knew, but it is very like it; and there is a very good imitation of the original wall-paper, on which Tom counted two hundred and sixty-eight birds, each individual one of which he admired, although no such bird ever existed. He knew the exact number because he once counted them when laid up with a black eye and dreamed that the whole flock flew out of the window. The little bed has "a patch quilt of more colors than were in Joseph's coat," and across it lies a clean white waistcoat waiting for Tom to put it on, as though to-morrow would be Sunday. Above the head of the bed are the two oak shelves, holding the very books that Tom loved. In front of the window is the "high-backed chair studded with brass nails like a coffin," and on the right "a chest of carved mahogany drawers" and "a looking-glass in a filigreed frame." A little swallow-tailed coat, once worn by Tom, hangs over the back of a chair, ready to be worn again. Surely Tom Bailey is expected home to-night! Even the garret is ready in case to-morrow should be stormy. "Here meet together, as if by some preconcerted arrangement, all the broken-down chairs of the household, all the spavined tables, all the seedy hats, all the intoxicated-looking boots, all the split walking-sticks that have retired from business, weary with the march of life." One slight liberty has been taken, in placing "The Rivermouth Theater" in one corner of the attic, next to Kitty Collins's room, but this may be forgiven in view of the fact that the barn, where the "Theater" really was, has disappeared. In our anxiety to see Tom's room and the attic, we have rushed upstairs somewhat too rapidly. Let us now go down and inspect the other rooms with more leisure. In the front of the house, on the second floor, and at the left of the tiny bedroom which Tom occupied, is Grandfather Nutter's room. It was too near for Tom's convenience, and that is why the young gentleman lowered himself from the window by a rope--at least, that was the reason he doubtless argued to himself in favor of the more romantic mode of exit, although as a matter of fact grandfather was a sound sleeper and Tom might have walked boldly downstairs without awakening him. Still he would have had to pass the door of Aunt Abigail's room at the head of the stairs, and if the old lady had suddenly appeared, Tom could scarcely have escaped a dose of "hot drops," which his aunt considered a certain cure for any known ailment, from a black eye to a broken arm. Aunt Abigail, it will be remembered, was the maiden sister of Captain Nutter, who "swooped down on him," at the funeral of the captain's wife, "with a bandbox in one hand and a faded blue cotton umbrella in the other." Though apparently intending to stay only a few days, she decided that her presence was indispensable to the captain, and whether he wished it or not she kept on staying for seventeen years, and might have stayed longer had not death released her from the self-imposed duty. On the right of Tom's room is "the blue-chintz room, into which a ray of sun was never allowed to penetrate." But it was "thrown open and dusted, and its mouldy air made sweet with a bouquet of pot-roses" on the occasion of Nelly Glentworth's visit, and a very delightful room Nelly must have found it, if it looked as well then as it does now, under the skillful direction of Mrs. Aldrich. Across the hall from Aunt Abigail's room is the guest chamber. An old-fashioned rocking-chair by the window, with a Bible and candle conveniently placed on a stand close by, offer the visitor every opportunity to get himself into a proper frame of mind before taking a plunge into the depths of the snow-white mountain of feathers, hospitably piled up to an enormous height for his comfort. [Illustration: "AUNT ABIGAIL'S" ROOM] Descending now to the main floor (for we are inspecting this house exactly contrary to the usual order), we step into the large corner room at our left. Here visions arise of Tom sitting disconsolately on the haircloth sofa, in the evening, driven to distraction by the monotonous click-click of Aunt Abigail's knitting-needles, but sometimes happily diverted by the spectacle of grandfather going to sleep over his newspaper and setting fire to it with the small block-tin lamp which he held in his hand. Across the hall is the parlor, which was seldom open except on Sundays, and was "pervaded by a strong smell of center table." Here again we fancy Tom sitting in one corner, "crushed." All his favorite books are banished to the sitting-room closet until Monday morning. There is nothing to do and nothing to read except Baxter's "Saint's Rest." "Genial converse, harmless books, smiles, lightsome hearts, all are banished." It was no fault of the room, however, that Tom felt doleful, for there is a fine, wide, open fireplace with big brass andirons from which a wonderful amount of cheer might have been extracted, while a piano in one corner and some shelves of books in another were capable of providing boundless entertainment, had the room been accessible on any other day than Sunday. Passing down through the hall we enter a door on the left, into the dining-room. Do you remember how Captain Nutter tormented poor Tom at the breakfast table, on the morning of the Fourth of July, by reading from the Rivermouth "Barnacle" an account of the burning of the stage-coach the night before? "Miscreants unknown," read the grandfather, while Tom's hair stood on end. "Five dollars reward offered for the apprehension of the perpetrators. Sho! I hope Wingate will catch them," continued the old gentleman, while Tom nearly ceased to breathe. And the sly old fox knew all about it and had already settled Tom's share of the damages! We now cross the hall into the kitchen, which we ought to have visited first, as everybody else does. A more delightful New England kitchen could scarcely be imagined. This was the only place where Sailor Ben felt at home--and no wonder, for how could any room have a more inviting fireplace? Here Tom sought refuge when oppressed by the atmosphere of the sitting-room and found relief in Kitty Collins's funny Irish stories. And here Sailor Ben gathered the whole family around the table while he spun his yarn "all about a man as has made a fool of hisself." This is the delightful fact about the Nutter house of to-day--every room brings back memories of Tom Bailey, Grandfather Nutter, Aunt Abigail, Kitty Collins, and Sailor Ben. The furnishings are so perfect that we should not have been surprised if any one of these old friends had suddenly confronted us. Our minds were concentrated upon their personalities and upon "The Story of a Bad Boy." The illusion is so complete that we scarcely gave a thought to the author of the tale until we entered the Memorial building at the rear. Suddenly Tom Bailey vanished and with him all the other ghosts of the old house. We stood in the presence of Thomas Bailey Aldrich, the poet, the writer of a multitude of delightful tales, and the man of genial personality. Here, in a single large room, are brought together the priceless autographs, manuscripts, first editions, and pictures which Aldrich had found pleasure in collecting. Here is the little table on which he wrote "The Story of a Bad Boy," and there are cases containing countless presents, trophies, and expressions of regard from his friends. The walls are hung with manuscripts, framed in connection with portraits of their distinguished writers, as Aldrich loved to have them. At the end of the room is a handsome oil painting of Aldrich himself. Everything tends to suggest the exquisite taste of the man, his genial nature, his varied attainments, and the extent of his wide circle of distinguished friends. Above all, the room speaks in eloquent terms of the affectionate loyalty to his memory that has led his family to bring together the material for a memorial unsurpassed in variety of interest and tasteful arrangement of details. Even the garden in the rear of the house is made to sing its song in memory of Aldrich, for here are growing all the flowers mentioned in his poetry, blending their perfumes and uniting harmoniously their richness of color in one graceful tribute to the beauty and delicacy of his verse. [Illustration: AN OLD WHARF] After living over again the scenes of "The Story of a Bad Boy," in so far as they were suggested by the Nutter house, it was only natural that we should wish to stroll about the "Old Town by the Sea" in the hope of identifying some of the out-of-door scenes of "young Bailey's" exploits. The first house on the right, as we walked toward the river, is the William Pitt Tavern. In the early days of the Revolution it was an aristocratic hotel, much frequented by the Tories, and kept by a certain astute landlord named John Stavers. He had formerly kept a tavern on State Street, known as the "Earl of Halifax," and when it became necessary to move to the newer house in Court Street, he carried sign and all with him. But the patriots, whose resort was the old Bell Tavern, kept a jealous eye on the Earl of Halifax, and in 1777 attacked it, seriously damaging the building. Master Stavers, being at heart neither Tory nor patriot, but primarily an innkeeper, promptly changed both his politics and his sign. The latter became "William Pitt," in honor of the colonists' English friend and supporter, and the thrifty landlord began to entertain the leaders of the Revolution at his house. John Hancock, Elbridge Gerry, and Edward Rutledge decorated with their autographs the pages of his register as well as the Declaration of Independence. General Knox was a frequent visitor and Lafayette came there in 1882. Moreover, the old tavern has had the honor of entertaining the last of the French kings, Louis Philippe, who came there with his two brothers during the French Revolution, and the first American President, who was a guest in 1789. All this glory had long since departed in Aldrich's day, and his chief interest in the old tavern lay in the fact that he could climb up the dingy stairs to the top floor and listen for hours to the stories of the olden times, as told by Dame Jocelyn, with whom, as she asserted, Washington had flirted just a little, though in a "stately and highly finished manner"! Continuing down the street, we found the empty old warehouses and rotting wharves among which Aldrich spent so many hours of his boyhood, and we took a picture of one old crumbling dock, which we felt sure must have been very like the one upon which the boys of the Rivermouth Centipedes fired a broadside from "Bailey's Battery." The old abandoned guns, twelve in all, were cleaned out, loaded, provided with fuses, and set off mysteriously at midnight, much to the astonishment of the Rivermouthians, who thought the town was being bombarded or that the end of the world had come. The old wharf possessed a singular fascination for me because I still recall how vividly the incident impressed me in my boyhood and how fervently I envied Tom Bailey his unusual opportunities. Nor did it mar my enjoyment in the least to learn that the wharf I was looking at was not the right place, the real one, where the guns were stored, having been removed some time ago. It was near the Point of Graves, the spot where the boys went in bathing and where Binny Wallace's body was washed ashore after the ill-fated cruise of the Dolphin. The real Binny, by the way, was not drowned at all. The author, here, deviated from the facts to make his story more dramatic. Point of Graves takes its name from the old burying-ground, occupying a triangular space near the river's edge. It has quaint old tombstones dating back as far as 1682, with curious epitaphs, skulls, and cherubs carved upon them. Here is the place where Tom Bailey, disappointed in love and determined to become "a blighted being," used to lie in the long grass, speculating on "the advantages and disadvantages of being a cherub"--the disadvantages being that the cherub, having only a head and wings, could not sit down when he was tired and could not possess trousers pockets! A stroll through this part of the town, which in olden times was the center of its trade and commerce, is like walking through some of the old English villages. Every house, nearly, has its history, and I fancy the streets have not greatly changed their appearance since the days of Aldrich's boyhood. On the corner of Fleet and State Streets we came to an old house, which has an interesting connection with our story. A part of it was occupied as a candy store for nearly sixty years. On the Fourth of July, after Tom had treated the boys to root-beer, a single glass of which "insured an uninterrupted pain for twenty-four hours," they came here for ice-cream. It is said that one of the ringleaders subsequently celebrated every third of July, until his death, by eating ice-cream in the same room. The story was based upon an incident that really happened in 1847, in which, of course, Aldrich could have had no part, as he was not then living in Portsmouth. I am inclined to doubt whether the real event was half so delightful as the tale which Aldrich tells, of the twelve sixpenny ice-creams, "strawberry and verneller mixed," and how poor Tom was left to pay for the whole crowd, who slipped out of the window while he was in another room ordering more cream! No doubt we might have coupled many other places in Portsmouth with "The Story of a Bad Boy"--for it is a very real story, though not to be taken literally in every detail. It is interesting to think of the town, also, as the scene of "Prudence Palfrey." The old Bell Tavern, where Mr. Dillingham boarded, ceased to exist as a public house in 1852 and was destroyed by fire fifteen years later. It is pleasant also to follow Aldrich in a walk through the streets, with a copy of "An Old Town by the Sea" for a guide, and note all the fine old houses he so charmingly describes. But we must not devote our entire time to Aldrich, for an older poet has a slight claim to our attention. The opening scene of Longfellow's "Lady Wentworth," in the "Tales of a Wayside Inn," is laid in State Street. "One hundred years ago and something more, In Queen Street, Portsmouth, at her tavern door,"-- is the way the poem opens. Queen Street was the old name for State Street, and the tavern was the old Earl of Halifax before Master Stavers carried the sign over to the new house in Court Street. It has long since disappeared. It was before this house that the barefooted and ragged little beauty, Martha Hilton, was rebuked by Dame Stavers for appearing on the street half-dressed and looking so shabby, to which she quickly replied:-- "No matter how I look: I yet shall ride In my own chariot, ma'am." The house to which she did drive in her own chariot, many a time in later days, as the wife of Governor Wentworth, is one of the most pleasantly situated of all the houses in Portsmouth. It is at Little Harbor, on one of the many peninsulas that jut out into the Piscataqua, below the town, and commands a fine view of the beautiful river and its many islands. The house is a large wooden building containing forty-five rooms, though originally it had fifty-two. Architecturally it is unattractive, external beauty of design having been sacrificed to utility. "Within, unwonted splendors met the eye, Panels and floors of oak, and tapestry; Carved chimney pieces, where on brazen dogs Reveled and roared the Christmas fires of logs." The historic building, with its great Chamber where the Governor and his Council met for their deliberations, still remains in almost its original state. One could spend many days in Portsmouth investigating its connection with the history of the country, from the early explorations in 1603 of Martin Pring and the visit in 1614 of Captain John Smith, down through the settlements of David Thomson and Captain John Mason, the Indian wars and massacres, the incidents of the Revolution, and the rise and fall of the town's commerce, and find plenty of old landmarks to give zest to the pursuit. But our search, at present, is for literary landmarks. We, therefore, take passage on the little steamer that plies to and from the Isles of Shoals for a pilgrimage to the Island Garden of Celia Thaxter. IV THE ISLES OF SHOALS It is a pleasant sail down the Piscataqua, past the old "slumberous" wharves, where "the sunshine seems to lie a foot deep in the planks"; past the long bridges; the numerous clusters of islands; the white sails of the yacht club, hovering like gulls about the huge battleships, moored to the docks of the navy yard; the ruins of Fort Constitution, formerly Fort William and Mary, famed in history, but more interesting to us as the place where Prudence Palfrey came near surrendering her heart to the infamous Dillingham; the ancient town of Newcastle with its old-fashioned dwellings mingling with pretty new summer cottages, the whole dominated by the white walls of a huge hotel; Kittery Point, birthplace of Sir William Pepperell, the famous Governor and Indian fighter: and at last, the broad Atlantic, stretching to the eastward with nothing to obstruct the view save a few tiny specks, dimly visible in the distance. These are the Isles of Shoals, looking so small that they seem to be only rocks jutting a few feet above the sea, upon which it would be impossible to land. As we approach Appledore, the islands still seem to be only a cluster of barren rocks, with a few scattered buildings. The charm which they undoubtedly exert upon those who come year after year does not immediately manifest itself to the stranger. He must spend a night there, breathing the pure sea air, watching in the early evening the glistening lights on the far-off shore, and finally falling asleep to dream that he is in mid-ocean, on one of the steadiest of steamers, enjoying the luxury of absolute rest, for which there is no better prescription than an ocean voyage. In the morning, he must walk around the island--it can be done in an hour or two--threading the narrow paths through the huckleberry bushes and picking his way over the high rocks that present their front to the full force of the waves, on the side of Appledore that faces the sea. Here he will see artists spreading their easels and canvases for a day's work and less busy people settling down in various shady nooks, to read, to chat, to knit, to dream. To get the real spirit of the islands it is advisable to find one of these quiet nooks and read Celia Thaxter's "Among the Isles of Shoals," a book of sketches for which the author needlessly apologizes, but of which Mrs. Annie Fields says, "She portrays, in a prose which for beauty and wealth of diction has few rivals, the unfolding of sky and sea and solitude and untrammeled freedom, such as have been almost unknown to civilized humanity in any age of the world." Celia Thaxter is herself the Spirit of the Isles of Shoals, and if we are to know and love them, we must take her as our guide. She will be found an efficient one and there is no other. [Illustration: CELIA THAXTER'S COTTAGE] With this purpose in mind, we began our tour of the islands, book in hand, stopping first at the cottage of Mrs. Thaxter. One room is maintained somewhat as she left it, with every square foot of wall space covered by her pictures. But the flower-garden is sadly neglected. Only the vines that still clamber over the porch, and a few hollyhocks that stubbornly refuse to die, remain to suggest the dooryard where the garden flowers used to "fairly run mad with color." The salt air and some peculiar richness of the soil seem to impart unusual brilliancy to the blossoms and strength to the roots of all kinds of flowers, whether wild or cultivated. Celia Thaxter was one of those people for whom flowers will grow. They responded with blushing enthusiasm to the constant manifestations of her love and tender care. Flowers have a great deal of humanity about them after all. They refuse to display their real luxuriance for cold, careless, or indifferent people, just as babies and dogs know how to distinguish between those who love them and those who love only themselves. "More dear to me than words can tell Was every cup and spray and leaf; Too perfect for a life so brief Seemed every star and bud and bell." Celia Thaxter loved her flowers with a devotion born of the hours of solitude when they were her sole companions. "The little spot of earth on which they grow is like a mass of jewels. Who shall describe the pansies, richly streaked with burning gold; the dark velvet coreopsis and the nasturtiums; the larkspurs, blue and brilliant as lapis-lazuli; the 'ardent marigolds' that flame like mimic suns? The sweet peas are of a deep, bright rose-color, and their odor is like rich wine, too sweet almost to be borne, except when the pure fragrance of mignonette is added,--such mignonette as never grows on shore. Why should the poppies blaze in such imperial scarlet? What quality is hidden in this thin soil, which so transfigures all the familiar flowers with fresh beauty?" Unfortunately, the mysterious quality hidden in the soil, assisted by the warm sunshine and the salt air, with all their powers could not maintain the island garden after the loving hands of its owner were withdrawn, and the little inclosure is now a mass of weeds. Celia Laighton was brought to the Isles of Shoals as a child of five, and lived with her parents in a little cottage on White Island where her father was the keeper of the lighthouse. She grew to womanhood in the companionship of the rocks, the spray of the ocean, the seaweeds, the shells and the miniature wild life she discovered among them, the tiny wild flowers which her sharp young eyes could find in the most secret crannies, and the marigolds, "rich in color as barbaric gold," which she early learned to cultivate in "a scrap of garden literally not more than a yard square." She shouted a friendly greeting to the noisy gulls and kittiwakes that fluttered overhead, chased the sandpipers along the gravelly beach, made friends and neighbors of the crabs, the sea-spiders and land-spiders, the sea-urchins, the grasshoppers and crickets, and set in motion armies of sandhoppers, that jumped away like tiny kangaroos when she lifted the stranded seaweed. And then the birds came to see her. The swallows gathered fearlessly upon the window-sills and built their nests in the eaves, seeming to know that the loving eyes watching their movements could mean no evil. Now and then a bobolink, an oriole, or a scarlet tanager would be seen. The song sparrows came in flocks to be fed every morning. With them, at times, came robins and blackbirds, and occasionally yellowbirds and kingbirds. Sometimes, in hazy weather, they would fly against the glass of the lighthouse with fatal results. "Many a May morning," says Mrs. Thaxter, "have I wandered about the rock at the foot of the tower mourning over a little apron brimful of sparrows, swallows, thrushes, robins, fire-winged blackbirds, many-colored yellowbirds, nuthatches, catbirds, even the purple finch and scarlet tanager and golden oriole, and many more beside--enough to break the heart of a small child to think of." It is no wonder that such a sympathetic soul could even summon the birds to keep her company--as she frequently did with the loons. "I learned to imitate their different cries; they are wonderful! At one time the loon language was so familiar that I could almost always summon a considerable flock by going down to the water and assuming the neighborly and conversational tone which they generally use: after calling a few minutes, first a far-off voice responded, then other voices answered him, and when this was kept up a while, half a dozen birds would come sailing in. It was the most delightful little party imaginable; so comical were they that it was impossible not to laugh aloud." To her love of birds and flowers, Mrs. Thaxter added a love of the sea itself, finding delight equally in the sparkle of the calm waves of summer or the wild beating of the surf in winter. She developed a marvelous ear for the music of the sea--something akin to that which enables John Burroughs to name a bird correctly from its notes, even when the songster is trying to imitate the call of another bird as the little impostors sometimes do. She says: "Who shall describe that wonderful voice of the sea among the rocks, to me the most suggestive of all the sounds in nature? Each island, every isolated rock, has its own peculiar note, and ears made delicate by listening, in great and frequent peril, can distinguish the bearings of each in a dense fog." Equally well did she know humanity. The daily life of the fishermen, the kind and quantity of the fish they caught, the adventures they experienced, the stories they told, the hardships they endured, the little domestic tragedies that now and then took place in their humble cottages, the sufferings from illness or accident, were all matters of everyday knowledge to her and enlisted her profound sympathy. Everything in nature appealed to her--the sea and sky, the sunrise and the sunset, the winds and storms, the birds and flowers, the butterflies and insects, the sea-shells and kelp, the fishes and all the lower forms of life--all were objects of careful observation in which she took delight; and to these must be added a deep interest in humanity, particularly of the kind which she met in fishermen's cottages, where her good common sense and knowledge of simple remedies enabled her to render, again and again, a service in time of need when no other assistance could be obtained. Such was the unique character whose spirit dominates the islands even to-day,--a lover of nature worthy to stand with Gilbert White, Thoreau, or Burroughs, a poet, an artist, a friendly neighbor, and a womanly woman. It was a part of our good fortune to have the actual guidance in our tour of the islands of the only surviving brother of Mrs. Thaxter, Mr. Oscar Laighton. In his little motor boat he took us to the tiny island known as Londoners, where for many winters he was the sole inhabitant. Although advancing years have now made it inexpedient for him to live in solitude, the little cottage still remains ready for occupancy at any moment. We stepped inside expecting to see, in so desolate a spot, only such rude furnishings as might be found in some mountain cabin or hunter's lodge. To our astonishment we found it a veritable little bower, a model of neatness and order, and every room, including the kitchen, filled with well-chosen pictures and books, as though some dainty fairy, of literary tastes, had planned it for her permanent abode. Among the highly prized ornaments were many pieces of china, painted by Mrs. Thaxter. To our minds, the most valuable article in the house--valuable because of the lesson it teaches--is a typewritten card, hanging conspicuously over the kitchen stove, with this cordial greeting to the uninvited guest:-- "Welcome to any one entering this house in shipwreck or trouble. You will find matches in the box on the mantel. The key to the wood-house is in this box. Start a fire in the stove and make yourself comfortable. There are some cans of food on shelf in the pantry. Blankets will be found in the chamber on lower floor. There is a dory ready to launch in the boat-house." Three times have shipwrecked men entered the house and taken advantage of this kindly welcome. Our next visit was to White Island, where, after much difficulty in getting ashore, we climbed to the top of the lighthouse. This is a very different structure from the old wooden building of Celia Thaxter's childhood and only a small part of the original dwelling remains. But the landing is very much as she describes it. "Two long and very solid timbers about three feet apart are laid from the boat-house to low-water mark, and between those timbers the boat's bow must be accurately steered.... Safely lodged in the slip, as it is called, she is drawn up into the boat-house by a capstan, and fastened securely." Our boat was not drawn up, and we had to walk up the steep, slippery planks--with what success I shall not attempt to describe. Here, at night, the little Celia used to sit, with a lantern at her feet, waiting in the darkness, without fear, for the arrival of her father's boat, knowing that the "little star was watched for, and that the safety of the boat depended in a great measure upon it." Haley's Island, or "Smutty Nose," as it was long ago dubbed by the sailors because of its long projecting point of black rocks, lies between Appledore and Star Island. Of the two houses now remaining, one is the original cottage of Samuel Haley, an energetic and useful citizen, who once owned the island. Nearby fourteen rude and neglected graves tell a pathetic tale. The Spanish ship Sagunto was wrecked on Smutty Nose, during a severe snowstorm on a January night. The shipwrecked sailors saw the light in Haley's cottage and crept toward it, benumbed with cold and overcome with the horror and fatigue of their experience. Two reached the stone wall in front of the house, but were too weak to climb over, and their bodies were discovered the next morning, frozen to the stones. Twelve other bodies were found scattered about the island. How gladly the old man would have given these poor sailors the warmth and comfort of his home could he have known the tragedy that was happening while he slept soundly only a few yards away! Star Island, once the site of the village of Gosport, was in early days the most important of the group. Before the Revolution a settlement of from three to six hundred people carried on the fisheries of the island, catching yearly three or four thousand quintals of fish. All this business is now a thing of the past. The great shoals of mackerel and herring, from which the islands took their name, have disappeared--driven away or killed by the steam trawlers. The old families departed long since, and new ones have never come to take their places, save a few lobster fishermen, who with difficulty eke out a bare living. A quaint little church of stone is perched upon the highest rocks of Star Island, but I fear the attendance is small, even in the summer time. We found our way back to Appledore, content to spend the remaining days of our visit on this the largest and most inviting of the group. "A common island, you will say; But stay a moment; only climb Up to the highest rock of the isle, Stand there alone for a little while, And with gentle approaches it grows sublime, Dilating slowly as you win A sense from the silence to take it in." Lowell was right. The greatest charm of the islands is felt when you stand on "the highest rock of the isle," looking out upon the ever sparkling sea that stretches "Eastward as far as the eye can see-- Still Eastward, eastward, endlessly"; and feeling the restful quietude of the spot. I fancy Celia Thaxter stood upon this rock when she sang-- "O Earth! thy summer song of joy may soar Ringing to heaven in triumph. I but crave The sad, caressing murmur of the wave That breaks in tender music on the shore." [Illustration: APPLEDORE] VIII A DAY WITH JOHN BURROUGHS VIII A DAY WITH JOHN BURROUGHS "Oh, everybody here calls him Uncle John," was the quick reply to one of my queries of the man who drove me to the country house of John Burroughs, near Roxbury, New York. He had been saying many pleasant things about the distinguished naturalist, dwelling particularly upon his kind heart and genial nature. I noticed that he never referred to him as "Dr." Burroughs, nor "Mr." Burroughs, nor even as "Burroughs," but always as "John" or "good old John," or most often, "Uncle John." So I asked by what name the people called him, and the answer seemed to me the most sincere compliment that could have been paid. When a man has received many honorary degrees which the great universities have felt proud to confer, it is an indication that those most competent to judge have appreciated his intellectual attainments or public services, or both. When the people of his native village bestow upon him the title of "Uncle," it is an indication that the achievement of fame has not eclipsed the lovable qualities in his character nor dimmed the affectionate regard of the neighbors who have learned to know him as a man. There is a certain friendliness implied in the title of "Uncle," while it also suggests respect. If you live in a small town you call everybody by his first name. But one of your number becomes famous. To call him "John" seems too familiar. It implies that you do not properly appreciate his attainments. To call him "Mister" or "Doctor" seems to make a stranger of him, and you would not for the world admit that he is not still your friend. "Uncle" is often a happy compromise, particularly if he still retains the neighborly qualities of his less distinguished years. I do not know that the people of Roxbury ever followed this line of reasoning, but it does seem quite appropriate that they should call their most distinguished fellow citizen "Uncle John." He was born on a farm near this little village in the Catskills on the 3d of April, 1837, in the very time of the return of the birds. Perhaps this is why he is so fond of them and particularly of Robin Redbreast, that fine old-fashioned democrat, who is one of his prime favorites. He spent his boyhood here, and now, in the fullness of his years, quietly returns each summer to the old familiar haunts, living the same simple life as of yore, except that the pen is now his tool instead of the farming implements. The little red schoolhouse, where Burroughs and Jay Gould went to school together, may still be seen in the valley, standing in the open country with one of those rounded hilltops in the background which form the characteristic feature of the Catskills. Near by is the Gould birthplace, now a comfortable-looking farmhouse, glistening with a fresh coat of white paint. "Take away the porch and the back extension, and the top story and the paint," said my driver, "and you will have the original 'birthplace.'" He said that when he first began the livery business in Roxbury many people came to see the birthplace of Jay Gould, but no one mentioned Burroughs. Now it is just the other way, and the number of visitors increases yearly, all anxious to see the home of the famous philosopher. Yet these two men, one of whom seems to have belonged to the generations of the past while the other is a part of the ever-living present, were boys together in the same schoolhouse more than sixty years ago. As my conveyance drew up to the door, Mr. Burroughs came out with a hearty welcome. He was alone, for during the summer, when he retires to this place for work, he prefers to do his own housekeeping in his own way. "I am a good cook," said he, "but a poor housekeeper." I did not agree with the latter part of the statement, for as I looked around I thought he had about all he needed and everything was clean. Moreover, things were where he could get at them, and from a man's point of view what better housekeeping could anybody want? The house which he now occupies is a plain-looking farmhouse, built in 1869 by Mr. Burroughs's elder brother. Its most distinctive feature is the rustic porch, a recent addition, which serves the purposes of living-room, library, and bedroom. Mr. Burroughs is a believer in fresh air and during the summer likes to sleep out of doors. He has a rustic table, covered with favorite books. When he is not at work, he likes to sit on the porch and enjoy what he calls "the peace of the hills." Across the road there is a field, broad and long and crossed by numerous stone walls. In the distance are the hills of his well-loved Catskills, their smoothly undulating lines giving a sense of repose. At the right of the house I noticed a small patch of green corn, in front of which were some rambling cucumber vines. In the rear and at the left were a few old apple trees, and farther back, capping the summit of a ridge, a fine grove of trees, standing in orderly array, like an army ready for action. Mr. Burroughs has named the place, in characteristic fashion, "Woodchuck Lodge," "because," he said, "I can sit here and count the woodchucks, sometimes eight or ten at a time." [Illustration: JOHN BURROUGHS AT WOODCHUCK LODGE] Not wishing to interfere with his plans, I expressed the hope that I was not interrupting him, when he quickly replied, "O, my work for to-day is all done. I rise at six and usually do all my writing before noon." "You are like Sir Walter Scott, then," said I, "who always began early and, as he said, 'broke the neck of the day's work' before the family came down to breakfast and was 'his own man before noon.'" "Ah, he was a wonderful man," replied Mr. Burroughs. Then, after a pause and with a little sigh--"I wish I could invest these hills with romance as he did the hills of Scotland." "But you _have_ invested them with romance," I said, "although of a different kind." "Yes," he replied, with brightening eyes, "with the romance of humanity and of nature, the only kind to which they are entitled." I could not help thinking how wonderfully like Wordsworth this seemed. The romance of humanity and nature! Is it not this, which, since Wordsworth's time, has given a new charm to the hills and valleys of Westmoreland and Cumberland, causing every visitor to seek the dwelling-places of the poet? And are not those who spend their summers in the Catskills finding a new delight in those beautiful mountains because of the spell which John Burroughs has thrown upon them? Wordsworth wrote the history of his own mind and called it "The Prelude," intending it to be but the introduction to a greater poem to be entitled "The Recluse," which should be a broad presentation of his views on Man, Nature, and Society. "The Excursion" was to be the second part, but the third was never written. He conceived that this great work would be like a Gothic church, the main body of which would be represented by "The Recluse," while "The Prelude" would be but the ante-chapel. All his other poems, when properly arranged, would then be "likened to the little cells, oratories, and sepulchral recesses, ordinarily included in those edifices." Burroughs is far too modest to compare his writings to a cathedral, but he has nevertheless, like Wordsworth, written himself into nearly all of them. Following the English poet's simile in a modified form, we may think of the product of his pen, not as a cathedral, but as a mansion of many rooms, each furnished with beautiful simplicity and charming taste to represent some different phase of the author's mind, and each equipped, so to speak, with a mirror, possessing all the magic but without the unpleasant duty of the one in Hawthorne's tale, so arranged as to reflect the very soul of its builder with perfect fidelity. So sincere is Burroughs that you feel certain he is constantly revealing his true self. Therefore, when he praises Wordsworth as the English poet who has touched him more closely than any other, you begin to realize the bond of sympathy. When he says that Wordsworth's poetry has the character of "a message, special and personal to a comparatively small circle of readers," you know that he is one of the few who have taken the message to heart. Wordsworth's love of Nature was of the same kind as the American poet's. "Nature," says Burroughs, "is not to be praised or patronized. You cannot go to her and describe her; she must speak through your heart. The woods and fields must melt into your mind, dissolved by your love for them. Did they not melt into Wordsworth's mind? They colored all his thoughts; the solitude of those green, rocky Westmoreland fells broods over every page. He does not tell us how beautiful he finds Nature, and how much he enjoys her; he makes us share his enjoyment." Substitute Burroughs for Wordsworth, and Catskill for Westmoreland, and you have in this passage a fine statement of the reason why John Burroughs is winning the gratitude of more and more people every year. Wordsworth thought of Nature as an all-pervading Presence, something mysterious and sublime, a supreme Being,-- "The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul Of all my moral being." Burroughs does not rise to such ethereal heights, but recognizes that the passion for Nature is "a form of, or closely related to, our religious instincts." He lives closer to Nature than Wordsworth ever did. His knowledge of her secrets is far deeper and more intimate. He is a naturalist and scientist, as well as a man of poetic temperament. He has a trained eye that sees what others would miss. "There is a great deal of byplay going on in the life of Nature about us," he says, "a great deal of variation and outcropping of individual traits, that we entirely miss unless we have our eyes and ears open." Probably no other man has a keener ear for the music of the birds. He possesses that "special gift of grace," to use his own expression, that enables one to hear the bird-songs. Not only can he distinguish the various species by their songs, but he instantly recognizes a new note. He once detected a robin, singing with great spirit and accuracy the song of the brown thrasher, and on another occasion followed a thrush for a long time because he recognized three or four notes of a popular air which the bird had probably learned from some whistling shepherd boy. He loves to put words into the mouths of the birds to fit their songs and to fancy conversations between husband and wife upon their nest. The sensitiveness of his ear for bird-music is wonderfully illustrated in his story of a new song which he heard on Slide Mountain in the Catskills. "The moment I heard it, I said, 'There is a new bird, a new thrush,' for the quality of all the thrush songs is the same. A moment more and I knew it was Bicknell's thrush. The song is in a minor key, finer, more attenuated, and more under the breath than that of any other thrush. It seemed as if the bird was blowing into a delicate, slender, golden tube, so fine and yet so flute-like and resonant the song appeared. At times it was like a musical whisper of great sweetness and power." I do not believe that Wordsworth or any other poet, however passionate his love of Nature, ever heard such a bird-song or could describe its qualities with so keen a discernment. Mr. Burroughs made me think of Wordsworth again when, as we sat looking over toward the Catskills, he explained his residence at Woodchuck Lodge by referring to his enjoyment of the open country and the peace and quiet of the scene. For, says Wordsworth,-- "What want we? Have we not perpetual streams, Warm woods, and sunny hills, and fresh green fields And mountains not less green, and flocks and herds And thickets full of songsters, and the voice Of lordly birds, an unexpected sound Heard now and then from morn to latest eve, Admonishing the man who walks below Of solitude and silence in the sky?" After an hour of pleasant conversation my host arose, saying he would build his fire and we would have our dinner. In due course we sat down to a repast that would have gladdened the heart of General Grant himself. The old veteran, as many will remember, after his return from a tour of triumph around the world, in which he had been banqueted by kings and emperors, dukes, millionaires, and public societies, once slipped into a farmer's kitchen for a dinner of corned beef and cabbage, declaring that he was glad to get something good to eat. Our meal did not consist of corned beef and cabbage, but of corn cakes, made of fresh green corn plucked not a couple of yards from the kitchen door and baked on a griddle by one of the foremost literary men of America. There were other good things, plenty of them, but those delicious cakes with maple syrup of the genuine kind exactly "touched the spot," as old-fashioned folks used to say. Mine host must have noticed the unusual demands upon his crop of corn and marveled to see the rapid disappearance of the cakes, but he did not seem displeased. On the contrary, as he brought in, time after time, a fresh pile of the steaming flapjacks, his face beamed with the smile that betokens genuine hospitality. Our conversation at table was mostly on politics, in which Mr. Burroughs takes keen interest and upon which he is a man of decided convictions; but this is a subject which he must be allowed to elucidate in his own way. [Illustration: JOHN BURROUGHS AT WORK] After dinner, Mr. Burroughs laughingly remarked that his study was the barn, and we walked up the road to visit it. "I cannot bear to be cramped by the four walls of a room," said he, "so I have moved out to the barn. I enjoy it greatly. The birds and the small animals come to see me every day and often sit and talk with me. The woodchucks and chipmunks, the blue jays and the hawks, all look in at me while I am at work. A red squirrel often squats on the stone wall and scolds me, and the other day an old gray rabbit came. He sat there twisting his nose like this" (here Mr. Burroughs twisted his own nose in comical fashion), "and seemed to be saying saying-- 'By the pricking of my thumbs Something wicked this way comes.'" Arrived at the barn, Mr. Burroughs seated himself at his "desk." With twinkling eyes he explained that it was an old hen-coop. The inside was stuffed with hay to keep his feet warm, and if the weather happens to be chilly, he wears a blanket over his shoulders. A market-basket contains his manuscript and a few books complete the equipment. The desk is just inside the wide-open doors of the barn, and he sits with his face to the light. "There is a broad outlook from a barn door," said he, smilingly. Beyond the low stone wall, where his animal friends seat themselves for the daily conversations, is an apple orchard, and in the distance are the rounded summits of the Catskills--a view as peaceful and refreshing as the one from the house. Here Mr. Burroughs is never lonely. One day a junco, or slate-colored snowbird, came on a tour of inspection. She decided to build her nest in the hay. She scorned all the materials so close at hand and brought everything from outside. Her instinct had taught her to find certain materials for a nest, and she could not suddenly learn to make use of the convenient hay. Mr. Burroughs, in speaking of this, told me of a phoebe who built her nest over the window of his house. She brought moss to conceal it, but as the moss did not match the color of the house, she succeeded only in making her nest more conspicuous. Since the evolution of the species, phoebes have built their nests on the sides of cliffs, using moss of the color of the rocks to conceal them. The little bird who, like the junco, followed her instincts, failed to note the difference between the house and the rocks. In conversation of this kind, Mr. Burroughs turned the hours into minutes, and I was surprised to look up and see the team approaching which was to carry me away. After a reluctant farewell, we drove over the brow of a hill and stopped for a few moments before the farmhouse which was the birthplace of John Burroughs. A comical incident took place. It was raining hard when we arrived and we drove into the barn, directly across the road from the house. An old dog and a young one were here, keeping themselves dry from the shower. I set up my camera in the barn, to take a picture of the house. As I did so, I noticed the old dog walk deliberately out in the rain and perch himself upon the doorstep, where he turned around once or twice as if trying to strike the right attitude. This point determined, he stood perfectly still until I had taken the picture, and when I started to put away the camera, came trotting back to the barn. I do not know what instinct, if any, prompted the dog to wish his picture to be taken, but he was no more foolish than many people,--men, women, and children,--who have insisted upon getting into my pictures, though they knew there was no possibility of their ever seeing them. Mr. Burrough's permanent home is at West Park, on the Hudson River, a few miles south of Kingston. Here he has a farm mostly devoted to the cultivation of grapes. He occupies a comfortable stone house, pleasantly situated and nearly surrounded by trees of various kinds. Back of the house and near the river is the study or den, a little rustic building on the slope of the hill, where Mr. Burroughs can write undisturbed by the business of the farm. The walls are partly lined with bookshelves, well crowded with favorite volumes. Near by is a small rustic summer house from which a delightful view of the river may be seen for miles to the north and to the south. This is why the place is called "Riverby"--simply "by-the-river." It has been the author's home for many years. Even the study, however, did not satisfy Mr. Burroughs's longing for quiet, and so he built another retreat about a mile and a half west of the village which he calls "Slabsides." It is reached by walking up a hill and passing through a bit of hemlock woods which I found quite charming. Slabsides is a rustic house like many camps in the Adirondacks. It is roughly built, but sufficiently comfortable, and has a pleasant little porch, at the entrance to which a climbing vine gives a picturesque effect which is greatly enhanced by a stone chimney, now almost completely clothed with foliage. It is in an out-of-the-way hollow of the woods where nobody would be likely to come except for the express purpose of visiting Mr. Burroughs. For several summers this was his favorite retreat. He would walk over from his home at Riverby and stay perhaps two or three weeks at a time, doing his own cooking and housekeeping. Of late years, however, Slabsides has been less frequently used, Woodchuck Lodge having received the preference. All of these abodes, whether you see them within or without, reveal the secret of John Burroughs's strength. They coincide with his personal appearance, his dress, his conversation, his manner. It is the strength of absolute simplicity. Everything is sincere. Nothing is superfluous. There is no such thing as "putting on airs." Fame and popularity have not spoiled him. He is genuine. You feel it when you see his workshops. You know it when you meet the man. Mr. Charles Wagner, the apostle of "the simple life," has said, "All the strength of the world and all true joy, everything that consoles, that feeds hope, or throws a ray of light along our dark paths, everything that makes us see across our poor lives a splendid goal and a boundless future, comes to us from people of simplicity, those who have made another object of their desires than the passing satisfaction and vanity, and have understood that the art of living is to know how to give one's life." John Burroughs is one of these "people of simplicity," and his contribution to our happiness lies in his rare power of bringing to his reader something of his own enjoyment of Nature--an enjoyment which he has been able to obtain only through the living of a simple life. He is the complete embodiment of Emerson's "forest seer":-- "Many haps fall in the field Seldom seen by wishful eyes; But all her shows did Nature yield, To please and win this pilgrim wise. He saw the partridge drum in the woods; He heard the woodcock's evening hymn; He found the tawny thrushes' broods; And the shy hawk did wait for him; What others did at distance hear, And guessed within the thicket's gloom, Was shown to this philosopher And at his bidding seemed to come." IX GLIMPSES OF THE YELLOWSTONE IX GLIMPSES OF THE YELLOWSTONE The Yellowstone National Park is Nature's jewel casket, in which she has kept her choicest gems for countless generations. Securely sheltered by ranges of rugged mountains they have long been safe from human depredations. The red man doubtless knew of them, but superstition came to the aid of Nature and held him awe-struck at a safe distance. The first white man who came within sight of these wonders a century ago could find no one to believe his tales, and for a generation or two the region of hot springs and boiling geysers which he described was sneeringly termed "Colter's Hell." Only within the last half-century have the generality of mankind been permitted to view these precious jewels, and even then jealous Nature, it would seem, did not consent to reveal her treasures until fully assured that they would have the protection of no less powerful a guardianship than that of the National Government. On the 18th of September, 1870, a party of explorers, headed by General Henry D. Washburn, then Surveyor-General of Montana, emerged from the forest into an open plain and suddenly found themselves not one hundred yards away from a huge column of boiling water, from which great rolling clouds of snow-white vapor rose high into the air against the blue sky. It was "Old Faithful" in action. Then and there they resolved that this whole region of wonders should be made into a public park for the benefit of all the people, and renouncing any thought of securing the lands for personal gain, these broad-minded men used their influence to have the National Congress assume the permanent guardianship of the place. And now that protection is fully assured these jewels of Nature may be seen by you and me. Those who have traveled much will tell you that Nature is prodigal of her riches, and, indeed, this would seem to be true to one who has spent a summer among the snow-clad peaks of the Alps, or dreamed away the days amid the blue lakes of northern Italy, or wandered about in the green forests of the Adirondacks, where every towering spruce, every fragrant balsam, every dainty wild flower and every mossy log is a thing of beauty. But these are Nature's full-dress garments, just as the broad-spreading wheatfields of the Dakotas are her work-a-day clothes. Her "jewels" are safely locked up in places more difficult of access, where they may be seen by only a favored few; and one of these safe-deposit boxes, so to speak, is the Yellowstone National Park. [Illustration: HYMEN TERRACE] The first collection of these natural gems is at Mammoth Hot Springs, and here my camera, as if by instinct, led me quickly to the daintiest in form and most delicate in colorings of them all, a beautiful formation known as Hymen Terrace. A series of steps, covering a circular area of perhaps one hundred feet in diameter, has been formed by the overflow of a hot spring. The terraces consist of a series of semicircular and irregular curves or scallops, like a combination of hundreds of richly carved pulpits, wrought in a soft, white substance resembling coral. Little pools of glistening water reflect the sunlight from the tops of the steps, while a gently flowing stream spreads imperceptibly over about one half the surface, sprinkling it with millions of diamonds as the altar of Hymen ought to be. The pools are greens and blues of many shades, varying with the depth of the water. The sides of the steps are pure white in the places where the water has ceased to flow, but beneath the thin stream they range in color from a rich cream to a deep brown, with all the intermediate shades harmoniously blended. From the highest pools, and especially from the largest one at the very summit of the mound, rise filmy veils of steam, softening the exquisite tints into a rich harmony of color against the azure of the sky. The Terrace of Hymen is the most exquisite of the formations, but there are others much larger and more magnificent. Minerva Terrace gave me a foreground for a charming picture. Beyond its richly colored steps and sparkling pools were the splendid summits of the Gallatin Range towering more than ten thousand feet above the level of the sea and seeming, in the clear mountain air, to be much nearer than they really are. Hovering above their peaks were piles upon piles of foamy clouds, through which could be seen a background of the bluest of skies, while down below were the gray stone buildings with their bright red roofs that form the headquarters of the army guarding the park. Jupiter Terrace, the most imposing of all these formations, extends a quarter of a mile along the edge of a brilliantly colored mound, rising about three hundred feet above the plain upon which Fort Yellowstone is built. Pulpit Terrace, on its eastern slope, reproduces upon a larger scale the rich carvings and exquisite tints of Hymen, though without the symmetry of structure. The springs at its summit are among the most strikingly beautiful of these unique formations which I like to call the "jewels" of Nature. Two large pools of steaming water lie side by side, apparently identical in structure, and separated only by a narrow ridge of lime. The one on the left is a clear turquoise blue, while its neighbor is distinctly Nile green. Surrounding these springs are several smaller pools, one a rich orange color, another light brown, and a third brown of a much darker hue. The edges of all are tinted in yellow, brown, and gold of varied shades. The pools are apparently all a part of the same spring or group of springs, and subject to the same conditions of light; yet I noticed at least five distinct colors in as many pools. The water itself is colorless and the different hues must be imparted by the colorings of the lime deposits, influenced by the varying depth and temperature of the water. What is known as "the formation" of the Mammoth Hot Springs covers perhaps fifty or sixty acres on the slope of Terrace Mountain. It is a heavy deposit of lime or travertine, essentially the same as the stalagmites and stalactites which one sees in certain caverns. When dry it is white and soft like chalk. The colorings of the terraces are of vegetable origin, caused by a thin, velvety growth, botanically classed as algæ, which flourishes only in warm water. The heat of rocks far beneath the surface warms the water of the springs, which, passing through a bed of limestone, brings to the surface a deposit of pure calcium carbonate. Wherever the flow of water remains warm the algæ appear and tint the growing formation with as many shades of brown as there are varying temperatures of the water. When the water is diverted, as is likely to happen from one season to the next, the algæ die and the surfaces become a chalky white. Leaving the Hot Springs, the road passes through the Golden Gate, where, on one side, a perpendicular wall of rock rises to a height of two hundred feet or more, and on the other are the wooded slopes and rocky summit of Bunsen Peak--a beautiful cañon, where the view suggests the greater glories of Swiss mountain scenery, but for that very reason is not to be mentioned here among the rare gems of the park. Nor shall I include the "Hoodoos," which, though distinctly unusual, are far from beautiful. An area of many acres is covered with huge fragments of massive rocks, piled in disorderly confusion, as though some Cyclops, in a fit of ugly temper, had torn away the whole side of a mountain and scattered the pieces. Through these rocks project the whitened trunks of thousands of dead trees,--a sort of ghostly nightmare through which we were glad to pass as quickly as possible. [Illustration: PULPIT TERRACE] We stopped for lunch at the Norris Geyser Basin, and here saw some miniature geysers, as a kind of preparation for the greater ones beyond. The "Constant," true to its name, throws up a pretty little white fountain so often that it seems to prepare for a new eruption almost before the previous one has subsided. The "Minute Man" is always on duty and pops up his little spray of hot water, fifteen feet high, every minute or two. The "Monarch," near by, is much larger, but not at all pretty. It throws up a stream of black, muddy water seventy-five to one hundred feet high about every forty minutes. Some of these geysers are steady old fellows who have found their appointed task in life and have settled down to perform it with commendable regularity. The Norris Basin, however, seems to be the favorite playground of the youngsters,--a frisky lot of geysers of no fixed habits and a playful disposition to burst out in unexpected places. Such is the New Crater, which asserted itself with a great commotion in 1891, bursting forth with the violence of an earthquake. Another erratic young fellow is the "Fountain Geyser," in the Lower Basin. In July, 1899, he was seized with a fit of the "sulks" and for three months refused to play at all. In October he decided to resume operations and behaved quite well for ten years, when he suddenly took a notion to abandon his crater for the apartments of his neighbor next door. Apparently the furnishings of his new abode did not suit him, for he began at once to throw them out with great violence, hurling huge masses of rock with volcanic force to a height of two hundred feet. Amid terrific rumblings and the hissing of escaping steam, this angry outburst continued for several days, and did not wholly cease for nearly two months. Since then the "Fountain" has settled down to the ordinary daily occupation of a self-respecting geyser. When I saw him he was as calm and serene as a summer's day, and to all appearances had never been guilty of mischief, nor even exhibited a ruffled temper in all his life. Indeed, had I not known his history (inconceivable in one of the gentler sex), I should have personified this geyser in the feminine gender, because of his exquisite beauty. A great jewel seemed to be set into the surface of the earth. Its smooth upper face, about thirty feet in diameter, was level with the ground upon which we stood. Its color, at first glance, seemed to be a rich turquoise blue, but as we looked into the clear, transparent depths there seemed to be a hundred other shades of blue, all blending harmoniously. In the farthest corner, beneath a shelf or mound of geyserite, appeared the opening of a fathomless cave. All around its edges, and continuing in wavy lines of delicate tracery around the bottom of the bowl, were marvelous patterns of exquisite lacework, every angle seeming to catch and throw back its own particular ray of bluish light. There was not a ripple to disturb the surface, not a bubble to foretell the violent eruption which a few hours would bring forth, and only a thin film of vapor to suggest faintly the extraordinary character of this beautiful pool. Only a few hundred feet away is another curious phenomenon in this region of surprises. It is a cauldron of boiling mud, measuring forty or fifty feet in diameter, known as the "Mammoth Paint Pots," where a mass of clay is kept in a state of continuous commotion. Millions of bubbles rise to the surface and explode, sputtering like a thick mess of porridge kept at the boiling point. The color is a creamy white where the ebullition is greatest, but thick masses thrown up around the edges and allowed to cool have assumed a delicate shade of pink. A smaller but more beautiful formation of the same kind is seen near the Thumb Station on the Yellowstone Lake. As we proceeded, Nature's jewels seemed to increase in number and magnificence. Turquoise Spring, a sheet of water one hundred feet wide, has all the beauty of the Fountain Geyser in the latter's quiet state, with an added reputation for tranquillity, for it is not a geyser at all. Near by is Prismatic Lake, about four hundred feet long and two hundred and fifty feet wide. Its center is a very deep blue, changing to green of varying shades, and finally, in the shallowest parts, to yellow, orange, and brown. It is a great spring from the center of which the water flows in delicate, wavy ringlets. The mineral deposits have formed countless scallops, like miniature terraces, a few inches high, sculpturing a wonderful pattern in hues of reds, purples, and browns, delicately imposed upon a background of gray. A thin veil of rising steam was carried away by the wind just enough to reveal the wonderful colorings to our eyes, while the sun added to the bewildering beauty of the spectacle by changing the vapor into a million prisms reflecting all the colors of the rainbow. In this connection I must not fail to mention the Morning-Glory Spring, where the action of a geyser has carved out a deep bowl, twenty feet in diameter. It would seem as though Nature had sunk a gigantic morning-glory into the earth, leaving its rim flush with the surface and yet retaining, clearly visible beneath the smooth surface of the transparent water, all the delicate shades of the original flower. The Sapphire Spring, not far away, is another of the little gems of the region. It is a small, pulsating spring, and the jewel itself is not less remarkable than its extraordinary setting, resembling coral. The constant flow of the waters from a center to all directions has caused the formation of a series of irregular concentric circles, broken into little knobs or mounds, from which the vicinity takes its name of the "Biscuit Basin." As we approached the Upper Geyser Region, the number and variety of these highly colored pools, hot springs, geysers, and strange formations increased steadily, until at last we stood in the presence of "Old Faithful," the crown jewel of the collection, the Koh-i-noor of Nature's casket. A strong breeze from the north was blowing as I stood before the geyser for the first time, and for that reason, I decided to place my camera directly to the west. A small cloud of steam was rising, which seemed gradually to increase in volume. Then, as I watched, a small spray of water would shoot up occasionally above the rim of the crater. Then a puff of steam and another spray, breaking into globules as the wind carried it away. Then silence. Suddenly a large, full stream shot up a distance of twenty or thirty feet and fell back again, and the crater remained quiet for at least five minutes. Is that all? I thought. Does its boasted regularity only mean that while it plays once in sixty-five minutes, yet the height of some of the eruptions may be only trifling? I began to feel doubtful, not to say disappointed. The column of steam seemed smaller, and I wondered if I should have to wait another hour for a real eruption, when suddenly the lazily drifting cloud became a giant, like the genie in the Arabian Nights. Up into the air shot a huge column of water, followed instantly by another still higher, then another, until in a moment or two there towered above the earth a gigantic column of boiling water one hundred and fifty feet high. Straight as a flagstaff it seemed on the left, while to the right rolled the waving folds of a huge white banner, obscuring the blue of the sky in one great mass of snowy vapor. For several minutes the puffs of steam rolled up, and the fountain continued to play. Then, little by little, its form grew less, its force weakened, and at last there was only the little lazy pillar of vapor outlined against the distant hills. Again and again during the day I watched it with an ever-increasing sense of fascination, which reached its climax in the evening, when the eruption was lighted by the powerful search-light on the hotel. As the great clouds of steam rolled up, the strong light seemed to impart a vast variety of colors, ranging from rich cream to yellow, orange, brown, and purple, blended harmoniously but ever changing like the rich silk robes of some Oriental potentate,--a spectacle of bewildering beauty, defying the power of pen to describe or brush to paint. [Illustration: OLD FAITHFUL] There are other geysers greater than "Old Faithful." "The Giant" plays to a height of two hundred and fifty feet, and the "Grand" and "Beehive" nearly as high; the "Grotto" has a more fantastic crater; the "Castle" has the largest cone, and with its beautifully colored "Castle Well" is more unique; and the "Riverside," which plays a stream diagonally across the Firehole River, makes a more striking scenic display. But all of these play at irregular intervals and with far less frequency, varying from a few hours to ten or twelve days between eruptions. On the other hand, the regularity with which "Old Faithful" sends his straight, magnificent column to the skies is fascinating beyond description. Every sixty-five or seventy minutes, never varying more than five minutes, day and night, in all seasons and every kind of weather, "Old Faithful" has steadily performed his task since first discovered in 1870 until the present time, and no man can tell for how many centuries before. "O! Fountain of the Wilderness! Eternal Mystery! Whence came thy wondrous power? For ages,--long before the eye of Man Found access to thy charm, thou'st played Thy stream of marvelous beauty. In midnight dark no less than glorious day, In wintry storms as well as summer's calm, Oblivious to the praise of men, Each hour to Heaven thou hast raised Thine offering pure, of dazzling white. Thy Maker's eye alone has seen The tribute of thy faithfulness, And thou hast been content to play thy part In Nature's solitude." Not alone as the guardian of Nature's jewels is the Yellowstone National Park remarkable. Even if the wonderful geysers, hot springs, and many-colored pools were taken away,--locked up in a strong box and hidden from sight as jewels often are,--the more familiar phases of natural scenery, such as mountains, rivers, lakes, and waterfalls would make it one of the wonder-places of America. On the eastern boundary is the great Absaroka Range, with peaks rising over 10,000 feet. In the northwest corner is the Gallatin Range, dominated by the Electric Peak, 11,155 feet high, covered with snow, and so charged with electricity as to make the surveyor's transit almost useless. The Yellowstone and Gardiner Rivers, which join at the northern boundary, are separated within the park by a range of mountains of which the highest is Mount Washburne (10,350 feet), named for the leader of the expedition of 1870. Farther south, and midway between the Upper Geyser Basin and the Yellowstone Lake, is the Continental Divide. The road passes between two small lakes, one of which discharges its waters into the Atlantic Ocean by way of the Yellowstone, the Missouri, and the Gulf of Mexico, while the other flows into the Pacific through Snake River and the Columbia. From a point a few miles to the east Lake Shoshone may be seen far below, and seeming to tower directly above it, but really fifty miles away, just beyond the southern boundary of the park, are the three sentinels of the Teton Range, the highest 13,741 feet above the sea. The entire park is in the heart of the Rocky Mountains, its lowest level being over 6000 feet elevation. [Illustration: THE GROTTO GEYSER] The park is full of lakes and streams varying in size from the hundreds of little pools and brooks, hidden away among the rocks, to the great Yellowstone Lake, twenty miles in width, and the picturesque river of the same name. Here and there are beautiful cascades which one would go miles to see anywhere else, but the surfeited travelers give them only a careless glance as the stages pass without stopping. The Kepler Cascades tumble over the rocks in a series of falls of more than a hundred feet, making a charming veil of white lace, against a dark background of rocks and pines. The Gibbon Falls, eighty feet high, are nearly as attractive, while the little Rustic Falls, of sixty feet, in Golden Gate Cañon, are really quite delightful. These, and many others, are passed in comparative indifference, for the traveler has already seen many wonderful sights and knows that greater ones are yet in store. His anticipations are realized with good measure running over, when at last he catches his first glimpse of the great Cañon of the Yellowstone. With us this glimpse came at the Upper Falls, where the Yellowstone River suddenly drops one hundred and twelve feet, suggesting the American Fall at Niagara, though the volume of water is not so great. It is more beautiful, however, because of the wildness of the scenery. Lower down, the river takes another drop, falling to the very bottom of the cañon. Here the cataract is more than twice the height of Niagara, and though lacking the width of the stream that makes the latter so impressive, is in every respect far more beautiful. One must stand near the edge of the rocks at Inspiration Point to grasp the full majesty of the scene. We are now three miles below the Great Falls. The Upper Fall, which at close range is a great, beautiful white sheet of water, rolling with imperial force over a rocky precipice, seems only a trifling detail in the vast picture--a mere touch of dazzling white where all else is in color. At the bottom is the blue of the river, broken here and there into foamy white waves. Pines and mosses contribute touches of green. The rocky cliffs are yellow and gold, deepening into orange. In the distance a great rock of crimson stands like a fortress, with arched doorway, through which is seen a vista of green fields. But this is an optical illusion, as a strong glass will reveal. The doorway is only a pointed fir, which the distance has softened into the shadow of a pointed arch. Mediæval castles rear their buttressed fronts on inaccessible slopes. Cathedral spires, as majestic as those of Cologne, and numerous as the minarets of Milan, stand out in bold relief. Away down below is an eagle's nest, into which we can look and see the birds, yet it is perched upon a pinnacle so high that if one were to stand at the level of the river and look up, it would tower above him higher than the tallest building in the world. [Illustration: THE CAÑON OF THE YELLOWSTONE RIVER] Not a sign of the handiwork of man appears in any direction. The gorgeous spectacle, reveling in all the hues of the rainbow, is just as Nature made it--let the geologist say, if he can, how many thousands of years ago. And above all this splendid panorama, unequaled save by the glory of the sunset sky, is that same rich blue which Nature employs to add the final touch of loveliness to all her greatest works, and yet reserves enough to beautify the more familiar scenes at home. X THE GRAND CAÑON OF ARIZONA X THE GRAND CAÑON OF ARIZONA I arrived at the cañon on a cold night in January, 1903, alone. There were few guests at the hotel, which was a capacious log cabin, with long, single-storied frame structures projecting in various directions, to serve the purposes of sleeping-rooms and kitchens. It had a primitive look, far more in keeping with the solitude of its surroundings than the present comfortable hotel. An old guide (I hoped he might be John Hance) sat by the fire talking with a group of loungers, and I sauntered near enough to hear the conversation, expecting to listen to some good tale of the cañon. But the talk was commonplace. Presently an Indian came in accompanied by a young squaw. He was said to be a hundred years old--a fact no doubt easily proved by the layers of dirt on his face and hands, if one could count them like the rings on a tree. He proved to be only a lazy old beggar and quite unromantic. The hotel management did not provide Indian dances and other forms of amusement then as now and I was obliged to spend a dull evening. I read the guidebooks and reached the conclusion that the cañon was not worth visiting if one did not go "down the trail" to the bottom of it. So I inquired at the desk when the party would start in the morning, and was dismayed to be told that there would be none unless somebody wanted to go. I was told to put my name on the "list" and no doubt others would see it and we might "get up" a party. I therefore boldly signed my name at the top of a white sheet of paper, feeling much like a decoy, and awaited results. Again and again during the lonesome evening I sauntered over to the desk, but not one of the few guests had shown the slightest interest. At ten o'clock my autograph still headed an invisible list, as lonely as the man for whom it stood, and I went to bed, vowing to myself that if I could get only one companion, besides the guide, I would go down the trail. It was still dark when I heard the strident voice of a Japanese porter calling through the corridor, "Brek-foos! Brek-foos"! and I rose quickly. The dawn was just breaking as I stepped out into the chill air and walked to the edge of the great chasm. Before me rolled a sea of vapor. It was as though a massive curtain of clouds had been let down from the sky to protect the cañon in the night. The spectacle was not to be exhibited until the proper hour arrived. The great white ocean stretched away to the north as far as the eye could reach, filling every nook and corner of the vast depression. In the east the rosy tints of the morning brightened the sky. Suddenly a ray of light illumined what appeared to be a rock, far out in the filmy ocean, and the black mass blazed with the ruddy hue. The tip of another great butte suddenly projected itself and caught another ray of light. One by one the rugged domes of the great rock temples of Brahma and Buddha and Zoroaster and Isis, as they are called, peeped into view as the mists gradually disappeared, catching the morning sunbeams at a thousand different angles, and throwing back a kaleidoscope of purples, blues, reds, and yellows, until at last the whole superb cañon was revealed in a burst of color, over which the amethyst reigned supreme. How long I should have stood enraptured before this scene of superlative grandeur, so marvelously unfolded to the sight, I do not know, had not the more prosaic call of "Brek-foos!" long since forgotten, again resounded to bring me back to human levels. I returned to the hotel and entered the breakfast-room, with an appetite well sharpened by the crisp wintry air, first taking a furtive glance at the "list," where my name still presided in solitary dignity. It was still early and I was seated at the head of a long table, where there were as yet only two or three other guests. I felt sure that the day would be a busy one, particularly if I should find that one companion with whom I was determined to attempt the trail. It would be well to lay in a good supply of fuel, and accordingly I asked the waiter to get me a good beefsteak and a cup of coffee. He suggested griddle cakes in addition, as appropriate for a cold morning, and I assented. Then suddenly remembering that country hotels have a way of serving microscopic portions in what a distinguished author has described as "bird bathtubs," I called over my shoulder to bring me some ham and eggs also. "George" disappeared with a grin. When he returned, holding aloft a huge and well-loaded tray, that darky's face was a vision of delight. His eyes sparkled and his thick lips had expanded into an upturned crescent, wherein two rows of gleaming ivory stood in military array, every one determined to be seen. He laid before me a porter-house steak, large enough for my entire family, an immense elliptical piece of ham sliced from rim to rim off the thigh of a huge porker, three fried eggs, a small mountain of buckwheat cakes, and a pot of coffee, remarking, as he made room for the generous repast, "Ah reckon you-all's powerful hungry dis mawnin', boss!" By this time the table was well filled. There is no formality at such places and we were soon chatting together like old acquaintances. I resolved to open up the subject of the trail and asked my neighbor at the right whether he intended to make the trip. He said "No," rather indifferently, I thought, and I expressed my surprise. I had read the guidebooks to good purpose and was soon expatiating on the wonders of the trail, declaring that I could not understand why people should come from all parts of the world to see the cañon and miss the finest sight of all, the view from below. (Somebody said that in the guidebook.) They were all listening now. Some one asked if it was not dangerous. "Not in the least," I replied; "no lives have ever been lost and there has never been an accident" (the guidebook said that, too)--"and, besides," I continued, knowingly, "it's lots of fun." Just here a maiden lady of uncertain age, cadaverous cheeks, and a high, squeaky voice, piped out,--"I believe I'll go." I remembered my vow about the one companion and suddenly felt a strange, sickly feeling of irresolution. But it was only for a moment. A little girl of twelve was tugging at her father's coat-tails--"Papa, can't I go?" Papa conferred with Mamma, who agreed that Bessie might go if Papa went too. I was making progress. A masculine voice from the other end of the table then broke in with a few more questions, and its owner, a man from Minnesota, whom we afterward called the "Major," was the next recruit. I had suddenly gained an unwonted influence. The guests were evidently inspired with a feeling of respect for a man who would order such a regal breakfast! After the meal was over, a lady approached and prefacing her request with the flattering remark that I "looked respectable," said that her daughter, a young lady of twenty, was anxious to go down the trail; she would consent if I would agree to see that no harm befell her. I thought I might as well be a chaperon as a cicerone, since I had had no experience as either, and promptly assured the mother of my willingness to accept the charge. It was a vain promise. The young lady was the first to mount her mule and fell into line behind the guide; before I could secure my animal others had taken their places and I found myself three mules astern, with no possibility of passing to the front or of exchanging a word with my "charge." I fancied a slight gleam of mischievous triumph in her eyes as she looked back, seeming to say, "I can take care of myself, quite well, thank you, Mr. Chaperon!" After a slight delay, I secured my mule and taking the bridle firmly in hand said, "Get up, Sam." The animal deliberately turned his head and looked back at me with a sardonic smile in his mulish eye that said clearly--"You imagine that _you_ are guiding me, don't you? Just wait and see!" [Illustration: THE TRAIL, GRAND CAÑON] There were seven of us, including the guide, as we started down the long and crooked path. The guide rode a white horse, but the rest of the party were mounted, like myself, on big, sturdy mules--none of your little, lazy burros, as most people imagine. At first the trail seemed to descend at a frightful angle, and the path seemed--oh, so narrow! I could put out my left hand against a perpendicular wall of rock and look down on the right into what seemed to be the bottomless pit. I noticed that the trail was covered with snow and ice. Suppose any of the mules should slip? Had we not embarked upon a foolhardy undertaking? And if there should be an accident, all the blame would justly fall upon my head. How silly of me to be so anxious to go! And how reckless to urge all these other poor innocents into such a trap! Fortunately such notions lasted only a few minutes. The mules were sharp-shod and did not slip. They went down every day, nearly, and knew their business. They were born in the cañon. They would have been terribly frightened in Broadway, but here they were at home and followed the familiar path with a firm tread. I threw the bridle over the pommel of the saddle and gave Sam my implicit trust. He knew a great deal more about the job than I did. From that moment I had no further thought of danger. I came to have a high respect for that mule. Most people respect a mule only because of the possibility that his hind legs may suddenly fly out at a tangent and hit something. I respected Sam because I knew his legs would do nothing of the kind. He needed all of them under him and he knew it. He never swerved a hair's breadth nearer the outer edge of the path than was absolutely necessary. The trail descends in a series of zigzag lines and sharp angles like the teeth of a saw. Sam would march straight down to one of these angles; then, with the precipice yawning thousands of feet below, he would slowly squirm around until his head was pointed down the next segment and then with great deliberation resume his journey. The guide thought him too deliberate and once came back to give me a small willow switch. I was riding on a narrow shelf of rock, less than a yard wide, where I could look down into a chasm thousands of feet deep. "That mule is too slow," he said; "you must whip him up." I took the switch and thanked him. But I wouldn't have used it then for a million dollars! It was a glorious ride. The trail itself was the only sign of human handiwork. Everything else in sight was as Nature made it--a wild, untouched ruggedness near at hand and a softer, gentler aspect in the distance, where the exposed strata of all the geologic ages caught the sunshine at millions of angles, each reflecting its own particular hue and all blending together in a rich harmony of color; where the bright blue sky and the fleecy clouds came down to join their earthly brethren in a revelry of rainbow tints, and the sun overhead, despite the snow about the rim, was smiling his happiest summer benison upon the deep valley. We came, presently, to a place called Jacob's Ladder, where the path ceased to be an inclined plane and became a series of huge steps, each about as high as an ordinary table. Here we all dismounted, for the mules could not safely descend with such burdens. It was comical to watch them. My Sam would stand on each step for several minutes, gazing about as though enjoying the scenery. Then, as if struck by a sudden notion, he would drop his fore legs to the next step, and with hind legs still at the higher elevation, pause in further contemplation. At length it would occur to this deliberate animal that his hind legs, after all, really belonged on the same level with the other two, and he would suddenly drop them down and again become rapt in thought. This performance was repeated on every step for the entire descent of more than one hundred feet. After traveling about three hours, during which we had descended three thousand feet below the rim, we came to Indian Garden, where an Indian family once found a fertile spot on which they could practice farming in their own crude way. Here we came to some tents belonging to a camping-party, and I found the solution of a problem that had puzzled me earlier in the day. Standing on the rim and looking across the cañon I had seen what appeared to be a newspaper lying on the grass. I knew it must be three or four miles from where I stood, and that a newspaper would be invisible at that distance, yet I could not imagine how any natural object could appear white and rectangular so far away. Presently I saw some tiny objects moving slowly like a string of black ants, and realized that these must be some early trail party. We met them at Indian Garden. They proved to be prospectors and the "newspaper" was in reality the group of tents. We had now left the steep zigzag path, and riding straight forward over a great plateau, we came to the brink of some granite cliffs, where we could at last see the Colorado River, thundering through the gorge thirteen hundred feet below. And what a river it is! From the rim we could only catch an occasional glimpse, looking like a narrow silver ribbon, threading in and out among a multitude of strangely fashioned domes and turrets. Here we saw something of its true character, though still too far away to feel its real power--a boiling, turbulent, angry, and useless stream dashing wildly through a barren valley of rock and sand, its waters capable of generating millions of horse-power, but too inaccessible to be harnessed, and its surface violently resisting the slightest attempt at navigation; a veritable anarchist of a river! For more than a thousand miles it rushes through a deep cañon toward the sea, falling forty-two hundred feet between its source and mouth and for five hundred miles of its course tumbling in a series of five hundred and twenty cataracts and rapids--an average of slightly more than one to every mile. Think of the courage of brave Major Powell and his men, who descended this terrible river for the first time, and you have a subject for contemplation as sublime as the cañon itself. In the spring of 1869, when John W. Powell started on his famous expedition, the Grand Cañon was totally unknown. Hunters and prospectors had seen enough to bring back wonderful stories. Parties had ventured into the gorge in boats and had never been heard of again. The Indians warned him that the cañon was sacred to the gods, who would consider any attempt to enter it an act of disobedience to their wishes and contempt for their authority, and vengeance would surely follow. The incessant roar of the waters told of many cataracts and it was currently reported that the river was lost underground for several hundred miles. Undaunted by these fearful tales, Major Powell, who had seen service in the Civil War, leaving an arm on the battlefield of Shiloh, determined, nevertheless, to descend the river. He had long been a student of botany, zoölogy, and mineralogy and had devoted two years to a study of the geology of the region. With nine other men as his companions, he started from Green River City, Wyoming, on the 24th of May, with one light boat of pine and three heavy ones built of oak. Nothing could be more modest than his report to the Government, yet it is an account of thrilling adventures and hair-breadth escapes, day by day, almost too marvelous for belief. Yet there is not the slightest doubt of its authenticity in every detail. At times the swift current carried them along with the speed of an express train, the waves breaking and rolling over the boats, which, but for the water-tight compartments, must have been swamped at the outset. When a threatening roar gave warning of another cataract they would pull for the shore and prepare to make a portage. The boats were unloaded and the stores of provisions, instruments, etc., carried down to some convenient point below the falls. Then the boats were let down, one by one. The bow line would be taken below and made fast. Then with five or six men holding back on the stern line with all their strength, the boat would be allowed to go down as far as they could hold it, when the line would be cast off, the boat would leap over the falls, and be caught by the lower rope. Again and again, day after day throughout the entire summer, this hard work was continued. In the early evenings and mornings Major Powell, with a companion or two, would climb to the top of the high cliffs, towering to a height of perhaps two thousand or three thousand feet above the river, to make his observations, frequently getting into dangerous positions where a man with two arms would have difficulty in clinging to the rocks, and where any one but a man of iron nerve would have met instant death. Day by day they faced what seemed certain destruction, dashing through rapids, spinning about in whirlpools, capsizing in the breakers, and clinging to the upturned boats until rescued or thrown up on some rocky islet, breaking their oars, losing or spoiling their rations until they were nearly gone, and toiling incessantly every waking hour. One of the boats was completely wrecked before they had crossed the Arizona line, and one man, who barely escaped death in this accident, left the party on July 5, declaring that he had seen danger enough. The remaining eight, whether from loyalty to their chief or because it seemed impossible to climb to the top of the chasm, continued to brave the perils of the river until August 27, when they had reached a point well below the mouth of the Bright Angel River. Here the danger seemed more appalling than at any previous time. Lateral streams had washed great boulders into the river, forming a dam over which the water fell eighteen or twenty feet; then appeared a rapid for two or three hundred yards on one side, the walls of the cañon projecting sharply into the river on the other; then a second fall so great that its height could not be determined, and beyond this more rapids, filled with huge rocks for one or two hundred yards, and at the bottom a great rock jutting halfway across the river, having a sloping side up which the tumbling waters dashed in huge breakers. After spending the afternoon clambering among the rocks to survey the river and coolly calculating his chances, the dauntless Powell announced his intention to proceed. But there were three men whose courage was not equal to this latest demand, and they firmly declined the risk. On the morning of the 28th, after a breakfast that seemed like a funeral, the three deserters--one can scarcely find the heart to blame them--climbed a crag to see their former comrades depart. One boat is left behind. The other two push out into the stream and in less than a minute have safely run the dangerous rapids, which seemed bad enough from above, but were in reality less difficult than many others previously experienced. A succession of rapids and falls are safely run, but after dinner they find themselves in another bad place. The river is tumbling down over the rocks in whirlpools and great waves and the angry waters are lashed into white foam. There is no possibility of a portage and both boats must go over the falls. Away they go, dashing and plunging, striking the rocks and rolling over and over until they reach the calmer waters below, when as if by miracle it is found that every man in the party is uninjured and both the boats are safe. By noon of the next day they have emerged from the Grand Cañon into a valley where low mountains can be seen in the distance. The river flows in silent majesty, the sky is bright overhead, the birds pour forth the music of a joyous welcome, the toil and pain are over, the gloomy shadows have disappeared, and their joy is exquisite as they realize that the first passage of the long and terrible river has been safely accomplished and all are alive and well. But what of the three who left them? If only they could have known that safety and joy were little more than a day ahead! They successfully climbed the steep cañon walls, only to encounter a band of Indians who were looking for cattle thieves or other plunderers. They could give no other account of their presence except to say they had come down the river. This, to the Indian mind, was so obviously an impossibility that the truth seemed an audacious lie and the three unfortunate men were murdered. We were obliged to content ourselves with a view of the river from this height, though I had expected to descend to the river's edge and felt correspondingly disappointed. We had started too late for so long a trip and now it was time to turn back. Looking back at the solid and apparently perpendicular rock, nearly a mile high, it seemed impossible that any one could ascend to the top. It is only when one looks out from the bottom of this vast chasm at the huge walls on every side that he begins to realize its awfulness. We are mere specks in the bottom of a gigantic mould wherein some great mountain range might have been cast. There are great mountains all about us and yet we are not on a mountain but in a vast hole. The surface of the earth is above us. A great gash has been cut into it, two hundred miles long, twelve to fifteen miles wide, and a mile deep, and we are in the depths of that frightful abyss with--to all appearance--no possible means of escape. Perpendicular cliffs of enormous height, which not even a mountain sheep could climb, hem us in on every side. The shadows are growing deep and it seems that the day must be nearly done. Yet we remount our mules and slowly retrace our steps over the steep ascent. It seems as though the strain would break the backs of the animals. As we approached the summit of the path some one remarked, "I should think these mules would be so tired they would be ready to drop." "Wait and see," said the guide. A few minutes later we reached the top and dismounted, feeling pretty stiff from the exertion. The mules were unsaddled and turned loose. Away they scampered like a lot of schoolboys at recess, kicking their heels high in the air and racing madly across the field. "I guess they're not as tired as we are," said the Major, as he painfully tried to straighten up. Just then the little girl of twelve came up to me. "There is one thing," she said, "that has been puzzling me all day. How in the world did you find out so quickly that your mule's name was Sam?" "Name ain't Sam," interrupted the guide, bluntly. "Name's Teddy--Teddy Roosevelt." Some years ago I had occasion to attend a stereopticon lecture on the Grand Cañon. The speaker was enthusiastic and his pictures excellent. But he fired off all his ammunition of adjectives with the first slide. For an hour and a half we sat listening to an endless repetition of "grand," "magnificent," "sublime," "awe-inspiring," etc. As we walked home a young lad in our party, who was evidently studying rhetoric in school, was heard to inquire, "Mother, wouldn't you call that an example of tautology?" I fear I should merit the same criticism if I were to undertake a description of the cañon. Yet we may profitably stand, for a few moments, on Hopi Point, a promontory that projects far out from the rim, and try to measure it with our eyes. That great wall on the opposite side is just thirteen miles away. The strip of white at its upper edge, which in my photograph measures less than a quarter of an inch, is a stratum of limestone five hundred feet thick. Here and there we catch glimpses of the river. It is five miles away, and forty-six hundred feet--nearly a perpendicular mile--below the level upon which we are standing. We look to the east and then to the west, but we see only a small part of the chasm. It melts away in the distance like a ship at sea. From end to end it is two hundred and seventeen miles. It is not one cañon, but thousands. Every river that runs into the Colorado has cut out its own cañon, and each of these has its countless tributaries. It has been estimated that if all the cañons were placed end to end in a straight line they would stretch twenty thousand miles. [Illustration: THE GRAND CAÑON OF ARIZONA] If this mighty gash in the earth's surface were only a great valley with gently sloping sides and a level floor, it would still be impressive and inspiring, though not so picturesque. But its floor is filled with a multitude of temples and castles and amphitheaters of stupendous size, all sculptured into strange shapes by the erosion of the waters. Any one of these, if it could be transported to the level plains of the Middle West or set up on the Atlantic Coast, would be an object of wonder which hundreds of thousands would visit. Away off in the distance is the Temple of Shiva, towering seventy-six hundred and fifty feet above the sea and fifty-two hundred and fourteen feet (nearly a mile) above the river. Take it to the White Mountains and set it down in the Crawford Notch. From its summit you would look down upon the old Tip-Top house of Mount Washington, eight hundred feet below. Much nearer, and a little to the right, is the "Pyramid of Cheops," a much smaller butte but rising fifty-three hundred and fifty feet above the sea-level. If the "Great Pyramid of Cheops" in Egypt were to be placed by its side it would scarcely be visible from where we stand, for it would be lost in the mass of rocky formations. Mr. G. Wharton James, who has spent many years of his life in the study of the cañon, says that he gazed upon it from a certain point every year for twenty years and often daily for weeks at a time. He continues, "Such is the marvelousness of distance that never until two days ago did I discover that a giant detached mountain fully eight thousand feet high and with a base ten miles square ... stood in the direct line of my sight, and as it were, immediately before me." He discovered it only because of a peculiarity of the light. It had always appeared as a part of the great north wall, though separated from it by a cañon fully eight miles wide. How are we to realize these enormous depths? Those isolated peaks and mountains, of which there are hundreds, are really only details in the vast stretch of the cañon. Not one of them reaches above the level of the plain on the north side. Tourists who have traveled much are familiar with the great cathedrals of Europe. Let us drop a few of them into the cañon. First, St. Peter's, the greatest cathedral in the world. We lower it to the level of the river, and it disappears behind the granite cliff. Let the stately Duomo of Milan follow. Its beautiful minarets and multitude of statues are lost in the distance, and though we place it on the top of St. Peter's, it, too, is out of sight behind the cliffs. We must have something larger, so we place on top of Milan the great cathedral of Cologne, five hundred and one feet high, and the tips of its two great spires barely appear above the point from which we watched the swiftly rolling river. Now let us poise on the top of Cologne's spires, two great Gothic cathedrals of France, Notre Dame and Amiens, one above the other, then add St. Paul's of London, the three great towers of Lincoln, the triple spires of Lichfield, Canterbury with its great central tower, and the single spire, four hundred and four feet high, of Salisbury. We are still far from the top. These units of measurement are too small. Let us add the tallest office building in the world, seven hundred and fifty feet high, and then the Eiffel Tower, of nine hundred and eighty-six feet. We shall still need the Washington Monument, and if my calculations are correct, an extension ladder seventy-five feet long on top of that, to enable us to reach the top of the northern wall. One might amuse himself indefinitely with such comparisons. Perhaps they are futile, but it is only by some such method that one can form the faintest conception of the colossal dimensions of this, the greatest chasm in the world. Still more bewildering is the attempt to measure the cañon in periods of time. There were two great periods in its history--first, the period of upheaval, and second, that of erosion. When the geologic movement was in process which created the continent, with the Rocky Mountains for its backbone, this entire region became a plateau, vastly higher than at present, with its greatest elevation far to the north. Then the rivers began to carry the rains and snows to the sea, carving channels for themselves through the rocky surface. The steep decline caused the waters to flow with swiftness. The little streamlets united to form larger ones, and these in turn joined their waters in still greater streams. The larger the stream and the swifter the flow, the faster the channel would be carved. The softer rocks gave slight resistance, but when the granite or harder formations were encountered, the streams would eddy and whirl about in search of new channels, the hard rocks forming a temporary dam. In this way the hundreds of buttes were formed. The Green River and the Grand unite to form the Colorado, the entire course of this great waterway stretching for two thousand miles. The two streams carry down a mighty flood--in former ages it was far mightier than now--which in its swift descent has ground the rocks into sand and silt and with resistless force carried them down to the sea. Those great buttes and strangely sculptured temples, each a formidable mountain, were not thrown up by volcanic forces, but have been carved out of the solid earth by the erosion of the waters. That river five miles away, of which we see only glimpses here and there, was the tool with which the Great Sculptor carved all this wondrous chasm. Major Powell has calculated that the amount of rock thus ground to pieces and carried away would be equivalent to a mass two hundred thousand square miles in area and a full mile in thickness. Think of excavating a mile deep the entire territory of New England, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, and West Virginia, and dumping it all into the Atlantic. Then think that this is the task the Colorado River and other geologic forces have accomplished, and pause to wonder how long it took to complete the process! If the Egyptian kings who built the pyramids had come here for material they would have seen the chasm substantially as we see it! The geologic story of the cañon's origin is too far beyond our comprehension. Let us turn to the Indian account. A great chief lost his wife and refused to be comforted. An Indian God, Ta-vwoats, came to him and offered to conduct him to a happier land where he might see her, if he would promise to cease mourning. Then Ta-vwoats made a trail through the mountains to the happy land and there the chief saw his wife. This trail was the cañon of the Colorado. The deity made the chief promise that he would reveal the path to no man, lest all might wish to go at once to heaven, and in order to block the way still more effectually he rolled a mad surging river through the gorges so swift and strong that it would destroy any one who dared attempt to enter heaven by that route. I have often been asked which is the greater wonder, the Grand Cañon of the Colorado River or the Yellowstone National Park. The question is unanswerable. One might as well attempt to say whether the sea is more beautiful than the sky. If mere size is meant, the Grand Cañon is vastly greater. If all the geysers of the Yellowstone were placed down in the bottom of the Grand Cañon at the level of the river, and all were to play at once, the effect would be unnoticed from Hopi Point. The cañon of the Yellowstone River, impressive as it is, would be lost in one of the side cañons of the Colorado. The Grand Cañon and the Yellowstone are creations of a totally different kind. The Yellowstone is a garden of wonders. The Grand Cañon is a sublime spectacle. The Yellowstone is a variety of interesting units. The Grand Cañon is a unit of infinite variety. The Yellowstone contains a collection of individual marvels, each wondrous in structure and many of them exquisite in beauty. The Grand Cañon is one vast masterpiece of unimagined architecture, limitless grandeur, and ever-changing but splendidly harmonious brilliancy of color. The Yellowstone fills the mind with wonder and amazement at all the varied resources of Nature. The Grand Cañon fills the soul with awe and reverence as one stands in silence upon the brink and humbly reflects upon the infinite power of God. THE END INDEX INDEX Alcott, A. Bronson, 192, 193. Alcott, Louisa M., 193. Aldrich, Thomas Bailey, 207-20. Amiel, Henri Frédéric, 118; 124-27. Anderson, Mary, 110, 112, 113. Appledore, 222, 223, 232. Arbury Hall, 20-28. ARIZONA, THE GRAND CAÑON OF, 271-96. Arnold, Thomas, 52, 98, 99. Arona, 156. Authari, the Long-haired, 164. Ayrshire, 46-48. Bashkirtseff, Marie, 132, 133. Bastien-Lepage, 133. Battlefield of Concord, 186, 187. Belgirate, 155-56. Bellagio, 168. Borromeo, Carlo, 156, 161. Borromeo, Count Vitaliano, 154. Bruce, Robert, 85, 90, 91. Burns, Robert, 43-48. BURROUGHS, JOHN, A DAY WITH, 233-50. Burroughs, John, 227, 228. Byron, Lord, 143, 144. Cadenabbia, 158, 159. Cañon of the Yellowstone, the, 267-69. Carlyle, Thomas, 41, 44, 66. Caroline, Queen, 168. Catskill Mountains, 237, 238, 239, 242, 243, 246. Channing, Ellery, 186. Coleridge, Hartley, 62. Coleridge, Samuel T., 51, 61, 62. Colorado River, the, 282-88; 293-95. Colvin, Sir Sidney, 19-21. Como, City of, 165, 168. Como, Lake, 95-98; 137; 138; 150; 158-68. Concord, Massachusetts, 179-95. Deffand, Marquise du, 140. De Quincey, Thomas, 52, 59, 63, 64. Drummond, William, 77-84. Ecclefechan, 41-44. Eliot George, 20-35. Ellastone, original of "Hayslope," 31. Emerson, Lidian, 188, 190. Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 17; 181-92; 249. Esk, Vale of the, 75-92. Esthwaite, Lake, 56. Evans, Rev. Frederick R., 28-29. Fields, James T., 199, 200. Gaeta vase, 170. Gallio, Cardinal, 168. Gould, Jay, 236, 237. GRAND CAÑON OF ARIZONA, THE, 271-96. Grant, Gen. U. S., 244. Grasmere, 59, 60, 61, 65, 66. Gravedona, palace of Cardinal Gallio, 168. GREAT BRITAIN, LITERARY RAMBLES IN, 15-48. Green, Thomas H., 117, 118, 122, 123, 124, 127. Haines, George, 170-74. Hawthorne, Elizabeth, 198, 199. Hawthorne, Madam, 198, 200. Hawthorne, Nathaniel; in Concord, 179-95; in Salem, 196-206. Hawthorne, Sophia Peabody, 180, 185; 198; 199. HAWTHORNDEN TO ROSLIN GLEN, FROM, 73-92. Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 17. "House of the Seven Gables, The," 196, 202-06. Il Medeghino, 160-63. Iron Crown of Lombardy, 165. Isles of Shoals, the, 222-32. Isola Bella, 152-55. Isola dei Pescatori, 155. Isola Madre, 155. ITALIAN LAKES, A TOUR OF THE, 147-74. Jonson, Ben, 81-84. Lacus Larius. _See_ Como. Lacus Verbanus. _See_ Maggiore. "Lady Wentworth," scenes of, 220, 221. Laighton, Oscar, 229. Lamb, William and Caroline, 141-44. Lasswade, 75-76. Lecco, Lake, 95, 96. Lespinasse, Julie de, 139-41. Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 17; 159; 220; 221. Lowell, James Russell, 17; 55; 232. Lugano, Lake, 96, 151, 157, 159. Luino, 156, 157. Maggiore, Lake, 96, 149, 150, 152-56, 159. Mammoth Hot Springs, 255-57. Medici, Gian Giacomo de (Il Medeghino), 160-63. Melbourne, Lord, 141-44. Menaggio, 160. Minute-Man, the, Concord, 186, 187. Monument, the, on battlefield of Concord, 186, 187. Musketaquid, river at Concord, 185. NEW ENGLAND, LITERARY LANDMARKS OF, 175-232. Nuneaton, 20, 22, 29, 30. Nutter House, the, 207-16. Old Faithful, 254; 262-65. Old Manse, the, 179-86. Oxford, 99-100. Passmore Edwards Settlement, London, 103-09, 127. Pattison, Mark, 100; 117-21; 126, 127. Peabody, Elizabeth Palmer, 198. Peabody, Mary (Mrs. Horace Mann), 198. Peabody, Dr. Nathaniel, 197. Peabody, Sophia. _See_ Hawthorne, Sophia Peabody. Pliny, the Elder, 160, 166. Pliny, the Younger, 166, 167. Pogliaghi, Lombard decorator, 170, 171. Portsmouth, N.H., 207-21. Powell, Major John W., 283-87. Ripley, Rev. Ezra, 182. Ripley, Rev. Samuel, 182. "Robert Elsmere," 102, 109, 110-27. Roslin Castle, 86-88. Roslin Chapel, 88, 90. Roslin Glen, 75-92. St. Clair family, of Roslin, 87, 88, 91, 92. Salem, Massachusetts, 196-206. Salpion, Greek sculptor, 170. "Scarlet Letter, The," 201-02. Scott, Sir Walter, 37, 38, 39, 45, 46, 75, 76, 89, 90, 239. Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, Concord, 187-89. Southey, Robert, 51. Thaxter, Celia, 221, 223-32. Theodelinda, Queen of the Lombards, 163-65. Thoreau, Henry D., 182-91; 228. Tower of London, 18. Tremezzo, 168. Varenna, 163. Victoria Monument, London, 40. Villa Bonaventura, 169. Villa Carlotta, 168, 169. Villa d'Este, 168. Villa Maria, 169-74. Villa Pliniana, 167, 168. Walden Pond, 191. WARD, MRS. HUMPHRY, THE COUNTRY OF, 93-146. Ward, Mrs. Humphry, scenes of novels, 36, 37, 111-17; 128-31; 134-38; 145; 169. Washburn, Gen. Henry D., 253. Wayside, the, Hawthorne's house in Concord, 193, 194. Wentworth House, 220-21. Westmoreland, 51-72; 98; 131; 134; 135; 136; 239; 241. White, Gilbert, 228. Wilson, John (Christopher North), 52. Windermere, Lake, 54; 68; 70; 98. Windermere village, 51. WORDSWORTH'S COUNTRY, A DAY IN, 49-72. Wordsworth, Dorothy, 41, 63, 64, 65. Wordsworth, Mrs., 63. Wordsworth, William, 41; 51-72; 98; 158; 239-43. YELLOWSTONE, GLIMPSES OF THE, 251-69. Yellowstone Lake, the, 261; 267. Yellowstone National Park, the, 295, 296. Yellowstone River, the, 267, 268. The Riverside Press CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS U. S. A. 
38866	----	generously made available by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org) Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 38866-h.htm or 38866-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38866/38866-h/38866-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38866/38866-h.zip) Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See http://www.archive.org/details/evolutionofphoto00werguoft Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). Whole and fractional parts of numbers are displayed as 4-5/8 for four and five-eights or as a decimal number. Several of the advertisements display another type of 'fraction' to represent shillings and pence: 1/1-1/2 for one shilling and one and one-half pence; and 1/- is 1 shilling and no pence. [Illustration: FIRST PERIOD. PAPER, ASPHALTUM, &C. THOMAS WEDGWOOD. _From a Plaster Cast._ JOSEPH NICÉPHORE NIÉPCE. _From a Painting by L. Berger._ Rev. J. B. READE. _From a Photograph by Maull & Fox._ HENRY FOX TALBOT. _From a Calotype._ SIR JOHN HERSCHEL. _From a Daguerreotype._] THE EVOLUTION OF PHOTOGRAPHY. With a Chronological Record of Discoveries, Inventions, Etc., Contributions to Photographic Literature, and Personal Reminiscences Extending over Forty Years. by JOHN WERGE. Illustrated. London: Piper & Carter, 5, Furnival Street, Holborn, E.C.; and John Werge, 11A, Berners Street, Oxford Street, W. 1890. [All Rights Reserved.] Printed by Piper & Carter, 5, Furnival Street, Holborn, London, E.C. PREFACE. No previous history of photography, that I am aware of, has ever assumed the form of a reminiscence, nor have I met with a photographic work, of any description, that is so strictly built upon a chronological foundation as the one now placed in the hands of the reader. I therefore think, and trust, that it will prove to be an acceptable and readable addition to photographic literature. It was never intended that this volume should be a text-book, so I have not entered into elaborate descriptions of the manipulations of this or that process, but have endeavoured to make it a comprehensive and agreeable summary of all that has been done in the past, and yet convey a perfect knowledge of all the processes as they have appeared and effected radical changes in the practice of photography. The chronological record of discoveries, inventions, appliances, and publications connected with the art will, it is hoped, be received and considered as a useful and interesting table of reference; while the reminiscences, extending over forty years of unbroken contact with every phase of photography, and some of its pioneers, will form a vital link between the long past and immediate present, which may awaken pleasing recollections in some, and give encouragement to others to enter the field of experiment, and endeavour to continue the work of evolution. At page 10 it is stated, on the authority of the late Robert Hunt, that some of Niépce's early pictures may be seen at the British Museum. That was so, but unfortunately it is not so now. On making application, very recently, to examine these pictures, I ascertained that they were never placed in the care of the curator of the British Museum, but were the private property of the late Dr. Robert Brown, who left them to his colleague, John Joseph Bennett, and that at the latter's death they passed into the possession of his widow. I wrote to the lady making enquiries about them, but have not been able to trace them further; there are, however, two very interesting examples of Niépce's heliographs, and one photo-etched plate and print, lent by Mr. H. P. Robinson, on view at South Kensington, in the Western Gallery of the Science Collection. For the portrait of Thomas Wedgwood, I am indebted to Mr. Godfrey Wedgwood; for that of Joseph Nicéphore Niépce, to the Mayor of Chalons-sur-Saône; for the Rev. J. B. Reade's, to Mr. Fox; for Sir John Herschel's, to Mr. H. H. Cameron; for John Frederick Goddard's, to Dr. Jabez Hogg; and for Frederick Scott Archer's, to Mr. Alfred Cade; and to all those gentlemen I tender my most grateful acknowledgments. Also to the Autotype Company, for their care and attention in carrying out my wishes in the reproduction of all the illustrations by their beautiful Collotype Process. JOHN WERGE. _London, June, 1890._ CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION 1 FIRST PERIOD. The Dark Ages 3 SECOND PERIOD. Publicity and Progress 27 THIRD PERIOD. Collodion Triumphant 58 FOURTH PERIOD. Gelatine Successful 95 CHRONOLOGICAL RECORD. Inventions, Discoveries, etc. 126 CONTRIBUTIONS TO PHOTOGRAPHIC LITERATURE. 140 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Frontispiece Portrait of Thomas Wedgwood. " Portrait of Joseph Nicéphore Niépce. " Portrait of Rev. J. B. Reade. " Portrait of Henry Fox Talbot. " Portrait of Sir John Herschel. 27 Portrait of L. J. M. Daguerre. 27 Portrait of John Frederick Goddard. 27 Copy of Instantaneous Daguerreotype. 58 Portrait of Frederick Scott Archer. 58 Hever Castle, Kent. 95 Portrait of Dr. R. L. Maddox. 95 Portrait of Richard Kennett. INDEX. Archer, Frederick Scott, 58-69 Argentic Gelatino-Bromide Paper, 106 Abney's Translation of Pizzighelli and Hubl's Booklet, 109 A String of Old Beads, 309 Bacon, Roger, 3 Bennett, Charles, 102 Boston, 51 Bromine Accelerator, 29 Bingham, Robert J., 87 Burgess, J., 93 Cabinet Portraits, 84 Camera-Obscura, 3 Chronological Record, 126-139 Convention of 1889, 122 Claudet, A. F. J., 29, 86 Chlorine Accelerator, 29 Collodion Process (Archer's), 68 Collodio-Chloride Printing Process, 81 Davy, Sir H., 9 Daguerre, L. J. M., 9, 43 Daguerreotype Process, 23, 24, 25 ---- Apparatus Imported, 29 Diaphanotypes, 71 Dolland, J., 4 Donkin, W. F., 120 Draper, Dr., 107 Dublin Exhibition, 205-226 Eburneum Process, 82 Elliott & Fry, 96 Eosine, &c., 109 Errors in Pictorial Backgrounds, 231 First Photographic Portrait, 107 Fizeau, M., 6, 28 Flash-light Pictures, 118 Gelatino-Bromide Experiments, 91 Globe Lens, 78 Goddard, John Frederick, 28, 79 Harrison, W. H., 87 Heliographic Process, 11, 12, 13 Heliochromy, 88 Herschel, Dr., 6 Herschel, Sir John, 94 Hillotypes, 71 Hughes, Jabez, 55, 75 Hunt, Robert, 117 International Exhibitions, 42, 77, 82, 111 Johnson, J. R., 107 Kennett, R., 96 Lambert, Leon, 98 Laroche, Sylvester, 116 Lea, Carey, 101 "Lux Graphicus" on the Wing, 273-299 Lights and Lighting, 311 Maddox, Dr. R. L., 91 Magic Photographs, 83 Mawson, John, 85 Mayall, J. E., 54 Macbeth, Norman, 120 Montreal, 51 Morgan and Kidd, 106 Newton, Sir Isaac, 3 New York, 48, 71 Niagara, 50 Niépce, J. Nicéphore, 9, 11 Niépce de St. Victor, 88 Niagara, Pictures of, 140-158 Notes on Pictures in National Gallery, 245 Orthochromatic Plates, 115 Panoramic Lens and Camera, 76 Pistolgraph, 76 Pensions to Daguerre and Niépce, 33 Philadelphia, 49 Ponton, Mungo, 22, 103 Poitevin, M., 85, 108 Porta, Baptista G., 3 Potash Bichromate, 22 Pouncy Process, 78 Pictures of the St. Lawrence, 158-169 Pinhole Camera, 117 Pizzighelli's Platinum Printing, 118 Pictures of the Potomac, 183-196 Photography in the North, 226-231 Perspective, 237-244 Photography and the Immured Pompeiians, 303 Rambles among Studios, 196-204 Reade, Rev. J. B., 15-22, 90 Rejlander, O. G., 98 Ritter, John Wm., 5 Rumford, Count, 5 Russell, Col., 117 Sable Island, 47 Salomon, Adam, 84 Sawyer, J. R., 121 Scheele, C. W., 4, 5 Senebier, 5 Simpson, George Wharton, 75, 103 Soda Sulphite, 109 Swan's Carbon Process, 80 Stannotype, 107 Sutton, Thomas, 100 Spencer, J. A., 102 Stereoscopic Pictures, 119 Sharpness and Softness _v._ Hardness, 249 Simple Mode of Intensifying Negatives, 307 Talbot, Henry Fox, 14, 101 Talbot versus Laroche, 54 Taylor, Professor Alfred Swaine, 104 The Hudson River, 169-183 The Society's Exhibition, 260 The Use of Clouds in Landscapes, 265 ---- as Backgrounds in Portraiture, 269 Union of the North and South London Societies, 253 Vogel, Dr. H. W., 109 Washington, 49 Wedgwood Controversy, 80 Wedgwood, Thomas, 7, 8, 9 Whipple Gallery, 52 Wolcott Reflecting Camera, 28 Wollaston's Diaphragmatic Shutter, 115 Wollaston, Dr., 6 Woodbury Process, 82 Wothlytype Printing Process, 81 INTRODUCTION. Photography, though young in years, is sufficiently aged to be in danger of having much of its early history, its infantile gambols, and vigorous growth, obscured or lost sight of in the glitter and reflection of the brilliant success which surrounds its maturity. Scarcely has the period of an average life passed away since the labours of the successful experimentalists began; yet, how few of the present generation of workers can lay their fingers on the dates of the birth, christening, and phases of the delightful vocation they pursue. Many know little or nothing of the long and weary travail the minds of the discoverers suffered before their ingenuity gave birth to the beautiful art-science by which they live. What form the infant art assumed in the earlier stages of its life; or when, where, and how, it passed from one phase to another until it arrived at its present state of mature and profitable perfection. Born with the art, as I may say, and having graduated in it, I could, if I felt so disposed, give an interesting, if not amusing, description of its rise and progress, and the many difficulties and disappointments that some of the early practitioners experienced at a time when photographic A B C's were not printed; its "principles and practice" anything but familiarly explained; and when the "dark room" was as dark as the grave, and as poisonous as a charnel-house, and only occasionally illumined by the glare of a "bull's-eye." But it is not my intention to enter the domain of romance, and give highly coloured or extravagant accounts of the growth of so beautiful and fascinating an art-science. Photography is sufficiently facetious in itself, and too versatile in its powers of delineation of scenes and character, to require any verbose effort of mine to make it attractive. A record of bare facts is all I aim at. Whatever is doubtful I shall leave to the imagination of the reader, or the invention of the romance writer. To arrange in chronological order the various discoveries, inventions, and improvements that have made photography what it is; to do honour to those who have toiled and given, or sold, the fruits of their labour for the advancement of the art; to set at rest, as far as dates can succeed in doing so, any questionable point or order of precedence of merit in invention, application, or modification of a process, and to enable the photographic student to make himself acquainted with the epochs of the art, is the extent of my ambition in compiling these records. With the hope of rendering this work readily referable and most comprehensive, I shall divide it into four periods. The first will deal broadly and briefly with such facts as can be ascertained that in any way bear on the accidental discovery, early researches, and ultimate success of the pioneers of photography. The second will embrace a fuller description of their successes and results. The third will be devoted to a consideration of patents and impediments; and the fourth to the rise and development of photographic literature and art. A strict chronological arrangement of each period will be maintained, and it is hoped that the advantages to be derived from travelling some of the same ground over again in the various divisions of the subject will fully compensate the reader, and be accepted as sufficient excuse for any unavoidable repetition that may appear in the work. With these few remarks I shall at once enter upon the task of placing before the reader in chronological order the origin, rise, progress, and development of the science and art of photography. FIRST PERIOD. THE DARK AGES. More than three hundred years have elapsed since the influence and actinism of light on chloride of silver was observed by the alchemists of the sixteenth century. This discovery was unquestionably the first thing that suggested to the minds of succeeding chemists and men of science the possibility of obtaining pictures of solid bodies on a plane surface previously coated with a silver salt by means of the sun's rays; but the alchemists were too much absorbed in their vain endeavours to convert the base metals into royal ones to seize the hint, and they lost the opportunity of turning the silver compounds with which they were acquainted into the mine of wealth it eventually became in the nineteenth century. Curiously enough, a mechanical invention of the same period was afterwards employed, with a very trifling modification, for the production of the earliest sun-pictures. This was the camera-obscura invented by Roger Bacon in 1297, and improved by a physician in Padua, Giovanni Baptista Porta, about 1500, and afterwards remodelled by Sir Isaac Newton. Two more centuries passed away before another step was taken towards the revelation of the marvellous fact that Nature possessed within herself the power to delineate her own beauties, and, as has recently been proved, that the sun could depict his own terrible majesty with a rapidity and fidelity the hand of man could never attain. The second step towards this grand achievement of science was the construction of the double achromatic combination of lenses by J. Dolland. With single combinations of lenses, such pictures as we see of ourselves to-day, and such portraits of the sun as the astronomers obtained during the late total eclipse, could never have been produced. J. Dolland, the eminent optician, was born in London 1706, and died 1762; and had he not made that important improvement in the construction of lenses, the eminent photographic opticians of the present day might have lived and died unknown to wealth and fame. The observations of the celebrated Swedish chemist, Scheele, formed the next interesting link between the simple and general blackening of a lump of chloride of silver, and the gradations of blackening which ultimately produced the photographic picture on a piece of paper possessing a prepared surface of nitrate of silver and chloride of sodium in combination. Scheele discovered in 1777 that the blackening of the silver compound was due to the reducing power of light, and that the black deposit was _reduced silver_; and it is precisely the same effect of the action of light upon chloride of silver passing through the various densities of the negative that produces the beautiful photographic prints with which we are all familiar at the present time. Scheele was also the first to discover and make known the fact that chloride of silver was blackened or reduced to various depths by the varying action of the prismatic colours. He fixed a glass prism in a window, allowed the refracted sunbeams to fall on a piece of paper strewn with _luna cornua_--fused chloride of silver--and saw that the violet ray was more active than any of the other colours. Anyone, with a piece of sensitised paper and a prism, or piece of a broken lustre, can repeat and see for themselves Scheele's interesting discovery; and anyone that can draw a head or a flower may catch a sunbeam in a small magnifying glass, and make a drawing on sensitised paper with a pencil, as long as the sun is distant from the earth. It is the old story of Columbus and the egg--easy to do when you are shown or told how. Charles William Scheele was born at Stralsund, Sweden, December 19th, 1742, and died at Koeping, on lake Moeler, May 21st, 1786. He was the real father of photography, for he produced the first photographic picture on record without camera and without lens, with the same chemical compound and the same beautiful and wonderful combination of natural colours which we now employ. Little did he dream what was to follow. But photography, like everything else in this world, is a process of evolution. Senebier followed up Scheele's experiments with the solar spectrum, and ascertained that chloride of silver was darkened by the violet ray in fifteen minutes, while the red rays were sluggish, and required twenty minutes to produce the same result. John Wm. Ritter, born at Samitz, in Silesia, corroborated the experiments of Scheele, and discovered that chloride of silver was blackened beyond the spectrum on the violet side. He died in 1810; but he had observed what is now called the fluorescent rays of the spectrum--invisible rays which unquestionably exert themselves in the interests and practice of photography. Many other experiments were made by other chemists and philosophers on the influence of light on various substances, but none of them had any direct bearing on the subject under consideration until Count Rumford, in 1798, communicated to the Royal Society his experiments with chloride of gold. Count Rumford wetted a piece of taffeta ribbon with a solution of chloride of gold, held it horizontally over the clear flame of a wax candle, and saw that the heat decomposed the gold solution, and stained the ribbon a beautiful purple. Though no revived gold was visible, the ribbon appeared to be coated with a rich purple enamel, which showed a metallic lustre of great brilliancy when viewed in the sunlight; but its photographic value lay in the circumstance of the hint it afterwards afforded M. Fizeau in applying a solution of chloride of gold, and, by means of heat, depositing a fine film of metallic gold on the surface of the Daguerreotype image, thereby increasing the brilliancy and permanency of that form of photographic picture. A modification of M. Fizeau's chloride of gold "fixing process" is still used to tone, and imparts a rich purple colour to photographic prints on plain and albumenized papers. In 1800, Dr. Herschel's "Memoirs on the Heating Power of the Solar Spectrum" were published, and out of his observations on the various effects of differently coloured darkening glasses arose the idea that the chemical properties of the prismatic colours, and coloured glass, might be as different as those which related to heat and light. His suspicions were ultimately verified, and hence the use of yellow or ruby glass in the windows of the "dark room," as either of those coloured glasses admit the luminous ray and restrain the violet or active photographic ray, and allow all the operations that would otherwise have to be performed in the dark, to be seen and done in comfort, and without injury to the sensitive film. The researches of Dr. Wollaston, in 1802, had very little reference to photography beyond his examination of the chemical action of the rays of the spectrum, and his observation that the yellow stain of gum guaiacum was converted to a green colour in the violet rays, and that the red rays rapidly destroyed the green tint the violet rays had generated. 1802 is, however, a memorable year in the dark ages of photography, and the disappointment of those enthusiastic and indefatigable pursuers of the sunbeam must have been grievous indeed, when, after years of labour, they found the means of catching shadows as they fell, and discovered that they could not keep them. Thomas Wedgwood, son of the celebrated potter, was not only the first that obtained photographic impressions of objects, but the first to make the attempt to obtain sun-pictures in the true sense of the word. Scheele had obtained the first photographic picture of the solar spectrum, but it was by accident, and while pursuing other chemical experiments; whereas Wedgwood went to work avowedly to make the sunbeam his slave, to enlist the sun into the service of art, and to compel the sun to illustrate art, and to depict nature more faithfully than art had ever imitated anything illumined by the sun before. How far he succeeded everyone should know, and no student of photography should ever tire of reading the first published account of his fascinating pastime or delightful vocation, if it were but to remind him of the treasures that surround him, and the value of hyposulphite of soda. What would Thomas Wedgwood not have given for a handful of that now common commodity? There is a mournfulness in the sentence relative to the evanescence of those sun-pictures in the Memoir by Wedgwood and Davy that is peculiarly impressive and desponding contrasted with our present notions of instability. We know that sun-pictures will, at the least, last for years, while they knew that at the most they would endure but for a few hours. The following extracts from the Memoir published in June, 1802, will, it is hoped, be found sufficiently interesting and in place here to justify their insertion. "White paper, or white leather moistened with solution of nitrate of silver, undergoes no change when kept in a dark place, but on being exposed to the daylight it speedily changes colour, and after passing through different shades of grey and brown becomes at length nearly black.... In the direct beams of the sun, two or three minutes are sufficient to produce the full effect, in the shade several hours are required, and light transmitted through different coloured glasses acts upon it with different degrees of intensity. Thus it is found that red rays, or the common sunbeams passed through red glass, have very little action upon it; yellow and green are more efficacious, but blue and violet light produce the most decided and powerful effects.... When the shadow of any figure is thrown upon the prepared surface, the part concealed by it remains white, and the other parts speedily become dark. For copying paintings on glass, the solution should be applied on leather, and in this case it is more readily acted on than when paper is used. After the colour has been once fixed on the leather or paper, it cannot be removed by the application of water, or water and soap, and it is in a high degree permanent. The copy of a painting or the profile, immediately after being taken, must be kept in an obscure place; it may indeed be examined in the shade, but in this case the exposure should be only for a few minutes; by the light of candles or lamps as commonly employed it is not sensibly affected. "No attempts that have been made to prevent the uncoloured parts of the copy or profile from being acted upon by the light have as yet been successful. They have been covered by a thin coating of fine varnish, but this has not destroyed their susceptibility of becoming coloured, and even after repeated washings, sufficient of the active part of the saline matter will adhere to the white parts of leather or paper to cause them to become dark when exposed to the rays of the sun.... "The images formed by means of a camera-obscura have been found to be too faint to produce, in any moderate time, an effect upon the nitrate of silver. To copy these images was the first object of Mr. Wedgwood, in his researches on the subject, and for this purpose he first used the nitrate of silver, which was mentioned to him by a friend, as a substance very sensible to the influence of light; but all his numerous experiments as to their primary end proved unsuccessful." From the foregoing extracts from the first lecture on photography that ever was delivered or published, it will be seen that those two eminent philosophers and experimentalists despaired of obtaining pictures in the camera-obscura, and of rendering the pictures obtained by superposition, or cast shadows, in any degree permanent, and that they were utterly ignorant and destitute of any fixing agents. No wonder, then, that all further attempts to pursue these experiments should, for a time, be abandoned in England. Although Thomas Wedgwood's discoveries were not published until 1802, he obtained his first results in 1791, and does not appear to have made any appreciable advance during the remainder of his life. He was born in 1771, and died in 1805. Sir Humphry Davy was born at Penzance 1778, and died at Geneva in 1828, so that neither of them lived to see the realization of their hopes. From the time that Wedgwood and Davy relinquished their investigation, the subject appears to have lain dormant until 1814, when Joseph Nicéphore Niépce, of Chalons-sur-Saône, commenced a series of experiments with various resins, with the object of securing or retaining in a permanent state the pictures produced in the camera-obscura, and in 1824, L. J. M. Daguerre turned his attention to the same subject. These two investigators appear to have carried on their experiments in different ways, and in total ignorance of the existence and pursuits of the other, until the year 1826, when they accidentally became acquainted with each other and the nature of their investigations. Their introduction and reciprocal admiration did not, however, induce them to exchange their ideas, or reveal the extent of their success in the researches on which they were occupied, and which both were pursuing so secretly and guardedly. They each preserved a marked reticence on the subject for a considerable time, and it was not until a deed of partnership was executed between them that they confided their hopes and fears, their failures with this substance, and their prospects of success with that; and even after the execution of the deed of partnership they seem to have jealously withheld as much of their knowledge as they decently could under the circumstances. Towards the close of 1827 M. Niépce visited England, and we receive the first intimation of his success in the production of light-drawn pictures from a note addressed to Mr. Bauer, of Kew. It is rather curious and flattering to find that the earliest intimation of the Frenchman's success is given in England. The note which M. Niépce wrote to Mr. Bauer is in French, but the following is a translation of the interesting announcement:--"Kew, 19th November, 1827. Sir,--When I left France to reside here, I was engaged in researches on the way to retain the image of objects by the action of light. I have obtained some results which make me eager to proceed.... Nicéphore Niépce." This is the first recorded announcement of his partial success. In the following December he communicated with the Royal Society of London, and showed several pictures on metal plates. Most of these pictures were specimens of his successful experiments with various resins, and the subjects were rendered visible to the extent which the light had assisted in hardening portions of the resin-covered plates. Some were etchings, and had been subjected to the action of acid after the design had been impressed by the action of light. Several of these specimens, I believe, are still extant, and may be seen on application to the proper official at the British Museum. M. Niépce named these results of his researches Heliography, and Mr. Robert Hunt gives their number, and a description of each subject, in his work entitled, "Researches on Light." M. Niépce met with some disappointment in England on account of the Royal Society refusing to receive his communication as a secret, and he returned to France rather hurriedly. In a letter dated "Chalons-sur-Saône, 1st March, 1828," he says, "We arrived here 26th February"; and, in a letter written by Daguerre, February 3rd, 1828, we find that savant consoling his brother experimentalist for his lack of encouragement in England. In December, 1829, the two French investigators joined issue by executing a deed of co-partnery, in which they agreed to prosecute their researches in future in mutual confidence and for their joint advantage; but their interchange of thought and experience does not appear to have been of much value or advantage to the other; for an examination of the correspondence between MM. Niépce and Daguerre tends to show that the one somewhat annoyed the other by sticking to his resins, and the other one by recommending the use of iodine. M. Niépce somewhat ungraciously expresses regret at having wasted so much time in experimenting with iodine at M. Daguerre's suggestion, but ultimate results fully justified Daguerre's recommendation, and proved that he was then on the right track, while M. Niépce's experiments with resins, asphaltum, and other substances terminated in nothing but tedious manipulations, lengthy exposures, and unsatisfactory results. To M. Niépce, most unquestionably, is due the honour of having produced the first permanent sun-pictures, for we have seen that those obtained by Wedgwood and Davy were as fleeting as a shadow, while those exhibited by M. Niépce in 1827 are still in their original condition, and, imperfect as they are, they are likely to retain their permanency for ever. Their fault lay in neither possessing beauty nor commercial applicability. As M. Niépce died at Chalons-sur-Saône in 1833, and does not appear to have improved his process much, if any, after entering into partnership with M. Daguerre, and as I may not have occasion to allude to him or his researches again, I think this will be the most fitting place to give a brief description of his process, and his share in the labours of bringing up the wonderful baby of science, afterwards named Photography, to a safe and ineffaceable period of its existence. The Heliographic process of M. Niépce consists of a solution of asphaltum, bitumen of Judea, being spread on metal or glass plates, submitted to the action of light either by superposition or in the camera, and the unaffected parts dissolved away afterwards by means of a suitable solvent. But, in case any student of photography should like to produce one of the first form of permanent sun-pictures, I shall give here the details of M. Niépce's own _modus operandi_ for preparing the solution of bitumen and coating the plate:-- "I about half fill a wine-glass with this pulverised bitumen; I pour upon it, drop by drop, the essential oil of lavender until the bitumen is completely saturated. I afterwards add as much more of the essential oil as causes the whole to stand about three lines above the mixture, which is then covered and submitted to a gentle heat until the essential oil is fully impregnated with the colouring matter of the bitumen. If this varnish is not of the required consistency, it is to be allowed to evaporate slowly, without heat, in a shallow dish, care being taken to protect it from moisture, by which it is injured and at last decomposed. In winter, or in rainy weather, the precaution is doubly necessary. A tablet of plated silver, or well cleaned and warm glass, is to be highly polished, on which a thin coating of the varnish is to be applied cold, with a light roll of very soft skin; this will impart to it a fine vermilion colour, and cover it with a very thin and equal coating. The plate is then placed upon heated iron, which is wrapped round with several folds of paper, from which, by this method, all moisture had been previously expelled. When the varnish has ceased to simmer, the plate is withdrawn from the heat, and left to cool and dry in a gentle temperature, and protected from a damp atmosphere. In this part of the operation a light disc of metal, with a handle in the centre, should be held before the mouth, in order to condense the moisture of the breath." In the foregoing description it will be observed how much importance M. Niépce attached to the necessity of protecting the solution and prepared plate from moisture, and that no precautions are given concerning the effect of white light. It must be remembered, however, that the material employed was very insensitive, requiring many hours of exposure either in the camera or under a print or drawing placed in contact with the prepared surface, and consequently such precaution might not have been deemed necessary. Probably M. Niépce worked in a subdued light, but there can be no doubt about the necessity of conducting both the foregoing operations in yellow light. Had M. Niépce performed his operations in a non-actinic light, the plates would certainly have been more sensitive, and the unacted-on parts would have been more soluble; thus rendering both the time of exposure and development more rapid. After the plate was prepared and dried, it was exposed in the camera, or by superposition, under a print, or other suitable subject, that would lie flat. For the latter, an exposure of two or three hours in bright sunshine was necessary, and the former required six or eight hours in a strong light. Even those prolonged exposures did not produce a visible image, and the resultant picture was not revealed to view until after a tedious process of dissolving, for it could scarcely be called development. M. Niépce himself says, "The next operation then is to disengage the _shrouded_ imagery, and this is accomplished by a solvent." The solvent consisted of one measure of the essential oil of lavender and ten of oil of white petroleum or benzole. On removing the tablet from the camera or other object, it was plunged into a bath of the above solvent, and left there until the parts not hardened by light were dissolved. When the picture was fully revealed, it was placed at an angle to drain, and finished by washing it in water. Except for the purpose of after-etching, M. Niépce's process was of little commercial value then, but it has since been of some service in the practice of photo-lithography. That, I think, is the fullest extent of the commercial or artistic advantages derived from the utmost success of M. Niépce's discoveries; but what he considered his failures, the fact that he employed copper plates coated with silver for his heliographic tablets, and endeavoured to darken the clean or clear parts of the silvered plates with the fumes of iodine for the sake of contrast only, may be safely accepted as the foundation of Daguerre's ultimate success in discovering the extremely beautiful and workable process known as the Daguerreotype. M. Niépce appears to have done very little more towards perfecting the heliographic process after joining Daguerre; but the latter effected some improvements, and substituted for the bitumen of Judea the residuum obtained by evaporating the essential oil of lavender, without, however, attaining any important advance in that direction. After the death of M. Nicéphore Niépce, a new agreement was entered into by his son, M. Isidore Niépce, and M. Daguerre, and we must leave those two experimentalists pursuing their discoveries in France while we return to England to pick up the chronological links that unite the history of this wonderful discovery with the time that it was abandoned by Wedgwood and Davy, and the period of its startling and brilliant realization. In 1834, Mr. Henry Fox Talbot, of Lacock Abbey, Wilts, "began to put in practice," as he informs us in his memoir read before the Royal Society, a method which _he_ "had _devised_ some time previously, for employing to purposes of utility the very curious property which has been long known to chemists to be possessed by the nitrate of silver--namely, to discolouration when exposed to the violet rays of light." The statement just quoted places us at once on the debateable ground of our subject, and compels us to pause and consider to what extent photography is indebted to Mr. Talbot for its further development at this period and five years subsequently. In the first place, it is not to be supposed for a moment that a man of Mr. Talbot's position and education could possibly be ignorant of what had been done by Mr. Thomas Wedgwood and Sir Humphry Davy. Their experiments were published in the Journal of the Royal Institution of Great Britain in June, 1802, and Mr. Talbot or some of his friends could not have failed to have seen or heard of those published details; and, in the second place, a comparison between the last records of Wedgwood and Davy's experiments, and the first published details of Mr. Talbot's process, shows not only that the two processes are identically the same, but that Mr. Talbot published his process before he had made a single step in advance of Wedgwood and Davy's discoveries; and that his fixing solution was not a fixer at all, but simply a retardant that delayed the gradual disappearance of the picture only a short time longer. Mr. Talbot has generally been credited with the honour of producing the first permanent sun-pictures on paper; but there are grave reasons for doubting the justice of that honour being entirely, if at all, due to him, and the following facts and extracts will probably tend to set that question at rest, and transfer the laurel to another brow. To the late Rev. J. B. Reade is incontestably due the honour of having first applied tannin as an accelerator, and hyposulphite of soda as a fixing agent, to the production and retention of light-produced pictures; and having first obtained an ineffaceable photograph upon paper. Mr. Talbot's gallate of silver process was not patented or published till 1841; whereas the Rev. J. B. Reade produced paper negatives by means of gallic acid and nitrate of silver in 1837. It will be remembered that Mr. Wedgwood had discovered and stated that the chloride of silver was more sensitive when applied to white leather, and Mr. Reade, by inductive reasoning, came to the conclusion that tanned paper and silver would be more sensitive to light than ordinary paper coated with nitrate of silver could possibly be. As the reverend philosopher's ideas on that subject are probably the first that ever impregnated the mind of man, and as his experiments and observations are the very earliest in the pursuit of a gallic acid accelerator and developer, I will give them in his own words.--"No one can dispute my claim to be the first to suggest the use of gallic acid as a sensitiser for prepared paper, and hyposulphite of soda as a fixer. These are the keystones of the arch at which Davy and Young had laboured--or, as I may say in the language of another science, we may vary the tones as we please, but here is the fundamental base. My use of gallate of silver was the result of an inference from Wedgwood's experiments with leather, 'which is more readily acted upon than paper' (_Journal of the Royal Institution_, vol. i., p. 171). Mrs. Reade was so good as to give me a pair of light-coloured leather gloves, that I might repeat Wedgwood's experiment, and, as my friend Mr. Ackerman reminds me, her little objection to let me have a second pair led me to say, 'Then I will tan paper.' Accordingly I used an infusion of galls in the first instance in the early part of the year 1837, when I was engaged in taking photographs of microscopic objects. By a new arrangement of lenses in the solar microscope, I produced a convergence of the rays of light, while the rays of heat, owing to their different refractions, were parallel or divergent. This fortunate dispersion of the calorific rays enabled me to use objects mounted in balsam, as well as cemented achromatic object glasses; and, indeed, such was the coolness of the illumination, that even _infusoria_ in single drops of water were perfectly happy and playful (_vide_ abstracts of the 'Philosophical Transactions,' December 22nd, 1836). The continued expense of an artist--though, at first, I employed my friend, Lens Aldons--to copy the pictures on the screen was out of the question. I therefore fell back, but without any sanguine expectations as to the result, upon the photographic process adopted by Wedgwood, with which I happened to be well acquainted. It was a _weary while_, however, before any satisfactory impression was made, either on chloride or nitrate paper. I succeeded better with the leather; but my fortunate inability to replenish the little stock of this latter article induced me to apply the tannin solution to paper, and thus I was at once placed, by a very decided step, in advance of earlier experimenters, and I had the pleasure of succeeding where Talbot acknowledges that he failed. "Naturally enough, the solution which I used at first was too strong, but, if you have ever been in what I may call _the agony of a find_, you can conceive my sensations on witnessing the unwilling paper become in a few seconds almost as black as my hat. There was just a passing glimpse of outline, 'and in a moment all was dark.' It was evident, however, that I was in possession of all, and more than all, I wanted, and that the dilution of so powerful an accelerator would probably give successful results. The large amount of dilution greatly surprised me; and, indeed, before I obtained a satisfactory picture, the quantity of gallic acid in the infusion must have been quite homoeopathic; but this is in exact accordance with modern practice and known laws. In reference to this point, Sir John Herschel, writing from Slough, in April, 1840, says to Mr. Redman, then of Peckham (where I had resided), 'I am surprised at the weak solution employed, and how, with such, you have been able to get a depth of shadow sufficient for so very sharp a re-transfer is to me marvellous.' I may speak of Mr. Redmond as a photographic pupil of mine, and at my request, he communicated the process to Sir John, which, 'on account of the extreme clearness and sharpness of the results,' to use Sir John's words, much interested him. "Dr. Diamond also, whose labours are universally appreciated, first saw my early attempts at Peckham in 1837, and heard of my use of gallate of silver, and was thus led to adopt what Admiral Smyth then called 'a quick mode of taking bad pictures'; but, as I told the Admiral in reply, he was born a _baby_. Whether our philosophical baby is 'out of its teens' may be a question; at all events, it is a very fine child, and handles the pencil of nature with consummate skill. "But of all the persons who heard of my new accelerator, it is most important to state that my old and valued friend, the late Andrew Ross, told Mr. Talbot how first of all, by means of the solar microscope, I threw the image of the object on prepared paper, and then, while the paper was yet wet, washed it over with the infusion of galls, when a sufficiently dense negative was quickly obtained. In the celebrated trial, "Talbot _versus_ Laroche," Mr. Talbot, in his cross-examination, and in an almost breathless court, acknowledged that he had received this information from Ross, and from that moment it became the unavoidable impression that he was scarcely justified in taking out a patent for applying my accelerator to any known photogenic paper. "The three known papers were those impregnated with the nitrate, chloride, and the iodide of silver--the two former used by Wedgwood and Young, and the latter by Davy. It is true that Talbot says of the iodide of silver that it is quite insensitive to light, and so it is as he makes it; but when he reduces it to the condition described by Davy--viz., affected by the presence of a little free nitrate of silver--then he must acknowledge, with Davy, that 'it is far more sensitive to the action of light than either the nitrate or the muriate, and is evidently a distinct compound.' In this state, also, the infusion of galls or gallic acid is, as we all know, most decided and instantaneous, and so I found it to be in my early experiments. Of course I tried the effects of my accelerator on many salts of silver, but especially upon the iodide, in consequence of my knowledge of Davy's papers on iodine in the 'Philosophical Transactions.' These I had previously studied, in conjunction with my chemical friend, Mr. Hodgson, then of Apothecaries' Hall. I did not, however, use iodised paper, which is well described by Talbot in the _Philosophical Magazine_ for March, 1838, as a _substitute_ for other sensitive papers, but only as one among many experiments alluded to in my letter to Mr. Brayley. "My pictures were exhibited at the Royal Society, and also at Lord Northampton's, at his lordship's request, in April, 1839, when Mr. Talbot also exhibited his. In my letter to Mr. Brayley, I did not describe iodised pictures, and, therefore, it was held that exhibition in the absence of description left the process legally unknown. Mr. Talbot consequently felt justified in taking out a patent for uniting my _known_ accelerator with Davy's _known_ sensitive silver compound, adopting my method (already communicated to him) with reference to Wedgwood's papers, and adding specific improvements in manipulation. Whatever varied opinion may consequently be formed as to the defence of the patent in court, there can be but one as to the skill of the patentee. "It is obvious that, in the process so conducted by me with the solar microscope, I was virtually _within_ my camera, standing between the object and the prepared paper. Hence the exciting and developing processes were conducted under _one operation_ (subsequently patented by Talbot), and the fact of a latent image being brought out was not forced upon my attention. I did, however, perceive this phenomenon upon one occasion, after I had been suddenly called away, when taking an impression of the _Trientalis Europæa_--and surprised enough I was, and stood in astonishment to look at it. But with all this, I was only, as the judge said, "_very hot_." I did not realize the _master fact_ that the latent image which had been developed was the basis of photographic manipulation. The merit of this discovery is Talbot's, and his only, and I honour him greatly for his skill and earlier discernment. I was, indeed, myself fully aware that the image darkened under the influence of my sensitiser, while I placed my hand before the lens of the instrument to stop out the light; and my solar mezzotint, as I then termed it, was, in fact, brought out and perfected under my own eye by the agency of gallic acid in the infusion, rather than by the influence of direct solar action. But the notion of developing a latent image in these microscopic photographs never crossed my mind, even after I had witnessed such development in the _Trientalis Europæa_. My original notion was that the infusion of galls, added to the wet chloride or nitrate paper while the picture was thrown upon it, produced only a new and highly sensitive compound; whereas, by its peculiar and continuous action after the first impact of light on the now sensitive paper, I was also, as Talbot has shown, employing its property of development as well as excitement. My ignorance of its properties was no bar to its action. However, I threw the _ball_, and Talbot caught it, and no man can be more willing than myself to acknowledge our obligations to this distinguished photographer. He compelled the world to listen to him, and he had something worth hearing to communicate; and it is a sufficient return to me that he publicly acknowledged his obligation to me, with reference to what Sir David Brewster calls 'an essential part of his patent' (_vide North British Review_, No. 14 article--'Photography'). "Talbot did not patent my valuable fixer. Here I had the advantage of having published my use of hyposulphite of soda, which Mr. Hodgson made for me in 1837, when London did not contain an ounce of it for sale. The early operators had no fixer; that was _their fix_; and, so far as any record exists, they got no further in this direction than 'imagining some experiments on the subject!' I tried ammonia, but it acted too energetically on the picture itself to be available for the purpose. It led me, however, to the ammonia nitrate process of printing positives, a description of which process (though patented by Talbot in 1843) I sent to a photographic brother in 1839, and a quotation from my letter of that date has already appeared in one of my communications to _Notes and Queries_. On examining Brande's Chemistry, under the hope of still finding the desired solvent which should have a greater affinity for the simple silver compound on the uncoloured part of the picture than for the portion blackened by light, I happened to see it stated, on Sir John Herschel's authority, that hyposulphite of soda dissolves chloride of silver. I need not now say that I used this fixer with success. The world, however, would not have been long without it, for, when Sir John himself became a photographer in the following year, he first of all used hyposulphite of ammonia, and then permanently fell back upon the properties of his other compound. Two of my solar microscope negatives, taken in 1837, and exhibited with several others by Mr. Brayley in 1839 as illustrations of my letter and of his lecture at the London Institution, are now in the possession of the London Photographic Society. They are, no doubt, the earliest examples of the agency of two chemical compounds which will be co-existent with photography itself, viz., gallate of silver and hyposulphite of soda, and my use of them, as above described, will sanction my claim to be the first to take paper pictures rapidly, and to fix them permanently. "Such is a short account of my contribution to this interesting branch of science, and, in the pleasure of the discovery, I have a sufficient reward." These lengthy extracts from the Rev. Mr. Reade's published letter render further comment all but superfluous, but I cannot resist taking advantage of the opportunity here afforded of pointing out to all lovers of photography and natural justice that the progress of the discovery has advanced to a far greater extent by Mr. Reade's reasoning and experiments than it was by Mr. Talbot's ingenuity. The latter, as Mr. Reade observes, only "caught the ball" and threw it into the Patent Office, with some improvements in the manipulations. Mr. Reade generously ascribes all honour and glory to Mr. Talbot for his shrewdness in seizing what he had overlooked, viz., the development of the latent image; but there is a quiet current of rebuke running all through Mr. Reade's letter about the justice of patenting a known sensitiser and a known accelerator, which he alone had combined and applied to the successful production of a negative on paper. Mr. Talbot's patent process was nothing more, yet he endeavoured to secure a monopoly of what was in substance the discovery and invention of another. Mr. Talbot was either very precipitate, or ill-advised, to rush to the Patent Office with his modification, and even at this distant date it is much to be regretted that he did so, for his rash act has, unhappily for photography, proved a pernicious precedent. Mr. Reade gave his discoveries to the world freely, and the "pleasure of the discovery" was "a sufficient reward." All honour to such discoverers. They, and they only, are the true lovers of science and art, who take up the torch where another laid it down, or lost it, and carry it forward another stage towards perfection, without sullying its brightness or dimming the flame with sordid motives. The Rev. J. B. Reade lived to see the process _he_ discovered and watched over in its embryo state, developed with wondrous rapidity into one of the most extensively applied arts of this marvellous age, and died, regretted and esteemed by all who knew him, December 12th, 1870. Photographers, your occupations are his monument, but let his name be a tablet on your hearts, and his unselfishness your emulation! The year 1838 gave birth to another photographic discovery, little thought of and of small promise at the time, but out of which have flowed all the various modifications of solar and mechanical carbon printing. This was the discovery of Mr. Mungo Ponton, who first observed and announced the effects of the sun's rays upon bichromate of potash. But that gentleman was unwise in his generation, and did not patent his discovery, so a whole host of patent locusts fell upon the field of research in after years, and quickly seized the manna he had left, to spread on their own bread. Mr. Mungo Ponton spread a solution of bichromate of potash upon paper, submitted it under a suitable object to the sun's rays, and told all the world, without charge, that the light hardened the bichromate to the extent of its action, and that the unacted-upon portions could be dissolved away, leaving the object _white_ upon a yellow or orange ground. Other experimenters played variations on Mr. Ponton's bichromate scale, and amongst the performers were M. E. Becquerel, of France, and our own distinguished countryman, Mr. Robert Hunt. During the years that elapsed between the death of M. Niépce and the period to which I have brought these records, little was heard or known of the researches of M. Daguerre, but he was not idle, nor had he abandoned his iodine ideas. He steadily pursued his subject, and worked with a continuity that gained him the unenviable reputation of a lunatic. His persistency created doubts of his sanity, but he toiled on _solus_, confident that he was not in pursuit of an impossibility, and sanguine of success. That success came, hastened by lucky chance, and early in January, 1839, M. Daguerre announced the interesting and important fact that the problem was solved. Pictures in the camera-obscura could be, not only seen, but caught and retained. M. Daguerre had laboured, sought, and found, and the bare announcement of his wonderful discovery electrified the world of science. The electric telegraph could not then flash the fascinating intelligence from Paris to London, but the news travelled fast, nevertheless, and the unexpected report of M. Daguerre's triumph hurried Mr. Talbot forward with a similar statement of success. Mr. Talbot declared his triumph on the 31st of January, 1839, and published in the following month the details of a process which was little, if any, in advance of that already known. Daguerre delayed the publication of his process until a pension of six thousand francs per annum had been secured to himself, and four thousand francs per annum to M. Isidore Niépce for life, with a reversion of one-half to their widows. In the midst of political and social struggles France was proud of the glory of such a marvellous discovery, and liberally rewarded her fortunate sons of science with honourable distinction and substantial emolument. She was proud and generous to a chivalrous extent, for she pensioned her sons that she might have the "glory of endowing the world of science and of art with one of the most surprising discoveries" that had been made on her soil; and, because she considered that "the invention did not admit of being secured by patent;" but avarice and cupidity frustrated her noble and generous intentions in this country, and England alone was harassed with injunctions and prosecutions, while all the rest of the world participated in the pleasure and profits of the noble gift of France. In July, 1839, M. Daguerre divulged his secret at the request and expense of the French Government, and the process which bore his name was found to be totally different, both in manipulation and effect, from any sun-pictures that had been obtained in England. The Daguerreotype was a latent image produced by light on an iodised silver plate, and developed, or made visible, by the fumes of mercury; but the resultant picture was one of the most shimmering and vapoury imaginable, wanting in solidity, colour, and firmness. In fact, photography as introduced by M. Daguerre was in every sense a wonderfully shadowy and all but invisible thing, and not many removes from the dark ages of its creation. The process was extremely delicate and difficult, slow and tedious to manipulate, and too insensitive to be applied to portraiture with any prospect of success, from fifteen to twenty minutes' exposure in bright sunshine being necessary to obtain a picture. The mode of proceeding was as follows:--A copper plate with a coating of silver was carefully cleaned and polished on the silvered side, that was placed, silver side downwards, over a vessel containing iodine in crystals, until the silvered surface assumed a golden-yellow colour. The plate was then transferred to the camera-obscura, and submitted to the action of light. After the plate had received the requisite amount of exposure, it was placed over a box containing mercury, the fumes of which, on the application of a gentle heat, developed the latent image. The picture was then washed in salt and water, or a solution of hyposulphite of soda, to remove the iodide of silver, washed in clean water afterwards, and dried, and the Daguerreotype was finished according to Daguerre's first published process. The development of the latent image by mercury subliming was the most marvellous and unlooked-for part of the process, and it was for that all-important thing that Daguerre was entirely indebted to chance. Having put one of his apparently useless iodized and exposed silver plates into a cupboard containing a pot of mercury, Daguerre was greatly surprised, on visiting the cupboard some time afterwards, to find the blank looking plate converted into a visible picture. Other plates were iodized and exposed and placed in the cupboard, and the same mysterious process of development was repeated, and it was not until this thing and the other thing had been removed and replaced over and over again, that Daguerre became aware that quicksilver, an article that had been used for making mirrors and reflecting images for years, was the developer of the invisible image. It was indeed a most marvellous and unexpected result. Daguerre had devoted years of labour and made numberless experiments to obtain a transcript of nature drawn by her own hand, but all his studied efforts and weary hours of labour had only resulted in repeated failures and disappointments, and it appeared that Nature herself had grown weary of his bungling, and resolved to show him the way. The realization of his hopes was more accidental than inferential. The compounds with which he worked, neither produced a visible nor a latent image capable of being developed with any of the chemicals with which he was experimenting. At last accident rendered him more service than reasoning, and occult properties produced the effect his mental and inductive faculties failed to accomplish; and here we observe the great difference between the two successful discoverers, Reade and Daguerre. At this stage of the discovery I ignore Talbot's claim in _toto_. Reade arrived at his results by reasoning, experiment, observation, and judiciously weakening and controlling the re-agent he commenced his researches with. He had the infinite pleasure and disappointment of seeing his first picture flash into existence, and disappear again almost instantly, but in that instant he saw the cause of his success and failure, and his inductive reasoning reduced his failure to success; whereas Daguerre _found_ his result, was puzzled, and utterly at a loss to account for it, and it was only by a process of blind-man's bluff in his chemical cupboard that he laid his hands on the precious pot of mercury that produced the visible image. That was a discovery, it is true; but a bungling one, at best. Daguerre only worked intelligently with one-half of the elements of success; the other was thrust in his way, and the most essential part of his achievement was a triumphant accident. Daguerre did half the work--or, rather, one-third--light did the second part, and chance performed the rest, so that Daguerre's share of the honour was only one-third. Reade did two-thirds of the process, the first and third, intelligently; therefore to him alone is due the honour of discovering practical photography. His was a successful application of known properties, equal to an invention; Daguerre's was an accidental result arising from unknown causes and effects, and consequently a discovery of the lowest order. To England, then, and not to France, is the world indebted for the discovery of photography, and in the order of its earliest, greatest, and most successful discoverers and advancers, I place the Rev. J. B. Reade first and highest. [Illustration: SECOND PERIOD. DAGUERREOTYPE. L. J. M. DAGUERRE. _Used Iodine, 1839._ JOHN FREDERICK GODDARD. _Applied Bromine, 1840._ NEW YORK. _Copy of Instantaneous Daguerreotype, 1854._] SECOND PERIOD. PUBLICITY AND PROGRESS. 1839 has generally been accepted as the year of the birth of Practical Photography, but that may now be considered an error. It was, however, the Year of Publicity, and the progress that followed with such marvellous rapidity may be freely received as an adversely eloquent comment on the principles of secrecy and restriction, in any art or science, like photography, which requires the varied suggestions of numerous minds and many years of experiment in different directions before it can be brought to a state of workable certainty and artistic and commercial applicability. Had Reade concealed his success and the nature of his accelerator, Talbot might have been bungling on with modifications of the experiments of Wedgwood and Davy to this day; and had Daguerre not sold the secret of his iodine vapour as a sensitiser, and his accidentally discovered property of mercury as a developer, he might never have got beyond the vapoury images he produced. As it was, Daguerre did little or nothing to improve his process and make it yield the extremely vigorous and beautiful results it did in after years. As in Mr. Reade's case with the Calotype process, Daguerre threw the ball and others caught it. Daguerre's advertised improvements of his process were lamentable failures and roundabout ways to obtain sensitive amalgams--exceedingly ingenious, but excessively bungling and impractical. To make the plates more sensitive to light, and, as Daguerre said, obtain pictures of objects in motion and animated scenes, he suggested that the silver plate should first be cleaned and polished in the usual way, then to deposit successively layers of mercury, and gold, and platinum. But the process was so tedious, unworkable, and unsatisfactory, no one ever attempted to employ it either commercially or scientifically. In publishing his first process, with its working details, Daguerre appears to have surrendered all that he knew, and to have been incapable of carrying his discovery to a higher degree of advancement. Without Mr. Goddard's bromine accelerator and M. Fizeau's chloride of gold fixer and invigorator, the Daguerreotype would never have been either a commercial success or a permanent production. 1840 was almost as important a period in the annals of photography as the year of its enunciation, and to the two valuable improvements and one interesting importation, the Daguerreotype process was indebted for its success all over the world; and photography, even as it is practised now, is probably indebted for its present state of advancement to Mr. John Frederick Goddard, who applied bromine, as an accelerator, to the Daguerreotype process this year. In the early part of the Daguerreotype period it was so insensitive there was very little prospect of being able to take portraits with it through a lens. To meet this difficulty Mr. Wolcott, an American optician, constructed a reflecting camera and brought it to London. It was an ingenious contrivance, but did not fully answer the expectations of the inventor. It certainly did not require such a long exposure with this camera as when the rays from the image or sitter passed through a lens; but, as the sensitised plate was placed _between_ the sitter and the reflector, the picture was necessarily small, and neither very sharp nor satisfactory. This was a mechanical contrivance to shorten the time of exposure, which partially succeeded, but it was chemistry, and not mechanics, that effected the desirable result. Both Mr. Goddard and M. Antoine F. J. Claudet, of London, employed chlorine as a means of increasing the sensitiveness of the iodised silver plate, but it was not sufficiently accelerative to meet the requirements of the Daguerreotype process. Subsequently Mr. Goddard discovered that the vapour of bromine, added to that of iodine, imparted an extraordinary degree of sensitiveness to the prepared plate, and reduced the time of sitting from minutes to seconds. The addition of the fumes of bromine to those of iodine formed a compound of bromo-iodide of silver on the surface of the Daguerreotype plate, and not only increased the sensitiveness, but added to the strength and beauty of the resulting picture, and M. Fizeau's method of precipitating a film of gold over the whole surface of the plate still further increased the brilliancy of the picture and ensured its permanency. I have many Daguerreotypes in my possession now that were made over forty years ago, and they are as brilliant and perfect as they were on the day they were taken. I fear no one can say the same for any of Fox Talbot's early prints, or even more recent examples of silver printing. Another important event of this year was the importation of the first photographic lens, camera, &c., into England. These articles were brought from Paris by Sir Hussey Vivian, present M.P. for Glamorganshire (1889). It was the first lot of such articles that the Custom House officers had seen, and they were at a loss to know how to classify it. Finally they passed it under the general head of Optical Instruments. Sir Hussey told me this, himself, several years before he was made a baronet. What changes fifty years have wrought even in the duties of Custom House officers, for the imports and exports of photographic apparatus and materials must now amount to many thousands per annum! Having described the conditions and state of progress photography had attained at the time of my first contact with it, I think I may now enter into greater details, and relate my own personal experiences from this period right up to the end of its jubilee celebration. I was just fourteen years old when photography was made practicable by the publication of the two processes, one by Daguerre, and the other by Fox Talbot, and when I heard or read of the wonderful discovery I was fired with a desire to obtain a sight of these "sun-pictures," but the fire was kept smouldering for some time before my desire was gratified. Nothing travelled very fast in those days. Railroads had not long been started, and were not very extensively developed. Telegraphy, by electricity, was almost unknown, and I was a fixture, having just been apprenticed to an engraving firm hundreds of miles from London. But at last I caught sight of one of those marvellous drawings made by the sun in the window of the Post Office of my native town. It was a small Daguerreotype which had been sent there along with a notice that a licence to practise the "art" could be obtained of the patentee. I forget now what amount the patentee demanded for a licence, but I know that at the time referred to it was so far beyond my means and hopes that I never entertained the idea of becoming a licencee. I believe some one in the neighbourhood bought a licence, but either could not or did not make use of it commercially. Some time after that, a Miss Wigley, from London, came to the town to practise Daguerreotyping, but she did not remain long, and could not, I think, have made a profitable visit. If so, it could scarcely be wondered at, for the sun-pictures of that period were such thin, shimmering reflections, and distortions of the human face divine, that very few people were impressed either by the process or the newest wonder of the world. At that early period of photography, the plates were so insensitive, the sittings so long, and the conditions so terrible, it was not easy to induce anyone either to undergo the ordeal of sitting, or to pay the sum of twenty-one shillings for a very small and unsatisfactory portrait. In the infancy of the Daguerreotype process, the sitters were all placed out-of-doors, in direct sunshine, which naturally made them screw up or shut their eyes, and every feature glistened, and was painfully revealed. Many amusing stories have been told about the trials, mishaps, and disappointments attending those long and painful sittings, but the best that ever came to my knowledge was the following. In the earliest of the forties, a young lady went a considerable distance, in Yorkshire, to sit to an itinerant Daguerreotypist for her portrait, and, being limited for time, could only give one sitting. She was placed before the camera, the slide drawn, lens uncapped, and requested to sit there until the Daguerreotypist returned. He went away, probably to put his "mercury box" in order, or to have a smoke, for it was irksome--both to sitter and operator--to sit or stand doing nothing during those necessarily long exposures. When the operator returned, after an absence of fifteen or twenty minutes, the lady was sitting where he left her, and appeared glad to be relieved from her constrained position. She departed, and he proceeded with the development of the picture. The plate was examined from time to time, in the usual way, but there was no appearance of the lady. The ground, the wall, and the chair whereon she sat, were all visible, but the image of the lady was not; and the operator was completely puzzled, if not alarmed. He left the lady sitting, and found her sitting when he returned, so he was quite unable to account for her mysterious non-appearance in the picture. The mystery was, however, explained in a few days, when the lady called for her portrait, for she admitted that she got up and walked about as soon as he left her, and only sat down again when she heard him returning. The necessity of remaining before the camera was not recognised by that sitter. I afterwards reversed that result myself by focussing the chair, drawing the slide, uncapping the lens, sitting down, and rising leisurely to cap the lens again, and obtained a good portrait without showing a ghost of the chair or anything else. The foregoing is evidence of the insensitiveness of the plates at that early period of the practice of photography; but that state of inertion did not continue long, for as soon as the accelerating properties of bromine became generally known, the time of sitting was greatly reduced, and good Daguerreotype views were obtained by simply uncapping the lens as quickly as possible. I have taken excellent views in that manner myself in England, and, when in America, I obtained instantaneous views of Niagara Falls and other places quite as rapidly and as perfect as any instantaneous views made on gelatine dry plates, one of which I have copied and enlarged to 12 by 10 inches, and may possibly reproduce the small copy in these pages. In 1845 I came into direct contact with photography for the first time. It was in that year that an Irishman named McGhee came into the neighbourhood to practise the Daguerreotype process. He was not a licencee, but no one appeared to interfere with him, nor serve him with an injunction, for he carried on his little portrait business for a considerable time without molestation. The patentee was either very indifferent to his vested interests, or did not consider these intruders worth going to law with, for there were many raids across the borders by camera men in those early days. Several circumstances combined to facilitate the inroads of Scotch operators into the northern counties of England. Firstly, the patent laws of England did not extend to Scotland at that time, so there was a far greater number of Daguerreotypists in Edinburgh and other Scotch towns in the early days of photography than in any part of England, and many of them made frequent incursions into the forbidden land without troubling themselves about obtaining a licence, but somehow they never remained long at a time; they were either afraid of consequences, or did not meet with patronage sufficient to induce them to continue their sojourns beyond a few of the summer weeks. For many years most of the early Daguerreotypists were birds of passage, frequently on the wing. Among the earliest settlers in London, were Mr. Beard (patentee), Mr. Claudet, and Mr. J. E. Mayall--the latter is still alive, 1889--and in Edinburgh, Messrs. Ross and Thompson, Mr. Howie, Mr. Poppawitz, and Mr. Tunny--the latter was a Calotypist--with most of whom it was my good fortune to become personally acquainted in after years. Secondly, a great deal of ill-feeling and annoyance were caused by the incomprehensible and somewhat underhanded way in which the English patent was obtained, and these feelings induced many to poach on photographic preserves, and even to defy injunctions; and, while lawsuits were pending, it was not uncommon for non-licencees to practise the new art with the impunity and feelings common to smugglers. Mr. Beard, the English patentee, brought many actions at law against infringers of his patent rights, the most memorable of which was that where Mr. Egerton, 1, Temple Street, Whitefriars, the first dealer in photographic materials, and agent for Voightlander's lenses in London, was the defendant. During that trial it came out in evidence that the patentee had earned as much as forty thousand pounds in one year by taking portraits and fees from licencees. Though the judgment of the Court was adverse to Mr. Egerton, it did not improve the patentee's moral right to his claim, for the trial only made it all the more public that the French Government had allowed M. Daguerre six thousand francs (£240), and M. Isidore Niépce four thousand francs (£160) per annum, on condition that their discoveries should be published, and _made free to all the world_. This trial did not in any way improve Mr. Beard's financial position, for eventually he became a bankrupt, and his establishments in King William Street, London Bridge, and the Polytechnic Institute, in Regent Street, were extinguished. Mr. Beard, who was the first to practise Daguerreotyping commercially in this country, was originally a coal merchant. I think Mr. Claudet practised the process in London without becoming a licencee, either through previous knowledge, or some private arrangement made with Daguerre before the patent was granted to Mr. Beard. It was while photography was clouded with this atmosphere of dissatisfaction and litigation, that I made my first practical acquaintance with it in the following manner:-- Being anxious to obtain possession of one of those marvellous sun-pictures, and hoping to get an idea of the manner in which they were produced, I paid a visit, one sunny morning, to Mr. McGhee, the Daguerreotypist, dressed in my best, with clean shirt, and stiff stand-up collar, as worn in those days. I was a very young man then, and rather particular about the set of my shirt collar, so you may readily judge of my horror when, after making the financial arrangements to the satisfaction of Mr. McGhee, he requested me to put on a blue cotton _quasi_ clean "dickey," with a limp collar, that had evidently done similar duty many times before. You may be sure I protested, and inquired the reason why I should cover up my white shirt front with such an objectionable article. I was told if I did not put it on my shirt front would be _solarized_, and come out _blue_ or dirty, whereas if I put on the blue "dickey" my shirt front would appear white and clean. What "solarized" meant, I did not know, nor was it further explained, but, as I very naturally wished to appear with a clean shirt front, I submitted to the indignity, and put on the limp and questionably clean "dickey." While the Daguerreotypist was engaged with some mysterious manipulations in a cupboard or closet, I brushed my hair, and contemplated my singular appearance in the mirror somewhat ruefully. O, ye sitters and operators of to-day! congratulate yourselves on the changes and advantages that have been wrought in the practice of photography since then. When Mr. McGhee appeared again with something like two wooden books in his hand, he requested me to follow him into the garden; which was only a back yard. At the foot of the garden, and against a brick wall with a piece of grey cloth nailed over it, I was requested to sit down on an old chair; then he placed before me an instrument which looked like a very ugly theodolite on a tripod stand--that was my first sight of a camera--and, after putting his head under a black cloth, told me to look at a mark on the other side of the garden, without winking or moving till he said "done." How long I sat I don't know, but it seemed an awfully long time, and I have no doubt it was, for I know that I used to ask people to sit five and ten minutes, afterwards. The sittings over, I was requested to re-enter the house, and then I thought I would see something of the process; but no. Again Mr. McGhee went into the mysterious chamber, and shut the door quickly. In a little time he returned and told me that the sittings were satisfactory--he had taken two--and that he would finish and deliver them next day. Then I left without obtaining the ghost of an idea of the _modus operandi_ of producing portraits by the sun, beyond the fact that a camera had been placed before me. Next day the portraits were delivered according to promise, but I confess I was somewhat disappointed at getting so little for my money. It was a very small picture that could not be seen in every light, and not particularly like myself, but a scowling-looking individual, with a limp collar, and rather dirty-looking face. Whatever would _mashers_ have said or done, if they had gone to be photographed in those days of photographic darkness? I was, however, somewhat consoled by the thought that I, at last, possessed one of those wonderful sun-pictures, though I was ignorant of the means of production. Soon after having my portrait taken, Mr. McGhee disappeared, and there was no one left in the neighbourhood who knew anything of the mysterious manipulations of Daguerreotyping. I had, nevertheless, resolved to possess an apparatus and obtain the necessary information, but there was no one to tell me what to buy, where to buy it, nor what to do with it. At last an old friend of mine who had been on a visit to Edinburgh, had purchased an apparatus and some materials with the view of taking Daguerreotypes himself, but finding that he could not, was willing to sell it to me, though he could not tell me how to use it, beyond showing me an image of the house opposite upon the ground glass of the camera. I believe my friend let me have the apparatus for what it cost him, which was about £15, and it consisted of a quarter-plate portrait lens by Slater, mahogany camera, tripod stand, buff sticks, coating and mercury boxes of the roughest description, a few chemicals and silvered plates, and a rather singular but portable dark room. Of the uses of the chemicals I knew very little, and of their nature nothing which led to very serious consequences, which I shall relate in the proper place. Having obtained possession of this marvellous apparatus, my next ardent aspiration was to make a successful use of it. I distinctly remember, even at this distant date, with what nervous curiosity I examined all the articles when I unpacked them in my father's house, and with what wonder, not unmixed with apprehension, my father looked upon that display of unknown, and to him apparently nameless and useless toys. "More like a lot of conjuror's traps than anything else," he exclaimed, after I had set them all out. And a few days after he told one of my young friends that he thought I had gone out of my mind to take up with that "Daggertype" business; the name itself was a stumbling block in those days, for people called the process "dagtype, docktype, and daggertype" more frequently than by its proper name, Daguerreotype. What a contrast now-a-days, when almost every father is an amateur photographer, and encourages both his sons and daughters to become the same. My father was a very good parent, in his way, and encouraged me, to the fullest extent of his means, in the study of music and painting, and even sent me to the Government School of Design, where I studied drawing under W. B. Scott; but the new-fangled method of taking portraits did not harmonise with his conservative and practical notions. One cause of his disapprobation and dissatisfaction was, doubtless, my many failures; in fact, I may say, inability to show him any result. I had acquired an apparatus of the roughest and most primitive construction, but no knowledge of its use or the behaviour of the chemicals employed, beyond the bare numerical order in which they were to be used, and there was no one within a hundred miles of where I lived, that I knew of, who could give me lessons or the slightest hint respecting the process. I had worn out the patience of all my relations and friends in fruitless sittings. I had set fire to my singular dark room, and nearly set fire to the house, by attempting to refill the spirit lamp while alight, and I was ill and suffering from salivation through inhaling the fumes of mercury in my blind, anxious, and enthusiastic endeavours to obtain a sun-picture. It is not long since an eminent photographer told me that I was an enthusiast, but if he had seen me in those days he would, in all probability, have told me that I was mad. Though ill, I was not mad; I was only determined not to be beaten. I was resolved to keep pegging away until I obtained a satisfactory result. My friends laughed at me when I asked them to sit for a trial, and they either refused, or sat with a very bad grace, as if it really were a trial to them; but fancy, fair and kindly readers, what it must have been to me! Finding that my living models fought shy of me and my trials, I then thought of getting a lay figure, and borrowed a large doll--quite as big as a baby--of one of my lady friends. I stuck it up in a garden and pegged away at it for nearly six months. At the end of that time I was able to produce a portrait of the doll with tolerable certainty and success. Then I ventured to ask my friends to sit again, but my process was too slow for life studies, and my live sitters generally moved so much, their portraits were not recognisable. There were no head-rests in those days, at least I did not possess one, or it might have been pleasanter for my sitters and easier for myself. What surprised me very much--and I thought it a singular thing at the time--was my success in copying an engraving of Thorburn's Miniature of the Queen. I made several good and beautiful copies of that engraving, and sent one to an artist friend, then in Devonshire, who wrote to say that it was beautiful, and that if he could get a Daguerreotype portrait with the eyes as clear as that, he would sit at once; but all the "Dagtypes" he had hitherto seen had only black holes where the eyes should be. Unfortunately, that was my own experience. I could copy from the flat well enough, but when I went to the round I went wrong. Ultimately I discovered the cause of all that, and found a remedy, but oh! the weary labour and mental worry I underwent before I mastered the difficulties of the most troublesome and uncertain, yet most beautiful and permanent of all the photographic processes that ever was discovered or invented; and now it is a lost art. No one practises it, and I don't think that there are half-a-dozen men living--myself included--that could at this day go through all the manipulations necessary to produce a good Daguerreotype portrait or picture; yet, when the process was at the height of its popularity, a great number of people pursued it as a profession in all parts of the civilized world, and in the United States of America alone it was estimated in 1854 that there were not less than thirty thousand people making their living as Daguerreans. Few, if any, of the photographers of to-day--whether amateur or professional--know anything of the forms or uses of plates, buffs, lathes, sensitising or developing boxes, gilding stands, or other Daguerreotype appliances; and I am quite certain that there is not a dealer in all England that can furnish at this date a complete set of Daguerreotype apparatus. It was in 1849 that I gilded my first picture--a portrait of one of my friends playing a guitar. I possess that picture now, and, after a lapse of forty years, it is as good and bright as it was on the day that it was taken. It was not a first-class production, but I hoped to do better soon, and on the strength of that hope determined to commence business as a professional Daguerreotypist. While I was considering whether I should pitch my tent permanently in my native town, or take to a nomadic kind of life, similar to what other Daguerreotypists were pursuing, I was helped to a decision by the sudden appearance of a respectable and experienced Daguerreotypist who came and built a "glass house"--the first of its kind--in my native town. This somewhat disarranged my plans, but on the whole it was rather opportune and advantageous than otherwise, for it afforded me an unexpected opportunity of gaining a great deal of practical experience on easy terms. The new comer was Mr. George Brown, who had been an "operator" for Mr. Beard, in London, and as he exhibited much finer specimens of the Daguerreotype process than any I had hitherto seen, I engaged myself to assist him for six months at a small salary. I showed him what I had done, and he showed and told me all that he knew in connection with photography, and thus commenced a business relation that ripened into a friendship that endured as long as he lived. At the end of the six months' engagement I left Mr. Brown, to commence business on my own account, but as neither of us considered that there was room for two Daguerreotypists in a town with a population of _one hundred and twenty thousand_, I was driven to adopt the nomadic mode of life peculiar to the itinerant photographer of the period. That was in 1850. Up to that time I had done nothing in Calotype work. Mr. Brown was strictly a Daguerreotypist, but Mr. Parry, at that time a glass dealer and amateur photographer, was working at the Calotype process, but not very successfully, for nearly all his efforts were spoiled by decomposition, which he could not then account for or overcome, but he eventually became one of the best Calotypists in the neighbourhood, and I became the possessor of some of the finest Calotype negatives he ever produced, many of which are still in my possession. Mr. Parry relinquished his glass business, and became a professional photographer soon after the introduction of the collodion process. Another amateur photographer that I met in those early days was a flute player in the orchestra of the theatre. He produced very good Calotype negatives with a single lens, and was very enthusiastic, but extremely reticent on all photographic matters. About this period I made the acquaintance of Mr. J. W. Swan: I had known him for some time previously when he was apprentice and assistant to Mr. Mawson, chemist, in Mosley Street, Newcastle-on-Tyne. Neither Mr. Mawson nor Mr. Swan were known to the photographic world at that time. Mr. Mawson was most popular as a dealer in German yeast, and I think it was not until after Archer published his process that they began to make collodion and deal in photographic materials--at any rate, I did not buy any photographic goods of them until 1852, when I first began to use Mawson's collodion. In October, 1850, I went to Hexham, about twenty miles west of Newcastle-on-Tyne, to make my first appearance as a professional Daguerreotypist. I rented a sitting-room with a good window and clear view, so as to take "parlour portraits." I could only take small pictures--two and a half by two inches--for which I charged half a guinea, and was favoured with a few sittings; but it was a slow place, and I left it in a few weeks. The next move I made was to Seaham Harbour, and there I did a little better business, but the place was too small and the people too poor for me to continue long. Half guineas were not plentiful, even among the tradespeople, and there were very few gentlefolk in the neighbourhood. Some of the townspeople were very kind to me, and invited me to their homes, and although my sojourn was not very profitable, it was very pleasant. I had many pleasant rambles on the sands, and often looked at Seaham Hall and thought of Byron and his matrimonial disappointment in his marriage with Miss Milbank. From Seaham Harbour I went to Middlesborough, hoping to do more business among a larger population, but it appeared as if I were only going from bad to worse. At that date the population was about thirty thousand, but chiefly people of the working classes, employed at Balchow and Vaughn's and kindred works. I made portraits of some of the members of Mr. Balchow's family, Mr. Geordison, and some of the resident Quakers, but altogether I did not do much more than pay expenses. I managed, however, to stay there till the year 1851, when I caught the World's Fair fever, so I packed up my apparatus and other things I did not require immediately, and sent them to my father's house, and with a few changes in my carpet-bag, and a little money in my pocket, I started off to see the Great Exhibition in London. I went by way of York and Hull, with the two-fold object of seeing some friends in both places, and to prospect on the business chances they might afford. At York I found Mr. Pumphrey was located, but as he did not appear to be fully occupied with sitters--for I found him trying to take a couple of boys fighting in a back yard--I thought there was not room for another Daguerreotypist in York. In a few days I went to Hull, but even there the ground was preoccupied, so I took the first steamer for London. We sailed on a Saturday night, and after a pleasant voyage arrived at the wharf below London Bridge early on Sunday evening. I put up at the "Yorkshire Grey," in Thames Street, where I met several people from the North, also on a visit to London to see the Great Exhibition. This being my first visit to London, I was anxious to get a sight of the streets and crowds therein, so, after obtaining some refreshment, I strolled out with one of my fellow passengers to receive my first impressions of the great metropolis. The evening was fine, and, being nearly the longest day, there was light enough to enable me to see the God-forsaken appearance of Thames Street, the dismal aspect of Fish Street Hill, and the gloomy column called "The Monument" that stands there to remind citizens and strangers of the Great Fire of 1666; but I was both amazed and amused with the life and bustle I saw on London Bridge and other places in the immediate neighbourhood, but my eyes and ears soon became fatigued with the sights and sounds of the lively and noisy thoroughfares. After a night's rest, which was frequently broken by cries of "Stop thief!" and the screams of women, I arose and made an early start for the Great Exhibition of 1851. Of all the wonderful things in that most wonderful exhibition, I was most interested in the photographic exhibits and the beautiful specimens of American Daguerreotypes, both portraits and landscapes, especially the views of Niagara Falls, which made me determine to visit America as soon as ever I could make the necessary arrangements. While examining and admiring those very beautiful Daguerreotypes, I little thought that I was standing, as it were, between the birth of one process and the death of another; but so it was, for the newly-born collodion process very soon annihilated the Daguerreotype, although the latter process had just reached the zenith of its beauty. In the March number of the _Chemist_, Archer's Collodion Process was published, and that was like the announcement of the birth of an infant Hercules, that was destined to slay a beautiful youth whose charms had only arrived at maturity. But there was really a singular and melancholy coincidence in the birth of the Collodion Process and the early death of the Daguerreotype, for Daguerre himself died on July 10th, 1851, so that both Daguerre and his process appeared to receive their death blows in the same year. I don't suppose that Daguerre died from a shock to his system, caused by the publication of a rival process, for it is not likely that he knew anything about the invention of a process that was destined, in a very few years, to abolish his own--living as he was in the retirement of his native village, and enjoying his well-earned pension. As Daguerre was the first of the successful discoverers of photography to be summoned by death, I will here give a brief sketch of his life and pursuits prior to his association with Nicéphore Niépce and photography. Louis Jacques Mandé Daguerre was born at Cormeilles, near Paris, in 1787, of poor and somewhat careless parents, who appear to have bestowed upon him more names than attention. Though they did not endow him with a good education, they had the good sense to observe the bent of his mind and apprentice him to a theatrical scene painter. In that situation he soon made his mark, and his artistic and mechanical abilities, combined with industry, painstaking, and boldness of conception, soon raised him to the front rank of his profession, in which he gained both honour and profit. Like all true artists, he was fond of sketching from nature; and, to save time and secure true proportion, he employed such optical appliances as were then at his command. Some of his biographers say that he, like Fox Talbot, employed the camera lucida; others the camera-obscura; as there is a considerable difference between the two it would be interesting to know which it really was. At any rate it was one of these instruments which gave him the notion and created the desire to secure the views as they were presented by the lens or reflector. Much of his time was devoted to the painting and construction of a diorama which was first exhibited in 1822, and created quite a sensation in Paris. As early as 1824 he commenced his photographic experiments, with very little knowledge on the subject; but with the hope and determination of succeeding, by some means or other, in securing the pictures as Nature painted them on the screen or receiver. Doubtless he was sanguine enough then to hope to be able to obtain colours as well as drawings, but he died without seeing that accomplished, and so will many others. What he did succeed in accomplishing was marvellous, and quite entitled him to all the honour and emolument he received, but he only lived about twelve years after his discovery. He was, however, saved the mortification of seeing his beautiful discovery discarded and cast away in the hey-day of its beauty and perfection. After a few weeks sojourn in London, seeing all the sights and revisiting all the Daguerreotype studios, I turned my back on the great city and my footsteps homewards again. As soon as I reached home I unpacked my apparatus and made arrangements for another campaign with the camera at some of the sea-side resorts, with the hope of making up for lost time and money through visiting London. I had looked at Scarborough and found the Brothers Holroyd located there; at Whitby, Mr. Stonehouse; and I did not like the appearance of Redcar, so I settled upon Tynemouth, and did fairly well for a short season. About the end of October I went on to Carlisle, but a Scotchman had already preceded me there, and I thought one Daguerreotypist was quite enough for so small a place, and pushed on to Penrith, where I settled for the winter and gradually worked up a little connection, and formed some life-long friendships. I was the first Daguerreotypist who had visited the town of Penrith, and while there I made Daguerreotypes of Sir George and Lady Musgrave and family, and some members of the Lonsdale family. It was through the kindness of Miss Lowther that I was induced to go to Whitehaven, but I did not do much business there, so, after a bad winter, I resolved to go to America in the spring, and made arrangements for the voyage immediately. Thinking that I would find better apparatus and appliances in America, I disposed of my "Tent and Kit," closed up my affairs, bid adieu to my relatives and friends, and departed. To obtain the benefit and experience of a long sea voyage, I secured a cabin passage in a sailing ship named the _Amazon_, and sailed from Shields towards the end of April, 1853. We crossed the Tyne bar late in the evening with a fair wind, and sailed away for the Pentland Frith so as to gain the Atlantic by sailing all round the North of Scotland. I was rather upset the first night, but recovered my appetite next morning. We entered the Pentland Frith on the Saturday afternoon, and were running through the Channel splendidly, when the carpenter came to report water in the well--I forget how many feet--but he thought it would not be safe to attempt crossing the Atlantic. I was a little alarmed at this, but the captain took it very coolly, and ordered the ship to be pumped every watch. Being the only passenger, I became a kind of chum and companion to the captain, and as we sat over our grog that night in the cabin our conversation naturally turned upon the condition of the ship, when he remarked that he was disappointed, and that he "expected he had got a sound ship under his feet this time." These words did not make much impression upon me then, but I had reason to comprehend their meaning afterwards. I was awoke early on the Sunday morning by the noise caused by the working of the pumps, and on going on deck found that we were becalmed, lying off the coast of Caithnesshire, and the water pouring out of the pump-hole in a continuous stream. After breakfast, and while sitting on the taffrail of the quarterdeck along with the captain, waiting for a breeze, I asked him if he intended to cross the Atlantic in such a leaky vessel. He answered "Yes, and the men are all willing." So I thought if these men were not afraid of the ship foundering, I need not be; but I had reasons afterwards for coming to an opposite conclusion. Towards evening the breeze sprang up briskly, and away we went, the ship heading W.N.W., as the captain said he wanted to make the northern passage. Next morning we were in a rather rough sea, and a gale of wind blowing. One of the yards was broken with the force of the wind, and the sail and broken yard dangled about the rigging for a considerable time before the sail could be hauled in and the wreckage cleared up. We had several days of bad weather, and one morning when I got up I found the ship heading East. I naturally concluded that we were returning, but the captain said that he had only turned the ship about to enable the men to stop a leak in her bows. The carpenter afterwards told me that the water came in there like a river during the night. Thus we went on through variable weather until at last we sighted two huge icebergs, and then Newfoundland, when the captain informed me that he intended now to coast up to New York. We got out of sight of land occasionally, and one day, after the captain had taken his observations and worked out the ship's position, he called my attention to the chart, and observed that he intended to sail between an island and the mainland, but as the Channel was subject to strong and variable currents, it was a rather dangerous experiment. Being in such a leaky ship, I thought he wanted to hug the land as much as possible, which I considered a very wise and safe proceeding; but he had ulterior objects in view, which the sequel will reveal. On the night of the 31st of May, after a long yarn from the captain about how he was once wrecked on an iceberg, I turned in with a feeling of perfect safety, for the sea was calm, the night clear, and the wind fair and free; but about daylight next morning I was awoke with a shock, a sudden tramping on deck, and the mate shouting down the companion stairs, "Captain, the ship's ashore." Both the captain and I rushed on deck just as we jumped out of our berths, but we could not see anything of the land or shore, for we were enveloped in a thick fog. We heard the breakers and felt the thud of the waves as they broke upon the ship, but whether we had struck on a rock or grounded on a sandy beach we could not then ascertain. The captain ordered the sails to be "slewed back" and a hawser to be thrown astern, but all efforts to get the ship off were in vain, for with every wave the ship forged more and more on to the shore. As the morning advanced, the fog cleared away a little, which enabled us to see dimly through the mist the top of a bank of yellow sand. This sight settled the doubt as to our whereabouts, and the captain immediately gave the order "Prepare to abandon the ship." The long boat was at once got ready, and lowered with considerable difficulty, for the ship was then more among the breakers. After a good deal of delay and danger, we all succeeded in leaving the ship and clearing the breakers. We were exposed in the open boats all that day and night, and about ten o'clock next morning we effected a landing on the lee side of the island, which we ascertained to be Sable Island, a bald crown of one of the banks of Newfoundland. Here we received help, shelter, and provisions, all provided by the Home and Colonial Governments, for the relief of shipwrecked people, for this island was one of the places where ships were both accidentally and wilfully wrecked. We were obliged to stay there sixteen days before we could get a vessel to take us to Halifax, Nova Scotia, the nearest port, and would possibly have had to remain on the island much longer, but for a mutiny among the crew. I could describe some strange and startling incidents in connection with the wreck and mutiny, but I will not allow myself to be tempted further into the vale of divergence, as the chief object I have in view is my reminiscence of photography. On leaving Sable Island I was taken to Halifax, where I waited the arrival of the Cunard steamer _Niagara_, to take me on to Boston; thence I proceeded by rail and steamer to New York, where I arrived about the end of June, 1853. On landing in New York I only knew one individual, and not knowing how far I should have to go to find him I put up at an hotel on Broadway, but soon found that too expensive for my means, and went to a private boarding house as soon as I could. Visiting all the leading Daguerreotypists on Broadway, I was somewhat astonished at their splendid reception rooms, and the vast number of large and excellent specimens exhibited. Their plain Daguerreotypes were all of fine quality, and free from the "buff lines" so noticeable in English work at that period; but all their attempts at colouring were miserable failures, and when I showed one of my coloured specimens to Mr. Gurney, he said, "Well, if you can colour one of my pictures like that I'll believe you;" which I soon did, and very much to his astonishment. In those days I prepared my own colours, and Mr. Gurney bought a box immediately. The principal Daguerreotypists in New York at that time were Messrs. Brady, Gurney, Kent, Lawrence, Mead Brothers, and Samuel Root, and I called upon them all before I entered into any business arrangements, finally engaging myself to Messrs. Mead Brothers as a colourist and teacher of colouring for six months, and while fulfilling that engagement I gave lessons to several "Daguerreans," and made the acquaintance of men from all parts of the Union, for I soon obtained some notoriety throughout the States in consequence of a man named Humphrey attacking me and my colouring process in a photographic journal which bore his name, as well as in the _New York Tribune_. I replied to his attack in the columns of the _Tribune_, but I saw that he had a friend on the staff, and I did not feel inclined to continue the controversy. Mr. Humphrey knew nothing about my process, but began and continued the discussion on his knowledge of what was known as the "Isinglass Process," which was not mine. After completing my engagements with Messrs. Mead Brothers, I made arrangements to supply the stock dealers with my prepared colours, and travel the States myself to introduce them to all the Daguerreans residing in the towns and cities I should visit. In the principal cities I found all the Daguerreans quite equal to the best in New York, and all doing good business, and I gave lessons in colouring to most of them. In Newark I met Messrs. Benjamin and Polson; in Philadelphia, Marcus Root and Dr. Bushnell. I encountered a great many _doctors_ and _professors_ in the business in America. In Baltimore, Maryland--then a slave State--many of the Daguerreans owned slaves. In Washington D.C., I renewed my acquaintance with Mr. George Adams, one of the best Daguerreans in the City; and while visiting him a very curious thing occurred. One of the representatives of the South came in to have his portrait taken, and the first thing he did was to lay a revolver and a bowie knife on the table beside him. He had just come from the House of Representatives. His excuse for such a proceeding was that he had bought some slaves at the market at Alexandria, and was going to take them home that night. He was a very tall man, and when he stood up against the background his head was above it. As he wanted to be taken standing, this put Mr. Adams into a dilemma, and he asked what he should do. I thought the only thing that could be done was to move the background up and down during exposure, which we did, and so obviated the appearance of a line crossing the head. While staying in Washington I attended one of the levées at the White House, and was introduced to President Pearce. There was no fuss or difficulty in gaining admission. I had only to present my card at the door, and the City Marshall at once led me into the room where the President, surrounded by some of his Cabinet, was waiting to receive, and I was introduced. After a cordial shake of his hand, I passed on to another saloon where there was music and promenading in mixed costumes, for most of the men were dressed as they liked, and some of the ladies wore bonnets. It was the weekly _sans cérémonie_ reception. Finding many of the people of Washington very agreeable and hospitable, I stayed there a considerable time. When I started on the southern journey I did intend to go on to New Orleans, but I stayed so long in Philadelphia and Washington the summer was too far advanced, and as a rather severe outbreak of yellow fever had occurred, I returned to New York and took a journey northward, visiting Niagara Falls, and going on to Canada. I sailed up the Hudson River, stopping at Albany and Troy. At the latter place I met an Englishman, named Irvine, a Daguerrean who treated me hospitably, and for whom I coloured several Daguerreotypes. He wanted me to stay with him, but that I declined. Thence I proceeded to Rochester, and there found that one of my New York pupils had been before me, representing himself as Werge the colourist, for when I introduced myself to the principal Daguerrean he told me that Werge--a very different man--had been there two or three weeks ago. I discovered who the fellow was, and that he had practised a piece of Yankee smartness for which I had no redress. From Rochester I proceeded to Buffalo, where I met with another instance of Yankee smartness of a different kind. I had sold some colours to a man there who paid me in dollar bills, the usual currency of the country, but when I tendered one of these bills for payment at the hotel, it was refused. I next offered it on board a steamboat, but there it was also declined. When I had an opportunity I returned it to the man who gave it to me, and requested him to send me a good one instead. He was honest enough to do that, and impudent enough to tell me that he knew it was bad when he gave it to me, but as I was a stranger he thought I might pass it off easily. I next went to Niagara Falls, where it was my good fortune to encounter two very different specimens of American character in the persons of Mr. Easterly and Mr. Babbitt, the former a visitor and the latter a resident Daguerrean, who held a monopoly from General Porter to Daguerreotype the Falls and visitors. He had a pavilion on the American side of the Falls, under which his camera was in position all day long, and when a group of visitors stood on the shore to survey the Falls from that point, he took the group--without their knowledge--and showed it to the visitors before they left. In almost every instance he sold the picture at a good price; the people were generally delighted to be taken at the Falls. I need hardly say that they were all taken instantaneously, and embraced a good general view, including the American Fall, Goat Island, the Horse Shoe Fall, and the Canadian shore. Many of these views I coloured for Mr. Babbitt, but there was always a beautiful green colour on the brink of the Horse Shoe Fall which I never could match. For many years I possessed one of Mr. Babbitt's Daguerreotype views, as well as others taken by Mr. Easterly and myself, but I had the misfortune to be deprived of them all by fire. Some years after I lent them to an exhibition in Glasgow, which was burnt down, and all the exhibits destroyed. After a delightful sojourn of three weeks at Niagara Falls, I took steamer on the lower Niagara River, sailed down to Lake Ontario, and down the River St. Lawrence, shooting the Lachine Rapids, and on to Montreal. In the Canadian City I did not find business very lively, so after viewing the fine Cathedral of Notre Dame, the mountain, and other places, I left Montreal and proceeded by rail to Boston. The difference between the two cities was immense. Montreal was dull and sleepy, Boston was all bustle and life, and the people were as unlike as the cities. On my arrival in Boston, I put up at the Quincy Adams Hotel, and spent the first few days in looking about the somewhat quaint and interesting old city, hunting up Franklin Associations, and revolutionary landmarks, Bunker Hill, and other places of interest. Having satisfied my appetite for these things, I began to look about me with an eye to business, and called upon the chief Daguerreans and photographers in Boston. Messrs. Southworth and Hawes possessed the largest Daguerreotype establishment, and did an excellent business. In their "Saloon" I saw the largest and finest revolving stereoscope that was ever exhibited. The pictures were all whole-plate Daguerreotypes, and set vertically on the perpendicular drum on which they revolved. The drum was turned by a handle attached to cog wheels, so that a person sitting before it could see the stereoscopic pictures with the utmost ease. It was an expensive instrument, but it was a splendid advertisement, for it drew crowds to their saloon to see it and to sit, and their enterprise met with its reward. At Mr. Whipple's gallery, in Washington Street, a dual photography was carried on, for he made both Daguerreotypes and what he called "crystallotypes," which were simply plain silver prints obtained from collodion negatives. Mr. Whipple was the first American photographer who saw the great commercial advantages of the collodion process over the Daguerreotype, and he grafted it on the elder branch of photography almost as soon as it was introduced. Indeed, Mr. Whipple's establishment may be considered the very cradle of American photography as far as collodion negatives and silver prints are concerned, for he was the very first to take hold of it with spirit, and as early as 1853 he was doing a large business in photographs, and teaching the art to others. Although I had taken collodion negatives in England with Mawson's collodion in 1852, I paid Mr. Whipple fifty dollars to be shown how he made his collodion, silver bath, developer, printing, &c., &c., for which purpose he handed me over to his active and intelligent assistant and newly-made partner, Mr. Black. This gave me the run of the establishment, and I was somewhat surprised to find how vast and varied were his mechanical appliances for reducing labour and expediting work. The successful practice of the Daguerreotype art greatly depended on the cleanness and highly polished surface of the silvered plates, and to secure these necessary conditions, Mr. Whipple had, with characteristic and Yankee-like ingenuity, obtained the assistance of a steam engine which not only "drove" all the circular cleaning and buffing wheels, but an immense circular fan which kept the studio and sitters delightfully cool. Machinery and ingenuity did a great many things in Mr. Whipple's establishment in the early days of photography. Long before the Ambrotype days, pictures were taken on glass and thrown upon canvas by means of the oxyhydrogen light for the use of artists. At that early period of the history of photography, Messrs. Whipple and Black did an immense "printing and publishing" trade, and their facilities were "something considerable." Their toning, fixing, and washing baths were almost worthy the name of vats. Messrs. Masury and Silsby were also early producers of photographs in Boston, and in 1854 employed a very clever operator, Mr. Turner, who obtained beautiful and brilliant negatives by iron development. On the whole, I think Boston was ahead of New York for enterprise and the use of mechanical appliances in connection with photography. I sold my colours to most of the Daguerreotypists, and entered into business relations with two of the dealers, Messrs. French and Cramer, to stock them, and then started for New York to make arrangements for my return to England. When I returned to New York the season was over, and everyone was supposed to be away at Saratoga Springs, Niagara Falls, Rockaway, and other fashionable resorts; but I found the Daguerreotype galleries all open and doing a considerable stroke of business among the cotton planters and slave holders, who had left the sultry south for the cooler atmosphere of the more northern States. The Daguerreotype process was then in the zenith of its perfection and popularity, and largely patronised by gentlemen from the south, especially for large or double whole-plates, about 16 by 12 inches, for which they paid fifty dollars each. It was only the best houses that made a feature of these large pictures, for it was not many of the Daguerreans that possessed a "mammoth tube and box"--_i.e._, lens and camera--or the necessary machinery to "get up" such large surfaces, but all employed the best mechanical means for cleaning and polishing their plates, and it was this that enabled the Americans to produce more brilliant pictures than we did. Many people used to say it was the climate, but it was nothing of the kind. The superiority of the American Daguerreotype was entirely due to mechanical appliances. Having completed my business arrangements and left my colours on sale with the principal stock dealers, including the Scovill Manufacturing Company, Messrs. Anthony, and Levi Chapman. I sailed from New York in October 1854, and arrived in England in due time without any mishap, and visiting London again as soon as I could, I called at Mr. Mayall's gallery in Regent Street to see Dr. Bushnell, whom I knew in Philadelphia, and who was then operating for Mr. Mayall. While there Mr. Mayall came in from the Guildhall, and announced the result of the famous trial, "Talbot _versus_ Laroche," a verbatim report of which is given in the Journal of the Photographic Society for December 21st, 1854. Mr. Mayall was quite jubilant, and well he might be, for the verdict for the defendant removed the trammels which Mr. Fox Talbot attempted to impose upon the practice of the collodion process, which was Frederick Scott Archer's gift to photographers. That was the first time that I had met Mr. Mayall, though I had heard of him and followed him both at Philadelphia and New York, and even at Niagara Falls. At that time Mr. Mayall was relinquishing the Daguerreotype process, though one of the earliest practitioners, for he was in business as a Daguerreotypist in Philadelphia from 1842 to 1846, and I know that he made a Daguerreotype portrait of James Anderson, the tragedian, in Philadelphia, on Sunday, May 18th, 1845. During part of the time that he was in Philadelphia he was in partnership with Marcus Root, and the name of the firm was "Highschool and Root," and about the end of 1846 Mr. Mayall opened a Daguerreotype studio in the Adelaide Gallery, King William Street, Strand, London, under the name of Professor Highschool, and soon after that he opened a Daguerreotype gallery in his own name in the Strand, which establishment he sold to Mr. Jabez Hughes in 1855. The best Daguerreotypists in London in 1854 were Mr. Beard, King William Street, London Bridge; Messrs. Kilburn, T. R. Williams and Claudet, in Regent Street; and W. H. Kent, in Oxford Street. The latter had just returned from America, and brought all the latest improvements with him. Messrs. Henneman and Malone were in Regent Street doing calotype portraits. Henneman had been a servant to Fox Talbot, and worked his process under favourable conditions. Mr. Lock was also in Regent Street, doing coloured photographs. He offered me a situation at once, if I could colour photographs as well as I could colour Daguerreotypes, but I could not, for the processes were totally different. M. Manson, an old Frenchman, was the chief Daguerreotype colourist in London, and worked for all the principal Daguerreotypists. I met the old gentleman first in 1851, and knew him for many years afterwards. He also made colours for sale. Not meeting with anything to suit me in London, I returned to the North, calling at Birmingham on my way, where I met Mr. Whitlock, the chief Daguerreotypist there, and a Mr. Monson, who professed to make Daguerreotypes and all other types. Paying a visit to Mr. Elisha Mander, the well-known photographic case maker, I learnt that Mr. Jabez Hughes, then in business in Glasgow, was in want of an assistant, a colourist especially. Having met Mr. Hughes in Glasgow in 1852, and knowing what kind of man he was, I wrote to him, and was engaged in a few days. I went to Glasgow in January, 1855, and then commenced business relations and friendship with Mr. Hughes that lasted unbroken until his death in 1884. My chief occupation was to colour the Daguerreotypes taken by Mr. Hughes, and occasionally take sitters, when Mr. Hughes was busy, in another studio. I had not, however, been long in Glasgow, when Mr. Hughes determined to return to London. At first he wished me to accompany him, but it was ultimately arranged that I should purchase the business, and remain in Glasgow, which I did, and took possession in June, Mr. Hughes going to Mr. Mayall's old place in the Strand, London. Mr. Hughes had been in Glasgow for nearly seven years, and had done a very good business, going first as operator to Mr. Bernard, and succeeding to the business just as I was doing. While Mr. Hughes was in Glasgow he was very popular, not only as a Daguerreotypist, but as a lecturer. He delivered a lecture on photography at the Literary and Philosophical Society, became an active member of the Glasgow Photographic Society, and an enthusiastic member of the St. Mark's Lodge of Freemasons. Only a day or two before he left Glasgow, he occupied the chair at a meeting of photographers, comprising Daguerreotypists and collodion workers, to consider what means could be adopted to check the downward tendency of prices even in those early days. I was present, and remember seeing a lady Daguerreotypist among the company, and she expressed her opinion quite decidedly. Efforts were made to enter into a compact to maintain good prices, but nothing came of it. Like all such bandings together, the band was quickly and easily broken. I had the good fortune to retain the best of Mr. Hughes's customers, and make new ones of my own, as well as many staunch and valuable friends, both among what I may term laymen and brother Masons, while I resided in Glasgow. Most of my sitters were of the professional classes, and the _elite_ of the city, among whom were Sir Archibald Alison, the historian, Col. (now General) Sir Archibald Alison, Dr. Arnott, Professor Ramsey, and many of the princely merchants and manufacturers. Some of my other patrons--for I did all kinds of photographic work--were the late Norman Macbeth, Daniel McNee (afterwards Sir Daniel), and President of the Scottish Academy of Art, and also Her Majesty the Queen, for she bought two of my photographs of Glasgow Cathedral, and a copy of my illustration of Hood's "Song of the Shirt," copies of which I possess now, and doubtless so does Her Majesty. One of the most interesting portraits I remember taking while I was in Glasgow was that of John Robertson, who constructed the first marine steam engine. He was associated with Henry Bell, and fitted the "Comet" with her engine. Mr. Napier senr., the celebrated engineer on the Clyde, brought Robertson to sit to me, and ordered a great many copies. I also took a portrait of Harry Clasper, of rowing and boat-building notoriety, which was engraved and published in the _Illustrated London News_. Several of my portraits were engraved both on wood and steel, and published. At the photographic exhibition in connection with the meeting of the British Association held in Glasgow, in 1855, I saw the largest collodion positive on glass that ever was made to my knowledge. The picture was thirty-six inches long, a view of Gourock, or some such place down the Clyde, taken by Mr. Kibble. The glass was British plate, and cost about £1. I thought it a great evidence of British pluck to attempt such a size. When I saw Mr. Kibble I told him so, and expressed an opinion that I thought it a waste of time, labour, and money not to have made a negative when he was at such work. He took the hint, and at the next photographic exhibition he showed a silver print the same size. Mr. Kibble was an undoubted enthusiast, and kept a donkey to drag his huge camera from place to place. My pictures frequently appeared at the Glasgow exhibition, but at one, which was burnt down, I lost all my Daguerreotype views of Niagara Falls, Whipple's views of the moon, and many other valuable pictures, portraits, and views, which could never be replaced. [Illustration: THIRD PERIOD. COLLODION. FREDERICK SCOTT ARCHER. _From Glass Positive by R. Cade, Ipswich. 