At present the shortest time that can, so to speak, be photographed

in this manner is about one two-millionth of a second. This is the

time of propagation of a magnetic wave over four hundred feet long.

The waves used in wireless telegraphy are not more than four feet in

length--about one hundredth the length of those we can photograph.

The photographic method thus reveals a mechanism of the spark which

is entirely hidden from the eye and will always be concealed from

human sight. It reveals, however, a greater mystery which it seems

incompetent to solve--the mystery of what is called the pilot spark,

the first discharge which we see on our photograph (Fig. 9) stretching

intact from terminal to terminal, having the prodigious velocity of one

hundred and eighty thousand miles a second. None of our experimental

devices suffice to penetrate the mystery of this discharge. It is this

pilot spark which is chiefly instrumental in sending out the magnetic

pulses or waves which are powerful enough to reach forty or fifty

miles. The preponderating influence of this pilot spark--so called

since it finds a way for the subsequent surgings or oscillations--is

a bar to the efforts to make wireless telegraphy secret. We can see

from the photograph how much greater its strength is than that of the

subsequent discharges shown by the mere brightening of the terminals.

A delicate coherer will immediately respond to the influence of this

pilot spark, and the subsequent oscillations of this discharge will

have little effect. How, then, can we effectively time a receiving

circuit so that it will respond to only one sending station? We can not

depend upon the oscillatory nature of the spark, or adopt, in other

words, its rate of vibration and form a coherer with the same rate.

It seems as if it would be necessary to invent some method of sending

pilot sparks at a high and definite rate of vibration, and of employing

coherers which will only respond to definite powerful rates of magnetic

pulsation. Various attempts have been made to produce by mechanical

means powerful electric surgings, but they have been unsuccessful. Both

high electro-motive force and strength of current are needed. These can

be obtained by the employment of a great number of storage cells. The

discharge from a large number of these cells, however, is not suitable

for the purpose of wireless telegraphy, although it may possess the

qualifications of both high electrical pressure and strength of current.

The only apparatus we have at command to produce quick blows on the

ether is the Ruhmkorf coil. This coil, I have said, has been in all our

physical cabinets for fifty years. It contained within itself the germ

of the telephone transmitter and the method of wireless telegraphy,

unrecognized until the present. In its elements it consists, as we have

seen, of two electrical circuits, placed near each other, entirely

unconnected. A battery is connected with one of these circuits, and

any change in the strength of the electrical current gives a blow to

the ether or medium between the two circuits. A quick stopping of the

electrical current gives the strongest impulse to the ether, which

is taken up by the neighboring circuit. For the past fifty years

very little advance has been made in the method of giving strong

electrical impulses to the medium of space. It is accomplished simply

by a mechanical breaking of the connection to the battery, either by

a revolving wheel with suitable projections, or by a vibrating point.

All the various forms of mechanical breaks are inefficient. They do not

give quick and uniform breaks. Latterly, hopes have been excited by the

discovery of a chemical break, called the Weynelt interrupter, shown in

Fig. 1. The electrical current in passing through a vessel of diluted

sulphuric acid from a point of platinum to a disk of lead causes

bubbles of gas which form a barrier to its passage which is suddenly

broken down, and this action goes on at a high rate of speed, causing

a torrent of sparks in the neighboring circuit. The medium between

the two circuits is thereby submitted to rapid and comparatively

powerful impulses. The discovery of this and similar chemical or

molecular interruptions marks an era in the history of the electrical

transformer, and the hopes of further progress by means of them is far

greater than in the direction of mechanical interruptions.

We are still, however, unable to generate sufficiently powerful and

sufficiently well-timed electrical impulses to make wireless telegraphy

of great and extended use. Can we not hope to strengthen the present

feeble impulses in wireless telegraphy by some method of relaying or

repeating? In the analogous subject of telephony many efforts have

also been made to render the service secret, and to extend it to great

distances by means of relays. These efforts have not been successful up

to the present. We still have our neighbors' call bells, and we could

listen to their messages if we were gossips. The telephone service

has been extended to great distances--for instance, from Boston to

Omaha--not by relays, but by strengthening the blows upon the medium

between the transmitting circuit and the receiving one, just as we

desire to do in what is called wireless telegraphy, the apparatus of

which is almost identical in principle to that employed in telephony.

