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DIAGRAM a. THE THREE WAYS OF
INCREASING HUMAN ENERGY.
Let, then, in diagram a, M
represent the mass of man. This mass is impelled in one direction by a
force f, which is resisted by another partly frictional and partly
negative force R, acting in a direction exactly opposite, and retarding
the movement of the mass. Such an antagonistic force is present in every
movement and must be taken into consideration. The difference between these
two forces is the effective force which imparts a velocity V to
the mass M in the direction of the arrow on the line representing
the force f. In accordance with the preceding, the human energy
will then be given by the product ½ MV2 = ½
MV x V, in which M is the total mass of man in the
ordinary interpretation of the term "mass," and V is a certain hypothetical
velocity, which, in the present state of science, we are unable exactly
to define and determine. To increase the human energy is, therefore, equivalent
to increasing this product, and there are, as will readily be seen, only
three ways possible to attain this result, which are illustrated in the
above diagram. The first way shown in the top figure, is to increase the
mass (as indicated by the dotted circle), leaving the two opposing forces
the same. The second way is to reduce the retarding force R to a
smaller value r, leaving the mass and the impelling force the same,
as diagrammatically shown in the middle figure. The third way, which is
illustrated in the last figure, is to increase the impelling force f
to a higher value F, while the mass and the retarding force R
remain unaltered. Evidently fixed limits exist as regards increase of mass
and reduction of retarding force, but the impelling force can be increased
indefinitely. Each of these three possible solutions presents a different
aspect of the main problem of increasing human energy, which is thus divided
into three distinct problems, to be successively considered.
THE FIRST PROBLEM: HOW TO INCREASE
THE HUMAN MASS-THE BURNING OF ATMOSPHERIC NITROGEN.
Viewed generally, there are obviously
two ways of increasing the mass of mankind: first, by aiding and maintaining
those forces and conditions which tend to increase it; and, second, by
opposing and reducing those which tend to diminish it. The mass will be
increased by careful attention to health, by substantial food, by moderation,
by regularity of habits, by promotion of marriage, by conscientious attention
to children, and, generally stated, by the observance of all the many precepts
and laws of religion and hygiene. But in adding new mass to the old, three
cases again present themselves. Either the mass added is of the same velocity
as the old, or it is of a smaller or of a higher velocity. To gain an idea
of the relative importance of these cases, imagine a train composed of,
say, one hundred locomotives running on a track, and suppose that, to increase
the energy of the moving mass, four more locomotives are added to the train.
If these four move at the same velocity at which the train is going, the
total energy will be increased four per cent.; if they are moving at only
one half of that velocity, the increase will amount to only one per cent.;
if they are moving at twice that velocity, the increase of energy will
be sixteen per cent. This simple illustration shows that it is of greatest
importance to add mass of a higher velocity. Stated more to the point,
if, for example, the children be of the same degree of enlightenment as
the parents,-that is, mass of the "same velocity,"-the energy will simply
increase proportionately to the number added. If they are less intelligent
or advanced, or mass of "smaller velocity," there will be a very slight
gain in the energy; but if they are further advanced, or mass of "higher
velocity," then the new generation will add very considerably to the sum
total of human energy. any addition of mass of "smaller velocity," beyond
that indispensable amount required by the law expressed in the proverb,
"Mens sana in corpore sano," should be strenuously opposed. For instance,
the mere development of muscle, as aimed at in some of our colleges, I
consider equivalent to adding mass of "smaller velocity," and I would not
commend it, although my views were different when I was a student myself.
Moderate exercise, insuring the right balance between mind and body, and
the highest efficiency of performance, is, of course, a prime requirement.
The above example shows that the most important result to be attained is
the education, or the increase of the "velocity," of the mass newly added.
Conversely, it scarcely need be stated
that everything that is against the teachings of religion and the laws
of hygiene is tending to decrease the mass. Whisky, wine, tea coffee, tobacco,
and other such stimulants are responsible for the shortening of the lives
of many, and ought to be used with moderation. But I do not think that
rigorous measures of suppression of habits followed through many generations
are commendable. It is wiser to preach moderation than abstinence. We have
become accustomed to these stimulants, and if such reforms are to be effected,
they must be slow and gradual. Those who are devoting their energies to
such ends could make themselves far more useful by turning their efforts
in other directions, as, for instance, toward providing pure water.
For every person who perishes from
the effects of a stimulant, at least a thousand die from the consequences
of drinking impure water. This precious fluid, which daily infuses new
life into us, is likewise the chief vehicle through which disease and death
enter our bodies. The germs of destruction it conveys are enemies all the
more terrible as they perform their fatal work unperceived. They seal our
doom while we live and enjoy. The majority of people are so ignorant or
careless in drinking water, and the consequences of this are so disastrous,
that a philanthropist can scarcely use his efforts better than by endeavoring
to enlighten those who are thus injuring themselves. By systematic purification
and sterilization of the drinking water the human mass would be very considerably
increased. It should be made a rigid rule-which might be enforced by law-to
boil or to sterilize otherwise the drinking water in every household and
public place. The mere filtering does not afford sufficient security against
infection. All ice for internal uses should be artificially prepared from
water thoroughly sterilized. The importance of eliminating germs of disease
from the city water is generally recognized, but little is being done to
improve the existing conditions, as no satisfactory method of sterilizing
great quantities of water has yet been brought forward. By improved electrical
appliances we are now enabled to produce ozone cheaply and in large amounts,
and this ideal disinfectant seems to offer a happy solution of the important
question.
Gambling, business rush, and excitement,
particularly on the exchanges, are causes of much mass reduction, all the
more so because the individuals concerned represent units of higher value.
Incapacity of observing the first symptoms of an illness, and careless
neglect of the same, are important factors of mortality. In noting carefully
every new sign of approaching danger, and making conscientiously every
possible effort to avert it, we are not only following wise laws of hygiene
in the interest of our well-being and the success of our labors, but we
are also complying with a higher moral duty. Everyone should consider his
body as a priceless gift from one whom he loves above all, as a marvelous
work of art, of indescribable beauty and mastery beyond human conception,
and so delicate and frail that a word, a breath, a look, nay, a thought,
may injure it. Uncleanliness, which breeds disease and death, is not only
a self destructive but highly immoral habit. In keeping our bodies free
from infection, healthful, and pure, we are expressing our reverence for
the high principle with which they are endowed. He who follows the precepts
of hygiene in this spirit is proving himself, so far, truly religious.
Laxity of morals is a terrible evil, which poisons both mind and body,
and which is responsible for a great reduction of the human mass in some
countries. Many of the present customs and tendencies are productive of
similar hurtful results. For example, the society life, modern education
and pursuits of women, tending to draw them away from their household duties
and make men out of them, must needs detract from the elevating ideal they
represent, diminish the artistic creative power, and cause sterility and
a general weakening of the race. A thousand other evils might be mentioned,
but all put together, in their bearing upon the problem under discussion,
they could not equal a single one, the want of food, brought on by poverty,
destitution, and famine. Millions of individuals die yearly for want of
food, thus keeping down the mass. Even in our enlightened communities,
and not withstanding the many charitable efforts, this is still, in all
probability, the chief evil. I do not mean here absolute want of food,
but want of healthful nutriment.
How to provide good and plentiful food
is, therefore, a most important question of the day. On the general principles
the raising of cattle as a means of providing food is objectionable, because,
in the sense interpreted above, it must undoubtedly tend to the addition
of mass of a "smaller velocity." It is certainly preferable to raise vegetables,
and I think, therefore, that vegetarianism is a commendable departure from
the established barbarous habit. That we can subsist on plant food and
perform our work even to advantage is not a theory, but a well-demonstrated
fact. Many races living almost exclusively on vegetables are of superior
physique and strength. There is no doubt that some plant food, such as
oatmeal, is more economical than meat, and superior to it in regard to
both mechanical and mental performance. Such food, moreover, taxes our
digestive organs decidedly less, and, in making us more contented and sociable,
produces an amount of good difficult to estimate. In view of these facts
every effort should be made to stop the wanton and cruel slaughter of animals,
which must be destructive to our morals. To free ourselves from animal
instincts and appetites, which keep us down, we should begin at the very
root from which we spring: we should effect a radical reform in the character
of the food.
There seems to be no philosophical
necessity for food. We can conceive of organized beings living without
nourishment, and deriving all the energy they need for the performance
of their life functions from the ambient medium. In a crystal we have the
clear evidence of the existence of a formative life-principle, and though
we cannot understand the life of a crystal, it is none the less a living
being. There may be, besides crystals, other such individualized, material
systems of beings, perhaps of gaseous constitution, or composed of substance
still more tenuous. In view of this possibility,-nay, probability, we cannot
apodictically deny the existence of organized beings on a planet merely
because the conditions on the same are unsuitable for the existence of
life as we conceive it. We cannot even, with positive assurance, assert
that some of them might not be present here, in this our world, in the
very midst of us, for their constitution and life-manifestation may be
such that we are unable to perceive them.
The production of artificial food as
a means for causing an increase of the human mass naturally suggests itself,
but a direct attempt of this kind to provide nourishment does not appear
to me rational, at least not for the present. Whether we could thrive on
such food is very doubtful. We are the result of ages of continuous adaptation,
and we cannot radically change without unforeseen and, in all probability,
disastrous consequences. So uncertain an experiment should not be tried.
By far the best way, it seems to me, to meet the ravages of the evil, would
be to find ways of increasing the productivity of the soil. With this object
the preservation of forests is of an importance which cannot be overestimated,
and in this connection, also, the utilization of water-power for purposes
of electrical transmission, dispensing in many ways with the necessity
of burning wood, and tending thereby to forest preservation, is to be strongly
advocated. But there are limits in the improvement to be effected in this
and similar ways.
To increase materially the productivity
of the soil, it must be more effectively fertilized by artificial means.
The question of food-production resolves itself, then, into the question
how best to fertilize the soil. What it is that made the soil is still
a mystery. To explain its origin is probably equivalent to explaining the
origin of life itself. The rocks, disintegrated by moisture and heat and
wind and weather, were in themselves not capable of maintaining life. Some
unexplained condition arose, and some new principle came into effect, and
the first layer capable of sustaining low organisms, like mosses was formed.
These, by their life and death, added more of the life sustaining quality
to the soil, and higher organisms could then subsist, and so on and on,
until at last highly developed plant and animal life could flourish. But
though the theories are, even now, not in agreement as to how fertilization
is effected, it is a fact, only too well ascertained, that the soil cannot
indefinitely sustain life, and some way must be found to supply it with
the substances which have been abstracted from it by the plants. The chief
and most valuable among these substances are compounds of nitrogen, and
the cheap production of these is, therefore, the key for the solution of
the all-important food problem. Our atmosphere contains an inexhaustible
amount of nitrogen, and could we but oxidize it and produce these compounds,
an incalculable benefit for mankind would follow.
Long ago this idea took a powerful
hold on the imagination of scientific men, but an efficient means for accomplishing
this result could not be devised. The problem was rendered extremely difficult
by the extraordinary inertness of the nitrogen, which refuses to combine
even with oxygen. But here electricity comes to our aid: the dormant affinities
of the element are awakened by an electric current of the proper quality.
As a lump of coal which has been in contact with oxygen for centuries without
burning will combine with it when once ignited, so nitrogen, excited by
electricity, will burn. I did not succeed, however, in producing electrical
discharges exciting very effectively the atmospheric nitrogen until a comparatively
recent date, although I showed, in May, 1891, in a scientific lecture,
a novel form of discharge or electrical flame named "St. Elmo's hotfire,"
which, besides being capable of generating ozone in abundance, also possessed,
as I pointed out on that occasion, distinctly the quality of exciting chemical
affinities. This discharge or flame was then only three or four inches
long, its chemical action was likewise very feeble, and consequently the
process of oxidation of nitrogen was wasteful. How to intensify this action
was the question. Evidently electric currents of a peculiar kind had to
be produced in order to render the process of nitrogen combustion more
efficient.
The first advance was made in ascertaining
that the chemical activity of the discharge was very considerably increased
by using currents of extremely high frequency or rate of vibration. This
was an important improvement, but practical considerations soon set a definite
limit to the progress in this direction. Next, the effects of the electrical
pressure of the current impulses, of their wave-form and other characteristic
features, were investigated. Then the influence of the atmospheric pressure
and temperature and of the presence of water and other bodies was studied,
and thus the best conditions for causing the most intense chemical action
of the discharge and securing the highest efficiency of the process were
gradually ascertained. Naturally, the improvements were not quick in coming;
still, little by little, I advanced. The flame grew larger and larger,
and its oxidizing action grew more intense. From an insignificant brush-discharge
a few inches long it developed into a marvelous electrical phenomenon,
a roaring blaze, devouring the nitrogen of the atmosphere and measuring
sixty or seventy feet across. Thus slowly, almost imperceptibly, possibility
became accomplishment. All is not yet done, by any means, but to what a
degree my efforts have been rewarded an idea may be gained from an inspection
of Fig. 1 (p. 176), which, with its title, is self explanatory. The flame-like
discharge visible is produced by the intanse electrical oscillations which
pass through the coil shown, and violently agitate the electrified molecules
of the air. By this means a strong affinity is created between the two
normally indifferent constituents of the atmosphere, and they combine readily,
even if no further provision is made for intensifying the chemical action
of the discharge. In the manufacture of nitrogen compounds by this method,
of course, every possible means bearing upon the intensity of this action
and the efficiency of the process will be taken advantage of, and, besides,
special arrangements will be provided for the fixation of the compounds
formed, as they are generally unstable, the nitrogen becoming again inert
after a little lapse of time. Steam is a simple and effective means for
fixing permanently the compounds. The result illustrated makes it practicable
to oxidize the atmospheric nitrogen in unlimited quantities, merely by
the use of cheap mechanical power and simple electrical apparatus. In this
manner many compounds of nitrogen may be manufactured all over the world,
at a small cost, and in any desired amount, and by means of these compounds
the soil can be fertilized and its productiveness indefinitely increased.