1855._ HEVER CASTLE, KENT. _Copy of Glass Positive taken by F. Scott Archer in 1849._] THIRD PERIOD. COLLODION TRIUMPHANT. In 1857 I abandoned the Daguerreotype process entirely, and took to collodion solely; and, strangely enough, that was the year that Frederick Scott Archer, the inventor, died. Like Daguerre, he did not long survive the publication and popularity of his invention, nor did he live long enough to see his process superseded by another. In years, honours, and emoluments, he fell far short of Daguerre, but his process had a much longer existence, was of far more commercial value, benefitting private individuals and public bodies, and creating an industry that expanded rapidly, and gave employment to thousands all over the world; yet he profited little by his invention, and when he died, a widow and three children were left destitute. Fortunately a few influential friends bestirred themselves in their interest, and when the appeal was made to photographers and the public to the Archer Testimonial, the following is what appeared in the pages of _Punch_, June 13th, 1857:-- "To the Sons of the Sun. "The inventor of collodion has died, leaving his invention unpatented, to enrich thousands, and his family unportioned to the battle of life. Now, one expects a photographer to be almost as sensitive as the collodion to which Mr. Scott Archer helped him. A deposit of silver is wanted (gold will do), and certain faces, now in the dark chamber, will light up wonderfully, with an effect never before equalled by photography. A respectable ancient writes that the statue of Fortitude was the only one admitted to the Temple of the Sun. Instead whereof, do you, photographers, set up Gratitude in your little glass temples of the sun, and sacrifice, according to your means, in memory of the benefactor who gave you the deity for a household god. Now, answers must not be negatives." The result of that appeal, and the labours of the gentlemen who so generously interested themselves on behalf of the widow and orphans, was highly creditable to photographers, the Photographic Society, Her Majesty's Ministers, and Her Majesty the Queen. What those labours were, few now can have any conception; but I think the very best way to convey an idea of those labours and their successful results will be to reprint a copy of the final report of the committee. The Report of the Committee of the Archer Testimonial. "The Committee of the Archer Testimonial, considering it necessary to furnish a statement of the course pursued towards the attainment of their object, desire to lay before the subscribers and the public generally a full report of their proceedings. "Shortly after the death of Mr. F. Scott Archer, a preliminary meeting of a few friends was held, and it was determined that a printed address should be issued to the photographic world. "Sir William Newton, cordially co-operating in the movement, at once made application to Her Most Gracious Majesty. The Queen, with her usual promptitude and kindness of heart, forwarded a donation of £20 towards the Testimonial. The Photographic Society of London, at the same time, proposed a grant of £50, and this liberality on the part of the Society was followed by an announcement of a list of donations from individual members, which induced your Committee to believe that if an appeal were made to the public, and those practising the photographic art, a sum might be raised sufficiently large, not only to relieve the immediate wants of the widow and children, but to purchase a small annuity, and thus in a slight degree compensate for the heavy loss they had sustained by the premature death of one to whom the photographic art had already become deeply indebted. "To aid in the accomplishment of this design, Mr. Mayall placed the use of his rooms at the service of a committee then about to be formed. Sir William Newton and Mr. Roger Fenton consented to act as treasurers to the fund, and the Union, and London and Westminster Banks kindly undertook to receive subscriptions. "Your Committee first met on the 8th day of June, 1857, Mr. Digby Wyatt being called to the chair, when it was resolved to ask the consent of Professors Delamotte and Goodeve to become joint secretaries. These duties were willingly accepted, and subscription lists opened in various localities in furtherance of the Testimonial. "Your Committee met on the 8th day of July, and again on the 4th day of September, when, on each occasion, receipts were announced and paid into the bankers. "The Society of Arts having kindly offered, through their Secretary, the use of apartments in the house of the Society for any further meetings, your Committee deemed it expedient to accept the same, and passed a vote of thanks to Mr. Mayall for the accommodation previously afforded by that gentleman. "Your Committee, believing that the interests of the fund would be better served by a short delay in their proceedings, resolved on deferring their next meeting until the month of November, or until the Photographic Society should resume its meetings, when a full attendance of members might be anticipated; it being apparent that individually and collectively persons in the provinces had withheld their subscriptions until the grant of the Photographic Society of London had been formally sanctioned at a special meeting convened for the purpose, and that their object--the purchase of an annuity for Mrs. Archer and her children--could only be effected by the most active co-operation among all classes. "Your Committee again met on the 26th of November, when it was resolved to report progress to the general body of subscribers, and that a public meeting be called for the purpose, at which the Lord Chief Baron Pollock should be requested to preside. To this request the Lord Chief Baron most kindly and promptly acceded; and your Committee determined to seek the co-operation of their photographic friends and the public to enable them to carry out in its fullest integrity the immediate object of securing some small acknowledgment for the eminent services rendered to photography by the late Mr. Archer. "At this meeting it was stated that an impression existed, which to some extent still exists, that Mr. Archer was not the originator of the Collodion Process; your Committee, therefore, think it their duty to state emphatically that they are fully satisfied of the great importance of the services rendered by him, as an original inventor, to the art of photography. "Professor Hunt, having studied during twenty years the beautiful art of photography in all its details, submitted to the Committee the following explanation of Mr. Archer's just right:-- "'As there appears to be some misconception of the real claim of Mr. Archer to be considered as a _discoverer_, it is thought desirable to state briefly and distinctly what we owe to him. There can be no doubt that much of the uncertainty which has been thought by some persons to surround the introduction of collodion, has arisen from the unobtrusive character of Mr. Archer himself, who deferred for a considerable period _the publication of the process of which he was the discoverer_. "'When Professor Schönbein, of Basle, introduced gun-cotton at the meeting of the British Association at Southampton in 1846, the solubility of this curious substance in ether was alluded to. Within a short time collodion was employed in our hospitals for the purposes of covering with a film impervious to air abraded surfaces on the body; its peculiar electrical condition was also known and exhibited by Mr. Hall, of Dartford, and others. "'The beautiful character of the collodion film speedily led to the idea of using it as a medium for receiving photographic agents, and experiments were made by spreading the collodion on paper and on glass, to form with it sensitive tablets. These experiments were all failures, owing to the circumstance that the collodion was regarded merely as a sheet upon which the photographic materials were to be spread; the dry collodion film being in all cases employed. "'To Mr. Archer, who spent freely both time and money in experimental research, it first occurred to dissolve in the collodion itself the iodide of potassium. By this means he removed every difficulty, and became the inventor of the collodion process. The pictures thus obtained were exhibited, and some of the details of the process communicated by Mr. Scott Archer in confidence to friends before he published his process. This led, very unfortunately, to experiments by others in the same direction, and hence there have arisen claims in opposition to those of this lamented photographer. Everyone, however, acquainted with the early history of the collodion process freely admits that Mr. Archer was the _sole inventor of iodized collodion_, and of those manipulatory details which still, with very slight modifications, constitute the collodion process, and he was the first person who published any account of the application of this remarkable accelerating agent, by which the most important movement has been given to the art of photography.' "Your committee, in May last, heard with deep regret of the sudden death of the widow, Mrs. Archer, which melancholy event caused a postponement of the general meeting resolved upon in November last. Sir Wm. Newton thereupon resolved to make another effort to obtain a pension for the three orphan children, now more destitute than ever, and so earnestly did he urge their claim upon the Minister, Lord Derby, that a reply came the same day from his lordship's private secretary, saying, 'The Queen has been pleased to approve of a pension of fifty pounds per annum being paid from the Civil List to the children of the late Mr. Frederick Scott Archer, in consideration of the scientific discoveries of their father,' his lordship adding his regrets 'that the means at his disposal have not enabled him to do more in this case.' Your committee, to mark their sense of the value of the services rendered to the cause by Sir William Newton, thereupon passed a vote of thanks to him. In conclusion, your committee have to state that a trust deed has been prepared, free of charge, by Henry White, Esq., of 7, Southampton Street, which conveys the fund collected to trustees, to be by them invested in the public securities for the sole benefit of the orphan children. The sum in the Union Bank now amounts to £549 11s. 4d., exclusive of interest, and the various sums--in all about £68--paid over to Mrs. Archer last year. Thus far, the result is a subject for congratulation to the subscribers and your committee, whose labours have hitherto not been in vain. Your committee are, nevertheless, of opinion that an appeal to Parliament might be productive of a larger recognition of the claim of these orphan children--a claim not undeserving the recognition of the Legislature, when the inestimable boon bestowed upon the country is duly considered. Since March 1851, when Mr. Archer described his process in the pages of the _Chemist_, how many thousands must in some way or other have been made acquainted with the immense advantages it offers over all other processes in the arts, and how many instances could be adduced in testimony of its usefulness? For instance, its value to the Government during the last war, in the engineering department, the construction of field works, and in recording observations of historical and scientific interest. Your committee noticed that an attractive feature of the Photographic Society's last exhibition was a series of drawings and plans, executed by the Royal Engineers, in reduction of various ordnance maps, at a saving estimated at £30,000 to the country. The non-commissioned officers of this corps are now trained in this art, and sent to different foreign stations, so that in a few years there will be a network of photographic stations spread over the world, and having their results recorded in the War Department, and, in a short time, all the world will be brought under the subjugation of art. "Mr. Warren De la Rue exhibited to the Astronomical Society, November, 1857, photographs of the moon and Jupiter, taken by the collodion process in five seconds, of which the Astronomer-Royal said, 'that a step of very great importance had been made, and that, either as regards the self-delineation of clusters of stars, nebulæ, and planets, or the self-registration of observations, it is impossible at present to estimate the value.' When admiring the magnificent photographic prints which are now to be seen in almost every part of the civilized world, an involuntary sense of gratitude towards the discoverer of the collodion process must be experienced, and it cannot but be felt how much the world is indebted to Mr. Archer for having placed at its command the means by which such beautiful objects are presented. How many thousands amongst those who owe their means of subsistence to this process must have experienced such a feeling of gratitude? It is upon such considerations that the public have been, and still are, invited to assist in securing for the orphan children of the late Mr. Archer some fitting appreciation of the service which he rendered to science, art, his country--nay, to the whole world. "M. Digby Wyatt, _Chairman_, "Jabez Hogg, _Secretary to Committee_. "_Society of Arts, July, 1858._" After reading that report, and especially Mr. Hunt's remarks, it will appear evident to all that even that act of charity, gratitude, and justice could not be carried through without someone raising objections and questioning the claims of Frederick Scott Archer as the original inventor of the Collodion process. Nearly all the biographers and historians of photography have coupled other names with Archer's, either as assistants or co-inventors, but I have evidence in my possession that will prove that neither Fry nor Diamond afforded Archer any assistance whatever, and that Archer preceded all the other claimants in his application of collodion. In support of the first part of this statement, I shall give extracts from Mrs. Archer's letter, now in my possession, which, I think, will set that matter at rest for ever. Mrs. Archer, writing from Bishop Stortford on December 7th, 1857, says, "When Mr. A. prepared pupils for India he always taught the paper process as well as the Collodion, for fear the chemicals should cause disappointment in a hot climate, as I believe that the negative paper he prepared differed from that in general use. I enclosed a specimen made in our glass house. "In Mr. Hunt's book, as well as Mr. Horne's, Mr. Fry's name is joined with Mr. Archer's as the originators of the Collodion process. "Should Mr. Hunt seem to require any corroboration of what I have stated respecting Mr. Fry, I can send you many of Mr. Fry's notes of invitation, when Mr. A. merely gave him lessons in the application of collodion, and Mr. Brown gave me the correspondence which passed between him and Mr. Fry on the subject at the time Mr. Home's book was published. I did not send up those papers, for, unless required, it is useless to dwell on old grievances, but I should like such a man as Mr. Hunt to understand _how_ the association of the two names originated." As to priority of application, the following letter ought to settle that point:-- "_Alma Cottage, Bishop Stortford._ "_9th December, 1857._ "Sir,--My hunting has at length proved successful. In the enclosed book you will find notes respecting the paper pulp, albumen, tanno-gelatine, and collodion. You will therein see Mr. Archer's notes of iod-collodion in 1849. You may wonder that I could not find this note-book before, but the numbers of papers that there are, and the extreme disorder, defy description. My head was in such a deplorable state before I left that I could arrange nothing. Those around me were most anxious to destroy _all the papers_, and I had great trouble to keep all with Mr. Archer's handwriting upon them, however dirty and rubbishing they might appear, so they were huddled together, a complete chaos. I look back with the greatest thankfulness that my brain did not completely lose its balance, for I had not a single relative who entered into Mr. Archer's pursuits, so that they could not possibly assist me. "Mr. Archer being of so reserved a character, I had to _find out_ where everything was, and my search has been amongst different things. I need not tell you that I hope this dirty enclosure will be taken care of. "The paper pulp occupied much time; in fact, notes were only made of articles which had been much tried, which might probably be brought into use.--I am, sir, yours faithfully, "_J. Hogg, Esq._ F. G. Archer." If the foregoing is not evidence sufficient, I have by me a very good _glass positive_ of Hever Castle, Kent, which was taken in the spring of 1849, and two collodion negatives made by Mr. Archer in the autumn of 1848; and these dates are all vouched for by Mr. Jabez Hogg, who was Mr. Archer's medical attendant and friend, and knew him long before he began his experiments with collodion--whereas I cannot find a trace even of the _suggestion_ of the application of collodion in the practice of photography either by Gustave Le Gray or J. R. Bingham prior to 1849; while Mr. Archer's note-book proves that he was not only iodizing collodion at that date, but making experiments with paper pulp and _gelatine_; so that Mr. Archer was not only the inventor of the collodion process, but was on the track of its destroyer even at that early date. He also published his method of bleaching positives and intensifying negatives with bichloride of mercury. Frederick Scott Archer was born at Bishop Stortford in 1813, but there is little known of his early life, and what little there is I will allow Mrs. Archer to tell in her own way. "Dear Sir,--I do not know whether the enclosed is what you require; if not, be kind enough to let me know, and I must try to supply you with something better. I thought you merely required particulars relating to photography. Otherwise Mr. Archer's career was a singular one: Losing his parents in childhood, he lived in a world of his own; I think you know he was apprenticed to a bullion dealer in the city, where the most beautiful antique gems and coins of all nations being constantly before him, gave him the desire to model the figures, and led him to the study of numismatics. He worked so hard at nights at these pursuits that his master gave up the last two years of his time to save his life. He only requested him to be on the premises, on account of his extreme confidence in him. "Many other peculiarities I could mention, but I dare say you know them already. "I will send a small case to you, containing some early specimens and gutta-percha negatives, with a copy of Mr. A.'s portrait, which I found on leaving Great Russell Street, and have had several printed from it. It is not a good photograph, but I think you will consider it a likeness. I am, yours faithfully, "_J. Hogg, Esq._ F. G. Archer." Frederick Scott Archer pursued the double occupation of sculptor and photographer at 105, Great Russell Street. It was there he so persistently persevered in his photographic experiments, and there he died in May, 1857, and was interred in Kensal Green Cemetery. A reference to the report of the Committee will show what was done for his bereaved family--a widow and three children. Mrs. Archer followed her husband in March, 1858, and two of the children died early; but one, Alice (unmarried), is still alive and in receipt of the Crown pension of fifty pounds per annum. While the collodion episode in the history of photography is before my readers, and especially as the process is rapidly becoming extinct, I think this will be a suitable place to insert Archer's instructions for making a _soluble_ gun-cotton, iodizing collodion, developing, and fixing the photographic image. _Gun-Cotton_ (_or Pyroxaline, as it was afterwards named_). Take of dry nitre in powder 40 parts Sulphuric acid 60 " Cotton 2 " The sulphuric acid and the nitre were mixed together, and immediately the latter was all dissolved, the gun-cotton was added and well stirred with a glass rod for about two minutes; then the cotton was plunged into a large bowl of water and well washed with repeated changes of water until the acid and nitre were washed away. The cotton was then pressed and dried, and converted into collodion by dissolving 30 grains of gun-cotton in 18 fluid ounces of ether and 2 ounces of alcohol--putting the cotton into the ether first, and then adding the alcohol; the collodion allowed to settle and decanted prior to iodizing. The latter operation was performed by adding a sufficient quantity of iodide of silver to each ounce of the plain collodion. Mr. Archer tells how to make the iodide of silver, but the quantity is regulated by the quantity of alcohol in the collodion. When the iodized collodion was ready for use, a glass plate was cleaned and coated with it, and then sensitised by immersion in a bath of nitrate of silver solution--30 grains of nitrate of silver to each ounce of distilled water. From three to five minutes' immersion in the silver bath was generally sufficient to sensitise the plate. This, of course, had to be done in what is commonly called a _dark room_. After exposure in the camera, the picture was developed by pouring over the surface of the plate a solution of pyrogallic acid of the following proportions:-- Pyrogallic acid 5 grains Distilled water 10 ounces Glacial acetic acid 40 minims After the development of the picture it was washed and fixed in a solution of hyposulphite of soda, 4 ounces to 1 pint of water. The plate was then washed and dried. This is an epitome of the whole of Archer's process for making either negatives or positives on glass, the difference being effected by varying the time of exposure and development. Of course the process was somewhat modified and simplified by experience and commercial enterprise. Later on bromides were added to the collodion, an iron developer employed, and cyanide of potassium as a fixing agent; but the principle remained the same from first to last. When pyrogallic acid was first employed in photography, it was quoted at 21s. per oz., and, if I remember rightly, I paid 3s. for the first _drachm_ that I purchased. On referring to an old price list I find Daguerreotype plates, 2-1/2 by 2 inches, quoted at 12s. per dozen; nitrate of silver, 5s. 6d. per oz.; chloride of gold, 5s. 6d. for 15 grains; hyposulphite of soda at 5s. per lb.; and a half-plate rapid portrait lens by Voightlander, of Vienna, at £60. Those were the days when photography might well be considered expensive, and none but the wealthy could indulge in its pleasures and fascinations. While I lived in Glasgow, competition was tolerably keen, even then, and amongst the best "glass positive men" were Messrs. Bibo, Bowman, J. Urie, and Young and Sun, as the latter styled himself; and in photographic portraiture, plain and coloured, by the collodion process, were Messrs. Macnab and J. Stuart. From the time that I relinquished the Daguerreotype process, in 1857, I devoted my attention to the production of high-class collodion negatives. I never took kindly to _glass positives_, though I had done some as early as 1852. They were never equal in beauty and delicacy to a good Daguerreotype, and their low tone was to me very objectionable. I considered the Ferrotype the best form of collodion positive, and did several of them, but my chief work was plain and coloured prints from collodion negatives, also small portraits on visiting cards. Early in January, 1860, my home and business were destroyed by fire, and I lost all my old and new specimens of Daguerreotypes and photographs, all my Daguerreotype and other apparatus, and nearly everything I possessed. As I was only partially insured, I suffered considerable loss. After settling my affairs I decided on going to America again and trying my luck in New York. Family ties influenced this decision considerably, or I should not have left Glasgow, where I was both prosperous and respected. To obtain an idea of the latest and best aspects of photography, I visited London and Paris. The carte-de-visite form of photography had not exhibited much vitality at that period in London, but in Paris it was beginning to be popular. While in London I accompanied Mr. Jabez Hughes to the meeting of the Photographic Society, Feb. 7th, 1860, the Right Honorable the Lord Chief Baron Pollock in the chair, when the report of the Collodion Committee was delivered. The committee, consisting of F. Bedford, P. Delamotte, Dr. Diamond, Roger Fenton, Jabez Hughes, T. A. Malone, J. H. Morgan, H. P. Robinson, Alfred Rosling, W. Russell Sedgefield, J. Spencer, and T. R. Williams, strongly recommended Mr. Hardwich's formula. That was my first visit to the Society, and I certainly did not think then that I should ever see it again, or become and be a member for twenty-two years. I sailed from Liverpool in the ss. _City of Baltimore_ in March, and reached New York safely in April, 1860. I took time to look about me, and visited all the "galleries" on Broadway, and other places, before deciding where I should locate myself. Many changes had taken place during the six years I had been absent. Nearly all the old Daguerreotypists were still in existence, but all of them, with the exception of Mr. Brady, had abandoned the Daguerreotype process, and Mr. Brady only retained it for small work. Most of the chief galleries had been moved higher up Broadway, and a mania of magnificence had taken possession of most of the photographers. Mr. Anson was the first to make a move in that direction by opening a "superb gallery" on the ground floor in Broadway right opposite the Metropolitan Hotel, filling his windows with life-sized photographs coloured in oil at the back, which he called Diaphanotypes. He did a large business in that class of work, especially among visitors from the Southern States; but that was soon to end, for already there were rumours of war, but few then gave it any serious consideration. Messrs. Gurney and Sons' gallery was also a very fine one, but not on the ground floor. Their "saloon" was upstairs, This house was one of the oldest in New York in connection with photography. In the very early days, Mr. Gurney, senr., was one of the most eminent "professors" of the Daguerreotype process, and was one of the committee appointed to wait upon the Rev. Wm. Hill, a preacher in the Catskills, to negotiate with the reverend gentlemen (?) for his vaunted secret of photography in natural colours. As the art progressed, or the necessity for change arose, Mr. Gurney was ready to introduce every novelty, and, in later years, in conjunction with Mr. Fredericks, then in partnership with Mr. Gurney, he introduced the "Hallotype," not Hillotype, and the "Ivorytype." Both these processes had their day. The former was photography spoiled by the application of Canada balsam and very little art; the latter was the application of a great deal of art to spoil a photograph. The largest of all the large galleries on Broadway was that of Messrs. Fredericks and Co. The whole of the ground and first floor were thrown into one "crystal front," and made a very attractive appearance. The windows were filled with life-sized portraits painted in oil, crayons, and other styles, and the walls of the interior were covered with life-sized portraits of eminent men and beautiful women. The floor was richly carpeted, and the furnishing superb. A gallery ran round the walls to enable the visitors to view the upper pictures, and obtain a general view of the "saloon," the _tout ensemble_ of which was magnificent. From the ground floor an elegant staircase led to the galleries, toilet and waiting rooms, and thence to the operating rooms or studios. Some of the Parisian galleries were fine, but nothing to be compared with Fredericks', and the finest establishment in London did not bear the slightest comparison. Mr. Brady was another of the early workers of the Daguerreotype process, and probably the last of his _confrères_ to abandon it. He commenced business in the early forties in Fulton Street, a long way down Broadway, but as the sea of commerce pressed on and rolled over the strand of fashion, he was obliged to move higher and higher up Broadway, until he reached the corner of Tenth Street, nearly opposite Grace Church. Mr. Brady appeared to set the Franklin maxim, "Three removes as bad as a fire," at defiance, for he had made three or four moves to my knowledge--each one higher and higher to more elegant and expensive premises, each remove entailing the cost of more and more expensive furnishing, until his latest effort in upholstery culminated in a superb suite of black walnut and green silk velvet; in short, Longfellow's "Excelsior" appeared to be the motto of Mr. Brady. Messrs. Mead Brothers, Samuel Root, James Cady, and George Adams ought to receive "honourable mention" in connection with the art in New York, for they were excellent operators in the Daguerreotype days, and all were equally good manipulators of the collodion process and silver printing. After casting and sounding about, like a mariner seeking a haven on a strange coast, I finally decided on buying a half interest in the gallery of Mead Brothers, 805, Broadway; Harry Mead retaining his, or his wife's share of the business, but leaving me to manage the "uptown" branch. This turned out to be an unfortunate speculation, which involved me in a lawsuit with one of Mead's creditors, and compelled me to get rid of a very unsatisfactory partner in the best way and at any cost that I could. Mead's creditor, by some process of law that I could never understand, stripped the gallery of all that belonged to my partner, and even put in a claim for half of the fixtures. Over this I lost my temper, and had to pay, not the piper, but the lawyer. I also found that Mrs. Henry Mead had a bill of sale on her husband's interest in the business, which I ended by buying her out. Husband and wife are very seldom one in America. Soon after getting the gallery into my own hands, refurnishing and rearranging, the Prince of Wales's visit to New York was arranged, and as the windows of my gallery commanded a good view of Broadway, I let most of them very advantageously, retaining the use of one only for myself and family. There were so many delays, however, at the City Hall and other places on the day of the procession, that it was almost dark when the Prince reached 805, Broadway, and all my guests were both weary of waiting so long, and disappointed at seeing so little of England's future King. When I recommenced business on Broadway on my own account there was only one firm taking cartes-de-visite, and I introduced that form of portrait to my customers, but they did not take very kindly to it, though a house not far from me was doing a very good business in that style at three dollars a dozen, and Messrs. Rockwood and Co. appeared to be monopolising all the carte-de-visite business that was being done in New York; but eventually I got in the thin edge of the wedge by exhibiting _four_ for one dollar. This ruse brought in sitters, and I began to do very well until Abraham Lincoln issued his proclamation calling for one hundred thousand men to stamp out the Southern rebellion. I remember that morning most distinctly. It was a miserably wet morning in April, 1861, and all kinds of business received a shock. People looked bewildered, and thought of nothing but saving their money and reducing their expenses. It had a blighting effect on my business, and I, not knowing, like others, where it might land me, determined to get rid of my responsibilities at any cost, so I sold my business for a great deal less than it was worth, and at a very serious loss. The outbreak of that gigantic civil war and a severe family bereavement combined, induced me to return to England as soon as possible. Before leaving America, in all probability for ever, I went to Washington to bid some friends farewell, and while there I went into Virginia with a friend on Sunday morning, July 21st, and in the afternoon saw the smoke and heard the cannonading of the first battle of Bull Run, and witnessed, next morning, the rout and rush into Washington of the demoralised fragments of the Federal army. I wrote and sent a description of the stampede to a friend in Glasgow, which he handed over to the _Glasgow Herald_ for publication, and I have reason to believe that my description of that memorable rout was the first that was published in Great Britain. As soon as I could settle my affairs I left New York with my family, and arrived in London on the 15th of September, 1861. It was a beautiful sunny day when I landed, and, after all the trouble and excitement I had so recently seen and experienced, London, despite its business and bustle, appeared like a heaven of peace. Mr. Jabez Hughes was about the last to wish me "God speed" when I left England, so he was the first I went to see when I returned. I found, to my disappointment, that he was in Paris, but Mrs. Hughes gave me a hearty welcome. After a few days' sojourn in London I went to Glasgow with the view of recommencing in that city, where I had many friends; but while there, and on the very day that I was about to sign for the lease of a house, Mr. Hughes wrote to offer me the management of his business in Oxford Street. It did not take me long to decide, and by return post that same night I wrote accepting the offer. I concluded all other arrangements as quickly as possible, returned to London, and entered upon my managerial duties on the 1st November, 1861. I had long wished and looked out for an opportunity to settle in London and enlarge my circle of photographic acquaintance and experience, so I put on my new harness with alacrity and pleasure. Among the earliest of my new acquaintances was George Wharton Simpson, Editor of the Photographic News. He called at Oxford Street one evening while I was the guest of Mr. Hughes, by whom we were introduced, and we spent a long, chatty, and pleasant evening together, talking over my American experience and matters photographic; but, to my surprise, much of our conversation appeared in the next issue of his journal (_vide_ Photographic News, October 11th, 1861, pp. 480-1). But that was a power, I afterwards ascertained, which he possessed to an eminent degree, and which he utilized most successfully at his "Wednesday evenings at home," when he entertained his photographic friends at Canonbury Road, N. Very delightful and enjoyable those evenings were, and he never failed to cull paragraphs for the Photographic News from the busy brains of his numerous visitors. He was a genial host, and his wife was a charming hostess; and his daughter Eva, now the wife of William Black the novelist, often increased the charm of those evenings by the exhibition of her musical abilities. It is often a wonder to me that other editors of photographic journals don't pursue a similar plan, for those social re-unions were not only pleasant, but profitable to old friend Simpson. Through Mr. Simpson's "at homes," and my connection with Mr. Hughes, I made the acquaintance of nearly all the eminent photographers of the time, amongst whom may be mentioned W. G. Lacy, of Ryde, I.W. The latter was a very sad and brief acquaintanceship, for he died in Mr. Hughes's sitting-room on the 21st November, 1861, in the presence of G. Wharton Simpson, Jabez Hughes, and myself, and, strangely enough, it was entirely through this death that Mr. Hughes went to Ryde, and became photographer to the Queen. Mr. Lacy made his will in Mr. Hughes's sitting-room, and Mr. Simpson sole executor, who sold Mr. Lacy's business in the Arcade, Ryde, I.W., to Mr. Hughes, and in the March following he took possession, leaving me solely in charge of his business in Oxford Street, London. About this time Mr. Skaife introduced his ingenious pistolgraph, but it was rather in advance of the times, for the dry plates then in the market were not quite quick enough for "snap shots," though I have seen some fairly good pictures taken with the apparatus. At this period a fierce controversy was raging about lunar photography, but it was all unnecessary, as the moon had photographed herself under the guidance of Mr. Whipple, of Boston, U.S., as early as 1853, and all that was required to obtain a lunar picture was sufficient exposure. On December 3rd, 1861, Thomas Ross read a paper and exhibited a panoramic lens and camera at a meeting of the Photographic Society, and on the 15th October, 1889, I saw the same apparatus, in perfect condition, exhibited as a curiosity at the Photographic Society's Exhibition. No wonder the apparatus was in such good condition, for I should think it had never been used but once. The plates were 10 inches long, and curved like the crescent of a new moon. Cleaning board, dark slide, and printing-frame, were all curved. Fancy the expense and trouble attending the use of such an apparatus; I should think it had few buyers. Certainly I never sold one, and I never met with any person who had bought one. Amateurs have ever been the most restless and discontented disciples of the "Fathers of Photography," always craving for something new, and seeking to lessen their labours and increase their facilities, and to these causes we are chiefly indebted for the marvellous development and radical changes of photography. No sooner was the Daguerreotype process perfected than it was superseded by _wet_ collodion, and that was barely a workable process when it became the anxiety of every amateur to have a _dry_ collodion process, and multitudes of men were at work endeavouring to make, modify, or invent a means that would enable them to use the camera as a sort of sketch-book, and make their finished picture at home at their leisure. Hence the number of Dry Plate processes published about this period, and the controversies carried on by the many enthusiastic champions of the various methods. Beer was pitted against tea and coffee, honey against albumen, gin against gum, but none of them were equal to wet collodion. The International Exhibition of 1862 did little or nothing in the interests of photography. It is true there was a scattered and skied exhibition at the top of a high tower, but as there was no "lift," I suspect very few people went to see the exhibits. I certainly was not there more than once myself. Among the exhibitors of apparatus were the names of Messrs. McLean, Melhuish and Co., Murray and Heath, P. Meagher, T. Ottewill and Co., but there was nothing very remarkable among their exhibits. There was some very good workmanship, but the articles exhibited were not beyond the quality of the every-day manufacture of the best camera and apparatus makers. The chief contributors to the exhibition of photographs were Messrs. Mayall, T. R. Williams, and Herbert Watkins in portraiture; and in landscapes, &c., Messrs. Francis Bedford, Rejlander, Rouch, Stephen Thompson, James Mudd, William Mayland, H. P. Robinson, and Breeze. By some carelessness or stupidity on the part of the attendants or constructors of the Exhibition, nearly all Mr. Breeze's beautiful exhibits--stereoscopes and stereoscopic transparencies--were destroyed by the fall of a skylight. Perhaps the best thing that the International Exhibition did for photography was the issue of the Jurors' Report, as it was prefaced with a brief History of Photography up to date, not perfectly correct regarding the Rev. J. B. Reade's labours, but otherwise good, the authorship of which I attribute to the late Dr. Diamond; but the awards--ah! well, awards never were quite satisfactory. Commendees thought they should have been medalists, and the latter thought something else. Thomas Ross, J. H. Dallmeyer, and Negretti and Zambra were the English recipients of medals, and Voightlander and Son and C. Dietzler received medals for their lenses. Early in 1862 the Harrison Globe Lens was attracting attention, and, as much was claimed for it both in width of angle and rapidity, I imported from New York a 5 by 4 and a whole-plate as samples. The 5 by 4 was an excellent lens, and embraced a much wider angle than any other lens known, and Mr. Hughes employed it to photograph the bridal bed and suite of apartments of the Prince and Princess of Wales at Osborne, Isle of Wight, and I feel certain that no other lens would have done the work so well. I have copies of the photograph by me now. They are circular pictures of five inches in diameter, and every article and decoration visible in the chambers are as sharp and crisp as possible. I showed the lens to Mr. Dallmeyer, and he thought he could make a better one; his Wide-Angle Rectilinear was the result. Mr. John Pouncy, of Dorchester, introduced his "patent process for permanent printing" this year, but it never made much headway. It was an oleagenous process, mixed with bichromate of potash, or bitumen of Judea, and always smelt of bad fat. I possessed examples at the time, but took no care of them, and no one else did in all probability; but it appeared to me to be the best means of transferring photographic impressions to wood blocks for the engraver's purpose. Thomas Sutton, B.A., published a book on Pouncy's process and carbon printing, but the process had inherent defects which were not overcome, so nothing could make it a success. Sutton's "History of Carbon Printing" was sufficiently interesting to attract both readers and buyers at the time. I have previously stated that Daguerre introduced and left his process in an imperfect and uncommercial condition, and that it was John Frederick Goddard, then lecturer at the Adelaide Gallery, London, and inventor of the polariscope, who discovered the accelerating properties of bromine, and by which, with iodine, he obtained a bromo-iodide of silver on the surface of the silvered plate employed in the Daguerreotype process, thereby reducing the time of exposure from twenty minutes to twenty seconds, and making the process available for portraiture with an ordinary double combination lens. Somehow or other, this worthy gentleman had fallen into adverse circumstances, and was obliged to eat the bread of charity in his old age. The facts of this sad case coming to the knowledge of Mr. Hughes and others, an appeal, written by Mr. Hughes, was published in the Photographic News, December 11th, 1863. As Mr. Hughes and myself had benefitted by Mr. Goddard's improvement in the practice of the Daguerreotype, we took an active interest in the matter, and, by canvassing friends and customers, succeeded in obtaining a considerable proportion of the sum total subscribed for the relief of Mr. Goddard. Enough was obtained to make him independent and comfortable for the remainder of his life. Mr. T. R. Williams was appointed almoner by the committee, but his office was not for long, as Mr. Goddard died Dec. 28th, 1866. On the 5th of April, 1864, I attended a meeting of the Photographic Society at King's College, and heard Mr. J. W. Swan read a paper on his new patent carbon process. It was a crowded meeting, and an intense interest pervaded the minds of both members and visitors. The examples exhibited were very beautiful, but at that early stage they began to show a weakness, which clung to the collodion support as long as it was employed. Some of the specimens which I obtained at the time left the mounting boards, and the films were torn asunder by opposing forces, and the pictures completely destroyed. I have one in my possession now in that unsatisfactory condition. Mr. Swan's process was undoubtedly an advance in the right direction, but it was still imperfect, and required further improvement. Many of the members failed to see where the patent rights came in, and Mr. Swan himself appeared to have qualms of conscience on the subject, for he rather apologetically announced in his paper, that he had obtained a patent, though his first intention was to allow it to be practised without any restriction. I think myself it would have been wiser to have adhered to his original intention; however, it was left to others to do more to advance the carbon process than he did. During this year (1865) an effort was made to establish a claim of priority in favour of Thomas Wedgwood for the honour of having made photographs on silver plates, and negatives on paper, and examples of such alleged early works were submitted to the inspection of members of the Photographic Society, but it was most satisfactorily determined that the photographs on the silver plates were weak Daguerreotypes of a posterior date, and that the photographic prints, on paper, of a breakfast table were from a calotype negative taken by Fox Talbot. Messrs. Henneman and Dr. Diamond proved this most conclusively. Other prints then exhibited, and alleged to be photographs, were nothing but prints from metal plates, produced by some process of engraving, probably Aquatint. I saw some of the examples at the time, and, as recently as Nov. 1st, 1889, I have seen some of them again, and I think the "Breakfast Table" and a view of "Wedgwood's Pottery" are silver prints, though very much faded, from calotype negatives. The other prints, such as the "Piper" and "A Vase," are from engraved plates. No one can desire to lessen Thomas Wedgwood's claims to pre-eminence among the early experimentalists with chloride of silver, but there cannot now be any denial to the claims of the Rev. J. B. Reade in 1837, and Fox Talbot in 1840, of being the earliest producers of photographic negatives on paper, from which numerous prints could be obtained. The Wothlytype printing process was introduced to the notice of photographers and the public this year: first, by a blatant article in the _Times_, which was both inaccurate and misleading, for it stated that both nitrate of silver and hyposulphite of soda were dispensed within the process; secondly, by the issue of advertisements and prospectuses for the formation of a Limited Liability Company. I went to the Patent Office and examined the specification, and found that both nitrate of silver and hyposulphite of soda were essential to the practice of the process, and that there was no greater guarantee of permanency in the use of the Wothlytype than in ordinary silver printing. On March 14th, 1865, George Wharton Simpson, editor and proprietor of the _Photographic News_, read a paper at a meeting of the Photographic Society on a new printing process with collodio-chloride of silver on paper. Many beautiful examples were exhibited, but the method never became popular, chiefly on account of the troubles of toning with sulpho-cyanide of ammonium. The same or a similar process, substituting gelatine for collodion, is known and practised now under the name of Aristotype, but not very extensively, because of the same defects and difficulties attending the Simpsontype. Another new method of positive printing was introduced this year by Mr. John M. Burgess, of Norwich, which he called "Eburneum." It was not in reality a new mode of printing, but an ingenious application of the collodion transfer, or stripping process. The back of the collodion positive print was coated with a mixture of gelatine and oxide of zinc, and when dry stripped from the glass. The finished picture resembled a print on very fine ivory, and possessed both delicate half-tones and brilliant shadows. I possess some of them now, and they are as beautiful as they were at first, after a lapse of nearly quarter of a century. It was a very troublesome and tedious process, and I don't think many people practised it. Certainly I don't know any one that does so at the present time. This was the year of the Dublin International Exhibition. I went to see it and report thereon, and my opinions and criticisms of the photographic and other departments will be found and may be perused in "Contributions to Photographic Literature." On the whole, it was a very excellent exhibition, and I thoroughly enjoyed the trip. A new carbon process by M. Carey Lea was published this year. The ingredients were similar to those employed by Swan and others, but differently handled. No pigment was mixed with the gelatine before exposure, but it was rubbed on after exposure and washing, and with care any colour or number of colours might be applied, and so produce a polychromatic picture, but I don't know any one that ever did so. I think it could easily be applied to making photographic transfers to blocks for the use of wood engravers. December 5th, 1865, Mr. Walter Woodbury demonstrated and exhibited examples of the beautiful mechanical process that bears his name to the members of the Photographic Society. The process was not entirely photographic. The province of photography ceased on the production of the gelatine relief. All that followed was strictly mechanical. It is somewhat singular that a majority of the inventions and modifications of processes that were introduced this year related to carbon and permanency. Thursday, January 11th, 1866, I read, at the South London Photographic Society, a paper on "Errors in Pictorial Backgrounds." As the paper, as well as the discussion thereon, is published _in extenso_ in the journals of the period, it is not necessary for me to repeat it here, but I may as well state briefly my reasons for reading the paper. At that time pictorial backgrounds and crowded accessories were greatly in use, and it was seldom, if ever, that the horizontal line of the painted background, and the horizontal line indicated by the position of the camera, coincided. Consequently the photographic pictures obtained under such conditions invariably exhibited this incongruity, and it was with the hope of removing these defects, or violations of art rules and optical laws, that I ventured to call attention to the subject and suggest a remedy. A little later, I wrote an article, "Notes on Pictures in the National Gallery," which was published in the _Photographic News_ of March 29th, in support of the arguments already adduced in my paper on "Errors in Pictorial Backgrounds," and I recommend every portrait photographer to study those pictures. February 13th I was elected a member of the Photographic Society of London. Quite a sensation was created in the Spring of this year by the introduction of what were termed "Magic Photographs." Some one was impudent enough to patent the process, although it was nothing but a resurrection of what was published in 1840 by Sir John Herschel, which consisted of bleaching an ordinary silver print to invisibility with bichloride of mercury, and restoring it by an application of hyposulphite of soda. I introduced another form of magic photograph, in various monochromatic colours, similar to Sir John Herschel's cyanotype, and I have several of these pictures in my possession now, both blue, purple, and red, dated 1866, as bright and beautiful as they were the day they were made. But the demand for these magic photographs was suddenly stopped by someone introducing indecent pictures. In all probability these objectionable pictures came from abroad, and the most scrupulous of the home producers suffered in consequence, as none of the purchasers could possibly know what would appear when the developer or redeveloper was applied. On June 14th Mr. F. W. Hart read a paper, and demonstrated before the South London Photographic Society, on his method of rendering silver prints permanent. "A consummation devoutly to be wished," but unfortunately some prints in my possession that were treated to a bath of his eliminator show unmistakable signs of fading. In my opinion, there is nothing so efficacious as warm water washing, and some prints that I toned, fixed, and washed myself over thirty years ago, are perfect. The "cabinet" form of portrait was introduced this year by Mr. F. R. Window, and it eventually became the fashionable size, and almost wiped out the carte-de-visite. The latter, however, had held its position for about nine years, and the time for change had arrived. Beyond the introduction of the cabinet portrait, nothing very novel or ingenious had been introduced, but a very good review of photography up to date appeared in the October issue of the _British Quarterly Review_. This was a very ably written article from the pen of my old friend, Mr. George Wharton Simpson. No radical improvement or advance in photography was made in 1867, but M. Adam-Salomon created a little sensation by exhibiting some very fine samples of his work in the Paris Exhibition. They were remarkable chiefly for their pose, lighting, retouching, and tone. A few of them were afterwards seen in London, and that of Dr. Diamond was probably the most satisfactory. M. Salomon was a sculptor in Paris, and his art training and feeling in that branch of the Fine Arts naturally assisted him in photography. The Duc de Luynes's prize of 8,000 francs for the best mechanical printing process was this year awarded to M. Poitevin. In making the award, the Commission gave a very excellent résumé of all that had previously been done in that direction, and endeavoured to show why they thought M. Poitevin entitled to the prize; but for all that I think it will be difficult to prove that any of M. Poitevin's mechanical processes ever came into use. On June 13th, in the absence of Mr. Jabez Hughes, I read his paper, "About Leptographic Printing," before the South London Photographic Society. This Leptographic paper was claimed to be the invention of two photographers in Madrid, but it was evidently only a modification of Mr. Simpson's collodio-chloride of silver process. About this period I got into a controversy--on very different subjects, it is true--but it made me determine to abandon for the future the practice of writing critical notices under the cover of a _nom de plume_. I had, under the _nom de plume_ of "Union Jack," written in favour of a union of _all_ the photographic societies then in London. This brought Mr. A. H. Wall down on me, but that did not affect me very much, nor was I personally distressed about the other, but I thought it best to abandon a dangerous practice. Under the _nom de plume_ of "Lux Graphicus" I had contributed a great many articles to the _Photographic News_, and, in a review of the Society's exhibition, published Nov. 22nd, 1867, I expressed an honest opinion on Mr. Robinson's picture entitled "Sleep." It was not so favourable and flattering, perhaps, as he would have liked, but it was an honest criticism, and written without any intention of giving pain or offence. The close of this year was marked by a very sad catastrophe intimately associated with photography, by the death of Mr. Mawson at Newcastle-on-Tyne; he was killed by an explosion of nitro-glycerine. Mr. Mawson, in conjunction with Mr. J. W. Swan, was one of the earliest and most successful manufacturers of collodion, and, as early as 1852, I made negatives with that medium, though I did not employ collodion solely until 1857, when I abandoned for ever the beautiful and fascinating Daguerreotype. On Friday, December 27th, Antoine Jean François Claudet, F.R.S., &c., &c., died suddenly in the 71st year of his age. He was one of the earliest workers and improvers of the Daguerreotype process in this country, and one of the last to relinquish its practice in London. Mr. Claudet bought a share of the English patent of Mr. Berry, the agent, while he was a partner in the firm of Claudet and Houghton in 1840, and commenced business as a professional Daguerreotypist soon afterwards. Before the introduction of bromine as an accelerator by Mr. Goddard, Mr. Claudet had discovered that chloride of iodine increased the sensitiveness of the Daguerreotype plate, and he read a paper on that subject before the Royal Society in 1841. He was a member of the council of the Photographic Society for many years, and a copious contributor to its proceedings, as well as to photographic literature. In his intercourse with his _confrères_ he was always courteous, and when I called upon him in 1851 he received me most kindly, I met him again in Glasgow, and many times in London, and always considered him the best specimen of a Frenchman I had ever met. Towards his clients he was firm, respectful, and sometimes generous, as the following characteristic anecdote will show. He had taken a portrait of a child, which, for some reason or other, was not liked, and demurred at. He said, "Ah! well, the matter is easily settled. I'll keep the picture, and return your money"; and so he thought the case was ended; but by-and-by the picture was asked for, and he refused to give it up. Proceedings were taken to compel him to surrender it, which he defended. In stating the case, the counsel remarked that the child was dead. Mr. Claudet immediately stopped the counsel and the case by exclaiming, "Ah! they did not tell me that before. Now, I make the parents a present of the portrait." I am happy to say that I possess a good portrait of Mr. Claudet, taken in November, 1867, with his _Topaz lens_, 5/8-inch aperture. Strangely enough, Mr. Claudet's studio in Regent Street was seriously damaged by fire within a month of his death, and all his valuable Daguerreotypes, negatives, pictures, and papers destroyed. On April 9th, 1868, I exhibited, at the South London Photographic Society, examples of nearly all the types of photography then known, amongst them a Daguerreotype by Daguerre, many of which are now in the Science Department of the South Kensington Museum, and were presented by me to form the nucleus of a national exhibition of the rise and progress of photography, for which I received the "thanks of the Lords of the Council on Education," dated April 22nd, 1886. There was nothing very remarkable done in 1868 to forward the interests or development of photography, yet that year narrowly escaped being made memorable, for Mr. W. H. Harrison, now editor of the _Photographic News_, actually prepared, exposed, and developed a gelatino-bromide dry plate, but did not pursue the matter further. 1869 also passed without adding much to the advancement of photography, and I fear the same may be said of 1870, with the exception of the publication, by Thos. Sutton, of Gaudin's gelatino-iodide process. On February 21st, 1870, Robert J. Bingham died in Brussels. When the Daguerreotype process was first introduced to this country, Mr. Bingham was chemical assistant to Prof. Faraday at the Royal Institution. He took an immediate interest in the wonderful discovery, and made an improvement in the application of bromine vapour, which entitled him to the gratitude of all Daguerreotypists. When Mr. Goddard applied bromine to the process, he employed "bromine water," but, in very hot weather, the aqueous vapour condensed upon the surface of the plate, and interrupted the sensitising process. Mr. Bingham obviated this evil by charging hydrate of lime with bromine vapour, which not only removed the trouble of condensation, but increased the sensitiveness of the prepared plate. This was a great boon to all Daguerreotypists, and many a time I thanked him mentally long before I had the pleasure of meeting him in London. Mr. Bingham also wrote a valuable manual on the Daguerreotype and other photographic processes, which was published by Geo. Knight and Sons, Foster Lane, Cheapside. Some years before his death, Mr. Bingham settled in Paris, and became a professional photographer, but chiefly as a publisher of photographic copies of paintings and drawings. Abel Niépce de St. Victor, best known without the Abel, died suddenly on April 6th, 1870. Born at St. Cyr, July 26th, 1805. After passing through his studies at the Military School of Saumur, he became an officer in a cavalry regiment. Being studious and fond of chemistry, he was fortunate enough to effect some saving to the Government in the dyeing of fabrics employed in making certain military uniforms, for which he received compensation and promotion. His photographic fame rests upon two achievements: firstly, his application of iodized albumen to glass for negative purposes in 1848, a process considerably in advance of Talbot's paper negatives, but it was quickly superseded by collodion; secondly, his researches on "heliochromy," or photography in natural colours. Niépce de St. Victor, like others before and since, was only partially successful in obtaining some colour reproductions, but totally unsuccessful in rendering those colours permanent. In proof of both these statements I will quote from the Juror's Report, on the subject, of the International Exhibition, 1862:--"The obtaining of fixed natural colours by means of photography still remains, as was before remarked, to be accomplished; but the jurors have pleasure in recording that some very striking results of experiments in this direction were forwarded for their inspection by a veteran in photographic research and discovery, M. Niépce de St. Victor. These, about a dozen in number, 3-1/2 by 2-1/2 inches, consisted of reproductions of prints of figures with parti-coloured draperies. Each tint in the pictures exhibited, they were assured, was a faithful reproduction of the original. Amongst the colours were blues, yellows, reds, greens, &c., all very vivid. Some of the tints gradually faded and disappeared in the light whilst under examination, and a few remained permanent for some hours. The possibility of producing natural colour thus established is a fact most interesting and important, and too much praise cannot be awarded to the skilful research which has been to this extent crowned with success. The jury record their obligations to their chairman, Baron Gross, at whose personal solicitation they were enabled to obtain a sight of these remarkable pictures." Such was the condition of photography in natural colours towards the close of 1862, and so it is now after a lapse of twenty-eight years. In 1870 several examples of Niépce de St. Victor's heliochromy were sent to the Photographic Society of London, and I had them in my hands and examined them carefully in gas-light; they could not be looked at in daylight at all. I certainly saw _faint_ traces of colour, but whether I saw them in their original vigour, or after they had faded, I cannot say. All I can say is that the tints were very feeble, and that they had not been obtained _through the lens_. They were, at their best, only contact impressions of coloured prints obtained after many hours of exposure. The examples had been sent to the Photographic Society with the hope of selling them for the benefit of the widow, but the Society was too wise to invest in such evanescent property. However, a subscription was raised both in England and France for the benefit of the widow and orphans of Niépce de St. Victor. December, 1870, was marked by the death of one of the eminent pioneers of photography. On the 12th, the Rev. J. B. Reade passed away at Bishopsbourne Rectory, Canterbury, in the sixty-ninth year of his age. I have already, I think, established Mr. Reade's claim to the honour of being the first to produce a photographic negative on paper developed with gallic acid, and I regret that I am unable to trace the existence of those two negatives alluded to in Mr. Reade's published letter. Mr. Reade told me himself that he gave those two historic negatives to Dr. Diamond, when Secretary to the Photographic Society, to be lodged with that body for safety, proof, and reference; but they are not now in the possession of the Photographic Society, and what became of them no one knows. Several years ago I caused enquiries to be made, and Dr. Diamond was written to by Mr. H. Baden Pritchard, then Secretary, but Dr. Diamond's reply was to the effect that he had no recollection of them, and that Mr. Reade was given to hallucinations. Considering the positions that Mr. Reade held, both in the world and various learned and scientific societies, I don't think that he could ever have been afflicted with such a mental weakness. He was a clergyman in the Church of England, an amateur astronomer and microscopist, one of the fathers of photography, and a member of Council of the Photographic Society, and President of the Microscopical Society at the time of his death. I had many a conversation with him years ago, and I never detected either weakness or wandering in his mind; therefore I could not doubt the truth of his statement relative to the custodianship of the first paper negative that was taken through the lens of a solar microscope. Mr. Reade was a kind and affable man; and, though a great sufferer on his last bed of sickness, he wrote loving, grateful, and Christian like letters to many of his friends, some of which I have seen, and I have photographed his signature to one of them to attach to his portrait, which I happily possess. In 1871 the coming revolution in photography was faintly heralded by Dr. R. L. Maddox, publishing in the _British Journal of Photography_, "An Experiment with Gelatino-Bromide." Successful as the experiment was it did not lead to any extensive adoption of the process at the time, but it did most unquestionably exhibit the capabilities of gelatino-bromide. As that communication to the _British Journal of Photography_ contained and first made public the working details of a process that was destined to supersede collodion, I will here insert a copy of Dr. Maddox's letter _in extenso_. "An Experiment with Gelatino-Bromide. "The collodio-bromide processes have for some time held a considerable place in the pages of the _British Journal of Photography_, and obtained such a prominent chance of being eventually the process of the day in the dry way, that a few remarks upon the application of another medium may perhaps not be uninteresting to the readers of the journal, though little more can be stated than the result of somewhat careless experiments tried at first on an exceedingly dull afternoon. It is not for a moment supposed to be new, for the chances of novelty in photography are small, seeing the legion of ardent workers, and the ground already trodden by its devotees, so that for outsiders little remains except to take the result of labours so industriously and largely circulated through these pages, and be thankful. "Gelatine, which forms the medium of so many printing processes, and which doubtless is yet to form the base of many more, was tried in the place of collodion in this manner:--Thirty grains of Nelson's gelatine were washed in cold water, then left to swell for several hours, when all the water was poured off, and the gelatine set in a wide-mouthed bottle, with the addition of four drachms of pure water, and two small drops of _aqua regia_, and then placed in a basin of hot water for solution. Eight grains of bromide of cadmium dissolved in half a drachm of pure water were now added, and the solution stirred gently. Fifteen grains of nitrate of silver were next dissolved in half a drachm of water in a test tube, and the whole taken into the dark room, when the latter was added to the former slowly, stirring the mixture the whole time. This gave a fine milky emulsion, and was left for a little while to settle. A few plates of glass well cleaned were next levelled on a metal plate put over a small lamp; they were, when fully warmed, coated by the emulsion spread to the edges by a glass rod, then returned to their places, and left to dry. When dry, the plates had a thin opalescent appearance, and the deposit of bromide seemed to be very evenly spread in the substance of the substratum. "These plates were printed from, in succession, from different negatives, one of which had been taken years since on albumen with oxgall and diluted phosphoric acid, sensitised in an acid nitrate, and developed with pyrogallic acid, furnishing a beautiful warm brown tint. "The exposure varied from the first plate thirty seconds to a minute and a half, as the light was very poor. No vestige of an outline appeared on removal from the printing-frame. The plates were dipped in water to the surface, and over them was poured a plain solution of pyrogallic acid, four grains to the ounce of water. Soon a faint but clean image was seen, which gradually intensified up to a certain point, then browned all over; hence, the development in the others was stopped at an early stage, the plate washed, and the development continued with fresh pyro, with one drop of a ten-grain solution of nitrate of silver, then re-washed and cleared by a solution of hyposulphite of soda. "The resulting tints were very delicate in detail, of a colour varying between a bistre and olive tint, and after washing dried with a brilliant surface. The colour of the print varied greatly according to the exposure. From the colour and delicacy it struck me that with care to strain the gelatine, or use only the clearest portion, such a process might be utilised for transparencies for the lantern, and the sensitive plates be readily prepared. "Some plates were fumed with ammonia; these fogged under the pyro solution. The proportions set down were only taken at random, and are certainly not as sensitive as might be procured under trials. The remaining emulsion was left shut up in a box in the dark room, and tried on the third day after preparation; but the sensibility had, it seems, greatly diminished, though the emulsion, when rendered fluid by gently warming, appeared creamy, and the bromide thoroughly suspended. Some of this was now applied to some pieces of paper by means of a glass rod, and hung up to surface dry, then dried fully on the warmed level plate, and treated as sensitised paper. "One kind of paper, that evidently was largely adulterated by some earthy base, dried without any brilliancy, but gave, under exposure of a negative for thirty seconds, very nicely toned prints when developed with a weak solution of pyro. Some old albumenized paper of Marion's was tried, the emulsion being poured both on the albumen side, and, in other pieces, on the plain side; but the salting evidently greatly interfered, the resulting prints being dirty-looking and greyed all over. "These papers, fumed with ammonia, turned grey under development. They printed very slowly, even in strong sunlight, and were none of them left long enough to develop into a full print. After washing they were cleared by weak hypo solution. It is very possible the iron developer may be employed for the glass prints, provided the acidification does not render the gelatine soft under a development. "The slowness may depend in part on the proportions of bromide and nitrate not being correctly balanced, especially as the ordinary, not the anhydrous, bromide was used, and on the quantities being too small for the proportion of gelatine. Whether the plates would be more sensitive if used when only surface dry is a question of experiment; also, whether other bromides than the one tried may not prove more advantageous in the presence of the neutral salt resulting from the decomposition, or the omission or decrease of the quantity of _aqua regia_. Very probably also the development by gallic acid and acetate of lead developer may furnish better results than the plain pyro. "As there will be no chance of my being able to continue these experiments, they are placed in their crude state before the readers of the Journal, and may eventually receive correction and improvement under abler hands. So far as can be judged, the process seems quite worth more carefully conducted experiments, and, if found advantageous, adds another handle to the photographer's wheel. R. L. Maddox, M.D." After perusing the above, it will be evident to any one that Dr. Maddox very nearly arrived at perfection in his early experiments. The slowness that he complains of was caused entirely by not washing the emulsion to discharge the excess of bromide, and the want of density was due to the absence of a restrainer and ammonia in the developer. He only made positive prints from negatives; but the same emulsion, had it been washed, would have made negatives in the camera in much less time. Thus, it will be seen, that Dr. Maddox, like the Rev. J. B. Reade, threw the ball, and others caught it; for the gelatine process, as given by Dr. Maddox, is only modified, not altered, by the numerous dry plate and gelatino-bromide paper manufacturers of to-day. Meanwhile collodion held the field, and many practical men thought it would never be superseded. In this year Sir John Herschel died at a ripe old age, seventy-nine. Photographers should revere his memory, for it was he who made photography practical by publishing his observation that hyposulphite of soda possessed the power of dissolving chloride and other salts of silver. [Illustration: FOURTH PERIOD. GELATINE. Dr. R. L. MADDOX. _From Photograph by J. Thomson._ GELATINO-BROMIDE EMULSION 1871. R. KENNETT. _From Photograph by J. Werge, 1887._ GELATINO-BROMIDE PELLICLE 1873 DRY-PLATES 1874] FOURTH PERIOD. GELATINE SUCCESSFUL. In 1873, Mr. J. Burgess, of Peckham, London, advertised his gelatino-bromide emulsion, but as it would not keep in consequence of decomposition setting in speedily, it was not commercial, and therefore unsuccessful. It evidently required the addition of some preservative, or antiseptic, to keep it in a workable condition, and Mr. J. Traill Taylor, editor of the _British Journal of Photography_, made some experiments in that direction by adding various essential oils; but Mr. Gray--afterwards the well-known dry plate maker--was most successful in preserving the gelatine emulsion from decomposition by the addition of a little oil of peppermint, but it was not the emulsion form of gelatino-bromide of silver that was destined to secure its universal adoption and success. At a meeting of the South London Photographic Society, held in the large room of the Society of Arts, John Street, Adelphi, Mr. Burgess endeavoured to account for his emulsion decomposing, but he did not suggest a remedy, so the process ceased to attract further attention. Mr. Kennett was present, and it was probably Mr. Burgess's failure with emulsion that induced him to make his experiments with a sensitive pellicle. Be that as it may, Mr. Kennett did succeed in making a workable gelatino-bromide pellicle, and obtained a patent for it on the 20th of November, 1873. I procured some, and tried it at once. It gave excellent results, but preparing the plates was a messy and sticky operation, which I feared would be prejudicial to its usefulness and success. This I reported to Mr. Kennett immediately, and found that his own experience corroborated mine, for he had already received numerous complaints of this objection, while others failed through misapprehension of his instruction; and very comical were some of these misinterpretations. One attempted to coat the plates with the _end_ of the stirring-rod, while another set them to drain in a rack, and those that did succeed in coating the plates properly, invariably spoiled them by over-exposure or in development. He was overwhelmed with correspondence and visitors, and to lessen his troubles I strongly advised him to prepare the plates himself, and sell them in that form ready for use. He took my advice, and in March, 1874, issued his first batch of gelatino-bromide dry plates; but even that did not remove his vexation of spirit, nor lessen his troublesome correspondence. Most of his clients were sceptical, and exposed the plates too long, or worked under wet-plate conditions in their dark rooms, and fog and failure were the natural consequences. Most, if not all, of his clients at that time were amateurs, and it was not until years after, that professional photographers adopted the dry and abandoned the wet process. In fact, it is doubtful if the profession ever tried Mr. Kennett's dry plates at all, for it was not until J. W. Swan and Wratten and Wainwright issued their dry plates, that I could induce any professional photographer to give these new plates a trial, and I have a very vivid recollection of the scepticism and conservatism exhibited by the most eminent photographers on the first introduction of gelatino-bromide dry plates. For example, when I called upon Messrs. Elliott and Fry to introduce to their notice these rapid plates, I saw Mr. Fry, and told him how rapid they were. He was incredulous, and smilingly informed me that I was an enthusiast. It was a dull November morning, 1878, and I challenged him, not to fight, but to give me an opportunity of producing as good a picture in quarter the time they were giving in the studio, no matter what that time was. This rather astonished him, and he invited me up to the studio to prove my statement. I ascertained that they were giving _ninety_ seconds--a minute and a half!--on a wet collodion plate, 10 by 8. I knew their size, and had it with me, as well as the developer. Mr. Fry stood and told the operator, Mr. Benares, to take the time from me. Looking at the quality of the light, I gave _twenty_ seconds, but Mr. Benares was disposed to be incredulous also, and, after counting twenty, went on with "one for the plate, and one more for Mr. Werge," but I told him to stop, or I would have nothing more to do with the business. The plate had twenty-two or three seconds' exposure, and when I developed in their dark room, it was just those two or three seconds over-exposed. Nevertheless, Mr. Fry brought me a print from that negative in a few days, and acknowledged that it was one of the finest negatives he had ever seen. They were convinced, and adopted the new dry plates immediately. But it was not so with all, for many of the most prominent photographers would not at first have anything to do with gelatine plates, and remained quite satisfied with collodion; but the time came when they were glad to change their opinion, and give up the wet for the dry plates; but it was a long time, for Mr. Kennett introduced his dry plates in 1874, and it was not until 1879 and 1880 that professional photographers had adopted and taken kindly to gelatine plates generally. With amateurs it was very different, and many of their exhibits in the various exhibitions were from gelatine negatives obtained upon plates prepared by themselves, or commercial makers. In the London Photographic Society's exhibition of 1874, and following, several prints from gelatine negatives were exhibited, and in 1879 they were pretty general. Among the many exhibited that year was Mr. Gale's swallow-picture, which created at the time a great deal of interest and controversy, and Mr. Gale was invited over and over again to acknowledge whether the appearance of the bird was the result of skill, accident, or "trickery;" but I don't think that he ever gratified anyone's curiosity on the subject. I can, however, state very confidently that he was innocent of any "trickery" in introducing the bird by double printing, for the late Mr. Dudley Radcliffe told me at the time that he (Mr. Radcliffe) not only prepared the plate, but developed the negative, and was surprised to see the bird there. This may have been the reason why Mr. Gale was so reticent on the subject; but I am anticipating, and must go back to preserve my plan of chronological progression. In 1875 a considerable impetus was given to carbon printing, both for small work and enlarging by the introduction of the Lambertype process. Similar work had been done before, but, as Mr. Leon Lambert used to say, he made it "facile"; and he certainly did so, and induced many photographers to adopt his beautiful, but troublesome, chromotype process. There were two Lamberts in the tent--one a very clever manipulator, the other a clever advertiser--and between the two they managed to sell a great many licences, and carry away a considerable sum of money. I was intimate with them both while they remained in England, and they were both pleasant and honourable men. On January 18th, 1875, O. G. Rejlander died, much to the regret of all who took an interest in the art phase of photography. Rejlander has himself told us how, when, and where he first fell in love with photography. In 1851 he was not impressed with the Daguerreotypes at the great exhibition, nor with "reddish landscape photographs" that he saw in Regent Street; but when in Rome, in 1852, he was struck with the beauty of some photographs of statuary, which he bought and studied, and made up his mind to study photography as soon as he returned to England. How he did that will be best told by himself:--"In 1853, having inquired in London for the best teacher, I was directed to Henneman. We agreed for so much for three or five lessons; but, as I was in a hurry to get back to the country, I took all the lessons in one afternoon! Three hours in the calotype and waxed-paper process, and half-an-hour sufficed for the collodion process!! He spoke, I wrote; but I was too clever. It would have saved me a year or more of trouble and expense had I attended carefully to the rudiments of the art for a month." His first attempt at "double printing" was exhibited in London in 1855, and was named in the catalogue, _group printed from three negatives_. Again, I must allow Mr. Rejlander to describe his reasons for persevering in the art of "double printing":--"I had taken a group of two. They were expressive and composed well. The light was good, and the chemistry of it successful. A very good artist was staying in the neighbourhood, engaged on some commission. He called; saw the picture; was very much delighted with it, and so was I. Before he left my house he looked at the picture again, and said it was 'marvellous,' but added, 'Now, if I had drawn that, I should have introduced another figure between them, or some light object, to keep them together. You see, there is where you photographers are at fault. Good morning!' I snapped my fingers after he left--but not at him--and exclaimed aloud, 'I can do it!' Two days afterwards I called at my artist-friend's hotel as proud as--anybody. He looked at my picture and at me, and took snuff twice. He said, 'This is another picture.' 'No,' said I, 'it is the same, except with the addition you suggested.' 'Never,' he exclaimed; 'and how is it possible? You should patent that!'" Rejlander was too much of an artist to take anything to the Patent Office. When I first saw his celebrated composition picture, "The Two Ways of Life," in the Art Treasures Exhibition at Manchester in 1857, I wondered how he could have got so many men and women to become models, and be able to sit or stand in such varied and strained positions for the length of time then required by the wet collodion process; but my wonder ceased when I became acquainted with him in after years, and ascertained that he had the command of a celebrated troupe, who gave _tableaux vivants_ representations of statues and groups from paintings under the direction and name of "Madame Wharton's _pose plastique_ troupe." What became of the original "Two Ways of Life" I do not know, but the late Henry Greenwood possessed it at the time of Rejlander's death, for I remember endeavouring to induce Mr. Greenwood to allow it to be offered as a bait to the highest contributor to the Rejlander fund; but Mr. Greenwood's characteristic reply was, "Take my purse, but leave me my 'Two Ways of Life.'" Mr. Rejlander kindly gave me a reduced copy of his "Two Ways of Life," and many other examples of his works, both in the nude and semi-nude. Fortunately Rejlander did not confine himself to such productions, but made hundreds of draped studies, both comic and serious, such as "Ginx's Baby," "Did She?," "Beyond the Bible," and "Homeless." Where are they all now? I fear most of them have faded away, for Rejlander was a somewhat careless operator, and he died before the more permanent process of platinum printing was introduced. When Rejlander died, his widow tried to make a living by printing from his negatives, but I fear they soon got scattered. Rejlander was a genial soul and a pleasant companion, and he had many kind friends among members of the Solar Club, as well as other clubs with which he was associated. There is one more death in this year to be recorded, that of Thomas Sutton, B.A., the founder and for many years editor of _Photographic Notes_, and the inventor of a panoramic camera of a very clumsy character that bore his name, and that was all. Mr. Sutton was a very clever man with rather warped notions, and in the management of his _Photographic Notes_ he descended to the undignified position of a caricaturist, and published illustrations of an uncomplimentary description, some of which were offensive in the extreme, and created a great deal of irritation in some minds at the time. In 1877 Carey Lea gave his ferrous-oxalate developer to the world, but it was not welcomed by many English photographers for negative development, though it possessed many advantages over alkaline pyro. It was, however, generally employed by foreign photographers, and is now largely in use by English photographers, especially for the development of bromide paper, either for contact printing or enlargements. In the early part of this year, Messrs. Wratten and Wainwright commenced to make gelatino-bromide dry plates, and during the hot summer months Mr. Wratten found it necessary to precipitate the gelatine emulsion with alcohol. This removed the necessity of dialysing, and helped to lessen the evils of decomposition and "frilling." The most noticeable death in the photographic world of this year was that of Henry Fox Talbot. He was born on February the 11th, 1800, and died September 17th, 1877, thus attaining a ripe old age. I am not disposed to deny his claims to the honour of doing a great deal to forward the advancement of photography, but what strikes me very much is the mercenary spirit in which he did it, especially when I consider the position he occupied, and the pecuniary means at his command. In the first place, he rushed to the Patent Office with his gallo-nitrate developer, and then every little improvement or modification that he afterwards made was carefully protected by patent rights. With a churlishness of spirit and narrow-mindedness it is almost impossible to conceive or forgive, he tried his utmost to stop the formation of the London Photographic Society, and it was only after pressing solicitations from Sir Charles Eastlake, President of the Royal Academy, and first President of the London Photographic Society, that he withdrew his objections. The late Peter le Neve Foster, Secretary of the Society of Arts, told me this years after, and when it was proposed to make Fox Talbot an honorary member of the Photographic Society, Mr. Foster was opposed to the proposition. Then the action that he brought against Sylvester Laroche was unjustifiable, for there really was no resemblance between the collodion and calotype means of making a negative, except in the common use of the camera, and the means of making prints was the same as that employed by Thomas Wedgwood, while the fixing process with hyposulphite of soda was first resorted to by the Rev. J. B. Reade, on the published information of Sir John Herschel. On March 29th, 1878, Mr. Charles Bennett published his method of increasing the sensitiveness of gelatino-bromide plates. It may be briefly described as a prolonged cooking of the gelatine emulsion at a temperature of 90°, and, according to Mr. Bennett's experience, the longer it was cooked the more sensitive it became, with a corresponding reduction of density when the prepared plates were exposed and developed. April 20th of this year Mr. J. A. Spencer died, after a lingering illness, of cancer in the throat. Mr. Spencer was, at one period in the history of photography, the largest manufacturer of albumenized paper in this country, and carried on his business at Shepherd's Bush. In 1866 he told me that he broke about 2,000 eggs daily, merely to obtain the whites or albumen. The yolks being of no use to him, he sold them, when he could, to glove makers, leather dressers, and confectioners, but they could not consume all he offered for sale, and he buried the rest in his garden until his neighbours complained of the nuisance, so that it became ultimately a very difficult thing for him to dispose of his waste yolks in any manner. After the introduction of Swan's improved carbon process, he turned his attention to the manufacture of carbon tissue, and in a short time he became one of the partners in the Autotype Company, and the name of the firm at that period was Spencer, Sawyer, and Bird; but he ceased to be a partner some time before his death. At the South London Technical Meeting, held in the great hall of the Society of Arts, I exhibited my non-actinic developing tray, and developed a gelatine dry plate in the full blaze of gas-light. A short extract from a leader in the _Photographic News_ of November 14th, 1879, will be sufficient to satisfy all who are interested in the matter. "Amongst the many ingenious appliances exhibited at the recent South London meeting, none excited greater interest than the developing tray of Mr. Werge, in which he developed in the full gas-light of the room a gelatine plate which had been exposed in the morning, and exhibited to the meeting the result in a clean transparency, without fog, or any trace of the abnormal action of light.... We can here simply record the fact, interesting to many, that the demonstration before the South London meeting was a perfect success." 1880 had a rather melancholy beginning, for on January the 15th, Mr. George Wharton Simpson died suddenly, which was a great shock to every one that knew him. I had seen him only a few days before in his usual good health, and he looked far more like outliving me than I him; besides, he was a year my junior. The extract above quoted was the last time he honoured me by mentioning my name in his writings, though he had done so many times before, both pleasantly and in defending me against some ill-natured and unwarrantable attacks in the journal which he so ably conducted for twenty years. Mungo Ponton died August 3rd, 1880. Though his discovery did little or nothing towards the development of photography proper, it is impossible to allow him to pass out of this world without honourable mention, for his discovery led to the creation and development of numerous and important photo-mechanical industries, which give employment to numbers of men and women. When Mungo Ponton announced his discovery in the _Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal_ in 1839, he probably never dreamt that it would be of any commercial value, or he might have secured rights and royalties on all the patent processes that grew out of it; for Poitevin's patent, 1855, Beauregard's, 1857, Pouncy's, 1858 and 1863, J. W. Swan's, 1864, Woodbury's, 1866, all the Autotype and Lambertype and kindred patents, as well as all the forms of Collotype printing, are based on Ponton's discovery. But so it is: the originator of anything seldom seeks any advantage beyond the honour attached to the making of a great invention or discovery. It is generally the petty improvers that rush to the Patent Office to secure rights and emoluments, regardless of the claims of the founders of their patented processes. On March 2nd, 1880, I delivered a lecture on "The Origin, Progress, and Practice of Photography" before the Lewisham and Blackheath Scientific Association, in which I reviewed the development of photography from its earliest inception up to date, exhibited examples, and gave demonstrations before a very attentive and apparently gratified audience. On the 27th May, 1880, Professor Alfred Swaine Taylor died at his residence, 15, St. James's Terrace, Regent's Park, in his seventy-fourth year. He was born on the 11th December, 1806, at Northfleet in Kent, and in 1823 he entered as a student the united hospitals of Guy's and St. Thomas's, and became the pupil of Sir Astley Cooper and Mr. Joseph Henry Green. His success as a student and eminence as a professor, lecturer, and author are too well-known to require any comment from me on those subjects, but it is not so generally known how much photography was indebted to him at the earliest period of its birth. In 1838 Dr. Taylor published his celebrated work, "The Elements of Medical Jurisprudence," and in 1840 he published a pamphlet "On the Art of Photogenic Drawing," in which he advocated the superiority of ammonia nitrate of silver over chloride of silver as a sensitiser, and hyposulphite of lime over hyposulphite of soda as a fixer, and the latter he advocated up to the year of his death, as the following letter will show:-- "_St. James's Terrace, February 10th, 1880._ "Mr. Werge. "Dear Sir,--I have great pleasure in sending you for the purpose of your lecture some of my now ancient photographs. They show the early struggles which we had to make. The mounted drawings were all made with the _ammonia nitrate_ of silver; I send samples of the paper used. In general the paper selected contained chloride enough to form ammonia chloride. I send samples of unused paper, procured in 1839--some salted afterwards. "All these drawings (which are dated) have been preserved by the hyposulphite of _lime_ (not soda). The hypo of lime does not form a definite compound with silver, like soda; hence it is easily washed away, and this is why the drawings are tolerably preserved after forty years. All are on plain paper. Ammonia nitrate does not answer well on albumenized paper. The art of toning by gold was not known in those ancient days, but the faded drawings on _plain paper_, as you will see, admit of restoration, in dark purple, by placing them in a very dilute solution of chloride of gold, and putting them in the dark for twenty-four hours. The gold replaces the reduced silver and sulphide of silver. I send you the only copy I have of my photogenic drawing. Five hundred were printed, and all were sold or given away. Please take care of it. The loose photographs in red tape are scenes in Egypt and Greece, taken about 1850 from wax-paper negatives (camera views) made by Mr. D. Colnaghi, now English Consul at Florence. If you can call here I shall be glad to say more to you on the matter.--Yours truly, "Alfred S. Taylor." The above was the last of many letters on photographic matters that I had received from Dr. Taylor, and the last time I had the pleasure of seeing him was when I returned the photographs and pamphlet alluded to therein, only a short time before his death. Dr. Taylor never lost his interest in photography, and was always both willing and pleased to enter into conversation on the subject. He had worked at photography through all its changes, despite his many professional engagements, from its dawn in 1839, right up to the introduction of gelatino-bromide dry plates, and in 1879 he came and sat to me for his portrait on one of what he called "these wonderful dry plates," and watched the process of development with as much interest as any enthusiastic tyro would have done, and I am proud to say that I had the pleasure of taking the portrait and exhibiting the process of development of the latest aspect of photography to one of its most enthusiastic and talented pioneers. Dr. Taylor was a man of remarkable energy and versatility. He was a prolific writer and an admirable artist. On his walls were numerous beautiful drawings, and his windows were filled with charmingly illusive transparencies, all the work of his own hands; and once, when expressing my wonder that he could find time to do so many things, he remarked that "a man could always find time to do anything he wished if his heart was with his work." Doubtless it is so, and his life and what he did in it were proofs of the truth and wisdom of his observation. Hydroquinone as a developer was introduced this year by Eder and Toth, but it did not make much progress at first. It is more in use now, but I do not consider it equal to oxalate of iron. A considerable fillip was, this year, given to printing on gelatino-bromide paper by the issue of "The Argentic Gelatino-Bromide Worker's Guide," published by W. T. Morgan and Co. The work was written by John Burgess, who made and sold a bromide emulsion some years before, and it contained some excellent working instructions. In the book is a modification and simplification of J. M. Burgess's Eburneum Process, though that process was the invention of Mr. J. Burgess, of Norwich; but a recent application of the gelatino-bromide emulsion to celluloid slabs by Mr. Fitch has made the Ivorytype process as simple and certain as the exposure and development of gelatino-bromide paper. On January 30th, 1881, died Mr. J. R. Johnson, of pantascopic celebrity. Mr. Johnson was the inventor of many useful things, both photographic and otherwise. He was the chief promoter of the Autotype Company, in which the late Mr. Winsor was so deeply interested; and his double transfer process, published in 1869, contributed greatly to the successful development and practice of the Carbon process. The invention of the Pantascopic Camera, and what he did to forward the formation of the Autotype Company and simplify carbon printing, may be considered the sum total of his claim to photographic recognition. The chief photographic novelty of 1881 was Mr. Woodbury's Stannotype process, a modification and simplification of what is best known as the Woodburytype. Instead of forcing the gelatine relief into a block of type-metal by immense pressure to make the matrix, he "faced" a reversed relief with tin-foil, thus obtaining a printing matrix in less time and at less expense. I have seen some very beautiful examples of this process, but somehow or other it is not much employed. The man who unquestionably made the first photographic portrait died on the 4th of January, 1882, and I think it is impossible for me to notice that event without giving a brief description of the circumstance, even though I incur the risk of telling to some of my readers a tale twice told. When Daguerre's success was first announced in the Academy of Science in 1839, M. Arago stated that Daguerre had not yet succeeded in taking portraits, but that he hoped to do so soon. The details of the process were not published until July, and in the autumn of that year Dr. Draper succeeded in obtaining a portrait of his assistant, and that was the first likeness of a human being ever known to have been secured by photography. It would be interesting to know if that Daguerreotype is in existence now. Dr. Draper was Professor of Chemistry in the University of New York, and as soon as the news of the discovery reached New York he fitted an ordinary spectacle lens into a cigar case, and commenced his experiments first by taking views out of a window, and afterwards by taking portraits. To shorten the time of exposure for the latter, he whitened the faces of his sitters. In April, 1840, Dr. Draper and Professor Morse opened a portrait gallery on the top of the University Buildings, New York, and did a splendid business among the very best people of the City at the minimum price of five dollars a portrait, and they would be very small even at that price. One more of the early workers in photography died this year on the 4th of March. Louis Alphonse Poitevin was not a father of photography in a creative sense, but, like Walter Woodbury, an appropriater of photography in furthering the development of photo-mechanical printing. His first effort in that direction was to obtain copper plates, or moulds, from Daguerreotype pictures by the aid of electrical deposits, and he discovered a method of photo-chemical engraving, for which he was awarded a silver medal by the Société d'Encouragement des Arts, but the process was of no practical value. His chief and most valuable experiments were with gelatine and bichromates, and his labours in that direction were rewarded by the receipt of a considerable portion of the Duc de Luynes's prize for permanent photographic printing processes, which consisted of photo-lithography and Collotype printing. Born in 1819, he was sixty-three years old when he died. A useful addition to the pyrogallic acid developer was this year given by Mr. Herbert B. Berkeley. Hitherto, nearly all pyro-developed gelatine plates were stained a deep yellow colour by the action of ammonia, but the use of sulphite of soda, as suggested by Mr. Berkeley, considerably lessened this evil. In 1883, Captain Abney rendered a signal service to the members of the Photographic Society, and photographers in general, by publishing in the Journal of the Society a translation of Captain Pizzighelli and Baron A. Hubl's booklet on platinotype. After giving a _résumé_ of the early experiments with platinum by Herschel, Hunt, and others, the theory and practice of platinotype printing are clearly explained, and it was undoubtedly due to the publication of this translation that platinotype printing was very much popularised. In proof of the accuracy of this opinion, every following photographic exhibition showed an increasing number of exhibits in platinotype. No great novelty was brought into the world of photography in 1884, but there were signs of a steady advance, and an increasing number of workers with dry plates. I should not, however, neglect allusion to the publication of Dr. H. W. Vogel's experiments with eosine, cyanocine, and other kindred bodies by which he increased the sensitiveness of both wet collodion and gelatine plates to the action of the yellow rays considerably (_vide_ Journal of Society, May 30th). The Berlin Society for the Advancement of Photography acquired and published these experiments for the general good, and yet Tailfer and Clayton obtained patent right monopolies for making eosine gelatine plates in France, Austria, and England. This proceeding seems very much akin to the sharp practice displayed by Mr. Beard in securing a patent right monopoly in the Daguerreotype process which was _given to the world_ by the French Government in 1839. Germany very properly refused to grant a patent under these circumstances. On April 14th, 1885, Mr. Walter Bird read a paper at the meeting of the Photographic Society of Great Britain, "On the Photographic Reproductions of Pictures in the National Gallery," by A. Braun et Cie. I was present, and it appeared to me that the "effects" in some of the pictures exhibited were not produced by any chemical mode of translation of colour, but by some method of after-treatment of the negative which was more likely to be by skilled labour than by any chemical process. This belief induced me to read a paper at the next meeting--May 12th--"On the After-Treatment of Negatives," in which I showed what could be done both by chemical means and art-labour to assist photography in translating the monographic effects of colour more in accordance with the scale of luminosity adopted and adhered to by the most eminent engravers both in line and mezzotint. At the next meeting--June 9th--Mr. J. R. Sawyer reopened the discussion on the above subject by reading a paper and exhibiting examples of his own experiments, and Mr. Sawyer admitted that he was "bound to confess that while every effort should be made to discover chemical combinations which will give the utmost value that can be practicably obtained in the reproduction (?) of colours, yet that, in all probability, art--and art not inferior to that of a competent engraver--will be necessary to assist photography in rendering the very subtle combinations of colour that present themselves in a fine painting;" and Colonel H. Stuart Wortley proved that the copy of Turner's "Old Téméraire" was not only "retouched," but wrongly translated, as the various shades of yellow in the original picture were represented in the copy as if they had been all of the same tint. Mr. Sawyer made use of the phrase "reproduction of colours," but that was an error. He should have said--and undoubtedly meant--translation of colours, for photography is, unfortunately, incapable of reproducing colours. Among Mr. Sawyer's examples was a curious and contradictory evidence that isochromatic plates translated yellow tints better than ordinary bromide plates, yet wrongly, for three different shades of yellow were translated as if they had been all one tint. I had noticed this myself when copying paintings and coloured prints, but in photographing the natural colours of fruits and flowers the result was different, and I attributed the mal-translation of pigment yellows to the amount of white with which they had been mixed by the painter. Be that as it may, I always obtained the best translation from natural colours, and a group of flowers which contained a beautiful sulphur coloured dahlia illustrates and confirms this statement in a most remarkable and satisfactory manner. It is, therefore, the more to be regretted that there is any restriction placed upon the individual experiment and development of this interesting aspect of photography. This was the year of The International Inventions Exhibition, and the photographic feature of which was the historical collection exhibited by some of the members of the Photographic Society of Great Britain, and I think that collection was sufficiently interesting to justify my giving, in these pages, the entire list as published in the _Photographic Journal_:-- "We subjoin a full and complete statement of the whole of the exhibits, with the names of the contributors:-- "Capt. Abney, R.E., F.R.S.--Papyrotype process, executed at the School of Military Engineering, Chatham. "W. Andrews--Wet collodion negatives, intensified by the Schlippes salt method. "T. and R. Annan--Calotype process (negative and print), taken by D. O. Hill. "F. Beasley, jun.--Collodio-albumen negatives. "W. Bedford--One of Archer's first cameras for collodion process, stereoscopic arrangement by Archer to fit a larger camera. "Valentine Blanchard--Instantaneous views, wet collodion, 1856-65. Illustrations of a method of enlargement, as proposed by V. Blanchard, 1873. Modification of the Brewster stereoscope by Oliver Wendell Holmes. "Bullock (Bros.)--Photo-lithography, 1866 (Bullock's patent). "T. Bolas, F.C.S.--Detective camera, 1876. Negative photograph on bitumen, made insoluble by the action of light. Carbon negatives stripped by Wenderoth's process. "E. Clifton--Portrait of Daguerre. Crystallotype by J. R. Whipple, 1854. Specimens from "Pretsch" photo-galvano-graphic plates, 1856. "T. S. Davis, F.C.S.--A combined preparation and wash bottle for gelatine emulsion. Adjustable gauge for cutting photographic glasses. "De la Rue and Co.--Surface printing from blocks executed by Paul Pretsch, 1860. "W. England--Old Daguerreotype developing box. Old ditto sensitising box. Old camera, 1860, with rapid inside shutter. Instantaneous views in Paris, wet collodion, 1856-65. "Edinburgh Photographic Society--Archer's water lens. "James Glaisher, F.R.S.--Nature printing, taken over thirty years ago. "G. Fowler Jones--Prints from negatives by Le Gray's ceroline process. "R. Kennett--Skaife's pistolgraph. Globe lens. "Dr. Maddox--Some of the earliest gelatino-bromide negatives, by the originator of the process, 1871. "Mudd and Son--Collodio-albumen negatives. "R. C. Murray--Early Talbotype photographs, 1844-45. "H. Neville--Camera with Sutton's patent panoramic lens. "Mrs. H. Baden Pritchard--Impressions from pewter plates of heliographic drawing, by Nicéphore Niépce, 1827. Original letter, by Nicéphore Niépce, sent to the Royal Society, 1827. View of Kew, taken by Nicéphore Niépce, 1827. "H. P. Robinson--Heliographic picture, by Nicéphore Niépce, 1826. Photo-etched plate (from a print), by Niépce in 1827. Heliograph (from a print), by Niépce, 1827. One of the earliest printing-frames, made for Fox Talbot's photogenic drawing, 1839. The first nitrate of silver bath used by Scott Archer in his discovery of the collodion process, 1850. "Ross and Co.--One of Archer's earliest fluid lenses. The first photographic compound portrait lens, made by Andrew Ross, 1841. Photographic camera, believed to be the first made in England. "Sands and Hunter--Old lens, with adjustable diaphragm, by Archer, 1851. Old stereoscopic camera, with mechanical arrangement for transferring plates to and from the dark slide. "T. L. Scowen--Parallel bar stereoscopic camera. Latimer Clarke. "John Spiller, F.C.S., F.I.C.--The first preserved plates (three to twenty-one days), 1854. Illustrations of the French Pigeon Post. "J. W. Swan, F.C.S.--Electro intaglios from carbon reliefs (Thorwalsden's "Night and Morning"). Photo-mezzotints were taken from these in gelatinous inks, 1860, by J. W. Swan, by the process now known as Woodburytype. Plaster cast from a carbon print of Kenilworth, showing the relief, taken in 1864, by J. W. Swan. Carbon prints twenty years old (photographed and printed in various colours by J. W. Swan). Old print (in red) by T. and R. Annan, by Swan's process. Carbon print, twenty years old (printed in 1864) by double transfer. "B. B. Turner--Talbotype. Negatives and prints from same. Single lens made by Andrew Ross, 1851. "J. Werge--Examples of printing with various metals on plain paper, 1839-42. The Fathers of Photography. Examples and dates of the introduction of early photographs. Daguerreotype, 1839. Collodion positive, 1851. Ambrotype, 1853. Ferrotype, 1855. "W. Willis, Jun.--Specimen of aniline process. Historical illustrations of the development of the platinotype process. "W. B. Woodbury--Photo-relief printing process. Woodbury mould and Woodburytype print from same, 1866. Stannotype printing-press, with mould. Machine for measuring reliefs. Woodbury lantern slides. Early Daguerreotype on copper. Positive photograph on glass. Woodbury balloon camera. Microscopical objects in plaster from gelatine reliefs. Woodbury collographic process. Woodbury photo-chromograph system, coloured from the back, 1869. Woodbury actinometer. Despatch-box camera. Watermark or photo-filigrain process. Transparency on gelatine. The first specimen of Woodbury printing exhibited, including the first mould printed from, and also proofs backed with luminous paint. "Colonel H. Stuart Wortley--Early photo-zincographs, 1861-2. Experimental prints with uranium collodion, 1867 (modification of Wothly's process). Set of apparatus complete for making gelatine emulsion, and preparing gelatine plates, 1877-8. No. 1. Apparatus for cutting gelatine plates either by hand-turning or treadle. No. 2. Stove for keeping emulsion warm for any time at a fixed temperature in pure air, and for the final drying of the plates. No. 3. Apparatus for squeezing emulsion out into water. No. 4. Apparatus for mixing emulsion. Instantaneous shutter, with horizontal motion by finger or pneumatic tube; adjustable wings for cutting off sky, and varying length of exposure." It is a very remarkable circumstance that none of the contributors to that historical collection could include among their interesting exhibits portraits of either Nicéphore Niépce or Frederick Scott Archer. Among my "Fathers of Photography" were portraits of Daguerre, Rev. J. B. Reade, Fox Talbot, Dr. Alfred Swaine Taylor, and Sir John Herschel. It was suggested that those historical exhibits should be left at the close of the exhibition to form a nucleus to a permanent photographic exhibition in Kensington Museum. I readily contributed my exhibits towards such a laudable object. They were accepted, and these exhibits may be seen at any time in the West Gallery of the Science Department of the South Kensington Museum. At the exhibition of the Photographic Society of Great Britain this year, I exhibited "Wollaston's Diaphragmatic Shutter," in my opinion the best snap shutter that ever was invented, but it had two very serious drawbacks, for it was both _heavy_ and _expensive_. In 1886 more than usual interest was exhibited by photographers in what was misnamed as the isochromatic, or orthochromatic process, and this interest was probably created by the papers read and discussions that followed at the meetings of the Photographic Society in the previous year. Messrs. Dixon and Gray--the latter a young man in the employ of Messrs. Dixon and Son--commenced a series of experiments with certain dyes with the hope of obtaining a truer translation of colour when copying oil paintings or water-colour drawings, a class of work in which they were largely interested, and had obtained a considerable reputation for such reproductions as photography was then capable of rendering, and one of the results of these experiments was exhibited, and obtained a medal, at the exhibition of the Photographic Society in October. Messrs. Dixon and Sons' exhibit was a very surprising one, and created quite a sensation, as nothing equal to it had ever been shown before. The subject was a drawing of a yellow flower and green leaves against a blue ground--the yellow the most luminous, the green next, and the blue the darkest. In ordinary wet or dry plate photography these effects would have been reversed, but by Dixon and Gray's process the relative luminosities of these three colours were almost perfectly translated. Messrs. Dixon and Gray did not publish their process, but prepared existing gelatine dry plates by their method, and sold them at an enhanced price. They were not, however, permitted to supply anyone long, for B. J. Edwards, who had obtained a monopoly of Tailfer and Clayton's patent rights in England, served them with an injunction, or threatened them with legal proceedings, so they discontinued preparing their orthochromatic plates for sale. By some special arrangement they were allowed to prepare plates for their own use, provided they used Edwards' XL dry plates. It so happened, however, that this proviso was not a hardship, for Mr. Dixon told me himself that he had found Edwards' plates the most suitable for their process. The hardship lay in not being able to apply their own discovery or preparation to any dry plates for sale for the public use and benefit. This prohibition was the more to be regretted because no other commercial isochromatic or orthochromatic plates had or have appeared to possess the same qualities of translation. The suppression of the Dixon and Gray preparation of plates is the more surprising when I find eosine is mentioned in the Clayton and Tailfer claim, whereas Mr. Dixon assured me that eosine was not employed by them. Mr. Edwards only acquired his monopoly and right to interfere with the commercial application of an independent discovery on Nov. 18th, 1886, and there is little to be gained in England by the publication of the experiments of such men as Vogel, Eder, Ives, and Abney, if one man can prevent all others making use of them. This year death removed from our midst one, and perhaps the greatest, of the martyrs of photography--Sylvester Laroche. This was the man that fought the battle for freedom from the shackles of monopoly. He won the fight, but lost his money, and the photographers of the day failed to make him a suitable recompense. There was one honourable exception, and Mr. Sylvester told me himself that Mr. J. E. Mayall gave him £100 towards his legal expenses. Laroche's surname was Sylvester, but as there was a whole family of that name photographers, he added Laroche to distinguish himself from his brothers. Sylvester Laroche was an artist, and worked very cleverly in pastel, but somehow or other he never appeared to prosper. Nothing particular marked the photographic record of 1887, but death was busy in removing men who had made their mark both in the early and later days of photography. First, on March 19th, Robert Hunt, the most copious writer on photography in its earlier period. As early as 1844 he published the first edition of his "Researches on Light," in which he was considerably assisted by Sir John Herschel, and it is astonishing to find what a mine of photographic information that early work contains. The next was Colonel Russell, better known, photographically, as Major Russell. He was born in 1820, and died on May 16th, 1887. He was best known for his tannin process and alkaline developer, with a bromide solution as a restrainer. For a long time his tannin process was very popular among collodion dry plate workers, and very beautiful pictures were taken on Russell's Tannin Plates, but it is many years since they were ruthlessly brushed aside, like all other collodion dry plates, by the now universally employed gelatino-bromide plates or films. A revival of interest in pinhole photography was awakened this year, and several modes of constructing a pinhole camera were published; but I remember seeing a wonderful picture by a _keyhole_ camera long before I became a photographer. I had called to see an old lady who lived opposite a mill and farm. It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and, when I was leaving, I was astonished to see a beautiful picture of the mill and farm on the wall of the hall. "Ah!" said the old lady; "that's my camera-obscura. When the sun shines on the mill at this time of day, I am sure to have a picture of the mill brought through the keyhole." It was something like this that suggested the camera-obscura to Roger Bacon and Baptista Porta. So it is not necessary to have such a small hole to obtain a picture, but it is necessary to have the smallest hole possible to obtain the _sharpest_ picture. Pizzighelli's visible platinotype printing paper was introduced this year, and I welcomed it as a boon, for the double reasons of its simplicity and permanency. I had been longing for years for such a process, for I, like Roger Fenton, had come to the conclusion that there was no future for photography, in consequence of the instability of silver prints. They would be much more durable than they are if they were only washed in several changes of warm water, but few people will be at the trouble to do that, some because they don't know the efficacy of warm water, and others because it lowers the tone. An eminent photographer once asked me how to render silver prints permanent; but when I told him there was nothing equal to warm water washing, he exclaimed, "Oh! but that spoils the tone." When a photographer sacrifices durability to tone, he is scarcely acting honestly towards his customers. Admitted that there is nothing so beautiful in photography as a good silver print when it has its first bloom on it, neither is there anything so grievously disappointing as a silver print in its last stage of decay. It is quite time that the _durability_ of a photograph should be the first consideration of every photographer, as well as the amateur. Years ago I proposed and published a plan of raising a fund to induce chemists and scientists to consider the subject, but not a single photographer responded by subscribing his guinea. A very simple and interesting means of making photographs at night was introduced this year by Dr. Piffard, an amateur photographer of New York, and the extreme simplicity and efficacy of his method was surprising. For good portraiture it is not equal to the electric light, but for family groups, at home occupations or amusements, it is superior, and I have taken such groups with Piffard's magnesium flash-light, which no other means of lighting would have enabled me to produce. I have taken groups of people playing at cards, billiards, and other games in their own homes with the simplest of apparatus, the ordinary lens and camera, plus an old tea tray--but to obtain the best results, the quickest lens and the quickest dry plates should be employed, and I have always found the best position for the light to be on the top of the camera. 1888 is chiefly remarkable for the attempted revival of the stereoscope, and Mr. W. F. Donkin read an interesting and instructive paper on the subject, in which he endeavoured to account for its disappearance, explain its principles, and give an historical account of its early construction, and modern or subsequent improvements. As to its immense popularity thirty to thirty-five years ago, that was due to its novelty, and the marvellous effect of solidity the pictures assumed when viewed in the stereoscope; but it soon ceased to be popular when the views became stale, and people grew tired of looking at them; to keep up the interest they had to be continually buying fresh ones, and of this they soon got tired also; and when hosts saw that their guests were bored with sights so often seen, they put them out of sight altogether, and I fear that nothing will, for the same reasons, bring about a revival of the revolving or any other form of stereoscopes, for views. It is becoming much the same now with lantern slides--possessors and their friends grow weary of the subjects seen so frequently, and hiring instead of buying slides is becoming the practice of those who own an optical lantern. With stereoscopic portraits it was not so, for there was always a personal and family interest attached to them, and I made a great many stereoscopic portraits by the Daguerreotype process; but even they were somewhat ruthlessly and precipitately displaced when the carte-de-visite mania took possession of the public mind. However, I see no reason why stereoscopic portraiture should not be revived if good pictures were produced on ivoryine, and it appears to me that substance is most suitable for the purpose, as the pictures can be examined either by reflected or transmitted light. Everyone interested in stereoscopic photography should "read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest," the late Mr. Donkin's able and instructive paper on "Stereoscopes and Binocular Vision," published in the journal of the Photographic Society, January 27th, 1888. This was unhappily the last paper that Mr. Donkin read at the Photographic Society, for he was unfortunately lost in the Caucasus the following autumn. W. F. Donkin, M.A., F.C.S., F.I.C., was for several years Honorary Secretary of the Photographic Society and of the Alpine Club, and, at the November meeting of the Photographic Society, the President, James Glaisher, F.R.S., made the following remarks on the melancholy event:--"There is, I am sure, but one feeling in regard to the fact that the gentleman who usually sits on my right is not here to-night. Our Secretary, W. F. Donkin, is, I fear, irretrievably lost in the Caucasus. The feeling of every member of this Society is one of respect and esteem towards him. During the time he held the post of Secretary, his uniform courtesy won him the respect of all. I fear we shall see him no more." This fear was afterwards confirmed by the search party, which was headed by Mr. C. T. Dent, President of the Alpine Club. The late Mr. Donkin was both an expert Alpine climber and photographer, and many of his photographs of Alpine scenery have been published and admired. Every year compels me to record the death of some old and experienced photographer, or some artist associated with photography from its earliest introduction. Among the latter was Norman Macbeth, R.S.A., an eminent portrait painter, who was quick to see and ready to avail himself of the invaluable services of a new art, or means of improving art, both in drawing and detail, and make the newly-discovered power a help in his own labours, and an economiser of the time of his sitters. The first time I had the pleasure of meeting him was in Glasgow in 1855, when he brought one of his sitters to me to be Daguerreotyped, and he preferred a Daguerreotype as long as he could get one, on account of its extreme delicacy and details in the shadows; but he could not obtain any more Daguerreotypes after 1857, for at that time I abandoned the Daguerreotype for ever, and was the last to practise the process in Glasgow, and probably throughout Great Britain. From the time that Mr. Macbeth commenced taking photographs himself, he took a keen interest in photography to the last, and only about a month before he died, he read an able, instructive, and interesting paper on the "Construction and Requirements of Portrait Art" before the members of the London and Provincial Photographic Association; and that paper should be in the possession, and frequent perusal, of every student of photographic portraiture. Although an artist in feeling and by profession, Mr. Macbeth was no niggard in his praises of artistic photography, and I have frequently heard him expatiate lovingly on the artistic productions of Rejlander, Robinson, and Hubbard; but, like all artists, he abominated retouching, and denounced it in the strongest terms, and regretted its prevalence and practice as destructive of truth, and "truth in photography," he used to say, "was its greatest recommendation." The annals of 1889--the jubilee year of published and commercial photography--commence with the record of death. On the 21st of January, Mr. John Robert Sawyer died at Naples in the 61st year of his age. Mr. Sawyer had been for many years a member of the Autotype Company, and his foresight and indefatigability were largely instrumental in making that Company a commercial success. It was anything but a success from the time that it was commenced by the late Mr. Winsor and Mr. J. R. Johnson, but from the moment that Mr. J. R. Sawyer became "director of works," the company rapidly became a flourishing concern, and possesses now a world-wide reputation. Mr. Sawyer was one of the early workers in photography, and for several years conducted a photographic business in the city of Norwich. It was there that circumstances induced him to give his attention to some form of permanent photography with the view of employing it to illustrate a work on the carving and sculpture in Norwich Cathedral, particularly the fine work in the roof of the nave. Mr. Sawyer naturally turned his attention, in the first place, to the autotype process, but it was then in its infancy, and the price prohibitory. The collotype process then became his hope and refuge, but that also was in its infancy, and not practised in England. Mr. Sawyer therefore started for Berlin early in 1869, and there met a certain Herr Ghémoser, a clever expert in the collotype process, from whom he obtained valuable information and working instructions. On his return home, Mr. Sawyer laboured at the collotype process until he overcame most of its difficulties, and on January 1st, 1871, he entered into partnership with Mr. Walter Bird, and removed to London with the intention of making the collotype process a feature in the business. Messrs. Sawyer and Bird commenced their London experiences in Regent Street, but on January 1st, 1872, they entered into an agreement with the Autotype Fine Art Company to work the collotype process as a branch of their business. Meanwhile, another partner, Mr. John Spencer, had joined the firm, and at the end of that year Messrs. Spencer, Sawyer, Bird and Co. purchased the Autotype patents, plant, and stock at Ealing Dene, and all its interest in the wholesale trade; and, in 1874, they bought up the whole of the Fine Art business, including the stock in Rathbone Place, and became the Autotype Company. The great photographic feature of this year was the Convention held on August 19th in St. James's Hall, Regent Street, London, in celebration of the jubilee of practical photography, which was inaugurated by the delivery of an address by the president, Mr. Andrew Pringle. The address was a fairly good résumé of all that had been done for the advancement of photography during the past fifty years. The exhibition of photographs was somewhat of a failure; little was shown that possessed any historical interest, and that little was contributed by myself. There was a considerable display of apparatus of almost every description, but there was nothing that had not been seen, or could have been seen, in the shops of the exhibitors. The papers that were read were of considerable interest, and imparted no small amount of information, especially Mr. Thos. R. Dallmeyer's on "False Rendering of Photographic Images by the Misapplication of Lenses"; Mr. C. H. Bothamley's on "Orthochromatic Photography with Gelatine Plates"; Mr. Thomas Bolas's on "The Photo-mechanical Printing Methods as employed in the Jubilee Year of Photography"; but by far the most popular, wonderful, and instructive, was Professor E. Muybridge's lecture, with illustrations, on "The Movements of Animals." The sight of the formidable batteries of lenses was startling enough, but when the actions of the horse, and other animals, were shown in the "Zoopraxiscope," the effect on the sense of sight was both astounding and convincing, and I began to marvel how artists could have lived and laboured in the wrong direction for so many years, especially when the lecturer showed that a prehistoric artist had scratched on a bone a rude but truthful representation of an animal in motion. Both the sight and intelligence of that prehistoric artist must have been keener than the senses of animal painters of the nineteenth century. Taking it all in all, the Jubilee Convention was an immense success, and brought photographers and amateurs to London from the most distant parts of the country. Looking round the Hall on the opening night, and scanning the features of those present, I was coming to the conclusion that I was the oldest photographer present, when I espied Mr. Baynham Jones, a man of eighty-three winters, and certainly the oldest amateur photographer living; so I willingly ceded the honour of seniority to him, and as soon as he espied me he clambered over the rails to come and sit at my side and talk over the past, and quite unknown to many present, aspects and difficulties of photography. Mr. Baynham Jones was an enthusiastic photographer from the very first, for in 1839, as soon as Daguerre's process was published, he made himself a camera out of a cigar-box and the lens of his opera-glass, and, being unable to obtain a Daguerreotype plate in the country, he cut up a silver salver and worked away on a solid silver plate until he succeeded in making a Daguerreotype picture. Mr. Baynham Jones was not the first photographer in this country, for the Rev. J. B. Reade preceded him by about two years; but I have not the slightest doubt of his being the first _Daguerreotypist_ in England, and in that jubilee year of 1889 he was working with gelatine plates and films, and enthusiastic enough to come all the way from Cheltenham to London to attend the meetings of the Jubilee Convention of Photography. With this brief allusion to the doings and attractions of the Jubilee Convention, I fear I must bring my reminiscences of photography to a close; but before doing so I feel it incumbent on me to call attention to the fact that _two years_ after celebrating the jubilee of photography we should, paradoxical as it may appear, celebrate its centenary, for in 1791 the first photographic _picture_ that ever was made, seen, or heard tell of, was produced by Thomas Wedgwood, and though he was unable to fix it and enable us to look upon _that_ wonder _to-day_, the honour of being the first photographer, in its truest sense, is unquestionably due to an Englishman. Thomas Wedgwood made photographic pictures on paper, and there they remained until light or time obliterated them; whereas J. H. Schulze, a German physician, only obtained impressions of letters on a semi-liquid chloride of silver in a bottle, and at every shake of the hand the meagre impression was instantly destroyed. If we consider such men as Niépce, Reade, Daguerre, and Fox Talbot the fathers of photography, we cannot but look upon Thomas Wedgwood as the Grand Father, and the centenary of his first achievement should be celebrated with becoming honour as the English centenary of photography. CHRONOLOGICAL RECORD OF INVENTIONS, DISCOVERIES, PUBLICATIONS, AND APPLIANCES, FORMING FACTORS IN THE INCEPTION, DISCOVERY, AND DEVELOPMENT OF PHOTOGRAPHY. 1432 B.C. Iron said to have been first discovered. 424 B.C. Lenses made and used by the Greeks. And a lens has been found in the ruins of Nineveh. 79 A.D. Glass known and used by the Romans. 697. Glass brought to England. 1100. Alcohol first obtained by the alchemist, Abucasis. 1287. Nitric acid first obtained by Raymond Lully. Present properties made known by Dr. Priestley, 1785. 1297. Camera-obscura constructed by Roger Bacon. 1400. Chloride of gold solution known to Basil Valentine. 1500. Camera-obscura improved by Baptista Porta. 1555. Chloride of silver blackening by the action of light. Doubtless it was the knowledge of this that induced Thomas Wedgwood and Sir Humphry Davy to make their experiments. 1590. Paper first made in England, at Dartford, Kent, by Sir John Speilman. It is said that the Chinese made paper 170 years B.C. 1646. Magic lantern invented by Athanasius Kircher. 1666. Sir Isaac Newton divided a sunbeam into its seven component parts, and re-constructed the camera-obscura. 1670. Salt mines of Staffordshire discovered. 1727. J. H. Schulze, a German physician, observed that light blackened chalk impregnated with nitrate of silver solution and gold chloride. 1737. Solution of nitrate of silver applied to paper, by Hellot. 1739. Chloride of mercury made by K. Neumann. 1741. Platinum first known in Europe: M. H. St. Claire Deville's new method of obtaining it from the ore, 1859. 1750. J. Dolland, London, first made double achromatic compound lenses. 1757. Chloride of silver made by J. B. Beccarius. 1774. Dr. Priestly discovered ammonia to be composed of nitrogen and hydrogen; but ammonia is as old as the first decomposition of organic matter. 1777. Charles William Scheele observed that the violet end of the spectrum blackened chloride of silver more rapidly than the red end. Chlorine discovered. 1779. Oxalate of silver made by Bergmann. 1789. Uranium obtained from pitch-blende by Klaproth. 1791. Thomas Wedgwood commenced experiments with a solution of nitrate of silver spread upon paper and white leather, and obtained impressions of semi-transparent objects and cast shadows. Sir Humphry Davy joined him later. 1797. Nitrate of silver on silk by Fulhame. 1799. Hyposulphite of soda discovered by M. Chaussier. 1800. John William Ritter, of Samitz, in Silesia, observed that chloride of silver blackened beyond the violet end of the spectrum, thus discovering the action of the ultra violet ray. 1801. Potassium discovered by Sir Humphry Davy. 1802. Examples of Heliotypes, by Wedgwood and Davy, exhibited at the Royal Institution, and process published. 1803. Palladium discovered in platinum by Dr. Wollaston. 1808. Strontium obtained from carbonate of strontia by Sir Humphry Davy. 1812. Iodine discovered by M. D. Curtois, of Paris. -- Nitrate of silver and albumen employed by D. Fischer. 1813. Ditto investigated by M. Clement. 1814. Joseph Nicéphore de Niépce commenced experiments with the hope of securing the pictures as seen in the camera-obscura. -- Iodide of silver made by Sir H. Davy. 1819. Sir John Herschel published the fact that hyposulphite of soda dissolved chloride and other salts of silver. 1824. Niépce obtained pictures in the camera-obscura upon metal plates coated with asphaltum, or bitumen of Judea. -- L. G. M. Daguerre commenced his researches. -- Permanganate of potash. Fromenkerz. 1826. Bromine discovered in sea-water by M. Balard. -- Bromine of silver made. 1827. Niépce exhibited his pictures in England, and left one or more, now in the British Museum. 1829. Niépce and Daguerre entered into an alliance to pursue their researches mutually. 1832. Evidence of Daguerre employing iodine. 1837. Rev. J. B. Reade, of Clapham, London, obtained a photograph in the solar microscope, and employed tannin as an accelerator and hyposulphite of soda as a fixer for the first time in photography. 1838. Reflecting stereoscope exhibited by Charles Wheatstone. -- Mungo Ponton observed that light altered and hardened bichromate of potash, and produced yellow photographs with that material. This discovery led to the invention of the Autotype, Woodburytype, Collotype, and other methods of photo-mechanical printing. 1839. Daguerre's success communicated to the Academy of Science, Paris, by M. Arago, January 7th. -- Electrotype process announced. -- Professor Faraday described Fox Talbot's new method of photogenic drawing to the members of the Royal Institution, January 25th. -- Fox Talbot read a paper, giving a full description of his process, before the Royal Society, January 31st. -- Sir John Herschel introduced hyposulphite of soda as a fixing agent, February 14th. -- Dr. Alfred Swaine Taylor employed ammonia nitrate of silver in preference to chloride of silver for making photogenic drawings, and employed hyposulphite of lime in preference to hyposulphite of soda for fixing. -- Daguerre's process published in August, and patent, for England, granted to Mr. Beard, London, August 14th. -- "History and Practice of Photogenic Drawing"; L. S. M. Daguerre. Published September. -- First photographic portrait taken on a Daguerreotype plate by Professor. J. W. Draper, New York, U.S., in the autumn of this year. 1840. "On the Art of Photogenic Drawing," by Alfred S. Taylor, lecturer on chemistry, &c., at Guy's Hospital. Published by Jeffrey, George Yard, Lombard Street, London. -- "The Handbook of Heliography, or the Art of Writing or Drawing by the Effect of Sunlight, with the Art of Dioramic Painting, as practised by M. Daguerre." Anon. -- Wolcott's reflecting camera brought from America to England and secured by Mr. Beard, patentee of the Daguerreotype process. -- The moon photographed for the first time by Dr. J. W. Draper, of New York, on a Daguerreotype plate. -- John Frederick Goddard, of London, inventor of the polariscope and lecturer on chemistry, employed chlorine added to iodine, and afterwards bromine, as accelerators in the Daguerreotype process. 1840. Antoine F. J. Claudet, F.R.S., of London, employed chlorine for the same purpose. -- M. Fizeau, of Paris, deposited a film of gold over the Daguerreotype picture after the removal of the iodine, which imparted increased brilliancy and permanency. -- Chloride of platinum employed by Herschel. -- Fox Talbot's developer published September 20th. 1841. Calotype process patented by Fox Talbot, September 20th. -- First photographic compound portrait lens made by Andrew Ross, London. -- Towson, of Liverpool, noted that chemical and visual foci did not coincide. Defect corrected by J. Petzval, of Vienna, for Voightlander. -- "A Popular Treatise on the Art of Photography, including Daguerreotype and all the New Methods of Producing Pictures by the Chemical Agency of Light," by Robert Hunt, published by R. Griffin, Glasgow. -- Daguerre announced an instantaneous process, but it was not successful. 1842. Sir John Herschel exhibited blue, red, and purple photographs at the Royal Institution. -- "Photography Familiarly Explained," by W. R. Baxter, London. 1843. "Photogenic Manipulation," by G. T. Fisher Knight, Foster Lane. -- Treatise on Photography by N. P. Lerebours, translated by J. Egerton. 1844. Fox Talbot issued "The Pencil of Nature," a book of silver prints from calotype negatives. -- C. Cundell, of London, employed and published the use of bromide of potassium in the calotype process. 1844. "Researches on Light and its Chemical Relations," by Robert Hunt. First edition; second ditto, 1854. -- Robert Hunt recommended proto-sulphate of iron as a developer for Talbot's calotype negatives; also oxalate of iron and acetate of lead for other purposes. -- A. F. J. Claudet patented a red light for "dark room," but at that date a red light was not necessary, so the old photographers continued the use of yellow lights. 1845. "Photogenic Manipulations:" Part 1, Calotype, &c.; Part 2, Daguerreotype. By George Thomas Fisher, jun. Published by George Knight and Sons, London. -- "Manual of Photography," including Daguerreotype, Calotype, &c., by Jabez Hogg. First edition. Second ditto, including Archer's collodion process, bichloride of mercury bleaching and intensifying, and gutta-percha transfer process, 1856. 1845. "Practical Hints on the Daguerreotype; Willats's Scientific Manuals." -- "Plain Directions for Obtaining Photographic Pictures by the Calotype and other processes, on paper; Willats's Scientific Manuals." Published by Willats, 98, Cheapside; and Sherwood, Gilbert, and Piper, Paternoster Row. 1846. Gun-cotton made known by Professor Schönbein, of Basel. 1847. Collodion made by dissolving gun-cotton in ether and alcohol, by Mr. Maynard, of Boston, U.S. 1848. "Photogenic Manipulation:" Part II., Daguerreotype, by Robert Bingham. Published by George Knight and Sons, London. -- Albumen on glass plates first employed for making negatives by M. Niépce de Saint Victor. Process published June 13th. -- Frederick Scott Archer experimented with paper pulp, tanno-gelatine, and iodised collodion, and made collodion negatives in the autumn. 1849. Collodion _positive_ of Hever Castle, Kent, made by Frederick Scott Archer _early_ in the year. -- M. Gustave Le Gray _suggested_ the application of collodion to photography. 1850. "A Practical Treatise on Photography upon Paper and Glass," by Gustave Le Gray. Translated from the French by Thomas Cousins, and published by T. and R. Willats. This book is said to contain the first printed notice of collodion being used in photography. -- R. J. Bingham, London, suggested the use of collodion and gelatine in photography. -- M. Poitevin's gelatine process, published January 25th. 1851. Frederick Scott Archer published his collodion process in the March number of _The Chemist_, and introduced pyrogallic acid as a developer December 20th. -- Fox Talbot announced his instantaneous process, and obtained, at the Royal Institution, a copy of the _Times_ newspaper, while revolving rapidly, by the light of an electric spark. -- Niépce de St. Victor's heliochromic process, published June 22nd. Examples sent to the judges of the International Exhibition of 1862. See Jurors' Report thereon, pp. 88-9. -- Sir David Brewster's improved stereoscope applied to photography. 1851. "Photography, a Treatise on the Chemical Changes produced by Solar Radiation, and the Production of Pictures from Nature, by the Daguerreotype, Calotype, and other Photographic Processes," by Robert Hunt. Published by J. J. Griffin and Co., London and Glasgow. 1852. "Archer's Hand-Book of Collodion Process." Published May 14th. Second edition, enlarged; published 1854. -- "Archer's Collodion _Positive_ Process." Published July 20th. -- Fox Talbot's photo-engraving on steel process; patented October 29th. 1853. A Manual of Photography, by Robert Hunt, published. -- Photographic Society of London founded. Sir Charles Eastlake, P.R.A., President; Roger Fenton, Esq., Secretary. First number of the Society's Journal published March 3rd. -- Cutting's American patent for use of bromides in collodion obtained June 11th, and his Ambrotype process introduced in America. -- "The Waxed-Paper Process," by Gustave Le Gray. Translated from the French with a supplement, by James How. Published by G. Knight and Co., Foster Lane, Cheapside. -- Frederick Scott Archer introduced a triple lens to shorten the focus of a double combination lens. 1854. E. R., of Tavistock, published directions for the use of isinglass as a substitute for collodion. -- First series of photographic views of Kenilworth Castle, &c., from collodion negatives, published by Frederick Scott Archer. -- Liverpool Photographic Journal, first published by Henry Greenwood, bi-monthly. -- First roller-slide patented by Messrs. Spencer and Melhuish, May 22nd. -- Fox Talbot first applied albumen to paper to obtain a finer surface for photographic printing. -- Photo-Enamel process; first patent December 13th. -- Dry collodion plates first introduced. 1855. M. Poitevin's helioplastic process patented February 20th. -- Dr. J. M. Taupenot's dry plate process introduced. -- Photo-galvanic process patented June 5th. -- "Hardwich's Photographic Chemistry." First edition, published March 12th. -- Ferrotype process introduced in America by Mr. J. W. Griswold. 1856. "Photographic Notes." Edited by Thomas Sutton. Commenced January 1st; bi-monthly. 1856. Sutton's Calotype process, published March. 1856. Dr. Hill Norris's dry plate process. Patented September 1st. 1856. Caranza published method of toning silver prints with chloride of platinum. 1857. Moule's photogene, artificial light for portraiture. Patented February 18th. -- Carte-de-visite portraits introduced by M. Ferrier, of Nice. -- Kinnear Camera introduced. Made by Bell, Edinburgh. 1858. Pouncy's Carbon process patented April 10th. -- Skaife's Pistolgraph camera introduced. 1858. J. C. Burnett exposed the back of the carbon paper and obtained half-tones. -- Fox Talbot's photo-etching process, patented April 20th. -- Paul Pretsch's photo-engraving process introduced. -- "Sutton's Dictionary of Photography," published August 17th. -- _The Photographic News_, founded, weekly. First number published September 10th, by Cassell, Petter, and Galpin, London. -- "Fothergill Dry Process," by Alfred Keene, published August. 1859. Sutton's panoramic camera patented, September 28th. -- Photo-lithographic Transfer process patented by Osborne, in Melbourne, Australia. -- Wm. Blair, of Perth, secured half-tone in carbon printing by allowing the light to pass through the back of the paper on which the pigment was spread. -- Asser, of Amsterdam, also invented a photo-lithographic transfer process about this time. 1860. "Principles and Practice of Photography," by Jabez Hughes. First edition published; fourteenth edition, 1887. -- Fargier coated carbon surface with collodion, exposed, and transferred to glass to develop. -- Spectroscope invented by Kertchoff and Bunsen. 1860. "Year-Book of Photography," edited by G. Wharton Simpson, first published. -- Improved Kinnear camera with swing front and back by Meagher. 1861. Captain Dixon's iodide emulsion process patented, April 29th. -- M. Gaudin, of Paris, employed gelatine in his photogene, and published in _La Lumière_ his collodio-iodide and collodio-chloride processes. -- H. Anthony, New York, discovered that Tannin dry plates could be developed by moisture and ammonia vapour. 1862. "Alkaline Development," published by Major Russell. -- Meagher's square bellows camera, with folding bottom board, exhibited at the International Exhibition. Noticed in Jurors' Report. -- Parkesine, the forerunner of celluloid films, invented by Alexander Parkes, of Birmingham. 1863. Pouncy's fatty ink process; patented January 29th. -- Toovey's photo-lithographic process; patented June 29th. -- "Tannin Process," published by Major Russell. -- "Popular Treatise on Photography," by D. Van Monckhoven. Translated from the French by W. H. Thornthwaite, London. 1864. Swan's improved carbon process; patented August 27th. -- "Collodio-Bromide Emulsion," by Messrs. B. J. Sayce and W. B. Bolton; published September 9th. -- "Collodio-Chloride Emulsion," by George Wharton Simpson; published in _The Photographic News_, October 28th. -- Willis's aniline process; patented November 11th. -- Obernetter's chromo-photo process; published. -- Instantaneous dry collodion processes by Thomas Sutton, B.A. Sampson, Low, Son, and Marston, London. 1865. Paper read on "Collodio-Chloride Emulsion," by George Wharton Simpson, at the Photographic Society, March 14th. 1865. Photography, a lecture, by the Hon. J. W. Strutt, now Lord Rayleigh, delivered April 18th; and afterwards published. -- Eburneum process; published by J. Burgess, Norwich, in _The Photographic News_, May 5th. -- Bromide as a restrainer in the developer; published by Major Russell. 1865. Interior of Pyramids of Egypt, photographed by Professor Piazzi Smyth with the magnesium light. -- W. H. Smith patented a gelatino-bromide or gelatino-chloride of silver process for wood blocks, &c. 1866. Magic photographs revived and popularised. -- Woodburytype process patented by Walter Bentley Woodbury, of Manchester, July 24th. -- Photography reviewed, in _British Quarterly Review_, by George Wharton Simpson, October 1st. 1867. M. Poitevin obtained the balance of the Duc de Luynes's prize for permanent printing. -- Cabinet portraits introduced by F. R. Window, photographer, Baker Street, London. 1868. W. H. Harrison experimented with gelatino-bromide of silver and obtained results, though somewhat rough and unsatisfactory. 1869. John Robert Johnson's carbon process double transfer patented. -- "Pictorial Effect in Photography," by H. P. Robinson, first edition. London: Piper and Carter. 1870. Thomas Sutton described Gaudin's gelatino-iodide process. -- Jabez Hughes toned collodion transfers with chloride of palladium. -- John Robert Johnson's single transfer process for carbon printing patented. 1871. Dr. R. L. Maddox, of Southampton, published his experiments with gelatino-bromide of silver in the _British Journal of Photography_, September 8th. 1872. "Émaux Photographiques" (photographic enamels), second edition, by Geymet and Alker, Paris. 1873. J. Burgess, of Peckham, advertised his gelatino-bromide of silver emulsion, but it would not keep, so had to be withdrawn. -- Ostendo non Ostento published a gelatino-bromide of silver formula with alcohol. -- Platinotype process patented by W. Willis, junior, June 1st. 1873. R. Kennett's gelatino-bromide of silver pellicle patented November 20th. -- "The Ferrotypers' Guide" published by Scovill Manufacturing Company, New York. 1874. R. Kennett issued his gelatino-bromide of silver dry plates in March. -- Gelatino-bromide of silver paper first announced by Peter Mawdsley, of Liverpool Dry Plate Company. -- "Backgrounds by Powder Process" published by J. Werge, London. -- Flexible supports in carbon printing patented by John Robert Sawyer, of the Autotype Company. -- Leon Lambert's carbon printing process patented. 1875. Demonstrations in carbon printing by L. Lambert given in London and elsewhere. -- Eder and Toth intensified collodion negatives and toned lantern slides with chloride of platinum. 1876. "Practical Treatise on Enamelling and Retouching," by P. Piquepé, Piper and Carter, London. 1877. Ferrous oxalate developer published June 29th. -- Wratten precipitated the gelatine emulsion with alcohol, and so avoided the necessity of dialysing. 1878. Improvement in platinotype patented by W. Willis, junior, July. -- Abney's "Treatise on Photography" published. -- Abney's "Emulsion Process" published. 1879. J. Werge's non-actinic developing tray introduced at the South London Photographic Society. 1880. "Principles and Practice of Photography," by Jabez Hughes, comprising instructions to make and manipulate gelatino dry plates, by J. Werge. London: Simpkin and Marshall, and J. Werge. -- Gelatino-bromide of silver paper introduced by Messrs. Morgan and Kidd. -- Platinotype improvement patent granted. -- Iodides added to gelatino-bromide of silver emulsions by Captain W. de W. Abney. 1880. Warnerke's sensitometer introduced. -- "The Argentic Gelatino-Bromide Workers' Guide," by John Burgess. W. T. Morgan and Co., Greenwich. -- "Photography; its Origin, Progress, and Practice," by J. Werge. London: Simpkin, Marshall, and Co. -- Hydroquinone developer introduced by Dr. Eder and Captain Toth. 1881. Stannotype process introduced by Walter Woodbury. -- Photographers in Great Britain and Ireland 7,614 as per census returns. -- "Modern Dry Plates; or Emulsion Photography," by Dr. J. M. Eder, translated from the German by H. Wilmer, edited by H. B. Pritchard. London: Piper and Carter. -- "Pictorial Effect in Photography," by H. P. Robinson (cheap edition). Piper and Carter. -- "The Art and Practice of Silver Printing," by H. P. Robinson and Captain Abney. Piper and Carter. 1882. Herbert B. Berkeley recommended the use of sulphite of soda with pyrogallic acid to prevent discolouration of film. -- "Recent Advances in Photography" (Cantor Lectures, Society of Arts), Captain Abney. London: Piper and Carter. 1882. "The A B C of Modern Photography," comprising practical instructions for working gelatine dry plates, by W. K. Burton. London: Piper and Carter. 1882. "Elementary Treatise on Photographic Chemistry," by A. Spiller. London: Piper and Carter. 1883. Translation of Captain Pizzighelli and Baron A. Hubl's booklet on "Platinotype;" published in _The Photographic Journal_. -- Orthochromatic dry plates; English patent granted to Tailfer and Clayton, January 8th. -- "The Chemical Effect of the Spectrum," by Dr. J. M. Eder. (Translated from the German by Captain Abney). London: Harrison and Sons. 1883. "The Chemistry of Light and Photography," by Dr. H. Vogel. London: Kegan Paul. 1884. "Recent Improvements in Photo-Mechanical Printing Methods," by Thomas Bolas, Society of Arts, London. -- "Picture-Making by Photography," by H. P. Robinson. London: Piper and Carter. 1885. "Photography and the Spectroscope," by Capt. Abney, Society of Arts. -- "The Spectroscope and its Relation to Photography," by C. Ray Woods. London: Piper and Carter. -- "Photo-Micrography," by A. C. Malley; second edition. London: H. K. Lewis. 1886. Orthochromatic results exhibited by Dixon and Sons at the photographic exhibition in October. -- English patent rights of Tailfer and Clayton's orthochromatic process secured by B. J. Edwards and Co., Nov. 18th. 1887. Platinotype improvements; two patents. 1888. Pizzighelli's visible platinotype printing paper put on the market in June. 1889. Eikonogen developer patented by Dr. Andresen, of Berlin, Germany, March 26th. -- Wire frames and supports in camera extensions patented by Thomas Rudolph Dallmeyer and Francis Beauchamp, November 6th. CONTRIBUTIONS TO PHOTOGRAPHIC LITERATURE. BY JOHN WERGE. _Originally published in the "Photographic News," "British Journal of Photography," Photographic Year-Book, and Photographic Almanac._ PICTURES OF NIAGARA. Taken with Camera, Pen, and Pencil. Many very beautiful and interesting photographic views of Niagara Falls, and other places of romantic and marvellous interest, have been taken and exhibited to the world. Indeed, they are to be seen now in almost every print-seller's window; and in the albums, stereoscopes, or folios of almost every private collector. But I question very much if it ever occurred to the mind of anyone, while looking at those pictures, what an amount of labour, expense, and danger had to be endured and encountered to obtain them--"the many hairbreadth 'scapes by flood and field," of a very "positive" character, which had to be risked before some of the "negatives" could be "boxed." Doubtless Mr. England, Mr. Stephen Thompson, and Mr. Wilson have many very vivid recollections of the critical situations they have been in while photographing the picturesque scenery of the Alpine passes of Switzerland, and the Highlands and glens of Scotland. Mr. Stephen Thompson has narrated to me one or two of his "narrow escapes" while photographing his "Swiss scenes," and I am sure Mr. England did not procure his many and beautiful "points of view" of Niagara Falls without exposing himself to considerable risk. I had the good fortune to be one of the earlier pioneers, in company with a Yankee friend, Mr. Easterly, in taking photographs of the Falls; and my recollections of the manner in which we "went about," poised ourselves and cameras on "points of rock" and "ledges of bluffs," and felled trees, and lopped off branches overhanging precipices, to "gain a point," even at the distant date are somewhat thrilling. To take a photograph of what is called "Visitors' View" is safe and easy enough. You might plant a dozen cameras on the open space at the brink of the "American Fall," and photograph the scene, visitors and all, as they stand, "fixed" with wonder, gazing at the Falls, American, Centre, and Horseshoe, Goat Island, and the shores of Canada included, for this point embraces in one view all those subjects. But to get at the out-of-the-way places, to take the Falls in detail, and obtain some of the grandest views of them, is a very different matter. I remember, when we started, taking a hatchet with us, like backwoodsmen, to take a view of Prospect Tower, on the American side of the great Horseshoe Fall, how we had to hew down the trees that obstructed the light; how we actually hung over the precipice, holding on to each other's hands, to lop off a branch still in sight where it was not wanted. The manner in which we accomplished this was what some bystanders pronounced "awful." I hugged a sapling of a silver birch, growing on the brink of the precipice, with my left arm, while friend Easterly, holding my right hand with one of the Masonic grips--I won't say which--_hung over_ the precipice, and stretching out as far as he could reach, lopped off the offending branch. Yet in this perilous position my lively companion must crack his joke by punning upon my name, and a Cockney weakness at the same time, for he "guessed he was below the _w_erge of the precipice." The branch down, and we had resumed our perpendicular positions, he simply remarked, if that was not holding on to a man's hand in _friendship_, he did not know what was. But the _work_ was not done yet; to get the view of the Tower we wanted, we had to make a temporary platform over the precipice. This we managed by laying a piece of "lumber" across a fallen tree, and, unshipping the camera, shoved it along the plank until it was in position, balancing the shore end of the plank with heavy stones. When all was ready for exposure, I went round and stood on the point of a jutting rock to give some idea of the great depth of the Fall, but I very nearly discovered, and just escaped being myself the plummet. In the excitement of the moment, and not thinking that the rock would be slimy and slippery with the everlasting spray, I went too rapidly forward, and the rock having a slight decline, I slipped, but was fortunately brought up by a juniper bush growing within a foot of the edge. For a second or two I lay on my back wondering if I could slide out of my difficulty as easily as I had slidden into it. In a moment I determined to go backwards on my back, hands, and feet, until I laid hold of another bush, and could safely assume a perpendicular position. After giving the signal that "all was right," the plate was exposed, and I _cautiously_ left a spot I have no desire to revisit. But it is astonishing how the majesty and grandeur of the scene divest the mind of all sense of fear, and to this feeling, to a great extent, is attributed the many accidents and terrible deaths that have befallen numerous visitors to the Falls. The Indians, the tribe of the Iroquois, who were the aboriginal inhabitants of that part of the country, had a tradition that the "Great Spirit" of the "Mighty Waters" required the sacrifice of two human lives every year. To give rise to such a tradition, doubtless, many a red man, in his skiff, had gone over the Falls, centuries before they were discovered by the Jesuit missionary, Father Hennepin, in 1678; and, even in these days of Christian civilization, and all but total extirpation of the aboriginals, the "Great Spirit" does not appear to be any less exacting. Nearly every year one or more persons are swept over those awful cataracts, making an average of at least one per annum. Many visitors and local residents have lost their lives under the most painful and afflicting circumstances, the most remarkable of which occurred just before my visit. One morning, at daylight, a man was discovered in the middle of the rapids, a little way above the brink of the American Fall. He was perched upon a log which was jammed between two rocks. One end of the log was out of the water, and the poor fellow was comparatively dry, but with very little hope of being rescued from his dreadful situation. No one could possibly reach him in a boat. The foaming and leaping waters were rushing past him at the rate of eighteen or twenty miles an hour, and he knew as well as anyone that to attempt a rescue in a boat or skiff would be certain destruction, yet every effort was made to save him. Rafts were made and let down, but they were either submerged, or the ropes got fast in the rocks. The life-boat was brought from Buffalo, Lake Erie, and that was let down to him by ropes from the bridge, but they could not manage the boat in that rush of waters, and gave it up in despair. One of the thousands of agonized spectators, a Southern planter, offered a thousand dollars reward to anyone that would save the "man on the log." Another raft was let down to him, and this time was successfully guided to the spot. He got on it, but being weak from exposure and want, he was unable to make himself fast or retain his hold, and the doomed man was swept off the raft and over the Falls almost instantly, before the eyes of thousands, who wished, but were powerless and unable, to rescue him from his frightful death. His name was Avery. He and another man were taking a pleasure sail on the Upper Niagara river, their boat got into the current, was sucked into the rapids, and smashed against the log or the rock. The other man went over the Falls at the time of the accident; but Avery clung to the log, where he remained for about eighteen hours in such a state of mind as no one could possibly imagine. None could cheer him with a word of hope, for the roar of the rapids and thunder of the cataracts rendered all other sounds inaudible. Mr. Babbitt, a resident photographer, took several Daguerreotypes of the "man on the log," one of which he kindly presented to me. Few of the bodies are ever recovered. One or two that went over the Great Horse Shoe Fall were found, their bodies in a state of complete nudity. The weight or force of the water strips them of every particle of clothing; but that is not to be wondered at, considering the immense weight of water that rolls over every second, the distance it has to fall, and the depth of the foaming cauldron below. The fall of the Horse Shoe to the surface of the lower river is 158 feet, and the depth of the cauldron into which the Upper Niagara leaps about 300 feet, making a total of 458 feet from the upper to the lower bed of the Niagara River at the Great Horse Shoe Fall. It has been computed that one hundred million, two hundred thousand tons of water pass over the Falls every hour. The depth of the American Fall is 164 feet; but that falls on to a mass of broken rocks a few feet above the level of the lower river. Our next effort was to get a view of the Centre Fall, or "Cave of the Winds," from the south, looking at the Centre and American Falls, down the river as far as the Suspension Bridge, about two miles below, and the Lower or Long Rapids, for there are rapids both above and below the Falls. In this we succeeded tolerably well, and without any difficulty. Then, descending the "Biddle Stairs" to the foot of the two American cataracts, we tried the "Cave of the Winds" itself; but, our process not being a "wet" one, had no sympathy with the blinding and drenching spray about us. However, I secured a pencil sketch of the scene we could not photograph, and afterwards took one of the most novel and fearful shower-baths to be had in the world. Dressed--or, rather, undressed--for the purpose, and accompanied by a guide, I passed down by the foot of the precipice, under the Centre Fall, and along a wet and slippery pole laid across a chasm, straddling it by a process I cannot describe--for I was deaf with the roar and blind with the spray--we reached in safety a flat rock on the other side, and then stood erect between the two sheets of falling water. To say that I saw anything while there would be a mistake; but I know and felt by some demonstrations, other than ocular, that I was indulging in a bath of the wildest and grandest description. Recrossing the chasm by the pole, we now entered the "Cave of the Winds," which is immediately under the Centre Fall. The height and width of the cave is one hundred feet, and the depth sixty feet. It takes its name from the great rush of wind into the cave, caused by the fall of the waters from above. Standing in the cave, which is almost dry, you can view the white waters, like avalanches of snow, tumbling over and over in rapid succession. The force of the current of the rapids above shoots the water at least twenty feet from the rock, describing, as it were, the segment of a circle. By this circumstance only are you able to pass under the Centre Fall, and a portion of the Horse Shoe Fall on the Canadian side. To return, we ascended the "Biddle Stairs," a spiral staircase of 115 steps, on the west side of Goat Island, crossed the latter, and by a small bridge passed to Bath Island, which we left by the grand bridge which crosses the rapids about 250 yards above the American Fall. Reaching the American shore again in safety, after a hard day's work, we availed ourselves of Mr. Babbitt's kindness and hospitality to develop our plates in his dark room, and afterwards developed ourselves, sociably and agreeably, refreshing the inner man, and narrating our day's adventures. I shall now endeavour to describe our next trip, which was to the Canadian side--how we got there, what we did, and what were the impressions produced while contemplating those wonderful works of nature. In the first place, to describe how we descended to the "ferry" and crossed the river. On the north side of the American Fall a railway has been constructed by an enterprising American, where the "cars" are let down a steep decline by means of water-power, the proprietor of the railway having utilized the very smallest amount of the immense force so near at hand. Placing our "traps" in the car, and seating ourselves therein, the lever was moved by the "operator," and away we went down the decline as if we were going plump into the river below; but at the proper time the water was turned off, and we were brought to a standstill close by the boat waiting to ferry us across. Shifting our traps and selves into the boat and sitting down, the ferryman bent to the oars and off we dashed into the dancing and foaming waters, keeping her head well to the stream, and drawing slowly up until we came right abreast of the American Fall; then letting her drop gently down the stream, still keeping her head to the current, we gained the Canadian shore; our course on the river describing the figure of a cone, the apex towards the "Horse Shoe." Ascending the banks by a rather uphill road, we reached the Clifton Hotel, where we took some refreshments, and then commenced our labours of photographing the Grand Rapids and the Falls, from Table Rock, or what remained of it. On arriving at the spot, we set down our traps and looked about bewildered for the best point. To attempt to describe the scene now before us would be next to folly, nor could the camera, from the limited angle of our lens, possibly convey an adequate idea of the grandeur and terrific beauty of the Grand Rapids, as you see them rushing and foaming, white with rage, for about two and a half miles before they make their final plunge over the precipice. Many years ago an Indian was seen standing up in his canoe in the midst of these fearful rapids. Nearing the brink of the terrible Fall, and looking about him, he saw that all hope was lost, for he had passed Gull Island, his only chance of respite; waving his hand, he was seen to lie down in the bottom of his canoe, which shot like an arrow into the wild waters below, and he was lost for ever. Neither he nor his canoe was ever seen again. In 1829 the ship _Detroit_, loaded with a live buffalo, bear, deer, fox, &c., was sent over the Falls. She was almost dashed to pieces in the rapids, but many persons saw the remains of the ship rolled over into the abyss of waters. No one knew what became of the animals on board. And in 1839, during the Canadian Rebellion, the steamer _Caroline_ was set fire to in the night and cast adrift. She was drawn into the rapids, but struck on Gull Island, and was much shattered by the collision. The bulk of the burning mass was swept over the Falls, but few witnessed the sight. Doubtless no fire on board a ship was ever extinguished so suddenly. The view from Table Rock is too extensive to be rendered on one plate by an ordinary camera; but the pantascopic camera would give the very best views that could possibly be obtained. Taking Table Rock as the centre, the entire sweep of the Fall is about 180 degrees, and stretching from point to point for nearly three-quarters of a mile--from the north side of the American Fall to the termination of the Horse Shoe Fall on the west side. The American and Centre Falls present a nearly straight line running almost due north and south, while the Great Horse Shoe Fall presents a line or figure resembling a sickle laid down with the left hand, the convex part of the bow lying direct south, the handle lying due east and west, with the point or termination to the west; the waters of the two American Falls rushing from east to west, and the waters of the Canadian Fall bounding towards the north. By this description it will be seen that but for the intervention of Goat and Luna Islands the three sheets of water would embrace each other like mighty giants locked in a death struggle, before they fell into the lower river. The whole aspect of the Falls from Table Rock is panoramic. Turning to the left, you see the American rapids rushing down furiously under the bridge, between Bath Island and the American shore, with a force and velocity apparently great enough to sweep away the bridge and four small islands lying a little above the brink, and pitch them all down on to the rocks below. Turning slowly to the right, you see the Centre Fall leaping madly down between Luna and Goat Islands, covering the Cave of the Winds from view. A little more to the right, the rocky and precipitous face of Goat or Iris Island, with the "Biddle Stairs" like a perpendicular line running down the precipice; and to the extreme right the immense sweeps of the Great Horse Shoe. Doubtless this fall took its name from its former resemblance to the shape of a horse shoe. It is, however, nothing like that now, but is exactly the figure of a sickle, as previously described. Looking far up the river you observe the waters becoming broken and white, and so they continue to foam and rush and leap with increasing impetuosity, rushing madly past the "Three Sisters"--three islands on the left--and "Gull Island" in the middle of the rapids, on which it is supposed no man has ever trodden, until, with a roar of everlasting thunder, which shakes the earth, they fall headlong into the vortex beneath. At the foot of this Fall, and for a considerable distance beyond, the river is as white as the eternal snows, and as troubled as an angry sea. Indeed, I never but once saw the Atlantic in such a state, and that was in a storm in which we had to "lay to" for four days in the Gulf Stream. The colours and beauty of Niagara in sunlight are indescribable. You may convey _some_ idea of its form, power, and majesty, by describing lines and giving figures of quantity and proportion, but to give the faintest impression of its beauty and colours is almost hopeless. The rich, lovely green on the very brink of the Horse Shoe Fall is beyond conception. All the emeralds in the world, clustered together and bathed in sunlight, would fall far short of the beauty and brilliancy of that pure and dazzling colour. It can only be compared to an immense, unknown brilliant of the emerald hue, in a stupendous setting of the purest frosted, yet sparkling silver. Here, too, is to be seen the marvellous beauty of the prismatic colours almost daily. Here you might think the "Covenant" had been made, and set up to shine for ever and ever at the Throne of the Most Mighty, and here only can be seen the complete _circle_ of the colours of the rainbow. I saw this but once, when on board the _Maid of the Mist_, and almost within the great vortex at the foot of the Falls. A brilliant sun shining through the spray all round, placed us in a moment as it were in the very centre of that beautiful circle of colour, which, with the thunder of the cataract, and the sublimity of the scene, made the soul feel as if it were in the presence of the "Great Spirit," and this the sign and seal of an eternal compact. Here, also, is to be seen the softer, but not the less beautiful Lunar Rainbow. Whenever the moon is high enough in the heavens, the lunar bow can be seen, not fitful as elsewhere, but constant and beautiful as long as the moon is shedding her soft light upon the spray. On one occasion I saw two lunar bows at once, one on the spray from the American Fall, and the other on the spray of the great Horse Shoe Fall. This I believe is not usual, but an eddy of the wind brought the two clouds of spray under the moon's rays. Yet these are not all the "beauties of the mist." One morning at sunrise I saw one of the most beautiful forms the spray could possibly assume. The night had been unusually calm, the morning was as still as it could be, and the mist from the Horse Shoe had risen in a straight column to a height of at least 300 feet, and then spread out into a mass of huge rolling clouds, immediately above the cataracts. The rising sun shed a red lustre on the under edges of the cloud, which was truly wonderful. It more resembled one huge, solitary column supporting a canopy of silvery grey cloud, the edges of which were like burnished copper, and highly suggestive of the Temple of the Most High, where man must bow down and worship the great Creator of all these wondrous works. It is not in a passing glance at Niagara that all its marvellous beauties can be seen. You must stay there long enough to see it in all its aspects--in sunshine and in moonlight, in daylight and in darkness, in storm and in calm. No picture of language can possibly convey a just conception of the grandeur and vastness of these mighty cataracts. No poem has ever suggested a shadow of their majesty and sublimity. No painting has ever excited in the mind, of one that has not seen those marvellous works of God, the faintest idea of their dazzling beauties. Descriptive writers, both in prose and verse, have failed to depict the glories of this "Sovereign of the World of Floods." Painters have essayed with their most gorgeous colours, but have fallen far short of the intense beauty, transparency, and purity of the water, and the wonderful radiance and brilliancy of the "Rainbow in the Mist." And I fear the beauties of Niagara in natural colours can never be obtained in the camera; but what a glorious triumph for photography if they were. Mr. Church's picture, painted a few years ago, is the most faithful exponent of nature's gorgeous colouring of Niagara that has yet been produced. Indeed, the brilliant and harmonious colouring of this grand picture can scarcely be surpassed by the hand and skill of man. After obtaining our views of the Grand Rapids and the Falls from Table Rock, we put up our traps, and leaving them in charge of the courteous proprietor of the Museum, we prepared to go _under_ the great Horse Shoe Fall. Clothing ourselves in india-rubber suits, furnished by our guide, we descended the stairs near Table Rock, eighty-seven steps, and, led by a negro, we went under the great sheet of water as far as we could go to Termination Rock, and standing there for a while in that vast cave of watery darkness, holding on to the negro's hand, we felt lost in wonder and amazement, but not fear. How long we might have remained in that bewildering situation it would be impossible to say, but being gently drawn back by our sable conductor, we returned to the light and consciousness of our position. The volume of water being much greater here than at the Cave of the Winds, and the spray being all around, we could not see anything but darkness visible below, and an immense moving mass before, which we knew by feeling to be water. There is some fascination about the place, for after coming out into the daylight I went back again alone, but the guide, hurrying after me, brought me back, and held my hand until we reached the stairs to return to the Museum. On our way back our guide told us that more than "twice-told tale" of Niagara and Vesuvius. If I may be pardoned for mixing up the ridiculous with the sublime, I may as well repeat the story, for having just come from under the Falls we were prepared to believe the truth of it, if the geographical difficulty could have been overcome. An Italian visiting the Falls and going under the Horse Shoe, was asked, on coming out, what he thought of the sight. The Italian replied it was very grand and wonderful, but _nothing_ to the sight of Mount Vesuvius in a grand eruption. The guide's retort was, "I guess if you bring _your_ Vesuvius here, _our_ Niagara will soon put his fires out." I do not vouch for the truth of the story, but give it as nearly as possible as I was told. Returning to the Museum and making ourselves "as we were," and comforting ourselves with something inside after the wetting we had got out, we took up our traps, and wending our way back to the ferry, recrossed the river in much the same manner that we crossed over in the morning; and sending our "baggage" up in the cars we thought we would walk up the "long stairs," 290 steps, by the side of the railway. On nearing the top, we felt as if we must "cave in," but having trodden so far the back of a "lion," we determined to see the end of his tail, and pushing on to the top, we had the satisfaction of having accomplished the task we had set ourselves. Perhaps before abandoning the Canadian side of Niagara, I should have said something about Table Rock, which, as I have said, is on the Canadian side, and very near to the Horse Shoe Fall. It took its name from the table-like form it originally presented. It was formerly much larger than it is now, but has, from time to time, fallen away. At one time it was very extensive and projected over the precipice fifty or sixty feet, and was about 240 feet long and 100 feet thick. On the 26th of June, 1850, this tremendous mass of rock, nearly half an acre, fell into the river with a crash and a noise like the sound of an earthquake. The whole of that immense mass of rock was buried in the depths of the river, and completely hidden from sight. No one was killed, which was a miracle, for several persons had been standing on the rock just a few minutes before it fell. The vicinity is still called Table Rock, though the projecting part that gave rise to the name is gone. It is, nevertheless, the best point on the Canada side for obtaining a grand and comprehensive view of Niagara Falls. The next scenes of our photographic labours were Suspension Bridge, the Long Rapids, The Whirlpool, and Devil's Hole. These subjects, though not so grand as Niagara, are still interestingly and closely associated with the topographical history and legendary interest of the Falls. And we thought a few "impressions" of the scenes, and a visit to the various places, would amply repay us for the amount of fatigue we should have to undergo on such a trip under the scorching sun of _August in America_. Descending to the shore, and stepping on board the steamer _Maid of the Mist_, which plies up and down the river for about two miles, on the tranquil water between the Falls and the Lower Rapids, we were "cast off," and in a little time reached the landing stage, a short distance above the Long Rapids. Landing on the American side, we ascended the steep road, which has been cut out of the precipice, and arriving at Suspension Bridge, proceeded to examine that wonderful specimen of engineering skill. It was not then finished, but the lower level was complete, and foot passengers and carriages could go along. They were busy making the railway "track" overhead, so that, when finished (which it is now), it would be a bridge of two stories--the lower one for passengers on foot and carriages, the upper one for the "cars." I did not see a "snorting monster" going along that spider's-web-like structure, but can very well imagine what must be the sensations of "railway passengers" as they pass along the giddy height. The span of the bridge, from bank to bank, is 800 feet, and it is 230 feet from the river to the lower or carriage road. The estimated cost was two hundred thousand dollars, about £40,000. A boy's toy carried the first wire across the river. When the wind was blowing straight across, a wire was attached to a kite, and thus the connecting thread between the two sides was secured, and afterwards by means of a running wheel, or traveller, wire after wire was sent across until each strand was made thick enough to carry the whole weight of the bridge, railway trains, and other traffic which now pass along. We went on to the bridge, and looked down on the rapids below, for the bridge spans the river at the narrowest point, and right over the commencement of the Lower Rapids. It was more of a test to my nerves to stand at the edge of the bridge and look down on those fearful rapids than it was to go under the Falls. To us, it seemed a miracle of ingenuity and skill how, from so frail a connection, a mere wire, so stupendous a structure could have been formed; and yet, viewing it from below, or at a distance, it looked like a bridge of threads. During its erection several accidents occurred. On one occasion, when the workmen were just venturing on to the cables to lay the flooring, and before a plank was made fast, one of those sudden storms, so peculiar to America, came up and carried away all the flooring into the Rapids. Four of the men were left hanging to the wires, which were swaying backwards and forwards in the hurricane in the most frightful manner. Their cries for help could scarcely be heard, from the noise of the Rapids and the howling of the wind, but the workmen on shore, seeing the perilous condition of their comrades, sent a basket, with a man in it, down the wire to rescue them from death. Thus, one by one, they were saved. Leaving the Bridge, and proceeding to the vicinity of the Whirlpool, still keeping the American side of the river, we pitched the camera, not _over_ the precipice, as I heard of one brother photographer doing, but on it, and took a view of the Bridge and the Rapids looking up towards the Falls, but a bend in the river prevented them being seen from this point. Not very far above the angry flood we saw the _Maid of the Mist_ lying quietly at her moorings. We next turned our attention to the great Whirlpool, which is about a mile below Suspension Bridge. Photographically considered, this is not nearly of so much interest as the Falls; but it is highly interesting, nevertheless, as a connecting link between their present and past history. It is supposed that ages ago--probably before the word went forth, "Let there _be_ light, and there _was_ light"--the Falls were as low down as the Whirlpool, a distance of over three miles below where they now are, or even lower down the river still. Geological observation almost proves this; and, that the present Whirlpool was once the great basin into which the Falls tumbled. In fact, that this was, in former ages, what the vortex at the foot of the Great Horse Shoe Fall is now. There seems to be no doubt whatever that the Falls are gradually though slowly receding, and they were just as likely to have been at the foot of the Long Rapids before the deluge, as not; especially when it is considered that the general aspect of the Falls has changed considerably, by gradual undermining of the soft shale and frequent falling and settling of the harder rocks during the last fifty years. Looking at the high and precipitous boundaries of the Long Rapids, it is difficult to come to any other conclusion than that, ages before the red man ever saw the Falls of Niagara, they rolled over a precipice between these rocky barriers in a more compact, but not less majestic body. The same vast quantity of water had to force its way through this narrower outlet, and it doubtless had a much greater distance to fall, for the precipices on each side of the river at this point are nearly 250 feet high, and the width of the gorge for a mile above and below the Whirlpool is not more than 700 feet. Considering that the Falls are now spread over an area of nearly three-quarters of a mile, and that this is the only outlet for all the superfluous waters of the great inland seas of Canada and America--Lakes Superior, Michigan, Huron, and Erie--and the hundreds of tributaries thereto, it may easily be conceived how great the rush of waters through so narrow a defile must necessarily be; their turbulence and impatience rather aptly reminding you of a spoilt child--not in size or form, but in behaviour. They have so long had their own way, and done as they liked on the upper river and at the Falls, they seem as if they could not brook the restraint put upon them now by the giant rocks and lofty precipices that stand erect, on either side, hurling them back defiantly in tumultuous waves, seething, and hissing, and roaring in anger, lashing themselves into foam, and swelling with rage, higher in the middle, as if they sought an unpolluted way to the lake below, where they might calm their angry and resentful passions, and lay their chafed heads on the soft and gently heaving bosom of their lovely sister Ontario. It is a remarkable circumstance that the waters of the Rapids, both above and below the Whirlpool, in this defile are actually higher in the middle, by eight or nine feet, than at the sides, as if the space afforded them by their stern sentinels on each side were not enough to allow them to pass through in order and on a level. They seem to come down the upper part of the gorge like a surging and panic-stricken multitude, until they are stopped for a time by the gigantic precipice forming the lower boundary of the Whirlpool, which throws them back, and there they remain whirling and whirling about until they get away by an under current from the vortex; and, rising again in the lower part of the gorge, which runs off at right angles to the upper, they again show their angry heads, and rush madly and tumultuously away towards Lake Ontario. The bed of these rapids must be fearfully rugged, or the surface of the waters could not possibly be in such a broken state, for the water is at least 100 feet deep, by measurement made above and below the Rapids. But nobody has ventured to "heave the lead" either in the Rapids themselves or in the Whirlpool, the depth of which is not known. There is not much picturesque beauty at this point. Indeed, the Whirlpool itself is rather of a fearful and horrible character, with little to see but the mad torrent struggling and writhing in the most furious manner, to force its way down between its rocky boundaries. I saw logs of wood and other "wreck," probably portions of canal boats that had come down the river and been swept over the Falls, whirling around but not coming to the centre. When they are seen to get to the vortex they are tipped up almost perpendicularly and then vanish from sight, at last released from their continually diminishing and circular imprisonment. It has sometimes happened that the dead bodies of people drowned in the upper part of the river have been seen whirling about in this frightful pool for many days. In 1841, three soldiers, deserters from the British army, attempting to swim across the river above these rapids, were drowned. Their bodies were carried down to the Whirlpool, where they were seen whirling about for nearly a fortnight. Leaving _this_ gloomy and soul-depressing locality we proceeded for about half a mile further down the river, and visited that frightful chasm called Devil's Hole, or Bloody Run. The former name it takes from a horrible deed of fiendish and savage ferocity that was committed there by the Indians, and the latter name from the circumstance of that deed causing a stream of human blood to run through the ravine and mingle with the fierce water of the Rapids. Exactly one hundred years ago, during the French and Canadian wars, a party of 250 officers, men, women, and children, were retreating from Fort Schlosser, on the Upper Niagara River, and, being decoyed into an ambush, were driven over into this dreadful chasm, and fell to the bottom, a distance of nearly 200 feet. Only two escaped. A drummer was caught by one of the trees growing on the side of the precipice, and the other, a soldier named Steadman, escaped during the conflict, at the commencement of the treacherous onslaught. He was mounted, and the Indians surrounding him, seized the bridle, and were attempting to drag him off his horse; but, cutting the reins, and giving his charger the "rowels deep," the animal dashed forward, and carried him back in safety to Fort Schlosser. The Indians afterwards gave him all the land he encircled in his flight, and he took up his abode among them. In after years he put the goats on Goat Island--hence its name--by dropping carefully down the middle of the upper stream in a boat. After landing the goats he returned to the mainland, pushing his boat up the stream where the Rapids divide, until he reached safe water. The events of the foregoing episode occurred in 1765, and it is to be hoped that the Indians were the chief instigators and perpetrators of the massacre of Bloody Run. While we were looking about the chasm to see if there were any fossil remains in the place, an unlooked-for incident occurred. I saw two men coming up from the bottom of the ravine carrying _fish_--and the oddest fish and the whitest fish I ever saw. The idea of anyone fishing in those headlong rapids had never occurred to us; but probably these men knew some _fissures_ in the rocks where the waters were quiet, and where the fish put into as a place of refuge from the stormy waters into which they had been drawn. No wonder the poor finny creatures were white, for I should think they had been frightened almost out of their lives before they were seized by their captors. I don't think I should have liked to have partaken of the meal they furnished, for they were very "shy-an'-hide" looking fishes. But soon we were obliged to give up both our geological studies and piscatorial speculations, for black clouds were gathering overhead, shutting off the light, and making the dark ravine too gloomy to induce us to prolong our stay in that fearful chasm, with its melancholy associations of dark deeds of bloodshed and wholesale murder. Before we gained the road the rain came down, the lightning flashed, and the thunder clapped, reverberating sharp and loud from the rocks above, and we hurried away from the dismal place. On reaching the landing stage, we took refuge from the storm and rain by again going on board the _Maid of the Mist_. She soon started on her last trip for the day, and we reached our hotel, glad to get out of a "positive bath," and indulge in a "toning mixture" of alcohol, sugar, and _warm_ water. We had no "_gold_" but our "paper" being _good_, we did not require any. After a delightful sojourn of three weeks at the Falls, and visiting many other places of minor interest in their neighbourhood, I bade adieu to the kind friends I had made and met, with many pleasant recollections of their kindness, and a never-to-be-forgotten remembrance of the charms and beauties, mysteries and majesty, power and grandeur, and terror and sublimity of Niagara.