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Owen and Old Jack.—P. 14.
THE STORY
OF THE
PEASANT-BOY PHILOSOPHER:
OR,
“A CHILD GATHERING PEBBLES ON
THE SEA-SHORE.â€
BY
HENRY MAYHEW,
AUTHOR OF THE “WONDERS OF SCIENOE,â€
LONDON :
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,
THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE.
NEW YORK: 416, BROOME STREET.
LONDON !
BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
LITTLE ATHOL,
IN THE HOPE THAT IN AFTER YEARS IT MAY BE THE
SOURCE OF SOME KNOWLEDGE AND
HAPPINESS TO HIM,
AND INSPIRE HIM WITH A TASTE FOR THE STUDIES OP
WHICH IT TREATS
Ghis ork is Hedicater,
BY HIS FATHER.
PREFACE.
SOC
Tus book, though fownded on the early life of
Ferguson, makes no attempt at re-presenting either
the circumstances or scenery amid which the
“Shepherd boy†passed his youth. To have done
this, would have been to have written a biography
of the young astronomer, in which the character
and incidents must have been literally followed.
Such a work faithfully executed would doubtlessly
have been sufficiently interesting and instructive,
but it would have involved a more intimate know-
ledge of the facts of Ferguson’s boyhood than the
materials left us could possibly have supplied.
Moreover, the object of the author was not so
strictly to teach, as to create in youth a éaste for
learning—it was to appetize rather than to “cram,â€
—to excite a craving that would stir the young
mind to seek its own food, instead of accustoming
it to be, as it were, “stall fed.†=
_ Tt has long appeared to the author of the present
vi -PEUFACE.
work that the prevailing system of education in-
duces merely the same state of obesity intellect-
ually, as the modern bucolic mode of feeding does
physically—those who win the prizes at our Univer-
sities being generally as remarkable for the enor-
mous capacity and inactivity of their minds as the
competitors at Baker-street are for those of their
bodies; the one gorged with learning, the other
with oil cake, but each alike ponderous and power-
less, and both having little or no health or vigour
in them.
The entire art of teaching lies in the excitation
of attention to the subject to be taught; but there
are two distinct kinds of attention, and according
as one or the other of these is appealed to, so does
the mind become vigorous or enervated. We can
attend to a subject either passively or actively. In
the former case, the mind is put into a state of
dream, by the excitement of some vivid emotion, or
“interest†as it is called, in connexion with a cer-
tain subject, and is so thrown into a disposition to
receive such ideas and facts as one may wish to im-
press upon it. This constitutes, so to speak, the
dramatic art of teaching, and the power of the
novelist and the playwright often affords us striking
instances of it; for, by such means, hundreds of
diverse minds and natures are frequently held
enchained as it were, for several hours, to the same
subject, and the trains of thought made to flow on
PREFACE Vil
continuously, in one and the same direction, among
& number of different individuals.
Bishop Butler (in his “Sermons on Human Na-
tureâ€), and many others after him, have long since
remarked, and speculated as to the causes, concern-
ing the ill effects which arise from an inordinate habit
of indulging in what is termed sentimental literature,
The philosophic preacher at the “ Rolls Chapel†refers
the injury done to the mind by continually reading
romances and “love stories,†to a breach of the
moral law which connects the exercise of charity
with the excitation of a feeling sympathy in our
natures. ‘The author of the present work, however,
believes the harm done in such cases proceeds more
irom an intellectual defect than a moral one—viz.,
by Inducing a habit of mere passive attention, or,
in other words, encouraging a state of constant
creaming, and thus incapacitating the mind for the
loast exertion on its own part; so that the intel-
lectual faculties become et length enervated and
sickly (for such is the invariable effect of a want of
exercise—mentally as well as corporeally), and when
the individual has to study any subject that requires
some effort in order to be comprehended, the sense
of labour involved in the task is either so repulsive
that he shuns it altogether, or else, in attempting it,
ne is overpowered by fatigue after two or three
moments of continuous attention. |
The faculty of passive attention is that of mere
Vill PREFACE.
receptivity — or acquisitiveness, aS contradistin-
guished from that of inquisitiveness; and such is
the capacity of some minds in this respect, that they
may be crammed with any amount of knowledge,
though, after all, they will be learned rather than
wise, lacking the power to apply their information
with any profit to themselves or others, and being
only intellectually corpulent instead of intellectually
strong, | -
The faculty of active attention, however, gives
widely different results. It is this faculty which
distinguishes our dreaming from our waking mo-
ments. In sleep, the mind can only follow the train
of fancies induced in it—for it has not the power to
guide or stop them,—so that no person reproaches
himself: for his impulses or thoughts at such times.
When we are awake, on the contrary, we are con-
scious of the ability to direct the current of our ideas
as we choose ; we know we can single out, from the
crowd, of conceptions that are continually hurrying
through our brain, any one that pleases us,—that
we can detain it while we examine its several rela-
tions, and that we can induce a long train of other
conceptions in connexion with it. In a word, we
are.aware that in our waking moments we can be
the masters of our natures, rather than the slaves of
them, as we are forced to be while dreaming. -To
doubt the existence of the faculty of active atten-
tion, would be to doubt our own consciousness ; for
PREFACE. ix
we feel, when we read a difficult problem in Euclid,
that each step requires a severe mental effort to
prevent our thoughts rambling from the reasoning,
and of this effort we have the same sense,—there
being the same feeling of fatigue connected with it,
when long protracted,—as when we voluntarily
exert our muscular strength.
Now the misfortune is, that the sense of mental
effort connected with the exercise of active attention
is often so irksome to naturally weak or young
minds, (for the faculty does not appear to be
developed till the. age of fifteen years), that the
study of such matters as require the intellect to be
exerted for their comprehension, becomes uninviting
and tiresome to the student. So beautifully, how-
ever, is the mental machinery arranged, that this
feeling of tiresomeness is only experienced at the
first exertion of the faculty; for after a time, the
wonderful mental principle of habit comes into play,
by which, acts that were originally irksome, become,
by the frequent and regular repetition of them, not
only pleasant to us, but positively irksome if not in-
dulged in. Hence the educational problem is, how
is a habit of active attention to be engendered in
the mind; or rather, how can the feeling of irksome-
ness which ensues on the first exertion of the
intellect. be so far removed that the youth may not,
by the dread of the labour, be repelled from the
study of those subjects, the comprehension of which
x , PREFACE.
is not alone necessary for the expansion of the mental
faculties, but a source of much refined pleasure, as
well as being likely to prove of considerable benefit
to the student, and perhaps to menkind in general.
There are several ways of attaining this end.
Those generally practised are of an artificial cha-
racter, and consist in attaching either some extrinsic
reward or punishment to the performance or non-
performance of the task. The natural and intrinsic
method, however, appears to be by tar the most easy
and sure. This consists in exciting the taste of the
youth towards the subject to which the attention is
required to be given. By a taste for a particular
pursuit, we mean solely a permanent desire to attend
continuously to the same subject; so that the tastes
of an individual are, as it were, the mental forces
that move and direct the current of his thoughts
into a particular channel.
Lo create a taste for a certain pursuit, it seems to
be essential that the individual should be made to
experience a vivid sense of pleasure in connexion
with it. Sometimes this pleasure appears to be due
to some delicate organic arrangement, as in persons
having a natural “turn,†as it is termed, for music.
It often, however, proceeds from the excitation of
the feeling of wonder and admiration in the mind.
‘Such was the case with the boy Ferguson, on seeing
his father raise the roof of his cottage by means of
a lever. This was the cause of that taste for
PREFACE. XL:
mechanics which marked “the Shepherd’s†whole
life. So again with Chatterton, who, we are told,
could not be made to learn his letters till the iliu-
minated characters of an old manuscript had taken:
his fancy, and excited that taste for ancient litera-
ture which never left him in after years. Many
other such instances might be cited to show that the
excitation of a vivid feeling of delight in connexion
with a particular subject, has shaped the thoughts
for an entire existence.
Taste is indeed always self-educational; once
developed, the trouble of tuition is saved us, for
then the mind is bent on acquiring the knowledge
for itself, instead of having to be crammed with it
py others. Moreover, the analysis of our own
emotions teaches us that the feeling of curiosity,
or the desire for knowledge in connexion with any
subject, 1s but the consequence of that state of per-
plexity or mental uneasiness which arises in the
mind whenever anything strange or wonderful has
been brought under our notice, and we are unable
to divine either the cause or the nature of it. This
feeling of curiosity—the craving for information,
which thus comes upon us,—may be but of short
curation, but, on the other hand, the emotion of
beauty (if associated with the wonderment) tends to
give considerable permanence to the desire. Admi-
ration necessarily causes the mind to dwell upon the
object exciting it—the natural tendency of the
Xu PREFACE,
emotion being to detain the thoughts and fix the
attention to one peint, so that the entire train of
ideas which rises afterwards is governed by it, and
everything that subsequently forces itself on the
notice, serves only to suggest some conception in
connexion with that which originally induced the
feeling.
The excitement of the taste, then, is not only the
first and easiest, but it is likewise the most natural
and enduring guide tv knowledge. To excite a
taste in youths for natural science, by means of the
feelings of wonder and admiration, is the main
object of the present book. I+ has not been a work
lightly undertaken or arranged without delibera-
tion; and the author while seeking to impress boys
after leaving school with a love of natural philo-
sophy, has striven to impress them also with a
sense of some of the higher truths that lie beyond
the province of mere “physics.†Asan instance, he
would direct attention to the chapter entitled “The
First and Last Law,†observing, that the arguments
there employed concerning the eternal duration of
the spiritual force, are, to the best of the writer's
belief. so employed for the first time. |
HY, WM
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I,
PAGE
THE First GuzamM or ltcuHt . sk ew ew lw - - (dl.
CHAPTER II,
Tar Boy-PHILosopHER’s First EXPERIMENTS. . . . 2
CHAPTER III.
"''ae Boy visits THE Minister. — WHAT CoMES of
THROWING STONES . . «6 © © «© «© « «© « « 66
CHAPTER IY.
Tue Boy TRIES TO MAKE A CLOCK, AND HAS A TALK
WITH THE MASTER OF THE MILL aBout CLOCK-
WORK ° e . , e e e e e e e e e e e 109
CHAPTER V.
OWEN’s DIAL e e ° ° ¢ ¢ ° Co . 148
X1V CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VI.
PAGH
Tue Boyv-Mrcuayto MAKES A WATCH, AND THE Boy-
BLACKSMITH BREAKS IT . . . 6 «© «© « « e Lil
OSTIAPTER Vil.
How tus Parson’s DAUGHTERS TURNED THE HEART OF
THE LLUNAWAY @ e : oe e e e eo 6 e oe . e e 197
CHAPTER Viil.
Tan Boy HAS A TALK WITH THE Oxup SAILOR ABOUT
THE ‘6 Log? e e e e e e e ° e e e e e 213
CHAPTER IX.
Tur Boy LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE AND MEA-
SURE THE SIZE GF THE HARTH . . ww ew we ew Q4R
CHAPTER X,
THe Bory AND HIS ORANGE WorLD . . .. . . « 269
CHAPTER XI.
How Prophe TRAVEL WHERE THERE ARE NO ROADS, FIND
THEIR WAY WHERE THERE ARE NO SIGN-POSTS, AND
KNOW HOW FAR THEY HAVE JOURNEYED WHERE THERE
ARB NO MILE-stonES . . . 1 1 we ew ew SDM
_ CONTENTS, XV
CHAPTER XII.
PAGE
TRAVELLING AT THE RATE oF A THOUSAND MIuzs an
Hour ce thle elle le le le lt lw le ORG
CHAPTER XII.
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS oe we whl tlw BHY
CHAPTER XIV.
THe Boy TAKES HIS STAR-PAPERS TO THE Opp OLD
SQUIRE AT THE OBSERVATORY ...... . 408
CHAPTER XV.
THe Moprern JAcos’s LADDER © 8 © we wl wl lw AZ]
CHAPTER XVL
“SSTAR-DUST†. 2 1 6 ww ew tl lw lw ew lw wg 44
CHAPTER XVII,
Taz Monster-Eyze . . . 6 «6 0 0 « et ee . 460
CHAPTER XVIII.
Tax Boy noses His pest FRIpND . . . . « e 4 AGT
XVl CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XIX.
PAGE
THe First anp Last Law . . « 6 « © «© « « 42
CHAPTER XX,
ConcLuriog og gw to we lg tl lt lt elke lw lw 482
THE STORY
OF THE
PEASANT-BOY PHILOSOPHER.
CHAPTER IL
THE FIRST GLEAM CF LIGHT.
It was a busy day at Davy Evans's. Little Owen
—the younger of his two sons—was up betimes, for
he had heard his father say that he meant to lift the
roof of his cottage that morning, and the boy had
been wondering half the night through how such a
feat were possible.
His father—the lad had thought to himself, a
he lay i in his bed, with his eyes fixed on the stars
that twinkled through the lattice —his father was
not a young man; he'd been grey as long as he
could remember him. Nor was he near so strong
as Job Jarman, the blacksmith; and not even he—
no, nor ten like him—could raise the thatch ct
3
x THE SHEPHERD-BOY PHILOSOPHER.
their cottage “the least scrapâ€â€”-Owen was sure ot
that! |
Often—mused the thoughtful boy in the depth
of the night (it was long past midnight, he knew, for
he had heard the heavy: wagon go rumbling along
the road on its way to town)—often, when he had
been up among the rafters watching the martins fly
in and out to feed their young, had he noticed that
the beams were as thick as his body; besides, there
was such a number of them running lengthways and
sideways under the thatch, so that how could his
father ever lift them all ?
Why, sometimes—so ran the current of his wake-
ful dreams—he had carried his father’s dinner for
him to the spruce plantation, when he had gone
there to fell some of the tall trees for the squire,
and the two of them together had been forced
to use a handspike to move even the smallest of the
trunks along the ground.
“ How, then,†Owen would ask himself again and
again, “can it be possible for father to lift the trunks
of so many trees as there are in the rafters of our
cottage ?†)
But, though Owen kept on doubting, half the
night through, the ability of his parent to execute
the task he had set himself, the idea of doubting
that his father intended to try and do as he had said
never for a moment entered the lad’s brain.
Owen had never in his life thought of questioning
THE FIRST GLEAM OF LIGHT. 3
hus parent’s word, for he was instinct with that con-
fiding faith which is one of the marked charac-
teristics of the young. Indeed, Davy Evans had
taken especial pains to impart in the minds of all
his children, from their earliest age, a high reverence
for truth. It was one of the honest man’s chief
delights to point out to his lads how all men—even
the wisest—knew more things by faith than they
could ever acquire for themselves by experience.
“Suppose,†he would argue to his boys, “that we
had doubted all men’s words, what a world of mis-
trust and suspicion it would have been, and how
little progress could we have madein anything. The
greater part of our lives then would have been
taken up in procuring evidence of the truth of
what was said to us. Why,†he would say, “we
should have had to travel over the whole world
before we could have put trust even in a simple
book upon geography. We should have had to
visit every foreign land before we could have credited
its existence. But now, by the principle of faith, .
we sit at home by our fireside, and by our reliance
on the words of others have the same assurance
of the reality of countries thousands of miles away
from us as if we had visited them ourselves.â€
“Think,†he would add, “of the vast amount of
faith that is exercised by people in the reading of an
ordinary newspaper. What a multiplicity of events
are there recorded. Why, to credit the history of'a
B 2
er
4 THE SHEPHERD-BOY PHILOSOPIIER.
single week, or even a day, now, requires as real. a
stretch of belief as does the history of past centurins,
So true is it that man depends more upon faith for
the cultivation of his intellect and affections, than
perhaps upon any other principle of his nature.â€
“ Now, faith,†Davy Evans would conclude, “de-
pends upon truth-speaking. Had all men, or even
the greater number of men, indulged habitually in
falsity, we should have been as generally distrustful
as we are now confiding. He, therefore, who tells a
lie attempts to undermine this principle of trust in
men’s words, and so to deprive us of a means of
xnowledge and a source of happiness without which
we should be worse than savages.â€
Davy Evans was a man essentially of good com-
mon-sense; indeed, he had no other guide in all he
did or said, for such faculties as he possessed had
never received the least development from the educa-
tion of others. All he knew he had taught himself.
Davy was precisely one of those minds which
are termed ingenious. He could do almost any-
thing for himself. Though a mere day-labourer,
he was a bit of a blacksmith—a tolerable carpenter
*—and sufficient of a mason to build a rough gar-
den-wall, or a cow-house for his neighbours. He
could cobble his own boots, and mend his donkey’s
harness, and use the needle well enough to patch
his own clothes. He could solder a bit too, (the
saucepans, the tea-kettle, and the bright tins over
THE FIRST GLEAM OF LIGHT. 5
the mantelpiece, all bore evidence of his handiwork) ; ~
and he had fitted up an old turning-lathe in a shed
he had built beside the pig-sty, where he delighted
to fashion tobacco-stoppers for his friends, and
nine-pins and wooden dolls for the little ones in
the village.
There was scarcely a trade, indeed, to which
Davy could not turn his hand. To be sure, he
excelled in none; but that was hardly to be won-
dered at; and, to say the truth, though Davy’s
mind was sufficiently quick to acquire a slight
knowledge of almost anything, it was not suffi-
clently patient and persevering to arrive at perfec-
tion in any one subject or handicraft whatever.
Had it been otherwise, Davy would have been
a great man rather than a clever one.
The best friend Davy had met wth was Mr.
Wynn, the minister of the little parish of Llan-
vach. From this gentleman Davy had the loan
of all the books with which he had made himself
acquainted. The living of Llanvach, however, was
not sufficiently lucrative to admit of its minister’s
library being very extensive. But luckily for
Davy, it contained, among a very few books of
a secular character, an old copy of Rees’ Cyclo-
pedia; this, giving as it did a short though
wntiquated account of almost every point of know-
ledge, exactly suited the inquisitive mind of Davy
ivans ; and thus the self-taught day-labourer had,
6 THE SHEPHERD-BOY PHILOSOPHER,
in his leisure, informed himself with what is termed
a “smattering†of facts on an infinite variety of
subjects.
Owen had such confidence in Davy Evans’ powers,
that, boy like, he thought his father could do almost
anything. He had stood beside him at the lathe
for hours, and with his eyes riveted to the mandril,
watched him turn the ugliest and roughest pieces
of wood into the most beautiful forms. He had
blown the bellows of the blacksmith’s forge for his
father when he had got leave to use it for an hour
or two after his day’s work was over, and he had
seen him with the sparks playing about him like
a fountain of fire, fashion a pair of shoes for old
Jack (their donkey), out of some rusty, broken door-
bolt. He had sat on a stool at his father’s feet,
and looked up at him all the while he mended the
bellows of some toy poodle-dog he had to make bark
again, or repaired some pasteboard tumbler, worked
by sand, for the little Squire Williams, on the other
side of the river.
These, and a hundred other such instances of
skill, together with the character Davy had
throughout the village of being the handiest man
for miles round, had impressed the lad with a
notion that his father was sufficiently clever to
accomplish anything he chose to undertake.
“Your father ain’t so clever as mine,†he would
say to the other boys of the village, as they
THE FIRST GLEAM OF LIGHT. 7
stood in a cluster looking over the little bridge
beside the water-mill, bragging of the deeds of
their several families.
There was, therefore, no reason for Owen to
doubt Davy’s lifting the roof, save and except that
he couldn’t understand it; and it was simply
because the boy was inwardly convinced that his
father would lift it, and because he couldn’t, for
the life of him, comprehend by what means he
was to do so, that the lad had been tossing about
in his bed half the night through, cudgelling his
brains in the vain hope of discovering the process
by which the wonderful feat was to be achieved.
Well, as we have said, Owen was up betimes.
There was not a creature to be seen abroad, as the
boy thrust back the iron-frame of his little lattice,
and stretching out his neck, looked up and down
the straggling double row of cottages beside the
river Wye, that made up the little village of Llan-
vach. Not a living thing was to be seen save “ old
Jack,†the donkey, posted beside the doorway, with —
his head hanging down almost to his knees, waiting
patiently for the bit of bread that was always
handed out to him at breakfast-time; and as the
knowing brute heard the metal frame jingle while
Owen hooked it back, he raised his head and ears,
and saluted the boy with a bray of delight.
Owen knew it was early, for though he thrust his
8 TIE SHEPHERD-BOY PHILOSOPHER.
head far out and put his hand beside his ears, he
could not catch the sound of the throbbing of the
neighbouring clothier’s water-wheel. All he could
hear was the hum of the distant falls of the river,
which -was still pinky with the first rays of the
morning sun, and steaming with the mists that went
winding round the base of the opposite mountain,
and floating wavily upwards, like a thin white
scarf, in the breeze. Then, as he cast his eyes aloft
to the peak of “Garth,†as it was called, he beheld
its verdant sides glitter on the higher rays of the
sun, green and golden, like a peacock’s back.
Presently the boy darted off to the window at
the other end of the room, and as he peeped out
towards the common that sloped high up behind the
house, he knew by the round black clouds of smoke
that came rolling thick and fast from the chimney
of the blacksmith’s forge, that young Jarman was
stirring; so, seizing his cap, he hurried down stairs,
with his boots in his hand, lest he should disturb
his father before the time of rising.
As the lad undid the fastenings, and drew back
the upper half of the little parlour door that opened
into the road, the donkey, roused once more by the
grating of the bolts, thrust his head over the hatch,
and stretching his neck as far as possible into the
tiny room, rubbed his soft velvety nose against the
cheeks of bis young master, whilst the boy was
busy, down on one knee, lacing his boots,
THE FIRST GLEAM OF LIGHT. g
But Owen’s mind was too full to notice the affec-'
tionate beast otherwise than by an instinctive pat or
two, so he stayed not to hug him and chatter to
him as was his wont, but hurried off towards the
blacksmith’s with old Jack capering playfully after
him, more like a huge dog than a creature with hoofs
to his heels.
It was not long before Owen had communicated
to the blacksmith’s boy the feat that was about to
be accomplished at their cottage that morning, but
young Jarman, who was the biggest of all the boys
in the village, and consequently a small oracle, as
wellas a bit of a despot among them, no sooner heard
the news than he turned on his heel and commenced
patting down the fire of the forge he had left to
listen to Owen’s tale. Presently, seizing the handle
of the bellows, he said, as he made the fire roar
again with his strokes, and the red hot coal-dust
spurt up like a miniature volcano, while the cheeks
of the boys and the beams and walls of the building
grew suddenly crimson with the glow,—“Oh, ah, }
dare say! your father’s so clever he can do any-
thing—you think he can! But he an’t half SO
strong as my father. Why, I’ve seed mine bend a4
poker across his arm, and lift that there hammer—
just you feel the weight of it now—up in his teeth.
And yet he’d never be such a silly as to go and try
and lift a roof.â€
Then suddenly the bent cow’s horn that served for
19 THE SHEPHERD-BOy PHILOSOPHER.
a handle to the lever of the bellows, flew upwards,
released from his hand, and the grimy boy seated
himself on the anvil and commenced swinging his
legs backwards and forwards as he looked knowingly
in Owen’s face. “Better come with us fishing,
Owey,†he exclaimed ; “ father knows where there's
such a jolly salmon—such a whopper—he says asa he
thinks it’s this year’s fish, He seed him yesterday
lying under a shelf of rocks, a goodish bit up above
the ferry. He's a going to make a spear, afore he
starts this morning, so that if the thing wont rise to
the fly, he'll have him that way anyhow. You'd
much better come now!†and then putting his legs
straight out, and rolling his long, dirty leathern
apron round his waist, the young blacksmith gave
himself two or three twists round on the bright
smooth top of the anvil.
“Oh, I say, Owen!†he cried, as he stopped short,
“if youll only come now, I'll show you such a
plummy blackbird’s nest, chock full of young uns,
and just ready to fly. It’s all on our way home,
and I don’t mind shinning up the tree to get it.
You shall go halves if you'll come with us,—there
now. I’ve had my eye on that there nest ever since
it was first built. The mother’s as big and black as
a crow. IfI hadn’t a shinned up the tree when I
watched her off the nest, and seed as she’d got four
eggs of her own, I should have picked her off a
long while since with my crossbow. Ah, an’t that a
THE FIRST GLEAM OF LIGHT. ll
beauty of a bow if you like; your father, Owen,
don’t make you such things as that, though he is so —
clever as you say. Oh, what do you think, Owen?â€
cried the rough-headed lad, as he began balancing the
heavy sledge hammer on the palm of his hand; “I
shot such a bouncing bat with my bow, in the dingle,
last night. You wait there, and Til run and fetch it
you.â€
Young Jarman jumped from the anvil, and coming
over to his little visitor (who stood, still leaning
against the door-post, with his cheek pillowed on his
palm), put his bare,smudgy arm round the boy’s neck,
as if to make friends with him—for he could see the
lad was vexed at the taunts he had uttered about his
father ; and he said, as he leant his head on Owen’s
shoulder and looked in his face, “ Youll come with
us, Owey, won't you now? Oh, it'll be so prime
with you there! Father’s going to take a lot of
bread and cheese and beer, and we're to have our
dinner on the rocks with some of the young chives
that’s just coming up there. Don’t you like ’em,
Owen? Don't [ just—that’s all!’ and the youthful
Jarman drew his breath in between his teeth, and rub-
bed his tawny hand up and down his leathern apron.
“Say you'll come, now, there’s a good old cock,â€
he continued, in a coaxing tone, as he patted Owen
on the cheek. “ And oh, Ill tell you what—there’s
some gipsies on the other side of the river, just past —
the ferry. Shouldn’t I like to be off with them for
12 THE SITEPHERD - LOY PHILOSOPHER.
a month. Or, I say, Owen, if yowd only go with
us, wouldn’t I cut right away to sea, that’s all. I
can’t abear this beastly life—a broiling over this
here filthy forge all day—and I won’t stand it
much longer, neither—not [.â€
During this speech, the young blacksmith had
-Instinctively picked up a piece of rusty iron, and, as
he came to the latter part of it, he vented his in-
dignation by jerking the heavy piece of metal at the
ribs of the donkey that stood waiting for his young
master at some little distance outside the forge.
This was more than poor Owen could bear. He
had long been burning with rage, the blood tingling
in his ears, and his hands and teeth clenched tight
with suppressed passion to hear his father sneered at
by the young blacksmith; but when he saw the
poor beast whom he loved with all the ardour of a
gentle-hearted youth for some pet animal, scamper
off, writhing with the pain of the heavy blow, he
lost all thought of the difference between the ages
of himself and young Jarman, and, seizing one of
the smaller hammers that lay on the ground at his
feet, he flew towards the tormentor of the patient
brute, half mad with fury and revenge, and eager to
deal on him a heavier blow than he had inflicted on
the unoffending animal.
Jarman no sooner saw Owen stoop to raise the
weapon than he fled round the shop, pursued by the
- boy; and round and round they ran, till Owen, tired
"Ts FIRST GLEAM OF LIGIT. 13
with the chase, and his passion half-spent in the
energy of his own exertions, flung the hammer
from him and darted from the place, saying, as he
shook his fist at the blacksmith’s boy, “ You shall
be sorry for this, still, John Jarman.â€
Owen hastened as fast as his remaining strength
could carry him to the top of the hill whither the
poor old Jack had fled, and there he found him,
striving to lick the blood that streamed from the
wound in his side.
The generous boy no sooner caught the poor brute
in his arms than he hugged him fondly to him, the
tears streaming the while from his eyes; and as
Jack lifted his head and rubbed it against his young
master’s cheeks, Owen vowed silently he’d so excel
young Jarman for the future, that in after life the
fellow should hear his praises sounded by every one.
“Some,†inwardly resolved the lad, “shall tell him
how clever I am; some shall talk to him of my
goodness. And oh! if I only could make my name
known all over the world the same as those great
men I’ve heard father read about—and many of them |
have been at first nothing but poor boys like me—
then go where he would he’d hear some one speak
well of me. Father says nobody knows what they
can do till they try. And I will try—yes, that I
will, Jack,†he said, talking to the donkey. “T'll
learn and learn, and then, if John Jarman’s bigger
than I am now, I shall one day be his master in
14 THE SHEPHERD-BOY PHILOSOPHER.
everything. Who knows but I may be a fine gen-
tleman, while he’s only a poor man still.â€*
The reverie of the youth was interrupted by the
struggles of old Jack to get his head back to the
wound in his side, for Owen had still his arms
clasped round the animal’s neck, and his head resting
on his mane. “Poor old thing,†he exclaimed ; “I
forgot you were in pain all this while. Come along
to the hedge-side,†he continued, talking to the
donkey as usual, as if he understood every word he
said. “We'll get some water there, old fellow, and
wash the wound nicely for you. Come along, Jack!
come !â€
When Owen had led the animal to the little
mountain stream, he knelt down on the logs that
served for a foot-bridge across it, and, stationing the
donkey by his side, commenced scooping up the
* The reader is referred to an incident of a similar kind to
the above in the life of Sir I. Newton :—‘‘ An accident, we
are told, first fired him to strive for distinction among his
companions at school. The boy who was immediately above
him in the class, after treating him with a tyranny hard to
bear, was cruel enough to kick him in the stomach with a
severity that caused great pain. Newton resolved to have his
revenge; but of such a kind as was natural to his reasoning
mind even at that early age. He determined to excel his
oppressor in his studies and lessons; and setting himself to the
task with zeal and diligence, he never halted in his course till
he had found his way to the top of the class.â€â€”Tuz BoyHoop
or Great Men,
THE FIRST GLEAM OF LIGHT. 15
- water in the palm of his hand, and bathing the
wound for the grateful brute, the lad chattering all
the while to him.
“There, isn’t that nice?†he said, “isn’t that nice,
old boy? What ashame to hurt a good, kind old
thing like you! Father often says you're more
knowing than a good many people in the world.
Ah, you're a cunning old rascal, Master Jack, that
you are! Who, when he goes to market, will only
go into town one way, so as to pass the chemist’s
shop, and get some peppermint-drops given to him ?
Never was there such a fellow for peppermint-drops
as you Jack! And aim’t you a knowing old thing
about breakfast-time? Why, when it’s pitch-dark
in the winter, and we're having our meal by candle-
light, afore father goes to work, you know when it’s
six o'clock, you do, you rogue! as well as if you had
got a silver watch round your neck, like young
Squire Williams, over at the Court, there. Then
youre so sly, you are, rubbing your old nose first
against the window panes, and then banging your
hoofs against the door, to let us know you’re outside.
Catch you going away without your couple of slices
of bread—and who likes treacle, you old rascal, eh?
Don’t you rub your head up and down me finely, if
I give you a bit? Oh, you’re a deep old gentleman,
you are, Jack! Why, I believe you'd know the
sound of father’s and my foot anywhere. Look when
father’s out late working, and we come down the
i6 THE SHEPHERD-BOY PHILOSOPHER.
common sometimes when it’s so pitch-dark you
can't see your hand afore you,—why, you're sure
to begin braying directly we cet to the chapel.
‘There's old Jack,’ father will say. Ah, and if you
only knew how glad I’ve been to hear your voice,
Jack, after being out all day with father, and a lons
trudge home across the mountains—with the rain
blowing in your face all the way, may-be, till it
made you smart again—yes, Jack, when I’ve heard
you begin braying then, I’ve thought you the nicest
and fondest old creature in all the world. I knew
I was close at home as soon as I caught sound of
you, and ain’t that beautiful, old boy, when youw’re
so tired you're ready to drop? Oh, you're a good,
dear old thing, and it’s a wicked shame for any one
to hurt you, it is. No wonder you won’t let John
Jarman ride you, when he’s so cruel to you. I don’t
think, if he was to beat you to death, you'd stir a
step with hom, Jack. No, you'll do nothing but roll
in the dust with him on your back, will you, old
fellow? Ah! you've got a precious spirit of your
own, you have, you rascal! Catch you being made
to do anything you don’t think right! But come,
Jack,†cried the boy, suddenly starting to his feet,
“they’H have done breakfast afore we get home.
Look, here’s the dandelion wide open, I declare, and
it must be six o'clock, at least, by that; for father
says it’s always time for a labouring man to be at
his work when the leaves of the dandelion are un-
THE FIRST GLEAM OF LIGHT. 17
folded, just the same as when there’s any of the _
yellow goat’s-beard near where he’s at work, he
always knows, by the closing of the flowers, when
it’s time to leave off and go to dinner.â€
Owen and his pet brute jogged along towards the
village, the boy with his arm still resting on Jack’s
neck, and talking to him kindly and fondly as he
went—now playfully speaking of his tricks—and
then promising him a large slice of bread-and-treacle
for his breakfast when they got to the cottage.
But scarcely were they half-way down the com-
mon, when Owen could see (as they turned the
7 angle of the road), by the crowd of children and
villagers clustered outside his father’s cottage, that
the work of raising the roof was about to begin.
The sight immediately revived all the lad’s
thoughts and wonderings of the previous night;
and he burried on, half forgetful, for the moment,
of the cruelty of the young blacksmith, or the sufe
ferings of the animal by his side.
Owen was too full of excitement to sit down
quietly to the breakfast that had been put aside for
him; so, having given the greater part of his bread
to old Jack, he darted out with the remainder in
his hand, and munched it as he stood in the crowd,
looking up, with wondering eyes, at the roof his
father was preparing to lift.
The cottage of Davy Evans had very little that
was peculiar or picturesque about it, excepting that
C
18 TILE SHEPHERD-BOY PHILOSOPHER.
it was much longer than it was high. Built close
against the road that sloped down towards the little
bridge in the middle of the street which constituted
the village, its walls were considerably higher at
one end than at the other. At each extremity was
a door (as if the building had originally formed
two dwellings); the one giving into the kitchen,
and the other opening immediately into the par-
lour; to enter the former, you had to descend some
few steps, and the latter, to ascend the same
number. Like the generality of Welsh cottages,
the walls were so ‘intensely white that the sun
shining upon them glistened as it does upon snow,
making the little diamond-shaped panes of the lat-
ticed window look even of a darker green, and more
like bottle-glass, than they were naturally. The
roof seemed out of harmony with the walls, which,
from their whiteness, appeared almost new; for the
thatch was worn and green in parts, with rain, and
all but black in others, with velvety patches of
moss; while the long line formed by the ridge of
the roof at the top bellied downwards as if its back
were broken.
Davy had deferred the repairs of this part of the
building from month to month, and, indeed, year
to year; for it was one of those matters that he
thought did not press, and admitted of being put
off, day after day, for more important work. But
the last March winds had shaken it fearfully; and
THE FIRST GLEAM OF LIGHT. 19
when the Wye had overflowed its banks, and laid
the whole village under water, and the family had
been forced to take refuge among the rafters, Davy
had discovered, while imprisoned there, that some
of the beams were as soft as rushes with the dry-
rot. Ever since that time he had slept in fear of the
roof giving way in the first storm, and smothering
them all, as they lay in their beds; so he had made
up his mind that the next spare day or two he had,
he would devote to the repairs of it.
| At first he.thought the whole of the rafters must
/ come down, but on a more minute examination he
| found that the beams at the base were alone un-
sound, so he determined to raise the entire mass
above and wedge it up, in order that he might be
able to insert some new beams beneath.
As we said, the whole of the little village ot
Llanvach was gathered outside the cottage, eager to
see the wonderful feat performed. There was Evan
Griffith of the “public,†and Jim Gam, the bow-
legged ostler ; and there was Toom Price, the preacher
of the shop, and all the little Prices, with pretty
Lyddy Powell, their servant girl (she had just run
out from her work, and had her linsey-wolsey skirt
still tucked in a bunch at her back); and Roger
Wilkins of the mill was there in his brown paper-
cap, with his tall wife in her large white dimity one;
and old Betty Watkin, the lame pauper, and Davy
c 2 | |
~0 THE SHEPHERD-BOY PHILOSOPHER.
Prichard, the labourer, from the common, with his
tools over his shoulder, ready to start on his way to
the fields; and Mr. Lloyd, the retired horse-dealer,
who lived in the large stone house at the end of the _
village, with his buxom daughter showing off the .
new parasol she had lately bought at the market town.
On the other side of the road, too, close against the
meadow, was old Captain Jones—his long, white
hair streaming over his shoulders—seated in his
Bath-chair, with the warm sun shining full upon
him, and his tidy housekeeper knitting stockings by
his side; and looking backward from the bridge
stood John Jarman, the blacksmith, with the :fish-
basket at his back and his long rod dangling over
his shoulder like a huge cart-whip, and his boy close
behind him carrying the salmon spear and the little
keg of beer, slung at his side—both on their way to
the ferry to take the “that year’s fish†the black-
smith had noted lying under the shelf of rocks, and
marked as his prey.
Yes, aif the little village was there, for Llanvach
numbered among its population none but the families
we have mentioned. Neither butcher nor baker
was to be found in the place; and even “Shoon, of
| the Falls,†who did the little tailoring the villagers
required, lived some five miles away, and eked out
his living partly by keeping hives and brewing
‘mead†from the honey (he was celebrated for it
half the country round), and partly by acting as
TIE FIRST GLEAM OF LIGHT, 21
“cunning man†to the simple folk of the neighbour-
hood, and guessing at the thief when any of their
little property happened to be missing.
In front of the rustic group might be seen
Davy Evans busy rolling a round clump of wood
before the walls of the cottage, and seated on the
long stout beam that lay on the pathway was little
Owen himself, with his head stretched back and his
eyes fixed on the roof, wondering what the clump his
father was rolling had to do with the lifting of the
thatch. And so rapt was the boy in his own
musings that Davy had to call to him some two or
three times, whenever he wanted him to fetch any
tool from the shed.
But Owen had not long to remain in suspense,
for the clump having been placed some short dis-
tance from the walls, the beam was soon “cantedâ€
on to the top of it so that one end was much longer
than the other, projecting far into the roadway.
Then the boy beheld his father mount the ladder
placed against the cottage, while his elder brother,
assisted by two or three of the stoutest villagers,
hoisted up against the wall an upright spar, the
upper end of which was placed underneath the
eaves, while the lower was made to rest on the
suorter arm of the beam.
Yet even now though Owen saw the beam poised
upon the clump, with the short end of it thrust un-
derneath the spar that reached to the edge of the
22 THE SHEPHERD-BOY PHILOSOPHER,
roof, and the long end protruding half across the
road, he could not, for the life of him, understand
how all these beams and spars could enable his
father to accomplish the object he had in view. To
him they seemed rather to increase the weight to be
raised than lighten it. _
But now camé the exciting moment! The little
crowd, with Owen amongst the number, were
driven back lest either of the beams should fail or the
walls give way and injure any of the group. Owen
however, all impatience, wriggled himself into the
foremost rank, and when he saw the ladder removed
he scarcely breathed, so great was his anxiety.
Presently his father advanced towards the ex-
treme end of the beam, and leaning across it, raised
his feet from the ground, so that the whole force of
his weight might be brought to bear upon it,
“ Does it move?†he cried.
All eyes were strained towards the roof, but none
could see the least motion in it.
Owen could have burst into tears as he heard the
people shout “No!†“No!†and he turned his head
towards the bridge to see if young Jarman still
stood looking on. But when the lad found the
blacksmith had gone, he smiled faintly, for he did
not so much care about the disappointment now
that Master John was not there to glory in it.
“Hugh! Hugh!†shouted the father, calling to
his elder son, and, as the stout lad came running
THE FIRST GLUAM OF LIGIIT. 23
towards him, he cried, “bear on, bear on! it wants
more weight.â€
Owen as he heard this, half laughed with delight
to find there was still a chance of his father succeed-
ing in his object after all.
Hugh no sooner threw his body on the beam, than
Owen shrieked—
“Tt’s moving! it’s moving!†and as he said so, the
boy, half mad with joy, jumped up and clapped his
hands, for he had caught a glimpse of a silver thread
of ight shining beneath the dark eaves.
“T knew I should be the first to see it rise if ever
it did so,†he inwardly exclaimed, as he swung his
arms about, and glanced round exultingly at all the
villagers as much as to say, “ Look how clever my
father is.â€
“Ti’s going, it’s going! Well done, Davy, boy!â€
cried the neighbours, one and all; and two or three
of the most enthusiastic threw their caps in the air.
“ Hurrah!†shouted some.
“ Hurra-a-ah!†echoed Owen, swelling the cheer,
on the chance that young Jarman might still be near
enough to catch it ; and, as he did so, he turned round
once more towards the bridge, hoping that he might
have been mistaken before, and that the blacksmith’s
boy might yet be there to witness the triumph.
“Here, Prichard, good lad,†cried Davy Evans,
as with his boy he weighed down the long arm of the
beam, “run you and slip yon prop under t’other end.â€
24 TIlE SHEPHERD BOY PHILOSOPHER.
It was but the work of a minute for the sturdy
labourer to do as Davy Evans had requested, and
the beam once secure in its position, the good man
removed his weight from it and hastened to wedge
the spar firmly up.
“There,†cried Davy, as he drew back and looked
oxultingly at his handiwork, “I call that a pretty
tidy job. It wont take long to get the new rafters
under the roof now, and then the old thing will be
as sound and strong as when it was first up.â€
“What do you think of that, lad ? he asked, as he
turned to Owen, and patted the delighted boy on
the head. “ You see it’s not so very difficult for a
man to lift a roof after all.â€
“Not for a man,†replied Owen, looking up at
his father as if to measure his height and strength.
“No! nor for a boy either, for the matter of
that,†replied Davy Evans.
“Could J have done it, father,†timidly inquired
the youth.
“'T'o be sure you could, Owen, if the other end of
the beam had only veen 1ong envugh.â€
The words sank deep into the little fellow’s soul;
he could think of nothing else, but that he, a child,
could lift a heavy mass like that he had just seen his
father raise.
“TZ could have done it!†murmured he, over and
over again to himself; “yes, father said so. J could
aro
THE FIRST GLEAM OF LIGIIT. 25
have done what he did—big man as he is—’f the
other end of the beam had only been long enough.â€
The thought took such possession of the boy’s
mind that he no longer saw the things around him,
and the crowd of neighbours, who still stood round
gossiping, in little groups, about the wonder, was all
aimist to him. He neither heard what they said,
nor felt them, as some pushed by him to join the
others.
“Tf the other end of the beam had only been
long enough,†he repeated to himself, as he strolled
pensively towards the meadow that led to the water-
side.
“ Hurrah!†shouted the villagers in one voice, as
they gave their last cheer at Davy’s handiwork,
before going to their labour.
The cry woke the boy from his reverie. As he
wandered through the meadow, and could see far
away up the river, he caught sight of the square
punt crossing the ferry, and he knew by the long
fishing-rod carried by one of the passengers, that
the blacksmith and his boy were in the boat.
“Young Jarman must have heard that, thank
goodness!†said Owen, full of glory; and as he
strayed along to the water's edge he kept his eyes
fixed on the ferry-boat until it reached the opposite
shore.
Then dismissing the blacksmith’s boy from his
26 THE SHEPHEI.D-BOY PHILOSOPHER.
mind and once more recalling his father's words,
Owen stretched himself at fulllength on the bank,
and, with his hands clasped on the crown of his head,
said over and over again, “J could have done it if
the other end of the beam had only been long
enough. What could father mean? What- difference
could that have made? Jf the other end of the beam
had only been long enough!â€
CHAPTER IL
THE BOY-PHILOSOPHERS FIRST EXPERIMENTS,
How small a spark will fire a train of thought in a
young mind!
The boy-poet, Chatterton, could not be made to
learn his letters until he happened one day to be
struck by the quaint-looking old English characters
on one of his mother’s thread-papers.
The genius of the illustrious mechanician, Vau-
canson, might, perhaps, have been lost to the world
had not his father confined him, when a lad, by way
of punishment, in a spare room; and the child
amused himself by pulling to pieces an old clock
that was in it.
And even the great Newton was, as has been
before stated, first incited to study by a feeling of
revenge that made him resolve to excel a senior boy
at school who had severely ill-treated him.
Thus it was with little Owen Evans! Had it not
veen for the wonder begotten in him by his father’s
28 THE BOY-PHILOSOPHER’S
raising the roof of their cottage, he might, perhaps,
have never troubled his brain concerning the laws of
motion. |
“What difference could it have made if the other
arm of the beam had been longer?†he asked him-
self. “ How could a yard or two, added to the end
of a log, have given me the force of a man and even
of a giant? What power has a foot or two of wood
to make me lift a weight more than enough to crush
me?â€
Such were the inquiries that crossed the boy’s
mind as he lay on his back, with his eyes fixed
vacantly on the clouds that flitted across the sky
like breath upon a mirror.
Presently he started to his feet, for a sudden
thought had struck him.
A short distance from where he lay stood a huge
block of stone—a lump of the adjacent rock, torn
off by the floods, carried down the stream, and de-
posited at the edge of the river.
Owen went towards it, and placing his hands
against the block, pushed with all his might to see
if he could move it. .
The effort was vain. The mass was as firm as if
it were set deep in the earth.
Then having satisfied himself that he had not
power even to shake it, much more to raise it, he
turned away, and began hunting among the trees
that grew by the water-side,
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 29
He did not wander far before he came to the
stump of an oak—the one, he remembered, Davy
Prichard had felled some days previously—and
round about it were strewn a heap of the smaller
branches.
' Selecting the stoutest and the strongest, he re-
turned with it to the heavy block of stone. _
“Now,†said the boy to himself, “we shall soon
see whether a foot or two of wood will give me
power to move a mass like this.â€
Owen worked the end of the branch far under
the lump of rock, and having rolled a heavy stone
towards it, rested the branch upon it as he had seen
his father do with the beam that morning; then
placing his hands at the further end of the branch
he bore down upon it with all his weight.
To the intense delight of the youth he beheld the
heavy block vibrate to and fro with each exertion
of his strength.
“Oh, most wonderful !†he cried, “that a mere
bit of wood should give me strength to move a
weight a-horse could scarcely stir.â€
“ Father said if the arm of the beam were longer
it would give more power still.†Musing thus, the
boy withdrew the branch as far as he possibly could
from beneath the rock, and allowed the end merely
to rest under the edge of it.
Then once more placing his hands at the further
80 THE BOY-PHILOSOPHER'S
extremity of the bough, he found that he could stir
the heavy mass as easily again. |
Owen’s mind was filled with astonishment, for
now he discovered he could move the solid mass even
with one hand; and his delight and wonder rose
higher and higher, as he beheld the immense block
lean over on its side more and more, in answer to his
pressure.
At length the lad grew so excited with the feat,
that exerting his whole force, he pressed the end of
the bough violently to the ground, and saw, to his
terror and amazement, the huge and heavy lump
topple over into the stream, making the water fly
high into the air as it did so; while the branch, sud-
denly released from the weight that held it, darted
from his hand and whirled upward with a power
that to Owen’s simple mind seemed something super-
natural.
Frightened almost out of his wits, the boy in-
stinctively fled from the spot ; and as he darted in
and out the trees, his bewildered imagination saw
in the shadows of the foliage playing on the ground,
a troop of figures hurrying at his heels.
But when he was once more in the broad day-
light of the open meadow, his fears soon left him,
and as he turned round and discovered that there
was nobody behind him, he laughed inwardly aa
ho thought how silly his alarm had been,
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. Sl
At first he felt inclined to return to the water-
side and repeat the experiment he had made. Then
he stood still for a minute, and asked himself “Where
was the good of that ?†He had satistied himself that
he had power to move a weight heavy enough to crush
him. No! he would go home and see what he
could find in the tool-shed that would help him to
understand something more about the strange dis-
covery he had made.
As he sauntered across the meadow, he specu-
lated as he went.
“What can there be in a mere beam that should
render me so much stronger than IT am, and why
should my force be made greater merely by making
one end of a log of wood longer than the other?
It’s very strange! It’s easier to break a long stick
than a short one; so I should have thought the
longer the end of the beam was made, the weaker it
would have been. But it isn’t so; or else I could
never have moved that stone. I'll find ié all out,
V’m determined! I wont say a word to father, Vl
do it every bit myself, and when I know all about
it, Pll make a machine that will lift anything—ay!
even a mountain, if I wish it. What will John
Jarman say to that, I should like to know? How
savage he'll be when he finds I can do more than he
can? Yes, I wont rest till I have done it;’ and
the boy walked quicker as the thought fired him.
“Won't father be pleased, too! Perhaps he'll
32 TILE BOY-PHILOSOPHER’S
think I’m clever enough to go out to work, and
then I shall be able to earn some pocket-money for
myself, like Hugh does. And young Jarman will
find that other boys can do something besides him-
self, I’m sure I don’t see anything so very grand
in being able to make the holes ih a horse-shoe.â€
Amusing himself thus by speculating—now upon
the delight he was to give his father, and then upon
the vexation he would cause the young blacksmith,
Owen reached the cottage, and making his way
quickly to the tool-shed at the back, he began rum-
maging among the many odd things stored there, to
discover what he could render subservient to his
purpose.
First he looked up at the roof, and cast his eyes
along the strange medley of old lumber that dangled
from the rafters—the donkey’s ragged collar, and
the battered horn-lanthorn, and the bill-hook. For
a moment he thought he would have that down,
but no! hanging close beside it, he caught sight of
the long-handled shears for clipping the hedges, and
these, he fancied, would do much better.
Owen was about to mount the little ladder, when
it struck him, as he stood on the first step, that he
might find something more suitable still. So he
went up another step or two, in order that he might
take a good survey of the roof, and then he glanced
from the spoutless kettles and leaky saucepans—that
hung there waiting to be mended—to the hen-
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 83
coop his father had made out of the old cradle, and
then to the mason’s square and plummet—and the
old flail—and the many-jointed broom Davy Evans
had contrived for sweeping the chimneys—and an
infinity of odds and ends besides. But none of
them seemed to suit the boy’s fancy.
Descending, therefore, from his perch, he began to
search in all the corners of the queer building.
First he took up the scythe that was stowed away
(its blade wrapped round with straw) against the
wall, Then he looked at the spades and pick-
axes, but not one was to his mind; so he turned
towards the rough carpenter’s bench, and began
playing with the loose handle of the large wooden
screw in front of it.
Suddenly a new notion seized him, and he darted
over to the discarded pigeon-house that was nailed
against the opposite wall, and now did duty as his
father’s tool-box. From one of the pigeon holes in
which the brads and screws were stored, he took a
long nail; then returning to the bench, he got the
hammer, that lay at one end of it, and drove the
nail tight into the wall before him; he had no
sooncr done this than he proceeded, by means of the
same instrument, to draw it out again.
As Owen held the end of the wooden handle, and
felt the nail gradually forced from its hold by the
iron claw that grasped it, he said to himself, “I
could not have pulled that nail out with my fingers,
D
34 THE BOY-PHILOSOPHER’S
The handle here, then, gives me the same power as
the branch did with the rock.â€
After this he tried to draw another nail that he
found driven into the bench; and now he placed
his hand at the other end of the handle, close
against the head, but then, strive as he would, he
could not stir it; so he slid his hand a few inches
higher up the shaft, and then found that, by using
all his strength, he could just loosen the nail.
Directly, however, he raised his hand to the far end,
he could remove it with the greatest ease.
“It’s every bit the same as with the beam,†he
cried; “the longer the handle, the greater the
strength it gives me,â€
Suddenly his eye lighted upon the treadle under-
neath the lathe, and throwing down the hammer, he
hastened towards it. He placed his foot close
against the rod that connected the treadle with the
axle above it, and pressing on the board, he easily
set the wheels in motion. Next, he drew his foot
backwards along the treadle, and found that he
could scarcely stir 1t, until at last when he trod
right at the end of the board, though he balanced
himself on one leg, so as to let the whole of his
weight bear upon it, it was impossible for him to
give the wheel the least motion.
“How strange!†the boy inwardly exclaimed.
*Tve seen father work at this lathe a hundred
- times, and I myself have made it spin round over
FIRST EXPERIMENTS, — 35
and over again, and yet I never noticed this bef re!
It’s all as father said, I can move anything, if the
beam is only long enough.â€
Owen paused for awhile, and then murmured ag
he mused again, “ Though it’s all the same—though
the power comes in the same way in every one of
these things, yet how different each one is from
the other.â€
Then he got a bit of chalk from one of the
pigeon-holes, and began to draw on the bench rude
outlines of the several instruments.
“Took!†he cried, still talking to himself, “the
hammer is like that—
Pe
emmy mee a eS fe ' a
wear co ST ituanataane dieu 29 *
“Theyre not a bit alike,†he exclaimed, as he
surveyed the rough sketches he had made. “They
ali turn on ditlerent points. See here!†he went
dp 2
36 TIIE BOY-PILILOSOPIIER’S
on, “the hammer turns on the head; and the long
arm,†he said, as he pointed to the line which indi-
cated the handle, “is not in the same direction as
the short arm ;†and he put his finger on the curved
end that stood for the claw ot the instrument.
“Now, the branch,†he proceeded, “turned on
the stone that I set close against the rock, and
the short and the long arms were both in the same
line.
“But the treadle, again, is different from either,
for it turns on the end, and has but one arm
instead of two. And yet they’re all alike still
the same thing holds good in every one of them—
for
the longer the beara the greater the strength.â€
Owen, however, was far from satisfied with the
knowledge he had gained. He saw that he was
not a whit nearer to the solution of the puzzle—
how comes it that the power depends on the length
of beam?
Seating himself upon the bench, he began think-
ing what means there were at hand to enable him
to clear up the mystery, swinging his legs back-
wards and forwards as he pondered over the matter.
Suddenly he sprang to the ground, for the pair
of scales that dangled against the opposite wall had
just caught his eye.
As he snatched them from the hook, he wendcred
how he could have been there so long without
seeing them. They were the very things he wanted
FIRST EXPERIMENTS, 37
all the while, he knew, and yet for the life on
him he couldn’t think of them. “Fle could clear it
all up now; yes, he could !—he felt he could !’—and
the boy half danced with delight.
Owen was so impatient to come at the result
that he would hardly give himself time to suspend
the balance from the rafters in the shed. Accord-
ingly, he had to mount the ladder some two or
three times before he could get the beam of the
scales to hang as he wished. First, the nail was
loose; next, the string was too short—then it was
all of a tangle.
At length, however, he grew more calm, and in a
few minutes the scale beam was properly suspended
from the roof. Then he placed in each of the
pans an equal weight, and he was delighted to see
that the one exactly balanced the other.
“Tt is just as it should be!†he exclaimed. “Of
course there can be no power gained when the
two sides of the beam are of equal lengths, as they
seem to be here.â€
To make sure of the fact, however, he took his
father’s foot-rule and measured the distance from
each extremity to the point on which the beam
turned as its centre.
“Tt is as I thought,†he ejaculated, “it’s just ten
inches on each side.â€
“ Now, then, Vil soon have it!†he chuckled, as
he leocened the scales from the strings, and laying
38 THE BOY-PHILOSOPHER 8
the beam down on the bench, drew, with the aid of
the foot-rule, a chalk line straight along 1t. This
he then marked off into inches, so that the beam
was scored with chalk somewhat after this fashion—
Having proceeded thus far, he lifted the beam
back to its former place, and tied the string round
it just at the first mark from the end, so that when
suspended from the rafter it hung all on one side,
thus—
Owen drew back a few paces to
have a good look at the balance,
and he stamped his foot on the
ground impatiently, as he beheld it
all askew, saying to himself the
while, “That will never do. I must
make it swing straight somehow.â€
Presently he remembered his:
father had a bag of shot. ‘Yes, he
knew where he had seen it; so he
skipped over to the pigeon-house,
and thrusting his hand into one
of the holes withdrew a small canvas
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 39
bag. As he did so a heavy shower of bullets that
he had dislodged from one of the corners fell
rattling about his feet.
“This is capital,†he cried, as he stooped to pick
them up; “they’re as good again as the ounce
weights, and will save me a lot of trouble.â€
It took some little time for Owen to balance
the scales by means of the shot. Having sus-
pended the bag from the upper end of the beam,
first 1b was too heavy—then it was too light—
and he had to tie it up and pull it down many
times; now taking some out, then putting a little
more in, until the impatient lad grew so fidgety
over the work that he could hardly stand still to
finish it.
At length, however, the balance was fairly poised,
and Owen—his fingers tingling with delight at the
certainty of the experiment he was about to make—
dropped one of the bullets into the scale-pan that
dangled from the longer arm.
“ Now then,†he exclaimed, as he beheld the scale
descend, “TI shall see how many bullets that one
will support.â€
Accordingly the enraptured boy proceeded to
throw first one bullet into the scale-pan, suspended
from the upper and shorter end of the beam.
“Ah,†he cried, as he rubbed his hands with
glee, “one doesn’t make the least difference, of course.
| I knew it would lift that quite easily.â€
40 TIE BOY-PIIILOSOPHER’S
Then he dropped another in—half timidly—for
he almost expected to perceive the upper scale-pan
sink bencath the increased weight, as he did so.
“No!†he said. “It doesn’t fall yet. It lifts
twice its weight, that’s certain ;†and the little fellow
jumped again for joy.
Next he drew another bullet from the pocket
where he had stored them, and slid it, as gently as
possible, down the side of the scale-pan, holding his
breath the while, for he made sure the balance
would turn this time.
But when he saw it remain steady as ever in tlie
air and that the one bullet supported three others, he -
clapped his hands again and again, and shouted, “I
only wish young Jarman could only see what I’ve
found out.â€
“Well, another must drive it down anyhow,†he
said, when his excitement had slightly abated, and
he was calm enough to proceed with the experiment.
“YT don’t so much care if it does, either,†he added,
as he let a fourth bullet fall into the scale.
“TY declare it’s as still as before,†he whispered
to himself; “TI do really believe it will take another
yet. Ay! that it will!†he continued, as he placed
his finger on the edge of the pan, to ascertain what
power it required to force the beam down. “ Yes,
and two more, I shouldn’t wonder.â€
Accordingly Owen dropped a fifth bullet in, and
finding the beam showed no tendency to descend,
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 41
he grew bold now that the first excitement of the
trial had passed, and tossed a sixth among the
rest.
“Well, I never saw such a thing! I do believe it’s
bewitched !†he ejaculated, as he flung one more into
the scale.
“That makes seven !†he murmured, as he tossed
his head in wonder at the fixedness of the beam.
“Well, you shall have another, old fellow, if you |
want it,†he said, laughing and talking to the balance,
“T've a lot more in my pocket here.â€
Still no effect was produced. The one bullet
supported the whole eight.
“Yes! and another still, if you like.
“ Ay, and another after that.â€
The beam, however, hung as slanting as ever,
with the pan holding the ten bullets poised high in
the air, while that with the one in it remained
far below.
“Oh! there must be something wrong! The
beam has stuck fast, I’m sure,†and so saying the
boy-experimentalist approached the scales, and once
more tried to force down the upper pan.
“No!†he tittered, as he found it yield to his
pressure. “There’s nothing the matter, it only
wants a lot more, that’s all,†and he rubbed his
hands with delight at the seeming incongruity of
the matter. “But that difficulty is soon got over,â€
so he threw another bullet into the upper pan.
4.2 TIE BOY-PHILOSOPHER’S
\??
he remarked,
“Twelve !†he counted, as another dropped from
his hand.
“Thirteen !
“ Fourteen !
“ Fifteen !â€
Owen paused once more, for he could hardly
credit what he saw. “If father had told me as
much, I really don’t think I should have believed
it,†the lad soliloquized. “ But there must be an end
to it shortly, so Pll put in two this time.
“There goes eleven, I beg to say
“Now, sir, that makes seventeen you've had!â€
he went on, still talking to the scales, while he threw
in the brace of bullets.
“And two more will be nineteen.†Another
couple were added to the number.
But scarcely had the second brace fallen from
his fingers than the upper pan descended beneath
the increased weight.
“T've put in too many,†shouted Owen, as he saw
the beam go down. “No! I haven’t,†he cried, when
he beheld it rise again, and continue vibrating less
and less each time.
“No !—no! no!†he half whispered, as he
watched the space through which it rose and fell
become gradually shorter and shorter, until at last,
when he saw the two pans equally balanced, Owen
danced and capered about, and threw his cap up in
the air, half wild with joy.
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 4:3
The excitement over, the boy returned to the
scales, and withdrew one bullet from the nineteen.
Io his astonishment, he beheld the one in the pan
suspended from the long end of the beam lift the
whole of the eighteen in the other.
Then he replaced the nineteenth bullet as gently
as possible, and finding that it brought the beam
back exactly to a balance, he took one of the small
shot he had emptied from the bag, and depositing
it in the pan with the one bullet, found to his in-
tense glee that the one, with the least weight added
to it, would raise the whole of the nineteen others.
“No wonder then,†he thought to himself, “that
the branch made me move the rock, for that was
much longer than the beam is here, and father said
the power depended on the length of the arm.â€
The idea no sooner struck him, than he set to
work to ascertain how much longer the one arm of
the scale-beam was than the other. Whereupon he
proceeded to count the chalk marks on either side of
the string by which the balance was suspended.
To his great joy, he discovered that there were
nineteen inches chalked on the long arm of the
beam, and only one on the short arm.
“Ah! now I see!†he ejaculated, “I see it all;
the one arm is nineteen times longer than the other,
and therefore it can lift a weight nineteen times
heavier than its own. Yes, it’s as plain as the
‘Garth’ yonder. There are nineteen inches on one
44: THE BOY-PHILOSOPHERS
side, and only one on the other; and there’s one
bullet in this pan, and nineteen in that.â€
He paused for a moment to consider, and then
returning to the scales, he said, “I'll soon see whe-
ther that’s the reason of it, for Ill hang the balance
from the second inch here ;†and as Owen said the
words, he proceeded to tie the string tight round
the second chalk mark from the end.
When he had done this he paced up and down
the shed, muttering to himself as he went, “ Now,
there are two chalk marks on the one side, and
eighteen on the other. I wonder if I can find out
what weight the long end should lift this time.
Oh! I have it,†he cried, “if I count how many
two inches there are contained in the eighteen
inches marked on the other end of the beam, that
will tell me how many times the one end is longer
than the other.
“It’s just nine times longer,†he ejaculated,
chuckling as he made the discovery, “and therefore
one bullet, and a little bit, placed in the pan at the
long end should be able to lift nine bullets in
the other pan.
“Now, Ill see if I’m right!â€
Owen was not many minutes in loading the pan at
the short end with the requisite nine bullets, and
then, with a trembling hand, he dropped the one
bullet and the shot into the opposite scale, fixing
his eye the while on the beam above.
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. AD
As the bullet slipped from his fingers, Owen was
overjoyed to see the scale descend, and the pan con-
taining the heavier weight gradually rise in the air.
“Yes, ’m right! Pm right!†he shouted, “It is
as IT thought. As much longer as the one end of
the beam is than the other, so much the greater
weight will it balance.
“TY should like to try it once more though. Oh!
I never felt so happy in all my life. I would give
up anything to be able to find out things like this
every day. Ha! and I’ve done it all myself—
that’s what pleases me. Won't father be glad. I
wonder what he will say when he hears it. He
always told us we did not know what we could
do till we tried, and I’m sure if I hadn’t tried I
should never have known what Ido now. Yes, I'll
try once more, to make sure. I'll gie the string
round at the fourth chalk mark from the end now,
and see if I can guess how many bullets one bullet
wil raise then.â€
Having shifted the string to the stated point, he
counted the marks on the long end.
“Now there are sixteen marks on one side, and
four on the other,†observed the boy. Next he
reckoned how many four marks were contained in
the sixteen—counting first one four, then two fours,
and so on, as he had previously done with the twos;
for the little fellow was but slightly skilled in
arithmetic.
46 THE BOY-PHILOSOPHER’S
Having finished the calculation, he remarked that
the one was now only four times as long as the other,
consequently the least bit more than one bullet in
the pan at the long end should lift four bullets at
the other.
The point was soon settled, and the boy was once
more charmed to find the result turn out as he had
conjectured.
“It's all the same, try it any way I will!†he
cried. Just as much longer as one arm of the beam
is than the other, so much the greater weight will it
balance ; yes, that’s it. I understand it all now.â€
Then Owen vaulted on to the bench, and sat for
a minute or two considering, playing the while
vacantly with the stick inserted in the large head of
the wooden screw in front of it.
“No! I don’t understand it at all—not a bit of
' it,†he suddenly burst out. “How stupid I am,†he
exclaimed, for—mere boy as he was—he could see,
though he could not express it, that he had dis-
covered only the rule and not the reason of the
matter.
“ Why should one arm of the beam,†he went or
‘ruminating, “merely because it’s longer than the
other, be able to litt a greater weight? Zhat’s what
IT want to know. How silly of me to fancy I had
found it out all in a minute.
“Dear! dear! I don’t see how I am ever to get at
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 4,7
that,†he added, after a few moments’ considera-
tion. “I wish there was some one I could ask—
just to put me in the way, you know. And yet I
shouldn’t like, either,†he continued ; “it’s so nice
atter you have found it out, to feel you’ve done it
all yourself, without a bit of assistance from any
one. Oh! no, no! Tl try on still! There's
nothing like trying, as father says. But how to set
about it—that’s what puzzles me.â€
The boy lapsed into another reverie, and at
length growing restless at his inability to hit upon
any plan that would help him, he jumped down from
the bench and began pacing the shed again. But
it was all in vain.
Accordingly, after a few turns up and down, he
stopped before the scales that were still hanging
suspended by the string from the rafters, and loaded
with the bullets as he had left them. For want of
thought, Owen struck the beam with his finger and
made it vibrate up and down. —
As the lad stood listlessly watching the oscilla-
tions, he suddenly exclaimed, “Look! how much
larger a sweep the long arm, as it moves up and
down, makes than the short one. The one arm is
four times as long as the other,†he said, “and as
well as I can judge, it seems to go about four
times as far. There may be something in that !â€
mused he,
43 THE BOY-PITILOSOPHERS
“TY know what Ill do; T’ll find out how much
farther it really does go, and then Tl see whether
that will help me.â€
Here arose a fresh difficulty. ow was this to
be done? there was no means of measuring, with
any precision, the space that either arm moved
through, in the position that the beam then occu-
pied.
At first Owen thought he would take the balance
down, and removing the scale-pans from the ends of
the beam lay it on the bench, and there chalk
down the lines it described as it moved.
But when he had untied the string it struck him
that, even if he did as he had proposed, it would be
impossible to make the beam turn on any point but
the middle, for there were no holes through it in any
other part.
He knew what he would do! He could easily
cut out a beam in wood. There were some nice
laths handy in the corner.
The notion had no sooner entered his head than
the busy lad set to work to carry out his project,
and it was not long before he had fashioned for
himself a wooden beam of. exactly the same dimen-
sions as the iron one from which the scales had
_ depended. Then having chalked the inches all
along it, as he had done with the metal-beam, he bored
@ hole with the brad-awl at the first inch mark from
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 49
one end, and after that another hole at the second
inch mark, and lastly, one at the fourth.
Next he placed the wooden beam on the bench
before him, and driving a small nail through the first
hole from the end, proceeded, by means of a piece
of chalk held at each extremity, to mark out the
lines that both ends of the beam described as it
turned upon the nail.
Afterwards he removed the beam to another part
of the bench, and having driven the nail this time
through the second hole from the end, went through
the same operation.
Finally, he repeated the process a second time, but
then he took the fourth bole for she centre.
When the work was done, the chalk hnes described
on the bench were as follows, with the exception oi
being considerably longer, and they had then non
of the “ ticks†placed at the side of them.
Owen paused for a moment to contemplate the
various lengths of the curved lines.
“Tt seems to be as I thought,†he murmured—~
“buat Til soon make sure of that.â€
B
50 TIE BOY-PHILOSOPHERS
So saying, the boy took some string, and cutting
a picce precisely the length of the smaller curve in
ile first figure, proceeded to ascertain how many
times it was contained in the larger curve, chalking
off the lengths as he went.
“That’s all right!†he cried, as he summed up
the number of chalk marks. The one arm here
is just nineteen times as long as the other, and there-
fore it goes through, as 1t moves up and down, pre-
cisely nineteen times as great a space as the short one
does.â€
Measuring then the second figure in the same
rude manner, the delighted boy found a similar pro-
portion between the lengths of the curves and the
lengths of the arms; the one end of the beam in
this case being nine times as long as the other,
and the space described by the long end being con-
sequently nine times as great as the short one.
Nor was it in any way different with the third
figure, for here the one curve was four times as long
as the other, and the length of each arm ‘in n precise! y
the same proportion: | |
“Come!†said Owen, as he pondered over the re- |
sult with no little satisfaction; “T’ve found out two
wonderful things to-day—that just as many times
longer as the one arm is than the other, so mandy
times greater the weight that it will balance, and so
many times greater the spuce that it passes through
as ut moves up and down,â€
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 51
eStil,†he observed, after a few minutes’ thought,
“what I want to know is, the reason why it does
all this. Let me see!†he mused, as he fixed
his eyes intently on the figures chalked on the
bench, “If the long end passes through a greater
space than the short end, and both ends move
up and down in the same time, then the one must
go quicker than the other. Yes, to be sure it
must—just as much longer as the one arm is than
the other, so much the swifter must its weight
travel—that’s quite clear.â€
“ But would this make any difference?†he went
on. “Cana weight have more power merely because
it moves more quickly? It’s strange, indeed, if it has.â€
Then Owen hung the scales up once more, still
talking as he did so. But this time he attached —
the string immediately above the tongue in the
“middle of the balance. Having done this, he flung a
bullet into each pan, and as he made the beam
vibrate with his finger, he said—his eyes rivetted
upon it the whils—*“ Here the weights are equal, and
the spaces gone through, at every turn, by each end
of the beam are equal too; so that it is clear one
bullet, with the least atom over, in falling through
so much space, in such and such a time, will lift
another bullet of its own weight just as far, in the
same time. |
“Now,†he continued, “in the case where the one
bullet and a little bit lifted nineteen others, the one
E 2
32 THE BOY-PHILOSOPHER’S
travelled nineteen times as far, and nineteen times
as fast as the others did; therefore it is plain—since
the one bullet lifted every one of the nineteen, just
the nineteenth part of its own distance—if we add
these nineteen parts together, the whole nineteen
bullets must have passed through the same space, in
the same time as the one did. There can be no
doubt of it,†said he, “for look! the long arm fell
nineteen inches while the short arm rose ene inch;
as then every one of the nineteen bullets was lifted
one inch, it is as clear as can be, the whole of the
nineteen together must have gone through nineteen
inches, and that in the same time as did the one
bullet by itself.â€
Owen, however, was not yet convinced that he
understood the matter thoroughly, and the boy bit
his lips with perplexity at the difficulty of the
problem.