An abundance of cheap and healthful food, not artificial, but such as we
are accustomed to, may thus be obtained. This new and inexhaustible source
of food-supply will be of incalculable benefit to mankind, for it will
enormously contribute to the increase of the human mass, and thus add immensely
to human energy. Soon, I hope, the world will see the beginning of an industry
which, in time to come, will, I believe, be in importance next to that
if iron.
THE SECOND PROBLEM: HOW TO REDUCE THE
FORCE RETARDING THE HUMAN MASS-THE ART OF TELAUTOMATICS.
As before stated, the force which retards
the onward movement of man is partly frictional and partly negative. To
illustrate this distinction I may name, for example, ignorance, stupidity,
and imbecility as some of the purely frictional forces, or resistances
devoid of any directive tendency. On the other hand, visionariness, insanity,
self-destructive tendency, religious fanaticism, and the like, are all
forces of a negative character, acting in definite directions. To reduce
or entirely overcome these dissimilar retarding forces, radically different
methods must be employed. One knows, for instance, what a fanatic may do,
and one can take preventive measures, can enlighten, convince, and, possibly
direct him, turn his vice into virtue; but one does not know, and never
can know, what a brute or an imbecile may do, and one must deal with him
as with a mass, inert, without mind, let loose by the mad elements. A negative
force always implies some quality, not infrequently a high one, though
badly directed, which it is possible to turn to good advantage; but a directionless,
frictional force involves unavoidable loss. Evidently, then, the first
and general answer to the above question is: turn all negative force in
the right direction and reduce all frictional force.
There can be no doubt that, of all
the frictional resistances, the one that most retards human movement is
ignorance. Not without reason said that man of wisdom, Buddha: "Ignorance
is the greatest evil in the world." The friction which results from ignorance,
and which is greatly increased owing to the numerous languages and nationalities,
can be reduced only by the spread of knowledge and the unification of the
heterogeneous elements of humanity. No effort could be better spent. But
however ignorance may have retarded the onward movement of man in times
past, it is certain that, nowadays, negative forces have become of greater
importance. Among these there is one of far greater moment than any other.
It is called organized warfare. When we consider the millions of individuals,
often the ablest in mind and body, the flower of humanity, who are compelled
to a life of inactivity and unproductiveness, the immense sums of money
daily required for the maintenance of armies and war apparatus, representing
ever so much of human energy, all the effort uselessly spent in the production
of arms and implements of destruction, the loss of life and the fostering
of a barbarous spirit, we are appalled at the inestimable loss to mankind
which the existence of these deplorable conditions must involve. What can
we do to combat best this great evil?
Law and order absolutely require the
maintenance of organized force. No community can exist and prosper without
rigid discipline. Every country must be able to defend itself, should the
necessity arise. The conditions of to-day are not the result of yesterday,
and a radical change cannot be effected to-morrow. If the nations would
at once disarm, it is more than likely that a state of things worse than
war itself would follow. Universal peace is a beautiful dream, but not
at once realizable. We have seen recently that even the nobel effort of
the man invested with the greatest worldly power has been virtually without
effect. And no wonder, for the establishment of universal peace is, for
the time being, a physical impossibility. War is a negative force, and
cannot be turned in a positive direction without passing through, the intermediate
phases. It is a problem of making a wheel, rotating one way, turn in the
opposite direction without slowing it down, stopping it, and speeding it
up again the other way.
It has been argued that the perfection
of guns of great destructive power will stop warfare. So I myself thought
for a long time, but now I believe this to be a profound mistake. Such
developments will greatly modify, but not arrest it. On the contrary, I
think that every new arm that is invented, every new departure that is
made in this direction, merely invites new talent and skill, engages new
effort, offers new incentive, and so only gives a fresh impetus to further
development. Think of the discovery of gun-powder. Can we conceive of any
more radical departure than was effected by this innovation? Let us imagine
ourselves living in that period: would we not have thought then that warfare
was at an end, when the armor of the knight became an object of ridicule,
when bodily strength and skill, meaning so much before, became of comparatively
little value? Yet gunpowder did not stop warfare: quite the opposite-it
acted as a most powerful incentive. Nor do I believe that warfare can ever
be arrested by any scientific or ideal development, so long as similar
conditions to those prevailing now exist, because war has itself become
a science, and because war involves some of the most sacred sentiments
of which man is capable. In fact, it is doubtful whether men who would
not be ready to fight for a high principle would be good for anything at
all. It is not the mind which makes man, nor is it the body; it is mind
and body. Our virtues and our failings are inseparable, like force and
matter. When they separate, man is no more.
Another argument, which carries considerable
force, is frequently made, namely, that war must soon become impossible
be cause the means of defense are outstripping the means of attack. This
is only in accordance with a fundamental law which may be expressed by
the statement that it is easier to destroy than to build. This law defines
human capacities and human conditions. Were these such that it would be
easier build than to destroy, man would go on unresisted, creating and
accumulating without limit. Such conditions are not of this earth. A being
which could do this would not be a man: it might be a god. Defense will
always have the advantage over attack, but this alone, it seems to me,
can never stop war. By the use of new principles of defense we can render
harbors impregnable against attack, but we cannot by such means prevent
two warships meeting in battle on the high sea. And then, if we follow
this idea to its ultimate development, we are led to the conclusion that
it would be better for mankind if attack and defense were just oppositely
related; for if every country, even the smallest, could surround itself
with a wall absolutely impenetrable, and could defy the rest of the world,
a state of things would surely be brought on which would be extremely unfavorable
to human progress. It is by abolishing all the barriers which separate
nations and countries that civilization is best furthered.
Again, it is contended by some that
the advent of the flying-machine must bring on universal peace. This, too,
I believe to be an entirely erroneous view. The flying-machine is certainly
coming, and very soon, but the conditions will remain the same as before.
In fact, I see no reason why a ruling power, like Great Britain, might
not govern the air as well as the sea. Without wishing to put myself on
record as a prophet, I do not hesitate to say that the next years will
see the establishment of an "air-power," and its center may be not far
from New York. But, for all that, men will fight on merrily.
The ideal development of the war principle
would ultimately lead to the transformation of the whole energy of war
into purely potential, explosive energy, like that of an electrical condenser.
In this form the war-energy could be maintained without effort; it would
need to be much smaller in amount, while incomparably more effective.
As regards the security of a country
against foreign invasion, it is interesting to note that it depends only
on the relative, and not the absolute, number of the individuals or magnitude
of the forces, and that, if every country should reduce the war-force in
the same ratio, the security would remain unaltered. An international agreement
with the object of reducing to a minimum the war-force which, in view of
the present still imperfect education of the masses, is absolutely indispensable,
would, therefore, seem to be the first rational step to take toward diminishing
the force retarding human movement.
Fortunately, the existing conditions
cannot continue indefinitely, for a new element is beginning to assert
itself. A change for the better is eminent, and I shall now endeavor to
show what, according to my ideas, will be the first advance toward the
establishment of peaceful relations between nations, and by what means
it will eventually be accomplished.
Let us go back to the early beginning,
when the law of the stronger was the only law. The light of reason was
not yet kindled, and the weak was entirely at the mercy of the strong.
The weak individual then began to learn how to defend himself. He made
use of a club, stone, spear, sling, or bow and arrow, and in the course
of time, instead of physical strength, intelligence became the chief deciding
factor in the battle. The wild character was gradually softened by the
awakening of noble sentiments, and so, imperceptibly, after ages of continued
progress, we have come from the brutal fight of the unreasoning animal
to what we call the "civilized warfare" of to-day, in which the combatants
shake hands, talk in a friendly way, and smoke cigars in the entr'actes,
ready to engage again in deadly conflict at a signal. Let pessimists say
what they like, here is an absolute evidence of great and gratifying advance.
But now, what is the next phase in
this evolution? Not peace as yet, by any means. The next change which should
naturally follow from modern developments should be the continuous diminution
of the number of individuals engaged in battle. The apparatus will be one
of specifically great power, but only a few individuals will be required
to operate it. This evolution will bring more and more into prominence
a machine or mechanism with the fewest individuals as an element of warfare,
and the absolutely unavoidable consequence of this will be the abandonment
of large, clumsy, slowly moving, and unmanageable units. Greatest possible
speed and maximum rate of energy-delivery by the war apparatus will be
the main object. The loss of life will become smaller and smaller, and
finally, the number of the individuals continuously diminishing, merely
machines will meet in a contest without blood-shed, the nations being simply
interested, ambitious spectators. When this happy condition is realized,
peace will be assured. But, no matter to what degree of perfection rapid-fire
guns, high-power cannon, explosive projectiles, torpedo-boats, or other
implements of war may be brought, no matter how destructive they may be
made, that condition can never be reached through any such development.
All such implements require men for their operation; men are indispensable
parts of the machinery. Their object is to kill and to destroy. Their power
resides in their capacity for doing evil. So long as men meet in battle,
there will be bloodshed. Bloodshed will ever keep up barbarous passion.
To break this fierce spirit, a radical departure must be made, an entirely
new principle must be introduced, something that never existed before in
warfare-a principle which will forcibly, unavoidably, turn the battle into
a mere spectacle, a play, a contest without loss of blood. To bring on
this result men must be dispensed with: machine must fight machine. But
how accomplish that which seems impossible? The answer is simple enough:
produce a machine capable of acting as though it were part of a human being-no
mere mechanical contrivance, comprising levers, screws, wheels, clutches,
and nothing more, but a machine embodying a higher principle, which will
enable it to per form its duties as though it had intelligence, experience,
judgment, a mind! This conclusion is the result of my thoughts and observations
which have extended through virtually my whole life, and I shall now briefly
describe how I came to accomplish that which at first seemed an unrealizable
dream.
A long time ago, when I was a boy,
I was afflicted with a singular trouble, which seems to have been due to
an extraordinary excitability of the retina. It was the appearance of images
which, by their persistence, marred the vision of real objects and interfered
with thought. When a word was said to me, the image of the object which
it designated would appear vividly before my eyes, and many times it was
impossible for me to tell whether the object I saw was real or not. This
caused me great discomfort and anxiety, and I tried hard to free myself
of the spell. But for a long time I tried in vain, and it was not, as I
clearly recollect, until I was about twelve years old that I succeeded
for the first time, by an effort of the will, in banishing an image which
presented itself. My happiness will never be as complete as it was then,
but, unfortunately (as I thought at that time), the old trouble returned,
and with it my anxiety. Here it was that the observations to which I refer
began. I noted, namely, that whenever the image of an object appeared before
my eyes I had seen something that reminded me of it. In the first instances
I thought this to be purely accidental, but soon I convinced myself that
it was not so. A visual impression, consciously or unconsciously received,
invariably preceded the appearance of the image. Gradually the desire arose
in me to find out, every time, what caused the images to appear, and the
satisfaction of this desire soon became a necessity. The next observation
I made was that, just as these images followed as a result of something
I had seen, so also the thoughts which I conceived were suggested in like
manner. Again, I experienced the same desire to locate the image which
caused the thought, and this search for the original visual impression
soon grew to be a second nature. Mt mind became automatic, as it were,
and in the course of years of continued, almost unconscious performance,
I acquired the ability of locating every time and, as a rule, instantly
the visual impression which started the thought. Nor is this all. It was
not long before I was aware that also all my movements were prompted in
the same way, and so, searching, observing, and verifying continuously,
year by year, I have, by every thought and every act of mine, demonstrated,
and do so daily, to my absolute satisfaction, that I am an automaton endowed
with power of movement, which merely responds to external stimuli beating
upon my sense organs, and thinks and acts and moves accordingly. I remember
only one or two cases in all my life in which I was unable to locate the
first impression which prompted a movement or a thought, or even a dream.
[See Tesla-Man Out of Time photograph
section.]
FIG. 2. THE FIRST PRACTICAL TELAUTOMATON.
A machine having all the bodily or
translatory movements and the operations of the interior mechanism controlled
from a distance without wires. The crewless boat shown in the photograph
contains its own motive power, propelling and steering machinery, and numerous
other accessories, all of which are controlled by transmitting from a distance,
without wires, electrical oscillations to a circuit carried by the boat
and adjusted to respond only to these oscillations.
With these experiences it was only
natural that, long ago, I conceived the idea of constructing an automaton
which would mechanically represent me, and which would respond, as I do
myself, but, of course, in a much more primitive manner, to external influences.
Such an automaton evidently had to have motive power, organs for locomotion,
directive organs, and one or more sensitive organs so adapted as to be
excited by external stimuli. This machine would, I reasoned, perform its
movements in the manner of a living being, for it would have all the chief
mechanical characteristics or elements of the same. There was still the
capacity for growth, propagation, and, above all, the mind which would
be wanting to make the model complete. But growth was not necessary in
this case, since a machine could be manufactured full grown, so to speak.
As to the capacity for propagation, it could likewise be left out of consideration,
for in the mechanical model it merely signified a process of manufacture.
Whether the automation be of flesh and bone, or of wood and steel, it mattered
little, provided it could perform all the duties required of it like an
intelligent being. To do so, it had to have an element corresponding to
the mind, which would effect the control of all its movements and operations,
and cause it to act, in any unforeseen case that might present itself,
with knowledge, reason, judgment, and experience. But this element I could
easily embody in it by conveying to it my own intelligence, my own understanding.
