The Progress of the Century

by Unknown

SPECIAL OPERATIONS

Amputations and Compound Fractures.—Having now traced the different modes of thought which have aided surgical progress in the nineteenth century and the improved means of investigation, let us turn finally to the progress in individual operations. As to amputations and compound fractures, I have already indicated the immense improvements which have followed the introduction of anæsthesia, and especially of antisepsis, which have brought the mortality of amputations down from fifty or sixty per cent. to ten or fifteen per cent., and in compound fractures, once so dreaded, since the mortality was not infrequently as high as two out of three, to a relatively insignificant danger.

Tumors.—In no department, perhaps, has the introduction of antisepsis, and the use of catgut and silk ligatures after the antiseptic method, brought about a greater improvement than in operations for tumors. The startling reluctance of Sir Astley Cooper to operate on King George IV. for so simple and small a tumor as a wen, lest erysipelas might follow and even destroy his life, is in marked contrast with the success and therefore the boldness of modern surgeons. Tumors in all parts of the body, whether they be external or internal, whether they involve the wall of the chest or are inside the abdomen, are now removed with almost perfect safety. Anæsthesia has made it possible to dissect out tumors in so dangerous a region as the neck, where the surgeon is confronted with adhesions to the jugular vein, the carotid artery, and the nerves of the neck and of the arm, with the greatest impunity. Such an operation not uncommonly lasts from three-quarters of an hour to an hour and a half, and involves often the removal of two or three inches of the jugular vein and many of the large nerves, the removal of which a few years ago would have been deemed an impossibility.

Goitre.—One of the most striking instances of progress is operations on goitre. Writing in 1876, the late Professor Samuel D. Gross noted it as something remarkable that Dr. Green, of Portland, Maine, had removed seven goitres with two deaths, and the late Dr. Maury, of Philadelphia, had extirpated two goitres with one death. In marked contrast to this Professor Kocher, of Berne, in 1895, reported one thousand cases, of which eight hundred and seventy were non-cancerous, and he lost of these last but eleven cases, or a little over one per cent. In 1898 he reported six hundred additional cases, with only one death in the five hundred and fifty-six non-cancerous cases, or a mortality of only 0.1 per cent. It will be seen, therefore, that an operation which a few years ago was excessively fatal has become almost, one might say, a perfectly safe operation.

Surgery of the Bones.—Operations on bones, apart from amputations, show also a similar improvement. In cases of deformity following fracture we now do not hesitate to cut down upon the bone and refracture it or remove the deformed portion, join the ends together, dress the part in plaster of Paris to secure fixation, and have the patient recover with little or no fever and no suppuration. Above the elbow a large nerve runs in a furrow in the arm bone, and in case of fracture this is liable to be torn and a portion of it destroyed. The result of it is paralysis of all the muscles on the back of the forearm from the elbow down and consequent inability to extend either wrist or fingers, making the hand almost useless. In a number of cases the nerve has been sought for and found, but the ends have been too far apart for successful union and sewing them together. In such cases we do not hesitate now, in order to bring the two ends of the nerve together, to remove one or two inches of the arm bone, wire the shortened bone, sew the now approximated ends of the nerve together, put the arm in plaster, and as soon as the wound is healed, with appropriate later treatment to the muscles we can obtain in a reasonable number of cases a perfect, or almost perfect, union of the nerves with a re-establishment of the usefulness of the hand.

In very many cases the bones are deformed as a result of rickets, and in some cases in consequence of hip-joint disease. In such cases the leg is crooked or flexed, and cannot be used for walking. Such cases of stiff joints and crooked legs are now operated on, one might say, wholesale. At the International Medical Congress, held in Copenhagen in 1884, Professor Macewen, of Glasgow, reported 1800 operations on 1267 limbs in 704 patients, in which he had sawn or chiselled through the bones so as to fracture them, placed them in a straight position, and after a few weeks the bone has become consolidated and the leg or arm made straight. Every one of these operations was successful, excepting five cases, and even these deaths were not due to the operation, but to some other disorder, such as an unexpected attack of pneumonia, diphtheria, or scarlet fever.

Surgery of the Head and Brain.—In the surgery of the head we find one of the most remarkable illustrations of the modern progress of surgery. Fractures of the skull have been the most dangerous and fatal of accidents until within a short time. Of course, many of them must necessarily, even now, be fatal, from the widespread injury to the bones and the brain. But our modern methods, by which we can disinfect the cavities of the ear, the nose, and the mouth, with which these fractures often communicate, and through these avenues become infected, are so successful that such cases, instead of being looked upon as hopeless, are in a majority of instances followed by recovery. Even gun-shot wounds, in which the ball may remain inside the cavity of the head, are successfully dealt with, unless the injury produced by the ball has been necessarily fatal from the start. Fluhrer, of New York, has reported a very remarkable case of gun-shot wound, in which the ball entered at the forehead, traversed the entire brain, was deflected at the back of the skull, and then pursued its course farther downward in the brain. By trephining the skull at the back he found the ball, passed a rubber drainage tube through the entire brain from front to back, and had the satisfaction of seeing the patient recover.

Until 1884 it was excessively difficult to locate with any degree of accuracy a tumor within the brain, but in that year Dr. Bennett, of London, for the first time accurately located a tumor within the skull without there being the slightest evidence on the exterior of its existence, much less of its location. Mr. Godlee (surgeons in England are not called “Dr.,” but “Mr.”) trephined the skull at the point indicated, found the tumor, and removed it. True, this patient died, but the possibility of accurately locating a tumor of the brain, reaching it and removing it, was now demonstrated, which is far more important to humanity at large than whether this individual patient survived or not. Since then there have been a very large number of tumors successfully removed. The latest statistics are those of Von Bergmann, of Berlin, in 1898. He collected 273 operations for brain tumors, of which 169 (61.9 per cent.) recovered, and 104 (38.1 per cent.) died. This is by far the best percentage of results so far reported, but there is reason to believe that with the constant improvement in our ability to locate such tumors and in our methods of removing them, the mortality rate will be still further lessened.

Even more successful than the surgery of brain tumors has been the surgery of abscess of the brain. I have no available statistics of the exact numbers, but it is certain that several hundred have been operated on, and with even better success than in the case of brain tumors. The most frequent cause for such abscesses is old and neglected disease of the ear. No child suffering from a “running from the ear,” which is especially apt to follow scarlet fever and other similar disorders, should be allowed to pass from under the most skilled treatment until a cure is effected. This is the commonest cause of abscess of the brain. The inflammation in the ear, which begins in the soft lining of the cavities of the ear, finally extends to the bone, and after years of intermittent discharge, will suddenly develop an abscess of the brain, which, if not relieved, will certainly be fatal. Prompt surgical interference alone can save life, and, happily, though we cannot promise recovery in all, a very large percentage of success is assured.

In epilepsy, as a result of injuries of the head, in a moderate number of cases, we can obtain a cure of the disease by operation, but in the great majority of cases, and, one may say, practically in all of the cases in which the epilepsy originates “of itself,” that is to say, without any known cause, it is useless to operate, certainly at least after the epileptic habit has been formed. Possibly were operation done at the very beginning we might obtain better results than experience thus far has shown us is possible.

Very many cases of idiocy are constantly brought to surgeons in the hope that something can be done for these lamentable children. Unfortunately, at present surgery holds out but little hope in such cases. In a few exceptional instances it may be best to operate, but a prudent surgeon will decline to do any operation in the vast majority of cases.

Surgery of the Chest and Heart.—The chest is the region of the body which has shown the least progress of all, and yet even here the progress is very marked. When, as a result of pleurisy, fluid accumulates on one side of the chest, even displacing the heart, we now do not hesitate to remove an inch or two of one or more ribs and thoroughly drain the cavity, with not only a reasonable, but in a majority of cases, one may almost say, a certain, prospect of cure. We have also entered upon the road which will lead us in time to a secure surgery of the lung itself. A few cases of abscess, of serious gun-shot wound, attended by otherwise fatal hemorrhage, and even of tubercular cavities in the lungs have been successfully dealt with, but the twentieth century will see, I have no doubt, brilliant results in thoracic surgery.

One of the most striking injuries of the chest has recently assumed a new importance, viz., wounds of the heart itself. In several instances an opening has been made in the bony and muscular walls of the chest, and a wound of the heart itself has been sewed up. The number is as yet small, but there have been several recoveries, which lead us to believe that here, too, the limits of surgery have by no means been reached.

Surgery of the Abdomen.—Of the abdomen and the pelvis a very different story can be told. These cavities might almost be called the playground of the surgeon, and the remarkable results which have been obtained warrant us in believing that even greater results are in store for us in the future.