“ But if the spaces described are equal,†he mut-
tered, still in doubt, “it’s impossible to make out
that the weights are the same, any way.â€
Then, having considered for awhile, he exclaimed,
“No it isn’t, either, for as the one bullet falls
through nineteen times the greater space, and is
always, as it falls, acting on the others, it is evident
that it must be one bullet acting nineteen times
over. For suppose,†he argued to himself, “the
ends of the beam had been both of the same length,
and the one bullet, and a little tit, had lifted the
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 53
nineteen others through an inch space, one by one
enstead of all together. Then, of course, by the time
the one bullet had raised the whole of the others
one inch each, it would not only have fallen through
nineteen separate inches, but, have acted as nineteen
separate bullets ; so that, when one arm of the beam
1s nineteen times as long as the other, the one bullet
does merely the same thing all at once, and conse-
quently has nineteen times the power.â€
The knot once cut in this case, there was no
longer any difficulty in comprehending the others.
Where the one bullet raised nine, it was now easy to
see that the long end of the beam travelled nine
times as quick and nine times as far as the short
end; and, consequently, that a weight suspended at
the longer end had the power to balance nine times
as much at the shorter one. While, in the instance
where the one end of the balance was four times as
long as the other, it was evident, that the long end
moved four times as quickly, and therefore had four
times the power of the opposite one.
“So then!†ejaculated Owen, “at last I do
understand it all. It is beyond a doubt that the
power of every weight is greater the quicker vé moves,
so that the lightest body, if it could be made to
travel fast enough, might have the same power
given it as the heaviest—even one of these small
shots have the force of a cannon ball, pro-
vided the shot travelled as muck quicker than the
54, THE BOY-PHILOSOPHER’S
cannon ball as the ball was heavier than the shot.
Oh, yes! it isn’t the weight merely that makes the
power of a thing. How stupid Tve been! No; it’s
the weight, together with the speed with which it
moves. Iseethe reason now, why I was able to stir
that heavy rock. My weight at the end of the
beam moved as many times quicker as I was lighter —
than it—that was the reason. Iremember hearing
father say once, that some ereat man he had read
about, had declared if he could only get a place to
rest a beam upon, he would lift the whole world with
a straw. Ay, and so he might, to be sure,†added
the delighted lad—“ with a feather, forthe matter of
that—aif, as father said this morning, the other end
of the beam weve only long enough.â€
By this time the brain of the little fellow was
wearied almost to exhaustion, so by way of recreation
he passed over to the lathe and began working the
treadle with his foot, pleased to find how easily now
he could increase the power at will. Then he made
the wheel spin round violently, and having done so,
he retired a few paces to contemplate the rapidity
of the motion.
As the wheel slackened its pace, and the spokes
became more and more visible, Owen could not help,
now that he was somewhat ‘recruited, lapsing into
his former train of thought.
“it seems to me,†he whispered, “as if those
spokes there were only so many levers, I should
FIRST EXPERIMENTS 65
&
just like to find that out, and then T’d have
clone for to-day. Oh! I see how to do it,†he ex-
claimed; “it wont take me long, now I know so
much as I do.â€
Accordingly Owen proceeded to unhook the
treadie-rod from the crank and to remove the strap
from the fly-wheel ; then he set off into the cottage
to fetch the tape measure his father used when
tailoring. |
Returning quickly with it, he proceeded to take
the dimensions round the rim of the wheel, and
aiter that to ascertain the length of the circumference
of the axle. Next he measured how many times
the one was greater than the other, and finding it
to be eight-and-twenty times, he said, “Now, if
I’m right, the least bit more than a pound weight
at the outside of this wheel should be able to lift
as many as eight-and-twenty pounds at the axle ;
for as the axle,†he added, “must turn round once
_ every time the wheel does, a weight fastened to
_ the rim of the wheel would go through eight-and-
twenty times as great a space as one hanging from
the axle.â€
Tt did not take long to put so simple a matter to
the proof. Having tied a pound weight to one
end of a piece of string, he fastened the other end to
the rim of the wheel, and then proceeded to attach
to the axle, by means of a stout cord, the quarter of
a hundredweight he had borrowed, for the purpose
56 TILE BOY-PHILOSOPIIER’S
from Roger Wilkins, the clothier hard by. Next
he added a slight extra weight to the pound, so as
to give it a sufficient preponderance to start the
wheel, and was overjoyed to see the heavy weight
rise as the lighter one fell.
“This is beautiful!†he cried, as he repeated the
experiment over and over again. “I could tell
now what power was wanted to lift any weight if |
only knew the size of the wheel and axle, or the
length of the two ends of the beam.
The words had no sooner escaped him, than
springing up from the ground where he had been
kneeling to watch the wheel of the lathe revolve,
he shouted : “I know what I'll do! I'll be off to the
draw-well,—that’s just the thing for me! There’s
a wheel and axle there, and I'll soon find out now
what gain there is in the power with it.
The weil to which Owen alluded was at the top
of the common. It was not utterly unpicturesque
in appearance. Round the mouth of it a stone
wall was raised breast high; this was nearly black in
the inside, and had a moist green look, while the
outside was half hidden by weeds and brambles,
excepting where the bright worn handle of the
winch projected, and there the. ground was bald, as it
were, and the grass for some little distance worn and _
trampled by the many comers. Above the axle
was a little roof to protect the cords from the wet,
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 57
and the thatch of this was partly covered with thick
clumps of bright green moss. |
The well itself was noted for miles round for its
depth and the purity of the water; though as you
craned your neck over the edge of the wall, and
peeped down the long dark perpendicular tunnel, the
water looked more like ink as it lay shimmering
there in the darkness at the bottom.
Owen having come prepared with his tape
measure to take the circumference of the axle, was
not long in satisfying himself as to its dimensions,
and then ascertaining the length of the winch, he
described a circle on the ground by means of the same
measure tied to a bit of stick, and thus obtained the
length of the space passed through by the winch at
each revolution it made.
Then, after a long cogitation, he found how many
times the circumference of the circle, described by
the winch as it revolved, was greater than the cir-
cumference of the axle; and so at length discovered
exactly how much more easily a man was enabled to
raise water by such means than he could without it.
By this time the energies of the little philosopher
were fairly spent. He had never thought so much
in all his life before, and now that the excitement
was over, and he had solved the riddle that puzzled
58 TIE BOY-PHILOSOPHER'S
him, he felt as tired as if he had walked with his
father to Builth market and back.
Insensibly the little fellow fell asleep beside the
circle he had described on the ground; for what
with his restlessness the night before, and the men-
tal labour he had gone through that morning, he
was utterly overpowered, and slumbered on with-
out a dream to.rufle his rest.
At length old Jack, who had returned to his
quarters on the common, strolled on, as he nibbled the
short herbage, to the brow of the hill, and dis-
covering his young master stretched at full length
on the ground, began rubbing his nose, as was his
wont, against the lad’s cheeks.
Owen, roused by the animal, smiled as he opened
his eyes, and found his pet brute at his side.
“What, Jacky, are you there? Is it you, you
old rascal? ‘You're sure to find me out, you are!â€
he cried, as he started to his feet, and shook the
donkey playfully by his long, furry ear. Then, still
full of the discoveries he had made, he said, “ Ah,
Jack, you little know what Ive found out. I wish
IT could tell you, old fellow, for then you'd be as happy
as [ am—I know you would. Why, I’ve found out,
Jacky, the way to make you move any weight, and
that without tiring you at all, too. Il tell you what
I mean to do, old fellow, when I grow up, and get to
have some money of my own. I mean to builda
large mill, and make you turn it, Jack; but I shall
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 59
have the beam so long, that you will be able to push
it round almost without knowing it. Then I shall
be rich; and then sha’n’t you be fat, sir—ah, that
you shall! You shall be as fat as Mrs. Williams’s
r, over at the Court, yonder. And I'll always
lap-dog
have my pockets full of lumps of sugar and apples
for you then, old beauty. Ah! who tore my Sunday
coat, last Christmas-tide, trying to get at the apples
in my pocket, you wicked old thing, you.†And the
boy hugged the pet brute as he upbraided him.
As Owen jogged down the common talking to the
donkey about the many fine things he was to do
when he had invented this same grand machine,
he caught the sound of the throbbing of the water-
mill at the clothier’s in the village below, and this
started a new train of thought in his mind.
“Many and many a time have I leant over the
little bridge yonder,†he murmured, as the memories
bubbled up in his brain, “and seen the water come
pouring down the sluice all of a foam, from the dam
beside it, and watched the large black shiny wheel
roll round and round, as the troughs filled one after
another, while the water dripping from them sparkled
in the sun, with a thousand colours—for all the world
like the crystal drops to the Squire’s chandelier
—and the stream beneath was all of a lather, and
white as drifting snow. Oh! I think it’s the
prettiest sight in all the world!†he exclaimed.
“T’ve lain for hours along the coping-stone of the
60 TH BOY-PHILOSOPHERS
bridge, and gazed at it all—the little fall with the
water streaming over the dam, like a sheet of glass,
and the large feathery drooping willow growing from
out the high red rock on one side, with the slender
branches hanging down, and the tips of them just
dipping in the water, and the green reflection of
its form showing in the pool below, all zig-zaggy,
as the current danced along. Ah, many a time
Dve sat watching all this, and, as I heard the clatter
of the wheels within, mingling with the hum of the
falls, ’'ve wondered and wondered how it was that
a few buckets-full of water could ever have such
power. But now it’s as clear as daylight tome. Isn't
a bucket-full of water too heavy for me to lift?
What, then, must be the power of ten or twelve of
these always at work at the edge of a wheel that is
as high as our cottage? Why, it must have force
enough to do anything. It would tear up oaks as
easily as I could pull a rush from a pond.
“TI understand it all—I understand it all!†he
added; “and now I'll go home, but I wont say a
word to anybody about what I’ve found out till
I’ve written it all down, and then I'll show it
to father. I wonder what he'll say when he sees
it—whether he'll think me as clever as he was
at my age? I’ve heard him say he used tc make
his cwn kites and things. If he’s very pleased,
Pll get him to teach me to turn at the lathe, and
_ then I can make a Ict of wheels, and try a number
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 6}
of things for myself. Oh, yes, I dare say he will, if
I ask him, for he’s so good to us—yes, very good to
us indeed—ever since poor mother died. He isn’t :
like John Jarman’s father, always coming home
tipsy from the public ot a night, and beating
his boy about, till his cries sometimes can be heard
all over the village. No, father’s quite different to
that. Why, when he comes home after his work,
he sits down to teach us, for he would have given
the world, he says, to have had any one to instruct
him when he was a youngster. I wonder whether
he'll be as glad this time as he was when he found out
that I'd learnt myself to read. He said I wasn’t old
enough, and that there was no use bothering me with
such things afore my time—ha! ha! but I used to run
round to old Betty Watkin, and get her to teach me
my letters out of the sampler, with the funny red
worsted trees worked at the bottom of it, that she
did when she was a little girl of nine, and ‘ that’s just
sixty-two year ago, the poor old thing used to
say. Oh, yes; I wonder if father'll be as pleased
now as he was then?â€
Early the next day Owen was busy preparing for
the execution of his plan. Having broken his little
earthenware money-box, he took out the new six-
pence Squire Williams had given him when he
carried home the young Squire’s toy poodle dog
after Davy had mended it. With this money, ano
62 THE BOY-PHILOSOPHER'S
a halfpenny added to it, the boy purchased a copy-
book and a new pen at the little village shop that
was at once the chandler’s, mercer’s, ironmonger’s,
stationer’s, and, indeed, the repository of almost
everything for the neighbouring population.
He then shut himself up in his little room, and
proceeded to give an account, in his own boyish way,
of the several experiments he had made; these
he illustrated with rude sketches of the lever, and
the wheel, and axle, showing whence arose the in-
crease of power derived from such mechanical
instruments.
It took the lad some days to complete all this,
and many an experiment. had he to try in order to
perfect 1t. But when it was done, it was, perhaps,
though Owen himself was unconscious of the fact,
the greatest marvel ever wrought by boyish in-
genuity.*
Still, delighted as the lad was with the little trea-
tise he had written, he was half afraid to show it
to his father, and he put off doing so from day to
day, though every morning he made up his mind
a eee
* This is no fiction; the boy Ferguson achieved the same
wonderful task when he was ‘‘about seven or eight years of
age ;†and the incident of lifting the roof, which has here
been made to give rise to Owen’s discovery, is merely an
elaboration of the event which originally incited Fergugon to
the study of mechanics.—See Frrauson’s AUTOBIOGRAPIY,
prefixed to his Lectures,
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 63
that he would let him see it that evening after his
work was over,
At length, one night, as the timid boy sat twist-
ing the copy book round and round, his father,
noticing the fidgetiness of the lad, demanded to
know what Owen was fumbling about there.
It was not in Owen’s nature to prevaricate, so he
told him, “It was merely a little book he had
written,†and then jumping up and throwing his arms
round Davy Evans’ neck, the nervous boy hid his
head as he kissed his father, and confessed that he
wanted him to look over it, but did not like to
trouble him.
Davy embraced his boy in return, and Owen,
gaining confidence, placed the roll of paper in his
father’s hand.
“ Tem!†exclaimed the good man, half laughing
with pride as he glanced over the pages, and
minutely examined the penmanship, saying—“ Yes,
Owey, it’s very nicely written indeed for you!
The letters are formed well enough, and, if you
only take pains, yowil get into a good hand by and
byeâ€
“ But—a—a—but it wasn’t the writing, father,
that I wanted you to look at,†stammered the
bashful lad ; “I—I—-I—wanted you to read what
it was about.â€
“Oh,†said his father, “TI see it’s all about levers
64 TIIE BOY-PHILOSOPHER’S
and mechanical powers; but Pm tired now, Owey
poy; Ill look at it another time. What book did
* you copy it out of, lad?â€
Owen blushed red to the roots of his hair—*T
didn’t copy it out of any book, father,†he answered,
nervously, “I did it all out of my own head.†|
Davy Evans drew himself up in his chair, and
looking his boy sternly in the face, said—“Owen,
you never told me a falsehood yet.â€
The little fellow lost all fear in a minute, and
angry at his father’s doubt, he returned his glance
proudly, as he said—“Nor do I tell you a story
now, sir !â€
The courage, however, that fired the lad lasted but
‘or a moment, and then poor Owen burst into a
flood of tears, saying, as he buried his head on
Davy’s shoulder—“ Oh, father, father, you have told
me I should not doubt your word, then why
should you doubt mine? You never did so before !â€
and the little lad sobbed aloud as if his heart would
oreak.
The old man clutched his boy to his bosom, and
hugging him fondly, exclaimed—“I was wrong, lad!
Iwas wrong! But come, now, come! wipe your
eyes, and tell me what all this is about.â€
Owen then narrated to him the several experi-
ments, and told his father how those words of his,
“if the beam had only been long enough,†had so
fastened upon his mind, that he could not rest until
FIRST EXPERIMENTS. 65
he had discovered why a greater length of beam
should give greater power.
To the infinite joy of the lad, he beheld his pa-
rent, when the tale was ended, open the book, and
though tired, as Owen knew him to be, he read
every page from beginning to end. As he did
so, Owen never took his eyes from the good man’s
face, but watched every smile and nod of approba-
tion he gave, the boy’s blood tingling the while
through his veins.
“Very good, Owey! very well done, indeed !â€
cried Davy, patting him on the head, as he came to
the end of the little treatise; “and a wonderful
discovery it would have been had no one ever
done it before you.â€
“ Done it before!†echoed Owen, as his father’s
words went through his brain like a pistol shot.
“ Yes, lad! if you'll go to Parson Wynn’s and ask
him to let you see that big book of his, which I used
to have reading, you'll find it all printed there, and
a great deal more beside.â€
The words had no sooner been uttered by his
father, and Owen learnt that what he imagined he
had been the first to discover had already been
found out by another, than he dropped into his chair
almost broken-spirited with the intelligence,
CHAPTER IIT.
THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER.—WHAT COMES OF
. TITROWING STONES.
OWEN was broken spirited.
For a time he sat moodily in his chair, ashamed
to cry, and yet ready to burst into tears. All the
bright hopes he had raised had been suddenly
destroyed. For days he had buoyed himself up by
imagining the delight his father would feel on seeing
what he had done, and wondering whether his parent
would think him as clever as he himself had been
when a boy. His chief pride, too, had been that
the work was entirely his own, for he could not con-
ceive the possibility of any 0 one having done it before
hin.
Accordingly when he heard his father say that some
one had iorestalled him in the discovery, the words
came upon him with the force of a heavy blow. All
his calculations and contrivances seemed to have
_ Been wasted; he had been puzzling his brain for
THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER, ETC, 67
days to find out that which he might have learned
from a book with little or no trouble.
At first he felt so disgusted with the worthless-
ness of what he had written, that had his father not
been present, he would have torn the copybook to
atoms. Then what was worse than all, his father
seemed to slight his work, and this was almost more
than Owen could bear; so he sat silently brooding
over his bitter disappointment until Davy Evans,
noticing the lad’s dejection, inquired what was the
matter, saying, “Come, Owey, boy, don’t be down-
hearted.â€
“T think you're not pleased with me, father,â€
cried the little fellow, starting up and throwing his
arms round Davy Evans’s neck so that he should
not see his tears. |
“Yes, I am, Owey,†replied Davy, as he patted
his boy, encouragingly, on the back.
“No! but you are not so pleased as I fancied you
would have been,†sobbed Owen; “I thought you
would have kissed me as much as you did when you
discovered I had taught myself to read, and I am
sure what I’ve done now was much harder to find
out by myself than the alphabet was. But all
you say at present is, ‘that some one has done it
before, and you ask me what book I copied it out
of; but what hurt me more than all was, you de-
clared I was telling you a story. Oh, it’s very
F 2
68 THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
cruel of you,†he cried; the tears gushing from the
poor lad’s eyes as he summed up his grievances.
The good man smiled as he heard the boy upbraid
him for his want of encouragement; and as he
clasped him to his bosom, he said, “ Well, well, lad,
perhaps I haven’t been so kind to you as I ought,
and didn’t praise you for what you had done so
much as I should, if I had only thought for a
moment, Owen, how soon you take a thing to heart.
There, don’t fret, boy! I think it very clever, ’m
sure ; and there are few men that could have done
what you have. Now, does that please you ?â€
Owen laughed outright through his sobs, and
answered, “ Yes, father, it does please me—it makes
me feel so happy, I can’t tell you. I could do any-
thing to hear you talk so to me, for then I think I
am getting a big man, and shall soon be able to
work for myself. Do you think I shall ever be as
clever as you are, father?†he inquired.
“Yes, Owey,†chuckled the labourer, “and a
deal cleverer, too. Remember, I had nobody to
teach me when I was a youngster, for there wasn’t a
man nor a woman in the village then as could read.
Old Squire Williams's father, to be sure, they used to
say, was a great ‘scholard,’ but he was always out
fox hunting, or shooting, or fishing, or something
of that kind; and there were no Sunday-schools
neither in them days. Besides, I was put out toa
- mason when I was five year old, and had to be off
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 69
with him at six in the morning—sometimes to go
ever so many miles to the work, and obligated to run
all the way there, too, for my little legs couldn’t keep
up with his long ones. There was no learning to
read in such times as them, Owen; and I was a
grown-up man afore I felt the want of it. It wasn’t
till I married your mother (rest her soul!) that IT
got to know my letters. She were obligated to be a
bit of a scholard, for her father, you know, kept the
Bronllys turnpike, and she had to take the tickets
sometimes. I wouldn’t let her teach me, though; I
was proud-spirited, you see, and liked to do every-
thing for myself; so she just put me in the way
like, and I wasn’t long afore I got hold of the
whole of it. When I found the help it was to
me, I used to tell her that our children shouldn't
be brought up without any learning, if I starved
for it.â€
“Tt was very good of you, father,†said Owen,
“ Poor mother used to teach Hugh, I remember, and
look what a clever scholar he is. Why, he can tell
how much timber there is in a tree merely by mea-
suring it.â€
« And so will you, boy,†answered Davy, “if you
go on in this way. You'll be able to do much finer
things than that if you'll only strive, for there are
wonderful matters to be learnt, Owen. I am sure,
when I used to read in that big Cyclopsdy of
Parson Wynn’s, the astonishing things that had
70 TILE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
been found out, I’ve thanked God over and over
again that P’ve lived to know so much of his good-
ness and glory. Often and often I’ve wished I were
a gentleman, with nothing to do but to study such
matters and teach them to you, my lad. Some day,
Owey, you'll get to read about the stars, and learn
how every one of the little tiny specks of light you
see in the heavens are great big worlds, and how
they are millions and millions of miles away ; and
you will see, then, how clever men have measured
the: size of them, and weighed them, and told how
far distant they are.â€
“Oh! father,†cried the boy, his mind almost
everpowered with wonder, as the flood of new
thoughts swept through his brain, “who could
ever do that? Why the stars are too far away
for any one to get to measure them, as I’ve seen
Hugh do with the trees; and if they are so big
as you say, how would they ever be got into a pair
of scales to weigh them? I always thought they
were like those ‘jack-o’-lanthorns’ one sces after
dark, floating about in the air over the marshes.
Oh, I should like, father, to learn about the
stars.â€
“All in good time, lad,†returned Davy, laying
his hand on Owen’s head; “ you've got more than
twenty years the start of me, and besides you are
well on the right road now. So go you up to the
_ Parson’s to-morrow, and learn all about what you've
WITAT COMES OF TIIROWING STONES. 71
been doing—they call it the laws of motion, I think
—and directly you know them, you can set to work
about the stars as soon as you please.â€
Early the next morning the little fellow set off
delighted on his road to the minister’s, and as he
went, he called at the mill toreturn the weight he had
borrowed of Roger Wilkins a day or two before.
The water-mill of Llanvach was one of those little
old-fashioned factories, studded throughout the
country, where the work-people consist merely of the
owner's family, and the farmers for miles round bring
the produce of the last year’s shearing to be made up
into cloth for their coats, or linsey-wolsey for their
dames’ gowns, and where, when the work is slack,
the weaver occupies himself by making up a small
roll of Welsh flannel to take to market on his own
account. On entering the little factory, Owen was
half-bewildered by the clatter of the machinery, the
whirling of the wheels, and the hurrying to and fro of
- the long leathern straps that extended from one end
of the shed to the other. On one side of the building
stood the carding machine with one of the Wilkins
boys feeding it with wool, the white flocks clinging
to his dark hair and eyebrows like gossamer to the
bushes. At the end of the building was the wife in
a huge long pinafore, tending the spinning machine ;
while on the other side was the loom at which Roger
Wilkins himself was seated, with the threads like
cobweb stretching before him, and the shuttles
72 - MIE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
darting in and out between them like bats flitting
in the dusk among the branches.
Roger Wilkins knew sufficient of mechanics to
be able to direct the repairs of his own mill; so
when Owen showed him the little book he had
written, with all its ingenious experiments concern-
ing levers, and wheels, and axles, the clothier,
pleased with the boy’s tastes and the cleverness he
had displayed, “knocked off†working for awhile,
and took Owen round the mill to explain to him
the uses of its several parts. He showed him
how one cogged wheel with fifty teeth to it
working into another that had only ten teeth,
caused the second to make five revolutions in the
same time as the first made one, and how the
power of the second was, consequently, five times
less, for, said he, “every machine is merely an
instrument for changing the direction of a force, or
for increasing either its power or velocity.â€
“You see here,†said the weaver, “in this mill,
the direction of the force of the water is entirely
changed. The stream, you know, Owen, is running
on in a straight line outside, and here we have the
force twisting round and round in this carding
machine, and moving up and down in that loom.â€
Then Ntoger Wilkins reminded Owen that a
windmill was a machine that changed the direct
course of the wind into a circular one, causing the
stones to revolve, and so to grind the corn.
“Indeed, this change of the direction of a force,â€
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 19
he added, “is one of the main objects of every —
machine, but,†continued he, “another object is to
increase either the power of the force that drives
the machine, or else its rate of travelling.â€
When the power is increased, Roger told the boy
it was always done at the expense of time, saying,
“Just as much stronger as the machine makes the
force, so much the slower does it travel.†|
“ And when the rate of travelling is increased,â€
he added, “it is always done at the expense of the
original force; for just as much quicker as the
machine moves than the force, so much the weaker
is 1ts power.â€
“ Look, Owen!†he went on, “these wheels here
travel many times quicker than the water-wheel ;
that is, while the water-wheel goes round once, they
go round some hundred times, and therefore the
force in them is more than a hundred times less
than it is in the large wheel outside.â€
“Tt is precisely the same in a clock,†he added.
“See, lad!†the weaver said, as he drew Owen
towards the large wooden timepiece that hung
against the wall, “this is the weight that sets the
whole in motion. Just feel the heft of it !â€
The little fellow placed his palm beneath the
mass of lead, and found it was almost more than he
could sustain with one hand. |
_ “Now,†proceeded the weaver, “mount them
_ Steps, and touch the top wheel, and then see how
easily you can stop the whole. Do you observe, my
74 TIIE COY VISITS THE MINISTER—
little man, you can prevent this heavy weight falling
with the mere force of your finger ?â€
Owen descended the ladder, delighted with the
experiment he had made; the more pleased to find
that everything he saw and heard confirmed the
truth of his own discovery.
“Look you, boy!†continued Rozer Wilkins,
“that wheel you touched is the one that moves the
pendulum of the clock, and goes round once in about
half a minute, while the minute-hand, which is
driven by the weight here, goes round once only in
an hour; consequently it travels something like one
hundred times as quick as the minute-hand, and
go takes a hundred times less force than would be
needed at the axis of the minute-hand to prevent
the weight falling.â€
_ After this, Roger showed the lad how easy it was
(upon the same principle) to stop the mill, though
the water-wheel itself, he said, had power to crush
either of them.
“But there are many machines just the reverse
of these,†the weaver went on to say. “and where
the power is increased by the rate of travelling
being decreased ; such are cranes, where a man is
made to lift as great a weight as twenty or even a
hundred men could raise without any such instru-
ment ; but in all such cases the machine causes the
weight to travel as many times slower than the power
as the power is rendered greater by it. The wheel and
axle at the well is only another instance of the same
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONZS. 75
kind ; so that you see, Owen,†he added, “there are
but two things a machine can do—the first is to
change the direction of a force, and the second eitber
to increase its power by decreasing its speed, or to
increase its speed by decreasing its power. Or to
put the matter more clearly, we may say it is im-
possible to augment both the power and speed of a
force at one and the same time; for just as many
times as the one is made greater, must the other
be lessened.â€
When the weaver had finished his little lecture on
mechanics, he patted the boy kindly on his shoulder,
and bade him come in to see them whenever he
wanted, assuring the little fellow he would always be
glad to help him in any way he could. Roger
only wished that his lads were half as handy as
Owen was.
Owen blushed again, and thanked Roger Wilkins
kindly for all he had told and shown him, saying,
“1 can't tell you, Mr. Wilkins, what a deal I’ve
learnt from you;†and then adding, that “he was
going up to Parson Wynn’s, to read there in the big
book his father had learnt out of,†the boy put on
his cap, and was about to depart.
“Here! Owen, Owen!†shouted the weaver, as he
sat down again to hisloom; “Tve got something for
you. I didn’t think of it till it caught my eye here.â€
Owen Evans hastened back to the weaver, and
found him in the act of taking down some dusty
looking curiosity from the top of the loom,
76 TIZXE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
“Look here, lad, this'll just do for you,†said
, Roger Wilkins, as he puffed a cloud of dust from
the crannies of the wood-work, and disclosed a little
model of a water-mill. “It’s an over-shot wheel,
just like the one here, and all done to scale, too.
It’s many years ago since I made it. I was up at
Llanelly then. There, take it with you, lad, it'll be
a nice toy for such a boy as you. My lads would
only break it in a week; they’ve no taste for such
things.â€
“Oh! thank you, sir,†cried Owen; “ thank you ;â€
and the enraptured boy turned the model round and
round again, as he greedily eyed every part of it.
“ Did you cut it out with a knife, sir?â€
“Ay, Pll tell you all about it when you come in
another time,†answered the weaver, impatient to
get to his work again. “ And I'll tell you, my boy,
nice stories about Arkwright, the poor penny barber,
who invented one of our best spinning machines,
and made no end of money by it—died the richest
man in the kingdom. I'll tell you, too, how his wife
in a passion broke the model of the machine when
he had finished it, vowing it would bring them to
ruin, and that he’d much better keep to his penny
shaving. Ha! ha! ha!†roared the weaver, tickled
at the recollection.
“No, did she though!†exclaimed the simple-
minded boy; “it was very cruel of her.â€
“Yes, lad, it was. There, there, you go now, I
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES —‘17?
haven’t time to talk, for I must finish this ‘cut’ afore
nightfall,†responded the weaver. “When you
come again, I'll have thought ot a lot of stories for
you, about people that have invented things.
' There's poor William Lee—that’s very pretty—the
' scholard of Cambridge, who invented the stocking-
- frame—a wonderful thing that !—he did it from
watching the motion of his wife’s fingers whilst she
was knitting a pair of stockings, as she rocked the
cradle with her baby in it, when they were very
poor. But there! there! you must go, Owen, or I
shall stop chattering to you all day and get no
work done.†|
Clank, clank, went the loom again, and the little ~
factory rattled once more with the motions of its
many wheels.
“Mind you come again soon, Owen,†roared the
weaver, through the noise. “Such nice stories!â€
Owen nodded, as he smiled at the weaver, and
then lifting the latch, took his departure with the
| little model under his arm.
As the door slammed back, the weaver stopped
his loom -for a moment, and shouted to his wife,
“That little lad will live to be somebody, take my
word for it, girl.†|
_ Little Owen, having left the model at home,
went jogging merrily on his way to Parson Wynn’s,
thinking over the while how kind Roger Wilkins
78 TIIE BOY VISITS TIE MINISTER—
had been to him, and how much he should like
to hear the stories the weaver had promised
to tell him about the great men who had invented
the wonderful machinery for spinning and weaving.
Then the lad fell into a reverie concerning the poor
penny barber, and wondered how one~-so poor
could ever have learnt enough to become se clever.
This kindled in the boy a hope that, poor as he was,
still, by striving, he one day might find out some-
thing which would bring his father “a goodish bit of
money,’ and that would be very nice, for then the
old man needn’t work any more, and he (Owen)
would no longer be a burden to him.
When the little fellow had exhausted this part of
the subject, and had mentally made everybody in
the village happy and comfortable with his imaginary
riches, he amused himself by contemplating the
immense amount of knowledge he fancied himself
the possessor of. He repeated, over and over again, to
himself what the weaver had told him was the two-
fold object of all machines, saying, as he sauntered
on, and strove to impress the fact on his memory,
“ Kvery machine has only two uses; the first use is,
to alter the direction of a force, and the second—let
me see! what was the second? I remember the first
well enough, for Mr. Wilkins said the force of the
water outside his mill was in a straight line, and in-
side it was made to turn round and round, and so
to card the wool and spin the threads, But how
i
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 79
stupid of me to forget the second use. Oh! I know it
\??
now!†he said, as the memory flashed across his mind ;
“the second use was either to increase the power by
decreasing the speed of the original force, or else to in-
crease the speed of the force by decreasing its power.
Yes, that’s it!†exclaimed the excited boy, striking
the palms of his hands together as he went; “I know
it all! and I’m sure I could tell now what was the
gain or loss of power in any machine I saw. I should
only have to calculate how many times quicker or
slower the machine went at the end where the work
was done, than it did at the beginning, where the
force was set to drive the wheels, to find out exactly
how much stronger or weaker it had become. Oh!
isn’t it beautiful to know all this. Whenever I sce
a windmill or a watermill again, I shall understand
all about it, and I shali be able to tell any one how
the force of the wind or the water is made to move
round and round inside the mill, instead of going on
in a straight line as it does outside of it.â€
All this, Owen, as we have said, repeated to him-
self again and again, so that he might be perfect in
the matter by the time he got to Parson Wynn’s,
for the boy was anxious to let the minister sce
how much he knew on the subject, and then, per-
haps, Mr. Wynn would let him have the big book
by and by to read by himself. |
Thus occupied on the way, Owen at length
reached the residence of Parson Wynn. It was
80 THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER —
a moderate sized cottage, built sideways to the
road, and all that could be seen on approaching
it was its white gable end, for the front was half
hidden by the trees of the small orchard that grew
in the meadow before it. The only point at all
remarkable in the exterior, was the two huge flat
stones placed slanting over the door-way, so as to
form a rude kind of porch.
Within the door (that stood always open) might
be seen the bright white tins and yellow brass candle-
sticks shining over the mantelpiece, while ranged
beside the ample fire-place appeared the minister’s
large hooded bee-hive chair, with a brown ham _
or two dangling from the rafters above it; and
stowed away in the far corner the eye caught sight
of the large cask of cyder—the produce of the last
year’s crop of apples from the little orchard without,
The room thus seen served not only for the
kitchen and sitting-room of the minister and his
daughters, but it also formed the work-room of the
two girls, who were the milliners and dressmakers to
the surrounding villages ; and generally the little
table by the window was littered with some bright-
' coloured cotton print that “the Misses Wynnâ€
were busy making up, according to the last Brecon
fashions, for one of the neighbouring farmers’
Wives. |
The minister himself was far more peculiar than
the cottage in which he lived. Had it not been
yO Naber
ed ay
b hi
Parson Wynn in Sunday Costume.—P. 81.
gh
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. $i
for his white cravat (tied like a whisp of. muslin
round his neck) and his long Quaker-cut black great
coat, it would have been difficult to have distin-
guished him from a farmer; for he wore a felt hat,
somewhat of the shape of a wagoner’s, but of a
rusty black hue, and the nether half of his body was
incased in what the people round about. would call
“@ drab breeches,†and high Wellington boots that
reached up to his knees. |
This costume the clergyman had adopted on
account of his having to ride some fourteen miles to
his little mountain church—or rather chapel, for it
was no bigger than a cowhouse, and had nothing but
a bell perched at one end of the roof to mark
it as a place of public devotion. Every Sabbath
he and old Jessie, the mare that nibbled the
grass among the apple-trees in the orchard during
the week, might be seen jogging along with one of
the girls perched up a-pillion behind, and the other
walking by the side, on their way to early morning
service—the minister, and his family, and horse,
being entertained at some of the farmhouses on the
hills between the hours of worship. | |
It did not require a second glance at the Par-
son’s face to tell that he came of the ancient
British stock, for his complexion was of the swar-
thiest hue, his eyebrows thick and black, while his
chin and cheeks, even when newly shaven, were as
blue as the bloom on a ripe plum; and the hair,
G
82 | THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
which hung long and lank about his shoulders, was
as black as the fringe round his pulpit. His figure
was tall and spare, and rendered more ungainly by
& roundness of the shoulders that amounted almost
to a hump.
The girls were sufficiently like their father to be
far from prepossessing in appearance, for they were
disfigured by the same rotundity of shoulder, while
their arms were unnaturally long, and their hands
almost ape-like in their dimensions.
At first, it was far from pleasant to look upon
them, and yet as you got to know them, and to
become better acquainted with the kindliness of
their natures, all recollection of the original im-
pression wore off, and you grew to think them
almost pretty. The devotion of the girls to their
father was a beauty not to be forgotten. Their
mother they had never known—for they were twins,
and she had died a few hours after they were born.
Nor were the virtues of the girls confined solely
to their own home, for they were the nurses to the
sick poor for miles round, and scarcely a cottage
could you enter but some villager had long tales to
tell of their goodness and charity. Without the
means to render any pecuniary assistance in the time
of distress, they brought to the suffering what it was
impossible for money to purchase, and what even
the poorest have it in their power to render,—sym-
pathy and consolation, Then, too, they were the
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 83
peacemakers of many a home, and boys who dreaded
their father’s anger always flew to them.
The girls had long ago made up their minds (as
they said) “never to marry,†observing, playfully,
that they were too ugly for any one to think of
having them, and doubtless it was a sense of their
personal defects that made them cling the more
fondly to their father ; for when the old man, who
from long association and deep affection for his
children, had grown to be almost blind to their de-
formity, used to twit the girls with leaving him
some day for some good-looking fellow of a
husband, they would assure him that nothing on
earth could ever make them part from him. Nor
was this a mere passing sentiment, for so conscious
were they that it was their destiny never to be
linked to another, that they had been led to seek
a livelihood for themselves, well knowing that their
father’s humble means (the “living†of the little
parish yielded him but twenty pounds a year) were
insufficient for the maintenance of them all.
Owen, indeed, loved the two girls dearly ; he
scarcely knew which he liked the more. Betty was
so kind and gentle, and Lucy so playful with him.
fic could just remember the many weeks they had
sat by his sick mother’s bedside night after night—
first one and then the other—all the time she lay
ill with the fever ; and how they used to bring her
nice cooling drinks, and would come and read to
G 2
et THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
her when she was able to bear it. Then, after hig
poor mother’s death, when his father hardly knew
what he was to do with little Peggie, the girls had
taken her home, and brought her up like one of
themselves.
There was no house that Owen visited with
greater delight than Parson Wynn’s, and none at
which he was more welcome. He had long ago
got to call the girls “ Auntie,†although they were
in no way kin to him, and he never went to their
cottage but one of them was sure to fill his pockets
with apples for himself and old Jack, and the other
to give him one of the dough cakes, hot from the
even, whenever she had any baking going on.
The girls no sooner heard the gate creak on its
hinges, as Owen let it swing back, than Lucy put
down her work to see who was coming; and as she
caught sight of the boy tripping along the pathway,
she ran towards him with her arms outstretched,
and throwing them about him, as she stooped down,
kissed the little fellow again and again.
Then she seized the boy by the hand, and dragged
him along as she ran back to the door, crying to
her sister, “Auntie Betty! Auntie Betty! here’s
hittle Cock Robin come to see us.â€
“Auntie Betty†no sooner heard the words than
she left the lump of dough she was busy kneading
(for it was her week to do the duties of the house),
and hastened to meet the boy,
WIIAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 85
“Don't touch me, Robin, dear,†she said, thrust-
ing back her bare arms, which were as white as a
plaster-cast with flour, and craning her neck for-
ward, as she pouted out her lips to kiss the lad,
“don’t touch me, or I shall make you like a little
miller’s boy.†|
As soon as the congratulations and embracings
were ended, Lucy commenced, as usual, putting
Owen “to rights,†as she called it.
“ Dear, dear Owen, what makes you drag your
hair into your eyes in this way?†she cried, as she
took off his cap and lifted his head back by his
chin so as to have a good look at him; “you seem
to take a delight in hiding your nice forehead,†and
so saying she drew one of the side combs from her
hair, and began to make the lad look (to use her
own words) “like a little man.â€
“There !†she cried, kissing his forehead, when
she had combed the hair from it, “ youre some-
thing like my clever little Robin now, but before, I
declare if you didn’t look like that sleepy old Jack
of yours—indeed, indeed you did, sir.â€
This operation was no sooner finished than “Aunt
Betty,†who had been intently watching the effect
produced, exclaimed, “ Do look, now, at the boy’s
collar. Whatever has he been doing with the
corner of it ?†| |
“Qh! you little monkey, you've been biting it!
It’s all wet, I declare! Uch-a-vee!†screamed Lucy,
86 THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—~
as she let it fall from her fingers, and added, play-
fully, “Was a poor little Robby so hungry then
that he must nibble his shirt collar along the road?â€
Then suddenly altering her tone, she inquired
sharply, but half laughing the while, “what ever
made you do it, sir?â€
“T don’t know, Auntie,†replied Owen, as he
looked astonished at the moist and mangled corner;
“ZT wasn’t aware I had done it. You see I was
thinking of a lot of things as I came along, and I
suppose I got biting it then.â€
“You're always thinking, little Mr. Clever, you
are,†returned Lucy, patting him playfully on the
cheek, “I’m sure if I didn’t know you, I should
fancy you were not ‘all there’ sometimes,†she added.
Suddenly she cried, “Oh! look here! just see
what a state now your boots arein! Why the
upper leathers are as wet as that nasty sucker of
yours. There, go and take them off, or you'll be
catching your death of cold, and then we shall have
to nurse you. Go and take them off, sir, do, and
pop your feet into my side-laced boots while they
are drying by the fire.â€
The latter part of this speech was spoken so
sharply that, though Lucy meant it for fun, Owen,
who knew he had been too much occupied on
the road to pay attention to the swampy places
that lay in his way, and was half ashamed to find
he was nearly wet through to the feet, took it
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 87
seriously to heart ; and fancying the girl was really
scolding him, he could not refrain from sobbing as
he knelt down on the hearth rug to unlace his
soppy boots.
Betty caught the sound of the lad fetching his
breath through his tears. Hastily rubbing the
paste and flour from her arms, she ran to him,
ejaculating, “Why, Lucy! you've made the poor
child cry,†and then lifting him on to her knee, she
hugged him fondly to her.
The tender-hearted Lucy no sooner heard the
words than she flew towards her sister, and kneel-
ing down at her feet, said, as she placed her cheek
near Owen’s; “ Why, Owey, boy, I was only in
play! Auntie Lucy wouldn’t hurt her dear little
Cock Robin,†and then she began prattling to him
as women love to do to pet children. “ There! him
dry him little eyes.†(Betty wiped them with the
corner of her apron.) “Oh! he’s his Auntie Lucy’s
own dear little Cock Robin, he is, and a ducks-a-
diamonds, too,†babbled on the girl, while she
pressed his cheeks between the palms of her hands.
Owen burst out laughing amidst his tears, and
kissed both the girls, as he said, “I can’t bear to
think you are angry with me.â€
“There, never mind !†exclaimed Lucy, running
into the adjoining room, and returning with a wet
towel and hair-brush. “Let me just wipe your
- face with this now, and put your hair straight a
&8 TiIE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
bit, and then my little Cock Robin will look like
himself again.â€
As Lucy was busily engaged in rubbing the boy’s
cheeks until they were as red and shiny as the
apples in the orchard, Betty was soothing him the
while by promising to make him a nice sweet cake
directly she had got the dough in the oven.
In a few minutes the two girls had resumed their
work. Betty was burying her knuckles in the
dough, which yielded lke an air cushion to her
pressure, and Owen on a stool at Lucy’s feet, hold-
ing up the skein of white silk that she was winding
on one of “THE Misses Wynn’s
993
cards.
“Who are you making that grand cap up for,
Auntie Lucy,†inquired Owen, as he moved his
straightened hands to and fro to let the silk wind off
them.
“Tt’s Lyddy Powell’s, of the shop,†answered
Lucy. “It’s for her wedding, Owey, and here’s the
gown she’s going to be married in. “ Don’t you
think it’s sweetly pretty? Her master made her a
present of it—it’s one of the most expensive cotton
prints he had in his shop. Isn’t it a nice genteel
pattern? We were both of us up all last night
finishing it.â€
“When you are going to be married, Owen, will
you let us make your wife’s wedding dress?†asked
Betty, looking round, as she placed the large red
g@arthen pan of dough before the fire to rise,
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 89
“ Yes, that I will,†innocently responded Owen,
“because it will be for yourself.â€
“ Oh, indeed, you little fickle fellow !†cried Lucy,
laughing. “ Why you told me the other day that
you meant to have me. JI shall be nice and
jealous.†|
“Well then, Auntie Lucy,†responded Owen,
“J’ll never marry at all, for I love you both alike.â€
“ He’sa darling!†exclaimed Betty, as she turned
back to the table; “and now I’m going to make
him the nice seed-cake I promised him, and he shall
have it not out of the oven when he goes home this
evening.â€
“Yes,†answered Lucy, “and then he can take
Betty Watkin’s loaf down to'the village for us, so as
to let her have it new for her supper. Besides, it
will save the poor old cripple the walk.â€
“To be sure,†added Betty, “and Owen can carry
her at the same time the bottle of stuff I’ve made up
for her to rub her leg with, for the old woman
says 1b gets to pain her dreadful now she grows in
years.â€
“Ah, but little Cock Robin must promise us to
take great care of it, and not to get thinking again.
on the way,†laughed Lucy. “Oh, Betty, Betty,â€
then she cried, as she glanced out of the window
towards the orchard, “just come here and look at
father yonder.â€
The sister left the cake she was vreparing, and
90 THE BOY VISITS TIE MINISTER—
ran to the casement, Owen at the same time starting
to his feet.
“Well, what will father do next with that mare !â€
exclaimed the girl, as she stretched her neck over
Lucy's shoulder. “Why, I do declare he’s giving
the creature a drink of table-beer out of our pudding
basin !â€
“And just watch the old thing!†interposed
the sister. ‘“JLsn’t she pleased? See how she’s
whisking her long tail about. JI think she dearly
loves a drop, do you know, Betty?â€
“« Ain’t they like two kittens at play, Owey?â€
asked Betty, as she pointed to her father and the
mare in the orchard.
“Yes,†replied the boy, “and isn’t he a kind old
man to be so good to the animal? He's had her
ever since she was a colt, hasn’t he, Auntie ?â€
« Ay, that he has, and now the poor old creature
has got scarcely a tooth in her head, and is nearly
as blind as a bat in the daylight,†returned the
girl. |
“Oh, yes,†repeated Owen, “Mr. Wynn is very
kind—very. I remember he told me a long time
ago it was by kindness all animals were tamed,
and that they were only savage because they were
afraid we intended to hurt them, and they were
obliged, for their own protection, to be always on
their guard. But directly we taught them, by
being continually kind to them, we didn’t mean to
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 91.
harm them, and that they were quite safe with us,
and were fed by us instead of being ill-treated,
they all became as gentle as cats, which, I recollect,
he said were the most savage animals—kinds of
tigers, I think—in a wild state.
‘‘ There’s a good tender-hearted little fellow,†cried
both the girls, as they kissed him one after the
other. “Very nicely said too, Owen.â€
“Yes, Owen,†said Betty, “there’s no power like
kindness in all the world. We may force both
men and beasts to do what we want through fear,
but then they are always ready to deceive us. By
treating them kindly, however, we make friends of
them, and then they are anxious to serve us of their
own free will, even before we desire it.â€
Encouraged by the precepts of the gentle girl,
Owen told her he had brought something to show
Mr. Wynn—something he had been writing “out
of his own head.â€
“ Youve been writing something out of your own
head!†echoed the astonished Betty. “ Let me see it,
do.†Whereupon the two sisters pressed round the
boy in their eagerness to discover the subject of his
work. |
Owen drew the copy-book from his pocket, and
having handed it to them, the girls held it be-
tween them, and ran their eyes over it hastily —
together. | |
“J don't understand a bit about it,†said Lucy,
92 THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
“but I dare say father will. Jl run and call him
to you.â€
“ Isn’t he clever?†whispered Betty in her sister’s
ears, as they both stood at the door.
“Father! father!†shrieked Lucy, running in
pursuit of her parent, and dodging under the boughs
of the trees, as she went, “here’s little Owen
Evans come to see you.â€
In a few minutes the girl came tripping back to
the kitchen, crying, “Owen! father says you are to
goto him. You'll find him down by the cherry-
tree. You're to take with you what you want him
to read, and a couple of chairs as well.â€
When the boy had left, Lucy returned to her seat
at the window to finish the wedding cap, and as she
fashioned the white satin. bows, she cast her eyes
occasionally to the end of the orchard, where she
could just see the old man and the little boy, their
figures dusked by the shadow of the tree under
which they were sitting.
“ There’s father kissing little Cock Robin, Betty!
and now he’s rubbing his old spectacles with that
bit of wash leather he always carries in his pocket.
I can teil what he’s doing as well as if I was leaning
over his shoulder. I do wish he would wear some-
thing besides that old straw hat, Betty, when he’s at
home. I can’t bear to see him in it.â€
“Yes,†said the sister, “when we get paid for
Lyddy Powell’s things, well buy him a nice black
oes
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. ga
velvet skull-cap next time we go to Brecon. I’ve
seen them marked up very cheap at ‘ Lonpon
Hovss,’ in the High-street there.â€
“ Now father’s patting Owen on the head, Bettyâ€
continued Lucy, as she stopped sewing and gave a
fresh glance towards the couple. “ He’s very pleased
with the little fellow’s work, I know, for that was
always his way with us.â€
“TY do think he’s as proud of that boy as if he was
one of his own,†the sister exclaimed.
“ And now he’s taken him up on his knee,†added
Lucy, looking side-ways, like a bird, towards the
orchard again, “and he’s put his arm round his
neck.â€
“Ah! he wont be able to bear Owen’s weight
long,†remarked Betty, “for father isn’t half as
strong as he was a year or two back.†|
Then came a short pause.
Presently Lucy cried, as she glanced from her
work once more towards the end of the orchard, “TI
wonder what's the matter now! Here comes
Master Owen, tearing and skipping cver the grass
like our Jessie used when she was a young foal.
He’s as pleased as Punch, I can see!â€
In another moment the boy bounded into the
room, his cheeks flushed crimson with excitement,
saying, “If you please, Auntie Lucy, Mr. Wynn
says will you give me one of the volumes of the
Rees’ a—a—-I forget the other name â€
94 THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
“ Cyclopeedia,†interposed Lucy.
“Yes, that’s it! out of the sitting-room,†added
Owen. “It’s the volume containing the letter M
he wants, please Auntie.â€
As Lucy stepped into the adjoining room to fetch
the book, Betty ran towards the boy and inquired,
“ What did father say to your -work, Owen ?â€
“Oh, he said it was a wonderful thing for me to
do all by myself,’ answered the delighted boy.
“ And what do you think, Auntie? hetold me I was
just like father—he did indeed, indeed. And now
he’s going to read, and explain to me all about
mechanics out of the big book that father got his
learning from. Isn’t it good of him ?â€
“ There, take care of it,†said Lucy, as she returned
with the heavy volume and placed it in the boy’s
arms. “Mind you don’t fall down with it as you
go, or else father would never forgive you; for it was
given to him by his godmother when he took his
degree at Lampeter College, and she was own cousin
to the gentleman who wrote it. Mustn’t he have
been a clever man, Owey, to do all that ?â€
_ The boy was too impatient to stay to answer
Lucy, and had no sooner got the huge book under
his arm than back he scampered, eager to com-
pare the discoveries he had made, as to the power
of the lever, with what was printed in the book his
father had studied from. |
At length the volume was spread open in the
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 95
Parson’s lap, and the lad was kneeling by his side,
looking over the page as the old man read aloud, ex-
plaining the difficult passages and “hard words†as
he went. And when Owen found that he was right
in all the facts he had set down, the little fellow’s
heart throbbed audibly, and looking up in the
minister’s face, he said, as his eyes almost filled with
tears, “Oh, isn’t it a pleasure to find we're right,
Mr. Wynn?â€
“Jt is, my lad,†the parson replied, “when we
delight in the right merely for the right’s sake, and
not because it makes us proud of our own petty
powers. I hope éhat is not the cause of the pleasure
you say you feel, Owen.â€
“Oh no, sir; the reason why I am so happy,â€
returned the little fellow, “is because, far from being
proud, I was doubtful of my own powers, and what
I have done serves to give me some little trust in
myself, But why is it wrong, Mr. Wynn, to be
proud?†inquired Owen.
“ Because, my boy,†answered the minister, “it
makes us despise all those whom we, in our stupid
conceit, fancy to be inferior to ourselves. Then,
again, pride is invariably the result of ignorance.
The proud man has his eyes always. turned to the
earth, and seeing only those things that are beneath
him, gets to fancy himself something vastly superior
to the worms at his feet; whereas the humble man
looks upward ever, and with his eyes fixed upon
96 THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
perfection, feels how small and insignificant a crea-
ture he must be in the eyes of the Omniscient. A
man, proud of his little knowledge, Owen, is like the
owl who begins to see in the dusk, and mistakes the
darkness for the daylight; but the man humiliated
by his learning is like the same bird in the sunshine
—the excess of light serving only to make Nature
appear still dimmer to him.â€
Then the Parson proceeded to read to the boy
about levers, and. wheels, and axles, and pulleys, and
inclined planes, and wedges, and screws, explaining
to. him, by familiar illustrations, the law which
regulated the increase of power in each of them.
And when he had brought the little lecture toa
conclusion, he pointed out to Owen that there was
but one rule governing the whole, namely, that the
gain of power was always in proportion to the loss
of speed; and that for a lighter force to lift a
heavier, it was necessary, in all cases, that the
heavier should rise just as many times slower as its
weight was greater than the lighter one, adding,
that a machine—no matter whether it consisted of
levers, wheels, pulleys, inclined planes, wedges, or
screws—was chiefly an instrument for attaining
such an end.
“Oh, yes I understand it all thoroughly, thank
you, sir,†said Owen, when the clergyman had
finished. “I never thought about the inclined
plane before, but now I see that it’s only another
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. oT
means of doing the same thing as the lever does in
another way—that is of making a lighter weight fall
quicker than a heavier one rises, and so enabling
the less to lift the greater one. Oh, yes, I see it all
clearly now, Mr. Wynn, and I shall never forget it,
I am sure,†and in his excitement Owen rose and
began half dancing, while he added, triumphantly,
“T know all about mechanics now.â€
“ Nay, nay,†said the minister, smiling at the self
satisfaction of the boy; “not quite so quick, my
little man. If I’m not much mistaken, you know
very little about the matter.â€
Owen looked confusedly at his tutor. |
“You know, lad, only about the dead inert
instruments that are used to modify the forces that
put them in motion,†answered the clergyman, re-
proving the little ebullition of boyish pride ; “ but
of the forces themselves, sir, what do you know ?
and with them is the high knowledge, after all, Owen.
The machines, boy, are of the earth, earthly ; but the
forces that quicken them come from the Great
Fountain of all power, and turn the mind to
Heaven, filling it with higher and nobler thoughts.â€
The clergyman was delighted as he watched the
eyes of the boy wander in his amazement to and fro.
He could see he had opened a new vein of thought
in the youth’s mind, and it was one that the minister
felt far more pleasure in working, than that with
which they had been previously engaged. To say
EH
98 THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
the truth, Mr. Wynn had but little love of seience
in his soul, and he delighted to travel from the
physical to the metaphysical, that is to say, from
the ordinary operations of nature to the subtle and
mysterious principles which are concerned in pro-
ducing them. It was this quality of his character
that had made him instil into Owen’s father a sense
of the superiority of the principle of faith to that of
reason as a guide to knowledge ; for he was fearful,
lest the untutored mind, whilst contemplating the
mechanism of the universe, should, in the rapture of
its first perception of the beauty and order of crea-
tion, ignore the powers of the Great Artist who
designed and perfected the whole. Science to Parson
Wynn was but the translation of the physical
Bible, the deciphering of the will of the Almighty
as written in the heavens, the air, the earth, the
waters, and the creatures that live and breathe
therein. And he cared far less for the physical
happiness that a knowledge of the laws governing
the elements was the means of rendering humanity,
than he did for the spiritual elevation it had the
power of producing. In a word, he loved the poetry
of science as much as he despised, and indeed
dreaded, the literality of it.
“The forces!†echoed the bewildered Owen; “TI
never thought of them.†|
“And yet,†returned the minister, smiling, “you
say you know all about machines now. Like the
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 99
short-sighted owl I told you about, Owen, you
mistake the dusk for the daylight. Every machine
requires some force to drive it. When once
set in motion, the instrument is governed by
regular laws, modifying either its power, its speed,
or its natural course; but the great question is,—
what is the nature of the wondrous principle that.
primarily moves it ?â€
Mr. Wynn looked at Owen, and paused again for
awhile to watch the workings of the lad’s brain
through his eyes.
Owen said not a word.
“The great forces of the world, my little man,â€
continued the minister, “to which humanity is
indebted for all that is produced, and every change
that is wrought without and within us, are as
numerous as they are various. |
“ First there is the wind which turns the mills
that grind our corn, and drives the ships that bring
us the luxuries and comforts of other lands; and
which here fans us with its breezes, and there
devastates cities, or laysa forest like a field of corn,
with its hurricanes.
“Secondly, there is the power of the water, at
one time refreshing the earth with the bubbling up
of its springs, and at another deluging it with the
outpouring of its torrents; and this power again
is used not only to grind our corn, and to work the
machines by which our clothes are spun aud woven
H 2
100 THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
——the timber sawn wherewith to build our houses—
and many a like service rendered us; but also to
give an irresistible hydraulic pressure even to the
energy of a child, and to carry our vessels, by
means of the locks to our canals, up some steep
declivity.
“Then comes fire—the force to which we owe
some of our greatest benefits and some of our
greatest evils. It is this which expands the water
into the steam that drives the many engines in our
towns now-a-days. It is this that impels our car-
riages across the land with the rapidity of a whirl-
wind, and our vessels across the seas despite of
adverse winds. It is this force again, which, acting
on gunpowder, breaks up huge rocks into workable
stones, and gives a deadly speed to the bullets and
balls which nations use in warfare to destroy one
another. And it is this same force which, diffused
in the sunbeams from above, quickens the be-
numbed vegetation, pushing forth the buds, expand-
ing the flowers, and ripening the fruit and grain on
which we live; and which, imprisoned in the bowels
of the earth, bursts forth in burning fountains from
volcanoes, and floods the soil around with red-hot
streams of liquid lava.
“Next comes gravitation, drawing down the
weights of our clocks, and forcing up our balloons,
and keeping every thing fixed in its place to the
_ earth, and above all, producing not only the tides, but
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES, 101
the wonderful revolutions of the planets and the
stars, even to the remotest corners of the heavens.
“ And after that, we have the wondrous and subtle
power of electricity, as seen in the lightning ; this,
man has already trained to carry his messages with
the speed of the light over the land and under the
water, as well as to work the metals for him, to move
his time-pieces, and to guide him by means of the
littlemagnet’s unerring finger acrossthe pathless seas.
“Then follows the force of elasticity, which men
in olden times availed themselves of to drive the
arrows from their bows, but which serves us now for
kindlier purposes, making the strings of our musical
instruments vibrate, and giving power to the springs
of the little watches we carry about us. It is to
this force too that we owe the rebound and play of
the various gases and vapours in the atmosphere
around us.
** There is also the force of cohesion, from which
every material that we use either in our buildings
or our machines derives its strength; as well the
force of crystallization, binding together the parts
of some rocks, separating and so breaking up others,
and (as in the crystallizing, or ‘freezing’ as it is
termed, of water) rending pipes, spitting trees, and
crumbling the soil.
‘And again, there is the force of what is called
chemical affinity—which ; is the power that produces
every change, and every fresh combination among
102 THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
the elements round about us; making the fire burn,
rusting the metals, dissolving the rocks, feeding
the plants, and even sustaining the life that is
within us.
“And lastly, we have the force of animal life
itself—the most wondrous of all—without which it
- would be impossible for us to make a single move-
- ment, and to which we owe not only the benefits we
derive from our own exertions, but all those man
reaps from the many beasts of burden he has trained
to serve him—the ox that treads out the corn ; the
mule that carries the mountain pack ; the deer that
draws the snow-sledge; the camel that bears the
traveller across the desert ; the horse that moves our
carts and carriages.â€
“Dear, dear!†said Owen, when the long cata-
logue was ended. ‘I sha’n’t be able to remember
it half. What a deal there is to be learnt. I
shall never know as much as you do, Mr. Wynn. I
thought when you had read to me about mechanics
IT understood all about powers and forces, and
now I see I understand little or nothing about the
matter.â€
“Ay, my boy,†responded the minister, ‘the
more we know the more there seems for us to know.
The circle of knowledge is very much like the
horizon, Owen. The ignorant man thinks there
is nothing beyond what he sees; but the wise
one knows that, travel towards the limits of that
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 103
circle as far as he will, he will never get. to the
end of it.â€
“But do tell me, Mr. Wynn,†interrupted the
eager boy, “what 2s a force?â€
“That is more than I can do, lad,†replied the
clergyman. “All I can tell you is, that it is not
matter. By that I mean it is not solid, nor heavy,
nor has it length, breadth, or thickness, like the
ground and stones at one’s feet; and yet some
force is the cause of solidity, heaviness, exten-
sion, and every other property of matter besides.
You cannot have a pint of a force, Owen, nor yet a
yard of one, nor yet a pound. The principles that
give power to the elements in the world without are
something as subtle and mysterious as that which
quickens and strengthens you yourself. All the
wisest of us can do is to give this same force a
name, and call it ‘spirit,’ so as to distinguish it from
the ‘ stocks and stones’ which would remain for ever
immovable without it.â€
“ Force is spirit, then,†mused Owen.
“ Look you!†continued the minister, as he rose
from his seat and picked up a stone from the
ground. ‘“ Here is a dull, dead lump of matter ;
place it where you will, there it must remain to all
time, unless stirred by some force, for it has no
power to move itself. Now, see, Owen! I jerk my
arm suddenly, and away the dull dead stone flies
through the air like a bird, instinct with a deter-
104 THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
mination to proceed in the course in which I pro-
pelled it.â€
“How strange!†cried Owen, as he watched the
missile dart over the trees. “I’ve thrown many a
stone, and yet never thought why it moved before.â€
“What did the stone get from me, lad?†in-
quired Mr. Wynn. “Say that I injected into it
some subtle fluid or ‘ether,’ as it is termed; but
this will not help you, for the subtlest fluid is buta
light gas after all, and gas is only solid matter in
the form of vapour, and therefore dead and inactive
as the stone itself So you see, Owen, the only
thing the stone could have got from me was force,
and force, as I told you, is spirit.â€
“Was your spirit in the stone, then?†asked
Owen.
“Part of it most assuredly was,†replied the
minister. “ Did not I determine it should go in the
direction I flung it, and was it not quickened with
the same determination immediately it left my
hand ?â€
“That it was,†said the perplexed lad.
“ A force, then, Owen, would appear to be simply
a determination—or inclination, if you please’—
remarked the clergyman, “given to a body to act in
a particular manner. Consult what force you will,
it merely amounts to this. Now determination or
inclination are the terms we give to the operations
_ of our will, so that we must conclude that force is the
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 109
result of will. But matter, being dead and inactive,
can have no will of its own : hence, whatever force
resides in it must have arisen from the will of some
one else having been impressed upon it, precisely
in the same manner, lad, as you saw my will just
now impressed upon that stone.â€
“T begin to see,†said Owen, thoughtfully. “The
wind has a force because it has had some will given
to it. But whose will, sir?â€
“The will, my little man,†said the minister, in a
kindly voice, “of that Great Being who willed the
light and the ight came.â€
“Qh! sir,†exclaimed Owen, “you have filled my
mind with thoughts that almost overpower me. So
all the many wonderful forces you spoke of just now
are merely the workings of God’s will ?â€
“You are right, my good boy,†murmured the
minister, as he let his hand fall on Owen’s shoulder.
“God not only created the world by His will, but it is
His will that upholds and sustains it to this day—
prolonging Creation, as it were, by the continuance
of the very power that called it into action. The
Almighty, you see, Owen, did not create the world
and then leave it to follow out the laws He had
impressed upon it, but His will is still active every-
where, and to be perceived in everything; in the
lightning and in the sunshine—in the streamlet, the
dewdrop, and the ocean—the summer breeze and
devastating whirlwind—in the sprouting seed, the
106 THE BOY VISITS THE MINISTER—
opening flower, and the leafless forest—the falling
stone and the revolving planets—in the change of
the seasons, the succession from day and night, and
the transition from life to death—all are the results
of the will of Him, the Great Fountain of every
force without and within us.â€
Owen was lost in contemplation for awhile.
Presently he exclaimed, “I shall now see God in
everything.†And as he threw his arms about the
good man’s neck, he added, “ Oh, you’ve made me so
happy, Mr. Wynn. I’ve never felt like this before.
J can’t tell you what I mean. I don’t know the
words to use, like you, sir, but I feel my thoughts
lifted far away till it seems almost as if I was up
amongst the stars. I shall never forget what you’ve
told me to-day—never.†Then the boy let his head
fall on the minister’s shoulder, as if entranced with
his meditations.
“You can now see, I dare say, Owen,†returned
the clergyman, “that the law of the lever and the
inclined plane is but the Almighty’s will expressed
in those instruments.†|
“Yes, of course it is,†murmured the boy, as he
raised his head and withdrew himself abstractedly
from the minister. “ Will you let me go home now,
Mr. Wynn. I'll come again to see you soon, but at
present I’m so confused, I hardly know what I say.
I should like to go home and be quiet.â€
Parson Wyan was too pleased with the evidence
WHAT COMES OF THROWING STONES. 107 -
of the impression his precepts had made upon the
boy to seek to interfere with his desires, so telling
him he should like to see him again soon, and to hear
how he progressed with his studies, he accompanied
Owen to the cottage, and told his firls that the little
fellow was going home.
“Oh, dear!†they both cried, “I thought we
should have had him to tea.â€
“Whatever have you been doing with him, father ?â€
said Betty, drawing Owen to her side, and kissing
him again and again; “he looks quite an altered
boy.†Se
“Yes,†chimed in Lucy, “and little Cock Robin
was so merry when he left us.â€
The girls soon perceived by their father’s look
that he did not wish them to press their inquiries ;
so packing old Betty Watkin’s loaf and Owen’s own
seed-cake in a little basket, they took an affectionate
leave of the lad, and watched him saunter home-
wards aiong the lane, with his eyes bent upon the
ground.
“What is the matter with the child, father?
Betty and Lucy inquired, as they returned to the
kitchen.
“The little fellow, my girls, has learnt,†replied
the minister, “to find ‘sermons in stones, and Gop
in. everything.’ â€
CHAPTER IV.
THE BOY TRIES TO MAKE A CLOCK, AND HAS &
TALK WITH THE MASTER OF THE MILL ABOUT
CLOCK-WORK.
As Owen journeyed back from the parsonage, he
knew as little of the way he went as when he came.
He was busy all the while revolving in his mind the
subtle lesson he had been taught by the minister.
The boy had learnt, for the first time, that there
were other things in the world besides what he
could see and feel, and that these constituted the
most wonderful and mysterious part of creation.
“The force which moves me,†he mused, while
remembering what the clergyman had told him, “ag
I walk along now, 1s spirit, and without this spirit
my body would be like that stone. Yes, it must be
so! I remember poor mother as she lay in her
coffin, the last time I ever looked upon her. When
T touched her hand, it was as cold as the stone itself,
and, oh, so heavy !—as I took it up it fell from mine
like a dead weight would have done. How different
‘to when she was alive! When I touched her hand
~.
THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES TO MAKE A CLOCK. 109
then, it pressed mine and curled about my neck, and
hugged me to her with a force that made my heart
leap again. Yet when she was dead, poor thing!
there she lay, the same in body but without the
same spirit to move her. Zhat was the only differ-
ence between her dead and her living, and yet how
great a difference it was to me. Nothing I
could see or feel had gone, and yet all had fled that
made that form my mother. How strange I could
not think of this then.â€
The trees that arched above the lane rustled with
the passing breeze, and turned the lad’s thoughts into
another channel. As he saw the shadows of the
leaves that mottled the ground dancing among the
sun-drops at his feet, he stood still, and looking
upwards said: “What is it makes those branches
swing in the air, but the Great Spirit, who, as
Mr. Wynn said, is the Fountain of all Power?â€
When he had reached the end of the shady lane,
and looked down into the valley beneath, the boy,
intent on discovering everywhere some instance of
the principle which absorbed his whole thoughts,
paused for a while to note the forces that gave life to
the scene before him. First he tracked the little
brook winding through the thick dark wood that,
like a mass of nodding plumes, overhung the dingle ;
he beheld the distant streamlet, narrow as a silver
riband, twisting and turning as it traversed the
thicket, now lost among the foliage, now beaming
110 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
in the sunshine, like a plate of mother-of-pearl
iridescent with its many colours, and now white as
a snow-drift as it tumbled headlong over the brown
rocks,
Then he glanced at the fields of ripe corn undu-
lating in the breeze, like a sea of gold, and watched
the reapers in some, their figures half hidden
among the ears, and the tall stalks falling around
them as they went; while in others that were
tufted over with many a sheaf, he saw the high-
piled wagon, with its long team, go tottering
through the gate, the yellow load swaying to and
fro on its way. |
Next, he marked the sails of the towering wind-
mill flashing in the sun, and their long black |
shadows flitting, as the wings revolved, across the
hill-side meadow that sloped before it.
After this he noted the white round masses of
clouds above him—heaped up and dazzling as if
they were mounds of snow sparkling in the sun-
shine—go drifting across the blue lake of the
heavens, and shading the fields below for a mo-
ment, as they swept over them, like a passing
memory. And he beheld the thin grey smoke
rising straight up from the cottage beside the dingle,
- and filming the foliage like a veil of the thinnest
gauze before the trees.