So this invention was evolved, and so a new art came into existence, for
which the name "telautomatics" has been suggested, which means the art
of controlling the movements and operations of distant automatons. This
principle evidently was applicable to any kind of machine that moves on
land or in the water or in the air. In applying it practically for the
first time, I selected a boat (see Fig. 2). A storage battery placed within
it furnished the motive power. The propeller, driven by a motor, represented
the locomotive organs. The rudder, controlled by another motor likewise
driven by the battery, took the place of the directive organs. As to the
sensitive organ, obviously the first thought was to utilize a device responsive
to rays of light, like a selenium cell, to represent the human eye. But
upon closer inquiry I found that, owing to experimental and other difficulties,
no thoroughly satisfactory control of the automaton could be effected by
light, radiant heat, hertzian radiations, or by rays in general, that is,
disturbances which pass in straight lines through space. One of the reasons
was that any obstacle coming between the operator and the distant automaton
would place it beyond his control. Another reason was that the sensitive
device representing the eye would have to be in a definite position with
respect to the distant controlling apparatus, and this necessity would
impose great limitations in the control. Still another and very important
reason was that, in using rays, it would be difficult, if not impossible,
to give to the automaton individual features or characteristics distinguishing
it from other machines of this kind. Evidently the automaton should respond
only to an individual call, as a person responds to a name. Such considerations
led me to conclude that the sensitive device of the machine should correspond
to the ear rather than the eye of a human being, for in this case its actions
could be controlled irrespective of intervening obstacles, regardless of
its position relative to the distant controlling apparatus, and, last,
but not least, it would remain deaf and unresponsive, like a faithful servant,
to all calls but that of its master. These requirements made it imperative
to use, in the control of the automaton, instead of light or other rays,
waves or disturbances which propagate in all directions through space,
like sound, or which follow a path of least resistance, however curved.
I attained the result aimed at by means of an electric circuit placed within
the boat, and adjusted, or "tuned," exactly to electrical vibrations of
the proper kind transmitted to it from a distant "electrical oscillator."
This circuit, in responding, however feebly, to the transmitted vibrations,
affected magnets and other contrivances, through the medium of which were
controlled the movements of the propeller and rudder, and also the operations
of numerous other appliances.
By the simple means described the knowledge,
experience, judgment-the mind, so to speak-of the distant operator were
embodied in that machine, which was thus enabled to move and to perform
all its operations with reason and intelligence. It behaved just like a
blindfolded person obeying directions received through the ear.
The automatons so far constructed had
"borrowed minds," so to speak, as each merely formed part of the distant
operator who conveyed to it his intelligent orders; but this art is only
in the beginning. I purpose to show that, however impossible it may now
seem, an automaton may be contrived which will have its "own mind," and
by this I mean that it will be able, independent of any operator, left
entirely to itself, to perform, in response to external influences affecting
its sensitive organs, a great variety of acts and operations as if it had
intelligence. It will be able to follow a course laid out or to obey orders
given far in advance; it will be capable of distinguishing between what
it ought and what it ought not to do, and of making experiences or, otherwise
stated, of recording impressions which will definitely affect its subsequent
actions. In fact, I have already conceived such a plan.
Although I evolved this invention many
years ago and explained it to my visitors very frequently in my laboratory
demonstrations, it was not until much later, long after I had perfected
it, that it became known, when, naturally enough, it gave rise to much
discussion and to sensational reports. But the true significance of this
new art was not grasped by the majority, nor was the great force of the
underlying principle recognized. As nearly as I could judge from the numerous
comments which appeared, the results I had obtained were considered as
entirely impossible. Even the few who were disposed to admit the practicability
of the invention saw in it merely an automobile torpedo, which was to be
used for the purpose of blowing up battleships, with doubtful success.
The general impression was that I contemplated simply the steering of such
a vessel by means of Hertzian or other rays. There are torpedoes steered
electrically by wires, and there are means of communicating without wires,
and the above was, of course an obvious inference. Had I accomplished nothing
more than this, I should have made a small advance indeed. But the art
I have evolved does not contemplate merely the change of direction of a
moving vessel; it affords means of absolutely controlling, in every respect,
all the innumerable translatory movements, as well as the operations of
all the internal organs, no matter how many, of an individualized automaton.
Criticisms to the effect that the control of the automaton could be interfered
with were made by people who do not even dream of the wonderful results
which can be accomplished by use of electrical vibrations. The world moves
slowly, and new truths are difficult to see. Certainly, by the use of this
principle, an arm for attack as well as defense may be provided, of a destructiveness
all the greater as the principle is applicable to submarine and aerial
vessels. There is virtually no restriction as to the amount of explosive
it can carry, or as to the distance at which it can strike, and failure
is almost impossible. But the force of this new principle does not wholly
reside in its destructiveness. Its advent introduces into warfare an element
which never existed before-a fighting-machine without men as a means of
attack and defense. The continuous development in this direction must ultimately
make war a mere contest of machines without men and without loss of life-a
condition which would have been impossible without this new departure,
and which, in my opinion, must be reached as preliminary to permanent peace.
The future will either bear out or disprove these views. My ideas on this
subject have been put forth with deep conviction, but in a humble spirit.
The establishment of permanent peaceful
relations between nations would most effectively reduce the force retarding
the human mass, and would be the best solution of this great human problem.
But will the dream of universal peace ever be realized? Let us hope that
it will. When all darkness shall be dissipated by the light of science,
when all nations shall be merged into one, and patriotism shall be identical
with religion, when there shall be one language, one country, one end,
then the dream will have become reality.
THE THIRD PROBLEM: HOW TO INCREASE
THE FORCE ACCELERATING THE HUMAN MASS-THE HARNESSING OF THE SUN'S ENERGY.
Of the three possible solutions of
the main problem of increasing human energy, this is by far the most important
to consider, not only because of its intrinsic significance, but also because
of its intimate bearing on all the many elements and conditions which determine
the movement of humanity. In order to proceed systematically, it would
be necessary for me to dwell on all those considerations which have guided
me from the outset in my efforts to arrive at a solution, and which have
led me, step by step, to the results I shall now describe. As a preliminary
study of the problem an analytical investigation, such as I have made,
of the chief forces which determine the onward movement, would be of advantage,
particularly in conveying an idea of that hypothetical "velocity" which,
as explained in the beginning, is a measure of human energy; but to deal
with this specifically here, as I would desire, would lead me far beyond
the scope of the present subject. Suffice it to state that the resultant
of all these forces is always in the direction of reason, which therefore,
determines, at any time, the direction of human movement. This is to say
that every effort which is scientifically applied, rational, useful, or
practical, must be in the direction in which the mass is moving. The practical,
rational man, the observer, the man of business, he who reasons, calculates,
or determines in advance, carefully applies his effort so that when coming
into effect it will be in the direction of the movement, making it thus
most efficient, and in this knowledge and ability lies the secret of his
success. Every new fact discovered, every new experience or new element
added to our knowledge and entering into the domain of reason, affects
the same and, therefore, changes the direction of movement, which, however,
must always take place along the resultant of all those efforts which,
at that time, we designate as reasonable, that is, self-preserving, useful,
profitable, or practical. These efforts concern our daily life, our necessities
and comforts, our work and business, and it is these which drive man onward.
But looking at all this busy world
about us, on all this complex mass as it daily throbs and moves, what is
it but an immense clock-work driven by a spring? In the morning, when we
rise, we cannot fail to note that all the objects about us are manufactured
by machinery: the water we use is lifted by steam-power; the trains bring
our breakfast from distant localities; the elevators in our dwelling and
our office building, the cars that carry us there, are all driven by power;
in all our daily errands, and in our very life-pursuit, we depend upon
it; all the objects we see tell us of it; and when we return to our machine-made
dwelling at night, lest we should forget it, all the material comforts
of our home, our cheering stove and lamp, remind us of how much we depend
on power. And when there is an accidental stoppage of the machinery, when
the city is snowbound, or the life sustaining movement otherwise temporarily
arrested, we are affrighted to realize how impossible it would be for us
to live the life we live without motive power. Motive power means work.
To increase the force accelerating human movement means, therefore, to
perform more work.
So we find that the three possible
solutions of the great problem of increasing human energy are answered
by the three words: food, peace, work. Many a year I have thought
and pondered, lost myself in speculations and theories, considering man
as a mass moved by a force, viewing his inexplicable movement in the light
of a mechanical one, and applying the simple principles of mechanics to
the analysis of the same until I arrived at these solutions, only to realize
that they were taught to me in my early childhood. These three words sound
the key-notes of the Christian religion. Their scientific meaning and purpose
now clear to me: food to increase the mass, peace to diminish the retarding
force, and work to increase the force accelerating human movement. These
are the only three solutions which are possible of that great problem,
and all of them have one object, one end, namely, to increase human energy.
When we recognize this, we cannot help wondering how profoundly wise and
scientific and how immensely practical the Christian religion is, and in
what a marked contrast it stands in this respect to other religions. It
is unmistakably the result of practical experiment and scientific observation
which have extended through the ages, while other religions seem to be
the outcome of merely abstract reasoning. Work, untiring effort, useful
and accumulative, with periods of rest and recuperation aiming at higher
efficiency, is its chief and ever-recurring command. Thus we are inspired
both by Christianity and Science to do our utmost toward increasing the
performance of mankind. This most important of human problems I shall now
specifically consider.
THE SOURCE OF HUMAN ENERGY-THE THREE
WAYS OF DRAWING ENERGY FROM THE SUN.
First let us ask: Whence comes all
the motive power? What is the spring that drives all? We see the ocean
rise and fall, the rivers flow, the wind, rain, hail, and snow beat on
our windows, the trains and steamers come and go; we here the rattling
noise of carriages, the voices from the street; we feel, smell, and taste;
and we think of all this. And all this movement, from the surging of the
mighty ocean to that subtle movement concerned in our thought, has but
one common cause. All this energy emanates from one single center, one
single source-the sun. The sun is the spring that drives all. The sun maintains
all human life and supplies all human energy. Another answer we have now
found to the above great question: To increase the force accelerating human
movement means to turn to the uses of man more of the sun's energy. We
honor and revere those great men of bygone times whose names are linked
with immortal achievements, who have proved themselves benefactors of humanity-the
religious reformer with his wise maxims of life, the philosopher with his
deep truths, the mathematician with his formulæ, the physicist with
his laws, the discover with his principles and secrets wrested from nature,
the artist with his forms of the beautiful; but who honors him, the greatest
of all,-who can tell the name of him,-who first turned to use the sun's
energy to save the effort of a weak fellow-creature? That was man's first
act of scientific philanthropy, and its consequences have been incalculable.
From the very beginning three ways
of drawing energy from the sun were open to man. The savage, when he warmed
his frozen limbs at a fire kindled in some way, availed himself of the
energy of the sun stored in the burning material. When he carried a bundle
of branches to his cave and burned them there, he made use of the sun's
stored energy transported from one to another locality. When he set sail
to his canoe, he utilized the energy of the sun applied to the atmosphere
or the ambient medium. There can be no doubt that the first is the oldest
way. A fire, found accidentally, taught the savage to appreciate its beneficial
heat. He then very likely conceived of the idea of carrying the glowing
members to his abode. Finally he learned to use the force of a swift current
of water or air. It is characteristic of modern development that progress
has been effected in the same order. The utilization of the energy stored
in wood or coal, or, generally speaking, fuel, led to the steam-engine.
Next a great stride in advance was made in energy-transportation by the
use of electricity, which permitted the transfer of energy from one locality
to another without transporting the material. But as to the utilization
of the energy of the ambient medium, no radical step forward has as yet
been made known.
The ultimate results of development
in these three directions are: first, the burning of coal by a cold process
in a battery; second, the efficient utilization of the energy of the ambient
medium; and, third the transmission without wires of electrical energy
to any distance. In whatever way these results may be arrived at, their
practical application will necessarily involve an extensive use of iron,
and this invaluable metal will undoubtedly be an essential element in the
further development along these three lines. If we succeed in burning coal
by a cold process and thus obtain electrical energy in an efficient and
inexpensive manner, we shall require in many practical uses of this energy
electric motors-that is, iron. If we are successful in deriving energy
from the ambient medium, we shall need, both in the obtainment and utilization
of the energy, machinery-again, iron. If we realize the transmission of
electrical energy without wires on an industrial scale, we shall be compelled
to use extensively electric generators-once more, iron. Whatever we may
do, iron will probably be the chief means of accomplishment in the near
future, possibly more so than in the past. How long its reign will last
is difficult to tell, for even now aluminium is looming up as a threatening
competitor. But for the time being, next to providing new resources of
energy, it is of the greatest importance to making improvements in the
manufacture and utilization of iron. Great advances are possible in these
latter directions, which, if brought about, would enormously increase the
useful performance of mankind.
GREAT POSSIBILITIES OFFERED BY IRON
FOR INCREASING HUMAN PERFORMANCE-ENORMOUS WASTE IN IRON MANUFACTURE.