In the earlier part of this article I spoke of the advantages of the study of the pathological anatomy or the diseased condition of individual organs. Perhaps no better illustration of the value of this can be given than in the studies of appendicitis. This operation has been one of the contributions to the surgery of the world in which America has been foremost. While there were one or two earlier papers, Willard Parker, of New York, in 1867, first made the profession listen to him when he urged that abscesses appearing above the right groin should be operated on and the patient’s life saved. But it was not until Fitz, of Boston, in 1888, published his paper, in which he pointed out, as a result of a study of a series of post-mortem examinations of persons dying from such an abscess above the right groin, that the appendix was the seat of the trouble, that this so frequent disease was rightly understood and rightly treated.

As a result of the facts gathered in his paper, the treatment was perfectly clear, not only that we ought to operate in cases of abscess, but that in the case of patients suffering from two or more attacks, and often from even one attack of appendicitis, the appendix should be removed to prevent such abscess.

The mortality in cases in which such an abscess has formed is, perhaps, quite twenty or twenty-five per cent., whereas, if patients are operated on “in the interval,” that is to say, between attacks, when the abdominal cavity is free from pus, the mortality is scarcely more than two or three per cent., and may be even less than that.

Surgeons are often asked whether appendicitis is not a fad, and whether our grandfathers ever had appendicitis, etc. As a matter of fact, in my early professional days, appendicitis was well known. It was called “localized peritonitis” or localized “abscess,” but while the disease was very frequent, its relation to the appendix was not recognized until from his study of its pathology an American pointed it out. Even now European surgeons, with a few exceptions, are not alive to the need for operation in such cases.

There is little doubt that the great prevalence of grippe during the last few years has increased the number of cases of appendicitis, both of them being catarrhal conditions of the lining membrane of the same continuous tract of the lungs, the mouth, the stomach, and the intestines.

One of the most fatal accidents that can befall a patient is to have an ulcer of the stomach perforate so that the contents of the stomach escape into the general abdominal cavity. Until 1885 no one ventured to operate in such a case. In an inaugural dissertation by Tinker, of Philadelphia, two hundred and thirty-two cases of such perforating ulcers of the stomach were reported, of which one hundred and twenty-three recovered, a mortality of 48.81 per cent. In not a few of them, if prompt instead of late surgical help had been invoked, a very different result would have been reported. If no operation had been done, the mortality would have been one hundred per cent.

In cancer of the stomach itself we are able, as a rule, to make a positive diagnosis only when a perceptible tumor is found. By that time so many adhesions have formed, and the infection has involved the neighboring glands to such an extent, that it is impossible to remove the tumor, but the statistics even here are not without encouragement, at least for comfort if not for life. In many cases the tumor has been removed and the stomach and intestine joined together by various devices, and the mortality, which is necessarily great, has been reduced by Czerny to twelve per cent. and by Carle to seven per cent. Even the entire stomach has been removed in several cases, and recovery has followed in about one-half. Most of these patients, however, have died from a return of the disease.

When, as a result of swallowing caustic lye or other similar substances, the gullet (the œsophagus) becomes contracted to such an extent that no food can be swallowed, we now establish an opening into the stomach through which a tube is inserted at meal-time, and the patient has his breakfast, dinner, and supper poured into his stomach through the tube. If the stricture of the œsophagus is from malignant disease, of course this only prolongs life by preventing a horrible death by starvation, but in cases in which it is non-malignant life is indefinitely prolonged. The mortality of such an operation is very small.

By a freak of nature or by disease the stomach sometimes is narrowed in the middle, forming what is called an “hour-glass stomach.” In such a case we open the abdomen, make an opening into the two parts of the stomach and unite the two so that we re-establish the single cavity of the stomach. The mortality of the operation is very slight, eight per cent. Again, sometimes the stomach becomes unduly dilated, thus interfering seriously with its function. A number of surgeons in such cases have simply folded over the wall of the stomach upon itself and have sewed the two layers together, taking a plait or “tuck” in the stomach wall, and have restored it to its normal capacity and function.

One of the most important advances has been made in the treatment of gall stones. The bile in the gall bladder is in a state of quiescence, which is favorable to a deposit of crystals from the bile. These crystals become agglutinated together into larger or smaller solid masses called gall stones. Sometimes the number of these is very small, from one to four or five; sometimes they accumulate in enormous numbers, several hundreds having been reported in a number of instances. When they are small they can escape through the duct of the gall bladder into the bowel and create no disturbance, but when they are large, so that they cannot make their escape, they not uncommonly are causes not only of serious discomfort and prolonged ill-health, but often prove fatal. Nowadays one of the safest operations of surgery is to open the abdomen and the gall bladder and remove this menace to life, and the great majority of such patients recover without any untoward symptoms. Even large abscesses of the liver, and, what is still more extraordinary, large tumors of the liver, are now removed successfully. A year ago all of the reported cases of tumor of the liver were collected which had been operated from 1888 to 1898, seventy-six in all. The termination in two cases was unknown, but of the other seventy-four, sixty-three recovered and eleven died, a mortality of only 14.9 per cent.

The surgery of the intestines by itself is a subject which could well occupy the entire space allowed to this article. I can only, in a very superficial way, outline what has been done. Hernia or rupture is a condition in which through an opening in the abdominal wall a loop of the bowel escapes. If it can be replaced and kept within the abdomen by a suitable truss this was the best we could do till within the last ten or fifteen years. The safety and the painlessness of modern surgery which have resulted from the introduction of anæsthesia and antisepsis are such that now no person suffering from such a hernia, unless for some special personal reason, should be allowed to rely upon a truss, which is always a more or less treacherous means of retaining the hernia. We operate on all such cases now with impunity. Coley has recently reported a series of six hundred and thirty-nine cases, all of which recovered with the exception of one patient. Even in children, if a truss worn for a reasonable time, a year or so, does not cure the rupture, operation affords an admirable prospect of cure.

Every now and then a band forms inside the abdomen, stretching like a string across the cavity. If a loop of bowel slips under such a band, it can be easily understood that total arrest of the intestinal contents ensues, a condition incompatible with life. There are other causes for such “intestinal obstruction,” which are too technical to be described in detail, but this may be taken as a type of all. It is impossible, of course, to tell before opening the abdomen precisely the cause of the obstruction, but the fact is quickly determined in most cases. If we open the abdomen promptly, we can cut such a band or remove the other causes of obstruction in the majority of cases, and if the operation has not been too long delayed, the prospect of entire recovery is good. The mortality which has followed such operations has been considerable, and by that I mean, say, over twenty per cent., but a very large number of the fatal cases have been lost because the operation has been delayed. In fact, it may be stated very positively that the mere opening of the abdomen to find out precisely the nature of any disease or injury is attended with but little danger. If further surgical interference is required, the danger will be increased proportionately to the extent and gravity of such interference. But “exploratory operations,” as we call them, are now undertaken constantly with almost uniform success.

Even in cancer of the bowel, we can prolong life, if we cannot save it. Cancer of the bowel sooner or later produces “obstruction” and so destroys life, but in such cases we can either make a permanent opening in the bowel above the cancer, and so relieve the constant pain and distress which is caused by the obstruction, or, in a great many cases, we make an opening in the bowel above the cancer, and another below it, and, by uniting the two openings, if I may so express it, “side-track” the contents of the bowel. If the cancer has no adhesions and the patient’s condition allows of it, we can cut out the entire portion of the bowel containing the cancer, unite the two ends, and thus re-establish the continuity of the intestinal canal. As much as eight feet, nearly one-third of the entire length of the bowel, have been removed by Shepherd, of Montreal, and yet the patient recovered and lived a healthy life.

Similarly in gun-shot wounds, stab wounds, etc., involving the intestine, the modern surgeon does not simply stand by with folded hands and give opium and morphine to make the patient’s last few hours or days relatively comfortable, but he opens the abdomen, finds the various perforations, closes them, and recovery has followed even in cases in which as many as seventeen wounds of the intestine have been produced by a gun-shot wound.

The kidney, until thirty years ago, was deemed almost beyond our reach, but now entire volumes have been written on the surgery of the kidney, and it is, one might say, a frequent occurrence to see the kidney exposed, sewed fast if it is loose, opened to remove a stone in its interior, drained if there be an abscess, or, if it be hopelessly diseased, it is removed in its entirety. The other kidney, if not diseased, becomes equal to the work of both.

Of the pelvic organs, it would not be becoming to speak in detail, but one operation I can scarcely omit: namely, ovariotomy. One of my old teachers was Washington L. Atlee, who, with his brother, was among the first ovariotomists in this country who placed the operation on a firm foundation. I heard a very distinguished physician in 1862, in a lecture to his medical class, denounce such men as “murderers”; but to-day how differently does the entire profession look upon the operation! Instead of condemning the surgeon because he did remove such a tumor, the profession would condemn him because he did not remove it. The operation had its rise in America. Ephraim McDowell, of Kentucky, in 1809, first did the operation which now reflects so much credit upon modern surgery. The mortality of the Atlees was about one in three. Now, owing to the immense improvement introduced by the antiseptic methods, the deaths, in competent hands, are not over five per cent., or even three per cent.