The individual call in telephony is not a success for nearly the same

reasons that exist in the case of wireless telegraphy. Perfectly

definite and powerful rates of vibration can not be sent from point to

point over wires to which only certain definite apparatus will respond.

There are so many ways in which the energy of the electric current can

be dissipated in passing over wires and through calling bells that the

form of the waves and their strength becomes attenuated. The form of

the electrical waves is better preserved in free space, where there

are no wires or where there is no magnetic matter. The difficulty

in obtaining individual calls in wireless telegraphy resides in the

present impossibility of obtaining sufficiently rapid and powerful

electrical impulses, and a receiver which will properly respond to a

definite number of such impulses.

The question of a relay seems as impossible of solution as it does in

telephony. The character of speech depends upon numberless delicate

inflections and harmonies. The form, for instance, of the wave

transmitting the vowel _a_ must be preserved in order that the sound

may be recognized. A relay in telephony acts very much like one's

neighbor in the game called gossip, in which a sentence repeated more

or less indistinctly, after passing from one person to another, becomes

distorted and meaningless. No telephone relay has been invented which

preserves the form of the first utterance, the vowel _a_ loses its

delicate characteristics, and becomes simply a meaningless noise. It is

maintained by some authorities that such a relay can not be invented,

that it is impossible to preserve the delicate inflections of the

human voice in passing from one circuit to another, even through an

infinitesimal air gap or ether space. It is well, however, to reflect

upon Hosea Bigelow's sapient advice "not to prophesy unless you know."

It was maintained in the early days of the telephone that speech would

lose so many characteristics in the process of transmission over wires

and through magnetic apparatus that it would not be intelligible.

It is certain that at present long-distance transmission of speech

can only be accomplished by using more powerful transmitters, and by

making the line of copper better fitted for the transmission--just as

quick transportation from place to place has not been accomplished by

quitting the earth and by flying through space, but by obtaining more

powerful engines and by improving the roadbeds.

The hopes of obtaining a relay for wireless telegraphy seem as small

as they do in telephony. The present method is practically limited to

distances of fifty or sixty miles--distances not much exceeding those

which can be reached by a search-light in fair weather. Indeed, there

is a close parallelism between the search-light and the spark used in

Marconi's experiments: both send out waves which differ only in length.

The waves of the search-light are about one forty-thousandth of an

inch long, while the magnetic waves of the spark, invisible to the

eye, are three to four feet--more than a million times longer than the

light waves. These very long waves have this advantage over the short

light waves: they are able to penetrate fog, and even sand hills and

masonry. One can send messages into a building from a point outside. A

prisoner could communicate with the outer world, a beleaguered garrison

could send for help, a disabled light-ship could summon assistance, and

possibly one steamer could inform another in a fog of its course.

Wireless telegraphy is the nearest approach to telepathy that has

been vouchsafed to our intelligence, and it serves to stimulate our

imagination and to make us think that things greatly hoped for can be

always reached, although not exactly in the way expected. The nerves

of the whole world are, so to speak, being bound together, so that a

touch in one country is transmitted instantly to a far-distant one. Why

should we not in time speak through the earth to the antipodes? If the

magnetic waves can pass through brick and stone walls and sand hills,

why should we not direct, so to speak, our trumpet to the earth,

instead of letting its utterances skim over the horizon? In regard

to this suggestion, we know certainly one fact from our laboratory

experiences: that these magnetic waves, meeting layers of electrically

conducting matter, like layers of iron ore, would be reflected back,

and would not penetrate. Thus a means may be discovered through the

instrumentality of such waves of exploring the mysteries of the earth

before success is attained in completely penetrating its mass.

