This is a modern-English version of Experiments with Alternate Currents of High Potential and High Frequency: A Lecture Delivered before the Institution of Electrical Engineers, London, originally written by Tesla, Nikola. It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

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Title Page



EXPERIMENTS

WITH

ALTERNATE CURRENTS

OF

HIGH POTENTIAL AND HIGH FREQUENCY.

BY

NIKOLA TESLA.


A LECTURE

DELIVERED BEFORE THE

INSTITUTION OF ELECTRICAL ENGINEERS, LONDON.


With a Portrait and Biographical Sketch
of the Author.

NEW YORK:
1892

 

 

Portrait of Nikola Tesla

Biographical Sketch of Nikola Tesla.


 

While a large portion of the European family has been surging westward during the last three or four hundred years, settling the vast continents of America, another, but smaller, portion has been doing frontier work in the Old World, protecting the rear by beating back the "unspeakable Turk" and reclaiming gradually the fair lands that endure the curse of Mohammedan rule. For a long time the Slav people—who, after the battle of Kosovopjolje, in which the Turks defeated the Servians, retired to the confines of the present Montenegro, Dalmatia, Herzegovina and Bosnia, and "Borderland" of Austria—knew what it was to deal, as our Western pioneers did, with foes ceaselessly fretting against their frontier; and the races of these countries, through their strenuous struggle against the armies of the Crescent, have developed notable qualities of bravery and sagacity, while maintaining a patriotism and independence unsurpassed in any other nation.

While many Europeans have been moving westward over the last three or four hundred years, settling the vast continents of America, a smaller group has been working on the frontiers in the Old World, defending their land by pushing back the "unspeakable Turk" and gradually reclaiming the beautiful lands burdened by Mohammedan rule. For a long time, the Slavic people—who, after the battle of Kosovopjolje, where the Turks defeated the Serbians, retreated to what are now Montenegro, Dalmatia, Herzegovina, and Bosnia, as well as the "Borderland" of Austria—understood what it was like to face persistent threats against their borders, similar to our Western pioneers. The people of these regions, through their determined struggle against the armies of the Crescent, have shown remarkable bravery and wisdom, while also maintaining a level of patriotism and independence unmatched by any other nation.

It was in this interesting border region, and from among these valiant Eastern folk, that Nikola Tesla was born in the year 1857, and the fact that he, to-day, finds himself in America and one of our foremost electricians, is striking evidence of the extraordinary attractiveness alike of electrical pursuits and of the country where electricity enjoys its widest application. Mr. Tesla's native place was Smiljan, Lika, where his father was an eloquent clergyman of the Greek Church, in which, by the way, his family is still prominently represented. His mother enjoyed great fame throughout the countryside for her skill and originality in needlework, and doubtless transmitted her ingenuity to Nikola; though it naturally took another and more masculine direction.

It was in this fascinating border region, among these brave Eastern people, that Nikola Tesla was born in 1857. The fact that he is now in America and one of our top electricians is a remarkable testament to the remarkable appeal of electrical careers and the country where electricity is used most extensively. Mr. Tesla's hometown was Smiljan, Lika, where his father was a passionate clergyman of the Greek Church, and his family is still well represented there. His mother was well-known throughout the area for her talent and creativity in needlework, likely passing on her creativity to Nikola, although it naturally took a different and more masculine path.

The boy was early put to his books, and upon his father's removal to Gospic he spent four years in the public school, and later, three years in the Real School, as it is called. His escapades were such as most quick witted boys go through, although he varied the programme on one occasion by getting imprisoned in a remote mountain chapel rarely visited for service; and on another occasion by falling headlong into a huge kettle of boiling milk, just drawn from the paternal herds. A third curious episode was that connected with his efforts to fly when, attempting to navigate the air with the aid of an old umbrella, he had, as might be expected, a very bad fall, and was laid up for six weeks.

The boy started his education early, and after his father moved to Gospic, he spent four years in public school, followed by three years in what’s called the Real School. He had the typical adventures of a clever boy, but he added some unique twists: once, he got stuck in a remote mountain chapel that hardly anyone visited for services; another time, he fell headfirst into a giant kettle of boiling milk, straight from the family cows. A third memorable incident involved his attempts to fly, where he tried to use an old umbrella to soar through the air and ended up taking a nasty fall, which put him out of action for six weeks.

About this period he began to take delight in arithmetic and physics. One queer notion he had was to work out everything by three or the power of three. He was now sent to an aunt at Cartstatt, Croatia, to finish his studies in what is known as the Higher Real School. It was there that, coming from the rural fastnesses, he saw a steam engine for the first time with a pleasure that he remembers to this day. At Cartstatt he was so diligent as to compress the four years' course into three, and graduated in 1873. Returning home during an epidemic of cholera, he was stricken down by the disease and suffered so seriously from the consequences that his studies were interrupted for fully two years. But the time was not wasted, for he had become passionately fond of experimenting, and as much as his means and leisure permitted devoted his energies to electrical study and investigation. Up to this period it had been his father's intention to make a priest of him, and the idea hung over the young physicist like a very sword of Damocles. Finally he prevailed upon his worthy but reluctant sire to send him to Gratz in Austria to finish his studies at the Polytechnic School, and to prepare for work as professor of mathematics and physics. At Gratz he saw and operated a Gramme machine for the first time, and was so struck with the objections to the use of commutators and brushes that he made up his mind there and then to remedy that defect in dynamo-electric machines. In the second year of his course he abandoned the intention of becoming a teacher and took up the engineering curriculum. After three years of absence he returned home, sadly, to see his father die; but, having resolved to settle down in Austria, and recognizing the value of linguistic acquirements, he went to Prague and then to Buda-Pesth with the view of mastering the languages he deemed necessary. Up to this time he had never realized the enormous sacrifices that his parents had made in promoting his education, but he now began to feel the pinch and to grow unfamiliar with the image of Francis Joseph I. There was considerable lag between his dispatches and the corresponding remittance from home; and when the mathematical expression for the value of the lag assumed the shape of an eight laid flat on its back, Mr. Tesla became a very fair example of high thinking and plain living, but he made up his mind to the struggle and determined to go through depending solely on his own resources. Not desiring the fame of a faster, he cast about for a livelihood, and through the help of friends he secured a berth as assistant in the engineering department of the government telegraphs. The salary was five dollars a week. This brought him into direct contact with practical electrical work and ideas, but it is needless to say that his means did not admit of much experimenting. By the time he had extracted several hundred thousand square and cube roots for the public benefit, the limitations, financial and otherwise, of the position had become painfully apparent, and he concluded that the best thing to do was to make a valuable invention. He proceeded at once to make inventions, but their value was visible only to the eye of faith, and they brought no grist to the mill. Just at this time the telephone made its appearance in Hungary, and the success of that great invention determined his career, hopeless as the profession had thus far seemed to him. He associated himself at once with telephonic work, and made various telephonic inventions, including an operative repeater; but it did not take him long to discover that, being so remote from the scenes of electrical activity, he was apt to spend time on aims and results already reached by others, and to lose touch. Longing for new opportunities and anxious for the development of which he felt himself possible, if once he could place himself within the genial and direct influences of the gulf streams of electrical thought, he broke away from the ties and traditions of the past, and in 1881 made his way to Paris. Arriving in that city, the ardent young Likan obtained employment as an electrical engineer with one of the largest electric lighting companies. The next year he went to Strasburg to install a plant, and on returning to Paris sought to carry out a number of ideas that had now ripened into inventions. About this time, however, the remarkable progress of America in electrical industry attracted his attention, and once again staking everything on a single throw, he crossed the Atlantic.

During this time, he started to enjoy arithmetic and physics. One unusual idea he had was to solve everything using three or powers of three. He was sent to stay with an aunt in Cartstatt, Croatia, to complete his studies at what is called the Higher Real School. It was there that, coming from the countryside, he saw a steam engine for the first time, an experience he remembers to this day. At Cartstatt, he was so hardworking that he compressed a four-year course into three years and graduated in 1873. When he returned home during a cholera epidemic, he was struck down by the disease and suffered its aftermath for nearly two years, interrupting his studies. However, this time was not wasted as he developed a passionate interest in experimentation and, as much as his resources and free time allowed, he dedicated himself to electrical study and research. Until this point, his father had intended for him to become a priest, and this expectation loomed over the young physicist like a sword of Damocles. Eventually, he convinced his well-meaning but reluctant father to send him to Gratz in Austria to finish his studies at the Polytechnic School and prepare to work as a professor of mathematics and physics. In Gratz, he operated a Gramme machine for the first time and was so struck by the issues with commutators and brushes that he decided then and there to fix that flaw in dynamo-electric machines. In his second year, he abandoned the idea of teaching and switched to the engineering curriculum. After three years away, he returned home only to find his father had passed away; however, resolved to settle in Austria and understanding the importance of language skills, he went to Prague and then to Budapest to learn the languages he deemed necessary. Until this point, he had never appreciated the significant sacrifices his parents made for his education, but he began to feel the financial strain and grew less familiar with the image of Francis Joseph I. There was a considerable delay between his requests for money and the remittances from home; and when the mathematical representation of this lag resembled an eight lying flat, Mr. Tesla became a good example of high ideals and simple living, but he resolved to struggle and decided to rely solely on his own resources. Not wanting fame, he looked for a way to earn a living, and with help from friends, he got a position as an assistant in the engineering department of the government telegraphs. His salary was five dollars a week. This job connected him with practical electrical work and ideas, but his financial situation didn't allow for much experimentation. By the time he had calculated several hundred thousand square and cube roots for the public good, the limitations of his position—both financial and otherwise—became painfully clear, leading him to conclude that the best course of action was to invent something valuable. He immediately began working on inventions, but their worth was only apparent to those with faith, and they didn't generate any income. Around this time, the telephone debuted in Hungary, and the success of that invention shifted the direction of his career, despite how hopeless the field had seemed to him thus far. He quickly became involved in telephony and created various inventions related to it, including an operational repeater; however, he soon realized that being so far from the centers of electrical activity caused him to waste time on goals and results already achieved by others, making it hard to stay connected. Yearning for new opportunities and eager to develop his potential, he felt he needed to be influenced by the vibrant currents of electrical thought, so in 1881 he left behind his old ties and traditions and made his way to Paris. Upon arriving, the eager young Likan found work as an electrical engineer with one of the largest electric lighting companies. The following year, he went to Strasburg to install a plant and, upon returning to Paris, sought to bring to life a number of ideas that had matured into inventions. However, around this time, the remarkable advancements in the electrical industry in America captured his attention, and once again he put everything on the line and crossed the Atlantic.

Mr. Tesla buckled down to work as soon as he landed on these shores, put his best thought and skill into it, and soon saw openings for his talent. In a short while a proposition was made to him to start his own company, and, accepting the terms, he at once worked up a practical system of arc lighting, as well as a potential method of dynamo regulation, which in one form is now known as the "third brush regulation." He also devised a thermo-magnetic motor and other kindred devices, about which little was published, owing to legal complications. Early in 1887 the Tesla Electric Company of New York was formed, and not long after that Mr. Tesla produced his admirable and epoch-marking motors for multiphase alternating currents, in which, going back to his ideas of long ago, he evolved machines having neither commutator nor brushes. It will be remembered that about the time that Mr. Tesla brought out his motors, and read his thoughtful paper before the American Institute of Electrical Engineers, Professor Ferraris, in Europe, published his discovery of principles analogous to those enunciated by Mr. Tesla. There is no doubt, however, that Mr. Tesla was an independent inventor of this rotary field motor, for although anticipated in dates by Ferraris, he could not have known about Ferraris' work as it had not been published. Professor Ferraris stated himself, with becoming modesty, that he did not think Tesla could have known of his (Ferraris') experiments at that time, and adds that he thinks Tesla was an independent and original inventor of this principle. With such an acknowledgment from Ferraris there can be little doubt about Tesla's originality in this matter.

Mr. Tesla got straight to work as soon as he arrived here, putting his best thoughts and skills into what he was doing, and quickly identified opportunities for his talents. Before long, a proposal was presented to him to start his own company, and upon agreeing to the terms, he immediately developed a practical system for arc lighting, as well as a potential method for regulating dynamos, which is now referred to as the "third brush regulation." He also created a thermo-magnetic motor and other related devices, information about which was limited due to legal issues. In early 1887, the Tesla Electric Company of New York was formed, and shortly after, Mr. Tesla introduced his remarkable motors for multiphase alternating currents, which harked back to his earlier concepts, with machines that had neither commutators nor brushes. It’s worth noting that around the same time Mr. Tesla released his motors and presented his insightful paper to the American Institute of Electrical Engineers, Professor Ferraris in Europe published his discovery of principles similar to those put forward by Mr. Tesla. However, there is no doubt that Mr. Tesla was an independent inventor of this rotary field motor; although Ferraris had anticipated it by date, he couldn't have known about Ferraris' work because it hadn’t been published. Professor Ferraris himself humbly stated that he didn't believe Tesla could have been aware of his (Ferraris') experiments at that time and added that he thinks Tesla was an independent and original inventor of this principle. With such recognition from Ferraris, there can be little doubt about Tesla's originality in this matter.

Mr. Tesla's work in this field was wonderfully timely, and its worth was promptly appreciated in various quarters. The Tesla patents were acquired by the Westinghouse Electric Company, who undertook to develop his motor and to apply it to work of different kinds. Its use in mining, and its employment in printing, ventilation, etc., was described and illustrated in The Electrical World some years ago. The immense stimulus that the announcement of Mr. Tesla's work gave to the study of alternating current motors would, in itself, be enough to stamp him as a leader.

Mr. Tesla's work in this area was incredibly timely, and its value was quickly recognized in various circles. The Tesla patents were purchased by the Westinghouse Electric Company, which set out to develop his motor and apply it to various types of work. Its use in mining, as well as its applications in printing, ventilation, and more, was detailed and illustrated in The Electrical World several years ago. The huge boost that the announcement of Mr. Tesla's work provided to the study of alternating current motors would be enough on its own to establish him as a leader.

Mr. Tesla is only 35 years of age. He is tall and spare with a clean-cut, thin, refined face, and eyes that recall all the stories one has read of keenness of vision and phenomenal ability to see through things. He is an omnivorous reader, who never forgets; and he possesses the peculiar facility in languages that enables the least educated native of eastern Europe to talk and write in at least half a dozen tongues. A more congenial companion cannot be desired for the hours when one "pours out heart affluence in discursive talk," and when the conversation, dealing at first with things near at hand and next to us, reaches out and rises to the greater questions of life, duty and destiny.