The limits of this article compel me to stop with the story very imperfectly told, but yet, perhaps, it has been sufficient in detail to show somewhat of the astonishing progress of surgery within the century, but especially within the last quarter of the century.

About two decades ago one of the foremost surgeons of London, Mr. Erichsen, said, in a public address, that “surgery had reached its limits.” How short was his vision is shown by the fact that surgery at that time was just at the beginning of its most brilliant modern chapter.

We have reached, in many respects, apparently, the limits of our success, but just as anæsthesia and antisepsis and the Röntgen rays have opened new fields wholly unsuspected until they were proclaimed, so I have no doubt that the twentieth century will see means and methods devised which will put to shame the surgery of to-day as much as the surgery of to-day puts to shame that of thirty years ago, and still more of a century ago. The methods by which this will be attained will be by the more thorough and systematic study of disease and injury, so as to better our means of diagnosis, and so prepare us for immediate surgical interference, instead of delaying it, as we now do in many cases, for want of certain knowledge; by the use of new chemical and pharmaceutical means to perfect our antisepsis and possibly to introduce other methods of treatment; but, above all, we shall obtain progress by the exact experimental methods of the laboratory. We can never make progress except by trying new methods. New methods must be tried either on man or on animals, and as the former is not allowable, the only way remaining to us is to test all new methods, drugs, and applications first upon animals. He who restricts, and, still more, he who would abolish our present experiments upon animals, is, in my opinion, the worst foe to the human race, and to animals, as well, for they, as well as human beings, obtain the benefit derived from the method. He may prate of his humanity, but he is the most cruel man alive.

W. W. Keen.

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ELECTRICITY

The great importance which electricity has attained in many departments of human activity is so constantly evident that we have difficulty in realizing how short is the time which has been occupied in its development. The latter half of the nineteenth century must ever remain memorable, not only for the great advances in nearly all the useful arts, but for the peculiarly rapid electric progress, and the profound effect which it has had upon the lives and business of the people. In the preceding century we find no evidences of the application of electricity to any useful purpose. Few of the more important principles of the science were then known. Franklin’s invention of the lightning-rod was not intended to utilize electric force, but to guard life and property from the perils of the thunder-storm. The numerous instructive experiments in frictional electricity, the first-known form of electric manifestation except lightning, made clear certain principles, such as conduction and insulation, and served to distinguish the two opposite electric conditions known as positive and negative. Franklin’s kite experiment confirmed the long-suspected identity of lightning and electric sparks. It was not, however, until the discovery by Alexander Volta, in 1799, of his pile, or battery, that electricity could take its place as an agent of practical value. Volta, when he made this great discovery, was following the work of Galvani, begun in 1786. But Galvani in his experiments mistook the effect for the cause, and so missed making the unique demonstration that two different metals immersed in a solution could set up an electric current. Volta, a professor in the University of Pavia and a foreign member of the Royal Society of England, communicated his discovery to the president of the society in March, 1800, and brought to the notice of the world the first means for obtaining a steady flow of electricity. Before this event electric energy had been known to the experimenter in pretty effects of attraction and repulsion of light objects, in fitful flashes of insignificant power, or, as it appeared in nature, in the fearful bursts of energy during a thunders-torm, uncontrolled and erratic. The analogous and closely related phenomena of magnetism had already found an important application in the navigator’s compass.

The simplest facts of electro-magnetism, upon which much of the later electrical developments depend, remained entirely unknown until near the close of the first quarter of the nineteenth century. Magnetism itself, as exemplified in loadstone or in magnetized iron or steel, had long before been consistently studied by Dr. Gilbert, of Colchester, England, and in 1600 his great work, De Magnete, was published. It is a first example, and an excellent one, too, of the application of the inductive method, so fruitful in after-years. The restraints which a superstitious age had imposed upon nature study were gradually removed, and at the beginning of the century just past occasional decided encouragement began to be given to physical research. It was this condition which put into the hands of Humphry Davy, of the Royal Institution, in London, at the opening of the century, a voltaic battery of some 250 pairs of plates. With this a remarkably fruitful era of electric discovery began. In 1802 Davy first showed the electric arc or “arch” on a small scale between pieces of carbon. He also laid the foundation for future electro-chemical work by decomposing by the battery current potash and soda, and thus isolating the alkali metals, potassium and sodium, for the first time. This was in 1807, and the result was not only to greatly advance the youthful science of chemistry, but to attract the attention of the world to a new power in the hands of the scientific worker, electric current. A fund was soon subscribed by “a few zealous cultivators and patrons of science,” interested in the discovery of Davy, and he had at his service in 1801 no less than 2000 cells of voltaic battery. With the intense currents obtained from it he again demonstrated the wonderful and brilliant phenomenon of the electric arc, by first closing the circuit of the battery through terminals of hardwood charcoal and then separating them for a short distance. A magnificent arch of flame was maintained between the separated ends, and the light from the charcoal pieces was of dazzling splendor. Thus was born into the world the electric arc light, of which there are now many hundreds of thousands burning nightly in our own country alone.

Davy probably never imagined that his brilliant experiment would soon play so important a part in the future lighting of the world. He may never have regarded it as of any practical value. In fact, many years elapsed before any further attempt was made to utilize the light of the electric arc. The reason for this is not difficult to discover. The batteries in existence were crude and gave only their full power for a very short time after the circuit was closed. They were subject to the very serious defect of rapid polarization, whereby the activity was at once reduced. A long period elapsed before this defect was removed. Davy in his experiments had also noted the very intense heat of the electric arc, and found that but few substances escaped fusion or volatilization when placed in the heated stream between the carbon electrodes. Here again he was pioneer in very important and quite recent electric work, employing the electric furnace, which has already given rise to several new and valuable industries.

The conduction of electricity along wires naturally led to efforts to employ it in signalling. As early as 1774 attempts were made by Le Sage, of Geneva, to apply frictional electricity to telegraphy. His work was followed before the close of the century by other similar proposals. Volta’s discovery soon gave a renewed impetus to these efforts. It was easy enough to stop and start a current in a line of wire connecting two points, but something more than that was requisite. A good receiver, or means for recognizing the presence or absence of current in the wire or circuit, did not exist. The art had to wait for the discovery of the effects of electric current upon magnets and the production of magnetism by such currents. Curiously, even in 1802 the fact that a wire conveying a current would deflect a compass needle was observed by Romagnosi, of Trente, but it was afterwards forgotten, and not until 1819 was any real advance made.

It was then that Oersted, of Copenhagen, showed that a magnet tends to set itself at right angles to the wire conveying current and that the direction of turning depends on the direction of the current. The study of the magnetic effects of electric currents by Arago, Ampère, and the production of the electro-magnet by Sturgeon, together with the very valuable work of Henry and others, made possible the completion of the electric telegraph. This was done by Morse and Vail in America, and almost simultaneously by workers abroad, but, before Morse had entered the field, Professor Joseph Henry had exemplified by experiments the working of electric signalling by electro-magnets over a short line. It was Henry, in fact, who first made a practically useful electro-magnet of soft iron. The history of the electric telegraph teaches us that to no single individual is the invention due. The Morse system had been demonstrated in 1837, but not until 1844 was the first telegraph line built. It connected Baltimore and Washington, and the funds for defraying its cost were only obtained from Congress after a severe struggle. This can easily be understood, for electricity had not up to that time ever been shown to have any practical usefulness. The success of the Morse telegraph was soon followed by the establishment of telegraph lines as a means of communication between all the large cities and populous districts. Scarcely ten years elapsed before the possibility of a transatlantic telegraph was mooted. The cable laid in 1858 was a failure. A few words passed, and then the cable broke down completely. This was found to be due to defects in construction. A renewed effort to lay a cable was made in 1866, but disappointment again followed: the cable broke in mid-ocean and the work again ceased. The great task was successfully accomplished in the following year, and the pluck and pertinacity of those who were staking their capital, if not their reputations for business sagacity, were amply rewarded. Even the lost cable of 1866 was found, spliced to a new cable, and completed soon after as a second working line. The delicate instruments for the working of these long cables were due to the genius of Sir William Thomson, now Lord Kelvin, whose other instruments for electrical measurement have for years been a great factor in securing precision both in scientific and practical testing. The number of cables joining the Eastern and Western hemispheres has been increased from time to time, and the opening of a new cable is now an ordinary occurrence, calling for little or no especial note.

The introduction of the electric telegraph was followed by the invention of various signalling systems, the most important being the fire-alarm telegraph, as suggested by Channing and worked out by Farmer. We now, also, have automatic clock systems, in which a master clock controls or gives movement to the hands of distant clock dials by electric currents sent out over the connecting or circuit wires. Automatic electric signals are made when fire breaks out in a building, and alarms are similarly rung when a burglar breaks in. Not only do we have telegraphs which print words and characters, as in the stock “ticker,” but in the form known as the telautograph, invented by Dr. Elisha Gray, the sender writes his message, which writing is at the same time being reproduced at the receiving end of the line. Even pictures for drawings are “wired” by special instruments. The desirability of making one wire connecting two points do a large amount of work, and thus avoiding the addition of new lines, has led to two remarkable developments of telegraphy. In the duplex, quadruplex, and multiplex systems several messages may at the same time be traversing a single wire line without interference one with the other. In the rapid automatic systems the working capacity of the line is increased by special automatic transmitting machines and rapid recorders, and the electric impulses in the line itself follow each other with great speed.