--_Photographic News_, 1865. PICTURES OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. Taken in Autumn. Photographs of the River St. Lawrence conveying an adequate idea of its extent and varied aspects, could not be taken in a week, a month, or a year. It is only possible in this sketch to call attention to the most novel and striking features of this great and interesting river, passing them hurriedly, as I did, in the "express boat," by which I sailed from the Niagara River to Montreal. Lake Ontario being the great head waters of the St. Lawrence, and the natural connection between that river and Niagara, I shall endeavour to illustrate, with pen and pencil, my sail down the Niagara River, Lake Ontario, and the St. Lawrence. Stepping on board the steamer lying at Lewiston, seven miles below Niagara, and bound for Montreal, I went to the "clerk's office," paid seven and a half dollars--about thirty shillings sterling--and secured my bed, board, and passage for the trip, the above small sum being all that is charged for a first-class passage on board those magnificent steamers. I don't remember the name of "our boat," but that is of very little consequence, though I dare say it was the _Fulton_, that being in steamboat nomenclature what "Washington" is to men, cities, and towns, and even territory, in America. But she was a splendid vessel, nevertheless, with a handsome dining saloon, a fine upper saloon running the whole length of the upper deck, about two hundred feet, an elegant "ladies' saloon," a stateroom cabin as well, and a powerful "walking engine." "All aboard," and "let go;" splash went the paddle-wheels, and we moved off majestically, going slowly down the river until we passed Fort Niagara on the American side, and Fort George on the British, at the foot of the river, and near the entrance to the Lake. On Fort Niagara the "Star Spangled Banner" was floating, its bright blue field blending with the clear blue sky of an autumn afternoon, its starry representatives of each State shining like stars in the deep blue vault of heaven, its red and white bars, thirteen in number, as pure in colour as the white clouds and crimson streaks of the west. The mingled crosses of St. Andrew and St. George were waving proudly over the fort opposite. Brave old flag, long may you wave! These forts played their respective parts amidst the din of battle during the wars of 1812 and 1813; but with these we have neither time nor inclination to deal; we, like the waters of the Niagara, are in a hurry to reach the bosom of Lake Ontario. Passing the forts, we were soon on the expanse of waters, and being fairly "at sea," we began to settle ourselves and "take stock," as it were, of our fellow travellers. It is useless to describe the aspect of the Lake; I might as well describe the German Ocean, for I could not see much difference between that and Lake Ontario, except that I could not sniff the iodine from the weeds drying in the sun while we "hugged the shore," or taste salt air after we were out in mid ocean--"the land is no longer in view." To be at sea is to be at sea, no matter whether it is on a fresh water ocean or a salt one. The sights, the sensations, and consequences are much the same. There, a ship or two in full sail; here, a passenger or two, of both sexes, with the "wind taken out of their sails." The "old salts" or "old freshes" behave themselves much as usual, and so do the "green" ones of both atmospheres--the latter by preparing for a "bath" of perspiration and throwing everything down the "sink," or into the sea; and the former by picking out companions for the voyage. Being myself an "old salt," and tumbling in with one or two of a "fellow feeling wondrous kind," we were soon on as good terms as if we had known each other for years. After "supper," a sumptuous repast at 6 p.m., we went on to the "hurricane deck" to enjoy the calm and pleasant evening outside. There was a "gentle swell" on the Lake--not much, but enough to upset a few. After dark, we went into the "ladies' cabin"--an elegant saloon, beautifully furnished, and not without a grand piano, where the "old freshes" of the softer sex--young and pretty ones too--were amusing themselves with playing and singing. An impromptu concert was soon formed, and a few very good pieces of music well played and sung. All went off very well while nothing but English, or, I should more properly say, American and Canadian, were sung, but one young lady, unfortunately, essayed one of the sweetest and most plaintive of Scotch songs--"Annie Laurie." Now fancy the love-sick "callant" for the sake of Annie Laurie lying down to _die_; just fancy Annie Laurie without the Scotch; only fancy Annie Laurie in a sort of mixture of Canadianisms and Americanisms; fancy "toddy" without the whisky, and you have some idea of "Annie Laurie" as sung on board the _Fulton_ while splashing away on Lake Ontario, somewhere between America and Canada. There being little more to induce us to remain there, and by the ship's regulations it was getting near the time for "all lights out" in the cabins, we took an early "turn in," with the view of making an early "turn-out," so as to be alive and about when we should enter the St. Lawrence, which we did at 6 o'clock a.m., on a fine bright morning, the sun just rising to light up and "heighten" all the glorious tints of the trees on the Thousand and One Islands, among which we were now sailing. It is impossible to form a correct idea of the width of the St. Lawrence at the head of the river. The islands are so large and numerous, it is difficult to come to a conclusion whether you are on a river or on a lake. Many of these islands are thickly wooded, so that they look more like the mainland on each side of you as the steamer glides down "mid channel" between them. The various and brilliant tints of the foliage of the trees of America in autumn are gorgeous, such as never can be seen in this country; and their "chromotones" present an insurmountable difficulty to a photographer with his double achromatic lens and camera. Imagine our oaks clothed with leaves possessing all the varieties of red tints, from brilliant carmine down to burnt sienna--the brightest copper bays that grow in England are cool in tone compared with them; fancy our beeches, birches, and ashes thick with leaves of a bright yellow colour, from gamboge down to yellow ochre; our pines, firs, larches, and spruces, carrying all the varieties of green, from emerald down to terra verte; in fact, all the tints that are, can be seen on the trees when they are going into "the sere and yellow leaf" of autumn, excepting _blue_, and even that is supplied by the bluebirds (Sialia wilsonii) flitting about among the leaves, and in the deep cool tint of the sky, repeated and blended with the reflection of the many-coloured trees in the calm, still water of the river. Some of the trees--the maples, for instance--exhibit in themselves, most vividly, the brightest shades of red, green, and yellow; but when the wind blows these resplendent colours about, the atmosphere is like a mammoth kaleidoscope that is never allowed to rest long enough to present to the eye a symmetrical figure or pattern, a perfect chaos of the most vivid and brilliant colours too gorgeous to depict. Long before this we had got clear of the islands at the foot of the lake and head of the river, and were steaming swiftly down the broad St. Lawrence. It is difficult to say how broad, but it varied from three to five or six miles in width; indeed, the river very much resembles the Balloch End, which is the broadest of Lochlomond; and some of the passages between the islands are very similar to the straits between the "Pass of Balmaha" and the island of Inchcailliach. The river is not hemmed in with such mountains as Ben Lomond and Ben Dhu, but, in many respects, the St. Lawrence very much resembles parts of our widest lakes, Lochlomond and Windermere. Having enjoyed the sight of the bright, beautiful scenery and the fresh morning air for a couple of hours, we were summoned to breakfast by the sound of the steward's "Big Ben." Descending to the lower cabin, we seated ourselves at the breakfast table, and partook of a most hearty meal. All the meals on board these steamers are served in the most sumptuous style. During the repast some talked politics, some dollars and cents, others were speculating on how we should get down the Rapids, and when we should make them. Among the latter was myself, for I had seen rapids which I had not the slightest desire to be in or on; and, what sort of rapids we were coming to was of some importance to all who had not been on them. But everybody seemed anxious to be "on deck," and again "look out" for the quickening of the stream, or when the first "white lippers," should give indication of their whereabouts. My fellow passengers were from all parts of the Union; the Yankee "guessed," the Southerner "reckoned," and the Western man "calculated" we should soon be among the "jumpers." Each one every now and then strained his eyes "ahead," down stream, to see if he could descry "broken water." At last an old river-man sung out, "There they are." There are the Longue Sault Rapids, the first we reach. Having plenty of "daylight," we did not feel much anxiety as we neared them, which we quickly did, for "the stream runs fast." We were soon among the jumping waters, and it is somewhat difficult to describe the sensation, somewhat difficult to find a comparison of a suitable character. It is not like being at sea in a ship in a "dead calm." The vessel does not "roll" with such solemn dignity, nor does she "pitch" and rise again so buoyantly as an Atlantic steamer (strange enough, I once crossed the Atlantic in the steamship _Niagara_), as she ploughs her way westward or eastward in a "head wind," and through a head sea. She rather kicks and jerks, and is let "down a peg" or two, with a shake and a fling. Did you ever ride a spavined horse down a hill? If so, you can form some idea of the manner in which we were let down the Longue Sault and Cedar Rapids and the St. Louis Cascades. One of our fellow passengers--a Scotchman--told that somewhat _apropos_ and humorous story of the "Hielandman's" first trip across the Firth of Forth in a "nasty sea." Feeling a little uneasy about the stomach, and his bile being rather disturbed, the prostrate mountaineer cried out to the man at the "tiller" to "stop tickling the beast's tail--what was he making the animal kick that way for?" And so, telling our stories, and cracking our jokes, we spent the time until our swift vessel brought us to a landing, where we leave her and go on board a smaller boat, one more suitable for the descent of the more dangerous rapids, which we have yet to come to. "All aboard," and away we go again as fast as steam and a strong current can take us, passing an island here and there, a town or a village half French and English, with a sprinkling of the Indian tribes, on the banks of the river now and then. But by this time it is necessary to go below again and dine. Bed, board, and travelling, are all included in the fare, so everyone goes to dinner. There is, however, so much to see during this delightful trip, that nobody likes to be below any longer than can be avoided. Immediately after dinner most are on deck again, anxious to see all that is to be seen on this magnificent river. The sights are various and highly interesting to the mind or "objectives" of either artist or photographer. Perhaps one of the most novel subjects for the camera and a day's photographing would be "Life on a Raft," as you see them drifting down the St. Lawrence. There is an immense raft--a long, low, flat, floating island, studded with twenty or thirty sails, and half a dozen huts, peopled with men, women, and children, the little ones playing about as if they were on a "plank road," or in a garden. It is "washing day," and the clean clothes are drying in the sun and breeze--indicative of the strictest domestic economy, and scrupulous cleanliness of those little huts, the many-coloured garments giving the raft quite a gay appearance, as if it were decked with the "flags of all nations." But what a life of tedious monotony it must be, drifting down the river in this way for hundreds of miles, from the upper part of Lake Ontario to Montreal or Quebec. How they get down the rapids of the St. Lawrence I do not know, but I should think they run considerable risk of being washed off; the raft seems too low in the water, and if not extremely well fastened, might part and be broken up. We passed two or three of these rafts, one a very large one, made up of thousands of timbers laid across and across like warp and weft; yet the people seemed happy enough on these "timber islands;" we passed them near enough to see their faces and hear their voices, and I regretted I could not "catch their shadows," or stop and have an hour or two's work among them with the camera or the pencil; but we passed them by as if they were a fixture in the river, and they gave us a shout of "God speed," as if they did not envy our better pace in the least. There is abundance of work for the camera at all times of the year on the St. Lawrence; I have seen it in summer and autumn, and have attempted to describe some of its attractions. And I was told that when the river--not the rapids--is ice-bound, the banks covered with snow, and the trees clad in icicles, they present a beautiful scene in the sunshine. And in the spring, when the ice is breaking up, and the floes piling high on one another, it is a splendid sight to see them coming down, hurled about and smashed in the rapids, showing that the water in its liquid state is by far the most powerful. But now we are coming to the most exciting part of our voyage. The steam is shut off, the engine motionless, the paddle-wheels are still, and we are gliding swiftly and noiselessly down with the current. Yonder speck on the waters is the Indian coming in his canoe to pilot us down the dangerous rapids. We near each other, and he can now be seen paddling swiftly, and his canoe shoots like an arrow towards us. Now he is alongside, he leaps lightly on board, his canoe is drawn up after him, and he takes command of the "boat." Everybody on board knows the critical moment is approaching. The passengers gather "forward," the ladies cling to the arms of their natural protectors, conversation is stopped, the countenances of everyone exhibit intense excitement and anxiety, and every eye is "fixed ahead," or oscillating between the pilot and the rushing waters which can now be seen from the prow of the vessel. The Indian and three other men are at the wheel in the "pilot house," holding the helm "steady," and we are rushing down the stream unaided by any other propelling power than the force of the current, at a rate of twenty miles an hour. Now we hear the rushing and plunging sound of the waters, and in a moment the keen eye of the Indian catches sight of the land mark, which is the signal for putting the helm "hard a port;" the wheel flies round like lightning, and we are instantly dropped down a perpendicular fall of ten or twelve feet, the vessel careening almost on her "beam ends," in the midst of these wild, white waters, an immense rock or rocky island right ahead. But that is safely "rounded," and we are again in comparatively quiet water. The steam is turned into the cylinders, and we go on our course in a sober, sensible, and steamboat-like fashion. When we were safely past the rapids and round the rock, a gentleman remarked to me that "once in a lifetime was enough of that." It was interesting to watch the countenances of the passengers, and mark the difference of expression before and after the passage of the rapids. Before, it was all excitement and anxiety, mingled with a wish-it-was-over sort of look; and all were silent. After, everybody laughed and talked, and seemed delighted at having passed the _Lachine_ Rapids in safety; yet most people are anxious to undergo the excitement and incur the risk and danger of the passage. You can, if you like, leave the boat above Lachine and proceed to Montreal by the cars, but I don't think any of our numerous passengers ever thought of doing such a thing. As long as ever this magnificent water way is free from ice, and the passage can be made, it is done. I don't know that more than one accident has ever occurred, but the risk seems considerable. There is a very great strain on the tiller ropes, and if one of them were to "give out" at the critical time, nothing could save the vessel from being dashed to pieces against the "rock ahead," and scarcely a life could be saved. No one can approach the spot except from above, and then there is no stopping to help others; you must go with the waters, rushing madly down over and among the rocks. The Indians often took these rapids, in their canoes, to descend to the lower part of the St. Lawrence; and one of them undertook to pilot the first steamer down in safety. His effort was successful, and he secured for his tribe (the Iroquois) a charter endowing them with the privileges and emoluments in perpetuity. I wish I could have obtained photographic impressions of these scenes and groups, but the only lens I could draw a "focus" with was the eye, and the only "plate" I had ready for use was the _retina_. However, the impressions obtained on that were so "vigorous and well-defined," I can at any moment call them up, like "spirits from the vasty deep," and reproduce them in my mental camera. The remaining nine miles of the voyage were soon accomplished. Passing the first abutment of the Victoria Bridge, which now crosses the St. Lawrence, at this point two miles wide, we quickly reached the fine quay and canal locks at Montreal, where we landed just as it was growing dark, after a delightful and exciting voyage of about thirty hours' duration, and a distance of more than four hundred miles. Quick work; but it must be borne in mind how much our speed was accelerated by the velocity of the current, and that the return trip by the canal, past the rapids, cannot be performed in anything like the time. On reaching the quay I parted with my agreeable fellow travellers, and sought an hotel, where once more, after a long interval, I slept under a roof over which floated the flag which every Englishman is proud of--the Union Jack. Next morning I rose early, and, with a photographic eye, scanned the city of Montreal. The streets are narrow, but clean, and well built of stone. Most of the suburban streets and villa residences are "frame buildings," but there are many handsome villas of stone about the base of the "mountain." I visited the principal buildings and the Cathedral of Notre Dame, ascended to the top of the Bell Tower, looked down upon the city, and had a fine view of its splendid quays and magnificent river frontage, and across the country southwards for a great distance, as far as the Adirondack Mountains, where the Hudson River bubbles into existence at Hendrick Spring, whence it creeps and gathers strength as it glides and falls and rushes alternately until it enters the Atlantic below New York, over three hundred miles south of its source. But the mountain at the back of Montreal prevented my seeing anything beyond the city in that direction. I afterwards ascended the mountain, from the summit of which I could see an immense distance up the river, far beyond Lachine, and across the St. Lawrence, and southwards into the "States." Being homeward bound, and having no desire at that time to prolong my stay in the western hemisphere, I did not wait to obtain any photographs of Montreal or the neighbourhood; but, taking ship for old England, I leave the lower St. Lawrence and its beauties; Quebec, with its glorious associations of Wolfe and the plains of Abraham, its fortifications, which are now being so fully described and discussed in the House of Commons, and the Gulf of the St. Lawrence, where vessels have sometimes to be navigated from the "masthead," in consequence of the low-lying sea fog which frequently prevails there. A man is sent up "aloft" where he can see over the fog, which lies like a stratum of white cloud on the gulf, and pilot the ship safely through the fleet of merchantmen which are constantly sailing up and down while the river is open. The fog may not be much above the "maintop," but is so dense it is impossible to see beyond the end of the "bowsprit" from the deck of the ship you are aboard; but from the "masthead" the "look-out" can see the highland and the masts and sails of the other ships, and avoid the danger of going "ashore" or coming into collision by crying out to the man at the wheel such sea phrases as "Port," "Starboard," "Steady," &c.; and when "tacking" up or down the gulf, such as "luff," "higher," "let her off." Indeed, the whole trip of the St. Lawrence--from Lake Ontario to the Atlantic--is intensely exciting. While off the coast of Newfoundland, I witnessed one of those beautiful sights of nature in her sternest mood, which I think has yet to be rendered in the camera--icebergs in the sunlight. A great deal has been said about their beauty and colour, but nothing too much. Anyone who saw Church's picture of "The Icebergs," exhibited in London last year, may accept that as a faithful reflection of all their beautiful colours and dreadful desolation. All sailors like to give them as wide a "berth" as possible, and never admire their beauty, but shun them for their treachery. Sometimes their base extends far beyond their perpendicular lines, and many a good ship has struck on the shoal of ice under water, when the Captain thought he was far enough away from it. The largest one I saw was above a hundred feet above the water-line, and as they never exhibit more than one-third of their ponderous mass of frozen particles, there would be over two hundred feet of it below water, probably shoaling far out in all directions. We had a quick run across the Atlantic, and I landed in Liverpool, in the month of November, amid fog, and smoke, and gloom. What a contrast in the light! Here it was all fog and darkness, and photography impossible. There--on the other side of the waters--the light is always abundant both in winter and summer; and it is only during a snow or rain storm that our transatlantic brother photographers are brought to a standstill.--_Photographic News_, 1865. PHOTOGRAPHIC IMPRESSIONS. The Hudson, Developed on the Voyage. "We'll have a trip up the Hudson," said a friend of mine, one of the best operators in New York; "we'll have a trip up the Hudson, and go and spend a few days with the 'old folk' in Vermont, and then you will see us 'Yankees'--our homes and hospitalities--in a somewhat different light from what you see them in this Gotham." So it was arranged, and on the day appointed we walked down Broadway, turned down Courtland Street to the North River, and went on board the splendid river steamer _Isaac Newton_, named, in graceful compliment, after one of England's celebrities. Two dollars (eight and fourpence) each secured us a first-class passage in one of those floating palaces, for a trip of 144 miles up one of the most picturesque rivers in America. Wishing for a thorough change of scene and occupation, and being tired of "posing and arranging lights" and "drawing a focus" on the faces of men, women, and children in a stifling and pent-up city, we left the camera with its "racks and pinions" behind, determined to revel in the beautiful and lovely only of nature, and breathe the fresh and exhilarating air as we steamed up the river, seated at the prow, and fanned by the breeze freshened by the speed of our swift-sailing boat. Leaving New York, with its hundred piers jutting out into the broad stream, and its thousand masts and church spires on the one side, and Jersey City on the other, we are soon abreast of Hoboken and the "Elysian Fields," where the Germans assemble to drink "lager beer" and spend their Sundays and holidays. On the right or east side of the river is Spuyten Duyvil Creek, which forms a junction with the waters of the Sound or East River, and separates the tongue of land on which New York stands from the main, making the island of Manhattan. This island is a little over thirteen miles long and two and a half miles wide. The Dutch bought the whole of it for £4 16s., and that contemptible sum was not paid to the poor, ignorant, and confiding Indians in hard cash, but in toys and trumpery articles not worth half the money. Truly it may be said that the "Empire City" of the United States did not cost a cent. an acre not more than two hundred and fifty years ago, and now some parts of it are worth a dollar a square foot. At Spuyten Duyvil Creek Henry Hudson had a skirmish with the Indians, while his ship, the _Half Moon_, was lying at anchor. Now we come to the picturesque and the beautiful, subjects fit for the camera of the photographer, the pencil of the artist, and the pen of the historian. On the western side of the Hudson, above Hoboken, we catch the first glimpse of that singular and picturesque natural river wall called the "Palisades," a series of bold and lofty escarpments, extending for about thirty-five miles up the river, and varying in an almost perpendicular height from four to over six hundred feet, portions of them presenting a very similar appearance to Honister Craig, facing the Vale of Buttermere and Salisbury Craigs, near Edinburgh. About two and a half miles above Manhattan Island, on the east bank of the Hudson, I noticed a castellated building of considerable pretensions, but somewhat resembling one of those stage scenes of Dunsinane in _Macbeth_, or the Castle of Ravenswood in the _Bride of Lammermoor_. On enquiring to whom this fortified-looking residence belonged, I was told it was Fort Hill, the retreat of Edwin Forest, the celebrated American tragedian. It is built of blue granite, and must have been a costly fancy. Now we come to the pretty village of Yonkers, where there are plenty of subjects for the camera, on Sawmill River, and the hills behind the village. Here, off Yonkers, in 1609, Henry Hudson came to the premature conclusion, from the strong tidal current, that he had discovered the north-west passage, which was the primary object of his voyage, and which led to the discovery of the river which now bears his name. At Dobb's Ferry there is not much to our liking; but passing that, and before reaching Tarrytown, we are within the charming atmosphere of Sunnyside, where Washington Irving lived and wrote many of his delightful works. Tarrytown is the next place we make, and here, during the war for independence, the enthusiastic but unfortunate soldier, Major André, was captured; and at Tappan, nearly opposite, he was hung as a spy on the 2nd of October, 1780. All the world knows the unfortunate connection between Benedict Arnold, the American traitor, and Major André, the frank, gallant, and enterprising British officer; so I shall leave those subjects to the students of history, and pass on as fast as our boat will carry us to the next place of note on the east bank of the river, Sing Sing, which is the New York State prison, where the refractory and not over honest members of State society are sent to be "operated" upon by the salutary treatment of confinement and employment. Some of them are "doing time" in _dark rooms_, which are very unsuitable for photographic operations, and where _a little more light_, no matter how yellow or non-actinic, would be gladly received. The "silent cell" system is not practised so much in this State as in some of the others; but the authorities do their best to _improve the negative_ or refractory character of the _subjects_ placed under their care. It is, however, very questionable whether their efforts are not entirely _negatived_, and the bad character of the subject more _fully developed_ and _intensified_ by contact with the more powerful _reducing agents_ by which they are surrounded. Their prison is, however, very pleasantly situated on the banks of the Hudson, about thirty-three miles above New York City. Opposite Sing Sing is Rockland Lake, one hundred and fifty feet above the river, at the back of the Palisades. This lake is celebrated for three things--leeches and water lilies in summer, and ice in winter. Rockland Lake ice is prized by the thirsty denizens of New York City in the sultry summer months, and even in this country it is becoming known as a cooler and "refresher." Nearly opposite Sing Sing is the boldest and highest buttress of the Palisades; it is called "Vexatious Point," and stands six hundred and sixty feet above the water. About eleven miles above Sing Sing we come to Peekskill, which is at the foot of the Peekskill Mountains. Backed up by those picturesque hills it has a pretty appearance from the river. This was also a very important place during the wars. At this point the Americans set fire to a small fleet rather than let it fall into the hands of the British. A little higher up on the west side is the important military station of West Point. This place, as well as being most charmingly situated, is also famous as the great military training school of the United States. Probably you have noticed, in reading the accounts of the war now raging between North and South, that this or that general or officer was a "West Point man." General George M'Clellan received his military education at West Point; but, whatever military knowledge he gained at this college, strengthened by experience and observation at the Crimea, he was not allowed to make much use of while he held command of the army of the Potomac. His great opponent, General Lee, was also a "West Point man," and it does not require much consideration to determine which of the "Pointsmen" was the smarter. Washington has also made West Point famous in the time of the war for independence. Benedict Arnold held command of this point and other places in the neighbourhood, when he made overtures to Sir Henry Clinton to hand over to the British, for a pecuniary consideration of £10,000, West Point and all its outposts. A little higher up is Cold Spring, on the east side of the Hudson; but we will pass that by, and now we are off Newburg on the west bank. This is a large and flourishing town also at the foot of high hills--indeed, we are now in the highlands of the Hudson, and it would be difficult to find a town or a village that is not _backed up_ by hills. At the time I first visited these scenes there was a large photographic apparatus manufactory at Newburg, where they made "coating boxes," "buff wheels," "Pecks blocks," &c., on a very extensive scale, for the benefit of themselves and all who were interested in the "cleaning," "buffing," and "coating" of Daguerreotype plates. Opposite Newburg is Fishkill; but we shall pass rapidly up past Poughkeepsie on the right, and other places right and left, until we come to Hudson, on the east side of the river. Opposite Hudson are the Catskill Mountains, and here the river is hemmed in by mountains on all sides, resembling the head of Ullswater lake, or the head of Loch Lomond or Loch Katrine; and here we have a photographic curiosity to descant upon. Down through the gorges of these mountains came a blast like the sound from a brazen trumpet, which electrified the photographers of the day. Among these hills resided the Rev. Levi Hill, who lately died in New York, the so-called inventor or discoverer of the Hillotype, or Daguerreotypes in natural colours. So much were the "Daguerreans" of New York startled by the announcement of this wonderful discovery, that they formed themselves into a sort of company to buy up the _highly coloured_ invention. A deputation of some of the most respectable and influential Daguerreotypists of New York was appointed to wait upon the reverend discoverer, and offer him I don't remember how many thousand dollars for his discovery as it stood; and it is said that he showed them specimens of "coloured Daguerreotypes,"--but refused to sell or impart to them the secret until he had completed his discovery, and made it perfect by working out the mode of producing the only lacking colour, chrome yellow. But in that he never succeeded, and so this wonderful discovery was neither given nor sold to the world. Many believed the truth of the man's statements--whether he believed it himself or not, God only knows. One skilful Daguerreotypist, in the State of New York, assured me he had seen the specimens, and had seen the rev. gentleman at work in his laboratory labouring and "buffing" away at a mass of something like a piece of lava, until by dint of hard rubbing and scrubbing the colours were said to "appear like spirits," one by one, until all but the stubborn chrome yellow showed themselves on the surface. I could not help laughing at my friend's statement and evident credulity, but after seeing "jumping Quakers," disciples of Joe Smith, and believers in the doctrine of Johanna Southcote, I could not be much surprised at any creed either in art or religion, or that men should fall into error in the Hillotype faith as easily as into errors of ethics or morality. I was assured by my friend (not my travelling companion) that they were beautiful specimens of colouring. Granted; but that did not prove that they were not done by hand. Indeed, a suspicion got abroad that the specimens shown by Mr. Hill were _hand-coloured_ pictures brought from Europe. And from all that I could learn they were more like the beautifully coloured Daguerreotypes of M. Mansion, who was then colourist to Mr. Beard, than anything else I could see or hear of. Being no mean hand myself at colouring a Daguerreotype in those days, I was most anxious to see one of those wonderful specimens of "photography in natural colours," but I never could; and the inventor lived in such an out-of-the way place, among the Catskills, that I had no opportunity of paying him a visit. I have every reason to believe that the hand-coloured pictures by M. Mansion and myself were the only Hillotypes that were ever exhibited in America. Many of my coloured Daguerreotypes were exhibited at the State Fair in Castle Garden, and at the Great Exhibition at New York in 1853. But perhaps the late Rev. Levi Hill was desirous of securing a posthumous fame, and may have left something behind him after all; for surely, no man in his senses would have made such a noise about Daguerreotypes in "natural colours" as he did if he had not some reason for doing so. If so, and if he has left anything behind him that will lead us into nature's hidden mine of natural colours, now is the time for the "heirs and administrators" of the deceased gentlemen to secure for their deceased relative a fame as enduring as the Catskill Mountains themselves. The Katzbergs, as the Dutch called the Catskill Mountains, on account of the number of wild cats they found among them, have more than a photographic interest. The late Washington Irving has imparted to them an attraction of a romantic character almost as bewitching as that conferred upon the mountains in the vicinity of Loch Lomond and Loch Katrine by Sir Walter Scott. It is true that the delicate fancy of Irving has not peopled the Katzbergs with such "warriors true" as stood "Along Benledi's living side;" nor has he "sped the fiery cross" over "dale, glen, and valley;" neither has he tracked "The antler'd monarch of the waste" from hill to hill; but the war-whoop of the Mohegans has startled the wild beasts from their lair, and the tawny hunters of the tribe have followed up the trail of the panther until with bow and arrow swift they have slain him in his mountain hiding place. And Irving's quaint fancy has re-peopled the mountains again with the phantom figures of Hendrick Hudson and his crew, and put Rip van Winkle to sleep, like a big baby, in one of nature's huge cradles, where he slept for _twenty years_, and slept away the reign of good King George III. over the colonies, and awoke to find himself a bewildered citizen of the United States of America. And the place where he slept, and the place where he saw the solemn, silent crew of the "Half Moon" playing at ninepins, will be sought for and pointed out in all time coming. And why should these scenes of natural beauty and charming romance not be photographed on the spot? It has not been done to my knowledge, yet they are well worthy the attention of photographers, either amateur or professional. We leave the Catskill Mountains with some regret, because of the disappointment of their not yielding us the promised triumph of chemistry, "photography in natural colours," and because of their beauty and varying effects of _chiaroscuro_ not having been sufficiently rendered in the monochromes we have so long had an opportunity of obtaining in the camera. Passing Coxsackie, on the west bank of the Hudson, and many pleasant residences and places on each side of the river, we are soon at Albany, the capital of the State of New York, and the termination of our voyage on board the _Isaac Newton_. And well had our splendid steamer performed her part of the contract. Here we were, in ten hours, at Albany, 144 miles from New York City. What a contrast, in the rate of speed, between the _Isaac Newton_ and the first boat that steamed up the Hudson! The _Claremont_ took over thirty-six hours, wind and weather permitting, to perform the voyage between New York and Albany; and we had done it in ten. What a contrast, too, in the size, style, and deportment of the two boats! The _Claremont_ was a little, panting, puffing, half-clad, always-out-of-breath sort of thing, that splashed and struggled and groaned through the water, and threw its naked and diminutive paddle-wheels in and out of the river--like a man that can neither swim nor is willing to be drowned, throwing his arms in and out of the water in agony--and only reached her destination after a number of stoppings-to-breathe and spasmodic start-agains. The _Isaac Newton_ had glided swiftly and smoothly through the waters of the Hudson, her gigantic paddle-wheels performing as many revolutions in a minute as the other's did in twenty. But these were the advanced strides and improvements brought about by the workings and experiences of half a century. If the marine steam engine be such a wonderfully-improved machine in that period of time, what may not photography be when the art-science is fifty years old? What have not the thousands of active brains devoted to its advancement done for it already? What have not been the improvements and wonderful workings of photography in a quarter of a century? What improvements have not been effected in the lifetime of any old Daguerreotypist? When I first knew photography it was a ghostly thing--a shimmering phantom--that was flashed in and out of your eyes with the rapidity of lightning, as you tried to catch a sight of the image between the total darkness of the black polish of the silvered plate, and the blinding light of the sky, which was reflected as from a mirror into your eyes. But how these phantom figures vanished! How rapidly they changed from ghostly and almost invisible shadows to solid, visible, and all but tangible forms under the magical influence of Goddard's and Claudet's "bromine accelerator," and Fizeau's "fixing" or gilding process! How Mercury flew to the lovely and joint creations of chemistry and optics, and took kindly to the timid, hiding beauties of Iodine, Bromine, Silver, and Light, and brought them out, and showed them to the world, proudly, as "things of beauty," and "a joy for ever!" How Mercury clung to these latent beauties, and "developed" their charms, and became "attached" to them, and almost immovable; and consented, at last, to be tinted like a Gibson's Venus to enhance the charms and witcheries of his protégés! Anon was Mercury driven from Beauty's fair domain, and bright shining Silver, in another form, took up with two fuming, puffy fellows, who styled themselves Ether and Alcohol, with a villainous taint of methyl and something very much akin to gunpowder running through their veins. A most abominable compound they were, and some of the vilest of the vile were among their progeny; indeed, they were all a "hard lot," for I don't know how many rods--I may say tons--of iron had to be used before they could be brought into the civilized world at all. But, happily, they had a short life. Now they have almost passed away from off the face of the earth, and it is to be hoped that the place that knew them once will know them no more; for they were a dangerous set--fragile in substance, frightful abortions, and an incubus on the fair fame of photography. They bathed in the foulest of baths, and what served for one served for all. The poisonous and disgusting fluid was used over and over again. Loathsome and pestiferous vapours hovered about them, and they took up their abode in the back slums of our cities, and herded with the multitude, and a vast majority of them were not worth the consideration of the most callous officer of the sanitary commission. Everything that breathes the breath of life has its moments of agony, and these were the throes that agonised Photography in that fell epoch of her history. From the ashes of this burning shame Photography arose, Phoenix-like, and with Silver, seven times purified, took her ethereal form into the hearts and _ateliers_ of artists, who welcomed her sunny presence in their abodes of refinement and taste. They treated her kindly and considerately, and lovingly placed her in her proper sphere; and, by their kind and delicate treatment, made her forget the miseries of her degradation and the agonies of her travail. Then art aided photography and photography aided art, and the happy, delightful reciprocity has brought down showers of golden rain amidst the sunshine of prosperity to thousands who follow with love and devotion the chastened and purified form of Photography, accompanied in all her thoughts and doings by her elder sister--Art. I must apologise for this seeming digression. However, as I have not entirely abandoned my photographic impressions, I take it for granted that I have not presumed too much on the good nature of my readers, and will now endeavour to further develop and redevelop the Hudson, and point out the many phases of beauty that are fit subjects for the camera which may be seen on the waters and highland boundaries of that beautiful river in all seasons of the year. Albany is the capital of the State. It is a large and flourishing city, and one of the oldest, being an early Dutch settlement, which is sufficiently attested by the prevalence of such cognomens as "Vanderdonck" and "Onderdunk" over the doors of the traders. About six or eight miles above Albany the Hudson ceases to be navigable for steamers and sailing craft, and the influence of the tide becomes imperceptible. Troy is on the east bank of the river; and about two miles above, the Mohawk River joins the Hudson, coming down from the Western part of the State of New York. For about two hundred miles the Hudson runs almost due north and south from a little below Fort Edward; but, from the Adirondack Mountains, where it takes its spring, it comes down in a north-westerly direction by rushing rapids, cascades, and falls innumerable for about two hundred miles more through some of the wildest country that can possibly be imagined. We did not proceed up the Upper Hudson, but I was told it would well repay a trip with the camera, as some of the wildest and most picturesque scenery would be found in tracking the Hudson to its source among the Adirondack Mountains. I afterwards sailed up and down the navigable part of the Hudson many times and at all periods of the year, except when it was ice-bound, by daylight and by moonlight, and a more beautiful moonlight sail cannot possibly be conceived. To be sailing up under the shadow of the Palisades on a bright moonlight night, and see the eastern shore and bays bathed in the magnesium-like light of a bright western moon, is in itself enough to inspire the most ordinary mind with a love of all that is beautiful and poetical in nature. Moonlight excursions are frequently made from New York to various points on the Hudson, and Sleepy Hollow is one of the most favourite trips. I have been in that neighbourhood, but never saw the "headless horseman" that was said to haunt the place; but that may be accounted for by the circumstance of some superior officer having recently commanded the trooper without a head to do duty in Texas. My next trip up the Hudson was in winter, when the surface of the river was in the state of "glacial," solid at 50° for two or three feet down, but the temperature was considerably lower, frequently 15° and 20° below zero--and that was nipping cold "and no mistake," making the very breath "glacial," plugging up the nostrils with "chunks" of ice, and binding the beard and moustache together, making a glacier on your face, which you had to break through every now and then to make a breathing hole. On this arctic trip the whole aspect of the river and its boundaries is marvellously changed, without losing any of its picturesque attractions. Instead of the clear, deep river having its glassy surface broken by the splash of paddle-wheels, it is converted into a solid highway. Instead of the sound of the "pilot's gong," and the cries of "a sail on the port bow," there is nothing to be heard but the jingling sound of the sleigh bells, and the merry laugh and prattle of the fair occupants of the sleighs, as they skim past on the smooth surface of the ice, wrapped cosily up in their gay buffalo robes. The great excitement of winter in Canada or the States is to take a sleigh ride; and I think there is nothing more delightful, when the wind is still, than to skim along the ice in the bright, winter sunshine, behind a pair of spanking "trotters." The horses seem to enjoy it as much as the people, arching their necks a little more proudly than usual, and stepping lightly to the merry sound of the sleigh bells. At this time of the year large sleighs, holding fifteen to twenty people, and drawn by four horses, take the place of steamers, omnibuses, and ferry boats. The steam ferries are housed, except at New York, and there they keep grinding their way through the ice "all winter," as if they would not let winter reign over their destinies if they could help it. Large sleighs cross and recross on the ice higher up the Hudson, and thus keep up the connection between the various points and opposite shores. As the mercury falls the spirits of the people seem to rise, and they shout and halloo at each other as they pass or race on the ice. These are animated scenes for the skill of a Blanchard or any other artist equally good in the production of instantaneous photographs. Another of the scenes on the Hudson worthy of the camera is "ploughing the ice." It is a singular sight to an Englishman to see a man driving a team of horses on the ice, and see the white powder rising before the ice-plough like spray from the prow of a vessel as she rushes through the water, cutting the ice into blocks or squares, to stow away in "chunks," and afterwards, when the hot sultry weather of July and August is prostrating you, have them brought out to make those wonderful mixtures called "ice-creams," "sherry-cobblers," and "brandy-cocktails." The Hudson is beautiful in winter as well as in summer, and I wonder its various and picturesque beauties have not been photographed more abundantly. But there it is. Prophets are never honoured in their own country, and artists and photographers never see the beauties of their country at home. I am sure if the Hudson were photographed from the sea to its source it would be one of the most valuable, interesting, and picturesque series of photographs that ever was published. Its aspects in summer are lovely and charming, and the wet process can then be employed with success. And in winter, though the temperature is low, the river is perfectly dry on the surface, the hills and trees are glistening with snow and icicles, the people are on the very happiest terms with one another, and frequently exhibit an abundance of dry, good humour. This is the time to work the "dry process" most successfully, and, instead of the "ammonia developers," try the "hot and strong" ones. With these few hints to my photographic friends, I leave the beauties of the Hudson to their kind consideration.--_British Journal of Photography_, 1865. PICTURES OF THE POTOMAC IN PEACE AND WAR. When first I visited that lovely region which has so recently been torn and trampled down--blackened and defaced by the ruthlessness of war--peace lay in the valleys of the Potomac. Nothing was borne on the calm, clear bosom of the broad and listless river but the produce of the rich and smiling valleys of Virginia. Its banks were peaceful, silent, and beautiful. The peach orchards were white with the blossoms that promised a rich harvest of their delicious fruit. The neat and pretty houses that studded the sloping boundaries of the river were almost blinding with their dazzling whiteness as the full blaze of the sun fell upon them. Their inhabitants were happy, and dreamt not of the storm so soon to overtake them. The forts were occupied by only a few, very few soldiers. The guns were laid aside, all rusty and uncared for; and pilgrims to the tomb of Washington, the good and great, stopped on their return at Fort Washington to examine the fortifications in idleness and peaceful curiosity. The Capitol at Washington echoed nothing but the sounds of peace and good will. The senators of both North and South sat in council together, and considered only the welfare and prosperity of their great confederation. The same harmonious fellowship influenced the appearance and actions of all; and at that happy conjuncture I made my first acquaintance with Washington, the capital of the United States. I shall not attempt a description of its geographical position: everybody knows that it is in the district of Columbia, and on the banks of the Potomac. It is a city of vast and pretentious appearance, straggling over an unnecessary amount of ground, and is divided into avenues and streets. The avenues are named after the principal States, and take their spring from the Capitol, running off in all directions in angular form, like the spokes of a wheel, the Capitol being the "angular point." The streets running between and across the avenues rejoice in the euphonious names of First, Second, and Third, and A, B, and C streets, the straight lines of which are broken by trees of the most luxurious growth all along the side-walks. These trees form a delightful sun-shade in summer, and have a very novel and pleasing effect at night, when their green and leafy arches are illuminated by the gas lamps underneath. Excepting the Capitol, White House, Court House, Post Office, Patent Office, and Smithsonian Institute, there is nothing in the city of photographic interest. The "United States," the "National," and "Willards," are large and commodious hotels on Pennsylvania Avenue; but not worth a plate, photographically speaking, unless the landlords wish to illustrate their bar bills. The Capitol is out of all proportion the largest and most imposing structure in Washington--it may safely be said in the United States. Situated on an elevated site, at the top of Pennsylvania Avenue, it forms a grand termination to that noble thoroughfare at its eastern extremity. The building consists of a grand centre of freestone painted white, surmounted by a vast dome of beautiful proportions. Two large wings of white marble complete the grand façade. Ascending the noble flight of marble steps to the principal entrance, the great portico is reached, which is supported by about eighteen Corinthian columns. The pediment is ornamented with a statue of America in the centre, with the figures of Faith on her left, and Justice on her right. On each side of the entrance is a group of statuary. On one side an Indian savage is about to massacre a mother and her child, but his arm is arrested by the figure of Civilization. On the other side the group consists of a man holding up a globe, representing Columbus and the figure of an Indian girl looking up to it. The large rotunda, immediately underneath the dome, is divided into panels, which are filled with paintings, such as the "Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers," "The Baptism of the Indian Princess Pocahontas," and other subjects illustrative of American history. On either side of the Rotunda are passages leading to the House of Representatives on the one side, and the Senate Chamber on the other. Congress being assembled, I looked in to see the collective wisdom of the "States" during a morning sitting. In many respects the House of Representatives very much resembled our own House of Commons. There was a Mr. Speaker in the chair, and one gentleman had "the floor," and was addressing the House. Other members were seated in their desk seats, making notes, or busying themselves with their own bills. In one essential point, however, I found a difference, and that was in the ease of access to this assembly. No "member's order" was required. Strangers and "citizens" are at all times freely admitted. There is also a magnificent library, which is free to everyone. During the Session there is Divine service in the Senate Chamber on Sunday mornings. On one occasion I attended, and heard a most excellent discourse by the appointed chaplain. The President and his family were there. In some side offices, connected with the Capitol, I found a government photographer at work, copying plans, and photographing portions of the unfinished building, for the benefit of the architects and others whose duty it was to examine the progress of the works. From this gentleman I received much courteous attention, and was shown many large and excellent negatives, all of which were developed with the ordinary iron developer. I next visited the Patent Office, and the museum connected therewith, which contains a vast collection of models of all kinds of inventions that have received protection--among them several things, in apparatus and implements, connected with photography. The American patent laws require a model of every new invention to be lodged in this museum, which is of immense value to inventors and intending patentees; for they can there see what has already been protected; and as the Patent Office refuses to grant protection to anything of a similar form, use, or application, much litigation, expense, and annoyance are saved the patentees. Our Government would do well to take a leaf out of "Brother Jonathan's" book on this subject; for not only is there increased protection given to inventors, but the fees are considerably less than in this country. The presidential residence, called the White House, was the next interesting subject of observation. It is situated at the west end of Pennsylvania Avenue, and a good mile from the Capitol. The building is of white marble, and of very unpretending size and architectural attractions, but in every respect sufficient for the simple wants of the chief magistrate of the United States, whose official salary is only twenty-five thousand dollars per annum. During congressional session the President holds weekly _levées_; and one of these I determined to attend, prompted as much by curiosity to see how such things were done, as desire to pay my respects. Accordingly, on a certain night, at eight o'clock precisely, I went to the White House, and was admitted without hesitation. On reaching the door of the reception room, I gave my card to the district marshal, who conducted me to President Pierce, to whom I was introduced. I was received with a hearty welcome, and a shake of the hand. Indeed, I noticed that he had a kindly word of greeting for all who came. Not having any very important communication to make that would be either startling or interesting to the President of the United States, I bowed, and retired to the promenade room, where I found numbers of people who had been "presented" walking about and chatting in groups on all sorts of subjects--political, foreign, and domestic, and anything they liked. Some were in evening dress, others not; but all seemed perfectly easy and affable one with another. There was no restraint, and the only passport required to these _levées_ was decent behaviour and respectability. There was music also. A band was playing in the vestibule, and everyone evidently enjoyed the _reunion_, and felt perfectly at home. Never having been presented at court, I am not able to make any comparison _pro_ or _con_. There is also an observatory at Washington, which I visited; but not being fortunate enough to meet the--what shall I say? "astronomer-royal," comes readiest, but that is not correct: well, then, the--"astronomer republic," I did not see the large telescope and other astronomical instruments worked. The photographic galleries were all situated on Pennsylvania Avenue, and they were numerous enough. At that time they rejoiced in the name of "Daguerrean Galleries;" and the proprietor, or operator, was called a "Daguerrean." Their reception rooms were designated "saloons," which were invariably well furnished--some of them superbly--and filled with specimens. Their "studios" and workshops behind the scenes were fitted with all sorts of ingenious contrivances for "buffing" and "coating" and expediting the work. Although the greatest number of mechanical appliances were employed in the Daguerreotype branch of photography, art was not altogether ignored in its practice. One house made a business feature of very beautifully coloured Daguerreotypes, tinted with dry colours, quite equal to those done in Europe. Another house made a feature of "Daguerreotypes painted in oil;" and the likeness was most admirably preserved. I saw one of the President, and several of the members of Congress, which I knew to be unmistakable portraits. Although the Daguerreotype was most tenaciously adhered to as the best means of producing photographic portraits, the collodion process--or the "crystaltype," as they then called it--was not neglected. It was used by a few for portraits, but chiefly for views. Having seen all that was worth seeing in the city, I made excursions into the country, in search of subjects for the camera or pencil. Georgetown, a little way from Washington, and its picturesque cemetery, offer several pretty bits for the camera. Arlington Heights, the Long Bridge, and many nooks about there, are sufficiently tempting; but of all the excursions about Washington, Mount Vernon--a few miles down the Potomac, on the Virginia side--is by far the most interesting. Mount Vernon is the name of the place where General George Washington lived and died, and is the "Mecca" of the Americans. Nearly every day there are pilgrims from some or all parts of the States to the tomb of Washington, which is in the grounds of Mount Vernon. They visit this place with a kind of religious awe and veneration, and come from far and wide to say they have seen it. For, in truth, there is little to see but the strangest-looking and ugliest brick building I ever beheld, with open iron gates that allow you to look into the darkness of the interior, and see nothing. I took a view of the tomb, and here it is:--A red brick building, squat and low, of the most unsightly design and proportions imaginable--resembling one of our country "deadhouses" more than anything else I could compare it to. It was stuck away from the house among trees and brushwood, and in an advanced state of dilapidation--a disgrace to the nation that had sprung from that great man's honest devotion! Over the Gothic entrance is a white slab, with the following inscription on it:-- "Within this Enclosure Rest the remains of General George Washington." The remains of "Lady Washington" lie there also; and there are several white obelisks about to the memory of other members of the family. The house itself is a "frame building" of two storeys, with a piazza running along the front of it, and is on the whole a mean-looking edifice; but was probably grand enough for the simple tastes of the man who dwelt in it, and has hallowed the place with the greatness and goodness of his life. The interior of the house looked as if it had once been a comfortable and cozy habitation. In the hall was put up a desk, with a "visitors' book," wherein they were expected to enter their names; and few failed to pay such a cheap tribute to the memory of the father of their country. The grounds, which were full of natural beauties, had been allowed to run into a state of wild tangle-wood; and I had some trouble to pick my way over broken paths down to the riverside again, where I took the "boat," and returned to the city, touching at Fort Washington on the way. The day had been remarkably fine; the evening was calm and lovely; the silence of the river disturbed only by the splash of our paddles, and the song of the fishermen on shore as they drew in their laden nets; and the moon shone as only she can shine in those latitudes. Nothing could denote more peace and quietude as I sailed on the Potomac on that lovely evening. There was such a perfect lull of the natural elements--such a happy combination of all that was beautiful and promising--it seemed impossible for such a hurricane of men's passions--such yells of strife and shouts of victory, such a swoop of death as afterwards rushed down those valleys--ever to come to pass. Such sad reverse was, however, seen on my second visit to the Potomac. The narration of the stirring scenes then presented will form a picture less peaceful and happy, but unfortunately intensely real and painfully true. My second visit to the Potomac was paid after the lapse of several years, and under very different circumstances. When the Capitol echoed loudly the fierce and deadly sentiments of the men of the North against the men of the South. When both had shouted-- "Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war Plead for our int'rest." When the deliberations of the senators were "war estimates," arming of troops, and hurrying them to the "front" with all possible despatch. When the city of Washington presented all the appearance of a place threatened with a siege. When every unoccupied building was turned into barracks, and every piece of unoccupied land was made a "camp ground." When the inhabitants were in terror and dismay, dreading the approach of an invading host. When hasty earth-works were thrown up in front of the city, and the heights were bristling with cannon. When the woods and peach orchards on the opposite side of the Potomac were red with the glare of the camp fires at night, and the flashing of bayonets was almost blinding in the hot sun at noon. When the vessels sailing on the river were laden with armed men, shot, shell, and "villainous saltpetre." When the incessant roll of drums and rattle of musketry deadened almost every other sound. When sentinels guarded every road and access to the capital, and passports were required from the military authorities to enable you to move from one place to another. In short, when the whole atmosphere was filled with sounds of martial strife, and everything took the form of desolating war. In spite of all these untoward events, I found photography actively engaged in the city, in the camp, and on the field, fulfilling a mission of mercy and consolation in the midst of carnage and tumult--fulfilling such a mission of holy work as never before fell to the lot of any art or art-science to perform. For what aspect of life is photography not called upon to witness?--what phase of this world's weal or woe is photography not required to depict? Photography has become a handmaiden to the present generation--a ministering angel to all conditions of life, from the cradle to the grave. An _aide-de-camp_ of the loveliest character to the great "light of the world," humanizing and elevating the minds of all, administering consolation to the sorrowing, increasing the joy of the joyous, lessening the pangs of separation caused by distance or death, strengthening the ties of immediate fellowship, helping the world to know its benefactors, and the world's benefactors to know the world. When grim death stalks into the gilded palaces of the great and powerful, or into the thatched cottages and miserable dwellings of the poor, photography is the assuager of the griefs of the sorrowing survivors, and the ameliorator of their miseries, by preserving to them so faithful a resemblance of the lost one. When the bride, in her youth and loveliness, is attired for the bridal, photography is the recorder of her trustful looks and April smiles, the fashion of her dress, the wreath and jewels that she wore; and, come what change in her appearance that may, the husband can look upon his bride whene'er he likes in after years, as vividly and as distinctly as on that day, connecting the present with the past with a kind of running chord of happy recollections. Photography is now the historian of earth and animated nature, the biographer of man, the registrar of his growth from childhood to "man's estate," the delineator of his physical, moral, and social progress, the book of fashion, and the mirror of the times. The uses and applications of photography are almost indescribable; scarcely an art, or a science, or a trade or profession that does not enlist photography into its service. Photography does not merely pander to the gratification of earthly vanity, but is an alleviator of human misery. Photography enters our hospitals and registers faithfully the progress of disease, its growth and change from day to day, until it is cured, or ripe for the knife of the surgeon; its pictures are lessons to the professor, and a book of study for the students, charts for their guidance through the painful and tedious cases of others similarly afflicted, teaching them what to do and what to avoid, to relieve the suffering of other patients. Photography is dragged into our criminal law courts, and sits on the right hand of Justice, giving evidence of the most undeniable character, without being under oath, and free from the suspicion of perjury, convicting murderers and felons, and acquitting the innocent without prejudice; and in our courts of equity, cases are frequently decided by the truth-telling evidence of photography. Astronomers, geographers, and electricians freely acknowledge how much they are indebted to photography in making their celestial and terrestrial observations. Engineers, civil and military, employ photography largely in their plans and studies. Art, also, has recourse to photography, and is the only one of the liberal professions that is half ashamed to admit the aid it gains from the camera. If art admits it at all, it is done grudgingly, apologetically, and thanklessly. But there it is the old, old story of family quarrels and family jealousies. Old art might be likened to an old aunt that has grown withered and wrinkled, and peevish with disappointment, who, in spite of all her long-studied rules and principles of light and shade, harmony of colour, painting, "glazing," and "scumbling," has failed to win the first prize--that prize which a woman's ambition pants after from the moment she enters her teens until her dream is realized--that living model, moulded after God's own image, which, not having won in her mature age, she becomes jealous of the growing graces, the fresh and rollicking charms, the unstudied and ingenuous truthfulness of form exhibited by her niece. Old Art the aunt, Photography the niece. Readers, draw the moral for yourselves. I have digressed, but could not help it. Photography is so young and lovely, so bewitchingly beautiful in all her moods, so fascinating and enslaving--and she has enslaved thousands since she first sprung from the source that gives her life. But to return to my theme. The practice of photography, like the aspects of the country and condition of the people, was changed. "Old things had passed away, and all things had become new." The shining silver plates, buffing wheels, coating boxes, mercury pans, &c., of the old dispensation had given place to the baths, nitrate of silver solutions, and iron developers of the new. Ambrotypes, or glass positives, and photographs on paper, had taken the place of the now antiquated Daguerreotype. Mammoth photographs were the ambition of all photographers. The first full-length life-sized photograph I ever saw was in Washington, and was the work of Mr. Gardner, the manager of Mr. Brady's gallery. But a more republican idea of photography, which, strange to say, originated in an empire not remarkable for freedom of thought, soon became the dominant power. Cartes-de-visite, the many, ruled over mammoth, the few. The price of mammoth photographs was beyond the reach of millions, but the prices of cartes-de-visite were within the grasp of all; and that, combined with their convenient size and prettiness of form, made them at once popular, and created a mania. The carte-de-visite form of picture became the "rage" in America about the time the civil war commenced, and as the young soldiers were proud of their new uniforms, and those who had been "in action" were prouder still of their stains and scars, the photographers did a good business among them, both in the city and in the camp. I saw a little of this "camp work" and "camp life" myself, and some of the havoc of war as well. Photographers are adventurous, and frequently getting into odd kinds of "positions," as well as their "sitters." It was my destiny, under the guidance of the Great Source of Light, to witness the results of the first great conflict between the opposing armies of the Federals and Confederates; to hear the thunder of their artillery, and see the clouds of smoke hovering over the battle field, without being in the battle itself. To see the rout and panic of the Northern troops, who had so recently marched proudly on to fancied victory; to witness the disgraceful and disastrous stampede of the Northern army from the field of Bull Run; to listen to the agonized groans of the "severely wounded" as they were hurried past to the temporary hospitals in Washington and Georgetown; to be an eye-witness to the demoralized condition of men who, naturally brave, were under the influence of a panic caused by the vague apprehension of a danger that did not exist; to hear the citizens exclaim, "What shall we do?" and "For God's sake don't tell your people at home what you have seen!" and comparing the reverse of their national arms to a "regular Waterloo defeat," which was anything but a happy simile. To see the panic-stricken men themselves, when they discovered their error, and began to realize their shame, weeping like women at the folly they had committed. But they atoned for all this, afterwards, by deeds of glorious valour which were never surpassed, and which ended in restoring their country to peace and reunion. The 21st of July, 1861, was a Sunday, and as calm and beautiful a day as could be wished for. From its associations it ought to have been a day of rest and peace to all; but it was not. There was terrible slaughter among men that Sunday in Virginia. During the morning, I took advantage of an opportunity offered me to go down to Alexandria, in Virginia, about five or six miles below Washington, which was then occupied by a portion of the Federal Army. Everything in the place had the appearance of war. There were more soldiers than civilians about. Hotels were turned into barracks and military storehouses. The hotel where Colonel Ellsworth, of the New York Fire Zouaves, was shot by the proprietor for hauling down the Confederate flag--which the latter had hoisted over his house--had been taken possession of by the military authorities, and the whole place was under martial law. It was there I first heard rumours of a battle being fought in the neighbourhood of Manassas Junction. These rumours were soon confirmed by the roar of cannon in the distance, and the hurrying of fresh troops from Washington to the field of battle. But they were not needed. Before they could reach the field the "stampede" had commenced, and the retreating hosts came like a rushing tide upon the advancing few, and carried them back, absorbed in the unshapen mass of confusion. The night came, and little was known by the inhabitants of Washington of the rout and rush of terrified men towards the city; but the next morning revealed the fact. Wet and wretched was the morning after the battle. The heavens seemed to weep over the disgrace as the men poured into the city, singly and in groups, unofficered, and without their firearms, which many had lost, or thrown away in their flight. The citizens gathered round them, anxious to learn all about the defeat, and the whereabouts of the Confederate army, and invited them into their houses to take refreshment and rest. Several instances of this impromptu hospitality and sympathy I witnessed myself; and many of the weary and wounded soldiers I talked to. They that were only slightly wounded in the hands and arms had their wounds washed and dressed by the wives and daughters of many of the residents. The hotels were crowded, and the "bars" were besieged by the drenched and fatigued soldiers, whom the curious and sympathizing citizens invited to "liquor." The men all told wonderful stories of the fight and of their own escape, but none could tell satisfactorily what had created the panic. Some said that a few "teamsters" took the alarm, and, riding to the rear in hot haste, conveyed the impression that an exterminating pursuit by the Confederates had commenced. In a day or two the majority of the men were mustered together again, and occupied their old camping grounds, where I visited them, and heard many of their stories, and got some of the relics of the battle field. Fresh troops were raised, and placed under the command of another general. But it was long before another "onward march to Richmond" was attempted. The North had learned something of the strength and prowess of the South, and began to prepare for a longer and fiercer struggle with "Secession." Such are the two pictures of the Potomac which I have endeavoured to reproduce, and which fell under my observation during my professional peregrinations in connection with the practice of photography. RAMBLES AMONG THE STUDIOS OF AMERICA. Boston. My impressions of America, from a photographic point of observation, were taken at two distinct periods--which I might call the two epochs of photographic history--the dry and the wet; the first being the Daguerreotype, and the second what may be termed the present era of photography, which includes the processes now known and practised. I take Boston as my starting point for several reasons. First, because it was the first American city I visited; secondly, it was in Boston that the change first came over photography which wrought such a revolution in the art all over the United States; thirdly and severally, in Boston I noticed many things in connection with photography which differed widely from what I had known and practised in England. Visiting the gallery of Mr. Whipple, then in Washington Street, the busiest thoroughfare in Boston, I was struck with the very large collection of Daguerreotype portraits there exhibited, but particularly with a large display of Daguerreotypes of the moon in various aspects. I had heard of Mr. Whipple's success in Daguerreotyping the moon before I left Europe, but had no idea that so much had been achieved in lunar photography at that early date until I saw Mr. Whipple's case of photographs of the moon in many phases. Those Daguerreotypes were remarkable for their sharpness and delicacy, and the many trying conditions under which they were taken. They were all obtained at Cambridge College under the superintendance of Professor Bond, but in what manner I had better allow Mr. Whipple to speak for himself, by making an extract from a letter of his, published in _The Photographic Art Journal_ of America, July, 1853. Mr. Whipple says: "My first attempt at Daguerreotyping the moon was with a reflecting telescope; the mirror was five feet focus, and seven inches diameter. By putting the prepared plate directly in the focus of the reflector, and giving it an exposure of from three to five seconds, I obtained quite distinct impressions; but owing to the smallness of the image, which was only about five-eighths of an inch in diameter, and the want of clockwork to regulate the motion of the telescope, the results were very far from satisfactory. "Having obtained permission of Professor Bond to use the large Cambridge reflector for that purpose, I renewed my experiments with high hopes of success, but soon found it no easy matter to obtain a clear, well-defined, beautiful Daguerreotype of the moon. Nothing could be more interesting than its appearance through that _magnificent_ instrument: but to transfer it to the silver plate, to make something tangible of it, was quite a different thing. The "governor," that regulates the motion of the telescope, although sufficiently accurate for observing purposes, was entirely unsuitable for Daguerreotyping; as when the plate is exposed to the moon's image, if the instrument does not follow exactly to counteract the earth's motion, even to the nicety of a hair's breadth, the beauty of the impression is much injured, or entirely spoiled. The governor had a tendency to move the instrument a little too fast, then to fall slightly behind. By closely noticing its motion, and by exposing my plates those few seconds that it exactly followed between the accelerated and retarded motion, I might obtain one or two perfect proofs in the trial of a dozen plates, other things being right. But a more serious obstacle to my success was the usual state of the atmosphere in the locality--the sea breeze, the hot and cold air commingling, although its effects were not visible to the eye; but when the moon was viewed through the telescope it had the same appearance as objects when seen through the heated air from a chimney, in a constant tremor, precluding the possibility of successful Daguerreotyping. This state of the atmosphere often continued week after week in a greater or less degree, so that an evening of perfect quiet was hailed with the greatest delight. After oft-repeated failures, I finally obtained the Daguerreotype from which the crystallotypes I send for your journal were copies; it was taken in March, 1851. The object glass only of the telescope was used. It is fifteen inches in diameter, and about twenty-three feet focal length; the image it gives of the moon varies but little from three inches, and the prepared plate had an exposure of thirteen seconds." Copies of several of these "crystallotypes" of the moon I afterwards obtained and exhibited at the Photographic Exhibition in connection with the British Association which met in Glasgow in 1855. The "crystallotypes" were simply enlarged photographs, about eight or nine inches in diameter, and conveyed to the mind an excellent idea of the moon's surface. The orange-like form and the principal craters were distinctly marked. Indeed, so much were they admired as portraits of the moon, that one of the _savans_ bought the set at the close of the exhibition. Mr. Whipple is still a successful practitioner of our delightful art in the "Athens of the Western World," and has reaped the reward of his continuity and devotion to his favourite art. The late decision of the American law courts on the validity of Mr. Cutting's patent for the use of bromides in collodion must have laid Mr. Whipple under serious liabilities, for he used bromo-iodized negative collodion for iron development as far back as 1853. There were many other professional photographers in the chief city of Massachusetts; but I have described the characteristics of the principal and oldest concerns. Doubtless there are many new ones since I visited the city where Benjamin Franklin served his apprenticeship as a printer; where the "colonists" in 1773, rather than pay the obnoxious "tea tax," pitched all the tea out of the ships into the waters of Boston Bay, and commenced that long struggle against oppression and unjust taxation which eventually ended in severing the North American Colonies from the mother country. With the knowledge of all this, it is the more surprising that they should now so quietly submit to what must be an obnoxious and troublesome system of taxation; for, not only have photographers to pay an annual licence of about two guineas for carrying on their trade, but also to affix a government stamp on each picture sent out, which is a further tax of about one penny on each. Surely the patience of our brother photographers on the other side of the Atlantic must be sorely tried, what with the troubles of their business, the whims and eccentricities of their sitters, Mr. Cutting's unkind cut, and the prowling visitations of the tax-collector. New York. What a wonderful place New York is for photographic galleries! Their number is legion, and their size is mammoth. Everything is "mammoth." Their "saloons" are mammoth. Their "skylights" are mammoth. Their "tubes," or lenses, are mammoth. Their "boxes," or cameras, are mammoth; and _mammoth_ is the amount of business that is done in some of those "galleries." The "stores" of the dealers in photographic "stock" are mammoth; and the most mammoth of all is the "store" of Messrs. E. & H. T. Anthony, on Broadway. This establishment is one of the many palaces of commerce on that splendid thoroughfare. The building is of iron, tall and graceful, of the Corinthian order, with Corinthian pilasters, pillars, and capitals. It is five storeys high, with a frontage of about thirty feet, and a depth of two hundred feet, running right through the "block" from Broadway to the next street on the west side of it. This is the largest store of the kind in New York; I think I may safely say, in either of the two continents, east or west, containing a stock of all sorts of photographic goods, from "sixpenny slides" to "mammoth tubes," varying in aggregate value from one hundred and fifty thousand to two hundred thousand dollars. The heads of the firm are most enterprising, one taking the direction of the commercial department, and the other the scientific and experimental. Nearly all novelties in apparatus and photographic requisites pass through this house into the hands of our American _confrères_ of the camera, and not unfrequently find their way to the realms of Queen Victoria on both sides of the Atlantic. When the carte-de-visite pictures were introduced, the oldest and largest houses held aloof from them, and only reluctantly, and under pressure, took hold of them at last. Why, it is difficult to say, unless their very small size was too violent a contrast to the mammoth pictures they were accustomed to handle. Messrs. Rockwood and Co., of Broadway, were the first to make a great feature of the carte-de-visite in New York. They also introduced the "Funnygraph," but the latter had a very short life. In the Daguerreotype days there was a "portrait factory" on Broadway, where likenesses were turned out as fast as coining, for the small charge of twenty-five cents a head. The arrangements for such rapid work were very complete. I had a dollar's worth of these "factory" portraits. At the desk I paid my money, and received four tickets, which entitled me to as many sittings when my turn came. I was shown into a waiting room crowded with people. The customers were seated on forms placed round the room, sidling their way to the entrance of the operating room, and answering the cry of "the next" in much the same manner that people do at our public baths. I being "the next," at last went into the operating room, where I found the operator stationed at the camera, which he never left all day long, except occasionally to adjust a stupid sitter. He told the next to "Sit down" and "Look thar," focussed, and, putting his hand into a hole in the wall which communicated with the "coating room," he found a dark slide ready filled with a sensitised plate, and putting it into the camera, "exposed," and saying "That will dew," took the dark slide out of the camera, and shoved it through another hole in the wall communicating with the mercury or developing room. This was repeated as many times as I wanted sittings, which he knew by the number of tickets I had given to a boy in the room, whose duty it was to look out for "the next," and collect the tickets. The operator had nothing to do with the preparation of the plates, developing, fixing, or finishing of the picture. He was responsible only for the "pose" and "time," the "developer," checking and correcting the latter occasionally by crying out "Short" or "Long" as the case might be. Having had my number of "sittings," I was requested to leave the operating room by another door which opened into a passage that led me to the "delivery desk," where, in a few minutes, I got all my four portraits fitted up in "matt, glass, and preserver,"--the pictures having been passed from the developing room to the "gilding" room, thence to the "fitting room" and the "delivery desk," where I received them. Thus they were all finished and carried away without the camera operator ever having seen them. Three of the four portraits were as fine Daguerreotypes as could be produced anywhere. Ambrotypes, or "Daguerreotypes on glass" as some called them, were afterwards produced in much the same manufacturing manner. There were many other galleries on Broadway: Canal Street; the Bowery; the Avenues, 1, 2, and 3; A, B, and C, Water Street; Hudson Street, by the shipping, &c., the proprietors of which conducted their business in the style most suited to their "location" and the class of customers they had to deal with; but in no case was there any attempt at that "old clothesman"--that "Petticoat Lane"--style of touting and dragging customers in by the collar. All sorts of legitimate modes of advertising were resorted to--flags flying out of windows and from the roofs of houses; handsome show cases at the doors; glowing advertisements in the newspapers, in prose and verse; circulars freely distributed among the hotels, &c.; but none of that "have your picture taken," annoying, and disreputable style adopted by the cheap and common establishments in London. Unhappily, "Sunday trading" is practised more extensively in New York than in London. Nearly all but the most respectable galleries are open on Sundays, and evidently do a thriving trade. The authorities endeavoured to stop it frequently, by summoning parties and inflicting fines, but it was no use. The fines were paid, and Sunday photography continued. The "glass houses" of America differ entirely from what we understand by the name here; indeed, I never saw such a thing there, either by chance, accident, or design--for chance has no "glass houses" in America, only an agency; there are no accidental glass houses, and the operating rooms built by design are not "glass houses" at all. The majority of the houses in New York and other American cities are built with nearly flat roofs, and many of them with lessening storeys from front to back, resembling a flight of two or three steps. In one of these roofs, according to circumstances, a large "skylight" is fixed, and pitched usually at an angle of 45°, and the rooms, as a rule, are large enough to allow the sitter to be placed anywhere within the radius of the light, so that any effect or any view of the face can easily be obtained. The light is not any more actinic there than here in good weather, but they have a very great deal more light of a good quality _all the year round_ than we have. The operators work generally with a highly bromized collodion, which, as a rule, they make themselves, but not throughout. They buy the gun-cotton of some good maker--Mr. Tomlinson, agent for Mr. Cutting, generally supplied the best--then dissolve, iodize, and bromize to suit their working. Pyrogallic acid as an intensifier is very little used by the American operators, so little that it is not kept in stock by the dealers. Requiring some once, I had quite a hunt for it, but found some at last, stowed away as "Not Wanted," in Messrs. Anthony's store. The general intensifier is what they laconically call "sulph.," which is sulphuret of potassium in a very dilute solution, either flowed over the plate, or the plate is immersed in a dipping bath, after fixing, which is by far the _pleasantest_ way to employ the "sulph. solution." Throwing it about as some of them do is anything but agreeable. In such cases, "sulph." was the first thing that saluted my olfactories on putting my head inside one of their "dark rooms." Up to 1860 the American photographic prints were all on plain paper, and obtained by the ammonia nitrate of silver bath, and toned and fixed with the hyposulphite of soda and gold. The introduction of the cartes-de-visite forced the operators to make use of albumenized paper; but even then they seemed determined to adhere to the ammonia process if possible, for they commenced all sorts of experiments with that volatile accelerator, both wet and dry, some by adding ammonia and ether to an 80-grain silver bath, others by fuming, and toning with an acetate and gold bath, and fixing with hypo afterwards. With the following "musings" on "wrappers" (not "spirit wrappers," nor railway wrappers, but "carte-de-visite wrappers"), I shall conclude my rambles among the galleries of New York. Wrappers generally afford an excellent opportunity for ornamental display. Many of the wrappers of our magazines are elegantly and artistically ornamented. Nearly every pack of playing cards is done up in a beautiful wrapper. The French have given their attention to the subject of "carte-de-visite wrappers," and turned out a few unique patterns, which, however, never came much into use in this country. The Americans, more alive to fanciful and tasteful objects of ornamentation, and close imitators of the French in these matters, have made more use of carte-de-visite wrappers than we have. Many wrappers of an artistic and literary character are used by the photographers in America--some with ornamental designs; some with the address of the houses tastefully executed; others with poetical effusions, in which the cartes-de-visite are neatly wrapped up, and handed over to the sitter. Surely a useful suggestion is here given, for wrappers are useful things in their way, and, if made up tastefully, would attract attention to the photographic establishments that issue them. Photography is so closely allied to art that it is desirable to have everything in connection with it of an elegant and artistic description. The plain paper envelopes--gummed up at the ends, and difficult to get open again--are very inartistic, and anything but suitable to envelop such pretty little pictures as cartes-de-visite. Let photography encourage art and art manufactures, and art will enter into a treaty of reciprocity for their mutual advancement.--_Photographic News_, 1865. TO DUBLIN AND BACK, WITH A GLANCE AT THE EXHIBITION. The bell rings; a shrill shriek; puff, puff goes the engine, and we dart away from the station at Euston Square, provided with a return ticket to Dublin, issued by the London and North Western Railway, available for one month, for the very reasonable charge of £3, first-class and cabin; £2 7s. 6d. second class and cabin; or forty shillings third class and steerage, via Holyhead. These charges include steamboat fare and steward's fee. The Exhibition Committee have made arrangements with the railway companies to run excursion trains once a fortnight at still lower rates; twenty-one shillings from London to Dublin and back, and from other places in proportion. This ticket will be good for a fortnight, and will entitle the holder to another ticket, giving him two admissions to the Exhibition for one shilling. With the ordinary monthly ticket, which is issued daily, it is quite optional whether you go by the morning or evening train; but by all means take the morning train, so that you may pass through North Wales and the Island of Anglesea in daylight. Passing through England by Rugby, Stafford, Crewe, and Chester, nothing remarkable occurs during our rapid run through that part of the country. But an "Irish Gentleman," a fellow traveller, learning our destination, kindly volunteered to enlighten us how we could best see Dublin and its lions in the shortest possible time, and advised us by all "manes" not to "lave" Dublin without seeing "Faynix Park," and taking a car drive to Howth and other places round the "Bee of Dublin." Accordingly we agreed to take his advice; but as our primary object in visiting Dublin is to see the Exhibition, we will first attend to that on our arrival in the Irish capital; and if, after that, time will permit, the extraneous lions will receive our attention. First of all, we must describe how we got there, what we saw on the way, and what were our impressions on entering Dublin Bay. As we said before, nothing particular occurred during our journey through England to excite our attention or curiosity; but on passing into Wales--Flintshire--our attention is at once arrested by the difference of the scenery through which we pass. Soon after leaving Chester, we get a sight of the river Dee on our right, and continue to run down by its side past Flint, Bagillt, Holywell, and Mostyn, then we take a bend to the left and skirt a part of the Irish Channel past Rhyl, Abergele, and Colwyn to Conway, with its extensive ruins of a once vast and noble castle, through, under, and about the ruins of which the double lines of iron rails twist and twine and sinuously encoil themselves like a boa constrictor of civilization and demolisher of wrecks, ruins, and vestiges of the feudal ages and semi-barbarism. Our iron charger dashes up to the very walls of the ancient stronghold, close past the base of a tower, and right under the hanging ruins of another, which is in truth a "baseless fabric," but no "vision," for there it is suspended in mid air, a fabric without a base, holding on to its surroundings by the cohesive power of their early attachments. We rush into the very bowels of the keep itself, snorting and puffing defiance to the memoried sternness of the grim warriors who once held the place against all intruders. Anyone who has not had an opportunity before of visiting North Wales should keep a sharp look-out right and left, and they will get a peep at most of the principal places on the route: the Welsh mountains on the left, their summits illuminated by the sun sinking towards the west, and the mass of them thrown into shadow in fine contrast. Now we are at Penmænmawr, that pretty little watering place, with its neat-looking houses snugly nestling in the laps of the hills, and we pass along so close to the sea, we can feel the spray from the waves as they break on the shore. Passing Llanfairfechan and Aber we are at Bangor, and almost immediately afterwards make a dive into the long, dark chamber of the Tubular Bridge, with a shriek and rumbling rattle that is almost startling. In a few seconds we are out into the daylight again, and get a view of the Straits of Menai; and on the right-hand side, looking back, get an excellent sight of the Tubular Bridge. At the moment of our passing, a ship in full sail was running before the wind through the Straits, which added considerably to the picturesque beauty of the scene. On the left a fine view of the "Suspension Bridge" is obtained. We are soon past Llanfair, and across that bleak and desolate part of the island of Anglesea between the Menai Straits and the Valley. Arriving at Holyhead, we go on board the steamer which is to carry us across the Channel to Dublin. The boat not starting immediately, but giving us a little time to look around, we go on shore again, and saunter up and down the narrow hilly streets of Holyhead, listening in vain for the sound of a word spoken in our mother tongue. Not a word could we hear, not a word of English could we get without asking for it. The most of the people can speak English with a foreign-like accent, but you seldom hear it unless you address them in English. Even the urchins in the streets carry on their games and play in the Welsh and unintelligible sounds resembling language. We also had time to examine the stupendous breakwater which the Government is building at Holyhead to form a harbour of refuge. The wall is a mile and three-quarters in length, and of immense thickness, in the form of three terraces, the highest towards the sea. At one place we noticed that the solid slatey rocks were hewn and dressed into shape, and thus formed part of the wall itself, a mixture of Nature's handiwork and the work of man. Time to go on board again, and as the wind was blowing rather strong, we expected to have a rough voyage of it; and sure enough we had, for we were scarcely clear of the sheltering kindliness of the sea wall and the "north stack" till our vessel began to "pitch and toss," and roll and creak, and groan in agony; and so highly sympathetic were we that we did the same, and could not help it, do what we could. Strong tea, brandy and water, were all no use. Down we went, like prostrate sinners as we were, on our knees, with clasped hands, praying for the winds and the waves "to be still;" but they did not heed our prayer in the least, and kept up their inhumane howling, dancing, and jumbling until, by the time we reached the middle of the Channel, we began to think that the captain had lost his course, and that we were somewhere between Holyhead and purgatory, if not in purgatory itself, being purged of our sins, and becoming internally pure and externally foul. But we discovered that we, and not the captain, had lost the course and the even tenour of our way, for we fancied--perhaps it was only fancy--that we could hear him humming snatches of old song, among them "Oh! steer my bark to Erin's Isle!" and soon the mountains of Wicklow are in sight. As we near, and get under the lee of the land--for it was a stiff "sou'-wester" that bothered us--our sensations and feelings begin to improve, and we pick ourselves up out of the mire, and turn our eyes eagerly and hopefully towards the Emerald Isle, and Dublin Bay more particularly. As we approach the Bay, the Carlingford Hills can be seen on the right, and a little more southwards Lambay and Ireland's Eye. The latter island is rugged and precipitous, seaward, in the extreme--a barren and desolate-looking spot, possessing an unenviable notoriety on account of the murder of a lady by her husband having been committed there a few years ago: Howth, the light-house, and the Bailey Rock, where the _Queen Victoria_ steamer was wrecked, now attract our attention. And, as nearly as we can remember, these are the most striking features on the north side of the Bay. On the south the Harbour of Kingstown is distinctly visible, and we saw the mail steamer which crosses from Holyhead to Kingstown, a distance of sixty miles, in three and a half hours, blowing off her steam. By paying a little extra you can cross in the mail steamers, if you wish, but it is not worth while paying the difference, as the ordinary steamers cross from Holyhead to Dublin in about five and a half hours. All round the south side of the Bay we could trace the Kingstown and Dublin railway, which is the oldest line but one in the United Queendoms of Great Britain and Ireland. An obelisk commemorates the visit of the last of the four Georges to Ireland in 1821. Right over Kingstown the Killinny Hills are to be seen, and all along the water-line the Bay is studded with pretty little villas, and the scene is truly beautiful. If possible, arrange your entrance into the Bay of Dublin in the early morning, for then the sun, rising in the east, lights up the subjects to the very best advantage, and throws a charm about them which they do not exhibit at any other time of the day. By waiting at Holyhead for the early morning boat you can easily manage this. But now we are at the North Wall, and on landing are besieged by Carmen to have a "rowl," and jumping on to one of those light, odd-looking, jaunting cars which are one of the institutions of the country, we are "rowled" up the North Wall for nearly a mile, past the Docks, over the drawbridges, and past the Custom House--a large stone building, too large for the business of the port--along Carlisle Bridge, down Westmoreland Street, past the Bank of Ireland--once the Houses of Parliament--and up Dame Street, leaving the College on our left, and passing King William's statue, representing a mounted Roman with _gilded_ laurels and ornamental toga, we arrive at Jury's Hotel, a commercial and family house of superior arrangements which was well recommended to us before we left London; and here we rest. After breakfast, and having made ourselves internally and externally comfortable, we start for the Exhibition, which is within easy walking distance of the hotel; but the car fares are so very moderate that we prefer a "rowl." The fare is sixpence a "set down;" that is, you may ride from one end of the city to the other for sixpence, but if you get off to post a letter, or buy an umbrella to keep the rain off--for the cars have no covering--that is a "set down;" and so every time you get down and get up again you have sixpence to pay, no matter how short the distance you are taken each time. So we hailed a car at the door of the hotel, determined to be "rowled" to the Exhibition for sixpence each. We go down Dame Street, across College Green, up Grafton Street, along the west and south sides of St. Stephen's Green or Square to Earlsfort Terrace and the principal entrance to the Dublin Exhibition, which occupies the site of what was formerly Coburg Gardens. Arriving at the entrance-hall, we pay our admission fee, and on passing the registering turnstiles we are at once in the sculpture hall on the ground floor, the contents of which we shall notice more particularly by-and-by. Passing through the Sculpture Hall we are within the western transept, or winter garden portion of the Exhibition. This transept is 500 feet long and of lofty proportions, with galleries on each side, and tastefully hung with the banners and flags of the nations exhibiting. The northern court is about 300 feet long, also of iron and glass, with galleries running round both sides similar to the western transept. The ground floor and part of the galleries of the northern court are devoted to the productions of the United Kingdom. On the north side of the northern court is the machinery department, both at rest and in motion. Here machines of the most delicate and ponderous nature are at work. There a forge-hammer daintily cracking nuts, or coming down with a crushing force at the will of the attendant. In another place a delicate curving-machine is at work; and another can be seen making steel pens. There are high pressure engines, sewing machines, and photographic rolling-presses. Indeed, there is almost everything to be seen and everything going on that is instructive, edifying, and amusing. The Exhibition building is small, but well arranged and compact, and partakes of the character of an art and industrial exhibition and place of amusement and recreation, like our Crystal Palace at Sydenham, with ornamental gardens and archery grounds attached. The gardens are small--a little larger than the area of the building itself--but most tastefully laid out. And there are fountains and grottoes, and rockeries and cascades, with flowers growing about them, which give the whole place a pleasant, healthy, and delightful appearance. Stepping out of the western transept into the gardens, we found the band of the 78th Highlanders playing in the centre, and their pipers walking about the grounds ready to take up the strains of music in another key, for presently we saw them marching about, playing "Hielan' Skirls," and sounding the loud pibroch, with a five-bag power that was more stunning than the nocturnal wailings of a dozen or two Kilkenny cats. The directors furnish music and offer other inducements to secure a good attendance, and their efforts ought to be successful, and it is to be hoped they will be so. On the first day of our visit there was a grand archery meeting, and the turn-out of Dublin belles was double in numbers. There was a large attendance of bowmen, too, and belles and beaux were banging away at the targets most unmercifully in keen contest for the prize; whether it was a medal, a ring, or an heiress, we could not learn; but if nothing more than the privilege of entering the lists against such lovely competitors, the bowmen ought to have been satisfied; but we don't suppose they were, for men are both ambitious and avaricious, and probably some of them hoped to win a prize medal, kill a beauty, and catch an heiress all at once, with one swift arrow sent whizzing and quivering into the very heart and gilded centre of the gaily-painted target. Perched up on the top of the cascades we noticed a double sliding-front stereoscopic camera, and doubtless Mr. York was busy photographing the scene we have been describing--impressions of which the London Stereoscopic Company will probably issue ere long. We must, however, leave this gay scene and turn our attention to other things, certainly not more attractive; but duty calls us away from beauty, and we must submit. Re-entering the Exhibition building, we seek the photographic department, which we readily find on the ground floor, between the music hall and the first-class refreshment-room. Entering from the Belgian department in the western transept, we find three rooms in the main building devoted to the exhibition of photographs, and a lobby between the rooms pretty well filled with apparatus. To Sir J. Jocelyn Coghill are photographers indebted for obtaining so much space for their works, and in such a get-at-able situation; but it is a pity the rooms are not better lighted. Many of the pictures on the screens are very indistinctly seen, and some are in dark corners scarcely to be seen at all. The foreign department, which is the first room we enter, is mainly made up of reproductions of old and modern engravings, and copies of drawings and paintings. One very remarkable photograph on the wall of this room is an immense magnification of a flea, by A. Duvette. What a subject for the camera!--one that suggests in sporting phraseology something more than the "find," the "chase," and the "death." A panoramic view of Rome, by M. Petagna, is a great achievement in panoramic photography. There are seven impressions from 15 by 12 plates, all carefully joined, and of equal tone. The point of view is "Tasso's Oak," and the panorama gives us an excellent idea of Rome at the present day. The British part of the Photographic Exhibition in Dublin might be very properly denominated an enlargement of the Society's exhibition now open in Conduit Street, London. Nearly all the principal exhibitors there have sent duplicates of their chief works to the Dublin Exhibition. There is Robinson's beautiful picture of "Brenda," his "May Gatherers," "Sunshine," "Autumn," "Somebody Coming," "Bringing home the May," &c., all old and familiar pictures, every one of which we have seen before. Robinson himself in his study--a beautiful piece of photography, even to his black velvet coat. Blanchard also repeats his "Zealot," and other subjects, and sends a frame full of his exquisite stereographs. England also sends some of his charming stereoscopic pictures of Switzerland and Savoy. Bedford's contribution is much the same as his pictures in the London exhibition. Among them are his lovely Warwickshire pictures. Wet-plate photography is well represented, both in landscape, portraiture, and composition. Among the latter, Rejlander is most prominent. One frame containing some pictures showing the "expression" of the hands, illustrates Rejlander's artistic knowledge and ability more than many of his other pictures. None but a thoughtful and accomplished artist could have disposed of those members in such a skilful manner. His pictures of "Grief," "The Mote," "The Wayfarer," "'Tis Light within--Dark without," and his "Home, Sweet Home," reveal exquisite feeling in his treatment of such subjects. Thurston Thompson also exhibits some of his fine reproductions of Turner. There is "Crossing the Brook," and "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage;" but a much larger collection of these beautiful copies of Turner's pictures are now on view at Marion's, in Soho Square. Dry plate photography is exemplified in all its phases, from the oldest form of albumen alone, to the latest modifications with collodion, collodio-albumen, Fothergill, tannin, malt, &c. The most prominent and largest contributor to this department is Mr. Mudd. In addition to the duplicates in the London Exhibition, he sends a few others, the most remarkable of which is a large view of "Borrowdale," a noble picture, exquisitely treated, showing masses of light and shade and pleasing composition which stamp it at once as a work of art. Mr. G. S. Penny exhibits some very fine examples of the tannin and malt process. They are soft and delicate, and possess sufficient force to give powerful contrasts when necessary. Mr. Bull's tannin and malt pictures are also very good; his "Menai Bridge" particularly so. The amateur photographers, both wet and dry, make a good show. And among the Irish followers of our delightful art are Sir J. J. Coghill, who exhibits twelve very pretty views of the neighbourhood of Castletownsend. Dr. Hemphill, of Clonmel, also exhibits a variety of subjects, many of them pretty compositions and excellent photography. Dr. Bailey, of Monaghan, contributes both landscapes and portraits of very good quality. Mr. T. M. Brownrigg shows seventeen photographs all excellent examples of the wet collodion process. Many of them are exquisite bits of photography, and evince an amount of thought and care in selecting the best point of view, arranging the lines of the subject, and catching the best effect of light so as to make them pictures, which is seldom attended to by professional photographers. Amongst the Irish professional photographers in landscape work, Mr. F. Mares, of Dublin, stands pre-eminent. His pictures of Killarney, and views in the county of Wicklow, are very beautiful, and give evidence of a cultivated eye and artistic taste in the selection of his subjects and points of view. There are other excellent views and architectural subjects by Irish photographers; but we are sorry to observe some that really ought not to have been admitted. They are not even average photography, being utterly destitute of manipulative skill, and as deficient in art-excellence as they can well be. One branch of landscape, or, we should say, marine photography, is without competition. We refer to those exquisite and charming transparencies by Mr. C. S. Breese. His moonlight effect is wonderfully managed; the water looks "alive," and the moonlight is dancing on the waves just as we have seen it far away upon the sea. His "Breaking Wave" is marvellous, coming to shore with its cavernous curl; we almost fancy we hear its angry howl as it dashes itself into foam on the beach. We have seen such a wave sweep the deck of a ship before now, and know well with what a ponderous weight and velocity it comes; and we wonder the more at Mr. Breese's success in catching the wave in such a position. We cannot, however, speak so highly of the "Sunlight" effects by the same artist. The transparencies as photographs are inimitable; but there is colour introduced into the skies which ought to have been taken up by the rocks, and so carried into the foregrounds of the pictures, to be natural. Such warm skies and cold middle distances and foregrounds are too antagonistic for the harmony of nature. In portraiture, our Irish brethren of the camera contribute somewhat liberally. In that branch we noticed the works of Messrs. Robertson and Co., S. Lawrence, and G. Schroeder, of Grafton Street; Millard and Robinson, Nelson and Marshall, and S. Chancellor, of Sackville Street, Dublin. T. Cranfield, Grafton Street, also exhibits some photographs beautifully coloured in oil. The most eminent English photographers also show up well. We saw the well-known works of Mayall, Silvy, Claudet, Maull and Co., and others, eminent in plain photography. Messrs. Lock and Whitfield exhibit a Royal case of exquisitely coloured photographs of the Prince and Princess of Wales, and Prince Albert Victor. Mr. G. Wharton Simpson also exhibits a few specimens of his beautiful collodio-chloride of silver printing process. There are some lovely specimens of that process with such a frightfully ugly name, but which, in plain parlance, are pictures on opal glass, though Mr. Helsby has christened them "Helioaristotypia miniatures." As a set-off to this, the next dry process that is discovered should be called "Hydrophobiatypia." In amateur portraiture, Mr. H. Cooper, Jun., exhibits a large number of his clever life studies, as well as those quiet and charming representations of his friends in their habits as they live. Solar camera enlargements are very numerously contributed. Mr. Claudet sends some good pictures enlarged by solar camera, and developed with gallic acid. Mr. Salomon also has some very good examples of enlarging. Dr. D. Van Monckhoven is an exhibitor of the capabilities of his direct printing camera. Mr. Mayall exhibits two series of very interesting enlargements by the Monckhoven camera, printed direct on albumenized paper; one is Tennyson, in eight different sizes, from a one-ninth to a life-size head on a whole sheet of paper; of the other, Captain Grant, there are seven similar pictures. These photographs are all bold and vigorous and uniform in colour, and come nearer to our idea of what an enlargement should be than anything we have yet seen. Of the two, that of the Poet-Laureate is the best; the other is harsher, which is in all probability due to the difference in the subjects themselves. We can easily imagine that the face of Captain Grant, bronzed and weather-beaten as it must be, will present more obstacles to the obtaining of a soft negative than that of Tennyson. Specimens of photo-sculpture are also to be seen at the Dublin Exhibition, many of which are very pretty and life-like statuettes; but some of the figures seem much too large in the _busts_, and the plinths on which the figures of ladies stand are in very bad taste; being diminishing beads of a circular form, they suggest the idea of a huge crinoline just dropped. Nearly all the denominations of photography have their representative forms and impressions in this Exhibition; and the history of the art, from the early days of the Daguerreotype to the latest vagary of the present day, may be traced in the collection of photographs spread before you on the walls and screens of the Dublin International Exhibition. There is the Daguerreotype, the Ambrotype, and the collodiotype, which ought to have been known as the Archertype; for the wet collodion process, although it is the most important of all the discoveries in photography that have been made since the first pictures were obtained by Wedgwood, is without a name conferring honour on the man who first applied collodion to photography. Archer's name is generally associated with it, but without taking that definite and appellative form it ought to. We know that another claimant has been "cutting in" for the honour, but unless that claim can be "backed up" by data, we are not disposed to believe that it was anterior to 1851--the year of the first exhibition; at that date we know that Mr. Archer took photographs on collodionized glass plates. Then why should we not honour Archer as the French honoured Daguerre, and call the wet collodion process the Archertype? In printing and toning, there are samples of nearly all the formulæ that have been discovered since the days of printing on plain salted paper and fixing in "hypo" only. There are prints on plain paper and on albumenized paper, toned and fixed in every conceivable way. There are prints on glass, porcelain, and ivory; prints in carbon, from the negative direct; and impressions in printer's ink from plates, blocks, and lithographic stones, which have had the subjects transferred to them by the aid of photography. There are Wothlytypes, and Simpsontypes, and Tooveytypes, and all the other types that have sprung from a desire to introduce novelties into the art. In graphs and the various forms and fanciful applications of photography to portraiture, &c., there are stereographs and micrographs, and the old-fashioned "sit-on-a-chair" graphs, the "stand-not-at-ease" graphs, the "small carte" graph, the "large carte" graph, the "casket gem" graph, the "magnesium" graph, the "cameo" graph, the "double-stupid" graph, and the latest of all novelties, the "turn-me-round" graph. The latter is a great curiosity, and must have been suggested by a recollection of that "scientific toy" of ancient manufacture with which we used to awaken the wonder of our little brothers and sisters at Christmas parties when we were boys, by twirling before their astonished eyes a piece of cardboard with a bird painted on one side and a cage on the other, both pictures being seen at the same time during the rapid revolution of the card. In apparatus there is not much to talk about, the Pantascopic camera being the chief novelty. There are several of the manufacturers exhibiting in the photographic department, but we could not reconcile ourselves to the circumstance of Mr. Dallmeyer not exhibiting in the right place. His name is honoured by photographers, and he should have honoured Photography by going in under her colours. If he must go to the "scientific department," he ought to have gone there with his scientific instruments alone, and shown his photographic apparatus in the place assigned for that purpose. True, he makes a handsome show, but that does not atone for his mistake. Photographers are queer animals--jealous of their rights, and as sensitive to slight as their plates are to light; and we fear we are ourselves not much better. A large majority of photographers stand by Mr. Dallmeyer, and very justly believe in his 1 and 2 B's as shippers do in A 1's at Lloyd's; and _his_ stand should have been in the photographic department. In other parts of the Exhibition building there are various subjects highly interesting to photographers. The chemical department has its attractions in samples of collodio-chloride of silver, prepared by Messrs. Mawson and Swan, for the opal printing process and the Simpsontype. Specimens of each type are also to be seen there; and there are other chemicals used in photography, even to dextrine and starch: the purity of the latter is known by the size and length of its crystals. In metallurgy there is also something to interest photographers. Messrs. Johnson and Sons exhibit some very fine samples of nitrate of silver, double and treble crystallized, silver dippers, chloride of gold, nitrate of uranium, and other scarce metals. Messrs. Johnson, Matthey, and Co. also exhibit some fine samples of nitrate of silver and chloride of gold; and some wonderful specimens of magnesium, in various forms, in wire and ribbon. One coil of ribbon is 4,800 feet long, and weighs 40 ounces; and there is an obelisk of magnesium about 20 inches high, and weighing 162 ounces. There are many other things in this case of great value which have a photographic bearing--amongst these a platinum boiler, valued at £1,500, for the concentration and rectification of sulphuric acid; a platinum alembic, value £350, for the separation and refining of gold and silver; also an ingot of platinum, weighing 3,200 ounces, and valued at £3,840. The exhibitors say that "such a mass of fused platinum is never likely to be again produced." The whole of the contents of Messrs. Johnson, Matthey, and Co.'s case of precious metals, most of which have a direct or indirect application to photography, are estimated at the enormous value of £16,000! Mining, too, has its attractions for us; and as we near the Nova Scotia division of the Exhibition building the needle of our observation dips towards a bar of pure gold, weighing 48 pounds, and valued at £2,200 sterling. By the gentlemanly courtesy of the Rev. Dr. Honeyman, Honorary Secretary and Commissioner in Dublin, from the province of Nova Scotia, we were favoured with a "lift" of this valuable lump of gold, and we could not help exclaiming, "What a lot of chloride this would make!" But we had to "drop it" very quickly, for the muscles of our fingers could not bear the strain of holding it more than a few seconds. This bar of gold was obtained from very rich quartz, specimens of which are to be seen near it; and Dr. Honeyman informed us that the average daily remuneration from such quartz was thirty shillings sterling per man. It is not generally known that the province of Nova Scotia is so rich in gold; but, from statistics by the Chief Commissioner of Mines for the province, we find that the average yield of the Nova Scotia quartz is over 19 dwt. per ton, and richer than the quartz of Australia; and the deeper the shafts are sunk the richer the quartz becomes. In 1864 the total yield from all the gold districts of Nova Scotia was 20,022 ounces, 18 dwts., 13 grs. Gold dust and scales have also been found in the sands on the sea coast of the province, and in the sands of Sable Island, which is eighty miles distant, in the Atlantic Ocean. Having in our own colonies such an abundance of one of the precious metals so extensively used in the practice of our art, photographers need not be under any apprehension of having their supplies cut off. Continuing our general survey, we stumble upon many things of considerable interest. But, as our space will only allow us to particularize those articles which have a photographic attraction, direct or indirect, we must as far as possible imagine ourselves something like animated photometers for the time being, registering the aspects, changes, and remarkable phenomena connected with our art, and whatever can be applied to photography and the use of photographers; or whatever photography can be applied to, artistically or commercially considered. Of some things non-photographic, but of interest to photographers as well as others, we may be induced to say a little; but of most subjects foreign to our profession we shall simply say to our readers, "We have seen such wondrous things, go ye and do likewise." We finished our last paper with a few comments on what was photographically interesting in the province of Nova Scotia. Passing from that to the provinces of the Lower and Upper Canadas, which are very properly placed next door to each other, we are struck with some very good and interesting photographs of Canadian scenery, both plain and in colours, and a frame of portraits of the delegates of the British North American Confederation. Samples of all kinds of native and Indian manufactures, and specimens of mineral ores, chiefly iron and copper, are also displayed here. Pursuing our way southwards from the Colonial division of the galleries, we come to China and Japan. The geographical and relative positions of the countries exhibiting are not strictly adhered to in the plan of the Exhibition, so we must, of necessity, make some "long legs," and experience some imaginary transitions of temperature during our journey of observation. In Japan we stop to look at a life-size group of female figures, representing a princess at her toilette, attended by four female slaves, books illustrated with wood-cuts, plain and coloured, bronzes, and many other articles of art and manufacture, by the Japanese, of much interest. In China, there is a State bedstead of great beauty, books of paintings upon rice-paper, and many beautiful bronzes, carvings, and other specimens of Chinese art. We pass through Turkey, and next come to Siam, but the latter country does not exhibit much, except of a "seedy" character. We admit we are sometimes addicted to making puns, but the Siamese send puns for exhibition. There is an article called "pun," which is "prepared lime, coloured pink with turmeric," but to what use it is applied we have not been enlightened. Passing through France, Austria, Prussia, Belgium, and Holland, without stopping to notice anything particularly, and turning into the south corridor, we enter the Water Colour Gallery, which we quickly leave, sighing, "How unlike that beautiful and attractive section of the Art Treasure Exhibition at Manchester in 1857!" Hastening into the Central Picture Gallery, we are much struck with the different appearance it presents, and find numbers of ladies and gentlemen admiring the numerous productions by painters belonging to the various foreign schools. Among these works are some grand subjects, both in historical and ideal composition, and landscape representations. This gallery has a particularly noble and handsome appearance. It is oblong, well-lighted, and open in the middle, by which means the Sculpture Hall, which is underneath, is lighted. The sides of the gallery next the open space are handsomely railed round, and pedestals, with marble busts and statuettes on them, are tastefully arranged at intervals, leaving room enough for you to look down into the Sculpture Hall below. What with the fine pictures on the walls and staircase, and the noble statues in marble about and below, you cannot but come to the conclusion that this is a noble temple of art. We next enter the east front room, which contains the works of the Belgian artists. Many of these paintings are very finely conceived and executed. The largest and most striking of them is the "Defeat of the Duke of Alençon's Troops by the Citizens of Antwerp," painted by A. Dillens. Now we enter the Great Picture Gallery, which is devoted to the painters belonging to the British school. Here we find many of the well-known works from the National Gallery and Kensington Museum. There are examples of the works of Callcott, Collins, Wilkie, Wilson, Turner, Landseer, Mulready, Etty, Egg, Ward, Leslie, and a host of others. Her Majesty the Queen also sends several pictures from her private collection, as examples of the works of Winterhalter, Thomas, and Stanfield. Nearly all the British artists are creditably represented in the Dublin International Art Exhibition. We next come to the Collection of Ancient Masters in the North Gallery, which we enter from the North Corridor. To this part of the Fine Art Exhibition the Earl of Portarlington is the most liberal contributor. He sends examples of Titian, Rubens, Carlo Dolci, Tintoretto, Canalette, Claude, Watteau, Rembrandt, Gerard Dow, Schneiders, Vandevelde, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Sir Peter Lely, and others. The Marquis of Drogheda also sends several examples of the same masters, some of them very fine ones. Sir Charles Coote sends a great many paintings; among them a Murillo, a Guido, and a Gainsborough. Thence we pass into the Mediæval Court, where we find nothing but croziers, sacramental cups and plates, carved panels for pulpits and clerks' desks, reminding us of "responses" and "amens." These we leave to Churchmen, enthusiastic Puseyites, and devotees of Catholicism. And we wend our way round the galleries, passing through Switzerland and Italy into the United Kingdom, where we stop to examine some of the art manufactures peculiar to Ireland, and are particularly interested in the specimens of Irish bog oak, carved most tastefully into various ornaments, such as brooches, pins, paper-knives, &c., and sculptured into humorous and characteristic statuettes. The most noticeable of that class of Irish art and industry is a clever group, entitled, "Where's the man that dare tread on my coat?" This really humorous and artistic statuette is one of a group of two. One is a rollicking Irishman brandishing his shillelagh over his head and trailing his coat on the ground, which is the Irishman's challenge for a fight at such places as Donnybrook Fair. The other Irishman, who is equally ready for a "row," is in the act of treading on the coat, as an acceptance of the challenge. The story is so cleverly told, that we almost fancy we see the fight begin, and hear the shillelaghs cracking crowns in a genuine Irish row. Pushing on through India to the British Colonies again, whence we started, we descend to the ground floor, and resume our survey of Sweden, Norway, Italy, and Rome, and turn into the Music Hall, which is on the south side of the entrance and Statuary Hall. Here we find the organ builders at work on the grand organ, blowing up one pipe after another, and producing such volumes of inharmonious sounds that we are glad to leave them to the full and hearty enjoyment of their pipes, chords, discords, and bellows-blowing. The walls of the Music Hall are nearly covered with cartoons and paintings of a high-class, some of them so high that we require an opera-glass to bring them within the range of our visual organs. We next enter the Sculpture Hall with a view of examining the statues and describing them carefully. But they are so numerous that we can only find space to call attention to the most striking. There are over three hundred pieces of sculpture from various countries, comprising colossal and life-size figures, groups, busts, statuettes, and alto-relievos in marble and bronze. The most attractive of the marble statues are "Michael Angelo, when a child, sculpturing the head of a Faun" (his first work), by Emilio Zocchi, of Florence. The earnestness of purpose and devotion to his task are wonderfully expressed in the countenance of the boy-sculptor. Plying the hammer and chisel actively and vigorously, every part of the figure betokens a thorough abandonment to his occupation. A very remarkable work by a lady sculptor--Miss Harriett Hosmer--entitled "The Sleeping Faun," is the very opposite to the other, in its complete abandonment to repose. This fine statue has been purchased by Mr. Guiness, and we were told he had given a munificent sum for it. Another piece of exquisite beauty and daring skill in marble working is "The Swinging Girl," by Pietro Magni, of Milan, the sculptor of "The Reading Girl," which attracted so much attention in the International Exhibition of 1862. The figure of the girl swinging is beautifully modelled, and entirely free from contact with the base; and is supported only by the swing attached to the branch of a tree, and the hand of a boy giving action to the subject. "Ophelia," by W. C. Marshall, is perhaps the most poetic conception of the loveliest and most mournful of Shakespeare's creations that has ever been sculptured. It is almost impossible to look at this touching representation of Ophelia in her madness without exclaiming, in a modified quotation of her own description of Hamlet-- "O, what a gentle mind is here o'erthrown." But we must stop. To go on in this way describing all the beautiful works of art in the Dublin Exhibition would fill a volume. Already we have allowed our admiration to carry us beyond the limits we had assigned ourselves. We have been tempted to describe more than photographic works, but none that have not a value artistically or otherwise to photographers. We recommend all our readers that possibly can to go and see for themselves. The trip is a very pleasant one, and need not be expensive; nor need much time be spent unnecessarily. A week's absence from business will give you five clear days in Dublin, the other two only being occupied in travelling. Five days will be amply sufficient to see the Exhibition and the "extraneous lions" of Dublin also. If your time is limited, give a carman a job to "rowl" you to the principal places of interest. But "by all means" select a rough, ragged, red-headed, laughing-faced Irishman for your jarvey, and depend upon it he will keep you in good humour during the whole of your trip. And every time you come to a public-house he will say his "horse wants a dthrink," and "Won't yer honours have a dthrop?" as if he was going to stand treat; but of course you know what he means; besides, the idea of allowing a carman to treat his fare is not to be entertained for a moment, nor can you resist the good-humoured intimation of his desire to drink your health, for which honour, as a matter of course, you pay costs. Having endeavoured to conduct our readers to Dublin, and give them a glance at the Exhibition, photographically and generally, we shall now take our leave of the capital of Ireland, and return to town in much the same manner as we went. We leave the Irish capital at 1.30 in the afternoon, and, after a pleasant and quiet run across the Channel, enter Holyhead harbour about seven o'clock. This arrangement gives you an opportunity of seeing the Welsh coast to the best advantage as you approach. Stepping into the train which is waiting our arrival, we are speedily on our way home. At Rugby we have to change, and wait a little; but before leaving there we pass the sign which only old masons and travellers know, and are provided with a first-class bed and _board_, and so make ourselves comfortable for the night. We know nothing more of the remainder of the journey. Old Somnus has charge of us inside, and an old kind-hearted guard takes care of us outside, until we are aroused by the guard's "Good morning, gentlemen!" about six o'clock, a.m., within a few miles of Euston Square. In conclusion, we sincerely recommend as many of our readers as can to take a trip "to Dublin and back," and a glance at the Dublin International Exhibition. PHOTOGRAPHY IN THE NORTH. On a recent journey northwards, I was tempted to stop at York, take a look at the Exhibition there, and see if there were anything worth notice in the Photographic Department. That part of the Exhibition is exceedingly scanty, but the best Yorkshire photographers are well represented, both in landscape and portraiture. Among the contributors are the names of Sarony, Glaisby, Holroyd, Gowland, and other well-known names. Mr. Sarony exhibits a couple of frames containing several "new photo-crayons," cartes-de-visite vignettes, which are very sketchy and effective, exhibiting those free and "dashy lines" and "hatchings" so characteristic of the "softening off" of artistic crayon drawings. This effect may be produced by a process of double printing, but it is more likely to have been obtained direct in the camera from a screen, having the edges of the aperture "softened off" with some free touches, the screen, in all probability, being placed between the lens and the sitter. Mr. Sarony also exhibits some large photographs very beautifully finished in colours. Messrs. Gowland exhibit, in a revolving case, a very unique collection of medallions and vignettes, both plain and coloured, mounted on tinted grounds, which give the pictures a very chaste and delicate appearance. The photographs themselves are exquisite bits of artistic pose and careful manipulation. They also exhibit a charming vignette of twenty-nine young ladies, all cleverly arranged, each figure sharp and distinct, and evidently recognisable portraits. This picture reminds one of Watteau, for the figures are in the woods, only, instead of semi-nude nymphs, the sitters are all properly and fashionably dressed young ladies. Messrs. Holroyd contribute some very excellent cartes-de-visite and enlargements. Mr. E. C. Walker, of Liverpool, exhibits some very beautiful opalotypes, or "photographs on enamelled glass." Mr. Swan, Charing Cross, London, also sends specimens of his crystal cube portraits. Mr. A. H. Clarke, a deaf and dumb photographer, exhibits some very good groups of the Princess of Wales, Lady Wharncliffe, Lady Maud Lascelles, Countess Granville, and the Hon. Mrs. Hardinge, taken in the conservatory, when the Princess and suite were on a visit to Studley Royal, Yorkshire. Amongst the landscape photographs are to be found some of Bedford's finest views of Egypt and Jerusalem, Devonshire and Warwickshire, the beauties of which are so well-known to everyone interested in photography. Some of the local views by local artists are very fine; W. P. Glaisby's views of York Minster are capital, especially the interiors. Messrs. Jackson Brothers, of Oldham, exhibit some very fine views, and show what atmospheric effects the camera is capable of rendering. That view of "Birstall Church" is a perfect master-piece of photo-aerial perspective. There are also a considerable number of photographic productions from the South Kensington Museum. Mr. Gregson, of Halifax, exhibits some excellent photographs of machinery. In apparatus there is nothing novel or striking, there being but one case of cameras, &c., exhibited by a London maker. There is a "water agitator" in the machinery "annexe," for washing photographic prints, but the invention is more ingenious than effective, for the water is not agitated sufficiently, except in the immediate neighbourhood of the fan or "agitator," which moves backwards and forwards in the water, in a manner somewhat similar to the motion of the pendulum of a clock, and so laves the water to and fro; but the force is not sufficient to prevent the prints from lying close together at the extremities of the trough, and imperfect washing is sure to be the result. The motion is given to the "agitator" by the water falling on a small wheel, something like "Williams's revolving print washing machine." To describe the Exhibition itself: It is rather like a "compound mixture" of the church, the shop, and the show. The "Great Hall" is something like the nave of a wooden cathedral, with galleries running all round, and a grand organ at the end, peeling forth, at intervals, solemn strains of long measure. Over the organ, in white letters on a red ground, is the quotation, "He hath made all things beautiful in his time." The show cases on the floor of the Grand Hall are arranged as indiscriminately as the shops in Oxford Street. In one case there are exhibited samples of Colman's mustard, in that next to it samples of "Elkington and Co.'s plated goods," and in another close by are samples of saddlery, which give the place more the business aspect of a bazaar than the desirable and advantageous classification of an exhibition. Then you are reminded of the show by the frequent ringing of a loud bell, and cries of "This way to the fairy fountain, just going to begin, only twopence." Such things jar on the ears and nerves of quiet visitors, and are only expected in such a place as the Polytechnic in London. The great features of the York Exhibition are the picture galleries; and here a better order of things prevails. The collections are classified; one gallery, or part of it, being devoted to the works of the old masters, another to the modern, and another to the water-colours. Among the old masters are some fine portraits by Velasquez, Tintoretto, Rembrandt, Vandyke, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Gainsborough, Sir Peter Lely, and others. And some of those grand old landscapes by Salvator Rosa, Rubens, Claude, Wilson, the English Claude, and George Morland, such pictures as are rarely seen out of private collections. The modern masters are abundantly represented by Wilkie, Etty, Frith, Westall, Faed, Cope, E. Nicol, Stanfield, Linnell, and a host of others. Amongst the water-colours are many fine examples of the works of Turner, the Richardsons (father and sons), Birket Foster, &c., &c. Sculpture is very faintly represented, but there is a charming little Canova, Dirce, exhibited by Lord Wenlock; an antique bust of Julius Cæsar, which seems to have been found in fragments and carefully joined together. This bust is exhibited by the Hon. P. Downay, and was found in Rome amongst some rubbish, while some excavations were being made. There is also an interesting series of marble busts of the Twelve Cæsars, exhibited by Lord Londesborough. The Exhibition is open in the evening, and brilliantly lighted with gas till ten o'clock; and, taking it "all in all," it is a very creditable effort in the right direction, and does honour to York and Yorkshiremen. Further north still, at Newcastle-on-Tyne, there is another exhibition of "Arts and Manufactures," the chief photographic feature of which is a considerable display of "Swan's Carbon Prints," from several well-known negatives by Bedford and Robinson. The promise of this process is very great, and its commercial advantages were singularly demonstrated to me when visiting the printing establishment of Mr. Swan, which I happened to do on a dark and unfavourable day--one totally unfit for silver printing; and yet I saw several very beautiful carbon prints that had been produced that day, the rate of production being about eight to one over silver printing. As a proof of the certainty and commercial application to which Mr. Swan has reduced his beautiful process, I need only mention that he has undertaken the printing of two thousand copies of the celebrated picture of "The First General Assembly of the Church of Scotland," painted by D. O. Hill. This historical picture contains four hundred and fifty portraits: the negatives were taken from the original painting by Mr. Annan, photographer, Glasgow, and are 32 by 14 inches, and 24 by 9 inches; and Mr. Swan has to turn off one thousand copies of each within a given time. The publishers of the work give a guarantee to their subscribers that every print shall be of a high standard, for each one has to pass the examination of two competent judges. They also very justly pride themselves on being the very first to translate and multiply such noble works of art by a process "so beautiful, and, at the same time, _imperishable_." I saw several of the prints, both in process of development and complete; and anything more like rich, soft, and brilliant impressions of a fine mezzotint engraving I never saw, by any process of photography. Mr. Swan's arrangements for conducting the various parts of his process are very extensive and complete; and his mode of "developing and transferring" seems to be the very acme of perfection. But, as Mr. Swan is about to publish a work containing a full description of the process, with a beautiful specimen print as frontispiece, I will not anticipate him, or mar his own comprehensive account of the details of a process which he has brought to such a state of beauty and perfection, by an amount of patient perseverance and thoughtful application rarely exhibited or possessed by one individual. I also visited the photographic establishment of Messrs. Downey in Newcastle, and there saw some _cabinet pictures_ of the Princess of Wales, taken recently at Abergeldie Castle. Messrs. Downey have just returned from Balmoral with upwards of two hundred negatives, including whole-plate, half-plate, and _cabinet_ size, which will be published in one or all those sizes, as soon as the orders of Her Majesty have been executed. From the well-known reputation of the Messrs. Downey as photographers, it is, in all probability, a treat in store for the lovers of photography, to get a sight of their latest works at Balmoral and Abergeldie. Mr. Parry, another excellent photographer in Newcastle, was also making arrangements to introduce the new cabinet size picture in a style that will insure its success. Altogether, the movements of the best photographers in the North are highly commendable, and, with their notoriously practical minds, there is little doubt of their undertakings becoming a success. Let us hope that the same elements of energy and "push" will speedily impregnate the minds of all photographers, and create a combination that will develop a new form of popular beauty, and result in forming a salt that will savour their labours, produce deposits of gold, and create innumerable orders of merit. ERRORS IN PICTORIAL BACKGROUNDS. We have recently had a few papers on the necessity of art culture and art knowledge in relation to photography, but they have chiefly been of a theoretical and speculative character, few, if any, assuming a practical form. "Apply the rod to teach the child" is an old saying, and our artist friends and teachers _have_ applied the rod and belaboured photography most unmercifully, but they have _not_ taught the child. They have contented themselves with abusing photographers for not doing what was right, instead of teaching them how to avoid what was wrong. It will be my endeavour to point out, in this paper, some errors that have crept into photographers' and artists' studios, and I hope to be able to suggest a remedy that will lessen these evils, and elevate photography in the scale of art. The faults in pictorial backgrounds that I invite your attention to, arise from the neglect of the principles of linear and aerial perspective. I do not speak of the errors in perspective that may exist in the backgrounds themselves, viewing them as pictures; but I refer to the manifest fault of depicting the sitter--the principal object--according to one condition of perspective, and the background that is placed behind him according to another. An unpardonable error in any work of art, whether photograph or painting, is to represent a natural object in an unnatural position. By this I do not mean an awkward and constrained attitude, but a false position of the principal subject in relation to the other objects by which it is surrounded. We frequently see portraits, both full-length and three-quarter size, with landscape backgrounds--or a bit of landscape to be seen through a painted or actual window--of the most unnatural proportions in relation to the figure itself. The head of the subject is stuck high in the heavens--sometimes so high that, in relation to the painted landscape, nothing shorter than a church steeple could attain such an altitude. The trees and castles of the pretty landscape, supposed to be behind the sitter, are like children's toys; the mountains are like footballs in size, and the "horizon" is not so much in relation to the figure as the width of a fishpond is to a man standing on one side of it. It must be admitted that artists themselves have set this bad example of departing from truth to give increased importance to their subjects by placing their figures against diminutive backgrounds; but that is a liberty taken with nature which photographers should neither imitate nor allow. Photography is, in all other respects, so rigidly truthful that it cannot consistently sanction such a violation of natural laws. Pictorial backgrounds have usually been painted on the same principle as a landscape picture, and one of the earliest things the painter has to determine is, where he shall represent that line where the sky and earth appear to meet--technically, the _horizontal line_. This settled, all the lines, not vertical or horizontal in the picture, below this are made to appear to rise up to it, and those above descend, and if all these are in due proportion the perspective is correct, no matter whether this governing line is assumed to be in the upper, lower, or middle part of the picture. A painter can suppose this imaginary line to be at any height he pleases in his picture, and paint accordingly. In photography it is invariable, and is always on a level with the lens of the camera. To illustrate the relation of the horizontal line to the human figure, when a pictorial background is to be introduced, let us imagine that we are taking a portrait out-of-doors, with a free and open country behind the person standing for his carte-de-visite. The camera and the model are, as a matter of course, on the same level. Now focus the subject and observe the linear construction of the landscape background of nature. See how all the lines of the objects below the level of the lens run up to it, and the lines of the objects above run down to it. Right across the lens is the horizontal line, and the centre is the point of sight, where all the lines will appear to converge. Suppose the lens to be on a level with the face of the subject, the horizontal line of the picture produced on the ground glass will be as near as possible as high as the eyes of the subject. Trees and hills in the distance will be above, and the whole picture will be in harmony. This applies to interior views as well, but the ocular demonstration is not so conclusive, for the converging lines will be cut or stopped by the perpendicular wall forming the background. Nevertheless, all the converging lines that are visible will be seen to be on their way to the point of sight. Whether a natural background consisted of an interior, or comprised both--such as a portion of the wall of a room and a peep through a window on one side of the figure--the conditions would be exactly the same. All the lines above the lens must come down, and all that are below must go up. The following diagrams will illustrate this principle still more clearly. [Illustration: Fig. 1.] [Illustration: Fig. 2.] Fig. 1 is a section of the linear construction of a picture, and will show how the lines converge from the point of observation to the point of sight. Artists, in constructing a landscape of an ordinary form, allot to the sky generally about twice the space between the base and horizontal lines. But for portraits and groups, where the figures are of the greatest importance and nearer to the eye, the proportion of sky and earth is reversed, so as to give increased value to the principal figures, by making them apparently larger, and still preserving the proper relation between them and the horizontal line (see fig. 2). This diagram represents the conditions of a full-length carte portrait, where the governing horizontal line is on a level with the camera. If a pictorial background, painted in the usual way, with the horizontal line low in the picture, is now placed behind the sitter, the resulting photograph will be incongruous and offensive. It will be seen, on referring to fig. 2, that all the lines below the horizon must of necessity run up to it, no matter how high the horizontal line may be, for it is impossible to have two horizons in one picture; that is, a visible horizon in the landscape background, and an imaginary one for the figure, with the horizontal line of the background far below the head of the figure, and the head far up in the sky. The head of a human figure can only be seen so far above the horizontal line under certain conditions; such as being elevated above the observer by being mounted on horseback, standing on higher ground, or otherwise placed considerably above the base line, none of which conditions are present in a studio. Whenever the observed and observer are on the same level, as must be the case when a photographer is taking the portrait of a sitter in his studio, the head of the subject could not possibly be seen so high in the sky, if the lens included a natural background instead of a painted one. As, for convenience, the painted background is intended to take the place of a natural one, care should be taken that the linear and aerial perspectives should be as true to nature as possible, and in perfect harmony with the size of the figures. The lens registers, on the prepared plate, the relative proportions of natural objects as faithfully as the retina receives them through the eye, and if we wish to carry out the illusion of pictorial backgrounds correctly, we _must_ have the linear construction of the picture, which is intended to represent nature, as true in every respect as nature is herself. Aerial perspective has not been sufficiently attended to by the painters of pictorial backgrounds. There are many other subjects in connection with art and photography that might be discussed with advantage--such as composition, arrangement of accessories, size, form, character, and fitness of the things employed; but I leave all these for another opportunity, or to someone more able to handle the subjects. For the present, I am content to point out those errors that arise from neglecting true perspective, and while showing the cause, distinctively supply a remedy. It is not the fault of perspective in the background where the lines are not in harmony with each other--these too frequently occur, and are easily detected--but it is the error of painting a pictorial background as if it were an independent picture, without reference to the conditions under which it is to be used. The conditions of perspective are determined by the situation of the lens and the sitter. If the actual objects existed behind the sitter, and were photographed simultaneously with the sitter, the same laws of perspective would govern the two. What I urge is, that if, instead of the objects, a representation of them be put behind the sitter, that representation be also a correct one. The laws of perspective teach how it may be made correctly, and the starting point is the position of the lens in relation to the sitter. Some may say that these conditions of painting a background cannot be complied with, as the lens and sitter are never twice exactly in the same relation to each other. There is less force in this objection than at first appears. Each photographer uses the same lens for all his _carte_ portraits--and pictorial backgrounds are very frequently used for these--and the height of his camera, as well as the distance from his sitter, are so nearly constant, that the small amount of errors thus caused need not be recognized. If the errors that exist were not far more grave, there would be no necessity for this paper. Exceptional pictures should have corresponding backgrounds. When a "sitter" is photographed standing in front of a pictorial background, the photograph will represent him either standing in a natural scene, or before a badly-painted picture. Nobody should wittingly punish his sitter by doing the latter when he could do the former, and the first step to form the desirable illusion is pictorial truth. There is no reason why the backgrounds should not be painted truthfully and according to correct principles, for the one is as easy as the other. I daresay the reason is that artists have not intentionally done wrong--it would be too bad to suppose that--but they have treated the backgrounds as independent pictures, and it is for photographers to make what use of them they think proper. The real principles are, however, now stated, by which they can be painted so as to be more photographically useful, and artists and photographers have alike the key to pictorial truth. In conclusion, I would suggest to photographers the necessity of studying nature more carefully--to observe her in their walks abroad, to notice the gradual decrease of objects both in size and distinctness, to remember that their lens is to their camera what their eye is to themselves, to give as faithful a transcript of nature as they possibly can, to watch the flow of nature's lines, as well as natural light and shade, and, by a constant study and exhibition of truth and beauty in their works, make photography eventually the teacher of art, instead of art, as is now the case, being the reviler of photography. PERSPECTIVE. _To the Editors._ Gentlemen,--At the end of Mr. Alfred H. Wall's reply to Mr. Carey Lea's letter on _Artists and Photographers_, I notice that he cautions your readers not to receive the very simple rules of perspective laid down in my paper, entitled _Errors in Pictorial Backgrounds_, until they have acquired more information on the subject. Allow me to state that all I said on perspective in that paper only went to show that there should be but one horizon in the same picture; that the lines of all objects _below_ that horizon should run up to it; that the lines of all objects _above_ should run down, no matter where that _one_ horizon was placed; and that the horizon of the landscape background should be in due relation to the sitter and on a level with the eye of the observer, the observer being either the lens or the painter. If your correspondent considers that I was in error by laying down such plain and common sense rules, which everyone can see and judge for himself by looking down a street, then I freely admit that your correspondent knows a great deal more about _false_ perspective than I do, or should like to do. Again, if your correspondent cannot see why I "volunteered to instruct artists" or painters of backgrounds, perhaps he will allow me to inform him that I did so simply because background painters have hitherto supplied photographers with backgrounds totally unfit for use in the photographic studio. In spite of Mr. Wall's assumption of superior knowledge on subjects relating to art, I may still be able to give him a hint how to produce a pictorial background that will be much more natural, proportionate, and suitable for the use of photographers than any hitherto painted. Let Mr. Wall, or any other background painter, go _out_ with the camera and take a _carte-de-visite_ portrait out-of-doors, placing the subject in any well-chosen and suitable natural scene, and photograph the "sitter" and the natural scene at the same time. Then bring the picture so obtained into his studio and enlarge it up to "life-size," which he can easily do by the old-fashioned system of "squaring," or, better still, by the aid of a magic lantern, and with the help of a sketch of the scene as well, to enable him to fill in correctly that part of the landscape concealed by the figure taken on the spot; so that, when reproduced by the photographer in _his_ studio, he will have a representation of a natural scene, with everything seen in the background in correct perspective, and in natural proportions in relation to the "sitter." This will also show how _few_ objects can naturally be introduced into a landscape background; and if the distant scenery be misty and undefined, so much the better. It is the sharpness, hardness, and superabundance of subjects introduced into pictorial backgrounds generally that I object to, and endeavoured to point out in my paper; and I consider it no small compliment to have had my views on that part of my subject so emphatically endorsed by so good an authority as Mr. Wallis, in his remarks on backgrounds at the last meeting of the South London Photographic Society. I make no pretensions to the title of "artist," although I studied perspective, drawing from the flat and round, light and shade, and other things in connection with a branch of art which I abandoned many years ago for the more lucrative profession of a photographer. Were I so disposed, I could quote Reynolds, Burnett, and Ruskin as glibly as your correspondent; but I prefer putting my own views on any subject before my readers in language of my own. I endeavour to be in all my words and actions thoroughly independent and consistent, which is more than I can say for your correspondent "A. H. W." In proof of which, I should like to call the attention of your readers to a passage in his "Practical Art Hints," in the last issue of _The British Journal of Photography_, where he says:--"It is perversion and degradation to an art like ours to make its truth and unity subservient to conventional tricks, shams, and mechanical dodges," while at the last meeting of the South London Photographic Society, when speaking of backgrounds, he admitted they were _all conventional_. Now, that is just what we do not want, and which was the chief object I had in view when I wrote my paper. We have had too many of those art-conventional backgrounds, and want something more in accordance with natural truth and the requirements of photography. In conclusion, allow me to observe that I should be truly sorry were I to mislead anyone in the pursuit of knowledge relative to our profession, either artistically or photographically. But let it be borne in mind that it is admitted on all sides, and by the best authorities, that nearly all the pictorial backgrounds now in use are quite unnatural, and totally unsuited for the purposes for which they are intended. Therefore the paper I read will have done the good I intended, and answered the purpose for which it was written, if it has been the means of calling attention to such glaring defects and absurdities as are now being perpetrated by background painters, and bringing in their place more natural, truthful, and photographically useful backgrounds into the studios of all photographers.--I am, yours, &c., J. Werge. _February 10th, 1866._ PERSPECTIVE IN BACKGROUNDS. _To the Editors._ Gentlemen,--I must beg of you to allow me to reply to Mr. Wall once more, and for the last time, on this subject, especially as that gentleman expects an answer from me. To put myself into a fair position with regard to Mr. Wall and your readers, I will reply to the latter part of his letter first, by stating that I endeavour to avoid all personality in this discussion, and should be sorry to descend to anything of the kind knowingly. When I spoke of "independency and consistency," I had not in view anything relative to his private character, but simply that kind of independence which enables a man to trust to his own powers of utterance for the expression of his ideas, instead of that incessant quoting the language of others, to which your correspondent, Mr. Wall, is so prone. As to his inconsistency, I mean that tendency which he exhibits to advocate a principle at one time, and denounce it at another. I shall prove that presently. Towards Mr. Wall, personally, I have neither animosity nor pique, and would take him by the hand as freely and frankly as ever I did were I to meet him at this moment. With his actions as a private gentleman I have nothing to do. I look upon him now as a controvertist only. So far, I hope I have made myself clearly understood by Mr. Wall and all concerned. I also should like to have had so important a question discussed without introducing so much of that frivolous smartness of style generally adopted by Mr. Wall. But, as he has introduced two would-be-funny similes, I beg to dispose of them before going into more serious matter. Taking the "butcher" first (see the fifth paragraph in Mr. Wall's last letter), I should say that, if I were _eating_ the meat, I should be able to judge of its quality, and know whether it was good or bad, in spite of all the butcher might say to the contrary; and surely, no man not an out-and-out vegetarian, or lacking one of the five senses--to say nothing of _common sense_--will admit that it is _necessary_ to be a "butcher" to enable him to be a judge of good meat. On the same ground, I contend that it is _not_ necessary for a man to be an artist to have a thorough knowledge of perspective; and I have known many artists who knew as little about perspective, practically, as their easel did. They had a vague and dreamy idea of some governing principles, but how to put those principles into practice they had not the slightest notion. I once met an artist who could not put a tesselated pavement into perspective, and yet he had some right to the title of artist, for he could draw and paint the human figure well. Perspective is based on geometrical principles, and can be as easily mastered by any man not an artist as the first book of Euclid, or the first four rules of arithmetic; and, for all that, it is astonishing how many artists know so little about the working rules of perspective. Again: Mr. Wall is surely not prepared to advance the dictum that no one can know anything about art but a professional artist. If so, how does he reconcile that opinion with the fact of his great and oft-quoted authority, Ruskin, not being an artist, but simply, in his public character, a voluminous writer on art, not always right, as many artists and photographers very well know. Mr. Wall objects to my use of the word "artist," but he seems to have overlooked the fact that I used the quotation marks to show that I meant to apply it to the class of self-styled artists, or men who arrogate to themselves a title they do not merit--not such men as Landseer, Maclise, Faed, Philips, Millais, and others of, and not of, the "Forty." Mr. Wall may be an artist. I do not say he is not. He also is, or was, a painter of backgrounds. So he can apply to himself whichever title he likes best; but whether he deserves either one or the other, depends on what he has done to merit the appellative. Mr. Wall questions the accuracy of the principles I advocated in my paper. I contend that I am perfectly correct, and am the more astonished at Mr. Wall when I refer to vol. v., page 123, of the _Photographic News_. There I find, in an article bearing his own name, and entitled "The Technology of Art as Applied to Photography," that he says:-- "If you make use of a painted cloth to represent an interior or out-door view, the horizontal line must be at somewhere about the height which your lens is most generally placed at, and the vanishing point nearly opposite the spot occupied by the camera. * * * * I have just said that the horizon of a landscape background and the vanishing point should be opposite the lens; I may, perhaps, for the sake of such operators as are not acquainted with perspective, explain why. The figure and the background are supposed to be taken at one and the same time, and the camera has the place of the spectator by whom they are taken. Now, suppose we have a real figure before a real landscape: if I look up at a figure I obtain one view of it, but if I look down on it, I get another and quite a different view, and the horizon of the natural landscape behind the figure is always exactly the height of _my_ eye. To prove this, you may sit down before a window, and mark on the glass the height of the horizon; then rise, and, as you do so, you will find the horizon also rises, and is again exactly opposite your eye. A picture, then, in which the horizontal line of the background represents the spectator as looking up at the figure from a position near the base line, while the figure itself indicates that the same spectator is at that identical time standing with his eyes on a level with the figure's breast or chin--such productions are evidently false to art, and untrue to nature. * * * * The general fault in the painted screens we see behind photographs arises from introducing too many objects." Now, as I advanced neither more nor less in my paper, why does Mr. Wall turn round and caution your readers not to receive such simple truths uttered by me? I was not aware that Mr. Wall had forestalled me in laying down such rules; for at that date I was in America, and did not see the _News_; but, on turning over the volume for 1861 the other day, since this discussion began, I there saw and read, with surprise, the above in his article on backgrounds. I am perfectly aware that I did not say all that I might have said on perspective in my paper; but the little I did say was true in principle, and answered my purpose. When Mr. Wall (in the second paragraph of his last letter) speaks of the "principal visual ray going from the point of distance to the point of sight, and forming a right angle to the perspective plane," it seems to me that he is not quite sure of the difference between the points of _sight_, _distance_, and _observation_, or of the relation and application of one to the other. However, his coming articles on perspective will settle that. It also appears to me that he has overlooked the fact that my diagrams were _sections_, showing the perspective inclination and declination of the lines of a parallelogram towards the point of sight. In my paper I said nothing about the _point of distance_; with that I had nothing to do, as it was not my purpose to go into all the dry details of perspective. But I emphatically deny that anything like a "bird's eye view" of the figure could possibly be obtained by following any of the rules I laid down. In my paper I contended for the camera being placed on a level with the head of the sitter, and that would bring the line of the horizon in a pictorial background also as high as the head of the sitter. And if the horizon of the pictorial background were placed anywhere else, it would cause the apparent overlapping of _two_ conditions of perspective in the resulting photograph. These were the errors I endeavoured to point out. I maintain that my views are perfectly correct, and can be proved by geometrical demonstration, and the highest artistic and scientific testimony. I wish it to be clearly understood that I do not advocate the use of pictorial backgrounds, and think I pretty strongly denounced them; but if they _must_ be used by photographers, either to please themselves or their customers, let them, for the credit of our profession, be as true to nature as possible. I think I have now answered all the points worth considering in Mr. Wall's letter, and with this I beg to decline any further correspondence on the subject.--I am, yours, &c., J. Werge. _March 5th, 1866._ NOTES ON PICTURES IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY. In the following notes on some of the pictures in the National Gallery, it is not my intention to assume the character of an art-critic, but simply to record the impressions produced on the mind of a photographer while looking at the works of the great old masters, with the view of calling the attention of photographers and others interested in art-photography to a few of the pictures which exhibit, in a marked degree, the relation of the horizon to the principal figures. During an examination of those grand old pictures, two questions naturally arise in the mind: What is conventionality in art? and--In whose works do we see it? The first question is easily answered by stating that it is a mode of treating pictorial subjects by established rule or custom, so as to obtain certain pictorial effects without taking into consideration whether such effects can be produced by natural combinations or not. In answer to the second question, it may be boldly stated that there is very little of it to be seen in the works of the best masters; and one cannot help exclaiming, "What close imitators of nature those grand old masters were!" In their works we never see that photographic eye-sore which may be called a binographic combination of two conditions of perspective, or the whereabouts of two horizons in the same picture. The old masters were evidently content with natural combinations and effects for their backgrounds, and relied on the rendering of natural truths more than conventional falsehoods for the strength and beauty of their productions. Perhaps the simplest mode of illustrating this would be to proceed to a kind of photographic analysis of the pictures of the old masters, and see how far the study of their works will enable the photographer to determine what he should employ and what he should reject as pictorial backgrounds in the practice of photography. As a photographer, then--for it is the photographic application of art we have to consider--I will proceed to give my notes on pictures in the National Gallery, showing the importance of having the horizontal line in its proper relation to the sitter or figure. Perhaps the most beautiful example is the fine picture by Annibale Carracci of "Christ appearing to Peter." This admirable work of art as nearly as possible contains the proportions of a carte-de-visite or whole-plate picture enlarged, and is well worthy the careful attention and study of every photographer; not only for its proportions and the amount of landscape background introduced, showing the proper position of the horizon and the small amount of sky visible, but it is a wonderful example of light and shade, foreshortening, variety and contrast of expression, purity of colour, simplicity of design, and truthfulness to nature. Neither of the figures lose any of their force or dignity, although the horizontal line is as high as their heads, and the whole of the space between is filled in with the scene around them. In its linear perspective it is quite in keeping with the figures, and the scenery is in harmonious subjection, controlled and subdued by aerial perspective. The large picture of "Erminia takes refuge with the Shepherds," by the same artist, is also a fine example of a horizon high in the picture. The figure of Erminia is separated from the other figures, and could be copied or reproduced alone without any loss of beauty and dignity, or any violation of natural laws. Murillo's picture of "St. John and the Lamb" suggests an admirable background for the use of the photographer. It consists of dark masses of rock and foliage. Nothing distinct or painfully visible, the distant masses of foliage blend with the clouds, and there is nothing in the background but masses of light and shade to support or relieve the principal objects. In the picture of "Christ appearing to Mary Magdalene," by Titian, the water-line is above the head of Christ, but if the figure were standing upright, the head of the Saviour would break the horizontal line. Titian's "Bacchus and Ariadne" also has the water-line breast high, almost to the neck of Ariadne. The figure of Bacchus springing from the car, as a matter of course, is much higher in the sky. This picture presents the perspective conditions of the painter having been seated while painting such figures from nature, or similar to the results and effects obtained by taking a group with the lens on a level with the breast or lower part of the necks of figures standing. In Titian's portrait of Ariosto there is a dark foliated background which gives great brilliancy to the picture, but no sky is visible. The "Portrait of a Lady," by Paris Bardone, has an architectural background in which no sky is to be seen. The picture is very brilliant, and the monotony of a plain background is skilfully overcome. The picture of "St. Catharine of Alexandria," by Raphael, has a landscape background, with the horizon about as high as the breast, as if the artist had been seated and the model standing during the process of painting. Raphael's picture of "The Vision of a Knight" is another example of the fearlessness of that artist in putting in or backing up his figures with a large amount of landscape background. The proportions of Correggio's "Venus, Mercury, and Cupid," are as nearly as possible those of a carte-de-visite enlarged; and that picture has no sky in the background, but a very suitable dark, cool, rocky scene, well subdued, for the rocks are quite near to the figures. This background gives wonderful brilliancy to the figures, and contrasts admirably with the warm and delicate flesh tints. Correggio's "Holy Family" has a landscape and architectural background, with a very little sky visible in the right-hand corner. In the "Judgment of Paris," by Rubens, the horizontal line of the background cuts the waist of the first female figure, showing that the artist was seated. The other two female figures are placed against a background of rocks and dark masses of foliage. Rubens' picture of the "Holy Family and St. George" is also a good example of the kind of picture for the photographer to study as to the situation of the horizontal line. The picture of "The Idle Servant," by Nicolaes Maes, is also an excellent subject for study of this kind. It shows the due relation of the horizon of an interior in a very marked degree, and its shape and subject are very suitable to the size and form of a carte-de-visite. So are his pictures of "The Cradle" and "A Dutch Housewife." The picture of "John Arnolfini of Lucca and his Wife," painted by John Van Eyck in the fifteenth century, is an excellent specimen of an interior background, with a peep out of a window on one side of the room. This is a capital subject for the study of photographers who wish to use a background representing an interior. "The Holy Family at a Fountain," a picture of the Dutch school, painted by Schoorel in the sixteenth century, has an elaborate landscape background with the horizon above the heads of the figures, as if the artist had been standing and the models sitting. For an example of a portrait less than half-length, with a landscape background, look at the portrait of "An Italian Gentleman," by Andrea da Solario. This picture shows how very conscientiously the old masters worked up to the truth of nature in representing the right amount of landscape in proportion to the figure; but the background is much too hard and carefully worked out to be pleasing. Besides, it is very destructive to the force and power of the picture, which will be at once visible on going to the portraits by Rembrandt, which have a marvellous power, and seem to stand right before the dark atmospheric backgrounds which that artist generally painted in his portraits. There are other examples of half-length portraits with landscape backgrounds, wherein the horizontal line passes right through the eyes of the principal figure, one of which I will mention. It is that of the "Virgin and Child," by Lorenzo di Credi. In this picture the horizontal line passes right through the eyes of the Virgin without interfering with the interest of the chief object. Several examples of an opposite character are to be seen in the National Gallery, with the horizon of the landscape background much too low in the picture. It is needless to call special attention to them. After carefully examining the works already named, and comparing them with the natural effects to be observed daily, it will be quickly seen which is a truthful picture in this respect, and which is a false one. SHARPNESS AND SOFTNESS _V._ HARDNESS. The discussion on "Sharpness: what is it?" at the meeting of the South London Photographic Society in May, 1861, and the more recent discussion on "Focussing" at the last meeting of the same Society, seem to me to have lost much of their value and importance to photographers for want of a better definition of the term _hardness_ as applied to art, and as used by _artists_ in an _artistic sense_. Webster, in his second definition of the word "hardness," gives it as "difficulty to be understood." In that sense Mr. Wall succeeded admirably when he gave the term _concentration_, in reply to Mr. Hughes, who asked Mr. Wall what he meant by _hardness_. Fairholt gives the _art meaning_ of the word as "want of refinement; academic drawing, rather than artistic feeling." But even that definition would not have been sufficiently comprehensive to convey an adequate idea of the meaning of the term in contradistinction to the word _sharpness_, and I cannot but think that Mr. Wall failed in his object in both papers, and lost considerable ground in both discussions, by not giving more attention to the nice distinctions of the two terms as used in art, and explaining their artistic meanings more clearly. Sharpness need not be hardness; on the contrary, sharpness and softness can be harmoniously combined in the representation of any object desired. On the other hand, a subject may possess abundance of detail, and yet convey to the mind an idea of _hardness_ which the artist did not intend. This kind of hardness I should attribute to a miscarriage of thought, or a failure, from want of manipulative skill, to produce the desired effect. For example: one artist will paint a head, model it carefully, and carry out all the gradations of light and shade, and for all that it will be _hard_--hard as stone, resembling the transcript of a painted statue more than flesh. With the same brushes and colours another artist will paint a head that may be no better in its drawing, nor any more correct in its light and shade, but it will resemble _flesh_, and convey to the mind of the observer a correct impression of the substance represented--its flexibility and elasticity--that it is something that would be warm and pleasant to the touch, and not make you recoil from it as if it were something cold, hard, and repulsive, as in the former case. Again, two artists will paint a fabric or an article of furniture (say a table) with the same brushes, pigments, and mediums: the one artist will render it so faithfully in every respect that it would suggest to the mind the dull sound peculiar to wood when struck, and not the sharp, clear ring of metal which the work of the other artist would suggest. Another example: one artist paints a feather, and it appears to have all the feathery lightness and characteristics of the natural object; the other will paint it the same size, form, and colour, and yet it will be more like a painted chip, wanting the downy texture and float-in-the-air suggestiveness of the other. Thus it will be seen that both artists had similar ideas, had similar materials and means at their disposal to render on canvas the same or similar effects. The one succeeded, and the other failed, in giving a faithful rendering of the same subjects; but it was no fault in the materials with which they worked. The works of one artist will convey to the mind an idea of the thing itself; with its texture, properties, weight, and proportions; nothing undervalued; nothing overrated, nothing softer, nothing harder, than the thing in nature intended to be portrayed. The other gives the same idea of form and size, light and shade, and colour, but not the texture; it is something harder, as iron instead of wood, or hard wood instead of soft wood, or stone instead of flesh. This, then, is the artistic meaning of hardness (or concentration, as Mr. Wall said), and that is an apparent packing together, a compression or petrifaction of the atoms or fibre of which the natural materials are composed. This difference in the works of artists is simply the effects of _feeling_, of power over the materials employed, and ability to transfer to canvas effects that are almost illusions. And so it is with photographers in the production of the photographic image. There is the same difference in feeling and manipulative skill, the same difference of power over the materials employed, that enables one photographer to surpass another in rendering more truthfully the difference of texture. Photographers may and do use the same lenses and chemicals, and yet produce widely different results. One, by judgment in lighting and superior manipulation, will transfer to his plates more texture and suggestiveness of the different substances represented than the other. It is a fact well known to old photographers that in the best days of the Daguerreotype practice two widely different classes of pictures were produced by the most skilful _Daguerreotypists_, both sharp and full of exquisite detail; yet the one was _hard_, in an artistic sense, not that it wanted half-tone to link the lights and shades together, but because it was of a bronzy hardness, unlike flesh from which it was taken, and suggested to the mind a picture taken from a bronze or iron statue of the individual, rather than a picture taken from the warm, soft flesh of the original. The other would be equally sharp as far as focussing and _sharp lenses_ could make it, and possess as much detail, but it would be different in colour and texture; the detail would be soft, downy, and fleshy, not irony, if I may use that word in such a sense; and this difference of effect arose entirely from a difference of feeling, lighting, preparation of the plate, and development of the pictures. They might all use the best of Voightlander's or C. C. Harrison's lenses, the favourite lenses of that day. They might all use the same make of plates, the same iodine, bromine, and mercury, yet there would be this difference in the character of the two classes of pictures. Both would be sharp and possess abundance of detail, still one would be _soft_ and the other hard in an artistic acceptation of the word _hardness_. Collodion positives exhibited a similar difference of character. The works of one photographer would be cold and metallic looking, while the works of another would be softer and less metallic, giving a better idea of the texture of flesh and the difference of fabrics, which many attributed to the superiority of the lens; but the difference was really due to manipulation, treatment, and intelligence. And so it is with the collodion negative. A tree, for instance, may be photographed, and its whole character changed by selecting a bad and unsuitable light, or by bad manipulation. The least over-development or "piling up" of a high light may give it a sparkling effect that would change it into the representation of a tree of cast iron, rather than a _growing tree_, covered with damp, soft, and moss-stained bark. Every object and every fabric, natural or manufactured, has its own peculiar form of "high light" or mode of reflecting light, and care must be taken by both artist and photographer not to exceed the amount of light reflected by each particular object, else a _hardness_, foreign to the natural object, will be represented. But not only should the artist and photographer possess this feeling for nature in all her subtle beauties and modes of expressing herself, to prevent a miscarriage in the true rendering of any object, the photographic printer should also have a sympathy for the work in hand, or he will, by over-fixing, or in various other ways, mar the successful labours of the photographer, and make a negative that is full of softness, and tenderly expresses the truth of nature, yield prints that are crude, and convey to the mind a sense of _hardness_ which neither the natural objects nor the negative really possess. Now, I think it will be seen that _hardness_ in a painting or a photograph does not mean sharpness; nor is the artistic meaning of the word _hardness_ confined to "rigid or severe drawing," but that it has a broader and more practical definition than concentration; and that the converse to the art meaning of _hardness_ is softness, tenderness, truthfulness in expressing the varied aspects of nature in all her forms, all of which are coincident with sharpness.--J. Werge (_Photographic News_). UNION OF THE NORTH AND SOUTH LONDON PHOTOGRAPHIC SOCIETIES. _To the Editors, British Journal._ Gentlemen,--Allow me to express my opinion on the suggestion to unite the North and South London Societies, and to point out a few of the advantages which, I think, would accrue from a more extensive amalgamation. Though I am a member of all the three London photographic societies, I have long been of opinion that there are too many, and that the objects of all are considerably weakened by such a diffusion of interests. If the furtherance of the art and the free and mutual interchange of thought and experience among the members were the only things considered, there would be but one society in London; and with one society embodying all the members that now make the three, how much more good might be done! In the first place, the amounts now paid for rent by the three would, if united, secure an excellent meeting room or chambers, in a central position, for the _exclusive_ use of the society, where the ordinary and special meetings, annual exhibitions, and _soirées_ could be held much more independently than now, and at a cost little or no more than what is now paid for the privilege of holding the ordinary meetings alone. Secondly: If such a place of meeting were secured, then that laudable scheme of an art library, so strenuously advocated by Mr. Wall and Mr. Blanchard at the South London Photographic Society, might be successfully carried into effect. Then a library and a collection of works of art might be gradually gathered together, and one of the members could be chosen curator and librarian, to attend the rooms one evening in the week, or oftener, as circumstances might require, so as to give members access to the library to make exchanges, extracts from bulky books, &c. Thirdly: If the union were effected, and the place of meeting more central, there would be a larger attendance of members, and more spirited and valuable proceedings would be the result. Papers to be read at the regular meetings would be much more certain, and the discussions would be more comprehensive and complete. The members would become personally acquainted with each other, and a much better feeling would pervade the whole photographic community. These, gentlemen, are a few of the advantages which ought to accrue from a union of the three societies; but, if that cannot be effected, by all means let the triumvirate now existing be reduced to a biumvirate. If it be not possible for the "Parent Society" and her offspring to reunite their interests and affection for the common good, surely the other two can, and thereby strengthen themselves, and secure to their members a moiety of the advantages which would result from the triple alliance. But, before proceeding farther, let me ask--Has such a thing as a triple alliance ever been considered? Has it been ascertained that an amicable amalgamation with the Photographic Society of London is impossible? If so, what are the motives of the proposers of the union of the North and South London Societies? Do they wish to form a more powerful antagonism to the other society, or do they simply and purely wish to further the advancement of our art-science, and not to gratify personal pique or wounded pride? I do not wish to impute such unworthy motives to anyone; but it does seem singular that the proposition should come from the Chairman of the North London Photographic Association almost simultaneously with the resignation of his seat at the council board of the Parent Society. If, however, the motives are pure, honest, and earnest, I heartily approve of the suggestion as a step in the right direction, although I candidly admit that I would much rather see all the societies united in one, and fully believe that that would be the most advantageous arrangement that could possibly be made for all concerned.--I am, yours, &c., Union Jack (J. Werge). _London, February 18th, 1867._ UNION OF THE LONDON PHOTOGRAPHIC SOCIETIES. _To the Editors of the British Journal._ Gentlemen,--Perhaps I am in courtesy bound to answer the questions of your correspondents, Mr. Homersham and "Blue Pendant," but in self-justification I do not think it necessary, for it turns out that my suspicions of antagonism to the Parent Society were well founded; and, from their remarks, and the observations of your contributor "D.," I learn that the disaffection is more widely spread than I at first thought it was. I may have been wrong in suspecting the Chairman of the North London Photographic Association of unworthy motives; if so, I frankly beg that gentleman's pardon. But I am not wrong in suspecting that antagonism is mixed up with the movement. Your contributor "D." chooses to construe my unwillingness to make a direct charge--my hope that there were no such unworthy motives--into timidity; but I beg to remind "D." that there is not much, if any, of that apparent in my putting the plain questions I did, which, by-the-by, have not yet been very satisfactorily answered. I flatter myself that I know when and how to do battle, and when to sue for peace, as well as any in the service under whose flag I have the honour to sail; and I, as much as anyone, admire the man that can fight courageously when in the right, or apologise gracefully when in the wrong; but, as the object of this correspondence is neither to make recriminations, nor indulge in personal abuse, I return to the primary consideration of the subject, and endeavour to sift the motives of the movers of the proposition to unite the North and South London Societies, and ascertain, if possible, whether they have the good of those societies and the furtherance of photography really at heart or not. _Imprimis_, then, let us consider the arguments of "D.," who cites the resignation of three gentlemen in proof of the management of the London Photographic Society being "out of joint." He might as well say, "because a man is sick, leave him and let him die." If there were anything they disliked in the government of the Society, or any evil to be corrected, their most manly course was to have held on, and fought the evils down. They all had seats at the Council board, and if they had wished well to the Society, they would not have resigned them, but battled for the right, and brought their grievances, real or imagined, before the members. A special meeting has been called before now to consider personal grievances which affected the honour of the Society, and I should think it could have been done again. I do not maintain that all is right in the Society, but I do think that they were wrong in resigning their seats because an article appeared in the Society's journal condemnatory of a process to which they happened to be devotedly attached. It can scarcely be supposed that the cause of reform, or the general good of the country, would have been forwarded had Gladstone, Bright, and Earl Russell resigned their seats as members of either House because they could not carry their ministerial bill of last session. From this I argue that men who have the object they advocate, and the "best interests" of the Society, thoroughly at heart, will stick to it tenaciously, whether in or out of office, and, by their watchfulness, prevent bad becoming worse, in spite of captious opposition, fancied insults, or journalistic abuse. The next paragraph by "D." on which I shall comment contains that bold insinuation of timidity, which I have already noticed as much as I intend to do. But I wish to discuss the question of "absorption" a little more fully. I cannot at all agree with the sentiments of "D." on that subject. Absorption is in many instances a direct and positive advantage to both the absorber and absorbed, as the absorption of Sicily by Italy, and Frankfort and Hanover by Prussia. Nitric acid absorbs silver, and how much more valuable and useful to the photographer is the product than either of the two in their isolated condition; and so, I hold, it would be with the Society were the two other Societies to join the old one, impart to it their chief characteristics, re-model the constitution, and elect the members of the Council by ballot. We should then have a society far more powerful and useful than could ever be obtained by the formation of a new one. In the foregoing, I think I have also answered the question of Mr. Homersham, as well as that part of "Blue Pendant's" letter relating to the establishment of a _fourth_ society. On that point my views harmonise with those of your contributor, "D." On the subject of "members of Council," I do not agree with either "D." or your correspondent "Blue Pendant." The Council should be elected from and by the body of members, and the only qualifications necessary should be willingness and ability to do the work required. No consideration of class should ever be admitted. The members are all recommended by "personal knowledge," and elected by ballot, and that alone should be test sufficient on the score of respectability. Concerning "papers written as puffs," I cordially agree with "Blue Pendant" as far as he goes; but I go further than that, and would insist on each paper being scrutinised, before it is read, by a committee appointed for the purpose, so as to prevent "trade advertisements" and such shamefully scurrilous papers as I have heard at the South London Photographic Society. With reference to the questions put by "Blue Pendant," I beg to decline answering his second, it not being pertinent; but I shall reply to his first more particularly. He seems to have forgotten or overlooked the fact that I thought the advantages I enumerated would result from a union of the _three_ societies--not from an alliance of the two only. That I still look upon suspiciously as antagonistic to the Parent Society; and "Blue Pendant's" antagonism is proved beyond doubt when he says it is "tottering to its fall," and he almost gloatingly looks forward to its dissolution coming, to use his own words, "sooner or later," and "perhaps the sooner the better." But I venture to think that "Blue Pendant" is not likely to be gratified by seeing the "aged Parent" decently laid in the ground in his time. There is too much "life in the old dog yet"--even since the secession--for that to come to pass. It cannot be denied that the Parent Society has amongst its members some of the best speakers, thinkers, writers, and workers in the whole photographic community. While discussing this subject, allow me, gentlemen, to advert to an article in your contemporary of Friday last. In the "Echoes of the Month," by an Old Photographer, the writer thinks that the advantages I pointed out as likely to accrue from a union of the societies are a "pleasant prospect that will not bear the test of figures." It is a fact that "figures" are subject to the rules of addition as well as of subtraction, and I wish to show by figures that my ideas are not so impracticable as he imagines. In addition to the eight guineas a year paid by the North and South London Photographic Societies for rent, I notice in the report of the London Photographic Society, published last month, two items in the "liabilities" which are worth considering. One is "King's College, rent and refreshment, £42 4s. 6d.," which, I presume, is for one year. The other is "King's College _soirée_ account, £20 15s. 6d.," part of which is undoubtedly for rent of rooms on that occasion. Now there is a clear showing of over £50 12s. 6d. paid in one year by the three societies for rent and refreshment, the latter not being absolutely necessary. I may be mistaken in my estimate of the value of central property; but I do think a sum exceeding £50 is sufficient to secure a room or chambers large enough for the purposes of meeting, and keeping a library, &c.; or, if not, would it not be worth while making a strain to pay a little more so as to secure the accommodation required? If the Coventry Street experiment were a failure from apathy or other causes, that is no proof that another attempt made by a more numerous, wealthy, and energetic body would also be abortive. In sea phraseology, "the old ship has made a long leg to-day!" but I hope, gentlemen, you will not grudge the space required for the full and careful consideration of this subject. The "developing dish" and the ordinary _modus operandi_ of photography can well afford to stand aside for awhile to have this question discussed to the end. I have not said all I can on the amalgamation project, and may return to it again with your kind permission, if necessary.