Mr. Tesla is only 35 years old. He is tall and slim, with a clean-cut, thin, refined face, and eyes that remind you of all the stories you've read about sharp vision and extraordinary insight. He is an avid reader who remembers everything, and he has a unique talent for languages that allows even the least educated native of Eastern Europe to speak and write in at least half a dozen languages. You couldn’t ask for a better companion during those times when you really want to share your thoughts in engaging conversation, and when the discussion starts with everyday matters and then expands to the bigger questions of life, duty, and destiny.

In the year 1890 he severed his connection with the Westinghouse Company, since which time he has devoted himself entirely to the study of alternating currents of high frequencies and very high potentials, with which study he is at present engaged. No comment is necessary on his interesting achievements in this field; the famous London lecture published in this volume is a proof in itself. His first lecture on his researches in this new branch of electricity, which he may be said to have created, was delivered before the American Institute of Electrical Engineers on May 20, 1891, and remains one of the most interesting papers read before that society. It will be found reprinted in full in The Electrical World, July 11, 1891. Its publication excited such interest abroad that he received numerous requests from English and French electrical engineers and scientists to repeat it in those countries, the result of which has been the interesting lecture published in this volume.

In 1890, he cut ties with the Westinghouse Company and has since dedicated himself entirely to studying high-frequency alternating currents and very high potentials, which he is currently focused on. No further comment is needed on his remarkable achievements in this area; the famous London lecture included in this volume speaks for itself. His first lecture on his research in this new field of electricity, which he can be credited with establishing, was presented to the American Institute of Electrical Engineers on May 20, 1891, and is still considered one of the most engaging papers ever shared with that organization. It can be found fully reprinted in The Electrical World, July 11, 1891. Its publication generated such interest internationally that he received many requests from electrical engineers and scientists in England and France to present it again in those countries, which led to the intriguing lecture now published in this volume.

The present lecture presupposes a knowledge of the former, but it may be read and understood by any one even though he has not read the earlier one. It forms a sort of continuation of the latter, and includes chiefly the results of his researches since that time.

The current lecture assumes that you have knowledge of the previous one, but it can be read and understood by anyone, even if they haven't read the earlier lecture. It acts as a continuation of the last one, focusing mainly on the results of his research since then.

 

 

 

 

EXPERIMENTS

WITH

Alternate Currents of High Potential

and High Frequency.


I cannot find words to express how deeply I feel the honor of addressing some of the foremost thinkers of the present time, and so many able scientific men, engineers and electricians, of the country greatest in scientific achievements.

I can't find the right words to say how honored I am to speak to some of the leading thinkers of our time, along with so many skilled scientists, engineers, and electricians from the country that has achieved the most in science.

The results which I have the honor to present before such a gathering I cannot call my own. There are among you not a few who can lay better claim than myself on any feature of merit which this work may contain. I need not mention many names which are world-known—names of those among you who are recognized as the leaders in this enchanting science; but one, at least, I must mention—a name which could not be omitted in a demonstration of this kind. It is a name associated with the most beautiful invention ever made: it is Crookes!

The results I’m honored to present to such a gathering aren’t solely mine. There are many of you who can claim greater ownership of any merit in this work. I won’t name many well-known figures among you who are recognized as leaders in this captivating field; however, one name I must mention—one that couldn’t be left out of this kind of presentation. It’s a name linked to the most beautiful invention ever made: it’s Crookes!

When I was at college, a good time ago, I read, in a translation (for then I was not familiar with your magnificent language), the description of his experiments on radiant matter. I read it only once in my life—that time—yet every detail about that charming work I can remember this day. Few are the books, let me say, which can make such an impression upon the mind of a student.

When I was in college, quite a while back, I read about his experiments on radiant matter in a translation (since I wasn’t familiar with your amazing language back then). I’ve only read it once in my life—that time—but I can still remember every detail about that captivating work. There are very few books, let me tell you, that can leave such a lasting impression on a student's mind.

But if, on the present occasion, I mention this name as one of many your institution can boast of, it is because I have more than one reason to do so. For what I have to tell you and to show you this evening concerns, in a large measure, that same vague world which Professor Crookes has so ably explored; and, more than this, when I trace back the mental process which led me to these advances—which even by myself cannot be considered trifling, since they are so appreciated by you—I believe that their real origin, that which started me to work in this direction, and brought me to them, after a long period of constant thought, was that fascinating little book which I read many years ago.

But if I bring up this name today as one among many that your institution can proudly claim, it's for more than one reason. What I have to share with you this evening largely relates to that same elusive world that Professor Crookes has skillfully investigated. Moreover, when I reflect on the thought process that led me to these developments—ones that can hardly be seen as insignificant, given how much you value them—I believe their true origin, the spark that set me on this path and eventually led me here after a long time of deep thinking, was that intriguing little book I read many years ago.

And now that I have made a feeble effort to express my homage and acknowledge my indebtedness to him and others among you, I will make a second effort, which I hope you will not find so feeble as the first, to entertain you.

And now that I’ve made a weak attempt to show my respect and recognize my gratitude to him and others among you, I’ll make another attempt, which I hope you won’t find as weak as the first, to entertain you.

Give me leave to introduce the subject in a few words.

Let me briefly introduce the topic.

A short time ago I had the honor to bring before our American Institute of Electrical Engineers [A] some results then arrived at by me in a novel line of work. I need not assure you that the many evidences which I have received that English scientific men and engineers were interested in this work have been for me a great reward and encouragement. I will not dwell upon the experiments already described, except with the view of completing, or more clearly expressing, some ideas advanced by me before, and also with the view of rendering the study here presented self-contained, and my remarks on the subject of this evening's lecture consistent.

Not long ago, I had the privilege of presenting some results of my recent work to the American Institute of Electrical Engineers [A]. I want to emphasize that the numerous responses I received from English scientists and engineers showing interest in my work have been a significant source of reward and motivation for me. I won't go into detail about the experiments I've already discussed, but I aim to clarify some ideas I've mentioned in the past and make this study self-contained, ensuring my commentary aligns with tonight's lecture topic.

For Mr. Tesla's American lecture on this subject see THE ELECTRICAL WORLD of July 11, 1891, and for a report of his French lecture see THE ELECTRICAL WORLD of March 26, 1892.

For Mr. Tesla's American lecture on this topic, see THE ELECTRICAL WORLD from July 11, 1891, and for a report of his French lecture, check out THE ELECTRICAL WORLD from March 26, 1892.

This investigation, then, it goes without saying, deals with alternating currents, and, to be more precise, with alternating currents of high potential and high frequency. Just in how much a very high frequency is essential for the production of the results presented is a question which even with my present experience, would embarrass me to answer. Some of the experiments may be performed with low frequencies; but very high frequencies are desirable, not only on account of the many effects secured by their use, but also as a convenient means of obtaining, in the induction apparatus employed, the high potentials, which in their turn are necessary to the demonstration of most of the experiments here contemplated.

This investigation, of course, focuses on alternating currents, specifically high potential and high frequency alternating currents. How crucial a very high frequency is for achieving the results presented here is a question that, even with my current experience, would be difficult for me to answer. Some experiments can be conducted with low frequencies; however, very high frequencies are preferable, not only because of the various effects achieved through their use but also as a convenient way to generate the high potentials needed in the induction equipment used, which are essential for demonstrating most of the experiments discussed here.

Of the various branches of electrical investigation, perhaps the most interesting and immediately the most promising is that dealing with alternating currents. The progress in this branch of applied science has been so great in recent years that it justifies the most sanguine hopes. Hardly have we become familiar with one fact, when novel experiences are met with and new avenues of research are opened. Even at this hour possibilities not dreamed of before are, by the use of these currents, partly realized. As in nature all is ebb and tide, all is wave motion, so it seems that; in all branches of industry alternating currents—electric wave motion—will have the sway.

Of all the different areas of electrical research, the one that stands out as the most interesting and most promising right now is the study of alternating currents. The advancements in this field of applied science have been so significant in recent years that they inspire a lot of hope. Just when we start to grasp one fact, we come across new experiences and fresh research opportunities. Even now, there are possibilities that were once unimaginable that are becoming a reality through the use of these currents. Just like in nature, where everything flows in and out, everything is in wave motion; it seems that in all sectors of industry, alternating currents—electric wave motion—will dominate.

One reason, perhaps, why this branch of science is being so rapidly developed is to be found in the interest which is attached to its experimental study. We wind a simple ring of iron with coils; we establish the connections to the generator, and with wonder and delight we note the effects of strange forces which we bring into play, which allow us to transform, to transmit and direct energy at will. We arrange the circuits properly, and we see the mass of iron and wires behave as though it were endowed with life, spinning a heavy armature, through invisible connections, with great speed and power—with the energy possibly conveyed from a great distance. We observe how the energy of an alternating current traversing the wire manifests itself—not so much in the wire as in the surrounding space—in the most surprising manner, taking the forms of heat, light, mechanical energy, and, most surprising of all, even chemical affinity. All these observations fascinate us, and fill us with an intense desire to know more about the nature of these phenomena. Each day we go to our work in the hope of discovering,—in the hope that some one, no matter who, may find a solution of one of the pending great problems,—and each succeeding day we return to our task with renewed ardor; and even if we are unsuccessful, our work has not been in vain, for in these strivings, in these efforts, we have found hours of untold pleasure, and we have directed our energies to the benefit of mankind.

One reason this branch of science is developing so quickly is the excitement around its experimental study. We wrap a simple iron ring with coils, connect it to a generator, and with awe and joy, we observe the effects of the unusual forces we're creating that let us transform, transmit, and control energy at will. When we properly set up the circuits, we see the mass of iron and wires act as if it were alive, spinning a heavy armature rapidly and powerfully—possibly using energy transmitted from a long distance. We watch how the energy from an alternating current traveling through the wire reveals itself—not just in the wire but also in the surrounding space—in the most astonishing ways, taking forms like heat, light, mechanical energy, and, most surprisingly, even chemical affinity. All these observations captivate us and fill us with a strong desire to learn more about these phenomena. Each day, we approach our work hoping to discover something—hoping that someone, whoever it may be, might solve one of the major challenges ahead—and each day we return to our tasks with renewed enthusiasm; even if we don’t succeed, our efforts aren’t wasted, because in these pursuits, we find hours of immense pleasure, and we channel our energy for the benefit of humanity.

We may take—at random, if you choose—any of the many experiments which may be performed with alternating currents; a few of which only, and by no means the most striking, form the subject of this evening's demonstration: they are all equally interesting, equally inciting to thought.

We can choose—randomly, if you prefer—any of the numerous experiments that can be done with alternating currents; only a few of these, and not necessarily the most impressive, will be the focus of tonight's demonstration: they are all equally fascinating and thought-provoking.

Here is a simple glass tube from which the air has been partially exhausted. I take hold of it; I bring my body in contact with a wire conveying alternating currents of high potential, and the tube in my hand is brilliantly lighted. In whatever position I may put it, wherever I may move it in space, as far as I can reach, its soft, pleasing light persists with undiminished brightness.

Here is a simple glass tube from which the air has been partially removed. I grab it; I bring my body close to a wire carrying high-voltage alternating currents, and the tube in my hand lights up brilliantly. No matter how I position it or where I move it in space, as far as I can reach, its soft, pleasing light remains bright and unchanged.

Here is an exhausted bulb suspended from a single wire. Standing on an insulated support. I grasp it, and a platinum button mounted in it is brought to vivid incandescence.

Here is a tired bulb hanging from a single wire. It's resting on an insulated support. I hold it, and a platinum button inside it lights up brilliantly.

Here, attached to a leading wire, is another bulb, which, as I touch its metallic socket, is filled with magnificent colors of phosphorescent light.

Here, connected to a wire, is another bulb that, as I touch its metal socket, glows with stunning colors of phosphorescent light.

Here still another, which by my fingers' touch casts a shadow—the Crookes shadow, of the stem inside of it.

Here is another one that, by my touch, casts a shadow—the Crookes shadow, from the stem inside it.

Here, again, insulated as I stand on this platform, I bring my body in contact with one of the terminals of the secondary of this induction coil—with the end of a wire many miles long—and you see streams of light break forth from its distant end, which is set in violent vibration.

Here, once more, standing here safely on this platform, I touch one of the terminals of the secondary of this induction coil—with the end of a wire that stretches for miles—and you can see streams of light shooting out from its far end, which is shaking violently.

Here, once more, I attach these two plates of wire gauze to the terminals of the coil. I set them a distance apart, and I set the coil to work. You may see a small spark pass between the plates. I insert a thick plate of one of the best dielectrics between them, and instead of rendering altogether impossible, as we are used to expect, I aid the passage of the discharge, which, as I insert the plate, merely changes in appearance and assumes the form of luminous streams.

Here, once again, I connect these two wire mesh plates to the terminals of the coil. I space them apart and turn on the coil. You can see a small spark jump between the plates. I place a thick sheet of one of the best insulators between them, and instead of completely blocking the discharge as we usually expect, I facilitate its passage, which, as I insert the sheet, merely changes in appearance and takes on the form of glowing streams.

Is there, I ask, can there be, a more interesting study than that of alternating currents?

Is there, I ask, can there be, a more interesting study than that of alternating currents?

In all these investigations, in all these experiments, which are so very, very interesting, for many years past—ever since the greatest experimenter who lectured in this hall discovered its principle—we have had a steady companion, an appliance familiar to every one, a plaything once, a thing of momentous importance now—the induction coil. There is no dearer appliance to the electrician. From the ablest among you, I dare say, down to the inexperienced student, to your lecturer, we all have passed many delightful hours in experimenting with the induction coil. We have watched its play, and thought and pondered over the beautiful phenomena which it disclosed to our ravished eyes. So well known is this apparatus, so familiar are these phenomena to every one, that my courage nearly fails me when I think that I have ventured to address so able an audience, that I have ventured to entertain you with that same old subject. Here in reality is the same apparatus, and here are the same phenomena, only the apparatus is operated somewhat differently, the phenomena are presented in a different aspect. Some of the results we find as expected, others surprise us, but all captivate our attention, for in scientific investigation each novel result achieved may be the centre of a new departure, each novel fact learned may lead to important developments.