Improvement in this field has by no means ceased, and new systems for rapid transmission are yet being worked out. The object is to enlarge the carrying capacity of existing lines connecting large centres of population. The names of Wheatstone, Stearns, Edison, and Delaney are prominent in connection with this work. For use in telegraphy the originally crude forms of voltaic battery, such as Davy used, were replaced by the more perfect types such as the constant battery of Daniell, the nitric-acid battery of Grove, dating from 1836, and the carbon battery of Bunsen, first brought out in 1842. Such was the power of the Grove and Bunsen batteries that attention was again called to the electric arc and to the possibility of its use for electric illumination. Accordingly, we find that suggestions were soon made for electric-arc lamps, to be operated by these more powerful and constant sources of electric current. The first example of a working type of an arc lamp was that brought to notice by W. E. Staite, in 1847, and his description of the lamp and the conditions under which it could be worked is a remarkably exact and full statement, considering the time of its appearance. Staite even anticipated the most recent phase of development in arc lighting, namely, the enclosure of the light in a partially air-tight globe, to prevent too rapid waste of the carbons by combustion in the air. In a public address at Newcastle-on-Tyne, in 1847, he advocated the use of the arc, so enclosed, in mines, as obviating the danger of fire. But it was a long time before the electric arc acquired any importance as a practical illuminant. There was, indeed, no hope of its success so long as the current had to be obtained from batteries consuming chemicals and zinc. The expense was too great, and the batteries soon became exhausted. In spite of this fact, occasional exhibitions of arc lighting were made, notably in 1856, by Lacassagne and Thiers, in the streets of Paris.

For this service they had invented an arc lamp involving what is known as the differential principle, afterwards applied so extensively to arc lamps. The length of the arc or the distance between the carbons of the lamp was controlled with great nicety, and the light thus rendered very steady. Even as late as 1875 batteries were occasionally used to work single electric arc lamps for public exhibitions, or for demonstration purposes in the scientific departments of schools. The discovery of the means of efficiently generating electricity from mechanical power constitutes, however, the key-note of all the wonderful electrical work of the closing years of the nineteenth century. It made electrical energy available at low cost. Michael Faraday, a most worthy successor of Davy at the Royal Institution, in studying the relations between electric currents and magnets, made the exceedingly important observation that a wire, if moved in the field of a magnet, would yield a current of electricity. Simple as the discovery was, its effect has been stupendous. Following his science for its own sake, he unwittingly opened up possibilities of the greatest practical moment. The fundamental principle of the future dynamo electric machine was discovered by him. This was in 1831. Faraday’s investigations were so complete and his deductions so masterly, that little was left to be done by others. Electro-magnetism was supplemented by magneto-electricity. Both the electric motor and the dynamo generator were now potentially present with us. Faraday contented himself with pointing the way, leaving the technical engineer to follow. In one of Faraday’s experiments a copper disk mounted on an axis passing through its centre was revolved between the poles of a large steel magnet. A wire touched the periphery of the disk at a selected position with respect to the magnet, and another was in connection with the axis. These wires were united through a galvanometer or instrument for detecting electric current. A current was noted as present in the circuit so long as the disk was turned. Here, then, was the embryo dynamo. The century closed with single dynamo machines of over 5000 horse-power capacity, and with single power stations in which the total electric generation by such machines is 75,000 to 100,000 horse-power. So perfect is the modern dynamo that out of 1000 horse-power expended in driving it, 950 or more may be delivered to the electric line as electric energy. The electric motor, now so common, is a machine like the dynamo, in which the principle of action is simply reversed; electric energy delivered from the lines becomes again mechanical motion or power.

Soon after Faraday’s discoveries in magneto-electricity attempts were made to construct generators of electricity from power. But the machines were small, crude, and imperfect, and the results necessarily meagre.

Pixii, in Paris, one year after Faraday’s discovery was announced, made a machine which embodied in its construction a simple commutator for giving the currents a single direction of flow. This is the prototype of the commutators now found on what are called continuous-current dynamos. After Pixii followed Saxton, Clarke, Wheatstone and Cooke, Estohrer, and others, but not until 1854 was any very notable improvement made or suggested. In that year Soren Hjorth, of Copenhagen, described in a patent specification the principle of causing the electric currents generated to traverse coils of wire so disposed as to reinforce the magnetic field of the machine itself. A year subsequently the same idea was again more clearly set out by Hjorth. This is the principle of the modern self-exciting dynamo, the field magnets of which, very weak at the start, are built up or strengthened by the currents from the armature or revolving part of the machine in which power is consumed to produce electricity.

In 1856 Dr. Werner Siemens, of Berlin, well known as a great pioneer in the electric arts, brought out the Siemens armature, an innovation more valuable than any other made up to that time. This was subsequently used in the powerful machines of Wilde and Ladd. It still survives in magneto call-bell apparatus for such work as telephone signalling, in exploders for mines and blasting, and in the simpler types of electroplating dynamos.

The decade between 1860 and 1870 opened a new era in the construction and working of dynamo machines and motors. It is notable for two advances of very great value and importance. Dr. Paccinotti, of Florence, in 1860, described a machine by which true continuous currents resembling battery currents could be obtained. Up to that time machines gave either rapidly alternating or fluctuating currents, not steady currents in one direction. The Paccinotti construction, in modified forms, is now almost universally employed in dynamo machines, and even where the form is now quite different the Paccinotti type has been at least the forerunner, and has undergone modifications to suit special ends in view. Briefly, Paccinotti made his armature of a ring of iron with iron projections between which the coils of insulated wire were wound. Although full descriptions of Paccinotti’s ring armature and commutator were given out in 1864, his work attracted but little attention until Gramme, in Paris, about 1870, brought out the relatively perfect Gramme machine. In the mean time the other great development of the decade took place.

Although Hjorth had, as stated before, put forward the idea that a dynamo generator might itself furnish currents for magnetizing its own magnets, this valuable suggestion was not apparently worked out until 1866, when a machine was constructed for Sir Charles Wheatstone. This appears to have been the first self-exciting machine in existence. Wheatstone read a paper before the Royal Society in February, 1867, “On the Augmentation of the Power of a Magnet by the Reaction thereon of Currents Induced by the Magnet Itself.” This action later became known as the reaction principle in dynamo machines.

As often happens, the idea occurred to other workers in science almost simultaneously, and Dr. Werner Siemens also read a paper in Berlin about a month earlier than that of Wheatstone, clearly describing the reaction principle. Furthermore, a patent specification had been filed in the British Patent Office by S. A. Varley, December 24, 1866, clearly showing the same principle of action, and he was, therefore, the first to put the matter on record. The time was ripe for the appearance of machines closely resembling the types now in such extended use. Gramme, in 1870, adopting a modified form of the Paccinotti ring and commutator, and employing the reaction principle, first succeeded in producing a highly efficient, compact, and durable continuous-current dynamo. The Gramme machine was immediately recognized as a great technical triumph. It was in a sense the culmination of many years of development, beginning with the early attempts immediately following Faraday’s discovery, already referred to. Gramme constructed his revolving armature of a soft iron wire ring, upon which ring a series of small coils of insulated wire were wound in successive radial planes. These coils were all connected with a continuous wire and from the junctions of the coils one with another connections were taken to a range of copper bars insulated from each other, constituting the commutator. In 1872 Von Hefner Alteneck, in Berlin, modified the ring winding of Gramme and produced the “drum winding,” which avoided the necessity for threading wire through the centre of the iron ring as in the Gramme construction. The several coils of the drum were still connected, as in Gramme’s machine, to the successive strips of the commutator.

In modern dynamos and motors the armature, usually constructed of sheet-iron punchings, is a ring with projections as in Paccinotti’s machine, and the coils of wire are in most cases wound separately and then placed in the spaces between the projections, constituting in fact a form of drum winding. In the early 70’s a few Gramme ring and Siemens drum machines had been applied to the running of arc lights, one machine for each light. There were also some Gramme machines in use for electroplating.