--I am, yours, &c., Union Jack (J. Werge). _London, March 4, 1867._ THE SOCIETY'S EXHIBITION. Impressions and Convictions of "Lux Graphicus." The brief and all but impromptu Exhibition of the Photographic Society, recently held in the rooms of the Architectural Society, 9, Conduit Street, Regent Street, where the Society's meetings are to be held in future, was one of the pleasantest and most useful expositions in connection with photography that has been consummated for many years. In the first place the idea of an exhibition evening free from the formalities of a _soirée_ was a happy one; the _locale_ was happily chosen; and the whole arrangements most happily successful. Everybody seemed to be pleased; cordial expressions of agreeable surprise were freely exchanged; and there were abundance and variety enough of pictorial display to satisfy the most fastidious visitor. As might have been expected, the works of M. Salomon, exhibited by Mr. Wharton Simpson, were the chief objects of attraction, and during the whole of the evening an anxious group surrounded the collection; and it was curious to remark with what eagerness these pictures were scrutinized, so as to ascertain whether they were examples of photography "pure and undefiled," or helped by artistic labour afterwards. That they are the very finest specimens of art-photography--both in the broad and masterly treatment of light and shade, pose, manipulation, tone of print, and after finish--that have ever been exhibited, is unquestionable; but to suppose that they are photographs unaided by art-labour afterwards is, I think, a mistake. All of the heads, hands, and portions of the drapery bear unmistakable proofs of after-touching. Some of them give evidence of most elaborate retouching on the hands and faces, on the surface of the print. I examined the pictures by daylight most minutely with the aid of a magnifying glass, and could detect the difference between the retouching on the negative, and, after printing, on the positive. The faces of nearly all the ladies present that appearance of dapple or "stipple" which nothing in the texture of natural flesh can give, unless the sitter were in the condition of "goose flesh" at the moment of sitting, which is a condition of things not at all likely. Again, hatching is distinctly visible, which is not the photographic reproduction of the hatch-like line of the cuticle. In support of that I have two forms of evidence: first, _comparison_, as the hatchings visible on the surface of the print are too long to be a reproduction of the hatch-like markings of the skin, even on the hands, which generally show that kind of nature's handiwork the most. Besides, the immense reduction would render that invisible even under a magnifying glass, no matter how delicate the deposit of silver might be on the negative; or even if it were so, the fibre of the paper would destroy the effect. Again, the hatchings visible are not the form of nature's hatchings, but all partake of that art-technical form called "sectional hatchings." I could name several of the prints that showed most conclusive evidence of what I say, but that is not necessary, because others saw these effects as well as I did. But I wish it to be distinctly understood that I have not been at the pains to make these examinations and observations with the view of lessening the artistic merit of these pictures. I unhesitatingly pronounce them the most beautiful achievements of the camera that have ever been obtained by combining artistic knowledge and skill with the mechanical aid of the camera and ability to handle the compounds of photographic chemistry. There is unmistakable evidence of the keenest appreciation of art, and all that is beautiful in it in the production of the negative; and if the artist see or think that he can perfect his work by the aid of the brush, he has a most undoubted right to do it. This question of pure and simple photography has been mooted all the summer, ever since the opening of the French Exhibition, and I am glad that I, as well as others, have had an opportunity of seeing these wonderful pictures, and judging for myself. Photography is truth embodied, and every question raised about the purity of its productions should be discussed as freely and settled as quickly as possible. There was another picture in the exhibition very clever in its conception, but not so in its execution, and I am sorry to say I cannot endorse _all_ the good that has been said of it. I allude to Mr. Robinson's picture of "Sleep." How that clever photographer, with such a keen eye to nature as he generally manifests in his composition pictures, should have committed such a mistake I am at a loss to know. His picture of "Sleep" is so strangely untrue to nature, that he must have been quite overcome by the "sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of _care_" when he composed it. In the centre of the picture he shows a stream of light entering a window--a ghost of a window, for it is so unsubstantial as not to allow a shadow to be cast from its _seemingly_ massive bars. Now, if the moon shone through a window at all, it would cast shadows of everything that stood before it, and the shadows of the bars of the window would be cast upon the coverlet of the bed in broken lines, rising and falling with the undulations of the folds of the covering, and the forms of the figures of the children. In representing moonlight, or sunlight either, there is no departing from this truth. If the direct ray of either stream through a closed window and fall upon the bed, so will the shadows of the intervening bars. Any picture, either painted or photographed, that does not render those shadows is simply untrue to nature; and if the difficulty could not have been overcome, the attempt should have been abandoned. Then the beams are not sharp enough for moonlight, and the shadows on the coverlet and children are not deep enough, and the reflections on the shadow side of the children's faces are much too strong. In short, I do not know when Mr. Robinson more signally failed to carry out his first intentions. Wanting in truth as the composition is, it proves another truth, and that is, the utter inability of photography to cope with such a subject. Mr. Robinson exhibited other pictures that would bear a very different kind of criticism; but as they have been noticed at other times I shall not touch upon them here. Herr Milster's picture bears the stamp of truth upon it, and is a beautiful little gem, convincing enough that the effect is perfectly natural. Mr. Ayling's pictures of the Victoria Tower and a portion of Westminster Abbey are really wonderful, and the bit of aerial perspective "Across the Water" in the former picture is truly beautiful. Mrs. Cameron persists in sticking to the out-of-the-way path she has chosen, but where it will lead her to at last is very difficult to determine. One of the heads of Henry Taylor which she exhibited was undoubtedly the best of her contributions. The pictures of yachts and interiors exhibited by Mr. Jabez Hughes were quite equal to all that could be expected from the camera of that clever, earnest, and indefatigable photographer. The portrait enlargements exhibited by that gentleman were exquisite, and of a totally different character from any other exhibitor's. Mr. England's dry plate pictures, by his modified albumen process, are undoubtedly the best of the kind that have been taken. They lack that appearance of the representation of _petrified_ scenes that most, if not all, previous dry processes exhibited, and look as "juicy" as "humid nature" can well be rendered with the wet process. Mr. Frank Howard exhibited four little gems that would be perfect but for the unnatural effect of the artificial skies he has introduced. The "Stranded Vessels" is nicely chosen, and one of the wood scenes is like a bit of Creswick uncoloured. Messrs. Locke and Whitfield exhibited some very finely and sketchily coloured photographs, quite up to their usual standard of artistic excellence, with the new feature of being painted on a ground of carbon printed from the negative by the patent carbon process of Mr. J. W. Swan. Mr. Adolphus Wing's cabinet pictures were very excellent specimens, and I think it a great pity that more of that very admirable style of portraiture was not exhibited. Mr. Henry Dixon's copy of Landseer's dog "Pixie," from the original painting, was very carefully and beautifully rendered. Mr. Faulkner's portraits, though of a very different character, were quite equal in artistic excellence to M. Salomon's. Mr. Bedford's landscapes presented their usual charm, and the tone of his prints seemed to surpass the general beauty of his every-day work. Mr. Blanchard also exhibited some excellent landscapes, and displayed his usual happy choice of subject and point of sight. An immense number of photographs by amateurs, Mr. Brownrigg, Mr. Beasley, and others, were exhibited in folios and distributed about the walls, but it is impossible for me to describe or criticise more. I have already drawn my yarn a good length, and shall conclude by repeating what I said at starting, that a pleasanter evening, or more useful and instructive exhibition, has never been got up by the Photographic Society of London, and it is to be hoped that the success and _éclat_ attending it will encourage them to go and do likewise next year, and every succeeding one of its natural life, which I doubt not will be long and prosperous, for the exhibition just closed has given unmistakable evidence of there being "life in the old dog yet." _Photographic News, Nov. 22nd, 1867._ THE USE OF CLOUDS IN LANDSCAPES. The subject of printing skies and cloud effects from separate negatives having been again revived by the reading of papers on that subject at the South London Photographic Society, I think it will not be out of place now to call attention to some points that have not been commented upon--or, at any rate, very imperfectly--by either the readers of the papers or by the speakers at the meetings, when the subject was under discussion. The introduction of clouds in a landscape by an artist is not so much to fill up the blank space above the object represented on the lower part of the canvas or paper, as to assist in the composition of the picture, both as regards linear and aerial perspective, and in the arrangement of light and shade, so as to secure a just balance and harmony of the whole, according to artistic principles. Clouds are sometimes employed to repeat certain lines in the landscape composition, so as to increase their strength and beauty, and to unite the terrestrial part of the picture with the celestial. At other times they are used to balance a composition, both in form and effect, to prevent the picture being divided into two distinct and diagonal portions, as evidenced in many of the pictures by Cuyp; on other occasions they are introduced solely for chiaroscuro effects, so as to enable the artist to place masses of dark upon light, and _vice versa_. Of that use I think the works of Turner will afford the most familiar and beautiful examples. In the instances cited, I make no allusion to the employment of clouds as repeaters of colour, but merely confine my remarks to their use in assisting to carry out form and effect, either in linear composition, or in the arrangement of light and shade in simple monochrome, as evidenced in the engraved translations of the works of Rembrandt, Turner, Birket Foster, and others, the study of those works being most applicable to the practice of photography, and, therefore, offering the most valuable hints to both amateur and professional photographers in the management of their skies. Before pursuing this part of my subject further, it may be as well, perhaps, to state my general opinions of the effects of so-called "natural skies," obtained by one exposure and one printing. Admitting that they are a vast improvement on the white-sky style of the early ages of photography, they fall far short of what they should be in artistic effect and arrangement. In nearly all the "natural skies" that I have seen, their office appears to be no other than to use up the white paper above the terrestrial portion of the picture. The masses of clouds, if there, seem always in the wrong place, and never made use of for breadth of chiaroscuro. No better illustrations of this can be adduced than those large photographs of Swiss and Alpine scenery by Braun of Dornach, which nearly all contain "natural clouds;" but, on looking them over, it will be seen that few (if any) really exhibit that artistic use of clouds in the composition of the pictures which evidence artistic knowledge. The clouds are taken just as they happen to be, without reference to their employment to enhance the effects of any of the objects in the lower portion of the view, or as aids to the composition and general effect. For the most part, the clouds are small and spotty, ill-assorting with the grandeur of the landscapes, and never assisting the chiaroscuro in an artistic sense. The most noticeable example of the latter defect may be seen in the picture entitled "Le Mont Pilate," wherein a bald and almost white mountain is placed against a light sky, much to the injury of its form, effect, and grandeur; indeed, the mountain is barely saved from being lost in the sky, although it is the principal object in the picture. Had an artist attempted to paint such a subject, he would have relieved such a large mass of light against a dark cloud. An example of a different character is observable in another photograph, wherein a dark conical mount would have been much more artistically rendered had it been placed against a large mass of light clouds. There are two or three fleecy white clouds about the summit of the mountain, but, as far as pictorial effect goes, they would have been better away, for the mind is left in doubt whether they are really clouds, or the sulphurous puffs that float about the crater of a slumbering volcano. That photographs possessing all the effects required by the rules of art are difficult, and almost impossible to obtain at one exposure in the camera, I readily allow. I know full well that a man might wait for days and weeks before the clouds would arrange themselves so as to relieve his principal object most advantageously; and, even if the desirable effects of light and shade were obtained, the chances are that the forms would not harmonize with the leading lines of the landscape. This being the case, then, it must be self-evident that the best mode of procedure will be to _print in skies_ from separate negatives, either taken from nature or from drawings made for the purpose by an artist that thoroughly understands art in all its principles. By these means, especially the latter, skies may be introduced into the photographic picture that will not only be adapted to each individual scene, but will, in every instance where they are employed, increase the artistic merit and value of the composition. But to return to the subject chiefly under consideration. Clouds in landscape pictures, like "man in his time," play many parts--"they have their exits and their entrances." And it is almost impossible to say enough in a short paper on a subject so important to all landscape photographers. I will, however, as briefly and lucidly as I can, endeavour to point out the chief uses of clouds in landscapes. Referring to their use for effects in light and shade, I wrote, at the commencement of this paper, that the engraved translations of Turner afford the most familiar and beautiful examples, which they undoubtedly do. But when I consider that Turner's skies are nearly all sunsets, the study of them will not be so readily turned to practical account by the photographer as the works of others,--Birket Foster, for instance. His works are almost equal to Turner's in light and shade; he has been largely employed in the illustration of books, and five shillings will procure more of his beautiful examples of sky effects than a guinea will of Turner's. Take, for example, Sampson Low and Son's five shilling edition of Bloomfield's "Farmer's Boy," or Gray's "Elegy in a Churchyard," profusely illustrated almost entirely by Birket Foster; and in them will be seen such a varied and marvellous collection of beautiful sky effects as seem almost impossible to be the work of one man, and all of them profitable studies for both artist and photographer in the varied uses made of clouds in landscapes. In those works it will be observed that where the lower part of the picture is rich in variety of subject the sky is either quiet or void of form, partaking of one tint only slightly broken up. Where the terrestrial part of the composition is tame, flat, and destitute of beautiful objects, the sky is full of beauty and grandeur, rich in form and masses of light and shade, and generally shedding a light on the insignificant object below, so as to invest it with interest in the picture, and connect it with the story being told. From both of these examples the photographer may obtain a suggestion, and slightly tint the sky of his picture, rich in objects of interest, so as to resemble the tint produced by the "ruled lines" representing a clear blue sky in an engraving. Hitherto that kind of tinting has generally been overdone, giving it more the appearance of a heavy fog lifting than a calm blue sky. The darkest part of the tint should just be a little lower than the highest light on the principal object. This tint may either be obtained in the negative itself at the time of exposure, or produced by "masking" during the process of printing. On the other hand, when the subject has little to recommend it in itself, it may be greatly increased in pictorial power and interest by a judicious introduction of beautiful cloud effects, either obtained from nature, or furnished by the skill of an artist. If the aid of an artist be resorted to, I would not recommend painting on the negative, but let the artist be furnished with a plain white-sky print; let him wash in a sky, in sepia or india ink, that will most harmonise, both in form and effect, with the subject represented, take a negative from that sky alone, and put it into each of the pictures by double printing. This may seem a great deal of trouble and expense, and not appear to the minds of some as altogether legitimate, but I strenuously maintain that any means employed to increase the artistic merit and value of a photograph is strictly legitimate; and that wherever and however art can be resorted to, without doing violence to the truthfulness of nature, the status of our art-science will be elevated, and its professional disciples will cease to be the scorn of men who take pleasure in deriding the, sometimes--may I say too often?--lame and inartistic productions of the camera. THE USE OF CLOUDS AS BACKGROUNDS IN PORTRAITURE. There has long been in the world an aphorism that everything in Nature is beautiful. Collectively this is true, and so it is individually, so far as the adaptability and fitness of the object to its proper use are concerned; but there are many things which are truly beautiful in themselves, and in their natural uses, which cease to be so when they are pressed into services for which they are not intended by the great Creator of the universe. For example, what can be more beautiful than that compound modification of cloud forms commonly called a "mackerel sky," which is sometimes seen on a summer evening? What can be more lovely, or more admirably adapted to the purposes of reflecting and conducting the last flickering rays of the setting sun into the very zenith, filling half the visible heavens with a fretwork of gorgeous crimson, reflecting a warm, mysterious light on everything below, and filling the mind with wonder and admiration at the marvellous beauties which the heavens are showing? Yet, can anything be more unsuitable for forming the background to a portrait, where everything should be subdued, secondary, and subservient to the features of the individual represented--where everything should be lower in tone than the light on the face, where neither colour nor light should be introduced that would tend to distract the attention of the observer--where neither accessory nor effect should appear that does not help to concentrate the mind on the grand object of the picture--the likeness? Still, how often do we see a photographic portrait stuck against a sky as spotty, flickering, and unsuitable as the one just described! How seriously are the importance and brilliancy of the head interfered with by the introduction of such an unsuitable background! How often is the interest of the spectator divided between the portrait and the "overdone" sky, so elaborately got up by the injudicious background painter! Such backgrounds are all out of place, and ought to be abandoned--expelled from every studio. As the photographer does not possess the advantages of the painter, to produce his effects by contrast of colour, it behoves him to be much more particular in his treatment of light and shade; but most particularly in his choice of a background that will most harmonise with the dress, spirit, style, and condition in life of his sitter. It is always possible for a member of any class of the community to be surrounded or relieved by a plain, quiet background; but it is not possible, in nine cases out of ten, for some individuals who sit for their portraits ever to be dwellers in marble halls, loungers in the most gorgeous conservatories, or strollers in such delightful gardens. In addition to the unfitness of such scenes to the character and every-day life of the sitter, they are the most unsuitable for pictorial effect that can possibly be employed. For, instead of directing attention to the principal object, they disturb the mind, and set it wandering all over the picture, and interfere most seriously with that quiet contemplation of the features which is so necessary to enable the beholder to discover all the characteristic points in the portrait. When the likeness is a very bad one, this may be advantageous, on the principle of putting an ornamental border round a bad picture with the view of distracting the attention of the observer, and preventing the eye from resting long enough on any one spot to discover the defects. When clouds are introduced as backgrounds to portraits, they should not be of that small, flickering character previously alluded to, but broad, dark, and "massy," so as to impart by contrast more strength of light to the head; and the lighter parts of the clouds should be judiciously placed either above or below the head, so as to carry the light into other parts of the picture, and prevent the strongly-lighted head appearing a spot. The best examples of that character will be found in the engraved portraits by Reynolds, Lawrence, Gainsborough, and others, many of which are easily obtained at the old print shops; some have appeared in the _Art Journal_. As guides for introducing cloud effects, accessories, and landscape bits into the backgrounds of carte-de-visite and cabinet pictures, no better examples can be cited than those exquisite little figure subjects by R. Westall, R.A., illustrating Sharpe's Editions of the Old Poets. The engravings are about the size of cartes-de-visite, and are in themselves beautiful examples of composition, light, and shade, and appropriateness of accessory to the condition and situation of the figures, affording invaluable suggestions to the photographer in the arrangement of his sitter, or groups, and in the choice of suitable accessories and backgrounds. Such examples are easily obtained. Almost any old bookstall in London possesses one or more of those works, and each little volume contains at least half-a-dozen of these exquisite little gems of art. Looking at those beautiful photographic cartes-de-visite by Mr. Edge, I am very strongly impressed with the idea that they were suggested by some such artistic little pictures as Westall's Illustrations of the Poets. They are really charming little photographs, and show most admirably how much the interest and artistic merit of a photograph can be enhanced by the skilful and judicious introduction of a suitable background. I may as well observe, _en passant_, that I have examined these pictures very carefully, and have come to the conclusion that the effects are not produced by means of any of the ingeniously contrived appliances for poly-printing recently invented and suggested, but that the effects are produced simply by double printing, manipulated with consummate care and judgment, the figure or figures being produced on a plain or graduated middle tint background in one negative, and the landscape effect printed on from another negative after the first print has been taken out of the printing-frame; the figures protected by a mask nicely adjusted. My impressions on this subject are strengthened almost to conviction when I look at one of Mr. Edge's photographs, in particular a group of two ladies, the sitting figure sketching. In this picture, the lower part of the added landscape--trees--being darker than the normal tint of the ground, shows a _line_ round the black dress of the lady, as if the mask had overlapped it just a hair's breadth during the process of secondary printing. Be that as it may, they are lovely little pictures, and afford ample evidence of what may be done by skill and taste to vary the modes of treating photography more artistically, by introducing natural scenery sufficiently subdued to harmonise with the portrait or group; and, by similar means, backgrounds of clouds and interiors may be added to a plain photograph, which would enrich its pictorial effect, and enable the photographer to impart to his work a greater interest and beauty, and, at the same time, be made the means of giving apparent occupation to his sitter. This mode of treatment would enable him, in a great measure, to carry out the practice of nearly all the most celebrated portrait painters, viz., that of considering the form, light, shade, and character of the background _after_ the portrait was finished, by adapting the light, shade, and composition of his background to the pose and condition of life of his sitter. I shall now conclude my remarks with a quotation from Du Fresnoy's "Art of Painting," bearing directly on my subject and that of light and shade:-- "Permit not two conspicuous lights to shine With rival radiance in the same design; But yield to one alone the power to blaze, And spread th' extensive vigour of its rays; There where the noblest figures are displayed, Thence gild the distant parts and lessening fade; As fade the beams which Phoebus from the east Flings vivid forth to light the distant West, Gradual those vivid beams forget to shine, So gradual let thy pictured lights decline." * * * * * "LUX GRAPHICUS" ON THE WING. Dear Mr. Editor,--I have often troubled you with some of my ideas and opinions concerning the progress and status of photography, and you have pretty often transferred the same to the columns of the _Photographic News_, and troubled your readers in much the same manner. This time, however, I am going to tell you a secret--a family secret. They are always more curious, interesting, and important than other secrets, state secrets and Mr. McLachlan's photographic secret not excepted. But to my subject: "_The_ Secret." Well, dear Mr. Editor, you know that my vocations have been rather arduous for some time past, and I feel that a little relaxation from pressing cares and anxieties would be a great boon to me. You know, also, that I am a great lover of nature, almost a stickler for it, to the exclusion of _prejudicial art_. And now that the spring has come and winter has fled on the wings of the fieldfares and woodcocks--that's Thomas Hood's sentiment made seasonable--I fain would leave the pent-up city, where the colour of the sky can seldom be seen for the veil of yellow smoke which so constantly obscures it, and betake myself to the country, and inhale the fresh breezes of early spring; gladden my heart and eyes with a sight of the bright blue sky, the glistening snowdrops and glowing yellow crocuses, and regale my ears and soul with the rich notes of the thrush and blackbird, and the earliest song of the lark at the gates of heaven. It is a pleasant thing to be able to shake off the mud and gloom of a winter's sojourn in a town, in the bright, fresh fields of the country, and bathe your fevered and enfeebled body in the cool airs of spring, as they come gushing down from the hills, or across the rippling lake, or dancing sea. I always had such a keen relish for the country at all seasons of the year, it is often a matter of wonder to me that I ever could bring my mind to the necessity of living in a town. But bread and butter do not grow in hedgerows, though "bread and cheese" do; still the latter will not support animal life of a higher order than grub or caterpillars. "There's the rub." The mind is, after all, the slave of the body, for the mind must bend to the requirements of the body; and, as a man cannot live by gazing at a "colt's foot," and if he have no appetite for horseflesh, he is obliged to succumb to his fate, and abide in a dingy, foggy, slushy, and bewildering world of mud, bricks, and mortar, instead of revelling in the bright fields, fresh air, and gushing melodies which God created for man, and gave man senses to enjoy his glorious works. But, Mr. Editor, I am mentally wandering among "cowslips," daises, buttercups, and wild strawberry blossoms, and forgetting the stern necessity of confining my observations to a subject coming reasonably within the range of a class journal which you so ably conduct; but it is pardonable and advantageous to allow mind to run before matter sometimes, for the latter is more frequently inert than the former, and when the mind has gone _ahead_, the body is sure to follow. Melancholy instances of that present themselves to our notice too frequently. For example, when a poor lady's or gentleman's wits are gone, _lettres des cachets_, and some kind or _un_kind friends, send the witless body to some retreat where the wits of all the inmates are gone. I must, however, in all sober earnestness, return to my subject, or I fear you will say: "He is going to Hanwell." Well, perhaps I am, for I know that photography is practised at that admirable institution; and now that I have struck a professional chord, I may as well play on it. Lenses and cameras, like birds and flowers, reappear in spring, and, as the season advances and the sun attains a higher altitude, amateurs and professionals are quickened into a surprising activity. Renewed life is imparted to them, and the gregarious habits of man are developed in another form, and somewhat in the manner that the swallows return to their old haunts. At first, a solitary scout or reconnoitering party makes his appearance, then another, and another, until a complete flock of amateur and professional photographers are abroad, seeking what food they can devour: some preferring the first green "bits of foliage" that begin to gem the woods with emeralds, others waiting till the leaf is fully out, and the trees are thickly clothed in their early summer loveliness: while others prefer a more advanced state of beauty, and like to depict nature in her russet hues, when the trees "are in their yellow leaf." Some are contented with the old-fashioned homesteads and sweet green lanes of England for their subjects; others prefer the ruined abbeys and castles of the feudal ages, with their deeply interesting associations; others choose the more mythical monuments of superstition and the dark ages, such as King Arthur's round tables, druidical circles, and remains of their rude temples of stone. Some delight in pictorializing the lakes and mountains of the north, while others are not satisfied with anything short of the sublime beauty and terrific grandeur of the Alps and Pyrenees. Truly, sir, I think it may be safely stated that photographers are lovers of nature, and, I think, they are also lovers of art. If some of them do not possess that art knowledge which is so necessary for them to pursue advantageously either branch of their profession, it is much to be regretted; but there is now no reason why they should continue in darkness any longer. I know that it requires years of study and practice to become an artist, but it does not require a very great amount of mental labour or sacrifice of time to become an artistic photographer. A little hard study of the subject as it appears in the columns of your journal and those of your contemporaries--for I notice that they have _all_ suddenly become alive to the necessity of imparting to photographers a knowledge of art principles--will soon take the scales off the eyes of a man that is blind in art, and enable him to comprehend the mysteries of lines, unity, and light and shade, and give him the power to compose his subject as readily as he could give a composing draught to an infant, and teach him to determine at a glance the light, shade, and atmospheric effects that would most harmonize with the scene to be represented. Supposing that he is master of the mechanical manipulations of photography, he has acquired half the skill of the artist; and by studying and applying the rules of composition and light and shade to his mechanical skill, he is then equal to the artist in the treatment of his subject, so far as the means he employs will or can enable him to give an art rendering of nature, fixed and immovable. I do not profess to be a teacher, but I do think it is much more genial in spirit, and becoming the dignity of a man, to impart what little knowledge he has to others, than to scoff at those who do not know so much. If, therefore, Mr. Editor, in the course of my peregrinations, I see an opportunity of calling your attention, and, through you, the attention of others, to any glaring defects or absurdities in the practice of our dearly beloved art, I shall not hesitate to do so; not, however, with any desire to carp and cavil at them for cavilling's sake, but with the more laudable desire of pointing them out, that they may be avoided. During the coming summer I shall have, or hope to have, many opportunities of seeing and judging, and will endeavour to keep you duly advised of what is passing before me. My letters may come from all parts--N., E., W., and S.--so that they will, in that sense at least, harmonize with the nomenclature of your periodical. Where I may be at the date of my writing, the post-mark will reveal to you. And now I must consider my signature: much is in a name, you know. I can hardly call myself your "Special Correspondent"--that would be too much _a la Sala_; nor can I subscribe myself an "Old Photographer," for that would be taking possession of another man's property, and might lead to confusion, if not to difficulties; neither can I style myself a "Peripatetic Photographer"--though I am one--for that name sometimes appears in the columns of a contemporary; and my own name is such a long one, consisting of nearly half the letters of the alphabet. Well, I think, all things considered, I cannot do better than retain my old _nom de plume_. And with many apologies for this long, roundabout paper, and every expression of regard, I beg to subscribe myself your obliged and humble servant, Lux Graphicus (J. Werge). _March 27th, 1868._ * * * * * "LUX GRAPHICUS" ON THE WING. Oxford and Cambridge--Cabinet Portraits--Mr. McLachlan's Secret. Dear Mr. Editor,--Do not let the above heading alarm you. I have no desire to convert the columns of your valuable journal into a kind of photographic _Bell's Life_ or _Sporting Chronicle_. Although the great University boat race has just been decided for the eighth consecutive time in favour of Oxford, it is not of that aquatic struggle that I am going to write, but of another matter in which the Cantabs seem to be behind the Oxonians in the race of life, or the pursuit of novelties. Not only are the Cantabs short in their stroke with the oars, and unable to obtain the first place in the contests on the Thames, they are also slow in giving their orders for a certain article of commerce which is of very great importance to professional photographers, especially those in the neighbourhood of the University of Cambridge. It is a remarkable fact, that while Oxford has gone in with a rush for those very charming portraits technically named "cabinets," Cambridge holds aloof. How is this, I wonder. There are as good photographers in Cambridge--Mr. Mayland, to wit, whose work is all of the first class--as in Oxford; the sun shines as brightly in the region of the Cam as he does in that of the Isis. Have the Cantabs made up their minds not to be _cabinet_ men in opposition to Oxford? or is the fact due to the lukewarmness of the Cambridge photographers themselves? It seems somewhat strange that two places likely to be so similar in tastes and a refined appreciation of the beautiful should so differ in this respect. Are the men of the two great seats of learning in this country opposed in matters of photographic proportion as they are in other matters of minor importance--as in the proper pronunciation of either and neither, for instance? Not having graduated at either, I do not know which is correct, neither do I care; but I am concerned in this question of photography. While at Oxford the cabinet picture has taken deep root, and has grown into a strong and vigorous article of demand, it is a well-known fact that at Cambridge it is "sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought," and languishes on in a state trembling between life and death. Whether the producers or consumers are to blame for this langour in the demand for an article that is certainly worth being cultivated, is more than I can say. I know that the discrepancy exists, and the rest I leave to those most immediately interested. It cannot, however, be supposed that a demand for any particular size or style can spring up spontaneously; that must be created by the producer, by popularising the style in some attractive and judicious manner, and the cabinet size is well deserving of a very strenuous effort being made in its favour. Of all the photographic sizes that have been introduced to the public, the cabinet is the most artistic in its proportions. As nearly as possible it falls under that art rule of producing an oblong or parallelogram of the most agreeable proportions, which is as the diagonal is to the square. The size of the cabinet is 5-1/2 by 4, and if you measure the diagonal of the square of 4 inches, you will find that the length of the cabinet, 5-1/2 inches, is as near that as possible. Doubtless Mr. Window had this in view when he introduced the size, and whether for upright or horizontal pictures, such proportions are decidedly the best. Many of the sizes already in use are too long, others are too short and square. In addition to the beautiful proportions of the cabinet size, it gives the portrait photographer more room and opportunities to introduce harmonious forms and effects in the posing and arrangements of portraits and groups; and I have seen some very charming views on the cabinet size, 5-1/2 by 4 inches horizontally; as well as some very beautiful interiors of Westminster Abbey, by Mr. V. Blanchard, on the cabinet cards vertical, which proves pretty conclusively that the proportions of the diagonal to the square of any size will suit both vertical and horizontal pictures. I have not the least doubt but a much greater demand for those cabinet pictures, both portrait and landscape, could be created, if photographers would set about introducing them with a will: depend upon it if they will but put their heart into the matter, they would put money into their pockets. I know how much has been done by launching them fearlessly on the sea of public patronage in several localities, and I feel certain the demand would be much more general if the cabinet picture were judiciously introduced. Mr. H. P. Robinson and Mr. Nelson K. Cherrill, having entered into partnership, are on the point of opening a photographic establishment at Tunbridge Wells, where they intend to incur considerable expense to introduce the cabinet portrait, and give it that prominence it so justly merits. Since writing you last, I learn from a friend who is intimate with Mr. McLachlan that there is every possibility of his secret being revealed ere long. That this secret formula will be an immense boon to all photographers, there can be little doubt. If an absolute immunity from streaks in the direction of the dip, brain-markings, and pinholes--which are the advantages said to be derived from the process--can be guaranteed, then will the manipulatory part of photography be at once made easy; and Mr. McLachlan will have conferred a personal obligation on every photographic manipulator. Not only will photographers be benefitted by Mr. McLachlan's generous conduct, the whole world will participate in the advantages he intends to place as a gift in the hands of photographers; and even _art_, that is so afraid of a photographic amalgamation, will be _honoured_ by the revelation. But once let the mind of the operator be for ever free from the cares and anxieties of his negative being clean, spotless, and excellent in quality, he will then have more time and inclination to put his art knowledge, if he have any, into practice, by paying more attention to the pose of his sitters and the artistic choice and arrangement of accessories. If he be without art knowledge he will be obliged to acquire it and put it into practice, or be driven out of his field of operations. For, if the chemical difficulties and uncertainties are to be so summarily disposed of, and all the manipulations reduced to a certainty and dead level, a pre-eminence in the profession can only be maintained by him who exhibits a taste, feeling, and love for his labours superior to the desire to palm upon the public, for mere gain, works that are a disgrace and a scandal to the profession of which he is a member. That such a condition of things photographic may be quickly brought about is much to be desired, and if such be the result of Mr. McLachlan's very noble willingness to give to the photographic community experiences that have cost him much time and money in acquiring by close observation and experiment, he will, at the least, be entitled to the sincere and hearty acknowledgments of all well-wishers and lovers of our art-science. _Apropos_ of clean and easy development, I should like to know if any of your numerous readers have tried the effect of sulphate of zinc with the iron developer. I understand its use obviates the necessity of using acetic acid as a retardant; that the deposit of silver is much more delicate than that produced by iron alone; that the control over it is very great; that any amount of intensity can be obtained by one or more applications, without the aid of pyrogallic acid, and without producing harshness or hardness. With such recommendations it is certainly worth a trial. I have had no time to try it myself, but think it is of sufficient importance to give your readers an opportunity of experimenting with it, and judging for themselves. _Photographic News, April 10th, 1868._ * * * * * "LUX GRAPHICUS" ON THE WING. The Late Lord Brougham--New Fields for Photography--Natural Objects Coloured--The Monochrome and Autotype--Mr. McLachlan again. Death has just swept away one of the most gigantic intellects of the nineteenth century. For me to state what the late Lord Brougham was, or attempt to enumerate his vast attainments, or measure the strength of his colossal mind, would be a piece of intolerable presumption; but I think I may safely say that he was an enthusiastic admirer of photography. Years ago, in the midst of his parliamentary and other pressing duties, whenever he could find time to enjoy the quiet of Brougham Hall, near Penrith, his giant mind was not above indulging in the delightful relaxation it afforded; and many a pleasant hour he used to spend chatting with Mr. Jacob Thompson, an artist of great ability, and also a very early amateur photographer, on the wonderful results obtained by the new art. The late Lord Brougham began his literary career by publishing a treatise on "Light," before photography was known or thought to be practicable; in after life he interested himself in its marvellous productions, and his last literary labour was also about light. Not only did the great statesman "know a little of everything," he did a little in everything. The deceased lord took a lively interest in the progress of photography during his lifetime, from its earliest introduction to within a short period of his death; and it would have been a graceful and fitting compliment to the memory of the great man of law, politics, literature, and science, if the English newspapers had embellished their memoirs of the late Lord Brougham with a photographic portrait of his lordship. Such a thing is quite practicable, and has been done successfully by our more enterprising confrères in Canada and the United States. The _Montreal Weekly Herald_ of April 18th illustrates its memoir of the late Mr. T. d'Arcy McGhee with a very excellent carte-de-visite portrait of the lamented and unfortunate Canadian Minister, mounted on the upper corner of the front page, surrounded with a deep black border. What an appropriate accompaniment such a presentation would have been to the able articles and memoirs which appeared in the daily press on Monday, May 11th, 1868! How much more interesting and valuable those clever biographical sketches of great men, as they pass away to their rest, which appear in the _Daily Telegraph_ and other daily and weekly papers, would appear if illustrated with a photograph from life! That it can be done the _Montreal Weekly Herald_ has recently and satisfactorily shown; and surely there is enterprise, spirit, and wealth enough among the British newspaper proprietors to follow the very laudable example of our transatlantic cousins. Negatives of great men are always attainable, and there need be no commercial difficulty between the photographer and newspaper proprietor on the score of supply. A multiplication of negatives or Woodbury's process, would afford all the necessary facilities for producing the prints in large numbers. Many new fields for the good of photography are opening up. Pathological works have been photographically illustrated with some amount of success. But far pleasanter fields are open to enterprising photographers in the faithful representation of natural objects, such as flowers, fruits, ferns, grasses, shrubs, trees, shells, seaweeds, birds, butterflies, moths, and every variety of animal life, from the lowest orders to the highest. I believe the time is not far distant when the best works on all the physical sciences will be illustrated by coloured photographs. Those very beautiful German photographs of flowers recently introduced show most conclusively of what photography is capable as a help to a study of the natural sciences. The flowers are not only photographed from nature, but exquisitely coloured after the same fountain of truth; and the sense of reality, roundness, and relief which they convey is truly wonderful. Hitherto the colouring of natural objects photographed from nature has been a very difficult thing to accomplish; but now it is done, and with a marvellous success. The monochromatic process is also making great strides in advance. Those very beautiful transparencies, cabinet size, of the Queen and Royal Family are now to be seen in most of the photographic picture shop-windows in town and country. These transparencies are the productions of the Disderi Company, by Woodbury's photo-relief process, and the results now obtained are really beautiful, both in effect and colour, and sold at a very low price. But the _chef d'oeuvre_ of all monochromatic effects has just been achieved by the triple labours of Mr. Macnee, the artist, and Mr. Annan, the photographer, of Glasgow, and Mr. J. W. Swan, of Newcastle. The subject in question is a work of art in every respect. The original is a full-length portrait of Lord Belhaven, painted by Daniel Macnee, and now in the Royal Academy Exhibition. A photograph taken from the painting by Mr. Annan was worked up in monochrome by the eminent artist, from which another negative was taken by the same skilful photographer, and placed in the hands of Mr. J. W. Swan to be printed in carbon, which the latter gentleman has done in the most admirable manner. Altogether, the result is the most satisfactory reproduction by photography that has ever been placed before the public, and is less like a photograph and more like a fine mezzotint engraving than anything I ever saw. Mr. Annan is now publishing the work on his own responsibility, and a specimen of it can be seen at the offices of "The Autotype Printing and Publishing Co.," 5, Haymarket, London. Mr. Hill, of Edinburgh, is also about to publish, in carbon, a photograph of that beautifully painted picture entitled "A Fairy Raid," which was exhibited last year in the rooms of the Royal Academy by Sir Noel Paton. As in the former case, Mr. Annan copied the painting, Sir Noel worked on a print in monochrome, which was again photographed by Mr. Annan, and the negative passed to Mr. J. W. Swan to be printed in carbon. I understand that Poynter's celebrated picture of "Israel in Egypt" is about to be published, in a similar manner, by the Autotype Company. It is therefore quite evident that photography is becoming, in reality, more and more "a foe to graphic art," and eclipsing the lights and deepening the shadows of the _unluxy_ engraver. Mr. McLachlan has again spoken without giving any very materially new facts, or throwing much more light on his mysterious mode of working. The great point is, to throw light on the concentrated solution of nitrate of silver; and until that has been done it will be impossible for any one to say from experience and practice that there is nothing in the principle. Mr. McLachlan attributes a chemical property to the action of light on the bath that has never been thought of before, and he seems to believe it so sincerely himself, and expresses his convictions so earnestly, that I think photographers are somewhat bound to wait patiently till time and light will enable them to comply with all the conditions he lays down, and make a series of careful experiments, before they can say whether they are under obligations to him or not. At any rate, natural justice suggests that they should not render a foregone verdict. _May 17th, 1868._ * * * * * The Exhibition of National Portraits--The Tintype of America--The Spirit of Photography in Canada--The "Wise Week," and the Total Eclipse of the Sun. Dear Mr. Editor,--From various causes I have been absent from your columns as a contributor for some time, but not as a reader. The chief reason for this was the weather, which of late has been so hot and prostrating as to dry up both my ink and my energies. Now that the atmosphere is more cool, moist, and pleasant, my ink and my thoughts may flow together, and the resulting epistle may find a place on some page of the Photographic News; if not, I shall not be angry. I know that the world--and photography is my world--is not always mindful of its atoms. The great and immortal Cicero discovered that even he could be absent from Rome, and all Rome not know it. How much easier, then, for your readers not to discover my absence from your pages. But my inability to write and attend to other duties entailed more serious losses to myself. Amongst others I missed seeing the Royal Academy Exhibition, but found a compensating pleasure in going to see the Exhibition of National Portraits at South Kensington. What a school it is for photographers! What a variety of pose, arrangement, management of light and shade, is to be seen in that glorious collection of Vandykes, Hogarths, Gainsboroughs, Reynolds, Opies, Wilkies, Raeburns, Northcotes, Lawrences, Phillips, Shees, Richmonds, Grants, and many others of the present day! I hope many photographers have seen the collection. None ought to have missed the opportunity. All that saw must have profited by the sight. Portraits of great men that have been familiar to me in black and white for years were there before me in the rich mellow colouring of Vandyke, Reynolds, Wilkie, and Lawrence, and the mind seemed carried back into the past while looking at the works of those great artists. The exhibition will soon close, and all that have not seen it should endeavour to do so at once. There may never again be seen such a gathering together of the great of England, painted by England's greatest portrait painters. The Manchester Art Treasures Exhibition was a great assemblage of the glory of England, but it was not so complete, nor so instructive, nor so comfortable to view as that now open at South Kensington. In addition to the paintings there is a large and valuable collection of rare engravings, both in mezzotints and in line. The latter collection alone would make a visit highly pleasing, and, in a sense, remunerative to every photographer. Art is beginning to take root in the minds of those who follow photography, either professionally or for amusement, and those exhibitions are the salt that "savoureth the earth," which in due time will bring forth rich fruits. The "Tintype" is now being largely practised in America, and is fitted into an envelope or slip, carte-de-visite size. The slip is formed of paper, with an aperture to show the picture, and a flap to fall over it as a protector. I had some of these shown to me a short time ago. The tintype is only another name for the ferrotype or melainotype, which is a collodion positive picture taken on a piece of tin or iron, coated with black japan on the front, and a varnish on the back, to prevent the metal from acting on the bath. The carte-de-visite form of the tintype fitted in the envelope or holder is a very good and ready way of supplying all portraits wanted in a hurry, and its adoption might be found very serviceable to many photographers in England. The American examples that I have seen are very brilliant and beautiful, and, to my mind, next in delicacy of detail and richness of colour to the long discarded but ever beautiful Daguerreotype. I must admit, _en passant_, that the Americans always excelled in producing fine, brilliant Daguerreotypes, and it is much the same with them in the production of glass positives, ferrotypes, or tintypes. The spirit of photography in America and Canada is admirable. Mr. Notman, of Montreal, has long been doing some excellent cabinet pictures representing out-of-door-life, pleasures, and pastimes. Now Mr. Inglis, of Montreal, also produces most beautiful carte-de-visite and cabinet pictures of indoor and out-of-door scenes, such as drawing-rooms, libraries, &c., with suitably arranged and occupied figures in the former, and boating, bathing, and fishing parties in the latter. Some of these pictures have recently been shown to me. They are all very fine examples of photography. The tone and quality of some are beautiful. Many of them are admirably arranged, and exhibit considerable knowledge of composition; but some of them, particularly the interiors, are sadly at fault in their chiaroscuro. They possess no dominant light, or, if they do, it is in the wrong place, leading the eye away from the principal object. In most cases the lights are too scattered, giving a spotty and flickering effect to the picture, which is painful to look at. With his out-of-door scenes Mr. Inglis is more happy, and probably, from his antecedents, more at home. For example, the "Boating Party" is very happily composed, embracing the double form of angular composition--the triangle and the lozenge--and just a little more skill or care would have made it perfect in its lines. The whole scene is well lighted and got up. The boat, foreground of pebbles, stones, shrubs, and trees are all real; the water is represented by tin-foil, wet black oilcloth, or something of the kind, which reflects the forms and colours of objects placed upon or above it. The reflections seem too sharp to be those of water. The plan adopted by Mr. Ross, of Edinburgh, is the best. That gentleman has a large shallow trough fitted up in his studio with water in it. Surely such pictures of groups of friends and families would take in London and the provinces if people only knew where to get them. At present I know there is not a place in London where photographic pictures possessing such a variety and interest can be obtained. Mr. Faulkner is the only photographer that has yet attempted to produce such rural subjects in London, but I am not aware that he has yet introduced "the boat" into his studio. This is the "Wise Week," and it is to be hoped that the gathering together of the wisdom of the world at Norwich will in some way be beneficial to photography. You, Mr. Editor, I presume, will attend the meetings, and I shall look forward with considerable interest to your gleanings from the harvest of science that will this year be garnered in the transactions of the British Association. As I think of the date to affix to my letter, I am reminded that this is the day of the great total eclipse, visible in India, and that several expeditions are engaged in taking observations. The photographic arrangements, I notice, are more than usually complete, and I most sincerely hope that the astronomical photographers are favoured with bright and calm weather, so that they may succeed in obtaining the best photographic representations of the phenomenon. In this I am not influenced by the mere photographic idea of getting a picture, but rather with the hope that photography may be the legitimate and honourable handmaiden to the savants, astronomers, and mathematicians in enabling them to ascertain the constitutional condition, mode of sustenance, and interminable length of life of the great source of all our labours and achievements. Then would the sun write his autobiography, and his amanuensis would be his favoured child, photography. _August 18th, 1868._ * * * * * The Harvest is over, the Granaries are Full, yet Famine is in our Midst--Photographers' Benevolent and Provident Societies--Photography Ennobled--Revival of the Eburneum Process--The Societies and the Coming Session--Photographic Apparatus _v._ Personal Luggage. Dear Mr. Editor,--My quill is as restless as my wing, and, as I skim about like the swallows, many things fall under my observation that would otherwise not do so, some of which are noteworthy and of interest to the photographic profession, many are not; but harvest time is interesting to everyone, and it is of this I am going to make a few remarks. It is always a subject of grave importance and anxiety to a nation like ours, with a very limited area of cereal land, until it is known whether the harvest has been abundant or otherwise. It is also equally important that the harvest, however plentiful, should be carefully reaped and garnered, so that famine may not fall upon the people before another season of plenty shall come in its course. The cereal harvest is over, and has been wonderfully abundant, in spite of the unusually long, dry, and hot summer. The stack-yards are full, and the granaries are teeming with plenty, and there is bread enough for all that can afford to buy. There, that is the qualification that brings to my mind the most serious part of this subject. Although the season has been wonderfully fine and favourable for a rich harvest of all things, "famine is in our midst." A cry of woe is mingled with our mirth. A glorious summer and autumn have, on the whole, yielded a rich reward to the labourers in the pleasant and profitable fields of photography; yet there is want among some of the workers. In the columns of your contemporary I observe a letter "begging alms" on behalf of a poor widow and her little orphans. It is a case of pure charity, and far be it from me to say to anyone, "Do not help her;" "They have no claim on the sympathies of the photographic public;" "Neither she nor her late husband did anything to forward the progress of the art nor advance the interests of photographers in general." I grant the latter hypothesis, and say, "He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord." Nevertheless, I cannot refrain from expressing my opinion that such painful appeals should not be allowed to appear in the columns of the photographic journals; all such private cases could and should be provided for by any of the provident organisations so common to other trades. The subject has been frequently mooted in your own columns, but no action has been taken. Very recently a lady correspondent called attention to the subject again, and now, in the pages of your contemporary, I notice an elaborate plan is laid down as the ground-work of a Photographers' Provident and Benevolent Society. That plan is open to some objections, but it is certainly desirable that such a society should be formed. It is rather late in the season for photographers to make any provision for cases 1 and 2, as the correspondent in your contemporary suggests--this year, at least; but I think his other plan of making a provision, however small, for widows and orphans is highly to be commended, and, if only carried into effect, would undoubtedly mitigate the anguish and lessen the fear of want in the minds of many deserving women, and might prevent the recurrence of those painful appeals to which I have just alluded. It is just as important and imperative a duty for every man to make some sort of provision for those dependent upon him as it is for the husbandman to reap and carefully house his harvest. Knowing the interest which you, Mr. Editor, personally take in this subject, I trust that you will exert your influence, and see if it be possible to found a society _at once_ that will grow in after years to be a monument to photography and to the goodness and forethought of the photographers of the present generation. Photography, like the fine arts, is honoured with a title of nobility. A baronetcy has recently fallen to the lot of one who for years has followed photography as a profession, taking cartes-de-visite and other photographs in the usual business-like manner. Of all the styles of distinction that are conferred upon men, I think baronetcies have been subject to the greatest number of vicissitudes, and spiced with the greatest amount of romance, from the romantic succession of Sir Robert Innes to Sir William Don, "a poor player;" and now the photographic profession includes among its members one of the baronets of England. Your description of the Eburneum process, given recently in your "Visits to Noteworthy Studios," has awakened quite a new interest in that beautiful form of photograph, introduced a few years ago by Mr. Burgess. Several photographers whom I know have set about producing them. The specimens which I have seen are very beautiful as cards, but they are particularly suitable for lockets, brooches, studs, pins, rings, &c., being sharp, clear, and delicate, and easily cut to fit any size or shape. Next month some of the London photographic societies will commence the session of 1868-9, and it might be asked, What are their prospects? It is to be hoped that the North London will do better than it did last session. There was more than one _nil_ meeting. The South London will doubtless keep up its character, and exhibit its usual vitality. The personal interest taken in the meetings by their kind, genial, and courteous President is almost sure to develop all the latent force of the members. It is also to be hoped that _the_ Society will make as brilliant a start as it did at the commencement of the session last November. Such an exhibition as that in Conduit Street may easily be repeated, though it may not be such a startling one. The question raised, whether photographic apparatus be or be not considered "personal luggage" by the railway companies, is one of very great importance to photographers, but particularly to amateurs, for if decided against them it will cause no end of inconvenience, vexation, and expense by delays and extra charges. On the other hand, it must be admitted that the view taken by the railway authorities is technically correct. The very word "personal" shows that they mean such articles as are really and absolutely necessary for the personal comfort and convenience of travellers, which can only rightly include wearing apparel, changes of linen, dressing-cases, ladies' work boxes, and writing desks. These are absolutely indispensable for the comfort and convenience of travellers. Photographic apparatus, and particularly chemicals, do not come under that classification, and I think it is of great consequence to the railway companies and their passengers to know what should, or should not, be put into the "luggage van." I know a case where an amateur photographer was travelling by rail with a 12 by 10 bath full of nitrate of silver solution packed among his clothes in a box in the luggage van. The bath leaked, the solution spoiled all his shirts, and he was driven to the shift of papering the fronts. Now, supposing the box containing the leaky bath had stood upon someone else's box--say a lady's--it might have run through and spoiled some valuable dresses; at the least, it would have spoiled the appearance of the box, to the great annoyance of the lady passenger, and the probable claim on the company for compensation. There are always two sides to a question, and though few men have travelled more with photographic apparatus in the luggage van than myself, I think, in this case, the best of the argument may be fairly ceded to the railway companies. _September 18th, 1868._ * * * * * "LUX GRAPHICUS" ON THE WING. His Flight to and from the Exhibition of the Photographic Society. Dear Mr. Editor,--On Tuesday night last I took the liberty of looking into the rooms of the Architectural Society, to see the photographs, and listen to the gossip of the visitors at the _conversazione_ of the Photographic Society. To hear the complimentary remarks and the exclamations of pleasure was as delightful to my ear as the first song of the lark in spring. The assemblage--not brilliant, but genial, pleasant, and happy--was as refreshing to the eye as the first glimpse of the vernal flowers; and the pictures hung upon the walls and screens, and laid upon the tables, were, in more senses than one, a feast to the mind almost without alloy. For my own part, I felt so joyful, I could not help fluttering my wings, shaking my feathers, and flitting about from one place to another, chirping, chatting, and pecking lovingly about this pretty thing, and at that old friend, till long after my usual time of going to roost. And when I did at last tear myself away and fly home, I could not help exclaiming, Well, there never was a pleasanter evening nor a nicer exhibition in the whole history of the Society! But I could not sleep; I put my head under my wing, shook my feathers, and tried to settle into the most comfortable and cosy positions, but it was no use. The pretty landscapes and pleasing portraits I had seen shone brighter and brighter before me; I was compelled to mentally review them; and here follows the result of my incubations. My first thoughts were to work the pleasures of the evening by a kind of rule-of-three process, by considering the value of the landscapes and portraits exhibited, to arrive at the worth of the exhibition; but not so much in a money point of view, as in the merits of the works, and their probable influences on the workers. Taking the landscape portion of the exhibition as first in the order into which I had mentally catalogued the pictures, it was an easy and delightful thing to skim over such a vast extent of this world's surface that evening. To journey to and from the glens of Scotland, the dales of England and Wales, the lakes of Ireland, the mountains of the Tyrol, to Abyssinia and the famous heights of Magdala, was but the work of a few minutes, thanks to the purveyors of that mental banquet. But to do full justice to the exhibitors I must endeavour to enumerate their principal works, and comment thereon with the utmost impartiality. Most unquestionably the gems of the landscape portion of the exhibition were eight exquisite little pictures by Mr. Russell Manners Gordon, affording unmistakable proof of what the gum-gallico dry process is capable of yielding in his hands. It is almost, if not quite, equal to the wet process for detail and delicacy. This is particularly noticeable in the view of Carnarvon Castle. Indeed, Mr. Bedford's picture of the same subject--which, I presume, is by the wet process--on the other side of the screen, contrasts rather unfavourably with it. Mr. Gordon's selection of his point of sight, and general treatment of that subject alone, are unmistakable proofs of his refined taste and feeling for the art capabilities of landscape photography. The wet collodion pictures by Mr. Gordon are also beautiful examples of the art. His cottages with sheep browsing in the foreground, which is an instantaneous picture, is remarkable for its beauty and arrangement. These pictures are beautifully printed, and possess a tone which harmonizes charmingly with the subjects. Amongst the other landscape photographers Mr. England and Mr. Bedford stand unrivalled in their peculiar branches. The views in the Tyrol, lately taken by Mr. England, are so excellent that they cannot but add to that gentleman's high reputation. Mr. Bedford's views are also quite equal, if not superior, to his previously-exhibited works. Some pretty views of the Lakes of Killarney by Mr. Archibald Irvine were well worthy of notice. Mr. F. Beasley, Junr., exhibited some very excellent examples of the Fothergill process; some printed in silver, and others in carbon, from the same negatives. I think the carbon prints were superior in colour, but the silver prints possess most detail and depth. Views of Wimbledon and other places by Mr. Vernon Heath were also good examples of that gentleman's photography. Some beautiful cloud effects by Messrs. Robinson and Cherrill, of Tunbridge Wells, and Mr. Fox, of Brighton, attracted considerable attention, and elicited great praise. The large composition picture, "Returning Home," by Mr. Robinson, was greatly admired by nearly everyone that looked at it. One or two ill-natured or ignorant remarks were made about that picture, but I candidly think it is the very best picture that Mr. Robinson has produced. The sunshine on the one side, and the rain storm sweeping over the other, are both cleverly and artistically managed. I am sorry I cannot say the same of the group of children which hung near the latter. The group, though perfect in its photographic details and tone, is too suggestive of scissors and paste to be a good picture, in my estimation. Mr. Wardley's large Taupenot pictures were very excellent. The very interesting pictures of Abyssinia by the 10th Company of Engineers were very attractive. Groups of the captives--political, religious, and artisan, with their families--and the officers of the Expedition, formed interesting pictures. The views of Magdala, Theodore's house, the mushroom fortifications, and other flimsy defences, as revealed by the truth-telling camera, seemed to lessen considerably the glory of the capture of Magdala. Having dismissed the landscape portion of the exhibition without mentioning all the many excellent contributions thereto, I next turn my thoughts again to the contributions of portraits. The examples of that branch of photography were nearly all of first-rate excellence, a large number of them being _à la Salomon_, M. Adam-Salomon himself contributing no less than fifteen. With one or two remarkable exceptions, these pictures were not equal to those exhibited last year, and a general feeling prevailed that they were neither his later works, nor the best of his former; still, they were a very effective display, and attracted great and deserved attention. As I have, on a former occasion, expressed my opinion on the great excellence of M. Salomon's works, I shall not comment further thereon at present, but proceed to notice those which most nearly approached them in photographic and artistic essentials. Undoubtedly Mr. Valentine Blanchard's contributions, both in number and quality, come nearer to M. Salomon's works than any other contributor's. Mr. Blanchard exhibited ten portraits _à la Salomon_, some of which are quite equal to the French artist's best works, without the elaborate working-up which the latter exhibit. Mr. Blanchard has not been at all times fortunate in his sitters, which is very much to be regretted, for we all know how much a beautiful subject helps a good photograph. Hitherto, Mr. Blanchard has been an exhibitor chiefly as a landscape and figure-study photographer. Now that he has taken more kindly to portraiture, and exhibits such capabilities for its successful practice, I hope he will find it sufficiently remunerative to induce him to be a steady and persevering disciple of M. Salomon. Messrs. Robinson and Cherrill also exhibited two beautiful and Salomon-like portraits: one of M. Salomon himself, and one of Mr. Hain Friswell; the latter, I think, is decidedly the best. Mr. Mayland, of Cambridge, sent six very excellent portraits in Salomon's style, all very good but one; a gentleman in a velvet coat was particularly successful. The pictures exhibited by Mr. Briggs, of Leamington, though extremely forcible and beautiful, were not exactly an imitation of the style of M. Salomon. Mr. Leake, of Cornhill, had a frame containing six very capital portraits in the style of the eminent French photographer, but a little overdone in after-touching--too much elaborated. In this respect he far outdid his great prototype. Messrs. Fradelle and Leach also exhibited a number of whole-plate pictures _à la Salomon_, which were very good indeed. Messrs. Slingsby, Burgess, Ashdown, Dunmore, and S. Fry, were also exhibitors of the same style of portraits, 10 by 8 size; but it is a pity the latter did himself the injustice of exhibiting so many, for there was only one--an old gentleman with a grey beard--that was really worthy of him. Never did any man's joke recoil more forcibly on himself than that of Mr. Fry's. The faces of some of his female portraits--one in particular--were, in my estimation, as flat, white, and shadowless as a piece or knob of sal-ammoniac itself; but I must say that the portrait of the gentleman above referred to was all that could be desired as an artistic photograph. Amongst the cabinet pictures exhibited by English photographers, I think those by Mr. Hubbard were decidedly the finest. One entitled "The Toilet," and another of a lady seated at a window, which might be named "A Sultry Day in Town," are charmingly artistic photographs. A composition picture by the same artist was also very skilfully treated; indeed, it was mistaken by many to be a copy of a picture, and might easily have been taken for a copy of a painting by T. Faed. Mr. Briggs, Mr. Godbold (of Hastings), Mr. Gillo, Messrs. Lucas and Box, also exhibited some beautiful cabinet pictures. Cartes-de-visite in their ordinary form were somewhat scarce, but Dr. Wallich, Mr. Charles Heath, Mr. Bateman, and others, made a good show of vignettes. Mrs. Cameron exhibited some large pictures in her peculiar style; but my own opinion and that of others was, that she is improving. Mr. Ernest Edwards exhibited a large collection of carbon pictures, in black and other colours; some mounted on chromo-tinted paper, and some excellent enlargements in carbon. The Autotype Company exhibited a fine copy of Lord Belhaven, which I noticed some time ago; also a very valuable and beautiful collection of copies from drawings by old masters, all bound together, making a handsome and very interesting collection. Mr. Rejlander had a large collection of his art photographs on view, all of which were clever, some facetious, and many very beautiful conceptions. A frame of coloured enamels by Mr. Bailey, and some in black-and-white by Mr. Henderson and Mr. Barnes, also attracted considerable notice. The eburneumtypes by Mr. Burgess, a coloured collodio-chloride portrait on ivory by Mr. J. Edwards, and other collodio-chloride and opalotype pictures, were very much admired. The cabinet vignettes by Reutlinger, and the cabinet pictures by Wenderoth, were both in request at the table, on account of their beauty and interest. I must not forget to mention a very interesting series of twenty-four stereoscopic pictures by Mr. Alfieri, illustrative of "The Potter's Art." Mr. Jabez Hughes and Mr. Meagher were both exhibitors of very excellent and useful apparatus--cameras, camera-stands, and rolling-presses. Now I think such an exhibition as I have but partially described cannot fail to have produced a pleasing and beneficial effect on the minds of all who saw it, and ought, on the whole, to have given infinite pleasure and satisfaction to both exhibitors and visitors. Yet I think I heard one or two growls of discontent about the hanging from someone whose pictures or whose friend's pictures were not on the line; but I think I may safely say there never was a case of hanging yet that was not objected to by one individual at least. Even the hangers of the Royal Academy do not escape censure, and they are supposed to have far more skill, taste, and experience in hanging than the volunteer hangers of the late photographic exhibition. I think, however, that the hangers performed their duties both conscientiously and creditably, especially when it is considered in how very short a time the work had to be done. Anyone who felt aggrieved, and expressed himself churlishly on that point, must surely have been in that unenviable state which the French very adroitly designate _Être marqué au B_. After these reflections I felt too drowsy to reflect any more, and was barely awake enough to subscribe myself--Yours very truly. _November 10th, 1868._ * * * * * The Refunding of the Balance of the Goddard Fund--The Photographers' Provident Society--A Ferocious Doorsman--The South London Dinner--A Christmas Carol. My Dear Sir,--Now that the balance of the Goddard Fund is returned to the contributors, and all the trials and vexations the administration of the fund brought upon the chief promoters are known, I think the very best thanks of the whole body of subscribers to that fund are due to the committee for their firm and sensible determination to provide for the wants of the poor imbecile recipient in the manner they did, and for their withstanding the attempt made by a person who was not in the least related to the late Mr. Goddard to obtain possession of the balance in hand. I, for one, a subscriber to the fund, return them my most hearty acknowledgments, not for the money returned to me, but for the straightforwardness of their report, and the wise and judicious manner in which they dispensed the funds. While congratulating myself and confrères on seeing the money not required for the relief of the late Mr. Goddard returned to the subscribers instead of going into the possession of a person for whom it never was intended, I think it is to be regretted that no responsible party had foreseen that much of this returned money would have been gladly placed to the credit of some benevolent or provident institution connected with photography. The whole amount, or even the half of it, would have made a very handsome nucleus for the commencement of such a fund. I have heard several wishes to that effect expressed during the last few days. Doubtless the committee did the very best thing they could have done for their own credit and the entire satisfaction of the whole of the subscribers; but I am afraid an opportunity has been lost in the interest of the incipient relief fund by not having had a receiver for these stray and unexpected sums appointed. The praiseworthy act of Messrs. Ross and Pringle, as noticed in another journal, confirms this impression. While the subject of a photographers' provident or relief fund is before me, I may mention that in the Report of the Friendly Societies recently issued by Mr. Tidd Pratt, he speaks in the highest terms of those societies which are managed by the members themselves without salaries, and condemns the extravagance exhibited by the societies of a similar nature which are conducted by salaried officials. Now, as it is a friendly society pure and simple that sick or needy photographers ought to look to for future help, in my opinion the former is the kind of society that should be established. The movement is not to be started as a business speculation, and there should be no salaries attached to any of the offices. Each member joining the provident society should be prepared to submit to the tax on his time and energies, if elected to office, as part and parcel of the amount he subscribes for the general welfare of the body and relief of individual members. For my part, I object to the contemplated society taking the form of a relief fund depending upon donations, collections at dinners, &c., for its support. Such means for raising the necessary funds to start the society may be allowable; but after it is commenced, every individual connected with it should be a subscribing member, and not allowed to receive any benefit, except under the most urgent necessities, until he has paid a certain number of subscriptions. During one of my peregrinations about town lately I stumbled upon a very ferocious doorsman. My attention was suddenly arrested, while passing one of those photographic establishments which keep a kind of two-legged hyena prowling up and down before their doors, by hearing the somewhat startling and cannibalistic exclamation of "I'll eat yer!" Looking round, I saw that one of those prowling bipeds had fastened upon two quiet-looking young gentlemen, evidently strangers in town and to town ways, and had so importuned them to sit for "a correct likeness," until they turned upon him, and threatened to give him in charge if he did not desist; when he retaliated by threatening to eat them, and used a great deal of sanguinary and abusive language as a substitute for more palatable suavity. Is such an "outsider" or hanger-on a fit and proper person to join a photographers' provident society, or be the recipient of a benevolent relief fund? The South London Photographic Society's annual dinner came off on Saturday evening last at the "Salutation Tavern," Newgate Street. Twenty-three members and friends, all told, sat down to dinner, and enjoyed a thoroughly English repast. After the cloth was removed, the pleasantest part of the evening commenced. The worthy and honoured president, the Rev. F. F. Statham, M.A., who occupied the chair, was all geniality, and gave the toast of the evening--"The South London Photographic Society"--in his usually felicitous style. To Mr. Jabez Hughes was allotted the task of proposing the next important toast--"Photography"--which he did in the most glowing and eloquent terms, dwelling on the rise and progress of the art in England, its position in a competitive point of view at the Paris Exhibition, interspersed with some racy and facetious remarks on the different modes and kinds of rewards, from the bronze, silver, and gold medals, to the paper certificates, which he considered the most honourable mentions that could be given by a discerning public. From that he soared into the higher aspirations of photographers and sublime regions of photography, giving, with thrilling effect, a description of the social joys, scientific pursuits, and human ameliorations to which photography administers. Mr. Baynham Jones, being the oldest photographer present, had the honour of replying on behalf of the art. Mr. G. Wharton Simpson, in very appropriate terms, gave the toast, "Art Photography," which was responded to by Mr. O. G. Rejlander. Mr. Johnson, of the Autotype Company, had the honour of proposing the toast "Professional Photography," which was responded to by Mr. Valentine Blanchard, who occupied the vice-chair. Other toasts of a professional and semi-professional character were given and responded to. The intervals were filled up with part and instrumental music by members of the Society. Mr. Cooper contributed greatly to the evening's enjoyment by giving two charming performances on the cornet-a-piston, which were admirably accompanied by Mr. Henry Cooper on the piano. Taking it all in all, it was one of the pleasantest and merriest evenings I have ever enjoyed at the convivial meetings of the South London Photographic Society, and formed a delightful introduction to the season of universal festivity which is close at hand. Christmas, all over the civilized world, is not only a period of festive reunion, but, according to the only rational interpretation of the word, a time of good will towards men, and peace upon earth. Photographers, like other men, have had their little differences of opinion, which have produced partial estrangements during a portion of the year which will so soon expire; but let the approaching season, which is held in commemoration of the birth of the greatest Peacemaker that ever came among men, be looked upon by all as the fittest time to forget and forgive all slights, injuries, or insults, real or imaginary; and let not the great festival of our common faith be clouded or eclipsed by an angry thought, nor the immeasurable charity of true Christianity be dimmed by one unforgiving feeling. The light of the Christian faith is a light that should penetrate to the dark cells of our hearts, and dispel all the gloomy and corrosive accumulations of controversy that may have lodged there, and unconsciously eaten away any part of our better nature. Few of us--none but the most presumptuous--can lay his hand upon his heart and say, "Mine is immaculate!" None of us are without sin, and charity and forgiveness are the greatest of the Christian virtues; and they should be the more carefully studied and practised by all who live in and by the Light of the world. _December 15th, 1868._ PHOTOGRAPHY AND THE IMMURED POMPEIIANS. Everyone must be sensible of the many and varied applications of photography. Even photographers themselves, familiar as they are with the capabilities of the art they practise, must necessarily have their wonder excited occasionally at the scope of their art-science, especially when they consider that the process, as practised at the present day, is not more than seventeen years old. That it should be the historian of the life and manners of the present period more fully and faithfully than any written account, is not so much a matter of surprise. Appealing, as it does, to the vanity and affections of the people, it is at once a recorder of the changes of fashion, a registrar of marriages, births, and deaths, and a truthful illustrator of the times in which we live; but that it should be brought to bear upon the past, and make the inhabitants of the world in the nineteenth century familiar with the forms, fashions, manners, life, and death of the people of the first century of the Christian Era, is something to be marvelled at, and at first seems an impossibility. Yet such is the fact; and photography has been made the cheap and easy means of informing the present generation of the manner in which the ancients behaved, suffered, and died in the midst of one of the most appalling catastrophes that ever overtook the inhabitants of any part of the world, ancient or modern, as vividly and undeniably as if the calamity had occurred but yesterday. The foregoing reflections were excited by seeing very recently some photographs from plaster casts of the forms of human beings as they had fallen and died when Pompeii and Herculaneum were destroyed by the first known and terrible eruption of Mount Vesuvius. The photographs alluded to reveal with a fearful fidelity the dreadful agonies of some of those who perished at Pompeii, and, while looking at the pictures, it is very difficult to divest the mind of the idea that they are not the works of some ancient photographer who plied his lens and camera immediately after the eruption had ceased, so forcibly do they carry the mind back to the time and place of the awful immurement of both a town and its people. That these photographs were not obtained from the lifeless forms of the Pompeiians the reader will readily understand, for their bodies have not been preserved entire from that day to this. The question then naturally arises, "How could plaster casts be obtained from which the photographs were produced?" To answer that question I must briefly explain that Pompeii was not, as is generally understood, destroyed by an overflow of red hot lava, which would have burnt up every particle of human flesh with which it came in contact almost instantly, without leaving a mould or impress of the form which it surrounded. The _black mud_ which flowed from Vesuvius into the doomed town of Pompeii entombed the houses and inhabitants--covered them up and formed a thick crust over them, which gradually hardened, and as the bodies crumbled away to dust a mould or matrix was left, from which plaster casts of great beauty and finish might have been obtained of almost everything that was destroyed. Unfortunately, this was not discovered until very recently, after many of the beautiful moulds had been destroyed by the process of hurried, thoughtless, and unsystematic excavation. It was only a short time ago, since Naples was united to Italy, that careful and intelligent excavation secured to future generations impressions from those matrices made by the most terrible process of natural mould making. Sig. Fiorelli, who was appointed superintendent of excavations at Pompeii, happily thought of obtaining casts from these natural moulds by pouring in soft plaster of Paris, and thus secure more useful mementos than by preserving the moulds themselves. Amongst the first casts thus obtained were the forms of four human beings, described as follows in the _Quarterly Review_ for 1864:-- "These four persons had perished in the streets. Driven from their homes, they sought to flee when it was too late. These victims of the eruption were not found together, and they do not appear to have belonged to the same family or household. The most interesting of the casts is that of two women, probably mother and daughter, lying feet to feet; they appear from their garb to have been people of poor condition. The elder seems to lie tranquilly on her side, overcome by the noxious gases. She probably fell and died without a struggle. Her limbs are extended, and her left arm drops loosely. On one finger is still seen her coarse iron ring. Her child was a girl of fifteen; she seems, poor thing, to have struggled hard for life. Her legs are drawn up convulsively. Her little hands are clenched in agony. In one she holds her veil, or part of her dress with which she had covered her head, burying her face in her arms to shield herself from the falling ashes and from the foul, sulphurous smoke. The form of her head is perfectly preserved. The texture of her coarse linen garments may be traced, and even the fashion of her dress, with its long sleeves reaching to her wrists. Here and there it is torn, and the smooth young skin appears in the plaster like polished marble. On her tiny feet may still be seen her embroidered sandals. At some distance from this group lay a third woman, apparently about the age of twenty-five, and belonging to a better class. Silver rings were on her fingers. She lay on her side, and had died in great agony. Her garments had been gathered up on one side, leaving exposed a limb of the most beautiful form. She had fled with her little treasure, two silver cups, a few jewels, and some silver coins, and her keys, like a careful matron. The fourth cast is that of a man of the people, perhaps a common soldier. He is almost of colossal size. He lies on his back, his arms extended by his side, and his feet stretched out, as if, finding escape impossible, he had laid himself down to meet death like a brave man. His dress consists of a short coat or jerkin, and tight-fitting breeches of some coarse stuff, perhaps leather; heavy sandals, with soles studded with nails, are laced tightly round his ankles. On one finger is seen his iron ring. His features are strongly marked, his mouth open, as in death. Some of his teeth still remain, and even part of the moustache adheres to the plaster." Such is the description of the plaster casts; and the photographs which I possess of those casts convey to the mind at one glance all that is there written. Wonderful photography! How eloquent in their silence are thy pictures! To what more dignified and sublime uses could any art be put? Only a few can look upon those casts of the dead Pompeiians in the Museum of Naples, but the whole world may view the photographs taken from them, and look upon the Pompeiians in their forms and habits as they died, and read a page from the unwritten histories of those terrible death-struggles, when the strong man, the tender, placid mother, and the young and delicate maiden were all entombed in that fearful sea of mud, amidst darkness and horrors that can never be adequately described. Such an awful catastrophe will never cease to interest the student of ancient history, and photography will now be the means of deepening his interest, and revealing to his mind with greater force and lucidity many scenes that actually occurred at the very moment of the appalling destruction of Pompeii, on the 24th of August, A.D. 79. A SIMPLE MODE OF INTENSIFYING NEGATIVES. Undoubtedly the best possible practice of photography is that which requires no after intensification in the production of a first-class negative. This, however, though a "consummation devoutly to be wished," is not always attained, even by the most experienced photographer. Every operator knows that there is sometimes a condition of things that renders a simple and efficient process of intensifying afterwards indispensable. Of all the modes of intensifying--and their name is legion--I think the readiest and most generally useful has been much neglected. The persulphate of uranium and ferridcyanide of potassium process gave wonderfully charming results. But what of that? It was completely impracticable, and a failure, in consequence of its tendency to go on increasing in intensity in the hands of the printer. The bichloride of mercury and iodine processes, unlimited in number, also went on increasing in an unlimited degree, and no amount of "roasting" could reduce the negatives so treated to the desirable degree of transparency that would enable any printer to obtain good impressions. There is, however, one of the bichloride of mercury processes, published some years ago, which I modified so as to give the most satisfactory results. It rendered the negative sufficiently intense, and preserved the most exquisite modelling, without changing afterwards; but the process was very troublesome, and not very agreeable. The simplest, cheapest, and most reliable process of intensifying negatives that I know of is with sulphuret of potassium (liver of sulphur) used in the following manner:-- Make a very dilute solution of sulphuret of potassium, put it into any old gutta-percha or porcelain bath; and, after the negative is developed as far as is desirable with the ordinary iron developer, fixed, and washed in the usual way, immerse the plate in that state at once into the solution of sulphuret of potassium, in the same manner as in sensitising the plate in the nitrate bath, by using a dipper, and leave it there until sufficiently intense, which is generally in about the time required for coating and sensitising another plate, so that, if the operator be working single-handed, very little, if any, time is lost in the process of intensifying. The solution may also be flooded over the plate in the same manner as the developer, after fixing and washing as before. When sufficiently intense, rinse the plate with water, dry, and varnish in the ordinary way. But it is best to use the intensifier in the manner first described, which is by far the most cleanly and economical plan, both in the saving of time and solution. By using it with the "bath and dipper," it is not offensive, on account of its extreme dilution, and not being disturbed so much, or immediately under the olfactory nerves of the operator, it may be worked in the ordinary dark room with the greatest safety and convenience. A STRING OF OLD BEADS. He is a rash man who announces "something new" in these days. I believe there is nothing new under the sun, and in photography especially. If any man be rash enough to rush into print with what he considers a new idea, some other man rushes into print also and says the idea is old, exploded, useless, worthless, or worse. I lay no claim to originality. I have lived so long in the atmosphere of photography, I don't know where or how I picked up my knowledge--such as it is. Some of it I may have stumbled on, some of it I may have found, and some of it I may have stolen. If the latter, I forget from whom, when, or where, and in all such cases a bad memory is a good and convenient thing. But I will endeavour to atone for such sins by publicly restoring all I may have filched from other men's brains for the benefit of all whom it may concern. I shall not count the beads; that would be like running over a rosary, and I object to sub rosa revelations; neither shall I attend to the order of stringing the beads, but will put them on record just as they come to hand; and the first is-- _How to Make Vignette Papers._--Take a piece of sensitised paper, lay it under a piece of glass and let it blacken. Then take a camels'-hair pencil dipped in a weak solution of cyanide of potassium, and paint the extreme size and shape of the desired aperture. Let it dry, and with a little stronger solution of cyanide paint _within_ the size and shape, and then with a stronger solution paint the centre, which will be perfectly white and semi-transparent. The object of using the three strengths of solution and painting three separate times is to obtain gradation, and the edges will be yellow and softened like a vignette glass. These vignette papers can be attached to the back of the negative or to the outside of the printing-press, and can be used either in shade or sunshine without materially prolonging the time of printing. The cost of production is trifling, as any waste piece of paper and spare time can be employed in making them, and they do not occupy much time in making; in fact, one can be made in less time than will be spent in reading this description. I need not expatiate on the advantages of being able to make a special vignette quickly. Every photographer must have experienced the difficulty of purchasing a special size and shape to suit a particular subject. _How to Point a Pencil._--Rub the pencil to a point in the groove of a corundum file. This is a better and cheaper pointer than a Yankee pencil-sharpener, and it puts a finer point to a blacklead pencil than anything else I know. Retouchers, try it. _How to Ease a Tight Stopper._--There is nothing more annoying in the practice of photography than to take up a bottle and find the stopper _fixed_. In many instances the bottle is broken and time wasted in trying to remove the fixed stopper. When such an obstinate stopper gets into your hands, run a little glycerine round the top of the bottle. Set the bottle down, and in a few minutes the stopper will be free. Prevention is better than cure. Keep a little glycerine on all your stoppers. Glycerine agrees with every chemical in photographic use, and prevents stoppers and bottles coming to grief. In a thousand and one ways a little glycerine is beyond all price. _How to Prepare Albumenized Prints for Colouring._--Pour over them a little matt varnish. This removes the greasiness, and gives a fine tooth and ivory-like surface for the artist to work upon. _How to Remove Silver Stains from the White Ground of a Vignette._--Touch it with a solution of cyanide of potassium, and wash off immediately. The other parts of the picture will not be injured. _How to Stipple a Window White or Yellow._--For white, mix a little dextrine and kaolin in water. Dab the mixture on the glass with a piece of cotton. For the purpose of obscuration that is quite enough; but if sightliness be essential, finish by stippling with the ends of a hog's-hair brush. For yellow, mix a little dextrine and deep orange chrome in powder together in water, and apply it to the window in the same manner. Dabbing once or twice with a piece of cotton will exclude white light and make a luminous dark room. The same mixture makes an excellent backing for dry plates to prevent halation. LIGHTS AND LIGHTING. A great deal has been written and said about lights and lighting--a great deal too much; yet more must be said and written. Light is to the photographer what the sickle is to the shearer--a good reaper can cut well with an indifferent sickle, but an indifferent reaper never gets a good sickle in his hand. A good photographer, who also understands light and shade, can produce good pictures in an ordinary studio. It is the indifferent photographer who runs after "fancy lights," and is, like a benighted traveller in pursuit of a will-o'-the-wisp, eventually left floundering in a bog. It is folly to construct powerful concentrators if powerful reflectors have to be employed to counteract their defects. If a limited amount of diffused light be absolutely necessary it is best to retain it and use it in its simplest and least expensive form. When I commenced photography glass houses were scarcer in England than comets in the heavens, and the few that were in existence were all constructed on false principles. It was not until I visited America that I saw a _properly_-constructed studio. The Americans were, and are, prone to give stupid names to sensible things; and the names they gave to their studios were no exceptions. This, that, and the other photographer advertised his "mammoth skylight." I went to sit, see, and be satisfied that their mode of lighting was very superior to ours. I was convinced _instanter_ that the perpendicular sides and sloping roofs of our miserable little hothouses were mistakes and things to be abhorred, while their spacious rooms and "mammoth skylights" were things to be admired and adopted. In one of these rooms, and almost without blinds or reflectors, the sitter could be "worked" on a semi-circle or half oval, and "lighted" either in front or on either side at pleasure, and with the greatest facility. I determined, there and then, to build my next studio on similar principles; but until recently I have had no opportunity of carrying out my intentions. To get what I required and to make the best of my situation I had to "fence and fiddle" the district surveyor: but I gained my point, and the victory was worth the foils and the fiddlestick. My studio can be lighted from either side; but the "light of lights" is the north one, and that is a large fixed window 11 by 9 feet with a single slope of two and a half feet in the height; that is, two and a half feet out of the perpendicular at the top, with no other top light and no perpendicular side light. With this light I do all ordinary work. I can work round the light from one side of the room to the other, as under a mammoth skylight, without using either blind or reflector. If I want Rembrandt effects I have only to open a shutter on the south side, and let in subdued sunlight. That at once becomes the dominant light, and the north light illumines the shadows. The bottom of the north light is three feet from the floor. The advantages of this form of studio are these. It is cool, because no more light is admitted than is absolutely necessary. It is neat, because no rag-like curtains are hanging about. It is clean, because there is nothing to collect dirt. It is dry, because the pitch of the roof renders leakage impossible. It is pleasant to the sitter, because of these desirabilities, and that the light is not distressing. It is agreeable to the operator, because the work is easy and everything is comfortable. Printed by Piper & Carter, 5, Furnival Street, Holborn, London, E.C. SEVEN NEW SIZES, ALL WITH TRANSPARENT FILM. [Illustration: Kodak Film Camera] No apparatus connected with Photography has ever excited so much interest as THE KODAK. The No. 1, making a round picture, was only the entering wedge, and served its purpose admirably, in introducing to the public the vast advantages of a Camera using films over any form of Camera using glass. This year we beg to call your attention to SEVEN NEW SIZES, viz.:-- No. 2, 3-1/2 inch Circular Picture, one finder. No. 3, Regular, 3-1/4 × 4-1/4, Square Picture, two finders. No. 3, Junior, " No, 4, Regular, 4 × 5, No. 4, Junior, " No. 4, Folding, " No. 5, " 5 × 7, " " " _Send for the New KODAK PRIMER, fully describing all sizes and styles._ THE EASTMAN PHOTOGRAPHIC MATERIALS COMPANY, Limited, 115, Oxford Street, London, W. IT IS ADMITTED by Every Competent Authority THAT WRATTEN'S 'LONDON' PLATES ARE THE UNIVERSAL STANDARD OF EXCELLENCE AND COMPARISON. This high reputation has been sustained against a host of competitors for twelve years:--a fact without parallel in the annals of the Gelatine process. Messrs. Wratten & Wainwright's Complete Illustrated Catalogue contains full Particulars and Prices of a large and varied Stock of Photographic Requirements, together with specially-written Instructions for developing the "London" Plates, Printing, Toning, and other operations, and will be forwarded free upon application to WRATTEN & WAINWRIGHT, PHOTOGRAPHIC CHEMISTS AND APPARATUS MAKERS, AND Sole Proprietors and Manufacturers of the "London" Dry Plates, 38, GREAT QUEEN STREET, LONG ACRE, LONDON, W.C. THE AUTOTYPE COMPANY MANUFACTURES AUTOTYPE TISSUES, TRANSFER PAPERS, & MATERIALS FOR PERMANENT PHOTOGRAPHIC PRINTING. =AUTOTYPE ENLARGEMENTS.=--Portraits and Views produced of any dimensions up to 5 ft. by 3 ft. 6 in.; their grandeur, beauty, and unalterability secure public favour. =AUTOTYPE DRY PLATES=, manufactured with Burton's Coating Machine, are rich in silver, very rapid, yielding clear vigorous negatives, of uniform quality. The plates are of superior glass, and packed in strong metal-grooved boxes up to 15 by 12 inches. To be obtained only of the Autotype Company. =BOOK ILLUSTRATIONS=, by Sawyer's =Collotype Process=, employed by the Trustees of the British Museum, by the Royal, Palæographical, Hellenic, Numismatical, and other learned Societies, and by the leading publishers. Prints direct on the paper with suitable margins. =AUTO-GRAVURE.=--The Autotype process as applied to Photographic Engraving on Copper is of wide application in the reproduction of Works of Art, and is highly appreciated by the disciples of Naturalistic Photography as efficiently rendering the qualities of negatives direct from nature. Examples of Auto-gravure, in the reproduction of paintings by Holman Hunt, the late Frank Holl, R.A., W. Ouless, R.A., Val. Prinsep, A.R.A., of drawings by Hy. Rylands, of a frieze, "Spring," by Herbert Draper, of a Group from the frieze of the Parthenon, &c., &c., can be seen at 74, New Oxford Street. * * * * * The AUTOTYPE FINE ART GALLERY, _74, New Oxford Street, London_, is remarkable for its display of Copies of celebrated Works by "THE GREAT MASTERS" from the Louvre, Vatican, Hermitage, and the National Galleries of Italy, Spain, Holland, and London, including H.M. Collections at Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle. Albums of reference to the various Galleries are provided, are easily looked over, and of great interest to lovers of Art. Send for the new Pamphlet, "AUTOTYPE: a Decorative and Educational Art," per post to any address. The AUTOTYPE FINE ART CATALOGUE, 186 pp., free per post for 6d. THE AUTOTYPE COMPANY, LONDON. Offices: 74, New Oxford Street, w. c. -- Works: Ealing Dene, Middlesex. =Grand Prix & Gold Medal, Paris Exhibition, 1889.= Council Medal and Highest Award, Great Exhibition, London, 1851. Gold Medal, Paris Exposition, 1867. Medal and Highest Award, Exhibition, London, 1862. Medal and Diploma, Antwerp. 1878. Medal and Diploma, Centennial Exhibition, Philadelphia, 1875. Two Gold Medals, Paris Exposition, 1878. Medal and Diploma, Sydney, 1879. Gold Medal, Highest Award, Inventions Exhibition, 1885. ROSS' LENSES AND APPARATUS. IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT. In consequence of the greatly increased demand for their Photographic Cameras and Apparatus, Ross & Co. have fitted up the first floor of 112, New Bond Street, as SPECIAL SHOW ROOMS for exhibiting the newest and most improved forms of CAMERAS AND ACCESSORIES OF ALL DESCRIPTIONS. For the convenience of purchasers, they have also constructed _A FULLY EQUIPPED DARK ROOM,_ where the Apparatus may be practically tested, and USEFUL INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO BEGINNERS. Amateurs are invited to inspect ROSS' COMPLETE OUTFITS. ROSS' IMPROVED CAMERAS. Extra Light and Portable; Double Extension. New Form DOUBLE SLIDE, =Less Costly than the Ordinary Form of Dark Slide.= Absolutely Light-proof. Smaller than Ordinary. No Superfluous Openings. No risk of Plates being broken by pressure. Certainty of Register. Lighter than Ordinary. No Hinges or Clips to get out of order. No chance of Warping. SPECIAL SMALL & LIGHT CAMERAS, =For use with the New Form Double Slide.= _Catalogues and Full Particulars, with Estimates, on application to_ ROSS & CO., 112, NEW BOND STREET, LONDON. Works: Clapham Common, S.W. H. MOORSE, Photographic Apparatus Manufacturer TO THE GOVERNMENT (Established over 25 years), 154, High Holborn, London, W.C. (Near New Oxford Street and Museum Street.) SQUARE CAMERA. LIGHT CAMERA. Both one price. Cash with Order, 10 per cent. off. [Illustration: Bellows Cameras] 4-1/4 × 3-1/2 6-1/2 × 4-3/4 8-1/2 × 6-1/2 £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. Camera and Three 6 0 0 7 10 0 9 8 0 Double Backs. Rectilinear Lens 3 0 0 3 10 0 5 0 0 with Iris Diaphragm Travelling Bag. Brown Canvas with 0 18 0 1 0 0 1 2 0 Spring Lock. Solid Leather Spring 1 5 0 1 8 0 1 12 0 Lock. Rotating Turn Table 1 7 0 1 12 0 1 12 0 with Tripod Stand. Brass Binding Camera 1 5 0 1 5 0 1 10 0 and Slide. 10 × 8 12 × 10 15 × 12 18 × 16 24 × 18 £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. Camera and three 11 15 0 14 14 0 18 18 0 24 0 0 26 0 0 Double Backs. Rectilinear Lens 6 10 0 8 10 0 10 10 0 16 15 0 25 0 0 with Iris Diaphragm (2 cases) Travelling Bag. Brown Canvas with 1 15 0 2 10 0 3 12 0 4 14 0 6 0 0 Spring Lock. Solid Leather Spring 2 5 0 3 5 0 4 15 0 6 5 0 8 0 0 Lock. Rotating Turn Table 2 0 0 2 5 0 2 10 0 2 15 0 3 5 0 with Tripod Stand. Brass Binding Camera 1 12 0 2 0 0 2 12 0 3 3 0 4 4 0 and Slide. CAMERA BELLOWS. Outside Size. Length. Leather. Black Cloth. 6 × 5 8 3/3 2/3 6 × 6 9 3/6 3/- 7-1/2 × 7-1/2 12 8/- 6/- 9-1/2 × 9-1/2 18 12/- 8/6 11 × 11 18 14/- 9/- 13 × 13 20 15/- 11/- 17 × 17 22 20/- 15/- 18 × 24 30 40/- 30/- 24 × 24 60 100/- 80/- POCKET OR HAND CAMERAS, WITH THREE DOUBLE BACKS. 4-1/4 × 3-1/4, £3 3s. 6-1/2 × 4-3/4, £4 4s. MARION & CO.'S PLATES. _Manufactured at their Works, Southgate._ BRITANNIA ORDINARY PLATES (Yellow Label.) BRITANNIA EXTRA RAPID " (White Label.) INSTANTANEOUS " (Brown Label.) Prepared specially for extremely rapid work. ACADEMY LANDSCAPE PLATES (Cream Label.) Specially prepared for Landscape work; very thickly coated and rich in Silver. * * * * * Marion's Argentic-Bromide Opals. Principally used for Enlargements and Contact printing. Very effective. COWAN'S GELATINO-CHLORIDE PLATES (Green Label). For Lantern Slide Work. COWAN'S CHLORO-BROMIDE PLATES (Violet Label). For making Transparencies in the Camera. COWAN'S GELATINO-CHLORIDE TRANSPARENCY PLATES. On ground glass. COWAN'S ORGANIC CHLORIDE OPALS (Red Label). Printed and toned like ordinary sensitised paper. Very artistic. They must be used fresh. MARION & CO., 22 and 23, Soho Square, LONDON. For PHOTOGRAPHIC GOODS AND PROMPT ATTENTION GO TO J. WERGE, PHOTOGRAPHIC STORES, 11a, Berners Street, Oxford Street, London. W. WERGE'S "Sans Ammonia Developer" is used by numerous expert amateurs. A 1/- bottle will develop 128 quarter-plates, any make. WERGE'S Dry Plate Varnish dries without heat, and protects the negatives from silver and platinum stains, 1/- per bottle and upwards. WERGE'S Retouching Medium, 1/- per bottle. WERGE'S Sensitised Paper is the best. 12/6 per quire; sample sheet 10d. post free. WERGE'S Borax Toning Solution gives the best tones, and is simplest and most economical. 1/- per pint. WERGE'S Ferro-Prussiate Paper gives the best results with least trouble. 1/- per sheet. WERGE'S Shilling Lantern is the best ever introduced. WERGE'S Dry Plate Instructions are the best ever published. 1/1-1/2 post free, including Jabez Hughes's "Principles and Practice of Photography." Wet Plate Process, Printing, &c., &c. J. H. DALLMEYER, OPTICIAN, 25, NEWMAN STREET, LONDON, W. Has obtained the highest awards for his Lenses wherever exhibited, and at all the great International Exhibitions. * * * * * CASH PRICES OF THE PRINCIPAL PORTRAIT AND VIEW LENSES: EXTRA RAPID (C). in. in. 2C, For Children, 2-3/4 dia. 4-1/2 f. £15 15 0 3C " 3-1/2 " 6 f. 26 5 0 QUICK ACTING (B). in. distance. 1B, for C.D.V. 2 dia. 12 ft. £6 5 0 1B Long, " 2-1/8 " 14 ft. 6 15 0 2B, " 2-3/4 " 18 ft. 12 16 0 2B Patent, " 2-3/4 " 18 ft. 13 5 0 3B " Cabts. and 3-1/2 " 18 ft. 20 0 0 4B " larger 4-1/2 " 25 ft. 40 0 0 NEW RAPID RECTILINEAR PORTRAIT LENSES. See descriptive Catalogue. ORDINARY INTENSITY (A)--Patent. 1A, for Cabinets, in short rooms. dia. 2-3/4 in., distance 14 ft. £13 0 0 2A, for Cabinets up to 8-1/2 × 6-1/2, dia. 3-1/2 in., distance 20 feet 18 0 0 3A, for Cabinets up to 9 × 7, dia. 4 in., distance 24 feet 27 5 0 4A, for Imperial Portraits and 10 × 8 dia. 4-1/2 in., focus 14 in. 38 10 0 5A, for plates 15 × 12 and under, dia. 5 in., focus 18 in. 50 0 0 6A, for plates 20 × 16 and under, dia. 6 in., focus 22 in. 60 0 0 PORTRAIT AND GROUP (D)--Patent. 3D, Portraits 8-1/2 × 6-1/2, Views 10 × 8, dia. 2-1/8 in., focus 10-1/2 in. 9 10 0 4D, Portraits 10 × 8, Views 12 × 10, dia. 2-7/8 in., focus 13 in. 13 10 0 5D, Portraits 12 × 10, Views 15 × 12, dia. 3-1/4 in., focus 16 in. 17 10 0 6D, Portraits 15 × 12, View. 18 × 16, dia. 4 in., focus 19-1/2 in. 26 10 0 7D, Portraits 18 × 16, Views 22 × 20, dia. 5 in., focus 24 in. 48 0 0 8D, Portraits 22 × 20, Views 25 × 21, dia. 6 in., focus 30 in. 58 0 0 STEREOSCOPIC LENSES. Patent Stereographic Lens, 3-3/4-in. f. 4 5 0 Ditto, with rack-and-pinion 4 15 0 No. 1, Quick-acting Single Combination Landscape Lens, 4-1/2 in. focus 2 0 0 No. 2, Ditto ditto 6 in. focus 2 5 0 Rect. Stereo. Lenses, 2 in. & 2-1/2 in. focus 4 0 0 NEW RECTILINEAR LANDSCAPE LENS (Patent). Largest Dimensions Diameter Equiv. No. of Plate. of Lenses. Focus. Price. -- -------------------- ----------- ---------- -------- 1 6-1/2 by 4-3/4 in. 1-1/2 in. 8-1/2 in. £4 15 0 2 8-1/2 " 6-1/2 " 1-3/4 " 11-1/2 " 6 0 0 3 10 " 8 " 2 " 13-1/2 " 8 0 0 4 12 " 10 " 2-1/4 " 16-1/2 " 10 5 0 5 15 " 12 " 2-2/3 " 20 " 12 10 0 6 18 " 16 " 3 " 25 " 16 0 0 7 22 " 20 " 3-1/2 " 32 " 21 0 0 OPTICAL LANTERN LENSES ONLY (Patent). No. 1 Lens, 1-1/2 in. and 1-3/4 in. dia. with Rack Motion £ 4 0 No. 2 do. 1-3/4 in. and 2 in. do. do. 5 0 _Condensers_--3-1/2 in. dia. mounted, ea. £ 5 0 _Do._ 4 in. do. do. do. 6 0 RAPID RECTILINEAR (PATENT). The best Lens for general use out-of-doors, and for Copying. Price, Size of View Size of Group Equiv. Rigid or Landscape. or Portrait. Focus. Setting. -------------------- ------------------- ----------- -------- 4-1/4 by 3-1/4 in. 3-1/4 by 3-1/4 in. 4 in. £3 15 0 5 " 4 " 4-1/4 " 3-1/4 " 6 " 4 10 0 6 " 5 " 5 " 4 " 8-1/4 " 5 10 0 8-1/2 " 6-1/2 " 8 " 5 " 11 " 7 0 0 10 " 8 " 8-1/2 " 6-1/2 " 13 " 9 0 0 12 " 10 " 10 " 8 " 16 " 11 0 0 13 " 11 " French size 17-1/2 " 12 0 0 15 " 12 " 12 by 10 in. 19-1/2 " 15 0 0 18 " 16 " 15 " 12 " 24 " 20 0 0 22 " 20 " 18 " 16 " 30 " 27 0 0 25 " 21 " 22 " 20 " 33 " 32 0 0 WIDE ANGLE RECTILINEAR (Patent). For Views in Confined Situations. Largest Dimensions Back Equiv. No. of Plate. Focus. Focus. Price --- ---------------- ---------- ----------- -------- [A]AA 7-1/4 by 4-1/2 1-1/2 in. 4 in. £4 10 0 1A 8-1/2 " 6-1/2 4-5/8 " 5-1/4 " 5 10 0 1 12 " 10 6-1/4 " 7 " 7 10 0 2 15 " 12 7-1/2 " 8-1/2 " 10 10 0 3 18 " 16 11 " 13 " 14 0 0 4 22 " 20 14 " 15-1/2 " 20 0 0 5 25 " 21 17 " 19 " 30 0 0 [A] To be had in pairs for Stereoscopic Views. WIDE ANGLE LANDSCAPE LENS (Patent), for Landscapes, pure and simple. Size of Equivalent No. Plate. Focus. Price. --- ---------------- ---------- -------- 1A 5 by 4 5-1/4 in. £3 5 0 1 7-1/4 " 4-1/2 7 " 3 15 0 2 8-1/2 " 6-1/2 8-1/2 " 4 10 0 3 10 " 8 10 " 5 10 0 4 12 " 10 12 " 7 0 0 5 15 " 12 15 " 8 10 0 5A 15 " 12 18 " 9 10 0 6 18 " 16 18 " 10 10 0 7 22 " 20 22 " 14 0 0 8 25 " 21 25 " 19 0 0 NEW RAPID LANDSCAPE LENS. For Distant Objects and Views. Largest Dimensions Diameter Equiv. Price. No. of Plate. of Lenses. Focus. --- -------------------- ---------- ------ -------- 1 6-1/2 by 4-3/4 in. 1·3 in. 9 in. £4 10 0 2 8-1/2 " 6-1/2 " 1·6 " 12 " 5 15 0 3 10 " 8 " 2·125 " 15 " 7 10 0 4 12 " 10 " 2·6 " 18 " 9 10 0 5 15 " 12 " 3 " 22 " 11 10 0 6 18 " 16 " 3·5 " 25 " 14 0 0 7 22 " 20 " 4·25 " 30 " 17 10 0 _DALLMEYER "On the Choice and Use of Photographic Lenses."_ Eighth Thousand (Greatly Enlarged), 1s. Descriptive Catalogue on application. 25, NEWMAN STREET, OXFORD STREET, LONDON, W. * * * * * Transcriber's note: Obvious typographical errors were corrected. The spelling of French words has been made consistent. Also made consistent were those words which appear as hyphenated, joined or as two individual words (for example, first class to first-class and some one to someone). Other corrections were made where inconsistent or incorrect spellings were used in the publication. Where the inconsistencies occur in publication titles or quoted text passages, they were left as published. All "oe" ligatures in the printed text were converted to the letters "oe". Some of the entries in the INDEX appear to be missorted alphabetically. They were left as printed. On page 114, one line ends with "modifica-" and it is assumed "tion" was left off the next line. Typographical Corrections Page Correction ==== ======================= 114 modifica- => modification 131 Willat's => Willats's 134 intotroduced => introduced 163 Frith => Firth 177 Coxackie => Coxsackie 186 Pearce => Pierce 248 Nicolas Maas => Nicolaes Maes 
63428	----	provided on The Internet Archive. All resultant materials are placed in the Public Domain. Transcriber Note: Text emphasis denoted as _Italics_ and =Bold=. VOL. II. JUNE 1, 1851. NO. 2. =THE= =DAGUERREIAN JOURNAL:= =Devoted to the Daguerrian and Photogenic Arts.= Also, embracing the Sciences, Arts, and Literature. [Illustration] S. D. HUMPHREY AND L. L. HILL, EDITORS. NEW-YORK: PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY, AT $3 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. NO. 311 BROADWAY. SUBJECT TO NEWSPAPER POSTAGE.--See 3d page cover. =CONTENTS.= Some experiments and remarks on the changes which bodies are capable of undergoing in darkness, and on the agent producing these changes, by Robert Hunt, 33 Railroad to the Pacific, 35 Experiments on the colored films formed by iodine, bromine, and chlorine, upon various metals, by Augustus Waller, M. D., 36 Iodine with silver and copper, 39 Bromine with silver and copper, 40 Chlorine with silver and copper, 40 Iodine with titanium, 40 Bromine with titanium, 40 Chlorine with titanium and copper, 40 Iodine with bismuth and silver, 40 Iodine with mercury, 40 Bromine with mercury and copper, 41 Chlorine with mercury and copper, 41 Bromine with lead, 41 Iodine with iron, 41 The American electric telegraph, 42 Iron pavement, 43 Claudet's specification, 44 Interesting experiment with strychnia, 48 Editorial--Operation of light on silver surfaces, 49 Letter from L. L. Hill, 50 Papers of S. A. Wolcott, 51 The natural colors in photography, 52 Our Daguerreotypes--Butler--E. Long--L. M. Ives--N. E. Sissons-- J. D. Wells, 53 Submarine telegraph between England and France, 53 Action of solutions of chlorides and air on mercury, 55 The heat of combinations, 55 Daguerreotype, by John Johnson, 56 Galvanized Daguerreotype plates, 57 Answers to Correspondents, 58 Advertisements, 59 Artists' Register, 63 * * * * * =S. J. THOMPSON,= WOULD most respectfully announce to the public, that he has one of the best sky-lights in the United States, and is prepared to execute Daguerreotypes. Likenesses of all sizes, put up in every style of the Art. No. 57 State-street, Albany, N. Y. 21y * * * * * =J. H. WHITEHURST'S= =ELECTRO DAGUERREOTYPES,= _Galleries, 207 Baltimore Street, Baltimore,_ Broadway, New York, 77 Main street, Richmond, Va., Main street, Norfolk, Va., Sycamore street, Petersburg, Va., Main street, Lynchburg, Va., Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington city. Likenesses taken equally well in all weather. 2tf * * * * * =J. D. WELLS,= DAGUERREIAN ARTIST, No. 6 Kirkland's Block, Main Street; Northampton, Mass. Likenesses taken by a sky-light connected with a beautiful side-light. Pictures put up in all styles of the Art. Plates, Cases, Lockets, Frames, and all kinds of Daguerreotype Stock for sale. 2-3 * * * * * =J. E. MARTIN,= "EXCELSIOR ROOMS" Jefferson Avenue and Odd Fellows' Hall, Detroit. Daguerreotype Likenesses taken in every style of the Art. 21y * * * * * =HARRISON'S CAMERAS.= The attention of those about purchasing instruments, is directed to the following recommendation from one of the oldest operators in the country, and one who has been "tried in the furnace" of experience: Waterbury, Ct., April 1, 1851. C. C. Harrison, _Dear Sir_,--It affords me much pleasure, after giving the instrument I purchased of you last week a fair trial, and having had eleven years experience as an operator, to be enabled to bear testimony to the superiority of your Cameras over all others, not excepting those made by "Voightlander & Sohn," for the sale of which I was sometime agent at Boston. Yours respectfully, Albert Litch, Formerly of the firm of Litch & Whipple, Boston, Mass. * * * * * =THE= =DAGUERREIAN JOURNAL.= ======================================================= Vol. II. NEW YORK, JUNE 1, 1851. No. 2 ======================================================= =SOME EXPERIMENTS AND REMARKS= =ON THE CHANGES WHICH BODIES ARE CAPABLE OF UNDERGOING= =IN DARKNESS, AND ON THE AGENT PRODUCING THESE CHANGES.= BY ROBERT HUNT. [Concluded.] With the view of testing Dr. Draper's results, I carefully iodized two silver plates and exposed them to light. I then placed them so that half of one plate was covered by half of the other, and allowed them to remain in the dark 1-24th of an inch apart for four hours. On mercurialization I could not detect the slightest difference between the covered and uncovered portions of either of the plates. Another silver plate was iodized and exposed to light. It was then placed in the dark wish a sensitive plate which had been carefully kept from the light, 1-16th of an inch above it, and a small engraving placed between them. They were allowed to remain thus for six hours. When exposed to the vapor of mercury, the plate which had been subjected to the light whitened all over, and the space occupied by the engraving was distinctly marked by lines of vapor thicker than the other parts. The plate which had been preserved in the dark was scarcely at all influenced by the vapor, except on those parts which had been touched by the supports of card-board on which it rested. These were so arranged that no radiation could have influenced those parts of the plates. An iodized silver plate was placed in the dark with a little fine string coiled over parts of it, and a polished silver plate supported 1-8th of an inch above it. After four hours both plates were subjected to mercurial vapor. On the iodized plate the deposit of vapor was uniform, although slight; but on the superposed plate of silver a strong and beautiful image of the string on the under plate became visible. I found that neither of the two iodized plates had lost their sensitiveness by the operations to which they had been subjected in the dark. Hoping to detect some evidence of the process by which these singular results were produced, I instituted a series of experiments, of which the following are some of the most interesting results. A. A silver plate was iodized, a piece of card was placed upon it, and a well-polished mercurial plate (amalgamated copper) was suspended 1-8th of an inch above it, and left in this state for a night. The space on the silver plate corresponding with the mercurial plate, except under the card, was nearly freed of its iodine, which had evidently combined with the mercury on the upper plate. On exposing the mercurial plate to the vapor of mercury the image of the card was rendered visible, the vapor covering every part of the plate except that opposite the card. The silver plate received the vapor only on those parts which were not influenced by the mercurial plate. The upper plate was suspended by strings; these were faithfully imaged on both plates; by a thick line of mercurial vapor on the under plate, by the absence of it in the upper one. B. An iodized _silvered_ plate was exposed to light until brown, and a mercurial plate suspended above it for twelve hours. The browned silver plate was _whitened_, and all the irregularities of the mercurial plate strikingly marked on it: the mercurial plate was slightly tarnished. On rubbing the silvered plate it was found that the silver was removed more readily over the whitened portion, but had lost none of its adhesion in other parts. C. Over an iodized silver plate, plates of gold, platina, silver, brass, copper, copper amalgamated, and zinc were placed at the distance of 1-8th of an inch. After three hours the amalgamated plate had made a decidedly visible impression on the silver one. On exposure to vapor, the mercury lodged on every part of the plate except that affected by the mercurial plate; some irregularities were observed, but none which could be decidedly traced to the other metals in juxtaposition. I have some evidence that different metals near each other seriously interfere with each other's influence. D. A mercurial plate was iodized, and another mercurial plate placed 1-8th of an inch above it. The upper plate became covered with a bright yellow film; and on exposing them to mercurial vapor, marks became apparent which corresponded with those in the opposite plate. E. A silver plate was iodized and placed in the dark with an engraving, face down, upon it. An amalgamated copper plate was laid on this, and left for fifteen hours. The mercurial plate was reddened, and on exposure to the vapor of mercury, a very nice impression of the engraving was brought out, it having been effected through the thickness of the paper. On the silvered plate the space covered by the paper was well marked; but vaporization produced no trace of the engraving. The space beyond the paper was rendered white. It was curious that both plates had several spots which corresponded, particularly two, distinguished by a well-defined circle and a comet-like appendage, in length ten times the diameter of the circle. These spots could not be traced to anything visible in the print or either of the plates, and must, I think, be referred to some electrical influence. I find it indeed commonly the case, that the plates, after being subjected to these kind of experiments a few times, become mottled, or present on their polished faces all the appearances of a finely-grained wood, and in this state they are less susceptible of receiving any impression than when not so. F. A silver plate was iodized and placed upon an engraving laid on a brightly polished mercurial plate, and left in the dark for twenty-four hours. The mercurial plate was turned brown, and the silver plate was left in the same state as if it had been exposed to sunshine, being _brown and black_. Neither of these plates gave a copy of the picture. G. A mercurial plate was iodized, and above it was placed a plate of polished iron, a disc of paper being first laid on the mercurial plate, and they were left in this state for some hours. On exposing the iron plate to mercurial vapor, it was abundantly lodged over that space opposite the paper disc, but not at all on the other parts. The mercurial plate was attacked by vapor over every part but that which the paper disc protected. Lead and zinc plates were used instead of the iron one, with nearly similar results. H. A Daguerreotype was taken, and without removing the iodine a mercurial plate was placed a little above it, and left for ten hours. When removed, well-defined traces of the Daguerreotype picture were evident on the mercurial plate, which leads me to hope that by careful manipulation we may succeed in multiplying these beautiful productions by an easy method. I became desirous of ascertaining whether the mercurial plates would produce any change upon the precipitated iodide of silver. I find by many experiments, that if the iodide of silver is pure, no more change is produced than is produced upon it by diffused light; but if it is rendered sensitive by a trace of the nitrate of silver, it is then darkened as by solar influence. Sensitive iodide of silver being placed upon a plate of glass, a mercurial plate was fixed 1-8th of an inch above it. In three days the iodide of silver had become a deep brown, almost a black, and the mercurial plate was covered with the yellow iodide of mercury. Nitric acid dissolved the dark portion of the silver salt, as did also ammonia, on which was formed Faraday's oxide of silver, thereby proving the change, either by a primary or a secondary process, of the iodide into the oxide of silver. This experiment has been repeated at least a dozen times, and always with the same results. If a little heap of the iodide of silver is placed under a mercurial plate, it is exceedingly interesting to witness the gradual formation of the very beautiful colored rings on the mercury in the progress of its conversion into an iodide. By prolonged action the yellow iodide passes into the bright red biniodide of mercury. I have some experiments now in hand, which convince me that similar chemical changes are to be effected through considerable spaces. I have succeeded in decomposing the iodide of copper and the iodide of gold by mercurial plates placed nearly a quarter of an inch above them. I have an extensive record of results similar to those I have now detailed, all of them showing that the changes brought about by this mysterious agent, whether it be heat, light, or an undiscovered element, cannot be referred to those rays which the admirable researches of Sir John Herschel have shown to be the operative ones in producing the photographic phenomena which have so interested the world by their novel beauty, and which professor Draper includes within his general term--tithonicity. With regard to the detithonizing influence of the gases mentioned by Dr. Draper in his paper in your March number, I can only consider the results, which I find to be as he has stated, as the simple reconversion of the decomposed iodide of silver into another definite chemical compound. An iodized plate is exposed to light, the iodide of silver or other sensitive salt is decomposed, and in a state to receive mercurial vapor. It is now passed through an atmosphere of iodine, of chlorine, of bromine, or of nitrous gas. Chemists are well aware of the surprising energy with which these bodies attack the metals, consequently the exposure of a moment is quite sufficient to convert the surface which has undergone a change, into an iodide, chloride, bromite, or nitrite of silver. I certainly cannot see the necessity of going so far out of our way for an explanation of this effect as Dr. Draper has done. I fear I have already occupied too much of your valuable space, or I might be inclined to trespass further. I shall, however drop my pen for the present, again assuring you that I only desire to keep the image of Truth which is just shadowing our path, as free as possible from mists which might in any way obscure it.--_Philosophical Magazine_, 1843. * * * * * Railroad to the Pacific.--Forest Shepherd, of Sacramento City, says it is now ascertained almost beyond doubt, that a railroad can be constructed from the Mississippi to the Pacific, without crossing any mountains, or meeting more impediment from snow than between Albany and Boston. * * * * * =EXPERIMENTS ON THE COLORED FILMS= =FORMED BY IODINE, BROMINE, AND CHLORINE UPON VARIOUS METALS.= BY AUGUSTUS WALLER, M. D. In a paper presented by me to the Academy of Sciences of Paris, an extract from which may be seen in the _Comptes Rendus_ for October 5, 1840, I first demonstrated the error committed in ascribing to the iodide of silver alone the power of fixing the vapors of mercury, after it had been exposed to the action of light. Instead of this property being exclusively confined to a film of iodide of silver, as obtained in the process of M. Daguerre, I found that it existed in many other substances when presented to the action of light in the state of thin films, viz. by the bromide and chloride of silver; by the oxide, bromide, iodide and chloride of copper, and some others; all these, however, possessing less sensibility than the iodide of silver of Daguerre, and therefore less available for the reproduction of the images of the camera than the compound originally discovered by that gentleman. The iodide of Daguerre was found already too little sensitive to the influence of light in this climate, especially when applied to the reproduction of the image of animate objects, so that those films discovered by me seemed still less suitable to be employed for that purpose; this objection has, however, been completely removed by recent improvements, more particularly those of M. Claudet, who effected this principally by combining the original discovery of Daguerre with those mentioned above as having been subsequently made by myself. Pursuing the first stage of Daguerre's process, he obtained the film of iodide of silver, and added to this another film of bromide, either in a simple state,--as practised in my experiments published more than six months before--or after two of these substances had been combined together, as the chloride of iodine and the bromide of iodine, which he was the first to employ. These colored films, however, merit attention independently of the purposes to which they may be applied in photography: the beauty of some of the phenomena themselves is peculiarly attractive; the numerous changes of color they undergo, either by a variation in the thickness of the film, or by the action of light, assign them a place among the most curious facts of science, and the extreme facility with which they are obtained adds to the interest they excite. Impressed with these ideas, I was induced to pursue a train of investigation on this subject; among the results of which, one of the most interesting was a new method of making colored rings, like those generally known under the name of "Newton's colored rings," on many of the metals, by the same chemical process as that employed for forming the films of uniform thickness in photography. In order to procure these colored rings, and at the same time to show the identity of the origin of the colors with those of the ordinary transparent films, that is, as residing simply in the thickness of the lamina and not dependent on the ordinary cause of color, we have but to place a piece of iodine on a well-polished surface of silver or copper, and in a short time we find around the iodine a series of colored zones of the various tints of the spectrum, and approaching in a greater or less degree to the form of a circle, according as they have been more or less disturbed in their formation by currents of the surrounding air. In order that they may be perfectly regular, as large as possible, and with tints undisturbed by the action of light, it is necessary to place a piece of iodine in the centre of a well-polished plate, as before described; this is then to be shaded by an opake screen superimposed a few lines from the surface to cause the vapors which would otherwise ascend and partially escape, to expand over its silver surface. Colored rings may be formed in the same manner by bromine and chlorine and the various combinations of these bodies with each other, except that for those that are gaseous or liquid it is requisite to pay a little attention to the manner of disengaging them on the surface of the metal, either by passing them through a glass tube, or by some other contrivance easy to execute. These rings correspond to those formed by reflected light in Newton's experiments, with this difference, however, that in the colored films of the soap bubble, and in those formed by the glass lenses, the thinest film is in the centre; whilst in these rings, obtained by chemical action, it exists at the circumference, as is the case with the colored rings of Nobili. In watching the formation of these phenomena, at first are seen two or three very small circles, which appear almost as soon as the iodine and the metal are placed in contact with each other; as the experiment continues, the circumference of these circles become gradually greater; whilst the external colors extend themselves over a great space, those of the centre grow fainter; red and green now only remain visible, and these at last, when the film has attained a certain thickness, in their turn also give place to a dull coating of brown. The formation of these rings evidently depends on the vaporization of the iodine from the solid nucleus. The variety in color and extent of these zones is caused by the difference between the strength of the vapor at the centre and the circumference of the iodic atmosphere whilst expanding over so large a surface. In the metal thus combining with the vapor, we have to consider,--1, the force of the vapor of different distances from the centre; 2, the obstacle which a film of iodine, once formed, opposes to any further action between the iodine and the metal. This experiment may be varied in different ways: two pieces of iodine of about the same size, placed at a small distance from each other on a silver plate, form separate colored circles, until these come in contact at their circumferences, when the two systems will slowly coalesce and produce one common outline of the form of an ellipsis. As the colors formed on various metals by the above-mentioned agents are very similar to one another, it may be sufficient to examine in particular those produced on silver by iodine. The external film of the iodide of silver rings, which corresponds to the central black spot in those of Newton, is completely invisible, it being impossible to perceive any difference between the parts so covered and those where the metal is intact; but by exposing half the plate to the influence of light, whilst the other part remains covered, the silver is then found darkened far beyond the limits of the external gold-colored zone, where previously the surface was perfectly clear. The dark film thus rendered apparent is now liable to be rubbed off by the slightest friction, whereas before it was very adherent to the subjacent surface. The first zone is of a pale gold color, which assumes a deeper tint as the thickness of the film increases: the second zone is blue, the third white: after these appear the different colors of the spectrum in regular succession, as in the films studied by Newton and others, viz. yellow, orange, red, blue green, yellow &c. The presence of the golden-colored zone in the place mentioned is worthy of remark, as in the tables of Newton of the colors presented by films of various thicknesses, the blue is stated as immediately following the black. The same gold film is the first which appears on most metals when their surface is attacked in this manner. Chlorine and bromine on silver; oxygen on steel; chlorine and bromine on titanium, bismuth, &c., commence their colors in the same way. Copper, however, is in one respect an exception, this metal first becoming of a dark red, which increases to a ruddy brown and then changes into blue. This deviation is fully accounted for by the color of the copper itself. With this single particularity, this metal undergoes the same alterations as the others. The action of light on the different colors of the iodide of silver is very interesting: the most correct way of studying this is to protect one half of a system of colored rings by an opake screen, while the other half is exposed for a short time to the influence of the solar rays. The golden zone undergoes the greatest change; at first it grows darker, then red, and at length is converted into a beautiful green. The blue film, which comes next in thickness, suffers considerable alteration in its tint, assuming a much deeper and more brilliant shade; the rest of the colors appear to be similarly affected by the action of light, though to a very slight degree, acquiring a trifling accession in their brilliancy. It has already been remarked that light destroys the adherence of the external invisible film; the same thing obtains with the second or gold-colored film, which turns green, _but only to a certain depth_ of the film, as may be proved by slightly rubbing the part thus altered; the green color is then seen to disappear, and beneath the pulverulent portion thus removed is found the gold color, having almost the same appearance as before the plate had been exposed. As this experiment may be repeated several times with the same results, it shows to how inconceivably small a depth the light has acted to produce this effect. To ascertain what would take place on augmenting the thickness of the portion turned green, and the adherence of which was destroy ed, a piece of iodine was placed on the plate so that its vapor, by expanding, might arrive upon the green, at the same time the whole being kept from the light; the result was that the additional film combined with the one already existing, producing a blue, being the color which would have resulted by the combination of the unaltered yellow films. I have found no chemical substance possessing the power of arresting, or in any way influencing these changes of color; strong adds, provided they do not attack the silver--for then, of course, the experiment would be destroyed,--and alkalies in concentrated solution, allow the action of light to go on as usual. The hyposulphate of soda, and ammonia in solution have no longer the power of dissolving the green film as they had before the action of light. When the plate is left still longer exposed, after the changes above stated have taken place, the colors become more faint, and within the zone of green a white cloudy film is caused by the light, which, as it increases, veils the spectral colors beneath. The knowledge we at present possess in chemistry of the affinities with which different bodies are endowed for combining with each other is but very imperfect, and the causes which complicate most chemical phenomena are so numerous, that it is scarcely possible to compare any two chemical actions to each other. Most of the facts upon which chemical science is founded, are acquired either by bringing the two bodies destined to act on each other into contact by dissolving them in a liquid, or by subjecting them to a temperature more or less elevated. In the first of these methods, we are so far from being able to calculate the force of the chemical powers called into play, that Berthollet was induced to deny the existence of chemical power in the various phenomena of solution and precipitation of saline substances, and according to him what is called insolubility in a body is merely the result of its strength of cohesion, an entirely physical property. When the intervention of caloric is required, the effects are still more complicated, as they vary according to the intensity of the heat employed, and the time its action is exerted; besides, the chemical action, when it does take place, is frequently so instantaneous that it is impossible in our present state of science to imagine any means by which it might be measured. In the combination of the three bodies, iodine, bromine and chlorine, with the metals, however, most of these objections cease to exist, or may be easily avoided. As their vapors combine with the metallic surfaces at the ordinary temperature, they are all of them in the same circumstances in that respect; and if the temperature should be required more elevated, the gasiform state of these substances, iodine not excepted, enables us to submit the metals to be experimented upon all at the same time to the same influence. If, therefore, it were possible to reduce the metallic substances into fine powders the particles of which were of the same dimensions, by acting upon them with either of these vapors, an idea might be formed of the affinities which produce their binary compounds by the increased weight acquired by the powders in this process; but the difference which exists in the physical properties of the various metals would preclude the possibility of any near approach to accuracy in this mode of proceeding; but by acting on the polished metallic surfaces, as in the preceding experiments, all the advantages offered by the process with the powders are included, whilst several of the difficulties are removed. As the film of the compound augments, it undergoes the various changes of color which take place in all transparent films, thus affording a means of ascertaining the absolute thickness obtained in different circumstances, when it would be difficult to detect the slightest difference in weight by means of the most delicate balance. The depth of this coating may be ascertained when either the index of refraction of the compound itself is known, or if the angle of polarized light is given by means of the law discovered by Sir David Brewster, between the tangent of the angle of polarization, and the index of refraction. The most convenient way which occurred to me of performing these experiments, was the employment of a bell-glass within which some iodine is fixed at the top; this apparatus being placed over the metal to be acted on, the experiment may be watched in all its progress, and the action can be retarded or accelerated at pleasure by varying the interval of the iodine from the metal, or by interposing at some distance from its surface a disc of paper so as to cause the vapors of iodine to pass through it. Bromine may be made use of likewise by pouring a few drops of it over some carded cotton, and using it in a similar manner with the iodine. In respect to chlorine, it is most convenient to disengage it slowly by dropping a little sulphuric acid upon some chlorinated lime. In illustration of the objects of this mode of experimenting, I will aduce some of the results it has given me with various metals. Some of the experiments below were performed before I had the idea of watching the progress of the combination through a transparent medium; they are therefore less exact than they might otherwise have been: but I have preferred stating them as I had inserted them in my note-book before I had conceived any idea as to their probable utility in the elucidation of chemical affinity, and when I intended them for other purposes, which I shall hereafter explain. _Iodine with Silver and Copper._ 1st change. Silver--pale gold. " Copper--assumes a darker red. " Silver--blue. 2nd do. Copper--blue. " Silver--white. 3rd do. Copper--white. " Silver--yellow. 4th do. Copper--yellow more extended than on the silver. " Silver--Orange. 5th do. Copper--Red. " Silver--blue, bluish-red. " Copper--red, with a tinge of green on some parts. " Silver--greenish blue. " Copper--red, tinged with green. " Silver--green. " Copper--orange. " Silver--yellowish green. " Copper--orange tending to red. " Silver--yellowish green. " Copper--orange-red. " Silver--red. " Copper--dull green. " Silver--red. " Copper--green. " Silver--deep green. " Copper--dull red. _Bromine with Silver and Copper._ 5th change. Copper--sensibly darkened. " Silver--unchanged. " Copper--deep red. " Silver--unchanged. " Copper--red, blue. " Silver--pale gold. " Copper--white, orange of the 2d order. " Silver--yellow. " Copper--green of the 1st order, red 3rd order. " Silver--blue. _Chlorine with Silver and Copper._ The affinity of chlorine with silver is much inferior to that which it possesses for copper. _Iodine with Titanium._ Iodine at the common temperature has no action upon this metal. _Bromine with Titanium._ Bromine, when the surface of this substance is perfectly dry, has no more action upon it than iodine; but if it have a slight coating of moisture, as is formed by merely condensing on it the vapor of the breath, the colored films are formed without difficulty by the vapors of bromine. Their appearance is the same as those of the iodide of silver, viz. gold, deep gold, blue, white, yellow, orange, red, &c. _Chlorine with Titanium and Copper._ Titanium has a stronger affinity than it has for either of the preceding vapors. The combination takes place when the metallic surface is either dry or moist. Copper--much reddened. Titanium--not affected. Copper--passed through several of the spectral orders of red and green until it arrived at almost its last changes of colors. Titanium under the same action received a dull film, which viewed obliquely showed red, green, yellow. Silver, exposed to the same influence as the two former, had yellow in the centre and blue more externally. _Iodine with Bismuth and Silver._ Silver--pale gold. Bismuth--some parts yellow, others not attacked. Silver--blue, white, yellow-orange. Bismuth--blue, yellow, orange. In the action of iodine on bismuth, the influence of the physical condition of metallic surface is very manifest. The crystaline texture of this metal may be perceived, and the difference of its hardness admits, to a certain point, of being measured by the difference of the color of the films that are formed on various points; while most parts are yellow, there exist others of an angular outline which remain still unattacked; the same difference is remarked in the other stages of the combination. _Iodine with Mercury._ It is impossible to estimate the affinity between mercury and iodine by means of the colored films, because, on combining, these two substances merely cause a dirty white appearance on the surface of the latter. Their combining affinity appears to be considerable, for when exposed together with silver the action produced with both was red at the edges, little altered in color; on the rest of its surface a dull white film, in the midst of which were seen several dark spots, where the metal was apparently unaltered. _Bromine with Mercury and Copper._ 1st. Mercury--gold color. " Copper slightly darkened. 2nd. Mercury--blue. " Copper dark red. 3rd. Mercury--green on some parts. " Copper white. After this the copper underwent its usual changes of color on prolonging the action of the vapor of bromine, but the color of the mercury suffered no further change. _Chlorine with Mercury and Copper._ Mercury--a slight film. Copper no alteration of color. Mercury--deep gold color. Copper deep red on some parts, blue on others. Mercury--red tinged with blue. Copper blue, white. Mercury--blue. Copper same as before. "With respect to the bromide and chloride of mercury, it is necessary to view them obliquely in order to perceive all the changes of color they undergo; for if looked at perpendicularly, there is seen on both a dull uneven film of white which reflects none of the above colors: consequently, to avoid any error, the copper must be inspected under the same angle. _Bromine with Bismuth and Silver._ Silver--pale gold. Bismuth--not apparently changed. Silver--deep gold, blue. Bismuth--yellow, blue. Silver--blue, yellow. Bismuth--dull colorless film. _Chlorine with Bismuth and Silver._ Bismuth is slowly attacked with chlorine gas, much in the same way as with iodine and bromine in vapor. _Bromine with Lead._ At the common temperature neither bromine nor chlorine forms colored films upon this metal, which it is very difficult besides to bring to any high state of polish on account of its softness. But when lead is heated, as over the flame of a spirit-lamp, the vapors of bromine then form very fine colored films, which are in succession gold, deep blue, &c. _Iodine with Iron._ These two may be made to form colored films when combined rapidly together, but generally a dull coating without any spectral color is obtained, on account of the deliquescence of that salt. Until we know the index of refraction of the different films enumerated, it would be impossible to give a correct table of the combining powers in the experiments that have been detailed; nor is the table of the relative thickness of transparent plates as it has been transmitted to us by Newton, sufficient in the present instance, if any great degree of precision be required. Besides these objections, it is necessary before leaving this subject to pass in review several others inseparable from the mode of performing the experiments themselves. The principal circumstances complicating these experiments and liable to vary in different observations, are,-- First, the hardness of the metal acted upon; 2ndly, the obstacle opposed to the continuation of chemical action by the inert film formed upon the metal; 3rdly, the force of the vapors that attack the metal. The influence of the texture of the metallic surface on chemical action is most evident when bismuth is the metal employed. Here the chemical action may be seen to commence on small isolated portions of the surface, which have already assumed a deep gold color, before other parts are in the least changed, from the natural appearance of the metal. To determine how far this might influence the formation of the iodide of silver, a silver coin was exposed to iodine with a piece of pure silver; as the former was so much the harder of the two, it was naturally supposed that the chemical action would be slower in exerting itself on it than on the latter. This, however, was not the case, as may be seen by the following statement of the result of the experiment: Silver coin--pale gold color. Pure silver--pale gold. Silver coin--deep gold. Pure silver--deep gold. Silver coin--light blue. Pure silver--light blue. Silver chin--yellow. Pure silver--blue, white, yellow not visible. Silver coin--yellow, red at edges. Pure silver--yellow, no red edges. Silver coin--red, blue at edges. Pure silver--yellow, no red apparent. The intensity of the resistance offered by the different films of iodide of silver to a continuation of the chemical combination, may be determined by noting the moment at which the various spectral tints make their appearance. Color of the film of iodide of silver. ' " 0 50--beginning to darken. 2 0--pale gold. 4 40--deep gold. 6 40--orange blue. 7 30--blue. 9 30--light blue. 11 30--commencement of yellow. 18 30--orange red. 20 15--blue. 22 55--deep blue. 24 40--green. 28 0--yellowish green. 30 25--ruddy brown. 40 10--green. 46 30--green. 50 10--red. 53 15--green. By comparing the thickness of the colors with the space of time required for their production, it will be found, however imperfect the table given by Newton may be when applied to this subject, that towards the end of the experiment above given, the chemical combination is retarded by the presence of the inert film, and that to obtain the same thickness of film as at the commencement, about double the time is required. The third cause of error may be avoided by operating with vapors of about the same force. In those described, the average time employed in passing to the maximum was generally about half an hour; if that were not taken into consideration, different results might be obtained. In regard to chlorine, there exists another cause of complication--the affinity which it possesses for water; for when disengaged in the ordinary manner, chlorine carries with it a certain quantity of water which may very much alter the results of the experiment.--_Philosophical Magazine,_ 1842. * * * * * =THE AMERICAN ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH.= In each of the countries of Europe where the Electric Telegraph is established, viz.: Britain, France, Germany, and Russ a, the people seem anxious to claim for one or more of their own countrymen some merit in connection with the invention. The English speak of Wheatstone and Bain; the French of Le Sage; the Germans of Steinheil and Siemen; and the Russians of Schilling or Jacobi. Most of these inventors have their agents or representatives in different countries, ready on every suitable occasion to speak or write in behalf of their principal. The inventor of the American Electric Telegraph has, we believe, no agent in Europe; and no person there who has any special interest in promoting the introduction of his system. The adoption of it by the Prussian government for great distances, as decidedly the best which it could obtain, after advertising extensively in Europe, is, therefore, the more remarkable; and especially, as the only knowledge which the Prussians possess of the American system seems to have been derived from one imperfectly acquainted with its powers; for we can account in no other way for the fact that Siemen's needle apparatus is adopted for short distances; Morse's instruments being clearly superior to Siemen's, or to any other needle apparatus, for short as Well as for long distances; since they are much more rapid in their motion, and have, besides, the advantage of making a permanent record on paper, instead of merely indicating to the eye by an evanescent sign. No one using the telegraph in America, would think of employing a needle apparatus in any of its operations. In addition to the evidence of the high estimation of the American Telegraph by Europeans, furnished by this adoption of it in Prussia, we learn also from an elaborate work on Telegraphs by Dr. H. Schellen, recently published in Dusseldorf, that it is now introduced into other countries on that continent. Dr. S. says: "Of late the Morse Telegraphs are much used in Europe, viz: in England; between Hamburg and Cuxhaven; between Bremen and Bremer-haven; in Prussia, Austria, Bavaria and Hanover." Dr. S. might have added also that it is used in Turkey. Among the advantages of the American Telegraph, Dr. S. says, is its "quickness in making and marking the signs upon paper. * * * _It records under the hand of a skilful operator 100 to 120 letters, in the same time in which the best needle telegraphs are able to indicate 20._" While the superiority of the American Electric Telegraph to all others is thus acknowledged by Europeans, they do not seem to be aware that the date of the American invention is also prior in point of time to that of any of their own electric telegraphs. They very naturally regard the date of the patent as the date of the invention, because in every country in Europe the patent is given to the person who first promulgates the invention in that country; and it is not safe, therefore, in Europe, for an inventor to permit others to know any thing of his invention until he has patented it. But in America, where the law permits no one to take out a patent but the inventor, he is perfectly safe in communicating the knowledge of what he has done, and even in publicly exhibiting his invention, before he takes out his patent, provided he secures himself by a caveat, and does not offer it for sale, or permit it to go into common use. The inventor of the American Electric Telegraph, it is well known, exhibited his instruments in operation in the N. Y. University, in the presence of hundreds of our citizens in September, 1837, and privately to his friends at various times as far back as November 1835, although his first patent was not secured until 1838. No one claims for the inventions of either Wheatstone or Steinheil a date prior to 1837; and when European writers on the telegraph come to understand our laws, and the error into which they have fallen, by confounding the date of the American invention with the patent, they will no doubt do our country the justice to admit its claims to priority as well as to _superiority_.--_N. Y. Observer._ * * * * * Iron Pavement.--Iron is daily coming into more general use for almost every purpose. A letter from Paris, of a late date says: "A new pavement, to upset the Macadam and other inventions of the kind, has been proposed by Mr. Tobard, who intends paving, in this way, the streets and boulevards of Paris. This gentlemen has proved, by figures, that melting iron is only worth 11 francs in Paris, 7 francs in Belgium, and 4½ francs by 100 kilogrammes in England, whilst the stone costs 25 francs in London, 15 francs in Paris, and 8 and 10 francs in Belgium. This new mode of pavement will be grooved, in order not to become slippery, and it is said that the electricity occasioned by the rolling of the carriages will prevent rust. Here is a new field open to industry." CLAUDET'S SPECIFICATION. Sealed 21st November, 1843. We give the following as copied at the Patent Office in London. Many of our Daguerreotypists have enquired of us in relation to the patents on the Daguerreotype in England. To Autoine Jean Claudet, of High Holborn, in the county of Middlesex, glass merchant, for an invention of improvements in the process and means of obtaining the representation of objects of nature and art,--being a communication. [Sealed 21st November, 1843.] These improvements consist in rendering the Daguerreotype picture susceptible of producing, by printing, a great number of proofs or copies; thereby transforming it into a complete engraved plate. The process is established on the following facts, which have come to the knowledge of the inventor:-- 1st. A mixed acid, composed of water, nitric acid, nitrate of potassa, and common salt, in certain proportions, being poured upon a Daguerreotype picture, attacks the pure silver, forming a chloride of that metal, and does not effect the white parts, which are produced by the mercury; but this action does not continue long. Then, by a treatment with ammonia (ammonia containing already chloride of silver in solution, is preferable for this operation), the chloride of silver is dissolved, and washed off, and the metal being again in its naked state, or cleansed from the chloride, it can be attacked afresh by the same acid. This acid acts better warm than cold. 2d. As all metallic surfaces are soon covered (when exposed to the atmosphere) with greasy or resinous matters, it is necessary, in order that the action of the acid upon the pure silver should have its full effect, for the surface to be perfectly purified; this is effected by the employment of alcohol and caustic potash. 3d. When a Daguerreotype picture is submitted to the effects of a boiling concentrated solution of caustic potash, before being attacked by the acid, the state of its surface is so modified that the acid spares or leaves, in the part which it attacks, a great number of prints, which form the grain of the engraving. 4th. When the effects of the acid are not sufficient, or, in other words, it is not bitten deep enough, the effect is increased by the following process:--Ink the plate as copper-plate printers do, but with a siccative ink; when the ink is sufficiently dry, polish the white parts of the plate, and gild it by the electrotype process; then wash it with warm caustic potash, and bite it in with an acid, which will not attack the gold, but only the metal in those parts which having been protected by the ink, have not received the coating of gold. By these means the engraving is completed, as by the acid alone it is not generally bitten in deep enough. 5th. To protect the plate from the effects of wear, produced by the operation of printing, the following process is employed: The surface of the plate is covered with a thin coating of copper, by the electrotype process, before submitting it to the operation of printing; and when that pellicle or coating of copper begins to show signs of wear, it must be removed altogether, by plunging the plate in ammonia, or in a weak acid, which, by electro-chemical action, will dissolve the copper, without effecting the metal under it; the plate is then coppered again, by the same means, and is then ready for producing a further number of impressions. This re-coating operation may be repeated as many times as may be required. The following is the description of the whole process, which is divided into two parts, consisting of a preparatory and printing process. _Preparatory Engraving._--For this operation which is the most delicate, it is necessary to have--1. A saturated solution of caustic potash. 2. Pure nitric acid at 36° of the barometer of Beaumé (spec. grav. 1·333). 3. A solution of nitrate of potassa, composed of 100 parts of water, and 5 parts of nitrate, by weight. 4. A solution of common salt, composed of water 100 parts, and salt 10 parts by weight. 5. A weak solution of ammoniacal chloride of silver, with an access of ammonia. The ammoniacal chloride of silver must be diluted with 15 or 20 parts of pure water. In the description of the process, this solution will be called ammoniacal chloride of silver. 6. A weak solution of ammonia, containing 4 or 5 thousandths of liquid ammonia. This solution will be called ammoniacal water. 7. A weak solution of caustic potash, containing 4 or 5 thousandths of the saturated solution, which will be called alkaline water. 8. A solution composed of water 4 parts, saturated solution of potash 2 parts, alcohol 1 part, all in volume. This solution will be called alcoholized potash. 9. Acidulated water, composed of water 100 parts, and nitric acid 2 parts, in volume. Besides, it is necessary to have three capsulæ or dishes, made of porcelain, large enough to contain the plate, and covered with an air-tight piece of ground plate glass, and two or three more capsulæ, which do not require to be covered; two or three glass funnels, to wash the plate; and two or three glass holders, in the shape of a spoon or shovel, by which the plate is supported when put in and taken out of the solution, without touching it with the fingers. The Daguerreotype plate is submitted to the engraving process, after having been washed in the hyposulphate of soda, and afterwards in distilled water. _First process for biting in or engraving the plate._--The following solutions must be put in the capsulæ, in sufficient quantity, so as to entirely cover the plate:--1. Acidulated water. 2. Alkaline water. 3. Alcoholized potash, in covered capsulæ. 4. Caustic potash, in covered capsulæ. 5. Distilled water. The plate being then put upon the glass holder or spoon, is plunged in the acidulated water, and agitated during a few seconds, then put into a glass funnel, and washed with distilled water. It is taken again with the glass spoon, and plunged in the capsulæ containing alcoholized potash. This capsulæ is covered with its glass cover, and then heated, by means of a spirit lamp, to about 140° Fahrenheit. The plate must remain in the capsulæ half an hour, during which the solution is heated now and then, and agitated. During that time the following acid solution, which will be called _nomal acid_, must be prepared: it is composed as follows:--Water 600 parts, nitric acid 45 parts, solution of nitrate of potassa 12 parts, solution of common salt 45 parts. These proportions are in volume. The nomal acid must be poured in a capsulæ, covered with its glass cover, and a sufficient quantity must be kept in the bottle. When the plate has been immersed in the alcoholized potash during half an hour, it is taken out of the solution by means of the glass holder, and immediately plunged in the alkaline water, and agitated pretty strongly; from thence it is put in distilled water (A). This being done, the plate is plunged in the acidulated water, and moved about therein for a few seconds: it is then put into the nomal acid. When the plate has been immersed a few seconds in the acid, it is taken out by means of the glass holder, taking care to keep it as much as possible covered with the solution, and it is immediately placed horizontally upon a stand, and as much acid as the plate can hold is poured upon it from the bottle; it is then heated with a spirit lamp, but without attaining the boiling point. During this operation it is better to stir or move about the acid on the plate by pumping it, and ejecting it again, by means of a pipette or glass syringe; after two or three minutes the acid is thrown away, the plate is put in the glass funnel, and then well washed with water, and afterwards with distilled water (B). Thus, without letting the plate dry, it is put upon the fingers of the left hand, and with the right hand some ammoniacal chloride of silver, which is moved about the surface by balancing the hand is poured upon it; the solution is renewed until the chloride, formed by the action of acid, is dissolved; the plate is then washed by pouring upon it a large quantity of ammoniacal water, and afterwards some distilled water. (C.) Without allowing the plate to dry, it is then put in the caustic potash, and the capsula being then placed upon the stand, the potash is heated up to the boiling point; it is then left to cool (D); and beginning again the operations described from A, to D, a second biting is obtained; and by repeating again the operations described in A, and B, a third biting is produced. The plate is then dried; in this state the black parts of the plate are filled with chloride of silver. The plate is then polished until the white parts are perfectly pure and bright. This polishing is soon done with cotton and ('ponce') (pumice stone); afterwards, the chloride of silver, filling the black parts, is cleansed by the means described in B, and C. The plate is dried, but before drying, it is well to rub the plate slightly with the finger, in order to take off from the black parts any remains of an insoluble body, which generally remains on it. The preparatory engraving is then finished, and the plate has the appearance of a very delicate acquatint engraved plate, not very deeply bitten in. Nevertheless, if the operation has been well managed, and has been successful, it is deep enough to allow the printing of a considerable number of copies. _Note._--Sometimes, instead of treating the plate with the boiling potash in the capsula, a similar result may be obtained by placing the plate upon the stand, covering it with the solution, and heating it by means of a spirit lamp, until, by evaporation the potash becomes in a state of ignited fusion. By this means the grain is finer, but the white parts are more liable to be attacked. Last operation of biting in: This operation requires some of the re-agents, before-named, and also, 1. A siccative ink, made of linseed oil, rendered very siccative by boiling it sufficiently with litharge; it may be thickened with calcined lampblack. 2. An electrotype apparatus, and some solutions of it to gild, and copper the plate. Means of operating: The plate must be inked as copper-plate printers do, taking care to clean off the white parts more perfectly than usual; the plate is then to be placed in a room sufficiently warm, until the ink is well dried, which requires more or less time, according to the nature of the oil employed. The drying of the oil may be hastened by heating the plate upon the stand with the lamp, but the slow process is more perfect and certain. When the ink is well dried, the white parts are cleaned again, by polishing the plate with cotton and ponce, or any other polishing powder; a ball of cotton, or any other matter covered over with a thin piece of caoutchouc or skin, can be used for this purpose. When polished the plate is ready to receive the electro-chemical coating of gold, which will protect the white parts. _Gilding._--The gilding is obtained by any of the various processes of electrotyping that are known. The only indispensable condition is, that the surface obtained by the precipitation must not be liable to be attacked by the weak acid; a solution answering this purpose is made of 10 parts, (by weight), of ferocganide of potassium; 1 part of chloride of gold, and 1,000 parts of water, used with a galvanic battery. During the gilding the plate must be turned in several positions, in order to regulate the metallic deposit. In some cases the gilding may be made more perfect, if the plate is covered with a thin coating of mercury before putting in the gilding solution. When the plate is gilded, it must be heated with the boiling caustic potash, by the process already indicated for the preparatory engraving, in order to cleanse it from all the dried oil or ink, which fills the hollow. The plate is then washed and dried, and when the oil employed has been thickened with the lampblack, the surface of the plate is rubbed with crumbs of bread, in order to cleanse and take off the black remaining; then, the white parts being covered and protected by varnish not liable to be attacked, and the black parts being uncovered and clean, the plate can be bitten in by aqua-fortis, according to the ordinary process used by engravers. This operation must be used upon the stand, and not by immersing the plate in the solution. Before this biting in, if the preparatory engraving has not succeeded well, and the plate still wants a sufficient grain, it can be given by the various processes of aquatint engraving. Before submitting the plate to the operation of printing, in order to insure an unlimited number of copies, it is necessary, as before stated, to protect it by a slight coating of copper, which is obtained by the electrotype process; otherwise the printing would soon wear the plate. This coating must be kept very thin, but the fineness of the engraving, and the polish of the white parts, should be destroyed. In this state the plate can be delivered to the printer. After a certain number of impressions have been obtained, it will be perceived that the coating of copper is worn in some places; then this coating must be removed, and a fresh one applied in its place. For this purpose, the plate must be purified and cleansed by warm potash, and plunged in a weak acid, composed as follows:--Water, 600 parts; nitric acid, 50 parts; nitrous acid of engravers, 5 parts; all in volume. This acid will dissolve the coating of copper, and the plate being coppered again, by the same means as before, may be again submitted to the operation of printing; and as nothing can prevent the success of a repetition of the same operation, any number of impressions may be obtained. The coating of copper can also be removed by caustic ammonia. The Daguerreotype plate engraved by this process, may also be reproduced and multiplied by the electrotype process, the same as any other engraved plate. The essential points of this process, which constitute the present invention, consist,-- First,--in the discovery and employment of certain properties of a mixture composed of nitric acid, nitrous acid, and hydrochloric acid, in detrimental or fixed proportions. The two last mentioned acids may be employed either in a free state, or combined with alkaline or other bases. This mixed acid has the property of biting the pure silver, which forms the black parts of the Daguerreotype picture, without attacking the white parts formed by the amalgam of mercury. The result of the action of the biting is, to form on the black part of the picture an insoluble chloride of silver; and this chloride of silver, which, when formed, stops the action of the acid, is dissolved by the ammonia, which allows the biting to continue. Secondly,--In the discovery of certain properties of a warm solution of caustic potash, and in the employment of the said solution, by which the mercury forming the picture is better and deeper amalgamated with the silver under it, so that many imperceptible points of the amalgam are affected in such a manner that the action has no action upon them. Thirdly,--In the discovery and employment of a process which produces a grain favourable to the engraving, by which the biting on the plate is rendered deeper. This is effected by filling the parts engraved with a siccative ink, or any other substance, and then gilding the plate by the electrotype process: the gold is not deposited on the parts protected by the ink. When the plate is gilded, the ink is cleansed by the caustic potash, and the plate may be submitted to the effect of an acid, which does not attack the coating of gold, but bites only on the silver in the parts already engraved by the first operation. Fourthly,--In the employment of a process by which the plate is protected from the wear of the printing operation. This is effected by covering the plate before printing, with a slight coating of copper; by the electrotype process, and when the coating begins to wear, by printing, it is removed by a weak acid or by ammonia, which dissolves the copper without effecting the silver under it. The plate is coppered again, and after another printing, the same operation is repeated, so that a considerable number of copies may be printed without injury to the engraving. Enrolled in the Pitty Bag Office, May, 1844. * * * * * =INTERESTING EXPERIMENT WITH STRYCHNIA.= An interesting experiment, illustrative of the poisonous effects of strychnia, was recently made by Professor Agassiz, at Cambridge. The subject was a large black bear, about eighteen months old. The animal was taken when young, and had been kept in captivity for a considerable period. Professor Agassiz being desirous of killing it for the purpose of dissection, about three grains of strychnia were administered. The poison, though extremely bitter was readily swallowed. At the expiration of ten minutes, no effect having been produced, a second dose of about the same quantity was also inclosed in a biscuit and offered. The cunning animal broke open and swallowed the biscuit, but rejected the poison. The first portion, however, had proved efficacious, and in exactly fifteen minutes from the time when first administered, the animal was seized with terrible convulsions, and soon died. The whole time which elapsed between the taking of the poison and the death of the animal, did not exceed twenty-five minutes. In order to alleviate its sufferings and hasten death, a quantity of hydrocyanic acid was poured upon the nose and mouth of the bear. It did not, however, produce any sensible effect, and was not apparently taken into the system, as the animal at the time was nearly dead. But the subsequent effects of the poison were most remarkable. Although the bear, at the time of death, was in perfect health and strength, twenty-four hours had not elapsed before the body was in an advanced stage of decomposition. Indeed the appearances indicated that the animal had been dead for nearly two months. The interior of the body, when opened about twenty hours after death, still retained its warmth in a considerable degree, while an offensive gas issued from every pore. The blood had not coagulated, the spinal marrow and nerves were in a semi-fluid state, and the flesh had assumed a leaden-gray color. The hair of the hide readily came out on being slightly pulled. No smell of the hydrocyanic acid could be perceived. The origin of this singular and speedy decomposition is not fully known, though it is supposed to be due to the agency of the hydrocyanic acid. A chemical examination of the muscle, brain, nerves, liver and kidneys is now going on at the Cambridge laboratory, under the direction of Professor Horsford. One singular fact connected with the spontaneous decomposition of these parts is, that they all yielded or disengaged hydrosulphuric acid gas, with the exception of the liver, which did not.--_Annual of Scientific Discovery._ * * * * * =NOTICE.= A few copies only of Volume I. of the Daguerreian Journal can be had by applying at this office. Price three dollars. This is the most complete work ever published on the Daguerreian Art. Orders addressed to the publisher of this Journal. * * * * * =THE DAGUERREIAN JOURNAL= =NEW YORK, JUNE 1, 1851.= The metal which the Daguerreotypists have most to deal with is silver. To obtain plates of this perfectly clean and keep them so is one of the most difficult parts of his art; in order to accomplish it he is obliged to have resource to circuitous mechanical processes, or to some chemical means whereby the old surface may be removed, or a new surface deposited. He uses tripoli and rotten stone, rouge and buffing, fatty matters, alcohol, ammonia, and nitric acid, for the first purpose; and electro-plating for the second. The operator must not mistake the object he has in view. By all his mechanical operations, where friction is concerned, he obtains a _polished_ surface; but it is not to _polish_ the plate that he uses the buff, and the other materials; the object is to clean the plate, and the _polish_ of the surface follows as a natural result. That a polished surface is not necessary for the formation of an image is evident from photography on paper, and Hyalotype. In these cases the surfaces do not reflect light; they are not polished; they are merely clean. The fact of a plate freshly taken out of a cell where silver has been deposited on it receiving beautiful images, is another proof that polish is unnecessary for success. What is wanted is a surface of pure silver, one not coated with the slightest trace of oxide, carbonate, or sulphuret of silver, or with any impurity derived by contact with foreign matter. The Daguerreotypist has, then, two objects in view.--1st, to get a clean surface on his plate; and 2nd, this once obtained, to keep it so without further alteration. Although silver is classed with gold and platinum, as one of those metals which do not tarnish or oxidize readily on exposure to the air, yet it is now well known in practice what a difference exists in the character of the picture brought out on a plate recently polished and one set aside even for a few hours. It is true that the atmosphere alone will not affect or oxidize a plate of polished silver, but that is only true of a very dry atmosphere; for an atmosphere which contains even a small amount of moisture in it, will in a short time dull the surface of the plate. In this instance the moisture is deposited first, and brings the air into closer contact with the surface of the metal, promoting the union of the latter with the oxygen of the air. This is exemplified every day in the case of iron, which does not rust in dry weather, but when the air begins to deposit its moisture it rapidly oxydizes. So is it with lead and zinc, but in a less degree. Pure water has no effect in tarnishing the surface of a silver plate, but if it contains even a very small quantity of animal or vegetable matter it darkens the surface in consequence of the presence of sulphur. The ordinary tarnish of silver is due to the fastening upon the surface of sulfurous vapors, which are constantly floating in the air. We are scarcely yet in possession of sufficient facts to justify the statement that sun-light materially aids in this alteration. We do know that oxidizement in any substance goes on much more rapidly in sunshine than under any other circumstances. In the vegetable kingdom it is of hourly occurrence; but the different effects of shade and shine upon the oxidizement of plates of metal has not been minutely studied. However this may be, after a time the silver surface does get coated with a film, of partly sulphuret, partly oxide, and a complete layer of air, which so closely attaches itself to the plate that water when poured on it rolls off and does not wet the surface. It is this film, of air which mechanical friction and bulling are so serviceable in removing. The tarnish of a sulphuret is not so readily removed by friction as by ammonia, for the sulphuret of silver is, to some extent, soluble in ammonia; but as the sulphuret when present gives a yellowish brown tint to the surface, it is only then that it is needful, and even a weak solution of commom salt or hydrodate of potash cleans the surface much quicker. As nitric acid is the best solvent of silver, so is it the best agent to remove films of oxide and carbonate from the surface; it does so readily, effectually, and leaves a clean new surface of silver, similar to a plate newly prepared, or one which has received a new coating in the electrotype cell. The acid, however, must be very much diluted, otherwise its local action is so immediate as to eat down the surface of the plate faster than it spreads, producing inequalities,--even when left long on, although diluted, it produces roughness; hence its use has not been happy in many hands. To such, the longer, but less failing processes of mechanical action are to be recommended in preference. * * * * * Friend Humphrey:-- I have thought for some time past that I would furnish a few thoughts for the _Daguerreian Journal_, under the head of _General Rumors_. A fear of injuring the Daguerreian business, by giving an additional publicity to my discovery, for the present has kept me from this, as well as from furnishing several other articles. A _very few_ persons (for the honor of humanity, I am glad the number is small) have made statements which reflect seriously upon the integrity and motives of myself and friends. By means of certain legal processes, of which I am not wholly ignorant, I could do _these gentry_ more simple justice than by dignifying them by a notice in our Journal, yet I bear them no ill will, and _for the present_ shall act on the principle that it is better to suffer wrong than to engage in a quarrel, especially with men who have so little regard for the feelings and reputation of their fellows, as to condemn, denounce, and accuse, without discrimination, and without the slightest knowledge of facts. The "head and front of my offending" is this--that I _have_, by dint of unwearied pains and perseverance, succeeded in imprinting the colors of nature, in all their inimitable glory, upon the metallic surface. The process, when brought out, it is believed, by the best of judges, will be an astonishment to, the world, and a delight to our nation; and I have felt, from the first, that I am but an instrument in the hands of the Almighty, and am therefore bound in duty, as well as by inclination, to dispose of the secret in a way to accomplish the greatest amount of good. In this spirit I have frequently published my unalterable resolve that my process _shall never be monopolized, or used for the purposes of extortion_. If I had no other reason for this course, the fact that there are great numbers of worthy persons engaged in our art, who, like myself, are poor, this would be sufficient. Various plans have been suggested to me, for the best possible method of disposing of my discovery. Numerous gentlemen of high standing, have honored me with personal intercourse and friendly advice. I have even suffered the claims of courtesy to interfere with my experiments, and, I believe I have the good will and confidence of those who have honored me with their visits; but I have never swerved from my original determination, and have given no person the slightest reason to think otherwise. In view of these _facts_, it is not strange that I should feel annoyed at the various rumors to which I refer, and some of the intimations which have been thrown out, I _feel_ are but poor pay for my having nearly, if not quite, ruined my health, by laboring from morn till midnight for the good of others. More especially have I been _grieved_ that _some of my best friends, and the best friends of the fraternity_, should be accused of having outwitted me, and drawn me into obligations to them which would compel me to pursue a grasping course. Now, it is true that certain gentlemen have, from the most honorable motives, made me very liberal offers of aid, and it is also true that my mind is about settled in regard to the parties with whom I shall act; but it is not true that I am under obligations to give notoriety to my _business affairs_, and it is certain that I shall not do so until I see fit. Neither is there the least foundation for the assertion that I am committed to any person. There confidence in me is not based on paper, but on a much surer foundation. The process which I have been so fortunate as to discover, is _my property_. No man on earth has any claim, upon it, and I have a perfect right to dispose of it as I please, in case I do not interfere with the rights of others. This, I think, is the philosophy of _Professor Morse_, so admirably and clearly expressed in the last number of the Journal. This distinguished man recently favored me with a visit, and, in the course of the interview, shed much light on this subject for which I feel truly thankful. My intention has been, and is, to _do right_, and I believe the majority approve of the course I have pursued thus far. The many marks of approbation I have received from eminent men, both in this profession and others, is truly encouraging to me in my poor health and arduous labors, and will never be forgotten. Those who seem to possess a different spirit, and who have apparently endeavored to hedge up my way by means of "rumors," "new discoveries," "threats," &c., have my forgiveness, and I trust that, in future, if they are not disposed to aid, they will do nothing to hinder me. The brotherhood have nobly aided me, by purchasing my book. My sales are exceeding my most sanguine expectations, and are placing me on a footing to make me _feel that I am free_. All may be assured that I shall not use my freedom "as a cloak," but to serve their interests, of which both myself and friends hope to give them _full proof_ hereafter. Now that I have been compelled to close my doors against visitors, I would state that I am doing my utmost to bring out my process in a short time, and I will hereafter give, in the _Daguerreian Journal_, such notices of my success as will meet the wishes of the public, as well as the interest of our fraternity, I am yours &c., L. L. Hill. Westkill, Greene Co., N. Y., _May 30, 1851._ [Hand] The foregoing letter was addressed to me privately, and as it contains some of Mr. Hill's views in relation to the various rumors afloat, I have thought it best to insert it for the public. S. D. H. * * * * * We take pleasure in saying to our friends that, through the kindness of John Johnson, Esq., of this city, we have received many of the valuable letters and papers written by Mr. S. A. Wolcott, a former partner of the first named gentleman. Mr. W. is well and favorably known as one of our early and most successful investigators in the Photogenic Art. Many of the most valuable improvements had their origin in his hands. We were surprised to find so great an amount of information as is here presented. Our Daguerreotypists of the present day may consider themselves fortunate, when looking back upon the difficulties experienced by those early engaged in putting a shadow on the silver plate. We find here many a mystery unravelled, and set forth in a light heretofore unexplained. As these letters, written by Mr. W. to his partner, Mr. J., (at the time they were written) were many of them confidential, and some few contain business matter of a foreign character, it will require some little time to prepare them for the press in the order in which they were written. We shall make no alteration in the manuscript, and exclude such matter only as relates to business of a foreign character. They present a team of investigation and research worthy the first in the scientific circle. We would here take occasion to speak of a curious specimen of our art, which we saw while recently spending an evening with Mr. Johnson. This specimen is a profile view of a gentleman, and if not the _first_ likeness from life, it is said to claim age with the oldest Daguerreotype ever produced, and is no less interesting for its antiquity than for its size, it being on a plate _less than one quarter of an inch square_. To produce an impression on such a plate it would require the superior skill of the most successful operator of the present day. The outline is distinctly marked, the features remarkably well delineated, being in fact, one of the most interesting curiosities we have ever witnessed. The plate is cemented by means of Canada Balsam to a piece of plate glass about three-fourths of an inch square, and thus it has been preserved in its present state. We saw many other specimens of Daguerreian antiquity, but as we intend to speak more fully of our evening visit at Mr. Johnson's, we will defer further notice for the present. We would here say to such as may have Mr. Walcott's letters relative to the art, that we would consider ourselves especially favored if we could be allowed the perusal of them. * * * * * =THE NATURAL COLORS IN PHOTOGRAPHY.= The subscriber begs to request those interested in the above discovery _not to visit him_ until further notice, which will be given in the Daguerreian Journal. It is _absolutely essential_ that he should have his time, and be left undisturbed. Stern necessity, arising from the fact that I can never complete my process if disturbed as hitherto, compels me to say both to friends and strangers, that my doors are locked, and will continue to be until I have completed my experiments. As this notice is given with a regard to the general good, it is presumed no offence will be taken. L. L. Hill. Westkill, Green Co., N. Y., May 25, 1851. Editors by inserting the above in their papers will confer a favor, and save many from spending their time and money to no purpose. * * * * * =OUR DAGUERREOTYPES.= Butler, of this city, is now producing fine likenesses in oil. This gentlemen calls these pictures "Daguerreotypes in Oil." We never have seen better likenesses transferred from a Daguerreotype, and in an economical point of view, they are the best oil paintings that can be had. * * * * * E. Long, of St. Louis, Mo. In our last, we spoke of H. H. Long as the gentleman who had produced likenesses of Jenny Lind. This was incorrect; we should have said E. Long. However, they both are a _long_ ways from taking poor Daguerreotypes. * * * * * L. M. Ives, of Boston, will please pardon us (or rather our printer) for the mistake in the Journal in his name and locality. Mr. I. being himself a sure operator, will certainly pardon a failure in others. We will endeavor to do better in future. * * * * * N. E. Sissons, of Albany. This gentleman has completed an extensive addition to his former establishment. W e find here one of the most substantial proofs that close application and honorable dealing are awarded by success. Mr. S. has now five rooms--one for reception, a gallery or operating room, and three stock rooms. It is highly gratifying to his friends to learn of his success, and we predict for him a large and profitable business. We have ordered one of C. C. Harrison's best full sized camera tubes, and one of W. & W. H. Lewis' camera boxes, which will be forwarded to Mr. S., he being entitled to it from the fact that he has obtained for us the largest list of subscribers. He is a "practical operator." * * * * * J. D. Wells, Northampton, Mass., has recently fitted up a large establishment in that place. Mr. W. is an old an experienced operator, and has five rooms in his establishment, a very fine sky and side light, and is prepared to execute such likenesses as will please the inhabitants of that beautiful village in the valley of the Connecticut. * * * * * =SUBMARINE TELEGRAPH BETWEEN ENGLAND AND FRANCE.= The project of constructing a submarine telegraph between England and France, across the Straits of Dover, first announced during the year 1349,[A] has been in part accomplished. The following description of the laying down of the wire, we copy from an English Journal:-- [Footnote A: See Annual of Scientific Discovery, 1850, page 128.] At one o'clock the steamer Goliath was ready to start across the Channel, with all the necessary apparatus on board, and a crew of about thirty men. Between the paddle-wheels, in the centre of the vessel, was a gigantic drum, or wheel, nearly fifteen feet long and seven feet in diameter, weighing seven tons, and fixed on a strong framework. Upon it was coiled up, in careful, close convulsions, about thirty miles of telegraphic wire, one-tenth of an inch in diameter, incased in a covering of gutta-percha, the thickness of the little finger. The point proposed to be reached, Cape Grinez, the nearest landmark to the English coast, and between Calais and Boulogne, is a distance of twenty-one miles, so that a surplus supply of nine miles of wire was held in reserve for the purpose of slackening. The connecting wires were placed in readiness at the Government pier in the harbor, and likewise at the Cape, where they run up the face of the acclivity, which is 194 feet above the sea-mark. Some interesting experiments were first made upon a small scale to show the practicability of the plan. A mile of wire was paid out off the deck, from the pier to Shakspeare's Cliff, and the sinking process was proved to be a practicable performance. A communication was also sent through twenty four miles of wire. On Wednesday morning the experiment of sinking submarinely was practically commenced. The Goliath put out to the pier, with her telegraphic tackle and apparatus on board, under a calm sea and sky and a favoring wind. The connection between the thirty miles of telegraphic wire was then made good to 300 yards of the same wire inclosed in a leaden tube on shore, to prevent it being bruised by the shingle on the beach, and to enable the experimenters, as they proceeded out to sea, to send communications on shore. The vessel steamed out at the rate of three or four miles an hour into the open sea, in a direct track for Cape Grinez. The wire weighed five tons and the cylinder two. The operation of paying out the thirty miles of wire commenced on a signal to the sailors to "Go-ahead with the wheel, and pay out the wire," which was continuously streamed out over a roller at the stern of the vessel, the men at every 16th of a mile being busily engaged in riveting on to the wire, square leaden clamps, or weights of iron, from 14 lbs. to 24 lbs. in weight, which had the effect of sinking the wire to the bottom, which, on the English coast commences at a depth of 30 feet, and goes on varying from that to 100 and 180 feet, which latter, or 30 fathoms, is the greatest depth. The whole of the casting out and sinking was accomplished with great precision and success, owing to the favorable state of the day. The only conjectured difficulty on the route was at a point in midchannel, called the Ridge, between which and another inequality called the Varne, both well known and dreaded by navigators, there is a deep submarine valley, surrounded by shifting sands, the one being seventeen miles in length, and the other twelve, and in their vortex, not unlike the voracious one of Godwin Sands, ships encounter danger and lose their anchors, and trolling nets of fishermen are frequently lost. Over this, however, the wire was successfully submerged, below the reach, it is believed, of either ship's anchors, sea-animals, or fishing nets. The remainder of the route, though rougher on approaching the coast of France, was accomplished cleverly, but slowly. A communication, dated Cape Grinez, Coast of France, half past eight, P. M., and received at Dover by submarine telegraph, was as follows:--"The Goliath has just arrived in safety, and the complete connection of the under-water wire with that left at Dover this morning is being run up the face of the cliff; complimentary interchanges are passing between France and England, under the strait and through it, for the first time." Notwithstanding this apparently successful result of the work, the line was cut asunder soon after the connection was completed on the rocks near Cape Grinez, the physical configuration of the French coast being very unfavorable. The precise point where the breakage took place was about two hundred yards out to sea, just where the twenty miles of electric line that had been laid down from Dover joins on to a leaden tube designed to protect it from the surge beating against the beach, and which also serves a similar purpose up the front of the cliff to the station upon the top. The leaden conductor, it would appear, was of too soft a texture to resist the oscillation of the sea, and thereby became detached from the coil of gutta-percha wire that was thought to have been safely encased in it. The occurrence was, of course, quickly detected by the sudden cessation of the series of communications, though it was at first a perplexing point to discover at what precise spot the wire was broken or at fault. This, however, was done by hauling up the line at intervals, a process which disclosed the gratifying fact, that, since its first sinking, it had remained in situ at the bottom of the sea, inconsequence of the leaden weights or clamps that were strung to it at every sixteenth of a mile. The experiment, as far as it has gone, proves the possibility of the gutta percha wire resisting the action of the salt water, of the fact of its being a perfect waterproof insulator, and that the weights on the wire are sufficient to prevent it being drifted away by the currents, and for sinking it in the sands. The work at present has been suspended, but will be resumed again during the spring of 1851; a somewhat different plan, however, has been proposed to be followed from that at first adopted. Instead of one slender wire, it is intended to lay down cables inclosing four lines. These cables will be composed of gutta-percha, four or five inches in thickness, the whole encased in wire rope, chemically prepared, to protect it from rot, and kyanized. There will be two of these cables, each twenty miles long, and three miles apart, the whole weight representing 400 tons; and it is expected, when chained down in the bottom of the sea, they will be of sufficient consistency and strength to resist the anchor of a 120-gun ship. The expense of the cables is estimated at £40,000. It is thought that the whole work may be accomplished by May, 1851.--_Annual of Scientific Discovery._ * * * * * =ACTION OF SOLUTIONS OF CHLORIDES AND AIR ON MERCURY.= We have given in previous Numbers the results of M. Mialhe's experiments on the action of chlorides on some mercurial compounds, and he states that he had nearly concluded his experiments when it occurred to him to try whether mercury itself would not be acted upon by this class of substances. Experiment, he states, confirmed his suspicions, for he found that the solutions of the alkaline chlorides put into contact with mercury and atmospheric air always produced bichloride of mercury, the quantity of which was greater in proportion to the concentration of the solution of the chloride, and the more perfect state of division of the metal, but no effect is produced unless oxygen, that of the air being sufficient, is present. _1st Experiment._--Mercury treated with the solution of alkaline chlorides (described in our last Number as the assay liquor ), gave by stove heat 0·4 part of sublimate. _2nd Experiment._--The above repeated with the mercury finely divided by mucilage, yielded 0·7 part of sublimate. The researches already detailed sufficiently prove, in the opinion of M. Mialhe, that the decomposing power of the alkaline chlorides is great, but they do not teach us anything as to their relative energy. The following experiments will supply this deficiency. _Hydrochlorate of Ammonia._--One hundred and twenty parts of hydrochlorate of ammonia and 30 parts of calomel were placed in an open bottle containg 1000 parts of distilled water, the temperature of which was gradually raised to 122° Fahr., and kept for half an hour; the sublimate produced amounted to 0·9 of a part. The experiment repeated with the following salts gave the annexed quantities of sublimate:-- Chloride of Sodium, 0·4 of a part. Chloride of Barium, 0·4 " Chloride of Potassium, 0·3 " It results from these experiments that the hydrochlorate of ammonia is the most powerful of these four salts. In concluding his experiments, M. Mialhe remarks that the reactions which he has pointed out take place at common temperatures, but better at the temperature of the human body. All of them are produced in a short time, and some occur instantaneously, the greater part requiring only a few hours' contact for action. As then the different fluids contained in the human body contain oxygen, chloride of sodium, and hydrochlorate of ammonia, accompanied or not with hydrochloric and other acids which may facilitate their action, it follows that all the chemical phenomena produced under the circumstances described, occur in the human body when any mercurial preparation whatever is introduced into it; these always produce a certain quantity of corrosive sublimate in which their medicinal properties reside; and this fact explains, in the opinion of M. Mialhe, the hitherto unexplained physiological action and therapeutic properties of metallic mercury when introduced into the animal economy.--_Ann. de Chim. et de Phys._, Juin 1842. * * * * * =THE HEAT OF COMBINATIONS.= Every molecular change in the condition of matter is almost invariably connected with the evolution or absorption of heat, and the quantity of heat thus set free or absorbed bears always a definite relation to the amount of the mechanical or chemical action. To ascertain this relation has been the object of my investigations, and the following are a few of my principal results. 1. The solution of a salt in water is always accompanied by an absorption of heat. 2. If equal weights of the same salt be dissolved in succession in the same liquid, the heat absorbed will be less on each new addition of salt. 3. The heat absorbed by the solution of a salt in water holding other salts dissolved is generally less than that absorbed by its solution in water. 4. The heat absorbed by the solution of a salt in the dilute mineral acids is generally greater than that absorbed by its solution in water. In reference to the combination of acids and bases, the heat developed during the union is determined by the base, and not by the acid. An equivalent of the same base combined with different acids produces nearly the same quantity of heat. When a neutral salt is converted into an acid salt by combining with one or more equivalents of acids, no disengagement of heat occurs. When a double salt is formed by the union of two neutral salts, the same is the case, but when a neutral salt is converted into a basic salt, there is a disengagement of heat. When solutions of two neutral salts are mixed, and a precipitate formed from their mutual decomposition, there is always a disengagement of heat, which, though small, is perfectly definite in amount. The diamond disengages 7,824 units of heat during its combustion in oxygen gas, in the form of graphite, 7,778 units, and in that of wood charcoal, 8,080.--Dr. Andrews before the British Association at Birmingham. * * * * * [The following papers have been furnished us by Mr. Pirsson, one of the former editors of the Eureka, they having been previously published in that Journal; for the cuts, which will appear in our next number, we are indebted to Mr. Starr, one of the present editors of the _Farmer and Mechanic_, and formerly publisher of the _Eureka_.] * * * * * =DAGUERREOTYPE.= BY JOHN JOHNSON. As a general thing, however perfect any invention may be deemed by the inventor or discoverer, it falls to the lot of most, to be the subject of improvement and advancement, and especially is this the case with those new projects in science which open an untrodden field to the view of the artizan. Such has been in an eminent degree, the case with the discovery first announced to the world by Mons. Jean Jacques Claude Daguerre, of Paris, in the year 1839, and which excited unbounded astonishment, curiosity and surprise. It may be questioned had any other than Daguerre himself discovered a like beautiful combination, whether the world would have been favored with details exhibiting so much care, patience and perseverance as the Daguerreotype on its introduction. Shortly after these details reached the United States, by Professor S. F. B. Morse, of New York, who was, at the time of the discovery, residing in Paris. By this announcement, the whole scientific corps was set in operation, many repeating the experiments, following carefully the directions pointed out by Daguerre, as being necessary to success. Among the number in the United States, was Alexander S. Wolcott (since deceased) and myself, both of this city. On the morning of the 6th day of October, 1839, I took to A. Wolcott's residence, a full description of Daguerre's discovery, he being at the time engaged in the department of Mechanical Dentistry, on some work requiring his immediate attention, the work being promised at 2 P. M., that day; having, therefore, no opportunity to read the description for himself, (a thing he was accustomed to do at all times, when investigating any subject,) I read to him the paper, and proposed to him that if he would plan a camera, (a matter he was fully acquainted with, both theoretically and practically) I would obtain the materials as specified by Daguerre. This being agreed to, I departed for the purpose, and on my return to his shop, he handed me the sketch of a camera box, without at all explaining in what manner the lens was to be mounted. This I also undertook to procure. After 2 P. M., he had more leisure, when he proceeded to complete the camera, introducing for that purpose a reflector in the back of the box, and also to affix a plate holder on the inside, with a slide to obtain the focus of the plate, prepared after the manner of Daguerre. While Mr. Wolcott was engaged with the camera, I busied myself in polishing the silver plate, or rather silver plated copper, but ere reaching the end preparatory to iodizing, I found I had nearly or quite removed the silver surface from off the plate, and that being the best piece of silver plated copper to be found, the first remedy at hand that suggested itself, was a burnisher, and a few strips were quickly burnished and polished. Meantime, the camera being finished, Mr. Wolcott, after reading for himself Daguerre's method of iodizing, prepared two plates, and placing them in the camera, guessed at the required time they should remain exposed to the action of the light; after mercurializing each in turn, and removing the iodized surface with a solution of common salt, two successful impressions were obtained, each unlike the other! Considerable surprise was excited by this result, for each plate was managed precisely like the other. On referring to Daguerre, no explanation was found for this strange result; time, however, revealed to us that one picture was positive, and the other negative. On this subject I shall have much to say during the progress of the work. Investigating the cause of this difference occupied the remainder of that day, However, another attempt was agreed upon, and the instruments, plates, &c., prepared and taken up into an attic room, in a position most favorable for light. Having duly arranged the camera, I sat for five minutes, and the result was a profile miniature, (a miniature in reality,) on a plate not quite three-eighths of an inch square. Thus, with much deliberation and study, passed the first day in Daguerreotype--little dreaming or knowing into what a labyrinth such a beginning was hastening us. (_To be continued._) * * * * * =GALVANIZING DAGUERREOTYPE PLATES.