Speaking for physical sciences I can say that in those days there was

no lack of trained scientists who could easily have extended the work

of the American college, and added to it a field of advanced work

resembling closely the activity of the European universities. Most

of these men had received their higher academic training in European

universities, and quite a number of them came from Johns Hopkins.

But there were two obstacles: first, lack of experimental-research

facilities; second, lack of leisure for scientific research. Rowland

and his followers recognized the existence of these obstacles, and

demanded reform. Most of the energy of the teachers of physical

sciences was consumed in the lecture-room; they were pedagogues,

“pouring information into passive recipients,” as Barnard described it.

My own case was a typical one. How could I do any research as long as

I had at my disposal a dynamo, a motor, an alternator, and a few crude

measuring instruments only, all intended to be used every day for the

instruction of electrical-engineering students? When the professor of

engineering died, in the summer of 1891, a part of his work, theory

of heat and hydraulics, was assigned to me. The professor of dynamics

died a little later, and his work also was transferred to me. I was to

carry the additional load of lecture-room work temporarily, but was

relieved from it, in part only, after several years. As a reward my

title was advanced to adjunct professor, with an advance of salary to

two thousand five hundred dollars per annum. But in return for this

_royal_ salary I had to lecture three to four hours each forenoon,

and help in the electrical laboratory instruction in the afternoons.

While this pedagogic load was on my back scientific research could

not be seriously thought of. My young colleagues in other colleges

were similarly situated. This overloading of young scientists with

pedagogic work threatened to stunt, and often did stunt, their growth

and also the growth of the rising American university. “Let chairs be

founded, sufficiently but not luxuriously endowed, which shall have

original research for their main object and ambition,” was the historic

warning which Tyndall addressed to the American people in 1873, but

in 1893 there was little evidence that it was heeded anywhere outside

of Johns Hopkins University. But there they had Rowland and a number

of other stars of the first magnitude who had succeeded Joseph Henry,

Barnard, and Draper as leaders of the great movement in favor of higher

scientific research. In 1883 Rowland delivered a memorable address as

vice-president of one of the sections of the American Association for

the Advancement of Science. It was entitled, “A Plea for Pure Science,”

and described the spirit not only of Johns Hopkins of those days but

also of all friends of higher learning in science. That spirit was

advocated here by Tyndall in 1872-1873, and under Rowland’s leadership

it was bound to win our battle for higher ideals in science. The

people of the United States owe a great debt of gratitude to Johns

Hopkins for the leadership in that great movement which, as we see

to-day, has produced a most remarkable intellectual advancement in

this country. Nearly thirty years ago I heard Rowland say in a public

address: “They always say in Baltimore that no man in that city should

die without leaving something to Johns Hopkins.” When he said it

he knew that Johns Hopkins was very poor. It is poorer to-day than

ever, and no rich man in the United States should die without leaving

something to Johns Hopkins, the pioneer university of the United States.

Rowland said once that lack of experimental facilities and of time

was not a valid excuse for neglecting entirely scientific research. I

agreed with that opinion; neglect breeds indifference, and indifference

degenerates into atrophy of the spirit of inquiry. The alternating

current machine of the electrical engineering laboratory at Columbia

was free in the evenings, and so was my time; that is, if my wife

should not object, and, being a noble and unselfish woman, she did not

object. With the assistance of several enthusiastic students, among

them Gano Dunn, to-day one of the most distinguished engineers in the

United States, I started investigating the passage of electricity

through various gases at low pressures, and published two papers in

the _American Journal of Science_. I soon discovered that most of my

results had been anticipated by Professor J. J. Thomson, of Cambridge,

who, in all probability, had received his inspiration from the same

source from which I had received mine. He not only had anticipated me

but, moreover, he showed a much better grasp of the subject than I had,

and had much better experimental facilities. I decided to leave the

field to him, and to watch his beautiful work from the outside. It was

a wise decision, because it prepared me to understand the epoch-making

discoveries in this field which were soon to be announced, one in

Germany and one in France. I turned my attention to another field.