At the Centennial Exhibition, held at Philadelphia in 1876, but two exhibits of electric-lighting apparatus were to be found. Of these one was the Gramme and the other the Wallace-Farmer exhibit. The Wallace-Farmer dynamo machine is a type now obsolete. It was not a good design, but the Wallace exhibit contained other examples reflecting great credit on this American pioneer in dynamo work. Some of these machines were very similar in construction to later forms which went into very extensive use. The large search-lights occasionally used in night illumination during the exhibitions were operated by the current from Wallace-Farmer machines. The Gramme exhibit was a remarkable exhibit for its time. Though not extensive, it was most instructive. There were found in it a dynamo running an arc lamp; a large machine for electrolytic work, such as electroplating or electrotyping, and, most novel and interesting of all, one Gramme machine driven by power was connected to another by a pair of wires and the second run as a motor. This in turn drove a centrifugal-pump, and raised water which flowed in a small fall or cataract. A year or two previously the Gramme machine had been accidentally found to be as excellent an electric motor as it was a generating dynamo. The crude motors of Jacobi, Froment, Davenport, Page, Vergnes, Gaume, and many others, were thus rendered obsolete at a stroke. The first public demonstration of the working of one Gramme machine by another was made by Fontaine at the Vienna Exhibition of 1873.

Here, then, was a foreshadowing of the great electric-power transmission plants of to-day; the suggestion of the electric station furnishing power as well as light, and, to a less degree, the promise of future railways using electric power. Replace the centrifugal pump of this modest exhibit by a turbine wheel, reverse the flow of water so as to cause it to drive the electric motor so that the machine becomes a dynamo, and, in like manner, make of the dynamo a motor, and we exemplify in a simple way recent great enterprises using water-power for the generation of current to be transmitted over lines to distant electric motors or lights.

The Centennial Exhibition also marks the beginning—the very birth, it may be said—of an electric invention destined to become, before the close of the century, a most potent factor in human affairs. The speaking telephone of Alexander Graham Bell was there exhibited for the first time to the savants, among whom was the distinguished electrician and scientist Sir William Thomson. For the first time in the history of the world a structure of copper wire and iron spoke to a listening ear. Nay, more, it both listened to the voice of the speaker and repeated the voice at a far-distant point. The instruments were, moreover, the acme of simplicity. Within a year many a boy had constructed a pair of telephones at an expenditure for material of only a few pennies. In its first form the transmitting telephone was the counterpart of the receiver, and they were reversible in function. The transmitter was in reality a minute dynamo driven by the aërial voice waves; the receiver, a vibratory motor worked by the vibratory currents from the transmitter and reproducing the aërial motions. This arrangement, most beautiful in theory, was only suited for use on short lines, and was soon afterwards replaced by various forms of carbon microphone transmitter, to the production of which many inventors had turned their attention, notably Edison, Hughes, Blake, and Hunnings. In modern transmitters the voice wave does not furnish the power to generate the telephone current, but only controls the flow of an already existing current from a battery. In this way the effects obtainable may be made sufficiently powerful for transmission to listeners 1500 miles away.

There is no need to dwell here upon the enormous saving of time secured by the telephone and the profound effect its introduction has had upon business and social life. The situation is too palpable. Nevertheless, few users of this wonderful invention realize how much thought and skill have been employed in working out the details of exchange switchboards, of signalling devices, of underground cables and overhead wires, and of the speaking instruments themselves. Few of those who talk between Boston and Chicago know that in doing so they have for the exclusive use of their voices a total of over 1,000,000 pounds of copper wire in the single line. There probably now exist in the United States alone between 75,000 and 100,000 miles of hard-drawn copper wire for long-distance telephone service, and over 150,000 miles of wire in underground conduits. There are upward of three-quarters of a million telephones in the United States, and, including both overhead and underground lines, a total of more than half a million miles of wire. Approximately one thousand million conversations are annually conveyed.

The possibility of sub-oceanic telephoning is frequently discussed, but the problem thus far is not solved. It involves grave difficulties, and we may hope that its solution is to be one of the advances which will mark the twentieth century’s progress.

The advent of the telephone in 1876 seemed to stimulate invention in the electric field to a remarkable degree. Its immediate commercial success probably acted also to inspire confidence in other proposed electric enterprises. Greater attention than ever before began to be given to the problem of electric lighting. An electric arc lamp, probably the only one in regular use, had been installed at Dungeness Light-house in 1862, after a long set of trials and tests. It was fed by a Holmes magneto-electric machine of the old type, very large and cumbrous for the work. Numerous changes and improvements had before 1878 been made in arc lamps by Serrin, Duboscq, and many others. But the display of electric light during the Paris Exposition of 1878 was the first memorable use of the electric light on a large scale. The splendid illumination of the Avenue de l’Opéra was a grand object-lesson. The source of light was the “electric candle” of Paul Jablochkoff, a Russian engineer. It was a strikingly original and simple arc lamp. Instead of placing the two carbons point to point, as had been done in nearly all previous lamps, he placed them side by side, with a strip of baked kaolin between them. The candle so formed was supported in a suitable holder, whereby, at the lower end, the two parallel carbons were connected with the circuit terminals. By a suitable device the arc was started at the top and burned down. The electric candle seemed to solve the problem of allowing complicated mechanism for feeding the carbons to be discarded; but it survived only a short time. Owing to unforeseen difficulties it was gradually abandoned, after having served a great purpose in directing the attention of the world to the possibilities of the electric arc in lighting.

Inventors in America were not idle. By the close of 1878, Brush, of Cleveland, had brought out his series system of arc lights, including special dynamos, lamps, etc., and by the middle of 1879 had in operation machines each capable of maintaining sixteen arc lamps on one wire. This was, indeed, a great achievement for that time. Weston, of Newark, had also in operation circuits of arc lamps, and the Thomson-Houston system had just started in commercial work with eight arc lamps in series from a single dynamo. Maxim and Fuller, in New York, were working arc lamps from their machines, and capital was being rapidly invested in new enterprises for electric lighting. Some of the great electric manufacturing concerns of to-day had their beginning at that time. Central lighting stations began to be established in cities, and the use of arc lights in street illumination and in stores grew rapidly. More perfect forms of arc lamps were invented, better generating dynamos and regulating apparatus brought out. Factories for arc-light carbon making were built. The first special electrical exhibition was held in Paris in 1881. In the early 80’s, also, the business of arc lighting had become firmly established, and soon the bulk of the work was done under two of the leading systems. These were afterwards brought together under one control, thus securing in the apparatus manufactured a combination of the good features of both. Until about 1892 nearly all the arc lamps in use were worked under the series system, in which the lights are connected one after another on a circuit and traversed by the same current. This current has a standard value, or is a constant current. Sometimes as many as a hundred lamps were on one wire. As the mains for the supply of incandescent lamps at constant pressure, or potential, were extended, attention was more strongly turned to the possibility of working arc lights therefrom.

Within a few years of the close of the century this placing of arc lamps in branches from the same mains which supply incandescent lamps became common, and the enclosure of the arc in a partially air-tight globe, a procedure advocated by Staite, in 1847, was revived by Howard, Marks, and others for saving carbons and attention to the lamp. The enclosed arc lamp was also found to be especially adapted to use in branches of the incandescent lamp circuits, which had in cities become greatly extended. The increasing employment of alternating currents in the distribution of electric energy has led also to the use of alternating current arc lamps, and special current-regulating apparatus is now being applied on a large scale to extended circuits of these lamps. It can be seen from these facts that the art is still rapidly progressing and the field ever widening. A little over twenty years ago practically no arc lamps were used. At the close of the century, they were numbered by hundreds of thousands. The annual consumption of carbons in this country has reached two hundred millions.

Almost simultaneously with the beginning of the commercial work of arc lighting, Edison, in a successful effort to provide a small electric lamp for general distribution in place of gas, brought to public notice his carbon filament incandescent lamp.

A considerable amount of progress had previously been made by various workers in attempting to reduce the volume of light in each lamp and increase the number of lights for a given power expended. Forms of incandescent arc lamps, or semi-incandescent lamps, were tried on a considerable scale abroad, but none have survived. So, also, many attempts to produce a lamp giving light by pure incandescence of solid conductors proved for the most part abortive. Edison himself worked for nearly two years on a lamp based upon the old idea of incandescent platinum strips or wires, but without success. The announcement of this lamp caused a heavy drop in gas shares, long before the problem was really solved by a masterly stroke in his carbon filament lamp. Curiously, the nearest approach to the carbon filament lamp had been made in 1845, by Starr, an American, who described in a British patent specification a lamp in which electric current passed through a thin strip of carbon kept it heated while surrounded by a glass bulb in which a vacuum was maintained. Starr had exhibited his lamps to Faraday, in England, and was preparing to construct dynamos to furnish electric current for them in place of batteries, but sudden death put an end to his labors. The specification describing his lamp is perhaps the earliest description of an incandescent lamp of any promise, and the subsequently recorded ideas of inventors up to the work of Edison seem now to be almost in the nature of retrograde movements. None of them were successful commercially. Starr, who was only twenty-five years of age, is reported to have died of overwork and worry in his efforts to perfect his invention. His ideas were evidently far in advance of his time.