= The Battery. The best way is to purchase a good Daniel's Battery. Price $2 00. To be had at any of the dealers. For the benefit of those who cannot procure one, I would give the following directions for making one: Procure a copper cup, (sheet copper) 6 inches high, and 4 inches in diameter; also a cup of porous earthenware, (a small unglazed flower pot answers,) or a leather cup made water tight by sewing, or even a cylinder of porous wood, (say maple or ash,) 3 inches diameter, and about 6 inches high. This is to stand in the centre of the copper cup. Now, procure a solid cylinder of zinc, 6 inches high and 1 inch diameter. This is to stand in the centre of the porous cup. Fastened to the upper end of the zinc cylinder there should be a copper wire, pretty thick. It should be held by a screw, or soldered on, and previous to the fastening, both the wire and zinc should be made clean and bright, that there may be a perfect connection. A similar wire is to be fastened, in the same way, to the upper rim of the copper cup. Let these wires be about 6 inches long. To the end of the one coming from the copper fasten a plate of pure silver, about as large as a quarter plate, unless you wish to galvanize whole plates, in which case the silver plate must be larger, say, the size of a half plate. For small plates a silver dollar, enlarged to twice its size by hammering, will answer, but is not so good. To hammer it, it must be first heated, red hot, and allowed to cool slowly. This plate is to be immersed in the silver solution, described below, near the side of the solution jar. The other wire must be bent at the end like a hook, to receive the catch. This catch may be a piece of copper wire about 4 inches long, hooked at one end, and having several turns at the other end, to strengthen it. Between these turns the Daguerreotype plate, well polished, is inserted, as in a sort of jaw. The wire holding the catch should be so bent that the Daguerreotype plate will stand from one to three inches from, and face the annode, or silver plate. Let the silver solution be well stirred, just before immersing a plate; then, blowing away the froth and scum, immediately dip the plate, and hang it on the wire. Let it remain until it takes on a deep blue color, take it out, grasp it with the plyers, rinse it freely with clean water, and dry it carefully with a spirit lamp. Buff again to a polish, galvanize to a light blue, rinse, dry, and buff again, and it is ready for the coating box. _Silver Solution._ Dissolve in 1 quart of soft water, half a pound of _Cyanide of Potash_. In this dissolve the _Chloride of Silver_ procurable from a silver dollar. Filter, through paper, or clean sponge, and it is ready for use, excepting that it will probably have to be reduced with water. It should be reduced till it works mellow, and free from streaks. The occasional addition of a lump of cyanide will prevent a flowery deposite of oxyde of silver. Occasionally, also, add a little chloride of silver, and more cyanide. The cyanide should always be in excess. The reason why this should be occasionally added, is that the solution becomes too strong, with the silver, from the annode. The connections must be kept bright, with a file or otherwise. The manner of charging the above battery is as follows: Nearly fill the porous cup with water, and stir in about a tea-spoonful of sulphuric acid. Two or three drops of acid added once a week is enough. The copper cup should be filled with a saturated solution of sulphate of copper, (blue vitriol,) and the solution kept saturated by suspending in it a little sack of the blue vitriol. [Hand] The zinc cylinder, previous to use, should be amalgamated, as follows: Place it in a plate, and brighten it by rubbing it with a swab, wet with dilute sulphuric acid. Then with the same swab, rub on mercury, until the whole surface is bright. Chloride of Silver. Dissolve a silver dollar in about a gill of a mixture of nitric acid and water, equal parts, by the aid of a gentle heat. Let it cool. Throw it into an earthen or glass vessel, containing about 1 quart of strong salt water. Let the precipitate settle. Pour away the liquid, add a large quantity of water, let the chloride of silver settle, pour away the water, and repeat this at least fifty times. The residue is pure chloride of silver. Any glass or earthen cup, of suitable shape and dimensions, will answer for a solution dish. It should be remembered that a strong battery, and a strong solution require the plate to be kept at a greater distance from the annode. This distance will range from one to three inches.--_Hill's Treatise._ * * * * * =ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.= Notice.--Those persons subscribing for this Journal will please bear in mind to write in a plain hand the name, town, county, and state. By observing the above you will save us much trouble, and, at the same time, receive the Journal with more promptness. G. K. W., Mass.--We have been unable to prepare the chemicals you ordered. Our arrangements are somewhat extensive in the department referred to. M. S. W., Ala.--Mr. W. says, "Will you inform me, through your Journal or otherwise, Is iodine entirely lost when it combines with a few drops of a solution of potassa!" It is not. The following experiment will better illustrate:--Put a few grains of iodine into a clean and dry Florence flask, warm it gradually over a spirit lamp, and the iodine rises in a vapor of beautiful violet color. When cool, pour in "a few drops of a solution of potassa," the iodine disappears at once, and a solution of iodide of potassium is formed; this may be heated to redness without evolving any violet fumes, and yet it is certain that iodine is there, but not in a free but a combined state, and heat cannot expel it from combination with the potassium. Let the flask cool a little, and add a few drops of sulphuric acid; the violet fumes of iodine instantly appear; the sulphuric acid has induced the formation of sulphate of potassa, and expelled the iodine unchanged. F. B. B., Ky.--Your money is received, and the first Vol. forwarded per order. Thank you for your hearty congratulations. J. G. P. R. I.--Yours of the 26th in hand. We advise you for the present to say nothing of your discovery: it probably has more valuable importance than you are at present aware of. * * * * * =ADVERTISEMENTS= * * * * * =NOTICE TO ADVERTISERS.= As our Advertising List is already large, and the demand rapidly increasing, we are under the necessity of requesting those who wish to be made known through our Advertising Columns, to make their Advertisements as short as possible. The Daguerreian Journal is devoted to the interest of all. * * * * * =DAGUERREIAN LIBRARY.= All of the works published on the Daguerreian Art, for sale at the Office of the Daguerreian Journal. Address (_post-paid_) S. D. Humphrey, No. 311 Broadway, New York. * * * * * =DAGUERREOTYPE WORK,= PHOTOGRAPHIC RESEARCHES AND Manipulations, including the Author's former Treatises on Daguerreotypes, By L. L. HILL. The above work is now ready, price $3 per copy. Orders addressed to S. D. Humphrey, No. 311 Broadway, N. Y. * * * * * =WANTED.= A SITUATION by an experienced Operator. One who can come well recommended, and has been engaged in the Daguerreotype business for the last eight years. Has no objection to any city in the United States. For further information inquire at the Office of the Daguerreian Journal. * * * * * =WANTED.= TO =DAGUERREOTYPISTS OF PHILADELPHIA.= WANTED--A situation, by an old and experienced Operator, to engage in some establishment in the above named city. The Advertiser can produce the best of Testimonials, and satisfactory specimens of Daguerreotypes. For further information, inquire at the office of the Daguerreian Journal. None need apply unless prepared to give a permanent situation to a good operator. * * * * * =SCOVILL MANUFACTURING CO.,= =DEALERS IN DAGUERREOTYPE MATERIALS,= =WHOLESALE AND RETAIL,= No. 57 Maiden Lane, New York, Agents for Voightlander & Sons, and C. C. Harrison's celebrated Cameras; Harrison's, Brinckerhoff's, and Lewis' Buffing-Wheels. The Scovill Manufacturing Co. are now prepared to offer to the public, cases of their own manufacture, which, for style, workmanship and superior finish, are not excelled by any in the market, and it is their intention to put them at prices which cannot fail to satisfy both the dealer and operator. They think it quite unnecessary to enumerate all the articles which they may have on hand for sale, but simply to state that they are prepared to furnish every description of Daguerreotype Goods of the best quality at low prices, and to fill all orders with promptness and dispatch. May 15_th_, 1851. * * * * * =MYRON SHEW,= =DEALER IN DAGUERREOTYPE APPARATUS AND MATERIALS,= =WHOLESALE AND RETAIL,= _No. 118 Chestnut street, Philadelphia, Pa._ German and American Cameras of all sizes and of the best manufacture, Coating Boxes, Camera Stands, Mercury Baths, Buffing Vices, Head Rests, Plates, Cases, Chemicals, Frames, Gold and Gilt Lockets, Fancy Book Cases, Papier-Mache Cases, Preservers, Mats, Glass, and all articles used in the Art constantly on hand in great variety at the lowest prices. Mr. S. having had a number of years practical experience in the Daguerreian Art, feels confident that he is prepared to give satisfaction to his customers in the selection of articles used in the business. This being the only establishment in Philadelphia devoted exclusively to Daguerreotype materials. Artists will find it to their interest to call at once where they are sure of finding every article used in the Art. Orders from the country promptly and faithfully attended to. * * * * * =WANTED.=--A Partner wanted in the Daguerreotype business. Any person who is a first-rate practical operator, and can command from five hundred to a thousand dollars, can now have one of the best opportunities of investing his capital in one of the best locations in a western city. The establishment is now doing a very profitable business, and is capable of increasing to such an extent as to warrant the success necessary to induce a partner. No one need apply unless he has the Cash Capital. For further information inquire at the Office of the Daguerreian Journal. * * * * * =CHEMICAL, LABORATORY.= DR. ANTISELL has Removed his Chemical Laboratory to 63 Franklin St., where he is prepared to undertake chemical analysis and examinations into the purity of materials. Dr. A. will also take charge of any series of experiments to elucidate particular subjects. Assays, analyses of ores, minerals, soils, and mineral water, made with correctness and despatch. May 1, 1851. * * * * * =$10 REWARD.= A LARGE SIZED (plate, 11 by 13 inches) Daguerreotype has been recently stolen from my door, supposed to have been taken by some person about visiting Europe. Said Daguerreotype was a large sized head, and is a likeness of myself. Any person returning said picture, and the large gilt frame that contained it, shall receive the above reward. J. Gurney, No. 189 Broadway, N. Y. * * * * * =REMOVAL.= =MYRON SHEW,= =DEALER IN= =DAGUERREOTYPE MATERIALS,= =No. 118 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia.= MR. SHEW would respectfully inform his friends and customers that he has removed his place of business from his old stand. No. 116, to 118 Chestnut street, two doors from his former place, where he has made a permanent location, and, having greater facilities, will be better able to meet the increasing demands of his business. No pains will be spared in the selection of articles used by Daguerreian Artists, and every effort used to give satisfaction to his customers. A good supply of all articles used in the business constantly on hand, comprising German and American Cameras, of all sizes, Camera Stands, Coating Boxes, Mercury Baths, Head Rests, Buffing Vices, Gilding Stands, Lamps, Plates, Cases, Frames, Gold and Gilt Lockets, a variety of Fancy Cases, &c., &c. Mr. S. would take this opportunity of returning his sincere thanks for former patronage, and solicits a continuance of the same. All orders either from the city or country, promptly and faithfully attended to. MYRON SHEW. _Philadelphia, June 1st, 1851._ * * * * * =DAGUERREOTYPE.= =JOHN SAWYER,= Successor to WILLIAM SHEW, dealer in Daguerreotype Apparatus and Materials, wholesale and retail. Also, manufacturer of Cases. No. 123 Washington Street, Boston, Mass. * * * * * =LOUIS BECKER= Well known CHEMICALS, for sale at Becker & Piards, No. 201 Broadway, N. Y. * * * * * =CLEVELAND DAGUERREOTYPE STOCK= =DEPOT,= =JOHNSON & FELLOWS,= =SUPERIOR ST., CLEVELAND, O.,= Keep a large and well selected assortment of Daguerreotype Goods on hand, and for sale at the lowest New York prices. We respectfully call the attention of operators to our assortment of goods, which we warrant genuine. Every exertion will be made to keep the best, latest and cheapest goods on hand. Our assortment consists of every variety of Cameras, Plates, Cases, Chemicals, Polishing Materials, Apparatus, Fixtures, Frames, Sockets, &c., &c. Instructions in the Art are carefully given. Chas. E. Johnson, Parker Fellows. * * * * * =NEW YORK= =DAGUERREOTYPE= =STOCK ESTABLISHMENT.= The undersigned would call the attention of Daguerreotypists and the trade to the recent improvements in their manufacture of plates, which, by a new method of finishing, enables them to present an article possessing a finer and softer surface, and requiring much less polishing than formerly. The edges of all are neatly bent. Owing to greater facilities in manufacturing, the prices have been reduced, so as to bring them at about the same cost as the best imported brands. They have constantly on hand a large assortment of Plates, Cases, Frames, Mattings, Preservers, Lockets, Chemicals, and Apparatus of every style and variety which they offer at the lowest prices. Agents for Voightlander's, Harrison's and other Cameras; Harrison's new Buffing Wheel, &c., &c. Scovill Manufacturing Co., No. 57 Maiden Lane, New York. * * * * * =BENJAMIN FRENCH,= _No. 109 Washington Street, Boston._ DAGUERREOTYPE Apparatus, Plates, Cases, Frames, Gold Lockets, Polishing materials, Chemicals, and every description of Goods used in the Daguerreotype business, constancy on hand and for sale, at wholesale and retail, at the lowest cash prices. 3tf * * * * * =$5 REWARD.= STOLEN from the door of Clark Brothers, 551 Broadway, one full size Daguerreotype View, in papier mache frame, oval fire gilt mat. Said View of a GOTHIC COTTAGE, on the steps of which can be seen a lady, two or three boys and a dog, Any person returning the above described Picture, or giving information where it may be found, shall receive the above reward Oct 16. * * * * * =TWO NEW INVENTIONS= =IN THE DAGUERREOTYPE ART.= "PECK'S PATENT PLATE HOLDER," and the "_Bent Edge Daguerreotype Plate_" used in connection with it. An instrument is sold for seventy-five cents, with which every operator can bend his own plates. The holder is a desideratum, and only requires to be used to be appreciated. It is so constructed that it will hold the plate through all the stages of cleaning, buffing, polishing, coating, taking the picture in the camera, and mercurializing without any change. During the whole process, the plate need not be touched with the fingers, and does away with the use of wax, &c., &c. The prices for the holders are mediums, $1 00--quarters, $1 50--Halves, $2 00--whole size, $2 50. The "_Magic Back Ground_." The discovery of this is due Mr. C. J. Anthony, of Pittsburgh, Pa. By this process the most beautiful effects can be produced, and the pictures are set forth in bold relief on back grounds of various shapes and tints. Pictures taken with the "_Magic Back Ground_," will be emphatically the "_Pictures for the Million_." The Patent is applied for, and the right ratified upon the receipt of the Patent, for the sum of Twenty-Five Dollars. L. CHAPMAN, 102 William St., N. Y. Manufacturer of Cases, Mats, Preservers, Plates, Importer of the genuine Star Brand, No. 40 French Plates, and dealer in Daguerreotype stock generally. * * * * * =CLARK BROTHERS, & B. L. HIGGINS.= Daguerreian Gallery, over the "Regulator," Franklin Buildings, Syracuse, N. Y., No. 128 Genesee St., Utica, Tremont Row Boston, and 551 Broadway, New York. Likenesses by the improved Daguerreotype of various sizes, and of the most delicate executions may be obtained at the above rooms during the day, from 8 A M., to 5 P. M. Chemicals, Plate, Cases, Cameras, Apparatus, and other materials, connected with the art, constantly on hand, and for sale at New York prices. All articles are selected with great care and warranted to give the best satisfaction. * * * * * =DAGUERREIAN ESTABLISHMENT.= JOHN ROACH, Optician, 79 Nassau Street, New York. Has always on hand VOIGHTLANDER INSTRUMENTS, quarter, half, and whole size. American Instruments, Roach's make, warranted to be superior to any yet made in the United States. They work with sharpness, and quickness, and persons purchasing can test them with the high priced German Instruments. Coating Boxes, Flint Glass Jars, cemented in, and ground air tight. Mercury Baths, with Thermometer Scale in front. Head Rests, Stands, Cases, Chemicals, &c. Plates, French 40th of the Star, and other first quality Brands. Bromine Roach's Triple Compound, now called Quick-stuff, works with certainty and quickness, in all weather, and pictures taken with it have a rich white tone. GALVANIC BATTERIES, &c. * * * * * =CINCINNATI= =DAGUERREOTYPE STOCK ESTABLISHMENT.= The undersigned would call the attention of those washing Daguerreotype goods, to his large and general assortment of all articles appertaining to the Daguerreian arts. The following named articles comprise only a few, compared with the great variety of his stock. _Cameras_--"_Voightlander and Sohn's_" German Cameras. C. C. Harrison's Quarter, Halves, Wholes, Mammoth, View, and Quick Working Cameras! Also a general assortment from other manufacturers. Complete sets of Apparatus--such as Coating Boxes, Mercury Baths, Plate Holders, Buffs, Buff Wheel, Peck's and Scovill's Patent Blocks, Lewis' new Iron Rests, Iron and Chair Head Rests, Gilding Stands. Cases--Papier-Mache inlaid with Mother of Pearl, Velvet in and out with Clasps and Locks, Morocco lined with Velvet, Silk and Satin, Plain and Gilt, also a great variety of fancy patterns. Plates of all sizes--Scovill's, French, 40th of the Star, and other first quality Brands. Chemicals--American, German and French Bromine, Dry and Chloride of Iodine, Hydroflouric Acid, Cyanide of Potassium, Pure Distilled Mercury, a superior article of Chloride of Gold for Gilding, Hyposulphite of Gold, Chloride of Calcium, Colors, Rotten Stone, Rouge, an excellent article. Lamps, Nippers, Glass Funnels, Glass Graduates, Prepared Buckskins, Brushes, &c., &c. All of the above articles are of the first quality, and will be furnished at reasonable rates. Orders punctually attended to and satisfaction given. PETER SMITH, No. 36 Fifth street, Cincinnati, Ohio. * * * * * =DAGUERREOTYPE= =STOCK ESTABLISHMENT.= THE SUBSCRIBER, would respectfully inform the Daguerreian Artists, that he has constantly on hand a large assortment of Daguerreotype apparatus, plates, cases, and chemicals, comprising in part the following: Voightlander & Sons, Harrison's, Lewis and Perry's Cameras and other apparatus of the most approved styles. Plates--Scovill's, Chapman's and the different brands of French plates. Cases--Silk and velvet lined, Papier Mache and a great variety of fancy cases. Chemicals--American, German and French Bromine, chloride of iodine, do gold, calcium, mercury, rouge, rotten stone, black polish, colours, brushes, rosewood and Papier mache, frames, mats, glass preservers, prepared buck skin, &c., &c. Every article used in the business, which I will furnish to operators at retail or wholesale, as low as the same quality of articles can be bought in New York or elsewhere. Our motto is small profits and quick sales. N. E. SISSON. No. 496 Broadway, Albany N. Y. 1tf * * * * * =LEVI CHAPMAN,= No. 102 William street, New-York, Manufacturer of, and Dealer in Daguerreotype Stock. =Daguerreotype Cases.= Medium size, from $15 to $198 per gross, Quarter " " 24 to 288 " Half " " 60 to 432 " MATS, PRESERVERS and CHEMICALS of all kinds. French and American PLATES. L. C. imports the genuine No. 40 Star Brand French Plate, which he keeps constantly on hand, together with an assortment of other kinds. PAPIER MACHE CASES, inlaid with Mother of Pearl, exceeding in beauty any thing of the kind heretofore made, from 90 to $1152 per gross. L. C. is also proprietor of Peck's patent moveable Plate-holder. GEORGE DABBS, } Travelling Agents. JAMES CREMER, } * * * * * =PREMIUM DAGUERREOTYPE DEPOT AND MANUFACTORY,= W. & W. H. LEWIS, 142 Chatham Street, New York, keep constantly on hand, superior CAMERAS of all sizes; also, _quick working_ Cameras, fully equal to any imported. All kinds of Apparatus, including our Patent PLATE VICES and GILDING STANDS; Galvanic Batteries for Electrotyping, for durability superior to all others. Buffing Lathes, on the most approved plan, Plates, Cases, Chemicals, Polishing Materials of every description. All kinds of Walnut, Rosewood and Gilt Frames for Daguerreotypes, outside Show Frames, Diploma, Certificate and Picture Frames made to order. Pressing Machines, for Straw and Leghorn Plats, of improved construction. 1tf * * * * * =DAGUERREOTYPE FURBISHING ROOMS.= =WM. A. WISONG,= No. 2 N. Liberty Street, Baltimore, Md. HAS CONSTANTLY ON HAND, a full and general assortment of Stock, for Daguerreotype use. Embracing every variety of Cameras, Plates, Cases, Fixtures, Trays, Chemicals, and Materials used by Daguerreian Artists, all of which are offered at the lowest market rates. Orders from Artists are respectfully solicited and forwarded with dispatch. 2 * * * * * =Circular to Daguerreotypists.= GEORGE DABBS & JAMES CREMER, Travelling Agents for L. Chapman, 102 William street, New York, manufacturer of Daguerreotype cases, mats, preservers, and plates, and importer of the genuine Star brand, No. 40, French plate, and last, though of first importance, proprietor of "Peck's patent plate holder,"--the great desideratum which only requires to be used to be appreciated. Prices, $1,00 for medium; $1,50 for quarters; $2,00 for halt's and $2,50 for whole size holders--a vice to hold the blocks $1,50 and an instrument for bending the plates 75 cents. They would inform Daguerreotypists and dealers that they will wait upon as many during the winter, as their time will permit, for the purpose of exhibiting the patent Plate Holder, for a description of which see advertisement headed "Two New Inventions". 1tf New York, November 1, 1850. * * * * * =INSLEY'S DAGUERREOTYPE GALLERY= REMOVED TO No. 311 BROADWAY, N. Y. (_Between Stewart's and the City Hospital._) THIS, our new Sky-light Gallery, is located on the second floor at the above number, and is universally acknowledged to be the most convenient and effective Gallery in the City. Every real improvement is taken advantage of, and, aided by scientific and gentlemanly assistants, we trust our pictures cannot be excelled. The Clergy--the Statesman--the Artist--the Man of science--and all lovers of really good Daguerreotypes, throughout the United States, are invited lo call and examine our collection. P. S.--This Gallery was for several years located on the corner of Cedar street, but is now removed to No. 311 Broadway. * * * * * =CAMERAS.= C. C. HARRISON, Manufacturer of Cameras, and Camera Lenses, of all sizes and of the latest improvements. Office 293 Broadway, New York, where in his Gallery may be seen specimens of Daguerreotypes taken with instruments of his own manufacture, which for accuracy of performance are unsurpassed by any in the world. N. B. A new and improved Camera for taking views, is manufactured by him, at a price unprecedentedly low. C. C. HARRISON, No. 293 Broadway, N. Y. 2tf * * * * * =DAGUERREOTYPE PLATES.= 2000 LOUIS L. BISHOP'S superior PLATES, offered for sale at a great bargain, by VICTOR BISHOP, 23 Maiden Lane. N. B. These Plates are silvered by the electro-magnetic process, and warranted superior to the best French plates. 1tf * * * * * =ENGRAVING= THE SUBSCRIBER still continues to carry on the business of ENGRAVING ON WOOD, in all its branches. His facilities are such that he is enabled to execute all orders promptly, and in every style of the Art, upon the most reasonable terms; while the experience of many years enables him to feel confidence in his efforts to give satisfaction to all who may favor him with their patronage. _Particular attention_ paid to the Drawing and Engraving of Subjects from Daguerreotypes. N. ORR, No. 151 Fulton-st. N. Y. 2tf * * * * * =BOOK AND JOB PRINTING.= WILLIAM S. DORR, 101 Nassau Street, over Ackerman & Miller's Sign and Banner Painting Establishment, is prepared to print, in the best style, and at the usual Low Prices, Books, Periodicals, Newspapers, Pamphlets, Bill Heads, Circulars, Commercial and Law Blanks, Bills of Lading, Bank Checks, Notices, Labels, &c. Cards printed on the celebrated Yankee Press. Few offices in the city have greater facilities for doing work with neatness and despatch, as most of the materials are new, and long editions are done by steam power presses. [Hand] Daguerreian Journal Print. * * * * * =DAGUERREIAN ARTISTS' REGISTER.= Appleby, R. B., 14 Arcade, Rochester, N. Y. Anthony, J. B., Poplar Grove, S. C. Adams, George, Worcester, Mass. Brady, Matthew B., No. 205 Broadway, N. Y. Burges, Nathan G., No. 187 Broadway, New York. Baker, F. S., Baltimore, Md. Broadbent, Samuel, 138 Chestnut st. Philadelphia. Barnes, C., Mobile, Ala. Bowmau, Isrial, Berling, Canada. Benson, W., Boonville, Mo. Bailey, Thomas, Ives, Columbia, Maury Co., Tenn. Bartlet, No. 102½ Main street, Boston, Mass. Bogardus, A., No. 217 Greenwich street, N. Y. Brown, F. A., Museum Building, Manchester, N. H. Brown, H. S., Milwaukie, Wis. Buxton, John, St. Catharine street, Montreal, Canada. Bradlee, J. E., Boston, Mass. Buell, E. M., Pittsfield, Mass. Bowman, J. A., Berlin, Waterloo County, Canada West. Bisbee, A., Dayton, Ohio. Bowen, N. O., Norwich, Conn. Beckers & Piard, 201 Broadway. N. Y. Brown, James, 181 Broadway, N. Y. Campbell, B. F., Corner Hanover and Union streets, Boston, Mass. Collins, David, Chesnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. Cooley, O. H., Springfield, Mass. Clark Brothers, No. 551 Broadway, N. Y., 128 Genesee Street, Utica, Franklin Building, Syracuse, New York, and Tremont Row, Boston, Mass. Cook, George S., Charleston, S. C. Coombs, F., San Francisco, Cal. Cary, P. M., Savannah, Ga. Chuchill, R. E., 55, State Street, Albany, N. Y. Chase, L. G., Boston, Mass. Dodge, E. S., Augusta, Ga. Davie, D. D. T., Utica, N. Y. Dobyns, T. J., New Orleans, La., and Louisville, Ky. Done, T. C., No. 2, Place d'Armes, Montreal, Canada. Durang. W. H., No. 303 Broadway, N. Y. Ellicott, E., Main Street, Chester C. H., S. C. Evans, O. B., Main Street, Buffalo, New York. Evens, Chas., No. 380 Market street, Philadelphia, Pa. Ennis, T. J., 106 Chestnut street, Philadelphia, Pa. Finley, M., Canandaigua, Ontario Co., N. Y. Finley, A. C., Jerseyville, Ill. Fitzgibbon, J. H., St. Louis, Mo. Faris, Thomas, Corner Fourth and Walnut Street Cincinnati, Ohio. Gurney, Jeremiah, No. 189 Broadway. N. Y. Gavit, Daniel E., 247 Broadway, N. Y. Gay, C. H., New London, Ct. Geer & Benedict, Syracuse, N. Y. Gatewood, E. H., Boonville, Mo. Holcomb, J. G., Augusta, Me. Howell, W. B., Lexington, Mo. Hill, R. H., Kingston, Ulster Co., N. Y. Haas, Philip, No, 289 Broadway, N. Y. Hall, W. H., Rouse's Point, Clinton Co., N. Y. Harrison. C. C., 293 Broadway, N. Y. Hill, L. L., Westkill, Green Co., N. Y. Hale, J. W., Newark, N. J. Hough & Anthony, Pittsburg, Alleghany Co., Pa. Hale, L. H., 109 Washington street, Boston, Mass. Hawkins, E. C., Corner of Fifth and Walnut Street, Cincinnati, Ohio. Insley, Henry E, 311 Broadway, N. Y. Ives, L. M., No. 142 Washington street, Boston, Mass. Johnson, Charles E., Cleveland, Ohio. Jacobs, E., 73 Camp St, New Orleans, La. Johnston, D. B., Utica, N. Y. Johnson, George H., Sacramento, Cal. Kelsey, C. C., Chicago, Ill. Knight, W. M. Racine, Wis. Lawrence, Martin M., No. 203 Broadway, N. Y. Lewis, W. and W. H., No. 142 Chatham Street, New York. Litch & Graniss, Waterbury, Ct. Long, H. H., St. Louis, Mo. Long, E., St. Louis, Mo. L'homdieu, Charles, Charleston, S. C. Martin, J. E., Detroit, Mich. Marks, H. R., Baltimore street, Baltimore, Md. Mayall, J. E., No. 433 West Strand, London, England. Merrick, Dr. G. W., Adrian, Mich. Moissenet, F., New Orleans, La. Moulthroup, M., New Haven, Ct. Manchester & Brother, Providence, and Newport, R. I. McDonald, D., Main Street, Buffalo, New York. Miles, Chas. T., Fayette, Jefferson Co., Miss. McClees & Germon, Philadelphia, Pa. M'Intyre, S. C., San Francisco. California. Morand, A., 132 Chatham Street, N. Y. Naramore, William, Bridgeport, Conn. Nichols, John P., No. 75 Court street, Boston, Mass. Ormsbee & Silsbee, No. 203 Washington street, Mass. Owen, N., Goshen, N. Y. Prosch, G. W., Newark, N. J. Peck, Samuel, New Haven, Ct. Powelson & Co., 177 Broadway, N. Y. Prod'homme, J. F., 663 Broadway, N. Y. Reynolds, G. L., Lexington, Va. Rice, S. N., 194 Canal Street, N. Y. Root, M. A. & S., No. 363 Broadway, New York, and 140 Chesnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. Ritten, E. D., Dunburry, Conn. Swift, H. B., 312 Market St, Philadelphia, Pa. Sawyer, Jo., Boston, Mass. Stansbury, B., Brooklyn, L. I. Stamm & Upman, Milwaukee, Wis. Sissons, N. E., No. 496 Broadway, Albany, N. Y. Shorb, J. R., Winnsboro, S. C. Shew, Myron, Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. Thompson, S. J., No. 57 State Street, Albany, New York. Terry, Arther, Lima, Peru. Tomlinson, William A., Troy, New York. Van Alsten, A., Worcester, Mass. Vail, J. H., New Brunswick, N. J. Van Loan & Co., Chestnut street, Philadelphia, Pa. Westcott, C. P., Watertown, Jefferson Co., N. Y. Wood, R. L., Macon, Ga. Whipple, John A., Washington Street, Boston, Mass. Whitehurst, J. H., New York, Richmond, Norfolk, Petersburg, and Lynchbury, Va., Baltimore, Md., and Washington City, D. C. Wells, J. D., No. 3, Pleasant street, Northampton, Mass. Walker, S. L., Broadway, Albany and Poughkeepsie, N. Y. Warren, Geo. K., 128 Merrimack st., Lowell, Mass. Walker & Horton, Newburgh, N. Y. Wentworth. Henry, Fort Plain, Montgomery Co., N. Y. Williams, J. A., Washington Square, Newport, R. I. Williams, J. B., Philadelphia, Pa. * * * * * =THE DAGUERREIAN JOURNAL,= =Devoted to the Daguerreian and Photogenic Arts,= _also, embracing the Sciences, Arts and Literature_. The Daguerreian Journal is published semi-monthly, at 311 Broadway, on the 1st and 15th of every month. =Business Department.= Terms--_Three Dollars_ a year; in advance. =Inducements for Clubbing.= Two copies of this Journal will be furnished for one year for $5; four do. for $9; and ten do. for $20 =Advertising.= One square of 6 lines or less, one insertion, $0 50 Do. do. 10 " " " 75 Do. do. 14 " " " 1 00 Half page, one insertion, 6 00 One page, " " 10 00 Less than a half page, a year, per line, 1 00 Half page, per year, 50 00 One page, " 100 00 Register of Daguerreian Artists, not exceeding two lines, $1 per year. It is particularly requested that all addressing letters to us, would put on the State, as well as the Town in which they live. Subscribers are authorised and requested to send bank notes or change by mail, at our risk, provided it is done in the presence of the Post Master, and the letters are franked. All communications and remittances intended for this Journal, in order to secure attention should be post paid. Daguerreian Artists that are travelling in the country, can have this Journal sent to any place where they may be, provided they give us notice, and the Post Office changed from. [Hand] All Letters should be addressed (post paid) to S. D. HUMPHREY Publisher, 311 Broadway, New York. * * * * * =GURNEY'S DAGUERREIAN GALLERY.= _189 Broadway, N. Y.,_ Has been known for years as one of the First Establishments of the kind in the country, and the oldest in this city. Mr. G. attends personally to the Operating Department, and having a superior arrangement of Light, as well also as every other ability; and from his long experience in the Art, he is at all times enabled to give perfect satisfaction to all who wish a good likeness. His collection of large size pictures of distinguished persons, are universally pronounced superior to any heretofore taken in this country. Ladies and Gentlemen are respectfully invited to examine them: 189 Broadway, directly opposite John Street. _Copies of a Superior Daguerreotype of_ Jenny Lind _for sale_. * * * * * =JAMES BROWN'S= DAGUERREOTYPE MINIATURE GALLERY. _181 Broadway: Rear Stairs._ THE undersigned, for four years the principal Operator of M. B. Brady, has the honor to announce to his friends, and the fashionable circle, that his Rooms are now open at the above No., for the transaction of business, where he will be pleased to see his friends and the public generally; and hopes to receive a portion of that patronage so liberally extended to him while principal at Brady's. He will also take the liberty of mentioning, to those unacquainted with the fact, that the pictures which have received the different premiums for Mr. Brady, were taken, colored, and arranged, with the assistance of Mr. Hays, who is still with him, entirely by himself. Particular attention is called to the very superior coloring tone and finish of the impressions from this establishment, which, through an incessant study of seven years, the subscriber feels conscious in asserting can always be relied on, as he attends personally to his sitters. Pictures taken in any weather, in any desired style, and his charges being extremely moderate, he hopes to suit all classes. JAMES BROWN, _Member of the Society for the Promotion of Painting in Water Colors, and for ten years a Student in the National Academy of Design._ * * * * * =DOBYNS & Co.= DEALERS in all kinds of Daguerreotype Stock, Plates, Chemicals, and Apparatus. No. 6 & 28 Camp Street, New Orleans, La.; No. 60 Front Row, Memphis, Tenn.; No. 489 Main Street, Louisville, Ky. * * * * * =INSLEY'S DAGUERREOTYPES.= HAYING had the honor, in the early part of 1840, to establish ONE of the THREE Galleries first opened to the public, in this city or the world, viz: by Mr. Wolcott, Professors Morse & Draper, and Insley and Prosch, the undersigned flatters himself that his prolonged experience will enable him to give entire satisfaction to those who desire Likenesses by this charming process. INSLEY, 311 Broadway, N. Y. * * * * * =M. A. & S. ROOTS DAGUERREIAN ROOMS.= CORNER of Broadway and Franklin Street, New York. M. A. & S. Root, celebrated for years as Daguerreian Artists in Philadelphia, have opened a magnificently furnished SUITE OF ROOMS, in the most fashionable part of the city, (No. 363 Broadway, corner of Franklin Street,) where, having an admirably arranged light, they flatter themselves that they will be able to furnish Daguerreotype Likenesses, equal in finish, accuracy and effect, to anything of the kind in the world. They have received Six Medals from the various Fairs and Institutes of our country; also the two highest Medals at the Fair of 1850 in New York and Philadelphia, for the best specimens of Daguerreotypes ever exhibited. The public are respectfully invited to visit their Rooms and examine their Gallery of Likenesses of the most distinguished people. Gallery Free. * * * * * =MYRON SHEW,= DEALER in Daguerreotype Apparatus and Materials, Wholesale and Retail, 116 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia. * * * * * =A. MORAND= DAGUERREIAN ARTIST, 132 Chatham Street, N. Y. * * * * * =J. W. THOMPSON'S= DAGUERREIAN GALLERY and Depot of Daguerreian Materials of all kinds, Instruments, Apparatus, and everything belonging to the Art, for sale at low prices. Every Operator knows the advantage of buying his Stock (especially plates and chemicals) of a person who not only sells Stock, but is also a practical Daguerreotypist. 315 Broadway, N. Y. * * * * * =POSTAGE ON THE DAGUERREIAN JOURNAL= THERE has been a few instances where Postmasters have charged pamphlet postage on this Journal. We say the Daguerreian Journal is "subject to newspaper postage only," because that is all that can legally be charged on it. A newspaper must be published as often as "once a month," and contain intelligence of passing events. This publication is semi-monthly, and contains, a general summary of "passing events." The law says it may contain two sheets, if the two together do not exceed 1,900 square inches. This Journal contains less than 1,100 square inches. These sheets may be folded in any shape, or printed on paper of any color. The following is an extract from the Act of Congress for regulating postage. "A newspaper is defined to be any printed publication issued in numbers, and published at stated intervals of not more than a month, conveying intelligence of passing events. It generally consists of a sheet, but may be composed of two sheets of paper. In such case, it is chargeable with newspaper postage only; provided that the sheets in the aggregate do not exceed 1,900 square inches. "A pamphlet is a small, unbound, printed book." * * * * * =LAWRENCE SCIENTIFIC SCHOOL,= HARVARD UNIVERSITY =CAMBRIDGE, MASS.= Special Students attend daily from nine o'clock, A. M., till five o'clock, P. M., in the Laboratories, and under the direction of the following Professors: Louis Agassiz, L. L. D., Professor of Geology and Zoology; Jeffries Wyman, M. D., Professor of Comparative Anatomy and Physiology; Henry L. Eustis, A. M., Professor of Engineering; Eben Norton Horsford, A. M., Professor of Chemistry. Instruction is also given by Professor Peirce, in Mathematics; Professor Lovering, in Physics; and the Messrs Bond, at the Astronomical Observatory. All lectures delivered to under-graduates of the College, are free to members of the Scientific School. For further information apply to E. N. Horsford, Dean of the Faculty. * * * * * =DAGUERREOTYPE.= The undersigned would call the attention of Daguerreotypists and the trade to the recent improvements in their manufacture of plates, which, by a new method of finishing, enables them to present an article possessing a finer and softer surface, and requiring much less polishing than formerly. The edges of all are neatly bent. Owing to greater facilities in manufacturing, the prices have been reduced, so as to bring them at about the same cost as the best imported brands. They have constantly on hand a large assortment of Plates, Cases, Frames, Mattings, Preservers, Lockets, Chemicals, and Apparatus of every style and variety which they offer at the lowest prices. Agents for Voightlander's, Harrison's and other Cameras; Harrison's new Buffing Wheel, &c., &c. Scovill Manufacturing Co., No. 57 Maiden Lane, New York. * * * * * =CINCINNATI= DAGUERREOTYPE STOCK ESTABLISHMENT. The undersigned would call the attention of those wishing Daguerreotype goods, to his large and general assortment of all articles appertaining to the Daguerreian arts. The following named articles comprise only a few, compared with the great variety of his stock. _Cameras_--"_Voightlander and Sohn's_" German Cameras. C. C. Harrison's Quarter, Halves, Wholes, Mammoth, View, and Quick Working Cameras. Also a general assortment from other manufacturers. Complete sets of Apparatus--such as Coating Boxes, Mercury Baths, Plate Holders, Buffs, Buff Wheel, Peck's and Scovill's Patent Blocks, Lewis' new Iron Rests, Iron and Chair Head Rests, Gilding Stands. Cases--Papier-Mache inlaid with Mother of Pearl, Velvet in and out with Clasps and Locks, Morocco lined with Velvet, Silk and Satin, Plain and Gilt, also a great variety of fancy patterns. Plates of all sizes--Scovill's, French, 40th of the Star, and other first quality Brands. Chemicals--American, German and French Bromine, Dry and Chloride of Iodine, Hydroflouric Acid, Cyanide of Potassium, Pure Distilled Mercury, a superior article of Chloride of Gold for Gilding, Hyposulphite of Gold, Chloride of Calcium, Colors, Rotten Stone, Rouge, an excellent article. Lamps, Nippers, Glass Funnels, Glass Graduates, Prepared Buckskins, Brushes, &c., &c. All of the above articles are of the first quality, and will be furnished at reasonable rates. Orders punctually attended to and satisfaction given. PETER SMITH, No. 36 Fifth street, Cincinnati, Ohio. * * * * * =MYRON SHEW,= DEALER IN DAGUERREOTYPE APPARATUS AND MATERIALS, WHOLESALE AND RETAIL, No. 116 Chestnut street, Philadelphia, Pa. German and American Cameras of all sizes and of the best manufacture, Coating Boxes, Camera Stands, Mercury Baths, Buffing Vices, Head Rests, Plates, Cases, Chemicals, Frames, Gold and Gilt Lockets, Fancy Book Cases, Papier-Mache Cases, Preservers, Mats, Glass, and all articles used in the Art constantly on hand in great variety at the lowest prices. Mr. S. having had a number of years practical experience in the Daguerreian Art, feels confident that he is prepared to give satisfaction to his customers in the selection of articles used in the business. This being the only establishment in Philadelphia devoted exclusively to Daguerreotype materials, Artists will find it to their interest to call at once where they are sure of finding every article used in the Art. Orders from the country promptly and faithfully attended to. * * * * * Transcriber Note Minor typos have been corrected. Images moved to prevent splitting paragraphs. Various formats were used to display pricing these were not standardized. The listing of Registered Users was left in the order published. Illustrations of a right pointing hand for advertisements is denoted as [Hand]. 
42547	----	generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) Transcriber's Note: Inconsistent numbering of figures and references to figures have been retained as in the original publication. [Illustration: A Specimen of Woodburytype Printing.] THE ART AND PRACTICE OF SILVER PRINTING. BY H. P. ROBINSON & CAPT. ABNEY, R.E., F.R.S. THE AMERICAN EDITION, NEW YORK: E. & H. T. ANTHONY & CO., NO. 591 BROADWAY. 1881. PREFACE. Silver printing has been often doomed, but it still survives. Other processes of photographic printing have been introduced, nearly all of them having their individual merits, especially that of permanency, but all lacking in two essential qualities--ease of production and beauty of result. In these particulars no process has ever approached the one to the working of which this little book is devoted. The one defect of silver printing is the possibility of its results fading; but surely it is better to be beautiful, if fading, than permanent and ugly. It is better to be charmed with a beautiful thing for a few years, than be bored by an ugly one for ever. But is silver printing necessarily a fading process? We have in our possession a large number of silver photographs produced from twenty to twenty-five years ago, which are as perfect in tone and colour as when they were produced. Carefully prepared, and properly kept, a silver print should be as permanent as any other. That silver prints should be permanent as well as beautiful, has been the object of THE AUTHORS. TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I.--Preliminary Experiments 1 II.--Preparation of Albumenized Paper 6 III.--The Sensitizing Bath 13 IV.--How to Keep the Sensitizing Bath in Order 20 V.--Silvering the Paper 26 VI.--Washed Sensitive Paper 31 VII.--Cutting Paper 36 VIII.--Printing-Frames 42 IX.--Preparing the Landscape Negative 45 X.--Printing the Landscape 49 XI.--Preparing the Portrait Negative 57 XII.--Vignetting 60 XIII.--Printing the Portrait 69 XIV.--Combination Printing 74 XV.--Toning 85 XVI.--Fixing the Print 92 XVII.--Washing the Print 95 XVIII.--Printing on Plain Paper 99 XIX.--Printing on Resinized Paper 100 XX.--Printing on Gelatino-Chloride Emulsion Paper 103 XXI.--Drying the Prints 105 XXII.--Mounting Photographs 110 XXIII.--Defects in Prints 115 XXIV.--Encaustic Paste 117 XXV.--Enamelling Prints 119 XXVI.--Cameo Prints 121 Appendix 123 CHAPTER I. THEORY OF SILVER PRINTING. Perhaps it may be wise, first of all, to give the reader some account of the manner in which the subject of silver printing is to be treated, before entering into very minute details, so that it may be followed as a whole, instead of being studied in fragments, a course which is sure to lead to failure, from a want of comprehending what may have been skipped. To understand "the why" and "the wherefore" of every detail is an essential in most occupations, and it is wonderful that photographers are satisfied with the results of rule-of-thumb formulæ, instead of reasoning out their utility. In the following pages most of the theoretical considerations will be brought out in such a manner that everyone will be able to understand them, provided only that there is a slight acquaintance with the name and properties of the chemicals which are dealt with. PRELIMINARY EXPERIMENTS. Into a glass beaker put a couple of pinches of common salt, which must be dissolved in a little water. In a test-tube[1] dissolve about an equal amount of silver nitrate (AgNO_{3}), and add it to the salt solution. We shall find that we have an immediate precipitate, for chloride of silver will be formed by what is called double[2] decomposition, and there will remain in solution a soluble salt known as sodium nitrate. When the silver chloride has settled down, decant off the liquid, and add water to it once or twice, draining off each time. Divide the chloride into four parts, placing each part on a strip of glass. On two of them pour a little common salt solution, and on the other two pour a little solution of silver nitrate; take one of each pair, and place it in a dark cupboard (if warmed, the quicker will be the operation) to dry. Take the other two moist portions of chloride into the open air, and expose them to daylight, and note the results. It will be seen that one of these will darken very rapidly to a violet colour, whilst the other will remain much lighter, though perceptibly blackening. After a time the latter will appear to grow deeper, whilst the former will become a deep black. The one that blackens most rapidly will be found to be that one on which the silver nitrate was poured. Divide the slightly blackened chloride on the strip of glass into two portions, and over one pour a little beer, and over the other a weak solution of potassium nitrite, and again note the difference. It will be found that here the blackening commences anew, but proceeds much more rapidly on that portion over which the nitrite was poured. Here are the experiments. What do they teach? Potassium nitrite, and silver nitrate, are both inorganic salts, and they both have an affinity for--that is, tend to combine with--any of the halogens (by which are meant such bodies as chlorine, iodine, bromine, and fluorine). In the former case we have silver chloride formed with a little hypo-chlorous acid; in the latter we have a more difficult decomposition: the potassium nitrite is decomposed into hydrochloric acid and potassium nitrate.[3] We can tell that chlorine is liberated by the action of light on silver chloride, since if we prepare some as above, well wash it, and expose it to light in pure water, we shall find that the latter contains chlorine, since a few drops of silver nitrate poured into it after exposure give a white precipitate. If we make the same experiments with the dried portions of silver chloride as we did with the moist, we shall obtain the same results, with the exception that with the dried, in which there is excess of salt, there will be hardly any discolouration. The experimentalist should also note that if the darkened chloride be broken up, the interior retains its white colour in all its purity. This tells us that the discolouration is _almost_ confined to the surface, hence it is useless, for printing purposes, to have such a mass of chloride as would be opaque, since all but a very thin film would be unacted upon. If the darkened chloride be examined closely, it will be seen that the colour varies, being bluer in the case of that which has silver nitrate in contact with it (either moist or dry) as compared with that which is darkened in contact with the potassium nitrite. We have the best of reasons for believing that the blue colour is really due to a combination between the sub-chloride and the oxygen contained in the water or in the air. The true colour of the sub-chloride is that which is exposed beneath an oxygen absorbent such as the nitrite. Practical printers are aware that albumenized paper containing a chloride is employed for producing silver prints, and the probability is that the albumen must exercise some kind of influence on the resulting picture. Let us examine this, and see what effect it can have. Carefully break an egg, and separate the yolk from the white, pouring the latter into a beaker. Beat up the white with a bundle of quill pens, allow the froth to subside, and then filter it. Pour a little of the filtered albumen (the white of egg) into a test-tube, and add a little silver nitrate solution to it, and expose the precipitate which falls to light. It will be seen that it darkens rapidly, assuming a foxy red colour. Take a couple of glass plates and coat them with plain collodion, wash under the tap, and whilst still moist flow albumen over them two or three times, and set them up to dry. When thoroughly dry, plunge them for a few seconds into a weak solution of silver nitrate (30 grains to the ounce of water will suffice), wash one under the tap, and then allow both to dry again. Take both plates out into the light, and note the results. The one from which the silver nitrate has not been washed will darken very rapidly, the other will take some time to start; but if the exposure be sufficiently prolonged, it will gradually assume a hue equally as dark as the other. If we repeat these experiments with gelatine, which is used as a sizing in some papers, we shall find very much the same nature of things taking place, the differences being so slight, however, as not to require detailed notice. So far, then, we have considered the darkening properties of the silver compounds which are to be used by the printer, but it remains to be seen what _permanency of darkening_ they possess. If we treat the darkened silver chloride solution exposed with the silver nitrate or the potassium nitrite to a solution of hyposulphite of soda or ammonia, both of which are solvents of the white chloride, we shall find that a residue of metallic silver is left behind. If we treat the darkened albuminate of silver with the same agents, we shall find that very little change is effected by them. From this we may gather that the action of light on them is of a totally different nature.[4] This is also most marked if we treat the two with hydrosulphuric acid solution (sulphuretted hydrogen[5]). It will be found that the colour of the darkened silver chloride becomes more intense, while the other is bleached, or, rather, becomes of a yellow tint. This last effect has an important bearing on the permanency of silver prints, as will be more fully explained when considering the subject of fixing the print. CHAPTER II. PREPARATION OF ALBUMENIZED PAPER. In printing on albumenized paper we must divide the operations, and give a detailed account of each. In case the reader may desire to prepare his own paper, we give the following formula and directions. To prepare the albumen, procure a sufficient number of eggs, remembering that the white of a large egg will be about a fluid ounce; have a cup to collect the yolks, and a four-ounce measure at hand. Give the centre of the egg a smart blow against the top of the cup. The shell can now be readily pulled in two, the yolk remaining unbroken with part of the albumen in one half, and the rest of the albumen in the other half of the shell. Take the halves, one in each hand, and pour the albumen from one to the other, holding them over the small measure. As the operation continues, the yolk will gradually separate, the white falling into the vessel below. If conducted with care, the whole of the latter will be collected without breaking the yolk. If the yolk break, some will be sure to find its way into the measure along with the white, and this, together with the white speck known as the tread, must be rigorously taken out by means of a spoon. The _uncontaminated_ white is then poured into a large jar. If the operator carefully collects the white of each egg into the four-ounce ounce measure first, he will find his labour much diminished, as it is awkward to get out the small pieces of yolk from a large quantity of albumen. The eggs are thus broken, and the white collected till there is a sufficient quantity for the purpose in hand. Suppose we are going to make up 20 ounces of solution, then about 18 ounces of white of egg must be found in the jar. One point to settle is the amount of salt to be used to each ounce of albumen. It must be recollected that a medium quantity is the best for medium negatives; anything between 20 and 40 grains per ounce may be used. We prefer ourselves about 25. Supposing this quantity to be used, we proceed to dissolve 500 grains of chloride of ammonium in 2 ounces of water, and add it to the albumen. It has been proved that as regards colour of the picture, it does not matter what chloride is used. To prevent crystallization, it is better to use ammonium, which contains a greater amount of chlorine than do sodium or potassium chlorides. It must now be beaten up till it is in a froth. This breaks up the fibrous matter, and on subsidence the liquid will be found to be limpid. The most convenient implement with which to beat up the albumen is the American egg-beater. Three or four minutes' work is quite sufficient to make the whole into a froth. An ordinary culinary whisk, such as is used in the kitchen, may also be put into requisition, or, in default of that, a bundle of quill pens. A lesson in producing a froth can be learnt from the cook of the establishment. When the salted albumen has settled it must be filtered, which, perhaps, is best effected through a sponge, though glass-wool is a capital substitute. In either case a small, loosely-fitting plug is placed in the neck of an ordinary funnel, and, after rinsing with cold water, the albumen is poured in, and allowed to filter through slowly. It is advisable to avoid bubbles as far as possible, and the accompanying arrangement will be found to avoid their formation. The funnel is placed in the position shown (fig. 1); the capillary attraction between it and the glass will cause the drops to trickle down the side, and collect, without bubbles, at the bottom. This little contrivance will be found of use in other operations besides that of silver printing, and should be made a note of. The albumen may also be filtered through one, two, or three thicknesses of muslin, according to its fineness, tied over the mouth of a bottle or beaker of which the bottom has been removed. The albumen is placed in a vessel slightly larger than the filter, which is allowed to sink gradually. When full it is withdrawn, and the fluid poured into the dish. By this plan upward filtration is established. The fluid may be poured into the filter itself, and used in the ordinary manner.[6] [Illustration: _Fig._ 1.] [Illustration: _Fig._ 2.] On a larger scale, white of eggs in a fresh condition can be obtained from egg merchants who utilize the yolks by selling them to the grocers and confectioners. Albumen can be obtained by the gallon in this condition, according to the price of eggs. It will be evident that there is considerable economy in taking the whites wholesale. As a rule, about three gallons of albumen will coat two reams of albumenized paper. Mr. England (to whom we are indebted for so many of our remarks on albumenizing paper) procures about the latter quantity at a time, and beats it up mechanically in a large vat holding some fifty gallons, in order to allow space for the froth. He allows the albumen to rest four days before employing it, and filters it through three thicknesses of flannel. The quality of paper to be used varies considerably with the custom of the printer. Thus, in some countries, we find a much thinner paper used than in England. The great desideratum is that it should be perfectly opaque to transmitted light. A good test of this is to make a couple of black ink marks on a piece of white paper, and then press down firmly the paper it is proposed to employ over this. If the black ink marks are indistinguishable, the paper will do as regards this quality, as the light reflected from the surface which gives the impression of whiteness to the eye is much stronger than the light which penetrates through it, and is absorbed by the black lines. As to quality, it is best to trust to the manufacturer, those known as Saxe and Rives papers answering better than any other that we know of. The Rives is, when moist, a paper which is more easily torn than the Saxe, and, consequently, we recommend that the former be employed for small work, such as portraits, and the latter for large landscape prints. In regard to the sizes to be albumenized, it must be left to the operator to say what will be the most useful to him. It is rarely advisable to albumenize less than a half sheet of paper, the whole size of which is about 22 by 18 inches; 11 by 18 is not an inconvenient size to manipulate. At any rate, a dish larger each way by a couple of inches than the paper must be procured, and put on a level table. The temperature of the room should be at least 90°, in fact, the hotter it is the more glossy will be the resulting paper. The solution, free from bubbles, is poured in, and should be of a depth of at least 1/2 an inch. Suppose the smaller size to be coated, before commencing, the paper is taken by the two opposite corners, the hands brought together, and the convex side brought on to the surface of the fluid; the hands are then separated, and the paper will gradually float on the surface. One corner should be gradually raised to see that all air-bubbles are absent. If there be any, they should be broken with the point of a glass rod, and the paper again lowered. Bubbles can usually be seen through the paper, and, instead of raising it, a few gentle taps with the finger over the spot will generally move the bubble to the edge of the paper. In practice, some have found it well to moisten the surface of the paper with a damp sponge, and when quite surface dry to albumenize it. This should, however, be unnecessary. The sheet should remain on the albumen a little over a minute, when it could be gently raised by one corner and allowed to drain over a basin; it is then caught by a couple of American clips and hung up to dry.[7] [Illustration: _Fig._ 3.] Supposing a whole sheet is to be coated, it will be found more convenient to take the sheet by the corners of _one end_, one in each hand, and to lower the surface near the end of the dish, and gradually draw the paper over the side of the dish till the whole surface is flat. Bubbles can be got rid of as shown above. Two large dishes are usually employed, and by the time the second sheet is floated in the second dish, the first sheet of paper is ready for removal from the first dish. The sheets, when slowly removed from the bath, are allowed to drain a few seconds, and then thrown over wooden rods of some two inches in diameter, which are removed to a rack, and placed near a trough to collect the drainings.[8] When drained sufficiently the rods are removed to other racks, and the paper allowed to dry spontaneously. It is the practice of some albumenized paper manufacturers to hang the sheets over a line, uncoated side next the line; but this is a mistake, as it will nearly always be found, on sensitising the paper and exposing it, that a mark is left across the paper corresponding to the part where the string touched the back of the paper. In practice we have found that each sheet of paper takes up about 1/3 oz. of solution, and, of course, its equivalent quantity of salt. The principal difficulty in albumenizing paper is the occurrence of lines on the paper in the direction in which it was placed on the surface of the albumen. Any arrest of motion in floating the paper will cause them, but more usually it is due to imperfect beating up of the solution. Some papers are not readily coated with albumen, in which case the remedy given above may prove effectual; or a little solution of oxgall may be equally well applied. A want of gloss in the dried albumen may be due to too long a floating on the fluid, or to floating and drying the paper in too low a temperature. The explanation of the first cause is that albumen, when fresh, has an alkaline reaction, due to the presence of a small quantity of soda, which may be said to be its base, and any alkali will dissolve the gelatinous sizing of a paper. When the sizing is dissolved, instead of remaining on the surface, the albumen sinks into the paper, and thereby the gloss is lost. When albumen is stale it no longer possesses this alkaline reaction, but has an acid reaction quite visible on the application of blue litmus paper to it; the blue colour disappears and is replaced by a red tint. When in the alkaline state, the paper is much more difficult to coat, but an acid condition means the production of inferior tones. _Rolling the Paper._--The paper, when dried, is often rolled with a heavy pressure to improve the gloss; a copper-plate press is found to answer admirably, placing the albumenized side next the bed. This rolling should not be necessary if attention be paid to the temperature of the preparation room. The higher the temperature the finer will be the gloss, as we have already said. CHAPTER III. THE SENSITIZING BATH FOR ALBUMENIZED PAPER. To render albumenized paper sensitive to light it has to be treated with a solution of silver nitrate, and the most convenient method of applying it is to float it on a dish containing the silver salt in solution. The first point to consider is the strength of the solution. If we float albumenized paper (face downwards) on a solution of 10 grains of silver nitrate to the ounce of water, we shall find, what at first sight may seem to be remarkable, that the albumen will be dissolved away from the paper, and that there will be a precipitate left in the silver solution. Why is this? It must be remembered that albumen is soluble in water: it is coagulated or insoluble in water when combined with silver nitrate. The fact is that the quantity of silver nitrate in the solution we have been experimenting with is too small. The water dissolves the albumen first, and then the silver has time to act upon it to form the insoluble albuminate. If we soak paper in common salt, and treat it in the same way with the same strength of solution, we shall find that this is not the case: the silver chloride will remain on the paper. From this we learn two facts. 1st. That the silver solution has a greater affinity for the chloride than for the albuminate, and that in an equal mixture of the two more chloride would be formed than albuminate; in other words, that the ammonium chloride would be totally converted into silver chloride long before the silver albuminate was formed. 2nd. That a certain strength of silver nitrate is necessary to prevent the albumen dissolving from off the paper. This last fact has fixed the lowest strength of any sensitizing solution to be thirty grains to the ounce, and even if this be taken as a limit, it is necessary that the water should be rendered less active by holding some other soluble matter in its embraces. This is usually effected by adding some other neutral and inactive nitrates. There does not seem to be any theoretical limit to the amount of silver nitrate in solution, but practically it rarely contains more than 80 grains to the ounce, though occasionally we have heard of it being used of a strength of 100 grains to the ounce. The important point now presents itself. How are we to fix the strength of the bath? What principles must we follow? To answer these questions we extract a passage from another work of this series.[9] "If a paper be coated with albumen (say) in which has been dissolved a certain quantity of a soluble chloride, and floated on a silver solution, both chloride and albuminate of silver are formed. It depends, however, on the strength of the solution as to what proportions of each are present, owing to the fact that the organic compound is much slower in formation than the chloride, and has less affinity for the silver. If the silver solution be not sufficiently strong, the chloride may rob that portion of it with which it is in contact of all the silver before any (or, at all events, sufficient) albuminate has been formed, the molecule being composed almost entirely of silver chloride. The stronger the silver solution the more 'organate' will it contain; whilst if it be very weak, very little will be present. Hence it is with albumenized paper which is weakly salted with a silver chloride a weak sensitizing bath may be used, whilst if it be rich in the chloride it must be of proportionate strength." It will now be seen that the proportion of chloride to albumen has to settle the point. We next have to consider the time during which the silver should be in contact with the paper when the floating is commenced. Let us take the case of a strong silver solution, and consider the action that will follow. Immediately the paper is placed in contact with the solution, silver chloride is formed, and the amount of the silver nitrate in the layer of fluid in immediate contact with the surface being scarcely diminished by the formation of silver chloride, the albuminate is formed almost simultaneously, forming a film which is to a great extent impermeable to the liquid. But even before this layer is coagulated, the next layer of chloride will have been formed, so that we may say we have one layer of albuminate and chloride of silver, and one layer of chloride of silver alone. The further penetration of the silver solution will be very slow; hence, for fully saturating both the albumen and the salt with silver, the time of flotation must be prolonged. For some purposes, however, this is not necessary, as will be seen presently. Next let us trace the action of a weak solution, not weak enough to dissolve the albumen off the paper, but of the minimum strength. The solution, as before, would immediately form the silver chloride, but before the albumen had coagulated at the surface, the solution would penetrate to the interior of the film, and then the formation of the albuminate would proceed nearly equally throughout the whole of the interior. Evidently, then, in this case, the contact of the silver solution would be less prolonged than in the former case. If the floating be prolonged the silver solution in the interior will become weakened, and partially dissolve the albumen and be carried by the water into the interior of the paper; it will also partially dissolve off the surface, and a negative printed on such a paper would have all the appearance of being dead in lustre, and existing in the paper itself instead of on the surface. We may thus summarize:-- 1. A paper floated on a strong solution may require long floating. 2. A paper floated on a weak solution requires short floating. 3. And the strength of the solution may be between the 30 grains and 80 grains to the ounce of silver according to the amount of soluble chloride dissolved in the albumen on the paper when the negative is really good as regards opacity and delicacy. The knowledge of the amount of chloride in the paper supplied by dealers has to be arrived at somehow, and the following method will answer. Cut up a quarter sheet of the paper into small pieces, and place them in a couple of ounces of methylated spirit. This will dissolve out most of the chloride, and should be decanted off. Another two ounces of spirit should be added to the paper, and, after thoroughly soaking, should be decanted off, and added to the other spirit. The spirit containing the chloride may then be placed in a glass vessel standing in hot water, when it will evaporate and leave the chloride behind. It may be weighed; but since it is better to know how much silver chloride (AgCl) would be formed, the residue should be dissolved in a few drops of water, and a little silver nitrate added. The silver chloride will be precipitated, and should be carefully washed with water, and then be filtered, the paper being opened out and dried before the fire on filter paper. The chloride is then detached and weighed; 3-1/2 grains of silver chloride would show that a weak bath should be used, whilst 10 grains would show that a strong bath was required. With most brands of albumenized paper directions are issued as to the best strength of silver nitrate solution for sensitizing, and a fair estimate of the chloride present can be gained from such directions. A weak solution loses much of its strength by each sheet of paper floated, much more proportionally, in fact, than a strong solution, since the same amount of fluid is absorbed by the paper in each case, whilst the amount of silver abstracted from the _whole_ is also equal, which reduces the strength per ounce more with the former than with the latter. A weak sensitizing solution, therefore, requires much more attention than a strong one: crystals of silver nitrate must be constantly added to the former. In practice and for general work, then, we recommend a moderately strong bath, the method of making up of which we shall describe. To make up 2 pints of solution with a strength of 50 grains to the ounce, we shall require 2,000 grains of silver nitrate. This is carefully weighed out in the scales, a piece of _filter paper being placed in each pan_. By adopting this plan freedom from all impurities that may cling to the pans will be avoided, and the silver nitrate will be perfectly pure. Place the silver salt in a large clean bottle, and add half-a-pint of water to it, and shake it to dissolve it. The best water for the purpose is distilled water; but filtered rain, pure spring, or river water answers well. If the water contain any chlorides, it will be shown by a milkiness due to a formation of silver chloride. This must be filtered out when the remaining pint and a-half of water is added. The solution is now ready for use, and, being of the simplest character, is not to be excelled, though the addition of some soluble salts may be advantageous, particularly in dry climates or in very dry weather. Such salts are found in sodium nitrate, or ammonium nitrate, as much as equal weights of either of these substances being added. Thus our formula would stand as follows were these additions made:-- _Original Solution._ 1.--Silver nitrate 50 grains Water 1 ounce _Modified Solution._ 2.--Silver nitrate 50 grains Ammonium nitrate or sodium nitrate 50 " Water 1 ounce The reason of the addition of the ammonium or sodium nitrate is that prints are better obtained on paper which is not absolutely free from water. When very dry, the liberated chlorine (see page 32) is apt to attack the albuminate, whereas it is deprived of much of its activity when it is able to be absorbed by water, which, in the presence of light, is decomposed into hydrochloric acid and oxygen.[10] Hydrochloric acid can attack the silver nitrate present in the pores of the paper, and produce fresh silver chloride. If the paper were quite dry, the liberated chlorine would scarcely be able to attack even the silver. Moisture, though very little, is desirable. In the excessively dry climate of India, &c., in the summer, one or other of these deliquescent salts should be invariably present for the purpose indicated, unless fuming be resorted to. The sensitizing bath should also never be allowed to be acid with nitric acid, since the resulting prints would invariably be poor. The best way of securing this neutral state is by keeping a little carbonate of silver at the bottom of the bottle in which the solution is kept. A few drops of a solution of sodium carbonate added to the bottle over-night will secure this. The reason why nitric acid is to be avoided is shown by placing a print in dilute nitric acid. It is well known that darkened silver chloride is unaffected by it; but the print will be found to change colour, and to become duller and redder than if washed in water alone. The nitric acid evidently attacks the albumen. Nitric acid decomposes the carbonate of silver (which, be it remembered, is an insoluble body), forming silver nitrate, and liberating carbonic acid.[11] Alum in the printing bath has also been recommended for preventing the bath from discolouring, and it is effective in that it hardens the surface of the albumen; but the ordinary explanation of its effect is defective. If a solution of common alum be added to the silver nitrate we get silver sulphate (which is best out of the bath, and it is slightly soluble in the solution), and aluminium nitrate is formed.[12] The same effect would be produced if aluminium nitrate were added to the bath solution. We, however, give a means of adding it as recommended by some writers. When filtering the solution, put a small lump of alum in the filter paper, and pour the solution over it, or add one grain of alum to every ounce of solution, and then filter. CHAPTER IV. HOW TO KEEP THE SENSITIZING BATH IN ORDER. Experience tells us, however strong we may make the bath solution to coagulate the albumen on the paper, that a certain amount of organic matter will always be carried into it. At first this is not apparent, since it remains colourless in the solution; but after a time, after floating a few sheets of paper, the organic silver compound gradually decomposes, and the solution becomes of a brown or red tint, and if paper were floated on it in this condition there would be a dark surface and uneven sensitizing. It is, therefore, necessary to indicate the various means that may be employed to get rid of this impurity. The earliest, if not one of the best, is by the addition of white China clay, which is known in commerce as kaolin. A teaspoonful is placed in the bottle containing the solution, and well shaken up; the organic matter adheres to it, and precipitates to the bottom, and the liquid can be filtered through filter-paper or washed cotton-wool, when it will be found decolourized. Another mode of getting the liquid out of the bottle is to syphon it off by any syphon arrangement, and this prevents a waste in the solution from the absorption of the filtering medium. The accompanying arrangement (fig. 4) will be found useful for the purpose, and can be applied to other solutions where decantation is necessary. A is a wide-mouthed bottle holding the solution. B is a cork fitting the mouth, in which two holes have been bored to fit the two tubes, D and C, which are bent to the form shown. When the kaolin has subsided to the bottom, air is forced by the mouth into the bottle through C, the liquid rises over the bend of the tube D, and syphons off to the level of the bottom of the tube inserted into the liquid, provided the end of D, outside the bottle, comes below it. [Illustration: _Fig._ 4.] [Illustration: _Fig._ 5.] To bend a tube, a common gas flame is superior to a Bunsen burner. The tube is placed in the bright part of the flame in the position shown; by this means a good length of it gets heated, and a gentle bend is made without choking the bore, which would be the case were a point of a flame used. Another method of purifying the solution is by adding a few drops of hydrochloric (muriatic) acid to it. Chloride of silver is formed, and when well shaken up, carries down with it most of the organic matter, but leaves the bath acid from the formation of nitric acid.[13] This must be neutralized unless a little silver carbonate is left at the bottom of the bottle as described at page 20. A camphor solution may also be added for the same purpose. Make a saturated solution of camphor in spirits of wine, and add a couple of drachms to the solution, and shake well up. The camphor will collect the albumen, and it can be filtered out. In case the first dose does not decolourize it, another one must be added. Another plan is to add potassium permanganate (permanganate of potash) to it, till such time as the solution takes a faint permanent rose tint. The theory is that the organic matter is oxidized by the oxygen liberated from the permanganate, and falls to the bottom. It is not strictly true, however, and the solution will never be as free from organic matter as when the other methods are employed. The final and best method is to add a small quantity of sodium carbonate (say 5 grains), and expose it to daylight. When the organic matter becomes oxidized at the expense of the silver nitrate, the metallic silver with the oxidized organic matter will fall to the bottom. This plan answers admirably when time is no object, but in dull weather the action is slow. When once the precipitation fairly commences it goes on quickly, and if a little freshly precipitated metallic silver be left at bottom of the bottle the action is much more rapid. This is a wrinkle worth remembering in all photographic operations where precipitation is resorted to. We have hitherto supposed that the only contamination of the bath is organic matter, but it must be borne in mind that each sheet of paper floated on the solution transfers a certain amount of nitrate of the alkali[14] with which the albumen is salted. [Illustration: _Fig._ 6.] It will thus be seen that in an old bath there will be no need to add the soluble nitrates given in page 17, since they will be already formed. When they are in excess the best plan is to precipitate the silver by some means,[15] but we select one which is easy of application, since it requires no watching. Evaporate the solution to half its bulk, and slightly acidify it with nitric acid (10 drops to the pint of solution will suffice); throw some ordinary granulated zinc into the jar or bottle containing it; the silver will now be rapidly thrown down in the metallic state, and in the course of two or three hours the action will be complete. Next carefully pour off all the fluid as close as possible to the residue. Pick out all the lumps of zinc, and add a little dilute hydrochloric acid to dissolve up all the small particles of zinc which may be amongst the precipitated silver. Filter the solution away, and wash the residue once or twice with water. Take out the filter paper, and dry it before a fire, or in an oven, and then detach the silver, and transfer it to a small crucible, which place, with its contents, over a Bunsen burner or spirit lamp flame till it is red hot. The heat will destroy all organic matter, leaving a residue of carbonous matter behind, which, after subsequent operations, will be eliminated by filtration. Next cover the silver with nitric acid,[16] and in an evaporating dish slightly warm it over a spirit lamp or Bunsen burner. Red fumes will appear, and when all action has ceased, more acid must be added till such a time that very nearly (but not quite) all the silver is dissolved up. Then evaporate off all the fluid and allow it to cool, when water can be added to such an extent that it is _over strength_ for the bath. Now measure the whole bulk of the solution in a glass measure, and test by the argentometer for strength. An argentometer is, in reality, an instrument for taking the specific gravity of a liquid. It is as shown in the figure. A B is a glass tube, inside of which is a graduated scale showing grains; C is a hollow glass cylinder, which has a little glass ball filled with mercury. When immersed in water, the instrument sinks till the scale reads 0--that is, A B is deeply immersed. When any soluble salt is dissolved in the water, the stem rises further. If the soluble salt be silver nitrate, the scale is made to read grains per ounce. It is then evident, if the bath contains any other soluble salt besides the nitrate of silver, the readings will be untrustworthy. Supposing you have a total quantity of 10-1/4 ounces of solution, and the argentometer tells you it is of a strength of 105 grains to the ounce, you must make a small calculation to see how much water you must add. In 10-1/4 ounces of solution there will be 10-1/4 × 105 or 1076-1/4 grains of silver nitrate. If you want to make the bath 40 grains to the ounce, you must divide this quantity by 40, which is very nearly 27. The original amount of fluid (10-1/4 ounces), when deducted from this number of (27) ounces, will give you the amount (16-3/4 ounces) of water that is to be added to give you a bath of the required strength. When the water is added, the solution should be filtered from the carbonaceous matter, and the bath, after neutralizing with sodium carbonate, will be ready for use. CHAPTER V. APPLYING THE SILVERING SOLUTION TO THE ALBUMENIZED PAPER. As each piece of paper takes somewhere about five minutes to sensitize and hang up to dry, it is evident that the larger the piece of paper sensitised the greater will be the saving in time in this operation. Practically a whole sheet of paper, which is about 22 inches by 18, is the maximum ordinary size, whilst it may be convenient to float a piece as small as 3-1/4 by 4-1/4. There is not much difficulty in floating either one or the other if ordinary care be taken, but it is no use disguising the fact that large sheets are sometimes faultily sensitized even by experienced hands, if the solution be not in a proper state. The great enemy to success is the formation of bubbles on the surface of the solution, and if it be at all contaminated with organic matter they are more liable to be met with than if the bath be new. It may be taken as a maxim that no paper should be floated if, to commence with, the bath be not purified. A flat dish of about 2-1/2 inches in height, and an inch larger in breadth and length than the paper to be floated, is used, and the solution poured in to a depth of 1/2 inch. The paper is grasped by the two hands as shown at page 10, so that a convex albumen surface is formed downwards, which is placed diagonally across the dish and lowered on to the surface of the solution; the hands are at the same time separated outwards, so that the whole surface of the paper is caused to float on it without any arrest. By this means all air is forced out before the paper, and no bubbles should be beneath. To make assurance double sure, the paper is raised from the corners which were not grasped by the hands, and if by any chance a small bubble should be found, it is immediately broken by the point of a clean quill pen or glass rod. Before floating the paper the surface of the solution should be examined for scum or bubbles, both of which may be removed by passing a strip of clean blotting-paper across it. The dish employed should be scrupulously clean, and in cold weather it is a good plan to warm both it and the solution before the fire previous to use. In warm weather, the albumen of the paper may be in a very horny condition, which increases the liability to form bubbles. The writers have found that if the sheet of paper be exposed to the steam passing from a kettle of boiling water for a few seconds (moving it so that every portion shall come in contact with it) just before sensitising, the surface becomes more tractable, and in a better condition for sensitizing; keeping the paper in a moist atmosphere effects the same end. The length of time for floating the paper depends on the subjects to be printed, _but, as a rule_, three minutes with the 50-grain bath will be found to answer for the majority of negatives. When the proper time has elapsed, a corner of the paper is raised from the solution by means of a glass rod, and grasped by the thumb and forefinger of the right hand. It is then raised _very slowly_ from off the solution till another corner is clear, when that is grasped by the forefinger and thumb of the left hand; and it is finally withdrawn entirely, and drained a minute from the lowest corner into the dish. It is next hung up to dry by a corner which should be fastened to an American clip (fig. 7) suspended from a line stretched across the dark room, taking care to keep the corner which last left the solution the lowest. A piece of _clean_ blotting-paper about one inch long by 1/2 an inch wide is brought in contact with this latter corner, and adheres to it from the moisture. This collects the draining from the paper whilst drying, and prevents a loss of silver, since it can subsequently be detached and placed amongst the residues for burning. [Illustration: _Fig._ 7.] [Illustration: _Fig._ 8.] There is another mode of floating large sheets of paper, which is sometimes recommended. One corner is turned up about a quarter of an inch. This is held by the forefinger and thumb of the left hand, and the opposite corner of the diagonal held by the right hand. The first corner is brought on the solution near the opposite corner of the dish to that towards which it will eventually be near. The sheet, having assumed a convex form, is drawn by the left hand across the dish, the right hand being gradually turned to allow the whole surface to come slowly in contact with the solution. Air-bubbles are said to be avoided by this means, though for our own part we see no practical advantage in it over the last method. [Illustration: _Fig._ 9.] Some operators also, when lifting the paper from the dish, pass it over a glass rod placed as in the figure, in order to get rid of all superfluous fluid from the surface. This is a poor substitute for withdrawing the paper slowly from the dish, since capillary attraction is much more effective and even in its action than this rude mechanical means. By those who do not possess patience, however, it may be tried. Some practical photographers also "blot off" the excess of silver, but this is a dangerous practice unless there is a certainty that no "anti-chlor" has been used in preparing the blotting-paper. For our own part we recommend the usual mode of draining the paper. When surface dry, it can be dried in a drying box. The following is a kind which has been adopted by one eminent photographer, and is excellent in principle. Over a flat and closed galvanized iron bath erect a cupboard. Fig. 10 gives the elevation, and fig. 11 the section. A is the bath, D the cupboard, which may conveniently be closed with a roller shutter,[17] B, passing over _c c_, and is weighted by a bar of lead, so as to nearly balance the weight of the shutter when closed. A couple of Bunsen gas-burners, E E, heat the water in A; the steam generated is carried up the flue F, which also carries off the products of the combustion of the gas. The paper may be suspended from laths tacked at the top of the cupboard by means of American clips. [Illustration: _Fig._ 10.] [Illustration: _Fig._ 11.] CHAPTER VI. WASHED SENSITIVE PAPER. For some classes of work sensitized paper may be washed with advantage previous to drying, and there is much economy in this plan, particularly in hot weather, since it keeps of a purer white for a much longer period than where the silver nitrate is allowed to dry on the surface. It may not be out of place to call attention to the action of silver nitrate on the paper. If a stick of lunar caustic be applied to the skin when dried, there is a peculiar burning effect produced, and even in the dark the cuticle becomes discoloured, though not black. In the albumenized paper we have albumen and the gelatine sizing, and these substances behave somewhat like the skin. The gelatine particularly will become oxidized at the expense of the silver, a reddish organic oxide being formed; and again, if the silver nitrate be alkaline or strictly neutral, we have the same action occurring as when we precipitate metallic silver by means of an alkali, and an organic body such as sugar of milk. The gelatine takes the place of the latter. When the free silver nitrate is removed, the tendency for the spontaneous darkening of the paper is much diminished, since the chloride and albuminate of silver are much less readily reduced than the nitrate. The following plan is adopted for washing the paper:--The paper, after floating, is drawn twice rapidly through a dish of rain or distilled water, and, unless some other substance which can absorb chlorine be added to the last wash water, care should be taken not to soak out all the free nitrate, as then the paper would produce flat prints. It is then hung up to dry as before. Immediately before use it must be fumed with ammonia, in order that the prints may be "plucky," and free from that peculiar speckiness of surface which is known to the silver printer as "measles." We can readily trace the "measles" to their source. Suppose all free silver nitrate is washed away, and the paper be then exposed to light, the chloride is rapidly converted into subchloride, and chlorine is given off (see page 5); if there be nothing to absorb it at once it will attack the albuminate, which is blackened at the same time, and fresh chloride will be formed in little minute spots. These discolour, and are of different tint to the rest of the print, and give rise to the appearance of measles. This, of course, is not so marked when a little free silver nitrate is left in the paper; but as what is removed is principally removed from the surface, it may still be unpleasantly discernible. Fuming obviates it entirely if properly performed, for chlorine and ammonia combine to form finally ammonium chloride, a neutral and inactive salt. Any other chlorine absorber may be substituted; thus citric acid, potassium nitrite, and many others are effective, and cause vigorous prints to be produced. Perhaps the easiest way of giving the paper the necessary amount of ammonia is that recommended by Colonel Wortley. This is to place overnight the pads of the printing-frame, if they be of felt, into a closed box in which is placed a saucer containing a couple of drachms of liquor ammoniæ, and to withdraw them as required for the printing-frames. The pads will be thoroughly impregnated with the vapour of ammonia, and a couple or more prints, in succession, may be made before it is necessary to change them. The ordinary method of fuming is that used in America. Hearn describes a box, which is very convenient and simple in construction. He says: "Take any common wooden box, large enough for the purpose, and make a door of suitable size for it, which, when shut, will totally exclude all light. Make a false bottom in this about six inches, or so, from the real one, and perforate it with holes of about the same size that a gimlet would make. These holes should be very numerous, and at the centre there should be, if anything, a smaller number of them, because the saucer containing the liquor ammonia is generally placed at the centre of the real bottom of the box." For our own part we dislike the false bottom as constructed, and recommend one of fine gauze, and, instead of placing half-an-ounce of ammonia in the saucer as Hearn directs, we prefer to soak half-a-dozen sheets of blotting-paper in ammonium chloride solution, about 20 grains to the ounce, and the same number of sheets soaked in lime water; one sheet of each are placed together, and ammonia is liberated by double decomposition; calcium chloride being also formed. This method is excellent in hot, dry weather, since it imparts a certain amount of moisture to the paper. In damp weather it is a good plan to dry the vapour by sprinkling on the gauze calcium chloride, which will rapidly absorb the aqueous vapour, and will allow the ammonia to pass on unimpeded. The sheets of paper are held at the top of the box by American clips, suspended from laths about three inches apart, and it is not a bad plan to fasten a lath on to their bottom edge by the same means, to do away with their curling. To fume a single piece of paper it may be pinned up to the inside of the top of the lid of a box, and a drachm of ammonia sprinkled on cotton wool distributed at the bottom. The point to be attended to is that the fuming shall be even, and it is evident that the ammonia should rise equally from any part of the bottom of the box. In the plan of the box given above, the bottom of the sheet is apt to get a little more ammonia than the top. The time of fuming depends on so many things that a rule can scarcely be given for it; twenty minutes may be considered about the extreme limit. If this sensitizing bath be acid, the time must evidently be longer than when it is strictly neutral or slightly alkaline; and if the negative be hard, it will require to be less fumed than if it be of a weak nature, since the action of ammonia is to cause rapid darkening in the deep shadows. In hot weather the fuming should be shorter than in cold, since the ammonia volatilizes much more rapidly when the temperature is high. On the whole, we recommend Colonel Wortley's plan of fuming the pads in preference to fuming the paper. Another mode of preserving the paper from discolouration is to add citric acid to the printing bath, which is effective owing to the fact given at page 32. The following formula is a good one, and has answered with the writer. It is-- Silver nitrate 50 grains Citric acid 20 " Water 1 ounce The paper is floated for the ordinary length of time, when it is dried thoroughly and placed between sheets of pure blotting-paper. It will keep in its pristine state for months, if excluded from the air. It is better to fume this paper strongly before use, or the toning becomes a difficult matter. Ordinary sensitized paper may be preserved for a considerable time if, when dry, it is placed between sheets of blotting-paper saturated with a solution of carbonate of soda, and dried. Washed sensitized paper is also improved in sensitiveness by floating it for a few seconds on-- Citric acid 20 grains Potassium nitrite 10 " Water 1 ounce It can be fumed, when dried, in the usual manner. In the YEAR-BOOK OF PHOTOGRAPHY for 1880 Mr. A. Borland recommends the following modification:-- He floats the paper on nitrate of silver, as usual, and after it has drained surface dry, blots off any drops that may remain at the edges, and then floats the _back_ of the paper for about three minutes on the following bath:-- Nitrate of soda 1 ounce Distilled water 16 ounces This is rendered slightly acid by a little solution of _freshly_ prepared citric acid in water. The degree of acidity is regulated by litmus paper (the blue specimen), which should be slightly reddened by it. After this solution has been mixed about ten minutes, it is filtered, and the paper floated. Mr. Borland says the paper keeps well, and prints the same as ordinary paper, and any tone may be produced. CHAPTER VII. CUTTING PAPER. We have often come across operators who have no really definite plan on which they cut up their paper for a day's work, and they have little idea of the most economical place of dividing the sheets. The following remarks by Mr. Hearn, which appeared in the PHOTOGRAPHIC NEWS, 1874, will be useful to the printer, and, being so extremely well described, we take the liberty of reproducing them. "In cutting up the paper for printing, due regard should be given to the materials employed. In the first place, the fingers should be free from anything that will stain or soil the paper, and they should never touch the _silvered_ side, but always the _back_. The hands should be perfectly dry, free even from any perspiration, for if this is not strictly regarded in the handling of the paper, 'finger stains' will appear on those parts of the paper with which the fingers come in contact. To guard against this, a rough towel should be suspended in a convenient place, and the hands wiped upon it as often as may be found necessary--say once in every five or ten minutes. An ivory newspaper cutter, about eight inches long and an inch wide, together with a suitable sized pair of shears, will be all of the instruments necessary. "In cutting the paper for very large prints, such as 13 by 16, 14 by 18, 16 by 20, &c., the beginner had best (to obtain the right size) lay over the sensitive paper the proper sized mat that is to be placed over the print when finished, and then cut accordingly. Considerable paper can be saved in this way, and printed in card size. "There should always be an assortment of different sized mats in the printing room; one of each size will do, which should be kept expressly for this purpose. "In cutting the paper for an 11 by 14 print, the length of the sheet is generally placed before the printer, and the paper bent over to the further edge of the sheet, and then creased, and thus cut into two equal pieces, one of which can be used for the contemplated print. I would recommend that instead of taking exactly one half of the sheet of paper, as described above, to take about _an inch more_ than the half, so as to allow for any slight tear that may happen along the edges of the paper during the washing, toning, &c., and also so as to be sure of having the paper wide enough for the different sized mats. "I have seen some nice prints printed upon the exact half of a sheet of paper, which, when taken from the final washing (and the edges trimmed, being slightly torn), were then too narrow to be covered with the proper sized mats, and had to be rejected; whereas, if in cutting this paper allowance had been made for this final trimming, the prints would have been saved. The rest of the sheet can be cut very well into sixteen or eighteen carte pieces. "In cutting cabinets out of a sheet, fifteen is all that can very well be obtained, and to get that number lay the sheet on a wide table, or printing bench (with the length of it running from right to left), and divide it into three equal parts. By laying the cabinet glass on these strips of paper, and cutting the paper a little wider than the glass, five cabinets can be obtained from each strip, and fifteen out of the whole. These pieces will be plenty large enough, both in length and width; besides, this is a very convenient and economical way to cut the paper without waste. [Illustration: 22 inches +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ | | | | | | | | | | | | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ 18 inches. | | | | | | | | | | | | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ | |4-2/5| 6 | | | | |inch.| inch| | | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ _Fig._ 12.] "By a glance at the cut (fig. 12) it will be seen that the size of the pieces will be 4-2/5 by 6 inches, and consequently there will be more room for the width than there will be for the length. The edges of the width side of the paper can be trimmed a little, as there is usually some little tear, or some other defect, that can thus advantageously be got rid of. Often, when there are only a few cabinets to be printed, I take a quarter-sheet, and bend over the length of it to about three-quarters of an inch of the opposite side, crease it, and then cut with the paper-knife. You thus obtain a large and small piece; the smaller one of these can be cut into four cards, and the larger one can be cut in two, and thus obtain two generous size cabinets; or the printer can use the larger of the two pieces for printing the 4 by 4 size. This is the way I obtain my 4 by 4 pieces when I wish them. "The beginner must remember that in bending over the _length_ of a sheet of paper 18 by 22 inches in size, the divided paper will be 11 by 18 inches in size, which is termed, in the language of the printing room, half-sheet. "To obtain the quarter-sheet, the _length of the half-sheet_ is cut equally in two pieces, and then the size will be 9 by 11 inches. "A glance at fig. 13 will show that either a generous size 4 by 4, or a couple of nice cabinet pieces, together with four cartes, can be easily obtained from a quarter-sheet. "To obtain thirty-two cartes, quarter the sheet, and divide each quarter into eight equal pieces. [Illustration: 9 inches. +-----+------+ | | 4×4 | |Cab. | | | | Cab. | +-----+------+ 11 inches. | | | | 1 | 2 | +-----+------+ | | | | 3 | 4 | +-----+------+ _Fig._ 13.] [Illustration: 9 inches. +-----+-----+-----+ | | | | | | 3×3 | | +-----+-----+-----+ 11 inches. | | | | | | | | +-----+-----+-----+ | 3×9 inches, | | Stereoscope. | +-----+-----+-----+ _Fig._ 14.] "To obtain thirty-six pieces out of a sheet, it is necessary, for convenience, to first quarter it, and then divide it into three equal strips (fig. 14) taken from the _length_ of the paper. The pieces, as thus cut, will measure 3-2/3 by 9 inches, which will answer admirably for the stereoscopic size. Each one of these strips of paper can be cut into three good sized cartes, making nine out of a quarter, and thirty-six out of a whole sheet. "Forty-two cartes can be obtained very neatly by laying the sheet before you (fig. 4), and dividing the length into seven equal parts; when done, each strip should measure 3-1/7 by 18 inches in size. The whole number of pieces will be forty-two. It will be seen that the size of the carte pieces (3 by 3-1/7 inches) only allows very little room for waste paper in trimming after printing, and thus it will be found necessary to exercise some care in placing these pieces on the negative for printing. [Illustration: 18 inches. +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ 22 inches. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ _Fig._ 15.] "To obtain the forty-two carte pieces from the sheet without waste, great care is required in sensitizing the paper to prevent tearing, and also to prevent silver from getting on the back of it; in cutting it either the shears or the paper-knife should be used with care. _Do not tear the paper with the hands_, as is very often done, especially when the printer is in a hurry. "In making out the above, I have considered the sheet of paper to be 18 by 22 inches in size, but it is seldom that the sheet measures _exactly_ this, for the _length_ often measures from one quarter to one inch more, but never less, while the width is invariably the same. When this is the case, a little better margin is allowed in cutting the sheet up, which is a good thing, especially when a large number of small pieces are to be obtained from the sheet. Forty-two pieces is all that should be obtained from a sheet of paper which measures 18 by 22 (or 18 by 22-1/2, &c.) inches, because the pieces of paper are now as small as they should be with safe results to the prints, on account of bad edges, &c., which it is often necessary to trim after printing. There is a way to obtain forty-eight, and even fifty-two pieces of paper from the sheet, but I would not advise any of my readers to try to obtain that quantity, as there are many disadvantages connected with it that more than neutralize the benefits. The paper is sometimes cut up to the _exact carte size_, and then printed up as it is, thus saving the trimming of the prints after printing. This is, perhaps (?), a good way, but for the beginner it is very risky, because the paper will have to be placed _exactly on the negative_, or else the print will be worthless. Even to the experienced printer this is very difficult, because the greatest care and skill are required to do it _as it should be done_; then the _inexperienced_ printer could not hope to do it successfully." CHAPTER VIII. PRINTING-FRAMES. [Illustration: _Fig._ 16.] There are a variety of printing-frames in the market, each of which may have something to recommend it; and yet, as a rule, the simpler and more uniform the frames are, the more handy are they for the printer, since he rapidly becomes accustomed to handling them, and knows their peculiarities. The simplest pattern is one introduced by Meagher, as shown in fig. 16. The negative rests on india-rubber strips which line a framework of its exact size, and a folding back, as shown, covers it. The paper is pressed on to the negative by a pad, and the back on that by means of two brass springs. This is a very excellent pattern for cabinet pictures and cartes, but we can scarcely recommend it for anything larger, since even if it were possible to supply sufficient pressure to secure proper contact of the paper, the negative would be in danger of being cracked. [Illustration: _Fig._ 17.] For all sizes above cabinet, the printing frame as given in the figure is the best. The construction will be seen at once. In the front part of the frame is a piece of thick plate glass (depending for its thickness on the size of the frame). On this the negative rests, and over this again are the necessary pads and backboard, which is clamped down by means of two cross-bars, on which springs are fixed. An increase of pressure may be given by increasing the thickness of the pad (which may consist of smooth felt) next the negative, or by sheets of thick blotting-paper quite free from all folding marks. Sometimes the back of the frame is hinged in three pieces,[18] and this is almost essential for large prints (say 2 feet by 1 foot 6 inches), since every part of the picture should be capable of examination during the progress in printing. With a simple single hinged backboard this is impossible. [Illustration: _Fig._ 14.] [Illustration: _Fig._ 15.] When large negatives are to be printed, the plate glass front should always have at least an inch clear all round. For smaller negatives (say 12 by 10 and under) half-an-inch clear is sufficient. This allows a certain latitude in the position of the negative, and enables the fingers to get at the paper without inconvenience. In the frames in which the front of the negative is unsupported this cannot be the case, and for this reason (as well as those given above) they are not recommended for large prints. CHAPTER IX. PREPARING A LANDSCAPE NEGATIVE FOR PRINTING. Landscape negatives are rarely ever in perfect harmony for printing, and much may be done by judicious doctoring of the best of negatives to secure the best of prints. With moderate negatives it is absolutely essential that they should be improved. Let us take the example of a hard landscape negative, which if printed so that the deep shades should show detail, would show none in the high lights. A piece of thin tissue paper (the kind known as _papier minerale_ is the best), of the size of the negative, is damped evenly with a sponge, and carefully pasted on the back of the negative. The negative is then held up to the light, and the high lights carefully traced with a faint line by means of a pencil. These are then cut out by means of a sharp penknife, and a trial print taken in the shade. If it be found that the shadows still print too deeply when the detail in the high light is visible, another thickness of tissue paper may be applied, cutting out this time, perhaps, the high lights and the half tones. Another trial print will show whether the object is attained. If still not satisfactory, crayon in powder from the scrapings of a stick of crayon, or blacklead, may be applied by a stump to the parts requiring it. It may happen that the effects of the tissue paper may be seen in the print by the light penetrating beneath it, and causing the edges of the shadows to print too dark. In this case, which may arise from the negative being taken on a thin glass plate, the parts covering the high lights, and which were cut out, should be indented with a jagged edge such as this, the dotted line showing where the cut would come if it had been cut out in a clean sharp line. Another mode which we have sometimes found successful, though care is required in employing it, is to coat the back of the plate with a very dilute emulsion of a quarter the ordinary consistency, then to expose it, through the negative, and develop with one of the ordinary alkaline developers (we prefer the ferrous oxalate),[19] and then fix. This last film may be protected with a layer of albumen 1 part of albumen to 25 parts of water. By this means the shadows become subdued and the contrasts diminished, and there is no danger of any sharp demarcations in the shades being apparent. [Illustration: _Fig._ 16.] There is one way of improving a hard negative, if taken on a gelatine plate, which would probably be dangerous in the hands of a novice, but which is most effective when used with skill and judgment, but must be applied before the plate is varnished. One of the most popular methods of reducing the density of an over-intensified gelatine negative is with a very weak solution of perchloride of iron. The writers have found that the reducing agent may be applied locally. Let us suppose the case of a figure in a landscape in a light dress, which produces a white patch in the print. The negative should be placed in a dish of water, then lifted up until the part to be reduced is just above the level of the water; a solution of perchloride of iron should then be applied to the part with a camel's-hair pencil, care being taken that it does not spread over the edges or run down the negative. When this is found to be taking place, the plate should be allowed to fall into the water; it can then be lifted again, and the operation proceeded with. It is not easy to give any strength for the solution of perchloride of iron, but it is best to begin weak, and strengthen as required. A saturated solution has been used in an obstinate case without any mischief being done, but this required very careful watching. For landscapes, Mr. England has successfully used a strong solution of cyanide of potassium with the same object. He moistens the parts of the gelatine plates which require reduction with water applied by a paint-brush, and afterwards, with another, applies the cyanide. The reduction can be watched as it progresses, and by a judicious use of the brush no sharp line of demarcation between the reduced and unaltered parts is visible. With a thin negative the tissue paper may be applied as before, only in this case the shadows are left bare, the half tones have one thickness of tissue paper over them, the highest lights two or three. An emulsion may be used in this case as well, only instead of fixing the transparency which is at the back, the precipitated silver is dissolved away by nitric acid, and the developer applied again. By this means, the density in the high lights may be doubled if required. It must again be repeated, that in all cases the use of emulsion requires great care, seeing that if any get on the varnished surface, markings are sure to occur. It sometimes happens, especially with gelatine plates, that the corners of one side of a negative print too dark. This is very visible in sky and sea pictures. The careful application of blacklead on the tissue paper on the back of the plate may often save a beautiful negative that would be otherwise useless. In most landscape negatives there is a want of atmosphere (by which we mean the haze always present in the air) in the distance and middle distances, and we have found that by applying one piece of tissue-paper to the back of the negative to cover the middle distance and distances, and another to cover the distance alone, atmospheric effect is produced. The effect of atmosphere is usually shown by grey tones as compared with those of the foreground, and the greyer they are the more distant should the objects be away in nature. This effect is accomplished by the tissue-paper. It must, however, be remembered that the lights of distant objects are greyer than those of the foreground, hence the tissue paper must be used with judgment to prevent the distant lights from appearing too white. This sometimes is effected by giving _the lights in the foreground_ a covering of tissue paper. We very much doubt if there exists any landscape negative which would not be improved by the use of tissue paper, since photography often tends to do away with atmosphere. We have, in some cases, strengthened the high lights on the film side with the paint-brush and Prussian blue. This requires skill, and should be done very sparingly. It may be objected that when these artifices are resorted to, that the photograph must of necessity fail in regard to truthfulness. The answer to this objection is quite easy to give. If a photograph were true in itself, they should never be resorted to, but since it always falls short of the truth, it is quite legitimate to give it the effect that a perfect process would do, by which we mean one in which the intensity of the negative is exactly proportional to the intensity of the light producing it. It has been shown in the PHOTOGRAPHIC NEWS of 1877, that the gradations of a negative are never perfect, and the use of the tissue paper, &c., makes it more nearly in accord with nature. These remarks, of course, have reference only to what we might call "a good printing negative;" the advisability of doctoring poor negatives is scarcely open to argument. Improve as much as you like, but be very careful not to overdo it. CHAPTER X. PRINTING THE LANDSCAPE PICTURE. A trial print from a negative should first of all be taken, to enable the operator to gauge as to how much is required to be done to it. A piece of sensitized paper of the exact size of the plate is taken and examined by transmitted light in the dark room. If there be any appearance of markings due to bubbles, or of star-like metallic spots, probably due to small particles of iron being in the albumen, it need not be rejected altogether. Should there be any of these defects, the sheet should be placed on one side to cut up into smaller sizes. We will suppose that we are going to print a 15 by 12 negative. A strong frame (of the description given at page 44) must be employed, and the thick plate glass carefully freed from all dust, grit, or stains. The back of the negative is then placed in contact with it, so as to occupy the centre of the frame. The piece of sensitive paper is placed over it, and the back placed loosely over it, and is then carried face downward into the place where the printing is to be done, and the frame is placed face downwards on the floor, and left for a few minutes. By this artifice the paper takes the same degree of humidity as the atmosphere, and there will be no danger of any cockling, and consequent (as it is termed) want of contact, between the paper and the negative. This is only necessary when there is any very great difference in the temperature of the drying room and the place where the prints are to be exposed, and in some establishments the difficulty is met by carrying the whole supply of paper in a closed box into the latter place, and allowing it to absorb any moisture that it can take up. In any case, the paper is next to be placed in absolute contact with the negative, and we strongly recommend the use of sheets of blotting-paper cut to the proper size (about four thicknesses will be sufficient), and backed by a thick pad of closely woven and very smooth felt. These latter are rather expensive, but are very durable if ordinary care be taken of them. The blotting-paper is useful in causing contact, and also because any accidental presence of silver nitrate solution on the back of the sensitive paper is immediately detected, and there is, consequently, no danger of carrying it to another print and spoiling it, which it might do were it absorbed by the felt pad. The back of the frame is then placed _in situ_, and the hinged cross-piece brought down and secured by the fasteners. If the springs be sufficiently strong, the film of the negative should now be in absolute contact with the sensitive paper. If there be any grit on the plate glass, or adhering to the back of the negative, it is highly probable that the glass plate will crack, and if the plate on which the negative is taken be very curved,[20] the same disaster may be expected. Suppose the day to be bright, and the negative fairly dense, the frame may be placed for the trial print facing away from the sun (if there be any) so that it receives merely skylight, and no direct rays. When the transparent parts of the negative seem to have taken a fairly black or brown colour, the print should be examined. In practice we have found (supposing the printing room be away from the dark room) that a cloth of thin yellow calico is a useful adjunct during the examination. The cloth is large enough to cover the frame and also the head of the operator. One half of the back is loosened and raised, the half pieces are pulled back, and the paper will probably be found adhering to the negative, and may require a little manoeuvring to separate it. A very thin slip (of the size of a toothpick) of soft wood, sharpened at one end, is a good implement to employ, as by inserting it the paper can be separated at one corner, and then be raised by the fingers. We have seen some printers blow against the paper, as if they were separating the leaves of a book from one another, but this method is to be deprecated, since particles of saliva are apt to be carried on to the paper with the breath, and to cause spots, which often appear unaccountable. Should the print appear slightly deeper than it is required to remain, it is probably ready to be withdrawn from the action of light, but the remaining half of the paper must next be examined to see whether such is the case. To do this the first half of the pressure-board of the frame which is loose must be pressed down once more into position, the frame reversed end for end, and the other half of the board opened. If the print is large (say 15 by 12) it is not advisable to look at much of it at once, or for a longer time than can be avoided. It constantly happens that on a warm day the paper contracts during the short time necessary for a proper examination of the print; the consequence is, that the paper does not fall on the same place on the negative when reflected, and the result is a double print on the paper. The printing being judged to be complete, the paper is withdrawn by taking off pressure-board and pads, and put away for the further operations of toning and fixing. In one establishment we are acquainted with, the prints when taken from the frame are placed in a box the lid of which is pierced by a hole covered with a dark cloth; whilst others keep them in a press of blotting-paper. The great point to attend to, however, is to keep them away from all actinic light; and we should say, further, from all light, since darkened silver chloride becomes oxidized in light which is usually considered to be non-actinic. No doubt every printer is aware that the prints produced from the same negative and on the same sample of albumenised paper similarly sensitized vary considerably in richness and depth on different days. For instance, when the light is bad, and when, consequently, the printing takes a long time, the colour of the darkened surface will be found to be much duller than on a day when the light is powerful. Silver albuminate is much less sensitive to feeble light, whilst in bright light the difference in sensitiveness is not nearly so marked, and this may account in a certain degree for the difference; but if any one takes the trouble to expose sensitised albumenized paper to bright light so as to darken, and then to cover up half, leaving the other half to be exposed to the light coming through ruby-glass, it will be found that there is a difference in colour between the two portions, and on toning the differences will be still more marked. In dull weather the red and yellow rays bear a greater proportion to the blue and violet rays (all of which enter into the composition of white light) than they do on a bright day. It is the blue and violet rays that reduce the silver chloride to the state of sub-chloride, and then oxidize the latter; yet it must be remembered that the red and yellow also oxidize the sub-chloride without being able primarily to produce it. Hence on a bright day, when the printing is quick, the red and yellow rays have but little time to do any work, whilst on a dull day they have plenty of opportunity of oxidizing the sub-chloride as fast as it is formed. The oxidized image is always more difficult to tone than one which is unoxidized, hence the advantage of printing in a good light if possible. The writers believe that one of the principal causes of the variation in tone of silver prints, which is only too often to be seen, is caused by this difference in length of exposure to the light. The operator must now be supposed to be cognizant of the operations of toning and fixing which are to be described in subsequent chapters, and that he has the finished trial print of the particular landscape negative before him. He sees whether the middle distance or far distance is obtrusive, and notes which portions require to be softened down by tissue paper, or to be brought nearer by strengthening the high-lights, and eventually forms a picture of it as it should be, centring his imagination in it as built up round the point of principal interest. He endeavours to see whether the sweeps of light and shade lead up to this principal object in the view, and whether, if light, it is in contrast with an immediate dark part of the picture, or _vice versa_. Knowing that this is one of the laws of art, he next should endeavour practically to give effect to his imaginative picture by the judicious manipulation of tissue paper, the crayon, and the paint, such as described in Chapter IX. The next point to attend to is as to whether the picture requires clouds or not, and if he have a stock of cloud negatives of the right size, he must endeavour to pick out one, a portion of which will compose well with the lines of the picture,[21] and at the same time be correct as regards light and shade. When such a negative is selected, it remains to print it in. A white sky is an abomination, and a plain tinted one without gradation is nearly as bad. If, therefore, the operator has the heart and means to do this double printing, he should never neglect to do it. But we would here remind him that when a sky-negative has been used with a particular view, it should always be devoted to that landscape. Nothing could be in worse taste, or further from nature, than to use the same sky with different landscapes. We once saw a frame of sixteen views, thirteen of which were backed with the same sky; this was bad enough, but the absurdity went further, and in the same exhibition were landscapes by another photographer with the same sky! The inference is that both these photographers bought their sky negatives, printed them, and exhibited them as their own--a proceeding to which a harsh name might be given. To use a cloud negative properly, the reader should consult the chapter on "Combination Printing." There is another artifice, however, that does away with the blank sky. It is practised by some of the leading photographers in England, and may be put in requisition instead of the more elaborate double printing. In order to do this, a not quite opaque sky--that is, one which "prints in" a little--is necessary. Very effective clouds may be produced by a paint-brush and lamp-black, Indian ink, or gamboge, by painting them artistically _at the back of the negative_. It matters not if the clouds so formed show sharp lines and dots, since, if the printing be done in diffused light, the thickness of the glass plate on which the negative is taken shades these off, and gives them the soft edges which are natural to clouds. The clouds may take any of the usual shapes as seen in nature, and the paint should not be applied too strongly, but should have a certain amount of transparency. In some negatives we have seen taken on dry plates, the sky was very transparent, and, when printed in the ordinary manner, showed a good deal more than perceptible tint. Yet, by a judicious masking, fleecy clouds floating in a light sky were produced, which deceived the greatest connoisseurs in such matters. We will now describe how such a negative should be prepared for printing. Black varnish should be carefully run round the sky-line on the face of the negative, for about a quarter of an inch. On the back of the negative the medium should cover the sky to within one-eighth of an inch of the sky-line, and by this means a sharp but _slightly softened edge_ of the distant landscape was projected. The breadth of the black varnish border on the back was slightly greater than that on the film side of the negative, being about an inch. A piece of cardboard was also roughly cut out to the sky-line, and left sufficiently broad so as to more than cover the sky when laid flat on it. The negative with the clouds painted on it was now placed in the pressure-frame, with the sensitive paper in contact with it. Outside the frame, and corresponding with the sky-line, the edge of the cardboard was placed, a small bar to act as a weight was placed across it as shown in the figure, and the top end supported by a couple of wooden pegs. The printing took place in diffused light. When the picture was withdrawn from the frame, the sky, being shaded gradually by the card, was printed in lightly, whilst the remaining portion of the negative received the full light; the sky, as is right it should be, was darker near the zenith than toward the horizon, where it was, in fact, white; but since the clouds were printed in at the top, the baldness of the white sky was avoided. [Illustration: _Fig._ 20.] Excellent clouds may also be produced by the stump and crayon on tissue paper, many of the effects of delicate clouds being capable of being produced in this manner. A certain amount of skill is required in producing them, but nothing beyond that which a little practice can give. We may add that, instead of using this cardboard shade, some printers prefer first to entirely mask the sky and print in the landscape, than to mask the landscape, and to use a movable screen over the negative, drawing it backwards and forwards during exposure, taking the precaution that the top of the sky receives the most exposure. The method of using the cloud negative, we have already said, will be found in the chapter on "Combination Printing." Above all things, the printer must bear in mind that if there be any _distance_ in the picture, the sky, when it meets the margin, must be only very delicately tinted. Let it be remembered that a picture is often spoilt by printing in clouds too heavily. The clouds for an effect should be most delicate, with no heavy massive shadows which overwhelm those of the landscape itself. We are only talking of the ordinary landscape when the effect of storms is not desired. It is not within the scope of this work to show how a landscape and a sky negative may be printed into one plate to form a transparency from which a new negative may be made; suffice it to say that, by using collodio-chloride, or by the use of a slow dry plate and exposing to candle light, the former may be produced in almost the same way that the print is produced, and a negative may then be produced in the camera or by a dry plate. CHAPTER XI. PREPARING THE PORTRAIT NEGATIVE. So much has been written on the subject of what is called "retouching" the negative, that it would be a waste of space to enter very fully into details here. It is now generally admitted that working on the negative is not only legitimate, but that it is absolutely necessary, if a presentable portrait is to be printed. The only question is, where to stop. Professional retouchers, in too many cases, do too much, and by doing so they "overstep the modesty of nature," and turn the lovely delicacy, softness, and texture of living nature into the appearance of hard and cold marble statuary. Everything that is necessary to do to a portrait negative is very simple; it should be corrected, not remodelled. Freckles and accidental spots should be stopped out, high lights may be strengthened, and shadows softened. We may here briefly indicate the technical methods of performing these operations. Some operators pour a solution of gum over the negative after fixing, and when it is dry work upon the surface of the gum; but it is better and safer to retouch the negative after it has been varnished. The varnish must be allowed to become thoroughly hard before any working upon it is attempted. A negative varnished at night should be ready to be retouched the next morning. If very little has to be done to the negative, it may be done at once without preparation; but it is often advisable to prepare the surface of the varnish to take the lead pencil, with which the greater part of the work is done. This is done with "retouching medium." Several preparations under this or similar names are sold by stock dealers, all of them giving, as far as we have tried them, equally good results. If the photographer prefers to make his own medium, he may do so by diluting mastic, or any similar varnish, such as copal, with turpentine. Apply the medium to the parts that it is intended to work on with the finger, and allow to dry, which it does in a few minutes. Place the negative on a retouching desk, and commence to fill up with the point of the pencil all spots that are not required, such as freckles or uneven marks. Some operators begin at the top of a face and work evenly downwards. This is a bad plan, and usually results in a mechanical flattening of the face; it is better to fill in here and there as necessity appears to arise. The high lights may now be strengthened, taking care not to make them violent or spotty. The shadows of the face will be found to require softening, but the general shape of the shadows must not be altered, and in modifying lines--such as the lines in the forehead and under the eye--take care not to remove them altogether. An old man without wrinkles is an unnatural and ghastly object--the "marble brow" of the poet should be left to literature. The best pencils to use are Faber's Siberian lead, the hard ones in preference. HH and HHH are the sorts usually employed. The pencils must be kept very finely pointed. To ensure this, a piece of wood covered with glass cloth should be kept always at hand on which to grind the leads to a point. Sometimes there are portions of a negative that require more filling up than can be done with a pencil; in this case water-colour must be employed. Indigo or Prussian blue is, perhaps, best for the purpose, because these pigments allow a more appreciable or visible quantity to be laid on without becoming opaque than any of the warm colours. Sometimes parts--such as the arm of a child--will print too dark when in contrast with a white dress; in this case it will be necessary to paint over the part on the back of the negative, or to cut out a piece of _papier minerale_ to the shape, and paste it over the dark part, also on the glass side of the negative. CHAPTER XII. VIGNETTING Of the many varieties of small portraiture, the vignette is, perhaps, the most popular, and, when well done, is certainly the most refined and delicate. Two things are to be especially avoided in vignetting. The form of the vignette should not follow the form of the figure closely, as it is too often made to do, and dark backgrounds should not be employed. The qualities to endeavour to attain are softness of gradation, and an arrangement of the forms of the vignette that shall throw out the head and figure, and the resulting print should somewhat resemble a sketch, finished if you like, but sketchy in effect. Although the background should be light, it ought not to be white, but of a tint that would just throw up the white of a lady's head-dress. If the background screen could be painted so that a little shade should appear over the shoulders of a sitter for a head, or rather darker behind the lower part of a three-quarter figure, so much the better would be the effect. It would be difficult to find a case where gradation could not be of advantage in a background; however slight, it conduces especially to relief. Having stated what should be aimed at in vignettes, we now come to the technical methods of producing them. In many cases vignetting is considered to be a merely mechanical operation, and very often looks like it. Perhaps the trade have more to answer for than the printer, since the qualities of the wares advertised for the use of the vignetter are often exaggerated to such a degree that they are supposed to be suitable to any pictures. Vignette glasses are not so common as they used to be, but they certainly are useful in some instances; we almost think that the methods of producing vignetting apparatus which will be described shortly, superior to them. In case the printer should wish, however, to use these glasses, here is a method by which he may produce them. Have a piece of orange glass, flashed on one side only, rather larger than the size of the picture to be vignetted. Take a rough print, and trace round, in the proper position on the glass with an ink line, the point to which the picture should extend. This should be marked on the unflashed surface of the glass--that is, the surface on which the glass is uncoloured. Place the plate so marked on a white surface, flashed side uppermost, and make a solution of hydrofluoric acid and water, 1 part of the former to 3 of the latter, in a gutta-percha dish or bottle.[22] Make a pad of flannel and cotton wool at the end of a stick, about the size of a large nut, and drop this into the solution. Dab this on the coloured surface of the glass in the central portions where the print is to be completely printed in, gradually working out to the inked line. Always work from the centre to the edges, and dilute the acid with a little water as it approaches the margins. By degrees the flashing will be dissolved away in the centre, and, if properly performed, the colour will gradually be eaten away, till the glass is colourless in the centre, and keeping its full shade of orange at the ink lines. The glass is then washed, and is ready for use. The most popular plan of vignetting is with cotton-wool. We believe that the greater part of the vignetting done in England is by this clumsy, costly, and difficult method. It requires more time and attention than any other way of producing the same results. Its advantages are, that it is more "elastic," and allows the operator more scope for attention than other methods. In the hands of a person who has very great skill, taste, and patience, it is undoubtedly most useful; but when used by anything lower than the highest skill, the results are almost always hard and inartistic. The operation is thus performed. A hole is cut in a piece of cardboard, which is placed over the negative. Under the edges of the cardboard is placed cotton-wool, which is lightly pulled out, so as to slightly shade the vignette, and produce the vignetting gradation. The next methods of vignetting are dependent on simple laws of optics. Suppose you cut a round hole in a card, say, half-inch in diameter, and so arrange it that all the light getting to a sensitive paper comes through this hole, and that the card is for our experiment placed half-an-inch from the paper. Now place the hole so as to face the sky, but so as the sun has no direct rays falling through the hole. It will be found that the greatest darkening will not occupy a space exactly opposite the hole, but be _away from the side on which the light is brightest_. The dark round patch will be shaded gradually off till a line is reached where, practically, the light has no effect--that is, if the surface of the card next the paper be blackened. It will be noted, however, that the shading is not equal on both sides, but that the gradation is most extended away from the side on which the light is brightest. A good example of what is meant will be to try the experiment of placing the paper and card flat on the ground in the angle between two walls, both of which are in shadow. It will be seen that the brightest gradation takes place in the direction exactly away from the angle of the walls. Next repeat the experiment, making the hole point to the sky, which is equally illuminated and pointing well away from the sun. It will be found that the gradations are equal, and the greatest darkening exactly opposite the hole. Raise the card next to the height of one inch, and the gradations will be found to be more extended and softer. The reason of this can be well understood by a glance at the figures. In both, suppose A B to represent the section of the card, and C D the hole in it, and the dotted circle the sky, and E F the paper. Take the points _a_, _b_, and _c_ on the paper, and let us in the three instances see what relative illumination they will receive. _a_ is opposite the hole, and receives the light from a circle of sky of which _d e_ is diameter, and _b_ from an ellipse of which _h k_ is one diameter, and _e_ from an ellipse of which _f g_ is one diameter. In the first case, where the card is 1/2 inch from the paper, _h k_ is about one-fifth of _d e_, and _g f_ about one-third of _d f_, and since the ellipses vary as their two diameters multiplied together, the point _b_ would receive only one-twenty-fifth the light that _a_ received, and _c_ about one-ninth. [Illustration: _Fig._ 21.] [Illustration: _Fig._ 22.] In fig. 21 the card is raised one inch from the paper, and here _f g_ is about three-quarters of _d e_, and _h k_ about two-fifths; therefore, in this case, the light on B would be only four-twenty-fifths, or about one-sixth of that acting on _a_, and about nine-sixteenths or one-half nearly on _c_. It is thus evident that the further away the card is, the more extended will be the gradations. Again, suppose, in the last figure, the bit of sky at _g f_ was twice as bright as at _d e_, then the amount of light acting on _c_ would be the same as that acting on _a_. It will thus be seen how important it is for proper gradation that the hole in the card should be exposed to an equally illuminated sky, or that some artifice should be employed to render the illumination equal. If we paste a bit of tissue paper over C D, this is accomplished, for then it becomes the source of illumination, and it is illuminated equally all over, since on every part it receives the light of the whole sky; but this is not the case if it is transparent to diffused light, and is never the case if it is exposed to direct sunlight, since a shadow of the hole is always cast on the paper beneath. If you choose to put another piece of tissue paper, (say) one inch above the hole, and extending over the whole length of the card, this difficulty is got rid of, and this last piece of tissue paper illuminates that pasted over the hole C D, and the gradations will then be nearly perfect. Now to apply the above to forming a vignetting block. Suppose we have a one-inch head to vignette and to show the shoulders and chest, to be of the size of a carte-de-visite, that the background is about a half-tone between black and white, and that but a trace of it shall appear above the head. To make a good vignette, the graduation from black to perfect white should lie within a limit of half an inch for a carte size portrait. The question then arises at what distance from the plate should a vignetting card be cut to help this object, and what shape should be made the hole in the card. We take it that one-fifth of the light necessary to produce a full black tone would hardly produce any effect on the sensitised paper; knowing this and the size of the aperture, we can calculate exactly what height the card could be raised. Take the breadth between the shoulders that is to be fully printed as 1-1/2 inches, then by constructing a figure similar to figures 18 or 19 we shall find that the necessary height is about one-third of an inch.[23] [Illustration: _Fig._ 23.] By judiciously cutting out an aperture in the card and vignetting, defects in a background may often be entirely eliminated from the print. Proceed in this way: Take a print of the portrait, and cut out the figure in such a way as to get rid of the defective background, and then place this on a piece of thick card (we prefer a thick card, since it will not sag easily, and thus alter the gradation), and cut out an aperture corresponding to it. The outsides of most carte-de-visite frames are raised from the glass about one-third of an inch; place the card on the front so that the aperture corresponds to the figure on the negative, and tack it on to the frame. The dotted lines (fig. 23) show the card fastened on to the frame, and the opening left. This latter may be covered with tissue paper, and the frame placed in diffused light from the sky. In some cases it may be necessary to use a larger printing frame than the ordinary carte frame, in which case the operator should be able to make a vignetting apparatus raised at a proper height from the glass. Suppose it is required to raise the opening half an inch above the glass, and that the card is 4-1/4 by 3-1/2. [Illustration: _Fig._ 24.] Take the card and rule rectangles as shown (fig. 24), the inner one being 4-1/4 by 3-1/2 inches, the next one 1/2 an inch outside that, and the third 1/2 an inch outside that again. Cut out the outer rectangle entirely, so that we have a piece of card of the size ABCD. Take a needle point, and prick through the card at the points EFGH and join these points at the back of the card by lines. Now take a sharp penknife, and, having laid a flat edge along, cut the card half through its thickness along KL, LM, MN, and NK. Turn the card over, and cut along the lines corresponding to EH, HG, GE, and FE, also half way through the thickness of the card. Turn the card over once more, and cut out the shaded pieces at the corners. Now bend the card along the cuts, and a raised block will result of this shape. The corners are held together by pieces of gummed or albumenized paper, and the block is ready for an aperture to be cut in it according to the portrait to be printed. Wooden grooves may be glued along the top of the vignetting frame, into which cards containing other apertures can be slipped.[24] [Illustration: _Fig._ 25.] The most practical method of vignetting, a modification of the above, and the one we always prefer in our own practice, is as follows:-- [Illustration: _Fig._ 26.] Take a piece of soft wood, half an inch thick for a cabinet size--a thinner piece should be selected for a smaller picture--of a larger dimension than the negative; in the centre of this cut a hole of the shape of, but much smaller than, the desired vignette. One side of the hole should be very much bevelled away, as represented in this section (fig. 26). Place this block on the glass of the printing-frame, bevelled side under, the hole being exactly over the part of the negative from which the vignette is to be printed. The hole must now be covered with tissue paper or ground glass, and the frame placed flat on a table to print. The size of the hole in relation to the size of the vignette will be easily ascertained by a little experience without the labour of elaborate calculations. On dull days the tissue paper or ground glass may be omitted. This method is very simple and effective. A quantity of vignetting blocks of various sizes and shapes could be made by a carpenter, or by the printer, and should be always at hand. A vignetting block should never be less than a quarter of an inch away from the glass, otherwise the gradations will be too abrupt. CHAPTER XIII. ARTISTIC METHODS OF PRINTING THE PORTRAIT. Having described in the last chapter the various mechanical arrangements by which a simple vignette is produced, we will now proceed to give some account of how that and other forms of printing can be turned to the most artistic account in portraiture. The idea that printing is a mere mechanical operation was exploded long ago. It is now recognized that the final result owes a good deal of its artistic effect to the way in which the negative is dealt with after it is varnished, and especially to its treatment by the printer. There are many varieties of vignettes, and the method is useful in various ways. _Plain Vignettes._--The usual vignetted portrait is that which represents a good-sized head and shoulders in the space allotted to the picture. For a carte-de-visite, a head measuring about 1-1/4 inches from the top of the head to the chin is a good proportion. Larger sizes are often made, but they look coarse and vulgar, as if the photographer had tried how much quantity he could give for the money, regardless of quality; and even if the quality is good, the vulgar effect is still there. For a cabinet size a head of 1-3/4 or 1-7/8 inches is quite large enough. A very pretty style is that in which the gradation is carried out so gradually as only to end with the edge of the paper. _Three-quarter Length Vignettes._--A three-quarter length figure of a lady, either standing or sitting, makes a pretty picture; for gentlemen, a three-quarter vignette is not so good, although it is admissible. It is difficult to make the legs look anything but awkward when they are vignetted into empty space at the knee. For three-quarter vignettes a light, sketchy landscape background may be used with effect. There are many varieties of what may be called "fancy printing," in which the vignette takes a conspicuous part. The first style that we will consider is that of _Vignettes on a Tinted Ground._--Print a vignette in the usual way. Take it out of the frame, and place it on a board covered with velvet or flannel, to prevent the paper shifting. Cover the print with glass, and place over the printed part a piece of black paper roughly torn to the shape, and rather smaller than the vignette. Place the whole in the light until the white margin is slightly tinted, or "blushed," as it is sometimes called. The edges of the black mask should be slightly turned up or kept moving to prevent the junction of the tinting and the vignette being visible. The above method represents a vignetted head on smooth grey paper, and is useful to show up the high lights on the face; but there is a modification of this effect, in which the appearance of a sketch on rough drawing-paper is produced. _Vignettes on Rough Drawing-paper._--If, instead of placing a piece of plain glass over the masked print, a thin negative of some diaper or pattern had been used, the design could have been printed on the paper instead of the even tint. A very good negative for this purpose is made as follows:--Obtain a sheet of the roughest drawing-paper, take a camel-hair brush dipped in thin sepia, and brush it evenly over the paper; the colour will fall into the depressions of the paper, and make the roughness still more visible. This should now be placed where a side light falls upon it, and photographed. A very thin negative is all that is required. This negative should be used in place of the plain glass, and, if not printed too dark, the effect of the delicate vignette inside the rough tint is very pleasing. It is better when using negatives for this purpose to place them in pressure-frames, instead of merely placing them or the print on the velvet board, to print, or perfect contact may not be obtained. _Medallions._--Medallions of oval and other forms are now a good deal used for small portraits. These are simply produced by gumming a mask, made of black or yellow paper, with an oval or other-shaped aperture, on to the negative, the mask preserving the part it covers white. These masks can be bought from the dealers cheaper and better than they can be made. Eccentric shapes are, usually, in bad taste; the oval and dome are quite sufficient for all purposes. If, instead of leaving the outside of the print--that protected by the mask--white, it could be tinted, the lights in the picture would have greater value, and the effect be improved. To do this, the printed part should be covered with a black-paper disc corresponding with the mask used in printing, the print covered with glass, and exposed to the light until printed the required depth. In performing this operation it will be found convenient to gum the disc to the covering-glass. If texture could be added to this tinted margin, then another element of beauty would be added. This may be done in a similar manner to that described for vignettes, by using a negative made from rough drawing-paper; but, in this case, there is opportunity for a greater choice of objects from which to make the tinting negative, such as grained leather, marble of various kinds, paper-hangings--when suitable patterns can be obtained--and from the borders of old prints. In this, as in many other things connected with photography, there is a good deal of room for bad taste, which the photographer must try to avoid. He must remember that all these surrounding designs should assist the portrait, and not distract the attention from it. _Vignettes in Ornamental Borders._--The writer has lately produced some effects that have given much pleasure by using designs specially drawn for the purpose. The designs principally consist of an oval in the centre for the portrait, and a tablet underneath, on which the original of the portrait may sign his name. These forms are surrounded by flowers and other objects conventionally treated. The spaces for the portrait and name should be stopped out with black varnish, so as to print white. The easiest way to use these ornamental border negatives is as follows:--First print the border negative; you will then have a print with a white oval space in the centre. Place this print on the portrait negative, taking care that it occupies the proper position in the oval. This is easily ascertained by holding the print and negative up to the light. It should then be placed in the frame and printed, care being taken that the vignetted gradation does not spread beyond its limits over the border. There is a good deal of variety to be got out of the combination of the mask and vignette. Here is one of them. _Combination of Medallion and Vignette._--Vignette a head into the centre of the paper; when this is done, place over it a black paper oval disc, taking care that the head comes in the centre under the mask. Place a piece of glass over the whole, and print. When the disc is removed, the print will represent a vignette surrounded by a dark oval. Many variations may be made of this form of picture, and there is much scope for skill and taste. Any of the tinting negatives above described may be used, or they can be made from designs drawn on paper as we have already stated, or from natural objects. But if our reader has followed us clearly thus far, he is now in a position to form combinations for himself. This we recommend him to do, for there is an additional beauty in anything in art that indicates a distinctive style or shows thought and originality. There is too much tendency in portraitists to run in grooves, which the universal prevalence of the two styles, card and cabinet, help to promote. But we must caution the young photographer against the mistake of making changes for the sake of change. The "loud," and the bizarre, may attract foolish people, but it is only the beautiful that will secure the attention of the cultivated and refined. CHAPTER XIV. COMBINATION PRINTING. The scope of photography is wider than those who have only taken a simple portrait or landscape suppose. It is almost impossible to design a group that could not have been reproduced from life by the means our art places at our disposal. We do not mean to assert that such subjects as Michael Angelo's Last Judgment, or Raphael's Transfiguration, for instance, have ever been done in photography; but it is not so much the fault of the art, as of the artists, that very elaborate pictures have not been successfully attempted. It has not been the failing of the materials, unplastic as they are when compared with paint and pencils; it has been the absence of the requisite amount of skill in the photographer in the use of them, that will account for the dearth of great works in photography. The means by which these pictures could have been accomplished is Combination Printing, a method which enables the photographer to represent objects in different planes in proper focus, to keep the true atmospheric and linear relation of varying distances, and by which a picture can be divided into separate portions for execution, the parts to be afterwards printed together on one paper, thus enabling the operator to devote all his attention to a single figure or sub-group at a time, so that if any part be imperfect, from any cause, it can be substituted by another without the loss of the whole picture, as would be the case if taken at one operation. By thus devoting the attention to individual parts, independently of the others, much greater perfection can be obtained in details, such as the arrangement of draperies, the refinement of pose, and expression. The most simple form of combination printing, and the one most easy of accomplishment and most in use by photographers, is that by which a natural sky is added to a landscape. It is well-known to all photographers that it is almost impossible to obtain a good and suitable sky to a landscape under ordinary circumstances. Natural skies are occasionally seen in stereoscopic slides and very small views; but I am now writing of pictures, and not of toys. It rarely happens that a sky quite suitable to the landscape occurs in the right place at the time it is taken, and, if it did, the exposure necessary for the view would be sufficient to quite obliterate the sky; and if this difficulty were obviated by any of the sun-shades, cloud-stops, or other inefficient dodges occasionally proposed, the movement of the clouds during the few seconds necessary for the landscape would quite alter the forms and light and shade, making what should be the sky--often sharp and crisp in effect--a mere smudge, without character or form. All these difficulties are got over by combination printing, the only objections being that a little more care and trouble are required, and some thought and knowledge demanded. The latter should be considered an advantage, for photographs, of a kind, are already too easy to produce. Of course, when a landscape is taken with a blank sky, and that blank is filled up with clouds from another negative, the result will depend, to a very great degree, upon the art knowledge of the photographer in selecting a suitable sky, as well as upon his skill in overcoming the mechanical difficulties of the printing. It is not necessary here to enter into a description of the art aspect of the matter, as that has often been discussed; so we will confine ourselves to the mechanical details. The landscape negative must have a dense sky, or, if it be weak, or have any defects, it must be stopped out with black varnish. In this case, it is better to apply the varnish to the back of the glass; by this means a softer edge is produced in printing than if painted on the varnished surface. With some subjects, such as those that have a tolerably level horizon, it is sufficient to cover over part of the sky while printing, leaving that part near the horizon gradated from the horizon into white. It may here be remarked that in applying black varnish to the back of a negative, occasions will often be found where a softened or vignetted edge is required for joining, where a vignette glass or cotton wool cannot be applied; in such cases the edge of the varnish may be softened off by dabbing slightly, before it is set, with the finger, or, if a broader and more delicately gradated edge be required, a dabber made with wash-leather may be employed with great effect. [Illustration] When an impression is taken, the place where the sky ought to be will, of course, be plain white paper; a negative of clouds is then placed in the printing-frame, and the landscape is laid down on it, so arranged that the sky will print on to the white paper in its proper place; the frame is then exposed to the light, and the landscape part of the picture is covered up with a mask edged with cotton wool. The sky is vignetted into the landscape, and it will be found that the slight lapping over of the vignetted edge of the sky negative will not be noticed in the finished print. There is another way of vignetting the sky into the landscape, which is, perhaps, better and more convenient. Instead of the mask edged with cotton wool, which requires moving occasionally, a curved piece of zinc or cardboard is used. Here is a section of the arrangement. The straight line represents the sky negative, and the part where it joins the landscape is partly covered with the curved shade. Skies so treated must not, of course, be printed in sunlight. It is sometimes necessary to take a panoramic view. This is usually done, when the pantascopic camera is not employed, by mounting two prints together, so that the objects in the landscape shall coincide; but this is an awkward method of doing what could be much better accomplished by combination printing. The joining of the two prints is always disagreeably visible, and quite spoils the effect. To print the two halves of a landscape, taken on two plates, together, the following precautions must be observed: both negatives must be taken before the camera-stand is moved, the camera, which must be quite horizontal, pointing to one half of the scene for the first negative, and then turned to the remaining half of the view for the second negative. The two negatives should be obtained under exactly the same conditions of light, or they will not match; they should also be so taken that a margin of an inch and a-half or two inches is allowed to overlap each other; that is to say, about two inches of each negative must contain the same or centre portion of the scene. It is advisable, also, that they should be of the same density; but this is not of very great consequence, because any slight discrepancy in this respect can be allowed for in printing. In printing vignettes with cotton wool, or a straight-edged vignette glass, the edge of the left-hand negative on the side that is to join the other, taking care to cover up the part of the paper that will be required for the companion negative; when sufficiently printed, take the print out of the frame, and substitute the right-hand negative; lay down the print so that it exactly falls on the corresponding parts of the first part printed (this will be found less difficult, after a little practice, than it appears), and expose to the light, vignetting the edge of this negative, also, so that the vignetted part exactly falls on the softened edge of the impression already done. If great care be taken to print both plates exactly alike in depth, it will be impossible to discover the join in the finished print. If thought necessary, a sky may be added, as before described, or it may be gradated in the light, allowing the horizon to be lighter than the upper part of the sky. Perhaps the greatest use to which combination printing is now put is in the production of portraits with natural landscape backgrounds. Many beautiful pictures, chiefly cabinets and card, have been done in this way by several photographers. The easiest kind of figure for a first attempt would be a three-quarter length of a lady, because you would then get rid of the foreground, and have to confine your attention to the upper part of the figure and the distance. Pictures of this kind have a very pleasing effect. In the figure negative, everything should be stopped out, with the exception of the figure, with black varnish; this should be done on the back of the glass when practicable, which produces a softer join; but for delicate parts--such as down the face--where the joins must be very close, and do not admit of anything approaching to vignetting, the varnish must be applied on the front. A much better effect than painting out the background of the figure negative is obtained by taking the figure with a white or very light screen behind it; this plan allows sufficient light to pass through the background to give an agreeable atmospheric tint to the distant landscape; and stopping out should only be resorted to when the background is too dark, or when stains or blemishes occur, that would injure the effect. An impression must now be taken which is not to be toned or fixed. Cut out the figure, and lay it, face downwards, on the landscape negative in the position you wish it to occupy in the finished print. It may be fixed in its position by gumming the corners near the lower edge of the plate. It is now ready for printing. It is usually found most convenient to print the figure negative first. When this has been done, the print must be laid down on the landscape negative so that the figure exactly covers the place prepared for it by the cut-out mask. When printed, the picture should be carefully examined, to see if the joins may be improved or made less visible. It will be found that, in many places, the effect can be improved and the junctions made more perfect, especially when a light comes against a dark--such as a distant landscape against the dark part of a dress--by tearing away the edge of the mask covering the dark, and supplying its place by touches of black varnish at the back of the negative; this, in printing, will cause the line to be less defined, and the edges to soften into each other. If the background of the figure negative has been painted out, the sky will be represented by white paper; and as white paper skies are neither natural nor pleasing, it will be advisable to sun it down. If a full-length figure be desired, it will be necessary to photograph the ground with the figure, as it is almost impossible to make the shadow of a figure match the ground on which it stands in any other way. This may be done either out of doors or in the studio. The figure taken out of doors would, perhaps, to the critical eye, have the most natural effect, but this cannot always be done, neither can it be, in many respects, done so well. The light is more unmanageable out of doors, and the difficulty arising from the effect of wind on the dress is very serious. A slip of natural foreground is easily made up in the studio; the error to be avoided is the making too much of it. The simpler a foreground is in this case, the better will be the effect. The composition of a group should next engage the student's attention. In making a photograph of a large group, as many figures as possible should be obtained in each negative, and the position of the joins so contrived that they shall come in places where they shall be least noticed, if seen at all. It will be found convenient to make a sketch in pencil or charcoal of the composition before the photograph is commenced. The technical working out of a large group is the same as for a single figure; it is, therefore, not necessary to repeat the details; but we give a reduced copy, as a frontispiece to this volume, of a large combination picture, entitled "When the Day's Work is Done," by Mr. H. P. Robinson, a description of the progress and planning of which may be of use to the student. A small rough sketch was first made of the idea, irrespective of any considerations of the possibility of its being carried out. Other small sketches were then made, modifying the subject to suit the figures available as models, and the accessories accessible without very much going out of the way to find them. From these rough sketches a more elaborate sketch of the composition, pretty much as it stands, and of the same size, 32 by 22 inches, was made, the arrangement being divided so that the different portions may come on 23 by 18 plates, and that the junctions may come in unimportant plates, easy to join, but not easy to be detected afterwards. The separate negatives were then taken. The picture is divided as follows:-- The first negatives taken were the two of which the background is composed. The division runs down the centre, where the light wall is relieved by the dark beyond it. These two negatives were not printed separately--it is advisable to have as few printings as possible--but were carefully cut down with a diamond, and mounted on a piece of glass rather larger than the whole picture, the edges being placed in contact, making, in fact, _one_ large negative of the interior of the cottage, into which it would be comparatively easy to put almost anything. The next negative was the old man. This included the table, chair, and matting on which his feet rest. This matting is roughly vignetted into the adjoining ground of the cottage negative. The great difficulty at first with this figure was the impossibility of joining the light head to the dark background; no amount of careful registration seemed equal to effect this difficult operation; but if it could not be done, it could be evaded. Several clever people have been able to point out the join round the head, down the forehead, and along the nose, but we have never been able to see it ourselves, because we know it is not there. This is how the difficulty was got over. The figure was taken with a background that would print as nearly as possible as dark as the dark of the cottage. The join is nowhere near the head, but runs up the square back of the old woman's chair, then up the wall, and across the picture, over the head in an irregular line, and descends on the old man's back, whence it was easy to carry it down the dark edge of his dress and the chairs till it comes to the group of baskets, pails, &c., that fill up the corner. On the other side, the join runs along the edge of the table, and finds its way out where the floor coverings come together. The old lady was then photographed, and is simply joined round the edge; so also was the group in the corner, and the glimpse of the village seen through the window. At first sight, it will appear difficult to place the partly-printed pictures in the proper place on the corresponding negative. There are many ways of doing this, either of which may be chosen to suit the subject. Sometimes a needle may be run through some part of the print, the point being allowed to rest on the corresponding part of the second negative. The print will then fall in its place at that point. Some other point has then to be found at a distance from the first; this may be done by turning up the paper to any known mark on the negative, and allowing the print to fall upon it; if the two separate points fall on the right places, all the others must be correct. Another way of joining the prints from the separate negatives is by placing a candle or lamp under the glass of the printing-frame--practically, to use a glass table--and throwing a light through the negative and paper; the join can then be seen through. But the best method is to make register marks on the negatives. This is done in the following manner. We will suppose that we wish to print a figure with a landscape background from two negatives, the foreground having been taken with the figure. At the two bottom corners of the figure negative make two marks with black varnish, thus |_ _|; these, of course, will print white in the picture. A proof is now taken, and the outline of the figure cut out accurately. Where the foreground and background join, the paper may be torn across, and the edges afterwards vignetted with black varnish on the back of the negatives. This mark is now fitted in its place on the landscape negative. Another print is now taken of the figure negative, and the white corner marks cut away very accurately with a pair of scissors. The print is now carefully applied to the landscape negative, so that the mark entirely covers those parts of the print already finished. The landscape is then printed in. Before, however, it is removed from the printing-frame, if, on partial examination, the joins appear to be perfect, two lead pencil or black varnish marks are made on the mark round the cut-out corners at the bottom of the print. After the first successful proof there is no need for any measurement or fitting to get the two parts of the picture to join perfectly; all that is necessary is merely to cut out the little white marks, and fit the corners to the corresponding marks on the mask; and there is no need to look if the joins coincide at other places, because, if two points are right, it follows that all must be so. This method can be applied in a variety of ways to suit different circumstances. It is always well to have as few paintings as possible, and it frequently happens that two or more negatives can be printed together. For instance, the picture we have been discussing--"When the Day's Work is Done"--is produced from six negatives, but it only took three printings. The two negatives of which the cottage is composed was, as already explained, set up on a large sheet of glass, and printed at once; the old man was also set upon another glass of the same size, with the negative of the glimpse through the window; and the old woman was printed in like manner, with the corner group of baskets, &c. So that here were practically three negatives only. These were registered with corner marks so accurately that not a single copy has been lost through bad joins. There are one or two things to consider briefly before concluding this subject. It is true that combination printing--allowing, as it does, much greater liberty to the photographer, and much greater facilities for representing the truth of nature--also admits, from these very facts, of a wide latitude for abuse; but the photographer must accept the conditions at his own peril. If he finds that he is not sufficiently advanced in knowledge of art, and has not sufficient reverence for nature, to allow him to make use of these liberties, let him put on his fetters again, and confine himself to one plate. It is certain (and this we put in italics, to impress it more strongly on the memory) that _a photograph produced by combination printing must be deeply studied in every particular, so that no departure from the truth of nature shall be discovered by the closest scrutiny_. No two things must occur in one picture that cannot happen in nature at the same time. If a sky is added to a landscape, the light must fall on the clouds and on the earth from the same source and in the same direction. This is a matter that should not be done by judgment alone, but by judgment guided by observation of nature. Effects are often seen, especially in cloud-land, very puzzling to the calm reasoner when he sees them in a picture; but these are the effects that are often best worth preserving, and which should never be neglected, because it may possibly happen that somebody will not understand it, and, therefore, say it is false, and, arguing still further on the wrong track, will say that combination printing always produces falsehoods, and must be condemned. A short anecdote may, perhaps, be allowed here. Some time ago a photograph of a landscape and sky was sent to a gentleman whose general judgment in art was admitted to be excellent; but he knew that combination printing was sometimes employed. In acknowledging the receipt he said, "Thank you for the photograph; it is a most extraordinary effect; sensational, certainly, but very beautiful; but it shows, by what it is, what photography cannot do; your sky does not match your landscape; it must have been taken at a different time of day, at another period of the year. A photograph is nothing if not true." Now it so happened that the landscape and sky were taken at the same time, the only difference being that the sky had a shorter exposure than the landscape, which was absolutely necessary to get the clouds at all, and does not affect the result. Another instance arose in connection with a picture representing a group of figures with a landscape background. Four of the figures were taken on one plate, at one operation; yet a would-be critic wrote at some length to prove that these figures did not agree one with another; that the light fell on them from different quarters; that the perspective of each had different points of sight; and that each figure was taken from a different point of view! These two cases are mentioned to show that it is sometimes a knowledge of the means employed, rather than a knowledge of nature--a foregone conclusion that the thing must be wrong, rather than a conviction, from observation, that it is not right--that influences the judgment of those who are not strong enough to say, "This thing is right," or "This thing is wrong, no matter by what means it may have been produced." CHAPTER XV. TONING THE PRINT. If a print on albumenized paper be fixed without any intermediate process, the result is that the image is of a red, disagreeable tone, and unsightly. Moreover, it will be found that, if such a print be exposed to the atmosphere, it rapidly loses its freshness, and fades. In order to avoid this unsightliness, resort is had to toning, the toning, in reality, being the substitution of some less attackable metal for the metallic silver which forms a portion of the print. The usual metal used for substitution is gold applied in the state of the ter-chloride. It is not very easy to tell precisely how the substitution is effected; the question is, at present, sub judice, and, therefore, we propose to omit any theory that may have been broached. It is sufficient to say that it is believed the first step towards the reduction of the gold is the production of a hydrated oxide, and never metallic gold. Be that as it may, if a finely-divided silver be placed in a solution of chloride of gold, the silver becomes converted into the chloride, and the gold is quickly reduced to the metallic state; and since gold combines with more chloride than does silver, it is manifest that when the substitution takes place,[25] the metallic gold deposited must be very much less than the silver. The colouring power of gold is, however, very great, when in the fine state of division in which we have it, being an intense purple to blue colour, and a very little of this mixed visually with the ruddy or brown colour of the albuminate which has been discoloured by light gives, after fixing, a pleasing tone. A picture, when toned thus, is composed of silver subchloride, metallic gold, and an organic compound of silver. If a print be kept in the toning bath too long, we are all aware that the image becomes blue and feeble, and the same disaster happens when a toning bath is too strong, _i.e._, is too rich in gold solution. The reason of this is, that too much gold is substituted for the silver in the sub-chloride, and there is in consequence too great a colour of the finely-precipitated gold seen. To make a toning bath, the first thing is to look after the gold. There is a good deal of chloride of gold sold, which is, in reality, not chloride of gold, but a double chloride of gold and of some such other base as potassium, and if it be paid for as pure chloride of gold, it is manifest that the price will be excessive. It is best to purchase pure chloride of gold, though it may be slightly acid, since subsequent operations correct the acidity. In our own practice we get fifteen-grain tubes, and break them open, and add to each grain one drachm of water, and in this state it is convenient to measure out. Thus, for every grain of gold to be used, it is only necessary to measure out one drachm into a measure. In delicate chemical operations, this would rightly be considered a rough method; but for a practical photographer it is sufficiently precise. Now if chloride of gold alone were used, it would be found that the prints, after immersion in a dilute solution, were poor and "measley," and practice has told us that we must add something to the solution to enable it to act gradually and evenly. First of all, the gold solution must be perfectly neutral, and we know no better plan than adding to it a little powdered chalk, which at once neutralizes any free acid. It is not a matter of indifference what further retarder is added, for the reason that the more you retard the action, the more ruby-coloured becomes the gold, and less blue. A well-known experiment is to dissolve a little phosphorus in ether, and add it to a gallon of water, and then to drop in and stir about half a grain of chloride of gold. Phosphorus reduces the gold into the metallic state, but when so dilute the reduction takes place very slowly. The gold will, however, precipitate gradually, but it will be in such a fine state of division that it is a bright ruby colour. A very common addition to make to a toning bath is acetate of soda, and if the gold be in defect, the same appearance will take place in the solution. If chloride of lime, however, be added instead, and a commencement of precipitation of gold be brought about, the gold will be of a blue colour, having a slight tendency to purple. In this case, the grains of gold deposited are larger than when it is in the ruby state. The tone of the print then depends in a large measure on the degree of rapidity with which the gold is deposited. The quicker the deposit, the larger and bluer the gold, whilst an extremely slow deposition will give the red form. It often happens that no matter how long a print is immersed in a toning bath, it never takes a blue tone. The reason will be obvious from the above remarks. We now give some toning baths which are much used. No. 1.--Gold tri-chloride 1 grain Sodium carbonate 10 grains Water 10 ounces This bath must be used immediately after mixing, since the gold is precipitated by the carbonate. The tones given by this bath are purple and black. The prints should be toned to dark brown for the purple tone, and a slightly blue tone for the black tone. No. 2.--Gold tri-chloride 2 grains Saturated solution of chloride of lime 2 drops Chalk a pinch Water 16 ounces The saturated solution of chloride of lime is made by taking the common disinfecting powder, and shaking a teaspoonful up in a pint bottle. When the solids have settled, the clear liquid can be decanted off, and corked up till required. This is the solution used above. It is as well to keep this solution in the dark room. The water with this bath should be hot (boiling better still), and the bath may be used when it is thoroughly cool. It is better, however, to keep it a day before using, since, when fresh, the action is apt to be too violent, and the prints are readily over-toned. The tone with this bath is a deep sepia to black. To get the first tone a very short immersion is necessary; the prints should be almost red. For a black tone the prints should be left in the solution till they are induced to be of a purple hue. No. 3 is made as follows:-- Sodium acetate 1 drachm Gold trichloride 5 minim Distilled water 12 ounces This bath is a most excellent one in many respects, and should not be used under a week to get the best result. As this is a long time to keep a bath, it is as well to have two always on stock. It keeps indefinitely if proper care be taken of it. This produces a purple or brown tone, according to the length of time the print is immersed in it. Now, as to toning the print. After the day's printing is done, the prints should be placed in a pan of good fresh water, in order to dissolve out all or a certain amount of silver nitrate that is invariably left in them. A puncheon, such as is used in dairies, is very convenient. It should be filled with water, and the prints placed in one by one, taking care that no one sticks to its neighbour, as this would be a fruitful source of unequal toning. Most water contains a little carbonate of lime and chloride of sodium, &c.; the water will therefore become milky. When the prints have been in the first water for ten minutes, they should be removed to another vessel of water, one by one. The first wash water should be placed in a wooden tub, with a tap let into it about six inches above the base, together with a little common salt. The salt forms chloride of silver, which gradually precipitates, and the clear water is then drawn off on the next day, and the sediment is left undisturbed. [Illustration: _Fig._ 27.] It now remains to see which toning bath is to be used. If No. 1 or 3, the whole of the free silver should as far as possible be washed away, which may entail three or four changes of water; the last two washings it will hardly repay to place in the tub; the second washing should certainly be added to it. If No. 2 toning bath be used, a little free silver should remain in the print; in fact, the washing should be confined to two changes of water. When toning operations are commenced, the toning solution is poured off from any sediment that may be in the bottle containing it into a dish a couple of inches wider each way than the largest print which has to be toned. If big prints have to be toned, it is inadvisable to place more than a couple in the dish at the same time, since there is a certain awkwardness in judging of the amount of tone given to a print which is (say) between two or three. The prints should be placed face up in the solution, and great care should be taken that liquid separates each print from the next one to it, otherwise there will be patches of unequal toning. The dish containing the prints in the solution should be gently rocked to secure a proper mixture of the solution which may have been robbed of its gold in those strata next surface of the prints. The rocking is also advisable to cause any adhesion between two deep-toning prints impossible. If the prints be of small size, a dozen or more may be toned at one operation. Each print should be frequently brought to the surface of the liquid, and examined in order to see how the toning action is progressing. When one print is judged sufficiently toned, it is removed to a dish containing pure water, and another untoned print placed in the dish in its stead. This operation is continued till all the prints are toned. We have heard that it has been suggested to place the prints in water containing a little acetic acid or common salt, in order to stop the toning action continuing from the solution which may be held in the paper. The former is most undesirable, acetic acid, as we shall see presently, decomposing the fixing bath. As to the addition of common salt, we can scarcely give a favourable opinion regarding it. The addition of a chloride does, in truth, alter the colour of the deposited gold (see _ante_), and it may be this that gives rise to the opinion that it corrects toning action. Of one thing we have little doubt, however, and that is, that the addition of any large amount of common salt will tend to turn the albumenate of silver into chloride, which in fixing will materially weaken the print. When giving the formula of the toning baths, we have indicated the depth to which toning should take place. One great point to attend to is, that a print should not be a slatey colour when fixed, and that can only be avoided by stopping the toning action when the print arrives at a blue-purple stage. The toning bath, when used, should be replaced in the bottle, and we recommend that it be kept in a dark place, otherwise any chloride of silver which finds its way into the solution will darken and be a nucleus for the precipitation of gold from the solution. The energy of the toning bath would, in consequence, be wholly gone. It will be found that in very cold solutions formed in winter the toning action is much slower than in summer, and we need scarcely point out that this due to the fact that cold invariably retards chemical action. This retardation is not advantageous, and it will be found positively hurtful as to the colour of the precipitated gold. We therefore recommend that the toning solution and the dish in which it is to be poured should be warmed before the fire, the former to a temperature of about 70°F., and the latter a little higher. By this means the toning action will take place as rapidly as in warm weather, and the same tones be produced. It must be remembered we are writing for all; not for those alone who have an elaborate arrangement for keeping their operating rooms at a good temperature in all weathers, but also for those who cannot afford the luxury. It is for this reason that we have given the above directions. CHAPTER XVI. FIXING THE PRINT. Sir J. Herschel was the first to point out that hyposulphite of soda would dissolve chloride of silver, and subsequently it has been found that it dissolves almost every organic salt of silver. In our early chapters we gave some examples of this. When we add hyposulphite to a salt of silver, such as the chloride, we get one of two reactions, the formation of a nearly insoluble double hyposulphite of soda and silver, or a readily soluble one. Silver Sodium Chloride and Hyposulphite AgCl + Na_{2}S_{2}O_{3} form Insoluble Double Sodium Hyposulphite of and Chloride. Silver and Sodium AgNaS_{2}O_{3} + NaCl And Silver Sodium Chloride and Hyposulphite 2AgCl + 3Na_{2}S_{2}O_{3} form Soluble Double Sodium Hyposulphite of and Chloride. Silver and Sodium Ag_{2}Na_{4}3(S_{2}O_{3}) + 2NaCl The first insoluble double hyposulphite is formed when there is only a small quantity of sodium hyposulphite present; the soluble kind when the sodium hyposulphite is in excess. Since it is the soluble kind which we wish to form, it is manifest that the presence of a sufficiency of hyposulphite in the fixing bath is necessary. If not, we have left the insoluble form on the paper. If either of these two kinds of hyposulphite be made in a test-tube, we can readily simulate the effect of atmospheric exposure. If slightly acid water be added to the hyposulphite, it will be seen, when chloride of silver has been dissolved by the hyposulphite, that the precipitate or solution commences to blacken, sulphide of silver being formed. On the other hand, if we take albumenate of silver, and dissolve it in hyposulphite of soda, we shall find that the addition of acid gradually causes a yellow-looking compound to separate out, and it is probably this body formed in the paper which causes the gradual yellowing of the whites of silver prints. What is taught us, then, by this observation is, that by thorough washing we must try and eliminate all traces of hyposulphite of silver, and, indeed, of the hyposulphite of soda, since the latter decomposes as rapidly in the presence of acid as does the silver compound. The formula for the fixing bath which we recommend is:-- Sodium hyposulphite 4 ounces Water 1 pint Ammonia 1/2 drachm The addition of the ammonia prevents any possibility of an acid reaction arising, and otherwise softens the film of albumen and the size of the paper, causing more rapid fixation and more thorough washing. Another thing the ammonia does is, that it prevents, in a great measure, blistering of the film of albumen, which is common in some highly-albumenized paper. Experience has shown that one ounce of solid hyposulphite will fix with safety three sheets of paper, so that an idea can be formed of how much must be used for a day's printing. The hyposulphite bath which has been used one day should never be used the next, since it invariably contains the germs of decomposition in it from some cause or another. Indeed, the appearance of the solution indicates this is so, since it is usually of a yellow or brownish appearance. The time required for fixing a print varies with the thickness of the paper used. As a rule, prints on the medium-sized paper require ten minutes' soaking in the bath, whilst thick-size requires fifteen minutes. Whilst toning, the dish containing the hyposulphite should be kept in a gentle rocking motion, as in toning, and for the same reasons. Prints may be examined from time to time, to see how the fixing progresses. When a print is not quite fixed, small spots of dark appearance will be seen when it is examined by transmitted light. The operation of fixing should be continued after these disappear for at least three or four minutes, in order that the hyposulphite of soda in the dish may get impregnated with the double silver and sodium salt which is in the print, and thus render washing more effectual. It should be noted that the dish for fixing should be at least as long and wide as the dish used for toning; that it should be deeper when, as a rule, all the prints are fixed at one time. Care should be taken that dishes which are used for sensitizing, toning, or fixing, _should not be used for anything else_. The glaze of porcelain dishes is often soft, and frequently absorbs a certain amount of the solutions used. Thus, if a porcelain dish be used for a solution of any aniline dye, it will often be found that it is permanently stained. Colour in this last is merely indication of what happens with any other solution. It will thus be seen that it is a mistake to use a dish for fixing when the glaze is cracked, since old hyposulphite must find its way into the body of the fresh solution that may be used, and thus institute a spontaneous decomposition, and a consequent want of permanence in the print. For our own part, we believe that a gutta-percha dish is a safer dish to use than any other, since it is impervious to any solution, and can be well scoured after fixing, and before being again brought into use. We believe that much of the fading of prints may be traced to the use of unsuitable dishes for fixing. CHAPTER XVII. WASHING THE PRINT. There are very many apparatus designed for washing prints; but we believe that, where few prints have to be treated, careful hand-washing is as superior to machine-washing, as hand-made paper is to machine-made. In our own practice we take the prints from the fixing-dish, and immerse them in a large puncheon of water, and allow them to soak for five minutes, after which we carefully pour off all the water, and replenish with fresh, in which we leave them for a quarter-of-an-hour. After that we take the prints and place them on a glass slab, and, with a squeegee, squeeze as much water as possible out of each separately; this we repeat twice. After two more washings of a quarter-of-an-hour, we then wash for half-an-hour, and, with a sponge, dab them as dry as possible, and again immerse for half-an-hour. After repeating this operation twice, we allow a stream of running water to pour into the puncheon for a couple of hours, carrying the stream through an india-rubber pipe, at the end of which is a glass tube, to the bottom of the puncheon, and so that the pour of water goes against the side. By this means there is a constant stir in the water, and the water flows over the edge of the puncheon. It is convenient to cut a notch in the top rim of the puncheon, so that the water may find an exit before reaching the level of the rim. The prints are then taken out, sponged once more, and dried. By this arrangement we have got prints which are perfectly unfaded, though they have been in existence eighteen years, and have been to the tropics, and in the dampest climates. This method of washing, though tedious, should be applied to all prints; but, in the present day, it can hardly be hoped that it can be immediately adopted, on account of the attention it requires; we therefore describe an apparatus which can be used. It was designed by Mr. England, and consists of a working trough, as shown in the figure, which is automatically worked by an overshot wheel. We need not enter into the details of the invention, as they are self-evident. [Illustration: _Fig._ 28.] This washing arrangement causes the prints to be alternately soaking in water, and draining. Whilst in the water they are perpetually being shaken apart by the movement of the tray, and thus every part of the print gets washed, and it is almost impossible for two prints to stick together. In all washing apparatus there is a danger of air-bells forming on the surface of the prints while in the water, but in this form there is the advantage that whilst draining the air-bells must break, and so water on rising to the level of the prints can obliterate any of the evil effects which would be caused by their being perpetually remaining on one spot. It is useless to attempt to describe other forms of the apparatus, since there are so many; we have chosen one which appears to us to be a satisfactory form. The following tests for the elimination of hyposulphite are taken from another work of this series.[26] "The following is a most delicate test. "Make the following test solution:-- Potassium permanganate 2 grains Potassium carbonate 20 " Water 1 quart "The addition of a few drops of this rose-coloured solution to a pint of water will yield a slightly pink tinge. If there be any trace of sodium hyposulphite present, this colour will give place to one of a greenish hue. "If the permanganate be not at hand, the following well-known starch iodide test may be adopted:-- "Take about two drachms of water and a small piece of starch about the size of a small pea; powder and boil the starch in the water till the solution is quite clear; add one drop of a saturated solution of iodine in alcohol to this clear liquid. It will now become dark blue. Of this solution drop two drops into two clean test tubes, and fill up one with distilled water and the other with the water to be tested; a faint blue colour should be perceptible in the first test tube. In the second test tube, should hyposulphite be present, this blue colour will have disappeared, the iodide of starch becoming colourless in its presence. The best mode of comparing the two waters is by placing a piece of white paper behind the test tubes. "It frequently occurs that though sodium hyposulphite cannot be detected in the washing water, it may be present in the paper itself. The paper on which most prints are taken being sized with starch, if a _very_ weak solution of iodine be applied with a brush across the _back_ of a print, a blue mark will indicate the _absence_ of the hyposulphite. Care must be taken that the iodine solution is _very_ weak, otherwise a part of the iodine will first destroy the trace of the salt, and then the remainder will bring out the blue re-action." We finish this chapter by quoting our maxims to be observed in printing. "_Maxims for Printing._ "1. The prints should have the highest lights _nearly_ white, and the shadows verging on a bronzed colour before toning. "2. Place the prints, before toning, in the water, face downwards, and do not wash away too much of the free nitrate of silver. "3. The toning solution must be neutral or slightly alkaline, and not colder than 60°. "4. Tone the prints to purple or sepia, according as warm or brown prints are required. "5. Move the prints, in both the toning and fixing solutions, repeatedly, taking care that no air-bubbles form on the surface. "6. Take care that the fixing bath is not acid. "7. Use fresh sodium hyposulphite solution for each batch of prints to be fixed. "8. Wash thoroughly after and before fixing. "9. Make a sensitizing bath of a strength likely to give the best results with the negatives to be printed. "10. Print in the shade, or direct sunshine, according to the density of the negative." CHAPTER XVIII. PRINTING ON PLAIN PAPER. Prints on plain paper are sometimes of use; for instance, they form an excellent basis on which to colour. They are of course duller than an albumenized print, since the image is formed more in the body of the paper than on the surface. The following formula may be used:-- Ammonium chloride 60 to 80 grains Sodium citrate 100 " Sodium chloride 20 to 30 " Gelatine 10 " Distilled water 10 ounces Or, Ammonium chloride 100 grains Gelatine 10 " Water 10 ounces The gelatine is first swelled in cold water, and then dissolved in hot water, and the remaining components of the formulæ are added. It is then filtered, and the paper is floated for three minutes, following the directions given on page 10. If it be required to obtain a print on plain paper in a hurry, a wash of citric acid and water (one grain to the ounce) may be brushed over the back of ordinary albumenized paper, and, when dried, that side of the paper may be sensitized and printed in the ordinary manner. For cold tones the wash of the citric acid may be omitted. The toning and fixing are the same as described in Chapters XII. and XIII. CHAPTER XIX. PRINTING ON RESINIZED PAPER. The following is taken from another volume of this series.