I must mention, however, one of the results which Thomson had not

anticipated and which created quite an impression among astronomers. I

noticed a peculiar appearance in the electrical discharge proceeding

from a small metal sphere which was located in the centre of a large

glass sphere containing air at low pressure. The discharges looked very

much like the luminous corona of the sun which astronomers observe

during eclipses, and which was always a mysterious puzzle in solar

physics. Pasting a tin-foil disk on the glass sphere, so as to hide

the metal sphere and see only the discharge proceeding from it, I

photographed the appearance of the discharge and obtained the pictures

given opposite page 294. The resemblance of these photographs to those

of the two types of the solar corona is most striking. This is what I

said about it at that time:

“The bearing which these experimental results may have upon the theory

of the solar corona I prefer to leave to others to decide. That they

may prove a suggestive guide in the study of solar phenomena seems not

unreasonable to expect.”

[Illustration: ELECTRICAL DISCHARGES REPRESENTING TWO TYPES OF

SOLAR CORONÆ]

[Illustration: SOLAR CORONA OF 1922

Photographed by the Lick Observatory Expedition

to Australia]

In a communication read later before the New York Academy of Sciences

I was much bolder, having previously discussed the subject with my

friends at Johns Hopkins and with the late Professor Young, the famous

astronomer at Princeton. I soon found myself advocating strongly the

electromagnetic theory of solar phenomena. A German professor, Ebert by

name, a well-known authority on electrical discharges in gases, took

me very seriously indeed, which was very flattering, but he claimed

priority. I had no difficulty in establishing my priority through the

columns of _Astronomy and Astro-Physics_, one of whose editors was

George Ellery Hale, to-day the distinguished director of Mount Wilson

Observatory. I was indeed fortunate to make his acquaintance during

that period when both he and I were very young men. His influence

prevented me from running wild with my electromagnetic theory of

solar phenomena. Thanks to the splendid astro-physical researches

at the Mount Wilson Observatory in California under Doctor Hale’s

direction, we know to-day that enormous electrical currents circulate

on the surface of the sun, and we know also from other researches that

negative electricity is shot out from all hot bodies, even from those

not nearly as hot as the sun, and that the solar corona is, in all

probability, closely related to this electrical activity on the sun.

After giving up the subject of electrical discharges in gases I

looked around for another problem of research which I could manage

with my meagre laboratory facilities. Rowland had found distortions

in an alternating current when that current was magnetizing iron in

electrical power apparatus. This distortion consisted of the addition

of higher harmonics to the normal harmonic changes in the current.

This reminded me of harmonics in musical instruments and in the human

voice. Helmholtz was the first to analyze the vowels in human speech by

studying the harmonics which they contained. The vowel o, for instance,

sung at a given pitch, contains in addition to its fundamental

pitch--say one hundred vibrations per second--other vibrations the

frequencies of which are integral multiples of one hundred, that is

two, three, four, ... hundred vibrations per second. These higher

vibrations are called harmonics of the fundamental. Helmholtz detected

these harmonics by the employment of acoustical resonators; it was an

epoch-making research. I proceeded to search for a similar procedure

for the analysis of Rowland’s distorted alternating currents, and I

found it. I constructed electrical resonators based upon dynamical

principles similar to those in the acoustical resonators employed by

Helmholtz. These electrical resonators play a most important part in

the radio art of to-day, and a few words regarding their operation

seem desirable. In fact, there is to-day a cry from the Atlantic

to the Pacific on the part of millions of people who wish to know

what they are really doing when they are turning a knob on their

radio-receiving sets in order to find the correct wave length for a

certain broadcasting station. I am responsible for the operation, and I

owe them an explanation of it.

The mass and form of an elastic body, say a tuning-fork, and its

stiffness determine the pitch, the so-called _frequency_ of vibration.