~The little lark, too, he saw bound from the
corn-fields high into the air, carolling joyously
TO MAKE A CLOCK, ill
as it fluttered up and up, and the white-bellied
swallows skimming and circling over the surface
of the river, with the cattle drinking at the pool,
their legs half hidden by the stream, and the reflec-
tion of their brown and white forms tinting the
water beneath them.
Then, as the breeze blew towards him, he could
just catch the ring of the blacksmith’s hammer on
the anvil, the throbbing of the clothier’s water-
wheel, mingled with the shouts of the village
children, and now and then the tinkling of some
mountain sheep-bell. |
As Owen observed all these signs of motion and
life, he could not help thinking of the many various
forces that he now knew were necessary to animate
the busy scene. And he wondered how he could
have lived so long, seeing only those things that
were palpable to his senses, and failing to perceive.
the mighty and mysterious power without which all
things must have remained as dull and. motionless
as the rocks about him. |
This truth once impressed upon his mind, the boy
could think of-nothing else all that day and a good
part of the night too, for in the change from light
to darkness he traced the same Almighty power at:
work. As he watched the moon rise in the heavens
he lay awake thinking of the Great Spirit that.
moved it; and when he beheld the stars come
peeping out, one after another, through the blue
112 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
vault above, he speculated, in his own simple way,
upon the Omnipotence of Him whose Will moves
and governs all things.
Next day, however, when Owen rose, boy-like, his
mind was filled with a new thought. He was
determined to put his mechanical knowledge to some
practical test, and it struck him that the best thing
for him to make would be a clock.
It would be so nice to have a time-piece in his
own room, the little fellow thought; for then he
would be certain when it was five in the morning,
without listening for Jack at the kitchen door; for
the knowing brute was the chief guide as to the hour
he had now. It was true in summer Owen knew the
time by the place of the long shadow from the
spruce-tree that skirted the meadow facing their
cottage. But then he had noticed that the shadow
did not fall across the same part of the road as the
days shortened and lengthened, and it cost him no
little trouble to make due allowance for the difference ;
while in the winter he was in the habit of telling
when the hour arrived for him to get up by the
setting of one of the bright stars behind the western
edge of the Garth on the other side of the river;
but this again he could do only when the weather
_ ‘was clear and frosty.
Accordingly, it did not take him long to deter-
mine that it would be much better to have a clock
TO MAKE A CLOCK. | 113
of his own making; for it would be so pleasant, he fan-
cied, to watch the rod that hung at the back of it
swing to and fro, and hear it “tick†and “ tick†till it
lulled him to sleep in the bright summer evenings.
Owen was busy the whole of that day planning
the machinery for carrying out his project. He
was anxious to contrive it all himself. When
Roger Wilkins had told him to put his finger on
the top wheel of the Dutch clock in the factory, the
boy had just had time to notice the arrangement of
the works, and he wanted to see whether he knew
enough about mechanics now to be able to make a
timepiece like the clothier’s; so, though he felt
tempted again and again to run round to the mill and
ask Mr. Wilkins to let him have another peep at
the wheels, his desire to accomplish the task with-
out the least assistance was too strong to allow him
to do so. Indeed, Owen was naturally of too
inventive a turn of mind to sink without a struggle
into a mere copyist.
“The short hand,†he said to himself, as he bit
the end of the pencil he had procured in order to
sketch down the plan, “goes round once every
twelve hours, and the long hand once every hour ;
so the one hand revolves twelve times as. quick
as the other.†hat he could easily manage. He'd »
make a big wheel with a heavy weight to pull it
round, and it should have twelve times as many
teeth round it as a small one had, and then of course
I
114 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
the small wheel would turn twelve times as fast as
the big one did.
_ This at first appeared to Owen to be all that
was required. But presently he began to asl. him-
self how he was to prevent the weight descend-
ing at too great a rate, for upon this he soon saw
the whole depended. “If the weight falls too
quickly,†he said, “the hour hand will move too
fast, and then the minute hand will do the same, of
course. I see,†the lad cried, “everything rests
upon the rate with which the weight descends.
And how am I ever to make a weight fall as
regularly as the clock should go.â€
For awhile Owen remained silent, brooding over
the problem.
In a few minutes, however, it struck him that if
he was to double the weight, it would fall as quick
again, and that if he halved the weight, it would
fall only half as quick. So he thought all he had
to do was to adjust the weight to the rate at which
the wheels were to turn.
Still, after some further reflection, the boy was
far from satisfied that the increasing or decreasing
of the weight, according as the hands moved too
slow or too fast, would have the desired effect.
“A leaf,†argued Owen, “doesn’t fall to the
ground at the same rate as a stone, certainly. But
then,†he added, “the leaf does not fall straight
down ; for it seems to be blown about by the aly,
TO MAKE A CLOCK. 115
and so it must take a longer time to reach the
earth. Now, suppose I was to take a small stone
and a big stone,†the boy went on reasoning to
himself, “would the big one fall quicker than the
small one? I should fancy it would, because a
heavier weight must have more power than a lighter
one. But there's no use fancying,†he said, rising
from his seat, and throwing the pencil down on the
table, “the best way is to try whether it will or
no.†| _
Accordingly, Owen hurried off to the well; for
that seemed to him the best place for performing
the experiment. There having provided himself
with a large stone and a small pebble, he was as-
tonished to find, on letting them fall, both together,
from his hand, that the two struck the water at
one and the same time.
This was a new source of wonder to the little
fellow’s inquiring mind, and to convince himself of
the fact he repeated the experiment again and again,
each time varying it in some slight form.
At first he searched about for eleven pebbles that
were each, as near as he could judge, of the same
weight. Then having tied ten of them together
in a piece of paper, he let the packet of pebbles and
the single one fall at the same moment, and found
precisely the same result produced—the time occu-
_ pied in the descent of both being equal. .
Then he went in quest of eleven more pebbles,
12
116 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
each alike in weight, and let them drop, all together,
loosely from his hand. Still there was no difference
in the effect ; as he craned his neck over the edge of
the well, he could perceive every one of them dimple
the waiter at the same moment.
“T see how it is now,†he said to himself, as he
turned from the well and proceeded homewards.
“The big stone that I let drop at first was about ten
times as heavy as the little one, and so was like ten
little stones made into one, just the same as when I
tied the ten pebbles in a packet together. Now
there’s nothing very strange in the fact that one
stone of the same weight as another should take the
same time to fall through the same distance. Then
if two stones do this, why ten or twenty, or a hundred
stones, of the same weight, would do so too; and it’s
no matter whether the stones be separate, or all made
into one big and one little one, for it can only be the
same number of stones after all. It wouldn’t have
made any difference either, I can tell, if I had used
pound weights instead of stones, for a weight of a
hundred pounds can only be made up of a hundred
different pounds; and as each of those pounds, if
they were all separate, would fall to the ground at
the same time as another pound, why of course
they must do the same when they are made up all
together into one heavy weight.
“So then,†murmured Owen, “here’s another
wonderful thing I’ve found out.
TO MAKE A CLOCK, 117
fali to the earth at the same rate as a hundred-
weight, for if the hundredweight was a hundred.
weight of feathers, of course every one of the feathers
in the hundredweight would fall at the same time as
each by itself would. It’s only because light bodies
float in the air that they take longer to go through
it than heavy ones. If we could only take away the
air, why then the lightest would reach the ground
at the same time as the heaviest, I’m sure of that
39
now.
{??
“Tsn’t it wonderful!†he cried, walking quicker
ad quicker, as he grew more and more delighted
with the strangeness of the discovery. “I never
would have believed it if I hadn’t tried it, and I’m
sure I should never have dreamt of trying it if it
hadn’t been for making the clock.â€
The idea of the clock had no sooner crossed his
mind again, than his thoughts reverted into their
former channel.
“ Now,†mused the lad, “if great weights fall at
the same rate as small ones, how would it be pos-
sible for me to make the wheels of the clock move
round-as regularly as the hours go on.’
Then, as he turned his steps towards the dingle, i in-
stinctively seeking out some sequestered spot where
~ he might qujetly ponder over the problem, he busied
himself, as he sauntered along, with devising a
variety of projects by which he fancied the desired
end might be attained.
118 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
Té struck the boy that, as the air retarded the
descent of bodies, it might be possible to make the
weight of the clock fall at the proper rate by meang
of a wheel with fans to it, that should press against
the air as the wheels revolved. Still the boy saw
no means of regulating such an apparatus easily;
so he fancied it would be better and simpler to put
a drag upon the wheel, as he had seen the wagoner
do to prevent the wagon descending the hill too
rapidly. After a few moments’ reflection, however,
he thought there would be the same difficulty with
this as with the other. It would cost him no end
of trouble to adjust the motion by such means.
Suddenly Owen remembered that at the back of
Roger Wilkins’ clock there was a rod with a round
weight at the bottom of it, that kept swinging to
and fro as the clock ticked. He stood still as
he asked himself what could be the use of that, and
wondered whether it was intended to make the
wheels move at a proper rate.
‘‘Tt must be so,†he said ; “ but how can that do it?â€
The little fellow puzzled himself with his en-
deavours to understand the use of the pendulum
until he was fairly worn out. .It was beyond his
simple powers to comprehend; so, at length, when
he had grown fidgetty with his inability to account
for its action, he determined upon going to the mill
and asking Roger Wilkins to explain it to him.
As Owen journeyed towards the little factory, he
was delighted to find that the mill had ceased work-
TO MAKE A CLOC. 11
ing, and he remembered then that he had heard
his father say there wasn’t enough water in the
stream to drive the big wheel. This gave the little
fellow courage, and he quickened his pace, anxious.
to avail himself of the clothier’s leisure.
The lad found Roger Wilkins alone, enjoying his.
pipe at the factory door, his wife having availed her-
self of the holiday to go over to Brecon “shopping,â€
and taken the boys with her. Owen had no sooner
explained the cause of his visit than the clothier,
delighted to foster a talent in any way connected with
machinery, led the lad inside the little building,
and taking down the clock proceeded to explain to
him the use of its several parts.
“So you want to know about the pendulum, Owen,
do you inquired Roger; “and you thought you
could make a clock without one, eh? That wowd
have been clever, lad! for shall I tell you what a
clock is? Why, do you know, a clock is only a piece of
_ machinery for marking the number of swings made by
_ & pendulum—or rod as you call it—and for forcing
the pendulum at the same time to keep on swinging.
This heavy weight here, you see, makes the clock go;
that is to say, it makes the pendulum continue to
_ move backwards and forwards; but it’s the pen-
dulum itself, my lad, that keeps the time. Look at
this,†he continued; “I'll take the pendulum off,
Do you hear, Owen, at what a rate it’s running?
‘Tick! tick! tick! tick? it goes. Why it’s more
like calling pigs than beating seconds!â€
120 TIIE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
The boy laughed at the clothier’s illustration, and
asked—*“ Does the pendulum, then, beat only once
every second, Mr. Wilkins?’
“Yes, my lad,†answered Roger; “and now, of
course, little Mr. Inquisitive, you want to know
why it does that? Well, I’ve a little story to
tell you on that point. JI know you like stories
about inventions and discoveries, and so do I, Owen.
I remember many of the wonderful things that
have been found out merely by the stories about
them. :
“Well!†proceeded Roger Wilkins, as he filled a
fresh pipe, and seated himself on the edge of the
carding machine, “you must know that nearly
three hundred years ago there was a young Italian
student, named Galileo Galilei. He lived to be a
great philosopher afterwards. It was he who put
together the first telescope—that’s a kind of spy-
glass for looking at the stars, and making them seem
ever so much nearer—and it was with this he dis-
covered that one of the stars, called Jupiter, has
got four moons to it, Owen—four moons! just think
of that, and we've only one.â€
“ Dear, dear!†exclaimed the enraptured boy.
“Well, when he was a youngster of nineteen,â€
babbled on the clothier, “and had just returned
from college—where his father couldn’t keep him any
longer, because he was too poor—young Galileo hap-
pened one day to enter the cathedral of Pisa—that
was the town in Italy where he lived, and indeed,
TO MAKE A CLOCK, — 121
where he was born. Then walking down the middle
of the church, he noticed one of the lamps swinging —
it was suspended by a long cord from the high roof
—and it struck him, as the motion grew less and less,
_ that, no matter whether the distance the lamp went
was great or small, it swung backwards and forwards
in the same period. So what did he do but set to
work to timy its swinging by his own pulse, and he
_ found that it took just as many pulsations to go a
short distance as it did to travel a great way.
Afterwards, when he had become a great man, he
applied the knowledge he had gained in this way
to the regulation of clocks, by means of a pendulum.
“So you see, Owen,†added the clothier, “the
swings, or vibrations, as they are called, of the pen-
dulum, are all performed in equal times; that is to
say, a pendulum takes no longer to swing a mode-
rate distance than it does a short one. Now it has
been found, lad, that a pendulum a little bit more than
31 feet long, will swing once exactly every second,
or 60 times a minute; and that if the pendulum be
13 feet long, it will swing once every 2 seconds, or
but 30 times in the minute, whereas if it be only
about 92 inches long—inches, mind!—it will do so
once every half second, or as many as 120 times
every minute.†|
“ How very strange!†cried Owen, who had sat
all the while with his eyes rivetted on the clothier.
“ff never could have found that out. Mustn’t master
Gali—what’s his name?—have been clever, Mr. Wil-
122 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
kins? But what’s the reason, if you please, sir, why
the pendulum swings so regularly ?â€
“Ah, that’s more than I can tell you, boy,†answered
Roger. “It’s beyond me, for it wants a good deal
more scholarship than I’m master of to understand.*
* The reader should be warned that in order to ensure the
vibration of a body through different distances in equal times,
it is necessary that the vibrating body should describe, as it
moves, a peculiar kind of curve, called a ‘‘ cycloid,†and that
when the ordinary pendulum is made to swing a great distance,
there will be a certain difference in the time occupied by its long
and short vibrations; or, in other words, what is termed the
isochronism (from toc equal, and yoovoc time) of the pendulum
——the property by which all its vibrations, whether great or
small, are performed in exactly the same period—is true only
for moderate distances ; and it is true only for such distances,
because the pendulum in swinging describes the segment of a
ircle rather than the cycloidal curve before spoken of, and be-
cause the curve of the cycloid coincides for a short range only
with that of the circle.
A cycloid is the curved line described by any point of a circle
as it rolls along a straight line. For instance, a nail in the
rim of a cart-wheel traces a cycloid in the air as the wheel rolls
along the ground; or, if a hole be made towards the rim in
the top of a pill-box, and the point ofa pencil be introduced
therein, the pencil will, if the lid be laid flat on a sheet of
paper and made to revolve against the straight edge of a board,
trace a cycloid on the paper as the top of the pill-box rolls
along. Now the reason why the cycloid is what is termed an
isochronous curve, is that it is precisely of that form which
causes a body in descending one half of it to pass through a
long space in the same time as a short one (owing to the
increased acceleration of the force being exactly proportional to
the increased distance it has to travel), and thus the body
acquires, during its descent, sufficient force to enable it to
ascend through an equal distance along the other half of the
curve in an equal length of time.
TO MAKE A CLOCK. | 123
I only know it does so; and what’s more, that it =
requires a pendulum to be of a different length to
swing seconds at different parts of the earth, and
that if we went to Guinea in Afriky, the pendulum
must be shortened to do as much as it did in
England, for the same pendulum would give nearly
6 more swings in the hour in these parts than it would
in those ; so that a clock that went right here, would
go too slow there, unless a little bit were taken off
what you call the rod at the back. Now you mustn’t
bother me, Master Owen, with any of your questions
xbout what’s the reason of all this, for I can’t tell
you; it’s beyond my learning, as I said before. All
I know is, it depends upon what they call gravita
tion.†|
“Gravitation!†echoed the boy, thoughtfully. “¥
think that was the name of one of the forces Mr.
Wynn spoke to me about; but I don’t know what
it means.†|
“Weil, then, I'll tell you, lad,†responded Roger
Wilkins; “and there’s a little story about that, too,
which makes it all the better.â€
At the prospect of another tale, Owen sidled the
inverted hamper on which he was seated close to
Roger’s knee, and looking up, fastened his eyes
intently on the clothier.
“To begin,†said Roger, “ you must know, that
what they call gravitation, is the force which gives
weight to everything, and which makes us and
all moving creatures. stick to the ground; for if it
124 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
wasn’t for that, we should tumble right off, and fall
bump into the moon, may be.â€
“Ho! ho!†laughed the boy, “that es funny.
But it’s impossible for anything to fall upwards,
Mr. Wilkins, and the moon is above us, you know.â€
“Very good, little master Clever,†said the clothier,
as he stooped down to pat the boy on the shoulder,
“but suppose there isn’t any such thing as up or
down, no more than there is any back’ards or for-
‘ards in nature. Now look you here, I’m afore
you now, aint I? Well, turn you round,†and as
he said so, Roger twisted Owen round on the ham-
per, “and where am I then? Why behind you, to
be sure. So you see, for’ards is back’ards, all accord-
ing as youre looking. Just you give me that
ball of yarn there, out of the basket under the
loom, my little man.â€
Owen having complied with the request, the
clothier proceeded. |
“ Now this ball here, we'll call the earth, and this
pin†(he drew one from the cuff of his jacket, where
he kept a small row), “ which I stick in at the top of
tne ball, we'll call Owen Evans, and this t’other pin,
which I stick in at the bottom right under it, we'll
call my cousin Tom, who's out in New Zealand. Well,
now we'll hang the ball up to one of these straps
here, and there it is,†he added, when he had done
so, “just like the earth, with Owen Evans on one
side, and cousin Tom right under him on the tother.
Now, can’t you see, Owen, boy, down’ards to you
TO MAKE A CLOCK. 125
must be up’ards to Tom, in the same way as what's.
up ards to you is down’ards to Tom ; and that if Tom
wasn't kept in his place, why he’d fall away right
up as he would call it, for all the world as when I
Joosen the hold of this pin against the ball—away
_ tumbles cousin Tom, you see, up or down just as you
' please, master Owen.â€
“But Mr. Wilkins,†laughed the boy; “your
cousin ‘Tom would be going about with his body
hanging down, just like the flies do on the ceiling.â€
“Yes, and little Owen Evans would be doing the
same thing,†returned Roger, smiling at the humour
of the illustration,—*“ for look here, we will put one
ball down on the ground, and another right up at the
top here, close against the strap. Now, we'll suppose
the one underneath the middle ball to be the sun, and
the one up above it to be the moon, then, of course,
it’s day to cousin Tom, and night to Owen Evans.
Well, we'll stick a pin in each of them balls, and
well suppose the one te be that celebrated gentle-
man known as ‘the man in the moon, and t’other
Mr. Any-body-you-please, in the sun; well, you see
now, ‘om would certainly seem to the gentleman in
the sun, here, to be walking with his head down,
but Owen Evans, too, would look as if he was prac-
tisnmg the same difficult feat to the man in the
moon.†| |
The little fellow chuckled again with delight, as
he saw the force of the illustration, and observed
that he could now perceive that up and down were
126 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
only different ways of looking at a thing, the
same as behind and before. “ But is the earth
round like a ball, if you please, Mr. Wilkins? he
znquired.
“Yes,†returned Roger, “but we needn’t trouble
our heads about that now, for I want to -tell you
about gravitation ; and one thing at a time is my
maxim. Well, my boy,’ he proceeded, “ gravitation
is, as I said afore, the force that draws everything
down to the earth, and that keeps them there when
they are drawn down. Now I see, Owen, by the
look of you, that you don’t understand it. Well,
you'd better run into the house, and fetch me that
little magnet as I bought my Youngsters ; youll find
it in the kitchen drawer.â€
_ The lad scampered off, and returning in a minute
or two, placed the magnet in the clothier’s hands.
“This bit of iron at the end,†said Roger Wil-
kins, is what is called ‘the keeper.’ Now, we'll tie a
bit of thread to that, and hang it over one of these
pulleys, in this way,†chattered the clothier, as he -
performed the operation, “and then we'll fasten a bit
of stick to t’other end, just to balance the keeper
in the air—so, my man. Well, you see, Owen,
directly I put this magnet a little way under the
keeper, it pulls it down towards it, and makes it
descend for all the world as if it were a stone dragged
down to the earth.â€
_ “Ts the earth then a magnet 2†inquired Owen.
TO MAKE A CLOCK. 127
“That I can’t say, lad,†answered Roger, “and
‘Ididn’t mean you to take what I was saying in
that light at all ; I only wanted to give you a notion
how one thing might be attracted to another. Now,
I dare say, boy, you fancy as it was the magnet that
drew the keeper to it, and youd be astonished if I
showed you that the keeper drew the magnet as
much as the magnet drew the keeper, or what is
the same thing, that they both attracted one another.
For look you, I have only to tie the magnet to one
end of the string, instead of the keeper, and put a
heavier bit of wood at the other end to balance it
over the pulley, when you'll see if I hold the keeper
underneath, the magnet itself will be attracted. Look
you there, Owen! Didn’t you see the magnet de-
scend ?†cried Roger, as the little red horse-shoe was
drawn down to the piece of iron beneath it.
“ But surely, Mr. Wilkins, you can’t mean to say
that the stone attracts the earth as well as the earth
attracts the stone towards it?’ interrogated the
eager boy.
“Yes, I do, youngster,†retorted the clothier,
nodding his head at the little fellow ; “and the rea-
son why the stone only moves is because it’s easier
for the earth to move the stone than for the stone
to move the earth.â€
“Oh, I see what you mean now, sir, and I think
I understand it thoroughly, thank you,†said Owen,
as he pressed Roger’s hand in his.
128 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES —
‘“ Now, Owen, suppose I was to tie a number of
these magnets round a small hoop, so that the poles or
ends of em stood up all round the edge; then suppose
I was to tie some more magnets in the same manner
round another hoop, and to put the one hoop through
the t’other so that it stood right across it; and then
suppose again, | took two more hoops with magnets all
round them like the others, and passed them in the
same manner through the t’other two, so that the
whole of the hoops together, crossing one another,
should form the skeleton of a ball. Well, if I
were to cover this all over with anything, I should
have a perfect ball of magnets, you know; and then,
if we were to roll it in a lot of iron filings, we should
find the little bits of iron would cling all round
the ball, so that you might hang it up in the air
without one of them dropping off; and there you'd
have a perfect little model of the earth, with all the
things on its surface, held to it by the force of
attraction. Now do you understand it, lad? but
mind, you must remember that the earth attracts
every thing,—stones, and men, and trees, and water,
just the same as the magnets do the iron filings.â€
“Oh, yes, I understand it perfectly, Mr. Wilkins,â€
said Owen, “but please, sir, you’ve forgotten the
story.â€
“No, young Impatience, I haven’t,†replied the
clothier, good humouredly, “but I was obliged to
make you comprehend about gravitation before youd
TO MAKE A CLOCK. 129
be able to comprehend about that. Well, now, as I
think you know all concerning the force as draws
things down to the earth, and so makes them feel
heavy to us, I’m going to tell you what a boy named
Isaac Newton did, His father, you must know, was
a farmer at Woolsthrope, in Lincolnshire, and when
he was a lad he used to make models of windmills.
It was he, Owen, as invented paper kites, and
the little monkey used to take delight in sending
them up on dark nights, with a lantern at their tail,
and frightening all the villagers round about out of
their wits, by making them believe as they were
great comets. While he was at school, at Grantham,
too, he made a sun-dial by watching the movements
of the shadows throughout the day, and this was
long known in the town by the name of ‘Isaac’s
dial.’ Well, my boy, they wanted to make a farmer
of little Isaac, so he was took away from school
and sent to Grantham Market with the old farm
servant, to sell the things; but instead of striving
to get the best price for the corn and bargaining
with the cattle dealers, the young rascal used to
stay outside the town and sit under a tree by the
road-side, studying some book until the old servant
returned.†|
“Well, I do think, do you know, Mr. Wilkins,
that I should have done the same,†said the simple-
minded Owen.
“No doubt you would, you little rogue,†tittered
K
130 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
the clothier. “So one market-day, as Master Isaac
Jay stretched on a bank reading some book, a little
way out of the town, who should come by,†continued
Roger, between the puffs of his pipe, “but his uncle,
who was the rector of one of. the parishes hard by;
but the boy was so took up with what he was a-study-
ing, that he actually didn’t know any one was nigh—
right at his elbow—a-looking over his book. His
uncle was astonished to find Isaac was engaged in larn-
ing about angles and circles and such like. Luckily
though, the rector was a sensible kind of a man, so
he advised the boy’s mother and step-father (for Isaac’s
own father had been dead many years) to send him
to college, saying as a boy like him wasn’t fit to look
after ploughing and reaping and such like. Well,
Isaac went to college, and stayed there, larning and
larning, until the plague broke out—that was a dread-
ful disease, which killed thousands a week, Owen
——and then he was obliged to leave Cambridge and
go back to the farm at Woolsthorpe. Now it was
while he was there one day, sitting under one of the
trees in the orchard, that young Isaac saw an apple
drop from one of the boughs to the ground. He
knew it was gravitation as made the pippin fall; for
though some people fancy he discovered that, it wasn’t
no such thing, because the force as draws things down
to the earth was known long afore his time. Well,
Isaac says to himself, says he, as he lay in the
shade, a-twisting and a-turning the matter over in
ZO MAKE A CLOCK, 13t
his mind, ‘since it’s the attraction of the earth as
pulls that there apple down to the ground, and since
if I was to go up to the top of the highest buildings
and the peaks of the loftiest mountains the attraction
of the earth would do the same thing there, and it’s
the same force again which makes the hailstones and
the raindrops fall down from the clouds, where does it
end? And then Isaac asked himself whether there
could be any point where the attraction of the earth
would cease? and if there was no such point, why
then of course the attraction must reach to the moon,
and be pulling that down to the earth all the same
as if it were an apple or a stone.â€
“Oh! but, Mr. Wilkins, that can’t be,†cried
Owen, starting up. |
“ Yes, but it can, sir,†returned Roger, “and what’s
more, Isaac went to work and proved by figures that _
the moon 7s continually being drawn down to the
earth, and that by the very same force as draws the
stone tothe ground. He showed, too, that’s why the
moon goes on revolving and revolving round about
our globe; and not only is the force of gravitation
the cause of the moon revolving about the earth,
but he proved as it was the very same power that
made the earth itself and all the planets revolve about
the sun. But that’s not what we’re about, Owen ;â€
continued the good-humoured clothier, “I was
showing you how it’s the force of gravity as makes
Kk Q
132 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
all bodies feel heavy to us. Now it’s by the length
of the pendulum that clever men measure this force
at different parts of the earth; and strange, I dare
say, as it will seem to you, they’ve found out that
bodies get heavier as they come to us from the south,
and heavier still as they go from us towards the north ;
that is to say, a pound weight on the coast of Guinea,
in Afriky, is less than a pound weight here—so much
so indeed, that 1000 pounds in these parts would
weigh as much as 10033 pounds in those. For the
same pendulum as swings once every second there,
and so makes 86,400 such swings in a day, would,
when carried to London, make 135 more swings in
the course of 24 hours, or 86,535 in the same time.*
* The reason why the force of gravity becomes greater as we
proceed from the equator to the poles is, that the parts of the
earth’s surface at the equator revolve at the rate of about 1000
miles an hour; whereas, the poles themselves being fixed points,
or extremities of the axis on which the earth turns, can have
no revolution whatever; and the parts of a revolving body
acquire a greater or less tendency to fly from the centre, in pro-
portion to the rate of revolution. Consequently, where the
rate of revolution is the greatest, the parts of the earth must
have the least tendency towards the centre, and therefore
gravitation, (which is merely the force giving bodies at the surface
a tendency to the centre,) must be diminished in proportion as
the rate of revolution, or the force giving them a tendency to fly
from it, is increased. The amount of the force urging bodies
from the centre of the earth at the equator is found to amount
to the 289th part of their weight; or, in other words, of the
force urging them fo it. The former is called the ‘ centri-fugal
or (centre-fleeing) force,†and the latter the ‘‘centri-petal on
nenire-seeking) force.â€
TO MAKE A CLOCK. 13%
Now as it’s the force of gravitation alone, my boy,
as makes the pendulum swing, it’s very clear that
where it swings the quickest the power must be
greatest; and it’s because the pendulum swings faster —
in London than it does on the coast of Guinea, that —
the weight of a London pound must be more than —
an African one.â€*
“But, Mr. Wilkins,†said Owen, “I can’t make
out how you can tell that; for if every pound in
London is so much heavier than every pound in
Africa, how could you find out the difference?
Suppose you were to weigh a pound of sugar on the
coast of Guinea, as you call it, and to bring it
to England, it would still be a pound ; for though
it might have become heavier, the pound weight,
I suppose, would have got just as much heavier
too?â€
“ There’s a clever little man!†smiled the clothier,
“for you’re quite right in what you say, and the
difference couldn’t be come at by any such means.
* The following is the rule by which to measure the force of
gravity at any place by means of a pendulum of a certain length:
Divide the length of the pendulum by the square of, the
number of times it beats in every second, and multiply the quo-
tient by 9°8696.
To find the length of a pendulum which shall swing a cer-
tain number of times in a second, the rule is as follows:
Multiply the square of the number of seconds by 3°2616.
While to find the number of times a pendulum of a certain
length will swing in a second, —
Multiply °55372 by the square root of the length.
184 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
But suppose, Owen, we were to have a pulley rigged
up atop of a high post at the equator, and another
pulley atop of another high post at the North Pole,
with a long cord reaching from ghe one to t’other, and
an equal weight at each end of it. I say, suppose we
were able to rig up such a bit of machinery as that
_ —~for it wouldn’t be possible to do it, you see—then
we should find that the weight at the North Pole
would lift the weight at the equator, and we should
have to add the twelfth part of an ounce to each
pound at the equator to make it balance the same
number of pounds at the pole. There, give me the
chalk, and T’ll soon let you see what I mean.†Where-
upon Roger went down on his knees once more, and
described the following figure on the floor.
« “Nn ow, you see, Owey,†continued the clothier,
“that’s meant for the earth, with the pulleys I spoke
of rigged up on it—one at the equator, another at
the pole, and a third, we'll say, at London. Well,
then, if there was a cord passing over them pulleys,
TO MAKE A CLOCK, | 185
and a weight fastened at each end of it, we ‘should
find that exactly 195 pounds would be needed at
the equator to balance 194 pounds at the pole, for
every one of the pounds at the pole would be, as
T said afore, just about ;',th of an ounce heavier
than each pound at the equator. But, though 194
pounds at the pole would balance 195 pounds at
the equator, about 194 pounds 6 ounces would be
required to do the same thing at London. Now do
you understand?†oe
“Yes, I understand what you mean, sir,†returned —
the lad; “but you yourself say it wouldn’t be pos-
sible to tell the difference in weight in that way.â€.
“Very true, lad,†was the ‘reply, “but there are
other modes of weighing bodies, youisee. For in-
stance, we can find out how heavy things are by the
pressure they exert on a spring, and scales are very
often made in that way now-a-days, for they don’t
require any weights, and so come very handy. Ac-
cordingly, with a spring weighing-dial the index
would show us that a pound at the equator really
grew heavier as it was carried to’ards either of the
poles. _ Still, it’s by means of the pendulum that the -
difference in the force of gravitation at different parts
of the earth is found out, for where the pendulum
swings the fastest, as I said afore, the power must
be the greatest, since it’s only gravity as makes it
swing at all.â€
“But how is it, Mr. Wilkins,†asked Owen, “ that
136 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
the force of gravitation, as you call it, makes the
pendulum swing? for gravitation drew the apple
straight down to the earth, but the pendulum moves
backwards and forwards, and that can’t be the
same as the other.â€
“ Ah! I thought you'd be about thaé,†smiled the
clothier. “Well, now, my little fellow, I must have
a bit of chalk and a clear space—here on the floor
will do.â€
Accurdingly Roger Wilkins knelt down, and
having dusted the boards with his apron, described
the following figure, but much larger than here
represented.
“There, my lad,†said Roger, “ we'll suppose the
straight line down the middle to represent the pen-
dulum in a state of rest, and the slanting dotted
lines to be the pendulum in its two farthest posi-
tions as it swings back’ards and for’ards. I’ve
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Roger Wilkins explains the Theory of Gravitation.—P. 136,
TO MAKE A CLOCK, 137
made it three feet and a quarter long, because I
told you afore that is the length as swings once
every second in this country; and the round mark
Tve made at the end of the rod we'll imagine to
be the ‘bob, or weight. Well, now, Owen, we'll
fancy the pendulum to be lifted slightly up on one
side, and to be in the position shown by the dotted
line on the right. Then, of course, the weight
being attracted to the earth, wants to come down
to the ground, but it’s held by the rod, you know,
and this again is supported by the point it swings
upon, so that as the weight falls it is carried along
by the rod from C to B. But by the time it gets
to that point, it is plain that it has fallen from the
level of C to that of E, or, in other words, through a
perpendicular space equal to theline CE. Then the
force which it hasgot in its descent through that space
is strong enough to carry it up to an equal height
on the other side. But in ascending through this
space it has to overcome the natural tendency
of the weight to descend, so it is evident that by the
time it gets to D the whole of the force which it
had gained in falling down the first half of the curve
will have been spent in driving the weight up the
other half of it. Whereupon it will begin to fall
again, and so descend through the perpendicular
space DF; but in falling down this half of the curve
it will get force enough again to drive it up the other
half, where the acquired force being once more ex-
138 THE LOY-MECHANIC TRIES
pended, it will begin to descend a third time,
and so it will keep on swinging back’ards and for-
‘ards until the friction of the point it hangs upon
brings it to a standstill. And now, my little man,
you can perhaps see how a weight can fall down
and yet swin § back ards and fora’rds at the same
time.â€*
“Yes, Mr. Wilkins, I do, indeed,†answered the
delighted boy, “and I fancy I can almost'see, by the
motion of the pendulum, how gravitation could
make a body that was continually falling move round
in a circle, as you say Isaac Newton showed was the
case with the moon.’ |
“Well, well, we'll talk of that another time,â€
ejaculated Roger; “there's one more ‘experiment I
want to show you, and then we shall be ready to
understand all about the clock. I want to show
you, Owen, that a pendulum of a certain length
really does swing once every second. Now, what
was the length that. I said the pendulum should be
to do so?â€
“Three feet and a. †quarter,†answered Owen,
briskly, and not a little proud of his knowledge.
* Tt will be borne in mind that the isochronous property. of
the pendulum is true only for very small portions of circular
curves; the cycloidal curve alone being of such a nature that
‘the weight of the pendulum, in descending through a large are,
has its motion just as much accelerated as that are is greater
than a small one, so that it falls through long and short spaces
in the same time,
TO MAKE A CLOCK. ~ 139 |
“There's a fine little fellow,†said Roger Wilkins,
as he pressed the boy encouragingly to him,
“it’s quite a pleasure to teach an attentive lad like
you. Now let’s measure the pendulum to the
clock here. I’ve got my foot rule in my pocket,â€
he proceeded, as he withdrew the measure and ap-
plied it to the instrument. “There’s one foot,
Owey,†he said—“two foot—three foot, and three
inches just about. Now, how are we to tell at what
rate the pendulum swings?â€
“By hanging it up at the back of the clock and.
counting how many swings it makes in a minute,â€
eried Owen, as quickly as he could, for the previous
praise had made him anxious to aspay his little
knowledge once more. :
The clothier stretched out his legs, and stood
looking at the boy for a minute or two; then he
shook his head at him, and said, “No, no, sir, you're
out this time, and a good way out too, You're a
pretty fellow! you'd be putting the cart before
the horsé with a vengeance. Didn’t I tell you that
a clock was a piece of machinery merely for marking
the beatsof a pendulum, and here. you'd go and use
the clock to tell whether the pendulum beats rightly
or no! Why, if the pendulum, Owey, beats too
quick or too slow, of course the clock must go too
quick or slow as well.†- Oo |
The boy bit his fingers with vexation at the
mistake he saw he had committed.
140 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
“Well, never mind, lad,†said the good-humoured
Roger, “there's a better way of doing it by far.
You've a watch about you that'll do nicely.â€
“No, I haven’t, sir, indeed and indeed,†exclaimed
the astonished little fellow, as he instinctively looked
down towards his pockets.
“Oh, yes, you have!†returned the clothier, laugh-
ing, “you've got one in your wrist.â€
“In my wrist,†echoed Owen, almost bewildered
by the information, and turning up his cuff as if he
expected to see a pair of hands there besides his
own.
“There, there, boy, I mean your pulse,†added
Roger ; “that’s the watch Galileo used in order to time
the beats of the pendulum, when he first discovered
the law of it, and surely the same timepiece as he
worked with will answer owr purpose. Now, Owen,
well hang up the pendulum by itself on this hook,
and you shall count the vibrations up to sixty—
that'll be just a minute, you know—while I'll reckon
the beats of my pulse up to seventy-five, for that’s
the number of pulsations which occur in a full-
grown man in the same time. Mind, we must both
start at the same moment, and repeat the numbers
silently to ourselves,†said Roger Wilkins, as he
placed his fore finger on his wrist, and bade Owen ©
touch the pendulum gently and begin to count the
swings immediately it commenced vibrating.
The boy having raised the “bob†slightly on one
side, let it fall from his fingers, and the moment
TO MAKE A CLOCK. 14]
after, the lips of both Owen and Roger Wilkins
might be seen moving as the clock ticked.
“Sixty!†presently shouted Owen.
“Seventy-five!†roared Roger Wilkins, at the
same moment. “There, my boy,†he added, “we
have done what young Galileo did near upon three
hundred years ago. Well, that point is settled at
last; and all we want to understand now is, how we
are to keep the pendulum swinging, and how many
teeth we want in the wheels to make the hands
mark the minutes and the hours. It’s lucky for
you, I’m thinking, my man,†added the clothier,
“that the stream is dry, or I never should have had
time to have given you this lesson.â€
“No, that you wouldn’t, Mr. Wilkins,†answered
Owen, “and I’m very much obliged to you, I’m sure.â€
“ Now, my boy, to know all about the works of
the clock, we must have the doors oft. In Dutch
clocks like this, they are made to hook on at the
side, and can be taken off without hurting the
clock in any way.†|
The sides then having been removed, and the
works exposed to view,* the clothier proceeded to
explain to Owen the uses of the various wheels.
“This wheel at the bottom,†he said, “is what is
called ‘the great wheel.’ In most clocks it’s made te
drive the hour hand, but here it moves the minute
hand, and the consequence is, that clocks like these
* See Engraving at p. 162.
1420 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
have to be wound up every day; for you see, Owen,
there’s a pulley on the axle of the great wheel, and
as the weight descends, it forces the axle round ; then
this axle runs right through to the face of the clock,
and has the minute hand fixed on to the end of it,
outside the dial, so, of course, as it revolves, it car-
ries the minute hand round with it. Now, the
minute-hand goes round once in how often?â€
“In every hour, isn’t it?†inquired the boy.
“ Yes, that’s quite right,†continued Roger. “And
how many times does it go round in the course of
the day, then?†|
“‘T'wenty-four times,†was the lad’s answer.
“Well, Owen, since it’s the weight as makes the
minute hand turn round, of course the string, that
the weight is hung to, must be twenty-four times
as long as the pulley, that the string passes over,
is round. You understand that part, my lad ?â€
Owen nodded assent.
“But in clocks that go a long time,†added the
clothier, “ the weight is made to turn the hour hand
and as that revolves only twice a day, of course the
weight in such clocks has a less space to fall through,
and so the same length of string will keep the
clock a-going a longer time. But all we've got to do
with at present, 1s with clocks like this one, as need
to be wound up once every twenty-four hours. Well,
as I was a-saying, the weight here pulls the axle of
the minute hand round ; and now what we want to
TO MAKE A CLOCK. | : 143
know is, how to make that axle, while revolving
once every hour, move the pendulum once every
second. Let us see then, lad. How many minutes
are there in the hour?†|
“Sixty,†returned Owen. “TI know that, because
I can see the number marked over the twelve on
the dial. | :
“Yes, that’s right,†proceeded Roger Wilkins;
“and there are sixty seconds in every minute. Now,
boy, if we multiply 60 by 60, we shall have 3600
for the number of times that the pendulum must
swing while the axle of the minute hand turns once
round. Well, the use of these wheels here, which
you see placed above the great one at the bottom,
is merely to make the pendulum swing once every
second, as the minute hand revolves once every
hour.†|
“TIT could never do that,†exclaimed Owen.
“Come, look here, my boy,†said the clothier,
pointing to the great wheel. “On the axle of the
minute hand there is, you see, a cogged wheel, and
that wheel has got 70 cogs or teeth to it. Now,
those teeth, as the wheel goes round, work into the
little pinion, which is fixed on the axle just above
it; and as that pinion has got 7 teeth, and the
wheel working into it 70, it’s very plain that the
middle axle must turn 10 times quicker than the
bottom one; so, of course, the middle wheel must
go round once every 6 minutes, while the great
144 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
wheel at the bottom, or that which turns the minute
hand, goes round once every hour.â€
“ Of course it must,†said Owen.
“Then again,†Roger went on; “there’s another
cogged wheel, you see, on the middle axle,* and it’s
70 cogs or teeth to it as well. Now this works into
another pinion on the axle above it, which has
got 7 teeth like the t’other, so, of course, the top
axle turns round 10 times as qutck again asthe
middle one does. Well, the middle axle revolved
ence in how many minutes, Owen?â€
“Six, sir,†was the reply.
“Very good,†responded Wilkins; “and as the
top axle turns 10 times while the middle one turns
once, you would find, if you counted it, that the top
axle must go round once in every 36 seconds.
“Oh! thank you, sir,†replied Owen; “ it’s rather
difficult for me.to follow the figures, but I can
understand quite well how it’s done.â€
“Yes, it’s all simple enough, lad, when you can
reckon it,†replied the clothier. “ But where had we
got to’—oh, we left off at the top axle. Well, on
that axle is placed what is called the ‘’scape’ or
‘escape wheel, that is to say, a wheel with the teeth
cut slanting, like those of a saw. Now, this ’scape
wheel has 36 teeth round its edge, and each of
these teeth causes one or other of the ‘pallets —
* See Engraving at p. 162,
TO MAKE A CLOCK. 145
tney’re little strips of brass with ends bent in-
wards, something like the flukes of an anchor,
fastened to the axle of the pendulum—to rise as it
slides under them, so that it isn’t very difficult to
see that the pendulum must make 36 swings while
the axle of the ’scape wheel goes round once.â€
“To be sure it must,†said little Owen Evans;
“and now it’s all done, and I needn't trouble you
any more, Mr. Wilkins.â€
“No, no, no; not quite so hasty, youngster,â€
smiled Roger; “ you've forgotten all about the hour
hand, and I don’t see exactly how you could have a
elock to tell the hours without any hour hand.â€
The boy laughed, but with a poor grace, at his own
mistake.
“Well, that’s not very ditficult, Owey, and wont
cost us much time or trouble to understand,†re-
marked the clothier. “On the axle of the great
wheel at the bottom—which you know is the one
as carries the minute hand round, and revolves
once in every hour—there is a small wheel which
has 24 cogs toit. Well, this works into another
wheel above it, which has the same number of
cogs round it, so of course the axle of this wheel
revolves at the same rate as that of the great wheel
axle. Now, the upper wheel has on its axle a pinion
with only 4 teeth to it, and that pinion works
into another wheel with 48 teeth; so then, you -
see, the wheel with the 48 teeth mus go round
L
146 THE BOY-MECHANIC TRIES
once while the pinion above it goes round 12 times;
and as that pinion turns at the same rate as the axle
of the minute-hand does, it’s clear that the axle of
the 48-toothed .wheel must revolve 12 times as
slow as that of the minute-hand. Now look, boy;
the axle of the 48-toothed wheel is hollow,
and carries the hour hand at the end of it outside
the dial, while that of the minute hand passes
right through it, and has the long hand fixed
to the end of it in the same manner. There, my
little man, you know now all I can tell you about
the clock. However, so that you may make no
mistake, I'll just mark down the numbers of cogs
to the wheels on a bit of paper for you, and
then you can toddle and make a clock for yourself
as quick as you please.â€
“Oh! thank you, Mr. Wilkins ; I’m sure you're
very good,†observed Owen ; “I don’t know what
T should have done if it hadn’t been for you.â€
“There, never mind about your thanks,†said
Roger, “I’m too glad to teach you the little I know
whenever I’ve got the time to spare. You come in
again some day, my little man, and then I'll tell you.
about Benjamin Franklin, a poor printer’s boy, who
used never to touch a bit of meat, so that he might
live upon less, and buy books with what he saved. And
Pll tell you how he got to be the first man in America
—became a kind of king there—and how he brought
flown the lightning from the skies by means of a
TO MAKE A CLOCK. 147
kite. What do you think of that, Owey? But
come, it’s no use your stopping there with your
mouth wide open, for Fm tired out, and so ought
you to be, I’m sure, you voracious young scaramouch,
you ;†and as the clothier said this, he threw his
arms about the boy, and pressed him to him.
“There, go along, do,†cried Roger, “or else you'll
be dragging another story out of me; but I’ve got
a fresh warp to put into the loom, and if I’m not
much mistaken, we shall have rain afore the morn-
ing, for I noticed, a little while ago, that the flower —
of the chickweed was closed, and that’s as good as a
weather glass any day. It’s the poor man’s baro-
meter like, and will tell you when the weather's
a-going to be ‘showery,’ and when it will be ‘ very
wet, as well as the best glass you could buy. I
shall be at work again, I hope, to-morrow. So, run
away as quick as you can, my little fellow, and let
me see your clock when you've made it.â€
ba
CHAPTER T.
OWENS DIAL.
Owen was too full of his clock to turn to any other
occupation, and although he had tired out the
clothier, his own interest in the subject was in
no way abated; indeed, now that he was better
acquainted with the various parts of the machine,
he felt, if possible, more eager than ever to get to
work at it.
The first thing the boy did was to pick out from
the lumber in the tool shed, a piece of hard wood,
out of which he could cut the wheels and axles
of his timepiece. And when he had planed it
smooth, and reduced it
to about an eighth of
an inch in thickness, he
made the great wheel,
(2 inches in diameter)
cutting out the teeth
with his penknife, in the
form here shown —
OWENS DIAL.
Then he got a bit of wire, and
bent it into the form of a spring,
thus—
After this he cut out the “ click.â€
And when he had finished all these, :
he proceeded to fix the chick and the spring to
the rim of the great
wheel in this fashion—
Next, he got a stouter
piece of wood, about half
an inch thick and near
upon two inches square,
and out of this he carved
the pulley or “barrelâ€
to carry the cord—cut-
ting a deep groove in it, and notching 1¢ all round
the edges so that the cord should not slip. On
one side of the edge of this, too, he made the
ratchets for the click or. the large wheel to work
into. And when he had completed the pulley it
assumed this shape—
Yo
at Sy
cae |
yp IE
a
150 OWEN’S DIAL.
__, Now came the axle, or
« ‘ arbour,†as it is technically
termed, on which the great
wheel and the pulley were to
be fixed, and this was after
the manner of the annexed.
That done, he constructed the little
wheel that was to work another of the
same size, whose pinion was to move the
hour hand, and made it thus—
Presently he set to work at
the axle, or arbour, to carry
this wheel, which he formed
after this fashion— ;
And having fixed the small
wheel upon it, the wheel and
arbour appeared as here repre-
sented—
The next point was to join the two parts of the
axle together, by inserting the small square end of the
first into the square hole at the extremity of the
second, and when the two were united they looked
like this—the whole being about 3 inches long.
Owen then made a wooden nut or collar, with a
OWENS DIAL | | 151
hole in the middle to fix at the end of the axle,
and to keep the great wheel tight in its place.
When he had completed this, he proceeded to fix
the pulley and the great wheel in the manner here
shown, putting a piece of,cord over the pulley to
see how it would work.
a 7 Co,
aa uo = :
ee
—_ 7
Ld
N 7 ted
i ooo
wef /\\ f\3
i om
e
He afterwards occupied himself with making the
wheel to drive the hour hand. The axle to this was
hollow, so as to pass over that of the minute hand,
and there was a little nut wherewith to fix the
wheel upon it—each as given below.
152 OWEN’S DIAL
_ And when these were put together, they had the
following appearance.
|
|
a. ; - : 7 7 «- *
ih So
. Gg ; i H a
’ - 7 comet Uda
ear epeeert ON gE
- Fag
a .
After this the boy passed the hollow axle of the
hour hand over that of the minute hand, arranging
them as shown in the subjoined engraving.
. ¥
Uy
> dt aac
BI
rhe eee
The delighted lad here paused for a while to con-
template his handiwork; and as he twisted it round
and round, he inwardly wondered what Roger Wil-
kins would think of it. Then the boy longed for
the moment when it would be finished, and he could
hear it go “tick, tick,†for the first time.
OWENS DIAL.
In a few minutes Owen was hard
at work again, making the stanchion
or bearings for the great wheel. This
part of the machine he fashioned
out of a bit of wood } of an
inch thick, 1 inch wide, and 43
inches high. One inch from the bot-
tom he bored a hole half an inch
across, and made three other small
holes above it to carry the axles of
the upper wheels,—drilling these at
the places indicated in the engraving
here given.
The moment after, the boy was
busy making another wheel an inch
in diameter, with twenty-four teeth
153
round its edge, similar to the one he had previously
formed; and close round the centre of this he fixed
four bits of wire to serve as the teeth of a pinion.
That done, he pointed a stout bit of wire about a
quarter of an inch long, and drove it into the lowest of
the small holes he had made in the
stanchion. This was to serve as a pin
for the inch wheel he had just formed
to turn upon. Next he bent another
bit of wire into this form—
That was to serve as a stay to the inch wheel,
so as to keep it in its place; and having pointed
the end of it, he drove this into the stanchion ag
154 OWENS DIAL.
“well, about an inch above the other. Then he
‘placed the wheel upon the wire axle, and brought
‘the stay down before it in such a manner, that,
when the two were fixed on the stanchion, the
wheel with its stay appeared as here shown.
fet
—— ,
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’
ie “After this, Owen commenced making the handy
for the clock, which he did as follows:
These finished, he undid the axle of hg minute
hand, at the joint in the middle of it, and having
OWENS DfAL. 155
passed it through the hole in the stanchion, put it
together again. Then having fixed the hands on
the ends of the minute and hour axles, the boy once
more paused to contemplate the look of the whole.
All that now remained to be done were the wheels
to drive the pendulum. The middle one of these,
(which was 2 inches in dia- By z 2 |
ieter,) with its axle, pinion, [i
and nut, he made in this. fe
wise—
156 ~ OWEN’S DIAL.
And these he put together thus—the whole being a
fraction more than 2 inches long.
eM OE PEL ECC LeL!
: ny 1 . /
-
——
aos
sai
i
Next came the ‘scape wheel, axle, nut, and
pinion ;* these he made of the same size as those on
the middle wheel.
Presently the boy was busy fashioning another
stanchion, but this was 51 inches long; for it
* The pinions are what are termed ‘‘ lantern†ones, and con-
sist merely of 7 straight pieces of wire set round the axle as
shown in the engravings.
OWEN’S DIAL 157
was to be iet into the top and bottom of the frame.
At the vpper part of it he bored a large hole, so
as to allow the axle of the pendulum crutch to
pass through it; and he drilled three small holes
down it so as to serve as bearings for the axles of
_ the ’scape, middle, and great wheels. "When he had
fitted the several axles into their respective | places,
the whole of the wheels put — appeared as
under—
a ff BERS FT
oF i}
ra
wa : -
i
Yd
fe
i
my
on a ah
j fs
at | i
a rr
H STW ta THT GT
fads hil me Rute
evaeis 1 ig
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i
naa erage
bs uti A RT: |
=
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I
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=
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tl
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rs
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td
bond
ax
Site,
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ai
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Se
PU Aeers ‘
(Foseiyen ting
F et Age
Then came the frame. For this he made four
small supports, out of a piece of 2 stuff, each half
an inch wide, and 43 inches high; after which he
158 OWEN’S DIAL.
fashioned the top and bottom, making them each —
33 square, and piercing holes in them to receive
the rounded ends of the four supports; and when |
he had nailed the whole together, it was as here
given—the hook at the top of the front support
being placed there as a means of fastening the dial
—
to the frame.
“Owen had now to construct only the pendulur:
crutch, and “pallets,†in order to complete the works,
OWEN'S DIAL. 159
and as these were comparatively easy, he was not
long in making the following: F
Nor when these were com-
pleted, did it take many
minutes to fix them, thus—
r6O OWENS DIAL
Everything was now finished but the and back
front. The dial, however, cost the boy more trouble
than all the works put together. The face of
Roger Wilkins’ clock had a bunch of flowers, Owen
knew, at the top, and some ornaments in each
corner. For a long time he could not-tell how
he was to manage this so as to make it look -
anything like the clothier’s. However, he chanced
at last to light upon a bit of old chintz curtain,
whence he cut out the desired bunches of flowers;
then gluing them to the top of the dial, the
face of the clock, when he had finished it, was
not very unlike that of the old Dutch clock at
the mill.
OWENS DIAL. 16]
After this the boy
formed the back, thus—
The hole at the top
of the back was to hang
the clock upon its hook ;
the wooden peg project-
ing immediately beneath
the upper hole, with the
bent wire below it, was
to suspend the pendu-
lum from ; and the hole
underneath this was to
_ allow the crutch to pass
through ; while the little tin plate at the side
of it, with a small hole drilled in the middle,
was to serve, when fixed, as a bearing for one end
of the pendulum axle, the other end of which was
made to work in an eyelet hole at the bottom of a
strip of metal let through the top part of the frame ;
lastly, the two pegs at the bottom were to keep the
clock from the wall.
Owen was not long, now that he had progressed
thus far, in fixing the back and front to the frame.
The back he nailed to the top and bottom, but the
front (as he might have occasion to remove it) he >
fastened by means of a hook attached to each of the
foremost supports at the side.
At length, however, the back and front were added
M |
162 OWENS DIAL.
to the other parts, when the whole appeared as here
drawn. 7 : .
ooo Tr
: =
ee
~~ F
BOE Cer
FP Wen.
-?
:
; ; oe § Be
Rearend sua oe a 5 " - no a He a
ae ee , es a 5) fateull
a : ‘ = ‘ to S . : ca Bean
†oe TE entree .
ee ee eR EE LS
Dilerioai:
Og 5 i : .
rn ee eta eee
The clock was now complete, with the exception —
_of.the side doors to close. the works in and keep
them from the dust. As these were merely flat bits
OWEN’S DIAL.
of wood (33 inches by
04), it did not take
long to form them.
The hinges were made
of two bits of bent
wire, which worked
into two wire eyelet
holes let into the back ;
and there was a hook
fixed to the front part
of the doors to fasten
them to -the frame.
The doors were soon
fixed, and the clock—
with
and weights added—
the pendulum
hanging against the
wall.
The timepiece once
finished,
upon its hook, Owen’s
hand trembled with ex-
and placed
citement as he pushed -
the pendulum and
caught the sound of its
first “tick,†after his.
many days’ labour.
Then he ran back and
stood gazing at it,
| M 2
Se Ee ee ee EE ee ee eS
on
nes
error rare
Se ee ee
= =
(eres
163
164 OWEN’S DIAL.
chuckling inwardly as he beheld the rod swing gently
to and fro, and heard it throb again, almost like
the beating of his own heart. The little fellow
sat half the day in his own room looking at the
little machine, and playing with it — now mount-
ing the chest of drawers that stood -beside it,
and opening its little wooden doors, so that he
might see the wheels turn round, and the pallets
move up and down as it went—then fancying that
some of the bearings were too loose, and taking it
down to make the imaginary improvements. When
these were completed, and the timepiece was once
more in its place, the delighted boy would try all
kinds of experiments with it—at one time he would
unhook the pendulum, and laugh again as he heard
the “ticking†quickened, and the pallets rattle against
the ’scape wheel—at another, he would slide the
pendulum “ bob,†as it is called, up the rod, and see
what difference the change made in the rate of
going. |
Presently, as Owen saw the minute hand come
round for the first time to the point of XII, he
thought to himself he should like to make it strike.
It would be so nice to hear it speak to him as it
were, and tell him how the hours went by. He
sat for a while considering how he could do so.
It would not be very difficult, he thought, to make
it sound one at every hour, and that would be
quite enough for what he wanted. He would only |
OWENS DIAL. 165
have to put a pin in the pulley that was on the axle
of the minute hand, and as that revolved once every
hour, the pin could be made to force up the bent
end of a long hammer, and so drive the top part
back; then there could be a spring placed behind
this, so that when the bent end was released from
the pin, the upper part should be pulled suddenly
forward, and made to strike against something that
would give a sound.
But what that something was to be, was more
than Owen could tell at that moment. Accordingly
the lad fell into a reverie again, puzzling his brains
as to what he could possibly use for a bell.
At length he thought he might be able to manage _
the matter with the neck of an old bottle. He re-
membered there was one in the tool-shed, and glasses
he knew sounded beautifully. :
The boy was not long in removing the jagged
edges of the broken bottle by chipping it carefully
round with a pair of shears, for he had often seen
this father cut glass in that manner ; after which
he ground the bottom on a flat stone
with a little fine sand and water. Then
he took the clock to pieces once more,
and proceeded to set the pin upon the
front of the pulley on the lower axle
placing it as near the edge as possible.
Next he formed the wooden hammer
with the bent ead, after this fashion,
166 OWEN’'S: PIAL.
and made the shaft long enough to project two
or three inches above the top of the clock, in which
he cut a slit so as toadmit of the shaft working
backwards and forwards. Then he had to search
for something he could use as a spring in order
to make the top of the hammer fly suddenly back
against the bottle when the tail slipped from the pin.
This part. of the apparatus, however, he got from
an old bird-cage ; and then having corked the neck of
the bottle tight up, he passed the end of the peg
which he had set up, as a support for the bell on
top of the clock, through the cork, and so fixed
the bottle firmly in its place. .
‘The timepiece once more. against the wall, Owen
was overjoyed with his work. As he watched the
minute hand creep round gently towards the last
point in the hour, he jumped on a chair in order
to see the head of the hammer forced back, and
there the boy stood, breathing quickly with the
excitement, till he beheld the hammer spring
suddenly forwards, and striking the side of the
glass, heard it fill the little room with a sharp
hum. |
_ The little fellow was too impatient to be able to
wait until another hour had passed away, second
by second ; so he took the pendulum off to make the
wheels work quicker, and sat gazing at the hands
WOR
er SOMITE
% rg SEUaRRRSN gS
uf
NESS
, 2 ==
ON) yf \
wy
WN \ \
A .
. eX \
aces
NPESSSS
Owen shows his Clock to his Father.—P. 167.
OWEN’S DIAL 167
as they ran round, aud listening to the sound of
the bell, as circle after circle was completed.
' At length, however, the novelty wore off, and
‘Owen grew eager for his father’s return from work,
so that he might show him what he had made.
- And when the lad led his parent up to his room,
and showed him the result of his labour, ticking
against the wall, he felt more than repaid for ull his
toil, to find his father almost wonder-stricken at the
work. |
Davy Evans minutely examined every part of the
clock, and when he had done so, he hugged the boy
to him, and made the little fellow blush again with
pleasure, as he praised his cleverness, saying it was
more than he himself could have done. Where-
upon Owen, glad to display his knowledge, explained
to his father the use of the pendulum, and the
reason he had made it of sucha length. He repeated
to him, too, the story of its original discovery by
the young Florentine student—Davy Evans all
the while sailing with pride at the lad’s infor-
mation.
“You see, Owey boy, I must come to learn of
you, now,†said Davy, as he curled his arm round
the lad’s neck, and pressed his palm fondly against
his cheek. ‘* Well, [ll tell you what I'll do, my little
clock-maker, I'll give you an order. You shall
raake mea clock, and when you've finished it, I'll pay
168 OWENS DIAL.
you for it just the same as if you were in businesy
for yourself.â€
“But I made this one for you, father,†said Owen,
as he kissed him, and hid his head against hig
cheek.
“There’s a good fond lad !†added Davy, “ Well,
~ then, Pll pay you for that.â€
“ No, father, don’t do so,†replied the son, “for it
will seem as if I had done it for the money, and in-
stead of that I thought you would keep it, and prize
it when I had grown a big man, and was out in the
world at work—perhaps away from you,†(the little
fellow’s eyes filled with tears at the thought,) “the
same as Mr. Wilkins told me they did at Grantham
—I think that was the name of the place—with the
dial Isaac Newton made when he was a boy. It
was known in the village a long time after he died,
by the name of ‘Isaac’s dial,’ father.â€
“Well, boy,†returned Davy, “we'll call this
‘Owen’s dial, and we'll have it taken care of in the
same manner that Isaac’s was ; I'll paint your name
at the bottom of it too, and how old you were
when you made it.†|
“No! will you, father?†exclaimed Owen.
“Yes, my lad, and what’s more, when I go over
to Llangoed again, I'll tell squire Macnamara
there what you've done, and may-be he'll give
you a job to clean one of his clocks, or perhaps to
make a new one for the Lodge. ‘Then, you see,
OWEN'S DIAL. 169
Owey, you'll be getting a little money for yourself,
and wont you be proud of that? I remember the
first sixpence I ever earned seemed to me the most
beautiful bit of money in the world. It told me
like, as I was growing a man, and getting able to
shift for myself; for after all, lad, there’s nothing
like self-reliance in life. It makes all the difference
betwixt an independent man and a beggar. Now,
by an independent man, Owey, I don’t mean one
who is so rich as to have no need to work for his
own living, tor such a man 1s the most dependent, of
all creatures, and can’t do a thing for himself. But
what I do mean, lad, is a man who is able to support
himself hy his own labour. So, it’s to make you have
this faith in yourself, that I mean to pay you for
the clock, and let you see that, even little fellow
as you are, you can earn something. I can’t afford,
though, you see, lad, to pay you the full price, for I
couldn’t have spared the money to buy such a thing
for myself; but, come, there’s a new shilling for you,â€
he added, as he drew from his pocket the little
leather bag in which he kept his money, “ and re-
member it a’n’t a gift, boy, but what you've fairly
earned.â€
Owen flung himself upon his father’s neck, and
kissed him again and again with delight. “ Yes,
father,†he cried, as his head rested on Davy’s
shoulder, “I wish you would let me do something,
-—go out to work somewhere, and get a little money
170 OWEN'S DIAL.
for myself. Dm sure I’m big enough. I could
mind sheep at least, if I could do nothing else. I’ve
often wanted to ask you to put me out, for I know
how hard you. have to labour for all you get, and
there would be so much the more for you if I could
earn a little.†—
“Well, good lad,†replied Davy, patting him on
the cheek, “if you will, you shall be a little shepherd.
The work isn’t hard, and you can study while you're
out in the fields ; but, remember! you musn’t get
_ studying too deep, or you'd be having your sheep go
astray, and that would bring trouble upon you.
Well, well, I'll see about it, Owey. I dare say in
a few days I may hear of a farmer on the hills as
wants a smart lad, and then I'll speak a word for
you,â€
CHAPTER VI.
THE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCH, AND THE
BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS IT.
Owen for the next day or two could think of little
else than his going out to work, and he told ail his
companions in the village that his father had pro-
mised to make a shepherd boy of him. Nor did he
forget to communicate the intelligence to old Jack,
the donkey, assuring him at the same time that he
wouldn't forget him when he was away, for that he
would come home once a week with his pockets
stored with good things for him. Zhen the old
darling should have a regular feast of peppermint
drops. |
Every: evening, too, when Davy returned from
work, the boy would anxiously wait to hear whether
he had yet found a place for him; and when he went
to bed he dreamt of strange things about his shep-
herd life. |
At length, however, the repeated disappoint-
1,2 THE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCH,
ments drove the thought of going out into the
world more and more from the lad’s mind, and go
made him seek to occupy himself with some fresh
work. Accordingly, Owen thought he should like
to make a watch for his “ Aunties ;†but having no
idea how a timepiece could go, except bya weight
and pendulum, he began to wonder how a watch
could be made to keep time in all positions. He
wished he had asked Mr. Wilkins the reason of it ;
he could easily have told him.
The boy went to the hatch to listen whether the
mill was at work, and catching the sound of the
water-wheel, he felt loth to trouble the clothier in
the midst of his business. Suddenly, Owen remem-
hered that he had noticed the old sea-captain who
lived at the end of the village, and was so fond
of his little sister Peggy, had a bunch of seais
hanging from his fob; so he thought he’d run up to
the house and just ask the gentleman “ what o’clock
it was,†in order that he might get into conversa-
tion with him about the matter.
While the boy stood at the door making up his
mind to pay the Captain a visit, Mrs. Pugh (his
housekeeper) came down to fetch little Peggy, as
was her wont at least once a week, saying the old
gentleman had got something for her. Glad of the
excuse, Owen promised to bring the child, in a few
minutes, himself. |
As soon as the little girl had been “ tidied†and
aS aan
SS
oe oe
ee
ae Sten
eS SSS SS
See)
Captain Jones and Little Peggy.—P. 173.
AND THE BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS IT. 173
invested in a clean pinafore, away the couple trotted
up the road. The old Captain, who was sitting out
in the sunshine in the front garden, no sooner caught
sight of the little thing in her large sun bonnet,
than he cried, “ Come along toddles! Come along
trots! Here’s such a beauty thing for her. I
bought it a week ago of young what’s-his-name, the
blacksmith’s boy—dear, dear! I shall forget my own
name directly—I mean him that lives close to—
whose cottage is it on the common—you know, ©
Owen? He caught it in the wood hard by. I gave
him a good bit of money, too, for it, I know. Let me
see, how much was it I gave? But Mrs. Pugh can
say, if] can’t. Here! Mrs. Pugh! Mrs. Pugh!â€
By this time Owen had jumped his sister up the
steps, and as little Peggy came paddling along
the gravel walk towards the cottage, the old
sailor bent down in his easy chair, and stretching
out his trembling hands, held them ready to catch
the child. Then having helped her clamber up his
knee, he kissed her as though he meant to devour
her.
“ Has. little Peg been a good girl?†inquired the
sailor.
“ Me a dood doe,†answered the child, in her own
infantine prattle. |
“You haven’t been saying ‘me sarnt’ and ‘me
boant’ any more, I hope,†said the old man, holding
up his fore finger. “Do you know, Peggy, you
174 THE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCH, |
told me yesterday—and yet it couldn’t have been -
yesterday, for I haven’t seen you these two or three
days past, but it was last time you. were here—you
loved me ‘berry leet,’ and that you loved Mrs.
Pugh ‘berry mut’—after all those ‘goodies’ I gave —
you, too. Oh, she’s a sly boots, she is. Little puss
only said it to make me have a game with her;â€
and the fond old gentleman hugged the little one to
him with increased affection at the remembrance
of her tricks. |
“Now Peg,†continued the Captain, “what do
you think I’ve got for you to-day?†|
“ Barley tugar,†cried the child, holding up > both
her little fat hands.
“No, it isn’t barley tugar, little sweet tooth,â€
answered the old man, as he.tickled her in the neck,
and made her roll and kick again in his lap with
laughter. “ Bless her heart!†he added, “I do love
to hear her chuckle. Of all the sounds in nature,
boy,†he said, turning to Owen, “ there’s nothing to
an old man, as I am, like a child’s laugh—and so
youll think one day, if you are spared. It’s so
hearty, so truthful, so full of life and enjoyment.
Ah! lad,†he continued, “ what would I give to be
like this little thing—full of health, with the blood
dancing through one’s veins, and a whole life to look
forward to, instead of a long mis-spent one to look
back upon. It makes us think what fine things we'd
do, if we had only our time to come over again,
AND THE BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS IT, 175
There’s nothing like little children to old people,
boy; for they’ve got what we covet more than any-
thing else—health, and life, and spirits. Not the
richest, nor the wisest man in the kingdom do I
envy so much as this little blue-eyed doll in my
lap. But come, trots, this will never do. ‘We are
getting serious and sad, and you come here to make
us merry—don’t you, little woman? ‘Well, as I was
saying, what do you think I’ve got in the parlour
for you, Peg? It isn’t ‘goodies,’ but†(and he
whispered the conclusion of the sentence in the
child’s ear) “a beauty skuggy with a tail as big as
the feather at the side of a grenadier’s cap. Run
and bring the creature here, Owen.â€
The boy was not a minute gone, and returned,
carrying a long cage with an apparatus like a wire
barrel at the end of it.
“Qh! booty puss!†cried Pesey; Cirectly she
caught sight of the animal. |
“Ah! I think he is—a real beauty,†echoed the
delighted old man; “look at him, he’s like a little
crop-eared hare with a fox’stail. See how nice and
white, too, he is under the belly, Peg, and notice —
his small black eyes, they’re like a couple of pear- |
pips. Then, look, Peggy, how pink his little paws»
are underneath. ‘Tooc! tooc!’ he goes—that’s
because he can’t get in his house. See, now, as I
let go the round-about, how he: skips and clucks
with delight, and he makes the wire barrel spin.so |
176 TILE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCTI,
fast, that he looks as if he was inside so much
gauze.â€
“ Booty, booty !†exclaimed the little girl, clap-
ping her chubby hands with joy. |
“There, Peg, he deserves a nut now, I think,â€
went on the sailor, as he rummaged in his pockets
for the remains of the store he kept in them.
“You crack it, Owen, for that’s more than I can do,
Look, how well the cunning fellow knows the sound.
