It is a curious and dramatic fact that to a single man was due not only the origin of the art but the optical glass industry of the world. If the capacity for taking infinite pains be genius, then the term rightfully belongs to Pierre Louis Guinand. He was a Swiss artisan living in the Canton of Neuchatel near Chaux-de-Fonds, maker of bells for repeaters, and becoming interested in constructing telescopes imported some flint glass from England and found it bad.
He thereupon undertook the task of making better, and from 1784 kept steadily at his experiments, failure only spurring him on to redoubled efforts. All he could earn at his trade went into his furnaces, until gradually he won success, and his glass began to be heard of; for by 1799 he was producing flawless discs of flint as much as 6 inches in diameter.
What is more, to Guinand is probably due the production of the denser, more highly refractive flints, especially valuable for achromatic telescopes. The making of optical glass has always been an art rather than a science. It is one thing to know the exact composition of a glass and quite another to know in what order and proportion the ingredients went into the furnace, to what temperature they were carried, and for how long, and just how the fused mass must be treated to free the products from bubbles and striæ.
Even today, though much has been learned by scientific investigation in the past few years, it is far from easy to produce two consecutive meltings near enough in refractive power to be treated as optically identical, or to produce large discs optically homogeneous. What Guinand won by sheer experience was invaluable. He was persuaded in 1805 to move to Munich and eventually to join forces with Fraunhofer, an association which made both the German optical glass industry and the modern refractor.
He returned to Switzerland in 1814 and continued to produce perfect discs of larger and larger dimensions. One set of 12 inches worked up by Cauchoix in Paris furnished what was for some years the world’s largest refractor.
Guinaud died in 1824, but his son Henry, moving to Paris, brought his treasure of practical knowledge to the glass works there, where it has been handed down, in effect from father to son, gaining steadily by accretion, through successive firms to the present one of Parra-Mantois.
Bontemps, one of the early pupils of Henry Guinand, emigrated to England at the Revolution of 1848 and brought the art to the famous firm of Chance in Birmingham. Most of its early secrets have long been open, but the minute teachings of experience are a tremendously valuable asset even now.
Fig. 22.—Dr. Joseph von Fraunhofer, the Father of Astrophysics.