In all these investigations and experiments, which are incredibly interesting, for many years now—ever since the greatest experimenter who lectured in this hall discovered its principle—we have had a constant companion, a device familiar to everyone, a toy once, but now something of great importance—the induction coil. There's no more beloved tool for electricians. From the smartest among you down to the inexperienced students, including your lecturer, we have all spent many enjoyable hours experimenting with the induction coil. We've watched its performance and contemplated the beautiful phenomena it reveals to us. This device is so well known, and these phenomena are so familiar to everyone, that I feel a bit intimidated speaking to such a capable audience about this same old subject. Here we have the same device and the same phenomena, just that the device is operated somewhat differently, and the phenomena are presented in a new light. Some of the results meet our expectations, while others surprise us, but all grab our attention because in scientific investigation, each new result can mark a new beginning, and each new fact can lead to significant developments.

Usually in operating an induction coil we have set up a vibration of moderate frequency in the primary, either by means of an interrupter or break, or by the use of an alternator. Earlier English investigators, to mention only Spottiswoode and J.E.H. Gordon, have used a rapid break in connection with the coil. Our knowledge and experience of to-day enables us to see clearly why these coils under the conditions of the tests did not disclose any remarkable phenomena, and why able experimenters failed to perceive many of the curious effects which have since been observed.

Usually, when operating an induction coil, we create a moderate-frequency vibration in the primary using either an interrupter or a break, or by employing an alternator. Earlier English researchers, like Spottiswoode and J.E.H. Gordon, used a quick break with the coil. Our current knowledge and experience allow us to understand clearly why these coils, during the tests, didn’t show any significant phenomena, and why skilled experimenters missed many of the intriguing effects that have been noticed since then.

In the experiments such as performed this evening, we operate the coil either from a specially constructed alternator capable of giving many thousands of reversals of current per second, or, by disruptively discharging a condenser through the primary, we set up a vibration in the secondary circuit of a frequency of many hundred thousand or millions per second, if we so desire; and in using either of these means we enter a field as yet unexplored.

In the experiments conducted this evening, we power the coil either with a specially designed alternator that can deliver thousands of current reversals per second, or by quickly discharging a capacitor through the primary, creating a vibration in the secondary circuit at frequencies of hundreds of thousands or even millions per second, if we choose to. By using either of these methods, we are venturing into an unexplored area.

It is impossible to pursue an investigation in any novel line without finally making some interesting observation or learning some useful fact. That this statement is applicable to the subject of this lecture the many curious and unexpected phenomena which we observe afford a convincing proof. By way of illustration, take for instance the most obvious phenomena, those of the discharge of the induction coil.

It’s impossible to explore a new line of inquiry without eventually discovering something interesting or learning a useful fact. The many curious and unexpected phenomena we observe in this subject provide convincing evidence of this. For example, let's consider the most obvious phenomena: the discharge of the induction coil.

Here is a coil which is operated by currents vibrating with extreme rapidity, obtained by disruptively discharging a Leyden jar. It would not surprise a student were the lecturer to say that the secondary of this coil consists of a small length of comparatively stout wire; it would not surprise him were the lecturer to state that, in spite of this, the coil is capable of giving any potential which the best insulation of the turns is able to withstand: but although he may be prepared, and even be indifferent as to the anticipated result, yet the aspect of the discharge of the coil will surprise and interest him. Every one is familiar with the discharge of an ordinary coil; it need not be reproduced here. But, by way of contrast, here is a form of discharge of a coil, the primary current of which is vibrating several hundred thousand times per second. The discharge of an ordinary coil appears as a simple line or band of light. The discharge of this coil appears in the form of powerful brushes and luminous streams issuing from all points of the two straight wires attached to the terminals of the secondary. (Fig. 1.)

Here is a coil that operates with currents vibrating at extremely high speeds, triggered by discharging a Leyden jar. A student wouldn’t be surprised if the lecturer mentioned that the secondary of this coil is made of a short length of relatively thick wire; they also wouldn't be surprised if the lecturer pointed out that, despite this, the coil can produce any voltage that the best insulation of the turns can handle. However, even if they are prepared and indifferent about the expected outcome, the appearance of the coil's discharge will still surprise and interest them. Everyone is familiar with the discharge from a typical coil; there’s no need to replicate it here. But as a contrast, here is a type of discharge from a coil whose primary current vibrates several hundred thousand times per second. The discharge from a regular coil looks like a simple line or band of light. In contrast, the discharge from this coil appears as powerful brushes and luminous streams coming from all points of the two straight wires connected to the terminals of the secondary. (Fig. 1.)

FIG. 1.—DISCHARGE BETWEEN TWO WIRES WITH FREQUENCIES OF A FEW HUNDRED THOUSAND PER SECOND.

Now compare this phenomenon which you have just witnessed with the discharge of a Holtz or Wimshurst machine—that other interesting appliance so dear to the experimenter. What a difference there is between these phenomena! And yet, had I made the necessary arrangements—which could have been made easily, were it not that they would interfere with other experiments—I could have produced with this coil sparks which, had I the coil hidden from your view and only two knobs exposed, even the keenest observer among you would find it difficult, if not impossible, to distinguish from those of an influence or friction machine. This may be done in many ways—for instance, by operating the induction coil which charges the condenser from an alternating-current machine of very low frequency, and preferably adjusting the discharge circuit so that there are no oscillations set up in it. We then obtain in the secondary circuit, if the knobs are of the required size and properly set, a more or less rapid
succession of sparks of great intensity and small quantity, which possess the same brilliancy, and are accompanied by the same sharp crackling sound, as those obtained from a friction or influence machine.

Now compare this phenomenon that you've just witnessed with the discharge from a Holtz or Wimshurst machine—another fascinating device beloved by experimenters. The difference between these phenomena is striking! Yet, if I had made the necessary arrangements—which could have been done easily if they hadn’t interfered with other experiments—I could have produced with this coil sparks that, if I had hidden the coil from your view and only exposed two knobs, even the most observant among you would find it difficult, if not impossible, to distinguish from those of an influence or friction machine. This can be done in several ways—for example, by operating the induction coil that charges the condenser from a low-frequency alternating-current machine, and preferably adjusting the discharge circuit so that no oscillations occur in it. We then achieve in the secondary circuit, if the knobs are the right size and properly set, a more or less rapid succession of intense, small sparks that possess the same brilliance and are accompanied by the same sharp crackling sound as those produced by a friction or influence machine.

FIG. 2.—IMITATING THE SPARK OF A HOLTZ MACHINE.

Another way is to pass through two primary circuits, having a common secondary, two currents of a slightly different period, which produce in the secondary circuit sparks occurring at comparatively long intervals. But, even with the means at hand this evening, I may succeed in imitating the spark of a Holtz machine. For this purpose I establish between the terminals of the coil which charges the condenser a long, unsteady arc, which is periodically interrupted by the upward current of air produced by it. To increase the current of air I place on each side of the arc, and close to it, a large plate of mica. The condenser charged from this coil discharges into the primary circuit of a second coil through a small air gap, which is necessary to produce a sudden rush of current through the primary. The scheme of connections in the present experiment is indicated in Fig. 2.

Another way is to pass through two main circuits that share a common secondary, with two currents of slightly different periods, creating sparks in the secondary circuit at relatively long intervals. However, even with the equipment I have available tonight, I might be able to replicate the spark from a Holtz machine. For this, I set up a long, unstable arc between the terminals of the coil that charges the condenser, which gets interrupted periodically by the upward air current it creates. To boost the air current, I place a large mica plate on either side of the arc, close to it. The condenser, charged from this coil, discharges into the primary circuit of a second coil through a small air gap, which is necessary to generate a sudden surge of current through the primary. The connection scheme for this experiment is shown in Fig. 2.

G is an ordinarily constructed alternator, supplying the primary P of an induction coil, the secondary S of which charges the condensers or jars C C. The terminals of the secondary are connected to the inside coatings of the jars, the outer coatings being connected to the ends of the primary p p of a second induction coil. This primary p p has a small air gap a b.

G is a standard alternator, providing the primary P for an induction coil, whose secondary S charges the condensers or jars C C. The terminals of the secondary connect to the inner coatings of the jars, while the outer coatings are connected to the ends of the primary p p of a second induction coil. This primary p p has a small air gap a b.

The secondary s of this coil is provided with knobs or spheres K K of the proper size and set at a distance suitable for the experiment.

The secondary s of this coil is equipped with knobs or spheres K K that are the right size and spaced appropriately for the experiment.

A long arc is established between the terminals A B of the first induction coil. M M are the mica plates.

A long arc is created between the terminals A B of the first induction coil. M M are the mica plates.

Each time the arc is broken between A and B the jars are quickly charged and discharged through the primary p p, producing a snapping spark between the knobs K K. Upon the arc forming between A and B the potential falls, and the jars cannot be charged to such high potential as to break through the air gap a b until the arc is again broken by the draught.

Each time the arc breaks between A and B, the jars are quickly charged and discharged through the primary p p, creating a snapping spark between the knobs K K. When the arc forms between A and B, the potential drops, and the jars can’t be charged to a level high enough to jump the air gap a b until the arc is broken again by the draft.

In this manner sudden impulses, at long intervals, are produced in the primary p p, which in the secondary s give a corresponding number of impulses of great intensity. If the secondary knobs or spheres, K K, are of the proper size, the sparks show much resemblance to those of a Holtz machine.

In this way, sudden impulses, occurring at long intervals, are created in the primary p p, which in the secondary s generate a matching number of strong impulses. If the secondary knobs or spheres, K K, are the right size, the sparks are very similar to those produced by a Holtz machine.

But these two effects, which to the eye appear so very different, are only two of the many discharge phenomena. We only need to change the conditions of the test, and again we make other observations of interest.

But these two effects, which look so different to the eye, are just two of the many discharge phenomena. We just need to change the test conditions, and we can make more interesting observations.

When, instead of operating the induction coil as in the last two experiments, we operate it from a high frequency alternator, as in the next experiment, a systematic study of the phenomena is rendered much more easy. In such case, in varying the strength and frequency of the currents through the primary, we may observe five distinct forms of discharge, which I have described in my former paper on the subject [A] before the American Institute of Electrical Engineers, May 20, 1891.

When we use a high-frequency alternator to operate the induction coil instead of how we did in the last two experiments, as we will in the next experiment, it becomes much easier to systematically study the phenomena. In this case, by changing the strength and frequency of the currents through the primary, we can observe five distinct forms of discharge, which I detailed in my previous paper on the subject before the American Institute of Electrical Engineers, May 20, 1891.

See THE ELECTRICAL WORLD, July 11, 1891.

See THE ELECTRICAL WORLD, July 11, 1891.

It would take too much time, and it would lead us too far from the subject presented this evening, to reproduce all these forms, but it seems to me desirable to show you one of them. It is a brush discharge, which is interesting in more than one respect. Viewed from a near position it resembles much a jet of gas escaping under great pressure. We know that the phenomenon is due to the agitation of the molecules near the terminal, and we anticipate that some heat must be developed by the impact of the molecules against the terminal or against each other. Indeed, we find that the brush is hot, and only a little thought leads us to the conclusion that, could we but reach sufficiently high frequencies, we could produce a brush which would give intense light and heat, and which would resemble in every particular an ordinary flame, save, perhaps, that both phenomena might not be due to the same agent—save, perhaps, that chemical affinity might not be electrical in its nature.

It would take too long and stray too far from tonight's topic to go over all these forms, but I think it's useful to show you one of them. It's a brush discharge, which is interesting for several reasons. When viewed up close, it looks a lot like a jet of gas shooting out under high pressure. We know that this phenomenon is caused by the agitation of the molecules near the terminal, and we expect that some heat is generated from the impact of the molecules against the terminal or each other. In fact, we find that the brush is warm, and it isn't hard to conclude that if we could achieve really high frequencies, we could create a brush that would emit intense light and heat, which would look just like a regular flame, except maybe that the two phenomena might not be caused by the same thing—except perhaps that chemical affinity might not be electrical in nature.

As the production of heat and light is here due to the impact of the molecules, or atoms of air, or something else besides, and, as we can augment the energy simply by raising the potential, we might, even with frequencies obtained from a dynamo machine, intensify the action to such a degree as to bring the terminal to melting heat. But with such low frequencies we would have to deal always with something of the nature of an electric current. If I approach a conducting object to the brush, a thin little spark passes, yet, even with the frequencies used this evening, the tendency to spark is not very great. So, for instance, if I hold a metallic sphere at some distance above the terminal you may see the whole space between the terminal and sphere illuminated by the streams without the spark passing; and with the much higher frequencies obtainable by the disruptive discharge of a condenser, were it not for the sudden impulses, which are comparatively few in number, sparking would not occur even at very small distances. However, with incomparably higher frequencies, which we may yet find means to produce efficiently, and provided that electric impulses of such high frequencies could be transmitted through a conductor, the electrical characteristics of the brush discharge would completely vanish—no spark would pass, no shock would be felt—yet we would still have to deal with an electric phenomenon, but in the broad, modern interpretation of the word. In my first paper before referred to I have pointed out the curious properties of the brush, and described the best manner of producing it, but I have thought it worth while to endeavor to express myself more clearly in regard to this phenomenon, because of its absorbing interest.

As heat and light are produced here due to the interaction of air molecules, or atoms, or perhaps something else, and since we can increase the energy just by raising the potential, we could, even using frequencies from a dynamo, boost the action enough to heat the terminal to melting point. However, with such low frequencies, we'd always have to deal with something like an electric current. If I bring a conducting object close to the brush, a small spark jumps, but even with the frequencies used tonight, the sparking tendency isn't very strong. For example, if I hold a metallic sphere a bit above the terminal, you can see the entire space between the terminal and the sphere lit up by the streams without any spark jumping. And with the much higher frequencies we can achieve through the sudden discharge of a capacitor, if it weren't for the sudden impulses, which are quite few, there wouldn't be any sparking even at very short distances. Still, with significantly higher frequencies that we may find efficient ways to create, and if such high-frequency electric impulses could travel through a conductor, the electrical characteristics of the brush discharge would completely disappear—no spark would jump, no shock would be felt—yet we'd still be dealing with an electric phenomenon, but in a broader, modern sense of the term. In my earlier paper I mentioned the interesting properties of the brush and described the best way to create it, but I thought it would be worthwhile to try to explain myself more clearly about this phenomenon because of its fascinating nature.

When a coil is operated with currents of very high frequency, beautiful brush effects may be produced, even if the coil be of comparatively small dimensions. The experimenter may vary them in many ways, and, if it were nothing else, they afford a pleasing sight. What adds to their interest is that they may be produced with one single terminal as well as with two—in fact, often better with one than with two.

When a coil is used with very high-frequency currents, stunning brush effects can occur, even if the coil is relatively small. The experimenter can change these in various ways, and even if it's just that, they are a nice sight. What makes them even more interesting is that they can be created with a single terminal as well as with two—in fact, they often look better with one than with two.