Do you see! there’s his little bald nose poked
through the bars directly. You give it him, Peg;
he wont hurt you. Don’t be afraid, little one;†and
so‘saying, the old man took hold of the child’s wrist
and held her hand to the bars, as she shrunk back
with fright.
As soon as the squirrel had taken the nut from
her fingers, Peggy laughed: to see the little
thing sit up on its hind legs, and nibble the kernel
between his tiny fore paws. |
“Tsn’t he a pretty fellow sitting there with his
tail curled up his back like a feather,†babbled on
the old boy, “and nibbling away the rind, and
chucking it from him till it flies about like so much
bran. There, now, do you notice, Peg, he’s caught
sight of you watching him, and thé deep little rogue
has twisted his tail round his neck, so that you can
hardly see his head.â€
‘The child chuckled again with delight, as she
beheld the squirrel’s antics.
AND THE BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS IT. lv;
“ He's finished that nut now,†remarked the Cap-
tain. “You give him another, Owen, and you'll see
he'll go away and hide it under his bed of moss.
te’s got a rare store there, the rascal, and he’s so
savage, Peggy, if you attempt to disturb it. He'll
scold away then, and almost bark at you like a little
toy dog. Look! he’s run away into his house with
the nut, and there he is digging his nose under the
moss,†chattered the old man. “Now see how he’s
scattering the stuff about with his feet. He’s doing
that to cover himself over, and presently you'll find
he'll be quite hidden under it—just as he is every
night when he goes to bed. Do you know, Peg, I
let him out of his cage every day to have a run
about the parlour, and he paddles along round
and round the room, with his tail sweeping the
ground like a long brush; and when he’s tired of
that, he scrambles up the chairs and sits atop of
the backs of them, looking as impudently as you do,
Miss Peg, when youre having a game at ‘peep-
boh’ with me behind the trees in the garden. Then
he'll spring on to the mantel-piece, and take a run
wlong there, and when he’s tired of that, down he'll
jump, and climb up my legs right over my back.
Sometimes he'll get on to my skull cap, where he'll
sit perched up, with his tail over his head, and eat a
bit of apple, if he can only get me to give it him.
But his great game, little Peg, is to climb up the
what-de-call-em’s—the long things at the side of the
N
178 THE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCH,
window—the—the curtains, to be sure——and up
them he'll go ‘tooc-toocing’ away, as he jerks himself
to the top ; and when he gets there, he'll run along
the pole above, from one end to the other, for
all the world like a tight-rope dancer at a fair, and
keep up such a chattering as he goes, that you'd
- fancy he’d got back into the woods again. Ah! he’s
a beautiful little fellow, Peggy, and he'll get to love
you dearly if you only feed him and take care not to
tease him, by disturbing him in his bed, or taking
his nuts from him. I got him for you, Peg; so
you must give me a big kiss as you call it—one of
your very biggest, Peg—and say I’m a dear ‘ Mitter
Jone, and you love me ‘berry mut.’ No! that isn’t
half a one, Miss,†the old dotard cried, as the little
thing scrambled up and stood on his knee, while
she threw her podgy little arms about his neck,
and squeezed him to her. “ ‘More!’ as you say for
the sugar plums, Peg. Ah, that’s better! but I
must have another still;†and as the sailor said so,
he threw her in his lap and kissed the child under
her chin till he made her chuckle again with the
tickling. :
By this time the old man had become tired with
the pranks he had been playing with the child;
so when Mrs. Pugh came out to advise him to go in
doors, as it was getting chilly now that the sun was
off the cottage, he bade his housekeeper “take
Peg and her squirrel into the kitchen, and give
AND THE BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS IT. 1793
the pet a good plate of that raspberry tart they'd
had at dinner.†He told the dame also to bring
some fruit out of the garden for Owen, and to put
the currant wine on the table,
As soon as the housekeeper had moved the arm >
chair into the parlour and wheeled it up to the
window, the white-haired old man shuffled into the
room, leaning upon Owen’s shoulder.
The boy fidgeted about the parlour for some little
time, looking at the various shells under the side-
board, and the model of a ship under the glass
case that stood on the side-table, with the little
earthen images of Indian figures set round it.
Then he turned to the Chinese fans and pictures
against the wall, and glanced at the hookah, that
stood on one of the shelves of the three-cornered
cupboard, with the old china cups and saucers
showing above it. There was a walking-stick, too,
made out of a shark’s back-bone, hanging over the
looking-glass, and a dusty old stuffed albatross,
standing near the window.
But the boy was too intent upon the purport of
his visit to pay much attention to any of the curio-
‘sities, and was, even while he pretended to be viewing
them, summoning up courage to ask the old cap-
tain to let him have a look at his watch. Presently
the lad said, half to himself, “I wonder what the
time is ?â€
w 8
180 THE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCH,
“Oh, it’s not late, boy,†answered the veteran,
pulling his watch out of his fob; “it’s only ten
minutes past three, by my watch, here.â€
At the word the boy turned towards the window, —
and observing the timepiece in the sailor’s hand,
' requested the old man to allow him to look at it.
“Oh, I understand,†exclaimed the Captain, “you
want to have a peep at the works. Well, I was
just the same at your age, and thought the inside of
a watch the prettiest sight in the world.†So say-
ing, he pressed the spring, and lifting up the dial,
took off the brass cap that covered the wheels of
the little timepiece. :
“How beautiful it is,†cried Owen, as he gazed
with wonder into the works, “to see the little
bright wheels twirl round, and this one here, swing
backwards and forwards. I suppose that’s the same
as a pendulum in a clock, sir ?â€
“Yes,†returned the old man; “but what do you
know about pendulums, youngster ?â€
“T know,†replied Owen, sharply, “that a pendu-
lum of three feet and a quarter will swing once
every second.â€
“Hey-day !†cried the sailor, “you know a good
deal, then, for a lad of your age.â€
Encouraged by the approbation, Owen told the
Captain that he had just made a clock, and now
wanted to understand how it was a watch could go
without a weight to it.
AND THE BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS IT. 181
“Well, boy,†answered the Captain, pointing to
the works of his own timepiece, “that brass barrel,
you observe there, with the little steel chain round
it, is what is called the spring-box, and it’s that
which makes the wheels revolve.â€
The little fellow then asked what it was that
made the box itself go round.
“Why, there’s a steel spring within it,†answered
the old sailor ; “and, as that uncoils, it forces the
box to turn on its axle.â€
But Owen had never seen any other spring than
that to his own bird-cage, so he asked how a spring
inside a box could cause the box to go round often
enough to wind all the chain upon it?
The old man answered that the spring was long
and thin, and that one end was fastened to the
axle on which the box turned, and the other to the
inside of the box itself, adding, that the axle was
fixed, while the box was set loose upon it.
The boy bit his lip, ashamed to say he did not
thoroughly understand the matter yet.
“T see,†said the Captain, “you can’t make it out.
Well, my lad, take a long narrow piece of whale-
bone,†he proceeded ; “hold one end of it fast by
your thumb, and wind it round your fore finger, you
will then find that the whalebone will try to un-
wind itself; and if you fix the other end of it to the
inside of a flat ring, like the rim of a good-sized
pil-box, and leave the whalebone to itself, it will
LS2 THE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCH,
turn the rim round and round, and wind up a thread
tied to the outside.â€
The lad thanked the Captain, and said, now he
understood it perfectly.
“Not quite so fast, youngster,†exclaimed the
sailor; “for you see, when a spring is put in the
place of a weight to drive the wheel, there’s a great
difference in the action of the two. The force of
the weight is the same all along, but with the spring
it's much greater at the beginning than 1t js at the
end, for the more and more it unwinds itself the
weaker and weaker it becomes.â€
“T see,’ said Owen, thoughtfully, “and how can °
that be got over, sir?â€
“Why, that’s done, my little man,†replied the
Captain, “by what’s termed a ‘ fusee.’â€
“What's that, if you please, sir?†inquired the
boy.
“Well, a fusee,†responded the old sailor, “ is
nothing more than a conical-shaped barrel; that is
to say, it’s a barrel made in the form of a small
sugar-loaf, bigger at the bottom than it is at the top,
and with a long spiral groove cut round it from one
end of it to the other. You know a peg-top, of course,
youngster ? Well, the small end of that with the
groove round it where the string is wound, is a per-
fect fusee. The watch 1s wound up by turning round
the axle of the fusee, and then the chain is drawn
from off the gpring-box, and twisted round and round
AND THE BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS LT. 183
the fusee barrel, in the same manner as the string is
wound round your peg-top. But as the watch goes
the spring uncoils itself, and so turns the box round
the reverse way. By this means the chain is wound
off the fusee on to the box again, and in sucha
manner that at first, when the power of the spring
is the strongest, it’s pulling at the small end of the
fusee barrel, while at last, when the power of the
spring is the weakest, it pulls at the thick end.
Thus the power is applied farther from the centre
of the fusee axle, just in proportion as the spring
gets weaker, and therefore the force is rendered
equal and regular throughout.â€
“Thank you, Captain Jones, I know what you
mean very well,†said Owen, “for it’s the same as
the wheel and axle.â€
“Very well said, lad,†responded the sailor ; “go
itis. You know about wheels and axles, too, do
you? Well, then, master Owen, you know a great
deal more than I did at double your age, for I was
a sad idle young scape-grace, and that’s why I was
sent to sea—between you and me and the post. I dare
say, too, if Captain Chapman, of the Honourable
Company's Service, that I first sailed with, hadn’t
kept me ‘taut’ up to the mark, and made all the
young gentlemen—that’s what they call the middies
—study about chronometers and such like, I should
have known no more about the inside of a watch
than I do of the inside of a Punch and Judy
ES4 TIIE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCH,
show. I’ve only told you though, lad, how the _
main-spring in a watch is made to do the duty of a
weight in a clock. But a watch, you know, as it
has to go in all positions, can’t have a pendulum
dangling from it. So how do you think that’s got
over? Why, instead of a pendulum, youngster,
there’s a balance, or fly wheel, worked by the escape-
ment, and this has a small spring to it, because it’s
been discovered that the vibrations of a spring,
whether large or small, (like those of a pendulum,)
take place in equal times, and the consequence
is, the balance-spring in the watch is made to serve
as the pendulum, even as the niain-spring acts as
the weight. ‘There, now you know all about the
watch, for the wheel-work is the same as that in a
clock.â€
“Oh! thank you, sir,†replied the boy.
“Head, you seem, my little man,†laughed the
Captain, “to take a deal more interest in the matter
than Lever did. Ive been mast-headed over and
ever again before they could get that stowed into
my noddle. If I’d have learned it only yesterday
instead of sixty years ago, I should have forgotten
it all by this time ; but I was much fonder of catch-
ing sharks than studying navigation when I first
went to sea, and that was on the 30th of June,
1791. I was telling young what’s-his-name—that I
bought the squirrel of—I mean young—who-do
you-call-him, of the forge yonder ?â€
AND TITE BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS IT. 183
“Jarman?†suggested Owen.
“Veg! that’s he,†said the old man. “What a boy
that is for ‘yarns’! Why, it was only last—no, it
couldn’t have been Wednesday, because somebody was
here that day—who was it I had with me then?—
Tut! tut! it wasn’t the doctor from Builth, because
he came last Sunday. Let me see, though, did doctor
come on Sunday? To be sure he didn’t, for Mrs.
Pugh had her friend to tea with her that afternoon—
her niece, or her cousin, or something of that sort.
She told me a long story about how she was left an
orphan by somebody or other, though for the life
of me I can’t recollect a word of it now. But
what was I saying ?—let me see—let me see,†mum-
bled the old captain, as he put his shrivelled veiny
hand before his eyes, and clasped his forehead in
the bewilderment of his memory.
“You were telling me, sir, about when you first
went to sea,†said Owen.
“Ah!†cried the old sailor, waking up, “I can
remember that, well enough, it was a month after I
left Bristol Grammar School, and Mr. Peace, one of
my father’s clerks, who had been to sea himself, was
sent with me down to Gravesend ; and I recollect
he took me to the King George’s Head there, and
gave me a good feast of cherry and currant pie,
saying, ‘ Well, youngster, you'll bea long time before
you come athwart cherry and currant pie again;
so you had better stow away in your hold now as
3186 THE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCH,
much as you can carry. And sure enough I did,
Why, when I’d done, the gilt buttons on my buff
kerseymere waistcoat—for I was in full uniform—
were ready to start out by the roots.â€
“ And did you like being at sea, sir?†inquired
Owen. |
“ Like it!†echoed the old vaptain, “not at all at
first, lad. How would you like to live for four
long months—we didn’t make land, my first voyage,
for fifteen weeks, excepting just a glimpse we got of
the Cape on rounding it; we ran short of provi-
‘sions, too, towards the end of the voyage, and had
to send the men out in boats to catch turtle. But
where was I !—dear, dear, where was I !—I can’t
keep a thing in my head for two minutes together.
Tm sure the other day I was talking to Squire
Williams, of Liangoed—no it isn’t Squire Williams
that lives at Llangoed, it’s Squire, Squire, Squire—â€
muttered the Captain, half to himself, as he beat a
tattoo with his fingers on his forehead.
“ Macnamara?†hinted the boy.
“Youre right lad,†nodded the old man. “ Well,
I wanted to tell him something Id read in the news-
paper that I knew would interest him greatly—it
was either about fishing or shooting, or a railway
accident, or a marriage of somebody or other ; but
for the life of me, my dear boy, when I began to
out with it, I couldn’t remember where I’d seen it,
AND TIIE BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS IT. 187
or what on earth it was about. It was so strange,
too, for I'd read it only that morning—that is to
say, it must have been the evening before, because
I never get the Hereford—Hereford—Times,—no,
it isn’t the Times I take, either,—but we won't
mind about the name; I know I never get the
paper till the Wednesday, or else it’s the Thurs-
day, or the Friday afternoon—I’m sure I can’t
say which just now. Still, that’s not what I was
saying. Where did I leave off, lad ?â€
“Tf you please, sir,†replied Owen, glad of the
opportunity to bring the wandering old man back
to his story, “you were asking me how [ should like
to live for four months on something ; but you
didn’t say what.â€
“Oh! I recollect,†cried the veteran, “I was
saying how would you lke to live for fifteen long
weeks, as we ‘middies’ did, when I first went to
sea, on magyoty biscuits, and putrid water and
‘junk,’—that’s hard salt beef, lad ; so hard, too, that
you could cut it into cricket-balls, and so salt,
it’s like eating brine itself. Ah, many a time
I’ve been mad with thirst from the heat of the
day, for the sun is right over your head in those
parts, and makes the pitch in the seams of the deck
as soft as treacle. We were only allowed a pint of
water, do you see—over and above our grog and
our tea—and that was as black and filthy as if
188 THE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCH,
it had come out of a cesspool ; why, I used to strain
it through the corner of my handkerchief ag ]
drank it from the tin ‘tots.’ The water rots, young-
ster, a little while after you get to sea; and some-
times when I’ve been down in the hold to see it
served out to the men, I’ve been nearly stifled with
the stench of it, as 1t was pumped out of the casks.
It’s true, we ‘ young gentlemen’ had a mess of our
own, and had laid ina store of sugar and tea, and
hams, and potted meats and soups, and what not.
But bless you, these were all stowed away in the
lockers round the berth,—that’s a place about as
big as four sea-chests, that six of us middies had to
live in, and with a scuttle, or window to it, *s youd
call it, about as big as the lid of a work-box,—and
the very first sea we shipped—Oh! I remember itas
well as I do going to the India House to receive
my first pay. We were at tea, between the dog-
watches, as they’re called, and I was a-sitting right
under the scuttle, with the cups and saucers set out
before me on the little table that was slung from
the beams above, and i the waves poured, for all
the world like what you might fancy would be the
case if the mill dam yonder were taken away suddenly,
and all the water behind it let loose at once. Well,
I fancied—green-horn as I was then—that we
were going straight to the bottom; so I struck out
swimming away for dear life, and each stroke I
made I sent the crockery flying. When the torrent
AND THE BOY-BLACKSMITIT BREAKS IT. | 4389
had ceased there was a pretty state of things. Our
cask of sugar, that stood in one corner, was salt-water
treacle ; our packets of tea in the lockers were all
pappy ; our fresh Lemann’s biscuits, too, were, like
so much sop; and there was my best uniform hat,
with its grand cockade, chock full of sea-water,
and as soft and limp as a bit of hard-bake in hot
weather.â€
This was too much for Owen’s gravity, and he
Jaughed outright at the misadventure, the Captain
joining in with a heartiness that made the tears
trickle from his eyes. “That young blacksmith
wants to be off to sea,†proceeded the garrulous old
man, “but he lhttle knows what a sailor’s life is.
Why, I’ve seen a ship full of men thinned with a
disease breaking out in 1¢ like a hive of bees stifled
with sulphur; Pve known many a man full of life
and health at mid-day, and heard the bell toll his
death before sun-down ; and the next morning I’ve
been summoned on deck to see him tossed from the
eratings at the gangway into the sea. Again and
again, too, P’ve been roused from my sleep in the
night by the cry of a man overboard ringing in my
ears, and rushed upon deck just in time to see the
boats lowered, and six anxious shipmates pulling
away in the darkness, guided only by the faint blue
~ light of the buoy that some kind hand had cut away,
the moment the cry was raised. Ive watched that
boat, as the ship, with all the sails aback, lay still,
199 THE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCH,
hunt and hunt about in the wide waste of waters—
now turning this way and then that, according as the
crew fancied they heard the poor fellow’s cry for help
and life. Andatlast [ve seen them come back with
drooping heads and sad faces to tell that another
companion was gone. I can remember these things,
lad, well enough,’ continued the old man, sadly,
“and often, as I sit out at the doorway in the sun,
I see many a scene of that time that I would
willingly forget.â€
“Hush! I thought I heard little sister crying,â€
exclaimed Owen, suddenly starting to his feet.
The old man listened for a minute, and then
burst out—“ Yes, it 1s Peg, sure enough. Run and
bring her here. You're quicker at moving than I
am, boy. Poor little dear, whatever is the matter ?â€
In a few minutes Owen returned with Mrs.
Pugh, carrying the child screaming in her arms.
“Give her to me!†cried the Captain, stretching
out his hands to receive her.
“She’s only fallen down, sir,’ said the house-
keeper, “and is more frighted than hurt.â€
“Only fallen down!†shouted the sailor, angrily ;
“you should have taken better care of the little
thing, then.†And he kissed and hugged the child
fondly to his bosom.
Mrs. Pugh turned upon her heels, muttering as
she tossed her chin in the air, and left the room,
AND THE BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS IT. 19]
“Youre always baving a pack of young brats hera,
you are.â€
“There, there, little Peggy, don’t’ee cry,†said the
tender-hearted old man ; “Jet Mitter Jone kiss it
and make it well. It will soon be all right
again now. JBless its heart, no one shall hurt it
while Mitter Jone is here. Come, brother will carry
her squirrel for her, and she'll go home prettily,
like a darling as she is. Oh! and here’s your old
doll, Peg, you left behind you last time ;†and, as he
said so, the sailor beckoned to Owen to go to the
drawer of the sideboard, whence the boy took a
square wooden stump, with a round head rudely cut
on top of it.
“ Now she’s got her own baby—and a beauty it is,
I’m sure,†said the sailor, winking and laughing at
Owen, “she'll go back like a good little pet, and
come and see her dear Mitter Jone again, directly.
So give us a good kiss, Peg, and say ‘ tata.’â€
Then the old sailor having hugged the child once
more fondly to him, sat shaking his hand at the
window-as he watched the little couple go down the
walk. “There she goes cuddling that lump of wood,
and quite happy now,†muttered the veteran to
himself. “ Well, we must have something to love,
young or old.â€
When Owen returned home with his little sister
192 THE BOY-MECHANIC MAKES A WATCH,
Peggy, he was intent upon making the watch he
wished to present to his Aunties at the parsonage.
Tt took the lad no little time to construct one with
siyall wooden wheels and a spring of whalebone—
for that was the only elastic material he had at hand.
' What was worse than all, however, he found on
putting the parts together, that he could not get
the watch to go when the balance was on, for the
fine teeth of the wheels were too weak to bear a force
sufficient to drive the additional weight, although
the wheels would run fast enough when the balance
was taken off.
This was a great disappointment to the boy; and
as he saw no remedy for the defect—for he was un-
able to construct the wheels of any stronger sub-
stance—he made up his mind merely to show the
watch to his Aunties, and tell them that, when he
was a better workman, he would make another for
them which should work properly.
Accordingly, Owen enclosed the wooden works in
a rude case that he formed out of an old tin mug,
little bigger than a breakfast cup, and then he started
towards the parson’s, anxious to let the clergyman
and his girls see that he had not forgotten their
kindness to him.
It was Lucy’s week then to attend to the duties
of the house, and the girl was busy with her gloves
on, polishing the tins and candlesticks that lay con-
AND THE BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS [?, 103
fusedly on the table before her, when Owen entered
the cottage. |
Lucy, who had been too intent on her work to
hear the gate swing, gave a start as she saw the boy
standing in front of the table. Then hastily pulling
the gloves from her hands, she jumped the little fel-
low on to her knee in order to kiss him.
“Take care, Auntie Lucy,†cried Owen, as he
guarded the watch which he had tied in the hand-
kerchief he held in his hand, “or youll break what
I’ve got to show you.â€
“Oh! let me see it, Robin dear,†exclaimed the
girl, as she set the boy carefully on the ground;
“whatever have you been doing now?â€
“But wheres Auntie Betty and Mr. Wynn?â€
inquired the boy, looking round the kitchen.
“ Betty’s gone to take some work home,†answered
Lucy, “and you know it’s the day for her to leave
the copy-books at the turnpike for the scholars at
our Sunday school, so that when the carters go by,
they can call for them there, and carry them back
to the farms. And father, Owey, is in the parlour,â€
added the girl, pointing to the little room adjoining
the kitchen, “ preparing his discourse for to-morrow,
so we mustn’t talk loud. Auntie Betty has been
gone some time, so I shouldn’t wonder but we shall
have her back soon. But you may as well Jet me
see now what you’ve got, and not keep me wonder.
ing here till Betty returns.â€
a
14 THE BOY-MECHA™‘If MAKES A WATCH,
“Well, Auntie, do you know,†said Owen, as he
proceeded to untie the handkerchief, “I wanted to
make a watch for you and Betty; and when I’d cut
out all the wheels, I found that it wouldn’t work
with the balance on—wasn’t it a pity?â€
“Oh! you dear fellow, to think of us! but never
mind, Robin, we shall prize it all the same,†said
Lucy. |
“No, but Auntie, it’s of no use as it is,†replied
the lad, “so I only brought it up to show you what
Pddone; andI thought Mr. Wynn would be pleased
to see it, for he'd then know that I hadn’t forgotten
what he'd read to me. But Auntie, I mean to
make you a grand one, by and bye, when I can work
better.â€
“Do let me see this one, Rob,†asked the eager
gitl, as she helped to unfasten the knot that Owen
was teasing. “Oh, you clever little dear, you,â€
she cried, as she caught sight of the card-board face.
“ And did you do all that yourself ?â€
“Yes, that I did,†said the boy, with pride; “and
look here, Auntie, at the works. I cut them all out
with a penknife, and made the spring out of one of
the ribs of an old umbrella. I was obliged to put
it in this old tin case, because I couldn’té get any-
thing else that would do for it. I wish it would
have worked with the balance on, though ; because 1t
might have been of some use to you, and now its
only an ugly-looking toy.â€
_ AND THE BOY-BLACKSMITH BREAKS IT, 195
“T’msure it’s very, very pretty,†answered Luey ;
“and we shall keep it, and guard it for your sake.
Td rather have it as it is, than the grandest gold
one that could be bought.â€
“No, would you, Lucy?†inquired the delighted
boy.
“Yes, that I would, because you made it, Robin,
dear,†returned the girl; and she kissed Owen
again and again. “ Father will come in when hes
done his work, and you shall show it him,†added
Lucy ; “I’m sure he'll be very pleased with it, and
Betty too.â€
At this moment the gate was heard to swing
back, and Owen ran to the door with his watch in
his hand, saying, “ That’s Auntie Betty, I dare say.â€
No sooner had he reached the porch, than
John Jarman, his face crimson with heat, rushed
past him. As he did so, the watch was knocked
from Owen's hand, and falling at the young black-
smith’s feet, was in a moment crunched beneath the
heavy boots of the boy.
OHAPTER VII. ‘
HOW THE PARSON'S DAUGHTERS TURNED THE IRART
OF THE RUNAWAY.
OweEN shrieked as he saw his handiwork crushed
on the kitchen stones. He stood for a moment as
if paralysed by the disaster, and then running
towards Lucy, threw himself.on her neck, and burst
into tears.
“What’s happened to my boy?†cried the fright-
ened girl, as her father, surpmsed by the noise,
hurried from his room.
“Look there, Auntie,†sobbed the little fellow,
pointing to the flattened case as it lay on the ground;
“and Mr. Wypn hadn’t seen it, nor Auntie Betty
either. I wouldn’t have cared so much after that.
I do think he did it on purpose—that I do;†and
the boy having given an angry glance at Jarman,
fell to sobbing again as if his heart would break.
“What does it all mean, Lucy?†inquired the
astonished minister.
The girl explained to her father the cause of
HOW TIE PARSON'S DAUGHTERS, ETC. 197
Owen's grief, telling him how the little fellow had
made a watch for them, and was anxious to let him
see how well he had profited by his lesson when
he was last with them.
Mr. Wynn took the boy from Lucy’s side, and
lifted him on his knee, as he turned to young Jarman,
saying, “ What brings you here, sir, in such haste,
that you must rush heedlessly into the house?
Youre wrong, Owen lad,†he added, “in thinking
Jarman did it on purpose, though want of care is
sometimes as culpable as want of feeling.â€
The blacksmith boy was not a little disconcerted
at the presence of the minister ; but he was in no
humour to bear rebuke, so he answered savagely,
“Youd have run as I did, if yowd a father like
Pve got ; but I wont stand it any longer, ’ve made
up my mind. I'll be off, and he may get some one
else to do his work; then he'll be obliged to pay
those who slave for him something else than blows
for what they do. Father came home drunk last
night, and dragged me out of bed, and thrashed me
round the room as I was—for what I don’t know.
Td done nothing that I remember, but use his fishing-
rod; and this morning, because I hadn’t lighted the
forge fire, he struck me over the arm with one of the
irons. Look here,†he said, pulling up his shirt sleeve,
“it’s all black and swollen, and pains me dreadful
when I move it. 1 don’t care if he ts my father, I
wont stand it from any one ; I came here to ask one
198 HOW THE PARSONS DAUGHTERS TURNED
of the Miss Wynns to go down and fetch my clothes
for me, and to tell mother 1 was going away to
Bristol to get aboard a ship, and I'd write to her
soon. It an’t her fault, poor thing! She can’t
keep him off me, do what she will. If I'd been a
little bigger this morning, I'd have,â€â€”and the boy
crunched his teeth, and clenched his fist revenge-
fully.
“Silence, sir!†shouted the minister. “ How dare
you give vent to such thoughts in my house? If we
are to shelter you from your father’s rage, you must
have a different spirit from this.â€
At these words, Lucy crossed the room towards
her parent, and letting her hand fall on his shoulder,
whispered, “But, father, think how sadly the boy
has been ill-treated.â€
“My girl,†returned the minister, gently, “it’s
only in suffering that true nobility of nature can be
shown, for if ferocity begets ferocity, the persecuted
become as brutal as their persecutors. So far from
countenancing this lad in quitting his parent’s roof,
I shall consider it my duty to take him back to-
morrow.â€
The words were no sooner uttered, than the young
blacksmith turned on his heel, and with a dogged
jerk of his head, disappeared from the place.
“ He’s gone!†cried Lucy. “Run you after him,
Owen, and bring him back.â€
“Nay, nay,†replied the minister, “ stay you here,
THE IEART OF THE RUNAWAY. 199
Jad! The boy is in too dangerous a humour for you
to be trusted with him.†|
“See, father,†said Lucy, “ you've frightened him
from us. You, yourself, say we should be kind to
all, and more especially to those in affliction; and
yet when that poor boy seeks shelter from his father’s
fury, you turn him from you with harsh words.â€
“ THe webered threats against his parent, child, in
‘my presence,†responded Mr. Wynn, “and it was
my duty to rebuke him for so doing.â€
“Yes, father, but you were harsher than I ever
knew you yet, and what John Jarman wanted was
kindness, surely, in such a mood as his.â€
“Well, perhaps you're right, my gentle-hearted
girl,†said the minister ; “we men, you see, are too
quick and hasty, and know little how to make peace
like you.â€
Lucy kissed his forehead, as she said, “ Let me go
after him, and bring him back, father. Tl promise
you [ll not teach him to rebel against his parent.â€
“God bless you, child,†cried the old man; “go
and do as you will.â€
The anxious girl hastily put on her bonnet, and
was hurrying from the door, when Betty came
through the orchard gate.
“Oh! Betty, Betty!’ whispered Lucy, as she ran
up to her sister, “there’s been such a scene since
you've been away. Young Jarman’srun away from
home, and father wouldn’t shelter him.â€
£00 HOW TIE PARSONS DAUGHTERS TURNED
“I know all about it,†answered the girl, in the
same under tone. “I met the boy up the lane, as [
eame along, and he told me everything. He's in
Gwillim’s meadow, behind the haystack. I bade
him wait there till I’d spoken to father.â€
“Vil go and bring him back with me,†said
Lucy, “and you run in, and give father his tea in the
parlour. He doesn’t know how to deal with boys
like John Jarman. You'll find little Robin in
doors. Poor little fellow! he’s nearly broken-
hearted, too.â€
“Yes, yes, I know,†answered Betty, quickly ;
“John Jarman told me he trod on the watch Owen
had made for us, and that I dare say, Lucy, made
father more angry than he would have been.â€
“Did Jarman show you hisarm ?†inquired Lucy.
“What a shocking state it’s in!â€
“Yes, dear,†replied Betty, “it quite made me
shudder, poor boy! There you run to him, Lucy,
and I'll get something ready to bathe it with. We
can easily make him up a bed on the sofa for
to-night.â€
Lucy trotted off delighted with her mission, while
Betty entered the cottage, and proceeded to carry
out her sister’s injunctions.
Betty was busy in the litile parlour, making her
father’s tea, when her sister returned with the run-
away. As Lucy entcred, she whispered to the
TIE HEART OF THE RUNAWAY. 201
boy to do as she had told him. “ Come, John,†she
said, in an under tone to the lad, who hung back
moodily by the door, “never be ashamed of doing
what’s right; go and tell the little fellow you are
sorry you broke his watch ;†and as she said this, she
led the sullen boy to Owen, who was sitting by the
chimney corner, still lamenting his loss.
The blacksmith’s boy muttered sulkily, “I didn’t
mean to break your watch, Owen.â€
Owen Evans looked up, and held out his hand,
saying, “Let’s make it up, John! I didn’t know
you had been beaten, when I said you did it on pur-—
pose. But you're not really going to run away, are
you?’ anxiously asked the boy.
“No, no!†said Lucy, “he'll go home with me like
a good fellow in the morning, and I'll see his father,
then, and talk to him.â€
“T’m sure I wont,†growled the boy. “I’ve
made up my mind, and nothing shan’t stop me.
I’ve got the money Captain Jones gave me for
the squirrel; besides, there’s an aunt of mine
lives at Aberga’ny, and she'll help me on the
road a bit, I know. She was very good to me once
afore, when I was going to cut away to the iron
works—and I should ha’ done it too, if mother hadn’t
come over after me and told me as how father had
promised to treat me different. But I a’n’t quite
so little as I was then, and I wont stand being
knocked about any longer—that I wont.â€
902 HOW THE PARSONS DAUGHTERS TURNED
“Well, well, John,†interrupted Lucy, “we'll talk
of that another time. We'll have a nice tea now,
and sleep over the matter; then we'll see how it
looks in the morning. Come, John, you help me
set the things, for Betty I’m sure must be tired,
and want something after her walk.†.
“And can’t I do something, Auntie?†inquired
Owen, jumping from his chair.
“Oh yes,†replied Lucy; “you shall toast the
cakes while John puts the tray. Do you know,â€
continued the girl, as she handed Jarman the cups,
“T think our mare wants shoeing again, John.â€
“Y shouldn’t wonder,†returned the blacksmith,
“for it’s a good nine months since she was down at
the forge. LT remember I caught that owl of mine
in the dingle the night I brought her home.â€
“You helped to shoe her, didn’t you, John?†in-
quired Lucy, as she put the cake on the toasting
fork for Owen.
“Yes,†answered the boy; “I made one of her
shoes, and that was the first I ever made all by
myself.â€
“ Do you know, John,†said Lucy, delighted to
lead the boy’s thoughts into another channel, “I’ve
often fancied how strange it will be when you are
master of the forge at Llanvach, and we have
to send Jessie to you to be shod—you, a little fellow
I have nursed on my knee. Wouldn’t you like
to be able to work in iron, Owen?â€
THE TWEART OF THE RUNAWAY. | 203
“Ah! thaé I should!†replied the boy. “If I
eould only have worked in metal, Auntie, the
wheels of my watch would have been strong enough
to move the balance when Id put it together.â€
“T do think,†added the girl, “metal work is one
of the most wonderful things in the world. Dm
sure I can’t tell how you do it, John. Why when
I’ve been out with father, and he has taken up a bit
of rock, and has told me that was the stone the iron
was got from, I’ve wondered over and over again
how it was possible to make a horse-shoe, or any-
thing else out of that, and how clever you people
must be who do it.â€
Lucy noticed John Jarman smile with pleasure at
what she said, and was about to proceed, when Owen
inquired—
“ But do they, Auntie, get all the iron things out
of stone?â€
“'To be sure they do,†responded the blacksmith
boy, turning round sharply to the other. “Where
do you think the iron comes from? Ié doesn’t grow,
silly. When I have been over to the Works at
Merthyr with father, I've seen them smelting it
many a time, and a very pretty sight it is, too.â€
“Can't you tell us how they do it, John?†asked
Lucy, pleased to find the boy growing interested in
the subject; and as Betty entered the kitchen, the
girl made signs to her sister not to interrupt the '
conversation. |
204 HOW THE PARSONS DAUGHTERS TURNED
“Father's told me all about it often,†continued
young Jarman, as they sat at the tea-table. “You
see, Miss Wynn, he says that the metals are seldom
found pure in the earth, but mostly always mixed
with something else, and then they call them ‘ ores,’
The stone the iron’s got from in this. country,
doesn’t look to have a bit of iron in it; because, as
father says, it’s all rusted lke, and mixed up with
earth ; and iron-rust, you know, a’n’t anything like
iron, though it’s made out of it to be sure. Well,
as father says, if iron-rust is made out of iron, why
of course, iron can be made out of iron-rust.â€
“Yes, John,†chimed in Betty, “TI should think
so; but how to do it I’m sure I should never be
able to tell.â€
« Well, you see, that’s what. they call smelting,â€
answered the boy, not a little proud of what he
knew of the matter. “They put something into
the furnace to serve as a flux for the earth.â€
“What in the world’s that, John?’ asked both
the girls, anxious to Jet the lad see he knew so much
more than they did.
At this the blacksmith’s boy laughed outright.
“Why, that’s something,†he went on, “ that serves
to melt the earth that the iron’s mixed with in the
stone, and so to separate the metal frem it. You
see, it’s limestone they generally use for this purpose,
because lime makes what is called a ‘slag’ with the
earth ; father says the slag is a kind of glass, that
TIE HEART OF THE RUNAWAY. 205
melts with a great heat. Well, as the slag begins
to run, the iron of course comes from it. But,
you know, I told you it wasn’t pure iron, but only
iron-rust that was in the stone; so they put a lot of
coke into the furnace, as well as the limestone, and
that serves at the same time to unrust the iron;
for father says the coke when red-hot, takes
away from the iron just what the iron got when
rusting ; and so, you understand, the iron is left
behind, pure. Then it melts like the slag, but
as it's a good deal heavier it tumbles down to the
bottom of the furnace, and is there let run out into
moulds. Now, you remember, I told you the iron-
stone was made up of earth, and iron-rust. Well,
the lime, you see, melts out the earth, and the coke
unrusts the iron, and so, you know, the pure iron
must be left behind. You must excuse me, Miss
Wynn, if it an’t very plain, for ’m not much of a
scholard, you see.
“Oh, ’m sure you've explained it very well in-
deed, John,†replied Lucy. “I’ve often wondered
how it was done, and now I shall know all about
“t.â€
“Tt was Tubal Cain, John, who was the first
worker in metals,†remarked Betty.
“ Yes,†chimed in Lucy, “and the Greeks thought
it such a wonderful thing to do, that they positively
worshipped an old blacksmith of the name of
Vulcan.â€
206 HOW THE PARSONS DAUGHTERS TURNED
“Did they, though?†said the boy, laughing,
“Well, they don’t think so much of the trade now-
a-days,â€
Betty replied, “But every sensible person, I’m
sure, John, must know how much we are indebted
to such as you. Tather says it is the smith who
makes all the tools, and tools do all the work in
the world. Tve often heard him remark, that ag
the hand was the most useful of all our organs,
the tool—which was another hand to the work-
man—was the most useful of all instruments.â€
“Yes,†answered Jarman, “it’s a handy business
enough. I’ve often, myself, thought when the
plough-shares and the sickles has come to the
forge to be mended, how would people be able to
plough and reap without us?â€
“Yet, John,†said Betty, “you think of giving
up such a noble business as this to go risking your
life at sea ?â€
“ Ah,†exclaimed Owen, “TI only wish, John Jar-
man, youd heard Captain Jones tell me what he
did about a sailor’s hardships. I’m sure you wouldn't
have liked it then.â€
“The old captain has told me a lot of things that
way, answered the young blacksmith, “ but he only
does it to set me against the sea.â€
“Why should you say that, John?†asked Lucy ;
“Tm sure the gentleman wouldn’t tell you what was
unirue; and I can’t understand why you should
ed
THE HEART OF THE RUNAWAY. Q07
prefer such a business to your own. Why, asailor’s
only a carrier, at best; he can’t make a thing like
you.†|
“That’s true enough,†said the boy; “ but it must
be so pleasant to be on the water all your time, and
to go to foreign lands, and see what the worid is lke
in other parts.†|
“Tm sure I shouldn’t like the water at all,â€
added Betty, shuddering, “ with the chance of being
shipwrecked every minute, too. And only think,
John, if you were to go, the state your poor mother
would be in all the while you were away. You're
her only child, remember, and if she was to lose you,
I do think it would be the death of her. Dve heard
you yourself say, too, that your father’s very kind
to you when he is sober.â€
“Yes, so he is,†continued the lad; “but he’s
over at ‘the public’ half his time now, and mother
gets to fret dreadful about him, for the people
complains as the work’s neglected, and threatens to
take it to Bronllys, if they can’t have it done
sooner.â€
“And yet you, John,†said Lucy, “would run
away and leave her at such a time. Now just
think, lad, if your father gets to neglect his work
more and more for the drink, and the business is
broken up, what’s to become of your poor mother
then? Why, there'll be nothing but the workhouse
for her, and how would you like that ?â€
998 HOW THE PARSONS DAUGHTERS TURNED
Why, I couldn't bear it,†exclaimed the
abashed boy, as he drooped his head at the thought.
“No, I know you couldn't, John,†said Betty,
kindly ; “you've too fine a svirit for that. I'm sure
you'd rather do anything, and rather bear with any-
thing, than let her come to the parish in her old
age.â€
“Yes, so I would,†answered the blacksmith’s
boy, “ but—but—â€
“No buts, John,†said Lucy ; “surely a blow or
two isn’t much to put up’ with for her sake—after all
her care of you. If I’da mother, no cruelty could
ever make me forget my duty to her. And Tm
satisfied, John, that you yourself would work night
and day for yours.â€
“So I would,†he added.
“Well, then, think,†continued the girl, “if you
stay with her what a comfort you can be to her in
all her trouble. Then, if your father neglects the
business you can mind it, and what an honour it
will be to you, a mere boy, to keep the home to-
gether; that would repay you well for the blows
you've had to bear. But if you run away and leave
your poor mother, now that you are getting to an
age to help her, take my word for it, John, youd
never, never forgive yourself.â€
At this Betty rose from her seat, and going over
boy, put her arm round his neck as she said,
hn, you wont go away, will you ?â€
TUE HEART OF THE RUNAWAY. o0Â¥
The young blacksmith hid his face in his hands,
and sobbing aloud, cried, “No! I wont—I wont
go. Father may knock me about as he likes, but Pl
bear it all for her, though it ¢s hard to put up with
at the time.â€
“Yes, so it is, good fellow,†exciaimed, Betty, :
patting him on the back, “and so much the nobler
of you, John, to bear it. If your father forgets
what is due to you as his son, at least do you let
him see that you are not unmindful of what is due
to your parents ; and depend upon it, if you bear his
cruelty patiently, he'll see how wrong it is much
sooner than if you rebel against him.â€
“Father! father!’ whispered Lucy, as she ran
into the adjoining room, “John Jarman has pro-
mised to go back home to-morrow.â€
“God bless you for it,†returned the clergyman,
as he looked up from the book before him.
“ He’s a good boy at heart, ’m sure,†continued
the girl, “though he has a spirit of his own.â€
“T dare say, my child, he’s like the best of us,
a strange compound of good and evil,†said the
minister, “and no one knows so well as my girls
how to bring out the one and subdue the other.
You see, Lue, while ’'m busy here preaching kind-
ness, you're practising it. Youre better ministers
of peace, girls, than your father is.†|
Mr. Wynn rose from his seat, and entering the
_ kitchen, went towards the young blacksmith. “Ty
P
210 HOW THE PARSON'S DAUGHTERS TURNED
glad to hear, boy,†said he, as he took him kindly
by the hand, “that the prodigal is to return on
the morrow. Filial ingratitude, my lad, is the
worst of all kinds of ingratitude, for it puts an
end to the most sacred of the social ties. The
birds and the beasts leave their parents. immedi-
ately they can shift for themselves ; for such is the
care of life where there is no foresight, and no
store for the future, that each has enough to do
to struggle for itself in the world. Moreover, few
of these live to become old and helpless, and go
t. need the care of their offspring in after-life, as
we do. But man, you see, Jarman, is twice a
child; and they who have toiled to foster their chil-_
dren in their helplessness, comé, in the round of
nature, if they be spared, themselves to need the
like fostering care from the hands of those they've
reared. For as soon as the young are getting to
help themselves, the Almighty has ordained that
the old should mostly be losing the power to do so.
And as He has made it the duty of the parent
to protect the child in the weakness of infancy,
so has He made it the duty of the child to protect
the parent in the like weakness of old age. Why
not strive, lad, to be hke Owen here? /Tis greatest
ambition is to be able to assist his parent; and P’m
sure when his father has taught him the means cf
earning a livelihood, he'll be the last ta think of
running away, and leaving him, just at 4 time, too,
THE HEART OF THE RUNAWAY. 211
when his labuur is getting to be of some service
to the old man. Ae thinks how his father has to .
work. for him now, and longs, like a grateful boy,
to work for his father in return.â€
As Owen heard these words, he could not help
thinking of the vow he had made, that he would so
excel the blacksmith’s boy, that he should hear his
praises wherever he went. But the moment after,
the generous lad felt it unworthy of him to triumph
over the other at such a moment, and went towards
Mr. Wynn, saying: “But John, sir, is returning,
so that he may work for his parents too.â€
“T’m glad to hear it,†said the minister. “But
come, well say no more about the matter; John
and I will pass the evening talking over pleasanter
things, and in the morning Lucy shall walk with
him down to his father’s, and get Mr. Jarman
to promise to treat the boy more kindly for the
future.†|
“Now, little Robin,†said Betty, laughing, “it’s
time for you to think of returning to your nest.
Do you see the sky how red it is, yonder? It’s
as much as you'll do now to get home before dark.â€
As Owen was about to leave, young Jarman fol-
lowed outside the door, saying, “Just call at
mother’s, will you, Owen, as you go back, and tell
her I’m up here, or else she'll be getting frightened
about me.â€
“Qh, yes, John, I'll be sure to let her know,†re-
PR 2
212 HOW TILE PARSON S DAUGHTERS, ETC,
plied Owen ; “and shall I say youre coming hom,
to-morrow ?â€
“Yes, you may if you like,†responded the young
blacksmith. Then as the little fellow was pulling
back the gate, Jarman ran after him once more, and
laying his hand on his shoulder, said: “I didn’t
mean to hit your donkey, Owen, with that bit of
iron the day you came to the forge. I should have
told you so before, only you chose to quarrel about
it. We'll make it up now, wont we, eh?â€
Owen pressed Jarman’s hand affectionately, saying, .
“We're friends now, John, and wont fall out again ;â€
and hurried off, thinking how much happier he felt
now that he was at peace with his former con
panion.
CHAPTER VIIL
THE BOY HAS A TALK WITH THE OLD SAILOR
ABOUT THE “LOG.â€
Harty in the next week, to Owen’s great delight,
Mrs. Pugh came to the cottage to say she had been
sent to fetch him, to spend that afternoon with the
Captain.
On returning with the housekeeper, Owen found
the sailor by himself in the little parlour, and the
boy had no sooner entered the room, than the Cap-
tain cried—“How about the watch, youngster?
have you got it altogether ship-shape yet?†wheres
upon Owen proceeded to recount to the old man how
he had made it, and how, to his great annoyance,
it had been broken shortly afterwards.
“Well, never mind,†said the sailor, at the con-
clusion of the tale; “T sent for you this afternoon,
lad, to make you a present of a real silver one.â€
_ Owen was so startled at the unexpected news,
that he could hardly stammer out his thanks.
“i's the first one,†answered the sailor, “I ever
214 THE BOY HAS A TALK WITH
had yiven to me, and that was when I passed my
examination for fourth officer in the East India
Merchant Service. I used to call it the ‘ Tea Service’
in my young days, ha! ha! I was a sad wicked
dog when I was a middy, to be sure — always
rigging out bits of wax candle on a hook with
feathers stuck at the side of ’em, to catch the
boneta—that’s a large fish, and very tidy eating, too,
I can tell you, when one hasn’t had a bit of fresh food
for months. You see, we suspend the hock to the
end of the dolphin striker—which is a wooden spar
hanging down under the bow-sprit—so that when
the ship pitches, the candie and the feathers just
dip into the water, and then, as the ship rises again,
and cuts through the sea, they skim through the air
and seem for all the world like one of the flying fish
that the boneta chases in those parts. Flying-fish,
youngster, you must know, can only keep above
water as long as their wings—which are only large
fins after all—are wet, so the bit of candle skim-
ming over the water at the end of the dolphin
striker, makes a perfect model of them. Many and
many a live flying-fish I’ve caught, merely by putting
a lighted candle at the scuttle at night-time ; for then
am theyll dart like moths at a flame. Many 2
dolphin too, ’'ve hauled up by the bit of candle I spoke
of. You've heard about the dying dolphin, young-
ster, I dare say. Well, it’s no fable, I can tell you;
for after they’re taken out of the water, every quiver
THE OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “Log.†215
they give as they le gasping at your feet, brings out
a new colour; at one moment they’re all silver like,
the next they’re purple and gold, and the minute
after, spotted all over with blue; you can see
their agonies painted before your eyes ag one tint
trembles into another. But all this, boy, has
nothing to do with what I wanted to say to you ;
only you see the thoughts will come into my
head, and they run away with me now. I seem
to get to have no more power over them than if
I was dreaming. Do you know,†went on the old
Captain, “I’ve been thinking, Owen, as you've
got such a fancy for clocks and watches, I’d tell
you something about time; for, to know well
how to make a machine to measure time, boy,
we must have some notion of that which we want
to measure. Well, did you ever think what time
was, my little lad?†|
“No, sir; I’m sure I never did,†answered the
boy.
“Time then, youngster,†replied the Captain, “ is
the measure of the rate at which anything moves.â€
“The measure—of the rate—at which anything
moves,’ echoed Owen, as he repeated the words
slowly in an under tone to himself.
“So you can’t make it out, boy, eh?†asked the
old sailor. “Look you now! Aboard a’ship we
measure the rate at which the vessel is going through
the water by the log-line—that’s a line with knots
216 THE BOY HAS A TALK WITH
all along it at regular distances, and a piece of wood
which we call ‘the log’ at the end of it. When the
log is thrown on the water it remains where it falls,
unless, indeed, there are any currents running—but
well put them out of the question just now ; s0, as
the log stops in the same place, the line is drawn from
off the reel it’s wound upon, precisely at the same
rate as the ship moves. Well, the knots I told you of
are usually placed along the line at every 44th foot,
because that’s the 120th part of a mile, and the 120th
part of an hour, you know, is half a minute; so you
ean easily understand if the ship is going a mile
i the hour, one of these knots will run owt every
half minute, and if she is going 5 miles in the hour,
why of course 5 of the knots will run out in the
halfminute then. Well, while one of the men heaves
the log, another stands by with the half-minute glass,
and according to the number of knots that have run
out by the time the sand is down, so many miles—
‘knots,’ as we sailors say—is the ship going per hour.
Now you see, Owen, in this case the half-minute
glass is the measure of the rate at which the ship
is moving. But in the same way as we discover
the rate of moving by the time, we might, if the ship
always went at the same speed, discover the time by
the rate of moving. Let us suppose for instance,
jad, that we could make the ship go regularly 5 miles
an hour, then every 5 knots along the line would
stand for half'a minute, and every 10 for a minnte,
THE OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “tog.†917
of course; so that when 500 had ran out, we should
know that half an hour had passed, or ‘one bell,’ as
we call it at sea.†.
“But even if you cowd make the ship go regu-
larly, sir,†said Owen, “surely that would be a very
funny way of telling what a clock it was ?â€
“T dare say it may seem strange to you, lad,†re-
plied the old sailor, “but still it’s only by a similar
process that we're able to tell what a clock it is in
nature. The earth, you see, is the ship were all
a-board, while the sun vs our log floating in the ocean
of space, and we tell the tume sumply by the rate at
which the earth travels.â€
“But,†laughed the boy, “you haven’t any line
to your log, to measure how fast the ship’s going,
sir ?â€
“Well, now, just fancy the log-line to be wound
ona largereel, lad,†returned the old Captain, rubbing
his head to brighten his ideas, “—so large, indeed,
that as the line ran out the reel would turn round
once only in twenty-four hours ; then, of course,
it would not matter whether you saw the line or
not, for you could tell the time merely by watching
the reel revolve as the vessel went on. When it had
turned a quarter round youd know six hours had
passed—half round, twelve hours—and once entirely
round, that a whole day had gone.â€
“Oh, I see,†exclaimed Owen, “then the earth ia
the ship and the reel as well.â€
2138 THE BOY HAS A TALK WITH
“ Av, ay, that’s about it, youngster. Now, there
are three such logs,†continued the sailor, “ floating
in space, which will serve us to measure our time on
the earth by. And these are the sun, the stars,
and the moon; but the worst of 16 is, they all tel]
different tales. You think, I dare say, youngster,
that a natural day is twenty-four hours long ?â€
“ And isn’t it?’ inquired Owen.
“No, lad,†said the Captain; “but the first ques.
tion to be settled is, what is a natural day? Well,
let us see what goes on in the sky during this time.
In the first place, we notice the sun to come up
somewhere about the east, and to appear to ascend
gradually higher and higher in the heavens, until
mid-day, when it reaches its greatest altitude;
then it begins to sink, seeming to fall lower and
lower as the evening draws in; and at length it
disappears altogether from our sight in some part of
the west, or opposite quarter to that it rose in—
having appeared to make the entire sweep of the
sky above us, and to have kept, while it did so,
more to the southern than the northern part of it.
After this, the twilight sets in, and the stars begin
to peep out, the brightest appearing at first, but as the
darkness increases, more and more specks of light
shine forth, till the whole sky is spangled over with
them. Now, if we turn ourselves south, and fix
our eyes on some of the most brilliant of the stars
—taking care to select such as we shall be sure to
THE OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “Log.†919
know again after looking away from them for some
time—and refer their apparent places to some build-
ings or trees round about us, we shall find, after
some few hours, on comparing these stars again with
the objects we referred them to, that as the night
has advanced they have shifted their places, and
moved in a westward direction. Those towards the
east, for instance, will appear to us to have risen
from the horizon, while those which lie about the
west will seem to have sunk towards it, and be
noticed finally to disappear beneath it. Others,
again, in the eastern quarter, will be observed to
come up as if out of the earth, and, joining in the
general procession, pursue their course with the
rest towards the opposite point of the sky. After
this, if we turn our eyes to the stars which
are far above the horizon, and notice their
movements, we shall find that, whereas those in
the extreme south appear to describe only a small
arc, or portion of a circle, in their course across
the firmament, and to remain but for a short
time in sight, the stars, as we progress towards
the centre of the vault, continue to be visible
for a longer and longer period, and seem to take
larger and larger sweeps through the heavens, till
some appear to describe precisely half a circle,
and keep twelve hours above the horizon, those
rising exactly in the east setting exactly in
the west. Then, if we carry our eyes /farther
220 THE BOY WAS A TALK WITH
northward, we shall observe stars ogain which jn
their motion just graze the horizon at its north
point, or only dip below it for a moment, and
others that never touch the horizon at all, but
keep always above it, revolving in such a manner
that we can see they would, in about twenty-
four hours, complete an entire circle in the sky,
while the circles described by them grow smaller
and smaller as they approach towards one point,
which seems to be the common centre of all the
movements, and which alone amidst the whole shijt-
ung train appears to be immovable. We shall
farther observe that the relative places of all the
stars—with the exception of some two or three
wanderers in the south—are not changed among one
another by their continued movements, but that at
whatever hour of the night they are observed, or in
_whatever part of the heavens they appear, they
always form with each other the very same groups
or figures as when first we noticed them. And
lastly, we shall perceive, if we've patience to watch
through a long winter’s night, that those stars
which we saw in the early part of the evening setting
in the west, have again, as the morning comes round,
risen in the east; while those which were rising
when we first began to notice the heavens, have
completed their course, and set just as we are
ending our observations. Many and many a time
have I watched these things, boy, as I paced the
THE OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “LOG.†- 99} -
deck in the night at sea, and I cai: behold the entire
starry band now trooping before my eyes almost
as vividly as I did then. But where did I leave off, -
lad, eh?’
“ You were telling me, sir, what a day is,†replied
the youth.
“Oh! I remember,†returned the Captain. “ Well,
you see, youngster, the course of everything in the»
heavens is to move from some particular part of
the sky back to precisely the same place again in
a certain number of hours. Now, astronomers, boy,
call a day the length of time that elapses between
the apparent departure of some celestial body from
a certain point in the heavens and its apparent
return to precisely the same point.â€
“But how can they tell,†asked the little fellow,
“when a star or the sun reaches precisely the same
spot in the sky, sir? ‘There are no marks up there
to guide them.â€
“That’s true enough, lad,†returned the sailor.
“But there's a very simple way of doing this.
You've only to turn your face towards the south, and
as you look through a small hole in the shutter or
in a plate of tin fastened to your window, to fix your
eye upon a sharp well-defined line at the corner of
' some building a little distance from you—such as
the edge of a stack of chimneys—and then notice
the exact time at which any star that you would
know again disappears behind the edge of the.
9.22 THE BOY AAS A TALK WITIL
stack on two evenings fullowing. ‘This, of course,
will give you the precise period that the star
takes to return to the same spot in the heavens,
You can make the same observation with the sun,
only you must look through a piece of smoked glass
then, and observe first the moments when one edge
of the orb disappears, and then the time of the
other’s doing so, behind the same place. The in-
terval between the vanishing of the two edges must
then be halved and added to the time of the disap-
pearance of the first edge, and by that means you
will ascertain what you could not directly hava
observed—the time of the disappearance of the
centre.â€
“So, then, a day,†said Owen, “is the time that
the sun or the stars take to return to the same
place in the heavens as they were in twenty-four
hours before.â€
“Hold hard!†cried the sailor, “not twenty-four
hours, boy! for if we measure the day in the manner
I’ve told you by the stars, we shall find it’s but
little more than 23 hours 56 minutes long, or very
nearly 4 minutes short of the 24 hours, and that’s
what is called a sidereal day. If, on the other hand,
we measure oy the moon, the day is—on the average
—24 hours and 54 minutes, or very nearly 25 hours
long; and this is what is called a lunar day.
Whereas, if we reckon by the sun, we find that the
leugth of the day is never the same for two days
THE OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “LOG.†— 998
together. Sometimes it’s more, and sometimes it’s
less than twenty-four hours. About the end of.
September the day is half a minute short, and about
the end of December it’s nearly as much too long.
And it’s only a very few times in the year that the
day, as measured by the sun, is precisely 24 hours
long.* Now this again is what’s termed a sclar day.â€
“Dear, dear! how odd!†cried the bewildered
little fellow; “for if a day in nature, as you say,
Captain Jones, is seldom twenty-four hours in
length, all our clocks must be wrong.â€
“ Nay, nay, my lad, that doesn’t follow,†replied
the sailor; “for if you were to keep noticing the
time the sun takes to return to the same place over-
head day after day for a whole year, yowd find, at the
twelvemonth’s end, on adding up the lengths of all
the different days and dividing the total by the gross
number of days in the year, that you'd have what’s
called an average of 24 hours to every day throughout
the twelve months. For if you remember, I told
you that some of the solar days were too long, and
some too short ; so that at the year’s end, you see,
etna a A RR are Srereninenenyn tiene
* The times above referred to are generally a day or two
about the 10th of February, the 14th of May, the 26th of July,
and the 2nd of November in every year. The solar day, how-
ever, at such periods, does not coincide with the clock day in
any other way than its length, for when it is XII by the sun
it is always at these times some few minutes before or after
XIT by the clock.
Sah THE BOY iiAS A TALK WITiE
the long ones just make up for the short ones, and
that what’s called a mean solar-day; that is to say,
it’s not any particular solar day, but an average of
the whole of the solar days throughout the year.â€
“T can’t quite make out what you mean, sir,†in-
terrupted Owen, “because I don’t know what an
average is.â€
“Well, youngster, that’s not very difficult to ex-
plain to you,†answered the sailor. “ Now, suppose
i was to give you 6d. this week, and 1d. next week,
and 5d. the week after, and ls. the week after that ;
and then suppose you wanted to find out at the
month’s end how much I’d given you on an average
each week—that is to say, not in any one week, but
how much I should have given you if I had por-
tioned the money out equally through the whole
time. Let us see how we should have to set to work
to find out that. Why first we should add the
sums all together; we should say 6d. and a ld. and
dd. and ls. make 2s. or 24d. in all. So you
perceive I should have given you 24d. altogether
in the month ; and then dividing this amount by
the number of weeks I’d been paying it to you—
and that would be 4 of course—we should find that
I had given you just 6d. every week—on the average,
as 16 is called. For you see, lad, it would come to
precisely the same thing at the month’s end, if I
were to pay you 6d. a week regularly for 4 weeks
THE OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “LOG.†225
running, as if I were to give you first 6d., then 1d,
then 5d., and then 1s.†|
“That's very plain, sir,†said the boy.
“However, to impress the point on your mind,
it’s better, perhaps, to put it to the practical proof,
so here’s 6d. to begin with,†chuckled the good-
humoured old man, as he drew the piece of silver
from his waistcoat pocket and placed it in the boy’s
hand, saying, “ Now mind, youngster, I shall give
you a different sum for three weeks after this one,
and if, at the month’s end, you can tell me how
much I’ve given you every week—on the average—
why you may keep the whole. But if you can’t tell
me the average amount I’ve paid you, why I shall
expect you to give the money all back again. ‘So
keep a sharp look out a-head, for this'll brighten
your wits a bit, Pll warrant.â€
The little fellow laughed, as he answered, “I
should recollect what an average is, sir, without that,
I think; though you're very good, I’m sure, to teach
me in so nice a way.â€
“ But bless us and save us, where was I, Owen !â€
said the old Captain, tapping his forehead as if he
were sounding a cask to see whether there were any-
thing init. “It’s all gone right out of my head
again; you see it’s so strange, boy, T can remember
everything I learnt when I was a youngster, more
than half a century ago, whereas, if you were +o
Q
226 THE BOY HAS A TALK WITH
ask me I really don’t believe I could tell you
what I had for dinner yesterday. Let me see, now, |
what did I have?’ added the sailor, half to himself
“Tt wasn’t pickled pork ; no, no, we finished that a
good bit back—it could’nt have been eggs and bacon,
for that always disagrees with me—lIrish stew, no,
that’s not it eithsr—well, it’s no good trying—but I
knew I couldn’t before I began. What was I say-
ing, though, lad?â€
“You were telling me, sir, about the average—
a—a—the average solar day, didn’t you call it, sir?â€
answered the boy, hesitating over the hard words.
“Ay, ay, youngster, that was it,†exclaimed the
sailor. “Well now, youngster, we'll put the names of
the different kind of days into plain English, for it’s
the hard crack-jaw terms that puzzle boys like you,
and we'll say there’s a star-day, a moon-day, a sun-
day—though the last doesn’t mean the day after
Saturday, mind, but the day measured by the sun—
and an average or mean day. A better name
for the last, however, would be a clock-day. Now
each of these days is of a different length, simply
because they are measured by different logs. The
star-day is measured by the time the stars take to
return to the same spot in the heavens; the moon-
day is measured in the same way by the moon; and
the sun or solar day in like manner by the sun;
while the average or mean day is no particular day
at all, but simply one that is come at bv adding
THE OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “ LOG.†997
togcther the length of every one of the sun or solar
days throughout the year, and dividing the total by
the entire number of days, in order to make them
each of the same length—just as you are to do, Owen,
at the end of the month with the four weeks’ different
pay Pm to give you. Doyou understand it now, lad?â€
“ Perfectly, sir, thank you,†replied Owen.
“Well, lad,†continued the old man, “the length
of the days, and even the years on the earth, is dif-
ferent, according as they are measured by different
logs in the heavens. Now, youd hardly think it, I
dare say, but a star-year is just one star-day longer
than a sun-year; that is to say, the star-year con-
sists, in round numbers, of 365 solar days, and of 366
star-days. For if you were to observe, in the way
IT told you, the return of the sun and any star
you please to the. same spot overhead, day after day,
for a whole twelvemonth, you'd find, at the year’s
end, that the star had returned 366 times, and the
sun only 365 times. So that, as a day is the length
of time between the return of any celestial body to
the same place in the sky, the star-ycar must
~ be one day longer than the sun-year. And now, my
little man, I'll tell you the reason of this.â€
“Oh! do if you please, sir,†asked the lad; “for
I can’t make it out at all, now; and I cau always
remember a thing so much better when I know the
reason of it.â€
“Well, my boy,†continued the sailor, “if you
Q 2 |
(228 THE BOY HAS A TALK WITH
were to set out in a ship, and keep on sailing to the
west'ard till you got right round the world, and
came back to the place you started from, youd
appear to have lost a day; that is, though you
might have entered every day in your log as regu-
larly as the day passed while you were- on the
voyage, youd find when youd got back that what
you called Monday the 21st of May, for instance,
the people who had stopped at home would declare
was Tuesday the 22nd.â€
“Ts that really true, sir?†inquired the astonished
lad.
“True, boy? Why, it’s been done over and over
again,†answered the Captain. “And what’s just as
strange, if you kept sailing to the eastard, instead
of the west’ard, as before, you'd find, on your
return, that you'd gained a day then; and that what
you reckoned up as Monday, the 21st of May, as
we said before, the people at home would stand you
out hard and fast was Sunday the 20th.†|
Owen could keep his countenance no longer, and
bursting into a hearty laugh, at the apparent ab-
surdity, said, “ Well, I never heard of such strange
things before.â€
Old Captain Jones was tickled at the boy's
mirth, and having indulged in a good chuckle him-
self, said, after a few minutes’ rest, “Now suppose,
youngster, you had been a year away, why, of
course, on your return you would have had, if you'd
Tilg OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “Log.†929
been sailing to the east’ard, just 366 days to your
year, precisely as there are 366 days to the star-
year.â€
“Yes, sir, I see,†said Owen ; “ but why it should
be so I can’t make out.â€
“Why, boy,†replied the sailor, “you would have
been sailing then—for we supposed you to go,
you know, jrom west to east—in the same direction
as the earth itself moves; and since the earth goes
round so many times in the course of the year, and
you yourself in the ship had gone once round it be-
sides, in the same time, why, of course, it must have
appeared to you to have made one turn more than
the usual number ; for there is your own turn round
it, remember, to be added to the others. Whereas,
if you had been sailing in the opposite direction
to the earth’s motion—or from east to west—the earth
must have seemed to you to have made one turn
fess than usual ; because, while it was going round so
many times one way, your ship would have gone
round once the contrary way, and this revolution, of
course, would make the year appear to be one turn
short.†-
“T think I begin to understand a little what you
mean,†remarked the lad, thoughtfully.
“Well now, youngster, the sun, you know,â€
answered his friendly tutor, “appears to go round
the earth from east to west, and to do so 365 times
in the course ofthe year. But while the sun is doing
230 THE BOY HAS A TALK WITH
this, astronomers have discovered that it seems also to
be continually shifting its place among the stars, go
that it appears to pass through one regular line of
them, and to make the entire circuit of the heavens
in the twelve months. That is to say, the sun is found
to be among exactly the same stars at the twelve-
month’s end as it was twelve months before.
Well, this apparent yearly revolution of the sun
among the stars, boy, takes place in the opposite
direction to its apparent daily revolution round the
earth, which you know is from east to west, while
the other is from west to east. So you see, it
comes to the same thing as the ship sailing round
the earth the contrary way to its motion. The
consequence is that, whereas the stars appear to go
round the earth 366 times in the course of the
year, the sun appears to go round it only 365 times
in the same period; because it seems while it’s
doing this to go round once in the reverse direc-
tion. For the earth really turns round 366
times in the year, though we fancy, from there
being but 365 days and nights in that time, that
it makes only the latter number of revolutions.
The fact is, my boy, that owing to the apparent
backward motion of the sun among the stars, the
earth has to make the 365th part more than one
turn round every day, in order to bring the sun
into the same place over our heads, or, in other
words, to finish the natural day. So that it is clear
THE OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “1LOQ@.†931
that in the course of the year the 365 revolutions,
with all the 365th parts added to them, must be
equal to 366.â€
“Oh! thank you, sir,†exclaimed Owen ; “I think
i can make out what you mean.â€
“ But let us understand, Owen, before we go any
further,†proceeded the old man, “what a year
really is. Well, I told you, if you remember,
that the sun, while appearing to come back to the
same place over our heads, day after day, seems at
the same time to be moving in a contrary direction
through the stars. Now if the sun’s course through
the stars be watched from time to time, and his
different positions among them be pricked down on
a chart, in the same way as we mark the course of a
ship, over the different parts of the earth, we shall
find that it appears to make the entire circuit of the
heavens, and to get round again in a certain period to
the very same point among the stars as that which
it previously set out from. It is this period that con-
stitutes what 1s called a year. So mind, lad, a day
is the length of time that the sun or any other
heavenly body takes to travel from a point over our
heads, round again to the same point ; whereas a
year is the length of time that the sun takes to
travel from any place among the stars, round again
to the same place among the stars.â€
The boy nodded assent,and the Captain proceeded.
« You must bear in mind then, lad, that the sun-
232 THE BOY HAS A TALK WITIT
year is not exactly 365 days and a quarter long,
but a little better than 11 minutes short of that
period ; for as the return of the seasons depends
on the sun-year, we shall find, if the exact
length of it be not taken into account, that
our longest and shortest days will be falling at
different dates in different years; and, indeed, the
return of our spring, summer, autumn, and winter,
rendered altogether vague and unsettled.â€
“J think I shall not forget that, sir,†said the lad.
“ Now,†continued the Captain, “we know whata
sun-year is, and a star-year too. But as there was a
moon-day as well as a sun and a star-day, so is there
a moon-year as well as a sun and star-year ; for the
moon, while it seems togo round the earth from day to
day, appears to traverse the stars, and to make the
tour of the heavens in a certain period, just the
same as the sun does—though in a much shorter
time. Indeed, so much shorter a time does the
moon take to do this, that the period of its return
to its former position among the heavenly bodies, is
called a month rather than a year. Accordingly, the
lunar or moon-year is made to consist of 12
months or lunations, as they are called. Then, as
there are nearly 29 days 13 hours in each month,
there can be but barely 354 days 9 hours in the
moon-year; so that this kind of year, you see, is no
less than 10 days 21 hours shorter than the sun-
year.â€
THE OLD SATTOR ADOUT THE “LOG.†933°
“But you know, sir,†said Owen, “ there was not
only a star, a sun, and a moon-day in the same way
as there is a star, a sun, and a moon-year, but there
was an average or mean day, as you called it, sir. Is
there then an average or mean year, Captain Jones?â€
“Very well said, my little man,†answered the
sailor, “that’s just what I was going to tell you.
Well, you see, in olden times, many, many years ago’
—the Romans (they were a great people who
lived a long time back in Italy) were in the habit ot
calculating their year by the moon* But as the
moon-year was several days shorter than the sun-
year, which regulates the return of summer and
winter, why they found, that after a certain period,
their summer used to get round to the same month
as their winter had previously fallen upon—which
is the same thing as if our Midsummer-day was to
come at Christmastime. Thus the Roman year got
to be so fickle and unsettled like, that the High
Priests, in those times, were obliged to publish a table
to tell the people when the spring and other seasons
began; while the magistrates and other great folks,
in order to make the seasons fall as near as possible
in the same months, used occasionally to lengthen or
SE A RN NN SU EE: FR to
* The Roman lunar year was 61 days short of the solar year.