[27] To Mr. Henry Cooper we are indebted for a valuable printing process, founded on substituting resins for albumen or other sizing matter. The prints obtained by this process are very beautiful, and lack that gloss of albumen which is often called vulgar and inartistic. The following are the two formulæ which Mr. Cooper has communicated to the writer:-- Frankincense 10 grains Mastic 8 " Calcium chloride 5 to 10 " Alcohol 1 ounce When the resins are dissolved in the alcohol, the paper is immersed in the solution, then dried and rolled. The sensitizing bath recommended is as follows (though the strong bath given at page 126 will answer):-- Silver nitrate 60 grains Water 1 ounce To the water is added as much gelatine as it will bear without gelatinizing at 60° Fah. The second formula gives very beautiful prints, soft and delicate in gradation. The paper is first coated with an emulsion of white lac in gelatine, which is prepared as follows:-- 3 ounces of _fresh_ white lac are dissolved in 1 pint of strong alcohol, and after filtering or decanting, as much water is added as it will bear without precipitating the lac; 1 ounce of good gelatine is soaked and dissolved in the pint of boiling water, and the lac solution is added with frequent stirring. If, at any stage of this operation, the gelatine is precipitated, a little more hot water must be added. The pint of lac solution ought, however, to be emulsified in the gelatine solution. To use the emulsion, it is warmed, and the paper immersed in or floated on it for three minutes. When dry, the coated surface is floated in the following for a couple of minutes:-- Ammonium chloride 10 grains [28]Magnesium lactate 10 " When dry, it is sensitized on a moderately strong bath (that given on the last page will answer). If more vigour in the resulting prints be required, it is floated on:-- Citric acid 5 grains White sugar 5 " This last bath improves by use, probably by the accumulation of silver nitrate from the sensitized paper. Any of the toning baths given in Chapter XII. will answer, though Mr. Cooper recommends:-- Solution of gold tri-chloride (1 gr. to 1 dr. of water) 2 dr. Pure precipitated chalk a pinch Hot water 10 ounces 2 dr. of sodium acetate are to be placed in the stock-bottle, and the above solution filtered on to it. This is made up to 20 ounces, and is fit for use in a few hours; but it improves by keeping. In commencing to tone, place a few ounces of water in the dish, and add an equal quantity of the stock solution, and if the toning begins to flag a little, add more of it from time to time. With the resin processes over-toning is to be carefully avoided. Resinized paper may be obtained from most photographic dealers, we believe, and for some purposes is an admirable substitute for albumenized paper. CHAPTER XX. PRINTING ON GELATINO-CHLORIDE EMULSION PAPER. Mr. W. T. Wilkinson has recently brought forward the notion of using gelatine instead of albumen as a medium for holding the silver chloride in printing. He uses the following formula:-- Barium chloride 2,440 grains Gelatine 2,000 " Water 20 ounces The gelatine is allowed to swell in the water, and, by the aid of heat, is dissolved; the barium chloride is then added. Next he prepares-- Silver nitrate 1,700 grains Water 5 ounces and adds this to the former, little by little, in a large bottle with much shaking, or pours it slowly into the former in a large jar, stirring briskly the whole time. This makes an emulsion of silver chloride, and is used without washing. When required for use, the gelatine, which will have set when cold, is swelled by placing the jar containing it in hot water, and is then transferred to a dish. The dish should be kept warm by being placed, supported on small blocks, in a tin tray (about two inches larger in dimensions every way than the dish) filled with hot water, the temperature of which should be about 150° F. to commence with. Saxe or Rive paper may be coated by rolling the sheet face outwards, and placing the edge of the roll upon the gelatine. The two corners of the paper in contact with the solution are then taken hold of by the fingers, and raised. The paper will unroll of itself, and take up a thin layer of the gelatine emulsion. The sheet of paper is then suspended to dry. All these operations are, of course, conducted in the dark room. The behaviour of the paper in the printing-frame is precisely the same as albumenized paper, and the washing and toning are conducted in the same way. For a fixing bath is used-- Sodium hyposulphite 2 ounces Water 20 " The washing after fixing is more rapid than with albumenized paper. It is washed in ten or twelve changes of water for ten minutes, and then placed for five minutes in an alum bath made as follows:-- Potash alum 5 ounces Water 20 " The print is washed in a few changes of water, and the prints are ready for drying and mounting. The advantage of the alum bath is that the hyposulphite is destroyed into harmless products, and the gelatine is rendered insoluble by it. In the formula given there is large excess of chloride, and we recommend that instead of using 2,440 grains of barium chloride, 2,050 grains be used. (Mr. Wilkinson has used that amount of the barium salt that would be required exactly to convert 1,700 grains of silver nitrate into silver chloride, if the formula for barium chloride were BaCl_{3} instead of BaCl_{2}.) It will be seen that whichever formula is used, there is no silver left to combine with the gelatine, and hence the image will be entirely formed by metallic silver, and not an organic salt of silver. CHAPTER XXI. DRYING THE PRINTS. In many establishments the prints are taken direct from the washing water, and hung up by American clips, and thus allowed to dry. When this is done, the prints curl up as the water leaves the paper, and they become somewhat unmanageable. If prints have to be dried at all before mounting--and they must, unless they are trimmed before toning--a better plan is to make a neat heap of some fifty or sixty of the same size (say cartes), place them on blotting-paper, and drain for a time, and then in a screw-press (such as is used to press table-cloths, for instance) to squeeze out all superfluous water. After a good hard squeeze the prints should be separated, and the plan adopted by Mr. England carried out. He has frames of light laths made, of about 6 feet by 3 feet, and over this frame is stretched ordinary paperhanger's canvas. The prints are laid on this to dry spontaneously, and they cockle up but very little. The frames, being light, are easily handled. After the squeezing is done, supposing the room in which they are placed be not very damp or very cold, the prints will be ready for trimming and mounting in a couple of hours. To our minds there is nothing superior to this mode of drying, since the squeezing in the press tends to eliminate every slight trace of hyposulphite which might be left in them. _Trimming the Prints._--Perhaps more prints are ruined in trimming than in any other way, when the operator is inexperienced, since it requires judgment to know which part of the print to trim off, so that a right balance shall be kept. In trimming landscape prints, it is impossible to give any set rules; the judgment as to what is artistic must be the guide. Of one thing we may be certain, that, unless the operator who took the original negative knows exactly how to balance his picture on the focussing-screen, the print will always bear cutting down in one direction or the other. Such a clipping, of course, alters the size of the print, which, if it be one of a series, will be a misfortune; but, on the other hand, the artistic value of the individual print will be increased. For portraits there are some few rules which should be followed in trimming. Always allow the centre of the face to be a little "out" from the central line of the print, making more space on the side towards which the sitter is looking. Allow a carte or cabinet to be cut in such a way that, if the sitter has been leaning on something, it does not seem as if he had been leaning on nothing. Should there be an unintentional lean on the part of the sitter, trim the print so that he appears in an upright position. To trim the print, there should be the various sized shapes in glass used. Thus there should be glasses with bevelled edges for the carte, the cabinet, and other sizes, which can be laid on the print as a guide to the trimming. The absolute trimming may be done either by shears or by a knife, a leather cutters' knife being excellent, since it is rounded, and can be brought to a keen edge very readily. When the knife is used, the print is placed on a large glass sheet of good thickness, the pattern placed over it, and, whilst this is held down by the left hand, the knife is used by the right, keeping it close to the edge of the pattern glass. When shears are used, the print is held against the pattern glass by the left hand, and each side trimmed by one clip, taking care to make the cut parallel to the edges of the pattern glass. It requires a little practice to prevent clipping the glass as well as the paper, but for small sized prints, such as the carte, the shears have a decided advantage over the knife. For cutting out ovals, Robinson's trimmer is an excellent adjunct to the mounting-room, and in this case ovals stamped out of sheet brass are used as guides. [Illustration: _Fig._ 29.] The figure will show the action of the trimmer. The small wheel is the cutter, and, being pivotted, it follows the curve against which it is held. It is better to cut out prints with this trimmer on sheet zinc in preference to glass, the edge of the wheel being kept sharp for a longer time than where the harder glass is used. To use the trimmer, the print is placed on the sheet of zinc, the oval mask (or square mask, with slightly rounded corners) is placed in position on it. The wheel of the trimmer is brought parallel to, and against, the edge of the mask, the handle being grasped by the right hand, the thumb to the left, and the fingers on the right. A fairly heavy downward pressure is brought to bear on the trimmer, and at the same time the wheel is caused to run along the edge of the mask. The cut should be clean, and the join perfect, if proper care be taken. It is desirable to practise on ordinary writing paper before it is taken into use for prints. Square masks with very slightly rounded corners can be used; the smaller the wheel, the less curved the corners need be. It will be seen that there is a limit to smallness of the wheel used, since, if too small, the stirrup on which it is pivoted would rest upon the mask. The larger the wheel the easier is the cutting. With larger sizes than the carte or the cabinet, mounting may often have to be delayed, since it is easier to keep a stock of unmounted prints (say landscapes) unmounted than it is when they are mounted. In this case the prints should be put away as flat as possible. The plan of drying we have indicated takes out the "curl," but even then they will not be flat enough to be handily put away. We therefore recommend the practice of stroking the prints. A flat piece of hard wood, about 1 foot long and 1-1/2 inch broad, and the thickness of a marquoise scale, has its edges carefully rounded off. The print is seized by one corner in one hand and unrolled; the face of the print is brought in contact with a piece of plate glass. The "stroker," held by the other hand, is brought with its rounded edge on to the back of the print near the corner held by the first hand. Considerable pressure is brought upon the stroker, and the print is drawn through between it and the plate. The print is then seized by another corner and similarly treated. By this means a gloss is put upon the print, and the creases and cockles are obliterated. The print is now ready for trimming. It is well to have a square of glass with true edges cut to the size of the pictures. The prints should be trimmed upon a sheet of plate glass, a sharp penknife being used to cut them. A rough test for ascertaining if the opposite sides are equal is to bring them together, and see if both corners coincide. It may sometimes be found useful to cut out a print into an oval. The following method for tracing any ellipse may be employed:--On a thickish piece of clean paper draw a line A B, making it the _extreme_ width of the oval required. Bisect it at O, and draw D O C at right angles to A B. Make O C equal to _half_ the smallest diameter of the ellipse. With the centre C and the distance O B, draw an arc of a circle, cutting A B in E and F. Place the paper on a flat board, and at E and F fix two drawing-pins. Take a piece of thread and knot it together in such a manner that half its length is equal to A F. Place the thread round the two pins at E and F, and stretch it out to tightness by the point of a lead pencil. Move the pencil guided by the cotton, taking care to keep it upright. The resulting figure will be an ellipse. Modifications of this figure may be made by making a second knot beyond the first knot, and placing the point of the pencil in the loop formed. When the figure has been traced in pencil on paper, it should be carefully cut out with a sharp penknife, and placed on the print which is to be trimmed into an oval. When so placed, a faint pencil line is run round on the print, and the cutting out proceeds either by scissors or penknife. [Illustration: _Fig._ 30.] CHAPTER XXII. MOUNTING PHOTOGRAPHS. There are many photographers who, unfortunately, are quite indifferent as to the medium they use in mounting the trimmed photographs. So long as the medium will cause the adherence of the back of the print to the cardboard employed, they are perfectly satisfied, whether it be paste fresh or sour, or starch or gelatine in a similar condition. If any of our readers have had the misfortune to have their rooms papered with rancid paste, they will have noticed that the unpleasant smell attending it has not been removed from the room for weeks, and that there is a liability of the return of the disgusting odour when the air is at all damp. In this case the fact that decomposition is going on is detected by the olfactory nerves, because the quantity is considerable. It is none the less true, however, that every square inch of the surface of the wall paper is undergoing the same ordeal, and that if it contains any colour, &c., which would be affected by decomposing organic matter, there would be but small chance of the paper retaining its fresh appearance. Were a silver print mounted with the same paste, we need scarcely point out that danger to its permanency is to be apprehended. Paste, we know, is as a rule tabooed, but there is no occasion for it to be so if care be taken that it is absolutely fresh when employed in mounting. In looking for a mounting material, we should endeavour to find something which does not readily take up moisture. Glue, gelatine, dextrine, and gum are all inadmissible on this account; on the other hand, starch, arrowroot, cornflour, and gum tragacanth, when once dry, do not seem to attract moisture. Referring to glue, Mr. W. Brooks says[29] that he has recently seen many photographs which have been mounted with that medium, and in some cases, where the glue has been put on too thickly, it swells up into ridges, showing marks of the brush with which it is applied, and each ridge after a time turns brown. The same writer is not wholly in favour of starch, but in our own opinion pure white starch is as good a material as can be met with. To prepare it for use as a mountant, a large teaspoonful of starch is placed in the bottom of a cup, with just sufficient cold water to cover it. This is allowed to remain for a couple of minutes, after which the cup is filled with boiling water, and well stirred; the starch should then be fairly thick, but not so thick as to prevent a brush taking up a proper supply for a good sized print. We will suppose that we are going to mount a day's work of carte-de-visite prints. In a former chapter we have said that it is desirable that the prints should be left damp. If they are dried, they should be _slightly_ moistened, and placed in a heap one above the other, as by so doing the moisture is confined, and one damping of all the prints is sufficient. In our own practice we have, as is natural, all the prints with the faces downwards. A stiff bristle brush is then dipped into the pot containing the starch, and the starch brushed over the back of the top print. This one is then carefully raised from the print beneath it, and, supposing it to have been properly trimmed, it is laid upon the card, and pressed down by means of a soft cloth, and placed on one side to dry. The next print is then treated in the same manner, and so on. By this plan no starch gets on the face of the prints, which is a desideratum. With a little practice, just sufficient starch will be brushed on each carte, and no more. Young hands, however, are sometimes apt to give more than a fair share to them; in this case, after pressing the print down with the soft cloth, it may be useful to place on the print a piece of writing paper, and press all superfluous starch out by a rounded straight-edge, or an ivory or wooden paper knife. The card in this case should be placed on a slab of thick glass, so as give an even pressure. The starch, which will exude beyond the edges of the card, should be carefully wiped off with a _clean_ cloth. This is of course a method to be adopted only in the case of bungling mounting, but it is useful then, and may save a carte. It should be remembered that the less mounting medium used, the greater is the chance of a silver print not fading. To mount larger prints, the back should be slightly damped, and the brush with the starch applied with cross strokes, so that every part is covered. Particular care should be taken that the corners and edges are not missed, since it often necessitates re-mounting the print, which is to be avoided as far as possible, since it is a troublesome matter. The rounded-edged ruler, and the sheet of white paper, is also useful here, since over a large surface there is more difficulty in getting even layers of starch, than over smaller ones. When a print has to be mounted with a margin, the places where the top corners have to come should be marked with a fine pencil point. By a little dexterity, the top edge of the print, the back of which has been covered with starch in the manner described, can be brought into the position indicated by these dots, and be then lowered without puckers or folds. It should be remembered that the print should just cover the pencil marks, since it is almost impossible to erase blacklead with india-rubber, if any starch should by accident get on it. It is well to dry these prints under pressure, since the cardboard is apt to cockle. A couple of boards rather longer than the prints suffice for the purpose. The mounted prints are laid between them, a sheet of clean blotting-paper separating each, and a few weights placed on the top board. For prints of moderate size, a table-cloth press is an excellent substitute. As to the kind of mounts to be used, opinions vary. To our mind, the simpler they are, the better they look. It is not rare to find a regular advertisement of the photographic establishment below a carte or cabinet print. To say the least of it, this is bad taste, and we are sure it is bad art. If the work be good, it needs no recommendation; and if it be bad, the less of an advertisement that appears, the better it is for the photographer. At the back of a carte or cabinet is the place where any advertisement should appear; but even here it may be overdone. When we find the back of the carte got up with any amount of gold-lettering flourishes, and no blank space on which the eye can rest without encountering some one especial merit of the artist, we may expect to find on the front of the card the same kind of tawdry work. It is seldom advisable to have the mount of a white colour, though for cartes or cabinets, in which the margin will be hidden in the album, this is not of much consequence; but for prints in which the margin shows, it is generally advisable to have some slight tint visible, preferably of a cream or buff colour. There are some classes of work which will, however, bear a white margin, but it is rarely the case; and we advise, as a general rule, that there should be some tone on it, to prevent its attracting the eye away from the picture by its whiteness. Black mounts are much in vogue at the present time, and they are effective and artistic; but chemical analysis has shown them not to be safe, since they are enamelled with substances which are apt to induce fading. A good and stable black mount is a desideratum, which it is to be hoped will be found before long. Notwithstanding our preference for starch as a mountant, we give a method of preparing glue for the same purpose. The glue used should be light, and as clean as possible. It should be shredded and soaked in sufficient clean water to cover it for five or six hours; any dust which may have adhered to it will find its way into the water. The water should be poured off and replaced by an equal quantity of fresh. The vessel containing it is heated over a small gas jet or spirit lamp until solution takes place. The liquid is then thinned down with warm water till it is of proper consistency, a point which is soon learned by a little practice. An ordinary small glue pot will be found convenient. It is sometimes useful to have at hand a mounting solution which will not cockle the mount, and the late Mr. G. Wharton Simpson gave a formula which is very good in this respect. Fine cut gelatine or shredded glue is swollen in the least possible quantity of water, and this is boiled with alcohol, with much stirring. If 80 grains of Nelson's No. 1 fine cut gelatine are taken, 3 dr. of water should be used for making it, and to it 2 oz. of alcohol be added. When cool this sets into a jelly, and can be used by letting the bottle into which it has been transferred stand in hot water. Prints can be mounted on foolscap paper with this medium without any serious cockling being apparent. It should be recollected that no two batches of paper will mount exactly alike, some expanding more than others. It is well to mount a trial print before doing many, to see exactly how the paper under manipulation behaves. _Rolling the Prints._--After the prints have been under the hands of the retoucher, they should be rolled in a rolling-press in order to give a brightness to the printed image. It would be invidious to point out any particular press that should be used. Suffice it to say, there are many excellent ones in the market. The directions for cleaning and using the press are supplied with each machine; we therefore refrain from saying anything about them. CHAPTER XXIII. DEFECTS IN PRINTS. The bath solution is sometimes repelled by the paper, and this is found chiefly in highly albumenized paper, and is generally caused by the paper being too dry. Passing the sheet of paper over the steam from a saucepan will generally effect a cure. Small white spots, with a black central pin-point, are often met with in prints. Dust on the paper during sensitizing will cause them, the grit forming a nucleus for a minute bubble. All paper should be thoroughly dusted before being floated on the sensitizing bath. Grey, star-like spots arise from small particles of inorganic matter, such as ferric oxide, lime, &c., which are present in the paper. They become more apparent by decomposition during the printing operations. They may generally be discernible by examining the paper by transmitted light. Bronze lines (straight) occur through a stoppage during floating the paper in the sensitizing solution. Should the lines be irregular, forming angles and curves, it is probable that a scum of silver oxide, &c., may be detected on the surface of the sensitizing solution. A strip of blotting-paper drawn across the bath will remove the cause of the defect. Should the print appear marbled, it may be surmised that the sensitizing solution is weak, or that the paper has not been floated sufficiently. In some cases it may arise from imperfect albumenizing; but in ordinary commercial samples the cause can be easily traced. Red marks on the shadows may appear during toning, and are very conspicuous after fixing. They generally arise from handling the paper with hot, moist fingers after sensitizing; greasy matter being deposited on the surface, prevents the toning bath acting properly on such parts. Weak prints are generally caused by weak negatives. Such can be partially remedied by paying attention to the strength of the sensitizing bath (see Appendix), and by using washed paper. Harsh prints are due to harsh negatives. They can generally be remedied by paying attention to the mode of printing, as given in Chapter IX. If the negative be under-exposed and wanting in detail, there is, however, no cure for this defect. A red tone is due to insufficient toning; whilst a poor and blue tone is due to an excess of toning. The whites may appear yellow from imperfect washing, imperfect toning, imperfect fixing, or from the use of old sensitized paper. Should prints refuse to tone, either the gold has been exhausted, or else a trace of sodium hyposulphite has been carried into the toning bath by the fingers or other means. A trace of hyposulphite is much more injurious to the print than a fair quantity of it. Should the toning bath refuse to tone after the addition of gold, it may be presumed that it is contaminated by a trace of sodium hyposulphite. A dark mottled appearance in the body of the paper indicates imperfect fixing, combined with the action of light on the unaltered chloride during fixing. If the fixing bath be acid, the excess of acid combines with the sulphur, and forms hydrosulphuric acid, which will also cause the defect. The cause of mealiness or "measles" in the print has been explained in page 32. CHAPTER XXIV. ENCAUSTIC PASTE. The value of an encaustic paste in improving the effect of photographic prints has become very generally recognised amongst photographers. A good encaustic confers three special benefits on the print: it gives depth, richness, and transparency to the shadows; it renders apparent delicate detail in the lights which would otherwise remain imperceptible; and it aids in protecting the surface, and so tends to permanency. One of the writers has in his possession prints that were treated with an encaustic paste thirteen years ago, which retain all their original freshness and purity, while prints done at the same time from the same negatives have gone, to say the least of it, "off colour." Various formulæ for the preparation of encaustic pastes have been published, and many of them very excellent. The qualities required are, easiness of application, and the capacity of giving richness and depth without too much gloss, and of yielding a hard, firm, permanent surface. For a proper combination of all these qualities, nothing has ever approached the paste of the late Adam-Salomon, of which the following is the formula:-- Pure white wax 500 grains Gum elemi 10 " Benzole 200 " Essence of lavender 300 " Oil of spike 15 " The wax is cut into shreds, and melted in a capsule over a water bath. Placing it in a jar, and the latter in a pan of hot water, will serve. Powder the elemi, and dissolve it in the solvent, using gentle heat. Some samples of elemi are soft and tough, and will not admit of powdering, in which case it may be roughly divided into small portions, and placed in a bottle with the solvents. Strain through muslin, and add the clear solution to the melted wax, and stir well. It is then poured into a wide-mouthed bottle, and allowed to cool. The encaustic paste is put on the prints in patches, and then rubbed with a light, quick motion, with a piece of flannel, until a firm, fine surface is obtained. We give another simple formula which is efficient, though we ourselves prefer the above. White wax cut into shreds 1 ounce Turpentine 1 " and thinned down, if necessary, till it has the consistency of "cold cream." Yet another is-- White wax 1 ounce Benzole 2 ounces. CHAPTER XXV. ENAMELLING PRINTS. There are several modes of enamelling prints, but there is none better than that described by Mr. W. England, which we quote in his words. "I have a glass having a good polished surface (patent plate is not necessary), and rub over it some powdered French chalk tied up in a muslin bag. Dust off the superfluous chalk with a camel's hair brush, and coat with enamel collodion. I find it an improvement to add to the collodion usually sold for the purpose 2 dr. of castor oil to the pint. When the collodion is well set, immerse the plate in a dish of water. When several prints are required to be enamelled, a sufficient number of plates may be prepared and put in dishes; this will save time. Now take the first plate, and well wash under a tap till all greasiness has disappeared; place it on a levelling stand, and pour on as much water as the plate will hold. Then lay the print on the top, squeeze out all the water, and place the plate and print between several thicknesses of blotting-paper to remove all superfluous moisture. The plate, with the print in contact, should now be placed in a warm room to dry spontaneously, when the print will come easily from the glass. Care should be taken not to attempt to remove the print till quite dry. If the pictures required to be enamelled have been dried, it will be necessary to rub over them some ox-gall with a plug of soft rag; otherwise the water will run in globules on the surface, and make blisters when laid on the collodion. "I may mention that prints done in this way lose their very glossy surface on being mounted, but retain their brilliancy, which I think is an improvement, as I dislike the polished surface usually given to the print when gelatine is employed." CHAPTER XXVI. CAMEO PRINTS. At one time there was a rage amongst photographers to produce cameos, and, for this purpose, a special piece of apparatus was required to produce the embossing. The figure will explain it. [Illustration: _Fig._ 31.] The print, after mounting, was enamelled by coating a plate with collodion--as described above--and a thin film of liquid gelatine applied. In some cases the carte itself was gelatinized, dried, and damped, and placed in contact with the collodion film. The carte was placed face downwards on the gelatine, and placed under pressure till quite dry. It was then removed, and bore on its surface a high gloss caused by the collodion. It was then ready for embossing, which was effected by placing it in the above apparatus. Some people like the style; and it will be seen that great variety in it may be made by printing sufficient depth of border round the cameo; but, for our own part, we think that, in an art point of view, they are decidedly vulgar; and besides which, the surface of the cameo is readily scratched, since it is raised. We only give a brief account of what has been done in this direction, not to encourage its adoption, but rather to caution the photographer. APPENDIX. REDUCTION OF OVER-EXPOSED PRINTS. Mr. England writes as follows to the Photographic Journal, and we can unhesitatingly say that the method of reducing an over-printed proof is excellent. "A simple and certain method of reducing over-printed proofs has been one of the wants long felt by all photographers. It is well known that in every photographic establishment even the most careful printers cannot always be sure of getting the exact depth of tone required, and proofs occasionally get over-printed. Of course prevention is better than cure; but, when a remedy is necessary, the method I am about to describe answers admirably. I tried a great many experiments before I succeeded to my satisfaction. I found that cyanide of potassium totally destroyed the print, even when used moderately strong. By using a weaker solution it was well under control, and the exact depth could be readily obtained; but during the washing to remove the cyanide the action of the latter continued, and spoiled every proof. I then tried several methods to arrest the action of the cyanide, but without success. It then occurred to me to use the cyanide in such a weak state that but little should be held in the paper, only sufficient to reduce the print to the required depth; for this purpose I made a bath of only four drops of saturated solution of cyanide to a pint of water. The prints immersed at first showed no signs of getting lighter, but after about an hour the most perfect results had been obtained with prints considerably over-printed. With lighter pictures a less time is required. Proofs treated in this way lose nothing of their tone during the after-washing, which should be thoroughly done, and, when dry, retain all the brilliancy of an ordinary print." The plan of using cyanide has, we know, often been proposed, but with no success until, we believe, Mr. W. Brooks gave a formula which worked successfully with him. Another plan, proposed by Mr. L. Warnerke, for effecting the same thing is the use of ferric sulphate. A weak solution is prepared, and the print immersed in it. The reduction takes place rapidly, but evenly. We need scarcely say that it is better not to have to use either of these remedies, by avoiding over-printing; but as mistakes will occur, it is evident that the above will be of use at times. UTILIZATION OF SILVER RESIDUES. All paper or solutions in which there is silver should be saved, as it has been proved by experience that from 50 to 75 per cent. of the whole of the silver used can be recovered by rigid adherence to the careful storage of "wastes." 1. All prints should be trimmed, if practicable, before toning and fixing; in all cases these clippings should be collected. When a good basketful of them is collected, these, together with the bits of blotting-paper attached to the bottom end of sensitized paper during drying, and that used for the draining of plates, should be burnt in a stove, and the ashes collected. These ashes will naturally occupy but a small space in comparison with the paper itself. Care should be taken that the draught from the fire is not strong enough to carry up the ashes. 2. All washings from prints, waters used in the preparation of dry plates, all baths, developing solutions (after use), and old toning baths, should be placed in a tub, and common salt added. This will form silver chloride. 3. The old hyposulphite baths used in printing should be placed in another tub. To this the potassium sulphide of commerce may be added. Silver sulphide is thus formed. 4. To No. 1 nitric acid may be added, and the ashes boiled in it till no more silver is extracted by it. The solution of silver nitrate thus produced is filtered off through white muslin, and put aside for further treatment, when common salt is added to it to form chloride, and added to No. 2. 5. The ashes may still contain silver chloride. This may be dissolved out by adding a solution of sodium hyposulphite, and adding the filtrate No. 3. 6. No. 2, after thoroughly drying, may be reduced to metallic silver in a reducing crucible[30] by addition of two parts of sodium carbonate and a little borax to one of the silver chloride. These should be well mixed together, and placed in the covered crucible in a coke fire, and gradually heated. If the operator be in possession of one of Fletcher's gas furnaces he can employ it economically, and with far less trouble than using the fire. (It is supplied with an arrangement for holding crucibles, which is useful for the purpose.) After a time, on lifting off the cover, it will be found that the silver is reduced to a metallic state. After all seething has finished, the crucible should be heated to a white heat for a quarter of an hour. The molten silver should be turned out into an iron pan (previously rubbed over with plumbago to prevent the molten metal spirting), and immersed in a pail of water. The washing should be repeated till nothing but the pure silver remains. The silver hyposulphite, having been reduced to the sulphide by the addition of the potassium sulphide, is placed in a crucible, and subjected to a white heat; the sulphur is driven off, and the silver remains behind. Another method of reducing silver chloride to the metallic state is by placing it in water slightly acidulated with sulphuric acid together with granulated zinc. The zinc is attacked, evolving hydrogen, which, in its turn, reduces the silver chloride to the metallic state, and forming hydrochloric acid. After well washing, the silver may be dissolved up in nitric acid. Yet another method is to take sugar of milk and a solution of crude potash, when the silver is rapidly reduced. This requires careful washing, and it is well to heat the metal to a dull red heat to get rid of any adherent and insoluble organic matter which may have been formed, before dissolving it in nitric acid. TO PRINT FROM WEAK AND HARD NEGATIVES. Should a negative be found very hard, a slight modification of the sensitizing solution will be found beneficial, supposing the ordinary paper is to be used. Silver nitrate 30 grains Water 1 ounce The negative should in this case be printed in the sun. The more intense the light, the less contrast there will be in the print, as the stronger light more rapidly effects a change in the albuminate than if subjected to weaker diffused light. The reason for the reduction in quantity of the silver nitrate in the solution is given on page 15. To print from a weak negative, the sensitizing solution should be:-- Silver nitrate 80 grains Water 1 ounce The printing should take place in the shade; the weaker the negative, the more diffused the light should be. If a negative be dense, but all the gradations of light and shade be perfect, the strong bath, and, if, possible, a strongly-salted paper, should be used. The printing should take place in sunlight. TO MAKE GOLD TRI-CHLORIDE [AU CL_{3}]. Place a half-sovereign (which may contain silver as well as copper) in a convenient vessel; pour on it half a drachm of nitric acid, and mix with it two-and-a-half drachms of hydrochloric acid; digest at a gentle heat, but do not boil, or probably the chlorine will be driven off. At the expiration of a few hours add a similar quantity of the acids. Probably this will be sufficient to dissolve all the gold. If not, add acid the third time; all will have been dissolved by this addition, excepting, perhaps, a trace of silver, which will have been deposited by the excess of hydrochloric acid as silver chloride. If a precipitate should have been formed, filter it out, and wash the filter paper well with distilled water. Take a filtered solution of ferrous sulphate (eight parts water to one of iron) acidulated with a few drops of hydrochloric acid, and add the gold solution to it; the iron will cause the gold alone to deposit as metallic gold, leaving the copper in solution. By adding the gold solution to the iron the precipitate is not so fine as if added _vice versa_. Let the gold settle, and pour off the liquid; add water, and drain again, and so on till no acid is left, testing the washings by litmus paper. Take the metallic gold which has been precipitated, re-dissolve in the acids as before, evaporate to dryness on a water bath (that is, at a heat not exceeding 212° F.) The resulting substance is the gold tri-chloride. To be kept in crystals this should be placed in glass tubes hermetically sealed. For non-commercial purposes it is convenient to dissolve it in water (one drachm to a grain of gold). Ten grains of gold dissolved yield 15.4 grains of the salt. Hence if ten grains have been dissolved, 15.4 drachms of water must be added to give the above strength. TO MAKE SILVER NITRATE. Silver coins are mostly alloyed with tin or copper. In both cases the coin should be dissolved in nitric acid diluted with twice its bulk of water. If tin be present there will be an insoluble residue left of stannic oxide. The solution should be evaporated down to dryness, re-dissolved in water, filtered, and again evaporated to dryness. It will then be fit for making up a bath. If copper be present, the solution must be treated with silver oxide. The silver oxide thus formed is added, little by little, till the blue or greenish colour has entirely disappeared. This will precipitate the copper oxide from the copper nitrate, setting free the nitric acid, which, in its turn, will combine with the silver oxide. The copper will fall as a black powder mixed with any excess of silver oxide there may be. Take one or two drops of the solution in a measure, and add a drachm of water, and then add ammonia to it till the precipitate first formed is re-dissolved. If no blue colour is apparent, the substitution of the silver for the copper is complete; if not, more silver oxide must be added till the desired end is attained. Distilled water must next be added till the strength of the bath is that required. This can be tested by the argentometer. If to a solution of silver nitrate a solution of potash be added, a precipitate will be formed. This is the silver oxide. The potash should be added till no further precipitation takes place. The oxide should be allowed to settle, the supernatant fluid be decanted off (a syphon arrangement is very convenient), and fresh distilled water added to it. This, in its turn, after the oxide has been well stirred, should be decanted off. The operation should be repeated five or six times, to ensure all nitrate of potash being absent, though its presence does not matter for a printing bath, since this or some other nitrate is formed when the paper is floated. THE END. FOR Photographic Stock and Apparatus, Artists' Materials, etc., _Send your orders to the_ MAMMOTH STOCK HOUSE _OF_ W. R. REID, 352 & 354 Euclid Avenue, CLEVELAND, OHIO. Entrekin's Enamellers, Weston's Burnishers, Magee's Nitrate Silver, and other Chemicals, Photo-Chrome Outfits, Convex Glass, oval and square, Card size to 10 x 12, Webster's Transparent Water Colors, Parlor Paste, Velvet Frames, Square and Oval Walnut Frames, Mouldings and Linings. SOLAR PRINTING. MANUFACTURER OF _Reid's New Negative and Ferrotype Collodion, Reid's New Negative and Ferrotype Varnish, Reid's Brilliant and Extra Brilliant Non-blistering Albumen Paper._ No charge for packing boxes. Write for price-list. Special prices to large buyers and cash customers. JAS. H. SMITH _Wholesale Dealer in_ PHOTOGRAPHIC GOODS, Picture Frames, Mouldings. Albums, Brackets, Mats, Picture Cord, Glass, Patent Window Cornices, etc. OUTFITS A SPECIALTY. Second-hand Apparatus, Lenses etc., Bought, Sold or Exchanged. _BEST GOODS AT LOWEST PRICES._ 26 SOUTH FIFTH STREET, QUINCY, ILL. Send for Price-Lists. A. M. COLLINS, SON & CO. Manufacturers of all kinds of CARDS AND CARDBOARDS FOR PHOTOGRAPHERS WAREHOUSE: No. 527 Arch Street PHILADELPHIA 28,000 square feet of Floor room. The largest force of Employees. Largest Stock in the United States. HIRAM J. THOMPSON, JOBBER IN PICTURE FRAMES, MOULDINGS, MIRRORS, ALBUMS, PICTURES, AND PHOTOGRAPHIC MATERIALS. No. 259 Wabash Ave., CHICAGO. Send for my late Catalogue. Photographic Enlargements BY THE PLATINOTYPE PROCESS. DONE WITH THE Electric Light. The Platinotype Prints are characterized by a _Beautiful Tone, Perfection of Detail, Pure Whites, and ABSOLUTE PERMANENCE._ By the use of the Electric Light we are enabled to proceed without regard to the weather, and can fill orders _promptly_ without the delays usually attending Solar Printing. Send for Price-Lists. THOS. H. McCOLLIN, _631 ARCH STREET_, (Dealer in all Photographic Supplies.) PA. PHILADELPHIA, PA. _THE OLD RELIABLE!_ P. SMITH & CO., NO. 121 WEST FIFTH STREET, CINCINNATI, OHIO. AND BRANCH AT NO. 6 EAST BROAD STREET, COLUMBUS, OHIO. WHERE _The Amateur and the Professional Photographer_ WILL FIND EVERYTHING =Requisite for either the WET or the DRY PLATE PROCESS.= _Dry Plates and Outfits in Great Variety._ _Velvet Frames, etc., etc., etc._ MULLETT BROS., DEALERS IN Photographic Supplies. 518 WALNUT ST., KANSAS CITY, MO. Western Photographers! look to your interests, and purchase your stock and apparatus at the Kansas City Stock House, thereby avoiding heavy freight bills and a great loss of time. _In addition to a full line of Photo. Supplies, we have also a large variety of_ ALBUMS, SILK VELVET FRAMES, PICTURE CORD AND NAILS, CONVEX GLASS, MATTS, ETC., ETC. Photographers in the East contemplating moving West will find it to their interests to purchase their goods here, thereby saving a great expense in shipping. Having more than doubled our capital and room, we are now able to compete in _price_ and _variety_ of goods with _any_ house West of N. Y. Send a trial order and be convinced. Prompt and careful attention to all orders. MILWAUKEE. GUSTAVUS BODE, Northwestern Photographic Warehouse and Chemical Laboratory, 11 Spring St., Milwaukee, Wis. A FULL LINE OF PHOTOGRAPHIC GOODS AND ARTISTS' MATERIALS, --EMBRACING-- _Apparatus, Chemicals, Glass, Albumenized Papers, Frames, Albums, Views, etc._ English, German and American Oil Colors, and all Materials used in the Fine Arts. SPECIALTY. Nitrate of Silver and Chloride of Gold made for photographic purposes. Gold and Silver Wastes refined. Satisfaction guaranteed. SEND FOR PRICE-LIST. BUFFALO PHOTOGRAPHIC WAREHOUSE. David Tucker & Co. Photographers' Supplies. 410 MAIN ST. BUFFALO, N. Y. DAVID TUCKER. S. B. BUTTS _1860 National Photographic Emporium. 1881_ 205 W. Baltimore Street, BALTIMORE, MD. RICHARD WALZL, Proprietor. Dry Plate Outfits a Specialty, All the latest novelties in connection with the improved Dry-plate Processes furnished at the shortest notice. _Any Photographer_ who wants _Lenses_, _Cameras_, _Camera Stands_, _Backgrounds_, _Chemicals_, _Glass_, _Albumen Paper_ or in fact _any Photographic Goods_, should send for our price-list and be convinced that it is to their interest to send their orders to us direct. A trial order will convince the most skeptical. Photography in all its Branches for the Trade. Expert Artists employed on the premises enable us to make this branch a great feature, and we can always guarantee satisfaction. Our Practical Photographic Publications are unequalled. See testimonials in _Photographer's Friend._ Price-list sent free to any photographer. OUR NEW LENSES ARE THE SENSATION OF THE DAY--and the prices are so moderate they will astonish you. You can try our lenses before you buy them. If you want anything in the photographic line, address RICHARD WALZL, BALTIMORE, MD. PA. PITTSBURGH, PA. JOHN I. SHAW, _Successor to J. W. Morrison_, MANUFACTURER AND DEALER IN _Photographic Materials, Cameras, etc., etc._, Nos. 10 & 12 Sixth Street, PITTSBURGH, PA. _Mouldings, Albums, Oval, Square and Arch Top Frames, Velvet and Combination Frames._ Photographic Dry Plates and Outfits for Amateurs and Professionals. Everything required in the practice of Photography in all its forms. JOHN I. SHAW, PITTSBURGH, PA. W. J. HAZENSTAB'S NEW PHOTOGRAPHIC STOCK HOUSE, 406 Market Street, St. Louis, Mo. Is now opened and prepared to fill all orders for PHOTOGRAPHIC GOODS, _At Bed Rock Prices for Cash._ _General Outfits for Galleries a Specialty._ _Remember I Carry in Stock_: Am. Opt. Co's Camera Boxes and Stand, Success Camera Boxes, Sam. Peck & Co.'s Camera Boxes, Voigtlander & Son's Portrait Lenses, Darlot's Portrait Lenses, Darlot's Quick-Working Portrait Lenses, Darlot's View Lenses, Also the Celebrated Peerless Portrait Lenses, known for their Rapidity and Depth. _And a Large Assortment of_ CARD STOCK. ALSO AGENT FOR _CRAMER & NORDEN'S DRY PLATES, EASTMAN'S DRY PLATES, CARBUTT'S DRY PLATES_. Large Assortment of Frames and Mats at very low prices. Small Expense in carrying on my business enables me to sell for less money. --> _I Attend to All Orders Personally._ <-- Send for Trial Order. Price-lists sent on Application. WM. J. HAZENSTAB, _Photographers' Supply House_, 406 Market Street, St. Louis, Mo. _N. B.--Remember I give 5 per cent. discount for cash on all orders of $10 00 or over._ E. Weiskopf, Manufacturer of Optical Lenses, Specialties: Condensers, Cosmorama Lenses, and Magnifying Mirrors, No. 182 Centre Street, New York. NEW YORK, Oct. 10, 1881. _In view of the fact that the undersigned has aided in the production of many of the most artistic photographic pictures produced in this country during the last ten years, pictures which have received gold and silver medals at Philadelphia, London, Paris, Amsterdam and other cities of the world, he feels warranted in soliciting the patronage of photographers unacquainted with his works._ --> _My recently introduced Backgrounds comprise those suitable for the stocking of a New Gallery, as well as several suitable for making special Exhibition pictures._ No. ---- =Vienna Tapestry=. No. 439. =New Eastlake=. No. 440. =The Villa=, (_Summer_). No. 435. =The Winter Road=, No. 433. =The Rustic Wall=. No. 426. =The Palisades=. My Three-Quarter Length Backgrounds are, viz: _Nos. 435, 437, 438._ _For Special Pictures_ I recommend my new _Portrait Plaques_--an entirely new article in Portraiture. Several Designs. _For suspending on Backgrounds_, ornamenting Fireplaces and Sideboards, my _Imitation Dutch Plaques_ are desirable and very popular. MY LATE ACCESSORIES ARE: No. 396. =The Gambier Rock=. No. 399. =Eastlake Fireplace and Cabinet Combined=, (_very rich_), =several movable parts=. No. 397. =The Couch and set piece=. No. 414. =Seavey's Eastlake Cottage and Balcony=. No. 441. =The Garden Wall=, (_3 parts_). No. ---- =The New Garden Seat=, (_3 changes_). * . Ye Monthlie Bulletin . A.D. of L. W. Seavey his Workeshop. 1881 Under the foregoing heading, in the "Specialty" columns of the several Photographic Journals of America, will appear from month to month brief announcements of my new productions. LAFAYETTE W. SEAVEY, _No. 8 Lafayette Place, NEW YORK, U. S. A._ PHOTOGRAPHERS' SUPPLIES. FRAMES, ALBUMS, _VELVET GOODS._ LOWEST PRICES. Send For Our Bargain List. EUREKA. CRAMER & NORDEN AND EASTMAN'S DRY PLATES. AMERICAN OPT. CO. DRY PLATE CAMERAS, AND _GENERAL APPARATUS._ J. C. SOMERVILLE, 1009 OLIVE STREET, _Near Scholten's Gallery_, ST. LOUIS, MO. WILSON'S PHOTOGRAPHICS. A Partial Photographic Encyclopedia. _By_ E. L. WILSON, _Editor "Phila. Photographer," "Photo. Mosaics," etc._ _A STANDARD BOOK for ALL Workers in Photography._ CONTENTS. LESSON A. Treatment of the Subject--B. The Needful Apparatus--C. The Objective or Lens--D. The Dark-Room--E. Preparation of the Glass--F. Chemicals and Solutions--G. The Manipulations--H. Manipulatory Miseries--I. Retouching the Negative--J. The Glass Studio--K. Accessories and Light--L. Managing the Model--M. Printing on Albumen Paper--N. Printing on Plain Paper--O. General Remarks on Printing--P. Printing on Various Surfaces--Q. Printing Perplexities--R. Art in Printing--S. Mounting and Finishing--T. Photography Outside--U. Bromo-Gelatine Emulsion Work--V. Vogel's Collodion Emulsion--W. Enlargements and Lantern Slides--X. Phototypes, Platinotypes, and Collodion Transfers--Y. Wastes and Their Worth--Z. Metrical Measuring--&. Concluding Confab--Index (Six Pages.) It is believed that this is the most valuable work ever offered to the working photographer. It contains 352 pages; 7 x 8-3/4 inch cover, and is 1-1/2 inches thick. More than 100 illustrations. It gives full details of all practical Processes, Old and New, Public and Secret. Among the latter are the "Phototype," sometimes called the "Artotype" process, with examples; many of the "Lightning" processes; the "Platinotype" process; the "Collodion Transfer" or "Megatype" process, and many others. 58 pages are devoted to Posing and Lighting; 37 pages give instructions in Emulsion "Dry" Work; 29 pages show how to Build and Use Skylights; 108 pages furnish instructions for Manipulating Negatives; 37 pages are applied to Printing Formula and Dodges; 175 pages gives Notes from Authors all over the world. It is printed on fine white paper, made especially for it, and sold at the low price of $4 00 POST-PAID $4 00. For the beginner, for the amateur, for the photographic worker, it is believed to be most complete. No live photographer should fail to get it soon, before his neighbor is ahead. _EDWARD L. WILSON, Publisher and Proprietor_, Nos. 912 & 914 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. DOUGLASS, THOMPSON & CO., Merchants in all Requisites pertaining to the Art-Science of Photography, Photographers' Booksellers, Stationers & Newsdealers, 229 & 231 STATE STREET, CHICAGO, ILL. A practical knowledge of the Art-Science of Photography gives us a special advantage in meeting the demands of the Profession. _Everything used in_ Silver Printing _selected with greatest care and guaranteed of the highest order of excellence._ =PRICES LOW=. All the STANDARD BRANDS of ALBUMEN PAPER we furnish under _genuine_ marks and at lowest prices. It will pay you to send for our Catalogues, Bureau of Information, Hints on Burnishing, etc, GAYTON A. DOUGLASS. } ALL FREE. HENRY G. THOMPSON. } ATTENTION PHOTOGRAPHERS! _Brooklyn's Head-Quarters_ --FOR-- Photographic Stock Of Every Description, _At the LOWEST possible C. O. D. Prices._ Sent all over the United States at the shortest notice. All the best Brands of Albumen Papers and Card Stock, etc., etc., kept constantly on hand. --_Send a Trial Order and be Convinced._-- L. H. WILCOX, _236 Fulton Street_, BROOKLYN, N. Y. The BEST is the CHEAPEST. Listen not to the cries of venders of worthless imitations, but buy the _genuine_, and receive FULL VALUE for your money. _Dallmeyer Lenses, Success Cameras, Climax Cameras, E. A., G. C. and Platyscope Lenses, Handy Head-Rests._ _Genuine N. P. A. & S. & M. Albumen Papers_, =With The WATER-MARK= _Brilliant Swiss Albumen Papers, A. D. Swiss Albumen Papers, Hovey's, Morgan's, Peerless, Clemons' & Hail Columbia Albumen Papers._ RAPID PRINTING PAPER, EASTMAN'S DRY PLATES, ANTHONY'S DRY PLATE OUTFITS. Chemicals of Guaranteed Purity and Strength. _Every Requisite for the Studio and Field._ SEND FOR ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE AND PRICE-LIST. The Most Extensive Line of Velvet, Plush and Ebony Frames, Easels, Albums, Stereoscopes, Graphoscopes, Portraits of Celebrities, Stereo. Views, etc., on this Continent. E. & H. T. ANTHONY & CO., 591 BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY. 591 H. EXTRA BRILLIANT. H. EXTRA AND MORGAN'S Albuminized PAPERS Fully 2,500 reams of Morgan's Paper has been made and sold within the last year--equal to twenty million cabinet size pictures. We expect to increase its sale the coming year to almost double the above, judging from the demand of the last few months. The pearl tint is used in greater quantities than the other tints. Send your orders for this brand of paper to J. HAWORTH, _DEALER IN PHOTO. SUPPLIES._ 626 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. EASTMAN'S Gelatino-Bromide DRY PLATES. RELIABLE, RAPID, INSTANTANEOUS. THE BEST! Used by all Professionals and Amateurs in preference to any others. Complete Instructions accompany Each Package. _Eastman's Gelatino-Bromide Pellicle_, For those who wish to prepare their own Plates. Manufactured only by the _EASTMAN DRY PLATE CO., Rochester, N. Y._ E. & H. T. Anthony & Co., 591 Broadway, New York, _SEND FOR CIRCULAR._ _TRADE AGENTS._ Andrew J. Smith, PHOTOGRAPHIC STOCK DEPOT. _WE KEEP A FULL LINE OF_ Photographic Materials, Which we are Selling as Low as any house in New York or Boston. DEALER IN N. P. A. and S. & M. Dresden, Hovey, Berlin, Morgan's and Clemons' Double Albumenized Paper, Nixon & Stokes' Ferrotype Holders, Collins, Son & Co's Card Stock of every description, Taber & Co's Pebble Mats, etc., Powers & Weigtman's Silver and Chemicals, Anthony's Ether, Iodides, Collodion and Varnishes, Atwood's Alcohol, Hyposulphite of Soda, Sulphate of Iron, Acetic Acid, and Glass in any quantity. _Dry Plate Outfits for Amateurs & Photographers. Everything pertaining to the Trade. John Dean & Co's Plates._ Large Assortment of Frames, Convex Glass, Artists' Materials, etc., etc. _N. B._--No charge for boxing. Your orders are solicited. _No. 94 Westminster Street_, PROVIDENCE, R. I. [Illustration: AMERICAN INSTITUTE NEW-YORK] HIGHEST MEDAL. [Illustration: _The Medal of Superiority_ AWARDED TO Wm F. Ashe FOR A PHOTOGRAPHIC BACKGROUND COMB. STAIRCASE, BALUSTRADE & PEDESTAL 1878.] BACKGROUNDS For Everybody! Fancy, Plain, Rembrandt, etc., etc. FLOOR CLOTHS, _painted in Oil_, _Suitable for Interiors and Exteriors_, ASHE'S COMBINATION STAIRCASE BALUSTRADE AND PEDESTAL. ASHE'S PATENT _Telescopic_ OR _Extension Pedestals_. _AND THE FOLLOWING ACCESSORIES_: ROCKS, VINES, BRIDGES, VASES, CABINETS, and MANTEL-PIECES in Papier Maché and in Profile, the latter interchangeable and with practical parts, DOORWAYS, COTTAGE WINDOWS, STAIRWAYS, BALUSTRADES, SLEIGHS, BOATS, VASES, ETC., ETC., in profile. _No extra charge to parties who furnish their own designs. Samples free._ W. F. ASHE, 106 BLEECKER STREET, NEW YORK CITY. THE MOUND CITY CENTRAL Photographic Stock House, (H. A. HYATT, Proprietor), NO. 411 NORTH 4th STREET, ST. LOUIS, MO. Head-quarters in St. Louis for ALL Photographers. We keep on hand everything new and of interest to the Fraternity, to be seen and examined at pleasure. Our stock is always complete and in keeping with the times. It embraces, with the LARGE and VARIED assortment of GENERAL PHOTOGRAPHIC REQUISITES, the following STANDARD BRANDS OF ALBUMEN PAPER, which you can always depend upon getting FRESH _Hovey's, Peerless, Eagle Brand (Dresden), S. & M. Dresden, Morgan's, Clemons, Trapp & Munch_, --ALSO-- _Plain and Salted Papers._ We carry the Standard Brands _only_. There is _no_ Extra we cannot duplicate with some REGULAR BRAND. Please remember this, and if you desire fair treatment, and low prices, just send us a trial order, note how _promptly_ we serve you, and the _quality_ of _goods_ you receive, and we will be assured of your future favors. Our Motto is to _please_, and we guarantee satisfaction. _--OUTFITS A SPECIALTY.--_ Send for Illustrated Catalogue. H. A. HYATT, 411 North 4th Street, St. Louis, Mo. _Jno. G. Hood. ESTABLISHED 1865. Wm. D. H. Wilson._ WILSON, HOOD & CO., _No. 825 ARCH ST._, PHILADELPHIA, Deal in all varieties of PHOTO. GOODS, And solicit your orders, for any article you may need, including the following: _S. & M., N. P. A., & C. S. Double Alb. Paper, per ream, 35 cts. " " " Single " " 25 " Morgan's Double Alb. Paper, " 34 " " Single " " 30 "_ _All other brands supplied. Magee's Nitrate Silver, Magee's Chloride of Gold, Best Hypo. of Soda, keg 112 lbs. $4 48, American Optical Co. Printing Frames, American Optical Co. Negative Boxes, American Optical Co. Retouching Frames, Negative Racks, Pans, Trays, etc., Waymouth's Vignette Papers, $1 00 per pack, Onion Skin Paper, per dozen, 25 cts. Singhi's Vig. Attachment, $1 50. Todd's Vig. Attachment, $1 50._ "Hearn's Artistic Printing" $3 00. "Hearn's Practical Printer" $2 50. _COMPLETE PRICE-LISTS FREE._ SOLE AGENTS IN UNITED STATES FOR THE ROSS AND STEINHEIL LENSES. 1878 EAGLE STOCK HOUSE. 1881 GEORGE MURPHY, No. 9 West Fourth Street, N. Y. Photo. & Ferro. Materials. _OUTFITS A SPECIALTY._ All Goods sold for Cash. MANUFACTURER OF _Eagle Negative and Positive Collodions, Eagle Negative and Ferro. Varnishes, Eagle Retouching Fluid, Eagle Ground Glass Varnish._ SOLE AGENT FOR _Hammenstede's Collodions and Varnishes, Photo. Chemicals of best quality._ THE RETOUCHER'S OUTFIT: _Eagle New Metallic Pencil, hard, Eagle New Metallic Pencil, soft, Medium Siberian Lead, Artists' Holder, to fit all_, The most complete set offered. FOR THE PRINTER'S DEPARTMENT _is offered Eagle Photo-Printing Masks, English White Tissue Paper, Thick Yellow Paper, Onion-Skin Paper, Heavy Blotting Paper, Plain Papers, Albumen Papers of all brands_. Am also Agent for BRENGEL'S SALTED PAPER. _Emulsion and Gelatine Dry Plate Materials, Emulsion and Gelatine Dry Plates, best brands, Backgrounds, Chairs, Accessories, etc._ _Bargains in Card Stock. Bargains in Apparatus, Lenses, etc._ Domestic and Foreign CASH ORDERS Shipped Promptly. Four Doors West of B'way. NEW YORK. _ESTABLISHED IN 1802._ FACTORIES: Waterbury, Conn., New Haven, Conn., New York City. Scovill Manufacturing Co., MANUFACTURERS AND DEALERS IN ALL ARTICLES USED IN PHOTOGRAPHY, Warehouse, No's 419 & 421 Broome St., NEW YORK. W. Irving Adams, Agent. Irving and all brands of Albumen Papers, Phenix Collodion, Phenix Varnish. French and other Chemicals. Scovill's New Solid Glass Baths, [warranted.] Osborne's Picturesque Foregrounds, American Optical Co's Celebrated Cameras, Dry Plates and Dry Plate Apparatus, Lenses, Parlor Paste, Etc., Etc., Etc., Etc. PUBLISHERS Photographic Times and American Photographer. Subscription price, $2 00 per annum. Among its contributors are the leading men in the profession. [FOUNDED IN 1842.] THE NEW ENGLAND Photographic Stock House. Largest variety in the UNITED STATES. Every Article required by the Amateur, Photographer, Picture and Frame Dealer, Frame Maker and Crayon Artist. SPECIALTIES. _Original Importers of Imitation Dallmeyer Tubes. Sole Agents for William's Mitering Machines. N. E. Agents for Bryant's Accessories. Sole Agents for the celebrated "Berlin Paper." Sole Agents for the celebrated "Gem Paper." Sole Agents for Burrill's Portrait Bust Pedestal. Sole Agent for Burrill's Neg. High Light Reducer. Bryant's Quick Collodion, Celebrated for Years._ _Dry Plate Outfits for Amateurs._ _Every Variety Dry Plate Apparatus and Materials. Anthony's and American Optical Co's Manufactures. Dallmeyer, Morrison and Voigtlander Tubes on Sale._ C. H. CODMAN & CO., [Formerly GEO. S. BRYANT & CO.,] 34 Bromfield St., BOSTON. ANTHONY'S DRY PLATE OUTFITS _Most Complete Assortment in Market._ [Illustration] LIGHT, PORTABLE AND INEXPENSIVE. FIRM, SUBSTANTIAL AND PRACTICAL. _The Lenses supplied with these are superior to those furnished by Any other House. Send for Descriptive Circular._ Anthony's Patent Perfect Dry Plate-holder BEST IN THE WORLD! _E. & H. T. ANTHONY & CO. 591 B'way, NEW YORK._ FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: Such things as test-tubes should be found in every photographer's work room; they cost little, and are always useful for working solutions. The sizes recommended are 3/8-inch, 1/2-inch, and 1-inch diameter. A dozen of each will not be out of the way.] [Footnote 2: Sodium Silver Silver Sodium Chloride and Nitrate form Chloride and Nitrate. NaCl + AgNO_{3} = AgCl + NaNO_{3}] [Footnote 3: Potassium Chlorine and Nitrite and Water 2Cl + KNO_{2} + H_{2}O give Hydrochloric Potassium Acid and Nitrate 2HCl + KNO_{3} and Silver Chlorine, Nitrate, and Water 2Cl + AgNO_{3} + H_{2}O give Silver Hydrochlorous Nitric Chloride, Acid and Acid. AgCl + HClO + HNO_{3}] [Footnote 4: With the former we have this action-- Silver Silver Liberated Chloride gives Sub-chloride and Chloride. Ag_{2}Cl_{2} = Ag_{2}Cl + Cl With the latter the silver in combination with the organic matter, which is in a state of oxide, is probably reduced to the state of sub-oxide.] [Footnote 5: Sulphuretted hydrogen may be prepared by pouring dilute sulphuric acid on ferric sulphide. The chloride or the silver compound, when damped, may be held over it, taking care that no liquid is spirted up on to it.] [Footnote 6: Those who prepare collodio-albumen plates will find the upward filtration arrangement of immense value, as bubbles are unknown by it.] [Footnote 7: If bubbles are seen, they must be broken, and the sheet floated again for another minute.] [Footnote 8: The drainings are added to the next batch of albumen which is prepared.] [Footnote 9: "Instruction in Photography," 4th edition, page 121.] [Footnote 10: Hydrochloric Chlorine and Water give acid and Oxygen. Cl + H_{2}O = HCl + O] [Footnote 11: Nitric Silver Silver Carbonic Acid and Carbonate give Nitrate and Acid and Water. 2HNO_{3} + Ag_{2}CO_{3} = 2AgNO_{3} + CO_{2} + H_{2}O] [Footnote 12: Silver Aluminium Nitrate and Sulphate (Alum) 6AgNO_{3} + Al_{2}(SO_{4})_{3} give Silver Aluminium Sulphate and Nitrate. 3(Ag_{2}SO_{4}) + 2Al(NO_{2})_{3}] [Footnote 13: Silver Hydrochloric Silver Nitrate and Acid give Chloride and Nitric Acid. AgNO_{3} + HCl = AgCl + HNO_{3}] [Footnote 14: Suppose it is salted with ammonium chloride, we have-- Ammonium Silver Ammonium Silver Chloride and Nitrate give Nitrate and Chloride. NH_{4}Cl + AgNO_{3} = NH_{4}NO_{3} + AgCl] [Footnote 15: Several other methods are given in "Instruction in Photography," in the Appendix.] [Footnote 16: One part of nitric acid to 4 parts of water.] [Footnote 17: The shutter may be made of American leather, covered over with one quarter-inch strips of oak or well-seasoned pine. The shutter should fit into a groove formed along the sides and bottom of the front of the cupboard.] [Footnote 18: In fig. 18 the fastening for only one of the pressure-bars is given, to avoid complication.] [Footnote 19: See "Instruction in Photography" (page 67), fourth edition.] [Footnote 20: For this reason, amongst others, it is desirable that photographers should use glass for their negatives which is at least tolerably flat.] [Footnote 21: See "Pictorial Effect in Photography" (Piper and Carter).] [Footnote 22: Hydrofluoric acid is always supplied by chemists in gutta-percha bottles, as it attacks glass. A spare gutta-percha bottle can easily be procured.] [Footnote 23: This calculation is near enough for our purpose. There are certain niceties which might be introduced, such as the "critical angle of the glass."] [Footnote 24: The boxes in which children's puzzles are often packed will give an idea of what is meant.] [Footnote 25: Silver subchloride and gold trichloride 3Ag_{2}Cl + AuCl_{3} give silver chloride and gold. 6AgCl + Au] [Footnote 26: "Instruction in Photography," 4th edition.] [Footnote 27: "Instruction in Photography," 4th edition.] [Footnote 28: Or ten minims of ammonium lactate.] [Footnote 29: See Mr. W. Brooks' article in Photographic Almanac, 1881.] [Footnote 30: The crucible should be of Stourbridge clay.] Transcriber's Note: Hyphenation, variations in spelling and inconsistent numbering of, and references to, figures have been retained as in the original publication. Apart from spaces within compounds (which have been removed), formulae have been retained as originally published, excepted where noted below. On page 81, symbols resembling the left- and right-hand corners of a frame have been represented as |_ and _| as in varnish, thus |_ _|; Changes have been made as follows: Page 3 Nitric Acid _changed to_ Potassium Nitrate Page 6 If the operator carefully collect the white _changed to_ If the operator carefully collects the white Page 14 theoretical limit to amount _changed to_ theoretical limit to the amount Page 19 2AGNO_{3} _changed to_ 2AgNO_{3} Nitratem _changed to_ Nitrate. Page 22 AgNo_{3} _changed to_ AgNO_{3} Page 23 Ammonium Nitrate Silver Chloride _changed to_ Ammonium Nitrate and Silver Chloride NH_{4},NO_{3} _changed to_ NH_{4}NO_{3} AgNo_{3} _changed to_ AgNO_{3} Page 40 8 inches. _changed to_ 18 inches. Page 41 printer could not hope to do it successfully. _changed to_ printer could not hope to do it successfully." Page 46 the ordinary consistency, than _changed to_ the ordinary consistency, then Page 49 enable the operator to guage _changed to_ enable the operator to gauge Page 53 centreing his imagination in _changed to_ centring his imagination in Page 64 light on B would be only four twenty-fifths _changed to_ light on B would be only four-twenty-fifths Page 65 and cut out an aperature corresponding _changed to_ and cut out an aperture corresponding Page 66 at a proper heigth from _changed to_ at a proper height from Page 69 Having discribed in the last _changed to_ Having described in the last Page 70 as it sometimes called _changed to_ as it is sometimes called Page 71 and the effect be improved.. _changed to_ and the effect be improved. Page 83 If he find that he is not _changed to_ If he finds that he is not Page 87 so dilute the reduction takes places very slowly _changed to_ so dilute the reduction takes place very slowly Page 88 common desinfecting powder _changed to_ common disinfecting powder it as as well to have two _changed to_ it is as well to have two Page 90 a littler acetic acid or common salt _changed to_ a little acetic acid or common salt Page 91 must be rememberd we are _changed to_ must be remembered we are Page 92 when the sodium hypsulphite is _changed to_ when the sodium hyposulphite is Page 95 and, with a squegee _changed to_ and, with a squeegee Page 101 floated on-- _changed to_ floated on:-- Last page of advertisements BEST IN THE WORD! _changed to_ BEST IN THE WORLD! 
63517	----	provided on The Internet Archive. All resultant materials are placed in the Public Domain. Transcriber Note Text emphasis is denoted as _Italic_ and =Bold=. Whole and fractional parts of numbers as 123-4/5. HUMPHREY'S JOURNAL OF THE DAGUERREOTYPE AND PHOTOGRAPHIC ARTS. ~~~~~~~~~~ The above-named Publication is well known as the best and most valuable one devoted to the Photographic Science in this country. Humphrey's Journal made its first appearance Nov. 1st, 1850, and consequently is the first and oldest serial offered to the Photographic world. The art of producing Portraits and Landscapes by means of Light has recently taken a new and enlivening impulse, which will in all probability lead to important and interesting results. No practical Daguerreotypist, Photographer, or amateur should be without the means at hand for securing all of the information upon this subject. Each should be ready to receive and apply the improvements as they may be developed. In order to accomplish this, it is a matter of great importance to the Practitioner or Experimenter that he should have a _reliable_ medium through which he can obtain _information_. In what source can the inquirer better place his confidence than in a regular Journal, whose editor is literally a _practical_ person, and familiar with the manipulations necessary for producing Portraits upon "_Daguerreotype Plates_," and upon glass and paper? Such is the conductor of Humphrey's Journal. This Journal is published once every two weeks, and contains all the improvements relating to the Art, and is the only American Journal whose editor is _practically acquainted_ with the process for producing _Daguerreotypes_. _Ambrotypes_, and _Photographs_ The first No. of Vol. VIII is dated May 1st, 1856. The terms (Two Dollars per annum) are trifling compared with the vast amount of information furnished. There are several societies recently established in Europe composed of learned and scientific men, who are in every way engaged in investigating the Science, and we may look for improvement from that quarter, as well as from our numerous resources at home. In the former case our facilities for early and reliable information cannot well be surpassed. Ambrotypes.--_Humphrey's Journal_ contains everything novel which appears upon this subject, and has already presented more new, important; and original matter than can be found in any other place. Many are the letters we have received during the term of the last volume, in which the writer has stated that a single number of Humphrey's Journal has contained information of more value to him than "several times the amount paid for the entire volume." Our resources have grown up around us, and our facilities for procuring, as well as distributing, all such facts and improvements as will benefit as well as instruct all who have the progress of the Art at heart, are as ample as they can well be made. The future volumes will be abundantly furnished with original writings from persons of standing in the scientific world; and the practical Photographer will here find a full account of such improvements as may from time to time develope themselves. From the Editor's long practical experience in the Heliographic Science, he will be enabled to present the subject in a plain, clear and concise manner. Read what the Editors say of Humphrey's Journal:-- "We have received a copy of a valuable Journal (Humphrey's) published in New York, which has reached the 18th number of Vol. VI. ... We now have the pleasure of quoting from our transatlantic coadjutor."--_Liverpool Photographic Jour._ "Humphrey's Journal is practical as Well as scientific in character."--_American Journal of Science and Arts._ "It treats the subject knowingly, and with force."--_New York Tribune._ "It is both a popular and interesting publication."--_Mechanics' Magazine._ "It is highly useful to all who practice 'shadow catching.'"--_Ohio State Journal._ "The work is neatly gotten up, and contains many interesting varieties in this new field of science."--_Times._ "It should be hailed and encouraged, not only by Daguerreotypists themselves, but by every lover of Science and Art."--_The Democrat._ "We cannot too strongly urge all artists, and those persons who feel an interest in the Heliographic Arts and Sciences, to take a copy of the work."--_Sentinel._ "It is indicative of talent worthy of the important Art it is designed to elevate."--_American._ "This Art is entitled to its own organ, which could not have fallen into better hands than those of the editor of Humphrey's Journal."--_Transcript._ "It is a scientific work of interest and usefulness."--_Star of the North._ "This Journal answers many points heretofore regarded as inexplicable."--_Hudson River Chronicle._ "It is rich with interest."--_North American._ "It contains all the 'Improvements.'"--_Delta._ "It teaches us how to take our own portraits."--_Bee._ "It will cultivate a taste for Daguerreotypes."--_Commercial Advertiser._ "It should be in the hands of all."--_Reveille._ "It is the Daguerreotypist's friend."--_London News._ "It should be found in every library."--_Evening Journal._ _From some of our old subscribers._ "Humphrey's Journal has been the means of saving much time and money, for by its instruction I have been enabled to produce some of the finest Paper Pictures I have ever seen." 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Subscription price Two Dollars per year. Don't fail to become a subscriber. Address =S. D, HUMPHREY,= NEW YORK. [_Office, 37 Lispenard Street_] A PRACTICAL MANUAL OF THE COLLODION PROCESS, GIVING IN DETAIL A METHOD FOR PRODUCING POSITIVE AND NEGATIVE =Pictures on Glass and Paper.= AMBROTYPES. PRINTING PROCESS. ALSO, PATENTS FOR THE COLLODION PROCESSES; MELAINOTYPES--PHOTOGRAPHS IN OIL--ALBUMENIZED COLLODION--CUTTING'S PATENTS AND CORRESPONDENCE.--SPECIFICATION'S OF ALL THE FOREGOING, GIVING EACH PROCESS ENTIRE. THIRD EDITION, REVISED AND GREATLY ENLARGED. By S. D. HUMPHREY. NEW YORK: HUMPHREY'S JOURNAL PRINT, 37 LISPENARD STREET. 1857. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by S. D. HUMPHREY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. ~~~~~~~~~~ The rapid and unexpected sale of the entire second edition of this Manual has induced the author to lay the Third Edition before the Public. Although but little time has elapsed since the second, yet there have been some new developments which it has been thought best to give, as conducive to the interests of the practitioner. The manipulations have been given somewhat more in detail than in the Second Edition. All that would have a tendency to confuse the reader has been carefully avoided, and only the plain methods for operating laid down. The work is intended for the beginner in the glass process of producing Heliographic pictures. S. D. H. New York, _February 1st, 1857_. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. ~~~~~~~~~~ The object of this little Manual is to present, in as plain, clear and concise a manner as possible, the _practice_ of a Collodion Process. This beautiful acquisition to a "sun-pencilling" was first given to the public by Mr. Frederick Scott Archer, an English gentleman, who alone is entitled to the credit, and deserves the esteem of every lover and practitioner of the Art, for his liberality in _giving_ it to the world. The Process here presented has never before appeared in print, and has been practised with the most eminent success by those who have been enabled to adopt it. All reference to the various systems or methods of manipulation, by the thousands of practitioners, has been excluded, and one Process given. I conceived that this was the better plan to adopt, thus leaving the mind of the learner free from confusion, and pointing out one course, which, if carefully followed, will produce good and pleasing results. I have also presented a list of all Patents upon the Collodion Process; this will give all an opportunity of choosing their own course in regard to the respect they may conceive to be due to such Patent Rights. S. D. H. CONTENTS. ~~~~~~~~~~ PART I. CHAPTER I. Introduction--Light--Solar Spectrum--Decomposition of Light--Light--Heat and Actinism--Blue Paper and Color for the Walls of the Operating Room--Proportions of Light, Heat and Actinism composing a Sunbeam--Refraction--Reflection--Lenses--Copying--Spherical Aberration--Chromatic Aberration 13 CHAPTER II. Camera--Arrangement of Lenses--Camera Tubes--Camera Boxes, Bellows, and Copying--Camera Stands--Head Rests--Cleaning Vice--Nitrate Bath--Leveling Stands--Printing Frames--Collodion Vials 26 PART II. =Practical Hints on Photographic Chemistry.= CHAPTER III. Soluble Cotton--Manipulation--Plain Collodion--Bromo-Iodized Collodion for Positives--Ditto for Negatives--Solution of Bromide and Iodide of Potassium and Silver--Double Iodide of Potassium and Silver--Developing Solution--Fixing the Solution--Brightening and Finishing the Image--Photographic Chemicals 41 PART III. =Practical Details of the Positive or Ambrotype Process.= CHAPTER IV. Lewis's Patent Vices for Holding the Glass--Cleaning and Drying the Glass--Coating--Exposure in the Camera--Developing--Fixing or Brightening--Backing up, &c. 129 PART IV. =Practical Details of the Negative Process.= CHAPTER V. Negative Process--Soluble Cotton--Plain Collodion--Developing Solution--Re-Developing Solution--Fixing the Image--Finishing the Image--Nitrate of Silver Bath 143 PART V. =Practical Details of the Printing Process.= CHAPTER VI. Printing Process--Salting Paper--Silvering Paper--Printing the Positive--Fixing and Coloring Bath--Mounting the Positive--Facts worth Knowing 151 CHAPTER VII. Helio Process.--An Entire Process for Producing Collodion Positives and Negatives with one Bath, and in much less time than by any other known Process: by Helio--Photographic Patents 164 CHAPTER VIII. The Collodio-Albumen Process in Detail 190 CHAPTER IX. On a Mode of Printing Enlarged and Reduced Positives, Transparencies, &c., from Collodion Negatives--On the Use of Alcohol for Sensitizing Paper--Recovery of Silver from Waste Solutions,--from the Black Deposit of Hypo Baths, &c.--The Salting and Albumenizing Paper--On the Use of Test Papers--Comparison of British and French Weights and Measures 191 CHAPTER I. LIGHT--SOLAR SPECTRUM--DECOMPOSITION OF LIGHT--LIGHT, HEAT AND ACTINISM--BLUE PAPER AND COLOR FOR THE WALLS OF THE OPERATING ROOM--PROPORTIONS OF LIGHT, HEAT AND ACTINISM, COMPOSING A SUN-BEAM--REFRACTION--REFLECTION--LENSES--COPYING--SPHERICAL ABERRATION--CHROMATIC ABERRATION. It has been well observed by an able writer, that it is Impossible to trace the path of a sunbeam through our atmosphere without feeling a desire to know its nature, by what power it traverses the immensity of space, and the Various modifications it undergoes at the surfaces and the interior of terrestrial substances. Light is white and colorless, as long as it does not come in contact with matter. When in apposition with anybody it suffers variable degrees of decomposition, resulting in color, as, by reflection, dispersion, refraction and unequal absorption. To Sir I. Newton the world is indebted for proving the compound nature of a ray of white light emitted from the sun. The object of this work is not to engage in an extended theory upon the subject of light, but to recur only to some points-of more particular interest to the photographic operator. [Sidenote: PRISM, SOLAR SPECTRUM.] The decomposition of a beam of light can be noticed by exposing it to a prism. If, in a dark room, a beam of light be admitted through a small hole in a shutter 7 it will form a white round spot upon the place where it falls. If a triangular prism of glass be placed on the inside of the dark room, so that the beam of light falls upon it, it no longer has the same direction, nor does it form a round spot, but an oblong painted image of seven colors--red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. This is called the solar spectrum, and will be readily understood by reference to the accompanying diagram, Fig. 1. [Illustration: Fig. 1.] To those who are unacquainted with the theory of light (and for their benefit this chapter is given), it may be a matter of wonder how a beam of light can be divided. This can be understood when I say, that white light is a bundle of colored rays united together, and when so incorporated, they are colorless; but in passing _through_ the prism the bond of union is severed, and the colored rays come out _singly_ and _separately_, because each ray has a certain amount of refracting (bending) power, peculiar to itself. These rays always hold the same relation to each other, as may be seen by comparing every spectrum or rainbow; there is never any confusion or misplacement. There are various other means of decomposing white light besides the prism, of which one of the principal and most interesting to the photographer, is by _reflection_ from colored bodies. If a beam of white light falls upon a white surface, it is reflected without change; but if it falls upon a _red_ surface, only the red ray is reflected: so also with yellow and other colors; the ray which is reflected corresponds with the color of the object. It is this reflected decomposed light which presents the beautifully colored image we see upon the ground glass in our cameras. [Sidenote: LIGHT, HEAT, AND ACTINISM.] A sunbeam may be capable of three divisions--light, heat, and actinism; the last causes all the chemical changes, and is the acting power upon surfaces prepared to receive the photographic image. The accompanying illustration, Fig. 2, will readily bring to the minds of the reader the relation of these one to another, and their intensities in the different parts of a decomposed sunbeam. [Illustration: Fig. 2.] The various points of the solar spectrum are represented in the order in which they occur between A and B, this exhibits the limits of the Newtonian spectrum, corresponding with Fig. 1. Sir John Herschel and Seebeck have shown that there exists, beyond the violet, a faint violet light, or rather a _lavender_, to _b_, which gradually becomes colorless; similarly, red light exists beyond the assigned limits of the red ray to _a_. The greatest amount of actinic power is shown at E opposite the violet; hence this color "exerts" the greatest amount of influence in the formation of the photographic image. [Sidenote: COLORING WALLS BLUE.] (Blue paper and blue color have been somewhat extensively used by our operators in their operating rooms and skylights, in order to facilitate the operation in the camera. I fancy, however, that this plan cannot be productive of as much good as thought by some, from the fact, that the light falling upon the subject, and then reflected into the camera, is, coming through colorless glass, not affected by such rays as may be reflected from the walls of the operating room; and even if it were so, I conceive that it would be injurious, by destroying the harmony of Shadows which might otherwise occur.) The greatest amount of white light is at C; the yellow contains less of the chemical power than any Other portion of the solar Spectrum. It has been found that the most intense heat is at the _Extreme Red_, _b_. Artificial lights differ in their color; the white light of turning charcoal, which is the principal light from candles, oil and gas, contains three fays--red, yellow and blue. The dazzling light emitted from lime intensely heated, known as the _Drummond light_, gives the color of the prism almost as bright as the solar spectrum. [Sidenote: LIGHT, HEAT, AND CHEMICAL POWER.] If we expose a prepared collodionized plate or sensitive paper to the solar spectrum, it will be observed that the luminous power (the yellow) occupies but a small space compared with the influence of heat and chemical power. R. Hunt, in his _Researches on Light_, has presented the following remarks upon the accompanying illustration:-- [Illustration: Fig. 3.] "If the linear measure, or the diameter of a circle which shall include the luminous rays, is 25, that of the calorific spectrum will be 42·10, and of the chemical spectrum 55·10. Such a series of circles may well be used to represent a beam from the sun, which may be regarded as an atom of _Light_ surrounded with an invisible atmosphere of _Heat_, and another still more extended, which possesses the remarkable property of producing chemical and molecular change." [Sidenote: REFRACTION.] A ray of light, in passing obliquely through any medium of uniform density, does not change its course; but if it should pass into a denser body, it would turn from a straight line, pursue a less oblique direction, and in a line nearer to a perpendicular to the surface of that body. Water exerts a stronger refracting power than air; and if a ray of light fall upon a body of this fluid its course is changed, as may be seen by reference to Fig. 4. It is observed that it proceeds in a less oblique direction (towards the dotted line), and, on passing on through, leaves the liquid, proceeding in a line parallel to that which it entered. It should be observed, that at the _surface_ of bodies the refractive power is exerted, and that the light proceeds in a straight line until leaving the body. The refraction is more or less, and in all cases in proportion as the rays fall more or less obliquely on the refracting surface. It is this law of optics which has given rise to the lenses in our camera tubes, by which means we are enabled to secure a well-delineated representation of any object we choose to picture. [Illustration: Fig. 4.] When a ray of light passes from one medium to another, and through that into the first again, if the two refractions be equal, and in opposite directions, no sensible effect will be produced. [Sidenote: REFRACTION, LENSES, FOCUS.] The reader may readily comprehend the phenomena of refraction, by means of light passing through lenses of different curves, by reference to the following diagrams:-- [Illustration: Fig. 5. Fig 6. Fig. 7.] Fig. 5 representing a double-convex lens, Fig. 6 a double-concave, and Fig. 7 a concavo-convex or meniscus. By these it is seen that a double-convex lens tends to condense the rays of light to a focus, a double-concave to scatter them, and a concavo-convex combines both powers. [Sidenote: ENLARGING OR REDUCING IN COPYING.] [Illustration: Fig. 8.] [Illustration: Fig. 9.] If parallel rays of light fall upon a double-convex lens, D D, Fig. 8, they will be refracted (excepting such as pass directly through the centre) to a point termed the principal focus. The lines A B C represent parallel rays which pass through the lens D D, and meet at F; this point being the principal focus, its distance from the lens is called the _focal length_. Those rays of light which are traversing a _parallel_ course, when they enter the lens are brought to a focus nearer the lens than others. Hence the difficulty the operator sometimes experiences by not being able to "obtain a focus," when he wishes to secure a picture of some very distant objects; he does not get his _ground glass near enough to the lenses_. Again, the rays from an object near by may be termed diverging rays. This will be better comprehended by reference to Fig. 9, where it will be seen that the dotted lines, representing parallel rays meet nearer the lenses than those from the point A. The closer the object is to the lenses, the greater will be the divergence. This rule is applicable to copying, Did we wish to copy a 1/6 size daguerreotype on a 1/16 size plate, we would place it in such a position to the lenses at A, that the focus would be at F, where the image would be represented at about the proper size. Now, if we should wish to copy the 1/6 size picture, and produce another of exactly the same dimensions, we have only to bring it nearer to the lenses, so that the lens D E shall be equi-distant from the picture and the focus, _i. e._ from A to B. The reason of this is, that the distance of the picture from the lens, in the last copy, is less than the other, and the divergence has increased, throwing the focus further from the lens. These remarks have been introduced here as being important for those who may not understand the principles of enlarging or reducing pictures in copying. [Sidenote: LENSES.] I would remark that the points F and A, in Fig. 9, are termed "conjugate foci." If we hold a double-convex lens opposite any object, we find that an inverted image of that object will be formed on a paper held behind it. To illustrate this more clearly, I will refer to the following wood-cut:-- [Illustration: Fig. 10.] "If A B C is an object placed before a convex lens, L L, every point of it will send forth rays in all directions; but, for the sake of simplicity, suppose only three points to give out rays, one at the top, one at the middle, and one at the bottom; the whole of the rays then that proceed from the point A, and fall on the lens L L, will be refracted and form an image somewhere on the line A G E, which is drawn direct through the centre of the lens; consequently the focus E, produced by the convergence of the rays proceeding from A, must form an image of A, only in a different relative position; the middle point of C, being in a direct line with the axis of the lens, will have its image formed on the axis F, and the rays proceeding from the point B will form an image at D; so that by imagining luminous objects to be made up of an infinite number of radiating points, and the rays from each individual point, although falling on the whole surface of the lens, to converge again and form a focus or representation of that point from which the rays first emerged, it will be very easy to comprehend how images are formed, and the cause of those images being reversed. "It must also be evident, that in the two triangles A G B and D G E, that E D, the length of the image, must be to A B, the length of the object, as G D, the distance of the image, is to G B, the distance of the object from the lens." [Sidenote: SPHERICAL ABERRATION.] It will be observed, that in the last cut the image produced by the lens is curved. Now, it would be impossible to produce a well-defined image from the centre to the edge upon a _plain_ surface; the outer edges would be misty, indistinct, or crayon-like. The centre of the image might be represented clear and sharp on the ground glass, yet this would be far from the case in regard to the outer portions. This is called _spherical aberration_, and to it is due the want of distinctness which is frequently noticed around the edges of pictures taken in the camera. To secure a camera with a _flat, sharp field_, should be the object of every Operator; and, in a measure, this constitutes the great difference in cameras manufactured in this country. Spherical aberration is overcome by proper care in the formation of the lens:--"It can be shown upon mathematical data that a lens similar to that given in the following diagram--one surface of which is a section of an ellipse, and the other of a circle struck from the furthest of the two foci of that ellipse--produces no aberration. "At the earliest period of the employment of the camera obscura, a _double-convex_ lens was used to produce the image; but this form was soon abandoned, on account of the spherical aberration so caused. Lenses for the photographic camera are now always ground of a concavo-convex form, or meniscus, which corresponds more nearly to the accompanying diagram." [Illustration: Fig. 11.] [Sidenote: CHROMATIC ABERRATION.] _Chromatic Aberration_ is another difficulty that opticians have to contend with in the manufacturing of lenses. It will be remembered, that in a former page (14) a beam of light is decomposed by passing through a glass prism giving seven distinct colors--_red_, _orange_, _yellow_, _green_, _blue_, _indigo_ and _violet_. Now, as has been said before, the dissimilar rays having an unequal degree of refrangibility, it will be impossible to obtain a focus by the light passing through a double-convex lens without its being fringed with color. Its effect will be readily understood by reference to the accompanying cut. [Illustration: Fig. 12.] If L L be a double convex-lens, and R R R parallel rays of white light, composed of the seven colored rays, each having a different _index_ of refraction, they cannot be refracted to one and the same point; the red rays, being the least refrangible, will be bent to _r_, and the violet rays, being the most refrangible, to _v_: the distance _v r_ constitutes the chromatic aberration, and the circle, of which the diameter is _a l_, the place or point of mean refraction, and is called the circle of least aberration. If the rays of the sun are refracted by means of a lens, and the image received on a screen placed between C and _o_, so as to cut the cone L _a l_ L, a luminous circle will be formed on the paper, only surrounded by a red border, because it is produced by a section of the cone L _a l_ L, of which the external rays L _a_ L _l_, are red; if the screen be moved to the other side of _o_, the luminous circle will be bordered with violet, because it will be a section of the cone M _a_ M _l_, of which the exterior rays are violet. To avoid the influence of spherical aberration, and to render the phenomena of coloration more evident, let an opaque disc be placed over the central portion of the lens, so as to allow the rays only to pass which are at the edge of the glass; a violet image of the sun will then be seen at _v_, red at _r_, and, finally, images of all the colors of the spectrum in the intermediate space; consequently, the general image will not only be confused, but clothed with prismatic colors. To overcome the difficulty arising from the chromatic aberration, the optician has only to employ a combination of lenses of opposite focal length, and cut from glass possessing different refrangible powers, so that the rays of light passing through the one are strongly refracted, and in the other are bent asunder again, reproducing white light. To the photographer one of the most important features, requiring his particular attention, is, that he be provided with a good lens. By the remarks given in the preceding pages, he will be enabled, in a measure, to judge of some of the difficulties to which he is _occasionally_ subjected. We have in this country but two or three individuals who are giving their attention to the manufacture of lenses, and their construction is such, that they are quite free from the _spherical_ or _chromatic aberration_. CHAPTER II. CAMERA--ARRANGEMENT OF LENSES--CAMERA TUBES--CAMERA-BOXES, BELLOWS, AND COPYING--CAMERA STANDS--HEAD RESTS--CLEANING VICE--NITRATE BATH--LEVELING STANDS--PRINTING FRAMES--COLLODION VIALS. Babtista Porta, when he saw for the first time, on the walls of his dark chamber, the images of external nature, pictured by a sunbeam which found its way through only a small hole, little thought of the importance which would be attached to the instrument he was, from this cause, led to invent. The camera obscura of this Italian philosopher remained as a mere scientific toy for years, and it was not until Daguerre's discovery that its true value was estimated. It now plays a very important part in giving employment to at least _ten thousand persons_ in this country alone. It is of the utmost importance, in selecting a set of apparatus, to secure a good camera; for without such no one can obtain fine pictures. In testing it, see that it gives the pupil of the eye and lineaments of the features sharp and distinct; and that the whole image on the ground glass has a fine pearly hue. Look also to the field, and observe that the focus is good at the centre and extreme edges of the ground glass, at the same time. A poor camera generally gives a misty image, with the lights and shades apparently running together. The best American cameras are fully equal to those imported, while they cost much less; but there are great numbers sold which are not worth using. [Sidenote: CAMERA TUBES AND LENSES.] If a lens gives a well defined image on the ground glass, it should do the same on the plate. Many a valuable lens has been condemned for failing in this, merely in consequence of the plate-holder not being in focus with the ground-glass. In case of deficiency in this, put a glass into the holder, lay a rule across the face, and measure the distance between them very exactly; measure the ground-glass in the same way, and make the distance agree perfectly, by moving the ground-glass either back or forward in the frame, as the case may be, so that the surface of the glass plate shall occupy precisely the same position as the face of the ground-glass when in the camera. [Illustration: Fig. 13. Fig. 14.] [Sidenote: POSITION OF LENSES IN THE TUBE.] It is very desirable that the operator should understand the arrangement of the lenses in the tube; it not unfrequently happens, that in taking out the "glasses" to clean them, he does not return them to their proper places, and the result is that his "camera is spoiled." A couple of illustrations and a few remarks will be sufficient to enable any one to replace the lenses in them properly. Fig. 13 represents the tube for holding the lens, and Fig. 14 shows their arrangement. It will be seen that the two back lenses have a small space between them; this separation is kept by a small tube or ring of the same circumference as the lens. The two front lenses are nearest together. It will be observed that the two thick lenses are towards each other; these are made of _flint glass_ containing much oxide of lead. The other two are double convex, and are made of _crown glass_. By noting the fact that the two cemented lenses go in the front of the tube, the glass having the thickest edge goes inside, and that the _thickest lens_ of the other two goes in first, from the back of the tube, it will not be easy for the operator to make a mistake in returning the "glasses." "I will remark that a diaphragm diminishes both chromatic and spherical aberration, by cutting off the outside portion of the lens. It lessens the brilliancy of the image, but improves the distinctness by preventing various rays from interfering with and confusing each other; it also causes a variety of objects at different distances to be in focus at the same time." [Illustration: Fig. 15.] [Sidenote: CAMERA BOXES.] The tube containing the lenses is to be mounted on a box (camera-box) as in Fig. 15. For this purpose there are several patterns of boxes, from among which I have made two selections of the most approved, and represent them by cuts, Figs. 16, 17, 18. [Illustration: Fig. 16.] [Illustration: Fig. 17.] Figs. 16 and 17 represent a bellows-box which is probably more in use than all the other patterns together. They serve both for copying and taking portraits from life. A is the base; B is the back and _sliding_-box; C, bellows, which admits of extension or contraction; D is the opening to receive the carriage A, Fig. 17; E is a thumb screw to hold the sliding-box at any required distance. Fig. 17 represents the plate-holder and ground glass frame. A, carriage to pass through D, Fig. 16; B, frame for ground-glass, which may be turned in a horizontal or perpendicular position; C, a movable plate-holder held in place by means of springs; D, reducing holder, with bottom and plate to hold the glass plate: any size of reducing frame can be put in frame C; E E, spring bottom to keep frame D in place; F, slide; G, thumb-screw, when the carriage is to be put in or taken out of the box, Fig 16; H H, spring bottom to hold B in place. Bellows-boxes can be obtained which receive the plate-holder from the top, the same as in the copying-box, Figs. 15 and 18. The common wood, or "copying-box," is represented by Fig. 18. [Illustration: Fig 18.] A, being the main or outside box, is made of wood veneered with rosewood; B is another box which fits into A, sliding in and out as required. The ground glass and plate-holders fit grooves made in the inside box. In regard to plate-holders or tablets for holding the glass plates, it need only be said that the camera-boxes are accompanied with a complete set, so arranged that the light is wholly excluded from the plate while drawing out or pushing in the slide, for shutting off the light while the holder is out of the box. Should any one be desirous of using the same camera, for taking both glass and daguerreotype pictures, it will be necessary for him to be provided with two sets of tablets for his box, one for each process. [Illustration: Fig. 19.] Camera Stands. [Sidenote: CAMERA STANDS, ARM STANDS.] There are several patterns of these; almost every dealer has some particular style, which, if not for beauty, for his interest, suits his purposes best. Among the assortment, I will present only two illustrations. The first, Fig. 19, represents one which has an advantage over many others; it is made of cast iron, and of an ornamental pattern:--A, base on castors; B, fluted hollow column, which admits the iron tube C, which has on one side a hollow tooth rack to receive a spiral thread on the inner face of wheel D; this wheel, when turned, elevates or lowers the tube C to any desired height; E, thumb wheel attached to a screw which sets against tube C, to hold it in position, F, a pinion by which the camera can be directed; G G, thumb screws to hold the two plates together when in position. It is quite heavy, stands _firm_ and _solid_, and is not liable to be moved by the jar from walking over the floor. For permanently located operators these are the most desirable; but for those who are moving about from place to place, and those who wish to take views, a lighter article would be more convenient, such as one represented at Fig. 20. This stand is made principally of wood, and can be readily taken apart, so as to be packed in an ordinary sized trunk. [Illustration: Fig. 20.] [Illustration: Fig. 21.] Fig. 21 represents a small "Jenny Lind Stand," and is a very convenient article for the sitter to lean a hand or arm upon while sitting for a portrait; It is fixed with a rod for raising or lowering the top, and can be adjusted to any required height. Head Rests. [Sidenote: HEAD RESTS.] There are several patterns of head supports, or, as they are commonly called, head rests, in use by the profession. I give two illustrations (Figs. 22 and 23). The first is an independent iron rest, known as the "Jenny Lind Rest;" and the other is for fastening to the back of a chair, as seen in the cut. For general use, I would recommend the iron independent rest as far more advisable than any other. [Illustration: Fig. 22.] [Illustration: Fig. 23.] Vices for Holding Glass. [Sidenote: PLATE-HOLDERS, BATH, DIPPING RODS.] The article used for holding the glass, during the process of cleaning, is called a vice; and, of the numerous styles recently introduced, I find none that I would prefer to the old one known in market as "Peck's Vice;" it is simple and easy in operation, and at the same time is effectual. Fig. 24 represents this vice, which is to be firmly secured to a bench; the small piece of wood attached to the bottom is of no use. A A are the grooved for receiving the daguerreotype plate-block; but as they are too deep for the glass, I pin on a small strip of wood, so that the upper edge of the glass will be a little above the projection of the vice. [Illustration: Fig. 24.] [Illustration: Fig. 25.] [Illustration: Fig. 26.] [Illustration: Fig. 27.] Nitrate Baths and Dipping Rods. The accompanying illustration, Fig. 25, _a_, represents a bath for holding the nitrate of silver solution. This shape is of my own suggestion, and the best adapted to the wants of the photographer. It will be seen that the front side is rounding, with a curve extending from side to side. By this shape, the _face_ of the glass is protected from coming in contact with the side of the bath--both edges of it turning so as to prevent injury. There is a small projection on the top, at the opposite side of the oval; this is to allow the solution to flow over and wash off any dust that may have gathered upon the surface of the solution. This wash runs out of a small tube, as is shown in the cut. Any convenient vessel can be placed under it to receive the liquid. This can be filtered and returned as often as required. I am not in the practice of filling my baths full of solution, but always keep them filtered and clean; hence saving an excess of solution. _b_ represents a little support, which is secured at its base Upon the shelf, to hold the bath in a slightly inclined position, which is preferable to having it stand perpendicularly. [Illustration: Fig. 28.] [Illustration: Fig. 29.] [Illustration: Fig. 30.] Leveling Stands. [Sidenote: LEVELING STANDS.] Persons oftentimes require a rest or place to put their glass during development or washing the picture. Either of the stands represented by the annexed cut will answer the purpose. Fig. 30 is known to the daguerreotype operator as a "gilding stand," and is the one best adapted to the wants of operators on glass. It may be so arranged as to give the surface of the glass a water-level; D D are thumb-screws, by means of which, when properly regulated, the frame G may hold glass perfectly level and a large quantity of solution may be poured over the surface. Printing Frames. [Sidenote: PRINTING FRAMES.] There are numerous methods and apparatus used for holding the negative and the paper during exposure to the light. The following illustrations represent a convenient and economical frame for this purpose. [Illustration: Fig. 31.] [Illustration: Fig. 32.] Fig. 31 represents the front of the frame. The negative glass is held upon it by springs attached by screws to the bottom half of the frame, A, so that they can be turned on or off, to suit the different sizes of glass. On the other end of the spring are wooden buttons, which are placed on the edges of the glass negative, holding it in its place, and pressing it firmly against the paper which is placed under it. This frame is made of two pieces of inch board, which are connected by hinges, falling over as seen in Fig. 32, B being the half that is movable. This movable half is secured in position by means of a wooden button, attached to A on the back and under B, as seen in Fig. 32. The separate pieces, A and B, are bevelled where they connect, as seen by Fig. 31. D (in Fig. 32) is one of the springs, which can be seen in Fig. 31. The entire bed or face of the frame, A and B, should be covered with a thick piece of satinet cloth, which may be pasted to the lower half, A, and extended over the entire surface of A and B. This forms a pad for the paper. This printing frame can be easily made by any cabinet-maker or carpenter. The springs may be of sheet iron or brass--either will be found sufficiently stiff for the purpose. Every operator should be provided with from four to ten frames: the saving of time will be found to amply repay the expenditure necessary for a good supply. [Illustration: Fig. 33.] Another article called a pressure frame, is represented in the accompanying figure. This is more expensive than the first, and is by some considered preferable. Another cheap, convenient and equally good arrangement for holding the negative and paper, is to take three glasses--say one a full size, being the one having the negative upon it; and then take two glasses, each just half the size of the negative, and have a piece of _very thick heavy_ cloth cut the size of the negative glass, which can be put between it and the two half glasses, and then they can be held together by means of the common spring clothes pin. The advantage of the two glasses at the back is, that one can be entirely removed while the picture is being examined, and afterwards returned without, in the least, moving the impression. Collodion Vial.--Color-Boxes. [Sidenote: COLLODION VIALS. COLOR-BOXES.] This shaped vial is made expressly for collodion, to which purpose it is admirably adapted. It has a wide mouth, and is so constructed that the liquid flows clear and free. It is deep, and with a heavy protruding base, to prevent its falling. There are two sizes made at present, one to contain 2-1/2 ounces--the other, 1-1/2 ounce. I generally use the smaller ones, but always keep on hand, and would not be without, a few of the larger size. [Illustration: Fig. 34.] [Illustration: Fig. 35.] Fig. 35 represents a color-box. These can be had of any dealer, completely fitted, with color and brushes for use. =CHEMISTRY.= ~~~~~~~~~~ PRACTICAL HINTS ON =PHOTOGRAPHIC CHEMISTRY.= CHAPTER III. SOLUBLE COTTON--MANIPULATION--PLAIN COLLODION--BROMO-IODIZED COLLODION FOR POSITIVES--DITTO FOR NEGATIVES--SOLUTION OF BROMIDE AND IODIDE OF POTASSIUM AND SILVER--DOUBLE IODIDE OF POTASSIUM AND SILVER--DEVELOPING SOLUTION--FIXING THE SOLUTION--BRIGHTENING AND FINISHING THE IMAGE--PHOTOGRAPHIC CHEMICALS. The chemistry of Photography requires the attention, in a greater or less degree, of every practitioner. It is of the utmost importance, that those who wish to meet with success in the various processes given, should not only be provided with a good selection of chemicals, but also understand the nature of the agent employed. To give a perfectly complete and full list of every agent used would require more time and space than can be given in this work. I shall confine myself to some of the most important, and to such articles as are of the greatest interest to the practitioner. Soluble Cotton. I have, in my practice and trade, adopted the term _soluble cotton_ as the one most appropriate, making a desirable distinction from the article sold as _gun cotton_, they being of a somewhat different nature--gun cotton being the most explosive and least soluble, while the other preparation is more soluble and less explosive. There are two methods employed in the preparation of soluble cotton; one being by the use of nitric and sulphuric acids, and the other with sulphuric acid and nitrate of potash. The last of these I would recommend as being the most convenient for those who require only a small quantity of cotton. Persons experimenting in the preparation of this article should exercise much care and judgment. A good cotton is not the result of hap-hazard operation. The operator should be acquainted, as nearly as possible, with the quality of the chemicals employed, and the proper mode of manipulation. _Articles necessary._--One quart Wedgewood mortar and pestle, or evaporating dish; one glass rod; one pane of glass, large enough to cover the mortar or dish; one ordinary-sized pail two-thirds full of pure rain or distilled water, and at least ten times that quantity of water at hand; twelve ounces (by weight, avoirdupois) of nitrate of potash (Dupont's refined, pulverized); twelve ounces (by measure) of commercial sulphuric acid; and three hundred and forty grains of clean, pure cotton wool. _Remarks._--It is advisable that the mortar or dish be deep and narrow, as the mixture can be better formed in a vessel of this shape. If not convenient to procure a mortar, a common earthen bowl will answer; glass is objectionable, as the heat generated in the combination of the acid and nitre is liable to crack it. A new pail should not be used, especially if it is painted, as the acids attack the paint, and injure the cotton. I prefer one that has been used for some time, and has been frequently cleaned. A common earthen wash-bowl, or any large glass dish, will answer in place of the pail. Metal pails or vessels should not be used. _Nitrate of Potash_ (saltpetre) should be dry and finely-powdered. I use none other than Dupont's refined; this is very nearly, if not absolutely, chemically pure. The commercial _Sulphuric Acid_ (oil of vitriol) of America is of great uniformity of strength, as sold by druggists generally. I use a test-bulb graduated to the proper density, and have been very successful in my experiments. In some twenty different samples of acid, used in different cities in the United States, I found only one that produced a poor cotton, and this might have been influenced by the moisture of the atmosphere, it being a very rainy day when I used it. During my recent and somewhat extensive practice, I have thought that the _fine long fibres_ of cotton wool do not make so desirable a soluble cotton as that which is heavy or common. Four or five very careful experiments upon this point, have had the effect to produce in me a strong belief that my ideas are entitled to some consideration. I should not select the _finest_ cotton for making soluble cotton, but now invariably take that which is _thick_ or _coarse_. The result of my experience is (other things being equal), that cotton prepared in fine dry weather has a greater degree of solubility than when prepared in a moist atmosphere: hence I would recommend the experimenter to choose fine, clear weather for preparing it. =Manipulation.= Having at hand every article requisite, proceed as follows:--Put the nitrate of potash into the mortar or dish; be sure it is dry and well powdered, and then add the acid; stir them well with the pestle and glass rod, so that the lumps will be all (or nearly so) out, and a pasty solution formed. This operation should not occupy more than two minutes' time. Then put in the cotton, about one-quarter of the whole bulk at a time: it should be well picked apart, so that it may come immediately in contact with the acids, and should be _kneaded_, with the pestle and glass rod, into the solution, and as soon as wetted, another quarter should be added and wetted as soon as possible; so continue until all is in: then _knead_ with the pestle and mortar for at least four minutes, or until every fibre of the cotton is _saturated_ with the liquid; then the mortar should be covered over with the pane of glass, and allowed to stand for fifteen or twenty minutes; then the entire contents of the mortar should be thrown into the pail two-thirds full of water, and stirred with the glass rod as rapidly as possible: if this rapid stirring is omitted, the cotton will be injured by the action of the acids in combining with the water. The water should be poured off, and another change put into the pail. After about three changes, the hands may be used in the farther washing. The hands should be perfectly clean, and free from _all chemicals_. The changes of water and washing should be continued until every trace of acid has disappeared, which can be seen by testing with blue litmus test-paper. After it is thought that the cotton has become free, the water may be squeezed out of a little lump about the size of a pea, and then placed between the fold of the test-paper, and if it reddens the paper, there is acid present, and the washing should be continued until there is no change in the paper. When this is done, the cotton can be put into the folds of a dry towel or cloth (which has been thoroughly rinsed, so that no soap be present), and wrung out as dry as possible, and then it may be picked apart and put aside, exposed to a moderate temperature (say 100° Fahr.) to dry, when it is ready for use. I employ the method (for convenience, nothing more) of displacing the water by the use of alcohol. [_Cutting's patent--see patents._] I wring out the water as before, then place the cotton in strong alcohol, stir and press it, and then pour it off; wring it out again, then put it in a change of alcohol, let it soak for about five minutes, then wring it out as dry as possible, pick it apart, and it will dry immediately, and place it in a close stoppered bottle; or, if wanted for use at once, put it into the dissolving solution immediately. I will here remark that, since the first edition, I have had occasion to use large quantities of soluble cotton, and have found that if it be kept in an atmosphere of alcohol and ether, its solubility is somewhat improved: that is, in the case of its not being used immediately after its preparation. This is easily kept, by dropping a few drops of ether or alcohol into the bottle containing it, and then sealing close until wanted for use. In the event of the water being displaced by alcohol, it is not necessary to thoroughly dry it, but put in a _perfectly close_ bottle to keep. _Remarks._--There are a few precautions necessary to be observed in the preparation of soluble cotton. I should select a fine clear day, if time is no object; nevertheless I have made a good article in a moderately dense atmosphere. Sulphuric acid has a powerful affinity for hydrogen, consequently, in damp weather, it is more or less reduced by the moisture in the air. It is advisable to prepare the nitro-sulphuric acid mixture on a roof, or between two doors or windows, where there is a good current of air, in order to prevent the inhalation of white vapors which arise, and are very poisonous to the lungs. As a preventive, in case of inhaling these vapors, I apply the fumes of aqua-ammonia. It is best for every one to have six or eight ounces of this always at hand; it neutralizes all acid that maybe spattered on the clothes, prevents its destructive powers, and restores the color. Yellow vapors sometimes appear when putting the cotton in contact with the solution: this arises from its not being wet; and when they do appear, the cotton where they are should be quickly put under the liquid and kneaded rapidly, which will prevent a continuance of these vapors. I have had them appear, and used the cotton, and could not observe that any bad effect had been produced. The temperature is worthy the attention of the operator: if it be low, as in winter, and the cotton be left in the nitro-sulphuric mixture for fifteen or twenty minutes, the whole becomes a thick, stiff mass, bedded together, and has not had proper action, giving a bad article. A good temperature is about 140° Fahr. for the last of the time the cotton is in the mixture. This is not always convenient; so the operator will be governed by circumstances, taking his chance of having a good article. In some cases I have heated a _thick_ iron plate, at a moderate temperature, placing the mortar upon it, and thus aided in regulating the temperature. This is the most convenient method I have employed. It has been thought advisable to publish in full the account of Edw. Ash Hadow's experiments and investigations upon the subject of soluble cotton. The following is an account of them as it appeared in _Humphrey's Journal_, vol. VI. p. 12:-- "Having, in my earlier experiments on the collodion process of photography, experienced some difficulty in always producing a collodion of uniform quality with regard to sensitiveness, tenacity and fluidity, although making use of the same materials for its preparation, and this I find being the complaint of many others, it has been my study lately to determine the variations in quality to which the ingredients are liable, and the effects of these variations on the sensitive film, and likewise to ascertain whether the excellent qualities of some samples of collodion depend on the materials in ordinary use, or on some substances accidentally or intentionally added. Researches in the preparation of collodion may appear superfluous, now that it is supplied of the best quality by so many makers; but as some persons of an independent turn of mind still prefer manufacturing their own, I venture to bring forward the subject with the hope of benefiting them. In this beautiful process so much depends for success on the quality of the collodion, that when in possession of a good specimen, it becomes one of the easiest and most simple, and ought to be the most certain of all the processes yet devised; for here no material of uncertain composition is introduced, such as paper, and thus we have nothing to fear from plaster of Paris, alumina, or specks of iron or copper, which continually endanger or modify the calotype process; each ingredient can and ought to be obtained in a state of perfect purity, and with this precaution the degree of success depends upon the skill of the operator himself. "Of all the substances used in this process, the gun-cotton is usually the only one actually prepared by the operator himself; in this he cannot fail to have observed the great variations in the solubility, and, when dissolved, the transparency and tenacity of the films, to which it is liable; the various processes also that are given appear at first sight unaccountably different, some directing ten minutes, others a few seconds immersion. In consequence of this I have specially examined into the cause of all these variations, with a view to obtain certainty, and also have endeavored to discover how far they affect the sensitiveness of the prepared surface. If we take a mixture of the strongest nitric and sulphuric acids and immerse as much cotton as can be wetted, after some minutes squeeze out the acid as far as possible, then immerse a second portion of cotton, and again express the acids for a third portion of cotton, and so on until the liquid is exhausted, we shall find, on comparing the cottons thus treated, after washing and drying, that there is a gradual alteration in their properties, the first being highly and perfectly explosive, and each succeeding portion less so, until the portion last immersed will be found hardly explosive, leaving distinct traces of charcoal or soot when burned. This may not appear surprising at first sight, as it may be imagined that the latter portions are only a mixture of gun-cotton and common cotton; this is, however, not the case, for if each quantity be immersed sufficiently long, it will not contain a fibre of common cotton, and may yet become charred on burning like unaltered cotton. The most remarkable difference, however, is discovered on treating them with ether containing a little alcohol, when, contrary to what might have been anticipated, the first or strongest gun-cotton remains untouched, while the latter portions dissolve with the utmost ease, without leaving a trace behind, which alone is sufficient proof that no unaltered cotton remains. This difference in properties is owing to the gradual weakening of the acid mixture, in consequence of the nitric acid being removed by the cotton, with which it becomes intimately combined, at the same time that the latter gives out a proportionate quantity of water. In consequence of these experiments, a great many mixtures of these acids were prepared of various strengths, each being accurately known, both to determine whether there were more than one kind of _soluble_ gun-cotton, and, if there were, to ascertain exactly the mixture required to produce the most suitable to photographic purposes. By this means, and by, what I believe has not been pointed out, _varying the temperature_, at least five varieties were obtained;--first, gun-cotton, properly so called, as before stated, quite insoluble in any mixture of alcohol and sulphuric ether. Secondly, an explosive cotton, likewise insoluble, but differing chemically from the first, obtained by a mixture of certain strength when used _cold_. If _warm_, however, either from the heat produced spontaneously on mixing the two acids; or by raising the temperature artificially to about 130°, the cotton then immersed becomes perfectly soluble, producing a third variety; if, however, it be _thoroughly dried_, it becomes in a great measure insoluble. The fourth is obtained by the use of weaker acids used cold, and the fifth when the mixture has been warmed to 130° previous to the immersion of the cotton; in either of the two last cases the product is perfectly soluble, but there is a remarkable difference between their properties, for on dissolving 6 grains of each in 1 ounce of ether, the cotton treated with _warm_ acids gives a perfectly fluid solution (which is likewise the case with the third variety produced by acids something stronger), while that obtained by the use of cold acids makes a mixture as thick as castor-oil. "Having obtained these more strongly marked varieties, as well as intermediate kinds, with all gradations of solubility, it was necessary, before I could select any particular formula for preparing the cotton, to compare their photographic properties, with especial reference to sensitiveness, opacity of the reduced silver in negatives, and its color in positives. A certain weight of each being dissolved in a portion of the same mixture of alcohol and ether previously iodized, the comparison was made, by taking the same objects with each collodion in succession, and likewise by pouring two samples on the same plate of glass, and thus exposing them in the camera together, side by side; this last proved to be much the most satisfactory plan, and was repeated many times for each sample, taking care to reverse the order in which they were poured on, that there might be no mistake arising from the difference of time elapsing between the pouring on of the collodion and its immersion in the sensitive bath. By these experiments I had confidentially hoped to have solved the question as to the cause of difference in sensitiveness and other photographic properties of collodion; but in this I was disappointed, for, after repeated experiments, I believe I may safely affirm that they are precisely similar as regards their photographic properties. The same I believe may be said of Swedish paper collodion, judging from a few comparative experiments I have made, and indeed it is difficult to discover what is the superiority of this material over clean cotton-wool; the ease of manipulation which some allege is a matter of taste, but I should decidedly prefer the open texture of cotton to that of a substance like filtering paper, composed of a mass of compacted fibres, the innermost of which are only reached when the acids have undergone a certain degree of weakening by the water abstracted from the outer fibres; and when we consider that from cotton alone we have the means of preparing all varieties of collodion, from the most powerfully contracting and transparent to the weakest and most opaque, and each if required with equal and perfect certainty, there appears to be choice enough without resorting to another material, differing only in being more rare and more difficult to procure. But, although the photographic properties of these varieties of collodion-wool are so similar, other circumstances, such as fluidity, tenacity, and transparency, render its preparation of some importance, and indicate that the acid mixture should always be used warm; and it is chiefly in consequence of this very circumstance, that greater success attends the use of nitrate of potash and sulphuric acid than that of mixed acids; for the former when mixed, produce the required temperature, and must be used while warm, since on cooling the mixture becomes solid, whereas acids when mixed do not usually produce so high a temperature, and being fluid can be used at any subsequent period; another obstacle to their use is the great uncertainty of the strength of the nitric acid found in the shops, requiring a variation in the amount of sulphuric acid to be added, which would have to be determined by calculation or many troublesome trials. When a proper mixture is obtained, the time of immersion is of no importance, provided it be not too short, and the temperature be maintained at about 120° or 130°; ten minutes is generally sufficient; (though ten hours would not render the cotton less soluble, as is sometimes asserted.) "In using the mixed acids, the limits are the nitric acid being too strong, in which case the product is insoluble, or too weak, when the cotton becomes immediately matted or even dissolved, if the mixture is warm. I have availed myself of these facts in order to produce collodion-wool by the use of acids, without the trouble of calculating the proper mixture according to their strength. Five parts by measure of sulphuric acid, and four of nitric acid of specific gravity not lower than 1·4, are mixed in an earthenware or thin glass vessel capable of standing heat; small portions of water are added gradually (by half drachms at a time, supposing two ounces to have been mixed,) testing after each addition by immersion of a small portion of cotton; the addition of water is continued until a fresh piece of cotton is found to contract and dissolve on immersing; when this takes place, add half the quantity of sulphuric acid previously used, and (if the temperature does not exceed 130°, in which case it must be allowed to cool to that point,) immerse as much cotton, well pulled out, as can be easily and perfectly soaked; it is to be left in for ten minutes, taking care that the mixture does not become cold, and then transferred to cold water, and thoroughly washed; this is a matter of much importance, and should be performed at first by changing the water many times, until it ceases to taste acid, and then treating it with boiling rain-water until the color of blue litmus remains unchanged; the freedom from all trace of acid is insured by adding a little ammonia before the last washing. Cotton thus prepared should dissolve perfectly and instantaneously in ether containing a little alcohol, without leaving a fibre behind, and the film it produces be of the greatest strength and transparency, being what M. Gaudin terms 'rich in gun-cotton.' "The mixture of nitrate of potash and sulphuric acid is defective chiefly from the want of fluidity, in consequence of which the cotton is less perfectly acted on; this may be remedied by increasing the amount of sulphuric acid, at the same time adding a little water; a mixture of 5 parts of dried nitre, with 10 of sulphuric acid, by weight, together with 1 of water, produces a much better collodion wool than the ordinary mixture of 1 of nitre with 1-1/2 of sulphuric acid. The nitre is _dried_ before weighing, in order that its amount, as well as that of the water contained in the mixture, may be definite in quantity; it is then finely powdered, mixed with the water, and the sulphuric acid added; the cotton is immersed while the mixture is hot, and afterwards washed with greater care even than is required when pure acids are used, on account of the difficulty of getting rid of all the bisulphate of potash that adheres to the fibres, which both acts as an acid and likewise causes the collodion to appear opalescent when held up to the light; whereas the solution should be perfectly transparent." Plain Collodion. [Sidenote: PLAIN COLLODION.] To dissolve the soluble cotton (pyroxyline), and form plain collodion, proceed as follows: Take of Sulphuric ether (concentrated), 10 ounces Alcohol, from 90 to 95 per cent., 6 " Soluble cotton enough to give the solution a consistency such as will allow it to flow evenly over the surface of the glass, and impart to it quite a thick and transparent coating. If the coating is opaque, the cotton has not been properly prepared, the acid mixture has been too weak. _Remarks._--It is desirable for every operator to use chemicals of uniform strength, and the better method to adopt is to employ those purchased from some one respectable manufactory, and not take those furnished by irresponsible and unconscientious parties. At least one-half of the failures experienced by beginners is from want of good chemicals. It is not economy to purchase a _cheap article_. _Alcohol_ is an article that can be procured in almost any small village in the United States, and is in general fit for collodion purposes. I have used 88 per cent, in the above proportions, also the intermediate varieties to 98 per cent., and have been quite successful; but feel convinced that the ordinary 98, as marked (which usually stands by actual test 95 to 97 per cent.), is preferable, except in cases where water is employed in dissolving the iodizing salts, when I would use fully 98 per cent. Before concluding the subject on plain collodion, I will introduce the account given by Mr. E. A. Hadow of his interesting and valuable experiments, as published in _Humphrey's Journal_, Vol. VI, page 18. "Having obtained good collodion-wool, the next point of inquiry was with regard to the solvent; to ascertain whether the addition of alcohol beyond what is necessary to cause the solution of the gun-cotton in ether, were beneficial or otherwise. For this purpose ether and alcohol were prepared perfectly pure, and mixtures were made of 1 of alcohol to 7 of ether, 2 to 6, 3 to 5, 4 to 4 and 5 to 3. In one ounce of each were dissolved 6 grains of gun-cotton and 4 grains of iodide of ammonium (iodide of potassium could not be employed, since it requires a certain amount both of water and alcohol to keep it in solution); they were then compared, using a 35-grain solution of nitrate of silver, both by pouring on separate glasses, and likewise by covering two halves of a plate with two samples, as in examining the gun cottons, thus placing them under the same circumstances during the same time; in this way the effect of adding alcohol was very clearly perceived, since the difference between the collodions was much greater than could have been anticipated. "The first mixture containing only 1/8th of alcohol was quite unfit for photographic purposes, from its being almost impossible, even with the most rapid immersion, to obtain a film of uniform sensitiveness and opacity throughout, the surface generally exhibiting nearly transparent bands, having an iridescent appearance by reflected light. "The second mixture with 1/4th of the alcohol is liable to great uncertainty, for if there be any delay in pouring off the collodion the same appearances are seen as in the first, and like it the surface is very insensitive to light, while if the plate be rapidly plunged in the bath, the collodion film becomes much more opaque than before, and is then very sensitive. "The third proportion of 3 of alcohol to 5 of ether is decidedly the best, giving without the least difficulty a beautifully uniform and highly sensitive film, at the same time perfectly tough and easily removable from the glass if required. A further addition of alcohol, as in the two last collodions, was not attended with any corresponding advantage or increase of sensitiveness; on the contrary, the large proportion of alcohol rendered them less fluid, though with a smaller quantity of gun cotton they would produce very good collodions, capable of giving fine films: the cause of the weakness of the film, observed on adding much of the ordinary alcohol, is the large amount of water it usually contains. "This surprising improvement, caused by the addition of a certain quantity of alcohol, is referable to causes partly chemical, partly mechanical, for, on examining the films, it will be found in the first, and occasionally in the second collodion, that the iodide of silver is formed on the surface, and can be removed entirely by friction without destroying the transparent collodion film below, while in those collodions that contain more than one-fourth of alcohol, the iodide of silver is wholly in the substance, and in this state possesses the utmost sensitiveness. "This difference of condition is owing to the very sparing solubility of ether in water, which in the first case prevents the entrance of the nitrate of silver into the film, consequently the iodide and silver solutions meet on the surface; but on addition of alcohol, its solubility enables the two to interchange places, and thus the iodide of silver is precipitated throughout the substance in a state of the utmost division. This difference is clearly seen under the microscope, the precipitate being clotted in the one case, while in the other the particles are hardly discoverable from their fineness. "The presence of a little water considerably modifies these results, since it in some degree supplies the place of alcohol, and is so far useful; but in other respects it is injurious, for, accumulating in quantity, if the collodion is often used, it makes the film weak and gelatinous, and what is worse, full of minute cracks on drying, which is never the case when pure ether and alcohol are used. Since the ether of the shops almost always contains alcohol, and frequently water, it is important to ascertain their amount before employing it for the preparation of collodion; the quantity of alcohol may be easily ascertained by agitating the ether in a graduated measure glass (a minim glass does very well) with half its bulk of a _saturated_ solution of chloride of calcium; this should be poured in first, its height noted, and the ether then poured on its surface, the thumb then placed on the top, and the two agitated together; when separated, the increase of bulk acquired by the chloride of calcium indicates the quantity of alcohol present, and for this allowance should be made, in the addition of alcohol afterwards to the collodion. "Water is readily detected, either in ether or alcohol by allowing a drop to fall into spirits of turpentine, with which they ought to mix without turbidity; this is immediately produced if they contain water: for detecting water in _alcohol_, benzole is a more delicate re-agent than spirits of turpentine (Chemist, xxix, 203). It is also necessary that ether should be free from a remarkable property it acquires by long keeping, of decomposing iodides and setting free iodine, which thus gives the collodion a brown color; the same property may be developed in any ether, as Schonbein discovered by introducing a red hot wire into the vapor in the upper portion of a bottle containing a little ether and water; if it be then shaken up and a solution of iodide poured in, the whole rapidly becomes brown; this reaction is very remarkable and difficult to explain for even a mixture of the ether and nitric acid fails to produce a color _immediately_. Ether thus affected can only be deprived of this property by rectification with caustic potash." Bromo-Iodized Collodion for Positives.--No. 1. [Sidenote: IODIZED COLLODION FOR POSITIVES.] One very important object in connection with this part of the collodion process is to have chemicals of a good quality, and always employ those of a fixed standard. Plain collodion, 10 ounces. Solution of bromide, and iodide of potassium and silver, (page 61) 3 drachms. Iodide of ammonium, 10 grains. Hydro-bromic acid 6 drops. Double iodide of potassium and silver (see page 62) enough so that when the plate comes from the nitrate of silver bath, it will have an opaque cream color. _Remarks._--In the preparation of this sensitive collodion, it is necessary to be cautious and not add too much of the iodide of potassium and silver, for in that case the coating would flake off, and falling into the silvering solution, the operator would be obliged to filter it before he could silver his plate with safety as regards spotting it. The method I employ is to add the plain collodion, bromide and iodide of potassium and silver, iodide of ammonium and hydro-bromic acid, and then cautiously add the double iodide of potassium and silver from five to ten drops at a time, trying the collodion from time to time by pouring a little on a narrow strip of glass, which I dip into the silvering solution, and let it remain for two minutes. If the coating assumes the proper color (a cream color), I shake the contents of the bottle, and then stand it aside to settle: it is better after it has stood for a week or two. This collodion I have used after it has been made eight months, and produced fine and satisfactory results, and use this nearly altogether in practice. Since the first edition of this work has been issued, I have sold over two thousand pounds of this preparation, and the demand is on the increase. I will append another preparation (No. 2) which I have successfully employed, and some operators prefer. Bromo-Iodized Collodion for Positives.--No. 2. Plain collodion 10 ounces. Iodide of potassium 30 grains. Bromide of ammonium 20 " Enough of the double iodide of potassium and silver to give the coating a cream color when it comes from the silvering solution. It will take from one to three drachms. Or this last may be omitted, and a few drops of a saturated solution of dry iodine in alcohol may be added. Either of these plans have been successful in my practice. _Remarks._--The iodide of potassium being insoluble in the collodion, it should be first dissolved in as little water as possible; _i. e._, take the quantity, 30 grains, put it into a one-ounce graduate, and with a glass rod stir it, adding water, drop by drop, only until all of the salt is dissolved. Then it may be poured into the collodion, and there will be a white powdery precipitate. The bromide of ammonium will dissolve in the collodion, and can be put into it. When all of the accelerators are in, it should be well shaken, and then allowed to settle and become clear. When wanted, a sufficient quantity may be poured into a vial (see Fig. 34) for use, and the main or stock bottle should not be disturbed oftener than necessary. This last collodion is not as durable as the first, but is less trouble to prepare. Bromo-Iodized Collodion for Negatives. [Sidenote: IODIZED COLLODION FOR NEGATIVES] Plain collodion 8 ounces. Iodide of potassium (dissolved as per page 62) 24 grains. Bromide of ammonium 16 " This collodion should be allowed to stand and settle twenty-four hours before it is used: when wanted, it should be poured off into a collodion vial. The more free the collodion is from sediment and small particles of dust or undissolved cotton, the softer and more perfect will be the impression it makes. In case the above proportions of iodide of potassium should not produce a cream-colored coating, when it comes from the nitrate of silver bath, more may be added: for example, if the coating is of a bluish tint, I would dissolve 6 grains of iodide of potassium in water, as before, and then try it: shake well, and test it by putting a little on a slip of glass, and dipping it into the silvering solution; if it coats to a cream-color, it is right. It should be borne in mind, that after the addition of iodide of potassium here recommended, the collodion should be allowed to stand until settled, before undertaking to produce a picture, although the coating may be previously tested by means of a slip of glass. Solution of Bromide and Iodide of Potassium and Silver. Dissolve 130 grains of crystallized nitrate, of silver in 4 ounces of pure water, in a long 8-ounce vial. Then in a clean 1-ounce graduate, or some other convenient vessel containing half an ounce of water, dissolve 130 grains bromide of potassium. When this and the nitrate of silver are both dissolved, pour the solution of bromide of potassium into the vial containing the silver, and a thick yellow precipitate will fall. This is the bromide of potassium and silver. This should be washed by nearly filling the vial with water; shake it, and then let it settle, which it will readily do, and then pour on the water, leaving the yellow mass in the bottom of the vial; continue this operation of washing for at least ten changes of water; then, after draining off the water as close as possible, put into the vial four ounces of alcohol, shake it well and let it settle; then pour off as close as possible. By this means the water is nearly all taken out. Pour into the vial _three_ ounces of alcohol; then in a small mortar finely pulverize one ounce of iodide of potassium, and the solution, which was before clear, will be more or less of a yellow color, and the bulk of the yellow precipitate will be diminished. I have sometimes completely re-dissolved the yellow precipitate, but this does not often occur, except there be more water present than is advisable. It is better to have an excess of bromide of potassium in the solution. This can be seen by its being white, and remaining undissolved in the bottom of the vial. This solution should be prepared in the evening, or in a dark room, and only the light of a lamp or candle employed. Double Iodide of Potassium and Silver. This solution is made in the same manner as in the foregoing article, substituting the iodide of potassium for the bromide--no bromide being used in this preparation. The yellow precipitate in this case will be re-dissolved and taken up in the solution: it may require more than one ounce of pulverized iodide of potassium to effect this, but it may be added in excess, so that the solution shall contain a quantity in powder. Developing Solution. [Sidenote: DEVELOPING SOLUTION.] Protosulphate of iron, 3 ounces. Rain or distilled water, 1 quart. Put these into a quart bottle, and shake until the crystals are all dissolved, and this can be kept for a stock bottle, and when wanted for use pour into another bottle. Of the above solution, 5 ounces. Acetic acid (No. 8) 1 " Chemically pure nitric acid 20 drops. Shake this mixture well, and filter through a sponge, and it is ready for use. I file a mark in this bottle indicating five ounces, and another for 1 ounce: this will save time in mixing the solution. _Remarks._--In my recent tour of the United States, I found it difficult to obtain a good article of protosulphate of iron, and in its stead I used the common copperas, such as I could find almost in any store. I employ from one-fourth to one-half more than the quantity given above. If it looked a clear green, and free from a white or brownish powder, about one-fourth addition: _i. e._, four ounces, instead of three, as given above. If the solution in the stock bottle is not wanted for a week or more, a few crystals of the protosulphate of iron should be added, as it decomposes, and the strength is depreciated. There is quite a difference in the strength of the acetic acid as sold by out country druggists, and the operator should be sure that he has No. 8, to which quality the above proportions are adapted. I never have employed the developing solution but once, but can see no objections to use it for a number of glass plates, but it should be filtered every time before using. The quantity of nitric acid may be increased, so long as a proper proportion is preserved with the strength of the bath. The effect of this addition of acid will be to brighten the impression; but if carried too far, the reduction (developing) will be irregular, and the harmony of the impression injured. Fixing Solution. [Sidenote: FIXING SOLUTION.] Water, 8 ounces. Cyanide of potassium, about 1 drachms _Remarks._--I put enough of the cyanide of potassium into the water to make the solution of such strength as to dissolve off the iodide of silver ("coating") in from twenty to sixty seconds. The operation is quite similar to that of hyposulphate of soda upon the coating of the Daguerreotype plate. A too concentrated solution is likely to injure the sharpness of the image. Brightening and Finishing the Image. [Sidenote: HUMPHREY'S COLLODION GILDING.] The article I now employ for finishing off my Positives is in market, and known as Humphrey's Collodion Gilding. It is a new preparation, and exerts a powerful influence upon the image, having the same brightening effect as chloride of gold on the daguerreotype. There is no article now in market that equals this. I have until quite recently used a varnish for this purpose, but having something that is of far greater value, I have discarded it. It is one of the most valuable improvements since the application of the Collodion Film as a vehicle for producing photographic images. It is a new discovery, and is being rapidly brought into use by the first ambrotypers and photographers in America. It adds at least one-half to the beauty of an ambrotype, above any method heretofore in use. It is _imperishable_, giving a surface almost equal in hardness to the glass itself. It is easy of application; it gives a brilliant finish; it is not affected by a moist atmosphere; it is not affected by pure water; it is the best article ever used for _finishing ambrotypes_; it will preserve glass negatives for all time; it will preserve the _whites_ in the ambrotype; it gives a rich lustre to drapery; it will bear exposure to the hot sun; it preserves positives and negatives from injury by light. It is an article that, when once tried, the operator upon glass (positive, negative, or albumenized plates) _will not do without_. The ingredients in the composition of this gilding are neither _patented_ nor _published_, but it can be procured from any dealer in photographic chemicals. Nitrate of Silver Bath. [Sidenote: NITRATE OF SILVER BATH.] I here give what I consider an improvement on the bath mentioned in the first edition of this work. I first published it in _Humphrey's Journal_, No. 23, Vol. VII.: The nitrate of silver solution is an important mixture in the chemical department of the ambrotype process, and requires the especial care of the operator in its preparation. I give the following as one of the most approved for general practice. It is well adapted to the production of positives, and its action is of great uniformity. Pure water 1 ounce. Nitrate of silver in crystals [neutral to acid test] 45 grains. Nitric acid C. P. [Quantity as given below]. This proportion is to be observed for any quantity of solution. If I were to prepare a bath 40 ounces, I would proceed as follows: Water 40 ounces. Nitrate of silver 1800 grains. Measure the water, and put into a two-quart bottle; then pour out 8 oz. of it in a pint bottle, and into this put the whole of the nitrate of silver (1800 gr.); shake it well until it is all dissolved. This forms a concentrated solution--into which put the following prepared iodide of silver:-- Dissolve in a 3 or 4 oz. bottle containing 1 oz. water, 10 gr. nitrate of silver; and in another bottle or graduate containing a little water, dissolve 10 grains of iodide of potassium; pour this into the 10 grain solution of nitrate of silver, and a yellow substance (iodide of silver) will precipitate; fill the bottle with water, and let it settle; then pour off the water, leaving the yellow mass behind; again pour on it clean water, shake it, and let it settle as before, and pour off again; repeat this for about six changes of water. Then it (the iodide of silver) is to be put into the bottle containing the 8 oz. water and 1800 gr. of nitrate of silver; shake it well, and it will nearly or quite all dissolve; pour this into the two-quart bottle, and shake well; it will be of a yellowish white tint, and should be filtered through asbestos or sponge, when it will become clear. When clear, test the solution with blue litmus-paper; if it turns it red, it is sufficiently acid; if it does not change it, add _one_ or _two_ drops of nitric acid, chemically pure; then test it again; if it does not change it, add _one_ or _two_ drops more, or just enough to change the paper to the slightest red. A solution prepared in this proportion will, like others, improve by age. An old bath is considered far more valuable than one newly prepared. These remarks may appear to old photographic operators as of no importance, but they must bear in mind that there are hundreds just adopting this new process of picture taking. This solution will work more satisfactorily than the one I formerly used. It will work quicker in the camera, and is _equally_ durable. * * * * * Acknowledgment.--The following pages, under the head of _Vocabulary of Photographic Chemicals_, and treating upon the Chemicals used in Photography, are taken from the third edition of "Hardwich's Photographic Chemistry:"-- =Vocabulary of Photographic Chemicals.= [Sidenote: VOCABULARY OF PHOTOGRAPHIC CHEMICALS.] Acetic Acid. Symbol, C{4}H{3}O{3} + HO. Atomic weight, 60. Acetic acid is a product of the _oxidation_ of alcohol. Spirituous liquids, when perfectly pure, are not affected by exposure to air; but if a portion of yeast, or nitrogenous organic matter of any kind, be added, it soon acts as a _ferment_, and causes the spirit to unite with oxygen derived from the atmosphere, and to become _sour_ from formation of acetic acid or "vinegar." Acetic acid is also produced on a large scale by heating _wood_ in close vessels; a substance distils over which is acetic acid contaminated with empyreumatic and tarry matter; it is termed pyroligneous acid, and is much used in commerce. The most concentrated acetic acid may be obtained by neutralizing common vinegar with carbonate of soda and crystallizing out the acetate of soda so formed; this acetate of soda is then distilled with sulphuric acid, which removes the soda and liberates acetic acid: the acetic acid being volatile, distils over, and may be condensed. _Properties of Acetic Acid._--The strongest acid contains only a single atom of water; it is sold under the name of "glacial acetic acid," so called from its property of solidifying at a moderately low temperature. At about 50° the crystals melt, and form a limpid liquid of pungent odor and a density nearly corresponding to that of water; the specific gravity of acetic acid, however, is no test of its real strength, which can only be estimated by analysis. The commercial glacial acetic acid is often diluted with water, which may be suspected if it does not solidify during the cold winter months. Sulphurous and hydrochloric acids are also common impurities. They are injurious in photographic processes from their property of precipitating nitrate of silver. To detect them proceed as follows:--dissolve a small crystal of nitrate of silver in a few drops of water, and add to it about half a drachm of the glacial acid; the mixture should remain quite clear even when exposed to the light. Hydrochloric and sulphurous acids produce a white deposit of chloride or sulphite of silver; and if _aldehyde_ or volatile tarry matter be present in the acetic acid, the mixture with nitrate of silver, although clear at first, becomes discolored by the action of light. Many photographers employ a cheaper form of acetic acid, sold by druggists as "Beaufoy's" acid;[A] it should be of the strength of the acetic acid fortiss. of the London Pharmacopoeia, containing 30 per cent, real acid, and must be tested for sulphuric acid (see sulphuric acid), and also by mixing with nitrate of silver. [Footnote A: In this country the practitioner uses the article sold in market as "Acetic Acid, No. 8."--S. D. H.] Acetate of Silver. (_See_ Silver, Acetate of.) Albumen. Albumen is an organic principle, found both in the animal and vegetable kingdom. Its properties are best studied in the _white of egg_, which is a very pure form of albumen. Albumen is capable of existing in two states; in one of which it is soluble, in the other insoluble in water. The aqueous solution of the soluble variety gives a slightly alkaline reaction to test-paper; it is somewhat thick and glutinous, but becomes more fluid on the addition of a small quantity of an alkali, such as potash or ammonia. Soluble albumen may be converted into the insoluble form in the following ways:-- 1. _By the application of heat._--A moderately strong solution of albumen becomes opalescent and coagulates on being heated to about 150°, but a temperature of 212° is required if the liquid is very dilute. A layer of _dried_ albumen cannot easily be coagulated by the mere application of heat. 2. _By addition of strong acids._--Nitric acid coagulates albumen perfectly without the aid of heat. Acetic acid, however, acts differently, appearing to enter into combination with the albumen, and forming a compound soluble in warm water acidified by acetic acid. 3. _By the action of metallic salts._--Many of the salts of the metals coagulate albumen very completely. Nitrate of silver does so; also the bichloride of mercury. Ammoniacal oxide of silver, however, does not coagulate albumen. The white precipitate formed on mixing albumen with nitrate of silver is a chemical compound of the animal matter with protoxide of silver. This substance, which has been termed albuminate of silver, is soluble in ammonia and hyposulphite of soda; but after exposure to light, or heating in a current of hydrogen gas, it assumes a brick-red color, being probably reduced to the condition of a salt of the _suboxide_ of silver. It is then almost insoluble in ammonia, but enough dissolves to tinge the liquid wine-red. The author is of opinion that the _red coloration_ of solution of nitrate of silver employed in sensitizing the albumenized photographic paper is produced by the same compound, although often referred to the presence of sulphuret of silver. Albumen also combines with lime and baryta; and chloride of barium has been recommended in positive printing upon albumenized paper, probably from this cause. _Chemical composition of albumen._--Albumen belongs to the _nitrogenous_ class of organic substances. It also contains small quantities of sulphur and phosphorus. Alcohol. Symbol, C{4}H{6}O{2}. Atomic weight, 46. Alcohol is obtained by the careful distillation of any spirituous or fermented liquor. If wine or beer be placed in a retort, and heat applied, the alcohol, being more volatile than water, rises first, and is condensed in an appropriate receiver; a portion of the vapor of water, however, passes over with the alcohol, and dilutes it to a certain extent, forming what is termed "spirits of wine." Much of this water may be removed by redistillation from carbonate of potash; but in order to render the alcohol thoroughly _anhydrous_, it is necessary to employ _quick lime_ which possesses a still greater attraction for water. An equal weight of this powdered lime is mixed with strong alcohol of ·823, and the two are distilled together. _Properties of Alcohol._--Pure anhydrous alcohol is a limpid liquid, of an agreeable odor and pungent taste; sp. gr. at 60°, ·794. It absorbs vapor of water, and becomes diluted by exposure to damp air; boils at 173° Fahr. It has never been frozen. Alcohol distilled from carbonate of potash has a specific gravity of ·815 to ·823, and contains 90 to 93 per cent, of real spirit. The specific gravity of ordinary rectified spirits of wine is usually about ·840, and it contains 80 to 83 per cent, of absolute alcohol. Ammonia. Symbol, NH{3} or NH{4}O. Atomic weight, 17. The liquid known by this name is an aqueous solution of the volatile gas ammonia. Ammoniacal gas contains 1 atom of nitrogen combined with three of hydrogen: these two elementary bodies exhibit no affinity for each other, but they can be made to unite under certain circumstances, and the result is ammonia. Properties of Ammonia.--Ammoniacal gas is soluble in water to a large extent; the solution possessing those properties which are termed alkaline. Ammonia, however, differs from the other alkalies in one important particular--it is volatile: hence the original color of turmeric paper affected by ammonia is restored on the application of heat. Solution of ammonia absorbs carbonic acid rapidly from the air, and is converted into carbonate of ammonia; it should therefore be preserved in stoppered bottles. Besides carbonate, commercial ammonia often contains chloride of ammonium, recognized by the white precipitate given by nitrate of silver after acidifying with pure nitric acid. The strength of commercial ammonia varies greatly; that sold for pharmaceutica purposes, under the name of liquor ammoniæ, contains about 10 per cent, of real ammonia. The sp. gr. of aqueous ammonia diminishes with the proportion of ammonia present, the liquor ammoniæ being usually about ·936. _Chemical Properties._--Ammonia, although forming a large class of salts, appears at first sight to contrast strongly by composition with the alkalies proper, such as potash and soda. Mineral bases generally are _protoxides of metals_, but ammonia consists simply of nitrogen and hydrogen united with oxygen. The following remarks may perhaps tend somewhat to elucidate the difficulty:-- _Theory of Ammonium._--This theory supposes that a substance exists possessing the properties of a metal, but different from metallic bodies generally in being compound in structure: the formula assigned to it is NH{4}, 1 atom of nitrogen united with 4 of hydrogen. The hypothetical metal is termed "ammonium," and ammonia, associated with an atom of water, may be viewed as its _oxide_; for NH{3} + HO plainly equals NH{4}O. Thus, as potash is the oxide of _potassium_, so ammonia is the oxide of _ammonium_. The composition of the _salts_ of ammonia is on this view assimilated to those of the alkalies proper. Thus, sulphate of ammonia is a sulphate of the oxide of _ammonium_; muriate or hydrochlorate of ammonia is a chloride of ammonium, etc. Ammonio-Nitrate of Silver. (_See_ Silver, Ammonio-Nitrate of.) Aqua-Regia. (_See_ Nitro-Hydrochloric Acid.) Baryta, Nitrate of. (_See_ Nitrate of Baryta.) Bichloride of Mercury. (_See_ Mercury, Bichloride of.) Bromine. Symbol, Br. Atomic weight, 78. This elementary substance is obtained from the uncrystallizable residuum of sea-water, termed _bittern_. It exists in the water in very minute proportion, combined with magnesium in the form of a soluble bromide of magnesium. _Properties._--Bromine is a deep reddish-brown liquid of a disagreeable odor, and fuming strongly at common temperatures; sparingly soluble in water (1 part in 23, Lowig), but more abundantly so in alcohol, and especially in ether. It is very heavy, having a specific gravity of 3·0. Bromine is closely analogous to chlorine and iodine in its chemical properties. It stands on the list intermediately between the two; its affinities being stronger than those of iodine, but weaker than chlorine. (_See_ chlorine.) It forms a large class of salts, of which the bromides of potassium, cadmium, and silver are the most familiar to photographers. Bromide of Potassium. Symbol, KBr. Atomic weight, 118. Bromide of potassium is prepared by adding bromine to caustic potash, and heating the product, which is a mixture of bromide of potassium and bromate of potash, to redness, in order to drive off the oxygen from the latter salt. It crystallizes in anhydrous cubes, like the chloride, and iodide, of potassium; it is easily soluble in water, but more sparingly so in alcohol; it yields red fumes of bromine when acted upon by sulphuric acid. Bromide of Silver. (_See_ Silver, Bromide of.) Carbonate of Soda. Symbol, NaO CO{2} + 10 Aq. This salt was formerly obtained from the ashes of seaweeds, but is now more economically manufactured on a large scale from common salt. The chloride of sodium is first converted into sulphate of soda, and afterwards the sulphate into carbonate of soda. _Properties._--The perfect crystals contain ten atoms of water, which are driven off by the application of heat, leaving a white powder--the anhydrous carbonate. _Common washing soda_ is a neutral carbonate, contaminated to a certain extent with chloride of sodium and sulphate of soda. The carbonate used for effervescing draughts is either a bicarbonate with 1 atom of water, or a sesquicarbonate, containing about 40 per cent, of real alkali; it is therefore nearly double as strong as the washing carbonate, which contains about 22 per cent, of soda. Carbonate of soda is soluble in twice its weight of water at 60°, the solution being strongly alkaline. Carbonate of Potash. (_See_ Potash, Carbonate of.) Caseine. (_See_ Milk.) Charcoal, Animal. Animal charcoal is obtained by heating animal substances, such as bones, dried blood, horns, etc., to redness, in close vessels, until all volatile empyreumatic matters have been driven off, and a residue of carbon remains. When prepared from bones it contains a large quantity of inorganic matter in the shape of carbonate and phosphate of lime, the former of which produces _alkalinity_ in reacting upon nitrate of silver. Animal charcoal is freed from these earthy salts by repeated digestion in hydrochloric acid; but unless very carefully washed it is apt to retain an acid reaction, and so to liberate free nitric acid when added to solution of nitrate of silver. _Properties._--Animal charcoal, when pure, consists solely of carbon, and burns away in the air without leaving any residue: it is remarkable for its property of decolorizing solutions; the organic coloring substance being separated, but not actually _destroyed_, as it is by _chlorine_ employed as a bleaching agent. This power of absorbing coloring matter is not possessed in an equal degree by all varieties of charcoal, but is in great measure peculiar to those derived from the animal kingdom. China Clay or Kaolin. This is prepared, by careful levigation, from mouldering granite and other disintegrated felspathic rocks. It consists of the _silicate of alumina_,--that is, of silicic acid or _flint_, which is an oxide of silicon, united with the base alumina (oxide of aluminum). Kaolin is perfectly insoluble in water and acids, and produces no decomposition in solution of nitrate of silver. It is employed by photographers to decolorize solutions of nitrate of silver which have become brown from the action of albumen or other organic matters. Chlorine. Symbol, Cl. Atomic weight, 36. Chlorine is a chemical element found abundantly in nature, combined with metallic sodium in the form of chloride of sodium, or sea-salt. _Preparation._--By distilling common salt with sulphuric acid, sulphate of soda and hydrochloric acid are formed. Hydrochloric acid contains chlorine combined with hydrogen; by the action of _nascent_ oxygen (see oxygen), the hydrogen may be removed in the form of water, and the chlorine left alone. _Properties._--Chlorine is a greenish-yellow gas, of a pungent and suffocating odor; soluble to a considerable extent in water, the solution possessing the odor and color of the gas. It is nearly 2-1/2 times as heavy as a corresponding bulk of atmospheric air. _Chemical Properties._--Chlorine belongs to a small natural group of elements which contains also bromine, iodine, and fluorine. They are characterized by having a strong affinity for hydrogen, and also for the metals, but are comparatively indifferent to oxygen. Many metallic substances actually undergo _combustion_ when projected into an atmosphere of chlorine, the union between the two taking place with extreme violence. The characteristic bleaching properties of chlorine gas are explained in the same manner:--Hydrogen is removed from the organic substance, and in that way the structure is broken up and the color destroyed. Chlorine is more powerful in its affinities than either bromine or iodine. The salts formed by these three elements are closely analogous in composition and often in properties. Those of the alkalies, alkaline earths, and many of the metals are soluble in water, but the silver salts are insoluble; the lead salts sparingly so. The combinations of chlorine, bromine, iodine, and fluorine, with hydrogen, are acids, and neutralize alkalies in the usual manner, with formation of alkaline chloride and water. The test by which the presence of chlorine is detected, either free or in combination with bases, is _nitrate of silver_; it gives a white curdy precipitate of chloride of silver, insoluble in nitric acid, but soluble in ammonia. The solution of nitrate of silver employed as the test must not contain iodide of silver, as this compound is precipitated by dilution. Chloride of Ammonium. Symbol, NH{4}Cl. Atomic weight, 54. This salt, also known as muriate or hydrochlorate of ammonia, occurs in commerce in the form of colorless and translucent masses, which are procured by _sublimation_, the dry salt being volatile when strongly heated. It dissolves in an equal weight of boiling, or in three parts of cold water. It contains more _chlorine_ in proportion to the weight used than chloride of sodium, the atomic weights of the two being as 54 to 60. Chloride of Barium. Symbol, BaCl+2HO. Atomic weight, 123. Barium is a metallic element, very closely allied to calcium, the elementary basis of _lime_. The chloride of barium is commonly employed as a test for sulphuric acid, with which it forms an insoluble precipitate of sulphate of baryta. It is also said to affect the color of the photographic image when used in preparing positive paper; which may possibly be due to a chemical combination of baryta with albumen: but it must be remembered that this chloride, from its high atomic weight, contains _less_ chlorine than the alkaline chlorides. _Properties of Chloride of Barium._--Chloride of barium occurs in the form of white crystals, soluble in about two parts of water, at common temperature. These crystals contain two atoms of water of crystallization, which are expelled at 212°, leaving the anhydrous chloride. Chloride of Gold. (_See_ Gold, Chloride of.) Chloride of Sodium. Symbol, NaCl. Atomic weight, 60. Common salt exists abundantly in nature, both in the form of solid rock-salt and dissolved in the waters of the ocean. _Properties of the pure Salt._--Fusible without decomposition at low redness, but sublimes at higher temperatures; the melted salt concretes into a hard white mass on cooling. Nearly insoluble in absolute alcohol, but dissolves in minute quantity in rectified spirit. Soluble in three parts of water, both hot and cold. Crystallizes in cubes, which are anhydrous. _Impurities of Common Salt._--Table salt often contains large quantities of the chlorides of magnesium and calcium, which, being deliquescent, produce a dampness by absorption of atmospheric moisture: sulphate of soda is also commonly present. The salt may be purified by repeated recrystallization, but it is more simple to prepare the pure compound _directly_, by neutralizing hydrochloric acid with carbonate of soda. Chloride of Silver. (_See_ Silver, Chloride of.) Citric Acid. This acid is found abundantly in lemon-juice and in lime-juice. It occurs in commerce in the form of large crystals, which are soluble in less than their own weight of water at 60°. Commercial citric acid is sometimes mixed with tartaric acid. The adulteration may be discovered by making a concentrated solution of the acid and adding _acetate of potash_; crystals of bitartrate of potash will separate if tartaric acid be present. Citric acid is tribasic. It forms with silver a white insoluble salt, containing 3 atoms of oxide of silver to 1 atom of citric acid. If the citrate of silver be heated in a current of hydrogen gas, a part of the acid is liberated and the salt is reduced to a citrate of _suboxide_ of silver; which is of a red color. The action of white light in reddening citrate of silver is shown by the author to be of a similar nature. Cyanide of Potassium. Symbol, K, C{2}N, or KCy. Atomic weight, 66. This salt is a compound of cyanogen gas with the metal potassium. Cyanogen is not an elementary body, like chlorine or iodine, but consists of carbon and nitrogen united in a peculiar manner. Although a compound substance, it reacts in the manner of an element, and is therefore (like _ammonium_, previously described) an exception to the usual laws of chemistry. Many other bodies of a similar character are known. Ether. Symbol, C{4}H{5}O. Atomic weight, 37. Ether is obtained by distilling a mixture of sulphuric acid and alcohol. If the formula of alcohol (C{4}H{6}O{2}) be compared with that of ether, it will be seen to differ from it in the possession of an additional atom of hydrogen and of oxygen: in the reaction, the sulphuric acid removes these elements in the form of water, and by so doing converts one atom of alcohol into an atom of ether. The term _sulphuric_ applied to the commercial ether has reference only to the manner of its formation. _Properties of Ether._--It is neither acid nor alkaline to test-paper. Specific gravity, at 60°, about ·720. Boils at 98° Fahrenheit. The vapor is exceedingly dense, and may be seen passing off from the liquid and falling to the ground: hence the danger of pouring ether from one bottle to another if a flame be near at hand. Ether does not mix with water in all proportions; if the two are shaken together, after a short time the former rises and floats upon the surface. In this way a mixture of ether and alcohol may be purified to some extent, as in the common process of _washing_ ether. The water employed however always retains a certain portion of ether (about a tenth part of its bulk), and acquires a strong ethereal odor; washed ether also contains water in small quantity. Bromine and iodine are both soluble in ether, and gradually react upon and decompose it. The strong alkalies, such as potash and soda, also decompose ether slightly after a time, but not immediately. Exposed to air and light, ether is oxidized and acquires a peculiar odor. Ether dissolves fatty and resinous substances readily, but inorganic salts are mostly insoluble in this fluid. Hence it is that iodide of potassium and other substances dissolved in alcohol are precipitated to a certain extent by the addition of ether. Fluoride of Potassium. Symbol, KF. Atomic weight, 59. _Preparation._--Fluoride of potassium is formed by saturating hydrofluoric acid with potash, and evaporating to dryness in a platinum vessel. _Hydrofluoric acid_ contains fluorine combined with hydrogen; it is a powerfully acid and corrosive liquid, formed by decomposing flour spar, which is a _fluoride of calcium_, with strong sulphuric acid; the action which takes place being precisely analogous to that involved in the preparation of hydrochloric acid. _Properties._--A deliquescent salt, occurring in small and imperfect crystals. Very soluble in water: the solution acting upon glass in the same manner as hydrofluoric acid. Formic Acid. Symbol, C{2}HO{3}. Atomic weight, 37. This substance was originally discovered in the _red ant_ (_Formica rufa_), but it is prepared on a large scale by distilling _starch_ with binoxide of manganese and sulphuric acid. _Properties._--The strength of commercial formic acid is uncertain, but it is always more or less dilute. The strongest acid, as obtained by distilling formiate of soda with sulphuric acid, is a fuming liquid with a pungent odor, and containing only one atom of water: it inflames the skin in the same manner as the sting of the ant. Formic acid reduces the oxides of gold, silver, and mercury, to the metallic state, and is itself oxidized into carbonic acid. The alkaline formiates also possess the same properties. Gelatine. Symbol, C{13}H{10}O{5}N{2}. Atomic weight, 156. This is an organic substance somewhat analogous to albumen, but differing from it in properties. It is obtained by subjecting bones, hoofs, horns, calves' feet, etc., to the action of boiling water. The jelly formed on cooling is termed size, or when dried or cut into slices, _glue_. Gelatine, as it is sold in the shops, is a pure form of glue. _Isinglass_ is gelatine prepared, chiefly in Russia, from the air-bladders of certain species of sturgeon. _Properties of Gelatine._--Gelatine softens and swells up in cold water, but does not _dissolve_ until heated: the hot solution, on cooling, forms a tremulous jelly. One ounce f cold water will retain about three grains of isinglass without gelatinizing; but much depends upon the temperature, a few degrees greatly affecting the result. Gelatine forms no compound with oxide of silver analogous to the albuminate of silver; which fact explains the difference in the photographic properties of albumen and gelatine. Glycerine. Fatty bodies are resolved by treatment with an alkali into an acid--which combines with the alkali, forming a _soap_,--and glycerine, remaining in solution. Pure glycerine, as obtained by Price's patent process of distillation, is a viscid liquid of sp. gr. about 1·23; miscible in all proportions with water and alcohol. It is peculiarly a neutral substance, exhibiting no tendency to combine with acids or bases. It has little or no action upon nitrate of silver in the dark, and reduces it very slowly even when exposed to light. Gold, Chloride of. Symbol, AuCl{3}. Atomic weight, 303. This salt is formed by dissolving pure metallic gold in nitro-hydrochloric acid, and evaporating at a gentle heat. The solution affords deliquescent crystals of a deep orange color. Chloride of gold, in a state fit for photographic use may easily be obtained by the following process:--Place a half-sovereign in any convenient vessel, and pour on it half a drachm of nitric acid mixed with two and a half drachms of hydrochloric acid and three drachms of water; digest by a gentle heat, but do not _boil_ the acid, or much of the chlorine will be driven off in the form of gas. At the expiration of a few hours add fresh aqua-regia in quantity the same as at first, which will probably complete the solution, but if not, repeat the process a third time. Lastly, neutralize the liquid by adding carbonate of soda until all effervescence ceases, and a green precipitate forms; this is _carbonate of copper_, which must be allowed several hours to separate thoroughly. The solution then contains chloride of gold in a neutral state, and free from copper and silver, with which the metallic gold is alloyed in the standard coin of the realm. The weight of a half-sovereign is about 61 grains, of which 56 grains are pure gold. This is equivalent to 86 grains of chloride of gold, which will therefore be the quantity contained in the solution. The following process for preparing chloride of gold is more perfect than the last:--dissolve the gold coin in aqua-regia as before; then boil with excess of hydrochloric acid to destroy the nitric acid, dilute largely with distilled water, and add a filtered aqueous solution of common sulphate of iron (6 parts in 1 part of gold); collect the precipitated gold, which is now free from copper; re-dissolve in aqua-regia, and evaporate to dryness on a water bath. Avoid using ammonia to neutralize chloride of gold, as it would be liable to occasion a deposit of "fulminating gold," the properties of which are described immediately following. _Properties of Chloride of Gold._--As sold in commerce it usually contains excess of hydrochloric acid, and is then of a bright yellow color; but when neutral and somewhat concentrated it is dark red (_Leo ruber_ of the alchemists). It gives no precipitate with carbonate of soda, unless heat be applied; the free hydrochloric acid present forms, with the alkali, chloride of sodium, which unites with the chloride of gold, and produces a double salt, chloride of gold and sodium, soluble in water. Chloride of gold is decomposed with precipitation of metallic gold by charcoal, sulphurous acid, and many of the vegetable acids; also by protosulphate and protonitrate of iron. It tinges the cuticle of an indelible purple tint. It is soluble in alcohol and in ether. Gold, Fulminating. This is a yellowish-brown substance, precipitated on adding ammonia to a strong solution of chloride of gold. It may be dried carefully at 212°, but _explodes violently_ on being heated suddenly about to 290°. Friction also causes it to explode when dry; but the moist powder may be rubbed or handled without danger. It is decomposed by sulphuretted hydrogen. Fulminating gold is probably an aurate of ammonia, containing 2 atoms of ammonia to 1 atom of peroxide of gold. Gold, Hyposulphite of. Symbol, AuO S{2}O{2}. Atomic Weight, 253. Hyposulphite of gold is produced by the reaction of chloride of gold upon hyposulphite of soda. The salt sold in commerce as sel d'or is a double hyposulphite of gold and soda, containing one atom of the former salt to three of the latter, with four atoms of water of crystallization. It is formed by adding one part of chloride of gold, in solution, to three parts of hyposulphite of soda, and precipitating the resulting salt by alcohol; the chloride of gold must be added to the hyposulphite of soda, and not the soda salt to the gold. _Properties._--Hyposulphite of gold is unstable and cannot exist in an isolated state, quickly passing into sulphur, sulphuric acid, and metallic gold. When combined with excess of hyposulphite of soda in the form of sel d'or, it is more permanent. Sel d'or occurs crystallized in fine needles, which are very soluble in water. The commercial article is often impure, containing little else than hyposulphite of soda, with a trace of gold. It may be analyzed by adding a few drops of strong nitric acid (free from chlorine) diluting with water, and afterwards collecting and igniting the yellow powder, which is metallic gold. Grape Sugar. Symbol, C{24}H{28}O{28}. Atomic weight, 366. This modification of sugar, often termed _granular sugar_, or _glucose_, exists abundantly in the juice of grapes, and in many other varieties of fruit. It forms the saccharine concretion found in honey, raisins, dried figs, etc. It may be produced artificially by the action of fermenting principles, and of dilute mineral acids, upon starch. _Properties._--Grape sugar crystallizes slowly and with difficulty from a concentrated aqueous solution, in small hemispherical nodules, which are hard, and feel gritty between the teeth. It is much less sweet to the taste than cane sugar, and not so soluble in Water (1 part dissolves in 1-1/2 of cold water). Grape sugar tends to absorb oxygen, and hence it possesses the property of decomposing the salts of the noble metals, and reducing them by degrees to the metallic state, even without the aid of lights The action however in the case of _nitrate of silver_ is slow, unless the temperature be somewhat elevated. _Cane_ sugar does not possess these properties to an equal extent, and hence it is readily distinguished from the other variety. Honey. This substance contains two distinct kinds of sugar, grape sugar, and an uncrystallizable substance analogous to, or identical with, the treacle found associated with common sugar in the cane juice. The agreeable taste of honey probably depends upon the latter, but its reducing power on metallic oxides is due to the former. Pure grape sugar can readily be obtained from inspissated honey, by treating it with alcohol, which dissolves out the syrup, but leaves the crystalline portion. Hydrochloric; Acid. Symbol, HCl. Atomic weight, 37. Hydrochloric acid is a volatile gas, Which may be liberated from the salts termed chlorides by the action of sulphuric acid. The acid, by its superior affinities, removes the base; thus,-- NaCl + HO SO{3} = NaO SO{3} + HCl. _Properties._--Abundantly soluble in water, forming the liquid hydrochloric or muriatic acid of commerce. The most concentrated solution of hydrochloric acid has a sp. gr. 1·2, and contains about 40 per cent, of gas; that commonly sold is somewhat weaker, sp; gr. 1·14 = 28 per cent. real acid. Pure hydrochloric acid is colorless, and fumes in the air. The yellow color of the commercial acid depends upon the presence of traces of perchloride of iron or organic matter; commercial muriatic acid also often contains a portion of free chlorine and of sulphuric acid. Hydriodic Acid. Symbol, HI. Atomic weight, 127. This is a gaseous compound of hydrogen and iodine, corresponding in composition to the hydrochloric acid. It cannot, however, from its instability, be obtained in the same manner, since, on distilling an iodide with sulphuric acid, the hydriodic acid first formed is subsequently decomposed into iodine and hydrogen. An aqueous solution of hydriodic acid is easily prepared by adding iodine to water containing sulphuretted hydrogen gas; a decomposition takes place, and sulphur is set free; thus: HS + I = HI + S. _Properties._--Hydriodic acid is very soluble in water, yielding a strongly acid liquid. The solution, colorless at first, soon becomes brown from decomposition, and liberation of free iodine. It may be restored to its original condition by adding solution of sulphuretted hydrogen. Hydrosulphuric Acid. Symbol, HS. Atomic weighty 17. This substance, also known as sulphuretted hydrogen, is a gaseous compound of sulphur and hydrogen, analogous in composition to hydrochloric and hydriodic acids. It is usually prepared by the action of dilute sulphuric acid upon sulphuret of iron, the decomposition being similar to that involved in the preparation of the hydrogen acids generally:-- FeS + HO SO{3} = FeO SO{3} + HS. _Properties._--Cold water absorbs three times its bulk of hydrosulphuric acid, and acquires the peculiar putrid odor and poisonous qualities of the gas. The solution is faintly acid to test-paper, and becomes opalescent on keeping, from gradual separation of sulphur. It is decomposed by nitric acid, and also by chlorine and iodine. It precipitates silver from its solutions, in the form of black sulphuret of silver; also copper, mercury, lead, etc.; but iron and other metals of that class are not affected, if the liquid contains free acid. Hydrosulphuric acid is constantly employed in the chemical laboratory for these and other purposes. Hydrosulphate of Ammonia. Symbol, NH{4}S HS. Atomic weight, 51. The liquid known by this name, and formed by passing sulphuretted hydrogen gas into ammonia, is a double sulphuret of hydrogen and ammonium. In the preparation, the passage of the gas is to be continued until the solution gives no precipitate with sulphate of magnesia and smells strongly of hydrosulphuric acid. Properties,--Colorless at first, but afterwards changes to yellow, from liberation and subsequent solution of sulphur. Becomes milky on the addition of any acid. Precipitates, in the form of sulphuret, all the metals which are affected by sulphuretted hydrogen; and, in addition, those of the class to which iron, zinc, and manganese, belong. Hydrosulphate of ammonia is employed in photography to darken the negative image, and also in the preparation of iodide of ammonium; the separation of silver from hyposulphite solutions, etc. Hyposulphite of Soda. Symbol, NaO S{2}H{2} + 5 HO. Atomic weight, 125. The hyposulphite of soda commonly employed by photographers is a neutral combination of hyposulphurous acid and the alkali soda. It is selected as being more economical in preparation than any other hyposulphite adapted for fixing. Hyposulphite of soda occurs in the form of large translucent groups of crystals, which include five atoms of water. These crystals are soluble in water almost to any extent, the solution being attended with the production of cold; they have a nauseous and bitter taste. Hyposulphite of Gold. (_See_ Gold, Hyposulphite of.) Hyposulphite of Silver. (_See_ Silver, Hyposulphite of.) Iceland Moss. _Cetraria Islandica._--A species of lichen found in Iceland and the mountainous parts of Europe; when boiled in water, it first swells up, and then yields a substance which gelatinizes on cooling. It contains lichen starch; a bitter principle soluble in alcohol, termed "cetrarine;" and common starch; traces of gallic acid and bitartrate of potash are also present. Iodine. Symbol, I. Atomic weight, 126. Iodine is chiefly prepared at Glasgow, from _kelp_, which is the fused ash obtained by burning seaweeds. The waters of the ocean contain minute quantities of the iodides of sodium and magnesium, which are separated and stored up by the growing tissues of the marine plant. In the preparation, the mother-liquor of kelp is evaporated to dryness and distilled with sulphuric acid; the hydriodic acid first liberated is decomposed by the high temperature, and fumes of iodine condense in the form of opaque crystals. _Properties._--Iodine has a bluish-black color and metallic lustre; it stains the skin yellow, and has a pungent smell, like diluted chlorine. It is extremely volatile when moist, boils at 350°, and produces dense violet-colored fumes, which condense in brilliant plates. Specific gravity 4·946. Iodine is very sparingly soluble in water, 1 part requiring 7000 parts for perfect solution: even this minute quantity however tinges the liquid of a brown color. Alcohol and ether dissolve it more abundantly, forming dark-brown solutions. Iodine also dissolves freely in solutions of the alkaline iodides, such as the iodide of potassium, of sodium, and of ammonium. _Chemical Properties._--Iodine belongs to the chlorine group of elements, characterized by forming acids with hydrogen, and combining extensively with the metals (see chlorine). They are however comparatively indifferent to oxygen, and also to each other. The iodides of the alkalies and alkaline earths are soluble in water; also those of iron, zinc, cadmium, etc. The iodides of lead, silver, and mercury are nearly or quite insoluble. Iodine possesses the property of forming a compound of a deep blue color with starch. In using this as a test, it is necessary first to liberate the iodine (if in combination), by means of chlorine, or nitric acid saturated with peroxide of nitrogen. The presence of alcohol or ether interferes to a certain extent with the result. Iodide of Ammonium. Symbol, NH{4}I. Atomic weight, 144. This salt may be prepared by adding carbonate of ammonia to iodide of iron, but more easily by the following process:--A strong solution of hydrosulphate of ammonia is first made, by passing sulphuretted hydrogen gas into liquor ammoniæ To this liquid iodine is added until the whole of the sulphuret of ammonium has been converted into iodide. When this point is reached, the solution at once colors brown from solution of free iodine. On the first addition of the iodine, an escape of sulphuretted hydrogen gas and a dense deposit of sulphur take place. After the decomposition of the hydrosulphate of ammonia is complete, a portion of hydriodic acid--formed by the mutual reaction of sulphuretted hydrogen and iodine--attacks any carbonate of ammonia which may be present, and causes an effervescence. The effervescence being over, the liquid is still acid to test-paper, from excess of hydriodic acid; it is to be cautiously neutralized with ammonia, and evaporated by the heat of a water-bath to the crystallizing point. The crystals should be thoroughly dried over a dish of sulphuric acid, and then sealed in small tubes containing each about half a drachm of the salt; by this means it will be preserved colorless. Iodide of ammonium is very soluble in alcohol, but it is not advisable to keep it in solution, from the rapidity with which it decomposes and becomes brown. The most common impurity of commercial iodide of ammonium is sulphate of ammonia; it is detected by its sparing insolubility in alcohol. Iodide of Cadmium. Symbol, CdI. Atomic weight, 182. This salt is formed by heating filings of metallic cadmium with iodine, or by mixing the two together with addition of water. It is useful in iodizing collodion intended for keeping, since it does not become brown from liberation of free iodine with the same rapidity as the alkaline iodides. Iodide of cadmium is very soluble both in alcohol and water; the solution yielding on evaporation large six-sided tables of a pearly lustre, which are permanent in the air. The crystalline form of this salt is a sufficient criterion of its purity. Iodide of Iron. Symbol, FeI. Atomic weight, 154. Iodide of iron, in a fit state for photographic use, is easily obtained by dissolving a drachm of iodine in an ounce of _proof spirit_--that is, a mixture of equal bulks of spirits of wine and water--and adding an excess of iron filings. After a few hours, a green solution is obtained without the aid of heat. The presence of metallic iron in excess prevents the liberation of iodine and deposit of peroxide of iron which would otherwise speedily occur. It is very soluble in water and alcohol, but the solution rapidly absorbs oxygen and deposits peroxide of iron; hence the importance of preserving it in contact with metallic iron, with which the separated iodine may recombine. By very careful evaporation, hydrated crystals of protoiodide may be obtained, but the composition of the solid salt usually sold under that name cannot be depended on. The _periodide_ of iron, corresponding to the perchloride, has not been examined, and it is doubtful if any such compound exists. Iodide of Potassium. Symbol, KI. Atomic weight, 166. This salt is usually formed by dissolving iodine in solution of potash until it begins to acquire a brown color; a mixture of iodide of potassium and _iodate of potash_ (KO IO{5}) is thus formed; but by evaporation and heating to redness, the latter salt parts with its oxygen, and is converted into iodide of potassium. _Properties._--It forms cubic and prismatic crystals, which should be hard, and _very slightly or not at all deliquescent_. Soluble in less than an equal weight of water at 60°; it is also soluble in alcohol, but not in ether. The proportion of iodide of potassium contained in a saturated alcoholic solution, varies with the strength of the spirit,--with common spirits of wine, sp. gr. ·836, it would be about 8 grains to the drachm; with alcohol rectified from carbonate of potash, sp. gr. ·823, 4 or 5 grains: with absolute alcohol, 1 to 2 grains. The solution of iodide of potassium is instantly colored brown by free chlorine; also very rapidly by peroxide of nitrogen; ordinary acids, however, act less quickly, hydriodic acid being first formed, and subsequently decomposing spontaneously. Iodide of potassium, as sold in the shops, is often contaminated with various impurities. The first and most remarkable is _carbonate of potash_. When a sample of iodide of potassium contains much carbonate of potash, it forms small and imperfect crystals, which are strongly alkaline to test-paper, and become moist on exposure to the air, from the deliquescent nature of the alkaline carbonate. _Sulphate of potash_ is also a common impurity; it may be detected by chloride of barium. _Chloride of potassium_ is another impurity; it is detected as follows:--Precipitate the salt by an equal weight of nitrate of silver, and treat the yellow mass with solution of ammonia; if any chloride of silver is present, it dissolves in the ammonia, and after nitration is re-precipitated in white curds by the addition of an excess of pure nitric acid. If the nitric acid employed is not pure, but contains traces of free chlorine, the iodide of silver must be well washed with distilled water before treating it with ammonia, or the excess of free nitrate of silver dissolving in the ammonia would, on neutralizing, produce chloride of silver, and so cause an error. _Iodide of potash_ is a fourth impurity often found in iodide of potassium: to detect it, add a drop of dilute sulphuric acid, or a crystal of citric acid, to the solution of the iodide; when, if much iodate be present, the liquid will become yellow from liberation of free iodine. The rationale of this reaction is as follows:--The sulphuric acid unites with the base of the salt, and liberates hydriodic acid (HI), _a colorless compound_; but if iodic acid (IO{5}) be also present, it decomposes the hydriodic acid first formed, oxidizing the hydrogen into water (HO), and setting free the iodine. The immediate production of a yellow color on adding a weak acid to aqueous solution of iodide of potassium is, therefore, a proof of the presence of an iodate. As iodate of potash is thought to render collodion insensitive (?), this point should be attended to. Iodide of potassium may be rendered very pure by recrystallizing from spirit, or by dissolving in strong alcohol of sp. gr. ·823, in which sulphate, carbonate, and iodate of potash are insoluble. The proportion of iodide of potassium contained in saturated alcoholic solutions varies with the strength of the spirit. Solution of chloride of barium is commonly used to detect impurities in iodide of potassium; it forms a white precipitate if carbonate, iodate, or sulphate be present. In the two former cases the precipitate dissolves on the addition of _pure_ dilute nitric acid, but in the latter it is insoluble. The commercial iodide, however, is rarely so pure as to remain quite clear on the addition of chloride of barium, a _mere opalescence_, therefore, may be disregarded. Iodide of Silver. (_See_ Silver, Iodide of.) Iron, Protosulphate of. Symbol, FeO SO{3} + 7 HO. Atomic weight, 139. This salt, often termed _copperas_ or _green vitriol_, is a most abundant substance, and used for a variety of purposes in the arts. Commercial sulphate of iron, however, being prepared on a large scale, requires recrystallization to render it sufficiently pure for photographic purposes. Pure sulphate of iron occurs in the form of large, transparent prismatic crystals, of a delicate green color: by exposure to the air they gradually absorb oxygen and become rusty on the surface. Solution of sulphate of iron, colorless at first, afterwards changes to a red tint, and deposits a brown powder; this powder is a _basic_ persulphate of iron, that is, a persulphate containing an excess of the oxide or _base_. By the addition of sulphuric or acetic acid to the solution, the formation of a _deposit_ is prevented, the brown powder being soluble in acid liquids. The crystals of sulphate of iron include a large quantity of water of crystallization, a part of which they lose by exposure to dry air. By a higher temperature, the salt may be rendered perfectly _anhydrous_, in which state it forms a white powder. Aqueous solution of sulphate of iron absorbs the _binoxide of nitrogen_, acquiring a deep olive-brown color: as this gaseous binoxide is itself a reducing agent, the liquid so formed has been proposed as a more energetic developer than the sulphate of iron alone. Iron, Protonitrate of. Symbol, FeO NO{5} + 7 HO. Atomic weight, 153. This salt, by careful evaporation _in vacuo_ over sulphuric acid, forms transparent crystals, of a light green color, and containing 7 atoms of water, like the protosulphate. It is exceedingly unstable, and soon becomes red from decomposition, unless preserved from contact with air. The following process is commonly followed for preparing protonitrate of iron:-- Take of nitrate of baryta 300 grains; powder and dissolve by the aid of heat in three ounces of water; then throw in, by degrees, with constant stirring, crystallized sulphate of iron, _powdered_, 320 grains. Continue to stir for about five or ten minutes. Allow to cool, and filter from the white deposit, which is the insoluble sulphate of baryta. In place of nitrate of baryta, the nitrate of lead may be used (sulphate of lead being an insoluble salt), but the quantity required will be different. The atomic weights of nitrate of baryta and nitrate of lead are as 131 to 166; consequently 300 grains of the former are equivalent to 380 grains of the latter. Iron, Perchloride of. Symbol, Fe{2}Cl{3}. Atomic weight, 164. There are two chlorides of iron, corresponding in composition to the protoxide and the sesquioxide respectively. The protochloride is very soluble in water, forming a green solution, which precipitates a dirty white protoxide on the addition of an alkali. The perchloride, on the other hand, is dark brown, and gives a foxy-red precipitate with alkalies. _Properties._--Perchloride of iron may be obtained in the solid form by heating iron wire in excess of chlorine; it condenses in the shape of brilliant and iridescent brown crystals, which are volatile, and dissolve in water, the solution being acid to test-paper. It is also soluble in alcohol, forming the _tinctura ferri sesquichloridi_ of the Pharmacopoeia. Commercial perchloride of iron ordinarily contains an excess of hydrochloric acid. Litmus. Litmus is a vegetable substance, prepared from various _lichens_, which are principally collected on rocks adjoining the sea. The coloring matter is extracted by a peculiar process, and afterwards made up into a paste with chalk, plaster of Paris, &c. Litmus occurs in commerce in the form of small cubes, of a fine violet color. In using it for the preparation of test-papers, it is digested in hot water, and sheets of porous paper are soaked in the blue liquid so formed. The red papers are prepared at first in the same manner, but afterwards placed in water which has been rendered faintly acid with sulphuric or hydrochloric acid. Mercury, Bichloride of. Symbol, HgCl{2}. Atomic weight, 274. This salt, also called corrosive sublimate, and sometimes _chloride of mercury_ (the atomic weight of mercury being halved), may be formed by heating mercury in excess of chlorine, or, more economically, by subliming a mixture of persulphate of mercury and chloride of sodium. _Properties._--a very corrosive and poisonous salt, usually sold in semi-transparent, crystalline masses, or in the state of powder. Soluble in 16 parts of cold, and in 3 of hot water; more abundantly so in alcohol, and also in ether. The solubility in water may be increased almost to any extent by the addition of free hydrochloric acid. The protochloride of mercury is an insoluble white powder, commonly known under the name of _calomel_. Milk. The milk of herbivorous animals contains three principal constituents--fatty matter, caseine, and sugar; in addition to these, small quantities of the chloride of potassium, and of phosphates of lime and magnesia, are present. The fatty matter is contained in small cells, and forms the greater part of the cream which rises to the surface of the milk on standing. Hence _skimmed_ milk is to be preferred for photographic use. The second constituent, _caseine_, is an organic principle somewhat analogous to albumen in composition and properties. Its aqueous solution however does not, like albumen, _coagulate_ on boiling, unless _an acid_ be present, which probably removes a small portion of alkali with which the caseine was previously combined. The substance termed "rennet," which is the dried stomach of the calf, possesses the property of coagulating caseine, but the exact mode of its action is unknown. Sherry wine is also employed to curdle milk; but brandy and other spirituous liquids, when free from acid and astringent matter, have no effect. In all these cases a proportion of the caseine usually remains in a soluble form in the _whey_; but when the milk is coagulated by the addition of acids, the quantity so left is very small, and hence the use of the rennet is to be preferred, since the presence of caseine facilitates the reduction of the sensitive silver salts. Caseine combines with oxide of silver in the same manner as albumen, forming a white coagulum, which becomes _brick-red_ on exposure to light. Sugar of milk, the third principal constituent, differs from both cane and grape sugar; it may be obtained by evaporating _whey_ until crystallization begins to take place. It is hard and gritty, and only slightly sweet; slowly soluble, without forming a syrup, in about two and a half parts of boiling, and six of cold water. It does not ferment and form alcohol on the addition of yeast, like grape sugar, but by the action of _decomposing animal matter_ is converted into lactic acid. When skimmed milk is exposed to the air for some hours it gradually becomes _sour_, from lactic acid formed in this way; and if then heated to ebullition, the caseine coagulates very perfectly. Nitric Acid. Symbol, NO{5}. Atomic weight, 54. Nitric acid, or _aqua-fortis_, is prepared by adding sulphuric acid to nitrate of potash, and distilling the mixture in a retort. Sulphate of potash and free nitric acid are formed, the latter of which, being volatile, distils over in combination with one atom of water previously united with sulphuric acid. _Properties._--Anhydrous nitric acid is a solid substance, white and crystalline, but it cannot be prepared except by an expensive and complicated process. The concentrated liquid nitric acid contains 1 atom of water, and has a sp. gr. of about 1·5: if perfectly pure it is colorless, but usually it has a slight yellow tint, from partial decomposition into peroxide of nitrogen: it fumes strongly in the air. The strength of commercial nitric acid is subject to much variation. An acid of sp. gr. 1·42, containing about 4 atoms of water, is commonly met with. If the specific gravity is much lower than this (less than 1·36), it will scarcely be adapted for the preparation of peroxyline. The yellow _nitrous acid_, so called, is a strong nitric acid partially saturated with the brown vapors of peroxide of nitrogen; it has a high specific gravity, but this is somewhat deceptive, being caused in part by the presence of the peroxide. On mixing with sulphuric acid the color disappears, a compound being formed which has been termed a _sulphate of nitrous acid_. _Chemical properties._--Nitric acid is a powerful oxidizing agent; it dissolves all the common metals, with the exception of gold and platinum. Animal substances, such as the cuticle, nails, etc., are tinged of a permanent yellow color, and deeply corroded by a prolonged application. Nitric acid forms a numerous class of salts, all of which _are soluble in water_. Hence its presence cannot be determined by any precipitating re-agent, in the same manner as that of hydrochloric and sulphuric acid. _Impurities of Commercial Nitric Acid._--These are principally _chlorine_ and _sulphuric acid_; also peroxide of nitrogen, which tinges the acid yellow, as already described. Chlorine is detected by diluting the acid with an equal bulk of distilled water, and adding a few drops of nitrate of silver,--a _milkiness_, which is chloride of silver in suspension, indicates the presence of chlorine. In testing for sulphuric acid, dilute the nitric acid as before, and drop in _a single drop_ of solution of chloride of barium; if sulphuric acid be present, an insoluble precipitate of sulphate of baryta will be formed. Nitrous Acid. (_See_ Silver, Nitrate of.) Nitrate of Potash. Symbol, KO NO{5}. Atomic weight, 102. This salt, also termed _nitre_ or _saltpetre_, is an abundant natural product, found effloresced upon the soil in certain parts of the East Indies. It is also produced artificially in what are called nitre-beds. Nitrate of potash is _an anhydrous salt_,--it contains simply nitric acid and potash, without any water of crystallization; still, in many cases, a little water is retained mechanically between the interstices of the crystals, and therefore it is better to dry before use. This may be done by laying it in a state of fine powder upon blotting-paper, close to a fire, or upon a heated metallic plate. Nitrate of Baryta. Symbol, BaO NO{5}. Atomic weight, 131. Nitrate of baryta forms octahedral crystals, which are anhydrous. It is considerably less soluble than the chloride of barium, requiring 12 parts of cold and 4 of boiling water for solution. It may be substituted for the nitrate of lead in the preparation of protonitrate of iron. Nitrate of Lead. Symbol, PbO NO{5}. Atomic weight, 166. Nitrate of lead is obtained by dissolving the metal, or the oxide of lead, in _excess_ of nitric acid, diluted with 2 parts of water. It crystallizes on evaporation in white anhydrous tetrahedra and octahedra, which are hard, and decrepitate on being heated; they are soluble in 8 parts of water at 60°. Nitrate of lead forms with sulphuric acid, or soluble sulphates, a white precipitate, which is the insoluble sulphate of lead. The _Iodide_ of lead is also very sparingly soluble in water. Nitrate of Silver. (_See_ Silver, Nitrate of.) Nitro-Hydrochloric Acid. Symbol, NO{4} + Cl. This liquid is the aqua-regia of the old alchemists. It is produced by mixing nitric and hydrochloric acids: the oxygen contained in the former combines with the hydrogen of the latter, forming water and liberating chlorine, thus:-- NO{5} + HCl = NO{4} + HO + Cl. The presence of free chlorine confers on the mixture the power of dissolving gold and platinum, which neither of the two acids possesses separately. In preparing aqua-regia it is usual to mix one part, by measure, of nitric acid with four of hydrochloric acid, and to dilute with an equal bulk of water. The application of a gentle heat assists the solution of the metal; but if the temperature rises to the boiling point, a violent effervescence and escape of chlorine takes place. Oxygen. Symbol, O. Atomic weight, 8. Oxygen gas may be obtained by heating nitrate of potash to redness, but in this case it is contaminated with a portion of nitrogen. The salt termed chlorate of potash (the composition of which is closely analogous to that of the nitrate, chlorine being substituted for nitrogen) yields abundance of pure oxygen gas on the application of heat, leaving behind chloride of potassium. _Chemical Properties._--Oxygen combines eagerly with many of the chemical elements, forming oxides. This chemical affinity however is not well seen when the elementary body is exposed to the action of _oxygen in the gaseous form_. It is the _nascent_ oxygen which acts most powerfully as an oxidizer. By nascent oxygen is meant oxygen on the point of separation from other elementary atoms with which it was previously associated; it may then be considered to be in the liquid form, and hence it comes more perfectly into contact with the particles of the body to be oxidized. Illustrations of the superior chemical energy of nascent oxygen are numerous, but none perhaps are more striking than the mild and gradual oxidizing influence exerted by atmospheric air, as compared with the violent action of nitric acid and bodies of that class which contain oxygen loosely combined. Oxymel. This syrup of honey and vinegar is prepared as follows:--Take of Honey 1 pound. Acid, acetic, fortiss. (Beaufoy's acid) 11 drachms. Water 13 drachms. Stand the pot containing the honey in boiling water until a scum rises to the surface, which is to be removed two or three times. Then add the acetic acid and water, and skim once more if required. Allow to cool, and it will be fit for use. Potash. Symbol, KO + HO. Atomic weight, 57. Potash is obtained by separating the carbonic acid from carbonate of potash by means of caustic lime. Lime is a more feeble base than potash, but the carbonate of lime, being _insoluble_ in water, is at once formed on adding milk of lime to a solution of carbonate of potash. _Properties._--Usually met with in the form of solid lumps, or in cylindrical sticks, which are formed by melting the potash and running it into a mould. It always contain some atoms of water, which cannot be driven off by the application of heat. Potash is soluble almost to any extent in water, much heat being evolved. The solution is powerfully alkaline and acts rapidly upon the skin; it dissolves fatty and resinous bodies, converting them into soaps; Solution of potash absorbs carbonic acid quickly from the air, and should therefore be preserved in stoppered bottles; the glass stoppers must be wiped occasionally, in order to prevent them from becoming immovably fixed by the solvent action of the potash upon the silica of the glass. The liquor potassæ of the London Pharmacopoeia has a sp. gr. of 1·063, and contains about 5 per cent; of real potash. It is usually contaminated with _carbonate_ of potash, which causes it to effervesce on the addition of acids; also, to a less extent, with sulphate of potash, chloride of potassium, silica, etc. Potash, Carbonate of. Symbol, KO CO{2}. Atomic weight, 70. The impure carbonate of potash, termed _pearlash_, is obtained from the ashes of wood and vegetable matter, in the same manner as carbonate of soda is prepared from the ashes of seaweeds. Salts of potash and of soda appear essential to vegetation, and are absorbed and approximated by the living tissues of the plant. They exist in the vegetable structure combined with organic acids in the form of salts, like the oxalate, tartrate, etc., which when burned are converted into carbonates. _Properties._--The pearlash of commerce contains large and variable quantities of chloride of potassium, sulphate of potash, etc. A purer carbonate is sold, which is free from sulphates, and with only a trace of chlorides. Carbonate of potash is a strongly alkaline salt, deliquescent, and soluble in twice its weight of cold water; insoluble in alcohol, and employed to deprive it of water. Pyrogallic Acid. Symbol, C{8}H{4}O{4} (Stenhouse). Atomic weight. 84. The term _pyro_ prefixed to gallic acid implies that the new substance is obtained by the _action of heat_ upon that body. At a temperature of about 410° Fahr., gallic acid is decomposed, and a white sublimate forms, which condenses in lamellar Crystals; this is pyrogallic acid. Pyrogallic acid is very soluble in cold water, and in alcohol and ether; the solution decomposes and becomes brown by exposure to the air. It gives an indigo blue color with protosulphate of iron, which changes to dark green if any persulphate be present. Although termed an _acid_, this substance is strictly _neutral_; it does not redden litmus-paper, and forms no salts. The addition of potash or soda decomposes pyrogallic acid, at the same time increasing the attraction for oxygen; hence this mixture may conveniently be employed for absorbing the oxygen contained in atmospheric air. The compounds of silver and gold are reduced by pyrogallic acid even more rapidly than by gallic acid, the reducing agent absorbing the oxygen, and becoming converted into carbonic acid and a brown matter insoluble in water. Commercial pyrogallic acid is often contaminated with empyreumatic oil, and also with a black insoluble substance known as _metagallic acid_, which is formed when the heat is raised above the proper temperature in the process of manufacture. Sel D'or. (_See_ Gold, Hyposulphite of.) Silver. Symbol, Ag. Atomic Weight, 108. This metal, the _luna_ or _diana_ of the alchemists, is found native in Peru and Mexico; it occurs also in the form of sulphuret of silver. When pure it has a sp. gr. of 10·5, and is very malleable and ductile; melts at a bright red heat. Silver does not oxidize in the air, but when exposed to an impure atmosphere containing traces of sulphuretted hydrogen, it is slowly tarnished from formation of sulphuret of silver. It dissolves in sulphuric acid, but the best solvent is nitric acid. The standard coin of the realm is an alloy of silver and copper, containing about one-eleventh of the latter metal. It may be converted into nitrate of silver, sufficiently pure for photographic purposes, by dissolving it in nitric acid and evaporating the solution to the crystallizing point: or, if the quantity be small, the solution may be boiled down to complete dryness, and the residue _fused_ strongly; which decomposes the nitrate of copper, but leaves the greater portion of the silver salt unaffected. (N. B. Nitrate of silver which has undergone fusion contains nitrite of silver, and will require the addition of acetic acid if used for preparing the collodion sensitive film.) Silver, Ammonio-Nitrate of. Crystallized nitrate of silver absorbs ammoniacal gas rapidly, with production of heat sufficient to fuse the resulting compound, which is white, and consists of 100 parts of the nitrate + 29·5 of ammonia. The compound however which photographers employ under the name of ammonio-nitrate of silver, may be viewed more simply as a solution of the oxide of silver in ammonia, without reference to the nitrate of ammonia necessarily produced in the reaction. Very strong ammonia, in acting upon oxide of silver, converts it into a black powder, termed _fulminating silver_, which possesses the most dangerous explosive properties. Its composition is uncertain. In preparing ammonio-nitrate of silver by the common process, the oxide first precipitated occasionally leaves a little black powder behind, on re-solution; this does not appear, however, according to the observations of the author, to be fulminating silver. In sensitizing salted paper by the ammonio-nitrate of silver, _free ammonia_ is necessarily formed. Thus:-- Chloride of ammonium + oxide of silver in ammonia = chloride of silver + ammonia + water. Silver, Oxide of. Symbol, AgO. Atomic weight, 116. If a little potash or ammonia be added to solution of nitrate of silver, a brown substance is formed, which, on standing, collects at the bottom of the vessel. This is oxide of silver, displaced from its previous state of combination with nitric acid by the stronger oxide, potash. Oxide of silver is soluble _to a very minute extent_ in pure water, the solution possessing an alkaline reaction to litmus; it is easily dissolved by nitric or acetic acid, forming a neutral nitrate or acetate; also soluble in ammonia (ammonio-nitrate of silver), and in nitrate of ammonia hyposulphite of soda, and cyanide of potassium. Long exposure to light converts it into a black substance, which is probably a suboxide. _Properties of the Suboxide of Silver._--Suboxide of silver bears the same relation to the ordinary brown protoxide of silver that subchloride bears to protochloride of silver. It is a black powder, which assumes the metallic lustre on rubbing, and when treated with dilute acids is resolved into protoxide of silver which dissolves, and metallic silver. Silver, Chloride of. Symbol, AgCl. Atomic weight, 144. _Preparation of Chloride of Silver by double decomposition._--In order to illustrate this, take a solution in water of chloride of sodium or "common salt," and mix it with a solution containing nitrate of silver; immediately a dense, curdy, white precipitate falls, which is the substance in question. In this reaction the elements change places; the chlorine leaves the sodium with which it was previously combined, and crosses over to the silver; the oxygen and nitric acid are released from the silver, and unite with the sodium: thus Chloride of sodium + nitrate of silver = Chloride of silver + nitrate of soda. This interchange of elements is termed by chemists _double decomposition_. The essential requirements in two salts intended for the preparation of chloride of silver, are simply that the first should contain chlorine, the second silver, and that both should be soluble in water; hence the chloride of potassium or ammonium may be substituted for the chloride of sodium, and the sulphate or acetate for the nitrate of silver. In preparing chloride of silver by double decomposition, the white clotty masses which first form must be washed repeatedly with water, in order to free them from soluble nitrate of soda, the other product of the change. When this is done, the salt is in a pure state, and may be dried, etc., in the usual way. _Properties of Chloride of Silver._--Chloride of silver differs in appearance from the nitrate of silver. It is not met with in crystals, but forms a soft white powder resembling common chalk or whiting. It is tasteless and insoluble in water; unaffected by boiling with the strongest nitric acid, but sparingly dissolved by concentrated hydrochloric acid. Ammonia dissolves chloride of silver freely, as do solutions of hyposulphite of soda and cyanide of potassium. Concentrated solutions of alkaline chlorides, iodides, and bromides are likewise solvents of chloride of silver, but to a limited extent. Dry chloride of silver heated to redness fuses, and concretes on cooling into a tough and semi-transparent substance, which has been termed _horn silver_ or _luna cornea_. Placed in contact with metallic zinc or iron acidified with dilute sulphuric acid, chloride of silver is reduced to the metallic state, the chlorine passing to the other metal under the decomposing influence of the galvanic current which is established. _Preparation and properties of the Subchloride of Silver._--If a plate of polished silver be dipped in solution of perchloride of iron, or of bichloride of mercury, a _black stain_ is produced, the iron or mercury salt losing a portion of chlorine, which passes to the silver and converts it superficially into subchloride of silver. This compound differs from the white chloride of silver in containing less chlorine and more of the metallic element; the composition of the latter being represented by the formula AgCl, that of the former may perhaps be written as Ag{2}Cl. (?) Subchloride of silver is interesting to the photographer as corresponding in properties and composition with the ordinary chloride of silver blackened by light. It is a pulverulent substance of a bluish-black color, which is decomposed by ammonia, hyposulphite of soda, and cyanide of potassium, into chloride of silver which dissolves, and insoluble metallic silver. Silver, Bromide of. Symbol, AgBr. Atomic weight, 186. This substance so closely resembles the corresponding salts containing, chlorine and iodine, that a short notice of it will suffice. Bromide of silver is prepared by exposing a silvered plate to the vapor of bromine, or by adding solution of bromide of potassium to nitrate of silver. It is an insoluble substance, slightly yellow in color, and distinguished from iodide of silver by dissolving in strong ammonia and in chloride of ammonium. It is freely soluble in hyposulphite of soda and in cyanide of potassium. Silver, Citrate of. (_See_ Citric Acid.) Silver, Iodide of. Symbol, AgI. Atomic weight, 234. _Preparation and Properties of Iodide of Silver._--Iodide of silver may be formed in an analogous manner to the chloride, viz. by the direct action of the vapor of iodine upon metallic silver, or by double decomposition between solutions of iodide of potassium and nitrate of silver. When prepared by the latter mode it forms an impalpable powder, the color of which varies slightly with the manner of precipitation. If the iodide of potassium be in excess, the iodide of silver falls to the bottom of the vessel nearly white; but with an excess of nitrate of silver it is of a straw-yellow tint. This point may be noticed, because the yellow salt is the one adapted for photographic use, the other being insensible to the influence of light. Iodide of silver is tasteless and inodorous; insoluble in water and in dilute nitric acid. It is scarcely dissolved by ammonia, which serves to distinguish it from the chloride of silver, freely soluble in that liquid. Hyposulphite of soda and cyanide of potassium both dissolve iodide of silver; it is also soluble in solutions of the alkaline bromides and iodides. Silver, Fluoride of. Symbol, AgF. Atomic weight, 127. This compound differs from those just described in being soluble in water. The dry salt fuses on being heated, and is reduced by a higher temperature, or by exposure to light. Silver, Sulphuret of. Symbol, AgS. Atomic weight, 124. This compound is formed by the action of sulphur upon metallic silver, or of sulphuretted hydrogen, or hydrosulphate of ammonia, upon the silver salts; the decomposition of hyposulphite of silver also furnishes the black sulphuret. Sulphuret of silver is insoluble in water, and nearly so in those substances which dissolve the chloride, bromide, and iodide, such as ammonia, hyposulphites, cyanides, etc.; but it dissolves in nitric acid, being converted into soluble sulphate and nitrate of silver. Silver, Nitrate of. Symbol, AgO NO{5}. Atomic weight, 170. Nitrate of silver is prepared by dissolving metallic silver in nitric acid. Nitric acid is a powerfully acid and corrosive substance, containing two elementary bodies united in definite proportions. These are nitrogen and oxygen; the latter being present in greatest quantity. Nitric acid is a powerful solvent for the metallic bodies generally. To illustrate its action in that particular, as contrasted with other acids, place pieces of silver foil in two test-tubes, the one containing dilute sulphuric, the other dilute nitric acid; on the application of heat a violent action soon commences in the latter, but the former is unaffected. In order to understand the cause of the difference, it must be borne in mind that when a metallic substance dissolves in an acid, the nature of the solution is unlike that of an _aqueous_ solution of salt or sugar. If you take salt water, and boil it down until the whole of the water has evaporated, you obtain the salt again, with properties the same as at first; but if a similar experiment be made with a solution of silver in nitric acid, the result is different: in that case you do not get metallic silver on evaporation, but silver _combined with oxygen_ and _nitric acid_, both of which are tightly retained, being, in fact, in a state of chemical combination with the metal. If we closely examine the effects produced by treating silver with nitric acid, we find them to be of the following nature:--first, a certain amount of oxygen is imparted to the metal, so as to form an _oxide_, and afterwards this oxide dissolves in another portion of the nitric acid, producing _nitrate_ of the oxide, or, as it is shortly termed, nitrate of silver. It is therefore the _instability_ of nitric acid, its proneness to part with oxygen, which renders it superior to sulphuric acid in the experiment of dissolving silver. Nitric acid stands high in the list of "oxidizing agents," and it is important that the photographer should bear this fact in mind. _Properties of Nitrate of Silver._--In the preparation of nitrate of silver, when the metal has dissolved, the solution is boiled down in order to drive off the excess of nitric acid, and set aside to crystallize. The salt, however, as so obtained is still acid to test-paper, and requires either recrystallization, or a careful heating to about 300° Fahrenheit, to render it perfectly neutral. Pure nitrate of silver occurs in the form of white crystalline plates, which are very heavy and dissolve readily in an equal weight of cold water. The solubility is much lessened by the presence of free nitric acid, and in the _concentrated_ nitric acid the crystals are almost insoluble. Boiling alcohol takes up about one-fourth part of its weight of the crystallized nitrate, but deposits nearly the whole on cooling. Nitrate of silver has an intensely bitter and nauseous taste; acting as a caustic, and corroding the skin by a prolonged application. Its aqueous solution is perfectly neutral to test-paper. Heated in a crucible the salt melts, and when poured into a mould and solidified, forms the _lunar caustic_ of commerce. At a still higher temperature it is decomposed, and bubbles of oxygen gas are evolved. The melted mass, cooled and dissolved in water, leaves behind a black powder, and yields a solution which is faintly alkaline to test-paper. The alkalinity depends upon the presence of _nitrite_ of silver associated with excess of oxide, in the form probably of a basic or _sub_-nitrite of silver.