Iron is by far the most important factor
in modern progress. It contributes more than any other industrial product
to the force accelerating human movement. So general is the use of this
metal, and so intimately is it connected with all that concerns our life,
that it has become as indispensable to us as the very air we breathe. Its
name is synonymous with usefulness. But, however great the influence of
iron may be on the present human development, it does not add to the force
urging man onward nearly as much as it might. First of all, its manufacture
as now carried on is connected with an appalling waste of fuel-that is,
waste of energy. Then, again, only a part of all the iron produced is applied
for useful purposes. A good part of it goes to create frictional resistances,
while still another large part is the means of developing negative forces
greatly retarding human movement. Thus the negative force of war is almost
wholly represented in iron. It is impossible to estimate with any degree
of accuracy the magnitude of this greatest of all retarding forces, but
it is certainly very considerable. If the present positive impelling force
due to all useful applications of iron be represented by ten, for instance,
I should not think it exaggeration to estimate the negative force of war,
with due consideration of all its retarding influences and results, at,
say, six. On the basis of this estimate the effective impelling force of
iron in the positive direction would be measured by the difference of these
two numbers, which is four. But if, through the establishment of universal
peace, the manufacture of war machinery should cease, and all struggle
for supremacy between nations should be turned into healthful, ever active
and productive commercial competition, then the positive impelling force
due to iron would be measured by the sum of those two, numbers, which is
sixteen-that is, this force would have four times its present value. This
example is, of course, merely intended to give an idea of the immense increase
in the useful performance of mankind which would result from a radical
reform of the iron industries supplying the implements of warfare.
A similar inestimable advantage in
the saving of energy available to man would be secured by obviating the
great waste of coal which is inseparably connected with the present methods
of manufacturing iron. In some countries, such as Great Britain, the hurtful
effects of this squandering of fuel are beginning to be felt. The price
of coal is constantly rising, and the poor are made to suffer more and
more. Though we are still far from the dreaded "exhaustion of the coal-fields,"
philanthropy commands us to invent novel methods of manufacturing iron,
which will not involve such barbarous waste of this valuable material from
which we derive at present most of our energy. It is our duty to coming
generations to leave this store of energy intact for them, or at least
not to touch it until we shall have perfected processes for burning coal
more efficiently. Those who are coming after us will need fuel more than
we do. We should be able to manufacture the iron we require by using the
sun's energy, without wasting any coal at all. As an effort to this end
the idea of smelting iron ores by electric currents obtained from the energy
of falling water has naturally suggested itself to many. I have myself
spent much time in endeavoring to evolve such a practical process, which
would enable iron to be manufactured at small cost. After a prolonged investigation
of the subject, finding that it was unprofitable to use the currents generated
directly for smelting the ore, I devised a method which is far more economical.
ECONOMICAL PRODUCTION OF IRON BY A
NEW PROCESS.
The industrial project, as I worked
it out six years ago, contemplated the employment of the electric currents
derived from the energy of a waterfall, not directly for smelting the ore,
but for decomposing water for a preliminary step. To lessen the cost of
the plant, I proposed to generate the currents in exceptionally cheap and
simple dynamos, which I designed for this sole purpose. The hydrogen liberated
in the electrolytic decomposition was to be burned or recombined with oxygen,
not with that from which it was separated, but with that of the atmosphere.
Thus very nearly the total electrical energy used up in the decomposition
of the water would be recovered in the form of heat resulting from the
recombination of the hydrogen. This heat was to be applied to the smelting
of ore. The oxygen gained as a by-product of the decomposition of the water
I intended to use for certain other industrial purposes, which would probably
yield good financial returns, inasmuch as this is the cheapest way of obtaining
this gas in large quantities. In any event, it could be employed to burn
all kinds of refuse, cheap hydrocarbon, or coal of the most inferior quality
which could not be burned in air or be otherwise utilized to advantage,
and thus again a considerable amount of heat would be made available for
the smelting of the ore. To increase the economy of the process I contemplated,
furthermore, using an arrangement such that the hot metal and the products
of combustion, coming out of the furnace, would give up their heat upon
the cold ore going into the furnace, so that comparatively little of the
heat energy would be lost in the smelting. I calculated that probably forty
thousand pounds of iron could be produced per horse-power per annum by
this method. Liberal allowances were made for those losses which are unavoidable,
the above quantity being about half of that theoretically obtainable. Relying
on this estimate and on practical data with reference to a certain kind
of sand ore existing in abundance in the region of the Great Lakes, including
cost of transportation and labor, I found that in some localities iron
could be manufactured in this manner cheaper than by any of the adopted
methods. This result would be obtained all the more surely if the oxygen
obtained from the water, instead of being used for smelting of ore, as
assumed, should be more profitably employed. Any new demand for this gas
would secure a higher revenue from the plant, thus cheapening the iron.
This project was advanced merely in the interest of industry. Some day,
I hope, a beautiful industrial butterfly will come out of the dusty and
shriveled chrysalis.
The production of iron from sand ores
by a process of magnetic separation is highly commendable in principle,
since it involves no waste of coal; but the usefulness of this method is
largely reduced by the necessity of melting the iron afterward. As to the
crushing of iron ore, I would consider it rational only if done by water-power,
or by energy otherwise obtained without consumption of fuel. An electrolytic
cold process, which would make it possible to extract iron cheaply, and
also to mold it into the required forms without any fuel consumption, would,
in my opinion, be a very great advance in iron manufacture. In common with
some other metals, iron has so far resisted electrolytic treatment, but
there can be no doubt that such a cold process will ultimately replace
in metallurgy the present crude method of casting, and thus obviating the
enormous waste of fuel necessitated by the repeated heating of metal in
the foundries.
Up to a few decades ago the usefulness
of iron was based almost wholly on its remarkable mechanical properties,
but since the advent of the commercial dynamo and electric motor its value
to mankind has been greatly increased by its unique magnetic qualities.
As regards the latter, iron has been greatly improved of late. The signal
progress began about thirteen years ago, when I discovered that in using
soft Bessemer steel instead of wrought iron, as then customary, in an alternating
motor, the performance of the machine was doubled. I brought this fact
to the attention of Mr. Albert Schmid, to whose untiring efforts and ability
is largely due the supremacy of American electrical machinery, and who
was then superintendent of an industrial corporation engaged in this field.
Following my suggestion, he constructed transformers of steel, and they
showed the same marked improvement. The investigation was then systematically
continued under Mr. Schmid's guidance, the impurities being gradually eliminated
from the "steel" (which was only such in name, for in reality it was pure
soft iron), and soon a product resulted which admitted of little further
improvement.
THE COMING OF AGE OF ALUMINIUM-DOOM
OF THE COPPER INDUSTRY-THE GREAT CIVILIZING POTENCY OF THE NEW METAL.
With the advances made in iron of late
years we have arrived virtually at the limits of improvement. We cannot
hope to increase very materially its tensile strength, elasticity, hardness,
or malleability, nor can we expect to make it much better as regards its
magnetic qualities. More recently a notable gain was secured by the mixture
of a small percentage of nickel with the iron, but there is not much room
for further advance in this direction. New discoveries may be expected,
but they cannot greatly add to the valuable properties of the metal, though
they may considerably reduce the cost of manufacture. The immediate future
of iron is assured by its cheapness and its unrivaled mechanical and magnetic
qualities. These are such that no other product can compete with it now.
But there can be no doubt that, at a time not very distant, iron, in many
of its now uncontested domains, will have to pass the scepter to another:
the coming age will be the age of aluminium. It is only seventy years since
this wonderful metal was discovered by Woehler, and the aluminium industry,
scarcely forty years old, commands already the attention of the entire
world. Such rapid growth has not been recorded in the history of civilization
before. Not long ago aluminium was sold at the fanciful price of thirty
or forty dollars per pound; to-day it can be had in any desired amount
for as many cents. What is more, the time is not far off when this price,
too, will be considered fanciful, for great improvements are possible in
the methods of its manufacture. Most of the metal is now produced in the
electric furnace by a process combining fusion and electrolysis, which
offers a number of advantageous features, but involves naturally a great
waste of the electrical energy of the current. My estimates show that the
price of aluminium could be considerably reduced by adopting in its manufacture
a method similar to that proposed by me for the production of iron. A pound
of aluminium requires for fusion only about seventy per cent. of the heat
needed for melting a pound of iron, and inasmuch as its weight is only
about one third of that of the latter, a volume of aluminium four times
that of iron could be obtained from a given amount of heat-energy. But
a cold electrolytic process of manufacture is the ideal solution, and on
this I have placed my hope.
The absolutely unavoidable consequence
of the advancement of the aluminium industry will be the annihilation of
the copper industry. They cannot exist and prosper together, and the latter
is doomed beyond any hope of recovery. Even now it is cheaper to convey
an electric current through aluminium wires than through copper wires;
aluminium castings cost less, and in many domestic and other uses copper
has no chance of successfully competing. A further material reduction of
the price of aluminium cannot but be fatal to copper. But the progress
of the former will not go on unchecked, for, as it ever happens in such
cases, the larger industry will absorb the smaller one: the giant copper
interests will control the pygmy aluminium interests, and the slow-pacing
copper will reduce the lively gait of aluminium. This will only delay,
not avoid the impending catastrophe.
Aluminium, however, will not stop at
downing copper. Before many years have passed it will be engaged in a fierce
struggle with iron, and in the latter it will find an adversary not easy
to conquer. The issue of the contest will largely depend on whether iron
shall be indispensable in electric machinery. This the future alone can
decide. The magnetism as exhibited in iron is an isolated phenomenon in
nature. What it is that makes this metal behave so radically different
from all other materials in this respect has not yet been ascertained,
though many theories have been suggested. As regards magnetism, the molecules
of the various bodies behave like hollow beams partly filled with a heavy
fluid and balanced in the middle in the manner of a see-saw. Evidently
some disturbing influence exists in nature which causes each molecule,
like such a beam, to tilt either one or the other way. If the molecules
are tilted one way, the body is magnetic; if they are tilted the other
way, the body is non-magnetic; but both positions are stable, as they would
be in the case of the hollow beam, owing to the rush of the fluid to the
lower end. Now, the wonderful thing is that the molecules of all known
bodies went one way, while those of iron went the other way. This metal,
it would seem, has an origin entirely different from that of the rest of
the globe. It is highly improbable that we shall discover some other and
cheaper material which will equal or surpass iron in magnetic qualities.
Unless we should make a radical departure
in the character of the electric currents employed, iron will be indispensable.
Yet the advantages it offers are only apparent. So long as we use feeble
magnetic forces it is by far superior to any other material; but if we
find ways of producing great magnetic forces, than better results will
be obtainable without it. In fact, I have already produced electric transformers
in which no iron is employed, and which are capable of performing ten times
as much work per pound of weight as those of iron. This result is attained
by using electric currents of a very high rate of vibration, produced in
novel ways, instead of the ordinary currents now employed in the industries.
I have also succeeded in operating electric motors without iron by such
rapidly vibrating currents, but the results, so far, have been inferior
to those obtained with ordinary motors constructed of iron, although theoretically
the former should be capable of performing incomparably more work per unit
of weight than the latter. But the seemingly insuperable difficulties which
are now in the way may be overcome in the end, and then iron will be done
away with, and all electric machinery will be manufactured of aluminium,
in all probability, at prices ridiculously low. This would be a severe,
if not fatal, blow to iron. In many other branches of industry, as ship-building,
or wherever lightness of structure is required, the progress of the new
metal will be much quicker. For such uses it is eminently suitable, and
is sure to supersede iron sooner or later. It is highly probable that in
the course of time we shall be able to give it many of those qualities
which make iron so valuable.
While it is impossible to tell when
this industrial revolution will be consummated, there can be no doubt that
the future belongs to aluminium, and that in times to come it will be the
chief means of increasing human performance. It has in this respect capacities
greater by far than those of any other metal. I should estimate its civilizing
potency at fully one hundred times that of iron. This estimate, though
it may astonish, is not at all exaggerated. First of all, we must remember
that there is thirty times as much aluminium as iron in bulk, available
for the uses of man. This in itself offers great possibilities. Then, again,
the new metal is much more easily workable, which adds to its value. In
many of its properties it partakes of the character of a precious metal,
which gives it additional worth. Its electric conductivity, which, for
a given weight, is greater than that of any other metal, would be alone
sufficient to make it one of the most important factors in future human
progress. Its extreme lightness makes it far more easy to transport the
objects manufactured. By virtue of this property it will revolutionize
naval construction, and in facilitating transport and travel it will add
enormously to the useful performance of mankind. But its greatest civilizing
property will be, I believe, in aërial travel, which is sure to be
brought about by means of it. Telegraphic instruments will slowly enlighten
the barbarian. Electric motors and lamps will do it more quickly, but quicker
than anything else the flying-machine will do it. By rendering travel ideally
easy it will be the best means for unifying the heterogeneous elements
of humanity. As the first step toward this realization we should produce
a lighter storage-battery or get more energy from coal.
EFFORTS TOWARD OBTAINING MORE ENERGY
FROM COAL-THE ELECTRIC TRANSMISSION-THE GAS-ENGINE-THE COLD-COAL BATTERY.
I remember that at one time I considered
the production of electricity by burning coal in a battery as the greatest
achievement toward the advancing civilization, and I am surprised to find
how much the continuous study of these subjects has modified my views.
It now seems to me that to burn coal, however efficiently, in a battery
would be a mere makeshift, a phase in the evolution toward something much
more perfect. After all, in generating electricity in this manner, we should
be destroying material, and this would be a barbarous process. We ought
to be able to obtain the energy we need without consumption of material.
But I am far from underrating the value of such an efficient method of
burning fuel. At the present time most motive power comes from coal, and,
either directly or by its products, it adds vastly to human energy. Unfortunately,
in all the process now adopted, the larger portion of the energy of the
coal is uselessly dissipated. The best steam-engines utilize only a small
part of the total energy. Even in gas-engines, in which, particularly of
late, better results are obtainable, there is still a barbarous waste going
on. In our electric-lighting systems we scarcely utilize one third of one
per cent., and in lighting by gas a much smaller fraction, of the total
energy of the coal. Considering the various uses of coal throughout the
world, we certainly do not utilize more than two per cent. of its energy
theoretically available. The man who should stop this senseless waste would
be a great benefactor of humanity, though the solution he would offer could
not be a permanent one, since it would ultimately lead to the exhaustion
of the store of material. Efforts toward obtaining more energy from coal
are now being made chiefly in two directions-by generating electricity
and by producing gas for motive-power purposes. In both of these lines
notable success has already been achieved.