It consisted of only 10 lunations instead of 12, and had an extrm
month thrown in—or ‘‘intercalated,†to speak technically—every
third year. The intercalated lunar year is termed the ‘‘lunar
embolumic year.’
234: THE BOY HAS A TALK WITH.
shorten the months just as the fancy took them,
At last, however, the poor Romans got into such q
confusion about their days, and months, and years,
and seasons, that Julius Cesar, who was one of their
greatest kings like, called an eminent astronomer*
to his assistance, and it was then arranged to change
the mode of reckoning by the moon-year, to that of
the sun-year. Still, as the sun-year was 365 days
and nearly a quarter long, the question became, what
were they to do with the odd hours every year? -
Well, after twisting and turning the matter well
over, they settled that it would be best to have two
years, one of 365 days long, and the other of 366,
and to make the year of 365 days go on for three
years, and the one of 366 days occur every fourth
year ; that is to say, youngster, they cast the quarter
of a day at the end of each year over to every fourth
year ;f and as four quarters must make a whole, they
added one day then to the 365 days in the other
years.†|
“Oh! I see,†cried the little fellow, growing
more and more interested in the subject. “That
was very clever ; wasn’t it, sir ?â€
* Sosigenes of Alexandria.
+ The Roman intercalary day, or, in other words, the extra
day inserted in the calendar every fourth year—as our 29th of
February—was made to fall on the 6th day of the calends of
March ; that is to say, this sixth day was reckoned twice every
fourth year, and so got to be called ‘‘bis sextus dies,†whence
the name of our ‘‘ bissextile year.â€
THE OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “LOG.â€
“Yes, that it was,†replied the sailor, “and it
occurred about 45 years before the birth of Christ.
You may have some notion of the state that the
Romans’ reckoning was in before that time, when I
tell you they were obliged to pass an act of par-
liament like, to make the year previous to that in
which the change took place 445 dayslong. It was
owing to this circumstance that.that year was called
“the year of confusion.†Well it might have been,
too, I’m sure; for how the c&ptains managed about
their quarter's pay in that year is more than I can
tell. AJII I know is, I shouldn’t have liked to have
served in their merchant service 445 days for a
twelvemonth’s pay. And what the landlords did
about their rents, or the old Roman ladies, with
long annuities like, about their dividends at that
time, puzzles me sadly to make out. Dear! dear!
it must have been a nice muddle to be sure!â€
The couple paused for a while to amuse themselves
with fancying all kinds of strange things that must
have come to pass at such a time.
Suddenly, however, the old man broke off with
his customary “ Dear, dear! what will become of me!
I can’t remember a thing now, unless it’s what hap-
pened to me when I was almost a youngster like you,
Where on earth were we?†he inquired for about
the hundredth time.
Owen smiled, as he reminded the Captain that he
had stopped at the year of confusion.
256 THE BOY HAS A TALK WITH
“ Ay, ay, lad, so we were,†tittered the old man,
“and we've not got out of the confusion yet, I can
tell you. Well now, Owen, I was telling you that
the sun-year was not quite 360; days long.â€
“Yes, sir,†replied the boy, quickly, “ you said it
was a little better than 11 minutes short of the
quarter.â€
“Bravo! bravo !†shouted the Captain, clapping
his hands; “what would I give to have your
noddle, you young rogue you.†And as he said
so he took hold of the boy’s hair and rolled his head
playfully about, saying, “You can’t sell it me, can
you! But we must keep to our bearings, for I’ve still
a little more to tell you before you go home. You
see then, lad, the sun-year is, as near as we can come
to it, 11 minutes and 10 seconds short of the 3654
days. Consequently, when his Roman majesty got
overhauling the reckoning, he and his astronomer
didn’t set it straight after all, but made the four
years altogether 44 minutes and 40 seconds longer
than they were in nature.â€
“ But surely, sir,†remarked Owen, “that didn’t
make much difference.â€
“Didn't it though!†answered the old sailor, “let
us see now. Well, Julius Cesar, you know, was
trying to give us an average sun-year ; but his year
being more than the average period, the consequence
was, though the error was trifling fur 4 years, that
when it came to hundreds of years the difference got
TIE OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “ LOG.†937
to be pretty plain; for you'd find, if you calculated
it, that in about every 129 years the seasons would,
according to Cxsar’s average year, be coming round
one day earlier than they used before that time.
So, in about the 15th century, the people got to
wonder what on earth had come to their longest
and shortest day. Instead of falling towards
the end of June and December—as those days
should, if the average year had been exact, and
as history told them they used—why they'd
wriggled themselves up to the other side of the
middle of those months; that is to say, the time
of the seasons had got out no less than ten days
since the reckoning was altered. Accordingly
another gentleman took-the matter in hand, and
he was Pope Gregory XIII. It’s from him we
have our present average sun-year, or Gregorian
year as they call it, in contradistinction to the
Julian one. Well, lad, Julius Cesar arranged
that every year which was exactly divisible by 4
should consist of 366 days, and all the others of 365;
but Pope Gregory finding that this made the year
too long by about one day in 129 years, settled to
do with the hundredth years what Cesar had done
with the other years; that is to say, he determined
that only each 400th year should consist of 366 days,
and every other hundredth year of merely 365 instead
of 366, as all the hundredth years would have done
according to theJulian arrangement—since every one
238 THE BOY HAS A TALK WITH
of them is capable of being divided by 4 without
any remainder. So you see, boy, Pope Gregory
shortened the average Julian year in this manner
by three days in every 400 years.â€*
« Dear, dear, how clever!â€
“ But Gregory didn’t finish there, lad,†continued
the Captain ; “for you know I told you the seasons
had got about ten days ahead of their proper dates,
Accordingly, he ordered that after the 4th of Oc-
tober, 1582, ten entire days should be struck out of
that year, and that the dates should run on—not as
usual the 4th of October, the 5th, 6th, and so forth
—but jump right away from the 4th to the L5th.
So you see, Owen, in the year 1582 there was really
no oth of October, nor a 6th, nor a 7th, nor indeed
any day between the 4th and 15th.â€
“ Bless me, how odd!†said the astonished lad.
“Suppose one’s birth-day had fallen on one of those
days—and somebody’s must, I fancy—why, they
wouldn't have had a birth-day at all that year.â€
“That's true enough, youngster,†added the sailor,
* It will be found, on calculating, that whereas the Julian
arrangement made the average year 11 minutes 10 seconds longer
than the solar or tropical year, the Gregorian arrangement makes ;
it only a fraction more than 22 seconds longer. This amounts
to 2 hours 28 minutes and 40 seconds in every 400 years, which is
scarcely a day in 8000 years ; or, but 2 days 14 hours 24 minutes
in every 10,000 years. This, as Sir John Herschel observes,
is surely ‘‘more than sufficient for all human purposes—those
of the astronomer excepted, who is in no danger of being led
into error from such a cause.â€
THE OLD SAILOR ABOUT THE “LOG.†939.
tittering. “TI only wish they’d have done the same
thing in my time, and then I might have thought
myself a year younger, you know. But to finish,
Owen—for it'll be getting late—it wasn’t until the
year 1752 that the change of style, as it is called,
took place in our own country, and then eleven
days were struck out of the calendar of that
year; so that the last day of ‘Old Style, as the
phrase goes, was the 2nd of September, and then
the date made a leap right over to the 14th, ‘New
Style, instead of going straight on as usual to the 3rd,
Ath, 5th, and so forth ; cutting all the days between
the 2nd and 14th of September completely out of
existence. Therefore, if you ever hear any one tell-
ing you of anything having happened on the 3rd or
Ath of September, 1752, or indeed any day between
the 2nd and the 14th of that month, in that year,
you can be certain it’s a taradiddle ; for, you see,
there never were any such days in the world.â€
“T understand, sir,†said the boy. “Oh! shouldn’t
I like to have a game with my brother Hugh about ©
it! ITU tell him when I go home that there was
no person ever born or died between the 2nd and
the 14th September, 1752—that no work was done,
that no shops were open, no coaches ran, and no
bread was sold to the people—indeed, that no one
did anything, ate anything, or slept a wink for the
whole of that time. Oh! won’t it bea bit of fun,
Captain Jones ?â€
240 THE BOY HAS A TALK WITIL
“Well, boy, Pll tell you something else, tooâ€
added the old man. “You can say besides, that
there was a year once in England that was only
three quarters, or nine months long. And when
they ask you what year that was, say it was
the year 1751; for before that time, the year
always began here on the 25th of March, and
so indeed did the year 1751; but the one after
that was ordered to begin on the Ist of Janu-
ary; so that as 1751 commenced on the 25th of
March and ended on the Ist of January 1752, it
could have been only nine months long, you see.
Well, do you know, Owen, that’s the only year I
ever heard tell of that a poor midshipman could
have got his half-pay.â€
“Indeed, sir. But why?†eagerly inquired the
boy. |
“ Because they say on board a ship,†returned the
Captain, “that a middy’s half-pay is three farthings
a year, paid quarterly. So, you see, it was only
when the ycar was nine months long, that the
reefers could have received their quarter’s divi-
dends.†|
Owen chuckled at the Captain’s jokelet, and rose
from his seat to take his departure.
“ Heave to, youngster!†cried the sailor; “for I’ve
yet to tell you what was the drift ofmy spinning you
all this yarn about the different kinds of time. You
see you've got a watch as well as a clock now; that
TUE OLD SAILOR APOUT THE “ Log.†O41}
is, you're going to measure the length of the hours
in the average, or clock day. But suppose the
instruments you measure by are wrong. Suppose
the hours that your timepiece marks are too short
or too long, why, the day will seem to be either too
long or too short also. Well, then, how are you
to tell whether the time that your watch or your
clock shows is the proper average or mean time,
lad?’ ‘The old man paused for an answer.
Owen thought for awhile, and then shook his
head as he said, “I’m sure I can’t say, sir.â€
“Well, then, of all time the truest is star time,
because, as the stars never appear to change their
places among one another, hike the sun and moon do
among them, their time of returning to the same
point overhead doesn’t vary every day as sun or
moon time does. Besides, star time is the easiest to
observe correctly. Now, you know I told you before
how to find out when a star got back to the same
point in the sky. Well, you're to do this for two
nights running, and then, if on the second night
the same star disappears 3 minutes 56 seconds
sooner -by your clock or watch than it did on the
first night, it’s a certain sign that the timepiece is
going true; and if it doesn’t show this difference,
why, the timepiece must be regulated accordingly.
Now, if you'll come to me to-morrow, I'll try and
make you understand how it is we know that the
earth’s ronnd, and how we can measure it right
R
242 THE BOY HAS A TALK WITH, ETC.
across, though we can’t get through it ; and how,
too, we can tell it’s moving, although all the houses
and trees, and things upon it, appear to be stand-
Ing still. There now, we've done, and so you weigh
anchor, youngster. Come, don’t you know what
weigh anchor means? Why, hoist all sail and be
off. I’m sure you must be tired ; for I know J am
—as tired as I was of salt junk when I first went
to sea.â€
Owen wished the old man good night, and thank-
ing him again and again for what he had given
and what he had taught him, left the parlour,
promising to make the star observation before he
went to bed that night. —
The boy had got half-way across the garden in
front of the cottage, when the Captain tapped
loudly after him at the window, and beckoning
Owen to return, shouted to him through the
panes to be sure and come early on the morrow.
And here he added, as he raised the sash just high
enough to thrust a little paper cone underneath it,
“ give these sugar-plums to my little toddles, with a
big kiss, remember, from ‘ Mitter Jore.’â€
CHAPTER IX,
THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE AND
MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH.
Wuen Owen reached home, he set to work imme-
diately that the stars began to peep out #o make
the observation described by the Captain.
Having selected a bright star—a large one in the
centre of three that appeared to be nearly in a line
with each other—he got his brother Hugh to note
the exact time as he cried out “ now,†the moment
he beheld it disappear behind the edge of the
blacksmith’s stack of chimneys; and the little fellow
was overjoyed to find he could make the observation
much easier than he expected.
This was the first experiment Owen had ever
made with the stars, and the interest he took in it
‘was increased as he watched the course of the little
specks of light, and recalled what the sailor had told
_ him about their movements: for he noticed that all
the old man had described came true.
After this, the boy led his brother to the front
RZ
vid THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE
window of their little bedroom, telling him that
Captain Jones had said there was a point in the
north which all the stars appeared to move round,
and that the circles they made in the sky became
smaller and smaller the nearer they got to this
point.
But though the two watched patiently for a long
time, and noticed star after star disappear behind
the western side of the mountain, in front of the
cottage, they could discover no such fixed point
in the heavens.
It was late that night before Owen closed his
eyes, for his thoughts, turned into a new channel,
kept on sweeping along, one after another, almost
in the same endless procession as the little points of
light he had been gazing at. He had never noticed
the motion of the stars before, and the little fellow
was full of wonder at the new discovery. What
could it mean? Where were ‘they all going to?
What would they look like if a person could get near
them? Were they lamps or what? and where was
their use to us? and why had they been set up there
to move on and on, year after year, as he felt as-
sured they must have done from the beginning of the
world, and would continue doing till the end of it?
Hugh and Owen lay awake in their beds, long
speculating, in their own simple way, upon all these
matters ; and when Hugh—tired by the day’s labour
—had fotlen asleep, Owen still kept on pondering
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 245
over the fresh marvel, and before he closed his eyes
that night the little fellow, enraptured with the
strange beauty of what he had found out, thanked
God heartily that he had got to know so much of
Flis goodness and power.
Early the next morning, Owen was busy think-
ing over all the Captain had made him acquainted
with the day before, and what the old man had pro-
mised to tell him that afternoon.
The lad remained in bed, longer than usual,
wondering how it was that people could make out
the world was round.
“ Kiverybody says it is so,†he whispered to him-
self—“ Mr. Wilkins and Captain Jones, and all.
And I remember yesterday, the Captain was very
particular every time in saying the sun and stars
appeared to go round the earth. But how can they
tell whether they only appear to do so or not?†he
asked himself again and again. “I’m sure the earth
looks quite flat to me, and when I’ve been on the
top of the Garth,†he went on, “ I’ve often thought
T could walk to the end of the world. Ive fancied
it was like the top of a big table, and that one could
go to the edge of it, and look right down over the
sides, like into a great deep well; and many a time
lve wondered, if we could only peep over the brink
of it what we should see there. Still it can’t be
flat; for Captain Jones told me that people had
246 THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE
sailed all round it. Then why should the ground
seem to go straight along? A round never looks
like that. Besides, P've heard father say that all
water finds its own level, and that’s the reason he
uses his spirit-level to tell when things are per-
fectly even on the top. But if water doés find its
level, the sea must be quite flat, and then how could —
persons sail round it. Besides, if the world was
really round, all the sea would run off it, as water
would off a ball. Stili, Mr. Wilkins, when he was
talking to me about gravitation, and showing me
how it was people didn’t fall off the earth, took a ball
of yarn, and said the world was like that. Yes, he
.must have meant it was a ball; I wanted to know
more about it then, but didn’t like to ask. They
must mean it’sa ball, ’m sure. Captain Jones, too,
said the earth turned round 366 times in a year,
and that when I went to him to-day he’d explain to
me how the things upon it—trees, buildings, and
all—those were the very words he used—were
moving, though they every one seemed to be stand-
ing still, I can’t make it out any how. My bed
doesn’t feel to be moving.â€
Then the boy remained j erfectly still for a minute
or two to see if he could detect any motion in the little
imitation chest of drawers that served him for a couch.
“No!†said the lad, “and I’m sure if the bed had
stirred in the least, I should have felt it then ; for
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 247
when I’m on old Jack, I know very well I’m being
carried along. Besides, the day Joe Powell, the
wagoner, gave me a ride in his wagon up to Builth,
I could tell well enough when we were going on.
How can they, then, make out that the world’s
moving if it isn’t possible to feel it.â€
Accordingly the lad longed for the time to come
when the Captain was to explain the puzzle to him.
And when he had risen, he went to the dingle,
and sauntered along by the brook side, imagining all
manner of simple things that he fancied might serve
as a solution of the problem.
As soon as Owen judged it was mid-day—and
he could tell by the shortness of the shadows of
the trees when it was about noon—he turned his
steps towards the sailor’s cottage. On reaching the
bridge he looked up the village to see if the Captain
was sitting in his usual place in the garden.
The old sailor, who was warming himself in the
sun, no sooner caught sight of Owen Evans, than he
beckoned to him as he cried—“ Here, youngster,
I’ve been waiting for you the last hour.â€
Owen replied, as he advanced towards him, that
he was afraid of troubling him, or he should have
been with him long before.
In a few minutes the Captain and the boy were
again seated in the little parlour. |
248 THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL TIE SITAPE
“ Now let me see,†said the old man, “ what did
I say Td tell you about to-day? I’m sure I forget,
It was as much as I could do to remember you were
coming, and I shouldn’t have done that if it hadn’t
been for Mrs. Pugh reminding me of it, for she
heard me, you see, call to you through the window
last night. If it hadn’t been for that you'd have
had no pudding, youngster, for dinner to-day.
However, I’ve settled she’s to make you a nice—
nice—let me see, what did I settle it was to be? A
green gooseberry—gooseberry, no, it couldn’t be
that! they've been out of season months now. It
wasn't batter either, I know, because I told her boys
hked fruit best. Could it have been—been plum,
then? No, no, for there isn’t a plum-tree in our
garden. Well, I can’t tell ; its apple, or currant,
or jam roly-poly, or something of that kind, boy.
But you'll see it when it comes, and I’ll lay my
life you’ll make nearly as big a-hole in it as I did
in that cherry and currant pie Mr. Peace gave me
at the King George’s Head, at Gravesend, the day
I joined the ‘Edinboro’ Castle†my first ship.
Didn't the waiter hoist his eyebrows when he saw
how Id cleared all the fruit out of the hold of that
pie!†And at the recollection of the youthful feat,
the old sailor broke out into a hearty laugh,
chuckling again till the tears streamed from his
eyes,
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 249
On drawing his handkerchief from his pocket,
he could scarcely find a part of it wherewith to
wipe the tears from his cheeks, for he had tied it
into so many knots that it looked more like a bunch
of onions than a yellow bandanna.
{??
“ Dear, dear !†the old man cried, as he surveyed
the ball, “now what on earth do all these knots
stand for? Every one of them, I know, was to
remind me of something very particular, but
what on earth that something was, is more than
Ican tell. Now I come to think of it, too, I do
verily believe I tied one just after you'd left, to
make me remember some matter I wanted to tell
you. But you see the worst of it is, lad, when
once I’ve tied a knot I don’t like to undo it again,
because I fancy it stands for something important
that I ought to recollect, and if I untied it, why it
would seem like chucking the whole thing overboard
from one’s mind. So there I go on putting knot after
knot in my handkerchief, until I get it into a hard
lump, and then it seems for all the world as if I
was wiping my eyes with a cricket ball. At one
time I tried to remember things by tying bits of
string round my little finger, but that was all the
same. It was as hard to know what the strings
meant as it is with the knots in the handkerchief ;
and I declare, my fingers used to be half covered
with cord rings before the month’s end; so that
250 THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE
the difficulty I had to wash my hands then, ig
more than anybody would believe. But what wag
I to tell you about to-day? I’ve been trying to
remember it half the morning, and can’t get at it
any how.â€
“Oh, if you please, sir,†replied Owen, “you ‘said
you'd explain to me how people knew the earth to be
round, and how they measured it, and how they
could tell it was moving.â€
Then the lad informed the old man that he
had made the observation as directed. Owen told
the Captain, moreover, what he had noticed about
the movements of the stars, and that he'd been
thinking all the morning over what he was to
learn that day. —
“‘There’s a good little fellow,†cried the sailor,
at the conclusion of the tale; “and now we're going
to see first, if we can’t make out the figure of the
earth. Well, then, I suppose, Owen, you fancy it’s
the same sun you see go over your head every day !
You don’t think there’s a fresh one comes up every
morning, do you ?â€
“Why, no,†replied the lad, “that would be
funny indeed, sir.â€
“So the question is,†continued the - sailor,
“what becomes of the sun after it sets of an even-
ing ? Where does it go to? And how is it that 1t
- Inanages to come up again the next morning at the
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 95}
Opposite quarter of the earth? For you know,
lad, the sun sets in the west and rises in the
east,â€
“T begin to see, sir, what you mean,†answered
the boy; “it must go along under the earth, of .
course.â€
“To be sure it must. You should remember, too,
my boy, that it’s not only the sun that seems
to move over the earth every day, but the moon and
stars all appear to do the same,†added the old man;
“consequently, what we want to settle is, how is
this done? Well, there must either be a subter-
ranean passage—that is to say, a passage under the
world for them to travel along—or else there must
be a hole right through the earth. But a hole in the
middle of the earth, you know, wouldn’t do, because
the stars couldn’t all pass through it without being
jammed together like. And perhaps you noticed last
night, when the stars come up in the east, they’re
just as wide apart as when they go down in the west,
and the whole of them seem to be altogether as
broad as the earth.â€
“Yes, I noticed that myself last night, sir,†was
the little fellow’s answer. |
“Well, then,†proceeded the sailor, “there must
be a way for them to go under the earth rather than
through it. So you see, Owen, what we want to
know now is this—do they go straight along under
252 THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE
the earth, or is there a vaulted sky underneath ug,
just the same as the one above? Now how do you
think, lad, it’s possible to come at that without
seeing it?â€
“Tm sure I can’t say,†replied the boy, after
thinking awhile.
“ Look you, Owen ; if you'd known how to observe
the rate at which the stars moved last night, you'd
have found that they travelled through equal dis-
tances in equal times—that is, you’d have found
them journeying at the same rate all the time they
were visible to you. For on observing those which rose
exactly in the east and set exactly in the west, and
which take, as I before told you, just upon twelve
hours to go right across the heavens, you would have
discovered that they would have done exactly half
the distance in exactly half the time; or a quarter
of the distance in a quarter of the time. You'd have
found, too, the same uniform rate of motion among
all the others. Therefore we can but suppose the
stars, after they leave our sight, to keep on travelling
at the same rate as they do while they remain visible
tous. Accordingly we must believe that those which
rise exactly in the east and set exactly in the west,
go through an equal space underneath the earth to
what they do above it—since they not only remain
just upon twelve hours visible, but are precisely the
same time hidden from us, For as there is no reason
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 2538
for us to imagine that their rate of motion is altered
after their time of setting, why, we must come to the
conclusion that they have to journey through the
same distance underneath us, when they’re out of
sight, as they seem to travel through the sky above
us.â€
“Yes, of course they must, sir,†said the little pupil.
‘Well, then,†went on the sailor, “the stars couldn’t
go along in a straight line underneath the earth; be-
cause, you see, boy, a straight line across the half of
a circle is what’s called the diameter, and that’s only
about one-third of the length of the line which goes
round the circle. Consequently, if the eastern and
western stars passed immediately straight under the
earth, they should travel the distance below it in
one-third less time than they took to do the half of
the circle they describe above the earth: that is
to say, they should remain above the earth not quite
143 hours, and be hidden from us but a little more
than 94 hours. But they remain, as I said, just as
long hidden from us as they are visible to ue.
Therefore, since they must be travelling at the same
rate under the earth, as they appear to do over it,
it’s clear they must be going through the same space,
and completing: the circle they left half unfinished
when they disappeared from our sight. So you See,
Owen, we're able to tell by this means that there’s a
sky underneath us just the same as there is above
254 THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE
us, and the sun, moon, and stars all appear to
traverse that hemisphere, or hali-globe, the same ag
they do our own.â€
“Tm sure I ought to be much obliged to you,
Captain Jones, for all the trouble you take with me,â€
said Owen; “but you've made it quite plain to me
now, sir.â€
“Well, so far so good, lad,†replied his tutor,
“ We've got one step for’ard at least. Now, you see,
we want to find out what is the shape of the earth
that is between these two skies. Is it a large flat
piece of ground with an upper and an under side to
it lke a sheet of cardboard, and resting on fixed
supports, like the top of a billiard table ; or is ita
round globe like a ball, and floating in space like a
balloon? But let us say it’s flat to begin with, and
see if we can make out whether it’s square like a
draught-board, or round lixe:a tambourine. Well,
if you go on the top of the Garth, or any high place,
what do you see?â€
“Why, I see, sir, the earth spread out flat at my
feet,†answered the boy, “for I’ve been up there
often. And as I’ve looked away into the distance it
seemed as if I stood in the centre of the world, and
the mountains far away appeared to form a ring
right round me.†|
“Very good, boy, and if you’d been to sea,†added
the sailor, “you'd have seen the ocean about you
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 255
iike a perfect circle; and let the ship journey
on as it would, day after day there woud be the
same disc of water round the vessel, which would
always seem the central point of it—the same as, if
you'd been atop of Snowdon, you'd have seen the
earth spread out like a large round plate, and your-
self still forming the middle point of it. Now, lad,
if the earth is flat and round, like a tambourine, as
we said, it can’t have so many centres that each,
wherever we go, shall appear to be the middle
of it.†|
“T should think not,†remarked the boy.
“ Besides, what could it rest upon?†added the
Captain. “The old Indian philosophers imagined
that there was a great elephant underneath it; but
some sharp fellow, hke you, Owen, suggested that
the elephant itself would need something to stand
upon. Whereupon the sages came to the conclusion
that there must be a tortoise under each of its feet
—though what supported the tortoises the wise-
acres didn’t trouble their heads about. Well, then,
since the earth can’t be flat, how do we know that
it’s spherical? Now you go and fetch me one of the
oranges out of the side-board drawer there.â€
The little fellow did as he was bidden, after
which the old man directed him to wheel the table
into the middle of the room and to set the orange in
the centre of it,
256 THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL TIE SHAPE
When Owen had done this the sailor proceeded
to say—
“Now you go and place yourself in one of the
corners of the parlour, aud tell me how the orange
looks to you.â€
The boy placed himself in the position indicated,
and said, “ It seems to me, sir, like a round.â€
“Well,†continued the Captain, “walk over to
the next corner, and tell me how it looks
there.â€
“Tt seems just the same,†cried the lad, as he
shifted his place to the other angle.
“Go ahead, youngster, and keep your eye fixed
on the orange all the while.â€
“Tt still appears the same round, sir, as when
I first looked at it,†remarked the boy, speaking as
he went.
“Go on,†cried the Captain, “go right round the
room, so that you may see _ the orange from all
quarters.â€
“ There’s no difference that I can see, sir,†added
Owen, as he continued his tour.
“And do you notice, lad,†asked the sailor, “not
only does it appear always round to you, but from
whatever point you behold it, you seem to be looking
straight at the middle of the circle?â€
| “Yes, that’s quite right, sir,†rejoined the Cap-
tain’s little pupil.
NA
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Captain Jones demonstrates the Rotundity of the Barth.—P. 257.
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 257
“Now you've been all round it,†said Captain
Jones, “we'll put it on the ground, and you shall
look down upon it.â€
“It appears just the same whichever way I look
at it,†said the lad, as he placed the orange at his
feet, and stood gazing at it. |
“Give it me, Owen,†said the old man, “and
let me hold it as far as I can above your head,â€
and as he did so, and stretched his arm high in
the air while the boy held back his head, he added,
“there, do you see, it’s still the same figure, is it
not ?â€
“Quite the same, sir,†replied the lad.
“Well, then,†said the sailor, “you've seen it
from every point of view. You've been right round
it, you've looked over and under it; and still it’s
always appeared to be the same figure to you. And
that figure a circle having the point your eye fell
upon for the centre. Now do you understand how
it is my little man ?â€
“Yes, [T can tell what you mean, Captain
Jones,†replied the lad ; “you would say, as all
persons see the earth to be round from whatever
part they look at it, and fancy themselves to be
right in the middle of the circle they see about:
them, that its shape must be that of a ball.
Isn’t that what you mean, sir ?â€
“To be sure it must, boy,†observed the Captain,
g
aN
KS
258 THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE
“for a globe is the only body that can appear as a
circle from all potnts of view.â€
“ But, sir,†exclaimed Owen, “the orange didn’t
appear to me quite like the world does; for the
earth, when I look at it, seems a flat circle like, and
the orange, I could see, always bulged out in the
middle.â€
“Very true, boy, very true,†returned the sailor,
“but the orange was so small that you could always
see one half of it, and the earth is so large that your
eye can take in but a small portion of its surface at
once. Ifyou were a fly on that orange, Owen, or
an ant—and even then in comparison with the size
of the earth, you'd be bigger than the greatest giant
that ever lived—you could only have seen but a
little way over it, and how then could you have
told whether or not it bulged out, as you call it?
Still,†continued his goodhumoured teacher, “we
can tell by certain observations that the edges of
the circle we always see wherever we stand on the
earth, are lower down than the point from which
we ourselves are looking. Now, lad, you run into
the kitchen, and fetch me a bit of silk, and a pin or
two.†|
When the boy returned, the Captain tied one end
of the silk round the top of the pin that he had pre-
viously stuck in the rind of the orange, and holding
the other end between his finger and thumb, drew
the thread tight as he made it slant downwards till
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 259
it touched the surface of the fruit at a little distance
from the pin, thus ;
“Now, boy,†continued the old sailor, “the pin
at the top of the orange shall be you yourself, and
the silk shall represent a ray of light coming to
your eye from that part of the little globe where
the thread just touches the rind. And the way
you see distant objects, remember, Owen, is simply
by such threads, or rays of light reflected from
them, and entering your pupil. But, as the rays
always proceed in a right line, it’s plain that all such
parts of our little globe here as lie below where
9
Sa
260 THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE
the silk touches its surface would be invisible to you,
since no straight line, or ray coming from them,
could possibly reach the eye. Well, boy, we'll
suppose Mr. Pin to turn his head round and
look in another direction. But still he would be
able to see no farther than before, and for the
same reason—no rays could possibly enter the eye
from any point of the surface below that touched
by the silk; and as all the points so touched are
equally far removed from the head of the pin,
it follows that the line bounding the sight in the
distance, would appear to form a perfect circle.
Look you, youngster,†continued the old man.
“While I move the thread gently round the orange,
you trace, with the point of one of the steel pens
yonder, the figure described on it by the silk just at
the point where it grazes its surface.â€
“T declare it’s a perfect ring, sir,†cried Owen,
just as he was putting the last scratch to the circle
with the dry point of the pen, and when the mark
was made it was like that indicated by the dotted
line in the engraving.
“Yes, lad; that ring now is the pin-head’s
horizon, and if we shifted the pin’s place to any
other part of the little globe, we should find that
the visible boundary-line would be invariably of the
same figure. For you see, youngster, the horizon—
or, in other words, the limit to the sight—results
from the roundness of the earth, and does not pro-
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 261
ceed from any inability on our parts to see objects
at a greater distance, or from there being any haze
or mist in the offing to screen them from the
eye. This we know to be the case, because
objects can be seen perfectly well beyond the
horizon—or ‘offing, as we call it at sea—provided
they are raised above the level of the ocean. Get
another pin, Owen, and do you stick it in the
orange just a little way below the point where
the silk touches the rind, so that the head of
it may stand just above the line formed by the silk.
Do you see, boy?†inquired the Captain, when
Owen had inserted the pin as here shown.
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262 THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE
“A ray of light could now reach the eye from the
distant pin-head, and if we supposed this to be the
mast-head of a vessel, why we should see it looming
above the horizon; and then, as it came nearer
to us, we should perceive more and more of the
masts and sails, precisely in the same manner ag
we shall see more of the stem of the pin, if we
move it closer to the point where the silk touches
the surface of the orange.â€
The lad shifted the pin to the place represented
by the dotted line in the preceding engraving, say-
ing, as he thrust it in, “I see, sir, just now, the
thread came close up to the pin’s head, and this time
there’s about half the stem above it.†—
“Well,†returned the old sailor, “you’ve only to
think that thread a ray of light, youngster, to un-
derstand how any object on a line with it, or above
it, could be seen by a person similarly situated to
the pin, and how all things below it would be
hidden from his sight, so that it would be only
when the object reached the point where the silk
touches the orange, that it would be rendered
wholly visible. If, however, the pin at the top be
made higher than it is at present, we shall find the
silk will touch the orange at a more distant point ;
and if we raise the top pin so that the thread grazes
the surface just at the point where the other pin
stands, we shall perceive that the visible boundary
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 263
will be thus extended,* and the whole of the objects
that we could see only in part before, will thus
be brought into view without shifting its place.
So it is found with ships in the offing at sea ; for on
going to the mast-head we see more of distant
vessels than is visible from the deck, and often
the whole of their hulls can be distinguished from
aloft, when only the topsils could be seen from —
below.†|
“T think I needn’t trouble you, sir, to tell me
any more about the shape of the earth,†said Owen ;
“for I can see now that it can be nothing else than
a globe, as you say.â€
“Very well, lad,†replied Captain Jones; “then
as we've settled the figure of the earth, we'll now
proceed to ascertain the size of it.â€
“Oh, yes, sir, I shall lke that,†interrupted the
boy, “because you told me yesterday you'd show
me the way to find out how many miles it was
_ through the earth, though no one had ever been to
the middle of it.â€
“So I did, youngster, and now we'll set to work
to see how we can measure it,†proceeded the sailor ;
“but for this we shall need the orange again, and
these two pins that we have stuck in it already will
just do for what we want, only well make the bit
ee ee Se LT St SS TR Senn
* See the dotted lines in the engraving at page 261.
264 THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE
of siik which is ted to one of them, fast to the
other as well,—in this manner, lad.
‘There, Owen, we'll suppose the two pins to
be two rocks—or whatever you may please to call
them—with the tops just visible to one another over
the edge of the horizon, which you know would be
where the thread touches the orange, halfway be-
tween them. Well, it has been found by observa-
tion, that two such points, each 10 feet above the
surface of the earth, cease to be visible from one
another, over still water, and in ordinary weather,
at a distance of about 8 miles; so that you see,
the horizon which is halfway between the points,
would be just 4 miles distant from either of them.
Consequently we have given us for a guide in our
reckoning half the length of the arc,—that is to
say, half the portion of the circle between the two
points—as well as the heights of the points them-
selves. This is quite sufficient to enable us to
find out the length across the entire circle, without
going either through or round it; as indeed you'll
_ know when you learn how to measure angles and
‘secants’ and ‘tangents, lad. For it comes out by
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 65
calculation, that the length across the earth is as
many times greater than the distance of the horizon,
as that distance ts greater than the height of the place
of observation. Accordingly, let us see how many
times the distance of the horizon, in the case
we have just mentioned, was greater than the height
of the places of observation. The distance of the
horizon, you remember, was 4 miles, and the height
of the places of observation 10 feet. Therefore the
length across the earth must be just as many
times greater than 4 miles as 4 miles is greater
than 10 feet. Well, in 4 miles there are 21,120
feet ; so this is 2112 times greater than 10 feet,
and 2112 times 4 miles, are 8448 miles—or say
in round numbers, 8000 miles. Consequently this,
with a slight allowance for the errors of observation,
we may consider to be the actual length of the dis-
tance through the earth. You see then, lad, it’s
quite possible to measure the earth without going
through it, or round it either.â€
“T can’t make out how you do it, sir,†replied the
boy ; “though it seems to me to be something like
the way father tells how much timber there is in a
tree before it is cut down. But és the earth, Cap-
tain Jones, so big as to be 8000 miles through?â€
“Yes, Owen, very near upon it,†responded the
old man; “it’s nearly as many miles through as
there are days in 22 years.â€
“ Dear, dear,†cried the lad, “that is a length! A
266 THE BOY LEARNS HOW TO TELL THE SHAPE
mile’s a good distance I know, and to think of so
many coming one after another, lke the days in
the number of years you mentioned! Why, there
would seem to be no end to it.â€
“Very right, lad,†added the Captain ; “ but even
this gives us scarcely any notion of the size of the
earth. The mountains and valleys, and abysses, that
appear to us to make huge lumps and pits on its
surface, are no bigger in comparison with the whole
of itthan the little specks and pores you see here on
the rind of this orange.â€
“Oh! but Captain Jones,†exclaimed the half
incredulous boy, “ the Garth, on the other side ot
the river, appears to me to take up a good bit of
the earth, and I’ve heard father say that Snowdon
is much bigger even than that.†.
“Yes, youngster,†said the old man, smiling at
the lad’s simplicity, “and there are mountains again
much higher than Snowdon. Still the highest peak
in the world is only 5 miles straight up above the
ground ; and 8000 miles divided by 5, gives us
1600; so that you see the loftiest mountain is
only the 1600th part of the earth’s diameter. Now
if you were to get a ball 16 inches acrogs,—and
that’s a good big one, remember, for it?s about as
large round as the dial to a church clock,—such a
mountain would be represented on such a ball by a
Little dot of cartridge-paper, only 100th of an inch
in thickness,â€
AND MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE EARTH. 267
“Well, I never could have believed it, sir,†said
the little fellow, jerking his head, “if you hadn’t
told me so.†|
“The figures alone, youngster, if you were to
calculate them yourself,†replied the sailor, “ would
convince you of the truth of what I say. The
deepest mine, moreover,†he continued, “does not
go half a mile down into the ground, and this is
only the 16,000th part of the entire thickness of the
earth. So ona16 inch sphere, a scratch that the
thinnest fibre of cotton wool, 1000th of an inch
in thickness, would lie in, would be sufficient to
show such an excavation. The highest hills would
be indicated in proper proportions on such a globe
by mere particles of dust ; and the whole of the
land, with its cliffs that appear to us to tower
above the level of the sea, would be, relatively, no
thicker than a piece of thin writing paper ; while
the sea itself—-whose greatest depth does not ex-
ceed that of the highest lands—would be duly repre-
sented on our little model world by the mere film of
liquid that would be left by a wet brush drawn over
it ; and the entire atmosphere above us—which is
calculated to extend about §0 miles high—would be
fairly typified by an outer case of glass the 6th of
an inch in thickness, and this is not more than the
downy skin of a peach, in comparison with the size
of the fruit it envelops.â€
“Bless me!†cried the little fellow at the con-
268 THE BOY LEARNS THE SHAPE OF THE EARTH.
clusion of the comparison, “what a monster of a
ball it must be to make all those things that look to
us so big, appear so very small.â€
“Ay, ay, thaé it must, Owen,†added the Captain,
delighted with the wonder he had excited in his
little pupil. “ Why a man six feet high—and that’s
half a head taller than your father is—would be
only the 7,000,000th part of the earth’s diameter ;
and if we had to show such an one on our 16
inch globe, we could find no insect small enough te
represent so insignificant a creature ; a gnat’s wing,
which is only 100,000th part of an inch thick,
would be four times too gross to give his proper
proportions.â€
CHAPTER X.
THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD.
“We have measured the earth, boy,†continued
the Captain at their next chat, when he had been
once more reminded as to the point where he had
left off, “but very roughly as yet, for the method we
used is by no means an exact one. The portion of the
surface dealt with on such occasions, you see, is so
small that the least error becomes greatly exagge-
rated in the gross result ; therefore we must consider
the dimensions arrived at by those means only as a
slight approach to the truth. The length of space
that the observations extended over, you will remem-
ber, Owen, amounted merely to 4 miles, and this is
but the 6250th part of the entire circumference
of the earth ; accordingly when we seek to infer
the size of the whole by so small a fragment of
its surface, it is about the same as if we endea-
voured to come at the size of our 16 inch globe by
measuring the curvature of the 390th part of an
inch upon it.â€
270 THE BOY AND IIIS ORANGE WORLD.
“Oh, if that’s the case,†exclaimed the disap-
pointed little fellow, “perhaps what you've been
telling me is only a mistake, after all.â€
The old sailor replied, “ Nay, nay, it isn’t so bad
as that, though it’s not sufficiently accurate to be
of any real use to us; and you see, my little man,
we can measure but little bits cf the earth’s surface
at best. We cannot grasp the whole of it, you
know, nor go so far away as to see it all at once;
so all we can do is to creep about its surface, and
apply our little measures to small parts of it
in different places, and then make up by reason-
ing for the defect of our physical powers. Conse-
quently it behoves us to be most accurate in the
dimensions of the portions that we do measure, for
an error of a mile in a degree—since a degree is the
360th part of a circle—becomes magnified into 360
miles in the circumference, and 115 miles in the
diameter. Still, as a degree is not more than
70 miles in length it is quite possible, now a days,
to ascertain the precise extent of such a portion
of the earth’s surface within a very few feet, or
indeed inches.â€
“ But what is a degree, as you call it, sir?†in-
quired the boy.
“A degree is the 360th part of any circle—
large as well as small,†answered the Captain.
“Then, sir,†said Owen, “how could the people
who were measuring the earth know when they had
THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD. 271
finished a 360th part of it, unless they first knew
the length of the whole ?â€
“That’s just what we want to settle, my little
sharp one,†the old man returned ; “and what’s more,
how are the people to be certain they are measuring
in a straight line along the earth? for both of these
conditions are necessary for accurate measurement.â€
“That Pm sure I can’t tell; and I don’t see how
any body else is to find it out either,†said the lad.
“ Let us see, youngster,†responded Captain Jones.
“Well, in the first place, the earth has no land-marks
on it to point out the degrees, nor any traces in-
scribed on its surface to direct us exactly in a
straight course. Nor will the compass help us in
such a case, for though that does well enough as a
guide for the mariner, it is too subject to varia-
tions to be depended upon where extreme accuracy
is required. We must, therefore, since we can find
nothing on the earth to aid us, turn to the heaveng
_and see if, among the natural marks up there, that
are as permanent as the earth itself, we can find
any that will serve us as beacon-lights to mark
our whereabouts on the globe. But before doing
this, let us parcel out the earth itself into certain
equal portions, and see what we can learn from
that. Now, as we know the earth to be round
like a ball, we can divide it in the middle into
two parts, each of the same size, and the line
which thus divides it is called the ‘equator,
242 TOE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD.
or equalizer, simply because the parts on either
side of it are of like dimensions. But let us have
our little model world again, boy: do you get the
orange and cut a small furrow in the rind round
it, as nearly in the middle as you can judge.â€
“Will that do, sir?’ asked the lad, when he had
scored the orange round as directed.
“Oh, yes,†returned the old man, “ quite well
enough for what we want, for if the parts on each
side of the line are not exactly equal, why we'll
imagine them to be so, and that will be all the same.
Well, this point where the stalk has been, you see,â€
he continued, as he placed his finger on the top
of the orange, “we'll call one of the poles,—the
North Pole it shall be,—and the little speck there
at the bottom, directly opposite to the other, shall
be the South Pole ; and take my word for it, we'll
have a beautiful little world in a minute or two.â€
® Then some more circles were scored round the
orange, so as to ke parallel with the equator. These,
the Captain explained to the boy, formed what were
styled “parallels of latitude;â€â€™ and he told him,
moreover, that all countries situated on the same
parallel were the same distance from the equator and
the pole. Then laying his finger between the Afth
and sixth lines north of the equator, he pointed out
to the boy how between these parallels lay England
in one part; in another part Sweden and Prussia;
and after that a portion of Russia; next to this came
Kamskatcha; and then a bit of North America;
THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD. 273
and as he named the several countries he amused the
boy with curious rambling stories about the people
in each of them.
Presently Owen was at work again cutting a flat
broadish ring out of a piece of stout card-board
under the captain’s guidance, and making the aper-
ture in the middle of it large enough to admit of
the orange passing freely through it. This finished,
and the circle portioned out into spaces of 10 degrees
each, the old sailor, who grew almost as pleased with
the contrivance as the boy himself, bade Owen pass
a long pin through the edge of the ring, so that it
might run between the card-board, from the outside
to the inside of it, and have the point standing out
so as to serve as the axis for the orange to turn upon.
When this was done he directed the boy to pass
another pin through the card-board in the same
manner as the first, and directly opposite to it.
“And what areweto call this pasteboard circle, sir ?â€
said the little fellow, as he proceeded with the work.
“Why, that’s what’s termed a meridian,†was the
‘answer. “It’s so called because meridian in Latin
signifies mid-day, and that’s the line the sun always
crosses at noon; so that there are as many different
meridians as there are different places round the
globe; Now it’s along that meridian line degrees of
latitude are measured. Latitude means breadth,
that is to say, it’s the breadth of the world from
the equator to the poles—for that’s the way the
latitude, or breadth, is always measured,â€
T
274 THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD.
“ And I suppose, sir, as:there’s. breadth to the
world there’s length as well!†remarked the pupil.
“Yes, youngster; and as the breadth is :ealled
latitude, the length is called longitude. The length
of a thing you know extends directly across: the
breadth of it, and so the longitude is measured at
right angles, as we say, to the latitude. But we
wont confuse ourselves with thinking about the
longitude at-present.. The latitude is what we want
to measure, and so we'll keep to that. Well! a
degree,.I- told you, is the 360th part of a circle—
no matter whether the circle be large or small—
whether it be a line running round this orange, or
round the earth itself, or even the sphere of the
heavens—it 1s considered to be divided into 360
equal. parts, and each of these parts is termed a
degree... But to make the divisions on our little
globe plainer, we have divided the meridian into only
36 parts, so that each of those parts will stand for
10 degrees. Do you go to work at that, Owen.â€
Next the Captain told Owen to form a second
card-board:ring, with the same sized aperture, but
doubly:as broad as the previous one, and to cut two
slits-in it,;one on each side and extending half
across it: from the inner edge. As soon as these
were. completed the orange was fixed by -means
of the pins within the first ring, and then this, with
_the.orange in the middle, was passed down through
the slits into the second ring ; so that the one stood
THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD. 275
at right angles to the other, and the orange in the
centre of the two.
The next step was to hunt for something that
would serve as a stand for the tiny world. After
some little time the glass sugar-basin was thought of,
and, having been emptied of its contents, a cork
was placed at the bottom (as a support for the card-
board meridian), and a slit cut down it, so that the
meridian might pass freely through it when turned
round. a
It did not take long to arrange the puny globe on
its glass-stand, and when the work was all done the
little orange-world had this appearance—
£76 TILE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD.
“Doesn’t it look pretty, Captain Jones!†cried
Owen, as he drew a few paces back and twisted his
head from one side to the other, in order to have a
better view of the whole object.
“Ay, ay,†responded the sailor, “it’s a little
fairy world; and by-and-by, when we've finished
with it, you, like a great ogre, can gobble it
up.†|
The little fellow laughed outright, as he said,
“Wont it be funny, sir, to eat the earth?â€
“Yes; and very pleasant eating you'll find it, I
dare say. I shouldn’t wonder, now, but what you'd
like to have a world to devour every day, just as a
relish after your dinner—you horrible little Fee-fo-
fum, you! But come, youngster, it isn’t time tu
‘pipe all hands to mischief’ just yet—we mnust wait
till the ‘dog-watches’ for that. So, where were we!
let me see! dear-o-me! where were we?â€
“You were going to tell me about the latitude,
sir,†interposed the boy.
“Oh! I know!†proceeded the volunteer school-
master. “ Well, the broad ring resting on the sugar-
basin there, stands for the horizon, Owen—supposing
you to be able to see half over the earth at once.
Now the horizon has its poles as well as the earth
itself, These are situated right up over head and
right down under foot ; and no matter whereabouts
on the earth we may be, as the horizon shifts wher-
fue BOY AND IIS ORANGE WORLD. 217
ever we shift, and we’re always in the centre of it,
why the poles of it, as I said before, are always
straight up above and straight down below. The
two poles of the horizon are called the ‘Zenith’ and
‘Nadir; the Zenith being the point of the sky directly
over us, While the Nadir, or nether* pole, is the point
of the sky directly under us. These two poles there-
fore are exactly 90 degrees, or a quarter of a circle,
distant from every part of the horizon. Now,†con-
tinued the sailor, “we've got our little world right
on end, and supposing you to be-on the top of it,
its north pole would be directly in a line with your
zenith, or the upper pole of your horizon; and its
south pole in a line with the nadir, or lower pole of
your horizon. Then it’s plain that you'd be in 90
degrees latitude; that is to say you'd be 90 degrees
distant from any part of the equator; and the pole
of the earth would be 90 degrees distant from any
part of the horizon. You see that, don’t you, lad ?â€
“Oh yes, sir; there’s the figure 90 standing right
up at the top, and the equator is exactly level with
the horizon here,†answered the lad.
“Well,†the Captain went on, “Ict us twist the
globe round one quarter of the circle, so that the
poles may be level with the horizon, and the equator
perpendicular to it—like this, my little man ;†and as
* Nether and Nadir are etymologically the same words.
£78 THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD,
he said so, the old man shifted the little world into
the position here shown—
Vie
SAN! AY
RN es
TRAN AAAS Rr
it
S
Mi"
“¢ Now what do we find?†inquired Captain Jones.
“Why, supposing you to be standing on the equator,
midway between the poles, you'd be in no latitude,
since the equator is the point where the reckoning
starts from, and the poles of the earth would be no
height above the horizon, because, you see, they’re
exactly level with it. There, look at it well,
youngster, and convince yourself of the fact.â€
“ Yes, I see,†observed Owen, as he examined the
model; “there’s the 0 mark up at top, and so, of
course, if I was there I should be in no latitude; and
THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD. 279
here are the two pins for the poles right down on
the card-board ring which stands for the horizon,
and so the poles can’t be any height above it.â€
“Very good, my man,†added the teacher. “ Well,
you know, in the first case you were in 90 degrees
latitude, and the poles of the earth were 90 degrees
high, and this time you are in no latitude and the
poles are no height.†|
“ Does it then, sir, always follow that the latitude
is the same as the height of the earth’s poles above
the horizon?†was the boy’s inquiry.
“Let us see,†was the old man’s reply. “We'll
shift the globe once more, and get the poles into
this position—
pa
ra
pod
oe ta
Sa ’
an’
7
q
ae
eee,
Enh
i!
y S
At ee
na
i
u
Hie
it
a ut
‘iN
a
Rie
Bit
\ AT eae
H
' i SH
eee
280 THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD,
“Now, you perceive,†continued the sailor, “you
would be in 30 degrees latitude; for that is the
figure which is in a line with the zenith at present;
and, if you look, you will find that the poles of the
earth are exactly the same number of degrees
above the horizon.â€
{?
“ Bless me! yes, so they are, I declare !†exclaimed
the boy, as he gazed at the figures to assure himself
of the fact. “ Dear! dear! how very odd! Then it is
so, sir; the latitude of a place is always the same as
the height of the pole of the earth above the horizon.â€
“Youre quite right, lad,†the sailor replied ;
“and you'll think it just as strange, I dare say, when
I tell you that ‘the complement of the latitude, is —
envariably equal to the height of the equator above the
horizon.â€
“What does the complement of the latitude
mean, if you please, sir?†asked Owen.
“The complement of the latitude, boy,†answered
the Captain, “is the number of degrees required
over and above the latitude to complete the 90.
For instance, we are in 30 degrees latitude on
our little globe here, and therefore the complement
to that latitude—or the ‘co-latitude,’ as it’s called
for shortness sake—would be 60 degrees ; since 60
degrees added to 30 make 90. And now, if you
100k at our little model, you will perceive that the
equator, or point where the 0 mark stands, is just
60 degrees above the horizon. The latitude, bear
in mind, is measured from the equator to any part
TLE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD. 28
of the earth, and the co-latitude from that part of
the earth to the pole.†|
“But, Captain Jones,†interrupted the lad, “ why
is it that the latitude is always the same as the
height of the pole above the horizon, and the co-lati-
tude the same as the height of the equator above it ?â€
“Ah! I thought you'd be at that, Mr. Inqui-
sitive,†smiled the old man. “ You must have the
reason for everything. However, to make you under-
stand this, | must get you to do me a little bit of a
drawing.â€
Accordingly, Owen was despatched for the cap-
_tain’s case of mathematical instruments ; and, when
these were found, the little fellow was shown how
to describe, by means of the compasses and graduated
arc, the subjomed figure.
ARC OF THE SKY,
Zenith,
‘
‘
€
'
i
{
3
{
1
'
i
1
'
4
’
5
,
’
‘
’
'
‘
{
a
1
SIE.
uo. 50 6)0
earns
282 THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD.
“There, my youngster,†said the delighted old
man, as soon as the diagram was finished, “the
upper half circle represents a section of the sky,
and the lower half circle a section of the earth,
and there are 180 degrees in each. Well, the
equator, you know, is at 0 degree on the earth,
while the poles are at 90. Now let us suppose you,
Owen, to be situated at 60 degrees latitude, then
you will have, of course, the upper pole or zenith of
the horizon right over your head. But, this
zenith point, you observe, divides the arc of the
sky into two equal portions, having exactly 90
degrees in each. Then if a line be drawn from the
zenith down to the centre of the earth, it will divide
the arc of the earth also into two equal portions—
each containing 90 degrees as well. Since, then, the
equator 1s 60 degrees from the place we’ve supposed
you to be at, on our little globe here, why the
equator must be, at the same time, 30 degrees above
the line of the horizon, because that is the number
of degrees required to make up the 90 with the are
of the earth on that side of the zenith line. But
30 degrees is exactly the co-latitude of that part of
the little globe here which we’ve supposed you to be
upon, and therefore the co-latitude—or your dis-
tance from the pole—must be exactly equal to the
height of the equator above the horizon. On the
other hand, your co-latitude being 30 degrees, and
there being likzwise 90 degrees on the other side ct
THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD. 2383
the zenith line, why the height of the pole above
the horizon must be just 60 degrees. But this
is your latitude, and therefore the height, or altitude
of the pole is precisely the same as the latitude of
the place.â€
“T see it now, and I don’t think I shall forget
it very soon,†said Owen, and then he repeated to
himself over and over again ;—“ The latitude of a
place is the same as the height of the pole above the
horizon, and the co-latitude the same as the height of
the equator above it.â€
Suddenly the boy paused, as a new thought
entered his mind, and he exclaimed, “But, Captain
Jones, where’s the use of knowing all this, unless we
can tell how high the pole, or the equator, really
is above the horizon? for unless we could find out
that, we couldn’t tell what the latitude was at all.â€
“You're very right,†returned the old man, “and
now we are going to see how that’s to be done.
Well, there’s nothing upon the earth that will serve
us in this matter ; nor can we get outside of it, Owen,
to have a peep at the pole or the equator, and so
learn how high they stand above our horizon.
Besides, even if we could, when we were outside
the globe, we should find that our horizon and
zenith were no longer the same: and so that plan
would be of no use to us. Consequently, we must
turn to our old friends the stars, and see if we can —
learn anything from them. Well, you will re-
284 THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD.
member I told you the other day that the stars all
seemed to be turning round some fixed point in the
sky.†|
“Yes, sir,†answered the pupil. “ That is, they
seem to be doing so, though Hugh and I last night
couldn’t find any such point at all; for every one of
the stars we looked at appeared to be on the move.â€
“Well, we wont mind about that, just now,
youngster,†said the other, “though there és such a
point, sure enough, and it isn’t any star, either.
But, as I was saying, all the stars appear to revolve
about some fixed point in the sky; and if you had
noticed them long enough last night, lad, you would
have found that the circles they described are all
inclined to the horizon ; that is to say, none of the
stars appear in this part of the globe to rise straight
up from the earth, nor to sink straight down below
it, but to take a slanting course through the heavens,
and to revolve as it were on the slope—just the
same as if you were to tilt a barrel on its end, and
make it turn round on its edge, when the hoops
about it, you know, would ali be seen to circulate
slantingly.â€
“Wouldn't they be like the rings on a peg-top,
sir, when it leans on one side as it spins round!â€
suggested the boy. |
“That’s just it, my little man,†responded the Cap-
tain. “But if you were to set out on a long journey
towards the south, shall I tell you what would
Tia BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD. 285
happen?†(The boy nodded assent.) “Why, the
slanting circles that the stars appear to describe
here, would get straighter and straighter, until at
last, when you reached the equator, you would find
that the stars there all rose and set perpendicularly
to the horizon, and traversed the sky straight from
one side to the other—the same as if, instead of
tilting the barrel on its end as before, you turued it
down and caused it to revolve on its side, when all
the hoops, of course, would be seen to run round
straight up above the ground.â€
“ How very odd, sir!†exclaimed the boy.
“ And what’s odder still, youngster,†went on the
sailor, “you’d have found, as you travelled in this
direction to the equator, that the stars in the
extreme south, which I told you rose here only just
above the horizon, and showed themselves but for a
few moments, came up higher and higher, and re-
mained visible for a longer time; while those in the
north, which, as I said before, just grazed the
northern horizon, and dipped below it for an instant
in this part of the globe, would, as you journeyed on
to that -part, get to sink deeper and deeper below
the earth, and continue invisible for a greater period.
Until at length when you reached the line midway
between the poles you would perceive that the fixed
point in the north part of the sky, which all the
stars here appear to revolve round, had sunk go low
that, instead of standing high above the earth as witu
286 THE LOY -AND HIS ORANGE WORLD.
us, it would seem there to be on a level with the
horizon itself; while the stars immediately round
about it, which in these parts never set, but revalve
continually above the earth, would in those: parts
perform only half their course above the horizon,
Moreover, stars that had never risen before to your
view, would have sprung up in the south, one after
another, as you went on; so that at last you'd dis-
cover at the equator that there was another fixed point
in the southern quarter of the heavens which the
stars revolve about, like that in the north. You'd
find, too, that, not only the stars that never rose or
never set to you here, but every one, indeed,
throughout the heavens, would there remain for
twelve hours visible, and concealed for the same time
—each little orb performing half its circle above and
half beneath the horizon, and all revolving round
two opposite points in the sky that seemed, from
such a station, to be on a line with the horizon itself.
Then, again, at that point of the globe no part ot
the heavens would be altogether hidden from your
sight, for the upper and lower sky would become
visible to you one after the other, and in a night of
twelve hours* the whole vault of stars which you .
first observed above you when the evening drew in, —
would, by the time the morning came round, have
* Supposing such ‘@ continuance of darknes3 to be possible
at the ejuator. |
THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD. 987
been carried down beneath, and the lower vault
brought up from below.â€
“ How beautiful it must be to go there,†exclaimed
Owen, with his eyes riveted on the old man. “T
suppose you've seen it often, Captain Jones, when
you were at sea?†: |
“Ay, ay, boy! scores of times,†replied the seaman,
and he had immediately half a dozen stories about
the matter start to the tip of his tongue; re-
membering, however, the many facts he had still
to communicate, the old man dismissed the tales
from his mind, saying, “but we must keep our head
well up to the course we've laid down, lad, or we
shall never reach the port we're bound for. Well,
youngster,†he continued, “if you were to go on still
south’ard past the equator, you would perceive that
the fixed point, which the stars in the south were
revolving about, would appear to come up above
the horizon as you went, while the one which the
stars went round in the north would be seen to sink
below the earth and disappear from your view; and
when you reached that part of the globe which
was just as many degrees removed from the other
side of the equator as the place you just started
from was distant from this side of it, you would find
the whole appearance of the heavens reversed. The
stars in the north, which never set to you before,
would never rise to you then; and those in the
south, which never rose at the spot you departed
988 THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD,
from, would in your new place never set, but remain
visible all the night through; while the whole of
the orbs, instead of coming straight wp from tho
horizon, and sinking straight down below the earth,
and each remaining in sight for exactly twelve
hours, as they did at the equator, would once more
appear to traverse the heavens in a slanting direc-
tion; but instead of sloping as before, towards the
south when they rose, their circles would now be
seen to be inclined up towards the north; and
again, no two of those that rose and set would con-
tinue visible for exactly the same period.â€
“Go on, if you please, sir!†said the youth, more
and more delighted with the description of the
wonderful changes. |
“Then, supposing it were possible for you to
continue right on until you reached the south pole
itself, you would perceive that the fixed point in the
sky, which the southern stars revolved about, kept
on rising higher and higher in the heavens, and the
circles of the stars growing less and less inclined
to the horizon as you proceeded ; so that at length
when you stood on the very pole of the earth, the
fixed point in the sky—instead of being level with
the horizon, as it appeared at the equator, or seeming
to be razsed halfway up the sky, as it did when you
were but halfway towards the pole—would be seen,
now that you had reached the extremity of the earth,
right over your head, while the stars about it would
THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD. 2389
appear to revolve in circuits neither slanting nor
perpendicular to the horizon as formerly, but per-
fectly parallel to it; nor would any of them ever rise
or set there, but all would remain for ever revolving
sideways above the earth in circles that grew smaller
and smaller towards the zenith, like the coils ina
bee-hive.â€
“Qh! I am so much obliged to you, Captain
Jones!†exclaimed the enraptured boy; “it makes
me feel so happy to know all this! And yet I can’t
tell why it should, for what good can the stars ever
do me?â€
“The stars, Owen, have done me many a good
turn,†retorted the sailor ; “ they’ve saved me and my
whole crew from shipwreck over and over again.
And who can say, boy, but they may be one day
the same trusty friends to you? But to keep
to our point, lad. Well, if you were to set off from
the south pole, where we left you, and come back
again to the equator, you would find that the fixed
point, which stood right over your head at the
southern extremity of the earth, would begin fo sink
again, and the stars to slané in their circuits; so that
when you arrived at the equator once more, the
two opposite points in the sky, about which the stars
revolve, would again become visible to you, and ap-
pear level with the northern and southern points of
the horizon, while the stars themselves would no
longer circulate sideways about the earth, but go
U
290 THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD.
straight wp over it. Then, as you progressed to-
wards the other pole, the southern fixed point
would begin to sink and the northern one to rise
in the heavens, while the little orbs would be seen
once more to take a slantyng course through the sky
but in the opposite direction to that which they were
observed to move in on the other side of the
equator; and at last, when you reached the north
pole, you would find the fixed point, which the
northern stars revolved about, was straight over
your head—even as the southern fixed point was
when you were at the south pole; and that the stars
again never rose nor set, but kept on moving con-
tinually in circles parallel with the horizon. But
though the movements of the stars would seem the
same at this pole as at the other, you would find on
noticing the orbs themselves, and the figures they
formed with one another, that not a star you saw
at the opposite extremity of the earth, was to be
observed at this end of it ; for while at the south
pole you would have seen only the southern half of
the sky, at the north pole only the northern part
of it would be visible to you, whereas at the equator
in the course of twelve hours you would have beheld
the two hemispheres— the one succeeded by the
other.†:
“Oh! I see,†cried Owen ; “ we should catch sight
of an opposite half of the sky from each of the
opposite poles, and see the twa, one after another at.
THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD. 291
the equator, just as a-bluebottle inside a humming-
top would see if he looked up only the upper half
of the top spinning sideways about him; and if he
looked down only the lower half doing the same
thing; but, if he looked towards one of the sides,
of course he’d get, as the humming-top spun round,
a view of the whole.â€
“Very nicely explained, youngster,†said the old
sailor, patting the boy on the back. “And what do
you think would happen, Owen,†added his teacher,
“if you could be suddenly carried from this side of
the equator across to the other side of it, and back
again immediately to the place you started from?
Why, you'd see the two fixed points in the heavens,
with all the stars about them, move up and down
just like two youngsters playing see-saw.â€
This supposition tickled the boy’s fancy, so that
he tittered again at the idea of seeing the stars in-
dulge in any such frolics.
“Well,†proceeded the Captain, “let us see what
we can glean from all this. In the first place, then,
we have found that when we're at the north pole the
northern fixed point of the heavens, which the stars
are revolving about, is straight up over our heads ;
_ when we are at the south pole, the southern fixed
point stands over owr heads in like manner; and
when we are at the equator, the two fixed points
are seen on a level with the horizon, and to occupy
the northern and southern points of it. Now our |
vu 2
292 THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD.
little globe has shown us that when we are standing
on the equator the poles of the earth are also on a
level with the horizon, and when we are on either
of the poles themselves that they are perpendicular
to the horizon ; so that if we were at one of the poles
and a line were drawn from the opposite pole
through the one we were standing upon, and ex-
tended on each side to the sky, above and below
us, that line would touch the zenith and nadir,
or upper and lower poles of our horizon—that is
to say, the points directly over our head and
under our feet. But these points would be also
those round which the stars were revolving. And
as a similar line drawn through the poles of the
earth when we are at the equator—where the poles
would be level with the horizon, you know—would
if extended to the sky again meet the fixed points
of the heavens—(for they would be also level with
the horizon then)—it is plain that the two fixed
points in the sky round which the stars revolve, must
always be in a direct line with the poles of the earth
— utself.†|
“Why, yes, so they must, indeed, now I come to
think of it,†said Owen, thoughtfully.
“And that’s the reason, my boy,†returned the
Captain, “why those fixed points in the sky are
called the poles of the heavens, or poles of the world
if you like.â€
Here the conversation was suddenly interrupted
THE BOY AND HIS ORANGE WORLD. 203
by the entrance of the housekeeper witb the tray
full of plates, glasses, and knives ready to be set for
dinner. |
As the dame stood with the table-cloth in her
hand the old man inquired whether she couldn't
give them a few minutes longer; but being informed
that thepudding would be “all abroad,†as Mrs. Pugh
expressed it, and the chicken burnt to a cinder, the
Captain said, “Well, Owen, we must clear the decks,
and you must come again to-morrow and have some
more astronomy and some more pudding.â€
CHAPTER XL
HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE ARE NO ROADS,
FIND THEIR WAY WHERE THERE ARE NO SIGN-
POSTS, AND KNOW HOW FAR THEY HAVE JOUR-
NEYED WHERE THERE ARE NO MILESTONES.
OWEN was with the Captain early the next morning,
when as usual, he had to repeat to the sailor the
greater part of theirconversation of the previous day,
before he could get his oblivious old tutor to re-
member the precise point where they had left off.
This, however, was at length impressed upon the
Captain’s mind, when heproceeded to say, “ Well,then,
first we've found out, you know, that the latitude ot
a place is just the same number of degrees as the
height of the pole of the earth is above the horizon ;
and secondly, that the poles of the earth are ina
HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL, ETC. 295
straight line with the poles of the world; we have
settled also that a degree is the 360th part of a circle,
whether the circle be large or small ; consequently,
the latitude of a place, north or south of the equator,
must be the same number of degrees as the north or
south pole of the heavens appears to be raised above
the horizon. So, you see, weve only to measure
how many degrees high the fixed point in the
heavens, which the stars revolve about, seems to
stand above the horizon, in order to know the
latitude of any place we may be in upon the
earth.â€
. Owen smiled as he said, “It’s all very well,
Captain Jones, to say we've only to measure this
height, but how is that to be done, I should like to
know? You can’t climb up there and put a tape
to it.†And the little fellow laughed outright at the
absurdity of the notion.
“Why, no, lad,†returned the old man, enjoying
the apparent difficulty as much as the boy himself ;
“but there are other ways of measuring besides with
a foot-rule, or tape, or yard-sticks. So our next
step must be to find out how we can measure the
heavens without any such instruments. But to make
_ this quite plain to you, you must do me another
drawing.â€
Accordingly, the boy was busy again, with the
old sailor at his elbow, showing him how to describe
296 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
the following figures by means of the compasses and
arc,
=)
“There, now, lad,†said the sailor, when the
diagrams were finished, “the big are up above is
intended to represent in both drawings a portion of
the sky, and we’ve placed a star there, 50 degrees
above the level of the earth, the horizon being
shown by the dotted straight line at the bottom of
each plan. The height of this star above the
horizon is what we are going to measure by means
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC. 207
of what is called a quadrant, which is represented
at the corner of both of the drawings. This qua-
Nittiyy [79
Lf yy
drant consists of a piece of board, cut so as to form
a quarter of a circle, and graduated round its edge -
that is to say, it is divided into 90 degrees there.
On one side of the quadrant are placed a couple
of little metal plates, with a fine hole in each
of them, for the eye to look through, and these are
called ‘sight-holes ; while, from the centre point of
the circle of which the quadrant is the quarter, is
suspended a thread with a weight or plummet at the
298 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
end of it, so as to cause the line to hang always per-
pendicular to the horizon. Now-suppose, youngster,
you want to measure the altitude of the star repre-
sented in the drawing. Well, you hold the qua-
drant level with the horizon, and then, of course, the
plumb-line hangs at 0 degrees on the graduated are.
As you slant the upper edge of it with the sight-
holes along it 10 degrees above the horizontal line,
the other edge of the quadrant passes just 10
degrees beyond the plumb-line, and so on—each
degree that you incline the one edge upwards, the
other edge is thrown just one degree out of the
perpendicular, and the extent of the inclination
duly indicated by the plummet; till at last the sight-
holes are brought into a direct line with the star
whose altitude you wish to ascertain. Immediately
the rays from it meet the eye, the plumb-line is
held fast ; then the number of degrees that it is
found to cut, or hang over, on the graduated arc,
tells you exactly how many degrees the upper edge
of the instrument has been inclined in order to
bring the little orb into sight, and this consequently
gives you precisely its altitude above the horizon.
The star, you perceive, is 50 degrees high, and the
plumb-line in the second drawing hangs at 50 de-
grees on the graduated arc of the quadrant. Do
you follow that, Owen ?â€
“Oh yes, sir,†returned the boy, “and I'll make
one of those quadrants myself, by and bye. It wont
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC. 295
be very hard to do, will it, sir? Is a quadrant one of
the things you used to work with at sea, Captain
Jones ?â€
“Yes, lad,†replied the old man, “ but mine was
rather different, for I made the one I’ve explained
to you as simple as I could, so that you might
have no difficulty in understanding it; still the
principle is the same as the one I used at sea.