[B] [Footnote B: Nitrite of silver differs from the nitrate in containing less oxygen, and is formed from it by the abstraction of two atoms of that element.] Solution of nitrate of silver is decomposed by iron, zinc, copper, mercury, etc., the nitric acid and oxygen passing to the other metal, and metallic silver being precipitated. Silver, Nitrite of. Symbol, AgO NO{3}. Atomic weight, 154. Nitrite of silver is a compound of nitrous acid, or NO{3}, with oxide of silver. It is formed by heating nitrate of silver, so as to drive off a portion of its oxygen, or more conveniently, by mixing nitrate of silver and nitrate of potash in equal parts, fusing strongly, and dissolving in a small quantity of boiling water; on cooling, the nitrite crystallizes out, and may be purified by pressing in blotting paper. Mr. Hadow describes an economical method of preparing nitrite of silver in quantity, viz. by heating 1 part of starch in 8 of nitric acid of 1·25 specific gravity, and conducting the evolved gases into a solution of pure carbonate of soda until effervescence has ceased. The nitrite of soda thus formed is afterwards added to nitrate of silver in the usual way. _Properties._--Nitrite of silver is soluble in 120 parts of cold water; easily soluble in boiling water, and crystallizes, on cooling, in long slender needles. It has a certain degree of affinity for oxygen, and tends to pass into the condition of nitrate of silver; but it is probable that its photographic properties depend more upon a decomposition of the salt and liberation of nitrous acid. _Properties of Nitrous Acid._--This substance possesses very feeble acid properties, its salts being decomposed even by acetic acid. It is an unstable body, and splits up, in contact with water, into binoxide of nitrogen and nitric acid. The peroxide of nitrogen, NO{4}, is also decomposed by water and yields the same products. Silver, Acetate of. Symbol, AgO (C{4}H{3}O{3}). Atomic weight, 167. This is a difficultly soluble salt, deposited in lamellar crystals when an acetate is added to a strong solution of nitrate of silver. If _acetic acid_ be used in place of an acetate, the acetate of silver does not fall so readily, since the nitric acid which would then be liberated impedes the decomposition. Silver, Hyposulphite of. Symbol, AgO S{2}O{3} . Atomic weight, 164. In order to understand, more fully how _decomposition_ of hyposulphite of silver may affect the process of fixing, the peculiar properties of this salt should be studied. With this view nitrate of silver and hyposulphite of soda may be mixed in equivalent proportions, viz. about twenty-one grains of the former salt to sixteen grains of the latter, first dissolving each in separate vessels in half an ounce of distilled water. These solutions are to be added to each other and well agitated; immediately a dense deposit forms, which is hyposulphite of silver. At this point a curious series of changes commences. The precipitate, at first white and curdy, soon alters in color: it becomes canary-yellow, then of a rich orange-yellow, afterwards liver-color, and finally black. The _rationale_ of these changes is explained to a certain extent by studying the composition of the hyposulphite of silver. The formula for this substance is as follows:-- AgO S{2}O{2}, But AgO S{2}O{2} plainly equals AgS, or sulphuret of silver, and SO{3}, or sulphuric acid. The acid reaction assumed by the supernatant liquid is due therefore to sulphuric acid, and the black substance formed is sulphuret of silver. The yellow and orange-yellow compounds are earlier stages of the decomposition, but their exact nature is uncertain. The instability of hyposulphite of silver is principally seen when, it is in an isolated state: the presence of an excess of hyposulphite of soda renders it more permanent, by forming a double salt. In fixing photographic prints this brown deposit of sulphuret of silver is very liable to form in the bath and upon the picture; particularly so when the _temperature_ is high. To obviate it observe the following directions:--It is especially in the reaction between _nitrate of silver_ and hyposulphite of soda that the blackening is seen; the chloride and other _insoluble_ salts of silver being dissolved, even to saturation, without any decomposition of the hyposulphite first formed. Hence, if the print be washed in water to remove the soluble nitrate, a very much weaker fixing bath than usual may be employed. This plan, however, involving a little additional trouble, is, on that account, often objected to, and, when such is the case, a _concentrated_ solution of hyposulphite of soda must be used, in order to dissolve off the white hyposulphite of silver before it begins to decompose. When the proofs are taken at once from the printing frame and immersed in a _dilute_ bath of hyposulphite (one part of the salt to six or eight of water), _a shade of brown_ may often be observed to pass over the surface of the print, and a large deposit of sulphuret of silver soon forms as the result of this decomposition. On the other hand, with a strong hyposulphite bath there is little or no discoloration and the black deposit is absent. But even if, by a preliminary removal of the nitrate of silver, the danger of blackening be in a great measure obviated, yet the print must not be taken out of the fixing bath too speedily, or some appearance of brown patches, visible by transmitted light, may occur. Each atom of nitrate of silver requires _three_ atoms of hyposulphite of soda to form the _sweet and soluble double salt_, and hence, if the action be not continued sufficiently long, another compound will be formed almost tasteless and insoluble. Even immersion in a new bath of hyposulphite of soda does not fix the print when once the yellow stage of decomposition has been established. This yellow salt is insoluble in hyposulphite of soda, and consequently remains in the paper. Sugar of Milk. (_See_ Milk.) Sulphuretted Hydrogen. (_See_ Hydrosulphuric Acid.) Sulphuric Acid. Symbol, SO{3}. Atomic weight, 40. Sulphuric acid maybe formed by oxidizing sulphur with boiling nitric acid; but this plan would be too expensive to be adopted on a large scale. The commercial process for the manufacture of sulphuric acid is exceedingly ingenious and beautiful, but it involves reactions which are too complicated to admit of a superficial explanation. The sulphur is first burnt into gaseous sulphurous acid (SO{2}), and then, by the agency of binoxide of nitrogen gas, an additional atom of oxygen is imparted from the atmosphere, so as to convert the SO{2} into SO{3}, or sulphuric acid. _Properties._--Anhydrous sulphuric acid is a white crystalline solid. The strongest liquid acid always contains one atom of water, which is closely associated with it, and cannot be driven off by the application of heat. This _mono-hydrated_ sulphuric acid, represented by the formula HO SO{3}, is a dense fluid, having a specific gravity of about 1·845; boils at 620°, and distils without decomposition. It is not volatile at common temperatures, and therefore does not _fume_ in the same manner as nitric or hydrochloric acid. The concentrated acid may be cooled down even to zero without solidifying; but a weaker compound, containing twice the quantity of water, and termed _glacial_ sulphuric acid, crystallizes at 40° Fahr. Sulphuric acid is intensely acid and caustic, but it does not destroy the skin or dissolve metals so readily as nitric acid. It has an energetic attraction for water, and when the two are mixed, condensation ensues, and much heat is evolved; four parts of acid and one of water produce a temperature equal to that of boiling water. Mixed with aqueous nitric acid, it forms the compound known as nitro-sulphuric acid. Sulphuric acid possesses intense chemical powers, and displaces the greater number of ordinary acids from their salts. It _chars_ organic substances, by removing the elements of water, and converts alcohol into ether in a similar manner. The _strength_ of a given sample of sulphuric acid may generally be calculated from its specific gravity, and a table is given by Dr. Ure for that purpose. _Impurities of Commercial Sulphuric Acid._--The liquid acid sold as _oil of vitriol_ is tolerably constant in composition, and seems to be as well adapted for photographic use as the _pure_ sulphuric acid, which is far more expensive. The specific gravity should be about 1·836 at 60°. If a drop, evaporated upon platinum foil, gives a fixed residue, probably bisulphate of potash is present. A milkiness, on dilution, indicates sulphate of lead. _Test for Sulphuric Acid._--If the presence of sulphuric acid, or a soluble sulphate, be suspected in any liquid, it is tested for by adding a few drops of dilute solution of chloride of barium, or nitrate of baryta. A white precipitate, _insoluble in nitric acid_, indicates sulphuric acid. If the liquid to be tested is very acid, from nitric or hydrochloric acid, it must be largely diluted before testing, or a crystalline precipitate will form, caused by the sparing solubility of the chloride of barium itself in acid solutions. Sulphurous Acid. Symbol, SO{2}. Atomic weight, 32. This is a gaseous compound, formed by burning sulphur in atmospheric air or oxygen gas; also by heating oil of vitriol in contact with metallic copper, or with charcoal. When an acid of any kind is added to hyposulphite of soda, sulphurous acid is formed as a product of the decomposition of hyposulphurous acid, but it afterwards disappears from the liquid by a secondary reaction, resulting in the production of trithionate and tetrathionate of soda. _Properties._--Sulphurous acid possesses a peculiar and suffocating odor, familiar to all in the fumes of burning sulphur. It is a feeble acid, and escapes with effervescence, like carbonic acid, when its salts are treated with oil of vitriol. It is soluble in water. _Water._ Symbol, H{2}O. Atomic weight, 9. Water is an oxide of hydrogen, containing single atoms of each of the gases. _Distilled water_ is water which has been vaporized and again condensed: by this means it is freed from earthy and saline impurities, which, not being volatile, are left in the body of the retort. _Pure_ distilled water leaves no residue on evaporation, and should remain perfectly clear on the addition of nitrate of silver, _even when exposed to the light_; it should also be neutral to test-paper. The condensed water of steam-boilers sold as distilled water is apt to be contaminated with oily and empyreumatic matter, which discolors nitrate of silver, and is therefore injurious. _Rain-water_, having undergone a natural process of distillation, is free from inorganic salts, but it usually contains a minute portion of _ammonia_, which gives it an alkaline reaction to test-paper. It is very good for photographic purposes if collected in clean vessels, but when taken from a common rain-water tank should always be examined, and if much organic matter be present, tinging it of a brown color and imparting an unpleasant smell, it must be rejected. _Spring_ or _river_ water, commonly known as "hard water," usually contains sulphate of lime, and carbonate of lime dissolved in carbonic acid: also chloride of sodium in greater or less quantity. On boiling the water, the carbonic acid gas is evolved, and the greater part of the carbonate of lime (if any is present) deposits, forming an earthy incrustation on the boiler. In testing water for sulphates and chlorides, acidify a portion with a few drops of _pure_ nitric acid, free from chlorine (if this is not at hand, use pure acetic acid); then divide it into two parts, and add to the first a _dilute_ solution of chloride of barium, and to the second nitrate of silver,--a milkiness indicates the presence of sulphates in the first case or of chlorides in the second. The _photographic nitrate bath_ cannot be used as a test, since the iodide of silver it contains is precipitated on dilution, giving a milkiness which might be mistaken for chloride of silver. Common hard water can often be used for making a nitrate bath when nothing better is at hand. The chlorides it contains are precipitated by the nitrate of silver, leaving soluble _nitrates_ in solution, which are not injurious. The carbonate of lime, if any is present, neutralizes free nitric acid, rendering the bath alkaline in the same manner as carbonate of soda. Sulphate of lime, usually present in well water, is said to exercise a retarding action upon the sensitive silver salts, but on this point the writer is unable to give certain information. Hard water is not often sufficiently pure for the developing fluids. The chloride of sodium it contains decomposes the nitrate of silver upon the film, and the image cannot be brought out perfectly. The New River water, however supplied to many parts of London, is almost free from chlorides and answers very well. In other cases a few drops of nitrate of silver solution may be added to separate the chlorine, taking care not to use a large excess. Black Varnish. _Asphaltum, dissolved in Spirits or Oil of Turpentine._--The asphaltum may be coarsely pulverized and put into a bottle containing the turpentine, and in a few hours, if it be occasionally shaken, it will be dissolved and ready for use. It should be of about the consistency of thick paste. I use the above, but will now give two more compositions, for any who may wish to adopt them: _Black Japan._--Boil together a gallon of boiled linseed oil, 8 ounces of amber, and 3 ounces of asphaltum. When sufficiently cool, thin it with oil of turpentine. _Brunswick Black._--Melt 4 lbs. of asphaltum, add 2 lbs. of hot boiled linseed oil, and when sufficiently cool, add a gallon of oil of turpentine. The following is from _Humphrey's Journal_, Vol. viii, number 16. _Black Varnish._--I generally purchase this from the dealer; but I have made an article which answered the purpose well, by dissolving pulverized asphaltum in spirits of turpentine. Any of the black varnishes can be improved by the addition of a little bees'-wax to it. It is less liable to crack and gives an improved gloss. Before closing this chapter, it has been thought advisable to remark, that one of the most important departments of Photography is the practice of its chemistry. Many of the annoying failures experienced by those who are just engaging in the practice of the art, arise from the want of good and pure chemical agents, and the most certain way to avoid this, is to purchase them only from persons who thoroughly understand both their nature and mode of application. As many who may read this work might wish to know the prices of the various articles employed in the practice of the processes given, they can be informed by addressing the author, who will furnish them with a printed Price List. PRACTICAL DETAILS OF THE POSITIVE OR =AMBROTYPE PROCESS.= CHAPTER IV. LEWIS'S PATENT VICES FOR HOLDING THE GLASS--CLEANING AND DRYING THE GLASS--COATING--EXPOSURE IN THE CAMERA--DEVELOPING--FIXING OR BRIGHTENING--BACKING UP, &C. Manipulations. [Sidenote: MANIPULATIONS.] Under the head of manipulations I give the method I employ, and avoid confusion by omitting all comments upon the thousand suggestions of others. The glass is to have its sharp edges and corners removed, by drawing a file once or twice over it. The article used for holding the glass is called a vice. This vice is firmly secured to a bench. [Since the foregoing pages have been in type there has been introduced into market a new patent vice, adopted both for glass and plate blocks. I find it, although a little more expensive, an article better suited to the wants of the operator or amateur. It is called Lewis's Patent Glass Vice.] Clasp the glass firmly in the vice, and pour or _spurt_ upon it a little alcohol and rotten stone, previously formed into a paste, and then, with a piece of cotton flannel, the same as used in the daguerreotype, rub the glass until it is perfectly cleansed from all foreign substances, which will soon be known by experience. The rotten stone paste should not be allowed to dry while rubbing, as it is more liable to scratch the glass. I use another small bottle containing clear alcohol, which I spurt upon the glass, to obviate the drying. When the glass has been sufficiently cleaned, it should, while wet, be put in a vessel of water for future rinsing. Clean, as before, as many plates of glass as may be required, and when enough are ready, rinse them off in the water, and then in a quantity of clean water, or a running current, give them a second thorough rinsing, and set them aside to drain. A convenient method of doing this, is to drive two nails horizontally into the wall or partition, a sufficient distance apart (say about 2-1/2 inches) for the glass to rest on: the upper corner of the glass should be placed against the wall, and the extreme lower diagonal corner left hanging between the nails--which will probably be found the best position for draining yet suggested. After drying, they may be put into a box for safe and clean keeping. Particular caution is necessary to avoid handling the glass during the operation. I never take the glass between my fingers, so that they come in contact with _both sides_ of it, except at one particular corner, as at Figs. A and B. A quantity of glass prepared as above, may be kept on hand for use two or three days, and when wanted they should be again put into the vice[C] and cleaned, first with cotton flannel wet with alcohol, and then with dry flannel; and then, at a temperature slightly above that of the surrounding atmosphere, except in cases where the thermometer stands above 70°, it is ready for the brush,[D] which should be carefully applied to each surface, to free it from all particles of dust, and then it is ready for the film of collodion. [Footnote C: The vice should be thoroughly cleansed, and no particles of rotten stone, or other matter, be allowed to come in contact with the glass, as it might adhere to the edges and wash off into the silvering bath, and ultimately cause specks. Always remember that cleanliness is an indispensable requisite in order to produce a good picture.] [Footnote D: One of the most desirable articles I have found for this purpose is the wide (3 inch) flat camel's-hair brush often called a blender.] [Illustration: Fig. A. Fig. B.] The glass is held between the thumb and forefinger of the left hand by the corner 1, Fig. A., 3 and 4 towards and nearest the body, and as nearly level as possible. I find this the best position to hold the glass; as, in the case of the larger ones, they can be rested on the end of the little finger, which should be placed as near the edge as possible. Then, from the collodion vial, pour on the collodion, commencing a little beyond the centre and towards 1, continuing pouring in the same place until the collodion nearly reaches the thumb--the glass slightly inclined that way; then let the glass incline towards 4, and continue to pour towards 2. As soon as enough has been put on to liberally flow the glass, rapidly and steadily raise corner 1, and hold it directly over 3, where the excess will flow oil into the mouth of the vial, which should be placed there to receive it. In case of a speck of dust falling at the time of coating, it can often be prevented from injuring the surface by changing the direction of the flowing collodion, so as to stop it in some place where it will not be seen when the picture is finished. Now, with the thumb and finger of the right hand, I wipe off any drops or lines of collodion that may be found upon the _outer_ edge or side of the glass, being careful not to disturb that connected with the face. When the coating has become sufficiently dry, so that when I put my finger against it, it does not break the film, but only leaves a print, I put it into the silvering bath [_see_ Fig. p. 34]. I generally try corners 2 and 3. The time, from the first commencement of pouring on collodion to its being put into the bath, should not exceed about half a minute, at a temperature of 60°. The finger test is the best I have found. The glass is to be rested on a dipper [_see_ Fig. p. 34], and placed steadily and firmly into the nitrate of silver bath--this in a dark room. It should not be allowed to rest for an instant as it is entering the solution, or it would cause a line. The time for the glass to remain in the bath depends upon the age and amount of silver the bath contains; for a new solution, from _two_ to _three_ minutes will be sufficient to give the proper action. If it be old, three to five minutes will be better. When it is properly coated, it can be raised up and taken by the corner, and allowed to drain for a few seconds, and then should be placed in the tablet, and is ready for the camera. The time of exposure will depend upon the amount of light present. If the bath is newly mixed, and the collodion recently iodized, it should produce a sufficiently strong impression by an exposure of about one-third of the time required for a daguerreotype. If the collodion has been iodized some time, and the bath is old, about one-half of the time necessary to produce a daguerreian image will be required. The plate should in no case be allowed to become dry from the time it is taken from the bath up to the time of pouring on the developer. At a temperature of about 70°, I have had the glass out of the bath ten minutes without drying. After exposure, the glass should be taken again into the dark room, and removed from the tablet and held over a sink, pail, or basin and the developing solution poured on it as follows: hold the glass between the thumb and finger of the left hand, by the opposite end corner from that in coating with collodion, _i. e._, 2, and let 3 and 4 be from you. [Sidenote: MANIPULATIONS OF THE POSITIVE PROCESS.] Commence pouring on the developing solution at the end by the thumb, and let it flow quickly and evenly over the entire surface, the first flooding washing off any excess of nitrate of silver there may be about the edges or corners of the glass (if this silver is not washed off, it flows over the edges and on the surface of the impression, producing white wavy clouds of scum), and then hold the glass as nearly level as possible, it having upon its surface a thin covering of solution (care should be observed not to pour the developing solution on the plate in _one place_, as it would remove all the nitrate of silver and prevent the development of the image, leaving only a dark or black spot where it is poured on). Put down the bottle containing the developing solution, and take up a quart pitcher previously filled with water, and as soon as the outline of the image can be plainly seen by the weak or subdued light of an oil or fluid lamp or candle, pour the water over copiously and rapidly. Continue this until all the iron solution has been removed. If this is not done, the plate will be covered with blue scum on the application of the washing solution. Then the glass can be taken into a light room, and the iodide of silver coating washed off with the cyanide solution, and then rinsed with clear pure water, and stood in a position to drain and dry. I place a little blotting paper under them: it aids in absorbing the water, and facilitates the operation. Place the face of the glass against the wall, in order to prevent dust from falling upon it. I have often dried the coating by holding or standing the glass adjacent to a stove. A steady heat is advisable, as it leaves the surface in a more perfect state, and free from any scum. After the coating is perfectly dry, it is ready for the preserving process. It should be warmed evenly, and when about milk warm, "Humphrey's Collodion Gilding" is poured on the image in precisely the same manner as the collodion. In a few seconds the coating sets, and after three-quarters of a minute, if it has not become dry, the blaze of a spirit lamp may be applied to the back and it will immediately become _perfectly transparent_, and nearly as hard as the glass itself: the effect is fully equal, if not superior, to that of chloride of gold in gilding the daguerreotype image. The surface becomes brilliant and permanent. The back of the glass can now be wiped and cleaned with paper or cloth, and gently warmed, and then with a common small brush one coat of black varnish can be applied. This brush should be drawn from side to side across the glass, and on the side opposite to that which has received the image. This is in order not to make streaks in the coating of varnish, but to have uniform lines across the entire length or breadth of the glass. If the varnish is of the proper consistency, it will flow into a smooth, even coating. After this first coating is dry, apply a second in the same manner, only in an opposite direction, so as to cross the lines of the first, uniting at right angles; when this last coating is very nearly dry, a piece of paper, glazed black on one side, and cut to the proper size, can be put next the varnish; it gives it a clean finish, at the same time that it aids towards a dense blackening. I sometimes apply the black varnish by flowing, in the same manner as in putting on the collodion. This picture is to be colored and put up in the same manner as the daguerreotype image, with a mat and glass. The last glass may be dispensed with by first using the collodion gilding, and then upon its surface apply the black varnish, as before. In this case the image is seen through the same glass it is on, and without being reversed: in this case the mat goes on the outside of the glass. When the image is seen through the glass upon which it is taken, it cannot be colored with very great success, as it cannot be seen through the reduced silver forming it. This forms a more or less opaque surface; but in point of economy the single glass is preferable. Yet I would not recommend such economy, for I consider that a good impression ought to be well put up, and the welfare of the art fully substantiates that consideration. Many ways have been devised for putting up pictures I have produced pleasing effects upon colored glasses: for instance, a picture on a light purple glass has a very pleasing effect; also in some other colors. I have also used patent leather for backing the image. I have produced curious and interesting results by placing a piece of white paper, or coloring white the back of the _whites_ of the image, and then blackening over or around this. By this means the whites are preserved very clear. _Positives for Pins, Lockets, etc._--I employ mica for floating the collodion on, as it can be as easily cut and fitted as the metallic plate in the daguerreotype; and positives taken upon fine, clear, transparent mica, are fully equal to those taken upon glass, and yet they are ambrotypes. Mica is an article familiar to every one, as being used in stoves, gratings, etc. The method of using it, is to take the impression on a thick piece, and then split it off, which can readily be done in the most perfect, thin, transparent plates; it is equally as thin as tissue paper, and can be cut as easily. The thickness of the piece upon which the impression is taken is of no moment, since it can be reduced at pleasure and is more easily handled while thick. Observations on the Positive Collodion Process. Fogging.--There are numerous causes which will produce fogging: the principal ones will be mentioned. One is the admission of light upon the collodion. This maybe from a want of closeness of the dark room, the tablet,[E] the camera, or by accidental exposure. The method to locate the particular cause is to, _first_, when the glass is taken from the nitrate bath, let it stand for sufficient time to drain, then pour on the developer, and if the coating assumes a mistiness, or light-grey color, the fault is in the dark room; again, if the plate, after it has been treated with the developer and fixed, is clear, then also the fault is there. Now try the tablet in the same manner, and if not there, try the camera, and the proper location will be found. [Footnote E: Since the foregoing pages have been in type an entirely new feature in the line of apparatus has been introduced; this is W. & W. H. Lewis's Patent Plate-holder with solid glass corners. These Holders have every requisite for excluding the light from the sensitive surface; they are accompanied with a "shut off," so that when the slide is drawn no light can reach the glass. This, in connection with the unequalled advantage of the solid corners, makes them the most desirable article for the Operator. _Humphrey's Journal_, in referring to these Holders, says:-- "We are always glad to note every step which our mechanics make towards improvement on the apparatus used by our practical photographic operators, and make the present announcement of one which has only to be known to be readily understood, and to be seen to be appreciated. A patent has recently been granted for making solid glass corners, which are to be attached to plate-holders, and form the most perfect article that has ever been introduced. Heretofore the operator has had the corners of his plate-holders made with separate pieces of glass, cut so as to fit the corners of his frames; these are only glued or grooved in, and are constantly coming apart, falling out, and annoying in many ways; for our part, we never have considered them as fit for use in any manner. We look upon the present improvement as destined to entirely supersede all the methods heretofore introduced. In this case the collodionized or albumenized plate can come in contact with no other substance than a single piece of glass, and consequently there is far less liability of accident from either the staining of the plate or breaking of the holder. The rapid favor this improvement has gained already shows its great advantage over all other methods heretofore employed." ] "Decomposition by exposure to light or by long keeping, even in the dark. The author conceives that it is possible for organic matter alone to produce, after a time, a partial decomposition of solution of nitrate of silver, sufficient to prevent it from being employed chemically neutral, but probably not much interfering with its properties in other respects. "Use of rain water or of water containing carbonate of silver being perfectly neutral and from nitric acid. This difficulty is not a theoretical one only, but has actually been experienced. Rain water usually contains ammonia, and has a faint alkaline reaction. Pump water often abounds with carbonate of lime, much of which, but not the whole, is deposited on boiling. To remove the alkaline condition, add acetic acid, one drop to half a pint of the solution. "Partial decomposition of the bath, by contact with metallic iron, with hyposulphite of soda, or with any developing agent, even in small quantity. Also by the use of accelerators, which injure the bath by degrees, and eventually prevent its employment in an accurately neutral state. "Vapor of ammonia, or hydrosulphate of ammonia, escaping into the developing room." Spots.--One principal cause of spots is _dust_. The operating room should be kept as free from this as possible, and instead of its being dusted, it should be wiped with a damp cloth. Specks or flakes of iodide of silver are often found in the nitrate bath. These sometimes occur by an ever-iodized collodion, and sometimes by collodion falling off while being silvered. When this occurs, the nitrate of silver solution should be filtered. A new sponge or a tuft of cotton is a good article to filter nitrate of silver solution through. A small particle of light finding its way upon the plate, will produce a spot. Another and very frequent cause is, putting the slide of the tablet down rapidly, causing it to spatter upon the plate the solution which has drained off from it. This paper will be opaque when viewed by reflected light, and dark when viewed by transmitted light. Occasionally a sort of transparent spot will appear: this may be traced to a want of sensibility of the iodide of silver. Large transparent spots frequently appear by the operator's pouring the developing solution upon one place, and washing off the small quantity of nitrate of silver necessary to develope the image. This will be easily detected, and can be obviated by _flooding_ the most of the surface of the glass with a steady stream of the developer. Stains and Lines.--If the glass be allowed to rest for an instant with one portion of its surface in the silvering solution and the other out of it, it would cause a streak across; hence the necessity of totally immersing it with one firm, steady motion removing the glass before it has been thoroughly wetted, and the ether and alcohol allowed a uniform action over the entire surface. A plate should not be disturbed in the bath until it has been in a full minute at least. _Irregular Lines_ are often caused by using the developing solution too strong, or by not pouring it evenly over the plate at once. Should it be allowed to rest in its progress, if but for an instant, it will leave its line. Sometimes spangles of metallic silver appear: these are caused by the presence of too much nitric acid in the developer for the proportion of iodide in the film and the strength of the bath. There are other phases connected with the practice of the positive process, which it would be almost impossible to commit to paper, and cannot be so explained as to be perfectly comprehended by the new experimenter. It is absolutely necessary for all to observe every little point noticed in the foregoing pages, and at the same time exercise some good judgment, and no one need hesitate through fear of not being successful. PRACTICAL DETAILS OF THE =NEGATIVE PROCESS.= CHAPTER V. NEGATIVE PROCESS--SOLUBLE COTTON--PLAIN COLLODION--DEVELOPING SOLUTION--RE-DEVELOPING SOLUTION--FIXING THE IMAGE--FINISHING THE IMAGE--NITRATE OF SILVER BATH. Negative Process. The manipulations and chemicals employed in the production of the negative collodion pictures are very similar to those already given for operating by the positive process; frequent reference will therefore necessarily be made to portions of that process, as described in the preceding pages, and only such parts will be given here, as do not correspond with the foregoing. It is thought advisable to omit in this chapter every reference that does not have a desired tendency to aid the operator in the plain straightforward order of manipulation. The negative process is fast becoming popular and needs the attention of all who desire to keep pace with the experiments in the art. Since the first edition of this work it has been my pleasure to see many fine photographic specimens produced by the following process, and no one need fail, if he will carefully adhere to the details given. There perhaps may be circumstances making it advisable for some to have but one nitrate of silver solution for both positive and negative collodion pictures: for such, a process will be given in the following pages, which has recently appeared in _Humphrey's Journal_, and is called, after its author, the "Helio Process," this is well adapted for most purposes. Soluble Cotton. The method for preparing this has been given in page 41. It is prepared in the same manner for both positives and negatives. Plain Collodion. The preparation of plain collodion employed is the same as that described at page 53. Developing Solution for Negatives. Rain or distilled water 6 ounces. Protosulphate of iron 300 grains. Acetic acid 2 ounces. A little alcohol may be added to make it flow more evenly over the plate--say 1 oz. This solution can be kept in a pint bottle, and should have a funnel devoted solely to the purpose of filtering it. One of the most convenient dishes for receiving this solution, when poured over the plate, is a bowl with a lip to it, as it can be readily poured back into the funnel. The mode of employing this developer is the same as that for positives, described at page 133. It may be used an indefinite number of times, but should be kept clean; it soon assumes a red color. Re-developing Solution. This solution is for the purpose of giving increased intensity to the negative, but as its use in the hands of beginners is attended with some difficulty, I would not recommend the operator to try it until he has had considerable experience in the developing process, or he will undoubtedly spoil his proofs. Its use requires promptness of action and quick observation. The following is the formula for its preparation: Water 4 ounces. Protosulphite of iron 400 grains. Put this into a bottle, and when the crystals are dissolved, it is ready for use. It should be kept filtered, and can be used only once. Now in another bottle put Water 4 ounces. Nitrate of silver 48 grains. Remarks.--The impression is to be well washed after the developing solution has been poured off, and then the _re-developing solution_ (that portion containing the protosulphate of iron) can be poured on--the plate being held perfectly level: the surface is completely covered; the water containing the nitrate of silver should then be poured _rapidly_ on, to mix with the iron, when the surface of the impression will instantly commence to blacken; and if the action be allowed to continue for a lengthened period, say one minute, the impression will be ruined. It is a matter worthy of notice, that there is no perceptible action when the iron solution is poured over the glass; but the action is very energetic the instant the nitrate of silver solution comes in contact with the iron salt and the silver. As soon as any change can be observed, after the re-developer has been poured over the plate, it should be _quickly_ and copiously washed off with clean water, and then it is ready for the fixing process. I would dissuade novices in the art from practising with the _re-developing solution_, until they have first thoroughly mastered the entire process of taking negatives. The developing solution is the only one used by operators generally, and will, with proper care, produce satisfactory results. Fixing the Image. Water 8 ounces. Hyposulphite of soda 4 ounces. Remarks.--This is nearly a saturated solution. The glass can be put in a dish and the solution poured over, or held in the hand, in the same way as the plate in the daguerreotype process. It can readily be seen when a sufficient action has been attained, as the unaltered bromo-iodide of silver will be dissolved, leaving only the reduced surface holding the image. This action should not be continued too long, as it affects the intensity of the picture, injuring it for printing. The glass should be well washed by pouring over it clean water, and then it can be stood away to dry, in a _nearly_ perpendicular position, on clean blotting paper, or otherwise, as is most convenient; when thoroughly dry, it is ready for the finishing. Finishing the Image. This is done with the same material, and in the same manner, as that given for positives--page 134. Remarks.--The glass negatives, when not wanted for use, should be carefully put aside in a box, and kept free from dust and dampness: by so doing, it is believed that they will remain good for any length of time. Nitrate of Silver Bath. This solution differs only from the positive bath, by omitting the _nitric acid_: in all other respects it is precisely the same, and is prepared by the same formula, as given at page 64. This is called the _neutral bath_, and is best adapted to the negative process. The nitrate of silver employed in its preparation should be perfectly free from excess of nitric acid, otherwise the whole solution will be slightly acid. If it should not be convenient to obtain nitrate of silver without this objection, the acid may be neutralized by putting into the solution a small quantity of common washing soda-- say 1 grain to each 100 grains of nitrate of silver--previously dissolved in about half an ounce of water. This may be put in at the same time that the iodide of potassium is, and it would save one filtration. In twenty samples of nitrate of silver that I have tried the above quantity of soda has been found sufficient; if, however, the _white_ precipitate first formed is re-dissolved on shaking the mixture, free nitric acid is present, and more of the soda may be added. This bath will improve by age, and be less liable to fog after having been in constant use for one or two weeks. Operators who have the means, and design following the art professionally, will find it to their advantage to make from two to three times the quantity of solution they require for immediate use: by this means they will be enabled to replenish their stock, which may be used up or otherwise lost. PRACTICAL DETAILS OF THE =PRINTING PROCESS.= CHAPTER VI. PRINTING PROCESS--SALTING PAPER--SILVERING PAPER--PRINTING THE POSITIVE--FIXING AND COLORING BATH--MOUNTING THE POSITIVE. The Printing Process. [Sidenote: MANIPULATIONS OF THE PRINTING PROCESS.] There is probably no department of the photographic art where can be found an equal amount of variety, as regards chemicals, manipulations, etc. The course adopted in the commencement, of giving only one process for the operator to work by--and that a good one--will be strictly adhered to in this place. I have produced as good positives on paper by the following plan, as I have ever seen. Should the reader wish more extensive acquaintance with the printing processes, he is referred to Humphrey's Journal. Salting Paper. Water 1 quart. Muriate of ammonia 65 grains. The water is put into a flat, gutta-percha, glass, or earthen dish, and the muriate of ammonia is put into it, and stirred until it is dissolved and is well mixed with the water; then proceed as follows: we will suppose we have a gutta-percha dish sufficiently large to take in a sheet of paper 8 by 10 inches, and about 1-1/2 or 2 inches deep: take hold of two corners of the paper with the thumb and finger of each hand, and then draw the paper through the solution, by passing it from one end of the dish to the other, so that it will be wetted on both sides; then turning it over in the same manner, draw it back, so that its surface will be thoroughly moistened, but it is not necessary to _saturate_ the paper. Now the paper is ready for drying, which may be done by hanging it on the edge of a shelf by means of little tack nails put through it at the same corners by which it was held in passing through the salting solution. In order to prevent streaks, from forming upon the paper, it is better to hang it in such a manner that it cannot touch the shelf, except at the corners: say the sheet is eight inches wide, and the tacks (which are put through the corners) to be only five or six inches apart, this will give the proper bend outwards, preventing its contact with the shelf. This entire operation can be performed in daylight, or otherwise as suits the convenience of the operator. This paper, when dry, should be laid between the folds of blotting paper (filtering paper will answer), and may be kept for any length of time, and is ready for the silvering process. Silvering Paper. In silvering paper, I employ the ammonio-nitrate, which is prepared as follows:-- Water 2-1/4 ounces. Nitrate of silver 75 grains. Dissolve (in a 4-ounce vial) the nitrate of silver in the water, and then pour one-fourth of the solution into an ounce graduate or any convenient vessel: this keep for farther use in preventing the presence of an excess of ammonia. Now, into the bottle containing the three-fourths put about 4 drops of aqua-ammonia; shake well and a brown precipitate will be given. Continue adding the ammonia, _drop by drop_, and shake after each addition, until the brown precipitate is re-dissolved and the solution is clear; then pour back into the bottle the one-fourth taken out at first: this will leave the solution slightly turbid, and when so, there is no excess of ammonia which would be objectionable. It may now be filtered through filtering paper, and it (the clear liquid) is ready for use. This should be kept in the dark, as it decomposes rapidly when exposed to light. The method of silvering the paper with ammonio-nitrate of silver, is as follows: take a tuft of clean cotton, roll it into a ball-shape, then wet it by holding it against the mouth of the bottle containing the ammonio-nitrate, and when well wet, apply it to the paper (which should be placed flat on a clean board) by gently rubbing it over the surface, care being taken not to roughen it. If the solution has not been filtered for some time, it would be advisable to pour a little on the centre of the paper, and then distribute it over the surface by means of the cotton, which is held in the fingers: by this last method any sediment which may be in the bottom of the bottle is prevented from getting upon the paper, and causing spots. I have used a brush for the purpose of distributing the solution, by which plan there is less liability of getting it on the fingers and staining them. Care must be taken to cover the _entire surface_ of the paper, or there will be light streaks, occasioned by the absence of the silvering solution. This want of silver will appear on the paper in light parts, as seen in the accompanying cut: [Illustration: Fig. 36.] After the paper has been perfectly coated, or washed with the silvering solution, it should be placed in a perpendicular position to dry. I usually tack the paper on a board of the requisite size, and then stand it on one edge until it has drained and dried. As soon as dry, it is ready for use. This paper will not keep more than twelve hours, therefore the operator should silver in the morning the quantity required for the day. It is imperatively necessary that the silvered paper be kept in the dark. It is extremely sensitive to light, and a very brief exposure of the prepared sheet would render it unfit for use. Printing the Positive. The several kinds of apparatus used for holding the negative and the sensitive paper together, have already been given on page 36, Figs. 31, 32, 33. The paper having been salted and silvered, as just described, should be placed on the pad of the printing frame or glasses, with its sensitive surface up, and then the negative placed directly upon and in contact with it; then it is to be fastened together, when it will be ready for exposure to the direct rays of the sun. From 10 to 40 seconds will be found enough to give a sufficiently intense print. The paper first changes to a slate color, and then to a brown or copper color t when of a dark slate color is about the proper time to take it out and immerse in the toning bath. Fixing and Coloring Bath. I have employed the proportions given by Mr. Hardwich in his _Photographic Chemistry_, page 209--Humphrey's American edition. Solution of chloride of gold, a quantity equivalent to 4 grains. Nitrate of silver 30 " Hyposulphite of soda 2 ounces. Water 8 " "Dissolve the hyposulphite of soda in four ounces of the water, the chloride of gold in three ounces, the nitrate of silver in the remaining ounce; then pour the diluted chloride by degrees into the hyposulphite, stirring meanwhile with a glass rod; and afterwards the nitrate of silver in the same way. This order of mixing the solution is to be strictly observed; if it were reversed, the hyposulphite of soda being added to the chloride of gold, the result would be the reduction of metallic gold. The difference depends upon the fact that the hyposulphite of gold which is formed is an exceedingly unstable substance, and cannot exist in contact with unaltered chloride of gold. It is necessary that it should be dissolved by hyposulphite of soda _immediately_ on its formation, and so rendered more permanent by conversion into a double salt of soda and gold. "The _time of coloration_ depends much upon the quantity of gold present, and may in some cases be extended to many hours. The results of a few experiments, performed roughly, appeared to indicate that the activity of this bath is less affected by depression of temperature than those prepared with tetrathionate. Certainly the injurious effects of prolonged immersion are not so evident as with the first two formulæ: the purity of the whites remains unaltered for many hours if the bath is new, but with an old bath there is a tendency to yellowness, which is probably caused by the presence of sulphuretted hydrogen. Fresh chloride of gold must be added from time to time, as it appears to be required." After the impression has remained in the toning bath a sufficient length of time, it should be placed in a dish or sink of clean water, which should be changed several times--floating for at least 12 hours; then it may be taken out and hung up to dry. "Touching."--The _coloring_ of a photograph forms no part of my process: this is a matter to be given into the hands of an artist, and when it bears the finishing touch of his skill, it is no longer a _photograph_, but _an oil_ or _watercolor painting_; all the delicate workings of nature having been lost or hidden under the colors. A photograph may often be "touched" to advantage. If, as is frequently the case, there be little white spots on the face of the paper, they may be readily covered by the application of a little India ink, with the point of a wet pencil or fine small brush. Mounting of Positives. This, though a small matter in itself, is worthy of great attention. The durability of the proof depends much upon the purity of the paste used in causing its adhesion to the Bristol board. I have employed the following composition with the most eminent success:-- Gum arabic 2 ounces Gum tragacanth 1-1/2 " Isinglass 1-1/2 " Sugar 1/2 " Water 3 pints These ingredients should all be dissolved, and then boiled down to the proper consistency, by means of a gentle heat. I will give another composition, which will serve a good purpose, and keep for a long time:-- Water 8 ounces. One table spoonful of wheat flour Powdered alum 40 grains. Powdered resin " Brown sugar 1 ounce. Bichloride of mercury 20 grains. This last composition may be more convenient for operators, and it will answer the purpose well. It is thought by some to be the _best_ and _most durable_ paste yet prepared for the purpose. =FACTS WORTH MENTIONING.= [Sidenote: FACTS WORTH KNOWING.] _The Poisonous Effects_ of cyanide of potassium upon sores, may be obviated by immediately applying some of the positive developing solution, described at page 62. By this means much annoyance may be avoided to persons afflicted with chapped or sore hands. _Bending Glass Rods_ or tubes can be easily done by subjecting them to the blaze of a spirit lamp--the same as that used for gilding the daguerreotype. First hold the rod just above the blaze, then gradually allow it to descend into it, imparting to the rod a rotatory motion with the finger and thumb: this will soon cause a softening of the glass, when it may be bent to any desired shape. If the ends are to be bent to form hooks, another small piece of glass, or any warm metal, may be placed upon the end, in the blaze of the lamp, and as soon as thoroughly softened, it can be pressed or bent to form the hook. By filing around a glass tube or rod, it may be easily and safely broken at the desired point, by giving it a sudden jerk between both hands, holding it close to the encircled part. _Cementing Glass_ may be readily accomplished by placing the two ends together in the blaze of the lamp, and holding them there until they attain a sufficient degree of heat to slightly fuse: when cool, the ends will be found perfectly united. _The Background_ best adapted to positives is unbleached muslin, such, as is sold for sheeting, and can be found in almost any dry goods' store: it should be from two to three yards wide. A clouded appearance is given to the background by merely marking it with _charcoal_, forming streaks or "_waves_" resembling clouds. These come out black, or dark, in the positive, and give a variegated appearance. The roughness of the marking does not matter, since the background is generally a little out of the focus of the lenses. Trees and other designs may be represented in this matter. _Positive Collodion Pictures_ may be whitened by the use of bichloride of mercury, thirty grains to one ounce of water. After the picture has been developed, fixed and washed, by the process given in the preceding pages, the solution of bichloride of mercury may be poured over the surface of the image: it almost immediately presents a series of interesting changes in color. The surface at first blackens but for a few minutes, when it begins to get lighter, and gradually brightens to a pure white, inclining to a blue. It should then be thoroughly washed and dried, as usual. _Instantaneous Pictures_ may be taken by employing the _iodide of iron_ in the collodion. The best method with which I am acquainted, is to have a saturated solution of iodide of iron in alcohol, and drop one or two drops into an ounce of the collodion (which has been previously iodized) used in taking positives. This can be used at once, as soon as mixed. No more of this collodion should be prepared than is wanted for immediate use, as it will keep good for only a few hours. The saturated solution of iodide of iron can be kept on hand ready for use at all times. There should be an excess of the iodide in the alcohol. The same accelerating effect is produced with the negative collodion prepared in this way. _Plain Collodion_ may be iodized as soon as dissolved: this will save time in settling. It is a fact that some cotton is more readily dissolved when the bromo-iodizing is present: but by the addition of this, I have often taken up considerable quantities of the gummy sediment remaining in the bottom of bottles. _Prepared Glass_ may be preserved clean and free from dust by keeping in boxes such as those used for keeping daguerreotype plates. By taking out every other partition between the grooves, the glass can be readily put in. _Collodion Vials and Bottles_, after having collodion in them once, should be rinsed with alcohol and ether (in the same proportions as employed for dissolving the cotton), before using them a second time for that purpose. Penuriousness in this respect would be bad policy. _Coating Large Glasses._--A convenient method of doing this is represented in the following illustration: [Illustration] The glass is held by one corner, 2; the other corner, 4, is rested on a table or bench, and the collodion poured on, so that the excess may be poured off at 1. _Black Stains_ upon the hands, caused by nitrate of silver, may be removed by moistening them and rubbing with a lump of cyanuret of potassium. This salt is poisonous, if used to a great extent [_See page 139_]. Another safer, but more expensive plan, however, is to take a saturated solution of iodide of potassium in water, and then wash with nitric acid diluted with two parts water. _Stains upon White Linen_ can be removed by washing with a saturated solution of iodide of potassium containing a little iodine; then wash with water, and soak in a saturated solution of hyposulphite of soda until the yellow iodide of silver is dissolved. _The hands_ should always be washed after fixing a positive or negative picture, before again touching a glass to be coated, or the dipper; this precaution is necessary, lest any of the iron salt, or the hyposulphite, should get into the silvering solution and spoil it. _In taking Collodion Pictures_, it is always advisable for the sitter to be arranged before the glass is taken from the bath: this will save time and there will be less liability of the collodion drying. _A Good Negative_ may be known by its possessing the following characteristics:--By transmitted light the figure is bright, and appears to stand out from the glass; the dark shadows are clear, without any misty deposit of metallic silver; the high lights black almost to complete opacity. _A Glass Coated with Collodion_, if kept too long before immersion in the bath, will not be equally sensitive over its surface; the parts most dry being the least sensitive. _Glass Pans, for Scales_, can be procured by every one at trifling expense: Take a watch crystal, and place in the common metal pan; balance this with lead, or any weight: this can easily be kept clean, and is the most advisable for weighing all deliquescent salts, and chemicals employed in the collodion process. _Caution._--Persons engaged in making collodion, and using ether and alcohol, must bear in mind that these chemicals are _very inflammable_; hence extreme caution is necessary to avoid exposing them to the flame of a lamp or candle. I have known of several serious accidents, of recent date, all of which were caused by the imprudence of the experimenter in the particular above mentioned. _Wipe the Plate-holder_ every time before the glass is put into it: this will prevent spots, which might otherwise occur from the presence of nitrate of silver solution which drained from the plate previously used. These spots are of an opaque yellowish tinge, and in shape resemble the stain which would be occasioned by a _splash_ of water. _Glass jar Positives._--A good _white_ or light-green glass will answer for the collodion coating. Glass which contains air-spots can be used, if it be placed in such a manner as to let the light of the image come over them, as the spots cannot be seen through the opaque surface. Only the best white glass should be used for _covering_ the picture. Some operators use the convex glass, which is very clear, and answers the purpose. _The Nitrate of Silver Bath_ should be kept covered, except when in use. _If a Glass be Immersed too soon_, streaks and waves will be occasioned. These will be seen at the end of the plate which is least dry: the coating is also more liable to peel off. It should be borne in mind, however, that the peeling of collodion is not always attributable to this cause. _Diffused Light in the Developing Room._--In proportion as the sensitiveness of the plates increases, greater care must be exercised in thoroughly excluding all rays of white light. With opalescent films, neutral, this cause of fogging is more common than any other. _Tn the case_ of a portrait, if the features have an unnaturally black and gloomy appearance, the dark portions of the drapery, &c., being invisible, the picture has been _underexposed_ in the camera. CHAPTER VII. =HELIO PROCESS.=[F] [Footnote F: It has been thought advisable to publish in this work the _Helio Process_, and I do so just as it appeared in _Humphrey's Journal_.--S. D. H.] An Entire Process for Producing Collodion Positives and Negatives with one Bath, and in much less time than by any other known Process.--By Helio.--Photographic Patents. Boston, Oct., 1856. S. D. Humphrey. _Sir_,--As _Humphrey's Journal_ is the only truly progressive and independent Photographic publication in America, I feel it the duty of every one to aid its Editor in furthering the interest of the amateur and practitioner of the art; and, suiting the action to the word, I present the following Process as being worthy of confidence, and having, in my hands, proved eminently satisfactory. I am surprised to see that Operators and men respectably connected with the practice of the Art should so far fall beneath the station of true artists as to advertise to catch each other, or the verdant ones, by offering this or that little improvement all "printed complete for five dollars." As an amateur, and having the good of the science I love at heart, I now contribute my mite for the benefit of all interested; and, following the glorious example of G. B. C. (who I hope we shall soon hear from again,) in your last, I say--God speed! I shall endeavor to be as minute and concise as possible, so as to enable any one to adopt and successfully use my processes. _Preparation of Soluble Cotton._--I put into a Wedgewood mortar, twelve ounces, by weight, of dry and finely pulverized nitrate of potash (I use Dupont's refined), and add to it twelve ounces, by measure, of good commercial sulphuric acid; I mix these well together by the use of a glass rod and pestle, so that it forms a paste; I then add, in small quantities at a time, about 325 grains of good coarse cotton (this is according to your process), and _knead_ the mass well for from three to five minutes; and then cover the mortar with a piece of glass, and let it stand for twenty or thirty minutes, by which time it will have been sufficiently acted upon. Then the cotton is to be plunged into a quantity of clean water and thoroughly washed in a number of changes of water, so that when it is squeezed between the folds of blue litmus-paper it will not redden it; this indicates that the acid has been washed out; I then place the cotton in a clean strong towel and wring out all the water I can, then put it into alcohol, then wring it again, and adopt your plan of not letting it become thoroughly dry. The cotton being now ready for use, I dissolve it in the following mixture, in a bottle of proper size:-- Sulphuric ether 10 ounces. Alcohol, 95 per cent. 5 ounces. Soluble cotton, enough to make it about as thick as cream. The above should be well shaken, and then allowed to stand for one or two days to settle. This constitutes my Plain Collodion, and should be poured off into another bottle, leaving the sediment behind. _Iodizing._--For this purpose I employ the following preparation:-- _A._--_Iodide of Silver._--Dissolve fifty grains of nitrate of silver, crystals, in two ounces of pure water, and forty grains of iodide of ammonium in two ounces of pure water; then pour the two together, shaking the mixture well; let it settle, which it will do in a few minutes; then pour off the water carefully, leaving behind all the yellow iodide of silver; pour again a fresh quantity of water over the precipitate, and continue this washing for at least six changes of water; then drain off the water as close as possible and pour on two ounces of alcohol, which, when drained off, will leave the powder sufficiently clean for the purpose. _B._--I now dissolve forty grains of bromide of ammonium and one hundred grains of iodide of ammonium in two ounces of 95 per cent, alcohol, and then add the iodide of silver (preparation _A_), and shake the whole well together, giving a saturated solution. This is to be filtered through cotton or paper, when it will be ready for use. _C._--To sixteen ounces of Plain Collodion add from eight to twelve drops of tincture of iodine (50 grains of dry iodine dissolved in half an oz. of alcohol) and 14 grains or drops of fluoride of ammonium; shake the mixture well; then add all of the solution _B_; shake it again and thoroughly; after this has stood for twenty-four hours it can be used, but will be found better after it has been prepared one week. Nitrate of Silver Solution. Pure rain or distilled water 64 ounces. Nitrate of silver (in crystals) 4-1/4 ounces. Clean pure white sugar 75 grains. Six grains of iodide of ammonium dissolved in half a drachm of alcohol. The above, thoroughly mixed and allowed to stand for a few hours, should be filtered through a new clean sponge, asbestos, or Swedish filtering paper, and then a few drops of nitric acid, chemically pure, should be added, just enough to redden blue litmus-paper; then it is ready for use, and will improve by age. _Developing Solution._--This formula has proved very satisfactory in my hands, and I hope will be equally so with all who give it a trial:-- Water 1 pint. Boracic acid 3/4 ounce. Protosulphate of iron 3/4 ounce. Pulverized nitre 1/2 ounce Three drops of oil of cinnamon dissolved in two ounces of alcohol. Dissolve and filter, and it is ready for use. It is better to make this developer fresh every other day. _Dissolving off the Iodide of Silver._--Water, about half a pint; cyanide of potassium, enough to clear the impression in about thirty seconds--say a quarter of an ounce. _Fixing the Impression._--I use the article well known to every good photographer as Humphrey's Collodion Gilding, and it serves the purpose better than anything that I I know of. _Black Varnish._--I generally purchase this from the dealer; but I have made an article which answered the purpose well, by dissolving pulverized asphaltum in spirits of turpentine. Any of the black varnishes can be improved by the addition of a little bees'-wax to it. It is less liable to crack and gives an improved gloss. _Negative and Printing Processes._--Being myself an amateur, and desiring to study economy and convenience, my attention has been given to the test of numerous plans for avoiding the necessity of two baths and silvering solutions and I feel confident that the amateur will find the following, in connection with the foregoing Positive Process, the best adapted to his wants. The same bath and solution is used for the negative as for the positive process; and the time of exposure in the camera should be prolonged a few seconds. I have produced beautiful negatives, in-doors, in _four seconds_, and, out-doors, _instantaneously_. The manipulation, bath, and developing solution are precisely the same as those used in the positive process. _Fixing the Negative._--Place the following mixture in a well-stoppered bottle: Pure Water 6 ounces. Aqua-ammonia, concentrated 1 ounce. This solution should be poured on the negative and allowed to remain for about twenty seconds. It should be borne in mind, that the developing solution (same as for positives) should be well washed off the glass before the fixing solution is poured over; after it has remained on the glass for the time given (20 seconds), the negative can be washed with clean water and dried; it is then ready for printing. The iodide of silver is not, as in other processes, dissolved off, but remains on the glass. It sometimes happens that the negative is not sufficiently intense; this result can be obtained by pouring over the plate the following solution, which should remain for about three-fourths of a minute: Water 8 ounces. Nitrate of silver 28 grains. Alcohol 1 ounce. Loaf sugar 1/3 ounce After this solution is used, I pour over the impression the developing solution, and then wash well with water. This re-developing may be repeated two or three times, and almost any desired intensity obtained. _Printing Process--Salting the Paper._--Boil the following mixture in an earthen vessel until it becomes transparent:-- Distilled water 12 ounces. Muriate of ammonia 240 grains. Arrowroot 112 grains. After this has been sufficiently boiled, it should be strained through clean linen or cotton cloth (free from soap or other substances), and, when cool, it is ready for coating the paper, which is done by dipping a new clean sponge into it and rubbing it over one side of the paper, giving it a uniform coating; but as it is not desirable to have too much on the paper, it should be rubbed with a clean sponge until nearly dry; it can then be hung up by the corner until thoroughly dry, when it can be put into a portfolio and kept for exciting for use. _Silvering Solution._--This solution may be prepared in the light, but must be used in a dark room:-- Distilled water 1 pint. Nitrate of silver 3-3/4 ounces. Dissolve and pour into an earthen or gutta-percha dish. Take the paper (cut to the proper size) and _float_ it on this solution for about three minutes; care must be observed that there are no air-bubbles between the solution and the paper, for this would cause spots. It now can be hung up to dry, and as soon as dry it may be used. Let me here repeat, that this operation must be conducted in a dark room. _Fixing and Toning Bath._--I find that a better effect is produced if the positive be a little over-printed before being acted upon by the following mixture:-- Distilled water 8 ounces. Chloride of sodium 240 grains. This solution should be put into a flat dish and the print placed on it, face down, for from one and a-half to three minutes, when it should be taken off and put into the following solution, and allowed to remain there from three quarters of an hour to two hours:-- Distilled water 18 ounces. Hyposulphite of soda 3 ounces. Nitrate of silver 60 grains. The following method should be observed in preparing this last mixture, viz.:--dissolve the three ounces of hyposulphite of soda in _sixteen_ ounces of the water and the sixty grains of nitrate of silver in the remaining two ounces; then pour the nitrate of silver solution into that containing the hyposulphite of soda, stirring the mixture continually until all is well mixed. After the print has remained in the toning solution for the specified time, it should be taken out and well washed in several changes of clean water, and dried and mounted in any of the usual ways. With a few general remarks I will close this, perhaps, too long communication. It should be a point in the practice of every one who desires success in any process, to maintain a strict observance to cleanliness; this is one point in which most persons fail, and it cannot be too strongly impressed upon the minds of manipulators. It should be understood that the foregoing process is _complete in itself_, and is not to be confounded with any other method. The _collodion_ is adapted for the _nitrate of silver bath_, and the _bath_ for the _collodion_; and no one should use other preparations of collodion and silvering solution, except they do so with the full expectation that it will be at the _loss of either or both of the preparations employed_. Allow me, through the columns of your invaluable Journal, to say to those who may read the foregoing process, that if they find (as I have) my process to prove profitable to them, I shall consider myself amply repaid if they will, through the same medium, contribute to our stock of information by giving an account of their experiments. I feel quite confident that some of the amateurs, with whose reputation I am already acquainted, and of whose private works in photography America has cause to feel proud,--could furnish interesting, useful and valuable information upon this subject. Such men, for instance, as G. B. C, of Md. (who has already made a good beginning), G. W. D., of the same place, and Mr. G. G., of Pa. Friends and co-laborers, shall we hear from you? I pause for a reply! I look with interest upon every stroke of the pen from your able correspondent G. M., of Washington, whose specimens of photographic engraving you recently had the kindness to show me. I assure you, it did not a little astonish me to witness the surprising truthfulness with which the details were presented. Helio. =CORRESPONDENCE= BETWEEN THE U. S. COMMISSIONER OF PATENTS AND JAMES A. CUTTING, RELATIVE TO HIS APPLICATIONS FOR LETTERS PATENT. United States Patent Office, April 17, 1854. Sir: Your application for letters patent for an alleged improvement in making photographic pictures, having been submitted to the proper examiner, is rejected. As the use of alcohol to absorb water in hasty desiccation is understood to be commonly practical in most chemical laboratories, no reference is thought necessary for the rejection of the first claim. Secondly, the mixture of alcohol and ether in unlimited proportions to dissolve gun cotton for photographic purposes, is common. [_See_ Gaudin's Process, "Humphrey's Daguerreian Journal," vol. 4, p. 229.] Thirdly, collodion with bromide basis, is not new. [_See_ General Remarks on Collodion, by Gaudin, "Photographic Art Journal," 1st Series, vol. 6, p. 348.] The two articles above referred to are translated from the French, and contain also, it is believed, sufficient to show that the subject of the fourth claim has been anticipated, rendering further reference unnecessary. Respectfully yours, &c., S. F. Shugert, Acting Commissioner. J. A. Cutting (care of C. G. Page), Washington, D. C. * * * * * Jane 17, 1854. Sir: In regard to the use of bromide bases with collodion, I am prepared to show that I had it in successful use in the month of April, 1853; and if the circumstances require legal proof of the same, it will be furnished, though at some expense of time and money to me; and as the question is only between the public and myself, I trust the office will see fit to grant me a patent for the same. James A. Cutting. Hon. Chas. Mason, Commissioner of Patents. * * * * * United States Patent Office, April 19, 1854. Sir: In your letter of the 17th, you say that, if necessary, proof can be given that you had in successful use, in the month of April, 1853, collodion prepared with a bromide oasis. On referring to the "Journal of the Photographic Society," of London, No. 6 (June, 1853), page 70, you will see that Sir John Herschel used bromide for the same purpose previous to the year 1840. Ammonia, in various combinations, has long been in use for the preparation of sensitive collodions. [_See_ Report of the British Association, 1850, p. 150, "Journal of the Photographic Society" No. 9, 1853, p. 116.] F. M. Lyndes' process and compositions show that he has used iodine, bromide, and chloride of ammonium; and Count de Montegon, in the same journal, No. 2, April, 1853; page 24, for his fifth composition of collodion, used liquid ammonia. These are all regarded as equivalents for your compositions covered by the fourth claim; if, however, there is a difference, you are at liberty to show in what it consists; and the examination is accordingly postponed to await your action. Yours, &c., C. Mason, Commissioner. J. A. Cutting (care of C. G. Page), Washington, D. C. * * * * * Washington, June 21, 1854. Sir: In reply to your communications of the 19th instant, and April 17th, 1854, I propose to modify my claims as follows, to wit: After the first clause of the claim, nineteenth line, ending with the words "set forth," add as follows: "I do not claim the use of alcohol as a _desiccating agent_, but limit my claim to its special use and purpose, as herein stated." Erase the fourth clause of the claim, commencing on the twenty-sixth line, and ending with the words "set forth" on the thirtieth line. In reply to the objection raised by the office that "bromide was used in 1840," I have to say that I was fully aware of the employment of bromide in various ways for photographic purposes, and that I have also, in common with photographers, known the extreme difficulty of using bromide, and that notwithstanding the sensitiveness imparted by bromide to other compounds, it has been almost universally discarded by practical photographers. The discovery of collodion as a vehicle for sensitive materials is of recent date, and there seems to have been a backwardness on the part of photographers to attempt bromide bases with collodion, and so far, whatever trials have been made subsequent to my discovery, it is evident that they have been attended with the results of "misty pictures." To whatever my success may be due, I maintain that I have been the first to use a bromide base with collodion--and with that only do I claim it--and the results in my pictures show with what success. Respectfully, James A. Cutting, By Att'y, Chas. G. Page. Hon. Chas. Mason, Commissioner of Patents. * * * * * United States Patent Office, June 21, 1854. Sir: Your specification of an improvement in composition for producing photographic pictures is herewith returned for a slight amendment, which is, to omit the reference to specimens which do not accompany the patent, and to correct an error in the oath as noted on the margin. Yours, &c., C. Mason, Commissioner. James A. Cutting, 142 Hanover st.; Boston, Mass. * * * * * United States Patent Office, June 22, 1854. Sir: By reading a paper by Mr. W. Crookes in the "Journal of the Photographic Society, London," No. 7, p. 86, "on the employment of bromine in collodion," it is believed you will be satisfied that the date there given on which he used bromized collodion is prior to your claim to having used it; he refers to p. 72, No, 6, published in June, 1853, for experiments made with bromized collodion, which paper is dated June 2d, 1853. Mr. Isaac Rehn, of Philadelphia, has testified to having seen you make use of a bromide base, viz., bromide of potassium and collodion, about the 1st of July, 1853, or about one month after the date of Mr. Crookes' paper in England. The specification is accordingly returned, that you may cancel the fourth claim, and amend the papers to suit. Yours, &c., C. Mason, Commissioner. Mr. J. A. Cutting, (care of C. G. Page), Washington, D. C. * * * * * PATENT FOR THE USE OF CAMPHOR IN COMBINATION WITH IODIZED COLLODION. The schedule referred to in the Letters Patent, and making part of the same. _To whom it may concern:_ Be it known, that I, James A. Cutting, of the City of Boston, County of Suffolk, and State of Massachusetts, have invented a new and useful improvement in positive photographic pictures on glass, and I do hereby declare the following to be an exact description thereof: The nature of my invention consists in the use of gum camphor, in addition to the existing materials in the preparation of collodion for positive photographic pictures on glass. To enable others skilled in the art to make and use my invention, I will proceed to describe the process as follows: Having prepared the collodion in the usual manner, I take a pint bottle, in which I introduce twelve ounces of collodion, to which I add one drachm of iodide of potassium, dissolved in alcohol. I then shake the mixture thoroughly, and add thereto eighteen grains of refined gum camphor, shaking the mixture again, until the whole is combined, then allow it to settle, when it is lit for use. The advantages of my improvement consist in the increased vigor of the delineations of the half-tones of positive pictures on glass, giving greater depth and rotundity thereto, which render this combination exceedingly useful for microscopic pictures, as well as the ordinary purposes of portraiture. T would have it understood that the combination of camphor with iodide of potassium and collodion, as above specified, is adapted solely to the production of positive pictures on glass and not to the production of negative pictures on glass, from which positive pictures on paper may be printed, as a sufficient degree of opacity is not thus afforded for that purpose. What I claim as my invention, and desire to secure by Letters Patent, is the use of camphor, in combination with iodized collodion, as set forth in the specification. James A. Cutting. Samuel Grubb, } _Witnesses._ I. Rehn. } _Dated, July 4th, 1854._ * * * * * PATENT FOR THE USE OF BALSAM FOR SEALING PHOTOGRAPHIC PICTURES ON GLASS. The schedule referred to in Letters Patent and making part of the same. _To whom it may concern:_ Be it known that I, James A. Cutting, of Boston, in the County of Suffolk and State of Massachusetts, have invented new and useful improvements in photographic pictures on glass, and I do hereby declare the following to be an exact description thereof: The nature of my improvement consists in the application of a coating of balsam of fir to the side of the glass on which the picture is made, over which coating I place another glass of equal size with the one on which the picture is. To enable others skilled in the art to make and use my invention, I will proceed to describe the process as follows: After thoroughly cleaning a glass plate of the same size as that on which the picture to be secured is made, and moving all dust from the picture, I hold the glass containing the picture in a horizontal position with the pictured side uppermost, then apply the balsam in a line along one edge of the glass and placing one edge of the second glass in close contact with the first, containing the balsam, press them gradually together towards the opposite edge, causing the balsam to flow by a gentle pressure towards the opposite edge, in this manner excluding all air from between the glasses; then by an even pressure exclude the superabundant balsam. The advantages of my improvements are, that by a mechanical combination of the balsam with the picture it is greatly increased in strength and beauty, by an additional brilliancy and the exhibition of the most minute delineations; and by the application of the second glass in combination with the balsam, the picture is hermetically sealed and rendered entirely permanent, by being secured from the influence of both air and moisture, and also from injury by dust or other extraneous matter, or acid vapors, or any violence less than what could occasion the fracture of the plate glass. I am aware of the previous use of balsam for the cementing of lenses and the securing of microscopic objects, and other like purposes, and do not therefore extend my claim to any of these uses; but What I claim as my invention, and desire to secure by Letters Patent, is the combination of balsam with photographic pictures on glass, and with additional glass by which they; with the balsam, are hermetically sealed, as described in the specifications; and for the purposes therein set forth, and for no other. James A. Cutting. Issac Rehn, } _Witnesses._ Samuel Grubb. } _Dated July 11th, 1854._ * * * * * PATENT FOR DISPLACING WATER FROM SOLUBLE COTTON BY THE USE OF ALCOHOL; ALSO, FOR THE USE OF BROMIDE OF POTASSIUM IN COMBINATION WITH COLLODION. The schedule referred to in these Letters Patent, and making part of the same. _To all to whom these presents shall come:_ Be it known that I, James A. Cutting, of Boston, in the County of Suffolk and State of Massachusetts, have invented certain improvements in making photographic pictures, and that the following is a full, clear and exact description of the principle or character which distinguishes them from all other things before known, and of the usual manner of making, modifying, and using the same. My improvements relate to that class of photographic pictures in which the pictures are obtained upon a prepared film of glass or other substance. The film which I employ is collodion, and in order to insure success, the collodion must be prepared after my own process, as follows: Take 3 ounces (Troy) of pure dry nitrate potassa, and pulverize in a clean glass mortar; add to this 2-1/2 ounces, fluid measure, of pure sulphuric acid, and stir the mixture with a glass rod; immerse in this liquid, 80 grains of clean, dry cotton, and knead the mass of cotton in the liquid for about Ave minutes; remove the cotton and quickly wash it, till every trace of acid is gone, and it must then be dried quickly--for I have discovered that the more rapidly the cotton is dried, the more sensitive the collodion; and I have found the best effects produced by displacing the water from the cotton by strong alcohol. To prepare the collodion, take 10 ounces concentrated sulphuric ether, 60° Baumé, and mix this with 6 ounces of 95 per cent. alcohol. To this mixture add the prepared cotton, in quantity sufficient to make a collodion as thick as it can, and yet at the same time flow evenly over the surface of glass. Let it settle clear, and decant the solution. In order to "excite" this collodion, take a deep 1 ounce vial--introduce 2-1/2 grains of bromide of potassium, and add water, drop by drop, to make a saturated solution. In this solution dissolve 2-1/2 grains of iodide of potassium, then add 1 ounce of collodion, and shake well. Let it settle clear and decant for use. The solution must be decanted every day. In order to make the most sensitive collodion, I dissolve the bromide and iodide of potassium and the collodion[G] in a saturated solution of carbonate of ammonia in water. In using this collodion, pour it upon a clean glass plate to form a film in the usual way, and as soon as the collodion has set, and before it becomes dry, immerse the plate in a bath of nitrate of silver, made with 30 grains of nitrate of silver, 2 grains of iodide of silver, and 1 ounce water. Take the plate directly from the bath to the camera, and after sufficient exposure, the plate is taken to a dark room to develope the impression with the following solution: 'Take pyrogallic acid, 4 grains; acetic acid, No. 8, 1 ounce; dissolve and filter. For use, take of this liquid 1-1/2 drachms, diluted with 6-1/2 drachms of water, and when the impression is sufficiently developed, pour off the liquid, and immerse the plate in a solution of the hyposulphite of soda, 4 ounces to the pint of water. Wash the plate with pure water, and dry it in the usual way. [Footnote G: This is a mistake: the collodion is not to be dissolved in the "carbonate of ammonia in water," but only the bromide and iodide of potassium. I called Mr. Cutting's attention to this, and he said I was correct.--S. D. H.] The advantages of the above process are, the brief time required to produce an impression, and the sharpness of the pictures. Portraits can be taken with as much facility as with the Daguerreotype, and the pictures are sharp and of excellent tone. The impression thus obtained is negative, and the positive picture is produced in the usual way. I denominate this the mezzographic process. What I claim as my improvements in the process of obtaining photographic pictures, are-- _First._ Displacing the water from the cotton, for this purpose, with strong alcohol, as set forth. I do not claim the use of alcohol as a desiccating agent, but limit my claim to its special use and purpose, as herein stated. _Second._ The employment of bromide of potassium in combination with collodion. James A. Cutting. T. Campbell, } _Witnesses._ Samuel Grubb. } _Dated July 11th, 1854._ * * * * * PATENT FOR THE USE OF JAPANNED SURFACES PREVIOUSLY PREPARED UPON IRON OR OTHER METALLIC OR MINERAL SHEETS OR PLATES IN THE COLLODION PROCESS. _To all whom it may concern:_ Be it known that I, Hamilton L. Smith, of Gambier, in the County of Knox, and State of Ohio, have invented certain new and useful improvements in Photographic Pictures, and I do hereby declare the following to be a full, clear, and exact description of the same, and of the manner of making and using my invention or discovery. The nature of my invention or discovery relates to the taking of _positive_ pictures by the photographic process, upon a black japanned surface prepared upon iron or any other metallic plates or sheets, and consists in the use of collodion, and a solution of a salt of silver, and an ordinary camera. To enable others skilled in the art to make and use my invention. I will proceed to describe the manner of preparing and applying it which I have found to answer well in practice; not confining myself, however, to the special process or processes herein described, so long as the characteristics of the invention remain the same. I first take metallic sheets, preferring for the purpose iron, as this metal is the only one, except the precious metals, which is without action on the silver salts generally used, as also the other chemicals; but other metallic or mineral sheets may be used, and I do not, therefore, confine myself specially to any particular metal. Upon each of the sheets is prepared a black japanned or varnished surface, such as is used by tinners or japanners for coating metallic and other surfaces. The japan or varnish may be made and applied as follows:--Take one quart of raw linseed oil; add to this two ounces of asphaltum and sufficient umber, or lamp black, to give the desired shade. Boil these ingredients until a portion dropped on a cool surface will remain in a round spot without flowing away. It is then thick enough to use. If it should be too thick, it can readily be thinned with spirits of turpentine. Apply the japan to the sheets or plates with a brush, and after allowing it to stand a short time, until the marks of the brush disappear, place the sheets or plates in a drying oven and submit them to heat until the surface will bear the finger to be drawn over it without bringing off the japan; it may, if found necessary, be coated again and treated in a similar way, and finally polished with rotten-stone and oil, or other polishing material. Other ingredients may be used in making the japan, such as mastic, lac or copal varnish, and other shades of coloring matter may be used. By collodion I mean any solution of gun-cotton or pyroxyline; and by a solution of salt of silver, I mean any of the salts thereof which can be used in photography for obtaining positive impressions by a camera. A japanned surface may be prepared on glass, or on leather and other fibrous materials. Or glass may be made black by means of coloring matter introduced or embodied with the glass, so as to be _in_ instead of _on_ the glass. But foreseeing the difficulty of embracing all these applications in one application, I do not desire to have them so considered; but reserve the right to hereafter apply for such application of my general principle as I may deem essential, or of sufficient importance to be protected by Letters Patent. And it might be proper to add, that vulcanized gutta-percha or indurated rubber may be used as the basis upon which, or in which the japanned surface may be made. The invention, however, consists mainly on the surface, so that a silver picture may be made upon it, said surface forming the background of the picture. The ingredients for fixing and developing the positive impression, upon the japanned surface may be the same as those heretofore essayed by me in a former application, and need not again be repeated here. Though other chemicals, or other proportions of the same chemicals, may be used. Having thus fully described the nature of my improvement in photographic pictures, and shown how the same may be accomplished, what I claim therein as new and desire to secure by Letters Patent, is:-- The obtaining _positive_ impressions upon a japanned surface previously prepared upon an iron or other metallic or mineral sheet or plate, by means of collodion and a solution of a salt of silver and a camera, substantially as herein described. Hamilton L. Smith. Geo. T. Chapman. } _Witnesses._ James H. Lee. } _Dated February, 19th, 1856._ * * * * * PHOTOGRAPHIC PICTURES ON OIL. _To all whom it may concern:_ Be it known that I, Joel Haywood Tatum, of the City of Baltimore and State of Maryland, have discovered or invented a new and useful preparation of oil ground or body, and mode of preparing the same by which Photographic impressions, such as portraits of all sizes, landscapes or still life may be produced upon such oil prepared ground body or surface, whether upon canvass, mill-board, pannel, or other body whatever, without any permanent injury to such body, ground or surface for the reception of colors in oil (water) or dry (paste), without impairing the texture, quality, durability, or other desirable quality of the body ground, or surface rendered so impressible, and give the following as the Process used in accomplishing the result. I take ordinary prepared canvass, mill-board, pannel or other substance for the reception of oil painting by any composition of oil (or oleaginous substance) and oxide of lead or zinc, Spanish whiting, Fuller's earth, or their equivalents, singly or in combination, and after having removed all irregularities or lumps from the surface I damp or wet the surface with spirits of wine, and wipe clean; after which, I treat the surface with a solution of potassium or any good alkali, regulating the strength to the amount of oil in the body-ground or surface to be treated (ordinarily 1 oz. of super, carb. soda to 1 pint of water), as soon as the surface has uniformly changed color allow the surplus solution to run off, wash off by pouring over the surface clean water, let dry, but not by the fire or in the sun, as that would bring out the oil to the surface. When dry, treat the surface again with a solution of the chloride of sodium (of the strength ordinarily used and prescribed for paper positives), decant from the surface the superfluous fluid after a minute, and let dry, as before; remove to a dark room, and treat the surface with a solution of the nitrate of silver, its strength being governed by the strength of impression desired, usually 18 grains of nitrate of silver to 1 oz. of distilled water; allow the solution to float upon the surface a few moments to insure uniformity of deposit, and then decant the surplus, in the bottle or lath; place a small piece of filtering paper on the edge of the body, and place that, edge down, to facilitate the drainage; when dry, place the negative impression (which must previously have been obtained, by the use of the camera, either on collodion or albumen upon glass or upon paper) upon the body or ground to receive the impression in the position the picture is desired, with the face of the negative to the surface of the body to receive the impression. If the negative impression does not cover the whole surface, then a mat should be used so as to extend to the edge of the ground on all sides. Expose to the light, and, when sufficiently long, remove the negative into a dark room (lighted with a feeble lamp); dash over the impression a weak solution of hyposulphite of soda, and let stand a few moments; then wash off with a very dilute acid of only sufficient strength to neutralize the alkalies remaining upon the surface, usually five or six drops of sulphuric acid to an oz. of water is sufficient. What I claim as my own invention and discovery, and desire to secure by Letters Patent, is the mode of preparing and rendering oil (oroleaginous) bodies, grounds, or surfaces impressible or sensitive to the Photographic art by the temporary destruction or chemical change of the oil or oleaginous matter of the immediate surface only, by the use of spirits of wine and alkaline solution, or their equivalents, and, after fixing the impression by the use of hyposulphate of soda, the use of dilute acid, by which last application the alkalies are neutralized and the oil restored with the impression permanent upon the surface. Disclaiming everything heretofore known in the production of Photographic pictures upon paper or any unoiled body or surface. Joel Haywood Tatum. _Witnesses._ J. S. Hollingshead, } E. G. Handy. } Original, _dated April, 15. 1856_. Re-issue, _dated May 13, 1856_. * * * * * PATENT FOR MAKING THE BORDER OF THE PICTURE TRANSPARENT, AND PLACING THE MAT BACK OF THE PICTURE. _To all whom it may concern:_ Be it known that we, Albert Bisbee, of Columbus, in the County of Franklin and State of Ohio, and Y. Day, of Nashville, in the County of Davidson and State of Tennessee, have invented certain new and useful improvements in photographic pictures on glass, and we do hereby declare the following to be a full, clear and exact description of the same. The nature of our invention consists in making the edges of the coating or film on the glass transparent so that the picture is made only on the central part of the glass, and extending so far as to meet the inside edge of the mat or border, generally used in putting up such pictures, and then placing the mat back of the picture. To enable others skilled in the art to make and use our invention, we will proceed to describe the same as follows:-- We place inside of the camera, and about one-tenth of the focal distance of the lens from the glass, a board having an aperture of any desired pattern that we wish the edges to have. This board shades the edges of the glass, thereby leaving them transparent in the picture. Then the picture, being taken in the usual manner, is finished by varnishing with transparent white varnish, and then backed with japan varnish, care being taken to have the japan on the back extend only to meet the inside edges of the mat. Then we place the mat back of the picture and secure it in its place with the preserver. If applied to the process, as patented by J. A. Cutting, with two glasses, the picture is made as above described, and then the second glass is applied, and finished as before by backing with japan. The advantage of our improvement, is in having the mat protected from being soiled, and making the picture appear more round, causing an illusion as though the picture or image was suspended in the atmosphere, clear from the background. Having thus fully described the nature of our invention, what we claim therein as new, and desire to secure by Letters Patent, is, making the border of the picture transparent and placing the mat back of the picture, as described in the above specification, and for the purpose set forth. _Witnesses to the signature of A. Bisbee._ C. A. Barker, } Wm. Field. } A. Bisbee. _Witnesses to the signature of Y. Day._ B. Bingham, } W. Atkins. } Y. Day. _Dated May 27th, 1856._ * * * * * PATENT FOR THE APPLICATION OF COLORING SUBSTANCES, OR MATTER, TO PHOTOGRAPHIC IMPRESSIONS. Be it known that I, Giles Langdell, and Marcus A. Root, of Philadelphia, in the State of Pennsylvania, have invented a new and improved mode of coloring daguerreotype and other photographic portraits or pictures made on glass, metal or other material; and we do hereby declare that the following is a full and exact description:-- The nature of our invention or discovery consists in providing and applying both mineral and vegetable coloring matters in solution to the daguerreotype or any other photographic impression, introducing the said coloring matter either into the collodion or the developer, or by pouring upon the plate after the impression is fixed by hyposulphite of soda, or the cyanide of potassium, or by any other means. The several coloring substances, E. G. red saunders, alkanet, dragons' blood, &c., &c., can be used separately or in conjunction or compounded with various mineral substances, or with any coloring matters obtained from other roots, woods, gums or other vegetable matter, the proportions or quantity employed being varied or regulated by the lightness or depth and strength of tone which may, from time to time, be required. The desired or similar results may be obtained from different formulæ. The following answers for all practical purposes, but may be varied at pleasure:-- Digest for two or three days red saunders (pterocarpus santalinus) half a pound in three pints of water to which the aqua-ammonia has been added. Then pour off the solution and precipitate by the addition of nitric acid. Wash the precipitate thoroughly with water and dry it. Then dissolve it in strong alcohol and dilute with the same as required to produce the tone or tint that may be desired. Alkanet (anchusa tinctoria) may be prepared in the same way. Dragons' blood dissolved in alcohol and treated in the same manner will produce the various shades of yellow. The foregoing articles, and also madder, indigo, cochineal, and some other coloring substances both vegetable and mineral alone or combined, will produce pleasing results when applied as follows (although they may be introduced into the collodion):-- We prefer first to develope the impression, then to fix and dry it, and afterwards to flow on the toning or tinting solution, as collodion or varnish, &c., is poured upon the plate, allowing the solution to run off the corner, and then levelling the plate to make the fluid flow uniformly over and tint the whole surface of the plate evenly. Then wash at once and thoroughly with clean water, and stand the plate up to dry, after which it may be colored (the dress of any tint or color desired--the face, hands, &c., are flesh tint) with dry colors (as is usual in coloring daguerreotypes) applied to the collodion or upon the varnish. What we claim as our invention and discovery, and desire to secure by Letters Patent, is the application of coloring substances or matter to Photographic impressions or pictures upon glass or metal, or other material in the form and manner herein described. _Witnesses._ James J. B. Ogle, } Giles Langdell [L. S.] Williams Ogle, } M. A. Root. [L. S.] _Dated July 15th, 1856._ * * * * * PATENT FOR THE USE OF ALBUMENIZED COLLODION. _To all whom it may concern:_ Be it remembered, that I, Victor M. Griswold, of the City of Lancaster, in the County of Fairfield and State of Ohio, have invented certain improvements in the art and mode of taking Photographic Pictures, and I do hereby declare that the following is a full and exact description thereof: The nature of my invention consists in an improvement in the photographic art of taking pictures. To one quart of collodion prepared in the usual way or manner, I add three ounces of a solution prepared thus: The clear solution which results from the whites of eggs which have been well beaten, and one equal bulk of pure soft water. When this is added to the collodion, it is thrown to the bottom in long stringy white masses, which after a few days impart to the liquid albuminous properties, rendering the film closer in texture, and bringing out all the minor details more sharply and perfectly than by the ordinary collodion, and giving to the picture a glossy and sparkling tone, unlike any produced by other means. Another method which I frequently adopt is thus; albumen as above, without water, to which is added iodide of potassium forty grains; this throws down the albumen in jelly-like masses, and, when added to the collodion, not only iodizes it, but produces the same effect upon the collodion as by the formula above. Also, another method: one ounce of chloroform, to which is added one half ounce of albumen, prepared as above, iodized; this forms also a soft semi-transparent jelly, which on being added to the collodion produces perhaps the best effect of any of these preparations. This addition of albumen also answers a far better purpose, than any that has hitherto been employed for freeing old samples of collodion from free iodine held in suspension by which they can be rendered as clear and limpid as they were when first mixed. What I claim as my invention, and desire to secure by Letters Patent is the addition of albumen to collodion in the manner and for the purpose herein and above specified. V. M. Griswold. Alfred M'Veigh, } _Witnesses._ J. C. Heuley. } _Patented July 15th, 1856._ * * * * * COLORING AMBROTYPES. _To all whom it may concern:_ Be it known that we, D. B. Spooner and H. B. Spooner, of Springfield, in the County of Hampden, in the State of Massachusetts, having invented new and useful improvements in coloring Ambrotype or Photographic Pictures on glass, and we do hereby declare that the following is a full and exact description thereof:-- The nature of our invention consists, in so preparing the collodion film containing the picture in alternate placers with gum or other suitable material, so that when a penetrating dye or pigment, in a solution that will penetrate the collodion film, may be deposited on any particular portion of the picture between the collodion film and the glass, in order to give it the requisite color properly distributed between the face, drapery, &c. The following is the process adopted:-- After the picture is thoroughly washed and dried, proceed with a brush to cover any portion of the picture not designed to take the color, with a solution of gum or any other substance insoluble in the coloring solution, but soluble in any other liquid in which the coloring matter is not soluble. E. G.--Take a solution of gum arabic in water, and apply it to a portion of the picture. Now take a solution of turmeric in alcohol, and pour it upon the collodion surface of the picture, and you immediately get a deposit of the coloring matter between the collodion and the glass, the portion of the picture covered with the gum not being penetrated by the alcohol, is protected from the color while all other portions are colored. Then, by washing the picture in water, the gum is dissolved and washed off, and the parts uncolored may remain in their natural state without color, or, by applying the gum solution to the portion already colored with a part of the uncolored portion, another color may be produced by the use of another pigment in the same manner as before described. In this manner any number of colors may be produced; or, when a small portion only of the picture is to be colored, the whole of the picture may be colored and dried, and then that portion which is to retain the color may be covered with the gum solution, and the coloring matter not protected by the gum may be extracted with alcohol or other solvent, and the gum washed off as before. The advantages of our invention consist in depositing the coloring matter in its _various tints_ on the front side of the picture between the collodion and the glass, instead of coloring the fibre of the collodion, or the upper side of it, as is common, which does not show through to the positive side of the picture on account of the opacity of the silver deposit which forms the picture. We do not claim the coloring of a picture all over with a single tint, but What we claim as our invention and desire to secure by Letters Patent, is the application of gum arabic or other equivalent material, as set forth in the specification, for the purposes therein described, and no other. D. B. Spooner. H. B. Spooner. _Witnesses._ George W. Adams, } Chas. H. Codman. } _Patented August 5, 1856._ CHAPTER VIII. =THE COLLODIO-ALBUMEN PROCESS.= [Sidenote: COLLODIO-ALBUMEN PROCESS.] This is a process, invented by Dr. Taupenot, for obtaining negatives on glass, which bids fair to outrival all others, being easy of manipulation, and giving results of the most exquisite minutiæ and beauty. Glass plates, when prepared and excited by this process, may be kept at least a fortnight before being developed, and these plates when exposed in the frame may be developed immediately, or kept for days before commencing this operation. Indeed it is quite possible to prepare and excite a number of plates before leaving home to go on a tour of twelve or fourteen days; to expose the plates at any time or place during the journey, and bring them home to be developed. The manipulation may be said to consist of nine distinct operations. 1. Cleaning the plate. 2. Coating with iodized collodion. 3. Exciting the collodion film. 4. Coating with albumen. 5. Exciting the albumen coating. 6. Exposure in the camera. 7. Developing the image. 8. Fixing the image. 9. Varnishing the plate. Before describing these operations, I propose to give clear directions for preparing the necessary solutions, merely promising that, where I have deviated from the inventor's plan, it has been after performing careful experiments, to test the merits of the two modes of proceeding. The necessary solutions for this process are: Collodion bath solution. Iodized collodion. Iodized albumen. Albumen bath solution. Pyrogallic solution. Silver developing solution. Fixing solution. _Collodion Bath Solution._ Nitrate of silver in crystals 1 ounce. Iodide of potassium 2 grains. Distilled water 16 ounces. Alcohol 2 drachms. Dissolve the ounce of nitrate of silver in two ounces of the distilled water, and the two grains of iodide of potassium in one drachm of distilled water; mix the two solutions and shake well together until the precipitate which is first thrown down is re-dissolved; when this takes place, add the remaining fourteen ounces of distilled water, and the two drachms of alcohol. On the addition of the water a turbidness ensues, which must be removed by the solution being very carefully filtered through filtering paper; and the filtered liquid should be clear and transparent, free from any deposit or floating particles, and must possess a slightly acid reaction of test-paper. In order to ascertain if the solution thus prepared possesses the necessary amount of free acid without superabundance, proceed to test and to correct it, if necessary. _Iodized Collodion,_ The collodion to be used in this process must be one yielding good _negative_ pictures--that supplied by Home & Thornthwaite under the name of negative collodion answers admirably. This is supplied either ready iodized, or the collodion and iodizing in separate bottles. As this collodion becomes less sensitive after being iodized a fortnight, it is advisable to iodize no more than will be used in that time--therefore, obtain the collodion and the iodizing solution separate, as the mode of iodizing this collodion is very simple. Half an ounce of the iodizing solution is mixed with one ounce and a half of collodion, and the mixture allowed to settle twelve hours before being used; and it is even advisable to pour off the clear solution into a perfectly clean bottle, in order to get rid of any insoluble matter which may fall to the bottom. _Iodized Albumen._ White of egg (free from yelk) 10 ounces. Honey 1 ounce. Iodide of calcium 2 scruples. Yeast 1 tablespoonful. Mix these together in a tall glass jar, or wide-mouthed bottle of at least one pint capacity; tie a piece of paper, pierce with small holes over the top to keep out dust; then place the whole near a fire or other warm situation, where the temperature is not lower than seventy degrees, or higher than ninety degrees. In a few hours fermentation commences, which is evident by the formation of bubbles of gas, rising through the liquid. This action continues for five or six days; when it ceases, pour the whole on a paper-filter contained in a funnel, underneath which must be placed a bottle to receive the liquid as it passes through. The fluid being of a viscid nature filters slowly, generally occupying twelve hours. The filtered liquid is the "iodized albumen," which is said by Dr. Taupenot to keep good for years. It must be carefully preserved from dust or contact with any substance, as the success of the picture depends materially on the condition of this albumen. _Albumen Bath Solution._ Nitrate of silver 1 ounce and a half. Acetic acid, glacial 1 ounce. Distilled water 16 ounces. Animal charcoal 2 drachms. Dissolve the nitrate of silver in the distilled water, then add the acetic acid and animal charcoal, and keep in a closely stoppered bottle for use. _Pyrogallic Solution._ Pyrogallic acid 15 grains. Glacial acetic acid 2 drachms. Alcohol 2 drachms. Distilled water 7 ounces. Dissolve the pyrogallic acid in the distilled water, and then add the acetic acid and alcohol. _Silver Developing Solution._ Nitrate of silver 1 drachm. Acetic acid 2 drachms. Distilled water 7 ounces. Dissolve the nitrate of silver in the distilled water, and then add the acetic acid. _Fixing Solution._ Hyposulphite of soda 2 ounces. Water 1 pint--dissolve. _Varnish._ The varnish best adapted for this purpose is that supplied by Home & Thornthwaite, and termed negative varnish.[H] [Footnote H: In this country, Humphrey's Collodion Gilding is the article in almost universal use.] _Cleaning the Plate._ The plates must be cleaned in the usual way, merely premising that extra care must be observed to remove every impurity, as cleanliness in photography is an absolute necessity. In order to hold large plates whilst being cleaned, the "screw plate-holder" is exceedingly useful. This is made in three sizes, and adapts itself to all sized plates. The small size is useful for plates up to 7 inches by 6. The second size is for plates up to 10 inches by 8. And the third size for plates up to 14 inches by 10. _Coating with Iodized Collodion._ The plate having been thoroughly cleaned, and received its final polish by the use of a prepared chamois leather, is coated with negative collodion, which has been iodized at least twelve hours, and allowed to settle. _Exciting the Collodion Film._[I] [Footnote I: This and subsequent operations (except exposure in the camera) must be performed in a dark room.] After the ether has evaporated, and the surface of the collodion appears set, the plate must be laid, collodion side upwards, on a glass dipper, and plunged with _one downward movement_ into a bath filled to within an inch of the top with collodion bath solution, made as described at page 190, which must be carefully filtered through filtering paper before being used. After the plate has been allowed to remain in the bath one minute, it is lifted out three or four times, in order to facilitate the removal of the oily appearance the plate now presents. When the surface appears wetted uniformly, on being drawn out of the solution the plate is removed from the dipper, and the excess of solution drained off, and is then placed collodion side upwards, on a fixing stand, and distilled or filtered rain water poured over the surface, so as to remove as much as possible of the bath solution from the surface. The plate is now removed from the fixing stand; the back well washed with water, and then placed nearly upright on blotting paper, with the face against a wall for _one minute_ to drain. _Coating with Albumen._ Having allowed the plate to drain one minute, place it again on a levelling stand, with the film upwards, and pour over it as much of the iodized albumen as the plate will hold, from a glass measure containing not more than enough of the albumen to coat two plates with, pour off the excess into the measure, and again cover the plate with albumen three separate times; ultimately drain off as much as possible of the excess of albumen, and place the plate nearly upright against the wall, with the coated side inwards, to dry, which takes place in an ordinary temperature in about one hour. In coating with albumen, the presence of air-bubbles or dust must be guarded against. The former can be easily done by taking care, in pouring the albumen into the measure and on the plate, not to pour so as to generate air-bubbles in the liquid. But should any be detected, hold the plate horizontally and give it another coating of albumen, then incline the plate so that the bulk of the liquid shall pass over and carry off the bubbles with the running stream. Dust on the plate must be prevented by operating in a room as free from this photographic enemy as possible. In order to render the coating of albumen as uniform as possible, the plate must stand to dry on two or three layers of filtering paper and the upper surface must touch the wall at _one point only_ and not to be allowed to rest against it along its entire upper edge. When the albumen coating is _thoroughly dry_ (and not till then), the plate is ready to be excited, but if more have been prepared than are likely to be used for taking pictures on during the next ten days or fortnight, they may be stowed away in a plate box, ready to receive the sensitive coating at any time. The author's experience has led him to believe that these albumenized plates will keep good any length of time, as plates which had been coated a month, when excited, exposed, and developed, appeared to possess all the properties of recently prepared plates. _Exciting the Albumen Coating._ Prior to the plates being excited they must be _thoroughly dry_ and free from any particles of loose dust on the surface, back, or edge. Sufficient of the albumen bath solution, page 192, must be filtered through filtering paper to fill a dipping bath of the required size, so that the plate can be immersed in it. The careful filtering of the fluid is very necessary in order to free it from any floating particles, and to separate the animal charcoal. The plate is now taken and laid, albumen side upwards, on the dipper, and then lowered into the bath with one steady downward movement, where it is allowed to remain one minute; it is then taken out, the excess of liquid drained off, and placed on the fixing stand, with the albumen surface uppermost, and a stream of water poured over it for at least one minute, so as to remove every particle of the bath solution. This complete washing is very necessary, in order to prevent stains in the after development, which invariably takes place around the edges, if not thoroughly washed. The plate having been thoroughly washed, is leaned against a wall to dry, or if required for immediate exposure, may be dried on a plate of heated metal or foot warmer, but in no case must the exposure in the camera take place until the surface is thoroughly dry. _Exposure in the Camera._[J] [Footnote J: Remarks as to the selection of the view, &c., are not given, as this can be effected by the individual taste of the operator, but care must be taken that direct rays from the sun shall not fall on the lens or enter the camera during the exposure of a plate.] As has been before stated, this operation may take place immediately the plate is thoroughly dry after being excited, or a fortnight may intervene between the excitement and exposure, provided the plate is kept very carefully excluded from light and any chemical or sulphurous vapors, in a plate-box adapted for that purpose, with the sensitive surface towards the back of the box. When the exposure is about to take place, or at any time previously, the camera-backs may each have a plate placed in them ready for exposure; to do this, the camera-back must be taken into the operating room and the door closed, so as to exclude all white light. The hinged flap of the camera back is opened, and the prepared plate laid, with its sensitive surface downwards, or next the sliding flap, so that its corners may rest on the silver wire corners of the plate frame previously placed within the camera back ready to receive it. The hinged flap is now closed and kept from opening by turning the flap button over it; the sliding flap is examined to see that it is pushed closely down so as to guard any access of light, and it is then ready to be placed in the camera, and may be taken into the open air with impunity. Should the exposure not take place immediately, or, should the camera back have to be carried any distance, it is advisable either to wrap it up in black cloth, or secure the flaps from the chance of coming open during transit, by a stout string being tied around the back. The focussing is conducted in the usual way and the cap replaced on the lens; the focussing glass is now removed and the camera back fitted into the same aperture, with the sliding flap next the lens. The sliding flap is pulled up to its fullest extent, placing the hand on the camera back to prevent it rising out of the camera with this action. The cap of the lens is then removed, so that the light may be admitted into the camera, and to fall on the sensitive surface of the plate. After the necessary time of exposure has taken place, the cap is replaced on the lens, the sliding flap is pushed down, and the camera back withdrawn from the camera; the plate can then be taken into the operating room to be developed, or this operation may be deferred for days or even a week, or more if convenient. The time of exposure in the camera varies according to the intensity of the light and the aperture and focal length of the lens; therefore, to give the exact time of exposure would be impossible, still it may assist the amateur if I give the time required in summer with full sunshine, and merely state that this time may be increased to double in winter or dull weather. In the ordinary sunshine of a summer's day the time of exposure will be: 30 seconds with a lens of 4-inch focus and 1/2-inch stop. 21 seconds with a lens of 4-inch focus and 5/8-inch stop. 5 seconds with a lens of 4-inch focus and 1-1/4 inch aperture with no stop. 1-1/2 minute with a lens of 6-inch focus and 1/2-inch stop. 4-1/2 seconds with a lens of 6-inch focus and 2-1/4-inch aperture with no stop. 2 minutes with a lens of 8-inch focus and 1/2-inch stop. 1-1/4 minute with a lens of 8-inch focus and 5/8-inch stop. 3-1/4 minutes with a lens of 10-inch focus and 1/2-inch stop. 2 minutes with a lens of 10-inch focus and 5/8-inch stop. 5 seconds with a lens of 10-inch focus, 3-1/4-inch aperture, with no stop. 6-1/4 minutes with a lens of 14-inch focus and 1/2-inch stop. 4 minutes with a lens of 14-inch focus and 5/8-inch stop. 2-1/4 minutes with a lens of 14-inch focus and 3/4-inch stop. 8-1/4 minutes with a lens of 16-inch focus and 1/2-inch stop. 5-1/4 minutes with a lens of 16-inch focus and 5/8-inch stop. 2-1/4 minutes with a lens of 16-inch focus and 3/4-inch stop. _Developing the Image._ The camera back is taken into the operating room, from which all white light is carefully excluded, the plate removed from the camera back, and laid, albumen side upwards, on the fixing stand; as much distilled water is now poured on it as the surface will hold, taking care that every part of the sensitive surface is covered with the liquid; allow the water to remain on the surface for one minute, then pour off and drain slightly; replace the plate on the stand, and pour over the surface so as thoroughly to cover every part, the pyrogallic solution (made as described at page 192, and carefully filtered just before being used); allow this to remain on the plate for one minute, then drain off into a perfectly clean measure, and add to it an equal bulk of silver developing solution, page 192; mix these thoroughly together with a glass rod, and then pour the mixed liquids over the plate; allow them to rest until the picture begins to appear, which generally takes about from three to five minutes; then pour off and on repeatedly, until the developing fluid becomes opaque, which then contains floating particles, and these, if allowed to do so, would settle on the plate, to the injury of the picture; but this may be prevented by brushing the surface with a camel's-hair brush frequently during the development. When this opacity of the developing fluid takes place, drain all the fluid off the plate, and thoroughly wash with water; then mix another quantity of pyrogallic and silver developing solution in the same proportions as before, and pour this on and off the plate as before, until the picture appears sufficiently intense, and the middle shades well brought out; when this takes place drain off, and wash with water, so as to clean the surface thoroughly, and the plate is then ready for the next step, "fixing the image." Should the picture begin to develope in less than three minutes after the application of the mixed developing fluids, thoroughly drain the plate, and wash well with water, then continue the development with a solution of three parts pyrogallic solution and one part silver developing solution; but should the picture not begin to appear in five minutes, the addition of half a drachm of the albumen bath solution to each ounce of mixed developing solution will be necessary, in order to obtain the middle shades and the required intensity. It may be stated, as a guide, that the best negatives which the author has produced occupied from ten to twelve minutes in developing. _Fixing the Image._ The plate, having been thoroughly freed from the developing fluid by careful washing, is now placed on the fixing stand, and the surface covered by the fixing solution, made as described at page 192, being poured over it. In a few seconds the yellow opalescent color of the film will begin to disappear, and its complete removal may be hastened by blowing gently on the plate, so as to disturb the fluid. When every particle of yellowness has disappeared, the fixing solution is drained off, and the surface _thoroughly_ washed, and it is then leaned against the wall to drain and dry. _Varnishing the Plate._ The plate, being thoroughly dry, is ready to receive a coating of transparent varnish.[K] in order to protect the albumen surface from injury during the printing process. To do this effectually the plate must be held before a fire, or over a lamp, until it is slightly warm all over; then pour over its surface the negative varnish, in the same manner as collodion is applied; allow the superfluous varnish to drain back into the bottle; hold the plate again before the fire until the whole of the spirit is evaporated; and, when cold, the plate is ready to be printed from, so as to produce any number of positive pictures on paper. [Footnote K: Humphrey's Collodion Gilding is the best for this purpose.] It will be observed, that in describing this process, the operator has been supposed to be so situated, that in case a second view of the same spot were required, he could return to his operating room, remove the plate which had been exposed, from the camera back to the plate box, and place another in the camera back, ready for taking another view. But, unfortunately, this is not at all times practicable. We, therefore, require some means of removing the plates, after being exposed, from the camera back into the plate box, and substituting others in their stead, whilst we are in the open air. In order to effect this, the "field plate box" has been devised by the author, by the aid of which the plates may be removed from the box, exposed in the camera, and again returned into the box, without any possibility of access of light falling on it. This box is but a trifle larger than the ordinary one, and is furnished with two sliding bottoms, working in grooves, one over the other; the lower bottom has a grooved channel, into which the side of the camera back slides; the camera back has an aperture through the side, closed by a narrow slide, and the lower bottom of the field box has a corresponding one. We now suppose the field box to have been previously filled with excited glass plates, having their sensitive sides towards the back of the box, and the box lid closed. The bottom slide is now pushed on until the aperture is in a line with any particular groove of the field box (which position is indicated by a numbered scale and index point). The camera back is then slid on to its place on the field box, so that the hinged flap is towards the front of the box, and its narrow slide drawn out. The upper slide is then withdrawn, and the box inclined, so that the plate in that groove opposite the aperture in the lower slide, may pass through into the camera back. When this has taken place, push in the narrow slide of the camera back, invert the box, and push in the inner slide; then withdraw the camera back from its channel, and expose the plate in the camera. When this is done, slide the back again into its channel, draw out the inner box slide, then the narrow camera back slide, invert the box, and the plate will then leave the camera back and pass into the field box, occupying the same groove as before. In order to get out another plate, slide the lower bottom, so that the index points to the number on the scale, as that of the groove in which the required plate is situate. Then proceed as before directed. CHAPTER IX. On a mode of Printing enlarged and reduced Positives, etc., from Collodion Negatives. To explain the manner in which a photograph may be enlarged or reduced in the process of printing, it will be necessary to refer to the remarks made at page 20, on the _conjugate foci_ of lenses. If a collodion negative be placed at a certain distance in front of a camera, and (by using a tube of black cloth) the light be admitted into the dark chamber only through the negative, a reduced image will be formed upon the ground glass; but if the negative be advanced nearer, the image will increase in size, until it becomes first equal to, and then larger than, the original negative; the focus becoming more and more distant from the lens, or _receding_, as the negative is brought nearer. Again, if a negative portrait be placed in the camera slide, and if the instrument be carried into a dark room, a hole be cut in the window-shutter so as to admit light through the negative, the luminous rays, after refraction by the lens, will form an image of the exact size of life upon a white screen placed in the position originally occupied by the sitter. These two planes, in fact, that of the object and of the image, are strictly _conjugate foci_, and, as regards the result, it is immaterial from which of the two, anterior or posterior, the rays of light proceed. Therefore in order to obtain a reduced or enlarged copy of a negative, it is necessary only to form an image of the size required, and to project the image upon a sensitive surface either of collodion or paper. A good arrangement for this purpose may be made by taking an ordinary portrait camera, and prolonging it in front by a deal box blackened inside and with a double body, to admit of being lengthened out as required; or, more simply, by adding a framework of wood covered in with black cloth. A groove in front carries the negative, or receives the slide containing the sensitive layer, as the case may be. In reducing photographs, the negative is placed in front of the lens, in the position ordinarily occupied by the object; but in making an enlarged copy it must be fixed behind the lens, or, which is equivalent, the lens must be turned round so that the rays of light, transmitted by the negative, enter the back glass of the combination, and pass out at the front. This point should be attended to in order to avoid indistinctness of image from spherical aberration. A portrait combination of lenses of 2-1/2 or 3-1/4 inches is the best form to use, and the actinic and luminous foci should accurately correspond, as any difference between them would be increased by enlarging. A stop of an inch or an inch and a half aperture placed between the lenses obviates to some extent the loss of sharp outline usually following enlargement of the image. The light may be admitted through the negative by pointing the camera towards the sky; or direct sunlight may be used, thrown upon the negative by a plane reflector. A common swing looking-glass, if clear and free from specks, does very well; it should be so placed that the centre on which it turns is on a level with the axis of the lens. The best negatives for printing enlarged positives are those which are distinct and clear; and it is important to use a small negative, which strains the lens less and gives better results than one of larger size. In printing by 2-1/4 lens for instance, prepare the negative upon a plate about two inches square and afterwards enlarge it four diameters. Paper containing chloride of silver is not sufficiently sensitive to receive the image, and the print should be formed upon collodion, or on iodized paper developed by gallic acid. The exposure required will vary not only with the intensity of the light and the sensibility of the surface used, but also with the degree of reduction or enlargement of the image. In printing upon collodion the resulting picture is positive by transmitted light; it should be backed up with white varnish, and then becomes positive by reflected light. The tone of the blacks is improved by treating the plate first with bichloride of mercury, and then with ammonia. Mr. Wenham, who has written a most practical paper on the mode of obtaining positives of the life size, operates in the following way:--he places the camera, with the slide containing the negative in a dark room, and reflects the sunlight in through a hole in the shutter, so as to pass first through the negative and then through the lens; the image is received upon iodized paper, and developed by gallic acid. _On Printing Collodion Transparencies for the Stereoscope._--This may be done by using the camera to form an image of the negative in the mode described at the last page; but more simply by the following process:--Coat the glass, upon which the print is to be formed, with collodio-iodide of silver in the usual way, then lay it upon a piece of black cloth, collodion side uppermost, and place two strips of paper of about the thickness of cardboard and one-fourth of an inch broad, along the two opposite edges, to prevent the negative being soiled by contact with the film. Both glasses must be perfectly flat, and even then it may happen that the negative is unavoidably wetted; if so, wash it immediately with water, and if it be properly varnished no harm will result. A little ingenuity will suggest a simple framework of wood, on which the negative and sensitive plate are retained, separated only by the thickness of a sheet of paper; and the use of this will be better than holding the combination in the hand. The printing is conducted by the light of gas or of a camphine or moderator lamp, diffused daylight would be too powerful. The employment of a concave reflector, which maybe purchased for a few shillings, ensures parallelism of rays, and is a great improvement. The lamp is placed in the focus of the mirror, which may at once be ascertained by moving it backwards and forwards until an _evenly illuminated circle_ is thrown upon a white screen held in front. This in fact is one of the disadvantages of printing by a naked flame--that the light falls most powerfully upon the central part; and less so upon the edges, of the negative. * * * * * (From Humphrey's Journal, No. 17, Vol. 8.) On the Use of Alcohol for Sensitizing Paper. [Sidenote: TO SENSITIZE PAPER.] I have practised for some time the following simple method, which appears to me to be very superior for cleanliness and celerity in working, for depth of tone, and especially for purity of white in its results. By means of it T have produced very satisfactory results upon paper which was otherwise nearly worthless. To your sensitizing solution (which should be not less than 60 grains to the ounce), whether simple nitrate or ammonio-nitrate, add 50 per cent, of alcohol. Float the paper upon the solution for 40 seconds. This method answers equally well for albumenized or plain paper. You will find that the solution penetrates the paper which flattens _instantaneously_ upon it. It becomes as transparent as though it were oiled, and every minute air-bubble or defect in the paper is rendered visible. Remove the air-bubbles by pressing upon the paper about an inch from the bubble, and thus driving it out under the paper. In doing this, if the solution flows partially over the back of the paper, shake it until the paper is wholly immersed, which will prevent any unevenness in printing. The paper reassumes its transparency in the toning bath, but it will dry a pure white. The sensitising solution will not become materially discolored even after frequent applications of albumenized paper. Should it become so much discolored as to give a dark hue to the paper, shake it in a bottle with two drachms Of animal charcoal and leave it a night to settle. It will filter clear. A very small portion of your solution may be made available in sensitizing a sheet of paper by pouring it upon a clean glass, the size of the paper or a little larger, which is carefully levelled and nicely laying down the paper upon it. This is useful when your solution is too small to float in your trays. The alcohol causes it to flow and be absorbed with perfect evenness. To remove the papers from the solution and dry them:--Provide a dozen or more clothes-pins, of the kind that are supplied with a ring of india-rubber for a spring. Into the top drive a pin firmly and bend it to a hook. Lift a corner of the paper by passing under it the point of a quill tooth-pick, and attach to it one of the clothes-pins; lift the edge out by this, and attach another to the other corner. You may thus carry the sheet by the pins and hang it upon a line to dry without touching it with the fingers, a matter of some importance to Amateurs of the art, who must have unstained hands for their day's _business_. It may be worth while here to add the following simple and economical method of printing, which I have found to surpass in convenience and afford all the advantages of the most expensive printing frames. Four common clothes-pins, such as work with a _wire_ spring supply pressure enough for a 4/4-plate. Lay your prepared paper upon the negative, and next to it about twenty _separate leaves_ of thin common wrapping paper cut to the size of the negative; next a sheet of tolerably stiff and smooth writing paper, and lastly, a piece of glass as a back to the whole. Let the glass back be pushed from the lower edge of the papers about 1/20 of an inch, or just so far as to enable you to pinch the negative and papers with the thumb-nail and forefinger. Attach a pin to each corner and your negative is prepared for exposure. Now, to examine your picture without endangering its displacement:--remove the pins from one end, and place it, face downwards, on a table, the other end with pins attached projecting an inch beyond the edge. Hold down the back glass with the left hand, while with the right you remove the pins and pinch the papers and negative together between the forefinger and thumb-nail. Upon the smooth sheet of paper you can easily slide the back glass an inch from the edge. Hold it there, and on the uncovered margin attach _three_ of the pins with as deep a bite as they will take. You may now examine your picture to within an inch of its margin, as you would turn over the leaves of a book. To replace the back, lay it again on the table and slide the back glass up to the pins before you remove them. The rest of the process is obvious. The minutiæ of my communication may excite a smile with some, but I shall always act upon the principle, that nothing is more out of place than an apology for minuteness in describing manipulations. G. B. C. * * * * * Recovery of Silver from waste Solutions,--from the black Deposit of Hypo Baths, etc. [Sidenote: RECOVERY OF WASTE SILVER, ETC.] The manner for separating metallic silver from waste solutions varies according to the presence or absence of alkaline hyposulphite and cyanides. a. _Separation of metallic Silver from old Nitrate Baths._--The silver contained in solutions of the nitrate, acetate, etc.; may easily be precipitated by suspending a strip of sheet copper in the liquid; the action is completed in two or three days, the whole of the nitric acid and oxygen passing to the copper, and forming a blue solution of the nitrate of copper. The metallic silver however separated in this manner, always contains a portion of copper, and gives a blue solution when dissolved in nitric acid. A better process is to commence by precipitating the silver entirely in the form of _chloride of silver_, by adding common salt until no further milkiness can be produced. If the liquid is well stirred, the chloride of silver sinks to the bottom, and may be washed by repeatedly filling the vessel with common water, and pouring off the upper clear portion when the clots have again settled down. The chloride of silver thus formed may afterwards be reduced to metallic silver by a process which will presently be described. b. _Separation of Silver from solutions containing alkaline Hyposulphites, Cyanides or Iodides._--In this case the silver cannot be precipitated by adding chloride of sodium, since the chloride of silver is _soluble_ in such liquids. Therefore it is necessary to use the sulphuretted hydrogen, or the hydrosulphate of ammonia, and to separate the silver in the form of _sulphuret_. Sulphuretted hydrogen gas is readily prepared, by fitting a cork and flexible tubing to the neck of a pint bottle, and having introduced _sulphuret of iron_ (sold by operative chemists for the purpose), about as much as will stand in the palm of the hand, pouring upon it 1-1/2 fluid ounces of oil of vitriol diluted with 10 ounces of water. The gas is generated gradually without the application of heat; and must be allowed to bubble up through the liquid from which the silver is to be separated. The smell of sulphuretted hydrogen being offensive, and highly poisonous if inhaled in a concentrated form, the operation must be carried on in the open air, or in a place where the fumes may escape without doing injury. When the liquid begins to acquire a strong and persistent odor of sulphuretted hydrogen, the precipitation of sulphuret is completed. The black mass must therefore be collected upon a filter, and washed by pouring water over it, until the liquid which runs through gives little or no precipitation with a drop of nitrate of silver. The silver may also be separated in the form of sulphuret from old hypo baths, by adding oil of vitriol in quantity sufficient to decompose the hyposulphite of soda; and burning off the free sulphur from the brown deposit. _Conversion of Sulphuret of Silver into Metallic Silver._--The black sulphuret of silver may be reduced to the state of metal by roasting and subsequent fusion with carbonate of soda; but it is more convenient, in operating on a small scale, to proceed in the following manner:--first convert the sulphuret into nitrate of silver, by boiling with nitric acid diluted with two parts of water; when all evolution of red fumes has ceased, the liquid may be diluted, allowed to cool, and filtered from the insoluble portion, which consists principally of sulphur, but also contains a mixture of chloride and sulphuret of silver, unless the nitric acid employed was free from chlorine; this precipitate may be heated in order to volatilize the sulphur, and then digested with hyposulphite of soda, or added to the hypo bath. The solution of nitrate of silver obtained by dissolving sulphuret of silver is always strongly acid with nitric acid, and also contains _sulphate_ of silver. It may be crystallized by evaporation; but unless the quantity of material operated on is large, it will be better to precipitate the silver in the form of chloride, by adding common salt, as already recommended. * * * * * On the Use of Test Papers. [Sidenote: ON THE USE OF TEST PAPERS.] The nature of the coloring matter which is employed in the preparation of litmus-paper has already been described at page 98. In testing for the alkalies and basic oxides generally, the blue litmus-paper which has been reddened by an acid may be used, or, in place of it, the turmeric paper. Turmeric is a yellow vegetable substance which possesses the property of becoming brown when treated with an alkali; it is however decidedly less sensitive than the reddened litmus, and is scarcely affected by the weaker bases, such as oxide of silver. In using test papers observe the following precautions:--they should be kept in a dark place, and protected from the action of the air, or they soon become purple from carbonic acid, always present in the atmosphere in small quantity. By immersion in water containing about one drop of liquor potassæ in four ounces, the blue color is restored. Test-papers prepared with porous paper show the red color better than those upon glazed or strongly sized paper. If the quantity of acid present however is small, it is not sufficient in any case simply to dip the paper in the liquid; a small strip should be thrown in, and allowed to remain for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour. If the paper, on immersion, assumes a _wine-red_ or purple tint, in place of a decided red, it is probably caused by carbonic aid gas: in that case the blue color returns when the paper is washed and held to the fire. Blue litmus-papers may be changed to the red papers used for alkalies by soaking in water acidified with sulphuric acid, one drop to half a pint. * * * * * The Salting and Albumenizing Paper. [Sidenote: SALTING PAPER, ETC.] Take of Chloride of ammonium, or pure chloride of sodium 200 grains. Water 10 fluid oz. Albumen 10 fluid oz. If distilled water cannot be procured, rain water or even common spring water[L] will answer the purpose. To obtain the albumen, use new-laid eggs, and be careful that in opening the shell the yelk is not broken; each egg will yield about one fluid ounce of albumen. [Footnote L: If the water contained much sulphate of lime, it is likely that the sensitiveness of the paper would be impaired (?).] When the ingredients are mixed, take a bundle of quills or a fork, and beat the whole into a perfect froth. As the froth forms, it is to be skimmed off and placed in a flat dish to subside. The success of the operation depends entirely upon the manner in which this part of the process is conducted; if the albumen is not thoroughly beaten, flakes of animal membrane will be left in the liquid, and will cause streaks upon the paper. When the froth has partially subsided, transfer it to a tall and narrow jar, and allow to stand for several hours, that the membranous shreds may settle to the bottom. Pour off the upper clear portion, which is fit for use. Albumenous liquids are too glutinous to run well through a paper filter, and are better cleared by subsidence. A more simple plan than the above, and one equally efficacious, is to fill a bottle to about three parts with the salted mixture of albumen and water, and to shake it well for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, until it loses its glutinosity and can be poured out smoothly from the neck of the bottle. It is then to be transferred to an open jar, and allowed to settle as before. The solution, prepared by the above directions, will contain exactly ten grains of salt to the ounce, dissolved in an equal bulk of albumen and water. Some operators employ the albumen alone without an addition of water, but the paper in that case has a very highly varnished appearance, which is thought by most to be objectionable. The principal difficulty in albumenizing paper is to avoid the occurrence of streaky lines, which, when the paper is rendered sensitive, bronze strongly under the influence of the light. The writer believes these to be caused by a commencing decomposition of the animal matter composing the cells in which the albumen is retained and the best remedy appears to be to use the eggs quite fresh; the same object may sometimes (but not invariably) be attained by allowing the albumen to stand for several weeks until it has become sour; after which it will be sufficiently limpid to run through a filter. In salting and albumenizing photographic paper by the formula above given, it was found that each quarter sheet, measuring eleven by nine inches, removed one fluid drachm and a half from the bath; equivalent to about one grain and three quarters of salt (including droppings). In salting plain paper, each quarter sheet took up only one drachm; so that the glutinous nature of the albumen causes a third part more of the salt to be retained by the paper. _Selection of the Paper._--The English papers are not good for albumenizing; they are too dense to take the albumen properly, and curl up when laid upon the liquid; the process of toning the prints is also slow and tedious. The thin negative paper of Canson, the Papier Rieve, and Papier Saxe, have succeeded with the writer better than Canson's positive paper, which is usually recommended; they have a finer texture and give more smoothness of grain. To apply the albumen; pour a portion of the solution into a flat dish to the depth of half an inch. Then, having previously cut the paper to the proper size, take a sheet by the two corners, bend it into a curved form, convexity downwards, and lay it upon the albumen, the centre part first touching the liquid and the corners being lowered gradually. In this way all bubbles of air will be pushed forwards and excluded. One side only of the paper is wetted: the other remains dry. Allow the sheet to rest upon the solution for one minute and a half, and then raise it off, and up by two corners. If any circular spots, free from albumen, are seen, caused by bubbles of air, replace the sheet for the same length of time as at first. The paper must not allowed to remain upon the salting bath much longer than the time specified, because the solution of albumen being _alkaline_ (as is shown by the strong smell of ammonia evolved on the addition of the chloride of ammonium), tends to remove the size from the paper and sink in too deeply; thus losing its surface gloss. Albumenized paper will keep a long time in a dry place. Some have recommended to press it with a heated iron, in order to coagulate the layer of albumen upon the surface; but this precaution is unnecessary, since the coagulation is perfectly affected by the nitrate of silver used in the sensitizing; and it is doubtful whether a layer of dry albumen would admit of coagulation by the simple application of a heated iron. _To render the paper sensitive._--This operation must be conducted by the light of a candle, or by yellow light. Take of Nitrate of Silver 60 grains. Distilled Water 1 ounce. Prepare a sufficient quantity of this solution, and lay the sheet upon it in the same manner as before. Three minutes' contact will be sufficient with the thin negative paper, but if the Canson positive paper is used, lour or five minutes must be allowed for the decomposition. The papers are raised from this solution by a pair of bone forceps or common tweezers tipped with sealing-wax; or a pin may be used to lift up the corner, which is then taken by the finger and thumb and allowed to drain a little before again putting in the pin, otherwise a white mark will be produced upon the paper, from decomposition of the nitrate of silver. When the sheet is hung up, a small strip of blotting-paper suspended from the lower edge of the paper will serve to drain off the last drop of liquid. The solution of nitrate of silver becomes after a time discolored by the albumen, but may be used for sensitizing until it is nearly black. The color can be removed by animal charcoal,[M] but a better plan is to use the "kaolin" or pure white china clay. The writer has also tried the common "pipe-clay," which answered perfectly, but appeared to injure the sensitiveness of paper subsequently floated upon the bath (?). [Footnote M: Common animal charcoal contains carbonate and phosphate of lime the former of which renders the nitrate of silver _alkaline_; purified animal charcoal is usually acid from hydrochloric acid.] Sensitive albumenized paper, prepared as above, will usually keep for several days, if protected from the light, but afterwards turns yellow from partial decomposition. =Comparison of British and French Weights and Measures.= [Sidenote: WEIGHTS AND MEASURES.] WEIGHTS. Grain, Apothecaries' = 0·0648 grammes, French. Ounce " = 31·102 " " Avoirdupois = 28·346 " Drachm, Apothecaries' = 3·888 " ---- Gramme = 15·4310 grains, Apoth. Decigramme = 1·5434 " " Centigramme = 0·1543 " " ---- MEASURES OF CAPACITY. _Cubic Inches._ _Fluid Ounces._ Litre = 61·028 = 35·79 Decilitre = 6·02 = 3·57 Centilitre = 0·610 = 0·35 Millilitre = 0·061 = 0·03 ---- _Lb._ _Oz._ Killogramme = 2 3-1/4 Avoirdupois. ---- MEASURES OF LENGTH. Metre = 39·37 inches. Decimetre = 3·93 " Centimetre = 0·39 " Millimetre = 0·03 " ---- Cubic inch of water at 32° = 252·45 grains. " " mercury " = 3425·35 " Fluid oz. of water = 437·50 " " " measures = 1·73 cub. in. 1 f. drachm = 54·68 grains. 1 pint (New York) = 27·68 cub. in. 1 oz. bromine = 2-1/2 f. drachms. 1 grain, Troy or Apoth. = 1·097 gr. Avoir. 1 lb. Avoir. = 7000 Troy grs. 1 " = 7680 of its own grs. The drachm Avoirdupois is never used except in weighing silk. Pendulum vibrating seconds at New York = 39·102 inches. In weighing solids, few weights are really necessary if they are properly assorted; nothing less than half a grain is likely to be useful, and the series following will weigh any quantity from the half grain to two thousand one hundred and ten and a half grains, by differences of only a single grain. The numbers are in grains, but the same principle may be carried out with any other denomination, whether ounces, pounds, or tons. 1/2, 1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 20, 30, 40, 100, 200, 300, 400, 1000, &c. The artist should be provided with not less than three glass measures--one of a pint, graduated to ounces--one of two ounces, graduated to drachms--and one of two drachms, graduated to minims. * * * * * =Lewis's Patent Glass Baths= for Nitrate of Silver Solutions.--Since the foregoing pages have been in print this new article of Baths has been introduced, and will probably supersede all others now in market. They are encased in a box made expressly to hold them, and form a valuable and important improvement in the apparatus used in the various Glass processes. INDEX. Aberration, chromatic, 23; spherical, 22. Acetic acid, 66. Albumen, 63; preparation of positive paper with, 206. Alcohol, 70; used in sensitizing paper, 201. Ammonia, 71. Ammonio-nitrate of silver, preparation and use of, 152. Animal charcoal, 74. Barium, chloride of, 77. Baths, glass, 211; gutta-percha, 34. Bichloride of mercury for whitening positives, 159. Bromide and iodide of potassium and silver, 60. Bromide of potassium, 73. Bromine, properties of, 72. Bromo-iodized collodion for positives, (ambrotypes), 58, 59; for negatives, 60. Camera boxes, 28. Camera, construction of, 28. Camera stands, 31. Carbonate of soda, 73. Chemical and visual focus, 21. China clay, 75. Chloride of ammonium, 77. Chloride of barium, 77. Chloride of gold, preparation of, 83; for toning, 155 Chloride of sodium, 78. Chlorine, 75. Chromatic aberration, 22. Citric acid, 78. Cleaning glass plates, 129. Coating large glasses with collodion, 160. Collodion, manufacture of, 53; iodized for positives, 58, 59; for negatives, 60; mode of coating glasses with, 131; vials, 38. Collodio-Albumen process, Dr. Taupenot, 190. Color-boxes, 38. Cutting's patents and correspondence, 173. Cyanide of potassium, 79; use of, 63. Decomposition of light, 16. Developing solution for positives, 62; for negatives, 144, 145. Dippers, glass and gutta-percha, 34. Double iodide of potassium and silver, 61. Ether, preparation of, 79. Fixing positives on glass, 134; negatives on glass, 146; positives on paper, 155. Fluoride of potassium, 81. Fogging of collodion positives, 137. Formic acid, 81. Fulminating gold, 84. Gelatine, properties of, 82; for mounting photographs, 157. Glass, cementing, 158. Glass plates, cleaning of, 129; coating with collodion, 131; coating with albumen, 193. Glass rods, bending of, 158. Glycerine, its properties, 82. Gold, chloride of, preparation of, 85; for toning, 155. Grape sugar, 86. Hadow, Mr., Researches and Formula for making soluble cotton, 46; on iodizing collodion, 54. Head rests, 33. Helio, collodion process for positives and negatives, 164. Honey, 86. Humphrey's collodion gilding, 63. Hydrochloric acid, 87. Hydriodic acid, 87. Hydrosulphuric acid, 88. Hypo bath, 203. Hyposulphite of gold, 85. Hyposulphite of silver, 17. Hyposulphite of soda, preparation and properties of, 89. Instantaneous positives, 159. Iodide of ammonium, preparation of, 91; for iodizing collodion, 58, 59. Iodide of cadmium, 92. Iodide of iron, preparation of, 93; its uses and acceleration, 159. Iodide of potassium and silver, preparation of, 61; use in sensitizing collodion, 58, 60. Iodide of potassium, properties and preparation of, 94. Iodide of silver, preparation and properties of, 112; its use in the nitrate bath, 65, 147. Iodine, preparation and properties of, 90. Iodized collodion, 58, 59, 60, 131. Iron, perchloride of, 98. " protonitrate of, 97. Jenny Lind stands, 32. Kaolin, properties of, 75. Lenses, double-convex, concavo-convex, double-concave, 19. Lenses, forms of, 19, 20; combination of, for portraits, 27; chromatic aberration of, 23; spherical aberration of, 22. Leveling stands, 35. Light, decomposition of, 16. Litmus, 98. Manipulations of the positive collodion process, 129; negative process, 143. Measures and Weights, 210. Milk, 99. Mounting positives on paper, 157. Negatives for printing positives, 151, 169. Nitrate of potash, 102. Nitrate of silver, 116. Nitrate of silver bath, mode of preparing for positives, 64; for negatives, 147; for negatives and positives in Helio's process, 164. Nitrate of silver used in developing negatives, 145. Nitric acid, preparation and properties of, 100; use in nitrate bath, 65, 147; use in making soluble cotton, 46. Nitro-sulphuric acid used in preparing soluble cotton, 42, 51. Oxide of silver, preparation of, 109. Oxygen, 109. Oxymel, preparation of, 105. Paper, sensitive, for printing, 152; alcohol used in, 201. Patent for the use of camphor in combination with iodized collodion, 176; for sealing photographic pictures, 177; for the use of alcohol as a desiccating agent, 178; for the use of bromide of potassium in collodion, 178; for the use of japanned surfaces for taking positives, 179; for photographic pictures in oil, 181; for making transparent borders, 183; coloring positives, 185, 187; for albumenized collodion, 186. Plate-Holders, Lewis's patent, solid glass corners for, 137. Plato vices, 64. Portrait lenses, combination of, 27. Positives, (ambrotypes,) process for producing, 129; by the Helio process, 164; printing on albumenized paper, 192, 206; ammonio-nitrate of silver used in, 152; use of chloride of gold in toning, 155; fixing, 155; fixing and brightening, (ambrotypes), Humphrey's collodion gilding used in, 63; printing frames for, 36; collodion for, 58, 59; mica used for, 136. Positives, enlarging from negatives, 199. Potash, 105; carbonate of, 106. Practice of the positive collodion process, 129; negative process. 143; Helio's positive and negative process, 164; printing on paper, 151. Prism, 14; refraction of light by, 14. Protosulphite of iron used in developing positives. 62; negatives, 144. Pyrogallic acid, preparation of, 107. Sensitizing paper, use of alcohol in, 201. Silver, properties of, 107; removal of stains from the nitrate of, 161; recovery of from waste solutions, 203. Solar spectrum, 14. Soluble cotton, 42; Hadow on, 46. Spherical aberration, 22. Spots upon positives, 139. Stains and lines upon positives, 139. Taupenot, M., his Collodio-albumen process, 190. Test-paper, use of, 205. Toning bath for positives on paper, 155. Weights and Measures, 210. * * * * * CORRECTIONS. [Transcriber Note: Corrections have been applied to text.] On Page 61 and 16th line from the top, for "Iodide of Silver," read _Iodide of Potassium_. On Page 167 and 2nd line, for "32 ounces," read 64 _ounces_. * * * * * Transcriber Note Minor typos may have been corrected. Images were moved so as to prevent splitting paragraphs. All images were derived from materials made available on The Internet Archive and are placed in the Public Domain. 
7356	----	[Illustration: "Say" Cried Frank, "That's a child's face up there!"] The Boy Scout Camera Club or The Confession of a Photograph By Scout Master G. Harvey Ralphson CHAPTER I LOST: A FOREIGN PRINCE! II THE HOLE IN THE ATTIC FLOOR III WHAT THE BOX CONTAINED IV A CAMP IN THE MOUNTAIN V JIMMIE AND TEDDY MISS A MEAL VI SIGNALS IN THE CANYON VII A MINT IN THE MOUNTAINS VIII UNCLE IKE PRESENTS HIMSELF IX A LANK MULE AS A DECOY X "PACKED AWAY LIKE SARDINES" XI JACK'S ELEGANT CHICKEN PIE XII THE BLACK HAND GAME XIII THREE DAYS TO MOVE IN XIV POINTING OUT THE TRAIL XV A NIGHT ON THE SUMMIT XVI THE CALL OF THE PACK XVII JUST A LITTLE DARK WASH XVIII BRADLEY BECOMES INDIGNANT XIX NED PLAYS THE MIND-READER XX SHOOTING ON THE MOUNTAINSIDE XXI TOLD BY THE PICTURES XXII A RECRUIT FROM THE ENEMY XXIII RACING MOTORS ON THE WAY XXIV THE MAN-TRAP IS SET XXV THE CONFESSION OF A PHOTOGRAPH The Boy Scout Camera Club or The Confession of a Photograph CHAPTER I LOST: A FOREIGN PRINCE! "Two Black Bears!" "Two Wolves!" "Three Eagles!" "Five Moose!" "Quite a mixture of wild creatures to be found in a splendid clubroom in the city of New York!" exclaimed Ned Nestor, a handsome, muscular boy of seventeen. "How many of these denizens of the forests are ready to join the Boy Scout Camera Club?" "You may put my name down twice--in red ink!" shouted Jimmie McGraw, of the Wolf Patrol. "I wouldn't miss it to be president of the United States!" "One Wolf," Ned said, writing the name down. "Two Wolves!" cried Jimmie, red-headed, freckled of face and as active as a red squirrel, "two wolves! You're a Wolf yourself, Ned Nestor!" "Two Wolves, then!" laughed Ned. "Of course Jimmie and I can form a club all by ourselves, and he can be the officers and I can be the members, but we'd rather have a menagerie of large size, as we are going into the mountains of Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina, Kentucky and Tennessee." The boys who had not yet spoken were on their feet in an instant, all clamoring for membership in the Boy Scout Camera Club. Ned lifted a hand for silence. "Why this present rush?" he asked. "I've been thinking that Jimmie and I would have to go to the mountains alone! Why this impetuosity?" "The mountains!" shouted Frank Shaw, of the Black Bear Patrol. "It is the mountains that get us! We've been thinking that the club you were organizing wouldn't get outside of little old New York, but would loaf around taking snap-shots of the slums and the trees in the parks. But when you mention mountains, why--" "I'm going right down stairs and pack my camera!" Jack Bosworth, of the Black Bear Patrol, declared. "When it comes to mountains!" The clubroom of the Black Bear Patrol was on the top floor of the handsome residence of Jack's father, who was a famous corporation lawyer, and the boys persuaded Jack to wait until they had completed the organization of the Camera Club before he started in packing for the journey to the mountains! "You'll want an Eagle, if you're going to the mountains!" shouted Teddy Green, of the Eagle Patrol. "I'll fly home and get my wardrobe right now!" Teddy Green was the son of a Harvard professor, and was inclined to follow in the footsteps of his father in the matter of learning--after he had first climbed to all the high spots of the world and descended into all the low ones! He insisted on exploring the earth before he learned by rote what others had written about it! "All right!" Ned grinned. "We'll need an Eagle!" "And a Bull Moose!" yelled Oliver Yentsch, of the Moose Patrol. "You've got to have a Moose along with you!" Oliver was the son of a ship builder, and had a launch and a yacht of his own. He was liked by all his associates in spite of his tendency to grumble at trifles. However, if he complained at small things, he met large troubles with a smile on his bright face. He now seized Teddy about the waist and waltzed around the room with him. "And that's all!" Ned decided, closing the book. "We can't take more than six." A wail went up from the others, but they were promised a chance at the next "hike" into the hills, and soon departed, leaving the six members of the Camera Club to perfect arrangements for their departure. It was a warm May night, still Ned closed the door leading out into the wide corridor which ran through the house on that floor. "We can't afford to take others into our plans," he said, "for this is to be another Secret Service expedition." "For the Government?" demanded Frank Shaw. "Then," he added, without waiting for a reply, "I'll call up dad's editorial rooms and have a reporter sent up here. Top of column, first page, illustrated! That's our Camera Club in the morning newspaper!" Frank's father was owner and editor of one of the big New York dailies, and the boy always took along, on his trips, plenty of blank paper for "copy," but never sent in a line! His letters to his father's newspaper were usually addressed to the financial department, upon which he had permission to draw at will! "Huh!" Jimmie commented, wrinkling his freckled nose, "if you should ever furnish an item for your daddy's newspaper he'd never live it down! You've been on all our trips with Ned, and never wired in a word!" The Boy Scouts of the Black Bear and Wolf Patrols had been through many exciting experiences with Ned Nestor, who, young as he was, was often in the employ of the Secret Service department of the United States government. Frank, as Jimmie said, had been with Ned from the start, and had never sent in a line of "copy" for the paper. "I'm going to furnish a column a day this trip!" Frank declared, making a motion to seize Jimmie. "We're going to take pictures, aren't we? We'll take 'em by the acre, and dad's newspaper is going to catch every one of them." "Huh!" Jimmie declared, with a freckled nose in the air. "I'm a newspaper man, too. You needn't think you're the only cherry in the pie! I used to sell newspapers before I got into the Secret Service with Ned!" From his earliest years Jimmie had indeed been a newsboy on the Bowery. He had never had a home except that provided by himself, and this, in the early days of his life, had as often been a box or barrel in an alley as anything else. "Why the mountains?" asked Frank Shaw, presently. "Do you have to go to the hills on this trip? I'm glad if you do, of course, but I'd like to know something about it before we start. Dad will have to be shown this time, I reckon! He thinks we rather _overdid_ the stunt when we went to Lady Franklin bay!" "Never had so much fun in my life!" laughed Jimmie. "When you get where it is forty below, there's some delight in living!" "What are we going to take pictures of?" demanded Teddy Green. "Moonshiners!" laughed Frank. "Isn't that right, Ned?" "Not exactly," was the answer. "This is not a whisky case at all." "Counterfeiters, then?" queried Oliver. "They live in the hills!" "No, not counterfeiters, either," Ned replied. "The government has plenty of men to look after counterfeiters and moonshiners. All we've got to do is to go into the mountains and take pictures, and keep our eyes open." "Open for what?" insisted Jimmie. "My peepers will be open for a venison steak about the first thing! You remember how fine the venison steaks were up in British Columbia? That Columbia river trip was some exciting! What?" "Well," Ned began, "you all know that I'm in the Secret Service, for you've been with me, some of you, at Panama, in China, and under the ocean, so we'll let the details go without explanation. I'm going to the mountains to look after a precious package stolen from Washington--from almost under the eyes of the president--three days ago!" "Papers?" asked Jimmie. "You know we went to Lady Franklin bay after papers." "And they think the mountaineers stole this package?" asked Oliver. "Tell us what it was that was taken first!" insisted Frank. "I'm beginning to see a front-page story in this, right now!" "The package stolen," Ned went on, with a smile, "was more precious than any bundle of papers could be! It wasn't of gold, silver, diamonds, or anything possessing that kind of value. It was of flesh and blood!" "A child stolen!" cried Frank. "This goes to dad's sheet right now!" "Boy or girl?" asked Oliver. "Age, please!" "Boy," answered Ned. "A boy belonging to one of the ambassadors! Age seven!" "But why should the mountaineers steal such a child?" asked Jimmie. "I said the boy belonged to one of the ambassadors," Ned corrected himself. "I should have said he belonged at one of the foreign embassies." "The son of one of the attaches?" asked Teddy. "That's strange! Why?" "Teddy," reproved Jimmie, "you can ask more questions in a minute than a motion picture machine can take in a hundred years." "The stolen boy is in no ways related to any one in this country," Ned answered, "yet his safety is of the utmost importance. It is up to us to find him." "But why should the mountain men make a grab at a kid?" insisted Jimmie. "I've asked that question numerous times now," he added, with a wrinkled nose. "It is not believed that the mountain men know anything about the matter," Ned replied. "No one suspects them of taking the child. Mountain men are not up to that sort of thing, as a rule. They will make moonshine--some of them will--and may hide a counterfeiter, but they don't steal children!" "Then who did steal him?" asked Frank. "Don't be so mysterious." "I want the matter to sink deep into your alleged minds!" was Ned's smiling rejoinder, "and that is the reason I'm drawing the explanation out. It is thought the boy was stolen by some one who came over the sea to do the job--some one never before in this country." "I twig!" Jimmie declared, skipping about the room. "The stolen boy is next of succession to some measly old throne! What? And he was sent out here to get him out of the zone of danger, and now he's been nipped?" The boys looked at Ned with redoubled interest. It had been interesting, the very idea of going into the mountains in quest of an abducted child, but the thought of going after a boy who would one day be a king! That was exciting indeed! "I can't tell you who the boy is." Ned went on, "but I can tell you that he must be found! The Secret Service men at Washington have a pretty good idea as to who got him, and they believe the criminals are not above committing the crime of murder. In a certain sense, this boy is in the way in the old country!" "Oh, they wouldn't kill a kid like that!" Jimmie asserted. "Wouldn't they?" demanded Teddy Green. "If you read up on history, you'll soon find out whether ambitious men will murder children who stand in their way! I half believe the boy was murdered at the very moment he was taken!" "He has been seen alive since that time," Ned responded. "This is Thursday. He was taken on Monday, and was seen yesterday. Or a boy believed to be the prince was seen yesterday, on a launch on the Potomac river." "Prince, eh?" cried Frank. "It is a prince, is it? Say, but won't dad be glad to hear about this? I'd like to write the headlines!" "We may as well call him the prince," Ned laughed. Before more could be said, a servant knocked at the door and Jack opened it so as to look out. In a moment he turned back inside with a flushed face. "Say, boys," he said, "there's something strange going on here to-night!" CHAPTER II THE HOLE IN THE ATTIC FLOOR Ned sprang to his feet in an instant and beckoned Jack to one side. The others gathered around, but Ned motioned them back. "Let us find out exactly what Jack means before any remarks are made," he said. "Well," Jack began, almost in a whisper, "the servant who came to the door said--" "Wait a moment!" Ned requested. "Let us get this at first hand. Is the servant you refer to still out in the corridor? Look and see." Jack opened the door an inch and looked out. "Yes," he reported, facing Ned, with the door still ajar, "he is still there." "Then ask him to come in here," Ned suggested, "and you, boys," he added, turning to the wondering faces at the other side of the apartment, "you get as close as you wish while this man is talking, but don't interrupt. It may be that we shall have to do something right soon. I reckon our hunt for the prince starts right here, in the Black Bear Patrol clubroom, in the heart of little old New York." The servant Jack had beckoned to now entered the room and stood with his back to the door, looking from one boyish face to another. He was a heavily built, muscular fellow, evidently an Irishman, judging from his face and manner. "Will you kindly come over here and sit down?" Ned asked. The servant complied and the others gathered around him. "Now," Jack began, "tell Ned what you just told me--about the man in the attic, and about the hole in the ceiling." Every eye in the room was instantly turned toward the lofty ceiling, but nothing out of the ordinary was to be seen there. "The hole he refers to," Jack, smiling, explained, "is not in sight. It is under the ornamental brass piece that circles the rod from which the chandelier hangs. It was made to listen at, and not to see through, I take it!" "That makes a good starter," Ned smiled, "so go on." "Half an hour ago," the servant began, "I was called to this floor by one of the maids, Mary Murphy it was, and she was that scared she looked like a bag of flour! She pointed to the staircase leading to the attic and asked me to go up there. "So I says to her: 'Why do you want me to go up there? If there's a haunt there, or a burglar, or a man after one of the girls, why should I risk the precious neck of me, when it's the only one I've got, with no prospect of ever getting another in case this one was damaged beyond repair?' So she says to me, she says--" "Never mind what she said," Ned interrupted, fearful of a long, involved dialogue between the two servants. "Tell me what you did." "I went up the staircase, three steps at a jump, an' bumped the head of me on the edge of the door at the top of it. You can see the dent in my coco now!" "And what did you find there?" asked Ned. "There was a rug on the floor and a hole in the floor, and a twinkle of light shining into the attic from this room. Some one had been listening there!" "You saw no one?" "Never a soul! I'm that sorry I can't express it!" "When were you in that attic before--the last time before to-night?" "Late yesterday afternoon it was." "Was there a rug in the middle of the floor at that time?" Ned went on. "No more than there is a bold lion in the middle of this floor, sir." "Well, what did you do after you got up there to-night?" "I hunted around for the man who had been lying there listening to the talk in this room, but I didn't find him, sir." "Did you ascertain where all the servants were at the time the listening must have been going on?" asked Jack, after a short pause. "All but one," was the reply. "And that one? Where is he now? That is, tell, if you know where he is?" "I don't know, sir. He has left the house, I reckon--bag and baggage." "Who was it?" demanded Jack, moving toward the door. "Chang Chu, the Chink, may the Evil One get into his bed!" "And then you came here and notified Jack?" asked Ned. "As soon as you learned that Chang Chu was not in the house?" "Indeed I did--within a minute and a half." "Where is this girl, Mary Murphy?" asked Ned, turning to Jack. "We must get hold of her right away. I want to hear her story of what she saw in the attic." Jack went out of the room, but was back in a minute with the girl, a pretty, modest maid of about eighteen. She looked frightened at finding herself the center of interest, but was soon in the midst of her story. "I went up to the attic to get a piece of cloth for a bandage, Sally having cut her hand with the bread knife. When I got to the door of that room I heard some one inside of it. I listened at the crack there is between the panel and the stile and heard footsteps, slow and soft like. I thought it was one of the maids, and opened the door quick, so as to give her a scare." The girl paused and wiped her face with a white apron bordered with pink. "Go on," Ned requested. "Tell us what you saw in the attic." "It wasn't much, sir," was the agitated answer. "I saw just a flash of dark blue, coming at me like the lightning express, and then I was keeled over--just as if I had been a bag of meal, sir!" "He bunted into you, did he?" asked Jack. "Who was it?" "Indeed I don't know, sir," was the reply. "It was dim in the room, there being only the light from the hall as I opened the door. Then he came at me with such a bunt that it took the breath out of me body!" "And what followed?" asked Ned. "She wint down f'r the count!" chuckled the servant who had been first questioned. "I did not!" was the indignant retort. "When I got up the man was still on the stairs leading to this floor, and I picked up the great shears which had tumbled out of me hand and heaved thim at him. I had brought the shears up to cut a bandage, sir." "Did you hit him?" asked Jack with a smile. "Where are the shears?" "I never went back after them!" answered the girl. "I'll go this minute." "Wait," Ned said, "and I'll get them. Now, you say you saw a blue streak coming at you, head-on! Who wears blue clothes around the house?" "Chang Chu, the Chink, sir." "You saw him dressed in blue to-day?" asked Ned. "All in blue he was!" the male servant interrupted, "with his shirt on the outside of his trousers, like the bloody heathen he is." "And so you looked for him and failed to find him on the premises?" asked Jack. "He's gone, bag and baggage," answered Terance, the coachman. "Bad luck to him!" "Still, you don't really know that it was the Chinaman?" asked Ned. "He was dressed like the Chink," was the reply. "He smelled like a saloon!" "Does the Chinaman drink?" asked Ned, facing Terance. "Does he get drunk?" "He does not," was the reply. "He doesn't know the taste of good liquor!" "That's all," Ned concluded. "Now you two keep on looking for the Chinaman. He may be hiding in the house, or he may be at some of the dens such people frequent. You, Mary, look for him in the house, and you, Terance, see if you can learn where he usually went when he left the house." "Pell street!" cried Jimmie. "Look in Pell street!" "Or Doyers!" Jack exclaimed. "Look in the dumps in Doyers street." The two went away, forgetting all about the shears which Mary had hurled at the mysterious man she had caught in the attic. Asking the boys to remain where they were, Ned went out to the staircase and secured the article. Taking it carefully by the handle, he returned to the room and held up one blade. Jack looked at the blade casually at first, then cried out that there was blood on it, and that Mary had speared the sneak. "Yes," Ned explained, "there is blood on it. Mary hit the fellow on the head with this blade. What else do you see on the steel?" he asked with a smile. Jimmie looked and backed away in disgust. His freckled face was thrust out of the door for an instant, and they heard him calling to Mary, who, being in the kitchen, beyond sound of his voice, did not respond. "What do you want of Mary?" demanded Jack. "Shall I call her?" "She said it was the Chink, didn't she?" the boy asked. "Or, she said it was a man dressed like the Chink? Well, it wasn't the Chink." Ned laughed and looked at the boy admiringly. "How do you know that?" he asked. "Why are you so sure it was not the Chink?" Jimmie looked up into Ned's face with a provoking grin. "You know just as well as I do that it wasn't the Chink," he said. "Just you look on that blade again! Ever see a Chink with light brown hair?" "Now, what do you think of that?" roared Jack. "Sometimes this boy, Jimmie, seems to me to be possessed of almost human intelligence!" The lads gathered closer around the shears, one blade of which Ned was still holding out for inspection. There was the blood, and there was the long, blonde hair! "Hit him on the belfry!" Jimmie grinned. "Knocked off a shingle and brought away a piece of it! Now, why did the Chink run away? That's what I'd like to know!" "Where did the man get the Chink's dress?" asked Oliver. "That's what you'd better be asking? Why did the Chink let him in and then loan him the dress?" "I rather think that's why the Chinaman ran away!" laughed Ned. "You boys seem to have reasoned it all out. He might have let the sneak in and then let him have some of his own clothes to wear! And that will make trouble for us!" "Do you think the fellow heard about the Camera Club trip, and the object of it?" asked Oliver. "If he was scared away half an hour ago he didn't learn much, for we hadn't begun to talk much about it at that time!" "He may not have heard anything important," Ned replied, "but the fact that he was sent here to listen is significant! Some one in Washington knows that we have been chosen to search the mountains for the prince! Some one knows that we are going out as an innocent-looking Boy Scout Camera Club, but really to find the boy. Now, what will that person do to the Camera Club, after we get out into the mountains?" "The question in my mind," Jimmie broke in, "is what we shall do to him!" "I'm sorry the information about our going leaked out," Ned said, gravely. "As boy snapshot friends we might have been able to do things which the Secret Service men could not do. No one would pay much attention to a group of boys roaming over the mountains. But now I'm afraid our investigations will be all in the limelight!" "Tell you what," Jimmie cut in, "suppose we find the Chink and make him point out the man who was in the house--listening?" CHAPTER III WHAT THE BOX CONTAINED "All right," Oliver encouraged. "Let's go out and make a throw at finding him, anyway! He may be in the garage, or the carriage house right this minute." Jimmie and Oliver rushed away to find Terance, the coachman, and undertake the search suggested, while Ned, Jack, Frank and Teddy sat at the open windows looking out on the street. "Chang Chu was at liberty to go into the attic at any time?" asked Ned, tentatively. "Oh, yes," Jack answered, "the other servants sent him about on errands. He is a handy man about the premises--or was, rather." "Is he a man to do such a thing as we are accusing him of?" Ned then asked. "I never thought so," was the puzzled reply. "I hope you don't think that he was beaten up by the man who secured his blue clothes! That would be tough on the fellow." "I have been thinking of that," Ned responded, "and while the boys are looking for the Chinaman in the outbuildings suppose we look for him in the upper part of the house." "But if the sneak could get into the upper part of the house without the use of the disguise," reasoned Jack, "he wouldn't need it at all, would he?" "He might have been surprised while at work by the Chinaman," Ned suggested. "In that case he might have taken the clothes as an afterthought. Suppose we look and see?" Leaving Frank and Teddy sitting by the window, looking out on a perfect May night, Ned and Jack climbed the staircase to the attic and entered the room directly over the Black Bear Patrol clubroom. It was a large room, more of a storeroom than an attic, with a hardwood floor and papered walls and ceiling. A great sack upon which clothing and odds and ends of all descriptions were hanging stood at the south end of the apartment, while a long row of boxes and packing trunks occupied the floor at the north end. The rug, which had been thrown down on the floor near the hole bored through a plank, was still there where the servants had seen it. The listener had, at least, a good notion of personal comfort! "Where was this rug taken from?" asked Ned. "It was on the rack the last time I saw it," Jack answered. "Was it clean at that time?" Ned continued, examining the rug with a glass. "What do you mean by clean? It was dusty, of course, like everything else here." "Were there any stains on it--stains like blood?" Ned went on, dragging the rug under the electric lights which had been switched on. "Why, of course not. It was originally in the little den off the library, but father became tired of it and told Terance to bring it here." "How long ago was that?" "Oh, a month or two. I can't be exact as to the date, you know." Ned handed his chum the glass and indicated a certain portion of the rug. "What do you call that?" he asked. "What does it look like?" "It looks like a spot of blood," Jack declared. "And it is wet, too! What do you make of this, Ned? Was Chang Chu attacked and killed by that sneak thief?" "That is for us to find out," Ned answered. "At the present moment, it looks as if Chang Chu wouldn't be found on Pell or Doyers street. What is there is those boxes--the large ones sitting against the wall?" "About everything, I take it. I never looked into them. Why?" "We may as well see what they contain," Ned replied, advancing to the largest box and throwing up the cover. "What do you think now?" he asked, as a huddled figure stirred in the box and opened a pair of suffering eyes. "This is the Chink, I suppose?" Before Jack could reply, Ned had the man out of the box, with the cords cut from his hands and feet, the cruel gag removed from his mouth. His blue blouse was gone! Chang Chu tumbled over on the floor when Ned tried to stand him on his feet. There was a small cut on his head. "Chang velly much bum!" he said, with his hands on his stomach. "Chang never forgets a word of slang," Jack laughed. "He will remember the slang word for anything when he forgets the real word! What did they do to you, Chang?" he continued, addressing the Chinaman. Chang pressed his hands to his nose significantly and dropped his head back. "Chloroform!" Ned declared, sniffing at the contents of the box. The Chinaman could not describe the man who had attacked him. He had been alone in the attic, putting away old clothes, when he had been struck and seized from behind by a man he described as a giant for strength, stripped of his blouse, and lifted bodily into the box. There he had been bound, gagged and rendered unconscious by the use of the drug. "The man who did it," mused Ned, "is an adept at crime, resourceful, daring. The chloroform would have attracted the attention of the servants at once if it had been administered in the open air. Then his taking the Chink's blouse as a disguise shows that he is quick to take advantage of his opportunities. A clever man." "And he left no clue!" Jack complained. "Just our luck, Ned!" "All we know is that he is tall, has light brown hair, and is very strong," Ned replied. "But there are ten thousand people in New York this minute who answer to that description." "How do you know he is tall?" demanded Jack. "When he lay on the rug," Ned explained, "he stretched out on his stomach to look through the hole, if he could. He couldn't; he could only listen, for the cut was made so as to be hidden by the ornamental brass piece that circles the rod from which the chandelier swings. The marks of his elbows and toes were on the soft fiber of the rug, showing him to be a man at least six feet tall." Ned walked over to the large box again and bent over it. "Crumbs!" he exclaimed, in a second. "Crumbs!" "Then he must have brought a lunch up with him," Jack exclaimed excitedly. "There is no knowing how long he was here!" "Some one in Washington has leaked!" Ned declared, angrily. "Why Washington?" demanded Jack. "Why not New York?" "Because no one in this city knows about our being engaged to hunt down the abductor. My instructions have all come in cypher, and some of them have, as you know, been addressed to this house. And there you are!" Chang Chu arose limply, rubbing a small wound in his head from which blood had come, and tottered off toward the staircase. As he did so, Ned noticed that his pigtail was very black, very long, and very greasy. "Did he take you by the cue?" asked the boy. "Did he pull your hair?" "Velly much lough-neck pull--dam!" answered the Chinaman. Ned went back to the box where the Chink had been hidden and began taking out the articles it held, slowly and one by one. "The cloth he poured the chloroform on must be here," he said. "He would naturally throw it into the box before shutting down the cover, as there might still be enough of the drug in it to put the Chink to sleep." "Here it is," Jack said, reaching into the box and lifting out a rag and smelling of it. "Here is the dope cloth, all right and pretty strong yet." "That's it, all right," Ned answered. "A worn white handkerchief, eh?" "Name or mark on it?" asked Jack, passing the cloth to Ned. "Nothing of the sort," was the answer, "but there's something better. When the fellow pulled at the Chink's greasy pigtail he got his hand smeared with oil. Then he grasped this white cloth fiercely, and there you are! See! The mark of the thumb couldn't be plainer if it had been printed on. Observe the long cicatrice on the ball of the thumb? I'll take this down and photograph it." "Tall, strong, blonde, scar on the thumb!" laughed Jack. "We are getting on." "It would be interesting to know how he got into the house," Ned mused. "If we could only catch him and shut his mouth," Jack muttered, "we wouldn't have such a rotten bad time in the mountains." "It is not what he knows," Ned suggested. "It is what his master as Washington knows. We might put this chap under ten feet of earth, but the opposition from Washington would go right on." "When was the child abducted?" asked Jack. "When and how?" "He was taken from in front of the embassy early in the morning. The ambassador brought him out for a spin in his automobile and left him out in front a moment. When he went back to continue his morning ride the automobile and the boy were nowhere to be seen! This was before nine o'clock Monday morning. Yesterday, along about noon, the boy--or a lad very much resembling him--was seen by a lieutenant of infantry in a motor boat, speeding up the Potomac." "Why didn't he catch him, then?" asked Jack. "Because he did not know at that time that the prince had been kidnapped. The authorities kept everything quiet! I presume they thought the thief didn't know that he had committed a crime, and were afraid the newspapers would tell him about it!" "Tell that to Frank!" laughed Jack. "He'll go up in the air!" The boys found Jimmie and Oliver in the club-room when they went down. The garage and carriage house had been searched--in vain, of course, for the boys had encountered the Chinaman on his way down to the basement as they ascended the stairs, the elevator being closed for the night. "I believe that Chink had something to do with it, all the same," declared Jimmie. "He ought to be watched every minute of the time!" "Now, here's another point I don't understand," Jack said, going back to the conversation he had had with Ned in the attic. "Why do the authorities think the boy has been taken to the mountains?" "Because that would be a natural place for the thieves to hide," Ned answered. "The mountains are easily within reach of Washington, and they are virtually inaccessible to known officers of the law--at least so it is reported. The mountains run from central Pennsylvania to central Alabama, a distance of about a thousand miles, and afford many desirable hiding places." "Yes, and we're likely to get our crusts split down there!" Teddy grinned. "We will if they find out that we belong to the Secret Service!" "The Potomac river rises in West Virginia," continued Ned, "and the prince may have been taken to the foothills in the launch he was seen in." "Are we going in a motor boat?" asked Jimmie. "We are going by rail as far as we can go," Ned answered, "and then take shank's horses for the wild country, with mules to tote the baggage. In the eastern part of West Virginia, we are likely to travel forty miles without seeing a cabin." "Where do we get our eatings?" demanded Jimmie. "It makes me hungry to climb mountains. We'll have to have a relief expedition sent after us if we don't get plenty of eatings," he added, with a wink at Teddy. "Plenty of game up there," Ned grinned. "Plenty of deer, turkeys, coon, rabbits, birds and bears! We can dodge the game laws! Also a few wildcats are reported to have been seen there. And there is said to be plenty of moonshine in the caves, too. Oh, we'll have a sweet old vacation, boys. And we start tomorrow!" CHAPTER IV A CAMP IN THE MOUNTAINS It was early June, and the members of the Boy Scout Camera Club were camped on a mountain top in West Virginia. They had spent about two weeks in making the trip to the point where they had established camp. Three mules, divested of their burdens now, were "staked out" in a little corral fragrant with grass down near the timber line. The tent they had carried was a short distance below the summit, on the eastern slope, with packages and bags and boxes of provisions piled around it. To the south lay Virginia, to the north, east and west stretched the mountainous district of West Virginia. Far below them ran the North Fork of the Potomac river. What they saw was a wild and lonely country, with more deer, wild turkeys, and raccoons than human beings. On their hard and frequently delayed journey in they had passed cabins, surrounded here and there by rail fences, but there were none in sight from where they now stood. The sun, a round ball of fire in the west, would be out of sight in half an hour, and then the desolate darkness of the mountains would surround them. A wild turkey called to its mate in the distance, and small creatures of the air fluttered about, as if determined to know what human beings were doing there, in their ordinarily safe retreat. The boys had visited Washington the day following the incidents at the clubroom of the Black Bear Patrol, but had learned nothing of importance there. The launch in which the young prince had been seen had been traced up the river to the vicinity of Cumberland, but there the trail had ended. "It is a case of needle-in-the-haystack," the Secret Service chief had said to Ned, on the morning of his departure for the mountains. "We have men looking over every inch of the large cities. We want you to rake those mountains with a fine-tooth comb! Personally, I believe that the prince is there." "But," Ned had replied, "how are we to communicate with you in case we require more definite instructions?" "You know what Sherman did when he left Atlanta?" laughed the chief. "Why, he cut the wires," returned Ned, "so as not to have his movements hampered by orders from men who, not being on the ground, could not possibly know as much as he did of what ought to be done." "That is what I want you to do!" the chief continued. "Cut the wires." "But that is assuming a great responsibility," urged the boy. "Very true, but I have an idea that you want to work in your own way, so go to it. A mess of lively boys running up and down the mountain sides looking for game and snap-shots ought not to arouse the suspicion of the thieves if they are there. Make friends with the mountain people if you can. They are naturally suspicious, but good as gold at heart." That was his last talk with the chief. After that supplies had been bought and transported by rail to the nearest point, and there the mules had been bought and the difficult journey begun. They had just made their first permanent camp. "I wouldn't mind living here a few years!" Teddy said. "It beats the hot old city! If I had plenty of reading matter and a full larder, I don't think I would ever go back. I wish Dad could step out of that Harvard thing and eat supper with us!" The shrill scream of a mule now came up from the feeding ground below, and a commotion at the tent showed that one of the animals was kicking up a row there. "That's that long-eared Uncle Ike," Jimmie McGraw exclaimed. "I feel in my bones that I'm going to love that mule! He's so worthless! If he had two legs less he'd beat Jesse James to the tall timber in piracy! He won't work if you don't watch him, and he'll steal everything he gets his eyes on! Yes, sir, I feel that there's a common sympathy between that mule and me, yet I know that we'll have a falling out some day! He's so open and above-board in his mischief." "Can you see what he's doing now?" asked Teddy. "Why, I saw him knocking at the door of the tent, and I presume that by this time he is sitting in my chair picking his teeth, after devouring the bread! That sure is some highwayman, that mule, yet I feel that I'm going to love and admonish him!" The boys dashed down the slope to the tent and found Uncle Ike, as Jimmie insisted on calling a tall, ungainly, raw-boned mule, chewing at a slice of ham which he had pilfered from a box by the side of the fire. "There's one thing about Uncle Ike," Jimmie grinned, as Ned drove the animal away with a club. "He always looks like he had been sent for to lead an experience meeting! He'll put on a face as long as a cable to a freight train, and then he'll turn to me and wink one eye, as if explaining that it was all for a joke." "That's your ham he's chewing, Jimmie!" Ned declared. "I suppose so," the boy replied. "That's what you get by being brother to a long-eared mule that for cussedness has Becker's gunmen backed up a creek with the oars lost!" While the mule was being restored to his companions, Jimmie and Teddy began getting supper. They had plenty of tinned goods, plenty of flour, potatoes, meal and ham and bacon. Still, they thought they ought to have something in the way of game. "I saw a wild turkey back there," Teddy volunteered. "And I saw a coon," Jimmie added. "Is there any law on turkeys and coons?" asked Jack, who was trying to make the fire burn bright with lengths of green wood. "There ain't no law of any kind up here," Frank insisted. "Then we'll go and get a coon," Jimmie declared. "You boys get a red-hot fire and I'll have the bird here before Ned gets that mule tied up!" "Guess I'll go along," Teddy suggested. "I never did like to have anyone else go to the trouble of getting my wild meat for me! I'll go along, and Frank and Ned and Oliver can get supper." Without waiting for any affirmative replies from their companions, the two lads darted away, and were soon lost in a canyon which ran at right angles with the ridge much farther down. Frank and Oliver began piling dry wood on the fire. "Those boys will be back here in time for breakfast--just about!" Frank commented, as the coffee water boiled and the bacon began sizzling in the pan. "If they get any supper here they'll have to cook it!" Presently Ned came back from the little valley where the mules were feeding and took a field glass from the tent. "What's up now?" Teddy asked, as Ned walked back to the ridge and looked down into the valley of the North Fork. "Ned must be seeing, things!" Ned remained oh the summit a long time, until the sun sank behind the range to the west and the valleys became ribbons of black between the lighter crests of the mountains. Presently Frank scrambled up the yards of rugged, rock-strewn slope which led to the summit where Ned was standing, still with his field glass in his hand. "Anything in sight over that way?" the boy asked, as he came to Ned's side. "There is a column of smoke in the valley," Ned answered. "I thought at first that there were two, but I may have been mistaken. Do you remember what two columns of smoke would have indicated?" "Of course!" laughed Frank. "If I should become lost in woods or mountains, or anywhere, I'd build two fires and get wet wood to make smudge, good and plenty. That would mean that I was lost and needed assistance. That's the Boy Scout Indian signal for help. I remember when we saw it north of the Arctic Circle, don't you?" "I won't be apt to forget it right away," was the reply. The boys remained standing on the summit for some moments, although it was now too dark for them to distinguish objects in the valley below. All around the June night called to them with its silences and its sharp and sudden rasp of sounds. There were the mountains, brooding, heavy, mysterious, and there were the fleets of flying clouds reaching down to wrap their summits! "It is simply great up here!" Ned exclaimed presently. "That is the only word that seems to express it--great!" "Yes, it is fine for a change," Frank admitted, "though I don't believe in the wilds as a permanent thing! Everything in the mountains and forests seems to me to be crude and half done. This, I presume, is because the world isn't finished yet. Those who come to places like this catch the Creator with his sleeves rolled up, if that isn't a coarse way of saying it." "I like it, just the same!" Ned declared. "It is glorious! It is life!" "It is healthful so far as animal life goes," laughed Frank, "but what about mental life? There would never have been anything wonderful in the way of inventions--like the wireless, and the telephone, and the uses of electricity--if mankind had been content to live and die in the wilds! It is crude, as I said before, unfinished, out of line with all the decrees of art. I'll take the city for mine, with its marble buildings, its wonderful art galleries, its beautiful parks!" "Say, you mooners!" came a voice from the camp below, "if you've got done surveying the beautiful black landscape, suppose you come down to supper?" The boys went down to the tent to find Jimmie and Teddy still absent. "There are two things we'll have to set aside time for," Ned declared, as he took a seat on the ground before the blaze, with a great plate of food in his lap. "We'll have to arrange for keeping Uncle Ike, the mule, out of mischief, and for keeping track of Jimmie and Teddy. Those boys will get lost in the mountains yet, and go hungry for a few days. That would be punishment enough for Jimmie--hunger!" The boys sat by the campfire a long time, heaping dry wood on the blaze until they were obliged to widen the circle about it. There was only the light of the stars, looking down from a cloud-flecked sky, but there would be a moon shortly after ten o'clock. "If the boys don't return before long," Frank broke out, after a moment of silence, "I'm going to take a searchlight and go out looking for them." The boy expressed the thought which was brooding in the minds of them all. They were more than anxious for the safety of the two truants. Oliver arose and walked away from the fire up the slope, until his figure was out of sight, but shortly came back and sat down again, his face expressing impatience as well as anxiety. "There's no reason why they shouldn't see this fire," he said. "I walked over the summit a bit to see if the light was reflected over there. It is. If anywhere within two miles, they ought to see this blaze or the glow from it. They're just doing this to make us worry. I'd like to get them by the neck, this minute," he added. Uncle Ike, the mule, gave vent to a vicious scream at that moment, and Ned arose and started in the direction of the feeding ground. When he reached the spot he saw that the mules were agitated, weaving about on the tying lines in either fear or anger. "Uncle Ike," Ned said, patting the ugly beast on the neck, "what is it about your sleeping chamber that you don't like? Or it is your supper you object to?" Uncle Ike thrust his long ears forward and elevated his heels, as if kicking at some imaginary object back of him. Then Ned saw a figure moving in the darkness. "Come out of that!" he called. "Why are you sneaking around here?" The figure advanced toward the boy then--the figure of an old woman! CHAPTER V JIMMIE AND TEDDY MISS A MEAL "I was scared to come up until I heard your voice," the old lady said, as she came close to Ned. "I didn't know you were only a boy." The woman appeared to be very old. Her hair was white and her lean face was wrinkled and leathery with time and storm and exposure to the winds of the hills. Still, old as she seemed to be, she walked alertly, with the swinging grace of the true mountain woman. She was very plainly dressed in a one-piece gown of dark calico. Her head was not covered at all, and the white hair took on a tinge of gold from the distant campfire. Her black eyes were sharp, yet kindly in expression. "Good evening, mother," Ned said, removing his cap as he greeted the old lady, "we didn't expect to meet ladies here. Do you live in this locality?" "Quite a step," the old lady said, in a gentle, hesitating tone, "quite a bit down the slope is where I live. I wanted to know what the fire meant, and so I came up. You don't mind my being here, do you?" "Glad to have you come!" Ned responded, truthfully. "If you care to come up to our camp we'll be glad to give you a cup of tea and whatever else you want." "I'll be glad to get a cup of tea," the woman declared. "We don't get tea up here in the mountains--not very often. We don't have the money to pay for it, and, then it is such a long way to go after it. Yes, I'll go with you." Ned noted that the woman did not speak the dialect of the mountains. He wondered how long she had lived there, and if she lived alone. She did not long leave him in doubt on these points, for she seemed anxious to talk. "I'm Mary Brady," she said, as they ascended the slope toward the fire. "I came here years ago with my husband, Michael Brady, to live in peace. Mike was a good man when he was himself, but the saloon men of New York were always after him when he had any money. We came here to be rid of them." "That was the correct thing to do, it strikes me," Ned said, for want of something better, as she seemed to expect some friendly comment. "I don't know," she went on. "We meant it for the best--but there was the moonshine! I didn't know about the moonshine when we came here. All I thought of was to get away from Houston street! He fell one day and they brought him home dead." Ned was strangely interested in this simple life history. The poor old woman living there, probably alone and in want, after such an ending to a hopeful plan! "And you kept on here?" he asked. "Why didn't you go back to the city?" "There was the boy," she answered. "He was ten when we came here. I didn't want him to get the thirst! After Mike died I lived here to keep him in the good path. He is a good boy, but when he was twenty they got him, too--the moonshiners!" "And he left you?" asked Ned. "He said he couldn't make anything of himself here, so he went to Washington. He's never come back, though I've always kept a home for him, and never ceased to look for him. He writes me now and then that he's coming home, but he doesn't come! When I saw your fire I thought he might be with you." By this time they were at the camp, and Mary Brady was presented to the boys and made comfortable by the fire, with tea and canned fruit before her. She enjoyed the lunch immensely and looked the gratitude she did not speak. "When did you hear from your boy last?" asked Frank, by way of keeping the conversation going. "Did he write from Washington? Was it to Washington you said he went?" "It was Washington," was the reply. "He wrote me a month or more ago that he would be here with friends in June. I thought he might be with you. He has been married since he left home, and has a child, though his wife is dead." "And he said he was thinking of bringing the child here?" asked Ned, glancing significantly at Frank. "Did he say that in his last letter?" "Yes, that he was thinking of bringing the boy here. It is only a mite of a boy--not more than seven years old, he said. I'm anxious for him to come." Jack and Oliver gathered closer about the old lady in order to hear every word that was spoken. One brought her more tea and the other filled the sauce dish with peaches. Ned motioned to them to remain silent. "And so you expect him to drop down on you any time?" Ned asked. "Yes, my son and the boy. He's a cute little chap, Mike says. Mike was named for his father, and the lad's name is Mike, too. I'm anxious for him to get here. And I'm wondering whether he's light and blonde, with brown hair and blue eyes like his father, or dark, like my side of the family. "What do you make of it?" Jack whispered to Oliver. "What do I make of what?" demanded the other. "Of the old lady and her three Mikes?" replied Jack, scornfully. "Have you been asleep all this time?" "I was waiting for you to express an opinion," Oliver declared. "Do you think it possible that they would change the name of a prince of the royal blood to Mike?" "So you've caught on, at last!" whispered Jack. "Do you really think we've tumbled on a streak of luck at the send-off?" "I don't know," was the hesitating reply. "We'll have to cultivate this old lady." "Sure thing!" "Did she say where her cottage is?" asked Oliver, directly. "We ought to verify her story, it seems to me. I'd like to hear Ned's opinion!" "Do you remember what she said about Mike II. having blonde hair and blue