EMIGRANT DIAMONDS IN AMERICA.

BY PROF. WILLIAM HERBERT HOBBS.

To discover the origin of the diamond in Nature we must seek it in

its ancestral home, where the rocky matrix gave it birth in the form

characteristic of its species. In prosecuting our search we should very

soon discover that, in common with other gem minerals, the diamond has

been a great wanderer, for it is usually found far from its original

home. The disintegrating forces of the atmosphere, by acting upon the

rocky material in which the stones were imbedded, have loosed them from

their natural setting, to be caught up by the streams, sorted from

their disintegrated matrix, and transported far from the parent rock,

to be at last set down upon some gravelly bed over which the force of

the current is weakened. The mines of Brazil and the Urals, of India,

Borneo, and the "river diggings" of South Africa either have been or

are now in deposits of this character.

The "dry diggings" of the Kimberley district, in South Africa, afford

the unique locality in which the diamond has thus far been found in

its original home, and all our knowledge of the genesis of the mineral

has been derived from study of this locality. The mines are located

in "pans," in which is found the "blue ground" now recognized as the

disintegrated matrix of the diamond. These "pans" are known to be the

"pipes," or "necks," of former volcanoes, now deeply dissected by the

forces of the atmosphere--in fact, worn down if not to their roots, at

least to their stumps. These remnants of the "pipes," through which

the lava reached the surface, are surrounded in part by a black shale

containing a large percentage of carbon, and this is believed to be the

material out of which the diamonds have been formed. What appear to

be modified fragments of the black shale inclosed within the "pipes"

afford evidence that portions of the shale have been broken from the

parent beds by the force of the ascending current of lava--a common

enough accompaniment to volcanic action--and have been profoundly

altered by the high temperature and the extreme hydrostatic pressure

under which the mass must have been held. The most important feature

of this alteration has been the recrystallization of the carbon of the

shale into diamond.

[Illustration: GLACIAL MAP OF THE GREAT LAKES REGION

Driftless Areas. Older Drift. Newer Drift.

Moraines. Glacial Striae. Track of Diamonds.

Diamond Localities E. Eagle O. Oregon K. Kohlsville D. Dowagiac M.

Milford. P. Plum Crk. B. Burlington.

We are indebted to the University of Chicago Press for the above

illustration.]

[Illustration: Copyright, 1899, by George F. Kunz.

FIVE VIEWS OF THE EAGLE DIAMOND (sixteen carats); enlarged about three

diameters. (Owned by Tiffany and Company.)

We are indebted to the courtesy of Mr. G. F. Kunz, of Tiffany and

Company, for the illustrations of the Oregon and Eagle diamonds.]

This apparent explanation of the genesis of the diamond finds strong

support in the experiments of Moissan, who obtained artificial diamond

by dissolving carbon in molten iron and immersing the mass in cold

water until a firm surface crust had formed. The "chilled" mass was

then removed, to allow its still molten core to solidify slowly. This

it does with the development of enormous pressures, because the natural

expansion of the iron on passing into the solid condition is resisted

by the strong shell of "chilled" metal. The isolation of the diamond

was then accomplished by dissolving the iron in acid.

The prevailing form of the South African diamonds is that of a rounded

crystal, with eight large and a number of minute faces--a form called

by crystallographers a _modified octahedron_. Their shapes would be

roughly simulated by the Pyramids of Egypt if they could be seen,

combined with their reflected images, in a placid lake, or, better

to meet the conditions of the country, in a desert mirage. It is a

peculiar property of diamond crystals to have convexly rounded faces,

so that the edges which separate the faces are not straight, but gently

curving. Less frequently in the African mines, but commonly in some

other regions, diamonds are bounded by four, twelve, twenty-four, or

even forty-eight faces. These must not, of course, be confused with the

faces of cut stones, which are the product of the lapidary's art.