The advent
of the alternating-current system of electric power-transmission marks
an epoch in the economy of energy available to man from coal. Evidently
all electrical energy obtained from a waterfall, saving so much fuel, is
a net gain to mankind, which is all the more effective as it is secured
with little expenditure of human effort, and as this most perfect of all
known methods of deriving energy from the sun contributes in many ways
to the advancement of civilization. But electricity enables us also to
get from coal much more energy than was practicable in the old ways. Instead
of transporting the coal to distant places of consumption, we burn it near
the mine, develop electricity in the dynamos, and transmit the current
to remote localities, thus effecting a considerable saving. Instead of
driving the machinery in a factory in the old wasteful way of belts and
shafting, we generate electricity by steam-power and operate electric motors.
In this manner it is not uncommon to obtain two or three times as much
effective motive power from the fuel, besides securing many other important
advantages. It is in this field as much as in the transmission of energy
to great distance that the alternating system, with its ideally simple
machinery, is bringing about an industrial revolution. But in many lines
this progress has not been yet fully felt. For example, steamers and trains
are still being propelled by the direct application of steam-power to shafts
or axles. A much greater percentage of the heat-energy of the fuel could
be transformed into motive energy by using, in place of the adopted marine
engines and locomotives, dynamos driven by specially designed high-pressure
steam- or gas-engines and by utilizing the electricity generated for the
propulsion. A gain of fifty to one hundred per cent. in the effective energy
derived from the coal could be secured in this manner. It is difficulty
to understand why a fact so plain and obvious is not receiving more attention
from engineers. In ocean steamers such an improvement would be particularly
desirable, as it would do away with noise and increase materially the speed
and the carrying capacity of the liners.
Still more energy is now being obtained
from coal by the latest improved gas-engine, the economy of which is, on
the average, probably twice that of the best steam-engine. The introduction
of the gas-engine is very much facilitated by the importance of the gas
industry. With the increasing use of the electric light more and more of
the gas is utilized for heating and motive-power purposes. In many instances
gas is manufactured close to the coal-mine and conveyed to distant places
of consumption, a considerable saving both in cost of transportation and
in utilization of the energy of the fuel being thus effected. In the present
state of the mechanical and electrical arts the most rational way of deriving
energy from coal is evidently to manufacture gas close to the coal store,
and to utilize it, either on the spot or elsewhere, to generate electricity
for industrial uses in dynamos driven by gas engines. The commercial success
of such a plant is largely dependent upon the production of gas-engines
of great nominal horse-power, which, judging from the keen activity in
this field will soon be forthcoming. Instead of consuming coal directly,
as usual, gas should be manufactured from it and burned to economize energy.
But all such improvements cannot be
more than passing phases in the evolution toward something far more perfect,
for ultimately we must succeed in obtaining electricity from coal in a
more direct way, involving no great loss of heat-energy. Whether coal can
be oxidized by a cold process is still a question. Its combination with
oxygen always involves heat, and whether the energy of the combination
of the carbon with another element can be turned directly into electrical
energy has not yet been determined. Under certain conditions nitric acid
will burn the carbon, generating an electric current, but the solution
does not remain cold. Other means of oxidizing coal have been proposed,
but they have offered no promise of leading to an efficient process. My
own lack of success has been complete, though perhaps not quite so complete
as that of some who have "perfected" the cold-coal battery. This problem
is essentially one for the chemist to solve. It is not for the physicist,
who determines all his results in advance, so that, when the experiment
is tried, it cannot fail. Chemistry, though a positive science, does not
yet admit of a solution by such positive methods as those which are available
in the treatment of many physical problems. The result, if possible, will
be arrived at through patent trying rather than through deduction or calculation.
The time will soon come, however, when the chemist will be able to follow
a course clearly mapped out beforehand, and when the process of his arriving
at a desired result will be purely constructive. The cold-coal battery
would give a great impetus to electrical development; it would lead very
shortly to a practical flying-machine, and would enormously enhance the
introduction of the automobile. But these and many other problems will
be better solved, and in a more scientific manner, by a light storage battery.
ENERGY FROM THE MEDIUM-THE WINDMILL
AND THE SOLAR ENGINE,-MOTIVE POWER FROM TERRESTRIAL HEAT-ELECTRICITY FROM
NATURAL SOURCES.
Besides fuel, there is abundant material
from which we might eventually derive power. An immense amount of energy
is locked up in limestone, for instance, and machines can be driven by
liberating the carbonic acid through sulphuric acid or otherwise. I once
constructed such an engine, and it operated satisfactorily.
But, whatever our resources of primary
energy may be in the future, we must, to be rational, obtain it without
consumption of any material. Long ago I came to this conclusion, and to
arrive at this result only two ways, as before indicated, appeared possible-either
to turn to use the energy of the sun stored in the ambient medium, or to
transmit, through the medium, the sun's energy to distant places from some
locality where it was obtainable without consumption of material. At that
time I at once rejected the latter method as entirely impracticable, and
turned to examine the possibilities of the former.
It is difficult to believe, but it
is, nevertheless, a fact, that since time immemorial man has had at his
disposal a fairly good machine which has enabled him to utilize the energy
of the ambient medium. This machine is the windmill. Contrary to popular
belief, the power obtainable from wind is very considerable. Many a deluded
inventor has spent years of his life in endeavoring to "harness the tides,"
and some have even proposed to compress air by tide- or wave-power for
supplying energy, never understanding the signs of the old windmill on
the hill, as it sorrowfully waved its arms about and bade them stop. The
fact is that a wave- or tide-motor would have, as a rule, but a small chance
of competing commercially with the windmill, which is by far the better
machine, allowing a much greater amount of energy to be obtained in a simpler
way. Wind-power has been, in old times, of inestimable value to man, if
for nothing else but for enabling him, to cross the seas, and it is even
now a very important factor in travel and transportation. But there are
great limitations in this ideally simple method of utilizing the sun's
energy. The machines are large for a given output, and the power is intermittent,
thus necessitating the storage of energy and increasing the cost of the
plant.
A far better way, however, to obtain
power would be to avail ourselves of the sun's rays, which beat the earth
incessantly and supply energy at a maximum rate of over four million horsepower
per square mile. Although the average energy received per square mile in
any locality during the year is only a small fraction of that amount, yet
an inexhaustible source of power would be opened up by the discovery of
some efficient method of utilizing the energy of the rays. The only rational
way known to me at the time when I began the study of this subject was
to employ some kind of heat- or thermodynamic-engine, driven by a volatile
fluid evaporate in a boiler by the heat of the rays. But closer investigation
of this method, and calculation, showed that, notwithstanding the apparently
vast amount of energy received from the sun's rays, only a small fraction
of that energy could be actually utilized in this manner. Furthermore,
the energy supplied through the sun's radiations is periodical, and the
same limitations as in the use of the windmill I found to exist here also.
After a long study of this mode of obtaining motive power from the sun,
taking into account the necessarily large bulk of the boiler, the low efficiency
of the heat-engine, the additional cost of storing the energy and other
drawbacks, I came to the conclusion that the "solar engine," a few instances
excepted, could not be industrially exploited with success.
Another way of getting motive power
from the medium without consuming any material would be to utilize the
heat contained in the earth, the water, or the air for driving an engine.
It is a well-known fact that the interior portions of the globe are very
hot, the temperature rising, as observations show, with the approach to
the center at the rate of approximately 1 degree C. for every hundred feet
of depth. The difficulties of sinking shafts and placing boilers at depths
of, say, twelve thousand feet, corresponding to an increase in temperature
of about 120 degrees C., are not insuperable, and we could certainly avail
ourselves in this way of the internal heat of the globe. In fact, it would
not be necessary to go to any depth at all in order to derive energy from
the stored terrestrial heat. The superficial layers of the earth and the
air strata close to the same are at a temperature sufficiently high to
evaporate some extremely volatile substances, which we might use in our
boilers instead of water. There is no doubt that a vessel might be propelled
on the ocean by an engine driven by such a volatile fluid, no other energy
being used but the heat abstracted from the water. But the amount of power
which could be obtained in this manner would be, without further provision,
very small.
Electricity produced by natural causes
is another source of energy which might be rendered available. Lightning
discharges involve great amounts of electrical energy, which we could utilize
by transforming and storing it. Some years ago I made known a method of
electrical transformation which renders the first part of this task easy,
but the storing of the energy of lightning discharges will be difficult
to accomplish. It is well known, furthermore, that electric currents circulate
constantly through the earth, and that there exists between the earth and
any air stratum a difference of electrical pressure, which varies in proportion
to the height.
In recent experiments I have discovered
two novel facts of importance in this connection. One of these facts is
that an electric current is generated in a wire extending from the ground
to a great height by the axial, and probably also by the translatory, movement
of the earth. No appreciable current, however, will flow continuously in
the wire unless the electricity is allowed to leak out into the air. Its
escape is greatly facilitated by providing at the elevated end of the wire
a conducting terminal of great surface, with many sharp edges or points.
We are thus enabled to get a continuous supply of electrical energy by
merely supporting a wire at a height, but, unfortunately, the amount of
electricity which can be so obtained is small.
The second fact which I have ascertained
is that the upper air strata are permanently charged with electricity opposite
to that of the earth. So, at least, I have interpreted my observations,
from which it appears that the earth, with its adjacent insulating and
outer conducting envelope, constitutes a highly charged electrical condenser
containing, in all probability, a great amount of electrical energy which
might be turned to the uses of man, if it were possible to reach with a
wire to great altitudes.
It is possible, and even probable,
that there will be, in time, other resources of energy opened up, of which
we have no knowledge now. We may even find ways of applying forces such
as magnetism or gravity for driving machinery without using any other means.
Such realizations, though highly improbable, are not impossible. An example
will best convey an idea of what we can hope to attain and what we can
never attain. Imagine a disk of some homogeneous material turned perfectly
true and arranged to turn in frictionless bearings on a horizontal shaft
above the ground. This disk, being under the above conditions perfectly
balanced, would rest in any position. Now, it is possible that we may learn
how to make such a disk rotate continuously and perform work by the force
of gravity without any further effort on our part; but it is perfectly
impossible for the disk to turn and to do work without any force from the
outside. If it could do so, it would be what is designated scientifically
as a "perpetuum mobile," a machine creating its own motive power. To make
the disk rotate by the force of gravity we have only to invent a screen
against this force. By such a screen we could prevent this force from acting
on one half of the disk, and the rotation of the latter would follow. At
least, we cannot deny such a possibility until we know exactly the nature
of the force of gravity. Suppose that this force were due to a movement
comparable to that of a stream of air passing from above toward the center
of the earth. The effect of such a stream upon both halves of the disk
would be equal, and the latter would not rotate ordinarily; but if one
half should be guarded by a plate arresting the movement, then it would
turn.
A DEPARTURE
FROM KNOWN METHODS-POSSIBILITY OF A "SELF-ACTING" ENGINE OR MACHINE, INANIMATE,
YET CAPABLE, LIKE A LIVING BEING, OF DERIVING ENERGY FROM THE MEDIUM-THE
IDEAL WAY OF OBTAINING MOTIVE POWER.
When I began the investigation of the
subject under consideration, and when the preceding or similar ideas presented
themselves to me for the first time, though I was then unacquainted with
a number of the facts mentioned, a survey of the various ways of utilizing
the energy of the medium convinced me, nevertheless, that to arrive at
a thoroughly satisfactory practical solution a radical departure from the
methods then known had to be made. The windmill, the solar engine, the
engine driven by terrestrial heat, had their limitations in the amount
of power obtainable. Some new way had to be discovered which would enable
us to get more energy. There was enough heat-energy in the medium, but
only a small part of it was available for the operation of an engine in
the ways then known. Besides, the energy was obtainable only at a very
slow rate. Clearly, then, the problem was to discover some new method which
would make it possible both to utilize more of the heat-energy of the medium
and also to draw it away from the same at a more rapid rate.
I was vainly endeavoring to form an
idea of how this might be accomplished, when I read some statements from
Carnot and Lord Kelvin (then Sir William Thomson) which meant virtually
that it is impossible for an inanimate mechanism or self-acting machine
to cool a portion of the medium below the temperature of the surrounding,
and operate by the heat abstracted. These statements interested me intensely.
Evidently a living being could do this very thing, and since the experiences
of my early life which I have related had convinced me that a living being
is only an automaton, or, otherwise stated, a "self-acting-engine," I came
to the conclusion that it was possible to construct a machine which would
do the same. As the first step toward this realization I conceived the
following mechanism. Imagine a thermopile consisting of a number of bars
of metal extending from the earth to the outer space beyond the atmosphere.
The heat from below, conducted upward along these metal bars, would cool
the earth or the sea or the air, according to the location of the lower
parts of the bars, and the result, as is well known, would be an electric
current circulating in these bars. The two terminals of the thermopile
could now be joined through an electric motor, and, theoretically, this
motor would run on and on, until the media below would be cooled down to
the temperature of the outer space. This would be an inanimate engine which,
to all evidence, would be cooling a portion of the medium below the temperature
of the surrounding, and operating by the heat abstracted.
DIAGRAM b. OBTAINING ENERGY
FROM THE AMBIENT MEDIUM
A, medium with little energy;
B, B, ambient medium with much energy; O, path of
the energy.