But of all the discharge phenomena observed, the most pleasing to the eye, and the most instructive, are those observed with a coil which is operated by means of the disruptive discharge of a condenser. The power of the brushes, the abundance of the sparks, when the conditions are patiently adjusted, is often amazing. With even a very small coil, if it be so well insulated as to stand a difference of potential of several thousand volts per turn, the sparks may be so abundant that the whole coil may appear a complete mass of fire.

But out of all the discharge effects seen, the most visually stunning and educational are those created by a coil that runs on the disruptive discharge of a capacitor. The strength of the arcs and the volume of the sparks, when everything is carefully tuned, can be truly remarkable. Even with a small coil, as long as it's well insulated to handle a voltage difference of several thousand volts per turn, the sparks can be so plentiful that the entire coil looks like a solid mass of fire.

Curiously enough the sparks, when the terminals of the coil are set at a considerable distance, seem to dart in every possible direction as though the terminals were perfectly independent of each other. As the sparks would soon destroy the insulation it is necessary to prevent them. This is best done by immersing the coil in a good liquid insulator, such as boiled-out oil. Immersion in a liquid may be considered almost an absolute necessity for the continued and successful working of such a coil.

Curiously, when the terminals of the coil are set far apart, the sparks seem to shoot off in every direction, as if the terminals were completely independent of one another. Since the sparks can quickly damage the insulation, it's important to keep them in check. The best way to do this is by submerging the coil in a quality liquid insulator, like boiled-out oil. Immersing the coil in a liquid is almost essential for its ongoing and effective operation.

It is of course out of the question, in an experimental lecture, with only a few minutes at disposal for the performance of each experiment, to show these discharge phenomena to advantage, as to produce each phenomenon at its best a very careful adjustment is required. But even if imperfectly produced, as they are likely to be this evening, they are sufficiently striking to interest an intelligent audience.

It’s definitely not feasible, in a demonstration lecture, with only a few minutes available for each experiment, to showcase these discharge phenomena effectively, as achieving the best result for each phenomenon requires precise adjustments. However, even if they are not presented perfectly, as might happen this evening, they are still impressive enough to capture the interest of a smart audience.

Before showing some of these curious effects I must, for the sake of completeness, give a short description of the coil and other apparatus used in the experiments with the disruptive discharge this evening.

Before showing some of these interesting effects, I need to provide a brief description of the coil and other equipment used in tonight's experiments with the disruptive discharge for the sake of completeness.

FIG. 3.—DISRUPTIVE DISCHARGE COIL.

It is contained in a box B (Fig. 3) of thick boards of hard wood, covered on the outside with zinc sheet Z, which is carefully soldered all around. It might be advisable, in a strictly scientific investigation, when accuracy is of great importance, to do away with the metal cover, as it might introduce many errors, principally on account of its complex action upon the coil, as a condenser of very small capacity and as an electrostatic and electromagnetic screen. When the coil is used for such experiments as are here contemplated, the employment of the metal cover offers some practical advantages, but these are not of sufficient importance to be dwelt upon.

It is contained in a box B (Fig. 3) made of thick, hard wood, covered on the outside with a zinc sheet Z, which is carefully soldered all around. In a strictly scientific investigation, where accuracy is crucial, it may be wise to remove the metal cover, as it could introduce many errors, mainly due to its complex effects on the coil, acting as a tiny capacitor and as an electrostatic and electromagnetic shield. When the coil is used for the types of experiments being discussed, the presence of the metal cover offers some practical benefits, but these are not significant enough to elaborate on.

The coil should be placed symmetrically to the metal cover, and the space between should, of course, not be too small, certainly not less than, say, five centimetres, but much more if possible; especially the two sides of the zinc box, which are at right angles to the axis of the coil, should be sufficiently remote from the latter, as otherwise they might impair its action and be a source of loss.

The coil should be positioned evenly with the metal cover, and there should be enough space in between. Definitely no less than about five centimeters, but more if you can; particularly on the two sides of the zinc box that are perpendicular to the coil's axis, as they need to be far enough away to avoid disrupting its function and causing any loss.

The coil consists of two spools of hard rubber R R, held apart at a distance of 10 centimetres by bolts c and nuts n, likewise of hard rubber. Each spool comprises a tube T of approximately 8 centimetres inside diameter, and 3 millimetres thick, upon which are screwed two flanges F F, 24 centimetres square, the space between the flanges being about 3 centimetres. The secondary, S S, of the best gutta percha-covered wire, has 26 layers, 10 turns in each, giving for each half a total of 260 turns. The two halves are wound oppositely and connected in series, the connection between both being made over the primary. This disposition, besides being convenient, has the advantage that when the coil is well balanced—that is, when both of its terminals T1 T1 are connected to bodies or devices of equal capacity—there is not much danger of breaking through to the primary, and the insulation between the primary and the secondary need not be thick. In using the coil it is advisable to attach to both terminals devices of nearly equal capacity, as, when the capacity of the terminals is not equal, sparks will be apt to pass to the primary. To avoid this, the middle point of the secondary may be connected to the primary, but this is not always practicable.

The coil has two spools made of hard rubber R R, spaced 10 centimeters apart by bolts c and nuts n, which are also made of hard rubber. Each spool consists of a tube T with an inside diameter of about 8 centimeters and a thickness of 3 millimeters, onto which two 24-centimeter square flanges F F are attached, leaving about 3 centimeters of space between the flanges. The secondary S S is made of high-quality gutta-percha-covered wire, with 26 layers and 10 turns in each layer, totaling 260 turns for each half. The two halves are wound in opposite directions and connected in series, with the connection made over the primary. This setup is not only convenient but also helps to ensure that when the coil is well balanced—that is, when both of its terminals T1 T1 are connected to objects or devices of equal capacity—there’s minimal risk of connecting to the primary, and the insulation between the primary and secondary doesn’t need to be very thick. When using the coil, it’s advisable to connect devices of nearly equal capacity to both terminals, since unequal capacity can cause sparks to jump to the primary. To prevent this, you can connect the midpoint of the secondary to the primary, but this isn’t always possible.

The primary P P is wound in two parts, and oppositely, upon a wooden spool W, and the four ends are led out of the oil through hard rubber tubes t t. The ends of the secondary T1 T1 are also led out of the oil through rubber tubes t1 t1 of great thickness. The primary and secondary layers are insulated by cotton cloth, the thickness of the insulation, of course, bearing some proportion to the difference of potential between the turns of the different layers. Each half of the primary has four layers, 24 turns in each, this giving a total of 96 turns. When both the parts are connected in series, this gives a ratio of conversion of about 1:2.7, and with the primaries in multiple, 1:5.4; but in operating with very rapidly alternating currents this ratio does not convey even an approximate idea of the ratio of the E.M.Fs. in the primary and secondary circuits. The coil is held in position in the oil on wooden supports, there being about 5 centimetres thickness of oil all round. Where the oil is not specially needed, the space is filled with pieces of wood, and for this purpose principally the wooden box B surrounding the whole is used.

The main P P is wrapped in two parts, wound in opposite directions, around a wooden spool W, with the four ends running out of the oil through thick rubber tubes t t. The ends of the secondary T1 T1 also exit the oil via rubber tubes t1 t1 that are quite thick. The primary and secondary layers are insulated with cotton cloth, and the thickness of the insulation varies according to the voltage difference between the turns of the different layers. Each half of the primary has four layers, with 24 turns each, for a total of 96 turns. When both parts are connected in series, this results in a conversion ratio of about 1:2.7, and with the primaries in parallel, 1:5.4; however, when using very quickly alternating currents, this ratio doesn't really represent the ratio of the E.M.Fs. in the primary and secondary circuits. The coil is supported in the oil on wooden braces, with about 5 centimeters of oil surrounding it. In areas where the oil isn't specifically needed, the space is filled with pieces of wood, using the wooden box B that encases everything for this purpose.

The construction here shown is, of course, not the best on general principles, but I believe it is a good and convenient one for the production of effects in which an excessive potential and a very small current are needed.

The construction shown here isn’t the best by general standards, but I think it’s a good and practical option for creating effects where a high voltage and a very low current are required.

In connection with the coil I use either the ordinary form of discharger or a modified form. In the former I have introduced two changes which secure some advantages, and which are obvious. If they are mentioned, it is only in the hope that some experimenter may find them of use.

In relation to the coil, I use either the standard type of discharger or a modified version. With the standard one, I’ve made two changes that provide some benefits, which are clear. I mention them only in the hope that some experimenter might find them helpful.

FIG. 4.—ARRANGEMENT OF IMPROVED DISCHARGER AND MAGNET.

One of the changes is that the adjustable knobs A and B (Fig. 4), of the discharger are held in jaws of brass, J J, by spring pressure, this allowing of turning them successively into different positions, and so doing away with the tedious process of frequent polishing up.

One of the changes is that the adjustable knobs A and B (Fig. 4) of the discharger are held in brass jaws, J J, by spring pressure, allowing them to be turned into different positions one after the other, eliminating the tedious process of frequent polishing.

The other change consists in the employment of a strong electromagnet N S, which is placed with its axis at right angles to the line joining the knobs A and B, and produces a strong magnetic field between them. The pole pieces of the magnet are movable and properly formed so as to protrude between the brass knobs, in order to make the field as intense as possible; but to prevent the discharge from jumping to the magnet the pole pieces are protected by a layer of mica, M M, of sufficient thickness. s1 s1 and s2 s2 are screws for fastening the wires. On each side one of the screws is for large and the other for small wires. L L are screws for fixing in position the rods R R, which support the knobs.

The other change involves using a strong electromagnet N S, which is positioned with its axis perpendicular to the line connecting the knobs A and B, creating a powerful magnetic field between them. The pole pieces of the magnet are adjustable and designed to extend between the brass knobs to maximize the intensity of the field; however, to prevent the discharge from jumping to the magnet, the pole pieces are shielded by a layer of mica, M M, of adequate thickness. s1 s1 and s2 s2 are screws for securing the wires. On each side, one screw is for larger wires and the other is for smaller wires. L L are screws for securing the rods R R, which hold the knobs in place.

In another arrangement with the magnet I take the discharge between the rounded pole pieces themselves, which in such case are insulated and preferably provided with polished brass caps.

In another setup with the magnet, I take the discharge between the rounded pole pieces themselves, which in this case are insulated and ideally fitted with polished brass caps.

The employment of an intense magnetic field is of advantage principally when the induction coil or transformer which charges the condenser is operated by currents of very low frequency. In such a case the number of the fundamental discharges between the knobs may be so small as to render the currents produced in the secondary unsuitable for many experiments. The intense magnetic field then serves to blow out the arc between the knobs as soon as it is formed, and the fundamental discharges occur in quicker succession.

Using a strong magnetic field is particularly beneficial when the induction coil or transformer charging the capacitor operates on very low frequency currents. In this situation, the number of basic discharges between the terminals may be so limited that the currents generated in the secondary are not suitable for many experiments. The strong magnetic field helps to extinguish the arc between the terminals as soon as it forms, allowing the basic discharges to happen more rapidly.

Instead of the magnet, a draught or blast of air may be employed with some advantage. In this case the arc is preferably established between the knobs A B, in Fig. 2 (the knobs a b being generally joined, or entirely done away with), as in this disposition the arc is long and unsteady, and is easily affected by the draught.

Instead of using a magnet, a breeze or airflow can be used to some benefit. In this situation, the arc is preferably created between the knobs A B, in Fig. 2 (the knobs a b are usually connected or completely removed), as this setup results in a long and unstable arc, which is easily influenced by the airflow.

FIG. 5.—ARRANGEMENT WITH LOW-FREQUENCY ALTERNATOR AND IMPROVED DISCHARGER.

When a magnet is employed to break the arc, it is better to choose the connection indicated diagrammatically in Fig. 5, as in this case the currents forming the arc are much more powerful, and the magnetic field exercises a greater influence. The use of the magnet permits, however, of the arc being replaced by a vacuum tube, but I have encountered great difficulties in working with an exhausted tube.

When a magnet is used to break the arc, it's better to choose the connection shown in Fig. 5, because in this situation the currents creating the arc are much stronger, and the magnetic field has a bigger impact. Using the magnet does allow for the arc to be replaced with a vacuum tube, but I have faced significant challenges when working with an empty tube.

FIG. 6.—DISCHARGER WITH MULTIPLE GAPS.

The other form of discharger used in these and similar experiments is indicated in Figs. 6 and 7. It consists of a number of brass pieces c c (Fig. 6), each of which comprises a spherical middle portion m with an extension e below—which is merely used to fasten the piece in a lathe when polishing up the discharging surface—and a column above, which consists of a knurled flange f surmounted by a threaded stem l carrying a nut n, by means of which a wire is fastened to the column. The flange f conveniently serves for holding the brass piece when fastening the wire, and also for turning it in any position when it becomes necessary to present a fresh discharging surface. Two stout strips of hard rubber R R, with planed grooves g g (Fig. 7) to fit the middle portion of the pieces c c, serve to clamp the latter and hold them firmly in position by means of two bolts C C (of which only one is shown) passing through the ends of the strips.

The other type of discharger used in these and similar experiments is shown in Figs. 6 and 7. It consists of several brass pieces c c (Fig. 6), each with a rounded middle section m and an extension e underneath, which is simply for securing the piece in a lathe while polishing the discharging surface. Above, there’s a column that has a knurled flange f topped with a threaded stem l, which holds a nut n to attach a wire to the column. The flange f is useful for gripping the brass piece when connecting the wire and also for rotating it to present a fresh discharging surface when necessary. Two sturdy strips of hard rubber R R, with planed grooves g g (Fig. 7) to fit the middle section of the pieces c c, are used to clamp the pieces securely in place with two bolts C C (only one is shown) going through the ends of the strips.

FIG. 7.—DISCHARGER WITH MULTIPLE GAPS.

In the use of this kind of discharger I have found three principal advantages over the ordinary form. First, the dielectric strength of a given total width of air space is greater when a great many small air gaps are used instead of one, which permits of working with a smaller length of air gap, and that means smaller loss and less deterioration of the metal; secondly by reason of splitting the arc up into smaller arcs, the polished surfaces are made to last much longer; and, thirdly, the apparatus affords some gauge in the experiments. I usually set the pieces by putting between them sheets of uniform thickness at a certain very small distance which is known from the experiments of Sir William Thomson to require a certain electromotive force to be bridged by the spark.