Geological conditions remarkably like those observed at the Kimberley

mines have recently been discovered in Kentucky, with the difference

that here the shales contain a much smaller percentage of carbon, which

may be the reason that diamonds have not rewarded the diligent search

that has been made for them.

Though now found in the greatest abundance in South Africa and in

Brazil, diamonds were formerly obtained from India, Borneo, and from

the Ural Mountains of Russia. The great stones of history have, with

hardly an exception, come from India, though in recent years a number

of diamond monsters have been found in South Africa. One of these,

the "Excelsior," weighed nine hundred and seventy carats, which is in

excess even of the supposed weight of the "Great Mogul."

[Illustration: Copyright, 1899, by George F. Kunz.

FOUR VIEWS OF THE OREGON DIAMOND; enlarged about three diameters.

(Owned by Tiffany and Company.)]

Occasionally diamonds have come to light in other regions than those

specified. The Piedmont plateau, at the southeastern base of the

Appalachians, has produced, in the region between southern Virginia and

Georgia, some ten or twelve diamonds, which have varied in weight from

those of two or three carats to the "Dewey" diamond, which when found

weighed over twenty-three carats.

It is, however, in the territory about the Great Lakes that the

greatest interest now centers, for in this region a very interesting

problem of origin is being worked out. No less than seven diamonds,

ranging in size from less than four to more than twenty-one carats, not

to mention a number of smaller stones, have been recently found in the

clays and gravels of this region, where their distribution was such

as to indicate with a degree of approximation the location of their

distant ancestral home.

In order clearly to set forth the nature of this problem and the method

of its solution it will be necessary, first, to plot upon a map of the

lake region the locality at which each of the stones has been found,

and, further, to enter upon the same map the data which geologists

have gleaned regarding the work of the great ice cap of the Glacial

period. During this period, not remote as geological time is reckoned,

an ice mantle covered the entire northeastern portion of our continent,

and on more than one occasion it invaded for considerable distances

the territory of the United States. Such a map as has been described

discloses an important fact which holds the clew for the detection of

the ancestral home of these diamonds. Each year is bringing with it new

evidence, and we may look forward hopefully to a full solution of the

problem.

In 1883 the "Eagle Stone" was brought to Milwaukee and sold for

the nominal sum of one dollar. When it was submitted to competent

examination the public learned that it was a diamond of sixteen carats'

weight, and that it had been discovered seven years earlier in earth

removed from a well-opening. Two events which were calculated to arouse

local interest followed directly upon the discovery of the real nature

of this gem, after which it passed out of the public notice. The woman

who had parted with the gem for so inadequate a compensation brought

suit against the jeweler to whom she had sold it, in order to recover

its value. This curious litigation, which naturally aroused a great

deal of interest, was finally carried to the Supreme Court of the State

of Wisconsin, from which a decision was handed down in favor of the

defendant, on the ground that he, no less than the plaintiff, had been

ignorant of the value of the gem at the time of purchasing it. The

other event was the "boom" of the town of Eagle as a diamond center,

which, after the finding of two other diamonds with unmistakable marks

of African origin upon them, ended as suddenly as it had begun, with

the effect of temporarily discrediting, in the minds of geologists, the

genuineness of the original "find."

Ten years later a white diamond of a little less than four carats'

weight came to light in a collection of pebbles found in Oregon,

Wisconsin, and brought to the writer for examination. The stones had

been found by a farmer's lad while playing in a clay bank near his

home. The investigation of the subject which was thereupon made brought

out the fact that a third diamond, and this the larges of all, had

been discovered at Kohlsville, in the same State, in 1883, and was

still in the possession of the family on whose property it had been

found.