Well, now we know that not only is the latitude
of any place equal to the altitude of the pole of the
earth, and the altitude of the pole of the earth again
equal to the altitude of the pole of the heavens,
but we know also how to measure the height of any
celestial object, and consequently that of the pole
of the heavens among the rest.â€
“Qh! I can make out how you do it, now,â€
cried Owen, “for measuring the height of the pole
of the heavens above the horizon tells you the lati-
tude of the place you're in, of course. Isn’t it
clever of people to find out such things ?â€
“But wait a while, my little man,†interposed
the sailor, “we haven’t got over all our difficulty yet.
If there was a star fixed in the pole of the sky, of
course the only thing required would be to measure
the altitude of that star in order to get at our lati-
tude ; but unfortunately there is no such star to
mark the point that all the others revolve about ;
for you remember I told you that this pole is
not a star, nor is there anything at that particular
300 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
part of the heavens to enable us to distinguish it
from any other point of the sky ; it is in fact merely
the centre of all the circles, that the stars appear
to describe in their course above the earth. So
when I call it a pole you mustn’t imagine, lad,
that there’s a long stick up there, as I used to do
when I was a boy; nor fancy that the pole of the
earth comes out at each end of it, and that the world
is made to spin round upon this like a teetotum.
The pole of anything, bear in mind, is merely the
fixed point or end of the axis on which the thing
turns. Well, then, you understand that the pole
of the heavens is merely a fixed point that the
stars seem to revolve about, and the question is
how are we to tell exactly where that spot is in the
sky, since there’s no mark set up there to distinguish
it?â€
“That's too hard for me to answer,†was the
boy’s reply. “I should never find it out; it would
give me the fidgets if I were to try.â€
“Well, youngster,†replied the old Captain, “ sup-
pose you wanted to find the centre of a circle, how
would you proceed? Why, you'd measure straight
across it, wouldn’t you? and take the half of the
length, which would give you the middle, of course.
So you've only to do the same thing with the stars to
come at the same result—-you’ve merely to measure
the diameter, as it’s called, of the circle described by
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC. 301
them as they revolve about the pole of the heavens,
to find exactly where that pole is. The star that is
usually selected for the purpose of finding the alti-
tude of the celestial pole, is one called the ‘ pole star,’
for it is a very brilliant one, of the second magni-
tude, and but little more than one degree and a half
from the pole of the world itself Being so near
the pole, the pole-star, of course, never sets, and is
therefore of great importance to sailors in the
northern hemisphere. Now, the pole-star is the last
in a group of stars, or constellation, known by the
name of the ‘ Little Bear, which is easily distin-
guished by its being formed of seven stars, arranged
in the same manner as those in the group or con-
stellation styled the ‘Great Bear, from some fancied
resemblance to the shape of that animal.â€
“But how shall I know where to find those
constel—constellations, didn’t you call them, sir—
in the sky ?’ inquired Owen.
“Well,†replied the sailor, “if you turn yourself
towards the north, some fine starry night, and
cast your eye up to the heavens at some distance
above the horizon, you will perceive four bright
stars arranged in the form of almost a square, and
three others extending in a bent line from the
faintest of these. The three stars represent the
tail, and the four form part of the body of the Great
Pear ; they are all, with the exception of the one
302 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
that the tail extends from, of the second magnitude,
and therefore easily perceived. ‘Then if you carry
your eye along the sky in a direct line with the
two stars in the body of the Great Bear that are
the farthest from the tail, you will perceive, at some
slight distance from them, a cluster of seven other -
stars, smaller than those of the Great Bear, but
arranged in the same manner though in a reverse
direction ; that is to say, the three stars in the tail of
the one will point the contrary way to the three stars
in the tail of the other. The seven smaller stars
constitute the constellation called the ‘ Little Bear ;
the four in the form of a square being the body, and
the three extending in a bent line from one of these
being the tail—in the same manner as with the
Great Bear. Now the last star in the tail of the
Little Bear is the brightest of the whole seven,—
some of the others being only of the 4th and 5th
magnitude—and this is the pole-star. It is always
in a line with the two stars in the fore part of the
body of the Great Pear, which two stars are con-
sequently called ‘the pointers, because they in-
variably point towards the pole-star. But to give
you a clearer notion of what I mean, I'll get you,
Owen, to step into the back-parlour and bring me
my atlas, for we shall find there a plan of these
two constellations, that I drew when I was 4
youngster.â€
The book was soon brought and spread out on
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC. 303
the table before the couple. On the fly-leaf of it
was the subjoined diagram.
ae Pare, RY Lad ae re a at
A
ea
aL ee ene
oe ee
a iy! a
SG Ib/ CLAN
esas
“There, youngster, you see the Great and Little
Bear back to back, and with their tails pointing in
opposite directions,†said the old man, as he placed
his finger on the animals in the drawing; “and in
whatever part of their circles they may be, they
always maintain that position with regard. te one
304 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
another. If you look close you'll see that the mag-
nitude of the stars composing the two groups is
shown by the number of rays.* Those stars which
are of the second magnitude—and they are the
largest here given—have six rays to them; those of
the third only five, and so on down to those of the
fifth magnitude, which are the smallest in the draw-
ing, and. have only three. The two foremost stars
in the body of the Great Bear—and which, as I
said before, are called ‘the Pointers’—you will see,
by the series of dots extending from them, are in
a line with the pole-star. The dotted circles
are intended to point out the apparent course of
each of these stars round the pole of the heavens,
the arrows showing the direction in which the
movement seems to take place; and this you can
see by the letters at each of the four points is from
the east round by the south to the west and thence
back by the north to the east again. Now, whether
the circle that a star appears to describe in the
heavens be large or small, it is completed in one
and the same time; that is to say, the star at the
* The magnitude of a star signifies simply its degree of
brightness. The brightest stars are said to be of ‘‘ the jirst
magnitude ;†those which fall so far short of the first degree of
brightness as to make a marked distinction are said to be of
‘*the second magnitude,†and so on down to the sixth or
seventh, which comprise the smallest stars visible to the naked
eye in the clearest night. Those beyond the latter mag-
nitude are termed ‘‘ telescopic stars.� The smallest stars are
supposed to be the most distant.
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC. 305
tip of the tail of the Great Bear, and which you
perceive is the farthest in the drawing from the
centre or pole of the heavens, would take no longer
to travel round, from the point where it now is,
back again to the same point, than would the star
at the tip of the tail of the Little Bear, and which
you see is the nearest of all to the centre. So,
although the pole-star has a much less space to pass
through, in its apparent revolution round the pole,
it seems to travel proportionately slower, and conse-
quently completes its circuit in precisely the same
time as the most distant stars. The circles described
by the stars round the celestial pole are called ‘ the
diurnal circles,’ because they appear to be completed
in exactly one star-day, which you remember is just
upon 23 hours 56 minutes of a mean solar or clock-
day.â€
“ Ah! this makes what you said to me about time
a great deal plainer than it was before, sir,†ex-
claimed the little fellow.
“T dare say, youngster; but we can’t learn all at
once, you know,†returned his tutor friend. “ Well,
now we want to measure the height of the pole by
means of the pole-star. If you look at the drawing
again youll see a line running down it straight
from the north to the south point. This is what’s
called the ‘celestial meridian ; that 1s to say, itis
the line which divides the vault of the heavens into
two equal parts, one on the east, the other on the
&
306 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
| west. This line extends directly north and south,
passing through the zenith or point immediately
overhead, and through the poles of the heavens as
well. Well it’s on this meridian line that all stars
attain their greatest and least altitudes in the course
of their apparent revolutions round the pole, For
instance, Owen, if you look at the drawing once
more, you will see that the pole-star is in the
nearest position which it could possibly reach to
the north. This position, therefore, would be that of
its least altitude above the horizon, and when it
reached the opposite point in its circle, it would, of
course, be the farthest away from the north, and
therefore at its greatest altitude.â€
“So I can see it would, sir,†remarked the hoy.
“Well, let us suppose that the altitude of the
_pole-star is found to be, when measured by the
quadrant at the moment when it no longer appears
to approach the horizon—that is to say, at the period
of its least elevation—50 degrees. Then let us
suppose again that at the period of its greatest ele-
vation,—which would be about two minutes short of
twelve hours after its least—it was found, at the
precise moment when it ceased to recede from the
horizon, to be exactly 53 degrees high. Now, since
the star was 50 degrees high at its least altitude,
and 53 degrees at its greatest, it is plain that the
difference between these figures—which is 3 degrees
—must be exactly the length across the circle that
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC. 807
it described in the heavens.) Then halving this
difference, we have 13 degrees for the distance of
the centre point.* Then adding this 14 degree
to the 50 degrees—which was the extent of the least
altitude—or subtracting the 14 degree from the 53
degrees, which was the extent of its greatest—
we have 514 degrees for the altitude of the centre
point, about which the star appears to revolve, or in
other words the altitude of the north pole of the
heavens itself. Consequently, this would be the north
latitude of the place where the observation was
made ; that is to say, the place would be precisely
514 degrees distant from the equator on the north
side of it, and that is, within a fraction, the latitude
of London.â€
“Oh! thank you, Captain Jones; you’ve made it
so plain to me,†said the boy, “that I do think
when I’ve made my quadrant I shall be able to
measure the height of the pole of the heavens and
the earth, all by myself. I wish Td got the qua-
drant ready now; for it looks as if it would be nice
and starry to-night, and then Id soon find out the
pole-star ; for I’m sure I should know where it was,
after what you have shown me about the Great and
the Little Bear. But there are no real bears up in
the sky, I suppose, sir?â€
* The distance of the pole-star from the pole of the heavens,
is precisely 1 degree and 41 minutes, but it is here made 14 de-
gree for the sake of simplifying the calculation.
x 2
808 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
The old man smiled at the boy’s simplicity, as he
said, “No, no, lad ; they are no more real bears than
they are real castles and mountains that you see in
the fire sometimes. The ancient shepherds, who
were the first astronomers, fancied as they lay out
in the fields at night, tending their flocks, and
gazing at the stars the while, that the figures
formed by the different groups of stars were like
bears, and swans, and eagles, and fishes, and ser-
pents, and all kinds of strange things; so they
called these groups of stars, or constellations, after
the name of the creatures they imagined them to
resemble. Perhaps this was done as a means to
impress the figures formed by the stars on the me-
mory, and so to know their places among one an-
other easier than they could otherwise have done.â€
“Yes, indeed, sir, and a very good way it seems
to me,†remarked the boy; “for I’m sure I shall be
able to remember the figure of that Big and Little
Bear much better than if you had told me they were
two groups of seven stars in the form of a square
with a bent line running out from one corner.â€
“Tl be bound you will, my little fellow,†an-
swered the sailor. “ Well, Owen,†continued the
old man, “we know how to measure the altitude
of the pole by the pole-star. But, to do this, we
require two observations at very nearly twelve
hours apart, and it is seldom that the night admits
of this being done; so we must find out some
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC, 309
readier way of learning whereabouts we are upon
the earth. For if we couldn’t ascertain that, lad, by
some means which we could avail ourselves of every
day, how could ships be navigated on the high sea,
where there are no roads, nor milestones, nor sign-
posts, to tell us which way we are going, or how far
we have travelled—nothing, indeed, in the vast
desert of the ocean to mark one spot from the other.
In such a position therefore, we can only look to
the heavens to guide us. Now, you'll remember we
found out that there are two ways of ascertaining »
the latitude of any place we are in; one is, that such
latitude (or, what is the same thing, our distance
from the equator,) is equal to the height of the
pole of the earth above the horizon ; and the other,
that the co-latitude (or our distance from the pole
of the earth,) is equal to the height of the equator
above the horizon. Accordingly it’s immaterial
which of these points we measure our distance from,
since the result in both cases must be the same.â€
“Yes, sir, you explained that to me before,†said
the boy.
“Let us see, then, by what means we can find
out how high the equator appears above the horizon
in different parts of the earth,†proceeded the old
sailor. “Well, as the poles of the earth are ina
line with the poles of the heavens, it is plain if the
earth were cut right through at the equator, and a
large flat circle placed between the two halves of it,
S10 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
that circle would, (if it were large enough to reach to
the sky,) exactly divide the heavens into two equal
portions, as the equator does the earth itself. The
ring of stars that would be in a line with the
circumference of this immense flat circle, is what is
called by astronomers the ‘ equinoctial line,’ and this
is always precisely level with the equator, in the
same manner as the poles of the heavens are always
in a line with the poles of the earth. Well, itis found
that the sun, in his apparent course through the
stars every year, takes a slanting direction with
regard to this equinoctial line, which he crosses
twice in the twelvemonth. But let me see, how
can I give you a clearer notion of all this? And
the old man shut his eyes, and kept on mumbling
various plans to himself.
Presently he cried, “Oh! I have it.. That old
glass globe I used to keep the gold fish in till they
died, will do famously. You get it down from the
top of the china cupboard.â€
“There, put it on the table, Owen,†continued
the old man, when the boy had mounted a chair and
reached it from the shelf ; “and now you must fill the
globe half up with water.â€
This did not take long to do, and when the vessel
was half filled, Owen, at the old man’s direction,
got a plum from the sideboard, and dropped it into
the centre of the globe.
“We've got another little world now, you see,
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC. 3il
lad,†exclaimed the Captain, pointing to the plum.
“ And we'll suppose the surface of the water to be
on a level with the equator, er middle of the plum,
and the place where the stalk has been shall be the
pole of our little world as before. Then, as the
fish-globe stands for the sky, the line where the
top of the water touches the glass all round the
sphere will represent the equinoctial. Well, if you
tie a bit of thread round the outside of the glass,
so that it shall slant a little above the level of the
water on one side of the sphere, and a little below the
level on the other side, then that thread will give
you a tolerable notion of the ecliptic, or line that
the sun seems to travel along in his apparent course
through the stars every year.â€
The thread was soon fastened round the glass
sphere as directed, and in the manner here shown.
“The points where the thread or line of the
ecliptic cuts the edge of the water which stands for
e
$12 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
the equinoctial line,†the old man began, when the
little model was complete, “are called the equinoxes,
the cne to the east being termed the vernal (or
spring) equinox, and the other, on the west, the
autumnal equinox. At these points the sun is on a
level with the equator, and consequently has no de-
clination whatever. . Then if we suppose the sun, in
his apparent yearly course among the stars to pro-
ceed from E, the vernal equinox, where he is on
the 21st of March every year, and to travel, along
the line indicated by the thread, round the glass
sphere, you will perceive that as he journeys on,
day after day, he will slant away to the north of
the equinoctial line, and get farther and farther
from it, until he reaches (on the 21st of June) what
is termed the ‘summer solstice, and then his dis-
tance from the equinoctial will be 233 degrees,
or in astronomical language, the sun will have
attained his ‘greatest northern declination.’ After
this he will begin to slope back to the equinoctial,
getting nearer and nearer to the level of the
equator, until he gains the western point, W, or
autumnal equinox, which he does about the 23rd
of September, and then he will, once more, be in a
line with it, or in other words, the sun will for the
second time in the year have no declination what-
ever. Then passing the autumnal equinox, his
southern declination will commence, and this will
increase day after day until he reaches ‘the winter
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC. Ble
solstice,* on the 22nd of December, when it will be
at its highest point, and the sun precisely as many
degrees south of the equinoctial line as it was north
of it at the summer solstice six months before.
Leaving this point he will again draw nearer and
nearer to the level of the equator, until he reaches
again the vernal or spring equinox, and then he
will once more have no declination whatever.â€
As the old man entered into the above explana:
tion he drew his finger round the sphere so as to
point out to the boy the direction of the sun’s ap»
parent path through the stars every year.
“The thread round the glass globe has made the
matter much plainer to me, sir,†said Owen; “and
I suppose I am to fancy there are stars all over
the glass sphere, as you call it, and that your
finger was the sun passing through them ?â€
“ Now,†the Captain went on, “I think we under-
stand this matter quite well enough to be able to
comprehend how it’s possible to find out the latitude
of a place by the altitude of the sun. You have
only to bear in mind, lad, that what is: meant by
the sun’s northern or southern declination is simply
its distance north or south of the equinoctial line;
and as the equinoctial line is, as I have shown you
here, always on a, level with the equator, why the
sun’s declination expressed in degrees, is merely the
* Indicated by the place where the thread is tied ; the point of
the summer solstice being supposed to be directly opposite to this,
314 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
number of degrees that he is above or below the
level of the equator itselfâ€
“T shall take care to remember that,†said Owen.
“Now, my lad, get the compasses and do me
another diagram as I direct you.â€
The boy did as he was bidden, and the following
plan was the result.
ARC OF THE SKY.
Zenith.
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC. SLs
“Well, Owen,†said the Captain, “we'll imagine
you to be standing there, right under the zenith,
and you want to find out how high the equator 1s
above the level of the horizon. Then a little before
12 o'clock you take your quadrant and you measure
the height of the sun above the horizon, just at the
moment when he appears to cease to ascend in the
heavens, and that of course will give you his greatest
altitude. Now let us say that you find this to be
precisely 20 degrees, as represented in the drawing,
then that amount added to the sun’s declination, or
subtracted from it—according as he is north or south
of the equinoctial at the time of your making the
observation—will give you the height of the equinoc-
tial line, and consequently that of the equator
above the horizon. Well, there are tables published
which tell the amount of the sun’s declination for
every day in the year, so you turn to these and find,
maybe, that on the day you have measured the sun’s
altitude, his declination is then 20 degrees south
of the equinoctial. So you add this to his meridian
altitude, which was 20 degrees, you remember, and
thus have 40 degrees for the height of the equator
above the level of the horizon. Then, as the
height of the equator is equal to the co-latitude
of the place you are in, and the co-latitude of any
place is merely its distance from the pole of the
earth, you thus find cut that you are 40 degrees
removed from the north pole. And since the
316 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
pole itself is 90 degrees from the equator, it is plain
that if you subtract the 40 from the 90 you will
have 50 degrees for your latitude, or distance
north of the equator itself. Or let us imagine on
the other hand, lad, that you find the meridian
altitude of the sun at another period of the year
to be 60 degrees, and that his declination, as given
in the tables for the day you made your observa-
tion, 18 20 degrees north of the equator; then,
subtracting that amount from the 60 degrees,
you have again 40 degrees for the height of the
equinoctial line; and since this is, as I said before,
the same as the height of the equator, you have only
to subtract it from 90 degrees in order to find the
latitude of the place you're in.â€
“Oh! isn’t it nice and plain now, sir?†cried the
boy. “And that’s the way you used to do it at sea, —
I suppose ?†|
“ Ay, ay, youngster,†answered the sailor ; “ every
day a little before twelve, there we were on the
quarter-deck, with our quadrants in our hands, and
spying away at the sun, until we found he had got
to his highest point in the heavens, and then we
used to make it twelve o’clock, or ‘eight bells,’ as we
gay at sea.†a
“And so you found out where you were!†ex-
claimed Owen, delighted that he could now under-
_ stand how it was possible to ascertain the place of a
vessel where there were no marks to distinguish one
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC. 317
spot from another. “How clever sailors must be,
Captain Jones!â€
“Nay, nay,†returned the old man, “ sailors didn’t
make the discovery, remember—for it was astrono--
mers who taught them how to use the sun and stars
as beacon-lights in their course; and though the little
luminous specks that spangle the heavens at night-
time seem to the uneducated eye to be as useless
as will-o’-the wisps, still had the sky above us been
one blank black dome we should never have been
able to navigate the seas out of sight of land, but
could only have crept timidly along the coast, and
have remained not only estranged from other nations,
but deprived of many comforts that we now derive
from foreign countries. So when you drink your
tea, lad, that has been brought for you from the
other side of the globe, and sweeten it with sugar
that has been shipped from the Western Indies, you
may thank the little stars above you for it all.â€
“Oh! now I see, sir, that the stars are of great
good to us,†said the little fellow, thoughtfully.
_ “Yes, Owen,†added the sailor, “and when you
come to know more about them, you will see that
they are the greatest good to you—giving you the
highest knowledge, and filling your mind with
thoughts of the wondrous power and perfection dis-
played in the universe, and so leading you to the
contemplation of Him who made and harmonized
the whole.â€
318 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
“Ym sure I wish I knew all about them as you
do, Captain Jones,†was the boy’s remark.
“TI know, youngster, but little concerning the
stars,†replied the old seaman; “only as much, I’m
sorry to say, as I was obliged to know in order to
be intrusted with the management of a ship. Ah!
I wish I’d my time to come again, what a clever
fellow I would be to be sure! But, unfortunately,
so we all think when it’s too late; so let it bea
warning to you, my boy, and learn as much as you
can in your young days, for when you're like me
youll be past being taught; and then to try and
impress any new thing on your memory, will be like
a child scribbling on the sands—the next wave will
wash it all out'‘and leave no trace behind. But come,â€
said the old man, “we've still to get at the precise
measurement of the earth, and it’s getting on to
dinner-time I can tell by the scent from the kitchen.
Well, Owen, you know now how to tell when
exactly 1 degree of latitude has been m~asured. But
in order to do this properly, it’s necessary that you
should always keep to the meridian line.â€
“And how are we to make sure of that, sir?â€
asked the boy.
“ That’s not very ditiicult,†proceeded the old man;
“you have only to notice the time at which the pole-
star is at its greatest or least elevation above the
horizon—that is to say, the exact moment when it
crosses the meridian of the place from which you're
measuring, and then to observe as you go along
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN-POSTS, ETC. 519
whether it continues to cross the meridian at pre-
cisely twelve sidereal hours afterwards (for it can
do this only in the meridian line), why that will be
a sure guide to you whether you are measuring in a
straight course or not. So you see, lad, if you found
the pole-star to attain its greatest and least altitude
above the horizon in more or less than 12 sidereal
hours apart, why you might be certain that you were
not directly in the line of the meridian, but had gone
a little way to the west or east of it. Now you
understand how what’s called an arc, or a certain
portion of the meridian line, can be measured; and
you know how to tell when you've travelled exactly
1 degree farther away from the equator, and you
know also how to tell whether you’ve been travelling
in a direct line with the meridian or not, and when
you've done this you can proceed to measure how
many miles there are between the two places.â€
“So you could, sir, easily, I should think,†re-
marked the lad. “I suppose they measure the
miles with a chain, as I’ve seen them do the
fields ?â€
“Yes, youngster, it’s done in some such way as
that,†said the sailor; “and the strange part of the
business is that it’s found that 1 degree of latitude
is of different lengths in different parts of the world.
For instance, in Peru, which is near the equator,
there are somewhat less than 363,000 feet to the
degree; at the Cape of Good Hope, which is about
352 degrees from the equator, there are just upon
820 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL WHERE THERE
364,000 feet to a degree; in England, which is
about 523 degrees from the equator, there are nearly
365,000 feet to a degree; and in Sweden, which is
about 661 from the equator, there are somewhat less
- than 366,000 feet to a degree.†|
“Dear, dear! how very odd!†cried Owen. “T
should have fancied that as a degree you told me was
the 360th part of a circle, every degree would have
been of the same length.â€
“And so they all would, youngster,†replied the
old man, “had the earth been a perfect sphere; but
since it’s found by the most accurate measurement
that the degrees are of different lengths in different
parts of the world, and, moreover, that their length
increases the farther you go from the equator, it is
plain that the earth cannot be a true sphere, but
must be flattened at the poles where the degrees
are the longest; and, consequently, that it must be
more the shape of an orange than that of a perfect
ball. Look at our little model world,†he went on,
as he drew the orange globe towards the boy; “do
you see how flat it is at the end where the stalk
was, and also at the opposite extremity? If
you were to measure it by thrusting a long
darning-needle from the stalk end right through
to the opposite point, you’d find that it would be a
little bit shorter from the top to bottom than it is
straight through from side to side. And it is
found bv calculation from the different lengths
ARE NO ROADS, SIGN POSTS, ETC. 821
of the degrees in different countries, that the
diameter of the earth itself must be a little shorter
from pole to pole than it is from one side of the
equator to the other; that is to say, it is rather
more than 79253 miles through from one point of
the equator to the other, and but little more than
7899 miles through from one pole to the other.
Consequently, you see that the polar diameter, as it
is called, is about 264 miles shorter than the equa-
torial diameter; or, what is the same thing, the one
is very nearly 1-300th part longer than the other.
This is so trifling a difference, that with a 16
inch globe 1t would amount to only the 20th part
of an inch; and, if a model of the earth were
turned of this size in wood, with such a difference
between its two opposite diameters, the nicest eye
or hand would not be able to perceive the flatten-
ing. Therefore, it 1s sufficiently correct for all
ordinary purposes to speak of the earth as a globe,
though, when strictly described, its form is what’s
called an ‘oblate spheroid.’ There, boy, now we
have done : we have measured the earth accurately
—so accurately, indeed, that it is said the error, if
any, cannot exceed 1 mile in the diameter; and, as
convenient numbers for you to remember, you can
bear in mind that in 1 degree of our latitude there
are as many thousands of feet as days in the year;
ihat a degree is about 70 miles long, and that the
Â¥
$22 HOW PEOPLE TRAVEL, ETC.
earth is a little less than 25,000 miles round at the
equator.â€* a
“And now, Owen, we can pipe to dinner,†said
the old man, laughing.
* The equatorial circumference of the earth is precisely
24,899 miles.
CHAPTER XIV
TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF A THOUSAND MILES
| AN HOUR.
WHEN Owen Evans made his appearance at the
old sailor's cottage on the following morning, he
had to run over, as usual, the heads of the several
matters which the old man had communicated to
him on the previous morning.
“Well, youngster,†said the Captain, as soon as
he had been reminded of the point where he had _
ended the day before, “we've measured the earth
right round, and know all about the latitude. But,
as I said before, we two may be situate in the same
latitude and yet be many hundred miles apart. For
instance, if you were at Edinburgh, in Scotland,
and I was at Copenhagen, in Denmark, and your
father was at Moscow, in Russia, we all of us would
be in, as nearly as possible, the same latitude—a little
more than 554 degrees north of the equator—and
Â¥ 2
O24 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
yet your father would be a long way from me, and
I, again, should be a long way from you. So, you
see, there is something more than the mere latitude
required, in order to find out our exact place upon
the earth, We must know not only our latitude,
or how far we are from the meddle or end of the
globe but also our longitude, or whereabouts we are
across it.â€
“You said, Captain Jones,†remarked Owen,
“that the latitude was the breadth of the earth and
the longitude the length of it. But how is it that
the breadth runs from one end to the other and the
length goes crossways like?â€
“Because, my boy,†answered the sailor, “the
polar diameter of the earth is, as I told you, not so
long as its equatorial diameter ; that is to say, the
globe is 26 miles longer across from east to west
at the equator, than it is from north to south, or,
what is the same thing, from pole to pole. Now
you must suppose the earth to be divided into
360 equal parts right round, longitudinally as
well as datetudinally, and imagine that there are a
number of meridian lines scored upon its sur-
iace for this purpose, and running from one end
to the other of it like the marks upon a melon.
Well, the latitude is always measured along these
imaginary meridians, up or down, from the middle
to either end, while the longitude is measured across
them, round to the right or left of some particular
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 328
meridian. But do you cut these lines on the orange,
Owen, and then you'll be sure not to forget them.â€
“Are those like the meridian lines on a globe,
sir?†inquired the boy, holding up the orange when
he had scored it up and down after the Captain’s
directions—thus:
“Yes, they'll do well enough,†answered the old
man, “though on a globe the lines are placed at
every 10 degrees, and here we've put them 15 degrees
apart, because, as youll see by and by, 15 degrees
of longitude is exactly equal to one hour of
time. Well, now we understand, the circles passing
through each end of the globe are the meridian lines,
while those across it are the parallels of latitude ;
the distance wp or down these meridians is the
measure of the latitude, while the distance across
them is the measure of the longitude—the latitude
being measured Vorth or South from the equator,
326 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
and the longitude Kast or West from some par-
ticular meridian.†|
“T don’t think I shall make any mistake about
that now, sir,†said Owen. |
“Well, you remember,†proceeded the Captain,
“what I told you about the poles of the heavens
appearing to shift their places as you travelled
north or south ?â€
“Oh, yes, sir,†exclaimed the boy, “TI recollect it
very well. You said, that if we could be carried, ina
moment, backwards and forwards across the equator,
we should see the poles of the heavens playing see-
saw in the sky—first one coming up and then the
other ; and that the further we went to the north
or the south, the higher each of them would appear
to be lifted up; while the stars, you said, would
seem to slant more and more across the heavens as
we travelled away from the equator, where they
would rise exactly—perpendicular, I think you
called it, to the horizon; whereas at the poles they
would all move round quite—what was the word ?
oh, yes, quite parallel to it.â€
“Capitally said, my little fellow,†cried the
sailor. “ Well, then you see, Owen, if you travel
along any one of the meridian lines, the heavens
will be continually changing their appearance to
you, so that to persons situate along the same meri-
dian, and consequently having different latitudes,
the sky must be different at all moments; that is,
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. O27
they will not see exactly the same stars, and the
circles of those they do see will be differently in-
clined to the horizon, while the stars themselves will
attain different altitudes above it. But to persons
situate on the same parallel of latitude, and therefore
having different longitudes, the vault above them
will present precisely the same aspect; the stars
will be seen to attain the same altitudes, and their
circles to be equally inclined to the horizon. So at
different longitudes, remember, there is nof, as there
as at different latitudes, any marked change in the
appearance of the heavens to tell us that we are at
different parts of the earth.â€
“Then how can you find out your difference of
longitude, sir,†asked the pupil, “if there’s nothing
in the heavens to show that you’re in a different
place?â€
“Not quite so quick, youngster,†cried the old
Captain; “for though persons situate in the same
latitude, but at different longitudes, see the same
stars, and these attain the same altitudes, they do
not cross the meridian, or, what is the same thing,
reach their greatest and least heights, at the same
tume ; while to persons having the same longitude, but
én different latitudes, though the stars do noé attain
the same altitudes, they all come to the meridian
at the same moment. So, bear in mind, Owen, that
at different latitudes the stars attain different alti-
tudes, but cross the meridian at the same time,
8928 § TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
whereas at different longitudes the stars attain the
same alitude but cross the meridian at different
tumes.†|
“Tcan partly understand that,†observed the lad;
“for as the stars seem to go over our heads from
the east to the west, of course they can’t pass over
my head at the same moment as they do over the
head of any one else who is farther to the east or
west than I am.â€
“There's a sharp little man,†replied the tutor ;
“and you're quite right too. Well, then, you per-
ceive, lad, that as we learnt to tell the latitude by the
diferent altitudes attained by the sun and stars at
different distances north or south of the equator, we
must now try if we can’t learn to tell the longitude
by the different times that the sun and stars come to
the meridian at different distances east or west of
‘Some well-known place. But, to begin; let us
understand what would happen if we could be in
different places to the east or west at the same time.
Let us suppose, my little man, that you are pos-
sessed of the wonderful flying carpet spoken of in fairy
tales, and that you can transport yourself by its
means round the world at a moment’s notice. Well,
we will imagine you to be at the Cape of Good
Hope, where you’ve just measured the sun’s altitude
with your quadrant, and found it to be exactly
on the meridian above you, marking the very mo-
ment of noon, and the people there are abroad
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 329
with their large umbrellas to screen themselves
from the fire of its rays. Then away you fly to
Cape Horn, the extreme point of South America,
and, reaching it the instant after, there you per-
ceive to your astonishment the east still crimson
with the dawn, and the sun like a huge liqrid ball of
fire just peeping above the horizon, while the work-
men, newly risen from their beds, go trudging
along, yawning, on their way to their labour. Away-
you fly again, and the next moment you are at
New Zealand, where you find the stars sparkling
in the sky, the moon silvering the sea with her
beams, the villages all still, and the country dusked
with the shadows of night. In an imstant you
are off once more, and gain Australia ; here you
behold the western quarter of the sky purple
with the last rays of the setting sun, and the
evening star shining alone in the vault, while
the lights are beginning to twinkle, one after
another, in the casements, and the cattle in
the plains lowing as they go to their places of
shelter for the coming night. Flying from this by
means of your magic carpet, you return to the
place you started from, and arriving there, the
moment after you quitted it, you see the sun still
high in the heavens, with his beams raining light
and heat upon the land and sea, and bathing the
earth in a flood of golden lustre.â€
“How beautiful it would be to see all this,â€
330 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
exclaimed the delighted boy; “but of course there
are no such things as magic carpets, Captain Jones?â€
“No, youngster,†returned the old man; “but
there are things much more wonderful, and quite as
rapid, now-a-days; they are what are called electric
telegraphs, for by them it’s quite possible. to com-
municate with different parts of the earth as swiftly
as the lightning travels. So if there was only a
wire reaching to the countries I have just spoken of, ©
and you were to send a message along it, inquiring
whereabouts the sun was in those parts when it was
over your head at the Cape of Good Hope, you'd
have just such an account as I have given you of
the different time of day at each of those places.
Strange, too, as it may appear to you, although
there ’s no telegraph wire right round the earth yet,
a message often reaches a place some time before it
left the station 1t was sent.from; for as the light-
ning travels a good bit quicker than the sun appears
to do, a message leaving a part of the earth, say at
exactly 12 o'clock, would arrive at another part that
was 1 degree to the west of it, nearly 4 minutes
before the time of its leaving the first.â€
“How funny !†cried Owen.
“Yes, it may sound funny,†replied the sailor,
“but it’s quite true for all that. However, instead
of supposing you to make the tour of the earth in an
instant, and so to see every hour of the day all at
once, let us imagine you to travel round it at the
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 33]
rate of rather more than a thousand miles an hour.
Then as the earth is 24,900 miles round, you’d
complete your tour of it in exactly 24 hours,
which is just the same time you know as the sun
appears to do the journey in. Let us imagine,
moreover, that you go from east to west, as he seems
to us to do—then what do you think would occur?
Why, instead of there being any sun-rise or sun-set
to you that day, or any morning, or evening, or
night, you would have one continuous noon through-
out the 24 hours; you would have no 1 o'clock, nor
2 o'clock, nor 3 o’clock, and so on, but one entire
day of 12 o'clock; for as the sun was on the meri-
dian at the time you started, and we suppose you to
go right round the earth in precisely the same time
as he does, it is plain that you and he would cross
each fresh meridian exactly at the same moment, and
consequently, although one hour would have elapsed
when you both had travelled 15 degrees, there would
be nothing in the appearence of the heavens or the
earth to note any difference in the period of the
day. So that really, during those 24 hours, time
would have seemed to you to have stood still, and
when you returned you would have missed a morning
and an evening, and consequently have lost one
entire natural day as much as if it had never
existed,†| |
“Qh! isn’t it curious, sir? inquired the lad;
“but I can see how it’s done.â€
302 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
“Yes, lad!†continued the Captain. “But come,
I think we understand now, Owen, that the world
is a great clock, marking a different hour at every’
15 degrees of longitude, so that when it marks 12
o'clock with you, it is 1 o'clock at 15 degrees to
the east of you, and I1 o'clock at 15 degrees to
the west, and so on all round the world—the time
of every place being just an hour earlier or later,
according as it is that number of degrees eastward
or westward of another meridian. Well, then, lad,
since 1 hour of time is exactly equal to 15 degrees
of longitude,* it is plain that we can use this
difference of time between places having different
longitudes, to measure their distance to the east or
west of one another; for we have only to pro-
vide ourselves with an accurate time-keeper, and
having marked the moment by it when a certain
star appears to cross the meridian of one place, then
to notice how much earlier or later the star seems to
pass over that of another, in order to find out
* A degree of longitude is divided into minutes and seconds,
like hours; and therefore, as 15 degrees of longitude are equal
to 1 hour of time, 15 minutes, or 15 seconds of longitude must
be equal to 1 minute or 1 second of time. One degree of longi-
tude is equal to 4 minutes of time. One degree of longitude is,
at the Equator, rather more than 69 miles long; 1 minute of
longitude about 1 mile 800 feet ; and 1 second of longitude 101
feet ; while 1 hour of time corresponds to 1035 miles of space
at the equator ; 1 minute of time to 17} miles there; and 1
second of time to about 1500 feet,
~
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 333
how many degrees of longitude the two places are
apart, |
“And is that the way you used to do it at sea,
sir?†asked Owen.
“No, my boy, it was not quite so simple as that,â€
answered the Captain.. “ You see, chronometers are
still teo imperfect for us to trust entirely to, and we
therefore require some mode of determining our
longitude which is less lable to error, and upon
which the Captain of a vessel can securely stake the
lives of himself and crew, as well as the fortunes
of his employers. However well a chronometer may
vo for a few hours, or even days, still during long
voyages, lasting for months and sometimes years,
a very slight irregularity becomes so magnified as to
make us seek for some more trusty guide than a
mere bit of clock-work to direct us across the seas:
It’s true ships generally carry more than one
chronometer with them, so that each may check the
other. Still, sailors never rely on them alone. On
land it has been proposed to use a series of signals
as a means of communicating the time from one
place to another—such as letting off rockets at
stated intervals ; but as these can be seen only ata
distance of 50 or 60 miles, you can readily understand
the large number of stations that would be required
in order to propagate the true time at the place
which the longitudes are reckoned from, over a small
extent of country. Instead of these artificial signals,
ood TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
however, others have proposed that geographers, and
such as are interested in determining the longitude
of different places, should avail themselves of natural
ones, which are visible at once over a whole hemi-
sphere. Such natural signals are afforded us by
the eclipses of the moons to the planet Jupiter; and,
as the time at which these eclipses will be seen to
occur at Greenwich can be foretold by calculation
from previous observations, it is evident that they
may be used, as a means of making known the true
time at Greenwich at the moment they are seen to
take place in any other part of the world. Accord-
ingly, a person observing any one of these eclipses
from a distant place, and noting the moment of
time at which it was found to occur, might make
use of the predicted Greenwich time — in the
same manner as if he had received a special com-
munication, then and there, from the spot, telling
him the very hour, minute, and second that the
hands of the Greenwich clock were marking at that
particular instant. Then finding the difference
between that and his own time, he might at once
proceed to determine how many degrees longitude
he was to the east or west of the Greenwich
meridian.â€
“ This seems quite as clever as the way of finding
the latitude by the height of the Pole-star, or the
sun at the time of its crossing the meridian, sir,â€
remarked Owen. “TI never should have thought it
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 235
was possible to have a communication, as you call it,
from Greenwich while you were in the middle of
the sea,†.
“But you see, youngster, it is quite possible,â€
replied the Captain; “and if we hadn’t some means
of telling what hour it is by the Greenwich clock,
when we are hundreds of miles away from it, no
_ ship could traverse the sea in safety. However, it’s
not by the eclipses of Jupiter’s moons that sailors
ascertain their longitudes, for those eclipses happen
only at certain times, and even then you can’t get
the longitude very precisely by that method. What’s
more, too, the observation cannot be well made at
sea, So we must find out some other means which
are of more regular occurrence, and which the sailor
can avail himself of almost every night.â€
“} wonder what they are,†said the boy half to
himself.
“Well, lad,†proceeded the old man, “if there
was a clock in the heavens with a dial plate and
hands to it always marking Greenwich time, the
longitude could easily be come at.â€
“Yes, of course it could,†exclaimed Owen; “but
there isn’t any such clock, sir.â€
“Don’t make quite so sure of that,†interposed his
tutor, “Let us see what a clock really consists of.
The dial-plate, you know, has a set of marks upon it
at equal distances, and the hands, by passing along
these, point out to us what the time is, or how many
336 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
minutes have passed since we last looked at the
daal-plate and found the hands in a certain position.
If, however, the marks were placed not at equal, but
at unequal distances round the dial-plate—and if the
hands, instead of being in the centre, were put a
little bit on one side—and if again, instead of con-
tinuing to move round always at the same rate, the
hands went sometimes slower and sometimes quicker
than at others—still we should be able to tell what
time it was by such a clock quite as truly (though
perhaps with a little more trouble) provided in the
first place that we knew the precise distance between
the hour and minute marks; and secondly, that we
knew exactly how much the hands were placed out
of the centre; and thirdly, that we were perfectly
conversant with the nature of the works, so as to
be able to tell with certainty at every moment at
what rate the hands were travelling, or, what is the
same thing, how far they would travel round the dial
in a certain time.â€
“Yes; but such a clock as that, sir, would bea
funny kind of time-piece, indeed,†laughed the little
clockmaker. “ With the hands going all askew and
running along sometimes, and creeping round at
others; and the hours too put round the dial-plate
all unevenly—why who ’d ever look at such a queer
thing?†and the boy, full of his knowledge of the
construction of dial-plates, and hands. and clock-
work, chuckled immoderately at the idea of a time-
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR, 387
piece so thoroughly different from all he had seen ’
and mare,
“Such a clock,†smiled the Captain, “might be
looked upon as a very poor one, no doubt. If,
however, Owen, it was the only one we had to tell
the hour by, and if an immense amount of money
and thousands of lives depended on our having a
perfect knowledge of Greenwich time, we should
think it a most valuable boon, and consider no
labour thrown away that served to make us ac-
quainted with the principle of its movements, or
that taught us how to read the Greenwich time by
it correctly. Well, the sky is the illuminated face
of the clock I’ve been speaking of ; the stars are the
hour and minute marks, set like jewels round the
dial-plate ; and the moon is the silver hand which,
though apparently moving always at the same rate,
is found when accurately watched to be travelling
quicker sometimes than at others—completing the
circuit of the starry dial in the period of a month;
and gliding over some of the stars in her course, so
as to screen them from our sight, and skimming
beside and between others. Now, the moon’s place
among the stars can at any period, when the
weather admits of the observation, be accurately
measured by an instrument called a sextant,* much
* A sextant is an instrument like a quadrant, with a small
telescope placed where the eye-piece is in the latter instru-
Z
358 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
in the same way as we should measure by a pair of
compasses how far the hour hand of a dial is from any
of the figures placed around it; and so we can find out
at any time, by the known rate of its travelling, the
precise moment of the day or night. Such, boy, is
what is called the lunar method of determining the
longitude ; for it is by studying the moon’s motion
among the constellations that astronomers are able
to foretell with the greatest certainty—years even
before the time—the precise place that the moon will
be seen to occupy among the stars, from every part of
the earth at every moment, of every day, in every
year. This being done in true Greenwich time,
and the distance of the moon from the most conspi-
cuous of the heavenly orbs calculated and published,
long beforehand, in Government books for the guide
of those traversing the seas, it is evident that directly
the Captain of a vessel measures with his sextant
the moon’s distance from any of the ‘longitude-stars’
(as: they are calied, from the fact of their position
in the sky having been determined for that purpose
with the greatest care)—directly, I say, he has
done this, and noted how many hours, minutes and
seconds it is after mid-day with him when he makes
the observation, he has indeed compared the time of
ment. The “limb,†or graduated are on which the distances
are measured, consists of the sixth of a circle instead of the
sourth, and hence its name.
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 309
the part of the world which he may be in, with that
of Greenwich, and so determined his longitude east
or west of that place—from. which all English longi-
tudes are reckoned. And now you know, youngster,
how the latitude and longitude of places are made
out; or, what is the same thing, you know how it’s
possible to tell the exact spot you are in, and
whither you are going, and how far you have
travelled, where there are neither milestones nor
sign-posts, nor indeed any mark on the earth to dis-
tinguish one part of 1t from another.â€
“Oh! thank you, sir,†cried the little fellow.
“Tm sure I shall never see the moon again floating
in the heavens, but I shall think of the hundreds
of ships far away at sea, and how anxiously the
sailors are watching its path through the sky, and
measuring its distance from the different stars round
about it. But, Captain Jones,†added the boy, after
a@ moment's pause, “you always speak of the sun
and stars appearing to go round the earth. I’ve
heard father, too, say that the earth itself turns
round, but I never could make it out. I’m sure, if
there is any believing one’s eyes, I see the sun rise
over towards Bronllys and set towards Builth
every day, so that it must go right across the sky.â€
“Let us ascertain, then, in the first place,†an-
swered the sailor, “whether seeing is always
believing, and whether our eyes may not deceive us
sometimes, leading us to fancy things in motion
z 2
340 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
which we know to be positively at rest. Now. you
take this penny, Owen; go to the end of the room
and hold it facing the window about a foot away
from you, so that it may be in a line with the bridge
of your nose ; then shut the right eye, and you will
see the penny with the left eye, in a line with the
right side of the window. After that, shut the left
eye and open the right at the same moment, and you
will see the coin appear to shift over from the right
to the left side of the window frame, so as to seem
to travel the entire width of the casement.â€
Owen made the experiment as directed, and
cried out as he did so, “Oh! yes, so it does, I
declare. How very funny! It seems to me to
jump right over from one side to the other ; and as
I keep opening first one eye and then the other, the
penny appears to move backwards and forwards
just like what Mr. Wilkins calls ‘the bob’ to the
pendulum.â€
“And yet I suppose,†said the old man, “you
are thoroughly satisfied that the penny remained
in the same place all the while ?â€
“Oh! yes, I’m sure of that,†exclaimed the boy ;
“for I held it tight.â€
“Well, then, Owen,†added the sailor, “ you must
come to the conclusion that your eyes are not to be
trusted in this respect, and that things may appear
to you to move when you are certain they are
standing still, But now let us see how we know that
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR, 34]
we are changing our place at any time. Of course
if we walk or run we are conscious that we are
moving by some effort of our’ own—though even
then we might. be deceived. For if you wera
aboard a ship that was sailing at the rate of three
knots an hour through the water, and you started
to walk from the head to the stern at precisely the
same rate as the vessel was travelling, you’d remain
exactly in the same place, and instead of going to
the stern, the stern would come to you, since you’d
only prevent yourself being carried along with
the ship as it went. So, though you would have
appeared to have altered your place with regard to
the different parts of the vessel, you would really
have remained where you were, with regard to the
different objects outside of it. However, don’t let
us trouble ourselves with this kind of motion, but
consider only what occurs when we are carried
along by some power other than our own. How are
we to tell we are moving then, supposing we close
our eyes, and so shut out all external objects from
us?â€
“YT should know very well I was going along by
the jerks and jolts I should feel on the road,â€
answered the boy, sharply.
“Ah, but suppose the road was perfectly even,â€
added the Captain, “and the conveyance we were
travelling in was perfectly silent. How would you
tell then ?â€
342 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
“Why, I should know by the air blowing against
my face as I went through it,†replied Owen.
“Yes.†went on the old man; “but ifthe air
travelled with you as it does when you pull the
windows up in a carriage, would you have any |
sense of it then, think you ?†-
“Well, no, sir,†said the lad, after a few moments’
reflection ; “I don’t think I could tell in such a
case as that—at least, if I wasn’t allowed to look at
the things outside.â€
“No, my boy, you could not tell,†returned the
sailor. “You would know certainly when the
conveyance moved on, or when it stopped, or if it
turned a sharp corner ; for all these would be alter-
ations in the uniformity of your motion, which
your senses could give you positive evidence of,
since you would be jerked back in the one case,
forward in the other, and on one side in the third.
But if the movement was perfectly steady, and
maintained always in the same direction, and at the
same speed, there would be nothing but external
objects to guide you. Now this is exactly what
occurs in the cabin of a large vessel going smoothly
through the sea. Not a thing tells us there of the
way we are making, unless, indeed, we listen to the
sound of the water rippling past the sides of the
ship. There we read, we sit, we walk, as on land.
Ifa ball be thrown straight up, it falls back in the
hand ; if dropped, it lights at the feet. Insects buzz
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 843
around us, the same as if we were sitting still
in the open air; and the smoke ascends from
our cigar in the same manner as it would on
shore. If, however, we go on deck, the case is
altered. The air, not travelling with us, drifts back
the smoke from the galley ‘fire and the streamers
from the mast-kead, as well as any light object, such
as teathers, that may be cast over the ship’s sides,
though really these remain at rest, and we leave them
behind. In the case of the movement of the earth,
however, we must remember that it is a motion
pervading the whole—a motion common not only to
the solid mass beneath, but also to the ocean which
flows around it, as well as the air that rests upon it,
and the clouds that float above it. Then, as such
a motion,—in which all things connected with the
earth partake alike,—would displace no object,
and interfere with no natural processes, nor produce
any shocks or jerks, or tossings from one side to the
_ other, it is plain that we might be utterly uncon-
scious of it. Since all things on the surface would
maintain the same places one among another, we
could have no more sense of it than if we were
travelling in a balloon, where the motion, even in
the most furious hurricane, is so imperceptible, that
it 18 impossible to tell whether we are rising or
sinking, or which way we are drifting, excepting by
pieces of paper thrown over from the car. Well,
then, as it is only by external objects that we can
344 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
gain a knowledge of our change of place when tha
motion is equable and steady, let us turn our eyes
to the heavens, and see what they will teil us upon
this matter.â€
“Of course, sir, if the earth moves altogether,
and goes on always steadily,†said Owen, “I don't
see how we are to know whether it’s moving or
not. But how could the motion of the earth make
the sun and stars appear to go over it, as they do?â€
“Tf you’d ever been on board o’ ship, lad,†replied
the seaman, “and looked over the side of the vessel,
you'd have seen the water hurrying past it in an
opposite direction—this alone appearing to move,
while the vessel itself seemed positively motion-
less. It is the same with the log when cast upon
the sea; though you know it to remain where it
is thrown, still, you cannot but believe it to be
carried by currents rapidly away from the ship.
But it is when the cry of ‘A man overboard’ is raised,
and you catch sight of the poor fellow in the water
before the sails are put aback, that the illusion is
most complete ; for, though you see him struggling
towards the vessel, he appears to be drifting fast
astern, as if hurried from the hull by some adverse
torrent. It’s at such times as these, Owen, that
the illusion becomes more strongly impressed on
the mind, because, being anxious for the poor fellow
to near the vessel, we are more particularly alive to
the appearance of his being carried from it.â€
A THOUSAND MILES AN TOUR. og
“T dare say, sir,†said the youth, in a pitcous voice.
“ Again, boy,†went on the tutor, “when sailing
near the shore, the whole line of coast, with its
cliffs, trees, meadows, and buildings, appear to be
gliding past us, while we seem to be standing still ;
for since the different parts of the vessel always
keep the same position with regard to ourselves, we
fancy them to be at rest, and the motionof the ship
to be transferred to the objects outside of it, and
that in the opposite direction to its own. In
a railway carriage, too, the same illusion may be
noticed ; for if, while the train is darting along, we
fix our eye upon some object midway between it and
the distance, the whole landscape will seem to be
thrown into rotation, and the trees, and hedges,
and houses, to move round that object asa centre,—
the fields in the foreground appearing to rush rapidly
backwards, or the contrary way to the one we are
travelling, and the hills in the distance to be carried
gently forwards in the same direction as ourselves.â€
“But is there any reason for all these strange
things, sir?†inquired the boy.
“We are coming to that, youngster,†replied the
Captain. “You see, motion is not a perception of
our senses, but an imference drawn by a rapid pro-
cess of reasoning whenever external objects appear
to change their places with regard to ourselves,
Then, as this apparent change of place is the same,
_ whether we or the objects themselves move, it
546 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
becomes difficult-to tell whether they or ourselves
are really in motion. Accordingly, when we form
part of a large moving mass, such as a ship or the
earth, and the things wnmediately round about us
maintain the same position with respect to our-
selves, we are deprived of our ordinary means of
judging, and so cannot help fancying that we are
at rest—ascribing the seeming alteration of posi-
tion among distant objects to some motion of their
own.†|
“ZT think I can make out what you mean, sir,â€
sald Owen. “ When we are moving along by our-
selves, the objects nearest to us seem to go the quickest
past us. But if we are carried forwards with a
number of other things, so that what is nearest to us
appears to stand still, then we fancy we are standing
still too, and that the things in the distance are
going on instead of us.â€
“Exactly so, my boy,†replied the sailor ; “ for
it’s by these near objects we always judge whether
we are moving or not. Suppose you are in a
large wood, where, look which way you will, you
can see nothing but trunks of trees, one after another
as far as your eye can carry you. Well, if you were
to move but a few paces then, youd find a great
change in the apparent places of all the nearer
trunks, both with respect to yourself and among
one another. Some of the trunks which previously
hid those behind them from -your view would seem
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 347
to pass from before the others, and allow the hinder
ones to come into sight ; others, that you could
before see the light between, would appear to glide
one over the other, and to shut out the more distant.
ones; while among the trunks in the extreme dis-
tance, you would observe no great change of position.â€
“Oh, I remember, when I’ve been to the spruce
plantation down at Llangoed with father,†ex-
claimed the lad, “I’ve seen the trees, as I walked
along, move all round about me. I’ve watched
them often and often, and wondered whatever could’
make them do so.â€
“Well, youngster, if you ll wait a few minutes,
T’ll tell you,†added the old man. “ Now, if you
had walked along through the wood in a straight
line, and noticed well what occurred, you would
have found that the trunks on the right and leit
hand of you would have seemed to have moved
backwards as you went forwards; those that were
the nearest to you on your right or left would have
appeared to have receded the farthest, and the more
distant ones to have gone back only a short way ;
while those right before you would have remained in
the same line as they were at first, but seemed to have
grown bigger and bigger as you approached them ;
and these right behind you to have kept in the same
line as before, but to have become smaller and smaller
as you wert from them. Well, Owen, the reason
of this is, that every object which is on a level
348 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
with our eye is referred by us to some point of our
horizon—which, you know, is a circle having always
ourselves, or rather our eye, for its centre; and as,
when we move along, our horizon shifts—for we
carry with us, remember, the circle limiting our
view,—the points on the horizon, to which- we refer
near objects, appear to revolve about the objects
themselves as centres—the swiftness with which
they seem to do this being according to their near-
ness to us.â€
Then the old man directed Owen how to describe
the following diagram.
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 349
“ Now, to make the matter clearer to you,†went
on the Captain, as soon as the diagram was finished,
“we ‘ll suppose the five dots here in a straight line
to be the trunks of five trees in a wood, and the
last of them to be in the extreme distance. Well,
if, before proceeding in the direction shown by the
arrow on the left, you were to look along those
trees, the first would appear to cover all the others,
and exclude them from your sight. But as you
journeyed through the wood, the trees would begin
to separate, each becoming visible to you, one after
another ; so that if, when you had gone a few paces,
you looked back towards them in the manner
represented by the eye at the top of the drawing,
they would no longer appear hidden by the front
one, but seem to have spread wide apart, and to
have travelled backwards along the circle of the
horizon as you went forwards, the nearest tree
appearing to have moved the greatest distance, and
the most remote to have, comparatively, stood still.
That is to say, the dot or tree marked I, would —
have seemed, as you journeyed from one point of
sight to the other, to have passed along the are of
the horizon from V to 1; for instead of appearing
in a line with the most remote tree at V, it would
. then appear in a line with the point marked 1;
while the tree marked II would seem to have
moved from the point V to 2, and so on, each
more distant tree appearing to have moved through
850 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
a smaller arc of the circle, till the tree marked
V, or that in the extreme distance, would seem to
have remained, as nearly as possible, in the same spot.
This ig what is called parallax.* If, however, we
imagine the first tree to stand for the mast of some
ship we are sailing in, then, as this will travel with
us, going forwards as we go, and always maintaining
the same position with regard to ourselyes—as indi-
cated by the dotted lines in the drawing—we shall
* Parallaxis simply the apparent change of place in an object,
which arises from a real change of place in a spectator—that is
to say, it is the different direction an object is seen in from
a different point of sight. The apparent motion of a near object
on viewing it with first one eye and then the other, as with the
penny before described, is due solely to this cause; for looking at
the same object with the other eye, is merely regarding it from
another point of sight, and the effect is the same whether the
difference between the points of sight amount only to 2} inches
{as with the two eyes, when the observer is stationary and uses
each of them successively) or to some hundred feet, as repre-
sented by the two eyes in the diagram—where the observer is
supposed to have moved on some considerable distance. The
same principle, carried out to the stars as seen from different
parts of the earth, is one of the most important laws in Astro-
nomy. Let ussuppose the dot IV in the engraving to represent,
instead of a tree, some planet as seen from the earth’s centre by
the lower eye, and the point 4 the direction in which this same
planet would be seen by an observer on the earth’s surface as
represented by the upper eye, then the difference between the ap-
parent positions of this body, when viewed from the surface of
the earth and its centre, would be what is called the planet’s
** parallax,†and be equal to the arc or portion of the circle
contained between V and 4; that is to say, this is the distance
the planet would appear to have been displaced. ,
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 351
be deprived of the principal means of judging of
our motion; accordingly, perceiving that the object
nearest to us stands still, instead of travelling past
us at the greatest rate of all, we shall believe that
we ourselves have not moved, and that the apparent
change of place among the more distant objects
proceeds from some motion of their own. In the
same manner, too, as we are led to believe things to
be moving that are really at rest by transferring our
own motion to them in the contrary direction, so we
may be induced to fancy we ourselves are going on in
a certain line when we are positively standing still, by
transferring to ourselves the motion of some ob-
ject travelling in the opposite line. Thus we can be
made to imagine that we are being carried forward
by the mere sight of something moving backward
tous. ‘This is frequently the case with passengers
in a railway carriage on seeing another train come
in at the moment they are expecting to start. No
sooner are the other carriages seen to move past
their own in the opposite direction to the one they
are about to travel in, than, (the effects being the
same whether they are carried past the others or
the others past them,) all feel themselves to be
moving, and a cry is raised of ‘Now we’re off.
Well, Owen, I think we understand, after all this,
that we have no positive sense of motion in our-
selves when we are carried along steadily in one
direction, and that, under such circumstances, it is
~3b% TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
merely by the apparent change of place among
external objects with respect to us, we come to the
conclusion that we are in motion. We understand,
too, that when the things immediately round about
us are carried along with us, we are deprived of our
ordinary means of judging, and not only believe
ourselves to be at rest, but fancy our own motion to
be transferred to remote objects and that in the
opposite direction.â€
“Yes, sir, I understand all that perfectly,†said
the boy.
“Now, Owen, let us suppose,†proceeded the
Captain, “the earth to turn round, and see what
would happen. In the first place it is clear that
we, and every one else, would be unable to perceive
any motion in it, for our horizon—the circle limit-
ing our view—being carried round with us, would,
so long as we remained in the same place, constantly
comprise the same objects, and be itself bounded bv
precisely the same distant hills and plains. We
should have the same landscape continually before
eur eyes; there would be the same river running
through it always in the same direction, the same
woods pluming the same fields, the same mountains
piercing the sky from the same spot, the same
homesteads studding the same plains, and the wind-
mill on the hill always at the same point,—that is
to say, the various objects round about us, which
serve us for landmarks, would always retain with
A THOUSAND MILES AN Hour. 353
respect to us and themselves the same invariable
situations—the-east and west, like the north and
south, ever lying over against the same parts of: the
distance. Then the perfect evenness and regularity
of the motion of so large a mass—a motion which it
would be impossible to feel, and which, from all
things immediately around us partaking in it alike,
16 would be impossible also to infer from any change
among the objects on the earth—all would naturally
prevent us having any suspicion that we and every-
thing about us, which appeared so still, were con-
tinually shifting our places with regard to the
centre of the earth itself. When, too, we directed
our attention to objects not participating in our
notion, such as the sun and stars, we should un-
wittingly transfer our own movement to them in
a contrary direction, and so they would seem to be
constantly moving round us rather than we round
them.â€
“Yes, [ can see now, sir†remarked the lad, “that
_ the appearance would be all the same whether the
earth went round the sun or the sun round the
earth. But, Captain Jones, if it would be all the
same, why should they want to make out that the
earth goes round the sun?â€
“Why, my boy, there are several reasons,†re-
plied the old man; “for that being more hikely
than the sun and stars moving round the earth.
For if the latter were the case the sky must be solid
A 4
S54 TRAVELLING Al’ THE RATE OF
so as to. admit of the stars being fixed to its surface;
for as they always keep the same places among
themselves, and form precisely the same figures, night
after night, it is evident we must, if we suppose
them to go round the earth, believe them to be
fastened in some way or other to the heavens, in order
to prevent any derangement occurring among them.
Again, the enormous rate that the sun and stars
must travel at in order to complete their revolutions
about the earth in the course of 24 hours, is beyond
all belief. The sun, for instance, we know to be
95 millions of miles removed from us, therefore if
it revolved about the earth day after day, the dia-
meter of the orbit 1t would describe being no less
than 190 millions of miles, the length of the entire
distance it would have to travel from noon to
- noon again would be more than thrice that extent, or
as much as 595 millions of miles; consequently, to
complete such a circuit in the course of 24 hours, it
must move, at the very least, at the rate of 24 millions
of miles every hour. Whereas, in the case of some of
the fixed stars, whose distances have been found to
be upwards of 650 thousand times our own distance
from the sun,* they would have to move at the
enormous rate of about 4000 millions of miles per
* The above is the measurement of Bessel, from the parallex
7 of the star in the beak of ‘‘the Swan,†which is the constellation
at the fork of the Milky Way.
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 356
second in order to travel round the earth once every
24 hours. If, however, we suppose the earth to
turn round on its axis once in the same time, the
parts at the equator, where the motion would be
the most rapid, need move only at the rate of 1035
miles an hour, or 171 miles a minute ; and this not
only agrees with the facts observed respecting the
difference of gravity at the equator and the poles,*
and fully accounts for all the appearances of the
* The difference of gravity at the equator and the poles has
been shown, by accurate observations with the pendulum, to
amount to one 194th part of the entire weight of all bodies ; that
is to say, 194 Ibs at the equator would weigh 195 tbs at the poles.
Supposing the earth, however, to move round, the difference in
the weight of bodies arising from the different rates of motion at
the equator and the poles, should amount to only one 289th part
of the whole, that is to say 289 ibs at the equator should weigh
290 tbs at the poles. The observed loss of weight therefore is
one 590th part more than what should arise from the different
rates of motion. But the polar diameter of the earth is one
300th part shorter than the equatorial diameter; consequently
objects at the poles would be so much nearer the centre to which
all gravity tends. Now it is found by calculation that owing to
the flattened form of the earth, the attraction at the poles would
be exactly one 590th part more than at the equator ; and this,
with the increase of one 289th part arising from the slower rate
of motion there, makes up exactly the total increase of one
pound weight in every 194 tbs, which has been proved by observa.
tion to occur in all bodies going from the equator to the poles.
Therefore, as the loss of weight at the equator is made up of two
items, and one of these items exactly corresponds with the loss
that would ensue (owing to the parts travelling at a greater rate
fhere) were the earth in motion, we are thus furnished with a
convincing proof that it does move.
AAQ
356 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
heavens, but is the only supposition upon which we
can explain the movements of the sun and moon
as well:as those of the planets among the conste}-
lations.†|
“ But what are the movements you speak of, sir?â€
asked the boy; “and how do they prove that the
earth really moves, and not the stars?â€
“Well, youngster,†replied the Captain, “if all
the heavenly bodies invariably preserved the same
place among one another ; that is to say, if, like the
landmarks on the earth, they always kept exactly
the same distances and bearings, perhaps then we
might come to the conclusion that the earth was
at rest in the centre of the universe, with a hollow
crystalline sphere rotating about it, and carrying
the sun, moon and stars, somehow or other, along
with it round the globe day after day. But if all
the heavenly bodies do noé continually preserve the
same places among one another; and if some of
them appear to move in a contrary direction to the
general course, so that while the rest are being
borne forward day after day, from east to west, these
appear to be constantly changing their places
with respect to the others, and to travel among
them in a backward or westward direction, we must
at once abandon the supposition of a solid sky
carrying the heavenly bodies round with it, and
admit that some of the orbs above us have move.
ments peculiar to themselves.â€
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 357
“ Are there, then, any heavenly bodies, as you say, .
moving the contrary way to the others, Captain
Jones?†inquired Owen.
“Yes, boy,†added the old man. “Some.of.the
most conspicuous of them are continually changing
their places amongst the rest. The fied. stars, as
they are called, are so named simply. because. they
always appear to maintain the same position with
respect to each other, and to form ‘now-a-days
precisely the same figures with those near them as
history tells us they did centuries ago,.. But, besides
those, there is a class of heavenly bodies termed
‘planets, or wandering stars, which for the most part
appear to the naked eye only as the largest and most
brilliant stars; now these, iftheir placesamong the other
stars be noted and pricked on a chart of the heavens
from time to time, will be found to make, like the
sun and moon, a complete tour of the. constellations
in different periods ; and to do this tooin the contrary
direction to the apparent daily movement of the
entire firmament, so that while being carried forward
like the rest from east to west, they appear to move
also backwards, from west to east, among the others,
returning after a longer or shorter interval to the
same part of the heavens as they previously set out
from. Now, it is from their continual change of
place in the heavens, that these bodies have. been
denominated, in contradistinction to the fixed stars,
the erratic stars, or wanderers; for that is the literal
358 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
meaning of the Greek word which they derive their
name of ‘ planet’ from.â€*
“Oh! then there are wandering stars as well as:
fixed stars in the heavens,†interposed the lad.
“But how am [I to tell a planet from a fixed star,
when I see one, Captain Jones?â€
“Why, my boy,†returned the Captain, “a planet
doesn’t appear to twinkle as the fixed stars do.
We can’t talk though about the planets now. But
as I was saying, these planets have a movement
proper or peculiar to themselves, and not only they
but the sun and moon also. With the moon,
indecd, the change of place is so rapid and re-
markable, that her alteration of position, with
respect to such bright stars as happen to be near
her, may be noticed any fine night in a few hours;
and if her position among the constellations be
observed on two nights following, her different
situation among them cannot fail to be immediately
evident to us. Again, the sun’s apparent backward
motion in the heavens is constant and rapid, though,
owing to the stars being invisible to the naked eye
in the daytime, this is not so readily perceived, but
requires a telescope to be used, and the observations
to be continued for a longer time, in order that it
may be detected. If, however, we bear in mind that
the sun’s altitude at noon-day in summer is greater
——
* xhavyrne, a wanderer.
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 359
than at noon-day in winter, and that the stars
which are visible to us at night vary with the
season of the year, we shall be convinced that a
great change must be continually going on with
respect to the sun’s place among the constellations.â€
“ But sir,†again interposed the boy, “I can’t
make out how you can tell that the sun and moon
and planets go backwards as well as forwards
every day. I can’t make out how the earth turn-
ing round can make them appear to go two dif-
ferent ways at once. I understand quite well that
if we fancy the earth to move from west to east, it
will account for the stars seeming to go the contrary
way. But, if that’s the case, how can the motion
of the earth make the sun appear to move in two
different directions at the same time ?â€
“Why, lad,†responded the sailor, “ you must bear
in mind that the earth not only turns round on its
axis like your peg-top when it’s spinning, but it
moves round the sun as well, just in the same
manner as your top sometimes does when it
describes a circle as it skims over the ground.
Now the two motions of the earth—its daily motion
round its axis, and its yearly motion round the sun
—are both performed in the same direction—viz.,
from west to east, or contrary to the way the hands
of a clock move; so that wlien the earth igs at any
one part of the ecliptic, the sun will appear to be
360 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
in the opposite part of it, and while the earth is
travelling in one direction through the one-half of
the circle, the sun will appear to be journeying the
contrary way through the other half, just in the same
manner as the trees in the wood appeared to go
backwards as you went forwards. But since the
earth in passing along opposite halves of the circle
must itself travel in opposite directions, going along
one half from left to right, and along the other
from right to left, the sun will consequently appear
to travel round the ecliptic in the same direction as
the earth itself.†:
~~ But it’s very strange isn’t it, sir,†remarked the
lad,. “that the sun should appear to travel the same
way as the earth round the heavens every year, while
he seems every day to be going the opposite way?†—
“Now, you run into the back room and bring
me that big atlas,†said the old man; “and thereT’ Il:
show you.the line of stars that the sun appears to.
tr avel through every year. You'll understand the
matter much better then.†|
The little fellow soon reappeared carrying the
huge volume. on top of his head—for it was too
large to.put under his arm—and having placed it
on the table, the old man wheeled his chair up.to. .
it and. turned to the plate he had mentioned, of
which a representation is here annexed. _ | )
| « Oh! how beautiful!†cried Owen, directly the |
book was opened. “ Why there are all kinds of
f
S a pair o
and there’
a eae ee ee
Pp Foose ba i Ta
CORE ieee
am a ar) +
’
°
“>
ees cater eee
pana eae ees Beit get
‘ er
“ZODIA
3
goes.
aes
04
=)
©
en)
Z
<
Nn
ea
J
=
2
“1
m
—
@
i
ee
<4
beasts and fishes and men
scales, I declare.
362 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
“Yes, my boy,†smiled the Captain,“ they are
the figures the old shepherd-astronomers fancied the
different groups of stars to resemble. This line
with the degrees marked along it, and going right
through the figures, is the ‘ecliptic, or the path
that the sun appears to take every year through
the constellations. Only one half of this belt ot
stars 1s visible at the same time, and in 12 hours
afterwards the other half comes into view. The
brightest of the constellations lie between ‘the
Bull’ and ‘the Scorpion. In the neck of ‘the
Bull’ may be seen ‘the Pleiades,’ or ‘Seven Sisters,’
while in his head is a star of the ‘ first magnitude,’
called ‘Aldebaran.â€* In the head, too, of one of
‘the Twins,’ is another of the brightest stars, termed
‘Castor.’
gulus, appears in the forepart of the body of ‘the
Lion ; and a fourth, styled ‘Spica,’ is visible in ‘the
Virgin’—at the ear of corn she holds; while a fifth
denominated ‘ Antares,’ may be observed in the body
of ‘the Scorpion.’ Now, you must imagine the ecliptic,
or circle drawn through the stars here, to be 596
million miles round, and 190 million miles across,
* In the head of the Bull the Hyades—a cluster of seven
stars, not so close together as the Plecades—may be seen. Of
these Aldebaran is the name of the principal star, as Alcyon is
the name of the brightest star in the Pleiades. Aldebaran is much
larger than Alcyon, being of the first magnitude, while the cther
is only of the third.