eyes?" asked Jack, presently. "Sure!" was the answer. "That made me sit up and take notice. It brought back to my memory the light brown hair on the bloody blade of the shears." "Same here," announced Jack. "If this Mike II. comes here we'll have to find out if he has a cicatrice on the right thumb and a scar on the head, a scar which might have been brought about by a pair of shears thrown by a frightened maid in the city of New York!" "Think of a crown prince being called Mike!" chuckled Oliver. "Ned didn't say it was a crown prince!" "He might just as well have said it! He didn't dispute me when I asked if it was a crown prince who had been abducted." "If Jimmie and Teddy don't return soon," Jack said, changing the subject, "we'll have to start the Boy Scout Camera Club out looking for them." "They'll be back when they get hungry!" laughed the other. But Jimmie and Teddy were still away when the moon rose over the ridge to the east. Mrs. Brady was still by the campfire. She appeared to delight in the companionship of the boys. Having lived alone for years, she would have been delighted at any companionship whatever, but the boys were full of life and vitality, they were sympathetic, and, besides, they were from her old home--New York! As the moon showed her round face over the summit of the range to the east she arose and stretched out a withered hand to Ned. "I'm going," she said. "I've had a pleasant evening. You don't know how much it has been to me to sit here and talk with you! If you'll come down to my cabin some day I'll try to make it pleasant for you!" "Some day," laughed Ned. "What do you say to my going right now? Of course I've got to see you home! Couldn't think of letting you go away alone." "I've walked these mountains night and day for more than twenty years," faltered the old lady, "and I'm not afraid now!" "You don't object to my going?" asked Ned. "I'm awful glad to have you go," was the reply. "But you'll find it a long walk, there and back," she added. "If it is too far for me to walk back," Ned laughed, "you may give me a bunk on the floor! Anyway, I'm going to see you home!" As the boy spoke he beckoned to Frank to step to one side with him. "Of course this looks all straight, on the face of it," he said, when the two were alone together, "but one can never tell. We've got to be pretty careful, for we are in a strange country, and are here for a purpose which may be resented by the mountaineers. We can't afford to take any chances." "Do you suspect the old lady?" asked Frank, in amazement. "I don't know what to think," was the hesitating reply. "The first night we spend in a permanent camp, up she comes with a story about a son being about to bring in a boy of seven for her to mother! Then, as if that wasn't enough of a bait for us to snap at, she goes on to say that the son is blonde, with light brown hair and blue eyes. Looks like we were being led on!" "You bet it does," Frank replied. "Jimmie and Teddy have disappeared, and this may be a frame-up, and so I wouldn't go off alone with her. And, look here," Frank went on, "do you believe Uncle Ike would have kicked, and screamed, and made a row generally, if only this old lady had approached him? Do you, now?" "She might have frightened him," Ned replied, "for he may not be used to women. Still, she may have had some one with her! I was thinking that Uncle Ike sounded a warning on slight cause," he added. "Well, if I were you, I wouldn't go away alone with her," advised Frank. "Let me go with you if you insist on going." "Of course I've got to go now," Ned went on. "I've promised her, and she is expecting me to go. But I'll tell you what you may do. You can wait until I have gone some distance and then follow on behind, not so as to be seen by any other person trailing us, but still close enough to be available in case of trouble." "All right," Frank agreed. "I'll keep back far enough to see any one who might be following the two of you! I wish Jimmie was here! He'd be just the one to go with me. And there's always something doing when Jimmie is around!" "I'm worried about those boys!" Ned answered. "I'm going to keep a sharp lookout for them, all the way to the cabin." "There's something wrong," Frank hastened to say. "They never would have remained away from camp like this. And without supper, too! Jimmie is particular to be on hand when it comes to eating time. There! There's Uncle Ike talking in his sleep! I wonder what's eating him now? Shall I go and see?" "No," Ned said, hastily, seizing Frank by the arm. "Don't even look in that direction. Watch Mrs. Mary Brady!" The old woman's face was turned toward the spot where the mules were staked out, her figure was straight, tense, alert. She appeared to be listening and watching for some agreed-upon signal from the corral. Ned moved over toward her cautiously. Once the old woman moved, involuntarily, toward the mules, but she drew back in a moment and stood, waiting, with her eyes on the boys, now in a little group not far from the spot where she stood. CHAPTER VI SIGNALS IN THE CANYON Jimmie and Teddy passed over the summit to the west of the camp and took their way down a difficult incline toward the headwaters of the Greenbrier river. They traveled some distance, walking, sliding, creeping, before they came in sight of a copse which appeared to be worth looking over for wild game. "I don't know about this wild turkey business," Teddy said, as the boys stood on an elevation lifting above the patch of timber. "If I've got it right, wild turkeys are precious birds in West Virginia." "I never once thought of that!" Jimmie exclaimed. "Why, we won't have any fun hunting at all! I wonder if there is a closed season for coons?" Teddy took out a memorandum book and turned to an insert pasted on the inside of the cover. Dropping to the ground, so as not to attract the attention of any natives who might be near by, he read the slip by the aid of his electric searchlight. "Open season for wild turkeys in West Virginia from October fifteen to December one," he read. "Now, what do you know about that? Rotten, eh?" "I guess we can get one to eat, all right," grumbled Jimmie. "Who's going to know anything about it if we do, I'd like to know? Away off here in the mountains!" "I presume there are constables and justices up here who would be glad to soak us for fifty or a hundred apiece!" Teddy grinned. "I reckon we'd better eat hens, and coon, and fresh fish--if we can get them! And deer! We get no venison steaks!" "Not this season!" Jimmie grunted. "They'd take great joy, as you say, in getting us into jail and extracting all our vacation money! I'm going to take photographs of the West Virginia game laws. A man is about the only creature one can shoot down here during the summer and get away with it! I'll have Frank put that idea in his dad's newspaper!" "We've got enough to eat, anyway," laughed Teddy. "The question before the house right now is how are we going to get down into that patch of trees?" "The laws of gravity will take us down!" answered Jimmie. "Just step off this ledge and see if I'm not right. What do we want to go down there for, anyway, if we can't shoot a wild turkey after we get there? I'm going back to camp." The night was falling fast, and stars were showing between masses of clouds. The boys had traveled farther from the camp than they had intended, and the return journey was all up hill. They surveyed the prospect gloomily. "I could eat the top off one of the mountains!" Jimmie declared, as they turned to make the climb. "I never was so hungry in my life. Wish we were back in camp!" Teddy, who had turned to look down into the valley, now caught Jimmie by the arm and pointed downward, where a low-lying ridge jutted out of the general slope and made a small canyon between itself and the body of the mountains, a canyon in which a trinkle of water showed. "Do you see that column of smoke?" he asked, as Jimmie turned. "There must be a camp there," Jimmie exclaimed. "I thought we would be all alone up here for a time--until we got a line on the men who stole the prince." "Wait a minute!" Teddy answered. "There! Now do you see two columns of smoke?" The two columns lifted skyward for only a second, then died down. "That's the Boy Scout signal for help!" Jimmie commented. "I wonder what shut it off so quickly? It would be strange if we found Boy Scouts here in the mountains--eh?" "According to all reports," Teddy answered, "you boys found Scouts in all parts of the world, even in China and the Philippines! If it is a Scout making that Indian sign for help, he'll get the smoke going again before long. There they are!" The two columns of smoke were in the air again, ascending from the canyon between the mountainside and the outcropping ridge. Directly a gleam of fire was seen. "That's the call for help, all right!" Jimmie cried. "What shall we do about it?" "We ought to go right there. The boy may have been injured in a fall, and may be starving! We ought to get there as soon as possible." "Without going back to camp to tell the boys?" asked Jimmie. "We have been gone a long time now, remember. They will be worrying about us pretty soon." "But we ought to go right now!" insisted Teddy. "The boy may be in trouble." "Something else coming!" cried Jimmie, then. "See that blazing stick working overtime? He's going to talk in the Myer code! Now count right and left." "There's one to the right!" Teddy said. "I've lost track of the code already." "No. 1 motion is to the right," Jimmie quoted from the wig-wag lesson he had learned on first becoming a Boy Scout. "It should embrace an arc of ninety degrees, starting at the vertical and returning to it without pause, and should be made in a plane exactly at right angles to the line connecting the two stations. "And No. 2 motion is the same, only on the left side. And three is the same, only the signal goes to the ground and comes back to the vertical! Now I've got it! Then he wig-wags again I'll tell you what he says. You read, too, and see if we agree." "One to the right!" cried Jimmie, "and two to the left!" "That means H," Teddy translated. "What comes next?" "No. 1 and then No. 2," replied Jimmie. "That's plain enough!" "It stands for E," Teddy went on, "and I know what the next letter will be, too." "No. 2, No. 2, No, 1! I knew it! That is L. The other will be P!" "No. 1, No. 2, No. 1, No. 2!" read Teddy, following the flight of the blazing stick as it moved through the darkness. "That's L, and the word is HELP!" "And here we go to see about it!" Jimmie decided, moving down the slope. "The boy can't be very far off. I'd like to know how a Boy Scout got lost out here." "We may become lost ourselves," laughed Teddy, "if we don't look out where we are going. I wouldn't know where to head for if I wanted to go back to camp right now." "All we would have to do would be to climb the mountain," Jimmie declared. "There's more than one summit," persisted Teddy. "We'd better get a line on something to guide ourselves by when we go back." "We came straight west," the other said, "and if we get lost the moon will tell us which way to go--if it doesn't rise in the west down here!" The wig-wag code below was still in evidence, always repeating the same word, "Help." The boys hesitated no longer, but went rattling down the slope at a speed which spoke well for their balancing powers! As they entered the little canyon from the north, Jimmie halted and settled back on a rock, his hand on Teddy's shoulder. "Do you suppose he heard us coming down the slope?" he asked. "He must have been deaf if he didn't," was the reply. "We brought about half the mountain down with us, it seemed to me. Of course he heard us." "Well, we ought to have been more cautious," Jimmie declared. "I guess we aren't likely to frighten him away," suggested Teddy. "But this may be a frame-up," warned the other. "Look here! The people who sent that spy to Jack's house knew the Boy Scouts were going out to look for the prince, didn't they? We have never seen or heard anything of them since that night, but there is good reasons for believing that they have had us under surveillance." "And you think this may be a trap for us?" asked Teddy. "It may be," was the reply. "If they wanted to trap us, they would go about it in just about this way, if they were wise, wouldn't they? Sure they would." "Then we'd better sneak up to that campfire and find out what is going on before we show ourselves," suggested Teddy. "We ought to have come down here as softly as two flakes of snow? What? We'll know better then to make so much noise next time!" "There may be no next time," Jimmie advised, as they moved down the canyon, in the middle of which ran a small stream of water, a rivulet connecting with the Greenbrier river farther to the south and west. It was now quite dark, and they were obliged to feel every step of their way, for there were numerous crevices in the floor of the canyon. Pressing on, slowly, cautiously, their weapons within easy reach, the boys finally turned a little angle of rock and came within sight of a camp-fire not far away. "There!" Jimmie whispered. "I had a notion that we should find more than one here. Why did the Scout wig-wag for help when there were three husky men with him?" Teddy opened his eyes wider, but attempted no solution of the puzzle. "There's a little chap sitting alone by the fire," Jimmie went on, peering through his field-glass, "and there are three men gathered in a huddle on the other side of the fire. They all look like they were listening for something." "I don't wonder--the way we came down the slope!" The other grinned. While the boys watched one of the men strode over to where the boy was sitting and, evidently, began questioning him. The watchers were too far away to hear any conversation between the two. Presently the boy sprang up and started to run. In a moment the heavy hand of the man was on his shoulder and he was dragged back to the fire and dumped down like a sack of grain. He lay quite still for a moment. "I'd like to know what that means!" Teddy whispered. "That's brutal!" "That gives me faith in the boy!" exclaimed Jimmie. "What's the answer to that?" demanded Teddy. "They probably saw him doing the wig-wag!" was Jimmie's reply. "They're threatening him." "And they may have been beating him up for doing it? That may be." "And, again," the other continued, "that may be a little rehearsal all for our benefit! There are men in the world sharp enough to put up just that kind of a bluff." "That's very true," was the reply. "We've got to lie here until we know what it all means. We can't go away and leave the little fellow without knowing more about the signals. Those men may be moonshiners. We might get a reward!" "We'll be lucky if we don't get into jail!" Jimmie grunted. "If we don't, we'll get into an infirmary for the hungry! If I have to lie on this rock much longer with nothing to eat I'll have to be carried back on a stretcher!" "You always were the brave little man with the knife and fork!" grinned Teddy. The four figures by the fire remained in the old order for a long time, the men grouped together, the boy alone on the side of the blaze next to the watchers. "I wish I could get up to him?" Teddy said, as if requesting advice on the question of a nearer approach to the boy. "I'd like to see if it is the prince!" "The prince isn't a Boy Scout!" declared Jimmie. "Besides, this boy is too old to be the prince! The prince is only seven years old--just a little baby." "Anyway, I'm going to make a sneak up there," insisted Teddy. Before Jimmie could stop him he was away, crawling on hands and knees through the heavy shadows of the cliffs which lay about the camp-fire. Jimmie watched him anxiously for a moment and then started to follow him. The two were not far away from the lad, and were thinking of doing something to attract his attention when a stone rolled into a crevice with a great bumping sound. The boys dropped down on their faces and waited, their hearts beating like trip-hammers as the men around the fire sprang to their feet. "What was that?" demanded a hoarse voice. "Who is out there?" he added, turning to the darkness beyond. "I'm going to shoot out that way in a minute!" "I like this!" whispered Jimmie. "This is some adventure! What?" CHAPTER VII A MINT IN THE MOUNTAINS "Why," the old woman said, stepping closer to the group of boys, "that's Buck!" A heavily-built man with a scraggly beard stepped away from the corral and approached the group by the fire, his stubby fingers twining in and out of his unkempt whiskers as he walked along, his eyes fixed on the fire and those about it. "That's Buck Skypole," the old woman went on, as the advancing figure stopped. "I didn't know you was to come after me Buck," she added, speaking to the new-comer. "I 'lowed you'd be right skeered of the dark," the man answered, "so I 'lowed I'd come on up an' tote you home." He rubbed his left thigh carefully for a moment and then spoke to Ned. "That's a right pert mule," he said. "Did Uncle Ike kick you?" asked Jack, nudging Oliver in the ribs with an elbow. "We'll have to wallop him a bit, if he did." "I reckon I ain't got no mad at the creeter," Buck replied. "A man must keep out'n reach of a mule. Seein' the mule's got only a few feet of play in his laigs, he ought to be able to do that! No; I ain't goin' to recommend no beatin's f'r the mule!" "Buck," said the old lady, "these are boys from New York, my old home! They're taking pictures of the mountains." "They c'n take the mountains, too!" Buck laughed. "F'r all me!" "I thought Mike might have come in with them," the old lady went on. "He isn't here, but I've had a real pleasant time with the boys. I'm much obliged to you, lads," she added, facing Ned. "I'm grateful for the tea and the fruit. They're rare here." "I reckoned you wouldn't find Mike here," Buck chuckled, "f'r while you was gone a message come from Mike. He can't get here now, but he's sent the kid!" "He has?" cried the woman, joyfully. "Do you mean to tell me, Buck, that the boy is right down there this minute, in my cabin?" "Sure I do," was the reply, "an' a bright little feller he is." "Give us a guess on that," whispered Jack to Oliver. "Is the kid in the cabin Mike III., or is he the prince? Give you three guesses!" "I give it up!" the boy whispered back. "Why didn't you bring the kid along with you?" asked Frank. "We all want to see him. His grandmother has been telling us about him." "Its a right smart walk for a little one!" Buck answered. "You're welcome to come down and see him," Mrs. Brady said. "I'd be proud to give you all a snack in the morning." "Suppose we do go and see the kid?" asked Oliver. "I'm curious to know all about the little shaver!" "I'm for it!" Frank exclaimed. "And I'll be the first one there!" Jack put in. "I always liked kids--from Washington! No one will molest the camp while we are gone." "I wouldn't leave it alone, if I were you," advised the old lady. "There's a heap of bad people come into the mountains sometimes. Don't all leave at once." "That's good advice, mother," Ned said. "Two will go and two will remain here. In a short time the two out in the hills will return, and then there will be a good-sized guard for what little stuff we have." "All right," Jack declared, "if any one is going to stay here, it will be me! Come to think of it, I'm too blamed tired to walk another step to-night. Eh, Oliver?" "I'll remain here if you do," the boy replied. "I'm worn out up to my knees now, climbing mountains. And, besides, Uncle Ike would be lonesome without me away!" "Very well," Ned agreed. "That leaves Frank and me for the visit. When Jimmie and Teddy come, put them to bed without supper!" "You'll know when they come, then," laughed Jack, "for Jimmie going to bed without supper will be a noisy proposition. You can hear him for ten miles." "I'm anxious about the boys," Ned went on. "I'm afraid something is wrong with them. They should have been back here hours ago." "You remember the Indian signal for help you saw in the valley?" asked Frank, in a moment. "Well, they may have seen that, too, and taken a notion to find out about it. They went in that direction when they left the camp." "That may be the reason for their delay," Ned answered. "We should have attended to that signal ourselves," he added. "There may have been some one in serious trouble down there. I hope the boys did go--that is, if nothing happens to them because of their going. Boy Scouts should assist each other at every opportunity." After a little more talk regarding the boy who had been sent to Mary Brady by her son in Washington, and after Buck had been given a couple of cups of steaming hot coffee, the four started down the slope to the west. "Did any one say how far it was to the old lady's cabin?" asked Jack of his chum, as they nestled down by the fire, the mountain air being cold, even in June. "Buck said it was three whoops and a holler!" almost shrieked Oliver. "Do you know what he meant by that?" "I don't know," answered Jack, "but I should think, from what she said, that the boys won't feel like walking back up the mountain to-night. Therefore, if Jimmie and Teddy don't come, well be alone." "I wonder if they would know the prince if they met him in the road?" laughed Oliver. "That kid down there is just as much the prince as I am. What did they steal the kid for, anyway?" "Politics!" yawned Jack. "What did they send him over here for, anyway?" "Politics!" with another yawn. "Aw, go on to bed!" grinned Oliver. "I'll build up another fire, to serve as a sort of lighthouse for the boys and sit up for them." So Jack went into the tent, pulled down a great heap of blankets, drew off his coat and shoes and stockings, and was soon asleep in a neat little nest! Oliver sat by the fire for a short time and then went up to the summit to look over the valley. The moon was rising now, and he could see the four who had recently left the camp working their way over a ridge to the south and west. Straight down, in a canyon made by an outcropping ledge of rock, he saw a faint light, as from a campfire which had been allowed to die down. "The mountains are full of people to-night!" he mused. "If I thought I could make Uncle Ike behave himself, I'd ride down there and see who those campers are." The boy stood undecided for some moments, then his eyes opened wider and he moved downward toward the fire. He was thinking of the Boy Scout signals for help which Ned and Frank had mentioned seeing! "I wonder if Jack would go down there with me!" When he reached the camp Jack was in the land of dreams, and he decided not to awake him. He could go alone just as well! He went on down to the feeding ground and presented Uncle Ike with a lump of sugar. The mule thanked him with wiggling ears and dived a soft muzzle into his coat pocket for another lump. "Not until you come back, Uncle Ike!" Oliver explained. "If you do a good job traveling up and down the mountainside, you're going to have another piece of sugar when we get back!" The boy saddled and bridled the animal, mounted, and urged him away from the feeding ground. Uncle Ike, thinking his day's work finished, objected to being put into harness again, and reared and kicked until Oliver was obliged to dismount and bribe him with more sugar. "Will you go now, you fool mule?" he asked. Uncle Ike finally decided to go, and his sure feet were soon pressing the slope toward the campfire. Oliver struck the canyon just about where Jimmie and Teddy had entered it. He left Uncle Ike there and advanced toward the campfire on foot. There were only a few embers left, and no signs of the fires which had sent up the two columns of smoke! There was no one in sight from the place where Oliver first came in direct view of the blaze. He stepped along cautiously, listening as he walked, and soon came to a second fire. This, too, was burned down low. Beyond this he saw the dark opening of a cave in the outcropping ridge. As Oliver stepped toward it, thinking the boys might have taken refuge there for the night, he stumbled over something which rolled under his foot and nearly fell to the ground. When he stooped over to see what it was that had tripped him, he saw an electric flashlight lying before him. "The boys have been here, all right," he mused. "Now, I wonder if this was taken from them, or whether they lost it, or whether it was placed here to mark the trail? Either supposition may be the correct one!" The question was settled in a moment, for a voice which he knew came out of the darkness. "Found it, eh? Give it to me!" "Jimmie!" whispered Oliver. "Get in here out of the light of the fire!" Jimmie whispered, "and bring the electric in with you. Come on in, and see what we've found." The opening in the ridge was a shallow one, Oliver discovered as he entered it. To his surprise he found three lads there instead of the two he had been looking for. "You saw the fires?" asked Jimmie, in a low tone. "Of course I did. Why didn't you come to camp?" "This is the boy that built the Boy Scout signals!" Jimmie said, bringing the other forward. "His name is Dode Surratt, and he's a bold, bad boy, being at present lookout for a gang of counterfeiters!" "That's a nice clean job," Oliver replied. "Where are the counterfeiters?" "At work in a hole in the ground. Hear the click of their machines? They are turning out silver dollars faster than we can spend them. We hid around until they went to work, then came up to talk with Dode." Jimmie pointed to a crevice in the rock and invited Oliver to look. A lance of light came up into the cave, and the boy's eyes followed it. He could see a square room below, with a bright fire burning at one end and figures moving about it. "Making counterfeit money, are they?" asked Oliver. "That's what they're doing! We were just thinking of getting out when you came. Dode wants to go with us, but we tell him to remain with the gang until they can be rounded up by the officers." Dode started to make some remark, but Jimmie stopped him. "They haven't got any consideration coming from you, have they?" he asked. "They stole you, didn't they? They brought you here from Washington to make a thief of you, didn't they?" "And they beat you up for making the signals, too," Teddy put in. "And they're coming out now!" he added. "So we'll all git--but Dode!" CHAPTER VIII UNCLE IKE PRESENTS HIMSELF Mrs. Brady and Buck walking together, Ned and Frank discussed the situation thoroughly as they descended the mountainside. "This may be a frame-up," Ned observed, "but it is up to us to see it through. The boy who has just been brought in may be the prince, or he may be the grandson, and we are here to get the answer." "Or there may be no boy at the cabin at all!" Frank suggested. "The conspirators know that we are in the mountains for the purpose of looking up the prince. What better plan than the one now working could they have settled on? If they are sharp at all, they would understand that a story of a child brought on from Washington would set us in motion--would be likely to get us into a trap!" They scrambled on down the slope for some distance, too busy keeping upright to do any talking, then Frank went on. "You know very well that I'm no prophet of evil, Ned, but it looks to me that we have betrayed our mission here by taking such an interest in the child. Would a lot of boys looking for snap-shots trail off in the night to see a boy when they might have taken a look at him the next day?" "If I know anything about human nature," Ned answered, "those two people ahead of us are honest. If it is a frame-up, they are not in it." "Anyway," Frank went on, "I'm glad the plans were changed by the arrival of Buck. It is much better for us to meet whatever is coming to us side by side than to have me sneaking back in the distance!" Ned agreed to this, and the two quickened their pace in order to come up with Buck and Mrs. Brady, who were now turning from the west to the south, keeping along the slope of the mountain. Directly they came to a narrow trail which led into a green valley. Following this, they soon came to a couple of acres of cleared land, in the middle of which stood a rough cabin of peeled logs. A dim light came from a square window by the door, and there came from the interior the sound of a man's voice humming a song. The woman drew up and looked suspiciously at Buck. "Who is that?" she asked. "You didn't tell me my son came, too." "No," replied Buck, "I didn't, because, you see, Mike didn't come! He sent this young fellow in with the kid, bringing word that he would be along later." "And who is it?" demanded the woman. "A likely young chap," was the reply. "He asked me to get you home to-night, because he wants to leave early in the morning." "He won't leave early in the morning if he sees us here," Ned whispered to Frank. "If that is the prince in there, the man with him may be the fellow who made his way into Jack's house and listened from the attic." "What are we going to do about it, then?" asked Frank, anxiously. "We've got to meet him," Ned replied. "Whoever he is, he knows from Buck that Mrs. Brady went up the mountain to visit a camp of strangers. We've got to go in and face him! I wish we had kept away from here to-night." Mrs. Brady and Buck now opened the door and entered the cabin, the boys close behind them. A log fire was burning on a stone hearth, and a tall, rather handsome young man with light hair and blue eyes was sitting in a homemade chair before it. He stirred the fire to a brighter blaze as they entered, and the leaping flames disclosed a dark-haired child of perhaps seven years asleep on a bed in a corner of the small room. Without speaking, without so much as a glance at the visitor, the old lady walked swiftly to the bed and took the child in her arms. The boy opened his eyes and started to cry, but she quieted him with low words and sat down on the edge of the bed, swinging him back and forth with a motion of her arms and shoulders. The man at the fire glanced sharply at the woman and then turned his eyes to the boys, now standing not far from the bed. "The little dear!" the woman cried, mothering the child. "He's all tired out with his long journey!" "This is the man that brung the boy in," Buck said, pointing to the figure by the fire. "A mess of a time he must have had of it, too." "You are the grandmother?" asked the stranger. "Yes, I understand. And are these boys your sons, too?" he added, nodding at Ned and Frank, suspiciously. "Only New York boys spending a vacation in the mountains," Ned said, answering the question. "Mrs. Brady came to our camp tonight looking for her son and we came home with her. We are looking for good pictures," he added. The stranger pointed to the old lady, sitting with the sleeping child on her breast. "There is one," he said. "Yes, and I'm sorry I haven't my camera with me." "Are you thinking of remaining in this section long?" the visitor asked. "We can't say," laughed Ned. "We may move on to-morrow, and may stay here a week." The man's suspicions seemed to have vanished. He talked frankly with the boys, and occasionally addressed a word to the old lady. He gave her, briefly, a good report of her son's progress in Washington, and handed her a roll of bank-notes. "He is coming here himself soon," he said, "and he will bring more. He is doing very nicely there." Ned was wishing the boy would waken when the old lady arose from the bed and laid him gently down. He stirred uneasily in his sleep and she stood by his side, smoothing his dark hair away from his forehead. "He favors my side of the family, being dark," she said. "The Stileses are all dark. If one of you boys will sit with him a moment," she added, with mountain hospitality, "I'll get you all a snack. It was a long road over the mountains." Ned accepted the invitation eagerly and sat down by the child. The face was dark and slender, the eyebrows turned up a trifle at the outer comers. "Is it Mike III., or is it the prince?" he was asking himself when the boy awoke and sat up in bed with a jerk. "What's comin' off here?" he demanded, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "What kind of a bum game is this? I want my daddy." The visitor by the fire laughed. "He's up in city slum talk," he said. "And he's learned something of French, too, knocking around with the boys in school." "I can talk Franch like a native," asserted the boy. "And what else?" asked the man by the fire. "Any old thing!" boasted the child. "They keep me at books all the time. I'm glad I'm with grandmother in the hills. Are you my grandmother?" he asked, pointing to the old woman, now bending over the fire. "Yes, deary," was the reply. "I'm going to take care of you now." "I'm glad!" The boy tumbled back on the bed again and closed his eyes. Frank looked at Ned significantly. "There's no doubt about it!" his eyes said. "This child is Mike III." The old lady made hot corn bread and brewed a pot of mountain tea. The boys were not at all hungry, but managed to eat and drink moderately. Then Ned arose. "We've got to be on our way," he said. "It will be morning before we get back to camp if we don't start pretty soon!" When the boys, after a cordial good night from Mrs. Brady and Buck, left the cabin the visitor followed them out. Ned stopped breathing, almost, as he took him by the arm. "There's one thing I want you to explain to the old lady after a time," the man said. "I suppose I might do it myself, but I prefer to let her know from personal observation something of the case first. That boy is not exactly right." "Not mentally sound, you mean?" asked Ned. "He appeared to be all right just now." "Oh, he's bright enough," answered the other, "but he's been ill and has been in a hospital at Washington, and has been cuddled and humored so long that he likes to boss! Not good people to boss, the attendants in a hospital, you will say, but I guess they let this kid have his way. When he was delirious they told him all sorts of fairy tales about kings and princes, and he actually thinks some of them are true. If he breaks out in any of his tantrums before you leave, kindly tell the old lady what I am telling you, will you?" Ned almost gasped! So the boy was likely to talk of kings and princes! He was likely to become masterful in his manners! "I may have to change my mind," he thought. "This may be the prince, and not Mike III. But the boy's English, and there's his street slang! What about that? I reckon that we have a job on our hands!" The two stood talking together in the moonlight for some moments, the stranger evidently resolved to make a good impression on the boys, while Frank walked on along the trail, looking back now and then to see if his chum was coming. "This boy's father," the man went on, "has permitted him to have his own way about everything. That was a mistake, of course, but he is trying to rectify it now by placing him under the care of his grandmother, who, if I mistake not, will see that he is properly disciplined." "It has been a long time since the father left here," Ned suggested. "Yes, along time." "He is doing well in Washington?" "Yes, he is connected with the State department." Ned made a mental note of that! "And is receiving a fair salary?" he asked. "Oh, yes; he's doing nicely, far better than his mother has any notion of." Here was more food for thought. Why had the father delegated the pleasant duty of taking the boy back to the old mountain home to another if he had been situated so that he might have taken the journey himself? "Is it the prince, or is it Mike III.?" he kept asking himself. While they stood there together a great clattering came down the trail, and they saw Frank turn aside and stand at attention, as if waiting for some object, seen in the distance, to come up. Directly the sounds settled down to the rattling of stones and the steady pounding of hoofs. "Look what's here!" Frank shouted, pointing. Ned moved forward, closer to the trail, and in a moment caught sight of a tall, lank, ungainly mule coming galloping toward him! "What do you think of him?" called Frank. "He's come to tell us that it is time we were home and in bed." "Uncle Ike!" called Ned. "Come here, you foolish mule!" Uncle Ike, now in plain sight, kicked up his heels in derision but finally came to an abrupt halt in front of Ned, and stood with ears pitched forward and forelegs braced back, evidently very much frightened. CHAPTER IX A LANK MULE AS A DECOY Judd Bradley, the young man who had brought the boy into the mountains, stood for a moment watching the mule curiously. Then he stepped nearer to Ned, who was trying to quiet the fractious animal. "Be careful," Ned warned, as Bradley approached. "Uncle Ike doesn't take to strangers. He may kick if you come within reach." "Hell kick you whether you come within reach or not!" grumbled Buck, who had been brought from the cabin by the clatter of the mule's hoofs. "He reached over forty acres of rock to hand me one on the laig!" he added, rubbing his left thigh. Mrs. Brady came to the doorway of the cabin and stood there, outlined against the red firelight within, with the boy in her arms. The child reached forth his arms impatiently, then began beating the old woman with his small fists. "Go an' get me the horse!" he commanded. "Mike wants a ride!" "That's the prince, all right!" whispered Frank to Ned. "That's the prince of some slum alley in Washington. What he needs is a club, applied just before and after meals, and just before retiring, with a dose at intervals during the night!" "I'm not thinking of the prince now," Ned returned, still in a low tone, for the others were not far off, "I'm wondering how Uncle Ike came to be here." "Broke away and eloped with himself, probably," laughed Frank. "Yes," grinned Ned, "and put on saddle and bridle before he started!" Frank's eyes now began to stick out. "S-a-a-y!" he whispered. "We'd better be getting back to camp! There's something out of whack there! If the mule could only talk!" Bradley, who had backed away at Ned's warning, now came up to the mule's head. "He doesn't kick with his ears, does he?" he asked, with a smile. "He's an outlaw," Ned answered, wishing Bradley would return to the cabin. "He's thrown one of the boys, and we must be on our way. If you have time before you leave, come up to the camp. We've got the latest things in cameras and photographic material." "I may get up there in the morning," was the reply. Bradley and Mrs. Brady entered the house and closed the door, and Ned turned to his chum with an odd look on his face. "I've seen that man somewhere before tonight!" he said. "Then you'd better try hard to place him," Frank answered, "for we are going to see more of him in the future, if I'm not mistaken. Perhaps you saw him on one of your visits to Washington." "That may be," Ned replied. "Anyway, I may be able to think it out before morning." Uncle Ike laid his nose against Ned's shoulder and gave him a push. "He's in a hurry!" the boy laughed. "We ought to be, too! Is it possible that one of the boys saddled him for a ride on the mountain in the night?" "Just like Jack or Oliver. Or Jimmie may have returned and planned one of his midnight expeditions!" "Get up and ride," Ned advised. "I'll walk and try to place that man's face." "You might have seen it in the rogue's gallery," suggested Frank, leaping into the saddle and starting away, the mule pulling and rearing every moment. Finally Ned called out to him to stop, and walked up to his side. "What is the matter with Uncle Ike?" he asked. "He insists on keeping down toward the canyon," was Frank's reply. "We came cat-cornering down the slope, didn't we?" "We certainly did," Ned answered, considering the matter gravely. "Tell you what you do," he went on, "let the mule have his head! Let him go just where he wants to. It is the instinct of animals to follow precedent, same as men. A man will follow a cow path until it becomes a city street, and a cow, a horse, or a mule will follow a trail previously used--if only passed over once! Let the mule have his head, and he may take us to the place where somebody was dumped!" "Solomon had nothing on you, Ned!" laughed Frank. "Go to it! Uncle Ike, it is you for the scene of the abduction! And you may go just as fast as you please!" The mule started off at a fast pace, keeping to the bottom of the valley and finally entering the canyon at the south end. Ned walked by Frank's side, his hand on the stirrup, listening for a sound he dreaded to hear. He was afraid one of the boys had been thrown from the animal's back, and might be lying, suffering, in one of the crevices or breaks which marked the bottom of the canyon. After traveling some little distance in the canyon, Frank drew up and pointed ahead. "Right over there," he said, "is the spot where we saw the smoke signs!" "That's a fact!" Ned answered. "One of the boys must have come here to investigate and left Uncle Ike without tying! The mule has been here before, or he wouldn't plod along so steadily. Suppose we leave him here and walk on cautiously?" "Just what I was about to propose," Frank agreed. Uncle Ike seemed to resent being left alone in the canyon, which was now almost as light as day, save where the shadows of the mountain to the east lay along the wall on that side. The mule was finally quieted and left in a dark angle. Moving in the shadows, the boys soon came to an angle in the cut and looked out on the remains of a campfire. They pushed on until they came opposite to it, but saw no one. In order to reach it they would be obliged to cross the canyon, not very wide there, but flooded with moonlight in the center. While they stood in the shadow of the mountain a man came stumbling down the slope ten yards away from them. At first they thought it was one of their chums, but when the man's figure came into the moonlight they saw that he was tall, heavily built, and also heavily bearded. He walked straight across to the fire and passed it, turning into a shallow cave there was in the rock of the outcropping ridge. The boys saw him enter the cave and look sharply around, then he disappeared as suddenly and completely as if he had walked into the solid rock. "We're getting all the stage effects!" Frank whispered. "That man ducked into a moonshiner's establishment!" "He ducked in somewhere, all right," Ned answered. "I wish we could get across there without exhibiting ourselves to the whole country." "I believe the boy that rode the mule is over there!" Frank suggested. "Yes; and he's probably been picked up by the moonshiners," Ned agreed. "We've got to get over there, so here goes!" The boys went across the streak of moonlight like a couple of flashes, and drew up at the mouth of the cavern. So far as they could determine no one had observed them. They crept to the very back of the cave and huddled close together, listening. "Not a soul in sight!" Frank whispered. "That might have been a ghost!" "Do ghosts rattle metal?" asked Ned. There followed another silence, and then the clink of metal came clearer to the ears of the listening boys. "Where does it come from?" asked Frank. "There's not a crack in sight in this rock." A puff of soft coal gas wafted into the cave, causing the boys to hold their breaths. Then, in spite of all he could do to prevent it, Frank sneezed. Almost instantly a dark figure appeared between the place where the boys were hidden and the space of moonlight in front. The man stepped out, looked up and down the canyon, and came slowly back to meet another figure. "Nothing doing!" a gruff voice said. "But that wasn't any bird!" insisted another gruff voice. "Well, you may look for yourself!" "I tell you," the second speaker went on, "that those boys are still out in the hills! When I was at the camp there was only one in the tent, and he sat there with a gun in his lap, watching for the others to come back." "Did you speak with him?" "What for would I speak with him?" "To get his story. What are they here for? That is worth knowing." "Well, I didn't show myself because we're not supposed to be here ourselves!" came the other voice. "If you hadn't built the fire outside to-night we'd have been in no danger. Now we've got a lot of boys sneaking around. What did you do with the others?" "They're in the work-room." "In the work-room, seeing everything! You're a bright lot! You know now, I suppose that we've got to leave those lads here when we go away?" "I have known that all along. There are plenty of kids in the world. These won't be missed. It is a bad job, but it must be done!" "They shouldn't have come sneaking around!" The two men disappeared again, but this time Ned saw the opening to the work-room, as they had termed the underground apartment, when they swung an imitation rock made of plank aside and stepped down. For a moment their figures were illumined by the red light of the fire within, and then they were no longer in sight. "They're a cheerful pair!" Frank whispered. "Counterfeiters!" Ned whispered, in reply. "And murderers!" "How are we going to get the boys out?" asked Frank. "They'll be killed if we don't." "One must raise a ruction on the outside, and the other must sneak in while the outlaws are gone. That is the only way I can think of now. If you go out there and get Uncle Ike, and coax a couple of sobs out of him, and rattle stones, and shoot your automatic like rain, the outlaws may all rush out of the cave." "I can do all that, but how will you get in?" "When they run out, they will pass me. Then I'll get in through the door," Ned replied. "If there's no one in there it won't take me long to find the boys and turn them loose." "But if there is some one in there?" "Then you'll hear shooting," Ned answered, grimly. "In that case, mount the mule and get back to camp and bring Jack and Oliver and a lot of guns." "But one of those boys must be in there," Frank insisted. "Some one rode Ike here!" "We don't know who it is that is here," Ned reflected. "Anyway, you've got to get away with the mule after making all that noise. Don't go in the direction of the Brady cabin. We don't want that man Bradley mixing us up with police officers!" "Every minute counts!" Frank declared, "I'm off. You'll hear a racket like the blowing up of a world in about three minutes! Good luck!" The lads shook hands and parted. It seemed to each one that the other was going to his death, but only encouraging words were spoken. In five minutes a horrible clamor rang down the canyon. Uncle Ike screamed, and the beating of hoofs sounded like a charge of cavalry. Then came sharp, quick pistol shots. Three men dashed out of the cavern and Ned crept in at the open door! "I don't know what I shall find in here!" he mused, as he came into the light of a great fire, "but I'll know all about it right soon!" CHAPTER X "PACKED AWAY LIKE SARDINES" Even in that underground room Ned could hear the shooting outside and the screams of the aggravated mule. Several weapons seemed to be pouring out lead, and the boy wondered if the outlaws were getting the range of his chum. The firing seemed to grow fainter as he advanced into the room. Either the outlaws were pursuing Frank or the shooters were taking refuge behind rocks which deadened the sound. At first the boy kept his eye out for an attack on himself, but there seemed to be none of the outlaws left in the subterranean place. The fire was built at one side, and the light from it filled the whole apartment. Counterfeit dollars lay about, scattered over the floor as if dropped in great haste. Halting in the center of the room, after closing and baring the outer door, Ned put his fingers to his lips and gave out a low whine, one of the signals used by the boys of the Wolf Patrol. While he listened for a response, the firing outside came nearer, or appeared from the sound to do so. "I'd be in a nice fix if they should seek to retreat to the cave!" Ned thought. While he listened an answer came to his call--the low, sharp signal of the Wolves! "That's Jimmie!" Ned muttered. "He's in some of the holes just outside this room." "Where are you?" he asked, and the answer came with a giggle. "We're packed away like sardines! Come get us out! We're only tied with ropes, but the ropes know their business! Here! To the right of the fire!" Ned soon found that the wall at the point indicated was of plank, like the door, painted and sanded to imitate rock. He had no difficulty in finding the opening, and in a short time the boys were relieved of their bonds. Ned opened his eyes wide at sight of Dode, the fourth boy, and of Oliver, who had been left at the camp. "What's the shooting outside?" asked Jimmie, stretching his arms, cramped from long confinement. "Who's out there with Uncle Ike? Say, but I was glad to hear the gentle voice of that wicked old mule!" "And now," Teddy observed, "how about getting out of this? I'm hungry." "If Frank keeps that racket going," Ned answered, motioning the group toward the door by which he had entered, "we may be able to get out without being seen. You can tell me how you got caged later on. Now we'll try the door." "Wait!" whispered Jimmie. "Wait!" said Dode. Ned turned and faced both boys with enquiring eyes. "Why wait?" he asked. "I want my gun!" Jimmie replied. "They searched us and put the plunder in that alcove in the rock on the other side of the fire. We'll need the guns, I take it." The three boys, Jimmie, Teddy, and Oliver, made a quick rush for the alcove and soon came back with their guns and electrics. The firing outside was again farther away, and the chances for getting out without being attacked appeared to be good. "What is it?" Ned asked Dode, as he pulled at his sleeve. "There's another door," the lad explained. "It opens on the slope on the west side of the ridge we are under. We can go that way without being seen." "That's just the thing!" Jimmie exclaimed. "We can get out and join Frank in the mess outside! Then I reckon we'll put the skids under the outlaws!" Dode led the way to the opening indicated, passed, with the others at his heels, through a long passage, and finally came to a plank door which was securely fastened on the inside. From this position the racket outside became only a hum. The boy unfastened the door and swung it inside. Beyond lay the slope, and, beyond that, the valley and the distant mountains. The air of the night was sweet and clear after the close atmosphere of the underground room. From the other side of the ridge, which was not very high, came shots and the vicious shrieks of a pestered mule! Ned turned to the south, from which direction the clamor came, and passed as swiftly as possible along the slant of the elevation. "Are you going to attack the outlaws from the rear?" asked Teddy. "We are taking the wrong course if you want to go back to camp." "Huh!" Jimmie grunted, trudging along puffing at every breath, "we've got to find Frank and Uncle Ike, I guess." When the party came to the end of the ridge under which the counterfeiters had been working, they faced the valley, some distance away, in which the cabin of Mary Brady stood. Through the moonlight they could just distinguish the crude stone chimney of the structure. "Now, Ned," Jimmie explained, "if we turn up the slope here and do a little shooting when we reach a good elevation, the counterfeiters will think they are being attacked by a fresh party and duck back to the cave. Then Frank can come along with that blessed old mule. Did you ever hear a lop-eared old rascal of the mule tribe make such a racket? I wonder what Frank was doing to him?" "I know!" Teddy broke in. "He was tickling him with his heels. That makes Uncle Ike half crazy! There goes another yell! Fine old bird, is Uncle Ike!" It was plain to the boys that the battle was quite a distance to the south and leading down into the valley, so they began the ascent of the rocky slope and continued up until they were all out of breath. Then they stopped and looked back. The outlaws came into sight, in a minute, making for their cave. They fired an occasional shot as they retreated, and this fact convinced the boys that Frank had not been wounded by any of the shots which had been fired at him. "We'll quicken their steps a trifle!" Ned said. "You boys go on up to the next shelf and I'll fire from here. They may charge us, and if they do I can cover your retreat. Besides, you will have a longer start." "I'm going to stay right here and shoot, too!" Jimmie declared. "Those men have several bumps coming from me!" "Ain't he the great little gunman?" snickered Teddy. "But I need you up there with the others to protect my retreat," urged Ned, so Jimmie unwillingly toiled up the acclivity. They came to a shelf perhaps three hundred feet beyond Ned's stand and crouched down. Ned's fire, when it came, had the effect of sending the outlaws on a run toward their cave, so the boy joined the others without facing a return fire. "They'll be out again when they see what's been going on at the cave!" Jimmie predicted, but the prophecy was not a good one, for no figures were seen in the canyon after that, and no more shots were fired from that direction. "I know what the bogus money-makers will do now," Jimmie snickered. "They'll pack up their tools and vanish! They'll be thinking the whole Secret Service bunch is after them!" "That's just the trouble," Ned said. "I'm afraid the mountaineers will also think we are Secret Service operatives and spies and make trouble for us." "We'll have to get busy with our cameras, then," Jimmie went on, "and take pictures of everything in sight. We may be believed if we tell the truth, that we blundered on their cave and they attacked us. I wonder why Frank doesn't show up? He may have been killed or wounded!" "If he has been hurt," Teddy observed, as the sound of hoofs came From the south, "Uncle Ike hasn't, for here he comes, ugly as ever." Believing that Frank was indeed approaching, the boys fired a number of shots to direct his course and waited. The hoofbeats, the labored breathing of the mule, became more distinct directly, and then Frank came into sight. The greeting he received was a warm one, and Uncle Ike was petted and permitted to search every pocket for sugar! "I don't see how you escaped being hit," Ned observed. "The outlaws fired enough shots to cripple an army." "They never saw me," declared Frank. "I kept behind ridges and outcropping rocks, and in the shadows. They were afraid to come too close, for they must have thought a dozen men were attacking them. Whenever I fired I changed my position, and when Uncle Ike yelled I hustled him along! I reckon a good many of the shots you heard came from my gun! When you began shooting that settled it! They will be fifty miles from here by tomorrow noon!" "That's likely, for they won't dare remain here after they have been caught at their work," Ned admitted. "Moonshiners might remain and fight, but counterfeiters will get away right soon. I take it they don't belong to this section anyway." On the way to the camp, during the brief rests, Jimmie explained how they had been surprised while in the outer cave and had been taken inside and tied up. The boy Dode was overjoyed at his escape from the gang, and explained that they had captured him not far from Washington and forced him to accompany them, the idea being to use him in the future in getting rid of the spurious coins. "They are making a lot of it," he declared, "and the country will be flooded with their work if the government doesn't catch them." It may be well to state here that the reasoning of the boys with regard to the future actions of the outlaws was correct, as they disappeared from that section that night. When the lads visited the cave later on some of the counterfeit coin which had been made was still scattered about the subterranean room. When they first reached the camp Jack was not in sight, but he soon appeared, coming from a hiding place near the summit. "I thought I'd better not expose myself by remaining in the tent," he explained, "so ducked away and hid where I could watch the mules and the provisions without being seen. I had about made up my mind that the state militia had been called out, you made such a racket!" "We're going to give Uncle Ike a medal, also a barrel of sugar, for heroic conduct in the face of the enemy!" Jimmie declared, and the mule, for once in his life, found a full pocket when he nosed about for sweet lumps! While the lads were eating a delayed supper, Jack turned to Oliver with a mock frown on his face. "The next time you go away in the night and leave me alone in camp," he said, "I'm going to break your dial in! I might have been shot while asleep. According to the conversation between the outlaws, just related by Jimmie, one of the toughs came up here! Don't you ever do that again, if you want to keep a whole hide." "I guess Uncle Ike has a larger kick coming than you have!" Jimmie remarked. When the boys compared notes and thoughts concerning the child, the old lady, and the blonde stranger, they could not agree at all. Some of them insisted that the boy was Mike III., while the others declared that he was the prince! "If he isn't the grandson," one asked, "why this American slang?" "And if he is," questioned another, "why this talk about French and other foreign languages? Mike III. wouldn't know a foreign tongue, would he?" CHAPTER XI JACK'S ELEGANT CHICKEN PIE The sun was high over the mountains when Ned awoke on the morning following the adventure with the counterfeiters. Leaving Jimmie, Frank, Teddy and Oliver in their bunks and Dode, the new acquisition to the party, curled up in a nest of blankets, he issued forth from the tent and looked about for Jack, who had been left on guard. The boy was nowhere in sight at first, then he saw him at a spring which bubbled out of the mountain not far from the corral. It was the water from this spring which brought forth the tender grass upon which the mules were feeding. Jack looked up with a shout when he saw Ned, and came running up to the camp, carrying in one hand a pail in which three large-sized chickens lay, nicely boiled, carved and washed. "What do you think of that?" he demanded, pushing the pail up under Ned's nose. "I guess we're some hustlers for sustenance!" "Where did you get the hens?" asked Ned. "They sure look good to me." "You couldn't guess in a thousand years!" Jack replied. "So I'm going to tell you, right off the handle! Judd Bradley, the blonde fellow who brought the boy in, came up with them, with the compliments of Mrs. Brady, about an hour ago. He brought the boy up with him, too. What do you know about that?" "Is it the prince, or is it Mike III.?" asked Ned, with a smile. "If you leave it to me," Jack answered quite positively, "it is the prince!" "How does he look and act this morning?" "Like a kid raised under restraint, now free and full of the de--Old Nick!" "And Bradley?" asked Ned. "That's another point! He watches the kid every second of the time, and when the boy speaks a word of French he looks daggers at him! I reckon the son of Mike II. wouldn't be talking French! Nor he wouldn't be here with a chaperon from Washington. We have found the prince, all right, and I'm sorry for it! It makes our work too easy!" "Don't crow until you're out of the woods!" laughed Ned. "There may be a few adventures in store for us yet! So this seven-year-old boy talks French, does he?" "You bet he does! Like a native!" "Where are they now--Bradley and the boy, I mean?" "Down by the mules! The boy, who is constantly called Mike--ostentatiously called by that name--wants to ride Uncle Ike! Fat time he'll have if he gets aboard of that argumentative brute!" "Are they going to help eat the chicken?" asked Ned. "Sure! I told them to stick around until I got the most beautiful chicken pie built they ever touched tongue to. They're going to stay. You go and talk with them while I make the pie. It is going to be a corker--melt in your mouth, make you dream of the old red barn down on the farm!" "Ever make a chicken pie?" asked Ned. "Of course not! There's got to be a first time to everything! But I know how. I've got a recipe here which is used by the chef at Sherry's." "Go to it!" laughed Ned. "I'll take my chances on having canned meat for dinner." "You just wait!" roared Jack, as Ned dashed down to the spring. Jack stood a moment, pail in hand, watching Ned washing at the spring, and then went on to the fire, leaving Ned to proceed to the corral and entertain the guests. Jimmie was just tumbling out of the tent when Jack came up with the chicken. That young man immediately set up a shout which awakened the others and brought them out rubbing their eyes. "Chicken for breakfast!" he shouted. "Chicken pie for dinner!" Jack corrected. "All right!" sighed the boy. "Then I'll cook a couple of pounds of ham and a couple of dozen eggs for breakfast! That ought to keep us alive until you get the pie ready!" "How do you make chicken pie?" demanded Frank. "I've always wanted to know how to make a pie out of a hen." "You just watch me," Jack answered, not without a touch of pride, "and I'll show how it is done. Here, young man, don't set down on my dough! That's for the crust." Jimmie bounded off a camp stool where the cook had deposited his crust-dough on a clean white paper and watched Jack line a six-quart tin pail with the mixture of flour, water and baking powder. "That ain't thick enough!" he commented. "The crust ought to be an inch thick." "You go out and feed the mules!" ordered Jack. "When I want any help in making a chicken pie I won't call on you!" "Anyway," Jimmie insisted, "it ought to be an inch thick." Jack laid the pieces of chicken in the bed of dough--the chickens having been cooked tender long before Ned was out of his blankets--and put in salt, pepper, a small piece of butter--out of a glass can!--and then poured in some of the liquid the chickens had been stewed in. "If there should happen to be a drumstick you can't get in," Jimmie volunteered, "I can eat it for breakfast!" "So that's why you wanted the crust so thick!" cried Jack. "You wanted to crowd the chicken out so you could stuff yourself with a hen for breakfast! Run along and play you'r a baker's wagon delivering goods on the Bowery!" "You're the wise little man--not!" Jimmie grunted and set about cooking ham and eggs for breakfast. "How long will it take that chicken pie to cook?" asked Teddy. "Couple of hours," replied Jack. "Sometimes it takes longer." Jack prepared a great bed of coals, drew up dry wood to make more, and set the pail of chicken pie in the heavy double oven to cook. "I'm making this 'specially light and sweet," he said, poking the coals up to the oven, "because we're going to have a prince of the royal blood to breakfast." "Where is he?" asked Jimmie, with a grin, "Down by the mules! He brought these chickens to us--or his chaperon did! Rather thoughtful of him! Say, Frank," Jack added, "will you go down to the corral and take a lot of snapshots of the kid? I want to send some home to Chicago, just to convince the boys I've been dining with royalty." "Dining with Mike III.," Frank laughed. "It is dollars to dills that the boy trying to get on Uncle Ike's back is fresh from the Washington slums!" "Look you here, little man," Jack began, but just at that moment Ned, Bradley, and the boy appeared on the slope, headed for the camp. The boy was seated on the back of Uncle Ike, who, for a wonder, was marching along sedately, as if accustomed to being made the plaything of children. "I wouldn't have believed it of him!" Jimmie muttered. "I wouldn't have trusted a kid on that wild animal's back any sooner than I would have trusted eggs to a hay-baler. Uncle Ike's sure going into a decline!" The boy came riding up ahead of the others and shouted to Jimmie: "Gardez! A cheval!" he shouted, urging the mule into a trot. "That's your kid from the Washington slums!" Jack laughed, scornfully. "Talking French!" "What does he say?" demanded Jimmie. "He says for you to be on your guard--to look out for yourself--as he is coming on horseback. I don't know much French, but that is easy!" Bradley hastened to the boy's side and said something to him in a tone which the others could not hear, the lad coloring slightly as he listened. "He's jawing him for speaking French!" Jimmie commented. "It looks like it," Jack observed. "Oh, I reckon we've got the prince all right. I wonder when we are going to start back to Washington with him, and if Ned will pinch that blonde beauty who brought him in?" Uncle Ike stopped at the campfire and stuck his nose into Jimmie's pocket, looking for sugar. Mike III., as some of the boys insisted on thinking of the little fellow, dropped off and seized the animal by the tail and began to pull. Frank ran to get the child out of his dangerous position, but Uncle Ike merely looked around to see what it was that was pulling his tail winked one eye at Frank, and went on searching pockets. "That mule sure gets my goat!" grinned Jimmie. "What do you think of his standing still while his tail is being pulled?" By this time Jimmie had prepared breakfast, and the boys gathered about the fire with tin plates on their knees, and devoured ham and eggs, baked beans, and bread and butter and coffee with a mountain relish. Mike III. ate what was given to him at the first helping and then clamored for more. Bradley whispered something in his ear, but the boy pushed him off with a scowl: "Alles-vous en!" he cried, angrily. Jack snickered and Frank looked as if he had made a mistake in his estimate of the boy and knew it! Bradley drew the boy away, but Jimmie hastened to replenish his plate. "Let the kid have all he wants!" he said. "We can cook more. We're going to have a chicken pie for dinner, and he'll like that." "Seems to me it is about time Jack was looking after that pie," Frank suggested. "Pretty near forgot it!" Jack admitted, going to the oven and opening the door so as to look inside at the dainty. Something took place when he did that! The square piece of metal flew back on its hinges with a thump, and cut of the oven flew the cover of the tin pail in which the chicken pie had been tucked. It shot across the fire and struck Jimmie under the ear and then rolled back into the blaze! "Jerusalem!" cried the boy. "What you shootin' at me for?" No attention was paid to what the boy said, for at that moment a wave of dough, spotted here and there with pieces of chicken, puffed out of the pail and tumbled over Jack's stooping shoulders and on into the fire, where it continued to grow until the fire half consumed it. "Catch the chicken!" yelled Frank. "He's running away." Jack tried to keep the dough in the oven, but it rolled out and covered his hands and arms with a sticky mess. The little fellow screamed with delight. "Oh, oh, _de mal en pis!_" he shouted. "Grab the chicken!" shouted Teddy. "We can finish breakfast on that!" While the mess was being cleared up, Frank asked Jack: "How much baking powder did you put into that dough?" "Only one can!" was the reply, and Frank went away and rolled on the ground! "Say," Jimmie whispered to Jack, who was scraping the chicken pie off his clothes, "what did the kid say when he pushed Bradley away, and when the pie busted?" "First he said 'be off with you' or 'let me alone' next he said 'from bad to worse' Or something like that. Look at Bradley. He's calling him down for it, right now. I'm going, to talk French to that kid when Bradley goes away. I'm going to know about this three Mike and this prince business!" CHAPTER XII THE BLACK HAND GAME Shortly after breakfast, and after what remained of the chickens had been eaten, Bradley and his charge left the camp, after inviting the boys to visit them in the cabin in the valley. Bradley appeared anxious to be friendly, and seemed absolutely frank in his talks. The only suspicious thing they noticed in him was his jealous care of the boy--his reproaches when the lad had indulged in a word or two of French! "You bet I'll visit you at the cabin!" Jack said, as the two disappeared over the summit. "I'll be there with the lingo, too! I can soon find out from the boy what he knows of the French language! Of course I'll be down to the cottage!" "Bradley will see that you don't talk with the boy alone!" Jimmie declared. "I'll catch him doing it!" was Jack's reply. "What do you think about it, Ned?" asked Frank. "Is that the prince, or is it Mike III.? You may have all the guesses you need. "First," Ned said, turning to Jack and Frank, "tell me what the boy said when he spoke in French." Jack repeated the interpretations as previously given, and Ned remained in a thoughtful mood for a long time. Then he went into the tent, without answering any questions, and began overhauling the stock of reading matter brought along. When he found what he wanted to he threw himself on the bunk where he had slept and read steadily for an hour or more. At least he held to the book for that length of time, turning the leaves rapidly at times, and then not at all for several minutes. "What's he up to?" asked Teddy. "Something on his alleged mind!" "I'll go and find out what he's reading," Jimmie volunteered. The boy entered the tent, but was back in a moment with a broad grin on his face. "It is a French dictionary!" he gasped. "Ned is learning French, so he can talk with the prince in his native tongue!" "The prince isn't French!" Jack declared. "He belongs away in the East somewhere. French is the polite language of Europe, so of course, he's been taught it!" After a time Ned came to the door of the tent and beckoned to Jimmie. "Suppose we go and get some pictures of the mountains," he said, when the boy entered. "We haven't taken a snap-shot since we came here. "I'm strong for it!" Jimmie declared. "We might go and take a few snaps at the counterfeiter's den. That will be fine!" "What's that?" demanded Frank Shaw, poking his nose into the tent. "Going to take pictures of the counterfeiters den! I'm in on that. We'll take a bunch of pictures--enough for a first-page layout--and send 'em in to dad's newspaper. Hot stuff! What? And I'll write the biography of Uncle Ike, and send it in with the rest. His picture ought to go in the center of the layout. He'll be a hero, all right." "All right!" Ned agreed. "We'll go and take the pictures, and we'll send them in when you get the story written! Will that answer?" "Sure it will!" So Ned, Jimmie, and Frank started away laughing, for all knew Frank would never write the story, toward the counterfeiters' cave. When they came in sight of the ridge which jutted out of the slope to make the canyon, and under which the workroom was situated, they saw a man moving northward, keeping close to the jagged summit of the lesser elevation, and looking sharply about as he advanced. "That may be one of them," Jimmie suggested. "I don't believe it!" Frank contradicted. "What do you think, Ned?" he added. "Never saw the outlaws," Ned answered, "so I can't decide the question. Still, I doubt if one of the counterfeiters is within fifty miles of this spot now." "That's the idea!" Frank said. "Of course the shooting of last night would draw out the natives. There'll be dozens around the caves to-day." The boys walked on to the canyon, taking snap-shots of everything they saw. The slope, the canyon, the valley to the west, the green valley to the south, the shallow cave from which the entrance to the workroom gave, all were transferred to films to await development. When at last they entered the shallow cave they paused. "There may be some of them in here yet," Frank suggested. "Not to-day!" Ned replied. "There are too many strangers about!" They entered cautiously. There was now no fire on the stone hearth, and the atmosphere of the place was damp and chill, as well as dark. Here and there a break in the rocky roof above--the ceiling of the apartment was very near to the surface of the outcropping ridge--let in a shaft of light, but for the most part the apartment was in heavy shadows. Ned took out his electric light and turned it enquiringly about the room. Counterfeit money still lay scattered over the floor. The melting pot and the dies were on the cold iron shelf where they had been left, and even a coat hung against the wall. "They got out in a hurry," Jimmie declared. "And they are not likely to come back in a hurry!" Ned added. Frank paced the apartment off, set his camera tripod, and got out his powder. "You boys stand over on the other side," he requested, as he moved back to his tripod, "and when I give the word you, Jimmie, touch off this flash." "What do you want a view of that corner for?" asked Jimmie. "You are too close, anyway, to get a good picture." "I'm going to have a picture of every corner, and the middle, and the roof, and the chimney, and everything about the blooming place!" Frank declared. "Wait a minute!" Jimmie shouted. "I'll hide in the passage we went out of last night, and when you are ready to spring the print I'll look out, with a fierce expression on my pretty face. That will make the picture look like the real brigandish thing. What?" "All right," laughed Frank, "get in there! It is only an excuse for getting your mug into dad's newspaper, but we'll let it go." Frank and Ned busied themselves for half an hour or more, taking pictures and looking over the implements used in the manufacture of spurious coin. At length, when they returned to the outer cave, they remembered that Jimmie had not returned from the west passage to the workroom, and Ned went there to look for him. He was not there, nor was he in any of the niches or shallow openings in the rocky walls. Ned called to him, but he did not reply. Then Frank came running into the passage and joined in the hunt. In vain! Jimmie was nowhere to be found. "Wherever he is," Frank said, after a long search, "he has his camera with him." "I didn't see him have one," Ned replied. "You must be mistaken." "It was the baby camera he had," Frank explained. "He carried it under his coat. The little monkey has doubtless gone off on a picture-making tour of his own." "That is just like him," Ned agreed, "so we'll go on about our business and let him present himself when he gets ready." "He seemed to take quite an interest in that child," Frank suggested, "and he may have gone on to the cabin." "We may as well go that way and thank the old lady for the hens Jack didn't make into a pie," Ned observed. "I'd like another look at that child myself." "Is it the prince, or is it Mike III.?" laughed Frank. Ned smiled, but made no reply, They walked on down the slope and connected with the valley at the south end of the ridge. When they came to the cabin they found Mrs. Mary Brady sitting in the doorway, the child playing on the ground--beaten hard by years of wear--in front of her. She arose as they appeared, and the boy darted off into the fenced garden farther to the south, looking back with a grin from behind the stake-and-rider fence. "Good day to you, young gentlemen," the old lady said. "I hope you passed a pleasant night! The mountain air is good for those who seek sleep." Then it occurred to Ned that neither Bradley nor the child had referred in any way to the shooting of the night before, though, if at the cabin, they must have heard it. He regarded the old lady keenly as he said: "Has any one seen anything of the outlaws to-day?" "The outlaws?" repeated the other. "You heard nothing in the night?" Ned asked. "I thought I heard a gunshot now and then," was the indifferent reply, "but they are too common here to attract attention. Did the shooting disturb you?" Ned did not believe the old lady had slept through the furious fusilades of shots of the night before. What her motive was in ignoring the matter he could not understand, but he decided to set himself right with her and also with her mountain friends by telling of the events of the night. If they were to remain long in that section, it was quite necessary, he thought, that the natives should understand that the boys of the Camera Club were not there to spy on counterfeiters or the moonshiners, if any there were in that region. So he told her that the boys had blundered on the workroom of the counterfeiters, had been suspected of being spies sent by the government and seized, and finally had been released by strategy. He added that they were not there to molest the people of the district, whatever their occupation might be, but to take pictures and have a long vacation in the health-giving mountain air. "And I hope you'll pass the word along," he closed, "so that your friends will not regard us as enemies. We are anxious to meet as many of them as possible, and to be on good terms with them." This was strictly true, as the boys were not there to convict any of the natives, whatever their offenses might be, but to deal with the strangers who had abducted the prince from his home in Washington. Ned was certain that no one belonging in that region had had a hand in the crime, although he suspected that some of them might innocently harbor the outlaws he was in quest of. The old lady listened to Ned's story and his explanation with a startled face. "I'm sure," she said, "that no one belonging here was interested in the counterfeiting gang you boys came upon. I am sure, too, that no one will blame you for what you did. We are law-abiding people, but our mountains constitute a secure refuge for some who are not worthy of protection." Ned was more than pleased at the outcome of the matter, for he was sure the old lady would take pains to set the matter before her friends in the correct light. The conversation soon changed to other subjects. The child did not return, and directly Frank saw him walking along a distant hillside, hand-in-hand with Bradley. "Mr. Bradley seems to stick close to Mike," he said, tentatively. "Never lets him out of his sight," was the reply, and Mrs. Brady seemed to resent the face as stated. She evidently had little of the lad's companionship. When the boys reached the camp Jimmie had not returned, but their chums were gathered around a sheet of letter paper which had, no one knew how, been thrust into the tent. Jack's face was deadly white as he handed it to Ned. "We are up against a black hand game," he said. "Jimmie has been stolen!" CHAPTER XIII THREE DAYS TO MOVE IN Ned took the paper into his hand and read: "You boys are not wanted in the hills. We give you three days to get out. On the morning of the fourth day, if you are still here, we shall send you your friend's right hand. On the fifth day you will receive his left hand. On the sixth day his right foot. On the seventh day his left foot. On the eighth day his head. If you obey this command he will be restored to you, in good health, at Cumberland." "Is it a joke?" asked Frank, white to the lips. "It must be!" cried Jack. "No one would mutilate Jimmie." "It is a coarse joke!" Teddy cut in. "I'm afraid it is no joke, boys," Ned said. "I'm afraid we'll have to go." "But we'll come back again!" shouted Oliver. "We'll come back with a whole company of Boy Scouts! There are enough Boy Scouts in New York to tear these mountains up by the roots!" "But I don't understand how they got him," Teddy wailed. "He went away with you." "He went into a hidden passage to make a picturesque effect," Frank said, "and did not return. We thought it one of his jokes, and paid little attention to his absence. We might have rescued him if we had known." "Of course he was seized in that passage," Dode said. "Did you get the picture he was to be in?" "Sure we did!" cried Frank. "I'll see if he was there when the camera opened." As he spoke the boy made a rush for his suitcase, took out his development tank, printing frame and other tools, and set to work on his film roll. He used two powders instead of one, and in ten minutes was ready for the printing. In a few minutes more he was at work in the tent, with the boys gathered around him. The developer had worked perfectly, notwithstanding the haste, and the printing was well advanced in the soft light of the tent. Directly he had the picture taken in the cave under view--the snapshot of the wall showing the entrance to the secret passage. "Quick work!" Ned declared. "What does it show?" They all gathered around the print, each trying to get the first glance at it. "There's Jimmie!" Teddy shouted. "He was looking out of the door when the picture was taken! I can almost see his freckles!" "There he is, sure enough!" Frank cried. "The little monkey!" Ned took the print and examined it carefully, while the others waited for him to express any discoveries he might make. "Did you see anything back of Jimmie?" he asked of Frank. "Just the dark wall," was the reply. Ned passed the print to him and left the tent. "Yes," Frank said, with a threat in his voice, there's a face looking over Jimmie's shoulder. "Oh, I wish we had known!" "Can you see the face plainly?" asked Teddy. "Quite plainly," was the reply. "The door was open, as you see, and Jimmie stood with his hand on the edge of it, looking at the camera, his head in the room." "Yes; that makes the picture good," Teddy observed. "And there was a slant of light from the passage, and the head of the outlaw shows in that. He's an ugly looking brute!" "Observe the alfalfa on his map!" exclaimed Teddy. "That picture may send him to prison!" Frank cried. "I hope so!" He put the tank, the printing frame, the print, and the other articles away in his suitcase and went out to where Ned was standing. "Did you see the face behind the boy?" asked Frank--"get a good look at it?" "Yes," was the reply. "It shows that this is not a joke! Did you notice the face closely?" "I think so." "What about the beard?" "Quite a growth, I should say." "Anything else odd about it?" persisted Ned. "Not that I saw," was the wondering reply. "What about it?" "It was a false beard! The man was disguised!" Frank's face looked, for an instant, as if he had received a blow. "And I was counting on that beard," he said, "as a means of identification!" "Keep the print safe," Ned advised. "It may be useful in that way yet." "Well," Frank declared, "we've got to go away! We can take no chances on Jimmie being murdered. Isn't that your idea?" "We certainly will take no such chances," Ned responded. "Up to this time we have been successful in getting out of trouble, though, and we may be able to rescue the boy without giving up the search for the abducted lad." "Here's another question," Frank said, "was that note sent by the counterfeiters, or are the men interested in the abduction of the prince resorting to such tactics?" "I have an idea that the abductors are the ones who are doing it," Ned answered. "It may be moonshiners," suggested Frank. "I don't think there are any illicit stills in this district," Ned replied. "Well, we're up against a desperate gang now, anyway," Frank said, "and it looks as if they held the high cards! If we had only suspected what was going on in that passage, we might have rescued the boy before they got him away! "I believe we'll do well to watch Bradley," he suggested. "But Bradley was at the cabin when we got there." "Oh, he had plenty of time to get Jimmie away and get back to the cabin!" Frank insisted. "We remained at the cave half an hour after Jimmie left us, and we took our time in getting to the cottage." "Also we took a great many snap-shots at the scenery," Ned went on. "Now, I wish you would take all the films out of the cameras and develop and print a picture of each." "I'll go right at it," Frank replied, turning back to the tent. "And if any of the boys were taking pictures about the tent, or the corral, have them developed. It may be that one of the snap-shots will show the person who slipped the note into the tent." "I don't see how it was ever done without the man being seen," Frank exclaimed. "But it was done," Ned replied, "and we've got to find out when and how if we can." When Frank left for the tent Ned started on toward the summit. He had traveled only a short distance when Frank came puffing after him. "Here's another print Jack and Teddy took," he said. "It shows something in the cave we never noticed. See if you can tell what it is." Ned glanced at the print and returned it. "There is another opening in the wall at the east side," he said. "The picture shows it. I noticed something there, but neglected to investigate." While the two talked Jack came up the slope, his camera over his shoulder. "I think it is about time for me to be having an outing," he said. "I've been in the camp most of the time since we've been here." "Come along, then," Ned replied. "I'm going back to the cave, and it may be just as well to have some one with me." Frank went down the slope to the tent and Ned and Jack hastened down the slope on the other side. They were busy with their thoughts and for a long time neither spoke. "Of course it is the abductors?" Jack asked, presently. "I have no doubt of it," was the reply. "Do you connect the man Bradley with it?" was the next question. "There is no proof against him," Ned replied. "But you must have some idea about it," persisted Jack. "For all we know," Ned remarked, "he may be entirely innocent in the abduction matter. He may have brought the real grandchild here." "The grandchild!" repeated Jack. "Here's the old question once more: 'Is it the prince, or is it Mike III.?'" "I have the answer to that question written down in my memorandum book," Ned said. "I don't want to show it to you now, because I may be mistaken. When the case is closed I will show you the entry. Then you may laugh at me if you feel like it." "I'd like to see it now," Jack coaxed. "I want all you boys to think for yourselves," Ned went on. "Don't get a theory and pound away at it. If you do, you'll overlook everything which doesn't agree with that theory. If I should show you what I have written, you might look only for clues calculated to prove it to be correct, or you might look only for opposing clues." A second examination of the counterfeiters' cave revealed nothing of importance except that the broken wall on the east side showed a small room into which Jimmie and his captor might have fled after the abduction. Still, there was no proof that they had done so, Ned explained. "Why didn't the little fellow yell?" asked Jack. "I think he would have yelled if that had been possible!" Ned said. The boys left the cave in a short time and passed south, toward the valley and the cabin. Instead of going directly to the cabin, however, Ned kept away to the west and came out south of it, in the section where Bradley had walked with the child. After a time Jack wandered away to the east, so as to come up on that side of the cabin. Although the boys had circled the building, no sign of life had been seen. While Ned was yet some distance away he saw Jack standing on the slope of the valley watching the front door. He walked back and looked in at a small window in the rear wall. The child lay asleep on a bed in one corner of the room, and Mrs. Brady sat by his side. Bradley occupied a chair not far away. "Quite a domestic scene!" Ned muttered. While the boy watched through the window, the old woman arose and left the cabin by the front door. Then Bradley arose, went to a suitcase in a corner by the hearth, took therefrom a small green paper parcel, and went to the cupboard, hanging on the north wall. After feeling about for a time he took out a cup, filled it with warm water from a kettle on the fire and stirred the contents of the green package into it with a brush which he took from a pocket. Ned could not see the contents of the cup, but when the man held the brush up to the light he saw that it was soaked in what seemed to be a black dye. It appeared too thick to suit the taste of the man, and he poured in more water out of the kettle. Then, with the brush wet in one hand and the cup in the other, Bradley drew closer to the bed where the child slept. Ned watched for a few seconds more, then the footsteps of the old lady were heard approaching the door, ringing on the hard earth at the front of it. Ned made another entry in his memorandum book and turned away. CHAPTER XIV POINTING OUT THE TRAIL After leaving the window at the rear of the cabin, Ned moved to the north side, where there was no window at all, and stood there, huddled against the wall, until he heard the old lady enter the house and close the door. Peering around the corner to see that no one was in sight, he crossed the open space swiftly and approached the grove where he had seen Jack. Jack was not in sight, but a round hole cut in the bark of a tree told the direction in which he had gone. In the Indian sign language used by the Boy Scouts this meant: "This is the trail. Keep on in this direction." Wondering what had taken Jack away so suddenly, Ned followed on until he came to an open space where no trees were growing. He, however, kept straight ahead, taking snapshots as he came to desirable scenes. A hundred yards from the edge of the grove he came to a small round stone sitting on top of a large one. Then he walked faster and with more confidence. This, too, said: "This is the trail! Keep on!" It was now after noonday, and the sun poured fiercely down into the valley between the great ridges. There were patches of forest here and there, and now and then the boy came to a field which had been planted to corn. Still, he came upon no human being. The two cabins he saw seemed empty and deserted. Weary and hungry as he was, Ned kept on, now reading the trail sign from a tree, now from a stone, now from a bunch of grass tied at the top, with the ends of the blades sticking straight up. He walked a couple of miles without turning to the right or left, and then found a new signal. The hole in the bole of the tree where the sign stood was accompanied by a long cut in the bark of the left side. This, as plainly as a voice from the thicket could have done, said: "Turn to the left and keep on in that direction until you are further instructed." The turn to the left led Ned up the slope. So the field of action was likely to be in the mountains again! The signs were closer together now, and Ned followed them with faith that he was on the right track. But who had made the trail? Was it Jimmie or Jack? Probably the latter, Ned concluded, for Jimmie would not be likely to have had an opportunity of so blazing his trail, while Jack was free to do so at will. But why had Jack gone away on the trail alone? Why had he not called to him, Ned, in order that they might proceed together? It was possible that the boy might be following some person whom he suspected of the abduction, still that did not seem to be likely, as any one tracking another in the broad light of day, in such a country as that, over open places and rocky elevations, would be almost certain to be discovered. Ned feared the boy was being led into a trap. Finally, almost at the edge of the timber, Ned came to a third sign. There were three holes cut in the bark of a tree, facing the trail he had followed, and on the right side was the familiar slit in the bark. "Turn to the right and be careful, for there may be danger ahead!" That is what the talk on the tree said! To the right lay a rim of trees, facing the bare face of the mountain. Between the trees and the summit lay a long stretch of rocky slope, in some places actually inaccessible to one not an expert in mountain climbing. Obeying the signal, Ned turned to the right and kept under the shelter of the trees. It was very still there, save for the sharp raspings of insects hiding in the foliage and the sleepy call of birds in the sky and in the tops of the trees. The boy made his way through the underbrush for some distance without finding any sign. At a loss what course to pursue, he decided to do nothing! So he sat down in a thicket and waited. And while he waited he took snapshots! His thought, sitting there in suspense, was that Jack might have waited for him at some point on the trail! At best the boy could have been only a half hour ahead of him. He waited an hour, until the sun began to touch the tops of the distant western mountains, and then climbed cautiously up a tree and looked about. Then there came a rustling in the bushes farther to the south, and the low, angry growl of a black bear came up to him! Ned began sliding down the tree at once. That was the call of the Black Bear Patrol! He knew now that Jack was not far off. At the bottom of the tree he found the boy waiting for him! "Say, but I've had a long wait!" Jack complained. "Why didn't you signal before, then?" demanded Ned. "Why, I thought you'd come right on, come on and meet me!" "And you never knew I was here until I climbed the tree?" "Of course not. How should I?" "Well," Ned observed, "we'll know better next time. I presume I should have made a sign myself--the call of the pack, for instance." "Of course," Jack replied. "Now," he went on, "do you know what's doing here?" "I'm in quest of information," Ned grinned. "What have you found?" "I've discovered that the Brady cabin is being watched!" Ned couldn't understand that, and said so. Jack went on: "When I stood in front of the house, two men came out of the canyon and walked down to the tree belt and stopped. They stood there a long time, talking, and then started off in this direction and I followed them." "Are they mountaineers?" asked Ned. "People of this section?" "Certainly not! They are to all appearances city people, at least in dress." "You couldn't hear what they were saying?" asked Ned. "No, but I could get some idea of their thoughts from their gestures. One was kicking about something, and the other was trying to pacify him." "Well, where did they go? Where did you see them last?" asked Ned. "They went up the slope, and disappeared behind that chimney of rock. I've got pictures of that rock!" "This looks like a three-cornered game!" Ned mused. "What do you mean by that?" asked Jack. "Where are the three interests?" "We'll probably have to come back here tonight," Ned went on, without answering the question. "We can never get up that slope in daylight without attracting their attention." "We must be at least four up-hill miles from camp," Jack calculated. "All of that," answered Ned. "It is a long walk there and back." "Then why not remain here?" asked Jack. "I'm hungry, but I'm more in need of rest than food just now. We can lie here in the thicket until night, and then creep up the slope and see what's doing." "I was about to suggest that," Ned observed, "but I thought you'd be ravenous for the sight of a camp dinner!" "I have a hunch," Jack declared, after a time, "that Jimmie is somewhere in this section! I don't know why, but when I saw those men, strangers, evidently, walking so stealthily over the country I got the hunch! Then I followed them, because I thought I might get a clue to the boy's whereabouts by so doing." "If the boy is here," Ned replied, grimly, "we'll find him!" "Of course we'll find him! That's what we are here for!" The boys thus encouraging each other crawled deeper into the thicket and lay down. They were more than tired, worse than hungry, but they never thought of sleep, or of leaving their post of observation. The afternoon passed slowly, the boys taking snapshots now and then. "The boys will be thinking we've been geezled!" Jack said. "I wish they knew where to find us. There's no knowing what they will do, they're so anxious about Jimmie. And if they scatter over the country others may be captured." "They usually show good sense in emergencies," Ned commented. When the first tint of twilight came, the boys crept to the edge of the thicket and sat looking out on the mountain. There was the broken way to the summit, and there was the chimney rock behind which the men had disappeared, but no human being was, for a long time im sight. Then a small figure came swinging down the slope, off to the north, and presently came opposite to where the boys lay. Jack seized Ned by the arm and pointed. "Is it the prince, or is it Mike III?" he asked. Ned got out his field glass and studied the face and figure until, whistling some childish discord, the boy turned back and disappeared in the direction of the cabin. "What is that boy doing off here alone?" asked Jack, then. "Keep watch of the chimney rock," Ned advised. "But what do you think of it?" demanded Jack. "How did that boy get up here?" "If you see any one moving up there," Ned went on, provokingly, "let me know." "Oh, look here!" Jack insisted, half angrily, "what's the use of shutting up like a clam? What is your idea about that boy? We've never seen him before except in Bradley's company. Do you think he ran away? Why can't we go and get him and hold him until Jimmie is released?" "So you think the men who have taken Jimmie are the men who are conducting the abduction game?" asked Ned. "Yes, don't you?" "I have written the answer to that down in my little book," smiled Ned, "and when the right time comes I'll show it to you." "Well, if we are going to catch the boy we'll have to be moving." "We are not going to catch the boy." Jack threw himself down on the ground in disgust. "You're the Secret Service man," he said, "and I presume you know what you are about, but it looks to me as if you had been reading a dream book, or something like that." "Why should we catch the child?" asked Ned. "To hold him! To be able to say to the outlaws that we hold the top hand!" "And trade the child for Jimmie, as you suggested?" "Why, of course!" "That would make a failure of our mission, me son!" "But it would save Jimmie's life." It was now growing quite dark in the valley, especially where the tree growth was heavy, but upon the slope objects might still be clearly distinguished some distance away. While the boys watched the child came out of the thicket to the north and began ascending the mountain, walking with a light, springing step, as if out for exercise after a long and tiresome confinement. "Now keep your eye on the mountain," Ned requested. In a moment a column of smoke arose from behind the chimney rock. The boys watched it intently and the child with it, for he was now approaching the rock. "Cooking supper!" remarked Jack. "I wish they would pass it around!" "Does it take two fires to cook supper up there?" asked Ned, with a smile. Jack half arose in his excitement, but Ned drew him down again. "Jimmie's up there!" he whispered. "There's the Boy Scout call for help!" CHAPTER XV A NIGHT ON THE SUMMIT "Now," Ned said, as the signal columns died down, "we'll hike back to camp with our pictures and get supper! How does that strike you?" Jack turned toward Ned impatiently. There was not light enough for his face to show clearly, but Ned knew how the boy was scowling! "And go off and leave Jimmie here?" Jack said. "I'd like to know what you're thinking of! Why have you changed your mind? I'm going to stay here until it gets good and dark and then go up there." "You may spoil all my plans if you attempt to reach him to-night," Ned replied, in a matter-of-fact tone. "On the way back I want to stop at the cabin a moment." "All right," Jack grumbled. "I suppose I'll have to go with you! When are you thinking of rescuing Jimmie? After they send us one of his hands?" "Don't be sarcastic," laughed Ned. "You'll understand it all before long." Jack was not at all pleased with the idea of returning to camp, and said so repeatedly as they walked along both keeping in the thicket as far as possible, but Ned seemed to take no offense at his remarks. "What I can't get through my head," Jack finally said, changing the topic of conversation, "is why they let us travel through here without nipping us." "I have an idea," Ned answered, "that they are pretty busy just now." "Well, what was the use of our going at all if we sneak away as soon as we get where we might accomplish something?" demanded the boy, reverting to the old subject. "You did a good job in finding and following them," Ned replied, ignoring the question, "and another good job in showing me the way. We have accomplished more than you think! I'm anxious for the end to come, so you'll know just how much you have accomplished! There is the cabin light," he added. The boys walked boldly up to the door and Ned knocked. Mrs. Brady looked out with a welcoming smile on her faded face. She invited them in and tried to appear pleased at their visit, but Ned saw that she was under a great mental strain. Judd Bradley sat by the hearth, with the child by his side. He smiled when Ned nodded to him and pointed to a chair. "Pardon my not arising," he said. "The fact is that I'm a bit leg-weary to-night. This little chap ran away to-day, and I had a long chase after him!" "We were worried about him," Mrs. Brady added. "Aw, what's the matter wid youse folks, anyway?" demanded the boy, in a strident tone. "I didn't promise to sit in a chair an' play wid a cat all day!" "I've had quite a busy day myself," Ned observed, "for one of the boys has been abducted by the counterfeiters, as I suppose, and we've been looking for him." "Have you found him?" asked the old lady, anxiously. "No," was the reply. "He must be securely hidden." "The poor little fellow!" Ned glanced casually at Bradley and saw that he was all interest. "It seems," he went on, "that the counterfeiters blame us for what took place last night, and want us to leave the district. If we do they will send the boy out to us unharmed, at least that is what they promise." "I don't see how they can blame you for the trouble of last night," Bradley said, and Ned caught a tone of irony in his voice. "That's what I can't see," Ned went on, "but it seems that they do." "And so they have ordered you out of the hills?" asked Bradley. "That's too bad, just as we were getting well acquainted. But, then, you don't have to go!" "I think we'll go," Ned replied. "There are other localities where we can take pictures, and we can't afford to take any chances on the boy being injured." "Sorry to have you go," Bradley remarked, "but that may be the wisest course." "We think so," Ned replied. "Anyway, we're going day after to-morrow, in time to meet Jimmie at Cumberland. I think we can get packed up and out by that time." "Shall we see you again before you go?" asked the old lady, anxiously. "Oh, I presume so. I am going now to leave a note in the cave, saying that we are going out, and then on to camp." When the boys stepped outside the cabin the old lady followed as far as the threshold standing with her gray head outside. "I'm sorry," she said. "If there is anything I can do--" Jack stood a couple of yards away, whistling shrilly. At a word from Ned the old lady stepped out into the open air, half closing the door after her. From the inside came the heavy tread of Bradley approaching the door. But before the visitor gained the threshold Ned and Mrs. Bradley had exchanged half a dozen short sentences, and when Bradley looked out she was saying. "I shall look for you if you ever come this way again." "I'll surely be back, some bright day!" laughed Ned, and the two boys walked on. "Well," Jack said, as they left the cabin behind, "of all the fire-proof, enthusiastic, gilt-edged, slicky-slick members of the Ananias club I ever heard mentioned, you certainly take the bakery! What did you go and tell Bradley we were going out for?" "Because," Ned answered, "we are going out." "Not by day after to-morrow?" "I hope so! We ought to get ready by that time!" "I don't ask any more questions!" grumbled Jack. "I don't know hot from cold! I'm deaf and dumb and blind from this minute on. Uncle Ike has a classical education in comparison with what I know. Go to it, Neddie, boy!" They stopped at the cave and Ned wrote a note to the effect that they were going out inside the limit set, placed it in a conspicuous place on the shelf with the dies, and then the two boys set out for camp. It was a long, hard climb, but they made it before the boys were in their bunks. "You're a nice party!" Frank exclaimed, as Ned came up. "We thought you had been pinched! There's plenty of hot supper in the oven for you, but you don't deserve a thing! Square yourself!" "Don't ask him a single question!" grumbled Jack. "He won't tell you a thing! We've been within sight of a signal from Jimmie this afternoon, and we've had a chance to tell the outlaws where they can go, but he's muffed every play! I'm going to eat and go to bed!" Jack really was out of temper, so no objections were made to his going to his bunk as soon as he had finished supper! Ned laughed good-naturedly at the boy's remarks and thought no more about them. Frank came and sat down by Ned while the latter was eating a hearty supper. "The worry doesn't seem to affect your appetite!" the boy laughed. "Have you solved the riddle, that you are so calm through it all? If you have, just tell me this: "Is it the prince, or is it Mike III.?" "I've written the answer to that in my little red book," laughed Ned. Frank eyed the other with a grin, but made no reply for a time, then he merely said: "You are up to your old tricks! Well, what is on for to-night?" "Why," Ned answered, "if you would like a stroll by moonlight, I think we might get a good view of the south country from the top of the mountain." "I don't know what you're up to," Frank answered, springing to his feet, "but I'm game for anything. I've been eating my heart out all day." "What about the prints?" asked Ned. "They are remarkably good," Frank replied, "but there are no special features. In one picture, taken down in the canyon, there is a face that we did not see, though." "What sort of a face?" "A strange one to me. But I'll show them all to you in the morning. When are you going out for that stroll in the moonlight?" "In two hours. That will be about midnight. Between now and that time I'm going to get a little sleep. Wake me at twelve, will you--and, by the way, say nothing to the others about it. They'll all want to go! We can notify whoever is on watch when we get ready to start." Ned hastened to his bunk and lay down. Five minutes later, when Frank looked in, he was studying a French dictionary by the light of his electric candle. Ten minutes later he was sound asleep. At twelve the boys were ready to start, and Teddy, who was on watch, was warned to keep wide awake and listen for noises from the south. "If you hear shooting," Ned said, "two of you jump on Uncle Ike and charge along the summit to the south. Make all the noise you can! Don't go down the slope, but keep to the summit." "Now where?" asked Frank, as they walked over the rocks and wound around jutting crags. "If you'll give me time I'll take some moonlight pictures for Dad's newspapers. He must be expecting some by this time!" "Poor old Dad!" laughed Ned. "By this time he must have given up sitting around the New York postoffice, waiting for your pictures to come!" "I'm going to send him some on this trip, sure!" declared the boy. "He deserves them, you know, and his newspaper needs them! Besides, we are planning another Boy Scout trip, and I shall want a whole lot of money!" "I see!" cried Ned. "You are casting an anchor to windward!" "In other words," grinned Frank, "I'm laying the foundation for another appropriation! I'm going to send on some of the pictures of the counterfeiters' den!" The summit of the ridge was by no means a level pathway. There were peaks, canyons, gulleys and twistings to east and west which caused the boys to travel two miles or more for every mile they advanced toward the point where the two men Jack had followed had taken refuge. It was about two o'clock in the morning when they came in sight of the chimney rock which Ned had noted on the trip of the afternoon. It rose from the west slope of the mountain like a tower, tall, bulky, forbidding. Looking down upon it from the east, Ned saw that there was a small canyon in between it and the slope, much the same as the formation near the cave of the counterfeiters. It was evident that the rock had been cast down from the summit, and had caught there--on a projecting ridge of stone. "Looks like a fortress!" Frank whispered as the rock sparkled in the light of the moon. "Notice the campfire in the canyon?" "There were two there this afternoon," Ned said, "and we thought one of them was there simply to make the second column--the Boy Scout call for assistance." "If Jimmie isn't tied up hand and foot," Frank suggested, "if he is allowed to move about, under guard, and help in the cooking, he could easily build two fires, and the outlaws wouldn't know what he was up to. That is how Dode came to signal to us, you remember. The counterfeiters never suspected that he was making Indian talk!" "I think it was Jimmie," Ned declared. "He would find some way to make the signal, if he wasn't tied hard and fast! Anyway," the boy added, "I'm going down the slope right now to see if he is there!" CHAPTER XVI THE CALL OF THE PACK Ned and Frank stood in the shadow behind a protecting rock and peered down into the moonlit canyon for a long time. At first there was no one in sight below, but presently a man came out by the fire, which was burning low now. It appeared to the boys that he must have crawled out from under the chimney rock itself! He appeared so suddenly that they knew that, at least, there must be an underground hiding place in which he had been concealed when they had first come in view of the canyon and the rock. The man mended the fire, gathering up the ends of the logs and limbs which had burned through in the middle and placing them back on the coals. Then he opened a box which he had brought from some out-of-sight place and took out canned food and cooking utensils. He was evidently going to get an early breakfast. Presently a second man joined the first arrival, and they sat down by the fire to wait for water in a great pot to boil. At least, the boys supposed that they were waiting for it to boil. "I'd like to know what they are talking about," Frank said. "I'm going to see if I can get close enough to them to find out." "I was just thinking of that myself," Ned responded, "so we may as well be on our way. Keep your gun handy, but don't shoot unless one of them seizes you." "I'll take good care they don't get hold of me," Frank answered. "Say," he went on, "if Jimmie is there, he must be in some hole under that rock--the one they came out of! If they turn away, I may be able to get in there and see." "Wait until there is little danger of detection," Ned advised. "We don't know how many men there are in the party, remember." The boys walked softly back to the north, keeping ridges and outcropping rocks between the canyon and themselves, and then crept softly down the slope so as to come out at the north end of the little cut. The men they were watching were frying bacon and boiling coffee now, and appeared to be thoroughly occupied with their tasks. In a few moments both boys were within hearing, distance. The men were not talking much, however. In fact, they both seemed to be harboring a grouch, from the infrequent low, grumbling complaints which the boys overheard. "I'm through with the bunch after this!" one of the men said. "I'm not going to do all the work and let some one else draw all the money." "It is time we got out of here anyway," the other said. "Those fresh boys were around here this afternoon." "Why didn't you plug them if you knew they were here?" demanded the other. Frank nudged Ned in the side with his fist. "Cheerful sort of people!" he said. "I'm looking to see something start soon." "I didn't know at the time that they were here!" the man replied, with a snarl. "I'm no Indian sleuth. After they left I started through the grove and found their tracks. Good thing for them that I saw their tracks instead of their heads!" "Well," the other grunted, "if we are agreed that it is time for us to get out, why don't we get out? I'm not going to take all the chances! Why don't the others come? They won't come, and that's all there is to it. They're waiting for us to do the job! Then they'll claim the pay." By this time the bacon was crisp and the coffee was simmering fragrantly in the pot and the two men fell to with an appetite. Frank watched them eat with an appetite of his own, rubbing his stomach and trying to show how near the point of starvation he was, although it had been only a short time since he had eaten a hearty meal! "They don't trust us!" one of the men muttered, at length. "We haven't got a thing on them, if they see fit to welch on us," the other admitted. "But if we obey orders, they will have so much on us that we won't dare say a word, even if they make us walk back and buy our own meals on the way!" "Is it agreed, then, that we're going to cut it?" asked one. "If it is, we may as well go now as at any future time." "All right." "Now?" asked the other. "Why not? It will soon be daylight." "Good idea, for we can't be seen trailing that kid along with us in the broad light of day," was suggested. "Let's move right now!" "Now," whispered Frank, "do they mean Jimmie, when they speak of the kid, or some one else? And if they are speaking of some one else, here's a question: Is it the prince, or is it Mike III.?" "It seems to me," Ned whispered back, "that I've heard something like that before." "Well, get the kid out and feed him!" one of the men commanded. "We've got to keep him with us until we get pay for what we have already done." "Now we'll know!" Frank suggested, as one of the men turned toward the rock. "If it is Jimmie we'll soon know it. What?" They were not long kept in doubt. Jimmie shot out of a hole under the rock like an arrow in full flight and squatted down by the fire. Frank snickered when he saw the boy, and turned hastily away toward a ledge which showed back to the north. While Ned was wondering what the boy was up to, the long, vicious whine of a wolf reached his ears. The call died away slowly, and was followed by silence, then by the snarling call of the pack! The men by the fire started to their feet and seized their revolvers. Jimmie jumped away from the blaze and held up his hands, bound tightly together. "Cut me loose!" he cried. "Are you going to let the wolf come and eat me?" "There are no wolves in these mountains," declared one of the men. "That was a signal of some kind!" "I've seen wolves since we came in here," Jimmie declared, telling the exact truth, at that, only the wolves he referred to belonged to the Wolf Patrol, Boy Scouts of America! "They're fierce wolves, too!" he added. Frank crawled back to Ned's side and lay laughing at the commotion the signal had caused in the little camp. The men hastened their packing, and one of them who had been about to give Jimmie his breakfast snatched the bread and bacon away and put them in a pack he was making up. "Here!" the boy shouted. "You give me the eats! Think I'm going to travel over these mountains with me tummy abusing me for not doing the right thing by it?" "You're lucky to have any tummy!" snarled one of the men. "Aw, give the kid his breakfast!" commanded the other. The men quarreled and growled at each other while the packing was going on, and Jimmie sat looking around for some sign of the Boy Scout who had given the signal. In half an hour they were ready, and then Jimmie was ordered to move on. "If you try to run away," he was informed, "you'll be chased by a bullet. We have no time to fool with you! Just keep a pace or two in advance, and march straight ahead and you'll have no trouble. Get along, now!" "But where's the prince?" asked Frank. "I thought we were going to find the royal prince here!" "The prince of what?" asked Ned. "The prince of the slums or the prince of a little patch of ground over the sea?" "Blessed if I know," Frank commented. "See me throw a scare into those bums!" The men stopped still in their tracks when the ugly snarl of a bear came to them out of the darkness. Frank did himself proud in the manner in which he put out the bear talk. The men were surely frightened. "Now there's a bear!" wailed Jimmie, although Ned thought he caught a note of fun in his voice. "Don't you know these hills are full of bears? We saw some at our camp last night," he added, "eating bread and honey!" "Bear nothing!" shouted one of the men. "There ain't a bear within a hundred miles of this place! This is some trick!" Again the fierce, angry snarl of the bear! Ned caught Frank by the arm to keep him quiet, but the boy finished the bear talk he had begun. Then Jimmie hastened matters by breaking away and running toward the rock from which the sound had proceeded. Both men took after him, but a shot from Frank's gun caused them to halt. They stood still for an instant, their figures tense and tall, and then turned and ran, almost tumbling over each other in their fright! They did not stop at slight declivities. They leaped gulleys and almost fell into canyons which split the summits. In vain Ned called to them to halt, that they would not be injured. They ran like race horses, and were soon out of sight. Frank and Jimmie were rolling on the ground in their delight. Ned looked grave and annoyed. Without speaking he looked over the camp where the men had cooked the breakfast and then returned to the boys. "I am sorry for that," he said, mildly. "I wanted to put those men through the third degree! We should have held them up and put on the handcuffs." "You didn't say so!" observed Frank sheepishly. "No use to talk about it now," Ned declared. "Perhaps Jimmie knows what we expected to learn from them." "All I know is that the bums got me at the cave and tied me up," Jimmie said. "How many men have you seen in the party?" asked Ned. "Just those two. They were always talking about some one else coming in, but I never saw any one else." "What did they talk about?" asked Ned. "They were trying, most of the time, to make me admit that the Camera Club was a secret service organization," laughed the lad. "Of course I denied it!" "What did they say about a child?" "Not one word! I kept my ears open for that kind of talk!" "Did they have a boy with them at any one time?" asked Ned. "This afternoon, or yesterday afternoon, rather, I saw a kid moving about on the slope. I was cooking, and built two fires so as to make a signal. Did you see it?" "Yes, we saw it," answered Ned, "but did not reply to it for the reason that we feared discovery. We wanted to come here in the night and release you and capture the two outlaws! But what sort of a child was it that you saw?" "Why, it was the kid from the cabin. Say, Ned," he added, with a wink at Frank, "is that the prince, or is it Mike III.?" "Cut it out!" roared Frank. "We've heard enough of that." Ned laid a hand on the shoulder of each boy. "That shot attracted attention," he whispered, "or the runaways are coming back. I hear some one tramping over rock, and a moment ago I caught the gleam of a gun barrel." "Then it's me for a hole to crawl into!" whispered Jimmie. "I've had troubles of my own for the past few hours! Say, but I'm hungry, boys." The boys left their place of retreat just as a couple of bullets spattered on rock. CHAPTER XVII JUST A LITTLE DARK WASH More shots were fired, but the boys were soon out of range. A flush of pink was showing in the sky now, and the sun would be up in half an hour. Jimmie looked longingly toward the camp, and Ned turned his footsteps that way. "Speaking of quitters," Jimmie said, as they moved along, "the two men who geezled me take the bun! They quarreled all the time because some one else didn't come and do something they wanted done! No wonder they ducked when one shot was fired!" "About the boy you saw yesterday afternoon," Ned asked. "Are you sure it was the lad who was brought to our camp?" "Of course it was!" "Dressed just the same?" "Just exactly." "Why didn't you take a picture of him?" asked Frank. "Huh, don't you ever think I didn't," was the reply. "I've got it in my camera now. When we get to camp I'll develop it and print some. I've got pictures of the men, too, and about everything around the hole in the ground where they hid me." "That is as it should be!" Ned declared. "But how did you do it!" "They are easy!" was all the reply Jimmie made. A quarter of a mile away from the chimney rock Ned paused and looked back. "I can't understand where those men went to," he said. "My friends do you mean?" asked Jimmie with a grin. "They're going on a hop yet." "No; the men who did the shooting," said Ned. "Well," Jimmie went on, in a minute, "there is a place somewhere near the rock where some friends of the men who ran are camping. I heard them talking together." "You little rascal!" Ned exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me that before?" "Oh, you won't find them there now!" Jimmie advised. "I'll bet they ducked when we got away. They won't remain around here now." "Are they counterfeiters?" asked Frank. "They're bums from the city, brought here in connection with the abduction of the prince!" laughed Jimmie. "How did you manage to cook and take pictures when you were tied up like a fish for shipment?" asked Frank. "They didn't tie me up for a time, for I gave them a lot of talk about liking their society," was the answer. "They just watched me. When it came night and they wanted to sleep, they put the harness on!" "That was careless of them," declared Frank, "not to tie you up tight." "They're just cheap bums," Jimmie insisted. "They couldn't kidnap a bird in a cage." The sun was up when the boys reached the camp, and Teddy was getting breakfast. The arrival of Jimmie was hailed with manifestations of joy, as may well be supposed. The boys clustered around him excitedly, and even Uncle Ike, from the corral, sent forth a he-haw greeting. The breakfast Teddy prepared for him was a wonder! The meal was scarcely finished when Bradley came sauntering into the camp. He stopped suddenly when he saw Jimmie. Watching him closely, Ned saw that he was dismayed as well as astonished. However, he soon came forward with a set smile on his face and took the boy by the hand. "You're lucky," he said, "to get out of the clutches of the counterfeiters so soon. I was afraid something serious might have happened to you. How did you do it?" "Ned came after me," was the only reply the boy made. "We've decided to go away," Ned explained, "and so they gave him up, after a short argument." "With a gun!" whispered Jimmie to the others. Bradley loitered about the camp for a long time, asking questions and talking of a great many things which did not interest the lads at all. "And so you are going out to-morrow?" he asked, arising to go. "We expect to," Ned replied soberly. "Perhaps I'll meet you outside somewhere," Bradley laughed. "I hope so!" Ned replied, whispering an aside to Frank. Frank walked away toward the tent, and directly, while Bradley's face was in clear outline, Ned heard the click of a shutter and knew that the snapshot had been made. When Bradley at last started away Ned called the boys together and asked them if it wouldn't be a good idea for them to take a prisoner--just to equalize things! "Bradley?" asked Frank and Jimmie in chorus. "That's the man," laughed Ned. "Do you think you could head him off and hide him in some out-of-the way hole in the ground?" "What for?" demanded Jack. "I don't see what you want to do that for." "Just for the fun of it!" Jimmie exclaimed. "I'll guard him after he is taken!" he added, with an appealing look at Ned. "Well," Ned went on, nodding at Jimmie, "I have an idea that if two of you work down the slope and come out ahead of him you can coax him to throw up his hands easily enough." "Then, after that, if you leave it to me," Jack continued, "you'll go down to the cabin and get the prince and start away with him!" "You're sure it is the prince?" asked Ned. "Of course! I should think any one with sense could see that. Just see how suspiciously the kid is watched! Of course, if you want to take the abductor along too, why that will be all right, but I'd get the prince first!" "That's good advice," Ned declared, seeking to conciliate the boy, "and I'll go down to the cabin now and look after that end of the game!" "If things work this way," laughed Oliver, "I guess we _will_ get away to-morrow!" "Why don't you let me go with the boys and help capture that stiff?" asked Jack, speaking to Ned. "He may be armed and perfectly willing to shoot." "We have messed things up a bit here," Ned answered, "so whatever we do must be done at once. I have another little errand to do while they capture Bradley!" "Oh, we'll get him, all right!" Frank insisted. "You bet we will!" Jimmie added. "I'll tie him up tight, too! He won't take no pictures while he is my prisoner." "Perhaps he won't have a baby camera hidden under his coat! laughed Frank. "What are you going to say to him, boys, when you take him?" asked Teddy. "We ain't going to say anything," Jimmie answered, "We're just going to get him!" "Be careful, boys," was all Ned said as Frank and Jimmie left on their dangerous mission. "Be careful!" After they had disappeared up the slope Ned turned to Jack. "You saw one act of the play yesterday," he said to him. "Suppose you come with me now and see another act." Jack came forward with outstretched hand and downcast face. "Say, Ned," he said, "I'm sore at myself!" "What's that for?" Ned asked, shaking the hand heartily and lifting the boy's face by taking him by the chin. "Why are you sore at yourself?" "Because I acted like a dunce when we left chimney rock without signaling to Jimmie," was the reply, "and because I grumbled like a bear with a sore head when you suggested that Bradley be captured." "You had a perfect right to express your opinion, my boy," Ned said. "Yes, but I might have known that you knew what you were about. To be honest, I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you bringing Jimmie back." "The least demonstration on our part at that time," Ned said, then, "might have caused the men who were guarding Jimmie to shift their quarters. Besides, I wanted Bradley in the toils before I made the final break." "But he wasn't when you released Jimmie," Jack suggested. "He will be before the final card is laid down," Ned replied. "But come," he went on, "we must be moving if we get to the cottage before the trouble begins." "I'm all in the dark," Jack said, "but I'm willing to take your judgment now." Ned and Jack hastened away, traveling down the slope to the west and south so as to get to the cottage in the quickest possible time. When they came in sight of the structure they saw Mary Brady sitting in the doorway, her head bent forward, her face buried in the palms of her hands. She arose at the sound of their footsteps and advanced with outstretched hands to meet them. There were tears on her face and her manner was excited. "You came too late!" she cried, wringing Ned's hand. "They have taken him away." "When?" asked Ned, leading the old lady into the cabin. "Oh, I don't know when! Sometime in the night. I awoke and saw that the bed was empty and called to Bradley. He arose and has been looking for him ever since." "He was just up at our camp--looking!" Ned said, with a wink at Jack. The old lady now went to a cupboard and brought forth a glass in which a dark fluid rested. A small black brush stood against the side of the vessel. "I found this for you, as you asked," she said. Ned examined the contents of the glass and made a mark on a white paper with the brush. The color transmitted to the paper was a light brown, not black. "You washed the boy, as I asked you to?" Ned then enquired. "I tried to," was the reply, "but Bradley said he would take him out and give him a swim in the run down in the valley. He wouldn't let me touch him." "Well, what did the pillow case show this morning?" The old lady pointed to the white paper. "It was stained like that," she said. During this talk Jack had been standing looking from Ned to the old lady with all shades of expression on his face. Now he spoke. "Say, Ned," he almost gasped, "what is the meaning of all this?" "Wait a minute!" Ned said, facing the old lady again. "And you listened to their talk when they sat together last night?" "Indeed I did, sir, and its the first time I ever played the spy!" "What was Bradley saying to him?" asked Ned, then. "He was saying French words over and over for him to repeat!" Jack dropped into a chair and looked helplessly at his chum. "Foolish little French phrases, like one finds at the back of any dictionary?" asked Ned. "He was repeating them so that the boy could say them after him?" "Yes, sir, that is just it." "Now, Jack, what about your prince of the royal blood?" asked Ned. "I gather from what I hear that he was painted," said Jack, with a shamed look in his eyes. "Painted!" "Sure he was!" cried the woman. "Painted and taught foolish little French words to say! But he is Mike's boy! I know that!" "This is like the Arabian Nights!" Jack cried. "Worse!" Ned declared, "for all my plans have gone wrong with the disappearance of the boy." CHAPTER XVIII BRADLEY BECOMES INDIGNANT Frank and Jimmie hastened down the slope to the west, after toiling up and crossing the broken summit, and soon caught sight of the man they had been instructed to take prisoner. Bradley was walking swiftly, his haste not at all matching the leisurely air he had affected at the camp. "How do you feel now?" asked Jimmie, wrinkling his nose at Frank. "How does it seem to be a bold, bad gunman?" "I think it is a little shivery," Frank answered. "When I get back to New York," he went on, "I'm going to write a story for Dad's newspaper entitled: 'Desperate Desmonds I have Shot Up in the Hills.' That title ought to make a hit on the East Side, south of First street!" "I feel like a second-story man, and a gopher-worker, and a train-robber, and a confidence operative all rolled into one!" Jimmie admitted. "This holding people up is new exercise for us! Say, will you agree to let me push the gun into his face?" "We'll both have guns, you little highway-man!" Frank replied. "You needn't think I'm going to look on and miss all the fun!" "Then you let me tie him up!" coaxed Jimmie. "I won't tie him very tight, just so he can't breathe, and so his blood won't circulate!" "You're the fierce little bandit!" declared Frank. "Well, the gang he belongs to tied me up!" complained the boy. "I'm going to get even on this geek! We can walk right down on him at any time now. He'll never suspect that we're pirates." "First," Frank observed, "I'd like to know where he is going so fast." "He may go so fast that he'll get to friends before we harness him!" warned Jimmie. "Then we couldn't get him at all, but might, instead, get geezled ourselves." "There seems to be a little sense left in that head of yours," Frank laughed, "even if your friends do think it is solid bone! So we'd better skip along and take him under our protection before we have an army to fight. Say, but won't he take a tumble to himself when he finds himself stuck up by two boys?" Not withstanding their half-humorous talk concerning what they were about to do, the boys both realized that they were facing a serious situation. They had every confidence in Ned's judgment, still they had no knowledge of Bradley which seemed to them to warrant the bold step they were about to take. Jimmie was under the impression that Bradley belonged to the coterie which had taken him prisoner, but he had no proof of it. Bradley had been, apparently, accepted by Mrs. Mary Brady, and that seemed a good recommend for him. Still, there were the instructions, and they were resolved to carry them out. Neither expressed to the other his secret thought on the subject. "Where are we going to hide him, after we take him?" asked Jimmie, after a time, during which the lads had managed by hard work to decrease the distance between themselves and Bradley. "How about the old counterfeiters' den?" "That's the first place his friends will look for him! No, sir, we've got to find a little retreat of our own, and one of us must guard him. Do you know how long Ned wants to keep him?" asked Frank. "Don't know a thing about it," was the reply. "I don't even know why he wants him captured, or what proof he has against him." The boys were now not far away from Bradley, and, hearing the rattle of broken rock behind him, he turned and looked back at the boys, who were swinging along with their hands in their pockets. He waited for them to come up. "Taking a little walk, eh?" he questioned, as the boys came to the level space on the mountainside where he had paused. Bradley seemed to be entirely unconscious of danger, for he turned his back to the boys presently, after a few short sentences had passed between them, and moved forward, as if to continue his way down the slope. "Just a minute!" Frank said, sharply, and he faced them. Two automatic revolvers were within a foot of his head, and the eyes of the boys back of them declared that the situation was not the result of a joke. "Hold out your hands!" Jimmie ordered. "We want to see if you're toting any smoke-wagons! Push 'em out, Mister!" Bradley did not hesitate a second. His hands went out like a flash. There was a smile on his lips as Jimmie removed his revolver, but his jaw was threatening. "And so you are just common thieves?" he said. "Aw, quit it!" Jimmie answered. "We're taking care of you so you won't fall over a precipice and hurt yourself." "You'll find very little money on me," Bradley went on. "I've sent in to the city for a couple of hundred. You ought to have waited a few days." "We don't want your money," Frank cut in, "all we want is the benefit of your society for a time." Bradley flushed angrily when Jimmie adroitly snapped a pair of handcuffs on his outstretched wrists, but he made no protest. "Now you can put down your hands," Jimmie announced. "They'll get stiff if you hold 'em out too long. Now, sit down and pick out your hotel. You may have a room in most any section of this district. Immaterial to us where we put you!" "What does it mean?" demanded Bradley. "I presume you boys know what you are doing. There's law in this state, as wild as this country looks to be. You'll get years behind prison bars for this." "Before I forget it," Jimmie asked, with a wink at Frank, "I want you to tell me something. Will you?" "That depends. What is it you want to know?" "This: Is the boy down at the cabin the prince, or is he Mike III?" The eyes of both boys were fixed keenly on Bradley's face as the question was put. So far as they could see, it did not change a particle in color or expression. "That's a queer question for you to ask," he said. "You'd better asked Mrs. Brady whether it is her grandson or not! And I don't know what you mean, talking about a prince. I haven't seen any prince about here--except the prince of the son of thieves!" "So you won't tell, eh?" asked Frank. "The boy I brought in is Michael Brady, son of the son of Mrs. Brady." Sitting on the level space half way down to the outcropping ledge which held the workroom of the counterfeiters, Bradley looked anxiously in the direction of the canyon. Jimmie noted the look and took out his field glass. People were moving about in the canyon, and down in the valley to the south, where the cabin stood, something out of the ordinary seemed to be going on. "You are expecting friends?" asked Frank. "They are liable to come any minute," was the cool reply. "Then we'd better be going," Jimmie cut in. "There are men in the canyon, and in the valley, and they may be coming up here to find out why you don't meet them, as per agreement! Are they good waiters? If they are, you may find them still in the valley after you've served a couple of terms in a Federal prison!" "Be careful what you say," warned Bradley. "I'm in your power now, but there'll come a time when I won't be. Remember that!" Jimmie's glass showed him that the men below were starting up the slope. "We'll go back toward camp," he said to Frank. "I guess the fellows down there are watching us through glasses. If you don't mind," he added, turning to Bradley with a provoking laugh, "we'll stow you away in a hole in the rocks somewhere until they get tired of looking for you!" "Go as far as you like!" was the reply. Frank and Jimmie stepped aside and conversed together in low tones, trying to make up their minds what to do with the prisoner. It had taken little trouble to capture him, but it seemed to them that it would be no easy matter to hold him. "There's a cute little dip in the summit not far from the camp," Frank said, at length. "A boulder tumbled out of the slope, and there's a cave big enough to hide three in, only there is a part of it which has no roof." "Don't mind that!" Bradley said, in a sarcastic tone. "We won't have a long residence in any place you select now." "The summit is spotted with queer little openings where soft rock has been washed out," Frank said, "and we can locate not far from the camp if we want to." "I suppose you boys are doing this under the orders of this Nestor boy?" asked Bradley. "When you get to him, kindly ask him to call on me. I want to know what all this means." "Let's see, what was it you said about the child you brought in with you?" asked Jimmie, wrinkling his freckled nose until it did not seem possible to ever get it out straight again, "what was it you said his name was? Was it Prince Abductable or Mike the Third?" Bradley scowled but said nothing. The boys now set off up the slope with their prisoner. Now and then they turned to look into the canyon and the valley below. The men they had observed in the canyon were slowly ascending. There were four of them, and it seemed to the boys that they were examining every foot of the ground they covered. Bradley looked downward, too, and a smile came to his face as he did so. It was plain that he expected help from that quarter. The boys walked as swiftly as possible, and soon came to the summit, where a view of the camp was had. The corral where the mules were feeding was also in sight, farther down, and Teddy was seen making friends with Uncle Ike. The camp looked so quiet and deserted that Jimmie took out his field glass again and looked closely. The flap of the tent was up, and the boy could see for some distance into the interior. Trunks and boxes were open, their contents scattered about the floor. A figure lay still on the floor, as if asleep. Jimmie could not see the face, but from the size and expression of the shoulders he imagined it to be Dode. Oliver was not to be seen. Then, while the boy watched, with a premonition of approaching evil in his mind, he saw two men move out into the center of the tent. They were looking through handfuls of papers, or pictures, or something similar. Jimmie could not determine at that distance just what they were carrying. "Look here, Frank," the boy said, "just take a look at the tent." Not a word to arouse the interest of the prisoner was said. Frank looked and handed the glass back to his chum. Jimmie knew what his chum feared as well as if he had put that fear into words. Bradley was smiling calmly. "They have raided the tent!" Jimmie whispered, and Frank nodded. "And they are destroying our plates and prints," Jimmie went on, "and so we'd better be getting down there to see about it." CHAPTER XIX NED PLAYS THE MIND-READER Jack stood in the little cabin in the valley and looked Ned expectantly in the face. "Tell me," he finally said, "tell me why they painted this boy?" "To get us off the trail of the prince," replied Ned. "But it seems that they failed," suggested Jack. "You know?" "I suspected from the very first," Ned answered. "Yesterday afternoon I knew." "Well, it may be all right," Jack muttered, "or the man who brought him here may need a new wire on his trolley, but I can't see why they should bring this counterfeit prince here at all." "They knew that we were coming here," Ned explained, resolved to give his chum a full understanding of the situation. "They knew we were coming here in quest of the prince. How they knew I can't make out, but they knew." "They might have heard more than we supposed from the attic over the clubroom," Jack suggested. "If the story of the maid and the coachman is straight," Ned continued, "they heard little that night. But they knew! They might have bribed some of the servants. I don't know. They might have been in that room before that evening. "At any rate, when the Boy Scout Camera Club started for West Virginia by way of Washington the friends of the abductors knew what was going on. Now, it is my opinion that the prince had been headed for the mountains before the conspirators became aware of our connection with the case." "I begin to see daylight!" Jack cried. "Well, the prince being on his way to the hills and we having a good idea as to the locality of his place of hiding, the conspirators conceived the idea of giving us a false little prince to play with!" "They're no fools!" Jack exclaimed. "No fools at all!" "Now," Ned went on, "some of the conspirators knew Mrs. Brady's son in Washington. They knew of his many promises to his mother to return to the mountains. They knew of his recent promise to her to come home and bring the boy with him. They were doubtless very intimate with Mike Brady, Senior, for they knew all the little details of the life his mother was living. "So they got him to permit them to bring the boy to his grandmother. They knew he would be looking for a prince in the hills, and so they gave us a false one to engage our attention! Rather clever, that, Jack." The old lady was now regarding Ned with eyes which expressed awe as well as wonder. "How did you find it all out?" she asked. "How do you know what took place in the minds of those wicked men?" "After they took possession of the boy they began bribing him to play the part he has played here so imperfectly. They taught him cheap little French phrases from the dictionary, and touched up his already dusky complexion so as to make him look darker than ever. Yesterday I saw Bradley at work on his face with a brush!" "And the lad played his part!" the grandmother declared. "I don't know how Bradley led him along, but the boy was willing to do as he was told. I never saw such a wild little chap so thoroughly subdued before. He wouldn't even tell me the truth when I took him in my old arms last night and talked to him." "But he evidently told Bradley what you said to him," Ned continued, "for he got the child away in the night. Then he came to camp this morning to see if he could find out how much I knew. He's probably tied up by this time!" "You have had him arrested," asked the old lady. "Then he'll never tell where the boy has been hidden, and he'll die of starvation--die almost within sound of my voice." "We'll find him," Ned answered, grimly. "We can make Bradley talk, I imagine." "And while this has been going on," Jack said, "the true prince, the boy we came here to find, has doubtless been carried to some other part of the country?" "I don't believe it!" Ned replied. "The conspirators would naturally expect us to shift our search for him back to Washington, or Chicago, or New York, wouldn't they? As soon as we discovered that this boy was not the person we sought, they would expect us to leave the hills at once, wouldn't they? Well, if they anticipated such a move on our part, what is more natural than that they should take advantage of this alleged idea on our part and leave the prince right here?" "That is just what they would do!" cried Jack. "That is just what they have done. I wondered why you told Bradley we were going out! I had no idea that you knew so much about the case." "Bradley knew that I knew the boy to be an imposter," Ned went on. "He intended we should make the discovery in time--after he had watched the grandson for a few days, sized up the situation generally, and dropped out of sight. He intended me to know in a couple of weeks, after he was out of harm's way. But I discovered the trick too quickly for him." "When did you first suspect?" asked Jack. "That first morning. The boy's French was from the back of the book, and there was too strong an atmosphere of Washington about him--an atmosphere which does not savor of the quiet life of the prince of the blood. Then when I watched him closer I saw that he had been painted. Oh, it was all plain enough." "So you think the prince is here--in these hills?" asked the old lady. "I can't say, now," Ned replied. "I am sure that he was here yesterday. I think I saw him! But the escape of the two men who captured Jimmie mussed things up a lot. I wanted to put them through a little examination. "After their escape I could not pose longer as a lad after snapshots! I can't say as I deceived the conspirators when I laid the capture of Jimmie to the counterfeiters. I think I did fool them when I said we were going out of the hills in order to protect the captive. "Well, when we released Jimmie and let the two guards escape, that part of the game was off. If I could have held the men it would have been different." "Perhaps Bradley can be made to tell where the prince is," suggested Jack. "I hardly thinks he knows," Ned replied. "He has not, I think, been taken fully into the confidence of the men higher up, any more than have the men who guarded Jimmie." "He certainly knows where my grandson is," exclaimed the old lady, "and I'll tear his heart out but I'll make him tell me. He took him away!" "I am not so certain of that, either," Ned mused. "I don't know just how far the criminal head of the conspiracy has trusted him." "You'll do all you can to find my boy, won't you?" pleaded the old lady. "Don't worry about the boy," Ned urged. "Well find him. If Frank and Jimmie have had good luck Bradley is under arrest now, and something will be brought out to lead to his discovery. Besides, with the disguise penetrated, there is no longer any motive for holding him, unless he knows too much, which is not likely." "If his father was here he might help," suggested the old lady. Jack, who had been looking steadily out of the window for some little time, now turned to Ned with a smile on his face. "I know now what you wrote in your little red book!" he said. "Are you certain of that?" "Why, of course. You wrote the answer to the question: 'Is it the prince, or is it Mike III?' Didn't you, now?" "Yes, I did!" was the reply. "I was almost positive before, but I knew that day." "And now we are just where we began," Jack said. "We've solved one phrase of the case, but we haven't found the prince." "That will come later," Ned declared, confidently. "Well," he went on, "we have finished our work here for the present. We have learned of the disappearance of the grandson and we have confirmed my previous belief, that the boy was sent in here to draw our attention from the abducted child. So we may as well go back to camp and see what the boys have been doing." The old lady still clung to Ned piteously, begging him to restore her boy, and Ned promised to do all in his power to place the lad in her arms. "If my son would only come!" the woman kept saying. "If you'll give me his address," Ned promised, "I'll see him when I get back to Washington, if he is not already here or on his way here." The address was given and the boys started on the return trip to camp. "Now, Jack," Ned said, when they were on their way up the slope, "do you know where the nearest telegraph station is?" "There's one over on the south fork of the Potomac," Jack replied. "You are good friends with Uncle Ike?" Ned then asked, with a laugh. "Sure I am. Uncle Ike is a friend of every person who carries sugar in his pocket." "Well, when we get back to camp I'll give you a night message. You must take the mule and get it to the station. You may not be able to get there to-night. If you can't, send it when you do get there. Wait for an answer. When you get it tell Uncle Ike it is important and get here with it as soon as possible. You've got a hard trip ahead of you, boy!" he added. "I'm game!" laughed Jack. "If there's any of this prince trouble leaked out," he added, "what shall I say?" "Tell the old story. Say that we are in the hills for art's sake, and that we have been annoyed by counterfeiters! Nothing serious, understand? Not a word about our real mission here. You notice that even the men we are battling with want it understood that it is the counterfeiters who are trying to drive us out." "There must be something mighty strange about this abduction game," Jack grinned. "No one will even admit that there is a prince in the case." When the boys came to the vicinity of the summit, south of a point in line with the camp and the canyon where the counterfeiters had been discovered, they stopped and took a good survey of the landscape. "We can probably learn more about what has been going on," Jack suggested, "by hiking straight for the camp. I'm anxious to be off on that trip. Uncle Ike will like it--not! But I'll make him like it! I'll give you a good imitation of a boy sailing over the mountains on the freight deck of a mule!" "I was wondering," Ned said, composedly, though his eyes were troubled, "whether we had any camp left! If you'll look off to the north, you'll see four men crouching in a dent in the slope. Rough-looking chaps, eh?" "I see!" Jack whispered. "Have they seen us? That's the question now." "If they saw us," Ned continued, "they would either be making for us or trying to get out of sight. No; they are watching the camp. See! They are where they can look over the summit." "If they haven't been to the camp I'll think ourselves lucky," Ned said. "They probably haven't!" Jack cried. "But look there, they are going on a rush right now! Must be Bradley's friends. What?" CHAPTER XX SHOOTING ON THE MOUNTAINSIDE Bradley smiled cynically as he looked down toward the tent. He could not, of course, distinguish the figures as plainly as Jimmie could with the glass, but he knew from the excited manner of the boys that something unusual was taking place. "You have visitors at the camp?" he asked cooly, as the lads motioned to him to move on. "I shall be glad to meet them, you may be sure." He held out his manacled hands suggestively as he spoke. "You're not invited!" Jimmie grunted. "We've got private date with those people. You might muss things up, if we permitted you to go with us!" "Very well," Bradley replied. "They'll know where I am. But, for fear they'll not recognize me, at this distance, I'll just give them notice that I'm here." Jimmie and Frank both sprang forward to prevent the promised outcry, but Bradley proved too quick for them. The cry that rose from his lips was long, shrill and significant in its insistance. It was finally stopped by Bradley being thrown to the ground, where he lay with the old sarcastic smile on his face. "You've done it now!" Frank gritted. "You ought to be shot." "You are none too good to commit a murder--to kill an unarmed and defenseless man." "If you don't keep that twirler of yours reefed I'll tie it up!" Jimmie declared, with a threatening motion. He might have gagged Bradley there and then only that Frank called his attention to the camp. The two men who had been seen inside were now hiding on the west side of the tent, and Teddy was coming up the slope from the corral. Oliver was nowhere to be seen, and the supposition was that he had been captured by the outlaws. "We've got to tie this robber hand and foot and gag him!" Frank cried. "We've got to get down to the camp right away!" "Perhaps," Bradley observed, with a provoking laugh, "you'll also tie and gag the men who are coming up the hill from the canyon." The four men were now nearly half way up the slope from the cut, and having heard the cry, were making good time in the ascent. The situation looked anything but peaceful! The boys were anxious and excited, and Bradley counted on this when he made the next move. The men on the west slope had of course heard his call, he reasoned, and were hastening up to his rescue. Believing this, he took a desperate chance when he sprang away from the boys, dropped to the ground and went bumping over the broken slope, handcuffed as he was. Jimmie had his automatic out in a moment, but by that time Bradley was concealed by one of the boulders which lay on the declivity. It was useless to try to recapture the fellow, for the men coming up the slope had seen something of what had taken place, and were now on the run wherever the nature of the ground permitted. Besides, they were already within shooting distance, and the boys would be directly under fire if they sought to bring Bradley back. "It is a hopeless case!" Frank cried. "We can't get him!" "The best thing we can do, then, is to get to the camp," Jimmie observed. "Then duck low and cut away to the north!" Frank cried. "Perhaps we can make most of the distance under cover. Say," he added, as they moved along, northward on the slope toward the east, "did you ever see anything like that? That Bradley is some wise guy when it comes to a pinch!" "He's daring!" Frank commented. "He will make us trouble yet!" "I believe," Jimmie went on, "that he's the fellow that got into the attic over the clubroom of the Black Bear Patrol. When he was down on the ground, sitting looking over the country, I saw a scar on his head, a sharp cicatrice, three-cornered. You know how he got that?" "The maid threw a large pair of shears at some one that night," Frank said. "You remember we found blood and a blonde hair on one of the blades." "Just the sort of hair that gink carries on his dome!" Jimmie added. The men coming up the west slope had not yet reached the summit, and the men below were still hiding behind the tent. Teddy was approaching the fire. "They'll get the kid in a minute!" Jimmie said. "I don't know about that," Frank replied. "He seems to me to be getting suspicious. Notice how he stops and looks around--probably looking for Oliver or Dode." It was clear that the men waiting behind the tent were becoming impatient, for they moved along and made ready to spring upon the boy. Teddy, however, was not advancing. Something about the tent had warned him that it was in the hands of the enemy. With a shout of warning to Oliver and Dode, if they chanced to be free and within hearing, he turned and dashed toward the corral. While the two men were getting under way in pursuit, Frank and Jimmie came out on an easier slope and moved rapidly downward. Teddy was soon out of sight, and then the men turned back. At that moment a shot came from the summit, and the boys turned to see the four men whom they had observed on the slope heading down for the camp. "They've found Bradley, of course!" Frank said. "Yes," answered Jimmie, "there's no use of playing double now, for they know that we are next to their game." "Shall we rush for the camp?" asked Frank. "Nothing doing," Jimmie answered. "We can't do a thing there, and we are under cover here! Bradley has, of course, told them that we are here, but they won't be able to find us for a long time. If they get too gay with the things at the camp we'll send a few bullets down. Looks like things were coming their way now, eh?" he added. "We can't hold the top hand all the time," Frank grunted. "Ned will come along directly and even things up a little. I wish he was here now!" The four men were now scrambling along the slope, looking for the two boys as they walked, slid and jumped down. The two men who were at the camp had turned back from the pursuit of Teddy at the sound of the shot, and were now awaiting the approach of their friends. "I suppose they'll burn the tent and drive the mules off!" wailed Jimmie. "I'd like to have a machine gun up here a little while!" "I reckon they won't!" This from Frank as a shot came from the slope to the south. The men who were rushing from the camp paused and looked at each other. While they waited, uncertain as to what they ought to do, another shot came, this time from the corral. Teddy was evidently getting into action! "Just for luck!" Jimmie shouted. He fired two shots as he spoke, and two more came from the south and one from the corral. The four men beckoned to their companions at the tent--if such they were--and made a break for the summit which they had just left. "Whoo--pee!" shouted Jimmie. "Look at the racers!" At sound of the voice one of the men turned and fired a shot at the rock against which the boy lay. It broke off a splinter but did no harm to the boys. Frank left cover and ran up the slope. "Come one!" he cried. "We'll get Bradley yet!" Jimmie was not long in catching up with him. When they gained the summit the four men were losing no time in their journey to the canyon. They were on their feet only a part of the time. The boys saw Bradley rise from a sheltering rock and start after them, but he fell in a moment. Handcuffed as he was, he could not keep pace with them. The fugitives paid no attention to his calls for assistance. It was every man for himself at that moment. Bradley sat hopelessly down to await the arrival of the boys. Just as they gained the spot where he sat Ned and Jack came out of the jungle of broken rocks to the south and looked smilingly down at the prisoner. "Good day!" laughed Jack. Bradley forced a smile and turned away. "You took that trick!" he said. Jimmie stepped forward and put his fingers into the blonde hair of the captive. "Where did you get this scar?" he asked, and Ned at once bent forward. "I fell down and stepped on it!" Bradley answered, still smiling. "I'll tell you how you got it," Jimmie went on. "You sneaked into a room in New York where you had no business to be and a girl threw a pair of shears at you!" "That's a fine story!" snarled Bradley. "I never was in New York. "Bring him along, boys," Ned said. "We'll go on down to camp and see what's been done to our tent and things by this man's friends." When they once more came to the summit, Teddy was standing outside the tent with Oliver and Dode and the two outlaws were nowhere to be seen. After that Bradley complained at the rate of speed the boys insisted on. "Your friends must have thought they had butted into an ambuscade!" Jimmie said to the captive. "Have they had much training in running? They bobbed along like professionals, it seemed to me." "You'll see how fast they can run!" Bradley growled. "They'll go fast enough to send you all over the road." "Now about this grandson," asked Ned, falling back. "Mrs. Brady wants to know where he is. No use for you to hide him, now that we all know he was disguised to look like the prince stolen from Washington. Why did you paint him if not to imitate this other boy we speak of?" "I don't know anything about the boy," was the reply. "He was taken without my knowledge, and that is on the level. I was ordered to do the paint act." They trudged on for some minutes in silence, and then Bradley asked: "What is it about this prince you are always talking about? What is there about the prince? Where is he? Why is he supposed to be in this section?" "You don't know a thing about him, do you?" asked Ned, laughing, "and yet you painted a boy to represent him?" Bradley only scowled. "When I find him," Ned continued, "I'll present him to you!" When the boys reached the tent they found Oliver and Teddy mourning over the destruction of a large number of films and plates. Many pictures, developed and printed with great care, had also been torn or burned. "Well," Jimmie declared, "they didn't get their hands on the films in my baby camera. I've got a few good ones left." "Now, Jack," Ned said, "suppose you connect with Uncle Ike and make for the nearest telegraph office? Don't break your neck, and the neck of the mule, but get there as soon as you can. And get back as soon as you receive an answer." "Why can't I go with him?" asked Jimmie. "I guess I want a mule ride." "Go it, if you want to!" Ned laughed. "That will leave us one mule to run away on if things get too hot for us here!" CHAPTER XXI TOLD BY THE PICTURES "You'll think we took great care of the camp!" Teddy said, flushing, to Ned, as Jack and Jimmie, followed by the cheers and good wishes of their chums, started away. "Aw, it wasn't Teddy's fault at all," Oliver declared. "He went down to tell Uncle Ike what a gentleman and a scholar he was, and I was supposed to watch the tent." "And I was to help him," wailed Dode. "See how well I did it!" He swung a hand around at the mess on the ground. "So, while Teddy was down at the corral, Dode and I sat down to develop some snapshots. We never looked out at all! After we had a lot of pictures ready to show on your return, we heard a noise outside and thought Teddy had come back." "And there is when we got it!" Dode cut in. "Yes, there, is where we got it in the neck," Oliver went on, while Teddy grinned. "The gun I looked into seemed about as large as the tunnel under the Hudson, and I became the good little boy without further argument." "I thought the gun I saw was a room in a cavern!" grinned Dode. "So they performed with their ropes and gags, and we lay there like two little kittens while they tore up our work and smashed things generally. And the way they wrecked the trunks and boxes was a caution." "What did they talk to each other about while they were searching?" asked Ned. "Nothing much. They seemed to be too busy looking for papers. From what I could make out; I reckon they thought you had some official document with you." "I have," laughed Ned, "but they did not find it." "After they had made all the trouble they could," Oliver went on, "they spoke of burning the tent, and I guess they would haved one it, too, if other things hadn't attracted their attention just at that time!" he added, with a wink at Ned. "Well," Ned observed, "I'm sorry we lost the pictures, but there may be some of the valuable ones left. We'll look them over right now." "Jimmie left the films from his baby camera," Teddy remarked. "We can see what he got while he was in the hands of those cheap skates!" Nearly all the snapshots taken by Ned and Jack on the afternoon they had come to the hiding place of Jimmie's captors had been printed by the boys, and most of them had been destroyed, plates and all. Stationing Oliver and Dode out on the slope to watch for any approach which might be made, Ned gave his attention to the pictures. "The worst of it is," Frank declared, "that the good ones were the ones the boys printed, and the ones which were burned up." "I don't know about that," Ned said. "The camera sees things the human eye does not see! What we want now is a knowledge of the country near the spot where Jimmie was held. We took plenty of pictures around there, and Jimmie took some, too, so we may be able to find what we want." "I'll work over the baby camera pictures while you handle the others," suggested Frank, and the two boys were soon busy at their tasks. Finally Ned handed a torn print to Frank, pointing out a single feature as he did so. "You see the tree in the foreground?" he asked. "Yes, of course." "Now follow along back to the bush at the left and in the rear." "I see the bush," Frank said. "What else do you see there?" Frank bent closer over the print. "Is that a face there?" he asked. "It certainly is a face." "But it looks too small for a human face. It may be caused be some odd arrangement of the leaves. Besides, it is very indistinct." "Sure, because it is in the shade. It is almost a miracle that we see it at all. I 'll get a better print of it soon and enlarge it. Then we shall know more about it. Now, look lower down. What do you see there?" "Say," cried Frank, "that's a child's face up there! Here is the leg below. Now, what do you think of that?" "That is doubtless the boy Jack and I saw," said Ned. "The grandson?" asked Frank. "The prince, unless I am much mistaken," Ned said, cooly. "So you saw him?" asked Frank. "We saw a child," was the reply. "He came toward us for a few steps and then ran back! Now we'll look over the remaining pictures and see what we can find." "That wasn't the grandson, was it?" asked Frank. "Mike III. was at the cabin that afternoon," was the reply. Presently Ned came to another torn print showing the mountain slope directly in front of Chimney rock. He passed it over to Frank with an odd look in his eyes. "Look right in the foreground, between those two stones," he said. "What is it between the stones?" asked the boy. "Looks to me like a coat." "Do you really think it is?" "Sure thing!" laughed Ned. "I'm going over there directly and see if it is still there." Frank looked puzzled. "But how did it come there?" he asked. "Why should it be left there?" "I have known children to throw off coats or jackets on a hot day," smiled Ned. "I imagine that princes are not different from other children." Ned went on with his examination of the pictures. At last he came to one which was badly torn, almost half of it being missing. "There," he said. "This is a picture taken right there at Chimney rock. Do you see the face above it?" The face referred to was not that of either of the two men Jimmie had been captured by, or of Bradley, who sat scowling just beyond reach of their voices. "That is the man we want," Ned said, with a sigh. "If we had the other part of the picture we should see the boy looking over the rock, close at the man's side." "Very close!" Frank observed. "They seem to have hold of hands. Doesn't that look like a closed hand down lower?" "That is just what it is!" Ned laid the picture aside and Frank brought out those which had been made from the films taken from the baby camera. There were half a dozen of them and all were remarkably good. "Look here," Frank said, "the kid took a picture of the slope back of the rock. Our pictures do not show that. Look up a short distance!" Not very far up the slope hung a huge boulder which seemed on the verge of falling. "If you'll notice the point of contact with the ground," Frank went on, "you'll see that the boulder is propped up by wedge-like stones put under it." "Exactly!" Ned said. "And that means that the boulder has fallen or been pried out of its nest, and that the cavity behind it is regarded as a good hiding place." "Do you think the prince could have been there?" "Not when Jack and I were in that section. We saw him out on the slope." "But he went back that way?" "Yes." "Tell you what!" Frank exclaimed. "I'm going to take these pictures home to Dad, and let him print them in his newspaper." "You'll have to write a story to go with them." "Oh, I suppose so, but stories aren't read when there are pictures. The cuts tell the story. Dad will like the photographs." After a time Ned came to the picture of a man with the head torn off! In destroying the print the outlaws had contented themselves by merely ripping it into two pieces. The head part was not to be found. "What's the dangling things in front of the man's breast?" asked Frank. "Legs!" replied Ned. "I never knew a man to wear his legs up there!" laughed Frank. "But you have known men to lift kids to their backs and let their little legs hang down in front for handles? What?" "Never thought of that?" Frank exclaimed. "If we only had the face!" Ned worried. Then he paused a moment and went back to the print carrying the strange face. "Here it is!" he said. "See! This is the same man. There are the boots and the buttons. The camera caught the man twice." "I don't know why you didn't see some of these things when the pictures were made," laughed Frank. "Next time I go out taking snapshots I'm going to study the landscape, so I can choose subjects for my pictures!" "All this means," Ned began, "that we were watched when we were taking the pictures that afternoon. These people were looking at us! We might as well have been walking through an open street." "But why didn't they do something to you, then?" demanded Frank. "They captured the ones who entered the workroom." "Those were counterfeiters, not abductors." "Well, then, they caught Jimmie and lugged him away?" "In an effort to drive us out of the country, yes." "Then why didn't they capture you?" "Because they thought they had us scared so we'd go, and so didn't want to show their hand. Remember that it was the counterfeiters who were supposed by us to have taken Jimmie." "I understand. When you found that the boy at the cabin was not the one you were looking for you were supposed to go away so as to save Jimmie's life, and leave the true prince here in hiding." "That is just it." Bradley now called out to the boys that he had something to say to them, and they hurried to his side. "I want you to get the widow's grandson and take him to her," he said. "I was used decent, and I don't like to have her suffer." "Where is the boy?" asked Ned. Bradley open his eyes wider in wonder. "Do you really think I took him away?" he asked. "Not a doubt of it!" Frank declared. "Well, I didn't," Bradley insisted. "I don't know where he is, but I think I can point out the likeliest place to hunt for him." "Down at Chimney rock?" asked Frank. "In that section, yes. And, look here. You will need to be in a hurry, for the men who have him are anxious to get rid of him--and they are unscrupulous!" CHAPTER XXII A RECRUIT FROM THE ENEMY "So you know the men who have taken the boy we call Mike III.?" asked Ned. "I know him too well," was the bitter answer. "He's one of the men who use their friends up to the limit and then drop them!" "You say 'him,'" Ned suggested. "Is there only one in this outrage?" "There are several, but all bow to the will of the leader. I can't tell you anything more about it! I don't like the way I have been treated, or I wouldn't have said as much as I have." "I thought your motive was to secure the return of the boy to his grandmother?" "I want that done, of course, but I wouldn't have suggested it to you only for the high and mighty airs of the man placed over me." "Why don't you tell me who this man is?" asked Ned. "Why don't you tell me the object of this abduction of the prince? Why not tell me where to find this little chap you seem honestly interested in?" "I don't know anything about any prince!" insisted Bradley. "Look here," Ned said, "I believe I can tell you just how this man you hate looks. If I describe him, will you tell me if I am right?" "I will tell you nothing, except that you ought to look in the vicinity of Chimney rock for the grandson--not at the rock, but close to it! That is more than I ought to tell you." "This man you speak of," Ned went on, recalling the features of the face caught above the rock by the camera, "has a very slim face, a prominent nose, a wide, thin-lipped mouth, high cheek boned, small eye-orbits, and eyebrows which tip up at the outer corners. He is fond of children, and will play with any child he comes across. He is also fond of mountain climbing, and delights in long tramps over the hills." Bradley looked at Ned with the old cynical smile on his face. "Where did you run across him?" he asked eagerly, "That is enough!" laughed Ned. "You needn't say another word. We have two snapshots of him--one without a head. In one he has hold of the hand of a child, and in the other he has the child on his back, with the little fellow's legs hanging down over his shoulders. A man would not be apt to ride children about on his shoulders unless he was fond of little ones generally, would he?" "I presume not," Bradley admitted. "And he wears in both pictures a mountain-climbing costume," Ned went on. "He evidently likes the errand he was sent here on!" "The man I referred to a few moments ago as unscrupulous does," Bradley said. "But if he likes children he won't be apt to injure this Mike III., will he?" "He is a man who will do anything for expediency's sake. Now go away and leave me to my very entertaining thoughts! If I ever get out of these hills alive, and free, I'll never leave Manhattan island again." "I remember you saying that you had never set foot in New York!" laughed Ned. "You'll have to make your stories consistent if you want them believed!" "Never mind all that now," Bradley replied. "You get busy restoring that child to Mrs. Brady! Say, boy, but he is a bright-one!" "Learned French quickly, didn't he, and consented to being blacked up like a negro minstrel, in order to pose as a prince?" asked Ned. "I reckon, however, that the credit does not all belong to the lad. He seems to have had a good instructor." "If you'll release me," Bradley offered, after a pause, "I'll go and get the boy." "That's an easy promise to make," laughed Ned. "But I'll go and get him and bring him to you, and you can return him to his grandmother. Then you may put these bracelets on me again if you like. But, boy, let me tell you this: You've got nothing on me! I haven't done a thing in this state at least, to render myself liable to punishment. I supplied, for good pay, certain information in New York, and I brought the boy you call Mike III. on here from Washington, where I know his father well." "You must have known what you were doing it for?" "I did know--for money!" "But you must have known that the boy was to personate some one else?" "I didn't care about that. I had my orders! See here, boy, if you ever work with these highbrow rulers of petty kingdoms, you'll soon find out that you're to obey and not ask questions! Do you get me?" "That's enough!" laughed Ned. "You haven't betrayed your employer, but you have told me all I wanted to know." The boys unlocked the handcuffs and laid them aside. "I believe you'll do the right thing," he said. "Go and get the boy. If you need any help let me know." Bradley arose and stretched out his arms luxuriously. "That's the first time I ever stood in the accused row," he said, "and it will be the last! But, see here, boy, I can't get the kid in a minute! I'll go to the mother and tell her what I'm doing, if I live to get there!" "You think your ex-friends may seek to terminate your lease of life?" "They surely will--now. And, here's a pointer for you, look out for yourself." "I think I can fix you out so they will receive you with open arms," Ned grinned. "Here. I'll put these cuffs on again, with one arm locked carelessly. You can draw the bar out when you pull right hard. Now, eat what you need and take a run up the slope. We'll follow you with a serenade of bullets. When you join the outlaws down in the canyon you'll be a hero." "That's a fine notion!" said Bradley, actually smiling. "And don't come back here with the boy. Send him home to the old lady. Then, if you want to help me in the work I'm on--" "I don't, and I won't!" "Don't blame you a mite! I never did like a traitor! If you won't help me, then cut sticks for New York. Some day when you are in better mood, come to the Black Bear Patrol clubroom. You know where it is! Well give you a look into the place without sending you up to the attic!" Bradley's face twisted into a laugh, but Ned did not seem to notice the fact. "I'm not saying anything more about the prince, understand, or the attic, or the French, or the black stain, but perhaps you'll tell me the whole story some day!" And so, handcuffed again, Bradley was taken back to the tent, where he was given a hearty meal. Then he carefully made his way out and ran for the summit. Ned and his chums sat back and laughed at the tumbles he took in his eagerness to deceive any one who might be watching the camp. Now and then he fell down behind a rock and lay there for a moment, peering out in the direction of the tent. Just before he gained the summit, Ned and the others ran out of the tent with shouts of alarm and dashed up the slope, firing as they went. At that time Bradley's speed might have shown a world record if it had been set down! He cleared the summit, shouting for assistance from anyone who might be below, and half rolled down toward the canyon. Ned fired a few shots and went back to the tent. "What's the game?" asked Frank, as Ned sat down and roared. "This man Bradley seems to be It--Tag!" Ned explained the situation and Frank immediately began taking notes for a story for his father's newspaper. "If I had had a motion picture machine here," Frank declared, "I could have made a fortune out of the films! It was glorious, the way the old boy tore up the rocks on his way down. Think he'll return?" "I think he will," was the reply. "But if he doesn't?" "Then we shall have to find the boy ourselves, just as we are going to find the prince! That is the next job, you understand." "And geezle the man who stole him--that's in the job, isn't it?" "Nothing said about that, but I hope to get him and have the goods on him, too. When I present him to the chief he can do whatever he likes with him." "But how are you going to get the goods on him?" asked Oliver. "I'll manage that easily," laughed Ned. "The first thing is to catch him. Now, Frank, you saw where Bradley went?" "Why, he headed for the old counterfeiter den." "Think you can keep track of him for a short time?" "Can I? You know it!" "Then take Dode with you, so as to be in communication with the camp, and follow him! Don't show yourself if you can help it, but if you are discovered keep busy with your camera. We are here only to take pictures, you know!" "So you don't trust that chap, after all?" asked Frank. "Yes, I trust him, but he won't betray the men he has been working with. In order to get the boy he'll have to go to the man I want." "All right!" Frank laughed. "Come on, Dode! I might have known that Ned was next to his job. I'll come back just before sunset to report, if not before. If you love me have a supper fit for six of us ready for me!" The two boys started away, and Ned, Teddy and Oliver went back to the pictures. After an hour or more Ned went down to the corral, as if looking after the mule. He saw no one on the way there, but when he reached the level spot, rich with June grass, he saw that it had had visitors during the day. The grass was beaten down flat behind a boulder on the edge of the fertile spot, and there were cigarette stubs and half-burned matches scattered about. The lush grass still carried the odor of tobacco, and the boy knew that the watcher had not been long absent from his post. He went back to the camp, and, much to the surprise of Teddy and Oliver, began packing. "What's doing now?" the boy asked. "Why," laughed Ned, "haven't I agreed to get out of here to-morrow or next day?" "Yes, but--" "We're going to pack, anyway," Ned said, "whether we leave or not! There are people watching every move we make, and I want to convey to them the idea that we are going at once." "If they are watching us," Oliver suggested, "they doubtless saw Jack and Jimmie leave the camp." "They undoubtedly did," Ned admitted. "And will follow them, I'm afraid." "I've been wondering whether the boys got out of the hills in safety," Ned went on. "They were well mounted, and should have been able to dodge the outlaws. Besides, Jimmie and Jack are, as the boys say on the Bowery, inclined to be 'foolish in the head--like a fox.' So they are probably safely out by this time." "But, still, I'm worrying about them!" Oliver replied. CHAPTER XXIII RACING MOTORS ON THE WAT "Some day," Jimmie said, as he urged Uncle Ike down an eastern slope of the Alleghany mountains, "I'm going to have this mule put in a book." "If he keeps up his stealing," Jack declared, "he is more likely to be put in jail. That mule is certainly a bad actor." "Huh!" grunted Jimmie. "He's got a sugar tooth, or he wouldn't steal!" The boys drew up when nearly to the valley through which runs the North Fork and looked over the landscape. There was another range of mountains straight ahead, and beyond that the valley of the South Branch, for which they were headed. "Looks like another climb and good-night!" Jack complained. "And Ned wanted this sent to-night. That's a right smart climb ahead of us," he added. Jimmie coaxed Uncle Ike back to four feet again and patted him on the head before making any reply. Then he pointed to the south. "Over there," he said, "is the Virginia line. The ridge ahead of us does no cross that. I know because I looked up this section once when Ned and I were thinking of running away for a rest." "You always need a rest!" grinned Jack. "Why don't you make Uncle Ike stand still, like Dill Pickles, this old mountain ship of mine does?" he added. "Why do you call him Dill Pickles?" asked Jimmie. "He looks more like a razor-back with sails set in front." "He's Dill Pickles because he's got a good disposition gone sour," Jack explained. "He's just about shaken the life out of me now. Doesn't look it, does he?" "Better call him Bones!" Jimmie advised. "As I was saying," he went on, "the ridge ahead of us drops down this side of the Virginia line, and we can dodge a climb by going around it." "And get lost!" Jack grumbled. "Lost--not. We follow down this valley--or up this valley, rather--until the ridge drops down. Then we go straight east until we come to the South Branch. And there you are." "Here we go, then!" Jack shouted. "Set your sails and come along." Uncle Ike wanted a test of speed and endurance right there, but Jimmie held him back. It might be that they would be obliged to return to the camp that night. They soon left the high places and wound among foothills. Below lay a fertile valley, with handsome and well-tilled fields. "We're making a hit with these mules!" laughed Jimmie, as they passed along, the people staring at them from gates, doors, windows and fence-tops. "If these ladies and gentlemen ever see us again they'll be sure to know us." It is not a great distance from the place where they came to the river to the city they sought, and the ground was covered in a couple of hours. The sun was still shining when they passed through a busy street, certainly the center of observation. When they entered the telegraph office Jack took out the message and handed it to the clerk at the desk without looking at it. The clerk studied it a moment and asked: "Day rates? This seems to be a night letter." The boys eyed each other keenly for a moment, and then Jimmie said: "I'd have it sent right off if I were you. Ned wouldn't have said anything about its being a night letter if he had had any idea we'd get here so soon." "All right," Jack said. "Send it now. We'll wait for a little while to see if there's an answer." "It is in cipher," the clerk said, "and will take some time to send." "I never looked at it," Jack cried. "I' don't even know where it is going." "To the Secret Service chief, Washington," said the clerk. "Are you boys out here on secret service business?" "We're out here to take pictures," Jimmie cut in. "We have nothing to do with that dispatch. It was given to us by an acquaintance to send out." "He wanted to make sure it got into the right hands," Jack said. "Will you call Washington and see if he's there--the chief?" "You'll have to pay for the message." Jack laid a banknote of large denomination down on the desk. "Ask for the chief," he said, "and tell him to wire any instructions he may have for the sender in cipher if he wants to, but to give any instructions he may have for us about the delivery of the message in plain United States!" "Come back in half an hour," said the clerk, "and I'll probably have something for you. I suppose this cipher message is an important one?" he added, suspiciously. "Don't know what it is," Jack answered, truthfully. The clerk evidently did not believe the boy for he stood at the desk gazing after him with a look of distrust on his face. The lads were no sooner out of the office than a thin, angular gentleman, dusky of face and very black and bright of eye, entered and walked up to the clerk. "I sent a message here by a couple of boys," he said, "and I wish to withdraw it." "You'll have to find the boys, then, and have them withdraw it," replied the clerk. "But can't I recall the dispatch--my own dispatch?" demanded the other, exposing a $100 banknote in his palm. "It is worth something to me to get it back." The clerk was angry at the plain attempt at bribery, so he turned back to a table and took up the message the boys had left. "We have a message here," he said, "which may be recalled under proper conditions. Kindly tell me what your dispatch says." "Which one did they file?" asked the other. "The one to Washington or the one to New York?" The clerk laid the paper back on the desk. "Give me the address you sent your message to at Washington," he said. "It was the secretary of state," was the reply. "And the message? Give me a few opening words." "Read them!" snarled the other. "Can't you read English?" "The message is in cipher!" said the clerk, "You also have the address wrong. You are evidently a fraud. Get out!" When the boys returned to the office in half an hour the clerk called them over to the desk at once and told them of what had taken place. "How did he ever follow us out without our seeing him?" asked Jimmie. "He must have shot through the air," the other declared. "Are you sure you kept a good lookout?" smiled the clerk. "Well, we looked about a good deal," Jimmie admitted, "and I can't say as I thought of being chased up. What did Washington say?" "You boys are to wait here until you receive instructions. The cipher message is now going on the wire." The boys sat down in a restaurant not far from the telegraph office and ordered porterhouse steaks, French potatoes, and all the side dishes that were on the menu. "We may have to ride to-night," Jack said, "and may as well prepare for it." "I don't like the idea of our being followed here," Jimmie observed. "We'll be apt to come across that chap on the way back. The funny part of it all is that we never suspected there was a sleuth out after us!" "We ought to have known," Jack grumbled. "Somehow everything has gone wrong with us. If we ride back in the night we'll probably have a skirmish." After eating they went back to the telegraph office. The clerk was waiting for them, that being the usual hour for his supper. "Here's your orders," he said, with a smile, "right from the chief himself. He seems to know who you are all right!" Jack took the dispatch and read: "Remain where you are until motor cars now on the way from Cumberland reach you. Our men say the cars can make good time clear to the foothills. The cipher message will arrive shortly. Be on your guard." It was signed by the chief of the Secret Service department. "What do you know about that?" asked Jack, passing the message over to Jimmie. "How far is it to Cumberland?" he asked of the clerk. "Something like eighty miles," was the reply. "Are the roads good? Can a motor car make good time to-night." "The river roads are fairly good. A fast car ought to get here in three hours." "I see that Chinese-looking guy that wanted the message catching us if we go back in an automobile!" Jimmie laughed. "But a motor car," Jack interrupted, "is an easy thing to wreck on a mountain." "What do you think was in that dispatch?" Jimmie asked of Jack, as they sat in the telegraph office waiting. "Something which brings out motor cars and secret service men," Jack answered. "I guess it made a hit at Washington." "Perhaps he wired that he was going to bring the prince in!" laughed Jimmie. "Well, if he did, he'll do it, and that's all I've got to say about it." Twice that evening a dark face appeared at the window of the telegraph office and peered in at the boys. Each time the owner of the dark face hastened away after a short inspection of the lads and conferred with two men in a dark little hotel office. Shortly after ten o'clock two great touring cars, long, lean racers, ran up to the curb in front of the telegraph office and stopped. The street was now well-nigh deserted, but what few people were still astir gathered around the machines. There were three husky men in each machine, and in each car was room for one more person. Only one man alighted and entered the office. When he saw the boys waiting he beckoned to them. "Got your cipher?" he asked, and Jack nodded. "Then come along. We'll get to the high climb before the moon comes up." "Do you know the way?" asked the clerk. "Only from verbal description," was the reply, "but we can find it." "I'm off duty," the clerk said, "and I know every inch of the way. I was reared in the mountains west of the short ridge. I'd like a little adventure, too!" he laughed. "What about the mules?" asked Jimmie, determined that Uncle Ike should be cared for. "Get them into a barn, quick," said the chief, sharply. "We must be off." When Jimmie came back the clerk and Jack were crowded into one seat in the rear machine, while a vacant seat in the front car was waiting for him. The party was off with a snort of motors and faint cheers from the little crowd which had gathered. The river road was fairly good, and in an hour they were at the foothills, around the south end of the short ridge. The driver drew up there, and in the clear air, from the north came the sound of galloping horses. "Get out and under cover, boys!" the chief commanded. CHAPTER XXIV THE MAN-TRAP IS SET Ned, Oliver and Teddy remained in camp all the afternoon--waiting. They were not, of course, anticipating the immediate return of Jack and Jimmie, but they were looking every moment, after a couple of hours had passed, for some signs of the boys who had been sent out in the wake of Bradley. "I'll bet a cookie," Teddy exclaimed, as the sun set over the ridge to the west, "that Frank and Dode have bumped into something hard!" "I may have made a mistake in not going on that trip myself," Ned mused, "but I had an idea there would be business for me at the camp. I don't know what to make of this lack of attention on the part of our enemies!" "It may be," Oliver suggested, "that they have taken alarm and ducked with the prince." "That is just what I fear," Ned answered. "It will spoil all my plans if they move now; still, I admit that they've had enough unpleasant experiences here to make them long for a quieter retreat!" The boys prepared supper, taking pains to provide enough food for Frank and Dode, but they did not come. The meal over, Ned made ready for a trip down the mountain. "I'm going to Chimney rock," he said to the boys. "I should like to have one of you with me, but two ought to remain here. I'm going to take some rockets with me. If I do not return before midnight, one of you advance along the summit to the south, provided with rockets. If one of my rockets is seen, the watcher must send one up to notify the boy in camp. Then both must make a run for Chimney rock, traveling so as to come upon it from the up-hill side. Is that clear?" "Perfectly," Oliver declared. "You are going to bring this prince back with you?" "Perhaps!" laughed Ned. "I may have to bring Frank and Dode back with me!" There was only the light of the stars when Ned reached the vicinity of Chimney rock, coming in from the slope to the north and moving with extreme caution. There was a dull glow in the dip back of the rock, the glow of coals nearly burned out. The men who had captured Jimmie at the cave of the counterfeiters had fled before the shooting, and Ned had no idea that they had returned, or would return. Any fire built by them would have long since turned to ashes. "The party having direct charge of the prince has been here," the boy mused, "though why they should come here is a puzzle to me, as they have, or had a camp of their own not far away. Still, the theory of hiding in a place which has been searched is an old one, and these fellows may have adopted it. "They certainly adopted a theory something like it," the lad thought, as he watched the dying embers from a distance--from the secure shadow, if the stars may be said to have cast a shadow that night, of a great rock--"when they decided to remain here after the disguise of the widow's grandson had been discovered. They took it for granted that no one would look for the real prince where the disguised one had been found! They might better have taken him away!" Ned knew very well that the men having charge of the abducted boy had hidden farther up the slope. His idea was that at the time the pictures were taken the men in charge were watching the two who had ran away. From what Bradley had said, it was not likely that he, Bradley, had been permitted to associate with the actual custodians of the stolen lad. This had been the main source of his complaints. Ned believed that a portion, at least, of the men sent into the hills as custodians of the prince had followed Jack and Jimmie out While trembling for the safety of the two boys, Ned had figured on cutting the force of the enemy in two before making an attempt to seize the little prisoner. Even now, he figured, the force left on the ground had been again divided, for he was positive that the camp was being watched. For this reason he had caused the packing to be done, thus giving the impression that his party was going out at once. The boy lay in the dark spot under the boulder for a long time, watching, listening, for some indication of human life in that vicinity. He had a half notion that Bradley would head that way, and that the boys would follow him. "If Bradley does come here," Ned thought, "my trap will be set right! That is, if the dusky little chap from over the sea has not been taken away. If he has, the trap will not serve; still, I shall be able to console myself with the thought that it was at least well set!" Every clue the boy had gained pointed to the spot where he lay. That had undoubtedly been the point of communication between the leader and his subordinates--with Bradley and the men who had taken Jimmie prisoner. "That was rather clever," Ned mused, "taking the boy while at the cave of the counterfeiters in order to give the impression that the coiners had seized him!" Ned realized, too; that the capture of the grandson just at that time had been a master stroke on the part of the conspirators. The lad would have talked too much when he became satisfied that he was safe from all coercion. Ned lay in his hiding place for what appeared to him to be a long time before he heard anything to indicate that his man-trap had been set in the right spot. Then the voice he heard caused him to spring quickly up to his feet. It was the low, soft, plaintive voice of Mary Brady. "I haven't seen anything here I could talk about," the old lady was saying. "I wouldn't think of betraying anyone who put my boy in my arms. I've seen him with you--I've been waiting about here for a long time. Bring him out to me and I'll go home and never trouble you any more." "Now," thought Ned, "how did the old lady manage to find the boy here?" "You shouldn't have come here," a low, well-modulated masculine voice said. "You have put your own life and the life of the boy in danger by so doing. How long had you been watching and listening before I saw you?" "A long, long time." "And you heard much of what was said?" "I heard a good many words, but I don't remember now what they meant." The voices came clearly from farther up the slope, and a little to the south. The figures of the speakers could not be seen by the watcher. "Come up to the camp," the masculine voice said, presently. "I'll turn the boy over to you, but you can't go back to your cabin to-night." "Are you going to keep me here against my will?" asked the trembling old voice. "You have seen and heard too much," was the almost brutal rejoinder. There was a rattle of pebbles as footsteps moved along the rocky surface of the slope. From above came the shrill cry of a child. "I don't know of any better time to move up and take a peep at the camp of the man who crossed the sea to steal a child," Ned mused. "I wish Frank and Dode would come, but if they don't I'll have to take chances on going alone." Keeping those in front of him as guides, Ned crept along the slope. More than once a loose pebble rolled with a great noise from under his feet, but those ahead seemed to pay no attention to these evidences of pursuit. When, perhaps, two hundred paces up the slope the sounds above the boy ceased. The night was still, save for the rustling and creeping of the creatures of the air and the forest. For a long time not a sound indicative of the presence of human life was heard, then a woman's cry of fright came from above. Ned was about to hasten forward when a voice came to his ears from the darkness. "We can't permit either of them to leave!" the low, well-modulated voice he had heard before that night said. "Even if we get away with the prince, their stories would ruin us. There is no knowing how soon the gabblings of the old woman might reach the ears of the adherents of the prince." "Then you propose--" "Nothing that will not come to them in due course of time! They can go to sleep in the snug inner room and never wake again. They will not know when the change comes. They will sleep forever in their mountain tomb." "I am opposed to murder," said another voice, harsher, more decisive. "And so the trap was well set!" mused Ned. "The princeling is still here! Well, the battle may not bring victory to me, but I will at least know that I planned it right, acting on the best information at hand." It was plain, from what the first speaker had said, that the camp of the conspirators was in a cave, for he had spoken of a snug inner room. The entrance to this cave was undoubtedly closely guarded. The boy crept along cautiously. The slope was steep, with here and there a ledge which had to be surmounted or circled, always at great risk. In a few hours the moon would be up, and then the work he had before him would be more difficult. "I must get into the cave before the moon rises!" he thought. "But how?" When he came to the precipice in the side of the mountain from which the cave opened, he saw the black spot which marked the entrance. It was not large, and, close in front, sitting with his back against the rock, was a guard! Ned lay down to wait. When the moon rose it would cast the shadow of the mountain on that spot. For a few hours more he might wait for his chance. Directly he heard a call which brought him to an alert attitude in an instant. It was the call of the wolf pack, sharp, vicious, warning! There was a movement at the mouth of the cave, and a quick light showed for only a second. Then came a sound of footsteps negotiating the gravelly slope. Ned dropped back to the west. The call had come from that direction. It might have been uttered either by Frank or by one of the boys left at the camp. Presently the snarl was heard in a dark crevice toward which the boy was descending. Ned dropped down faster then, and soon heard Frank's voice. "Are you alone?" he asked. "Yes; and you?" "Bradley and Dode are here." Bradley moved forward and took Ned by the arm. "Be careful!" he warned. "Those men would toss dynamite down here and take their own risk of death if they knew." "We've had a run for our money!" Frank panted. "We've been everywhere. The cabin is deserted, and the lower camp and the counterfeiter cave are bare of life. Bradley caught us following him, and so we joined with him in his search for Mike III." "Mike III.," Ned answered, "is up there in the cave with the abductors, and Mrs. Brady is with him. We've got to act quickly." "They'll be murdered!" Bradley whispered. "What can we do?" "They'll be spared for a short time," Ned answered, "but we must be on the move." CHAPTER XXV THE CONFESSION OF A PHOTOGRAPH "There's a ravine off to the right where the machines may be hidden," the clerk said, when the racing automobiles stopped at the foot of the hills. "Show the way, then, quick," hastily commanded the leader. "We want to see what sort of people they are who ride at break-neck speed in the darkness." The machines were driven into the ravine referred to, and the secret service men and the boys secreted themselves in a clump of undergrowth close to the roadside. The horsemen came on swiftly, and would have passed only that the detectives closed in about them, three in front and three in the rear. "What is the meaning of this?" demanded the dark little man who had shown himself at the telegraph office. The two men with him whispered together but said nothing in the way of protest. "Dismount!" ordered the leader. The men hesitated, and a bullet cut the air within a fraction of an inch of the right ear of the leader. There was now no delay in reaching the ground. "You shall pay for this!" shouted the little dark man. "Of course," laughed the leader. Jimmie pulled at the sleeve of the chief. "That is one of the men I saw in the mountains," he declared. "He is the second one in command, as far as I could determine." "What does the boy say?" demanded the other. "What are you doing here?" asked the chief, impatiently. "We are hunting in the hills." "Hunting at this season?" "Hunting and resting. Please now do we go on?" The chief made a significant motion, and before the three men knew what was going on they were securely handcuffed. They roared at their captors and at each other in a foreign language for a moment and then sat down stolidly at the side of the road. "You, Jerry, and you, Sam, take them back to the town and lock them up," ordered the chief. "Perhaps you, Charley, would better go with them. Ride and make them walk!" "Locked up!" shouted the dark little man. "What for?" "Treason to your country," was the short reply. For a moment there was no word spoken, then the three men arose to their feet and approached the chief, standing with a hand on his revolver. "There is money," one of the men said. "Plenty of money." "Cut that out!" ordered the chief, curtly. "Not in the thousands!" the other went on, "In the millions!" "If they renew this proposition on the way in," ordered the chief, "gag them!" In a moment the three men were away with their prisoners, the sound of the horses' feet dying away in soft echoes from the hills. Then the chief turned to the clerk. "Does our auto ride end here?" he asked. The clerk shook his head. "A few rods further on," he said, "you can turn into the bed of a half dry stream which runs out of the hills almost at the rocky wall of the mountain itself." "And the bottom of the stream?" asked the chief. "Sand and fine gravel. The grade is not steep." "And how far from the summit shall we be when we get to the end of the water route?" asked the chief. "Not more than three miles, but it is a stiff climb." "Get under way then," was the order, and the motors sang their tune in the hills once more. "What time does the moon rise?" the chief asked, after a few moments of splashing in the bed of the stream, which at that season of the year was not more than three inches deep, except in places, which were avoided. "About twelve," was the reply. "We must be well up the hill before that," the chief declared. When they came to the end of the water course the machines were hidden in a canyon not far away and the men and the boys proceeded on up the slope. In the meantime Ned and those with him were listening for the sound of footsteps in their immediate vicinity. The call of the pack had aroused the suspicions of the guard, and it was evident that he had left his place at the entrance of the cave to learn the meaning of it. After a brief wait Ned heard the sound he was listening for and clutched Frank eagerly by the arm. "Move away to the right and repeat the wolf call, only lower," he directed. "When you have done so dodge back here-quick! The guard may shoot!" "What are you going to do?" whispered Bradley. "Be careful! Those Orientals are dangerous people to handle! Be careful!" "I guess we won't start anything we can't finish," Frank grinned. The boy did as requested, and Ned moved up the slope. Bradley sat watching the dim figures disappear and wondered what sort of company he had fallen into. When the call of the pack came from the spot indicated by Ned, there was a rush of footsteps. The guard evidently, was advancing toward the suspicious sound. The next event was so sudden, so unexpected, so startling, that Bradley almost held his breath for an instant. There was a choking gurgle, a blow, and a noise of falling bodies. Then Ned and the guard rolled into the little dip where the others were hiding. Frank, back by this time, threw himself on the struggling mass and the guard was soon handcuffed and gagged. Then Frank sat back and laughed until Dode tried to gag him with a handkerchief. "Come!" Ned whispered, giving the boy a poke in the ribs. "We're going into the cave now! Are you going, Bradley?" he added, turning to the blonde fellow. "If you forget what took place at the club-room in New York, I'll--" "You're on!" whispered Ned. "Now--quick and cautious!" The old lady, sitting dejectedly with her grandson in her arms, in a rough cave-room, saw the boys creeping forward. Ned held up a warning hand and waited. The old lady, evidently knowing what was wanted, pointed to a small opening to the south. "They are in there, two of them, asleep!" she whispered a moment later, when Ned had reached her side. "The others are away!" "And the other boy?" asked Ned, anxiously. "He is with them," was the gratifying reply. It was Frank who accompanied Ned into the sleeping chamber where the heads of the conspiracy lay asleep. It was Frank who snapped the manacles on the wrist of the one who was lying across the entrance as a guard. The supreme head of the wicked conspiracy struggled, half awake, as Ned slipped the handcuffs on and searched him for weapons. But it was all over in a moment, much to the amazement of Bradley, who, attracted by a gleam of light, looked through the low opening to see the searchlights of the Boy Scouts lighting up two angry faces. The prince--the real prince this time!--was asleep on a costly rug not far away. Later, when awakened, his attention was at once attracted to Mike III., who made a pretty good playfellow for him for the time being. For there was little sleep in the Boy Scout Camera Club camp that night. When the boys, the old lady, the prince and the others came out of the cave, just as the moon was showing above the rim of the world, a rocket was mounting the sky to the north. "One of the boys!" Ned exclaimed. "I reckon something is wrong there!" But nothing was wrong there--nothing at all, so far as the boys were concerned. Oliver and Teddy had succeeded in capturing the man who was watching the camp. Pretending to fall asleep by the fire, they had lain in wait for the spy and captured him just as he was in the act of setting fire to the tent. Dode accompanied Mrs. Brady and her grandson to the cabin, where, at her request, he remained a welcome guest for many days. When the stories of the night had been told Jack, Jimmie, and the three secret service men made their appearance, puffing from their long climb. Then new stories had to be told, and the prince was by no means slow in telling of his adventures in the hills. "The boy lies!" the leader of the conspirators declared. "I had nothing to do with the boy! I was not here when he was brought in. I came on separate business with one of the men already here, and did not know of the lad's presence here until to-night, and even then I did not know who he was." "All the others will swear to that," Bradley said, "in an attempt to save the man's life by sacrificing their own." "Never mind," Ned said, "you can testify to his interest in the abduction." "I don't know a thing about it," was the reply. "I was hired to watch you in New York, and to bring Mike III. in here. I never saw this man while here--never saw the prince. I don't even know how they got Mike III. from his father! They kept me in ignorance of all their moves." "Well," laughed Ned, "then we'll fall back on the confession that has been made." "Confession!" repeated the others. "Who has confessed?" "The photograph!" smiled Ned, taking out the two pictures in which the man and the prince were shown. "The pictures show this man in the company of the prince, and the prince will tell the rest. This closes the case." "When are you going out?" asked the chief of the secret service men. "Why," replied Ned, "I promised the outlaws that I would get away to-morrow morning. I'm going to keep my word!" "You'd better go out with us and travel in the machines, then," said the other. "And leave Uncle Ike?" demanded Jimmie. "Not for me! I'm going to ride that blessed mule to Cumberland, and ship him to New York." And he actually did! While the others were riding at their ease in the racers, Jimmie was urging his mule along the country road, alighting now and then to let him thrust a soft muzzle into a pocket in quest of sugar. At Cumberland Ned met Mike II., who was going in to spend a long time with his mother and the boy. He had sent the son in by a Washington friend, he said! That was all! Dode, he said, would be asked to remain there permanently. No one even knew how much the father knew of the trick to be played with his son. And so, save for a few raveled ends, the story of the Boy Scout Camera Club is told. Bradley was given a position by Oliver's father, and became very friendly with the boys. He insists to this day that he did not know about the abduction of the prince. The conspirators were turned over to their own government, and there the record ends, though none of them was ever seen out of prison again! Those who wish to follow the Boy Scouts farther can do so by reading the next book of this series, entitled: "The Boy Scout Electrician; or, the Hidden Dynamo."