Using this type of discharger, I've noticed three main advantages over the regular version. First, the dielectric strength of a given width of air space is greater when using many small air gaps instead of one large gap, which allows for a shorter air gap length, leading to less energy loss and reduced wear on the metal. Secondly, by breaking the arc into smaller arcs, the polished surfaces last much longer. And third, the apparatus provides some gauge during the experiments. I typically set the pieces by placing sheets of uniform thickness between them at a very small distance, which, based on Sir William Thomson's experiments, requires a specific electromotive force for the spark to jump across.

It should, of course, be remembered that the sparking distance is much diminished as the frequency is increased. By taking any number of spaces the experimenter has a rough idea of the electromotive force, and he finds it easier to repeat an experiment, as he has not the trouble of setting the knobs again and again. With this kind of discharger I have been able to maintain an oscillating motion without any spark being visible with the naked eye between the knobs, and they would not show a very appreciable rise in temperature. This form of discharge also lends itself to many arrangements of condensers and circuits which are often very convenient and time-saving. I have used it preferably in a disposition similar to that indicated in Fig. 2, when the currents forming the arc are small.

It should definitely be noted that the sparking distance significantly decreases as the frequency increases. By taking any number of spaces, the experimenter can get a rough idea of the electromotive force, and it makes it easier to repeat an experiment since he doesn't have to keep adjusting the knobs over and over. With this type of discharger, I've managed to maintain an oscillating motion without any spark being visible to the naked eye between the knobs, and they hardly show any noticeable increase in temperature. This type of discharge also allows for various configurations of capacitors and circuits that are often very convenient and time-saving. I've preferred to use it in a setup similar to what's shown in Fig. 2 when the currents creating the arc are small.

I may here mention that I have also used dischargers with single or multiple air gaps, in which the discharge surfaces were rotated with great speed. No particular advantage was, however, gained by this method, except in cases where the currents from the condenser were large and the keeping cool of the surfaces was necessary, and in cases when, the discharge not being oscillating of itself, the arc as soon as established was broken by the air current, thus starting the vibration at intervals in rapid succession. I have also used mechanical interrupters in many ways. To avoid the difficulties with frictional contacts, the preferred plan adopted was to establish the arc and rotate through it at great speed a rim of mica provided with many holes and fastened to a steel plate. It is understood, of course, that the employment of a magnet, air current, or other interrupter, produces no effect worth noticing, unless the self-induction, capacity and resistance are so related that there are oscillations set up upon each interruption.

I should mention that I’ve also used dischargers with single or multiple air gaps, where the discharge surfaces were rotated at very high speeds. However, this method didn’t really provide any particular advantage, except in cases where the currents from the condenser were large and it was necessary to keep the surfaces cool. In situations where the discharge wasn’t oscillating on its own, the arc, once established, was broken by the air current, which then started the vibration at intervals quickly. I’ve also employed mechanical interrupters in various ways. To avoid issues with frictional contacts, the preferred approach was to create the arc and rotate a mica rim with many holes at high speed while it was attached to a steel plate. It’s important to note that using a magnet, air current, or other interrupters doesn’t have a significant effect unless the self-induction, capacitance, and resistance are properly related to produce oscillations with each interruption.

I will now endeavor to show you some of the most note-worthy of these discharge phenomena.

I will now try to show you some of the most notable of these discharge phenomena.

I have stretched across the room two ordinary cotton covered wires, each about 7 metres in length. They are supported on insulating cords at a distance of about 30 centimetres. I attach now to each of the terminals of the coil one of the wires and set the coil in action. Upon turning the lights off in the room you see the wires strongly illuminated by the streams issuing abundantly from their whole surface in spite of the cotton covering, which may even be very thick. When the experiment is performed under good conditions, the light from the wires is sufficiently intense to allow distinguishing the objects in a room. To produce the best result it is, of course, necessary to adjust carefully the capacity of the jars, the arc between the knobs and the length of the wires. My experience is that calculation of the length of the wires leads, in such case, to no result whatever. The experimenter will do best to take the wires at the start very long, and then adjust by cutting off first long pieces, and then smaller and smaller ones as he approaches the right length.

I’ve stretched across the room two regular cotton-covered wires, each about 7 meters long. They’re held up by insulating cords at a distance of about 30 centimeters. I now connect one of the wires to each of the terminals of the coil and turn it on. When I turn off the lights in the room, you can see the wires glowing brightly with streams of light radiating from their entire surface, even through the thick cotton covering. When the experiment is done under good conditions, the light from the wires is bright enough to help distinguish objects in the room. For the best results, it’s important to carefully adjust the capacity of the jars, the distance between the knobs, and the length of the wires. In my experience, calculating the length of the wires doesn’t really lead to any useful results. The experimenter is better off starting with very long wires and then trimming them down by cutting off long pieces first, and then smaller ones as they get closer to the right length.

A convenient way is to use an oil condenser of very small capacity, consisting of two small adjustable metal plates, in connection with this and similar experiments. In such case I take wires rather short and set at the beginning the condenser plates at maximum distance. If the streams for the wires increase by approach of the plates, the length of the wires is about right; if they diminish the wires are too long for that frequency and potential. When a condenser is used in connection with experiments with such a coil, it should be an oil condenser by all means, as in using an air condenser considerable energy might be wasted. The wires leading to the plates in the oil should be very thin, heavily coated with some insulating compound, and provided with a conducting covering—this preferably extending under the surface of the oil. The conducting cover should not be too near the terminals, or ends, of the wire, as a spark would be apt to jump from the wire to it. The conducting coating is used to diminish the air losses, in virtue of its action as an electrostatic screen. As to the size of the vessel containing the oil, and the size of the plates, the experimenter gains at once an idea from a rough trial. The size of the plates in oil is, however, calculable, as the dielectric losses are very small.

A convenient method is to use a small oil condenser made up of two little adjustable metal plates, especially for this and similar experiments. In this case, I use relatively short wires and start with the condenser plates set at maximum distance. If the flow for the wires increases as the plates come closer, the wire length is about right; if it decreases, the wires are too long for that frequency and voltage. When using a condenser with such a coil for experiments, it should definitely be an oil condenser because using an air condenser could waste a lot of energy. The wires leading to the plates in the oil should be very thin, heavily coated with an insulating compound, and equipped with a conductive covering—preferably extending under the surface of the oil. The conductive cover shouldn’t be too close to the terminals of the wire, or a spark might jump from the wire to it. The conductive coating is used to reduce air losses by acting as an electrostatic shield. As for the size of the container holding the oil and the dimensions of the plates, the experimenter can quickly get an idea through a rough trial. However, the size of the plates in oil can be calculated since the dielectric losses are minimal.

In the preceding experiment it is of considerable interest to know what relation the quantity of the light emitted bears to the frequency and potential of the electric impulses. My opinion is that the heat as well as light effects produced should be proportionate, under otherwise equal conditions of test, to the product of frequency and square of potential, but the experimental verification of the law, whatever it may be, would be exceedingly difficult. One thing is certain, at any rate, and that is, that in augmenting the potential and frequency we rapidly intensify the streams; and, though it may be very sanguine, it is surely not altogether hopeless to expect that we may succeed in producing a practical illuminant on these lines. We would then be simply using burners or flames, in which there would be no chemical process, no consumption of material, but merely a transfer of energy, and which would, in all probability emit more light and less heat than ordinary flames.

In the previous experiment, it's quite interesting to understand how the amount of light emitted relates to the frequency and potential of the electric impulses. I believe that the heat and light effects produced should be proportional, under otherwise equal testing conditions, to the product of frequency and the square of the potential. However, validating this law, whatever it turns out to be, would be very challenging. One thing is definitely clear: as we increase the potential and frequency, we quickly intensify the streams. While it might be overly optimistic, it's certainly not entirely unrealistic to hope that we could create a practical light source along these lines. We would essentially be using burners or flames, where there’s no chemical reaction, no material consumption, just a transfer of energy, which would likely produce more light and less heat than regular flames.

The luminous intensity of the streams is, of course, considerably increased when they are focused upon a small surface. This may be shown by the following experiment:

The brightness of the streams is, of course, greatly increased when they are aimed at a small surface. This can be demonstrated by the following experiment:

FIG. 8.—EFFECT PRODUCED BY CONCENTRATING STREAMS.

I attach to one of the terminals of the coil a wire w (Fig. 8), bent in a circle of about 30 centimetres in diameter, and to the other terminal I fasten a small brass sphere s, the surface of the wire being preferably equal to the surface of the sphere, and the centre of the latter being in a line at right angles to the plane of the wire circle and passing through its centre. When the discharge is established under proper conditions, a luminous hollow cone is formed, and in the dark one-half of the brass sphere is strongly illuminated, as shown in the cut.

I connect a wire w (Fig. 8) to one of the terminals of the coil, forming a circle that’s about 30 centimeters in diameter. To the other terminal, I attach a small brass sphere s. The area of the wire should ideally match the area of the sphere, and the center of the sphere should align perpendicularly with the plane of the wire circle, passing through its center. When the discharge occurs under the right conditions, it creates a luminous hollow cone, and in the dark, one half of the brass sphere is brightly lit, as illustrated in the image.

By some artifice or other, it is easy to concentrate the streams upon small surfaces and to produce very strong light effects. Two thin wires may thus be rendered intensely luminous.

By some trick or another, it's easy to focus the beams onto small surfaces and create very bright light effects. Two thin wires can become very luminous.

In order to intensify the streams the wires should be very thin and short; but as in this case their capacity would be generally too small for the coil—at least, for such a one as the present—it is necessary to augment the capacity to the required value, while, at the same time, the surface of the wires remains very small. This may be done in many ways.

To increase the flow, the wires should be really thin and short; however, since their capacity would typically be too small for the coil—at least for one like this—it’s necessary to boost the capacity to the needed level while keeping the surface area of the wires very small. There are several ways to achieve this.

Here, for instance, I have two plates, R R, of hard rubber (Fig. 9), upon which I have glued two very thin wires w w, so as to form a name. The wires may be bare or covered with the best insulation—it is immaterial for the success of the experiment. Well insulated wires, if anything, are preferable. On the back of each plate, indicated by the shaded portion, is a tinfoil coating t t. The plates are placed in line at a sufficient distance to prevent a spark passing from one to the other wire. The two tinfoil coatings I have joined by a conductor C, and the two wires I presently connect to the terminals of the coil. It is now easy, by varying the strength and frequency of the currents through the primary, to find a point at which, the capacity of the system is best suited to the conditions, and the wires become so strongly luminous that, when the light in the room is turned off the name formed by them appears in brilliant letters.

Here, for example, I have two plates, R R, made of hard rubber (Fig. 9), onto which I've attached two very thin wires w w to create a name. The wires can be bare or insulated with the best coating—it's irrelevant for the experiment's success. Well-insulated wires are actually better, if anything. On the back of each plate, marked by the shaded area, there’s a tinfoil coating t t. The plates are arranged in a line, spaced far enough apart to prevent a spark from jumping between the wires. I’ve connected the two tinfoil coatings with a conductor C, and I’m currently attaching the two wires to the terminals of the coil. Now it’s easy, by adjusting the strength and frequency of the currents in the primary, to find a point where the system's capacity matches the conditions best, and the wires become so bright that when the room lights are turned off, the name formed by them shines in brilliant letters.

FIG. 9.—WIRES RENDERED INTENSELY LUMINOUS.

It is perhaps preferable to perform this experiment with a coil operated from an alternator of high frequency, as then, owing to the harmonic rise and fall, the streams are very uniform, though they are less abundant then when produced with such a coil as the present. This experiment, however, may be performed with low frequencies, but much less satisfactorily.

It might be better to carry out this experiment using a coil powered by a high-frequency alternator because, due to the harmonic rise and fall, the currents are very stable, even though they are less abundant than when produced with a coil like the one currently used. However, this experiment can also be done at low frequencies, but with much less satisfactory results.

FIG. 10.—LUMINOUS DISCS.

When two wires, attached to the terminals of the coil, are set at the proper distance, the streams between them may be so intense as to produce a continuous luminous sheet. To show this phenomenon I have here two circles, C and c (Fig. 10), of rather stout wire, one being about 80 centimetres and the other 30 centimetres in diameter. To each of the terminals of the coil I attach one of the circles. The supporting wires are so bent that the circles may be placed in the same plane, coinciding as nearly as possible. When the light in the room is turned off and the coil set to work, you see the whole space between the wires uniformly filled with streams, forming a luminous disc, which could be seen from a considerable distance, such is the intensity of the streams. The outer circle could have been much larger than the present one; in fact, with this coil I have used much larger circles, and I have been able to produce a strongly luminous sheet, covering an area of more than one square metre, which is a remarkable effect with this very small coil. To avoid uncertainty, the circle has been taken smaller, and the area is now about 0.43 square metre.

When two wires connected to the terminals of the coil are positioned at the right distance, the streams between them can be so powerful that they create a continuous glowing sheet. To demonstrate this effect, I have two circles, C and c (Fig. 10), made of fairly thick wire, one measuring about 80 centimeters and the other 30 centimeters in diameter. I attach one of the circles to each terminal of the coil. The supporting wires are bent so that the circles are placed in the same plane, aligning as closely as possible. When the room light is turned off and the coil is activated, you will see the entire space between the wires filled uniformly with streams, forming a glowing disc visible from a significant distance, thanks to the intensity of the streams. The outer circle could have been much larger than it currently is; in fact, with this coil, I've used much larger circles and produced a bright luminous sheet that covered more than one square meter, which is quite an impressive result for such a small coil. To avoid uncertainty, the circle has been made smaller, and now the area is about 0.43 square meter.

The frequency of the vibration, and the quickness of succession of the sparks between the knobs, affect to a marked degree the appearance of the streams. When the frequency is very low, the air gives way in more or less the same manner, as by a steady difference of potential, and the streams consist of distinct threads, generally mingled with thin sparks, which probably correspond to the successive discharges occurring between the knobs. But when the frequency is extremely high, and the arc of the discharge produces a very loud but smooth sound—showing both that oscillation takes place and that the sparks succeed each other with great rapidity—then the luminous streams formed are perfectly uniform. To reach this result very small coils and jars of small capacity should be used. I take two tubes of thick Bohemian glass, about 5 centimetres in diameter and 20 centimetres long. In each of the tubes I slip a primary of very thick copper wire. On the top of each tube I wind a secondary of much thinner gutta-percha covered wire. The two secondaries I connect in series, the primaries preferably in multiple arc. The tubes are then placed in a large glass vessel, at a distance of 10 to 15 centimetres from each other, on insulating supports, and the vessel is filled with boiled out oil, the oil reaching about an inch above the tubes. The free ends of the secondary are lifted out of the oil and placed parallel to each other at a distance of about 10 centimetres. The ends which are scraped should be dipped in the oil. Two four-pint jars joined in series may be used to discharge through the primary. When the necessary adjustments in the length and distance of the wires above the oil and in the arc of discharge are made, a luminous sheet is produced between the wires which is perfectly smooth and textureless, like the ordinary discharge through a moderately exhausted tube.