But was it not possible to realize
a similar condition without necessarily going to a height? Conceive, for
the sake of illustration, [a cylindrical] enclosure T, as illustrated in
diagram b, such that energy could not be transferred across it except through
a channel or path O, and that, by some means or other, in this enclosure
a medium were maintained which would have little energy, and that on the
outer side of the same there would be the ordinary ambient medium with
much energy. Under these assumptions the energy would flow through the
path O, as indicated by the arrow, and might then be converted on its passage
into some other form of energy. The question was, Could such a condition
be attained? Could we produce artificially such a "sink" for the energy
of the ambient medium to flow in? Suppose that an extremely low temperature
could be maintained by some process in a given space; the surrounding medium
would then be compelled to give off heat, which could be converted into
mechanical or other form of energy, and utilized. By realizing such a plan,
we should be enabled to get at any point of the globe a continuous supply
of energy, day and night. More than this, reasoning in the abstract, it
would seem possible to cause a quick circulation of the medium, and thus
draw the energy at a very rapid rate.
Here, then, was an idea which, if realizable,
afforded a happy solution of the problem of getting energy from the medium.
But was it realizable? I convinced myself that it was so in a number of
ways, of which one is the following. As regards heat, we are at a high
level, which may be represented by the surface of a mountain lake considerably
above the sea, the level of which may mark the absolute zero of temperature
existing in the interstellar space. Heat, like water, flows from high to
low level, and, consequently, just as we can let the water of the lake
run down to the sea, so we are able to let heat from the earth's surface
travel up into the cold region above. Heat, like water, can perform work
in flowing down, and if we had any doubt as to whether we could derive
energy from the medium by means of a thermopile, as before described, it
would be dispelled by this analogue. But can we produce cold in a given
portion of the space and cause the heat to flow in continually? To create
such a "sink," or "cold hole," as we might say, in the medium, would be
equivalent to producing in the lake a space either empty or filled with
something much lighter than water. This we could do by placing in the lake
a tank, and pumping all the water out of the latter. We know, then, that
the water, if allowed to flow back into the tank, would, theoretically,
be able to perform exactly the same amount of work which was used in pumping
it out, but not a bit more. Consequently nothing could be gained in this
double operation of first raising the water and then letting it fall down.
This would mean that it is impossible to create such a sink in the medium.
But let us reflect a moment. Heat, though following certain general laws
of mechanics, like a fluid, is not such; it is energy which may be converted
into other forms of energy as it passes from a high to a low level. To
make our mechanical analogy complete and true, we must, therefore, assume
that the water, in its passage into the tank, is converted into something
else, which may be taken out of it without using any, or by using very
little, power. For example, if heat be represented in this analogue by
the water of the lake, the oxygen and hydrogen composing the water may
illustrate other forms of energy into which the heat is transformed in
passing from hot to cold. If the process of heat transformation were absolutely
perfect, no heat at all would arrive at the low level, since all of it
would be converted into other forms of energy. Corresponding to this ideal
case, all the water flowing into the tank would be decomposed into oxygen
and hydrogen before reaching the bottom, and the result would be that water
would continually flow in, and yet the tank would remain entirely empty,
the gases formed escaping. We would thus produce, by expending initially
a certain amount of work to create a sink for the heat or, respectively,
the water to flow in, a condition enabling us to get any amount of energy
without further effort. This would be an ideal way of obtaining motive
power. We do not know of any such absolutely perfect process of heat-conversion,
and consequently some heat will generally reach the low level, which means
to say, in our mechanical analogue, that some water will arrive at the
bottom of the tank, and a gradual and slow filling of the latter will take
place, necessitating continuous pumping out. But evidently there will be
less to pump out than flows in, or, in other words, less energy will be
needed to maintain the initial condition than is developed by the fall,
and this is to say that some energy will be gained from the medium. What
is not converted in flowing down can just be raised up with its own energy,
and what is converted is clear gain. Thus the virtue of the principle I
have discovered resides wholly in the conversion of the energy on the downward
flow.
FIRST EFFORTS TO PRODUCE THE SELF-ACTING
ENGINE-THE MECHANICAL OSCILLATOR-WORK OF DEWAR AND LINDE-LIQUID AIR.
Having recognized this truth, I began
to devise means for carrying out my idea, and, after long thought, I finally
conceived a combination of apparatus which should make possible the obtaining
of power from the medium by a process of continuous cooling of atmospheric
air. This apparatus, by continually transforming heat into mechanical work,
tended to become colder and colder, and if it only were practicable to
reach a very low temperature in this manner, then a sink for the heat could
be produced, and energy could be derived from the medium. This seemed to
be contrary to the statements of Carnot and Lord Kelvin before referred
to, but I concluded from the theory of the process that such a result could
be attained. This conclusion I reached, I think, in the latter part of
1883, when I was in Paris, and it was at a time when my mind was being
more and more dominated by an invention which I had evolved during the
preceding year, and which has since become known under the name of the
"rotating magnetic field." During the few years which followed I elaborated
further the plan I had imagined, and studied the working conditions, but
made little headway. The commercial introduction in this country of the
invention before referred to required most of my energies until 1889, when
I again took up the idea of the self-acting machine. A closer investigation
of the principles involved, and calculation, now showed that the result
I aimed at could not be reached in a practical manner by ordinary machinery,
as I had in the beginning expected. This led me, as a next step, to the
study of a type of engine generally designated as "turbine," which at first
seemed to offer better chances for a realization of the idea. Soon I found,
however, that the turbine, too, was unsuitable. But my conclusions showed
that if an engine of a peculiar kind could be brought to a high degree
of perfection, the plan I had conceived was realizable, and I resolved
to proceed with the development of such an engine, the primary object of
which was to secure the greatest economy of transformation of heat into
mechanical energy. A characteristic feature of the engine was that the
work-performing piston was not connected with anything else, but was perfectly
free to vibrate at an enormous rate. The mechanical difficulties encountered
in the construction of this engine were greater than I had anticipated,
and I made slow progress. This work was continued until early in 1892,
when I went to London, where I saw Professor Dewar's admirable experiments
with liquefied gases. Others had liquefied gases before, and notably Ozlewski
and Pictet had performed creditable early experiments in this line, but
there was such a vigor about the work of Dewar that even the old appeared
new. His experiments showed, though in a way different from that I had
imagined, that it was possible to reach a very low temperature by transforming
heat into mechanical work, and I returned, deeply impressed with what I
had seen, and more than ever convinced that my plan was practicable. The
work temporarily interrupted was taken up anew, and soon I had in a fair
state of perfection the engine which I have named "the mechanical oscillator."
In this machine I succeeded in doing away with all packings, valves, and
lubrication, and in producing so rapid a vibration of the piston that shafts
of tough steel, fastened to the same and vibrated longitudinally, were
torn asunder. By combining this engine with a dynamo of special design
I produced a highly efficient electrical generator, invaluable in measurements
and determinations of physical quantities on account of the unvarying rate
of oscillation obtainable by its means. I exhibited several types of this
machine, named "mechanical and electrical oscillator," before the Electrical
Congress at the World's Fair in Chicago during the summer of 1893, in a
lecture which, on account of other pressing work, I was unable to prepare
for publication. On that occasion I exposed the principles of the mechanical
oscillator, but the original purpose of this machine is explained here
for the first time.
In the process, as I had primarily
conceived it, for the utilization of the energy of the ambient medium,
there were five essential elements in combination, and each of these had
to be newly designed and perfected, as no such machines existed. The mechanical
oscillator was the first element of this combination, and having perfected
this, I turned to the next, which was an air-compressor of a design in
certain respects resembling that of the mechanical oscillator. Similar
difficulties in the construction were again encountered, but the work was
pushed vigorously, and at the close of 1894 I had completed these two elements
of the combination, and thus produced an apparatus for compressing air,
virtually to any desired pressure, incomparably simpler, smaller, and more
efficient than the ordinary. I was just beginning work on the third element,
which together with the first two would give a refrigerating machine of
exceptional efficiency and simplicity, when a misfortune befell me in the
burning of my laboratory, which crippled my labors and delayed me. Shortly
afterward Dr. Carl Linde announced the liquefaction of air by a self-cooling
process, demonstrating that it was practicable to proceed with the cooling
until liquefaction of the air took place. This was the only experimental
proof which I was still wanting that energy was obtainable from the medium
in the manner contemplated by me.
The liquefaction of air by a self-cooling
process was not, as popularly believed, an accidental discovery, but a
scientific result which could not have been delayed much longer, and which,
in all probability, could not have escaped Dewar. This fascinating advance,
I believe, is largely due to the powerful work of this great Scotchman.
Nevertheless, Linde's is an immortal achievement. The manufacture of liquid
air has been carried on for four years in Germany, on a scale much larger
than in any other country, and this strange product has been applied for
a variety of purposes. Much was expected of it in the beginning, but so
far it has been an industrial ignis fatuus. By the use of such machinery
as I am perfecting, its cost will probably be greatly lessened, but even
then its commercial success will be questionable. When, used as a refrigerant
it is uneconomical, as its temperature is unnecessarily low. It is as expensive
to maintain a body at a very low temperature as it is to keep it very hot;
it takes coal to keep air cold. In oxygen manufacture it cannot yet compete
with the electrolytic method. For use as an explosive it is unsuitable,
because its low temperature again condemns it to a small efficiency, and
for motive-power purposes its cost is still by far too high. It is of interest
to note, however, that in driving an engine by liquid air a certain amount
of energy may be gained from the engine, or, stated otherwise, from the
ambient medium which keeps the engine warm, each two hundred pounds of
iron-casting of the latter contributing energy at the rate of about one
effective horsepower during one hour. But this gain of the consumer is
offset by an equal loss of the producer.
Much of this task on which I have labored
so long remains to be done. A number of mechanical details are still to
be perfected and some difficulties of a different nature to be mastered,
and I cannot hope to produce a self-acting machine deriving energy from
the ambient medium for a long time yet, even if all my expectations should
materialize. Many circumstances have occurred which have retarded my work
of late, but for several reasons the delay was beneficial.
One of these reasons was that I had
ample time to consider what the ultimate possibilities of this development
might be. I worked for a long time fully convinced that the practical realization
of this method of obtaining energy from the sun would be of incalculable
industrial value, but the continued study of the subject revealed the fact
that while it will be commercially profitable if my expectations are well
founded, it will not be so to an extraordinary degree.
DISCOVERY OF UNEXPECTED PROPERTIES
OF THE ATMOSPHERE-STRANGE EXPERIMENTS-TRANSMISSION OF ELECTRICAL ENERGY
THROUGH ONE WIRE WITHOUT RETURN-TRANSMISSION THROUGH THE EARTH WITHOUT
ANY WIRE.
Another of these reasons was that I
was led to recognize the transmission of electrical energy to any distance
through the media as by far the best solution of the great problem of harnessing
the sun's energy for the uses of man. For a long time I was convinced that
such a transmission on an industrial scale, could never be realized, but
a discovery which I made changed my view. I observed that under certain
conditions the atmosphere, which is normally a high insulator, assumes
conducting properties, and so becomes capable of conveying any amount of
electrical energy. But the difficulties in the way of a practical utilization
of this discovery for the purpose of transmitting electrical energy without
wires were seemingly insuperable. Electrical pressures of many millions
of volts had to be produced and handled; generating apparatus of a novel
kind, capable of withstanding the immense electrical stresses, had to be
invented and perfected, and a complete safety against the dangers of the
high-tension currents had to be attained in the system before its practical
introduction could be even thought of. All this could not be done in a
few weeks or months, or even years. The work required patience and constant
application, but the improvements came, though slowly. Other valuable results
were, however, arrived at in the course of this long-continued work, of
which I shall endeavor to give a brief account, enumerating the chief advances
as they were successively effected.
The discovery of the conducting properties
of the air, though unexpected, was only a natural result of experiments
in a special field which I had carried on for some years before. It was,
I believe, during 1889 that certain possibilities offered by extremely
rapid electrical oscillations determined me to design a number of special
machines adapted for their investigation. Owing to the peculiar requirements,
the construction of these machines was very difficult, and consumed much
time and effort; but my work on them was generously rewarded, for I reached
by their means several novel and important results. One of the earliest
observations I made with these new machines was that electrical oscillations
of an extremely high rate act in an extraordinary manner upon the human
organism. Thus, for instance, I demonstrated that powerful electrical discharges
of several hundred thousand volts, which at that time were considered absolutely
deadly, could be passed through the body without inconvenience or hurtful
consequences. These oscillations produced other specific physiological
effects, which, upon my announcement, were eagerly taken up by skilled
physicians and further investigated. This new field has proved itself fruitful
beyond expectation, and in the few years which have passed since, it has
been developed to such an extent that it now forms a legitimate and important
department of medical science. Many results, thought impossible at that
time, are now readily obtainable with these oscillations, and many experiments
undreamed of then can now be readily performed by their means. I still
remember with pleasure how, nine years ago, I passed the discharge of a
powerful induction-coil through my body to demonstrate before a scientific
society the comparative harmlessness of very rapidly vibrating electric
currents, and I can still recall the astonishment of my audience. I would
now undertake, with much less apprehension that I had in that experiment,
to transmit through my body with such currents the entire electrical energy
of the dynamos now working at Niagara-forty or fifty thousand horse-power.
I have produced electrical oscillations which were of such intensity that
when circulating through my arms and chest they have melted wires which
joined my hands, and still I felt no inconvenience. I have energized with
such oscillations a loop of heavy copper wire so powerfully that masses
of metal, and even objects of an electrical resistance specifically greater
than that of human tissue brought close to or placed within the loop, were
heated to a high temperature and melted, often with the violence of an
explosion, and yet into this very space in which this terribly-destructive
turmoil was going on I have repeatedly thrust my head without feeling anything
or experiencing injurious after-effects.