When a periodically varying force, say a wave of sound, acts upon the

tuning-fork, the maximum motion of the prongs will be produced when the

pitch or frequency of the moving force is equal to the frequency of the

tuning-fork. The two are said then to be in resonance, that is, the

motion of the fork resonates to or synchronizes with the action of the

force. Every elastic structure has a frequency of its own. The column

of air in an organ-pipe has a frequency of its own; so has the string

of a piano. One can excite the motion of each by singing a note of the

same frequency; a note of a considerably different frequency excites

practically no motion at all. Acoustical resonance phenomena are too

well known to need here any further comment. There are also electrical

resonance phenomena very similar to those of acoustical resonance. If

you understand one of them there is no difficulty in understanding the

other.

If an electrical conductor, say a copper wire, is coiled up so as

to form a coil of many turns, and its terminals are connected to a

condenser, that is to conducting plates which are separated from

each other by insulating material, then the motion of electricity in

that conducting circuit is subject to the same laws as the motion of

the prongs of a tuning-fork. Every motion, whether of electricity

or of matter, is determined completely by the force which produces

the motion, and by the forces with which the moving object reacts

against the motion. If the law of action of these several forces

is the same in the case of moving matter as in the case of moving

electricity, then their motions also will be the same. The moving

forces are called the _action_ and the opposing forces are called the

_reaction_, and Newton’s third law of motion says: _Action is equal to

the opposing reaction_. I always considered this the most fundamental

law in all physical sciences. It is applicable to all motions no

matter what the thing is which moves, whether ponderable matter or

imponderable electricity. Twenty-six years ago a student of mine,

Albert R. Gallatin, brother of the present park commissioner of New

York, presented a large induction coil to the electrical laboratory

at Columbia College in recognition of my services to him, because,

he said, this formulation of the fundamental law in the electrical

science, which I have just given, made everything very clear to him.

This was most encouraging to a young professor, and it goes without

saying that ever since that time he and I have been warm friends.

He is a banker and I am still a professor, but the interest in the

fundamental principles in physical sciences are a strong bond of union

between us.

The electrical force which moves the electricity in the circuit, just

described, experiences two principal reactions. One reaction is due

to the lines of electrical force which, attached to the electrical

charge on the condenser plates, are crowded into the insulating

space between these plates. This reaction corresponds to the elastic

reaction of the prongs of the tuning-fork, and follows the same law.

In the case of the tuning-fork the _elastic reaction is proportional

to the displacement_ of the prongs from their normal position; in the

electrical case the reacting force is proportional to the electrical

charges which have been pulled apart, the negative from the positive,

and driven to the plates of the condenser. Call this separation

_electrical displacement_, and the law can be given the same form as

above, namely: _The reacting force is proportional to the electrical

displacement_. The greater the distance between the plates, and

the smaller their surface, the greater is the reaction for a given

electrical displacement. By varying these two quantities we can vary

the electrical yielding, the so-called capacity, of the electrical

condenser. This is what you do when you turn the knob and vary the

capacity of the condenser in your receiving set.

The moving prongs have a momentum, and a change in the momentum opposes

a reacting force, the so-called inertia reaction, which is equal to the

rate of this change. This was discovered by Galileo over three hundred

years ago. We experience the operation of this law every time we bump

against a moving object. The Irish sailor who, after describing the

accident which made him fall from the mast, assured his friends that

it was not the fall which hurt him but the sudden stop, appreciated

fully the reacting force due to a rapid change of momentum. Every boy

and girl in the public schools should know Galileo’s fundamental law,

and they would know it if by a few simple experiments it were taught

to them. But how many teachers really teach it? How many of my readers

really know that law? Just think of it, what an impeachment it is of

our modern system of education to have so many intelligent men and

women, boys and girls, ignorant of so fundamental a law as that which

Galileo discovered so long ago!

The moving electricity has a momentum. The magnetic lines of force

produced by this motion are a measure of this momentum. Their change

is opposed by a reacting force equal to the rate of this change. This

was discovered by Faraday nearly a hundred years ago. The larger the

number of turns in the coil of wire the larger will be the momentum for

a given electrical motion, that is, for a given electrical current. But

how can anybody understand very clearly this beautiful law, discovered

by Faraday, who does not understand Galileo’s simpler discovery? The

fact that electricity, just like matter, has inertia, and that both

obey the same law of inertia, is one of the most beautiful discoveries

in science. Whenever I thought that so many intelligent and cultured

people knew nothing about it I rebelled against the educational system

of modern civilization.