The frequency of the vibration and the speed of the sparks jumping between the knobs greatly influence the appearance of the streams. When the frequency is very low, the air behaves similarly to a steady difference in potential, resulting in streams that consist of distinct threads, usually mixed with thin sparks that likely correspond to the successive discharges happening between the knobs. However, when the frequency is extremely high, and the arc of the discharge creates a very loud but smooth sound—indicating both oscillation and rapid succession of the sparks—the luminous streams formed are perfectly uniform. To achieve this outcome, you should use very small coils and jars with small capacity. I take two tubes of thick Bohemian glass, about 5 centimeters in diameter and 20 centimeters long. In each tube, I insert a primary coil made of very thick copper wire. On top of each tube, I wind a secondary coil made of much thinner gutta-percha-covered wire. I connect the two secondaries in series and the primaries preferably in multiple arcs. The tubes are then placed in a large glass container, about 10 to 15 centimeters apart, on insulating supports, and the container is filled with boiled oil, the oil reaching about an inch above the tubes. The free ends of the secondary coils are lifted out of the oil and placed parallel to each other about 10 centimeters apart. The scraped ends should be dipped in the oil. You can use two four-pint jars connected in series to discharge through the primary. Once the necessary adjustments in the length and distance of the wires above the oil and in the arc of discharge are made, a luminous sheet is produced between the wires that is perfectly smooth and textureless, similar to the ordinary discharge through a moderately exhausted tube.

I have purposely dwelt upon this apparently insignificant experiment. In trials of this kind the experimenter arrives at the startling conclusion that, to pass ordinary luminous discharges through gases, no particular degree of exhaustion is needed, but that the gas may be at ordinary or even greater pressure. To accomplish this, a very high frequency is essential; a high potential is likewise required, but this is a merely incidental necessity. These experiments teach us that, in endeavoring to discover novel methods of producing light by the agitation of atoms, or molecules, of a gas, we need not limit our research to the vacuum tube, but may look forward quite seriously to the possibility of obtaining the light effects without the use of any vessel whatever, with air at ordinary pressure.

I have intentionally focused on this seemingly minor experiment. In trials like this, the experimenter arrives at the surprising conclusion that to pass regular luminous discharges through gases, no specific level of exhaustion is required; instead, the gas can be at normal or even higher pressure. To achieve this, a very high frequency is crucial; high potential is also necessary, but this is just a secondary requirement. These experiments show us that when trying to find new ways to create light by stirring up the atoms or molecules of a gas, we don't have to restrict our searches to the vacuum tube. We can seriously consider the possibility of producing light effects without any vessel at all, even with air at normal pressure.

Such discharges of very high frequency, which render luminous the air at ordinary pressures, we have probably often occasion to witness in Nature. I have no doubt that if, as many believe, the aurora borealis is produced by sudden cosmic disturbances, such as eruptions at the sun's surface, which set the electrostatic charge of the earth in an extremely rapid vibration, the red glow observed is not confined to the upper rarefied strata of the air, but the discharge traverses, by reason of its very high frequency, also the dense atmosphere in the form of a glow, such as we ordinarily produce in a slightly exhausted tube. If the frequency were very low, or even more so, if the charge were not at all vibrating, the dense air would break down as in a lightning discharge. Indications of such breaking down of the lower dense strata of the air have been repeatedly observed at the occurrence of this marvelous phenomenon; but if it does occur, it can only be attributed to the fundamental disturbances, which are few in number, for the vibration produced by them would be far too rapid to allow a disruptive break. It is the original and irregular impulses which affect the instruments; the superimposed vibrations probably pass unnoticed.

Such high-frequency discharges, which can make the air glow at normal pressures, are likely something we often see in Nature. I believe that if, as many think, the aurora borealis is caused by sudden cosmic events, like eruptions on the sun's surface, which make the Earth's electrostatic charge vibrate extremely quickly, the red light we see isn't just in the upper thin layers of the atmosphere. Instead, this discharge also moves through the denser atmosphere, creating a glow similar to what we produce in a slightly exhausted tube. If the frequency were very low, or if the charge weren't vibrating at all, the dense air would break down like it does in a lightning strike. Signs of this breakdown in the lower dense layers of the air have been observed multiple times during this amazing phenomenon; however, if it happens, it can only be linked to the fundamental disturbances, which are limited in number, because the vibrations they create would be too rapid to cause a breakdown. It's the initial and irregular impulses that affect the instruments; the overlapping vibrations probably go unnoticed.

When an ordinary low frequency discharge is passed through moderately rarefied air, the air assumes a purplish hue. If by some means or other we increase the intensity of the molecular, or atomic, vibration, the gas changes to a white color. A similar change occurs at ordinary pressures with electric impulses of very high frequency. If the molecules of the air around a wire are moderately agitated, the brush formed is reddish or violet; if the vibration is rendered sufficiently intense, the streams become white. We may accomplish this in various ways. In the experiment before shown with the two wires across the room, I have endeavored to secure the result by pushing to a high value both the frequency and potential: in the experiment with the thin wires glued on the rubber plate I have concentrated the action upon a very small surface—in other words, I have worked with a great electric density.

When a regular low-frequency spark passes through somewhat thin air, the air takes on a purplish color. If we somehow increase the intensity of the molecular or atomic vibrations, the gas turns white. A similar change happens at normal pressures with very high-frequency electric impulses. If the air molecules around a wire are somewhat disturbed, the resulting glow is reddish or violet; if the vibrations are intense enough, the streams turn white. We can achieve this in different ways. In the earlier experiment with the two wires across the room, I tried to achieve this by increasing both the frequency and the voltage significantly. In the experiment with the thin wires attached to the rubber plate, I focused the action on a very small area—in other words, I worked with a high electric density.

A most curious form of discharge is observed with such a coil when the frequency and potential are pushed to the extreme limit. To perform the experiment, every part of the coil should be heavily insulated, and only two small spheres—or, better still, two sharp-edged metal discs (d d, Fig. 11) of no more than a few centimetres in diameter—should be exposed to the air. The coil here used is immersed in oil, and the ends of the secondary reaching out of the oil are covered with an air-tight cover of hard rubber of great thickness. All cracks, if there are any, should be carefully stopped up, so that the brush discharge cannot form anywhere except on the small spheres or plates which are exposed to the air. In this case, since there are no large plates or other bodies of capacity attached to the terminals, the coil is capable of an extremely rapid vibration. The potential may be raised by increasing, as far as the experimenter judges proper, the rate of change of the primary current. With a coil not widely differing from the present, it is best to connect the two primaries in multiple arc; but if the secondary should have a much greater number of turns the primaries should preferably be used in series, as otherwise the vibration might be too fast for the secondary. It occurs under these conditions that misty white streams break forth from the edges of the discs and spread out phantom-like into space.

A very interesting type of discharge happens with this coil when the frequency and voltage are pushed to the extreme limits. To conduct the experiment, every part of the coil should be well insulated, and only two small spheres—or even better, two sharp-edged metal discs (d d, Fig. 11) that are just a few centimeters in diameter—should be exposed to the air. The coil used here is submerged in oil, and the ends of the secondary that stick out of the oil are sealed with a thick, airtight hard rubber cover. Any cracks, if there are any, should be carefully sealed so that the brush discharge can only occur on the small spheres or plates exposed to the air. In this setup, since there are no large plates or other bodies of capacity connected to the terminals, the coil can vibrate very quickly. The voltage can be increased by adjusting, as the experimenter sees fit, the rate of change of the primary current. With a coil similar to this one, it’s best to connect the two primaries in multiple arc; however, if the secondary has significantly more turns, the primaries should preferably be used in series, otherwise the vibration might be too fast for the secondary. Under these conditions, misty white streams emerge from the edges of the discs and spread out like phantoms into the air.

FIG. 11.—PHANTOM STREAMS.

With this coil, when fairly well produced, they are about 25 to 30 centimetres long. When the hand is held against them no sensation is produced, and a spark, causing a shock, jumps from the terminal only upon the hand being brought much nearer. If the oscillation of the primary current is rendered intermittent by some means or other, there is a corresponding throbbing of the streams, and now the hand or other conducting object may be brought in still greater proximity to the terminal without a spark being caused to jump.

With this coil, when produced properly, they are about 25 to 30 centimeters long. When you hold your hand against them, you don't feel anything, and a spark that creates a shock only jumps from the terminal when your hand is brought much closer. If the oscillation of the primary current is made intermittent in some way, the streams will also throb, and now your hand or another conductive object can be brought even closer to the terminal without causing a spark to jump.

Among the many beautiful phenomena which may be produced with such a coil I have here selected only those which appear to possess some features of novelty, and lead us to some conclusions of interest. One will not find it at all difficult to produce in the laboratory, by means of it, many other phenomena which appeal to the eye even more than these here shown, but present no particular feature of novelty.

Among the many amazing things that can be created with this coil, I've only picked out those that seem to have some new aspects and lead us to interesting conclusions. You won't find it hard to create many other effects in the lab with it, which are even more visually appealing than the ones shown here, but they don’t offer anything particularly new.

Early experimenters describe the display of sparks produced by an ordinary large induction coil upon an insulating plate separating the terminals. Quite recently Siemens performed some experiments in which fine effects were obtained, which were seen by many with interest. No doubt large coils, even if operated with currents of low frequencies, are capable of producing beautiful effects. But the largest coil ever made could not, by far, equal the magnificent display of streams and sparks obtained from such a disruptive discharge coil when properly adjusted. To give an idea, a coil such as the present one will cover easily a plate of 1 metre in diameter completely with the streams. The best way to perform such experiments is to take a very thin rubber or a glass plate and glue on one side of it a narrow ring of tinfoil of very large diameter, and on the other a circular washer, the centre of the latter coinciding with that of the ring, and the surfaces of both being preferably equal, so as to keep the coil well balanced. The washer and ring should be connected to the terminals by heavily insulated thin wires. It is easy in observing the effect of the capacity to produce a sheet of uniform streams, or a fine network of thin silvery threads, or a mass of loud brilliant sparks, which completely cover the plate.

Early researchers talked about the sparks created by a large induction coil on an insulating plate that separates the terminals. Recently, Siemens conducted some experiments that produced impressive results, capturing the attention of many. It's clear that large coils, even when powered by low-frequency currents, can create stunning effects. However, no coil ever made could compare to the incredible display of streams and sparks produced by a properly adjusted disruptive discharge coil. For example, a coil like the one currently being used can easily cover a plate with a diameter of 1 meter completely with streams. The best method for these experiments is to take a very thin rubber or glass plate and attach a wide ring of tinfoil to one side, while on the other side, place a circular washer that aligns with the ring. The surfaces of both should ideally be equal to keep the coil balanced. The washer and ring should be connected to the terminals using heavily insulated thin wires. It's easy to observe how the capacity can create a sheet of uniform streams, a delicate network of thin silvery threads, or a burst of loud brilliant sparks that completely cover the plate.

Since I have advanced the idea of the conversion by means of the disruptive discharge, in my paper before the American Institute of Electrical Engineers at the beginning of the past year, the interest excited in it has been considerable. It affords us a means for producing any potentials by the aid of inexpensive coils operated from ordinary systems of distribution, and—what is perhaps more appreciated—it enables us to convert currents of any frequency into currents of any other lower or higher frequency. But its chief value will perhaps be found in the help which it will afford us in the investigations of the phenomena of phosphorescence, which a disruptive discharge coil is capable of exciting in innumerable cases where ordinary coils, even the largest, would utterly fail.

Since I presented the idea of conversion through disruptive discharge in my paper to the American Institute of Electrical Engineers at the start of last year, there has been a significant interest in it. It provides a way to generate any voltage using inexpensive coils powered by standard distribution systems, and—what many might find more valuable—it allows us to convert currents of any frequency into currents of any other lower or higher frequency. However, its greatest value may be found in the assistance it offers for investigating the phenomena of phosphorescence, which a disruptive discharge coil can excite in countless situations where standard coils, even the largest ones, would completely fail.

Considering its probable uses for many practical purposes, and its possible introduction into laboratories for scientific research, a few additional remarks as to the construction of such a coil will perhaps not be found superfluous.

Considering its likely uses for many practical purposes, and its potential introduction into labs for scientific research, a few extra comments about how to construct such a coil might not be unnecessary.

It is, of course, absolutely necessary to employ in such a coil wires provided with the best insulation.

It is definitely essential to use wires with the best insulation in such a coil.

Good coils may be produced by employing wires covered with several layers of cotton, boiling the coil a long time in pure wax, and cooling under moderate pressure. The advantage of such a coil is that it can be easily handled, but it cannot probably give as satisfactory results as a coil immersed in pure oil. Besides, it seems that the presence of a large body of wax affects the coil disadvantageously, whereas this does not seem to be the case with oil. Perhaps it is because the dielectric losses in the liquid are smaller.

Good coils can be made by using wires coated with multiple layers of cotton, boiling the coil for an extended period in pure wax, and then cooling it under moderate pressure. The benefit of this type of coil is that it's easy to handle, but it likely won't provide results as good as a coil soaked in pure oil. Additionally, it appears that having a large amount of wax negatively impacts the coil, while that doesn’t seem to happen with oil. This might be because the dielectric losses in the liquid are lower.

I have tried at first silk and cotton covered wires with oil immersion, but I have been gradually led to use gutta-percha covered wires, which proved most satisfactory. Gutta-percha insulation adds, of course, to the capacity of the coil, and this, especially if the coil be large, is a great disadvantage when extreme frequencies are desired; but on the other hand, gutta-percha will withstand much more than an equal thickness of oil, and this advantage should be secured at any price. Once the coil has been immersed, it should never be taken out of the oil for more than a few hours, else the gutta-percha will crack up and the coil will not be worth half as much as before. Gutta-percha is probably slowly attacked by the oil, but after an immersion of eight to nine months I have found no ill effects.