The Edison lamp differed from those which preceded it in the extremely small section of the carbon strip rendered hot by the current, and in the perfection of the vacuum in which it was mounted. The filament was first made of carbonized paper, and afterwards of bamboo carbon. The modern incandescent lamp has for years past been provided with a filament made by a chemical process. The carbon formed is exceedingly homogeneous and of uniform electric resistance. Edison first exhibited his lamp in his laboratory at Menlo Park, New Jersey, in December, 1879; but before it could be properly utilized an enormous amount of work had to be done. His task was not merely the improvement of an art already existing; it was the creation of a new art. Special dynamo machines had to be invented and constructed for working the lamps; switches were needed for connecting and disconnecting lamps and groups of lamps; meters for measuring the consumption of electric energy were wanted; safety fuses and cut-offs had to be provided; electroliers or fixtures to support the lamp were required; and, lastly, a complete system of underground mains with appurtenances was a requisite for city plants.

Even the steam-engines for driving the dynamos had to be remodelled and improved for electric work, and ten years of electric lighting development did more towards the refinement and perfection of steam-engines than fifty years preceding. Steadiness of lights meant the preservation of steady speed in the driving machinery. The Pearl Street station in New York City was the first installation for the supply of current for incandescent lighting in a city district. The constant pressure dynamos were gradually improved and enlarged. The details of all parts of the system were made more perfect, and in the hands of Edison and others the incandescent lamps, originally of high cost, were much cheapened and the quality of the production was greatly improved. Lamps originally cost one dollar each. The best lamps that are made can be had at present for about one-fifth that price. Millions of incandescent lamps are annually manufactured. Great lighting stations furnish the current for the working of these lamps, some stations containing machinery aggregating many thousands of horse-power capacity. Not only do these stations furnish electric energy for the working of arc lamps and incandescent lamps, but, in addition, for innumerable motors ranging in size from the small desk fan of one-tenth horse-power up to those of hundreds of horse-power. The larger sizes replace steam or hydraulic power for elevators, and many are used in shops and factories for driving machinery such as printing-presses, machinery tools, and the like.

In spite of the fact that it was well known that a good dynamo when reversed could be made a source of power, few electric motors were in use until a considerable time after the establishment of the first lighting stations. Even in 1884, at the Philadelphia Electrical Exhibition, only a few electric motors were shown. Not until 1886 or thereafter did the “motor load” of an electric station begin to be a factor in its business success. The motors supplied are an advantageous adjunct, inasmuch as they provide a day load, increasing the output of the station at a time when the lighting load is small and when the machinery in consequence would, without them, have remained idle. The growth of the application of electric motors in the closing years of the century has been phenomenal, even leaving out of consideration their use in electric railways.

Twenty years ago an electric motor was a curiosity; fifty years ago crude examples run by batteries were only to be occasionally found in cabinets of scientific apparatus. Machinery Hall, at the Centennial Exhibition of 1876, typified the mill of the past, never again to be reproduced, with its huge engine and lines of heavy shafting and belts conveying power to the different tools or machines in operation. The modern mill or factory has its engines and dynamos located wherever convenient, its electric lines and numerous motors connected thereto, and each of them either driving comparatively short lines of shafting or attached to drive single pieces of machinery. The wilderness of belts and pulleys which used to characterize a factory is gradually being cleared away, and electric distribution of power substituted. Moreover, the lighting of the modern mill or factory is done from the same electric plant which distributes power.

The electric motor has already partly revolutionized the distribution of power for stationary machinery, but as applied to railways in place of animal power the revolution is complete. The period which has elapsed since the first introduction of electric railways is barely a dozen years. It is true that a few tentative experiments in electric traction were made some time in advance of 1888, notably by Siemens, in Berlin, in 1879 and 1880, by Stephen D. Field, by T. A. Edison, at Menlo Park, by J. C. Henry, by Charles A. Van Depoele, and others. If we look farther back we find efforts such as that of Farmer, in 1847, to propel railway cars by electric motors driven by currents from batteries carried on the cars. These efforts were, of course, doomed to failure, for economical reasons. Electric energy from primary batteries was too costly, and if it had been cheaper, the types of electric motor used yielded so small a return of power for the electric energy spent in driving them that commercial success was out of the question. These early efforts were, however, instructive, and may now be regarded as highly suggestive of later work. Traction by the use of storage batteries carried on an electric car has been tried repeatedly, but appears not to be able to compete with systems of direct supply from electric lines. The plan survives, however, in the electric automobile, many of which have been put into service within a year or two. The electric automobile is not well fitted for country touring; it is best adapted to cities, where facilities for charging and caring for the batteries can be had. Moreover, the electric carriage is of all automobile carriages the most easily controlled, most ready; it emits no smell or hot gases and is nearly noiseless.

About 1850, Hall, a well-known instrument maker of Boston, catalogued a small toy electric locomotive dragging a car upon rails which were insulated and connected with a stationary battery of two Grove cells. This arrangement was sold as a piece of scientific apparatus, and appears to be the first example of an electrically driven vehicle connected by rolling contacts to an immovable energy source. Other early experimenters, such as Siemens, Field, and Daft, subsequently to Hall, used in actual railway work the supply by insulated tracks. This was supplanted later by overhead insulated wires or by the insulated third rail. Siemens & Halske, of Berlin, used a special form of overhead supply in 1881, and during the electrical exhibition in Paris in that year, a street tramway line was run by them. Later, Edison experimented with a third-rail-supply line at Menlo Park; and at Portrush, in Ireland, an actual railway was put in operation by Siemens & Halske, using the third-rail system. This was about 1883. The power of the Portrush railway was that of a water-wheel driving the generating dynamo.

The modern overhead trolley, or under-running trolley, as it is called, seems to have been first invented by Van Depoele, and used by him in practical electric railway work about 1886 and thereafter. The universality of this invention for overhead supply marks the device as a really important advance in the art of electric traction. Van Depoele was also a pioneer in the use of an underground conduit, which he employed successfully in Toronto in 1884. The names of Edward M. Bentley and Walter H. Knight stand out prominently in connection with the first use of an underground conduit, tried under their plans in August, 1884, at Cleveland, on the tracks of the horse-railway company.

We have barely outlined the history of the electric-motor railway up to the beginning of a period of wonderful development, resulting in the almost complete replacement by electric traction of horse traction or tramway lines, all within an interval of scarcely more than ten years.

The year 1888 may be said to mark the beginning of this work, and in that year the Sprague Company, with Frank J. Sprague at its head, put into operation the electric line at Richmond, Virginia, using the under-running trolley. Mr. Sprague had been associated with Edison in early traction work, and was well known in connection with electric-motor work in general. The Richmond line was the first large undertaking. It had about thirteen miles of track, numerous curves, and grades of from three to ten per cent. The enterprise was one of great hardihood, and but for ample financial backing and determination to spare no effort or expenditure conducive to success, must certainly have failed. The motors were too small for the work, and there had not been found any proper substitute for the metal commutator brushes on the motors—a source of endless trouble and of an enormous expense for repairs. Nevertheless, the Richmond installation, kept in operation as it was in spite of all difficulties, served as an object-lesson, and had the effect of convincing Mr. Henry M. Whitney and the directors of the West End Street Railway, of Boston, of the feasibility of equipping the entire railway system of Boston electrically. Meanwhile the merging of the Van Depoele and Bentley-Knight interests into the Thomson-Houston Electric Light Company brought a new factor into the field, the Sprague interests being likewise merged with the Edison General Electric Company.

The West End Company, with two hundred miles of track in and around Boston, began to equip its lines in 1888 with the Thomson-Houston plant. The success of this great undertaking left no doubt of the future of electric traction. The difficulties which had seriously threatened future success were gradually removed.

The electric railway progress was so great in the United States that about January 1, 1891, there were more than two hundred and forty lines in operation. About thirty thousand horses and mules were replaced by electric power in the single year of 1891. In 1892 the Thomson-Houston interests and those of the Edison General Electric Company were merged in the General Electric Company, an event of unusual importance, as it brought together the two great competitors in electric traction at that date. Other electric manufacturers, chief among which was the Westinghouse Company, also entered the field and became prominent factors in railway extension. In a few years horse traction in the United States on tramway lines virtually disappeared. Many cable lines were converted to electric lines, and projects such as the Boston Subway began to be planned. Not the least of the advantages of electric traction is the higher speed attainable with safety. The comfort and cleanliness of the cars, lighted brilliantly at night, and heated in winter by the same source of energy which is used to propel them, are important factors.

All these things, together with the great extension of the lines into suburban and country districts, and the interconnection of the lines of one district with those of another, cannot fail to have a decidedly beneficial effect upon the life, habits, and health of the people. While the United States and Canada have been and still are the theatre of the enormous advance in electric traction, as in other electric work, many electric car lines have in recent years been established in Great Britain and on the continent of Europe. Countries like Japan, Australia, South Africa, and South America have also in operation many electric trolley lines, and the work is rapidly extending. Most of this work, even in Europe, has been carried out either by importation of equipment from America, or by apparatus manufactured there, but following American practice closely. The bulk of the work has been done with the overhead wire and under-running trolley, but there are notable instances of the use of electric conductors in underground slotted conduits, chief of which are the great systems of street railway in New York City.