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 363
with the sun in the centre, and the earth, at any
point of the circle to be 95 millions away from
him, and travelling round the sun once in the course
of the year.â€
“And that circle, you say, sir, 1s 596 million
miles round!†cried the boy, in utter bewilderment
at the figures. “ Zhat must be a long way, indeed,
for a million is a great number, I know.â€
“Yes, Owen,†returned his tutor; “it’s such a
number, that supposing you were to set to work to
reckon it up one by one, and to go on as fast as the
clock ticks, day after day without any sleep, it
would take you very nearly 19 years before you
were able even to count the number of miles that
the earth travels round the sun yearly.â€
“Indeed! indeed!†exclaimed the lad. “ And the
earth goes all that number of miles in one year?â€
“Yes,†replied the Captain. “But while the
earth is doing this, it seems to stand still, and the
sun, Owen, appears to make the tour of the constel-
lations you see here in the direction of the arrows,
travelling round them from west to east in the
course of the year; so that, the circle being divided
into 360 parts, he appears to do rather less than one
degree a day; or, since each of the constellations
consists of 30 degrees, he passes from one group of
stars to the next every month. Now, lad, to make
you understand how it is that the sun appears to
travel round these stars every year in the contrary
364 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
direction to that which he appears to travel round
our globe every day, let us suppose the earth to be
at the sign of ‘the Bull,’ then, of course, the sun
- would be seen by us in the direction of the dotted
line, appearing as if he was. at the sign of ‘the
Scorpion.’. Bnt the earth travelling onward in the
direction of the arrow would, in the course of time,
reach the sign of ‘the Crab,’ when the sun would
appear in the direction of the other dotted line over
against the sign of ‘the Goat’; so that while the earth
was travelling in one direction along one half of the
ecliptic, the sun would appear to move in the
opposite direction along the opposite half. When,
however, the earth reaches the sign of ‘ the Scorpion,’
the sun will seem to be in the sign of ‘the Bull’ ; and
when the earth is at the sign of ‘the Goat,’ the sun,
on the other hand, will seem to be at the sign of ‘the
Crab,’ so that at this period the earth will be travel-
ling in the apparent. direction of the sun at the
former period of the year, while the sun on the
other hand will appear to move in the former direc-
tion of the earth ; consequently, the sun’s apparent
motion round the ecliptic every year will be from west
to east, or the same way as the earth travels round
it, while his apparent daily motion will be from east
to west, or contrary to the way the earth revolves on
its axis: And. now, Master Owen, you are not the
sharp little fellow I take you for, if this matter isn’t
as plain to you as the mountain yonder.â€
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. 363
“Qh! that it is, Captain Jones,†cried the boy;
“and whenever I look at the stars, I am sure I shall
think of all you have said to me about them, and
thank you for it too.†|
“Well, lad,†added the Captain, “T’ve told you all
about the earth now. You know how to measure
it—how to tell where you are upon it—and how it’s
proved to be turning round and round on its axis
at the rate of a thousand and odd miles an hour,
though it appears to be standing still with us.â€
“ But is it moving so quick as that, if you please,
sir?†said the boy, still eager for fresh wonders.
“To be sure it is, at the equator,†answered the
Captain ; “for didn’t I explain to you that the earth
had been found, by the most accurate measurement of
the length of the degrees of latitude in different coun-
tries, to be exactly 7925 miles across the equator, and
if it is that number of miles across there, it must be
exactly 24,899 round. Then, again, if it’s so many
miles round at the equator, and revolves once
every 24 hours, a common rule of three sum will
tell us how fast it must go every hour; and thus
we find. that all things upon the surface of the earth
at the equator must be travelling round and round
at the rate of 1035 miles an hour at the least.â€
“ Dear! dear! 1035 miles an hour!†echoed the
lad; “and that’s much, much quicker than the
railway train goes, isn’t it, sir?â€
“Why, yes,†smiled the sailor, “it would take
— 366 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE OF
the quickest train—and that’s the express, which
travels at the rate, generally, of 40 miles in the
hour—just one day to go as far as a tree, or a house,
or a man does at the equator in one hour, and that
even while they appear to stand still.â€
“ And what rate are we travelling at in this room
if you please, sir?†inquired the delighted boy.
“Well, you see,†returned the old man, “the
earth is spinning round on its poles like, as I said
before, a huge peg-top leaning over on one side, and
the parts where it’s biggest round travel quickest, ot
course ; while the rate of motion in all other places is
according to their distance from the axis, or line
connecting the point on which it turns. Now, as
the equator is very nearly twice as far as we are
irom this same line running right down from one
pole to the other, why it is plain that the parts of
the earth there must travel very nearly twice as
fast as they do here: so, as they are going at the
rate of 1000 and odd miles an hour, we can be
doing only about 580 miles in the same time.â€
“ Only 580 miles an hour!†cried Owen, in utter
astonishment at the fact; “and yet we seem to be
sitting quite still here, sir, with the room and every-
thing about us all steady too.â€
“Yes, as still and steady,†added the Captain,
“fas if you were in the cabin of a large vessel, Owen.
And what is the earth, lad, as I said before, but the
‘good ship we’re sailing in through the universe—
A THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR. . 367
bound round the sun,—and going along so smoothly
on her course that, as we sit here in one of the
‘berths,’ we are unconscious of there being any
‘way at all upon the. vessel. On deck too, out in
the open air, it’s all the same so long as we keep
our eyes on the parts of the ship itself; but imme-
diately we look over the sides—and the horizon is
but the gun’ale of our vessel—we see the blue tide
of the great ocean around us go drifting by the
ship, and sparkling with its million stars as the
waters of the sea itself sparkle at night between
the tropics.â€
“And is 580 miles an hour much swifter than
anything goes in moving from one part of the earth
to another?†inquired Owen, anxious to come at some
more definite notion as to the rate he was being
continually carried along. |
“Jn a violent storm,†responded the sailor, “the
wind is reckoned to travel about 70 miles an hour;
so you see the earth in these parts goes 8 times as fast
as a gale of wind; but a cannon ball, at its greatest
speed, flies at the rate of 480 miles an hour through
the air;. therefore you and I, and everything about
us here, are constantly travelling through space
nearly one fourth quicker than if we had been shot
from the mouth of a cannon.â€
“ Oh, goodness!†ejaculated the little fellow, “it’s
enough to take our breath away, Captain J ones,
isn’t it!—Aif we only felt it.â€
263 TRAVELLING AT THE RATE, ETC.
“But this is nothing at all, boy,†proceeded the
sailor, ‘compared with the rate the earth travels
round the sun every year; for, you remember, I told
you before, that the length round the earth's orbit
-——-that-is its course round the sun—is 596 millions
of miles, and as the earth does this in the course of
twelvemonths, you would find, if you calculated it,
that it must be flying through space at the rate of
rather more than 68,000 miles an hour, which isabout
1000 and odd miles a minute. So you see the
earth travels. round the sun more than 60 times as
quick as the surface at the equator travels round
the earth’s axis.†|
“More than a thousand miles a minute?’ mused
the wonder-stricken lad.
Owen’s astonishment, however, was cut short bv
the Captain exclaiming, “ But here’s the dinner!†as
the housekeeper entered to lay the tablecloth.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS.
On his return home from the Captain’s, Owen
heard that his father had at length obtained a
situation for him. Davy Evans had been over to
Builth market that day, and having learnt there
that farmer Powell on the Hills was in want ofa lad
to tend his sheep, he had agreed with the farmer that
Owen should go to him upon trial.
The boy could think of little else that night ; for,
much as he wanted to be at work, now that the
moment had come for him to leave home, for the
first time in his life, the little fellow could hardly
bear the thoughts of parting with all he knew and
loved, and taking up his abode at a strange place,
with strange faces about him; so he remained
awake, wondering what kind of people “the Powellsâ€
were, and how often he would be allowed to go
home, and whether the farmer was a kind man or
not, and what would become of little Peggy and old ©
Jack when he had gone. There would be no one
BB
870 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS,
then, he thought to himself, to keep the boys on the
common from throwing stones at the donkey, and no
one to gather cob-nuts for his sister’s squirrel, or
to collect fresh moss for its bed. As the boy ran
over all his sorrows at leaving home, his pillow
grew wet with his tears, and the stars shone in at
his window unheeded by him ; for it was late in the
night before he had wept himself to sleep.
As soon as Owen heard old Jack’s bray at the
kitchen door the next morning, he hurried down,
and began telling the pet brute all his grief, as if
it could understand and sympathize with him.
“So, my poor Jacky,†cried the boy, as he took
out to the animal a thick slice of bread and butter,
well browned on the top with sugar, “you're going
to lose your best friend, you are. Who'll put you
your nice clean straw and houze you when the cold
nights come, old fellow? Ah! Jack, you’ll be
left out on the common with the snow on the
ground when I’m gone; for Hugh doesn’t care a
bit about you, as Ido. But I'll speak to father, and
ask him to think of you when the frost is very sharp
and the wind’s so keen it’s like to blind oneasit blows
across the hills; though you’re a knowing fellow
enough to go under a hedge, if they do forget you.
Then your coat, which I’ve got so clean and smooth
how, will be left to go all wild, and I shall come
back and find it as ragged as a beggar’s, and all fuil
of thistle-heads, I knew ; for father, you see, Jack,
TILE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS. 71
has something else to do than to curry-comb you
every day ; so you'll have to look after yourself then,
old thing. But I tell you what, Jacky, if any of
those boys try to tie any furze-bushes to your tail, do
you kick out well behind, and that will frighten
them ; for they are only cowards that teaze gentle
old things like you. Peopie say you are obstinate,
and will do only as you like; but let us try to make
them go a way they don’t want, and see if they’re
not quite as stubborn as you are; and, would be
worse, I dare say, only they can’t suffer as you can.
Why, I remember, Jack, before I was big enough to
take care of you, the boys used to thrust spikes into
you, and yet you wouldn’t move a foot. Wouldn't
they have run, though, if any one had served them
the same way! Ah! you’rea brave old thing, you
are, and can bear pain without flinching, and mak-
ing a noise about it, as wedo. I never thought I
loved you, Jack, as much as I do; and I shall miss
you—perhaps more than you will me—when I’m
away.’ And as he said so, the boy threw his arms
about the creature’s neck, and hugged him to him,
while the fond animal rubbed his head against
Owen's side as if he really understood all that had
been said to him.
“Oh! Jack, Jack, I wish I could take you with
me,†cried the little fellow ; “for I’m going to a farm
house, and youd get plenty of beans and corn there ;
for I'm sure you must be tired of that grass on the
BB Z
$72 THE SHEPHERD-BCY AND THE STARS.
common by this time. But, never mind, old pet;
when I come home, I'll always bring you a pocket
full of nice things, and then wont you be pleased
to see me. But I must go now, Jacky ; I’ve got
my bundle of things to make up. I shall see you on
the common as I go by, and be able to give you
9
a last hug.†And the boy squeezed the pet brute
to him once more, the tears starting to his eyes the
while.
Then suddenly turning from the animal, Owen
slosed the hatch, and proceeded to take a parting
glance at his other pet, the squirrel.
Opening the door of the cage, he let the pretty
little thing loose into the room, and seated him-
self in a chair while he watched the tiny creature
run up his legs to get the nut. he held out for it.
As the squirrel sat upright on the boy’s knee, hold-
ing the nut between its paws, and nibbling away
the rind till the kernel was white and round as a
little billiard ball, Owen chattered to it as he
had previously done to Jack. “Ah! Skuggy,
what will become of you, too, when I’m gone?
Who'll give you your milk of a morning, sir; and
who'll fill your cage with fresh moss; who’ll give you
nice bits of twig to gnaw, too, and watch you, as you
peel the bark off, hold them up to your mouth, for
all the world as if you were playing the flute? And
who'll be here, then, Skuggy, to stop wicked little
Peggy pulling your bed about, and making you angry,
ZHE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS. O73
for you can’t bear any one to touch your moss, can you, |
little darling? But she likes to do it, to make Skuggy
bark, and see him thrust his pretty little pink nose
up to the bars. When I’m gone, too, Skug, you'll
have no more balls of string to play with, and to pat
from one side of the room to the other, like a little
kitten, as you do; and if you nibble the things
then, there will be nobody to take your part; and
nobody, too, Skuggums, to tie your cage up to the
window in the sun, so as you may sniff the nice
fresh air every day ; nor to whistle pretty tunes to
you, and to watch you shake your bushy tail
with delight at the music. No, poor Skug, you
must shift for yourself when I’m away. You
wont get a fresh bed then every week, as you
do now ; and you'll not he able to scratch away at
the moss till you get it over your head, and make
a ball of it all round you, you knowing little
monkey. Ah! you’re as pretty a fellow as ever
_ Skipped in the woods,†went on the boy, as he
rolled the squirrel over, and played with it in his
lap, “with your little white stomach, there, like a
clean pinafore before you. I’ll bring him some nice
big nuts and some pears to nibble at, every time T
come home, that I will; and then he wont forget
his old friend, will he, little beauty ?â€
But Owen’s leave-taking with the squirrel was
suddenly cut short by Davy Evans reminding the
boy that it was nearly time for them to start,
874 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS.
Accordingly, the lad hastened to prepare his little
bundle. While stowing his clothes away in the
handkerchief, he looked up at the clock he had
made, and, as he heard it tick against the wall, his
eyes filled again with tears as he thought he was
about to leave everythin g that was endeared to him
for a place to which he was an utter stranger.
At length the hour for departure arrived, and
Owen felt as you and I felt, lad, when we were of his
age, that to leave for the first time the place with
which all our affections were linked, was to make
the world seem void and blank to us.
As he kissed his little sister Peggy, over and
over again, the boy sobbed aloud. On meeting with
old Jack, too, on the common, he hung upon the
animal’s neck, and pressed him to him, as though he
was parting with him for ever ; and when he and
his father were fairly on their way, the road
seemed to fly along as quickly as when we
were in the coach returning to school after the
holidays.
Davy tried to engage the little fellow in conversa-
tion by touching upon all the subjects that he knew
were interesting to him, now asking him about what
Captain Jones had told him concerning the earth
—now talking to him about clocks, and then about
levers and wheels and axles; but all to no purpose,
for the boy’s heart was too full to speak of things
unconnected with his home; so giving the briefest
TIIE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS. 375
answers to his father’s questions, he would imme-
diately afterwards beg of him to look to old Jack
of a winter’s night, and to kiss Peggy for him, or
else he would request him to go to Parson Wynn’s,
and tell them all there how suddenly he had been
called away, and not to forget to see Captain
Jones—for the old gentleman had been very kind
to him,—and to thank him for the many things he
had taught him.
Davy, noticing the boy’s emotion, and himself
half dreading the struggle at parting, told Owen
that if he was a good lad, and would refrain from
crying on his quitting him, he would buy him a
box of tools next time he went to Brecon, and then
he could make for himself any models he wanted.
Thus the journey passed, and the couple at
length reached the farm-house ere Owen thought
they had got half way there. And when the
moment arrived for Owen to part from the last
and dearest link that bound him with home, though
the little fellow bit his lips to stifle his tears for
some time, he was at length unable to bear up
against it; so flinging himself on his father’s neck, he
sobbed outright with an intensity of grief that it is
the lot of few of us in after life to feel. Nor was
Davy himself unaflected by the boy’s emotion, for
as Owen curled his arms about his neck, and -pressed
his father to him, the tear drops might have been
trickling down the old man’s cheeks.
376 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS,
At length Davy Evans took his leave, and Owen
stood at the gate on the hill, with his eyes dimmed
with grief, watching his father’s form grow fainter
and fainter in the distance, till he lost sight of him
altogether at the bend of the road, and then the
little fellow felt his heart sink in his bosom, asif he
were alone and unprotected in the world.
In a few days, however, the strangeness of the
new home had worn off, and Owen got to find that
the people whom he had come among were simple,
kindly-hearted folk, who, in the primitive life they
led, looked upon all about them as part of their
own family. |
The farm itself lay high on the mountains be-
tween Brecon and the Wye, and was some miles
removed from any other habitation, so that the
petty prides and distinctions of towns had not yet
ruffled the peace of that humble homestead. The
wife and daughter still wore linsey-woolsey, and
broad-brimmed hats with large frilled caps be-
neath them, and stout leathern boots, instead of kid
shoes and sandals. They were skilled in the manu-
facture of cheese and butter, and the curing of
hams, and the brewing of ale—or “ cwrw,†as it was
called in those parts,— while only the younger
branches of the family, that attended the Sunday-
school at the mountain church, could write their
names, and that not very legibly. The dame her-
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS. 377
self could speak no English. The old man, however,
from his continual attendance at the neighbouring
markets and fairs, had picked up sufficient of the
language to bargain with the dealers; though, like
the generality of the country people in those parts,
he made sad havoc with the genders and numbers
when he attempted to talk “Saisnich,†speaking of
every male individual as her, and prefixing the
singular article to all plural substances,—as, @
trowsers, a gaiters, a braces, a shears, a snuffers,
and a tongs.
Owen, with his little knowledge, soon became a
small prodigy among the family; and when he com-
municated to them all he knew about levers and
clocks, and told them what he had learnt from
Captain Jones about the earth and the heavens,
they grew to look upon the boy as somebody
superior to themselves ; so that the girls and the old
farmer would like to get him in one corner of the
settle of an evening, and listen to the boy as he-
talked to them about the stars, and told them how
the earth was known to be round, and the many
thousand miles it was through, and the wonderful
rate at which it was travelling every hour. Nor
was the old farmer himself the least delighted of the
company.
At length Owen grew accustomed to his new
home, and his mind being led back by his evening's
O18 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND TIIE STARS.
talk about the stars to the lessons he had learnt of
the old sailor, he got, as the nights drew in and
he saw the little specks of light twinkling above
him as he folded the sheep, to notice more and
more their places among one another, and to stay
cut later and later in the fields, gazing at the
heavens, and wondering what the stars would be
like if he could fly away to them? and what could
be the use of them? and how far they were off ?—
and indulging in a number of like simple specula-
tions.
Verily too the firmament, as viewed in the stillness
of night from the mountain tops in those parts, was
a sight to stir the dullest mind to admiration !
There the sky could be seen resting, as it were, on
the shadowy earth, and arching above it like the dim
dome of some huge temple, and blue and unfathom-
able as the sea far away from land. Then as the eye
vainly sought to plumb the depths of the vast aérial
ocean, star after star came twinkling forth like a
mass of crystal points sparkling in the light, as
if the bed of the celestial sea were strewn with
gems as thick as sand. Jn some parts, however, the
eye rested on one star shining by itself like a dew-
drop in a violet; in other parts appeared a cluster
of many little ones, flittering in the darkness like a
knot of fire-flies. Here were some set in the forms
of glittering squares; there others ranged as bril-
liant triangles; and there some in circles, like jewels
THE SHEPITERD-BOY AND THE STARS, o79
round a crown; while in places might be seen a
long line of light drops sparkling like water dripping
from a fountain in the sun; so that the whole face
of the heavens seemed powdered over with the in-
finite fairy forms of frost work. Then there was
the broad luminous band streaming through the
heavens like spray from the starry ocean and
strewn so thick with its million orbs that the
stars there were more like the silver dust from a
butterfly’s wing than an infinity of suns set round the
girdle of the universe, with their beams so blended
together that they seemed as if they were a wreath
of phosphorescent mist floating across the heavens.
As the boy lay out on the hills watching the
splendour of the firmament, his eye was at first
bewildered by the multiplicity of sparkling points,
and he could hardly distinguish form or difference
among them. ‘The lines they formed together
seemed to be like a tangled skein to him, and
he could no more pick out one from another than
he could have recognised each particular grain in a
sand-heap. All Owen knew as yet, was the figure
of the Great Bear, and he delighted to run his eye
from the two stars on one side of the square form-
ing its body up to the little Pole-star. Then he
would sit and look at this, thinking it was one of
the ends of the universe, and wondering what he
would see beyond it if he could only get up there,
and what the earth would look like from that point.
380 TILE SHEPHFRD-BOY AND THE STARS.
When he had grown tired of such speculations,
Owen would try to make out the form of the
Little Bear itself, and though at first he could see
only two bright stars, he found, as he looked on,
others peeped out one after another, till at last
he could distinctly perceive the whole seven shim-
mering through the darkness, and forming a similar
figure, but reversed, to that of the Greater Bear itself.
When the shepherd-boy had unravelled thus
much of the tangled web, he began to notice other
forms in the heavens, and to perceive that the
stars differed considerably in their sizes. As he
ran his eyes along in a line with the two last stars
in the tail of the Great Bear, he saw a very bright
one, shining almost alone; and he wondered over |
and over again what name there could be for that.*
TN a
* Tt is called Arcturus which, literally interpreted, signi- |
fies ‘‘the Bear’s tail†(from apxrog a bear and ovpa a tail).
This star is one of the first magnitude, and may always be found
by continuing the eye in a line with the two last stars in the tail
of the Great Bear. In former times it was probably regarded asa
part of the tail itself (its name at least would seem to indicate as
much), but at present it is considered as being in the skirt of the
eoat of Bodtes, the husbandman—a constellation that was called
by the Greeks Arctophylax, the bear-keeper (from apxroc a
bear and @vAag& a keeper), The name Bodtes (Gowrne, an
oxherd) was given to this constellation because he was sup-
posed to be the driver of the Plowgh—which is another name
for the Great Bear, and the form of the seven principal stars
in it certainly resemble the figure of a plough more than
that of a bear. However, according as the one form or the
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS, 3881
Then he tried to make out the shape of the smaller
stars near this one, so as to see whether he could trace
any resemblance in them to the form of any animal
—but to no purpose; for the stars there seemed to
go all kinds of ways to him, Accordingly, he shifted
other presented itself to the minds of the early astronomers, so
were the different names bestowed. Those to whom the seven stars
appeared like a Plough, gave the title of Bodtes, or the Plough-
man, to the constellation next to it; while those who fancied
these seven stars to resemble a Bear, christened the adjacent
constellation Arctophylax, or the Bear-keeper. Fable relates
that Ceres, as the reward of Philomelus for the invention of the
art of ploughing, transferred him and his oxen to the heavens
under the name of Bodies. According to some, the Great Bear is
Calisto, an attendant of Diana (the moon, and in fable the twin
sister of Apollo, the sun) who was considered the goddess of hunte
ing, probably from such expeditions having been first carried on
during the night. Calisto was termed an attendant of Diana,
doubtlessly because the constellation of the Great Bear is one that
never sets in the northern hemisphere. It seems probable that
Calisto was also the original of Acteon, who, according to the
ancient myth, was changed into a stag, and torn to pieces by
dogs, for discovering Diana bathing. The astronomic explana-
tion of this would be, that the moon was shining on the water
whilst the constellation Calisto was, as usual, above the horizon—
that this constellation was afterwards changed into a Bear, or
some such animal—and that the Bear was continually pursued by
the Canes Venatict, or hunting dogs, which is the next con-
stellation, to the east of it, and which consequently appears to
be always following the other. The same seven stars which are
called the Great Bear by some, and the Plough by others,
are also termed Charles’ Wain (or wagon) by many. The
four stars being supposed to represent the four wheels of the
vehicle, and the three other stars extending from these to be the
horses, This accounts for the name of Auriga (the wagoner)
being given to another constellation close to the Wain.
882 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS.
his eye from this to the opposite quarter of the
heavens, and on the other side of the Milky Way he
beheld another set of seven stars, all of the same
size as the brighter ones in the Great Bear, and
forming almost the same figure among themselves,
There was the same kind of square, and three stars
extending in like manner from one corner of it,
but in an opposite direction to those in the tail of
the Great Bear, and at greater distances apart, while
the square itself was larger.*
The boy was greatly delighted to find that he
* This square consists of four stars of the second magnitude,
three in the body of the constellation Pegasus, and one in the
head of the constellation Andromeda. It may be found by
looking to that side of the Milky Way which is directly oppositeto
the one on which the Great Bear isseen. Then if the tail of the
Great Bear be pointing downwards to the North, run the eye
from the corner of the square in the constellation Pegasus nearest
the Milky Way up towards the south, and three other bright
stars will be seen extending from this point—two between it
and the Milky Way, and the third in the Milky Way itself.
The two stars lying between the corner of the square and the
Milky Way, are in the constellation Andromeda, and the third,
(which appears in the Milky Way itself), is situated in the con-
stellation Perseus. According to the Grecian fable, Pegasus
sprang from the drops of blood which fell from the head of the
Gorgon Medusa after Perseus had decapitated her. Hence all
these constellations are found to be connected in the heavens.
Meduso’s Head is near Perseus, whois situate in the Milky Way
while Medusa is on one side of it, towards Pegasus. It is fabled
that the Gorgons—of whom Medusa was the chief— had but one
eye, and in Medusa’s head there is one bright star of the second
magnitude, called Algol. The bright stars in the body of
Pegasus are known by thenamesof Scheat, Markab, and Algenib.
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS, 383
could reduce some of the vast crowd of stars into
definite order, so as to he able to recognise them on
looking again to the same part of the heavens.
“Qh! I see,†cried the little fellow, as he sat on
arock at the hill-top, “it’s very difficult at first ;
but after a time I shall get to know them all; for
I notice that the stars seem to be crowded thicker
and thicker together as they get nearer to the
Milky Way. Over by the Great Bear, there appear
to be but few large ones, and as I run my eyes along
the bright band, I can see them sparkling away in
it and on each side of it, as thick as bees about a
hive. Look, too!†went on the boy, “the Milky
Way seems to cut the heavens in two, and to come
up from one side of the horizon, and to stretch
right across to the other, where it opens, and has
two branches to it, like the top of the letter Y.*
Now, I'll go right along the Milky Way, and notice
all the bright stars I can find in it and on each
side of it, beginning at the end where it is divided
into two streams. Well, first I see, as I run my
eye up along one of the branches, three stars, with
a bright one in the middle, and these are just on
one side of the branch that is farthest from the
* The two branches of the Milky Way are never seen towards
the north by us. They generally rise towards the east and set
towards the west. They should mostly be looked for towards the
south. Occasionally, however, they are not visible, being below
the horizon,
28 4 THE SUEPITERD-BOY. AND THE STARS.
Great Bear, but a good bit below where the two
streams meet.* J shall know those again, I am
sure,†continued the boy, musing to himself. “Then,
as I go on and get closer to the fork of the Milky
Way, I can see one—two—three—yes, five stars in
the form of a cross-bow, with a bright one at the
head of the bow.t These stars are in the branch of
the Milky Way nearest the Great Bear. And
look,†he cried, “just on one side of these, towards
_ the Bear itself, there’s a very large and bright star
—one of the brightest I’ve seen, indeed—with three
little ones close beside it, and the whole four are
* The bright star in the middle of these three is called
Altair, and is situated in the constellation of the Lagle. It
is of the first magnitude, and is never seen in the north by us;
rising nearly due east, and setting nearly due west, and appear-
ing, when in the south, almost as high above the southern
horizon as the Pole-star is above the northern.
++ These five stars are the principal ones in the constellation
of the Swan. The form which the boy fancies to resemble a
eross-bow, the ancient astronomers thought to be like a long-
necked bird flying with outstretched wings. One of these stars
—the farthest from the fork of the Milky Way, and which is
in the beak of the Swan—is celebrated as being the one of which
Bessel discovered the parallax—and the first fixed star whose
distance from the sun was accurately measured. The brightest
star of the five is near the tail of the Swan, and of the second
magnitude, whereas that in the beak is of the third. This con-
stellation may easily be found by looking at one of the branches
near the fork of the Milky Way, when three bright stars will be
noticed directly in a line with the Milky Way itself, and wwa
others reaching across it from one branch to the other.
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS. 385
arranged something in the form ofa harp.* Then,
as I go on and get close to the point where the twe
streams run into one, I can see again three stars, not
quite in a line with one another ; and these are be-
tween the Great Bear and the Milky Way.t Oh! it
isn’t so very difficult after all, I see, to tell the stars
when you set about the work properly. Now, as I go
past the point where the two streams of the Milky
Way are joined into one, I can see at a little distance
beyond it a cluster of stars arranged, I do declare,
in the form of a chair, with a bright one at the
back ; and these stars are nearly all in the Milky
Way itself; while the chair seems as if it was
placed across it.f Next, as I go on along the
* This bright star is known by thename Vega, and is one of the
most beautiful in our hemisphere. The constellation in which it
is situate is called ‘* the Lyre,†though it is more like the form
of an ancient Welsh harp than the horse-shoe shape which we
connect with the more classic instrument. The three other
stars in this constellation are of the third magnitude. Vega
may be easily discovered on directing the eye a little beyond the
fork of the Milky Way, and looking a short distance on one side
of the branch nearest the Great Bear. The constellation of the
Lyre is beside that of the Swan, and between it and the Bear,
go the one being found will lead to the other.
+ These three are in the constellation Cepheus. They are all
of the third magnitude, and lie nearly midway between the
square of the Great Bear and that of Pegasus, being on the side
of the Milky Way nearest the Bear. They never set, and must
be generally looked for towards the north. They are easily dis-
tinguished, from their being almost in a line with each other.
+ This constellation is knownas ‘‘ Cassiopwia’s chair.†The
cc
3S6 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS.
Milky Way, and get farther from the branches,
I can see a big star sparkling in the middle of it.
But that’s the last of the three I noticed before
projecting from the large square opposite to the
Great Bear. Going past this, I catch sight of a
very big bright one, as big as the one I saw.in the
harp ; but this star is a little distance out of the ©
Milky Way, on the side towards the Great Bear.
And, now L[ look again, the others about it take the
form of a hay-stack, with the top pointing towards
the Great Bear itself.* Oh! dear, how beautiful,â€
cried the delighted boy. “As I keep on running
my eye down the Milky Way, too, I can see two more
large bright stars, one as big as any I’ve seen, and
a little distance from the side, towards the Great
stars in it are mostly all of the third magnitude. Cassiopeia, it
will be remembered, was, according to the ancient fable, the
wife of King Cepheus and the mother of Andromeda, whose
husband was Perseus. Hence we find all these constellations
intimately connected in the heavens. On the side of the Milky
Way, nearest the Great Bear, is Cepheus; then at a little dis-
tance from this, and in the Milky Way itself, comes Cassiopzeia ;
while farther on in the Milky Way is Perseus, with Andromeda,
who is on the opposite side of the galaxy to Cepheus, and between
Cassiopeia and Perseus.
* This is the constellation of the Wagoner, or driver of the
Wain or wagon (the name sometimes given to the Great Bear).
The bright star is of the first magnitude, and known by the
name of Capeila. It is situate in the left shoulder of Auriga
{the wagoner). Thisstar is close to the side of the Milky Way,
towards the Bear, and has another star near it of the second
magnitude,
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS. S37
Bear; the stars near these seem to be arranged
in a figure something like the gable end of a house,
standing on the Milky Way itself, with a bright
star at one of the lower corners of it, and the two
other bright ones at the top forming the back of the
roof, as it were. Then, directly opposite these,
some little distance from the other side of the
Milky Way, there’s another big star, I declare,
with a number of little ones about it in the form of
the letter V, the big one being at top of one of the
prongs of the letter. I’m sure I should have taken
them for the Seven Sisters, Captain Jones told me
about, only they don’t seem close enough together.
Oh! no; there are the Seven Sisters, sparkling away
like a knot of little glow-worms in the dark. This
must be the Bull, then,†exclaimed Owen, after think-
ing awhile; “for I remember Captain Jones said
the ‘Seven Sisters, or Plei—, what did he call
them? Ah! ‘Pleiades,—that’s it—were in the
Bull’s neck. So the other group of little stars
must be what the Captain called ‘the Hyades.’
And the big star there at the top, on one of
the prongs of the V, must be the one he called
‘Aldebaran’. Yes, that it must! WDve found out
all this, by myself, too. Why, this must be the
ecliptic, then; and the sun, and moon, and planets
must all travel along near this line. I wish the
moon was up,†continued the little star-gazer ; for
then I could make sure whether I was right or not,
ao 2
398 THE SHEPUERD-BOY AND THE STARS.
Those stars, too, on the other side ot the Milky Way,
that seemed to be like the gable end of a house, must
really be the constellation of the Twins; for I
remember when Captain Jones showed me the map
of the Zodiac there were two bright stars, one in the
head of Castor, and the other in the neck of Pollux,
and a third in one of their feet. Yes, I’m right ;
T’m sure I am.â€
Owen turned to gaze at the Milky Way once
more, and as he looked a little below the bright
star in the foot of one of the Twins, his eye was
arrested by a very brilliant constellation close on the
other side of the galaxy, and consisting of four large
stars, arranged in the form of a square, with three
more, very near together, and placed in a slanting
direction in the middle of the others. Two of the
stars in the square were of the first magnitude,*
* This is the constellation Orton, and the two stars in it,
which are of the first magnitude, are known by the names of
Beltegeux, and kigel. Beltegeux is at the corner of the square
nearest the Milky Way, and Rigel at the cross corner farthest
from it. The three stars in the middle of the square con-
stitute ‘* Orvon’s Belt.†Orion never appears towards the north
with us. He rises as nearly as possible due east, and sets due
west, attaining but a slight elevation above the southern horizon.
The equinoctial line passes very nearly through the upper star in
the belt of Orion, and hence this star is almost on a level with
the equator of the earth, so that at its greatest altitude we can
estimate the height of the equator above the horizon in the same
manner as the height of the pole may be reckoned by the Pole-
star. When Orion comes to the meridian, the most brilliant of the
constellations are above the horizon, the Great Dog and the
Zion then becoming visikle. At this pericd weare said ic have
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS. 389
and all the others of the second ; so that the whole
appeared to Owen to be the most brilliant constel-
lation he had yet seen. “'Then on the other side of
the Milky Way, and opposite to the square with
the three slanting stars in the middle of it,†the
boy went on, “I can see two more stars, the first a
very bright one, and the second dimmer than the
other, arranged in a slanting line with one another,
and the brightest farthest away from the Great
Bear,â€* |
Delighted with the discoveries he had made, the.
little astronomer continued for some time glancing
from one constellation to another, so as to impress
their forms upon his mind; then he began count-
the most splendid view of the celestial bodies that the starry
firmament affords. The constellation Orion is of great anti-
quity, being frequently mentioned by the sacred writers. Job
alludes to it as follows :—‘‘ Hast thou an arm like God? or canst
thou thunder with a voice like Him? Gird up thy loins and
declare! Canst thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades,
or loose the bonds of Orton? Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth
in his season, or canst thou guide Arcturus with his sons?’
And again in the book of Amos (said to have been written by a
shepherd 800 years before the Christian era) there occurs the
following passage: ‘* Ye who turn judgment to wormwood, and
leave off righteousness in the earth, Seek Him that maketh the
Seven Stars and Orion, and turneth the shadow of death into
the morning, and maketh the day dark with night: that calleth
for the waters of the sea, and poureth them out upon the face of
the earth: The Lorp is his name.â€
* These are the principal stars in the constellation of the
Lntile Dog, which, according to the fable, formed one of the
beagles of Orion’s pack. The name of the large star in the
constellation is Procyon.
890 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS.
ing how many stars of the first magnitude he could
see; and, after some little trouble, he came to the
conclusion that there were only nine visible to him.*
Next, the boy wondered, as he watched some of the
* The stars of the first magnitude seen by the boy were as
follows:—l. Altair, in the Eagle; 2. Vega, in the Lyre;
3. Arcturus, 1n Bootes, the Shepherd; 4. Capella, in the
Wagoner; 5. Castor, in the Twins; 6. Aldebaran, in the eye of
the Bull; 7. and 8. Beltegeux and Rigel, in Orion; 9. Procyon,
in the Little Dog. But besides these, there are other stars of the
first magnitude, which become visible in the apparent revolution
of the heavens; these are, 10. Regulus, in the Lion; 11. Spica,
in the Virgin; 12. Antares, in the heart of the Scorpion; and
13. Sirius, in the Great Dog, commonly known as the Dog-star.
The two last attain but a slight elevation above the southern
horizon, towards which quarter they must always be looked for.
Sirius is the brightest of all the fixed stars that are visible to
us. Indeed, the Great Dog is one of the most splendid constella-
tions in the heavens, consisting of four stars of the second mag-
nitude, and one of the first, and arranged somewhat in the shape
of a truncated wedge standing up onend. The Great Dog is
fabled to have been one of Orion’s hounds. Some consider
Sirius to represent the dog worshipped by the Egyptians as the
god ‘‘Anubis,†and the Egyptians certainly believed the Nile to be
under the influence of this star, which is vertical on the 30th
June, when that river overflows. The dog-days are so called
because the great heat at this period is ascribed to the influence
of the dog-star, which rises with the sun during that time—viz.,
from the 25th of July till the 24th of August. According to
the data of Henderson, Sirius is sixty times more intrinsically
brilliant than our sun; that is to say, were the sun removed to
the same distance from us as the dog-star, 1t would appear sixty
times less bright than Sirius. The stars of the first magnitude
above mentioned, are many of them of different colours from the
others. For instance, Altair, Vega, Spica, and Strius are all
white stars (though Sirius was celebrated by the ancients as a
ved star); Aldebaran, Arcturus, and Belteyeux, on the other
hand, are red, while Capella and Procyon are yellow.
ee
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS, ool
stars set behind the western hills, and others rise
gradually into sight i the east, what fresh constel-
lations would come into view as the night went on.
So he determined to get up long before sun-rise
some morning, and see what other stars he could
distinguish then. After this, Owen noticed that
the stars in the north, as Captain Jones had told
him, only just grazed the horizon, and never sank |
below it, remaining always in sight; whereas,
those in the extreme south rose but a short height
above the horizon, and continued visible but for a
little time; while some that he had observed to
be rising in the east when he began noticing them
that evening, had since taken a slanting direction
towards the south, and were now high above the
southern horizon. The boy was greatly pleased to
find all the Captain had told him prove so truce;
and he sat for some time endeavouring to make out
the different circles that each of the stars described
in its apparent tour of the sky. It was late that
night before the little star-gazer reached the farm.
Owen could think of little else than the stars,
now that he had once begun to observe their figures
and their motions, and he longed to know more about
them. Accordingly as he sat out in the fields all day,
minding the flock, he busied himself with devising
some means of measuring the distances the orbs were
apart, so that he might be able to mark down the
figures they made with one another in the heavens, ~
894 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS.
This occupied the boy’s mind for some time, till
at length it struck him that by means of some
beads on a string he might be able to arrive at the
desired result. So after a few rude experiments on
the matter, he took some pieces of wood out with
him to the hills, and as he sat tending the sheep he
amused himself by fashioning them into an appa-
ratus for the purpose. This he formed something
atter the shape of the instrument used for counting,
called an “abacus ;†for there was a frame to it, across
which stretched a number of threads with beads to
shde along them, and some six inches in front of
these was placed an upright piece of wood with a
sight-hole at the upper part of it, in order that the
eye might be kept in the same position; so that
when the boy had put the whole together, it assumed
the form represented in the subjoined engraving.
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS, O99
The rude apparatus once finished, Owen betook
himself to the hills night after night, and there lay
stringing his beads on the threads till he got them
to arrange themselves in the form of the principal
stars in the constellations he had noticed. To do
this, however, cost the little shepherd astronomer
no slight trouble, for when he had shifted one of
the beads upon the string till it cut the largest star
in the group, and he came to slide along the other
beads, so that they should be in a line with the rest
of the stars, he often found that as he moved one
he displaced the others. But Owen, once bent
upon the purpose, was not to be beaten by a few
difficulties, so he tried on and on, until at length he
got to be able to arrange the beads near enough to
the forms of the stars to satisfy himself; and this
done, he proceeded to mark down roughly upon the
paper that he kept beside him, the figures of the
principal constellations, one after another, as he
measured them.
The boy had soon made sufficient progress in his
work of mapping down the heavens to be able to
show his “star-papers,†as he called them, to farmer
Powell, who was so astonished at the little fellow’s
labours, that he set him to some light work in the
barn, and put another lad to look after the sheep,
so that Owen might have time to copy out by day
the rough figures that he had sketched at night.
And often, when the little fellow was engaged
394 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS.
winnowing, the good old farmer would come to him
in the barn and turn the machine himself, while the
boy sat by his side drawing his plan of the stars,
and chattering to him the while about their move-
ments and sizes and figures; telling him too, that
Captain Jones said the fixed stars were millions and
millions of miles away from the earth, and how
they all appeared to be moving round one fixed
point, which was called the pole of the world; and
how, too, it was by measuring the altitude of that
point above .the horizon, that sailors were enabled
to find their way across the sea, where there was no
other mark to guide them. All this so amazed and
delighted the simple-minded farmer, that he would
creep away to the barn to do the boy’s work at
every opportunity. Nor did he fail to express his
admiration for the little fellow to his daughters,
declaring “that her was the most wonderful boy in
the world, and it was a shame such a scholard as
her was should be a shepherd, for her knowed more
than many an old man with a spectacles on her
nose.â€
Thus Owen grew to be an especial favourite at
the mountain farm, and often he was gravely con-
sulted as to whether he could not find out by the
stars where the colt had strayed, or where the hen
hid her eggs, or whether the Scotch tea-man had
really carried off the silver tea-spoon they had missed
last time her came round, and a host of such other
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS. 395
family mishaps. As the nights began to draw in
and to grow chilly, the girls too, when they found
Owen staying out late on the hills, would carry
him a blanket to wrap himself in and keep the
damp from “striking inwards,†as they termed it.
Sometimes, too, they would sit by his side wonder-
ing, as they watched him at his work, and get
him to tell them something about the brighter stars
that took their fancy for the moment.
One night, after the girls had left him, and the
little astronomer lay on one of the crags observing
the form of the stars in the constellation of Cassio-
peeia’s Chair, he was startled by a loud sound that
seemed to him like the noise old Jack used to
make as he and his father returned late at night
across the common at Llanvach. Immediately
Owen’s thoughts were turned from the stars to-
wards home and his favourite brute, and he won-
dered whether the poor thing was out in the cold
then—for the wind was blowing sharp across the
hills—and whether
The boy’s train of thought was suddenly inter-
rupted by the same sound bursting on his ear, and,
now that it was nearer, it was more like old Jack’s
bray than ever.
“Tt must be some poor brute that has gone
astray,†thought Owen; and the boy stood up to
look across the hills and see if he could distinguish
the form of any animal in the distance. But tha
396 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS.
earth was like a dark shadow, and he could make
out nothing but the black tops of the mountains
as here and there they rose like dark waves one above
the other. Then he put his ear down to the ground,
and listened whether he could catch the sound of
any hoofs pattering on the stones.
After a few minutes he started to his feet, crying,
“Yes! I can hear something coming across the
hills ;†so he peered once more into the darkness,
and tried with all his might, as he looked in the
direction whence the sound had come, to catch
sight of the animal. Owen thought, as he strained
his eyes, he could make out some black mass in the
distance. Still he half doubted whether what he
saw might not be one of the lumps of rock project-
ing through the mountain’s side.
Again the boy put his ear to the earth, and
again he was convinced that the animal was coming
towards him. |
“Poor thing!†exclaimed the lad, “it must have
strayed a long way, wherever it has come from, for
there’s no cottage near for miles round. Perhaps
it’s lost its foal, I'll stop quite still here, and when
it comes up Pll take it back with me to the yard,
and make it up a nice bed in the stable till the
morning. I shall like it for poor old Jack’s sake,
for he was always so fond and thankful for anything
f did for him.â€
A short time elapsed, and Owen, who had been
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS. 397
still looking into the dusky distance, cried, “ Yes! I
can see it plaindy now. It’s coming straight towards
me, but there’s somebody on its back. What can
it mean? What can any one want out at this hour,
and taking such a road as this?â€
Presently, as the wind blew across the hills towards
theapproaching animal, another loud bray pierced the
stillness of the night, and the lad gave a start back
as he exclaimed, “ Zhat’s my old Jack, ’m sure!â€
and once more the little fellow looked towards the
creature, to assure himself he was not mistaken.
“Tm sure it’s Jack. Oh, they've stolen him, they
have,†cried Owen, as the tears streamed down his
eyes. He’s been left out on the common, and the
gipsies have got hold of him, I know. And what
can J do here alone against one of those wicked |
fellows. But Pll havea struggle for it; they sha’n’t
take my old Jack from me if I can helpit. He
knows Tm here, for, hark! how quick he’s coming
now. Yes, he knows it as well as he used to, when
IT was coming over the common, long before he saw
me. He sha’n’t be taken away to be ill-treated, I’m
determined.â€
Owen crept behind the rock, and armed himself
with a large stone, as he watched the figure
draw nearer and nearer towards him; then peeping |
out from behind the edge of the crag, the boy
muttered to himself, “The fellow is taken with the
lights at the farm yonder, for he keeps his head
898 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS.:
turned that way; so as he goes by I'll spring out
upon him unawares and throw him from his seat,
and then jump on old Jack’s back and be off.
Yes,†continued Owen to himself, as he drew his
breath quicker and quicker, “the fellow still keeps
his head turned from me. Hush! here he comes,
and now is the time.â€
It was but the work of a moment for Owen to
dart from his hiding-place. With a bound to-
wards the rider, he was about to fling him to the
ground, when Jack wheeled suddenly round towards
his little master, and so in a measure warded off the
force of the blow. The rider, finding himself thus
unexpectedly attacked, turned round in his seat
and seized Owen by the collar. As he did go,
the little fellow shrieked, “It’s John Jarman, as
1 live!â€
“What, Owen?†cried the blacksmith’s boy, at
the same moment, “TI thought you were over at the
farm yonder, and I was looking at the lights there,
wondering which was yours.â€
“Come, Master John,†said Owen sharply, as the
fond animal rubbed his head against his side, “ what
business have you with my Jack here. You haven’t
turned thief, have you, and taken him away without
asking?†|
“Thief, Owen!†shouted the boy. “I’m not in
@ humour to bear that kind of talk. I can tell you
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS. oud
If it 7s your animal, I thought you were frieud
enough that I could borrow it of you withont
asking.â€
“ Borrowing without asking,†replied Owen, an-
grily, “is what I call stealing.â€
“Do you?†shouted the other, “then take that!â€
And as the young blacksmith said this, he levelled a
heavy blow at Owen. At the same moment, how-
ever, old Jack, anxious to get rid of his load, bent
down his head, and kicking ouf his heels, sent young
Jarman—who, in the attempt to strike the little
fellow, had lost his seat on the animal’s back—flying
over his head.
John Jarman fell heavily against the crags, and
lay stunned by the fall.
Owen stood almost paralyzed with fright, as he
saw young Jarman stretched senseless on the ground,
and he thought at first, in his alarm, that the boy
had been killed on the spot. A thousand fears rushed
instantly through his brain. He was alone there in
the dark, and what should he do with him, and how
should he ever be able to make out to the people
that it was no fault of his. Then he remembered
how sadly the poor fellow had been treated at home,
and, as his heart relented, he went towards the boy,
crying as he knelt down beside him, “John, John!
speak to me! Oh, do speak to me! Open your eyes
and look at me. John. We said we had made it up
4.00 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS.
at Parson Wynn’s, and don’t let us quarrel again,
You may have Jack; I'll give him to you if you'll
only promise to be good to him.â€
The blacksmith’s boy looked up in Owen’s face,
and said faintly, “It served me right. I’ve had
blows enough myself, without wanting to give you
any. But I was angry, Owen. Father’s been at his
old tricks. There, ’m better now, thank you. It
was a heavy tumble though ; it shook me all to pieces
like, Father came home drunk again and dragged
me out of bed a few hours ago and thrashed me, in my
night-gown as I was, till I was nearly mad with the
pain; so seized my clothes and ran away, and there’s
an end of it now, for I'll never go back—never. I
didn’t hit you, did I, Owen?â€
“No, no, John,†replied the boy, “and I should
have thought when I saw you in such a place as
this, and so late at night, that something had hap-
pened to youat home. But where are you going
to, John? and have you got any money to carry you
on the road?â€
“Yve got a little,†answered Jarman, sullenly.
“Tsolda fish I caughta few days ago. But what’s
to become of mother now I’m gone troubles me, |
Father’s very wicked—there’s no other word for it,
Owen—and he knocks poor mother about as well ag
me. When I was at home I could stop him harming
her a little; but now he'll do as he likes with her.
‘He's finished with me though, for I can’t stand it any
THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS. 401 .
longer; so I’m off to Bristol to get a ship. I only
wish I'd gone before, when I was up at Mr. Wynn’s.
Ill send the donkey back by the wagoner, Owen,
when I get to Brecon. You needn't be afraid
about him.â€
“No, no, John! but wont you come and stop the
night at the farm,†inquired Owen, kindly ; “they’re
very good people, and I know they'd let you stay
with me.â€
“That wont suit me, Owen,†said the blacksmith’s
boy ; “I should have some one keeping me back, and
persuading me to go home again, like a fool. But
now [I’m off for good—or bad—lI hardly care which.
Good bye, Owen, I'll come and see you if I ever get
safe back again.â€
“ But stay a minute, John,†said his little com-
panion, as he fumbled in his pockets; “I’ve got a
shilling or two here. One father paid me for the
clock I made, and one Captain Jones gave me. Do
you take them, they'll help you on your way.â€
“You're a good little fellow,†said young Jarman,
as he held out his hand; “they will be of use to
me, Owen, and when I come back from sea I'll give
them to you again, and I'll bring you some nice
present from abroad for the loan of them. Ah! I
was foolish ever to quarrel with you; but you see
everybody in the village used to tell me, when I
complained of father’s treatment, that I should
strive to be like you. They would say, see what a
DD
402 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE STARS.
good lad Owen Evans is, until I was sick of the
name of Owen Evans. But we're friends now,
Owey, and if I don’t go to the bottom of the sea,
and can do you a good turn in after life, why you
may depend upon it I will, and be glad of the
chance, too. Good bye, Owen,†and the blacksmith’s
boy, as he mounted old Jack once more, stretched
out his hand to Owen Evans, who threw his arm
round his companion’s neck and hugged him to him
as he echoed the other’s words, “ Good bye.â€
A few minutes afterwards young Jarman was
forcing the donkey onwards towards Brecon, while
Owen, with his eyes full of tears, stood on the crag
watching the two disappear in the darkness.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE BOY TAKES HIS STAR-PAPERS TO TIIE ODD
OLD SQUIRE AT THE OBSERVATORY.
OWEN was some little time before he could get the
thoughts of young Jarman out of his mind, and he
kept wondering where poor John had got to—and
whether his money was all gone—and how he would
live when it was at an end—and how, too, he would
miss the comforts of his home, bad as he thought it.
But, boy-like, Owen in a few days had sufficiently
forgotten the scene on the mountain to be able to
continue his little chart of the heavens, and the
praises of the old farmer made him so pleased with
the work, that he grew to long for its completion.
At length, what with staying out late and rising
early, the little shepherd had transferred to his
humble map the figures of all the constellations that
were visible at that part of the globe. When,
however, he had brought his labours to an end, the
plan, owing to the boy’s ignorance of perspective,
DD 2
40-4 THE BOY TAKES HIS STAR-PAPELS
was far from being an accurate copy of the heavens;
for not only had the boy drawn the forms of the diffe-
rent constellations separately, and had no idea of
grouping them into a whole, under one point of view,
but having copied the figures of the stars at different
periods, had blended together the constellations that
were and were not visible at the same time, so that
when they were all spread out together on his chart,
the line that bounded them was anything but that
of the horizon. Nevertheless, it was a wonderful
performance, rude asit was, for a self-taught lad, and
had cost him no little trouble to get the several con-
stellations into their right places one with another.*
As, however, it would be impossible to convey to
the reader a correct notion of the places of the stars
by a literal transcript of the shepherd-boy’s star-
papers, the following engraving has been made to
represent a view of the constellations that appear
above the horizon in our latitude, at the period
* The construction of these star-papers is no fable. The
shepherd boy Ferguson delineated them by sliding beads on a
string, and rude as they necessarily were, still, regarded as the
work of a mere boy, and one too who was comparatively un-
educated, they were considered by all who could appreciate them
as the emanation of no ordinary mind. Neither is the circum-
stance of the old farmer doing the boy’s work at the farm,
while the little fellow copied out his plan of the stars, in the
least apocryphal. Ferguson, in his autobiography, narrates the
incident, adding, ‘‘I shall always havea respect for the memory
of that man.â€
TEN’S STAR PAPER
TO THE ODD OLD SQUIRE, ETC. 405
when Orion is crossing the meridian, and when the
best view of the heavenly bodies is to be obtained.*
The little chart once finished, the boy grew
anxious to let his father and old Captain Jones see
what he had done. Nor was the simple-minded
farmer less proud of the work than Owen himself,
and he took especial delight in making the lad
exhibit the map to every one that came—no matter
whether on business or pleasure—to the farm,
always taking care at the same time to impress on
* This map is intended to give the reader merely a rough
notion of the places of the principal stars in the firmament.
For the sake of simplicity few of the stars beyond those of the
third magnitude have been inserted, and it should be borne in
mind that the map will serve only for the nights during the
months of December, January, and February. Orion comes to
the meridian at about midnight on the 10th December, and
just upon two hours earlier every succeeding month; that is to
say, at about 10 o’clock at night on the 10th January, and at
about 8 o'clock at night on the 10th February. It has been
before explained that a sidereal day is very nearly 4 minutes
shorter than our ordinary clock-day, or, in other words, that the
same star crosses the meridian every 23 hours 56 minutes.
Hence for each day after the 10th December 4 minutes must be
subtracted from 12 o’clock at night. Suppose, for stance, we
wished to know at what hour Orion would come to the meridian
on the 21st January, then, as this is 41 days after the 10th
December, we must multiply 41 by 4, and that gives us 164
minutes, or 2 hours 44 minutes for the time to be subtracted
from 12 hours 0 minutes; so that we thus find this constellation
would cross the meridian then, at about 16 minutes past 9 in the
evening. | :
406 THE BOY TAKES HIS STAR-PAPERS
the people that “her was a most wonderful boy.â€
Consequently, Owen had little or no difficulty in
obtaining leave of the farmer to go home for a day
or two, so as to show his star-papers to his friends.
When Davy Evans looked upon his boy’s work,
the poor man was deeply affected by it, for he could
not help feeling the bitterness of the lot that
deprived him of the means of fostering a talent that
promised, if properly cultured, to yield such noble
results; and as he hugged the little fellow to his
bosom, he grieved over his sorry fortune till the
map was spotted with his tears. The labourer was
saddened to think how pitiful it was that a boy
with a mind like Owen’s should be forced to get his
bread by the labour of his hands, and—though Davy
generally bore his humble lot in life with sufficient
heroism to be contented with it—now, however, he
could not refrain from contrasting his fortunes with
those who had been more favoured in life, and won-
dering why he should have been given a son, with a
mind that only wanted tuition to take rank among
the most intellectual, when he was denied the means
of educating him. The poor man could not help
thinking of the well-to-do squires round about hin,
and how little their children seemed to be conscious
of the benefits that had been heaped upon them,
deeming it even a drudgery to have the stores of wis-
- dom opened to them; while others, less lucky than
TO THE ODD OLD SQUIRE, ETC. 407
themselves, felt the want of the means to acquire anv
knowledge to be the most bitter of their privations.
At length Davy Evans told Owen that he was
but a poor judge as to the merits of his work,
and that he had better carry his map to the
Captain, from whom he had already learnt so much
about the stars and the earth; for the old gentleman
would be able to understand it better than he could.
The boy was delighted at the opportunity of visiting
his old friend once more, and hastened to do as his
father had directed.
On reaching the cottage, Owen was grieved to
find the old sailor ill in bed, and he would have
returned at once, had not Mrs. Pugh told him that
she knew the Captain would be vexed if he did so;
for her master had been talking of Owen ever since
he had gone to the farm; and only that very
morning he was wondering if he should ever see
the boy again. ‘Then the housekeeper lifted up her
apron, and wiped her eyes with the corner of it, as
she informed Owen that she “was afeard her poor
dear master was a-breaking very fast, and that he
would never see the winter out ;†adding, “that he
was as good a master as ever wore shoe leather. And
what was to become of her when he, poor soul, was
gone, was more than she could say.â€
Presently, Owen was ushered into the little bed-
room, and there he found the old man with his
408 THE BOY TAKES HIS STAR-PAPERS
white hair streaming on the pillow, and the mantel.
piece crowded with physic bottles.
The boy shuddered as he entered, and he walked
stealthily towards the bed, fearful of disturbing the
old man, if he should be dozing.
But the invalid had heard the door creak; and
turning in his bed as Owen approached, he stretched
out his veiny hand to him, saying, “I’m glad
you've come to see me, youngster,—very glad ;â€
and he pressed the boy’s palm as warmly as he had
power to do in his own. “But Mrs. Pugh isn’s
with you, is she?†inquired the old sailor in a half-
whisper.
Owen informed the Captain that he was alone
with him in the room ; and, as he did so, the boy
held his star-papers behind his back; for he was
unwilling to trouble the invalid upon any such
matters, weak as the old gentleman then appeared
to be.
“T’m glad she’s gone,†said the Captain; “for I
can’t bear the sight of that woman. She haunts
me with her carneying, hypocritical voice. She
thinks I’ve a little money to leave, and is like one
of the sharks that follow close in the wake of a ship
whenever there’s a chance of a death aboard. If
it wasn’t, Owen, for your little sister Peg, I should
be without a thing to love in the world; and
she’s a little bit of truth, bless her. There’s no
wheedling about her, Owen, —no thoughts of
TO THE ODD OLD SQUIRE, ETC. 409
legacies to come—ugh! It would be better to
die the death of a pauper; for those about you
then would at least be honest. But Mrs. Pugh
fancies I’ve got some money to leave, and is always
worrying me to make my will, saying, we never
know when we may be cut off—hang her! Tm
well aware [ve not long to live; but what does
she want continually croaking of death to me? I'll
foil her, though, that I will. You’re sure she’s not
listening outside the door. Go and see, lad; for if
she heard me say as much, I shouldn't be able to
get a thing from her. Ah! boy, it’s sad work,â€
said the old man, sorrowfully, “to be obliged
to end your days without a soul about you, but
those whose services you pay for; and who, you
think, are waiting for your last gasp, for what 1t
shall bring to them. There’s no one but little
Peg that I love and can trust in the world; and
she’s like a little creature fresh from the heaven I
hope to go to,—with her beautiful laugh, as full of
truth and happiness as the voice of the lark itself.
But you see, lad, when we get old we grow sus-
picious; the blood gets chilled; and Vd give the
world to be like you, now, Owen with a whole life
before me, and all my actions to do over again.
Ah! what fine things I'd do then, boy. So, do
you profit by me, and not come, as I do, to look
back on your life in your old age as a waste of years,
and to see what you mzght have done, and how little
410 THE BOY TAKES HIS STAR-PAPERS
you did. But all this is sad work for you, Owen;
so come, tell me what you have been doing since I
saw you last. You never came to wish me good
bye, though.†|
“Sir,†said Owen, “I had to leave in such a
hurry ; and I asked father to call and thank you
for all your kindness to me.†| |
“JT know you did, boy,†answered the old man,
as he squeezed Owen’s hand again in his; “and I
felt 1b deeply at the time. But at my age we are
apt to expect more attention than we have any
right to meet with. We get selfish—wretchedly
selfish, lad, and think everybody should give place
to us. I forget, too, that people like you. have
their living to look to. But what have you been
doing, little fellow ?â€
“T’ve been minding sheep on the hills, sir,†re-
plied the boy.
“Yes,†responded the old man, “when you
should have been minding your books and gather-
ing up knowledge to help you through the world
in after life. That's not your fault though,
youve to struggle for your bread, and that’s
dearer than knowledge, after all, It’s a long time
since we had a chat together, Owen—a very long
time.â€
_ “ [ve been away only a little more than a month,
air,†interposed the boy.
“Only a month,†said the Captain, thoughtfully ;
TO THE ODD OLD SQUIRE, ETC. 4} }
“but I can’t remember now, at all—my mind has
quite gone. I only know I used to talk to you,
and love you, boy; for many a pleasant hour I’ve
had with you.†oe ,
“Yes, sir,†replied Owen, mournfully; “it was
you who first taught me that the world was round,
and led me to think of the stars. You told me
how they all seemed to move round one fixed point.
in the heavens.†-
“ Did I—did I?†mused the invalid. Well, it’s
all gone out of my head—all gone—all.â€
“T’m sure I’ve often thought of you, Captain
Jones,†said Owen, “as I lay out on the hills at
night, looking at the sky, and thanked you over
and over again for all you had told me.â€
“ Bless you, lad,’ murmured the old man; “bless
you. You havn't forgotten old ‘Mitter Jone,’ then,
as Peggy calls him.â€
“No, that I hav’n’t, sir,†responded the lad ;
“for when I was doing my star-papers I used to
say to myself, if it hadn’t been for you, I might
never have thought about the heavens.â€
“Star-papers! What—what—what do you
mean, boy?’ inquired the Captain, hurriedly.
“You never had any—what-d’ye-call’em ?—from
me, that I can recollect.â€
“No, Captain Jones,†replied Owen, “holding the
little roll he alluded to closer behind his back. “T
meant the star-papers I’d been doing of late.â€
412 THE BOY TAKES HIS STAR-PAPERS
1°?
“You've been doing of late!†exclaimed the
sailor. “Then why didn’t you bring them to show
me ?â€
Hereupon the little fellow explained to the old
man that he had them with him, but that he was
afraid to trouble him. The Captain, however, in-
sisted upon seeing the boy’s work, and Owen was at
length forced to submit them to his view.
It was as much as the boy could do to raise the
old man in his bed, and prop him up in it, with the
pillows at his back. When, however, Owen found how
weak and almost helpless the Captain had grown, he
begged of him not to disturb himself on his account.
But the kind-hearted sailor felt tov great an inte-
rest in the lad to be deprived of the pleasure of
seeing what he had been doing about the stars.
Accordingly, as soon as his coughing fit was over,
the invalid said, “Come, I’m not so bad as all that,
Owen. Im only a little bit weak ; and the change
of season 1s always so trying for me, especially the
fall of the year. Ah! boy,†went on the old man,
“it’s asad thing to become a child again; for in
your second childhood you’re.as helpless as you were
in your first—but what’s worse than all, you’ve just
brains enough left to know how powerless you
really are in the world. Little Peg is more than a
match for me now, and yet I can remember the
time when I’ve laid a hulking fellow of six foot flat
on the quarter-deck for refusing to obey orders, I
TO THE ODD OLD SQUIRE, ETC. 413
wish I was like you, boy; I wish I was like you.
But give me your papers.â€
The lad unrolled his map, and having spread it
out on the bed, explained to the old man the means
by which he had constructed the figures of the
various constellations,
“Very well done, indeed, boy,—very well done,â€
mumbled the invalid. “Yes; there’s the Bull with
the bright star Aldebaran among the Hyades; and
there’s Cassiopeeia’s Chair, and here’s Orion with his
belt, and the upper star in it, there, is just upon
the equinoctial line. You've got the Great Dog,
too, I see, with Sirius, all right; and here’s the
Little Dog, I declare, with Procyon in its true place
—I can remember the names of them all, you see,
though I almost forget: my own. Ah! and there’s
my little favourite Pole-star, up at the top of the
world. Very well done, very well done, indeed,
my little man,†continued the Captain, his eyes still
rivetted on the chart before him. “You've got them
all exactly as [ve noticed them, over and over
again, when I’ve been pacing the deck in the middle
watch at night; and as I look at this bit of paper |
here, I can see the sky spangled over with its
million lights as plainly as if they were shining
above me now. I shall be among them soon—
among them soon,†sighed the old man, as his head
fell back upon the pillow.
“You're not ill, sir?†cried Owen, in alarm,
414 THE BOY TAKES HIS STAR-PAPERS
“No, no, lad,†replied the invalid, “only the
sight of your chart made me think of the bright
home I’m going to. It’s capitally dene, boy. And
do you know, as I run my eye along the line of the
ecliptic here, I can remember working the longi-
tudes by many of the stars about that part of the
heavens, and each one, as I look at it, calls up in
my mind some long train of events.â€
The old man was then seized with another
violent fit of coughing, which so exhausted him,
that he lay for some few moments on his pillow,
gasping for breath.
Then the spirit of the invalid’s conversation
was changed. “I wish the doctor would come,†he
cried, “it’s his day, too, I think. Let me see, when
did he say he’d come again. He was with me last
Wednesday. No, no, it couldn’t have been Wednes-
day either. What day are we at now, Owen? for
tT can’t remember the least thing—it’s all gone, boy,
all gone.â€
Owen inquired whether the old man thought he
could sleep a bit if he left him for a while, but the
invalid shook his head, and he held the boy as
tightly as he could by the hand. Then the little —
follow leant over the pillow, and asked whether he _
should go over to Builth for the doctor. Where-
upon the Captain opened his eyes, and smiled at
_ Owen as he pressed the boy’s hand, once more,
im his,
TO THE ODD OLD SQUIRE, ETC. 418
Presently he said, “ You're very good, lad—very
good; but I’m better now. That dreadful cough
of mine tries me sadly when it comes on. Don’t
leave me yet a while, Owen. I should like to have
you and little Peg always with me; but you, boy,
have your living to get, and she—little puss—is too
full of her games for me to be able to bear with at
all times.†|
“Shall I move these papers, sir, from the bed?â€
inquired the lad; “I’m afraid they’re in your way.â€
“Wait a while, Owen,†returned the old man.
“T knew there was something I intended to do, and
if you hadn’t spoken of your star-papers just then,
I should have forgotten all about it, I’m sure.â€
Then the Captain directed Owen to fetch the
desk from below, and afterwards dictated a letter to
a friend of his—a Mr..Blackwater—who, he said,
was one of the most learned scientific men of the
time, and had a grand observatory at the top of one
of the hills on the Radnorshire side of the Wye. The
old sailor, when he was Captain of the Brockelbank,
had rendered this gentleman some service; he had
brought him, he said, a large piece of “wootz,†or
Indian steel, at the time Mr. Blackwater was
making some experiments on the hardening of iron,
and this the philosopher had prized so highly, that
he had promised the sailor to do him any favour
that lay in his power. So, although the gentleman
was very eccentric in his habits, and lived a per-
416 THE BOY TAKES HIS STAR-PAPERS
fectly retired life, going nowhere and seeing no one,
nevertheless, the Captain said, he had little doubt
that, at his request, Mr. Blackwater would allow
Owen to have a peep through his large telescope,
and he would be able to tell him, too, whether his
star-papers were accurate or not; adding, “ You'll
learn more from him, boy, in an hour, if he will
only talk to you, than you would get out of me in a
twelvemonth.â€
When the letter was written, the old Captain
was at a loss to remember the precise address ; how-
ever, he told Owen he had only to describe the
character of the person he wanted at the ferry, to
be immediately set in the right direction.
At length Owen was dismissed on his errand, for
the sailor was anxious to learn the result of the
boy’s visit; and as old Jack had been duly sent
back by the young blacksmith, the little fellow was
glad to avail himself of the assistance of his favourite
brute to carry him on the road. So as they jogged
along together, the boy chattered to the animal,
now patting him for his remembrance of him on the
hills, and then communicating to him, as usual, all
he was about to do, and how he hoped to make
Jack happy when he had grown a big man, and was
able to earn a good bit of money every week;
assuring him he shouldn’t be left out on the common
ell night then, but he should have a nice warm bed
TO THE ODb OLD SQUIRE, ETC. 417
in a little stable of his own, and plenty of corn to
eat, besides an apple or two, and some peppermint
drops for a treat sometimes.
Owen had little difficulty in ascertaining the
locality of the residence of the gentleman he was in
quest of, for it was well known to every one on the
Radnorshire side of the water.
The house was situate near the top of a bleak
hill, and round about the grounds ran wires, that
extended as far as the lad’s eye could reach, while
against the walls of the house itself were placed
huge water barometers reaching upwards of thirty feet
high. On the roof stood a curious-looking “ane-
mometer,†consisting of a large vane with a number
of wheels, for measuring and registering the force
and direction of the wind. On the lawn, too, were
rain gauges and “drosometers,†or instruments for
measuring the quantity of dew fallen in the night.
Here and there, against the hill-side, deep caverns
had been burrowed, where the owner occasionally
passed his time watching the formation of some
artificial crystal in the dark. Crowning the sum-
mit of the hill a gigantic telescope might be seen,
whose long iron tube looked, at a distance, more.
like the funnel to a steamboat than part of any
optical instrument. This was pointed upwards like
a huge cannon, and rested on a triangular pier of
black marble that was as high as the house itself,
EE
418 THE BOY TAKES HIS STAR-PAPERS
while over the top of the pier projected the axis on
which the huge machine turned, with the end of it
weighted with ponderous metal discs like iron
cheeses; and down one side of the pier extended what
was called the “polar axis†of the instrument, with a
large wheel at the end, so that any star to which
the telescope was set might be always kept in the
field of view. ‘So admirably, too, was the immense
machine counterpoised, that though it weighed
altogether between two and three tons, the force of
a child might move it. |
Nor was the interior of the building less peculiar
than the exterior. The rooms were fuller of appa-
ratus than furniture. Here stood a pair of exqui-
sitely-delicate scales in a glass case, and there was
an air-pump, with a saucer full of some curious fluid
set to evaporate beneath the exhausted receiver,—
and there, again, a huge glass-plate electrifying ma-
chine. Then there were “ galvanometers,†with their
needles delicately hung under glass shades, and large
gold-leaf electrometers and “eudiometers,†or instru-
ments for measuring the quantity of oxygen in the
atmosphere, and “hydrometers†for telling the amount
of moisture in it. There were “ specific gravity†scales,
too, and “acetometers,†for testing the strength of
acids. ‘This room was filled with retorts and glass
funnels, and graduated bell-glass receivers for gases,
_ and gasometers, like huge japanned mufi-boxes, and
nests of crucibles, placed one over the other as
TO THE ODD OLD SQUIRE, ETC. 419
a Jew clothesman carries his hats on his head.