Another observation was that by means
of such oscillations light could be produced in a novel and more economical
manner, which promised to lead to an ideal system of electric illumination
by vacuum-tubes, dispensing with the necessity of renewal of lamps or incandescent
filaments, and possibly also with the use of wires in the interior of buildings.
The efficiency of this light increases in proportion to the rate of the
oscillations, and its commercial success is, therefore, dependent on the
economical production of electrical vibrations of transcending rates. In
this direction I have met with gratifying success of late, and the practical
introduction of this new system of illumination is not far off.
The investigations led to many other
valuable observations and results, one of the more important of which was
the demonstration of the practicability of supplying electrical energy
through one wire without return. At first I was able to transmit in this
novel manner only very small amounts of electrical energy, but in this
line also my efforts have been rewarded with similar success.
[See Nikola Tesla: Colorado Springs
Notes, page 360, Photograph XXVIII.]
FIG. 3. EXPERIMENT TO ILLUSTRATE THE
SUPPLYING OF ELECTRICAL ENERGY THROUGH A SINGLE WIRE WITHOUT RETURN
An ordinary incandescent lamp, connected
with one or both of its terminals to the wire forming the upper free end
of the coil shown in the photograph, is lighted by electrical vibrations
conveyed to it through the coil from an electrical oscillator, which is
worked only to one fifth of one per cent. of its full capacity.
The photograph shown in Fig. 3 illustrates,
as its title explains, an actual transmission of this kind effected with
apparatus used in other experiments here described. To what a degree the
appliances have been perfected since my first demonstrations early in 1891
before a scientific society, when my apparatus was barely capable of lighting
one lamp (which result was considered wonderful), will appear when I state
that I have now no difficulty in lighting in this manner four or five hundred
lamps, and could light many more. In fact, there is no limit to the amount
of energy which may in this way be supplied to operate any kind of electrical
device.
[See Nikola Tesla: Colorado Springs
Notes, page 354, Photograph XXVI.]
FIG. 4. EXPERIMENT TO ILLUSTRATE THE
TRANSMISSION OF ELECTRICAL ENERGY THROUGH THE EARTH WITHOUT WIRE.
The coil shown in the photograph has
its lower end or terminal connected to the ground, and is exactly attuned
to the vibrations of a distant electrical oscillator. The lamp lighted
is in an independent wire loop, energized by induction from the coil excited
by the electrical vibrations transmitted to it through the ground from
the oscillator, which is worked only to five per cent. of its full capacity.
After demonstrating the practicability
of this method of transmission, the thought naturally occurred to me to
use the earth as a conductor, thus dispensing with all wires. Whatever
electricity may be, it is a fact that it behaves like an incompressible
fluid, and the earth may be looked upon as an immense reservoir of electricity,
which, I thought, could be disturbed effectively by a properly designed
electrical machine. Accordingly, my next efforts were directed toward perfecting
a special apparatus which would be highly effective in creating a disturbance
of electricity in the earth. The progress in this new direction was necessarily
very slow and the work discouraging, until I finally succeeded in perfecting
a novel kind of transformer or induction-coil, particularly suited for
this special purpose. That it is practicable, in this manner, not only
to transmit minute amounts of electrical energy for operating delicate
electrical devices, as I contemplated at first, but also electrical energy
in appreciable quantities, will appear from an inspection of Fig. 4, which
illustrates an actual experiment of this kind performed with the same apparatus.
The result obtained was all the more remarkable as the top end of the coil
was not connected to a wire or plate for magnifying the effect.
"WIRELESS" TELEGRAPHY-THE SECRET OF
TUNING-ERRORS IN THE HERTZIAN INVESTIGATIONS-A RECEIVER OF WONDERFUL SENSITIVENESS.
As the first valuable result of my
experiments in this latter line a system of telegraphy without wires resulted,
which I described in two scientific lectures in February and March, 1893.
It is mechanically illustrated in diagram c, the upper part of which
shows the electrical arrangement as I described it then, while the lower
part illustrates its mechanical analogue. The system is extremely simple
in principle. Imagine two tuning-forks F, F1, one at
the sending- and the other at the receiving-station respectively, each
having attached to its lower prong a minute piston p, fitting in
a cylinder. Both the cylinders communicate with a large reservoir R,
with elastic walls, which is supposed to be closed and filled with a light
and incompressible fluid. By striking repeatedly one of the prongs of the
tuning-fork F, the small piston p below would be vibrated,
and its vibrations, transmitted through the fluid, would reach the distant
fork F1, which is "tuned" to the fork F, or, stated
otherwise, of exactly the same note as the latter. The fork F1
would now be set vibrating, and its vibration would be intensified by the
continued action of the distant fork F until its upper prong, swinging
far out, would make an electrical connection with a stationary contact
c'', starting in this manner some electrical or other appliances
which may be used for recording the signals. In this simple way messages
could be exchanged between the two stations, a similar contact c'
being provided for this purpose, close to the upper prong of the fork F,
so that the apparatus at each station could be employed in turn as receiver
and transmitter.
DIAGRAM c. "WIRELESS" TELEGRAPHY
MECHANICALLY ILLUSTRATED.
The electrical system illustrated in
the upper figure of diagram c is exactly the same in principle,
the two wires or circuits ESP and E1S1P1,
which extend vertically to a height, representing the two tuning-forks
with the pistons attached to them. These circuits are connected with the
ground by plates E, E1, and to two elevated metal sheets
P, P1, which store electricity and thus magnify considerably
the effect. The closed reservoir R, with elastic walls, is in this
case replaced by the earth, and the fluid by electricity. Both of these
circuits are "tuned" and operate just like the two tuning-forks. Instead
of striking the fork F at the sending-station, electrical oscillations
are produced in the vertical sending- or transmitting-wire ESP,
as by the action of a source S, included in this wire, which spread
through the ground and reach the distant vertical receiving-wire E1S1P1,
exciting corresponding electrical oscillations in the same. In the latter
wire or circuit is included a sensitive device or receiver S1,
which is thus set in action and made to operate a relay or other appliance.
Each station is, of course, provided both with a source of electrical oscillations
S and a sensitive receiver S1, and a simple provision
is made for using each of the two wires alternately to send and to receive
the messages.
[See Nikola Tesla: Colorado Springs
Notes, page 326, Photograph V.]
FIG. 5. PHOTOGRAPHIC VIEW OF THE COILS
RESPONDING TO ELECTRICAL OSCILLATIONS.
The picture shows a number of coils
, differently attuned and responding to the vibrations transmitted to them
through the earth from an electrical oscillator. The large coil on the
right, discharging strongly, is tuned to the fundamental vibration, which
is fifty thousand per second; the two larger vertical coils to twice that
number; the smaller white wire coil to four times that number, and the
remaining small coils to higher tones. The vibrations produced by the oscillator
were so intense that they affected perceptibly a small coil tuned to the
twenty-sixth higher tone.
The exact attunement of the two circuits
secures great advantages, and, in fact, it is essential in the practical
use of the system. In this respect many popular errors exist, and, as a
rule, in the technical reports on this subject circuits and appliances
are described as affording these advantages when from their very nature
it is evident that this is impossible. In order to attain the best results
it is essential that the length of each wire or circuit, from the ground
connection to the top, should be equal to one quarter of the wave-length
of the electrical vibration in the wire, or else equal to that length multiplied
by an odd number. Without the observation of this rule it is virtually
impossible to prevent the interference and insure the privacy of messages.
Therein lies the secret of tuning. To obtain the most satisfactory results
it is, however, necessary to resort to electrical vibrations of low pitch.
The Hertzian spark apparatus, used generally by experimenters, which produces
oscillations of a very high rate, permits no effective tuning, and slight
disturbances are sufficient to render an exchange of messages impracticable.
But scientifically designed, efficient appliances allow nearly perfect
adjustment. An experiment performed with the improved apparatus repeatedly
referred to, and intended to convey an idea of this feature, is illustrated
in Fig. 5, which is sufficiently explained by its note.
Since I described these simple principles
of telegraphy without wires I have had frequent occasion to note that the
identical features and elements have been used, in the evident belief that
the signals are being transmitted to considerable distance by "Hertzian"
radiations. This is only one of many misapprehensions to which the investigations
of the lamented physicist have given rise. About thirty-three years ago
Maxwell, following up a suggestive experiment made by Faraday in 1845,
evolved an ideally simple theory which intimately connected light, radiant
heat, and electrical phenomena, interpreting them as being all due to vibrations
of a hypothetical fluid of inconceivable tenuity, called the ether. No
experimental verification was arrived at until Hertz, at the suggestion
of Helmholtz, undertook a series of experiments to this effect. Hertz proceeded
with extraordinary ingenuity and insight, but devoted little energy to
the perfection of his old-fashioned apparatus. The consequence was that
he failed to observe the important function which the air played in his
experiments, and which I subsequently discovered. Repeating his experiments
and reaching different results, I ventured to point out this oversight.
The strength of the proofs brought forward by Hertz in support of Maxwell's
theory resided in the correct estimate of the rates of vibration of the
circuits he used. But I ascertained that he could not have obtained the
rates he thought he was getting. The vibrations with identical apparatus
he employed are, as a rule, much slower, this being due to the presence
of air, which produces a dampening effect upon a rapidly vibrating electric
circuit of high pressure, as a fluid does upon a vibrating tuning-fork.
I have, however, discovered since that time other causes of error, and
I have long ago ceased to look upon his results as being an experimental
verification of the poetical conceptions of Maxwell. The work of the great
German physicist has acted as an immense stimulus to contemporary electrical
research, but it has likewise, in a measure, by its fascination, paralyzed
the scientific mind, and thus hampered independent inquiry. Every new phenomenon
which was discovered was made to fit the theory, and so very often the
truth has been unconsciously distorted.
When I advanced this system of telegraphy,
my mind was dominated by the idea of effecting communication to any distance
through the earth or environing medium, the practical consummation of which
I considered of transcendent importance, chiefly on account of the moral
effect which it could not fail to produce universally. As the first effort
to this end I proposed at that time, to employ relay-stations with tuned
circuits, in the hope of making thus practicable signaling over vast distances,
even with apparatus of very moderate power then at my command. I was confident,
however, that with properly designed machinery signals could be transmitted
to any point of the globe, no matter what the distance, without the necessity
of using such intermediate stations. I gained this conviction through the
discovery of a singular electrical phenomenon, which I described early
in 1892, in lectures I delivered before some scientific societies abroad,
and which I have called a "rotating brush." This is a bundle of light which
is formed, under certain conditions, in a vacuum-bulb, and which is of
a sensitiveness to magnetic and electric influences bordering, so to speak,
on the supernatural. This light-bundle is rapidly rotated by the earth's
magnetism as many as twenty thousand times pre second, the rotation in
these parts being opposite to what it would be in the southern hemisphere,
while in the region of the magnetic equator it should not rotate at all.
In its most sensitive state, which is difficult to obtain, it is responsive
to electric or magnetic influences to an incredible degree. The mere stiffening
of the muscles of the arm and consequent slight electrical change in the
body of an observer standing at some distance from it, will perceptibly
affect it. When in this highly sensitive state it is capable of indicating
the slightest magnetic and electric changes taking place in the earth.
The observation of this wonderful phenomenon impressed me strongly that
communication at any distance could be easily effected by its means, provided
that apparatus could be perfected capable of producing an electric or magnetic
change of state, however small, in the terrestrial globe or environing
medium.
DEVELOPMENT OF A NEW PRINCIPLE-THE
ELECTRICAL OSCILLATOR-PRODUCTION OF IMMENSE ELECTRICAL MOVEMENTS-THE EARTH
RESPONDS TO MAN-INTERPLANETARY COMMUNICATION NOW PROBABLE.
I resolved to concentrate my efforts
upon this venturesome task, though it involved great sacrifice, for the
difficulties to be mastered were such that I could hope to consummate it
only after years of labor. It meant delay of other work to which I would
have preferred to devote myself, but I gained the conviction that my energies
could not be more usefully employed; for I recognized that an efficient
apparatus for, the production of powerful electrical oscillations, as was
needed for that specific purpose, was the key to the solution of other
most important electrical and, in fact, human problems. Not only was communication,
to any distance, without wires possible by its means, but, likewise, the
transmission of energy in great amounts, the burning of the atmospheric
nitrogen, the production of an efficient illuminant, and many other results
of inestimable scientific and industrial value. Finally, however, I had
the satisfaction of accomplishing the task undertaken by the use of a new
principle, the virtue of which is based on the marvelous properties of
the electrical condenser. One of these is that it can discharge or explode
its stored energy in an inconceivably short time. Owing to this it is unequaled
in explosive violence. The explosion of dynamite is only the breath of
a consumptive compared with its discharge. It is the means of producing
the strongest current, the highest electrical pressure, the greatest commotion
in the medium. Another of its properties, equally valuable, is that its
discharge may vibrate at any rate desired up to many millions per second.
[See Nikola Tesla: Colorado Springs
Notes, page 324, Photograph III.]
FIG. 6. PHOTOGRAPHIC VIEW OF THE ESSENTIAL
PARTS OF THE ELECTRICAL OSCILLATOR USED IN THE EXPERIMENTS DESCRIBED
I had arrived at the limit of rates
obtainable in other ways when the happy idea presented itself to me to
resort to the condenser. I arranged such an instrument so as to be charged
and discharged alternately in rapid succession through a coil with a few
turns of stout wire, forming the primary of a transformer or induction-coil.