In Chicago the application of motor-cars in trains upon the elevated railway followed directly upon the practical demonstration at the World’s Fair of the capabilities of third-rail electric traction on the Intramural Elevated Railway, and the system is rapidly extending so as to include all elevated city roads. A few years will doubtless see the great change accomplished.

The motor-car, or car propelled by its own motors, has also been introduced upon standard steam roads to a limited extent as a supplement to steam traction. The earliest of these installations are the one at Nantasket, Massachusetts, and that between Hartford and New Britain, in Connecticut. A number of special high-speed lines, using similar plans, have gone into operation in recent years. The problem of constructing electric motors of sufficient robustness for heavy work and controlling them effectively was not an easy one, and the difficulties were increased greatly because of the placing of the motors under the car body, exposed to wet, to dust and dirt of road. The advantage of the motor-car, or motor-car train, is that the traction or hold upon the track increases with the increase of the weight or load carried. It is thus able to be accelerated rapidly after a stop, and also climb steep grades without slipping its wheels. Nevertheless, there are circumstances which favor the employment of a locomotive at the head of a train, as in steam practice. This is the case in lines where a train of coal or ore cars is drawn by electric mining locomotives. Many such plants are in operation, and, at the same time the electric power is used to drive fans for ventilating, pumps for drainage, electric hoists, etc., besides being used for lighting the mines. The trains in the tunnels of the Metropolitan Underground Railway of London have for many years been operated by steam locomotives with the inevitable escape of steam, foul, suffocating gases, and more or less soot.

A number of years ago the tunnel of the City and South London Railway was put into successful operation with electric locomotives drawing the trains of cars, and the nuisance caused by steam avoided. This work recalls the early efforts of Field, of Daft, and Bentley and Knight in providing an electric locomotive for replacing the steam plant of the elevated roads in New York City. Well-conceived as many of these plans were, electric traction had not reached a sufficient development, and the efforts were abandoned after several more or less successful trials. It is now seen that the motor-car train may advantageously replace the locomotive-drawn train in such instances as these elevated railways.

The three largest and most powerful electric locomotives ever put into service are those which are employed to take trains through the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad tunnel at Baltimore. They have been in service about seven or eight years, and are fully equal in power to the large steam locomotives used on steam roads. Frequently trains of cars, including the steam locomotive itself, are drawn through the tunnel by these huge electric engines, the fires on the steam machines being for the time checked so as to prevent fouling the air of the tunnel. There was opened, in London, in 1900, a new railway called the Central Underground, equipped with twenty-six electric locomotives for drawing its trains. The electric and power equipment, which embodied in itself the latest results of American practice, was also manufactured in America to suit the needs of the road. Other similar railways are in contemplation in London and in other cities of Europe. As on the elevated roads in New York City, the replacement of underground steam traction, where it exists, by electric traction is evidently only a question of a few years.

An electric railway may exemplify a power-transmission system in which power is delivered to moving vehicles. But the distances so covered are not generally more than a few miles from the generating station. Where, however, abundant water-power exists, as at Niagara, or where fuel is very expensive and power is to be had only at great distances from the place at which it is to be used, electricity furnishes the most effective means for transmission and distribution. Between the years 1880 and 1890 the device called alternating current transformer was developed to a considerable degree of perfection. It is, in reality, a modified induction coil, consisting of copper wire and iron, whereby a current sent through one of its coils will induce similar currents in the other coils of apparatus. It has the great advantage of having no moving parts. Faraday, in 1831, discovered the fundamental principle of the modern transformer. Not only, however, will the current in one coil of the apparatus generate by induction a new current in an entirely separate coil or circuit, but by suitably proportioning the windings we may exchange, as it were, a large low-pressure current for a small but high-pressure current, or vice versa. This exchange may be made with a very small percentage of loss of energy. These valuable properties of the transformer have rendered it of supreme importance in recent electrical extension. The first use made of it, in 1885–86, was to transform a high-pressure current into one of low pressure in electric lighting, enabling a small wire to be used to convey electric energy at high pressure, and without much loss, to a long distance from the station. This energy at high pressure reaches the transformer placed within or close to the building to be lighted. A low-pressure safe current is conveyed from the transformer to the wires connected to the lamps. In this way a current of two thousand volts, an unsafe and unsuitable pressure for incandescent lighting, is exchanged for one of about one hundred volts, which is quite safe. In this way, also, the supply station is enabled to reach a customer too far away to be supplied directly with current at one hundred volts, without enormous expense for copper conductors.

The alternating current transformer not only greatly extended the radius of supply from a single station, but also enabled the station to be conveniently located where water and coal could be had without difficulty. It also permitted the distant water-powers to become sources of electric energy for lighting, power, or for other service. For example, a water-power located at a distance of fifty to one hundred miles or more from a city, or from a large manufacturing centre where cost of fuel is high, may be utilized as follows: A power-station will be located upon the site of the water-power, and the dynamos therein will generate electricity at, say, two thousand volts pressure. By means of step-up transformers this will be exchanged for a current of thirty thousand volts for transmission over a line of copper or aluminum wire to the distant consumption area. Here there will be a set of step-down transformers which will exchange the thirty-thousand-volt line current for one of so low a pressure as to be safe for local distribution to lamps, to motors, etc., either stationary or upon a railway. The same transmission plant may simultaneously supply energy for lighting, for power, for heat, and for charging storage batteries. It may, therefore, be employed both day and night.

These long-distance power transmission plants are generally spoken of as “two-phase,” “three-phase,” or “polyphase” systems. Before 1890 no such plants existed. A large number of such installations are now working over distances of a few miles up to one hundred miles. They differ from what are known as single-phase alternating systems in employing, instead of a single alternating current, two, three, or more, which are sent over separate lines, and in which the electric impulses are not simultaneous, but follow each other in regular succession, overlapping each other’s dead points, so to speak. Early suggestions of such a plan, about 1880, and thereafter, by Bailey, Deprez, and others, bore no fruit, and not until Tesla’s announcement of his polyphase system, in 1888, was much attention given to the subject. A widespread interest in Tesla’s work was invoked, but several years elapsed before engineering difficulties were overcome. This work was done mainly by the technical staffs of the large manufacturing companies, and it was necessary to be done before any notable power transmissions on the polyphase system could be established. After 1892 the growth became very rapid.

The falls of Niagara early attracted the attention of engineers to the possibility of utilizing at least a fraction of the power. It was seen that several hundred thousand horse-power might be drawn from it without materially affecting the fall, itself equivalent to several millions of horse-power. A gigantic power-station has lately been established at Niagara, taking water from a distance above the falls and delivering it below the falls through a long tunnel which forms the tail race. Ten water-wheels, located in an immense wheel-pit about two hundred feet deep, each wheel of a capacity of five thousand horse-power, drive large vertical shafts, at the upper end of which are located the large two-phase dynamos, each of five thousand horse-power. The electric energy from these machines is in part raised in pressure by huge transformers for transmission to distant points, such as the city of Buffalo, and a large portion is delivered to the numerous manufacturing plants located at moderate distances from the power-station. Besides the supply of energy for lighting, and for motors, including railways, other recent uses of electricity to which we have not yet alluded are splendidly exemplified at Niagara. Davy’s brilliant discovery of the alkali metals, sodium and potassium, at the opening of the century, showed the great chemical energy of the electric current. Its actions were afterwards carefully studied, notably by the illustrious Faraday, whose discoveries in connection with magnetism and magneto-electricity have been briefly described. The electric current was found to act as a most potent chemical force, decomposing and recomposing many chemical compounds, dissolving and depositing metals. Hence, early in the century arose the art of electroplating of metals, such as electro-gilding, silver-plating, nickel-plating, and copper deposition as in electrotyping. These arts are now practised on a very large scale, and naturally have affected the whole course of manufacturing methods during the century. Moreover, since the introduction of dynamo current, electrolysis has come to be employed in huge plants, not only for separating metals from each other, as in refining them, but in addition for separating them from their ores, for the manufacture of chemical compounds before unknown, and for the cheap production of numerous substances of use in the various arts on a large scale. Vast quantities of copper are refined, and silver and gold often obtained from residues in sufficient amount to pay well for the process.

At Niagara also are works for the production of the metal aluminum from its ores. Similar works exist at other places here and abroad where power is cheap. This metal, which competes in price with brass, bulk for bulk, was only obtainable before its electric reduction at $25 to $30 per pound. The metal sodium is also extracted from soda. A large plant at Niagara also uses the electric current for the manufacture of chlorine for bleach, and caustic soda, both from common salt. Chlorate of potassium is also made at Niagara by electrolysis. The field of electro-chemistry is, indeed, full of great future possibilities. Large furnaces heated by electricity, a single one of which will consume more than a thousand horse-power, exist at Niagara. In these furnaces is manufactured from coke and sand, by the Acheson process, an abrasive material called carborundum, which is almost as hard as diamond, but quite low in cost. It is made into slabs and into wheels for grinding hard substances. The electric furnace furnishes also the means for producing artificial plumbago, or graphite, almost perfectly pure, the raw material being coke powder.