Then another room was littered with “transit in-
struments,†and “equatorials,†and microscopes, and
“theodolites,†with large celestial and terrestrial globes,
and such a medley of instruments of all shapes and
contrivances, that the mind was bewildered in its
endeavour to comprehend the uses of them all.
The owner of the residence was as eccentric as
the house itself. It was reported that he was of
noble birth, and claimed a duke for his grand-
father on both sides, though he himself had never
been known to allude to the circumstance. His
great wealth, however, was no secret, for he had
already founded a public library in the neighbour-
ing town, and stocked it at his own expense.
Thither he himself had been sometimes seen to go
when in want of some book that his own shelves.
at home did not contain; nor did he fail, on such
occasions, to sign a receipt for the volume he ob-
tained, with as much regularity, as if he were a
visitor there, either little known or little trusted.
But perhaps the most marked of his peculiarities
was his aversion to strangers, for he shrank from all
society, desiring ever to be alone with his books or
instruments. But despite his efforts at retirement,
his researches soon made him a conspicuous per-
sonage in the world of science, for he had been
elected a Fellow of most of the learned Societies of
London and on the continent; still such a dislike
rE 3
420 THE BOY TAKES HIS STAR-PAPERS, ETC.
had he for worldly honours, and so intense was his
aversion to be pointed out as a great man, that he
was continually striving to keep his fame a secret,
and wondering why people would not leave him
alone in the world.
CHAPTER XV.
THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER.
OweEN found no little difficulty in gaining admit-
tance to this strange individual. The boy was
minutely questioned by the old man-servant at the
hall-door as to the nature of his business, and was
told it was no use sending the letter up, for the gen-
tleman was too busy to be troubled, and never would
allow any stranger to set foot in the place. “Scores
and scores,†said the servant, “used to come—and
some of the first people in the country, too—but to
no purpose; for Mr. Blackwater would never see any
of them.â€
To the attendant’s astonishment, however, a mes-
sage was at length sent down that the boy, who had
brought the letter from Captain Jones, was to be
shown into the library.
Owen was not a little fluttered as he entered the
room and found himseif in the presence of the gen-
tleman of whom he had lately heard so much. The
422 THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER.
philosopbr was a small, spare man, witha very large
high head, that had little or no hair left upon it,—
his eyes were piercing and deep set, with the eye-
brows hanging half over them; his features, too,
were sharp and pinched, and sv austere was his
look, that at the first glance he appeared ta be almost
deficient in human sympathy.
“So you want to have a peep through the tele-
scope, do you?†inquired the recluse, in a shrill
voice, as he looked at the little fellow through his
eyebrows. “You'd much better mind your work.
What do you'do? Keep the crows off, eh, boy?â€
“No, if you please, sir,†said Owen, nervously,
“J mind sheep on the hills.â€
“Oh! you do—do you,†growled the cynic, “then
why don’t you keep to it instead of wasting your
time star-gazing; you'll get better wages as a shep-
herd than you will as a philosopher. Can: you
read ?â€
The timid boy was ready to cry as he informed
the gentleman that he could—a little.
“Well, then,†growled on the other, “why don’t |
you mind your books? But I dare say you fancy
knowledge is to come without learning.â€
Owen could bear the severe manner of the man
no longer, and turning his head away from him, he
burst into a flood of tears.
The astronomer, on hearing the boy’s sobs, was
a little softened, and, rising from his seat, went
soremee. me
289s omens
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ig
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Blackwater. —P, 423.
Owen’s interview with Mr.
THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER. 423
towards him, as he said, “Come, my boy, I didn’t
mean to wound you. There, dry your eyes, and let
me see the papers the Captain tells me you have to
show me.â€
The little fellow handed Mr. Blackwater the
chart he had brought with him, though, as he did
so, he inwardly wished he could get away from the
place somehow or other,
Lhe austere man no sooner spread the map out
before him, than he turned quickly round to the boy
and asked, “ Did you do this yourself?â€
Owen nodded assent, for his heart was too full to
speak. |
“You didn’t copy it out of any book?†inquired
the other.
The boy shook his head.
“Well, then come here to me, lad,†said the
astronomer, In a more subdued tone. “There, don’t
be afraid. I seem harsh, I know, for I’m little used
to deal with the world. Well, I can tell you, boy,
that this map gives great promise of your doing
better things some day; but only with deep study,
remember, and filling your mind with the thoughts
and discoveries of all the great men who have gone
before you. You mustn’t think, boy, that it’s pos-
sible for you alone to find out all that it has taken
mind after mind, from the very dawn of knowledge,
to heap together ; for every science, remember, is buil$
up by a number of workers, each adding only the
424, THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER.
smallest fragment to the general structure, like the
tiny creatures whose united labours form, in the
course of ages, immense reefs of coral.â€
The philosopher then led Owen to a large plani-
sphere of the heavens that hung against one side of
the library, and he there pointed out to the boy the
defects of his little chart ; showing him how he had |
crowded under the same horizon, at the same time,
stars that could have become visible only at different
periods. And as he compared the figures of the
different constellations with those delineated by the
shepherd-boy, he pointed out to him the various
double stars that had been discovered, and told him
how these had been found to be revolving round each
other, like a twin sun ; and how some again formed
a threefold arrangement, each continually circu-
lating about the others—‘“as if,†said Mr. Black-
water, smiling grimly, “they were dancing a reel.â€
Then he pointed out to the boy the different fixed
stars, of which the parallax had already been ascer-
tained ; and told him how, though the sun was,
in round numbers, 100 millions of miles distant
from the earth, the Pole-star was upwards of 3
million of times farther removed from us than
the sun was, or more than 300 billions of miles
altogether ; which, he added, was such a distance,
that the light from it, though travelling more than
113 million miles a minute, would take no less than
00 years to reach our eyes; so that though we
TILE MODERN JACOBS LADDER. 4.25
fancy we see it of a night in the place it occu-
pies, at the moment of our looking upon it, we
really and truly behold it in the position it was in
half a century before.†|
Owen, who had grown more at ease as the phi-
losopher became more kindly and communicative,
was about to ask the gentleman for an explanation,
as to how he could possibly see the Pole-star where it
was 50 years back; but Mr. Blackwater proceeded
to tell him that it was from the discovery of the
“parallax†of some of the fixed stars that they had
been able to infer the distance of the others, accord-
ing to their several magnitudes. “Those of the first
magnitude,†he went on, “are the brightest that we
see, and are upwards of 1! million times farther
removed from the earth than the sun is. Those of
the second magnitude are more than 2 million
times the distance of the sun from us, and those of
the third magnitude more than 3 million times as far
from the earth as the sun, and so on down to the
sixth magnitude, which are the smallest stars that
are visible to the naked eye. The latter are, in round
numbers, 83 million of times farther than the sun
from the earth, or,†said he, “the light that you see
them by at night is that which left them more than
130 years ago, while it has been calculated that the
stars of the ninth magnitude—which the telescope
alone renders visible to us—are sunk so inconceivably
distant in the great ocean of space, that a flash of
4.26 THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER.
light, leaving them at one moment, would take
nearly 600 years to traverse the immense gulf that
hes between us and them.â€
All this was so overpowering to the boy, that he |
could net refrain from inquiring how it was pos-
sible for men to know as much. |
The Astronomer asked the lad if he knew how
the distance of the nearest of the heavenly bodies
was arrived at.
The little fellow told Mr. Blackwater that he had
long wanted to understand it; adding, that he had
- often, as he lay out on the hills, wondered how it
was possible to measure the distance of things that
there was no getting near to.
The philosopher smiled at the doubt of the boy,
and said, “Well, Pll try to give you a notion as
to how it is done. Do you know what parallax
means?†inquired the philosopher.
“Captain Jones, sir,†answered the boy, “ told
me that parallax was the different place that an
object appeared in when we looked at it from a
_ different point of view.â€
“T am glad to find you know so much already,â€
answered the Astronomer. “Parallax is simply
that apparent change of place in an object which
arises from a real change of place of the observer.â€
“Yes, sir,†said Owen, encouraged by the appro-
bation of one who seemed so difficult to please. “I
know that if you hold a coin close before you, and
THE MODERN JACOB'S LADDER. 4c}
,
look at it first with one eye and then the other,
it appears to shift its place, because we are then
viewing it from different points.â€
“There’s a brave lad,†added Mr. Blackwater,
not a little astonished to find the boy had so
thorough a knowledge of the matter. “Well, then,
listen! The coin held close before us, and viewed
with each of the eyes successively, is only a simple
illustration of one of the highest astronomical prin-
ciples—the one, indeed, by which the distance of
the sun and planets is arrived at, and even that of
the fixed stars measured; for we have only to
imagine each of our eyes to be a different observer
situate at different parts of the earth, or of the
earth’s course round the sun ;—that is to say, we have
but to fancy the 23 inches that our eyes are apart
to be expanded into 4 thousand miles, the semi-
diameter of the earth,—or into 95 million miles,
the semi-diameter of the earth’s orbit, and to regard
the coin as some immense orb millions of miles
removed from us—to have a perfect notion of what
is meant by the parallax of the sun and stars.â€
“1 hope you wont be angry with me, sir, for saying
i cannot make out how you can measure the distance
oi a thing in that way?†said the lad, timidly.
“No, no, boy!†went on the Astronomer. “ Any-
thing I can teil you, I will, Well, my lad, if you
notice what takes place with an object held close
before you, you will find that the nearer it is to
428 THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER.
you, the greater the space it appears to travel
through as you regard it first with one eye and
then the other. There, hold your finger up and see
whether I am right.†:
“Oh, yes! sir,†cried Owen, as he made the
simple experiment ; “when my finger is close in front
of me, it seems, as I open one eye and shut the
other, to move half across the book-case yonder ;
but when I hold my finger as far away from me as
I can, it moves only the length of a few books.â€
“So then,†was the reply, “ you perceive that the
nearer an object is to you the greater is its apparent
change of place, when viewed from different points
of sight, and on the contrary, the farther an object
is off, the less is its apparent change of place when
regarded from different situations. Now let us see
if we can measure the distance of the moon from
the earth by such means. Well then, lad, if the
earth were perfectly transparent, it is evident that
a person at the centre of it would see all the celestial
bodies in their true places in the heavens; for the
centre being a fixed point, he would continually re-
main in the same position ; consequently as the paral-
lax of objects, or their apparent change of place, pro-_
ceeds only from a real change of place in the observer;
and as a person situate at the centre of the earth
would never alter his position, the sun, moon, and
stars could have no parallax to him, Do you follow
that?
THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER 4.29
“Yes, sir,†replied the boy; “but I should never
have thought of such a thing, I am sure.â€
“No, of course you wouldn't,†continued the
Astronomer, “nor a hundred others older and wiser
than you. ‘Well, let us suppose one person to be
situate on the surface and the other at the centre of
the earth, and see how the moon would appear to two
such observers. But I can show you a drawing of that
already done;†and, so saying, Mr. Blackwater drew
a volume from the bookcase, and, spreading it out
before the boy, exposed the following engraving te
his view.
430 THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER. -
“Now the larger sphere you see here represents
the earth, and the smaller one the moon; and sup-
posing a person to be stationed at the top of the
globe here, and another to be at its centre, it is plain
that when the moon was in the zenith, or exactly
~ over the heads of the two as at 2, they would both
see it in the same place; whereas when it had
appeared to pass from that point a little way to-
wards the horizon, the observer at the surface would,
in the course of the revolution of the earth, have
shifted his place with regard to it, and conse-
quently, see it in the direction of the dotted line
at x; while to the person at the centre, who would
have remained in the same place all the time, 1t would
appear in the direction of the other line at 4, that
is to say, the moon would be seen from the middle
of the earth in its true position, whereas, at the
surface, it would appear depressed towards the
horizon, and be referred to a point in the Leavens
that was some little distance removed from the real
place it then occupied. Then, as the moon seemed
to draw nearer the horizon, it would be more and
more displaced, and when it reached the horizon
itself, the extent of the displacement would be the
greatest of all, for the observer at the centre would
see It in the direction of the line at s, while, viewed
from the surface, it would then appear considerably
below its true place in the heavens, or in the direc-
tion of the line at r. This constitutes what is called
THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER. 431.
the ‘horizontal’ paraliax, which signifies simply the
difference in the apparent position of any celestial
body at the horizon when viewed from a station on
the swrface of the earth and from the centre. Now
to comprehend this, you have only to fancy, as I
said before, the distance between your two eyes to
be equal to the semi-diameter of the earth, and to
imagine the moon to be like the coin held in front
of them, and then you will perceive how the one
eye at the surface would see the object in a different
position from the eye at the centre.
Owen assured the Astronomer that he could
follow this part of the subject with little or no difhi-
culty, but still he could not make out how it was
possible to tell the distance of the heavenly bodies
in such a manner, since no one could get to the
middle of the earth to see them in their true
positions. —
“Well,†proceeded Mr. Blackwater, “there are
other ways of finding that out than by observing
the sun and moon from the centre of our globe.
ior instance, the moon appears to revolve about the
earth from the meridian back te ne meridian
again in about 24 hours 48 minutes, consequently
she should go a fourth part round it in a fourth
part of that time, or in 6 hours and 12 minutes ;—
that is to say, if we could get to the middle of the
earth, we know this would be the time that the
moon would be found to occupy in pertorming
432 THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER.
exactly one quarter of her apparent daily revolution
about our globe. But as observed from the earth’s
surface, she seems to go from the meridian to the
horizon in a ltétle less than a fourth part of the
24 hours 48 minutes; and if you were to take note
of the exact period, you would discover that instead
of taking 6 hours and 12 minutes to do that much
of her journey, she would seem to you to perform it
in about 3 minutes less. Now this affords us an
easy method of ascertaining the extent of the angle
formed by the moon’s horizontal parallax, for we
have but to convert the number of minutes that her
journey from the meridian to the horizon was short
of the 6 hours 12 minutes into parts of a degree,
in order to find the precise extent of her parallax
at this point of view. By such means as these, then,
we learn that the moon’s horizontal parallax is
57’ 18†or some few minutes less than 1 degree.
Now if you look at the engraving, you will per-
ceive that what we call the moon’s horizontal pa-
rallax represents the angle under which the semi-
diameter of the earth would appear to an observer
in the moon ; that is to say, the line A C would, at
the moon, be seen under an angle of 57’ 18â€, or let
us call it, to simplify the matter, 1 degree. Now we
know that this measures just upon 4000 miles, so
we have only to complete the circle of which this
1 degree is a part, in order to find out the exact
dimensions of the whole. Well, there are, you know,
THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER. 433 |
860 degrees to every circle, and as one of them
measures 4000 miles, the whole 360 must of course
measure 1,440,000 miles, and this gives us the entire
extent of the circumference of the circle of which
the moon is thecentre. Then, dividing that amount
by 3, we have 480,000 miles for a rough approxi-
mation to the length of its diameter, and halving
that again, we get 240,000 miles for the semi-
diameter or distance that the moon is from the earth.
However, let us make a drawing of this, and you
will see it in an instant.
There, boy, the little dot in the centre of the circle,â€
proceeded the philosopher, “represents the moon,
and the small circle at the edge of the larger one,
the earth. Well, an eye at the centre of the earth
would see the moon in its ¢rue position in the
heavens in the direction of the thick line, and refer
FF
43,4 THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER.
it to a point at (a), whereas an eye at the surface
would see that celestial body in the direction of
the dotted line referring it to a place in the
heavens at (0); this, then, you see, would consti-
tute the moon’s horizontal parallax. Now this
parallax we know by measurement to amount toa
little less than 1 degree, and as when two right
lines cross each other the opposite angles are equal,
we know also that the arc, or portion of the circle
included between the lines c & d must be exactly
equal to the are or portion of the. circle on the
opposite side included between the lines a & 6.
But we know, moreover, that this portion of the
circle is equal to the semi-diameter of the earth,
and consequently is in round numbers 4000 miles
long.* Then, as the space between c & d repre-
sents | degree, and this is the 360th part of the
entire circle, it is plain that the length of the whole
circumference must be 360 times 4000 miles. There- —
fore, knowing how many miles it is round the circle,
we can easily find how many miles it is across;
and then halving that quantity, we shall arrive at
the exact distance from the circumference to the
tentre, and so learn how far the moon is removed
from the earth.â€
ee
Me a cere A CP
* The line formed by the semi-diameter of the earth would
be what is called the ‘‘tangent†of this arc. In small angles,
however, the length of the are is very nearly the same as that of
its tangent.
THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER. 435
“T’m sure I thank you, sir,’ cried the boy, de
lighted to find that he could now follow the expla-
nation. “I never thought I should be able to under-
stand it, but now I can see how the distances of the
moon and stars are measured, and before, sir, I used
to think it was all guess work, and that it was im-
possible for any one to tell exactly how far they
were off. Can you find out how far the sun is from
the earth in the same manner, sir ?â€
“Yes, partly so, boy,†replied the astronomer;
“and the parallax of the sun, owing to its being
much farther removed from us than the moon, is
found to be not quite 9 seconds of a degree.*
Now, to ascertain how far a body, having such a
parallax, is removed from the earth, we must go
through the same reasoning as we did in the case of
the moon, bearing in mind, however, that the are, or
portion of the circle included between the lines ¢ d,t
represents in the case of the sun not quite 9 seconds
of a degree; consequently, as there are 1,296,000 se-
conds altogether in 360 degrees, that arc will be only
the 144 thousandth part of the entire circumference ;
hence, as the 144 thousandth part of the circumfe-
* The sun’s parallax is only 8’°6, instead of 9â€, as has been
assumed for the sake of simplifying the calculation; conse-
queutly, the sun’s distance from the earth is less than above-
mentioned, being generally taken at 95 million miles instead
of 96.
+ See Engraving, p. 483,
RRQ
436 THE MODERN JACOB’S LADDER.
rence measures 4000 miles, the entire circle having
the sun for its centre, must measure no less than 576
million miles round. Then dividing this by 3, we
have 192 million miles for the length across the circle,
and halving that, gives us 96 million miles for the
length of its semi-diameter, which is about the dis-
tance of the sun from the earth.â€
“ And is that the way, sir,’ inquired Owen, “the
distances of the planets and fixed stars are got at?â€
“Yes, boy,†answered Mr. Blackwater, “it is by
some such means, though there are other ways of
doing the same thing, but I needn’t trouble you
with them just now. J should tell you, however,
that on account of the difficulty of making accurate
observations at the horizon, owing to the refraction
there, the parallaxes are usually determined by
observations made by persons, stationed for the
purpose, at different parts of the earth; for in-
stance, one we will say is located at Vienna, and
another at the Cape of Good Hope—which two
places are on the same meridian, but in different
hemispheres, and very nearly 83° latitude removed
from each other. Thus the two eyes are nearly one-
fourth of the circumference of the earth apart, and
the same celestial body being observed by them is
seen by each out of its true position. Accordingly,
on an appointed day, two observers measure how
many degrees the object, whose parallax they wish
~ to obtain, appears to be distant from their respective
THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER. 439
zeniths at the moment of its crossing the meridian,
Then adding these zenith distances together, they
find that the sum of them amounts to more than
the sum of their latitudes, and the excess is the
extent of the angle that the object has been dis-
placed in the heavens, whence the horizontal paral-
Jax is easily calculated.â€
“But I hope you wont think me troublesome, —
sir,†said the boy, timidly, “if I ask you how you
tell the sizes of the sun and moon 2?â€
“No, boy,†smiled Mr. Blackwater ; “as we have
some little time to wait before you can have a peep
through the telescope, we may as well occupy our-
selves that way. When we know the distance of a
body and the angle under which it is seen, it is not
very difficult to calculate its size, for the angles
under which we see things become greater or less
according as the objects are larger or smaller, or
farther or nearer. For instance, an object close to the
eye is seen under a much larger angle than one a
long way off, and that is the reason why a man on
the top of a lofty building appears no bigger than
achild. The fact is, he is seen under a smaller angle,
and therefore appears smaller.â€
“But I can’t make out, sir,†interposed the lad,
_ “what you mean by seeing things under an angle.â€
“Well, look here, boy,†continued the astrono-
mer; “as I stand before you, if you were to draw a
thread from my feet and my head so that the endg
488 THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER.
met at the pupil of your eye, those two threads
would represent the angle under which you are view-
ing me; for you see all things merely by luminous
threads, or rays of light as they are termed, sent
from the objects to your eye. But if you were Jook-
ing at a smaller object at the same distance off from
you as | am—as for instance at this book which I
hold now in my hand—and a thread was to be drawn
from the top and bottom of it to your pupil, then
of course the threads from the book would not be so
wide apart on coming to your eye, as the threads
from me would be ; so that the book being smaller,
you would see it under a smaller angle. But now
suppose I was to leave the book where it is, and
with the threads still fastened to my feet and head,
I was to go farther away, you would find that as I
retired, the threads instead of being wide apart as
they approached your eye, like they were at first
when I stood near you, would, the farther I went,
come closer and closer together, and so form a smaller
angle, until at last, when I had retired to some
considerable distance, they would be in a line with
the threads from the book; and then you would see
me under the same angle as the book itself.â€
“Ah! now, sir, I understand what you mean ;
thank you,†said Owen.
“Well,†continued Mr. Blackwater, “if you look
again at the diagram I have before shown you con-
cerning the parallax of a body, you will see that the
THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER. 439
parallactic angle is merely the angle under which a
person in the moon or sun would see the semi-
diameter of the earth ; for you have only to suppose
an eye to be placed at the point where the lines
drawn from the centre and surface of the earth
meet, and to imagine those lines to represent two
rays of light, in order to comprehend that such must
be the angle under which that portion of the earth
would beseen. Now this angle we know by measure-
ment to be, in the case of the moon, 57’ 18â€, and
then doubling this we have 1° 54’ 36â€, or 6876†alto- ©
gether, for the angle that the entire diameter of the
earth would be seen under at the moon. Moreover,
we know by measurement that the diameter of the
moon is seen by us under an angle of 31’ 2â€, or
1862†altogether. But I have shown you that the
sizes of bodies at the same distance from the eye are
in proportion to the angles under which they are
viewed ; for you remember I pointed out to you that
_ you saw me under a greater angle than you beheld
the book when we were both at the same distance
from you. Accordingly, as the distance between the
moon and the earth must be the same, whether we
suppose an observer in the moon to be viewing the
diameter of the earth, or an observer on the earth to
be viewing the diameter of the moon, it follows that
the real diameters of these bodies must be in the same
proportion as their apparent ones, and as these are
respectively 6876†and 1862â€, therefore the real dia
440 THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER.
meters must be as 369 to 100, that is to say, the
diameter of the earth must be very nearly 3 7, greater
than that of the moon. Then, as we know the
earth to be in round numbers 8000 miles across,
we thus find that the length of the moon across
must be 2180 miles.â€
“So then, sir,†remarked Owen, thoughtfully,
“the moon is about a quarter as big as the earth?
More than two thousand miles across! And yet it
doesn’t look any larger up there than father’s grind-
stone ; does it, sir? How big is the sun, if you
please, sir ?â€
“Why,†continued Mr. Blackwater, “the sun is
so large that it would require about 880 earths put
in a line, one after the other, like so many cannon
balls, to reach across that body ; or if the sun were
placed close against our globe, only about one-quarter
of his diameter would fill up the space between us
and the moon, which you remember is 240 thou-
sand miles away from us.â€
“Oh! dear!†exclaimed the lad, lost in wonder,
“to think the sun would reach up to the moon!â€
“Yes, boy,†added the astronomer, “and three
times farther, too. But now let us see how this is
made out. The entire diameter of the earth, viewed
from the sun, would, of course, be seen under double
the angle that the semi-diameter of it would; and
as the angle that the semi-diameter of the earth is
seen under from the sun is the same as the sun’s
THE MODERN JACOBS LADDER. 4A
parallax, which you know I told you was not quite
9†of a degree, it follows that the entire diameter
of the earth would, if observed from the sun, be seen
under an angle of 17,2,â€.. But the sun’s diameter,
as seen from the earth, measures a little more than
the moon’s, or 32’ 3â€, which is 1293†altogether.
Consequently, the apparent diameter of the earth, seen
from the sun, being 17,2,â€, and the apparent diameter
of the sun seen from the earth being 1923â€, the real
diameters of those bodies must be in the same pro-
portion, or very nearly as 1 to 111; that is to say,
the sun must be about 111 times bigger than the
earth itself, so that the earth being 8000 miles
across, the length across the sun must be something
like 888 thousand miles, which is nearly four times
greater than the distance of the moon from us.â€
CHAPTER XVI,
¢ STAR-DUST.â€
“YT am sure [ have to thank you much, sir, for
explaining all this to me,†said the grateful little
fellow. “But the planets, sir? are they nearer to
the earth than the fixed stars?â€
“Yes, my boy, they form part of what is called
the solar system,†responded the astronomer; “ that
is to say, they all revolve round the sun as their
centre, just as the earth itself does, and, consequently,
they appear to be continually shifting their places
among the stars, which, on the other hand, always
seem to occupy the same positions among one
another in the heavens. Now, what is called the
solar system consists of no less than 50 celestial
bodies, of which the sun is the principal or centre,
so that, regarded as a part of the stellar universe, it
is merely a cluster of stars linked together—the
earth itself forming one, and by no means the largest
of the number.†|
STAR-DUST. «4.48
“Do we live then upon a star, sir?†inquired the
astonished boy.
“Yes, lad; and a very small star, too,†answered
Mr. Blackwater; “for Sirius, which is the principal
star in the constellation of the Great Dog, has been
calculated to be considerably larger than our sun,
so that to an observer in the Dog-star, the sun itself
would dwindle down to a mere bright point, and
the earth be invisible even with the highest magni-
fying power, Well, boy, there are 30 primary orbs
in our system revolving about the sun as planets,
and 20 secondary orbs revolving about these primary
ones as satellites or moons. So that comprising the
sun, our system numbers, as I said, no less than 50
bodies. The little cluster of stars, of which we form
a part, consists of a disc of space 600 million
miles across, with the sun in the centre, and 30
primary orbs, as they are called, circulating at
different distances about him. . You have, I dare
say, noticed the circles formed on a pool when a
stone has been thrown into it. Well, imagine that
pool to be a vast aerial ocean, and the circles upon
it to be immensely larger, so that every inch is
expanded into a million miles, and then those
circles will give you a rough notion of the orbits of
the planets in our system. Now there are 30 such
planets, remember, continually circulating about the
sun, 22 of these being mere fragments of worlds, or
‘asteroids, as they are called, and the other 8 im.
44:4, STAR-DUST.
mense bodies travelling quicker and quicker the
nearer they are to the great central orb ; for Mercury,
which is the nearest of all, is carried along at the
rate of 170 thousand miles an hour, Venus at 80
thousand miles, the Harth at 68 thousand, and so on,
the speed becoming lessand less till we reach Uranus,
whose rate of motion in its orbit is only 15 thousand
milesin the same time.* Consequently Mercury travels
as much quicker than Uranus round its orbit as a
railway train goes faster than a man walking. Then,
again, about some of these primary orbs themselves
there are 20 other secondary orbs or moons always
revolving, the Harth having 1 such attendant, Ju-
pier 4, Saturn 7, Uranus, it is believed, 6, while
* Kepler, the celebrated astronomer of Wirtemberg, was the
first to point out that the squares of the times in which the
planets revolve about the sun, are in the same proportion as the
cubes of their distances. For instance, the periods in which
the Earth and Mars complete their revolutions in their orbits
are respectively 3652°5%*) days, and 686,2225 days, which are
in the proportion of 100, 000 to 188,081, while their distances from
the sun are in round numbers 95,000,000 miles and 144, 000,000
miles, or more accurately, in the proportion of 100,000 to
152,369. Now, it will be found on making the calculation,
that 100,000 (multiplied by itself) is to 188,081 (multiplied by
itself) as 100,000 (multiplied by itself twice over) is to
152,369 (multiplied by itself twice over). That is to say, the
squares of the times in which the planets revolve about the sun
have the same proportion to each other as the cubes of their
distances from that body, so that knowing the time in which any
planet completes its orbit, we can thus arrive at its distance, or
vice versd, knowing its distance, we can deduce its time.
STAR-DOST. aad
Neptune, so far as our knowledge at present leads
us to surmise, has only 2.â€
“You give me thoughts I never had before, sir,â€
said the boy; “and I wish I had nothing else to do
but to study these things, though the numbers of
_ miles you speak of are so large that they quite con-
fuse me.†|
“T dare say they do, my lad,†returned the
astronomer, in a kindly tone. “ But let me see if I
cannot give you a better notion of the solar system,
and the comparative sizes and distances of the
planets by some familiar illustration. Well, then,â€
continued Mr. Blackwater, “we will suppose our-
selves to be in the middle of a large level plain three
miles across. Now, if in the centre of this we were
to place a very big pumpkin, two feet in diameter,
that would represent the Swn,; and then, if at the
distance of rather more than 80 yards, which is about
the length of the aisle of a large church, we were to
place a little ball scarcely bigger than a silk-worm’s
egg, that would give you an idea of the size of |
Mercury in comparison with that of the sun; while
a white currant placed at not quite a hundred yards
from the centre would stand for Venus; and another
currant at the distance of nearly 150 yards, which
. is about the length of the aisle of a large cathedral,
would beatype of our Harth. Mars might be shown
by a coral bead no bigger than a small shot, placed
rather more than 200 yards from the centre, and that
4.46 STAR-DUST.
is about the width of the base of the largest of the
Egyptian pyramids; and the group of asteroids or
little planets by grains of sand placed at 300 or
400 yards —which is rather less than a quarter
of a mile—from our model sun. Jupiter, on
the other hand, would be a good-sized- orange
at nearly half a mile, and Saturn a little orange
at about # of a mile from the central orb,
while Uranus would be exemplified by a crab-apple
at the distance of 11 mile from the centre, and
that is about as far as a balloon ordinarily rises in
the atmosphere.â€
“Qh! thank you, sir,†exclaimed Owen. “TI see
it much plainer now. But how big Jupiter must be
to be like an orange, while Mercury is only the size
of a silkworm’s egg compared with him. But is
this cluster of stars you speak of, sir, and which you
say occupies a space in the heavens 600 million
miles across, a mere speck, after all, in the universe?â€
“Yes, lad,†responded the astronomer, “it most
assuredly is, for some of the fixed stars are so far
distant from us, that, as I said before, their light,
though travelling more than 190,000 miles a
second, would take centuries to reach our eye; for
the beams we see them by, as they appear twinkling
above us in the night, are those which left them
hundreds of years ago.â€
“Oh! that reminds me, sir,†suddenly cried the
boy, as the thought struck him, “that I wanted to
STAR-DUST. 4,47
ask you, if you please, how it was you could tell
that the little Pole-star is so many millions and
millions of miles away from us that we see it every
night in the place where it was fifty years back?
That seemed to me more wonderful than any-
thing you have told me yet, and so astonishing that
I could hardly believe it was possible for people to
be able to find out such things.â€
“IT dare say, my little man,†added Mr. Black-
water; “but it 7s possible now to speak with
accuracy on such matters, and the means by which
the knowledge is attained is one of the greatest dis-
coveries of modern times; and perhaps of any time
whatever. It is arrived at, however, simply by
finding the parallax of the fixed stars, though by a
somewhat different method from that by which I
explained to you the parallax of the sun and moon
was found. You remember I showed you that
we ascertained the distances of the last-mentioned
bodies merely by learning how many degrees, or
parts of a degree, the semi-diameter of the earth
would appear to be extended over, when seen from
them; that is to say, we used the diameter of our
own immense globe as a yard-stick wherewith to
tell the length of the spaces between us and the sun
and moon. But though this measure is no less than
8000 miles long, it serves us only as a guide
for those orbs which are comparatively near us;
but as all things become less and less the farther
443 STAR-DUST.
they are removed from the point of sight, the
semi-diameter of the earth dwindles toa mere mole-
cule, smaller than the motes in a sunbeam when
regarded from a distance like that of the fixed
stars. Accordingly we have to seek for some longer
' tape by which to measure these bodies— some
standard of length so much greater than the other,
that when viewed from the remoteness of the fixed
stars themselves, would appear to extend itself over
some small space at least in the heavens. Sucha
standard then we obtain in the diameter of the
earth’s orbit, which is in round numbers no less
than 190 million miles across. But even this
length, prodigious as it seems to use as a foot-
rule, being nearly 24,000 times greater than the
diameter of the earth itself, shrinks into the dimen-
sions of a grain of seed when applied to the fixed
stars—at such stupendous depth do those orbs lie in
the great celestial ocean which encompasses us! For
so minute does even this immense measure become,
when regarded from the depths of space, that instead
of reckoning by minutes and seconds, as we did with
the diameter of the earth when applied to the sun
and moon, we come to tell our distances from the
fixed stars by thousandth parts of a second, even
though the standard we are applying to them is the
diameter of the earth’s vast orbit itself.â€
“What a way off they must be!†mused the lad
in his wonderment.
STAR-DUST. 4.49 |
“Well, you recollect.†continued the philosopher,
“how we found the parallax of the sun and moon
by expanding the distance between the eyes into
that of the semi-diameter of the earth. We sup-
posed, you know, one eye to be at the centre of our
globe, and one at the surface, and in that manner we
ascertained how far those bodies would appear to be
diverted from their true positions in the heavens ;
while the reason for our placing an eye at the centre
was that it was a fixed point, and accordingly an ob-
server there never shifting his position during the
rotation of the earth, would see the celestial bodies in
their true places. But when we deal with the earth’s
orbit, instead of its mere diameter, we have to
imagine an eye to be placed at the sun itself, since
that is the centre or fixed point of the circle that
our globe describes annually in the heavens; an
observer there would, consequently, see the stars
always in their true positions, while we, regarding
them from one side of such circle, must see them
more or less displaced. If you refer once more to
the diagram illustrating the sun and moon’s parallax
you will at once understand this part of the subject ;*
for you have only to fancy that the circle which
we before used to represent the earth itself to be
the earth’s orbit, and the point c in the centre to
stand now for the sun, while the smaller circle by
* See Engraving, p. 429.
GG
450 STAR-DUST.
which was previously intended for the moon, is
the fixed star whose parallax we are seeking to
measure. Then as the eye at the sun in the centre c
would see that star in its true place, and the eye at
the side of the orbit, as at A, out of its true place, it
is plain that we have only to measure how many
parts of a.degree the star appears to us to be dis-
placed in order to ascertain its parallax—-which, for
the reason I have before given you, would be the
measure of the semi-diameter of the earth’s orbit.
That is to say, we should ascertain by such means how
many parts of adegree, the length of our distance from
the sun, if viewed from that fixed star, would appear
to occupy in space. Now the parallax of the Pole-star,
arrived at by a modification of such means as these, is
found to be only 67 thousandth parts of a second of
a degree. Then portioning the entire circle out into
thousandth parts of a second, we have 1296 million
such parts; and dividing this by 67 (the extent that
the semi-diameter of the earth’s orbit would appear
to occupy if viewed from the Pole-star) we find that
the circumference of the circle of which the Pole-
star 1s the centre, must be in round numbers 194
million times longer than the semi-diameter of the
earth’s orbit. Then dividing this by 3, and halving
the quotient, we obtain the semi-diameter of this
immense circle, and so learn that the Pole-star is no
less than 31. million times our distance from the sun.
This reduced into miles gives us the overwhelming
STAR-DUST. 451
amount of 312 billions for the length of space
between us and the little star which we see twinkling
of a night at the pole of the world.â€
“Oh! goodness!†cried the little fellow, “and
I’ve looked at that beautiful little speck of light
over and over again, and thought it but scarcely
farther from me than some of the jack-o-lanterns
I have seen floating a long way off in the air over
the marshes.â€
“ But the parallax, boy, of only a few fixed stars
has as yet been measured,†went on Mr. Blackwater ;
“those, however, which have been already ascer-
tained, are sufficient to make us marvel at the
vastness of space, and the inconceivable distances
of bodies that we are in the habit of gazing at every
night. When we look at. that beautiful large bril-
liant white star called Vega, at the corner of the
constellation of ‘the Lyre,’ what person—unless
conversant with the reasoning upon which the
knowledge depends—would believe that it was more
than a million times farther from us than we are
removed from the centre of our system? Or who,
gazing at Arcturus—which is the large star that the
eye rests upon when glancing straight from those in
the tail ot ‘the Great Bear’—would think it possible
that the interval between us and it could measure
more than 14 million times our own distance from
the sun? Or, again, that the light which sparkles
from the star in the beak of ‘the Swan’ would take
ag ®
452 STAR-DUST.
10 years to reach the eye; and that the beams from
the star in one of the paws of ‘the Great Bear’
would be no less than 25 years travelling to our
globe, even though the velocity of a ray of light is
such that it darts through 192,000 miles in one
swing of the pendulum ?â€
“ But, sir,†cried Owen, “I cannot make out how
you can tell that light travels at such a rate ?â€
“ That is easily explained,†replied the philosopher,
“and the discovery was made nearly 200 years ago,
by a Danish astronomer named Roemer. ‘You re-
member I told you that Jupiter had 4 moons,
and these as they revolve round the orb are con-
tinually being eclipsed by it. Well, the Dane per-
ceived, on comparing the recorded times of the
eclipses of these moons during many years, that
when the earth, in the course of its revolution
in its orbit, came nearly between the sun and
Jupiter, and so was nearest to the planet, the
eclipses took place some few minutes too soon, that
is to say, they occurred earlier than they should,
according to the calculation of the periods of the
revolutions of those satellites ; whereas the eclipses
which happened when the earth was farthest from
the planet, were always some few minutes later than
they should have been. Accordingly, the Danish
astronomer concluded that to bring the calculations
as to the regular periods for the return of these
eclipses into accordance with the observed facts, an
STAR-DUST. 453
allowance in time must be made of nearly 164
minutes, for when the earth was in that part of its
orbit which was nearest to Jupiter, the eclipses
happened just upon 81 minutes before their regular
time ; and when the earth was at that part of its
orbit that was farthest from the planet, they occurred
about 81 minutes after their regular time. Specula
ting, then, on the probable cause of this phenomenon,
he could see no other mode of accounting for the fact
than the supposition that light, instead of passing
unstantaneously through space, required @ certain
time to dart from one point of the universe to
another. So as it took 164 minutes to pass across
the orbit of the earth—and that you know is 190
million of miles in length—why it must travel at
the rate of 192,000 miles a second ; a velocity so
great that it startled many when the matter was
first propounded, and made them hesitate to receive
the explanation as truth until it had obtained
some confirmation. Such confirmation, however,
has been afforded it—and that of the most indis-
putable kind—in the after discovery of the prin-
, ciple of “aberration.†Accordingly we now know that
a ray in leaving a particular star must occupy a
certain time in travelling through the space between
the earth and it, and though the velocityof light is
such as to be almost inconceivable, still we have mea-
sured the rate of motion, among other principles as
subtle as light itself, and found that electricity travels
454 STAR-DUST.
along a wire with a speed that exceeds that of light
through planetary space: this, too, remember, is the
power we now use to transmit our messages from one
part of the earth to the other, with even a greater
rapidity than the beams of the little Pole-star come
twinkling to our eyes of a night, revealing it to us
where vt was some half century ago. But here isa
. drawing that will make the eclipses of Jupiter’s
satellites, and the facts upon which the velocity of
light depends, still more plain to you.†Whereupon
the astronomer taking another volume from the book
shelves, set the following illustration before the boy
JUPITER &
SATELLITES
STAR-DUST. 455
“Oh! that’s the Sun in the middle, I suppose,
sir?†remarked the lad, as he eyed the picture up
and down; “and the balls round the circle about
the Sun, stand for the Harth in different parts of its
orbit ; don’t they, if you please, sir?â€
« Yes, youre quite right,†returned Mr. Black-
water; “and as the earth makes the tour of its -
orbit in twelve months, the balls; as you call them,
represent the positions that our globe would occupy
every two months throughout the year. Now, the
straight lines which divide the circle into six
triangles are all of the same length, for those
triangles are what are termed equilateral, or equal-
sided ones. Consequently, the lines connecting the
six. different points round the circle are exactly
equal to the lines drawn from the circumference to
the centre. So that when our globe in the course
of its revolution in its orbit has passed from any
one of those points to another, it will have moved
through a part of space which, if measured in a
straight line, would be exactly equal to its distance
from the sun. The figure at the top of the drawing
represents the planet Jupiter, with its nearer side
iulumined by the rays of the sun, while the farther
one is in darkness, and projects a shadow behind it,
just as a house does with the sun shining upon it;
and those little dots placed round the four circles
that encompass the planet, are intended for the four
moons circulating about it. One of these you per-
456 STAR-DUST.
ceive—that which is the nearest of all to J/upiter—is
about to enter the shadow, and so to be eclipsed by
it, or, what is the same thing, obscured from our
sight. This moon is about 350 miles greater in
diameter than our own, and about 20,000 miles
nearer to Jupiter, while it revolves round the
planet in little more than 13 days. Accordingly,
since it completes its revolution about the orb in
just upon 424 hours, it is evident that interval of
- time should elapse between the moments of its en-
tering or quitting the shadow of the planet in the
course of any two successive revolutions. But it is
found, as the earth passes from the point of its orbit
that is farthest from Jupiter (see fig. 6 in engrav-~
ing,) to the point which is nearest to it, (see fig. 3),
the satellite appears to enter the shadow some few
minutes sooner than it should, according to the
rate of its revolution; while as the earth passes
from the point of its orbit nearest to Jupiter to
that farthest from it, the satellite, on the other
hand, appears to quit the shadow some few minutes
later than it ought. For instance, suppose the
earth to be at the point of its orbit marked 1
on the Ist of June, and the precise period of the
satellite's entering the shadow of the planet to be
noted ; it would then be found, on the earth’s reaching
the 2nd point, two months afterwards, on the 1st
of August, that the immersion of the satellite into
Jupiter's shadow would occur 84 minutes earlier
:
f
|
|
|
(
|
|
STAR- DUST. | 457.
than it did on the lst of June. Whereas, when
the earth reached the 5th point in its orbit—and it
would do this about the 1st of February—the satel-
lite would be seen to emerge from the planet’s
shadow 81 minutes later than it did when the earth
was at the 4th point, two months before. Now, boy,
as the straight lines connecting these several points
are exactly equal to the earth’s distance from the sun,
it is plain—since the light, or first gleam, caught
from the satellite after its quitting the planet's
shadow took 84 minutes longer to reach the eye at
the 5th point of the earth’s orbit than it did at the
4th, and the distance between those places measured
in a straight line amounts to 95 million miles—it is
plain, I say, that the light must have travelled
through that space at the rate of 192,000 miles a
second.
“There now, boy,†added Mr. Blackwater, “T’ve
told you how to measure the distance, and to reckon |
the sizes of the sun, moon, and planets—and I have
told you, moreover, how the lengths of the infinitely
‘ greater spaces between us and the fixed stars are
arrived at, explaining to you how some of the little
points of light with which the sky sparkles at night-
time, are so far removed from us that the mind is
unable to conceive their distances as reckoned in
miles, and therefore they are usually expressed in the
number of years that their rays occupy in coming
from them to us—even though light itself travels so
458 STAR-DUST.
swiftly that it would flash through the long interval
that separates the moon from us, in but little more
time than is occupied by one tick of the clock.â€
_ Owen once more expressed his gratitude to the
astronomer for the many wonderful things he had
explained to him; and as he grew to know him
better, he got to speak to him more frankly; while
the philosopher's aversion to a stranger, which had
become less and less as he found the uneducated
boy evince so lively an interest in the subjects with
which he himself was deeply engrossed, had given
place almost to a liking for the lad. Consequently,
when the discourse about the stars was finished, Mr.
Blackwater began to question Owen as to how he
had learnt all he knew, and listened with no little
delight as the boy ran over to him all the experi-
ments he had made about the lever, and how he had
contrived his humble apparatus of beads for ascer-
taining the figures of the contellations. Nor did the
little fellow forget to tell Mr. Blackwater about the
clock he had constructed, and the difficulty he had in
finding a substitute for a bell, and how at last he
had made his timepiece strike the hours on the
neck of a broken bottle. The boy, too, told all
these things so simply and modestly, that though
the philosopher was little given to sympathy, he
could not help feeling, when he heard them, that 16
“was a pity so ingenious and thoughtful a lad should
be destined to a life of manual labour. The Ag-
STAR-DUST. 459
tronomer, however, assured the boy that any books
he wanted to read he should have from his public
library, provided he would take great care of them;
and he wrote down, at Owen’s request, the names
of some of the best treatises for him to begin his
studies with. |
CHAPTER XVII.
THE MONSTER EYE.
WHEN it was dusk, the Astronomer led the boy
to the top of the hill where the great telescope
stood, and explained to him how it was merely a
large pupil admitting some two feet, instead of a
mere eighth of an inch, of light to the eye, and
telling him how the longitude of stars was measured
by time the same as the longitude of places on the
earth. And when the tube was pointed to the
moon, he let Owen peep through it and see the
brilliant white disc shining through it like an
immense plate of frosted silver.
As the boy gazed at the lovely orb, he could not
speak, and scarcely breathed for wonderment. At
first he could hardly believe he was looking on the
moon, so vast did the image appear to him; but
when he had assured himself of the fact, and the .
first feeling of amazement had in a measure sub-
sided, he began to ask the Astronomer what. the
dark spots were supposed to be. |
THE MONSTER EYE. 461
Then Mr. Blackwater charmed the lad still more
by telling him that the spots on the surface of the
orb were the shadows of mountains and the mouths
of caverns; saying they were known to be such by
the fact that when the sun was rising or setting to
them the shadows became longer as they do with
us on the earth; and as the sun’s altitude increased
to those parts their shadows grew shorter until the
moon was full, when they disappeared altogether.
Then the Astronomer pointed out to the enchanted
boy a spot on the moon’s disc that was called “Mount
Newton,†and another named “Mount Leibnitz,†and
“ Autolycus,†and “ Aristarchus,†and “ Helvetius,â€
and “Gassendi,†telling him the while that from the
measurement of the shadows to the lunar mountains,
astronomers had found that the highest peak in the
-moon was 13 mile high. After this he ran over to
the boy the names of the several large dark patches,
telling him that the one near the western edge of
the orb was called the “Crisian Sea,†and that at the
upper part of the eastern side the “Sea of Showers,â€
while the one below it was termed the “Ocean of
Storms ;†though these, he added, are now known
to be no seas at all, but merely immense plains that
are less enlightened by the sun’s rays. Next he drew
the lad’s attention to a chain of lunar mountains
called the Apennines, and pointed out to him how
the tops of all the peaks were shaped like cups, and
were therefore supposed to be the craters of volcanoes,
462 THE MONSTER EYE,
In a few minutes the telescope was turned to
Saturn, and the boy was shown the planet with its
retinue of moons, and its broad ring with the shadow
of it striping the body of the orb itself, which was like-
wise streaked with belts. Owen gazed with ecstasy
upon the wondrous orb; and Mr. Blackwater told
him the while how some of the old astronomers had
fancied that the luminous girdle round Saturn was
the tail of a comet, which the attraction of the orb
had drawn to it and compelled to circulate about it ;
and how another astronomer had asserted that
Saturn was originally as big as the outside of the
ring itself, but that by some means the outer shell
of the planet had been broken to pieces and fallen
in upon the body, while the part of the shell at the
equator remained entire, and so formed a ring
about it; while a third had supposed that the ring
was a part of the equator of the planet, which had
been thrown off from it owing to the rate at which
it turned round on its axis, in the same manner
as water flies out from a mop that is rapidly
trundled. Mr. Blackwater added, however, that we
might as well attempt to account for the formation
of Saturn’s satellites as that of its ring; and that
the wisest astronomers now-a-days could only say |
that the ring was created to answer some important
purpose (since nothing was made uselessly), though
‘what that purpose was none had yet been able to
discover. |
wy
THE MONSTER EYE. 463
After this the little fellow had a peep at Jupiter
with his belts, and beheld the eclipse of one of those
moons from which the velocity of light had been
discovered; and, last of all, the telescope was. dis
rected to the Milky Way, and there the boy beheld —
that which before had appeared a mere wreath of
luminous vapour resolved into such a profusion of
stars, that he was overwhelmed with the splendour
and beauty of the sight. As the lad still gazed
with rapture at the mass of glittering orbs, Mr.
Blackwater informed him that one who was the
greatest astronomer, perhaps, that had ever lived,
had calculated that a portion of the Milky Way—
about 10° long and 24° broad—contained no less
than 258,000 stars; being so thickly strewn
with worlds, that a disc the size of our moon would
cover as many as 2000 of them at one time.
Whereupon Owen asked how many stars of the
different magnitudes had been counted in the
heavens. :
Mr. Blackwater informed the boy that there
were only about 20 stars of the first magnitude and
but 60 odd of the second, while of the third there
were about 200; and that as the stars got less in
brilliance the numbers increased very rapidly, so
that down to the seventh magnitude the whole |
number of stars that had been already registered
amounted to nearly 20,000. “Beyond the seventh
magnitude, however,†he added, “the telescopic
464 THE MONSTER EYE.
stars—as those which are invisible to the naked
eye are called—may be considered to be infinite
in number, for there are spots in the heavens go
thickly powdered over with orbs, that one might
as well attempt to count the number of particles
that make up the bloom on a plum, as to endeavour
to bring the orbs which, in some parts, lie thick
as motes in a sunbeam, within the compass of
figures.â€
Then the Astronomer pointed out to the boy
how, in those parts of the firmament where the
stars were set far apart, there was always a dark
background to be seen, and which, when the tele-
Scope was pointed to it, revealed no light or lumi-
nous mist shining in the far distance. He showed
him, too, how, as we passed our eye along towards
the Milky Way, the smaller stars became thicker
and thicker about that part of the heavens, until in
the Milky Way itself they were so condensed to-
gether, that even with the highest powers of the
telescope it was impossible to separate them and see
the dark background of infinite space frowning
between them. “It was for this reason,†he added,
“that Sir William Herschel suggested that the
universe of worlds, of which our system forms but a
mere point, has a form and definite arrangement, of
which the Milky Way is the luminous boundary
encircling our sun and its little group of planets
like an immense jewelled ring.â€
THE MONSTER EYE. © 468
The night was now fast advancing, and. Owen,
though he could have stayed there for hours gazing
through that wondrous tube at the glittering glories
of the starry heavens, grew fearful lest. those at
home should become alarmed at his absence... Ac-
cordingly, the boy expressed his regret at. being
obliged to leave.. The Astronomer, however, would
not allow him +40 depart till he had shown him the .
figure that was now considered to be the shape-of
the universe; and when they had returned to the
library, Mr. Blackwater took down a volume. and.
displayed the annexed illustration to the lad’s view.
466 THE MONSTER EYE.
“There, boy,†said the philosopher, “you behold
what-is believed to be the form of the starry boun-
daries of the vast multitude of worlds with which
the endless plains of space are set—thick as the
sand in the Desert ; for though some of these orbs
may appear to our puny senses to lie millions and
millions of miles apart from each other, to the All-
seeing, it has been well said, ‘the whole Universe
may be as one plain, the distance between planet
and planet being only as the pores in a grain of
sand, and the spaces between system and system no
greater than the intervals between one grain and
the grain adjacent.’ â€
CHAPTER XVITTS.
THE BOY LOSES HIS BEST FRIEND.
On the boy’s return home he learnt from his father
that poor old Captain Jones was not expected to
live many hours, and that the doctor and lawyer had
been with him all the evening. It was said in the
village that Parson Wynn, too, had been sent for.
This was sorry and unexpected news to the little
fellow ; and though his mind during the ride home
had been full of the wonders he had seen and heard,
and he had busied himself in remembering the many
marvellous things he had to tell his father and the
Captain, as well as in fancying to himself how
pleased-the old sailor would be to hear that Mr.
Blackwater had been so kind to him, neverthe-
less, when the lad was acquainted with the sad
change that had taken place, his heart was so full of
grief that he could think of nothing else.
Nor could the little fellow rest that night until
he had gone towards the Captain’s cottage and
I i 2
465 THE BOY LOSES HIS BEST FRIEND.
assured himself that the light was still burning in
the sick man’s chamber.
The first thing, too, the boy did in the morning
was to steal up again to the cottage, in the hope of
gaining some tidings about his friend, and he
loitered about to catch some one leaving the house,
for he lacked the heart to go to the door.
After waiting about the gate some little while,
Owen was delighted to see Betty Wynn come down
the gravel walk, and no sooner did the girl catch
sight of the little fellow, than she beckoned him
hastily to her, saying, “she was just going up the
village for him, as Captain Jones was anxious to see
him once more.â€
Lhe words “once more,†sounded like a death-
Knell in the boy’s ear, and the tears flooded his eyes
and choked his speech, so that he said not a word,
but held the girl tightly by the hand as she led him
to the room.
Owen walked on tiptoe to the bedside, and
looked upon the feeble old man through his
tears.
The invalid raised his eyelids for a moment and
smiled as he saw the little fellow standing by his
side.
“ Put your head near the pillow, Owey,†whispered
Betty, “he may wish to speak to you.â€
_ The lad did as he was bidden.
“Was Mr. kind to you?†mumbled the
THE BOY LOSES HIS BEST FRIEND. — 469
old man, as he waved his hand to show he could not
recall the name of Blackwater.
Owen nodded assent, for he could scarcely speak.
At length, however, he stifled his sobs sufficiently to
whisper, “ Very—very kind, sir.â€
“YT am glad of it, for your sake, boy,†muttered
the invalid. “He can be a good friend to you when
†and, as he said so, he raised his hand to-
wards the boy.
“He wants you to take it,†said Betty softly to
the weeping lad.
3 e
I’m gone;
Owen placed the old man’s palm gently in his
own, and bowing his head pressed it softly but fondly
to his lips. .
“Bless you! bless you!†said the old sailor ina
faint voice, “ You'll think of me, boy, sometimes ?
And you will study hard and be a great man one
day—and you'll be good to little Peg, and watch
over and protect her, as L would have done had
God spared me.â€
The little fellow could only bow his head in
reply.
“ We shall meet again, Owen—again, Owen.†The
old man was too exhausted to say any more, and
raising his finger pointed to the skies.
“ You had better go now, Owey dear,†said Betty
in the boy’s ear, “the doctor will be here directly.
He has been staying in the village to be near at
hand during the night.â€
470 THE BOY LOSES HIS BEST FRIEND.
The little fellow lingered, as he took what he felt
would be a last look of his good friend, and Betty
was about to drag him from the bedside, when she
noticed the invalid’s lps move again. ‘“ He has
something else to say,†she whispered to the boy.
Owen bent his head down to the pillow once
more, and could just catch the sound of “I wish I
was like you, boy. with a whole life before me, and
ail my deeds to perform over again. What fine
things I'd do then! Think you of that
of that, and never doa thing you would wish undone
think you
in after life. Remember what I say, Owen,—re-
member |â€
Betty at length led the sobbing boy from the
room, and when he had quitted the cottage, he
stole away to some unfrequented spot, and wept in
secret over the kindhearted old man. All the day
long, too, he kept returning continually to the
cottage and inquiring of Mrs. Pugh, whenever he
could catch sight of her, how the Captain was
then.
At daybreak the next morning, the little fellow
was off to the old sailor’s cottage once more to
learn from the housekeeper how he had passed the
night. |
At the gate stood Mrs. Pugh and old Betty
Watkin, and Mrs. Pritchard, the labourer’s wife,
‘and little Mrs. Price, of the shop, and the clothier’s
tall dame, who had just run up from the mill. And
THE BOY LOSES HIS BEST FRIEND. 471
as the boy caught sight of the group, his heart sank
in his bosom. ,
Then as he glanced up at the window of the sick
_ man’s chamber he beheld the shutters closed, and
he knew in a moment that he had lost his best
friend. |
CHAPTER XIX.
THE FIRST AND LAST LAY.
Tue old sailor was laid in the patch of ground
adjoining the little mountain church; end the day
of his burial was the saddest that had long been
known at Llanvach. The village children, to whom
his kindness to the young had long endeared him,
all followed the coffin to the grave; and the parents
were there too, for they had long loved the old man
for his love of their little ones.
But of all the sad throng, Owen Evans was the
saddest, and, in obedience to the Captain’s last
request, he and his little sister Peg headed the
funeral train. |
When the band of mourners hal returned te
the tenantless cottage, the lawyer fmm Builth pro-
ceeded to read the will of the deparied man. Nor
was Mrs. Pugh absent from the listing company,
for she was all anxiety to learn how her late master
had provided for her, and almost asured herself—
THE FIRST AND LAST LAW. 473
as the Captain had no one belonging to him in the
world—that the whole or greater part of his pro-
perty would come to her, for she could understand
no prior claim to her own.
To the dame’s utter astonishment, however, she
found that the old gentleman had bequeathed
her only a year’s wages beyond the quarter due to
her, while the bulk of his little property, amounting
¢o some 400/. a year, he had left to Parson Wynn and
Mr. Blackwater, in trust for his “ adopted children,â€
Owen and Peggy Evans. He had made, too, a
special request to Mr. Blackwater, in the docu-
ment, that he would watch over the boy and direct
his education. While to the Parson’s daughters
he willed a small annuity, as a remuneration for
their future care of little Pee.
On the evening of that day, Owen, who had re-
turned home with Mr. Wynn, sat with him at the
chimney corner of the Parsonage, talking over the
many kindnesses the Captain had done him, when
the clergyman, thinking it a fii opportunity to
impress the lad with some of the high truths
that mere physical science cannot teach directly
—though it may enable the mind to reason the
more surely about them—took occasion to ask
the boy whether he had ever thought as to what
proofs there were concerning the existence of the
soul after death.
47 4 THE FIRST AND LAST LAW.
The lad confessed he had never done so, adding
that he should much like to hear them.
“Well,†said the Parson, “it is the first law of
force, that a body once set in motion by it will go
on for ever—unless there be some external cause to
step it. A ball projected into space would roll on
to all eternity, in the same direction as that in which
it was originally impelled, were there nothing beside
it to alter its course, or retard its progress.â€
“Would it, sir?†was all the boy said; for Owen’s
heart was still too full to talk, though he was glad
to listen in order to divert his thoughts.
“Yes, Owen, it would,†went on the clergyman,
“for no force diminishes or dies of itself; that is to
say, there is no principle of decay or death within it,
and to cease, it must be operated upon by external
causes. Bodies in motion on the earth are brought
to a state of rest by the operation of forces
antagonistic to their own—such as the resistance of
the air, and the friction of the substances over
which they pass; but, could these be destroyed, they
would continue moving to the end of time. The
earth, however, in its rotation on its axis, meets with
no such impediment, and the consequence is, that
its rate of motion is the same now as it was cen- _
turies ago ; for each day measured by the passages of
the stars is found to be so precisely of the same length
that, according to the calculations of Laplace—
THE FIRST AND LAST LAW. 475
one of the most profound among mathematicians—~
it is impossible that a difference of 100th of a second
of time should have obtained between the duration
of the days in the earliest ages and those of the
present era.â€
“Indeed, sir!†briefly remarked the melancholy
lad. | |
“So you see, my boy,†proceeded Mr. Wynn, “a
force, once generated, has a tendency to continue for
ever without decay of its power, and would so con-
tinue, were there nothing external to itself to
diminish or destroy it.â€
“Yes, I see, sir,†added the boy.
“Well,†continued the Parson, “life in its vege-
‘ative quality is a mere force of accretion—a subtle
and mysterious power that enables the living body
to collect to itself those elements that are fitted for
its nutrition, and to assimilate them with its own
substance ; while human life consists not only in
the accretion of material particles but of experiences
and intuitions. That is to say, as our bodies are
made up of a collection of solid atoms, which the
vegetative force has drawn to itself, so our minds
consist of an aggregation of ideas and emotions
derived from the operations of the spiritual force,
and connected together, so as to form a distinct in-
dividual consciousness. Now there is a law apper-
taining to our mental constitution that is as won-
476 THE FIRST AND LAST LAW.
derful as any of those regulating the world without
us; for the same sequence of cause and effect as pre-
vails in external nature is also found to obtain in
the world within us. This is what is called the law
of the succession of ideas; and strange as it may
sound to you, Owen, nota thought starts unbidden to
the mind, which is not the consequence of some other
thought or feeling that has immediately preceded it,
and which, in its turn, suggests or calls up another;
and so the train of memories, reasonings, and fancies
is carried on. It is a necessary result then of this
principle of the causation of thought, or the natural
tendency of one conception to excite in the mind
another that is associated with it, either in time, or
in place, or that is like or opposed to it—I say it is
a necessary result of this principle that the sequence
of ideas should continue for ever (in the same manner
as the motion of a sphere once projected in space
would go on to all eternity) wnless there be some exter-
nal cause to stop it; for the mental force has, like the
other, no principle of death or decay within itself, but
cather contains the elements of endless progression.â€
The boy nodded assent.
“The question then becomes, my little man,â€
added Mr. Wynn, “what cause is there for the
stoppage of the operation of this mental principle
when once started in a human being? Can death put
‘an end to it?â€
Owen looked anxiously at the clergyman as he
THE FIRST AND LAST LAW. 477
awaited his answer, though the word brought the
tears again to hiseyes.
“Let us see,†continued Mr. Wynn, “what oc-
curs at such a time, asserting nothing farther than
the facts will strictly warrant. Death, then, is the
cessation of vegetative existence; that is to say, the
force of accretion which enabled the body to collect
and assimilate to itself the substances that were fitted
for its nutrition has come to an end—been stopped
by some external cause—and no longer has the
power to prevent the chemical forces without from
resolving the atoms, of which that body is made
up, Into their parent gases and dust. With us,
however, death is something still more than. this ;
for that same body was fitted with many wondrous
organs, by which the being within was rendered
susceptible of being affected by the things outside of
him, and of affecting them in return. He could
see, hear, feel, and have every other evidence his
senses afforded him of the existence of external
objects ; and, moreover, he could move his limbs,
and express his thoughts at will. But in death, this
faculty of sensation and muscular action being derived
from the organs that formed part of his body, ceased
with the force that held the particles of that body ~
together ; and accordingly the being, whom we have
known while living, has, when the vital functions
have ended, no longer the power to look upon us, or
hear our voice, or feel the pressure of our hand;
478 | THE FIRST AND LAST LAW.
neither can he talk to us, nor by the motion of his
muscles evince any signs of pleasure or pain. In sleep,
the same insensibility to external objects prevails,
though to a less degree; still we know that in our
dreams during that state the succession of thought
may continue, even when outward consciousness has
ceased. This, then, adhering strictly to the facts, and
asserting no more, as I sad before, than the circwum-
stances will warrant, is all that we can state of death
—the spirit, which during life was capable of being
affected by, and of affecting external objects, through
the organs of the body, is no longer able to hold com-
munion, by such means, with the world without, when
the force that held together the particles of that body
has come to an end. Can we then, consistently with
the rules of strict reasoning, assert that, because the
force which bound the material atoms into one
frame has been dissipated, therefore the other force,
which linked the ideas into one individual conscious-
ness, has been destroyed? Now it cannot be said
that these two forces are one and the same, or that
the principle of the association of ideas is identi-
cal with that of organic existence ; for the laws
which link thought to thought are w no way
connected with the organs of the body, but proceed
From the very nature of the ideas themselves—since
one conception calls up another in the mind, because,
as I have said, it is associated with the other by
some peculiar relation, and not from any ORGANIC
THE FIRST AND LAST LAW. 479
connemon between them.* The law of the sequence
of thought, therefore, is a separate and distinct law
from that of mere organism, being the law of
spiritual life, and the other that of pure material
existence; while the spiritual law contains within
itself no element of cessation, but rather that of
endurance to all eternity.â€
“ But, Mr. Wynn,†asked the boy, “do we always
think ?â€
“ Perhaps not,†answered the minister, “for it is
but natural that these two forces being knit
together in the same frame, the one should operate
upon, and impede the functions of the other ; for
as two opposing forces produce rest, it is quite pos-
sible that the organic force may, in certain states of
* That organism is necessary for the original production of
sensations and ideas, there cannot be the least doubt. Those
who are born deaf, or blind, can have no notion of sound or
colour, for wanting the organ upon which the ideas primarily
depend, the mind has no power to form any conception of such
things. But though organism is necessary for the original pro-
duction of impressions, it is by no means necessary for the
re-production of them. BEETHOVEN ccmposing his finest music,
after he had lost his hearing, is overpowering evidence of this;
proving to us that, though the organ on which the faculty origi-
nally depended was dead, the soul of the m«sisian contained
within itself the principle of reproducing the impressiuns divesied
of any such organic apparatus. Ifthen it be possible for the
soul to revive the ideas derived from one organ, after that organ
is destroyed, why cannot the soul recal the impressions of every.
other organ when the whole organic arrangement of our bodies
is at an end? |
480 THE FIRST AND LAST LAW.
the body, be so far in antagonism with the spiritual
power as to bring it into abeyance for the time
being. Accordingly, in states of what is called
‘coma, or perfect insensibility, we have no evidence
of the mind being in operation ; though at the same
time we have no evidence that it is not in operation.
But, even admitting that the succession of ideas is
broken and stopped during certain conditions of the
body, still this affords us no proof that such an effect
occurs at death, but is rather an evidence that, when
the control of the organic force is at an end, the
spiritual power will continue with increased energy.
For two opposing forces can only produce rest, while
each of them remains in operation, but destroy or
remove one—and the other must instantly start
forward on its destined course, with all the energy
that was originally impressed upon it by the Prime
Mover. Even as the bow that, when strained back by
the strong arm of the archer, remains bent so long
as the greater force is upon it; but immediately the
archer’s grip 18 relaxed, it springs again into its
original state, speeding the winged arrow far into
the skies. Or, look here, boy,†added the Parson,
“T press a finger of each hand hard against one
another, and let me use what force I will, a state of .
mere rest is the consequence ; but remove the one
which controlled the action of the other, and away
that other darts with ail the power that I had im-
pressed upon it. So you see, lad, though it is quite
THE FIRST AND LAST LAW. 481
possible for the body to impede the action of the
spirit, even so far as to make it appear to be alto-
gether dead and inert, still, take away the opposing
force of that body, and then the spirit must in-
stantly fly from it, quickened with all the impulses
that were originally given to it by the Great Power
above.†|
11
|
|
CHAPTER XxX.
CONCLUSION.
Nor long after the incidents detailed in the fore-
going chapters, Owen Evans took up his abode in
Mr. Blackwater’s house, so that his education might
be conducted under the eye of the philosopher, who
had grown, by closer acquaintance with the boy, to
entertain so high an opinion of his genius, and to
have such great hopes of his adding one day to the
circle of knowledge, that, in compliance with the
Captain’s last request, Mr. Blackwater deemed it ©
better that the lad should remain under his roof
until the tutor he engaged for him had fitted him
for the higher course of studies at one of the
Universities.
Little Peggy, his sister, was removed to the Par-
sonage, where Betty and Lucy Wynn watched over
the child with all the tenderness of which their
gentle natures were capable; whilst Davy Evans,
| whom Owen had sufficiently provided for cut of his
CONCLUSION. | 433
portion to enable to cease work, had gone to live
at a cottage near the Wynns, where he amused
himself with his lathe, making toys for the little ones
round about, and turning needle-cases and tobacco-
stoppers, and rolling-pins, for his friends, and bowls
and skittles for the villagers.
Nor must John Jarman, the blacksmith’s boy, be
forgotten. At the end of his first voyage he returned
to Llanvach with his “ pay,†and this was just suffi-
cient to rescue the forge that was about to be sold
for rent, and to save his mother from being deprived
of herhome; for since the boy’s departure the intem-
perate habits of his father had grown worse—indeed,
the lad found his parent a mere wreck of a man
from his continual indulgence in drink. The black-
smith boy is now master of the village forge,
mending the ploughs and making new tires for the
wheels of the wagons, and shoeing the cart-horses,
for miles round—not forgetting “Jessie,†the Parson’s
mare, and “old Jack,†the donkey, who now share
together, it should be added, the grass and windfalls
from the apple-trees in Parson Wynn’s orchard.
Owen, in his new life, did not fail to remember
his friend the clothier, and bis former master,
farmer Powell of the hills; for whenever he could ©
steal time enough from his studies, he would pay
a visit to the mill and listen, with as much delight
as ever, to Roger Wilkins’s stories about inven-
tions and discoveries; and then hurry on to the
CONCLUSION, 484
mountain farm, where there was no more welcome
visitor, and where the simple-minded farmer and
his girls would sit agape with wonder as they made
the lad tell them all he had been doing about the
stars of late. Nor did the old farmer fail to
exclaim as usual, when the boy had taken his
_ departure, “Her will be a wonderful man some
day—Aer will. �
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