Each time the condenser was discharged the current would quiver in the
primary wire and induce corresponding oscillations in the secondary. Thus
a transformer or induction-coil on new principles was evolved, which I
have called "the electrical oscillator," partaking of those unique qualities
which characterize the condenser, and enabling results to be attained impossible
by other means. Electrical effects of any desired character and of intensities
undreamed of before are now easily producible by perfected apparatus of
this kind, to which frequent reference has been made, and the essential
parts of which are shown in Fig. 6. For certain purposes a strong inductive
effect is required; for others the greatest possible suddenness; for others
again, an exceptionally high rate of vibration or extreme pressure; while
for certain other objects immense electrical movements are necessary. The
photographs in Figs. 7, 8, 9, and 10, of experiments performed with such
an oscillator, may serve to illustrate some of these features and convey
an idea of the magnitude of the effects actually produced. The completeness
of the titles of the figures referred to makes a further description of
them unnecessary.
[See Nikola Tesla: Colorado Springs
Notes, page 344, Photograph XVII.]
FIG. 7. EXPERIMENT TO ILLUSTRATE AN
INDUCTIVE EFFECT OF AN ELECTRICAL OSCILLATOR OF GREAT POWER.
The photograph shows three ordinary
incandescent lamps lighted to full candle-power by currents induced in
a local loop consisting of a single wire forming a square of fifty feet
each side, which includes the lamps, and which is at a distance of one
hundred feet from the primary circuit energized by the oscillator. The
loop likewise includes an electrical condenser, and is exactly attuned
to the vibrations of the oscillator, which is worked at less than five
percent of its total capacity.
[See Nikola Tesla: Colorado Springs
Notes, page 335, Photograph XI.]
FIG. 8. EXPERIMENT TO ILLUSTRATE THE
CAPACITY OF THE OSCILLATOR FOR PRODUCING ELECTRICAL EXPLOSIONS OF GREAT
POWER.
Note to Fig. 8.-The
coil, partly shown in the photograph, creates an alternative movement of
electricity from the earth into a large reservoir and back at a rate of
one hundred thousand alternations per second. The adjustments are such
that the reservoir is filled full and bursts at each
alternation just at the moment when the electrical pressure reaches the
maximum. The discharge escapes with a deafening noise, striking an unconnected
coil twenty-two feet away, and creating such a commotion of electricity
in the earth that sparks an inch long can be drawn from a water main at
a distance of three hundred feet from the laboratory.
[See Nikola Tesla: Colorado Springs
Notes, page 390, Photograph LXII.]
FIG. 9. EXPERIMENT TO ILLUSTRATE THE
CAPACITY ON THE OSCILLATOR FOR CREATING A GREAT ELECTRICAL MOVEMENT.
The ball shown in the photograph,
covered with a polished metallic coating of twenty square feet of surface,
represents a large reservoir of electricity, and the inverted tin pan underneath,
with a sharp rim, a big opening through which the electricity can escape
before filling the reservoir. The quantity of electricity set in movement
is so great that, although most of it escapes through the rim of the pan
or opening provided, the ball or reservoir is nevertheless alternately
emptied and filled to over-flowing (as is evident from the discharge escaping
on the top of the ball) one hundred and fifty thousand times per second.
[See Nikola Tesla: Colorado Springs
Notes, page 332, Photograph IX.]
FIG. 10. PHOTOGRAPHIC VIEW OF AN EXPERIMENT
TO ILLUSTRATE AN EFFECT OF AN ELECTRICAL OSCILLATOR DELIVERING ENERGY AT
A RATE OF SEVENTY-FIVE THOUSAND HORSE-POWER.
The discharge, creating a strong draft
owing to the heating of the air, is carried upward through the open roof
of the building. The greatest width across is nearly seventy feet. The
pressure is over twelve million volts, and the current alternates one hundred
and thirty thousand times per second.
However extraordinary the results shown
may appear, they are but trifling compared with those which are attainable
by apparatus designed on these same principles. I have produced electrical
discharges the actual path of which, from end to end, was probably more
than one hundred feet long; but it would not be difficult to reach lengths
one hundred times as great. I have produced electrical movements occurring
at the rate of approximately one hundred thousand horse-power, but rates
of one, five, or ten million horse-power are easily practicable. In these
experiments effects were developed incomparably greater than any ever produced
by human agencies, and yet these results are but an embryo of what is to
be.
That communication without wires to
any point of the globe is practicable with such apparatus would need no
demonstration, but through a discovery which I made I obtained absolute
certitude. Popularly explained, it is exactly this: When we raise the voice
and hear an echo in reply, we know that the sound of the voice must have
reached a distant wall, or boundary, and must have been reflected from
the same. Exactly as the sound, so an electrical wave is reflected, and
the same evidence which is afforded by an echo is offered by an electrical
phenomenon known as a "stationary" wave-that is, a wave with fixed nodal
and ventral regions. Instead of sending sound-vibrations toward a distant
wall, I have sent electrical vibrations toward the remote boundaries of
the earth, and instead of the wall the earth has replied. In place of an
echo I have obtained a stationary electrical wave, a wave reflected from
afar.
Stationary waves in the earth mean
something more than mere telegraphy without wires to any distance. They
will enable us to attain many important specific results impossible otherwise.
For instance, by their use we may produce at will, from a sending-station,
an electrical effect in any particular region of the globe; we may determine
the relative position or course of a moving object, such as a vessel at
sea, the distance traversed by the same, or its speed; or we may send over
the earth a wave of electricity traveling at any rate we desire, from the
pace of a turtle up to lightning speed.
With these developments we have every
reason to anticipate that in a time not very distant most telegraphic messages
across the oceans will be transmitted without cables. For short distances
we need a "wireless" telephone, which requires no expert operators. The
greater the spaces to be bridged, the more rational becomes communication
without wires. The cable is not only an easily damaged and costly instrument,
but it limits us in the speed of transmission by reason of a certain electrical
property inseparable from its construction. A properly designed plant for
effecting communication without wires ought to have many times the working
capacity of a cable, while it will involve incomparably less expense. Not
a long time will pass, I believe, before communication by cable will become
obsolete, for not only will signaling by this new method be quicker and
cheaper, but also much safer. By using some new means for isolating the
messages which I have contrived, an almost perfect privacy can be secured.
I have observed the above effects so
far only up to a limited distance of about six hundred miles, but inasmuch
as there is virtually no limit to the power of the vibrations producible
with such an oscillator, I feel quite confident of the success of such
a plant for effecting transoceanic communication. Nor is this all. My measurements
and calculations have shown that it is perfectly practicable to produce
on our globe, by the use of these principles, an electrical movement of
such magnitude that, without the slightest doubt, its effect will be perceptible
on some of our nearer planets, as Venus and Mars. Thus from mere possibility
interplanetary communication has entered the stage of probability. In fact,
that we can produce a distinct effect on one of these planets in this novel
manner, namely, by disturbing the electrical condition of the earth, is
beyond any doubt. This way of effecting such communication is, however,
essentially different from all others which have so far been proposed by
scientific men. In all the previous instances only a minute fraction of
the total energy reaching the planet-as much as it would be possible to
concentrate in a reflector-could be utilized by the supposed observer in
his instrument. But by the means I have developed he would be enabled to
concentrate the larger portion of the entire energy transmitted to the
planet in his instrument, and the chances of affecting the latter are thereby
increased many millionfold.
Besides machinery for producing vibrations
of the required power, we must have delicate means capable of revealing
the effects of feeble influences exerted upon the earth. For such purposes,
too, I have perfected new methods. By their use we shall likewise be able,
among other things, to detect at considerable distance the presence of
an iceberg or other object at sea. By their use, also, I have discovered
some terrestrial phenomena still unexplained. That we can send a message
to a planet is certain, that we can get an answer is probable: man is not
the only being in the Infinite gifted with a mind.
TRANSMISSION OF ELECTRICAL ENERGY TO
ANY DISTANCE WITHOUT WIRES-NOW PRACTICABLE-THE BEST MEANS OF INCREASING
THE FORCE ACCELERATING THE HUMAN MASS.
The most valuable observation made
in the course of these investigations was the extraordinary behavior of
the atmosphere toward electric impulses of excessive electromotive force.
The experiments showed that the air at the ordinary pressure became distinctly
conducting, and this opened up the wonderful prospect of transmitting large
amounts of electrical energy for industrial purposes to great distances
without wires, a possibility which, up to that time, was thought of only
as a scientific dream. Further investigation revealed the important fact
that the conductivity imparted to the air by these electrical impulses
of many millions of volts increased very rapidly with the degree of rarefaction,
so that air strata at very moderate altitudes, which are easily accessible,
offer, to all experimental evidence, a perfect conducting path, better
than a copper wire, for currents of this character.
Thus the discovery of these new properties
of the atmosphere not only opened up the possibility of transmitting, without
wires, energy in large amounts, but, what was still more significant, it
afforded the certitude that energy could be transmitted in this manner
economically. In this new system it matters little-in fact, almost nothing-whether
the transmission is effected at a distance of a few miles or of a few thousand
miles.
While I have not, as yet, actually
effected a transmission of a considerable amount of energy, such as would
be of industrial importance, to a great distance by this new method, I
have operated several model plants under exactly the same conditions which
will exist in a large plant of this kind, and the practicability of the
system is thoroughly demonstrated. The experiments have shown conclusively
that, with two terminals maintained at an elevation of not more than thirty
thousand to thirty-five thousand feet above sea-level, and with an electrical
pressure of fifteen to twenty million volts, the energy of thousands of
horse-power can be transmitted over distances which may be hundreds and,
if necessary, thousands of miles. I am hopeful, however, that I may be
able to reduce very considerably the elevation of the terminals now required,
and with this object I am following up an idea which promises such a realization.
There is, of course, a popular prejudice against using an electrical pressure
of millions of volts, which may cause sparks to fly at distances of hundreds
of feet, but, paradoxical as it may seem, the system, as I have described
it in a technical publication, offers greater personal safety than most
of the ordinary distribution circuits now used in the cities. This is,
in a measure, borne out by the fact that, although I have carried on such
experiments for a number of years, no injury has been sustained either
by me or any of my assistants.
But to enable a practical introduction
of the system, a number of essential requirements are still to be fulfilled.
It is not enough to develop appliances by means of which such a transmission
can be effected. The machinery must be such as to allow the transformation
and transmission, of electrical energy under highly economic and practical
conditions. Furthermore, an inducement must be offered to those who are
engaged in the industrial exploitation of natural sources of power, as
waterfalls, by guaranteeing greater returns on the capital invested than
they can secure by local development of the property.
From that moment when it was observed
that, contrary to the established opinion, low and easily accessible strata
of the atmosphere are capable of conducting electricity, the transmission
of electrical energy without wires has become a rational task of the engineer,
and one surpassing all others in importance. Its practical consummation
would mean that energy would be available for the uses of man at any point
of the globe, not in small amounts such as might be derived from the ambient
medium by suitable machinery, but in quantities virtually unlimited, from
waterfalls. Export of power would then become the chief source of income
for many happily situated countries, as the United States, Canada, Central
and South America, Switzerland, and Sweden. Men could settle down everywhere,
fertilize and irrigate the soil with little effort, and convert barren
deserts into gardens, and thus the entire globe could be transformed and
made a fitter abode for mankind. It is highly probable that if there are
intelligent beings on Mars they have long ago realized this very idea,
which would explain the changes on its surface noted by astronomers. The
atmosphere on that planet, being of considerably smaller density than that
of the earth, would make the task much more easy.
It is probable that we shall soon have
a self-acting heat-engine capable of deriving moderate amounts of energy
from the ambient medium. There is also a possibility-though a small one-that
we may obtain electrical energy direct from the sun. This might be the
case if the Maxwellian theory is true, according to which electrical vibrations
of all rates should emanate from the sun. I am still investigating this
subject. Sir William Crookes has shown in his beautiful invention known
as the "radiometer" that rays may produce by impact a mechanical effect,
and this may lead to some important revelation as to the utilization of
the sun's rays in novel ways. Other sources of energy may be opened up,
and new methods of deriving energy from the sun discovered, but none of
these or similar achievements would equal in importance the transmission
of power to any distance through the medium. I can conceive of no technical
advance which would tend to unite the various elements of humanity more
effectively than this one, or of one which would more add to and more economize
human energy. It would be the best means of increasing the force accelerating
the human mass. The mere moral influence of such a radical departure would
be incalculable. On the other hand if at any point of the globe energy
can be obtained in limited quantities from the ambient medium by means
of a self-acting heat-engine or otherwise, the conditions will remain the
same as before. Human performance will be increased, but men will remain
strangers as they were.
I anticipate that any, unprepared for
these results, which, through long familiarity, appear to me simple and
obvious, will consider them still far from practical application. Such
reserve, and even opposition, of some is as useful a quality and as necessary
an element in human progress as the quick receptivity and enthusiasm of
others. Thus, a mass which resists the force at first, once set in movement,
adds to the energy. The scientific man does not aim at an immediate result.
He does not expect that his advanced ideas will be readily taken up. His
work is like that of the planter-for the future. His duty is to lay the
foundation for those who are to come, and point the way. He lives and labors
and hopes with the poet who says:
Schaff' das Tagwerk meiner Hände,
Hohes Glück, dass ich's vollende!
Lass, o lass mich nicht ermatten!
Nein, es sind nicht leere Träume:
Jetzt nur Stangen, diese Bäume
Geben einst noch Frucht und Schatten.
[1]
1 Daily work-my hands' employment,
To complete is pure enjoyment!
Let, oh, let me never falter!
No! there is no empty dreaming:
Lo! these trees, but bare poles seeming,
Yet will yield both food and shelter!
Goethe's "Hope"
Translated by William Gibson, Com.
U. S. N. |
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