As these stones were found in the deposits of "drift" which were left

by the ice of the Glacial period, it was clear that they had been

brought to their resting places by the ice itself. The map reveals

the additional fact, and one of the greatest significance, that all

these diamonds were found in the so-called "kettle moraine." This

moraine or ridge was the dumping ground of the ice for its burden of

bowlders, gravel, and clay at the time of its later invasion, and hence

indicates the boundaries of the territory over which the ice mass was

then extended. In view of the fact that two of the three stones found

had remained in the hands of the farming population, without coming

to the knowledge of the world, for periods of eleven and seven years

respectively, it seems most probable that others have been found,

though not identified as diamonds, and for this reason are doubtless

still to be found in many cases in association with other local

"curios" on the clock shelves of country farmhouses in the vicinity

of the "kettle moraine." The writer felt warranted in predicting, in

1894, that other diamonds would occasionally be brought to light in the

"kettle moraine," though the great extent of this moraine left little

room for hope that more than one or two would be found at any one point

of it.

[Illustration: THREE VIEWS OF THE SAUKVILLE DIAMOND (six carats);

enlarged about three diameters. (Owned by Bunde and Upmeyer, Milwaukee.)

We are indebted to the courtesy of Bunde and Upmeyer, of Milwaukee, for

the illustrations showing the Burlington and Saukville diamonds.]

In the time that has since elapsed diamonds have been found at the rate

of about one a year, though not, so far as I am aware, in any case

as the result of search. In Wisconsin have been found the Saukville

diamond, a beautiful white stone of six carats' weight, and also the

Burlington stone, having a weight of a little over two carats. The

former had been for more than sixteen years in the possession of the

finder before he learned of its value. In Michigan has been found the

Dowagiac stone, of about eleven carats' weight, and only very recently

a diamond weighing six carats and of exceptionally fine "water" has

come to light at Milford, near Cincinnati. This augmentation of the

number of localities, and the nearness of all to the "kettle moraines,"

leaves little room for doubt that the diamonds were conveyed by the ice

at the time of its later invasion of the country.

Having, then, arrived at a satisfactory conclusion regarding not only

the agent which conveyed the stones, but also respecting the period

during which they were transported, it is pertinent to inquire by what

paths they were brought to their adopted homes, and whether, if these

may be definitely charted, it may not be possible to follow them in a

direction the reverse of that taken by the diamonds themselves until we

arrive at the point from which each diamond started upon its journey.

If we succeed in this we shall learn whether they have a common home,

or whether they were formed in regions more or less widely separated.

From the great rarity of diamonds in Nature it would seem that the

hypothesis of a common home is the more probable, and this view finds

confirmation in the fact that certain marks of "consanguinity" have

been observed upon the stones already found.

[Illustration: FOUR VIEWS OF THE BURLINGTON DIAMOND (a little over two

carats); enlarged about three diameters. (Owned by Bunde and Upmeyer,

Milwaukee.)]

Not only did the ice mantle register its advance in the great ridge

of morainic material which we know as the "kettle moraine," but it

has engraved upon the ledges of rock over which it has ridden, in a

simple language of lines and grooves, the direction of its movement,

after first having planed away the disintegrated portions of the rock

to secure a smooth and lasting surface. As the same ledges have been

overridden more than once, and at intervals widely separated, they

are often found, palimpsestlike, with recent characters superimposed

upon earlier, partly effaced, and nearly illegible ones. Many of

the scattered leaves of this record have, however, been copied by

geologists, and the autobiography of the ice is now read from maps

which give the direction of its flow, and allow the motion of the ice

as a whole, as well as that of each of its parts, to be satisfactorily

studied. Recent studies by Canadian geologists have shown that one of

the highest summits of the ice cap must have been located some distance

west of Hudson Bay, and that another, the one which glaciated the lake

region, was in Labrador, to the east of the same body of water. From

these points the ice moved in spreading fans both northward toward the

Arctic Ocean and southward toward the States, and always approached the

margins at the moraines in a direction at right angles to their extent.

Thus the rock material transported by the ice was spread out in a great

fan, which constantly extended its boundaries as it advanced.

Appletons' Popular Science Monthly, November 1899 Volume LVI, No. 1 · 第 7 / 16 段