I initially experimented with silk and cotton covered wires immersed in oil, but I've gradually started using gutta-percha covered wires, which have turned out to be much better. The gutta-percha insulation increases the coil's capacity, which can be a significant drawback when you need very high frequencies, especially with larger coils. However, gutta-percha can handle much more than an equal thickness of oil, and this advantage is worth securing at all costs. Once the coil is immersed, it should never be taken out of the oil for more than a few hours; otherwise, the gutta-percha will start to crack, and the coil will lose a lot of its value. Gutta-percha might be gradually affected by the oil, but after being immersed for eight to nine months, I haven't noticed any negative effects.

I have obtained in commerce two kinds of gutta-percha wire: in one the insulation sticks tightly to the metal, in the other it does not. Unless a special method is followed to expel all air, it is much safer to use the first kind. I wind the coil within an oil tank so that all interstices are filled up with the oil. Between the layers I use cloth boiled out thoroughly in oil, calculating the thickness according to the difference of potential between the turns. There seems not to be a very great difference whatever kind of oil is used; I use paraffine or linseed oil.

I have acquired two types of gutta-percha wire in commerce: in one, the insulation adheres tightly to the metal, while in the other, it doesn't. Unless a specific method is used to remove all air, it's much safer to go with the first type. I wind the coil inside an oil tank to ensure that all gaps are filled with oil. Between the layers, I use cloth that has been thoroughly boiled in oil, adjusting the thickness based on the potential difference between the turns. There doesn’t seem to be a significant difference regardless of the type of oil used; I prefer paraffin or linseed oil.

To exclude more perfectly the air, an excellent way to proceed, and easily practicable with small coils, is the following: Construct a box of hard wood of very thick boards which have been for a long time boiled in oil. The boards should be so joined as to safely withstand the external air pressure. The coil being placed and fastened in position within the box, the latter is closed with a strong lid, and covered with closely fitting metal sheets, the joints of which are soldered very carefully. On the top two small holes are drilled, passing through the metal sheet and the wood, and in these holes two small glass tubes are inserted and the joints made air-tight. One of the tubes is connected to a vacuum pump, and the other with a vessel containing a sufficient quantity of boiled-out oil. The latter tube has a very small hole at the bottom, and is provided with a stopcock. When a fairly good vacuum has been obtained, the stopcock is opened and the oil slowly fed in. Proceeding in this manner, it is impossible that any big bubbles, which are the principal danger, should remain between the turns. The air is most completely excluded, probably better than by boiling out, which, however, when gutta-percha coated wires are used, is not practicable.

To more effectively eliminate the air, a great method that's easy to do with small coils is as follows: Build a box out of thick, hard wood that has been boiled in oil for a long time. The boards should be joined together securely to handle the pressure from the outside air. Once the coil is placed and secured inside the box, close it with a strong lid and cover it with tightly fitting metal sheets, making sure to carefully solder all the joints. On the top, drill two small holes that go through the metal sheet and the wood, then insert two small glass tubes and seal the joints to be air-tight. One tube connects to a vacuum pump, and the other connects to a container with enough boiled-out oil. The second tube has a very small hole at the bottom and has a stopcock. Once a good vacuum is reached, open the stopcock to slowly introduce the oil. Doing it this way ensures that no large bubbles, which pose the main risk, are left trapped between the coils. This method does a better job of excluding air than boiling out, which isn’t feasible when using gutta-percha coated wires.

For the primaries I use ordinary line wire with a thick cotton coating. Strands of very thin insulated wires properly interlaced would, of course, be the best to employ for the primaries, but they are not to be had.

For the primaries, I use regular wire with a thick cotton coating. Strands of very thin insulated wires properly interlaced would definitely be the best to use for the primaries, but they’re not available.

In an experimental coil the size of the wires is not of great importance. In the coil here used the primary is No. 12 and the secondary No. 24 Brown & Sharpe gauge wire; but the sections may be varied considerably. It would only imply different adjustments; the results aimed at would not be materially affected.

In an experimental coil, the wire size isn't very significant. In the coil we're using, the primary is No. 12 and the secondary is No. 24 Brown & Sharpe gauge wire; however, the sizes can vary quite a bit. It would just mean different adjustments; the intended results wouldn't be greatly impacted.

I have dwelt at some length upon the various forms of brush discharge because, in studying them, we not only observe phenomena which please our eye, but also afford us food for thought, and lead us to conclusions of practical importance. In the use of alternating currents of very high tension, too much precaution cannot be taken to prevent the brush discharge. In a main conveying such currents, in an induction coil or transformer, or in a condenser, the brush discharge is a source of great danger to the insulation. In a condenser especially the gaseous matter must be most carefully expelled, for in it the charged surfaces are near each other, and if the potentials are high, just as sure as a weight will fall if let go, so the insulation will give way if a single gaseous bubble of some size be present, whereas, if all gaseous matter were carefully excluded, the condenser would safely withstand a much higher difference of potential. A main conveying alternating currents of very high tension may be injured merely by a blow hole or small crack in the insulation, the more so as a blowhole is apt to contain gas at low pressure; and as it appears almost impossible to completely obviate such little imperfections, I am led to believe that in our future distribution of electrical energy by currents of very high tension liquid insulation will be used. The cost is a great drawback, but if we employ an oil as an insulator the distribution of electrical energy with something like 100,000 volts, and even more, become, at least with higher frequencies, so easy that they could be hardly called engineering feats. With oil insulation and alternate current motors transmissions of power can be effected with safety and upon an industrial basis at distances of as much as a thousand miles.

I have spent some time discussing the different types of brush discharge because, in studying them, we not only see visually appealing phenomena, but also gain insights that lead us to important practical conclusions. When using alternating currents at very high voltage, we need to take every precaution to prevent brush discharge. In a main line carrying these currents, in an induction coil or transformer, or in a capacitor, brush discharge poses a serious risk to insulation. In a capacitor, especially, the gaseous material must be carefully eliminated, as the charged surfaces are close together, and if the voltages are high, just like a weight will fall if released, the insulation will fail if a sizable gaseous bubble is present. If all gaseous matter is removed, the capacitor can withstand much higher voltage differences. A main line carrying high voltage alternating currents can be damaged by even a small hole or crack in the insulation, particularly since a blowhole is likely to contain gas at low pressure. Given that it seems nearly impossible to completely eliminate these minor imperfections, I believe that in the future, when distributing electrical energy via very high voltage, liquid insulation will be used. The cost is a significant drawback, but if we use oil as an insulator, distributing electrical energy at around 100,000 volts—or even higher—becomes relatively straightforward, especially at higher frequencies, so much so that it could hardly be considered an engineering challenge. With oil insulation and alternating current motors, we can safely transmit power over industrial distances of up to a thousand miles.

A peculiar property of oils, and liquid insulation in general, when subjected to rapidly changing electric stresses, is to disperse any gaseous bubbles which may be present, and diffuse them through its mass, generally long before any injurious break can occur. This feature may be easily observed with an ordinary induction coil by taking the primary out, plugging up the end of the tube upon which the secondary is wound, and filling it with some fairly transparent insulator, such as paraffine oil. A primary of a diameter something like six millimetres smaller than the inside of the tube may be inserted in the oil. When the coil is set to work one may see, looking from the top through the oil, many luminous points—air bubbles which are caught by inserting the primary, and which are rendered luminous in consequence of the violent bombardment. The occluded air, by its impact against the oil, heats it; the oil begins to circulate, carrying some of the air along with it, until the bubbles are dispersed and the luminous points disappear. In this manner, unless large bubbles are occluded in such way that circulation is rendered impossible, a damaging break is averted, the only effect being a moderate warming up of the oil. If, instead of the liquid, a solid insulation, no matter how thick, were used, a breaking through and injury of the apparatus would be inevitable.

A strange property of oils, and liquid insulation in general, when exposed to rapidly changing electric stresses, is their ability to break up any gas bubbles that may be present and spread them throughout the liquid, often long before any harmful rupture can happen. This can be easily demonstrated with a regular induction coil by removing the primary, sealing the end of the tube where the secondary is wound, and filling it with a relatively clear insulator like paraffin oil. A primary that is about six millimeters smaller in diameter than the inside of the tube can be placed in the oil. When the coil is activated, you can observe many bright spots—air bubbles trapped when inserting the primary—that glow due to the intense bombardment. The trapped air heats the oil upon impact, causing it to circulate and carry some of the air with it until the bubbles are dispersed and the bright spots fade away. In this way, unless large bubbles are trapped in a manner that blocks circulation, a damaging rupture is prevented, with the only effect being a slight warming of the oil. If solid insulation, regardless of its thickness, were used instead of the liquid, a breakdown and damage to the equipment would be unavoidable.

The exclusion of gaseous matter from any apparatus in which the dielectric is subjected to more or less rapidly changing electric forces is, however, not only desirable in order to avoid a possible injury of the apparatus, but also on account of economy. In a condenser, for instance, as long as only a solid or only a liquid dielectric is used, the loss is small; but if a gas under ordinary or small pressure be present the loss may be very great. Whatever the nature of the force acting in the dielectric may be, it seems that in a solid or liquid the molecular displacement produced by the force is small; hence the product of force and displacement is insignificant, unless the force be very great; but in a gas the displacement, and therefore this product, is considerable; the molecules are free to move, they reach high speeds, and the energy of their impact is lost in heat or otherwise. If the gas be strongly compressed, the displacement due to the force is made smaller, and the losses are reduced.

The removal of gas from any device where the dielectric is exposed to rapidly changing electric forces is not only important to prevent potential damage to the device but also for cost-effectiveness. For example, in a capacitor, as long as only a solid or liquid dielectric is used, the energy loss is minimal; however, if a gas under normal or low pressure is present, the loss can be significant. Regardless of the type of force acting in the dielectric, it appears that in solids or liquids, the molecular displacement caused by the force is small; therefore, the product of force and displacement is negligible unless the force is very high. In contrast, in a gas, the displacement and the resulting product are substantial; the molecules can move freely, reach high speeds, and the energy from their collisions is dissipated as heat or in other ways. If the gas is highly compressed, the displacement caused by the force becomes smaller, thereby reducing the losses.

In most of the succeeding experiments I prefer, chiefly on account of the regular and positive action, to employ the alternator before referred to. This is one of the several machines constructed by me for the purposes of these investigations. It has 384 pole projections, and is capable of giving currents of a frequency of about 10,000 per second. This machine has been illustrated and briefly described in my first paper before the American Institute of Electrical Engineers, May 20, 1891, to which I have already referred. A more detailed description, sufficient to enable any engineer to build a similar machine, will be found in several electrical journals of that period.

In most of the following experiments, I prefer to use the alternator mentioned earlier, mainly because of its consistent and reliable performance. This is one of several machines I built for these investigations. It has 384 pole projections and can produce currents at a frequency of about 10,000 per second. I illustrated and briefly described this machine in my first paper presented to the American Institute of Electrical Engineers on May 20, 1891, which I've already mentioned. A more detailed description, enough for any engineer to construct a similar machine, can be found in several electrical journals from that time.

The induction coils operated from the machine are rather small, containing from 5,000 to 15,000 turns in the secondary. They are immersed in boiled-out linseed oil, contained in wooden boxes covered with zinc sheet.

The induction coils functioned from the machine are quite small, having between 5,000 and 15,000 turns in the secondary. They are immersed in purified linseed oil, housed in wooden boxes that are covered with zinc sheets.

I have found it advantageous to reverse the usual position of the wires, and to wind, in these coils, the primaries on the top; this allowing the use of a much bigger primary, which, of course, reduces the danger of overheating and increases the output of the coil. I make the primary on each side at least one centimetre shorter than the secondary, to prevent the breaking through on the ends, which would surely occur unless the insulation on the top of the secondary be very thick, and this, of course, would be disadvantageous.

I’ve discovered that it’s helpful to switch the typical setup of the wires and to place the primaries on top in these coils. This lets us use a much larger primary, which reduces the risk of overheating and boosts the coil's output. I make the primary on each side at least one centimeter shorter than the secondary to avoid any breakdown at the ends, which would definitely happen unless the insulation on top of the secondary is very thick, and that would be a downside, of course.

When the primary is made movable, which is necessary in some experiments, and many times convenient for the purposes of adjustment, I cover the secondary with wax, and turn it off in a lathe to a diameter slightly smaller than the inside of the primary coil. The latter I provide with a handle reaching out of the oil, which serves to shift it in any position along the secondary.

When the primary is made movable, which is necessary for some experiments and often convenient for adjustments, I cover the secondary in wax and turn it on a lathe to a diameter that’s slightly smaller than the inside of the primary coil. I attach a handle to the primary that extends out of the oil, allowing it to be shifted into any position along the secondary.

I will now venture to make, in regard to the general manipulation of induction coils, a few observations bearing upon points which have not been fully appreciated in earlier experiments with such coils, and are even now often overlooked.

I will now attempt to share some observations about the general use of induction coils, focusing on points that were not fully recognized in earlier experiments with these coils and are still often overlooked today.

The secondary of the coil possesses usually such a high self-induction that the current through the wire is inappreciable, and may be so even when the terminals are joined by a conductor of small resistance. If capacity is added to the terminals, the self-induction is counteracted, and a stronger current is made to flow through the secondary, though its terminals are insulated from each other. To one entirely unacquainted with the properties of alternating currents nothing will look more puzzling. This feature was illustrated in the experiment performed at the beginning with the top plates of wire gauze attached to the terminals and the rubber plate. When the plates of wire gauze were close together, and a small arc passed between them, the arc prevented a strong current from passing through the secondary, because it did away with the capacity on the terminals; when the rubber plate was inserted between, the capacity of the condenser formed counteracted the self-induction of the secondary, a stronger current passed now, the coil performed more work, and the discharge was by far more powerful.

The secondary of the coil usually has such a high self-induction that the current flowing through the wire is negligible, and this can happen even when the terminals are connected by a low-resistance conductor. If capacitance is added to the terminals, it counteracts the self-induction, and a stronger current flows through the secondary, even though its terminals are insulated from each other. To someone completely unfamiliar with the properties of alternating currents, this can seem very confusing. This was demonstrated in the experiment conducted at the beginning with the top plates of wire gauze connected to the terminals and the rubber plate. When the wire gauze plates were placed close together and a small arc formed between them, the arc prevented a strong current from flowing through the secondary because it eliminated the capacitance at the terminals. However, when the rubber plate was inserted in between, the capacitance of the formed condenser counteracted the self-induction of the secondary, allowing a stronger current to flow, the coil to perform more work, and the discharge to be significantly more powerful.