A large amount of power from Niagara is also consumed for the production in special electric arc furnaces of carbide of calcium from coke and lime. This is the source of acetylene gas, the new illuminant, which is generated when water is brought into contact with the carbide. The high temperature of the electric furnace thus renders possible chemical actions which under ordinary furnace heat would not take place. Henri Moissan, a French scientist, well known for his brilliant researches in electric furnace work, has even shown that real diamonds can be made under special conditions in the electric furnace. He has, in fact, probably practised in a small way what has occurred on a grand scale in nature, resulting in diamond fields such as those at Kimberley. One problem less is thus left to be solved. The electro-chemical and kindred arts are practised not alone at Niagara, but at many other places where power is cheap. Extensive plants have grown up, mostly within the five years before the close of the century. All of the great developments in this field have come about within the last decade.

The use of electricity for heating is not confined to electric furnaces, in which the exceedingly high temperature obtainable is the factor giving rise to success. While it is not likely that electricity will soon be used for general heating, special instances, such as the warming of electric cars in winter by electric heaters, the operation of cooking appliances by electric current, the heating of sad-irons and the like, give evidence of the possibilities should there ever be found means for the generation of electric energy from fuel with such high efficiency as eighty per cent. or more. Present methods give, under most favorable conditions, barely ten per cent., ninety per cent. of the energy value of the fuel being unavoidably wasted.

Another application of the heating power of electric currents is found in the Thomson electric welding process, the development of which has practically taken place in the past ten years. In this process an exceedingly large current, at very low electric pressure, traverses a joint between two pieces of metal to be united. It heats the joint to fusion or softening; the pieces are pushed together and welded. Here the heat is generated in the solid metal, for at no time during the operation are the pieces separated. The current is usually obtained from a welding transformer, an example of an extreme type of step-down transformer. Current at several hundred volts passed into the primary winding is exchanged for an enormous current at only two or three volts in the welding circuit in which the work is done. The present uses of this electric welding process are numerous and varied. Pieces of most of the metals and alloys, before regarded as unweldable, are capable of being joined not only to pieces of the same metal, but also to different metals. Electric welding is applied on the large scale, making joints in wires or rods, for welding wagon and carriage wheel tires, for making barrel-hoops and bands for pails, for axles of vehicles, and for carriage framing. It has given rise to special manufactures, such as electrically welded steel pipe or tube, wire fencing, etc. It is used for welding together the joints of steel car-rails, for welding teeth in saws, for making many parts of bicycles, and in tool making. An instance of its peculiar adaptability to unusual conditions is the welding of the iron bands embedded within the body of a rubber vehicle tire for holding the tire in place. For this purpose the electric weld has been found almost essential.

Another branch of electric development concerns the storage of electricity. The storage battery is based upon principles discovered by Gaston Planté, and applied, since 1881, by Brush, by Faure, and others. Some of the larger lighting stations employ as reservoirs of electric energy large batteries charged by surplus dynamo current. This is afterwards drawn upon when the consumer’s load is heavy, as during the evening. The storage battery is, however, a heavy, cumbrous apparatus, of limited life, easily destroyed unless guarded with skill. If a form not possessing these faults be ever found, the field of possible application is almost limitless.

The above by no means complete account of the progress in electric applications during the century just closed should properly be supplemented by an account of the accompanying great advances regarded from the purely scientific aspect. It is, however, only possible to make a brief reference thereto within the limits of this article. The scientific study of electricity and the application of mathematical methods in its treatment has kept busy a host of workers and drawn upon the resources of the ablest minds the age has produced. Gauss, Weber, Ampère, Faraday, Maxwell, Helmholtz, are no longer with us. Of the early founders of the science we have yet such men as Lord Kelvin, formerly Sir William Thomson, Mascart, and others, still zealous in scientific work. Following them are a large number, notable for valuable contributions to the progress of electrical science, in discoveries, in research, and in mathematical treatment of the various problems presented. Modern magnetism took form in the hands of Rowland, Hopkinson, Ewing, and many other able workers. Maxwell’s electro-magnetic theory of light is confirmed by the brilliant researches of the late Dr. Hertz, too early lost to science. Hertz proved that all luminous phenomena are in essence electrical. The wireless telegraphy of to-day is a direct outcome of Hertz’s experiments on electric waves. It is but little more than ten years since Hertz announced his results to the world. His work, supplemented by that of Branly, Lodge, Marconi, and others, made wireless telegraphy a possibility.

The wonderful X-ray, and the rich scientific harvest which has followed the discovery by Röntgen of invisible radiation from a vacuum tube, was preceded by much investigation of the effects of electric discharges in vacuum tubes, and Hittorf, followed by Crookes, had given special study to these effects in very high or nearly perfect vacua. Crookes, though especially enriching science by his work, missed the peculiar X-ray, which, nevertheless, must have been emitted from many of his vacuum tubes, not only in his hands, but in those of subsequent students. It was as late as 1896 that Röntgen announced his discovery. Since that time several other sources of invisible radiation have been discovered, more or less similar in effect to the radiations from a vacuum tube, but emitted, singular as the fact is, from rare substances extracted from certain minerals. Leaving out of consideration the great value of the X-ray to physicians and surgeons, its effect in stimulating scientific inquiry has almost been incalculable. The renewed study of effects of electric discharge in vacuum tubes has already, in the work of such investigators as Lenard, J. J. Thomson, and others, apparently carried the subdivision of matter far beyond the time-honored chemical atom, and has gone far towards showing the essential unity of all the chemical elements. It is as unlikely that the mystery of the material universe will ever be completely solved as it is that we can gain an adequate conception of infinite space or time. But we can at least extend the range of our mental vision of the processes of nature as we do our real vision into space depths by the telescope and spectroscope. There can now be no question that electric conditions and actions are more fundamental than many hitherto so regarded.

The nineteenth century closed with many important problems in electrical science unsolved. What great or far-reaching discoveries are yet in store, who can tell? What valuable practical developments are to come, who can predict? The electrical progress has been great—very great—but after all only a part of that grander advance in so many other fields. The hands of man are strengthened by the control of mighty forces. His electric lines traverse the mountain passes as well as the plains. His electric railway scales the Jungfrau. But he still spends his best effort, and has always done so, in the construction and equipment of his engines of destruction, and now exhausts the mines of the world of valuable metals, for ships of war, whose ultimate goal is the bottom of the sea. In this also electricity is made to play an increasingly important part. It trains the guns, loads them, fires them. It works the signals and the search-lights. It ventilates the ship, blows the fires, and lights the dark spaces. Perhaps all this is necessary now, and, if so, well. But if a fraction of the vast expenditure entailed were turned to the encouragement of advance in the arts and employments of peace in the twentieth century, can it be doubted that, at the close, the nineteenth century might come to be regarded, in spite of its achievements, as a rather wasteful, semi-barbarous transition period?

Elihu Thomson.

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PHYSICS

On January 7, 1610, Galileo, turning his telescope towards Jupiter, was the first to see the beautiful system of that planet in which the universe is epitomized. He had already studied the variegated surface of the moon, and he had seen the spots upon the sun. A little later, in spite of the feeble power of his instrument, he had discovered that the sun rotates upon an axis, and something of the wonderful nature of the planet Saturn had been revealed to him. The overwhelming evidence thus afforded of the truth of the hypothesis of Copernicus made him its chief exponent. The time had come for man to know, as he had never known or even dreamed before, his true relation to the universe of which he was so insignificant a part. In a single year nearly all of these capital discoveries were made. It was truly an era of intellectual expansion; never before and never since has man’s intellectual horizon enlarged with such enormous rapidity. One needs little imagination to share with this ardent philosopher the enthusiasm of the moment when, because some, fearing the evidence of their senses, refused to look through the slender tube, he wrote to Kepler: “Oh, my dear Kepler, how I wish we could have one hearty laugh together!... Why are you not here? What shouts of laughter we should have at this glorious folly!”

Galileo died in 1642, and in the same year Newton was born. When twenty-four years old he “began to think of gravity extending to the orb of the moon,” and before the end of the century he had discovered and established the great law of universal gravitation. Thus, at the end of the seventeenth century, the foundations of modern physics were in place. During the eighteenth century they were much built upon, but it was the nineteenth that witnessed not only the greatest advance in detail, but the most important generalizations made since the time of Galileo and Newton.

In endeavoring to present to the intelligent but perhaps unscientific reader a brief review of the accomplishments of that “wonderful century” in the domain of physics, one must not attempt more than an outline of greater events, and it will be convenient to arrange them under the several principal subdivisions of the science, according to the usually accepted classification.