The motion of electricity in the conductor described above overcomes

reacting forces which follow the same laws as the motion of the elastic

prongs of the tuning-fork. The motion of one has, therefore, an analogy

in the motion of the other. In an electrical circuit having a coil

and a condenser the moving electricity has a definite inertia and a

definite electrical stiffness; hence it will have a definite pitch

or frequency for its vibratory motion, just like a tuning-fork; it

will act as a resonator. It is obvious, therefore, that an electrical

resonator, the pitch of which can be adjusted by adjusting its coil

or its condenser or both, is a perfect parallel to the acoustical

resonator. By means of an electrical resonator of this kind, having an

adjustable coil and an adjustable condenser, I succeeded in detecting

every one of the harmonics in Rowland’s distorted alternating currents,

in the same manner in which Helmholtz detected the harmonics in the

vowel sounds, but with much greater ease, because the pitch of an

electrical resonator can be very easily and accurately changed by

adjusting its coil and condenser. There are millions of people to-day

who are doing that very thing when they are turning the knobs on

their radio receiving sets, adjusting them to the wave-length of the

transmitting station. The expression, “adjusting them to the pitch

or frequency of the transmitting station,” is much better, because

it reminds the operator of the analogy existing between acoustical

and electrical resonance. The procedure was inaugurated thirty years

ago in the “cowshed” of old Columbia College. I called it “electrical

tuning” and the name has stuck to it down to the present time. The

word “tuning” was suggested by the operation which the Serbian

bagpiper performs when he tunes up his bagpipes, which I watched with

a lively interest in my boyhood days. Those early impressions had made

acoustical and electrical resonance appear to me later as obvious

things.

The results of this research were published in the _American Journal

of Science_ and also in the _Transactions of the American Institute

of Electrical Engineers for 1894_. They, I was told, had never been

anticipated; and they confirmed fully Rowland’s views concerning

the magnetic reaction of iron when subjected to the magnetic action

of an alternating current. When Helmholtz visited this country in

1893, I showed him my electrical resonators and the research which I

was conducting with their assistance. He was quite impressed by the

striking similarity between his acoustical resonance analysis and

my electrical resonance analysis, and urged me to push on the work

and repeat his early experiments in acoustical resonance, because my

electrical method was much more convenient than his acoustical method.

Helmholtz was always interested in the analysis as well as in the

synthesis of vibrations corresponding to articulate speech. The

telephone and the phonograph were two inventions which always enjoyed

his admiring attention. During his visit in America he looked forward

with much pleasure to meeting Graham Bell and Edison. The simplicity of

their inventions astonished him, because one would hardly have expected

that a simple disk could vibrate so as to reproduce faithfully all the

complex vibrations which are necessary for articulation. He spent a

Sunday afternoon as my guest at Monmouth Beach and in the course of

conversation I told him what impression the telephone had made upon me

when I first listened through it. It happened during the period when I

was serving my apprenticeship as greenhorn, and when I was trying hard

to master the articulation of the English language. The telephone plate

repeated perfectly everything spoken at the other end, and I said to

myself: “These Americans are too clever for me; they can make a plain

steel plate articulate much better than I can ever expect to do it

with all my speaking organs. I had better return to Idvor and become

a herdsman again.” Helmholtz laughed heartily and assured me that the

articulating telephone plate had made a similar impression upon him,

although he had spent several years of his life studying the theory of

articulation. “The phonograph disk is just as clever as the telephone

disk,” said Helmholtz, “perhaps even more so, because it has to dig

hard while it is busily talking.”

My scientific friends in New York saw in the construction of my

electrical resonator and in its employment for selective detection

of alternating currents of definite frequency a very suitable means

for practising harmonic telegraphy, first suggested by Graham Bell,

the inventor of the telephone. They finally persuaded me to apply for

a patent and I did so. I often regretted it, because it involved me

in a most expensive and otherwise annoying legal contest. Two other

inventors had applied for a patent on the same invention. One of them

was an American, and the other a French inventor, and each of them was

backed by a powerful industrial corporation. A college professor with

a salary of two thousand five hundred dollars per annum cannot stand a

long legal contest when opposed by two powerful corporations; but it

is a curious psychological fact that when one’s claim to an invention

is disputed he will fight for it just as a tigress would fight for her

cub. The fight lasted nearly eight years and I won it. I was declared

to be the inventor, and the patent was granted to me. But a patent is

a piece of paper worth nothing until somebody needs the invention.

I waited a long time before that somebody came, and when he finally

showed up I had almost forgotten that I had made the invention. In the

meantime I had nothing but a piece of paper for all my pains, which

nearly wrecked me financially.

Just about that time the newspapers reported that a young Italian

student by the name of Marconi, while experimenting with Hertzian

waves, had demonstrated that a Hertzian oscillator will send out

electrical waves which will penetrate much longer distances when one

of its sides is connected to earth. “Of course it will,” said I, “the

grounded oscillator takes the earth into closer partnership.” When as

a herdsman’s assistant on the pasturelands of my native Idvor I stuck

my knife into the ground and struck its wooden handle, I knew perfectly

well that the ground was a part of the vibrating system, and that the

sound-producing stroke was taken up by the ground much better than when

I struck the knife-handle without sticking the knife into the ground.

But I also knew that unless the boy who was listening pressed his ear

against the ground he would not hear very much. It was, therefore,

quite obvious to me that the best detector for a Hertzian oscillator

which is grounded must be another Hertzian oscillator which is also

connected to the ground. Grounding of the sending and of the receiving

Hertzian oscillators was in fact the fundamental claim of the Marconi

invention. Marconi, in my opinion, was unwittingly imitating the young

herdsmen of Idvor when, figuratively speaking, he stuck his electrical

knives into the ground for the purpose of transmitting and receiving

electrical vibrations, but the imitation was a very clever one; very

obvious indeed as soon as it was pointed out, like all clever things.

Every now and then we are told that wireless signals might be sent

some day to the planet Mars. The judgment of a former herdsman of

Idvor considers these suggestions unscientific for the simple reason

that we cannot get a ground on the planet Mars and, therefore, cannot

take it into close partnership with our Hertzian oscillators. Without

that partnership there is no prospect of covering great distances. A

very simple experiment will illustrate this. Scratch the wood of a

pencil and ask your friends who are sitting around a table whether

they hear the scratching. They will say “No.” Put the pencil on the

table and scratch it again; your friends will tell you that they can

hear it faintly. Ask them to press their ears against the table and

they will tell you that the scratching sound is very loud. In the

third case the pencil, the table, and the ears of your friends are all

one closely interconnected vibratory system. Every herdsman of Idvor

would interpret correctly the physical meaning of this experiment. “If

Marconi had waited just a little longer I should have done his trick

myself,” I said jokingly to Crocker, and then I temporarily dismissed

the matter from my mind as if nothing had happened. But I was fairly

confident that my electrical resonators would some day find a useful

application in this new method of signalling, and Crocker was even more

hopeful than I was. I turned my attention to another problem and would

have completed its solution, if my work had not been interrupted by the

announcement of a most remarkable discovery made in Germany, I mean the

discovery of the Roentgen rays.

I cannot describe the effects of this epoch-making discovery without

referring again to great Helmholtz. It was due to his initiative

that Hertz took up the research of electrical oscillations, which

suggested to Marconi their technical application. This started a new

technical art, wireless telegraphy, which developed into the radio

art. Without Helmholtz, not only the experimental verification of the

Faraday-Maxwell electromagnetic theory but also the radio art might

have been delayed quite a long time. I shall point out now that the

great discovery of the Roentgen rays also was due in a great measure to

the initiative of Helmholtz.

From Immigrant to Inventor · 第 23 / 31 段