The first thing, then, in operating the induction coil is to combine capacity with the secondary to overcome the self-induction. If the frequencies and potentials are very high gaseous matter should be carefully kept away from the charged surfaces. If Leyden jars are used, they should be immersed in oil, as otherwise considerable dissipation may occur if the jars are greatly strained. When high frequencies are used, it is of equal importance to combine a condenser with the primary. One may use a condenser connected to the ends of the primary or to the terminals of the alternator, but the latter is not to be recommended, as the machine might be injured. The best way is undoubtedly to use the condenser in series with the primary and with the alternator, and to adjust its capacity so as to annul the self-induction of both the latter. The condenser should be adjustable by very small steps, and for a finer adjustment a small oil condenser with movable plates may be used conveniently.

The first thing to do when operating the induction coil is to combine capacity with the secondary to counteract self-induction. If the frequencies and voltages are very high, it's crucial to keep gaseous materials away from the charged surfaces. If Leyden jars are used, they should be placed in oil, otherwise significant energy loss can happen if the jars are overstressed. When using high frequencies, it’s equally important to pair a condenser with the primary. You can connect a condenser to the ends of the primary or to the terminals of the alternator, but the latter is not recommended as it could damage the machine. The best approach is to use the condenser in series with both the primary and the alternator, adjusting its capacity to cancel out the self-induction of both. The condenser should be adjustable in very small increments, and for finer adjustments, a small oil condenser with movable plates can be conveniently used.

I think it best at this juncture to bring before you a phenomenon, observed by me some time ago, which to the purely scientific investigator may perhaps appear more interesting than any of the results which I have the privilege to present to you this evening.

I believe it's best right now to present a phenomenon that I observed some time ago, which might seem more interesting to a purely scientific investigator than any of the results I have the privilege of sharing with you this evening.

It may be quite properly ranked among the brush phenomena—in fact, it is a brush, formed at, or near, a single terminal in high vacuum.

It can be accurately categorized as one of the brush phenomena—in fact, it is a brush created at or near a single terminal in high vacuum.

In bulbs provided with a conducting terminal, though it be of aluminium, the brush has but an ephemeral existence, and cannot, unfortunately, be indefinitely preserved in its most sensitive state, even in a bulb devoid of any conducting electrode. In studying the phenomenon, by all means a bulb having no leading-in wire should be used. I have found it best to use bulbs constructed as indicated in Figs. 12 and 13.

In bulbs with a conducting terminal, even if it's made of aluminum, the brush only lasts a short time and, unfortunately, can't be kept indefinitely in its most sensitive state, even in a bulb without any conducting electrode. To study this phenomenon, it's best to use a bulb that doesn't have any leading-in wire. I've found that bulbs made as shown in Figs. 12 and 13 work best.

FIG. 12. FIG. 13. BULBS FOR PRODUCING ROTATING BRUSH.

In Fig. 12 the bulb comprises an incandescent lamp globe L, in the neck of which is sealed a barometer tube b, the end of which is blown out to form a small sphere s. This sphere should be sealed as closely as possible in the centre of the large globe. Before sealing, a thin tube t, of aluminium sheet, may be slipped in the barometer tube, but it is not important to employ it.

In Fig. 12, the bulb includes an incandescent lamp globe L, in the neck of which a barometer tube b is sealed, with the end shaped into a small sphere s. This sphere should be sealed tightly in the center of the larger globe. Before sealing, a thin tube t made of aluminum sheet can be inserted into the barometer tube, but using it isn’t essential.

The small hollow sphere s is filled with some conducting powder, and a wire w is cemented in the neck for the purpose of connecting the conducting powder with the generator.

The small hollow sphere s is filled with conductive powder, and a wire w is fixed in the neck to connect the conductive powder to the generator.

The construction shown in Fig. 13 was chosen in order to remove from the brush any conducting body which might possibly affect it. The bulb consists in this case of a lamp globe L, which has a neck n, provided with a tube b and small sphere s, sealed to it, so that two entirely independent compartments are formed, as indicated in the drawing. When the bulb is in use, the neck n is provided with a tinfoil coating, which is connected to the generator and acts inductively upon the moderately rarefied and highly conducting gas inclosed in the neck. From there the current passes through the tube b into the small sphere s to act by induction upon the gas contained in the globe L.

The setup shown in Fig. 13 was selected to eliminate any conducting material from the brush that could potentially influence it. In this instance, the bulb consists of a lamp globe L that has a neck n, fitted with a tube b and a small sphere s, which are sealed together, creating two completely separate compartments as depicted in the drawing. When the bulb is operational, the neck n has a tinfoil coating that connects to the generator and acts inductively on the moderately rarefied and highly conductive gas enclosed in the neck. The current then flows through the tube b into the small sphere s to influence the gas inside the globe L by induction.

It is of advantage to make the tube t very thick, the hole through it very small, and to blow the sphere s very thin. It is of the greatest importance that the sphere s be placed in the centre of the globe L.

It’s beneficial to make the tube t quite thick, the hole through it very small, and to blow the sphere s very thin. It’s crucial that the sphere s is positioned in the center of the globe L.

FIG. 14.—FORMS AND PHASES OF THE ROTATING BRUSH.

Figs. 14, 15 and 16 indicate different forms, or stages, of the brush. Fig. 14 shows the brush as it first appears in a bulb provided with a conducting terminal; but, as in such a bulb it very soon disappears—often after a few minutes—I will confine myself to the description of the phenomenon as seen in a bulb without conducting electrode. It is observed under the following conditions:

Figs. 14, 15, and 16 show different shapes or stages of the brush. Fig. 14 displays the brush right when it appears in a bulb with a conducting terminal; however, since it quickly disappears in such a bulb—often after just a few minutes—I will focus on describing the phenomenon as it appears in a bulb without a conducting electrode. It is observed under the following conditions:

When the globe L (Figs. 12 and 13) is exhausted to a very high degree, generally the bulb is not excited upon connecting the wire w (Fig. 12) or the tinfoil coating of the bulb (Fig. 13) to the terminal of the induction coil. To excite it, it is usually sufficient to grasp the globe L with the hand. An intense phosphorescence then spreads at first over the globe, but soon gives place to a white, misty light. Shortly afterward one may notice that the luminosity is unevenly distributed in the globe, and after passing the current for some time the bulb appears as in Fig. 15. From this stage the phenomenon will gradually pass to that indicated in Fig. 16, after some minutes, hours, days or weeks, according as the bulb is worked. Warming the bulb or increasing the potential hastens the transit.

When the globe L (Figs. 12 and 13) is highly exhausted, usually the bulb doesn’t light up when you connect the wire w (Fig. 12) or the tinfoil coating of the bulb (Fig. 13) to the terminal of the induction coil. To get it to light, it's typically enough to hold the globe L in your hand. An intense phosphorescence will initially spread over the globe, but soon it will change to a white, misty light. After a little while, you might notice that the brightness is unevenly spread throughout the globe, and after running the current for some time, the bulb will look like it does in Fig. 15. From this point, the effect will gradually transition to what’s shown in Fig. 16, after a few minutes, hours, days, or weeks, depending on how the bulb is used. Warming up the bulb or increasing the voltage speeds up the process.

FIG. 15. FIG. 16. FORMS AND PHASES OF THE ROTATING BRUSH.

When the brush assumes the form indicated in Fig. 16, it maybe brought to a state of extreme sensitiveness to electrostatic and magnetic influence. The bulb hanging straight down from a wire, and all objects being remote from it, the approach of the observer at a few paces from the bulb will cause the brush to fly to the opposite side, and if he walks around the bulb it will always keep on the opposite side. It may begin to spin around the terminal long before it reaches that sensitive stage. When it begins to turn around principally, but also before, it is affected by a magnet, and at a certain stage it is susceptible to magnetic influence to an astonishing degree. A small permanent magnet, with its poles at a distance of no more than two centimetres, will affect it visibly at a distance of two metres, slowing down or accelerating the rotation according to how it is held relatively to the brush. I think I have observed that at the stage when it is most sensitive to magnetic, it is not most sensitive to electrostatic, influence. My explanation is, that the electrostatic attraction between the brush and the glass of the bulb, which retards the rotation, grows much quicker than the magnetic influence when the intensity of the stream is increased.

When the brush takes on the shape shown in Fig. 16, it can become extremely sensitive to electrostatic and magnetic influences. With the bulb hanging straight down from a wire and all objects kept at a distance, if an observer approaches within a few paces of the bulb, the brush will move to the opposite side. If the observer walks around the bulb, the brush will remain on the opposite side. It may start to spin around the terminal long before it reaches that highly sensitive stage. As it begins to mainly turn around, and even a bit earlier, it reacts to a magnet, becoming surprisingly susceptible to magnetic forces at a certain point. A small permanent magnet, with its poles less than two centimeters apart, will visibly influence it from a distance of two meters, either slowing down or speeding up the rotation depending on the magnet's position relative to the brush. I've noticed that when it's most sensitive to magnetic forces, it isn't as sensitive to electrostatic attraction. I believe this is because the electrostatic attraction between the brush and the glass of the bulb, which slows the rotation, increases much faster than the magnetic influence when the intensity of the stream increases.

When the bulb hangs with the globe L down, the rotation is always clockwise. In the southern hemisphere it would occur in the opposite direction and on the equator the brush should not turn at all. The rotation may be reversed by a magnet kept at some distance. The brush rotates best, seemingly, when it is at right angles to the lines of force of the earth. It very likely rotates, when at its maximum speed, in synchronism with the alternations, say 10,000 times a second. The rotation can be slowed down or accelerated by the approach or receding of the observer, or any conducting body, but it cannot be reversed by putting the bulb in any position. When it is in the state of the highest sensitiveness and the potential or frequency be varied the sensitiveness is rapidly diminished. Changing either of these but little will generally stop the rotation. The sensitiveness is likewise affected by the variations of temperature. To attain great sensitiveness it is necessary to have the small sphere s in the centre of the globe L, as otherwise the electrostatic action of the glass of the globe will tend to stop the rotation. The sphere s should be small and of uniform thickness; any dissymmetry of course has the effect to diminish the sensitiveness.

When the bulb hangs with the globe L facing down, it always rotates clockwise. In the southern hemisphere, it would spin in the opposite direction, and at the equator, the brush shouldn't turn at all. You can reverse the rotation with a magnet held at some distance. The brush seems to rotate best when it’s at right angles to the Earth's magnetic field lines. It likely spins in sync at maximum speed, around 10,000 times a second. The rotation can be slowed down or sped up by the observer’s movement or by any conducting object nearby, but it can't be reversed by changing the bulb's position. When it’s at peak sensitivity and you vary the potential or frequency, the sensitivity decreases rapidly. Even minor adjustments to either can usually stop the rotation. Sensitivity is also influenced by temperature changes. To achieve high sensitivity, the small sphere s needs to be at the center of the globe L; otherwise, the electrostatic effect of the glass will hinder the rotation. The sphere s should be small and uniformly thick; any asymmetry will reduce sensitivity.

The fact that the brush rotates in a definite direction in a permanent magnetic field seems to show that in alternating currents of very high frequency the positive and negative impulses are not equal, but that one always preponderates over the other.

The fact that the brush spins in a specific direction within a constant magnetic field suggests that in very high-frequency alternating currents, the positive and negative impulses are not equal, but that one consistently outweighs the other.

Of course, this rotation in one direction may be due to the action of two elements of the same current upon each other, or to the action of the field produced by one of the elements upon the other, as in a series motor, without necessarily one impulse being stronger than the other. The fact that the brush turns, as far as I could observe, in any position, would speak for this view. In such case it would turn at any point of the earth's surface. But, on the other hand, it is then hard to explain why a permanent magnet should reverse the rotation, and one must assume the preponderance of impulses of one kind.

Of course, this rotation in one direction could be the result of two elements of the same current affecting each other, or due to the influence of the field created by one element on the other, like in a series motor, without necessarily one impulse being stronger than the other. The fact that the brush turns, as far as I could tell, in any position supports this idea. In that case, it would turn at any point on the earth's surface. However, on the other hand, it’s difficult to explain why a permanent magnet would reverse the rotation, so we have to assume that the impulses of one kind are stronger.

As to the causes of the formation of the brush or stream, I think it is due to the electrostatic action of the globe and the dissymmetry of the parts. If the small bulb s and the globe L were perfect concentric spheres, and the glass throughout of the same thickness and quality, I think the brush would not form, as the tendency to pass would be equal on all sides. That the formation of the stream is due to an irregularity is apparent from the fact that it has the tendency to remain in one position, and rotation occurs most generally only when it is brought out of this position by electrostatic or magnetic influence. When in an extremely sensitive state it rests in one position, most curious experiments may be performed with it. For instance, the experimenter may, by selecting a proper position, approach the hand at a certain considerable distance to the bulb, and he may cause the brush to pass off by merely stiffening the muscles of the arm. When it begins to rotate slowly, and the hands are held at a proper distance, it is impossible to make even the slightest motion without producing a visible effect upon the brush. A metal plate connected to the other terminal of the coil affects it at a great distance, slowing down the rotation often to one turn a second.

As for what causes the brush or stream to form, I believe it's due to the electrostatic action of the globe and the unevenness of its parts. If the small bulb s and the globe L were perfectly concentric spheres, and if the glass were all the same thickness and quality, I think the brush wouldn't form because the tendency to discharge would be equal all around. It's clear that the stream's formation is linked to irregularities since it tends to stay in one position, and rotation usually happens only when it's disturbed by electrostatic or magnetic influence. When in a highly sensitive state, it remains in one place, allowing for some fascinating experiments. For example, by positioning themselves correctly, the experimenter can bring their hand close to the bulb at a significant distance and can cause the brush to discharge just by tensing their arm muscles. When it starts to rotate slowly, even the slightest movement of the hands held at the right distance can noticeably affect the brush. A metal plate connected to the other end of the coil can influence it from a far distance, often slowing the rotation down to just one turn per second.

I am firmly convinced that such a brush, when we learn how to produce it properly, will prove a valuable aid in the investigation of the nature of the forces acting in an electrostatic or magnetic field. If there is any motion which is measurable going on in the space, such a brush ought to reveal it. It is, so to speak, a beam of light, frictionless, devoid of inertia.

I truly believe that once we learn how to create this kind of brush correctly, it will be a helpful tool in exploring the nature of the forces at work in an electrostatic or magnetic field. If there is any measurable motion happening in the space, this brush should make it visible. It's like a beam of light—frictionless and free of inertia.

I think that it may find practical applications in telegraphy. With such a brush it would be possible to send dispatches across the Atlantic, for instance, with any speed, since its sensitiveness may be so great that the slightest changes will affect it. If it were possible to make the stream more intense and very narrow, its deflections could be easily photographed.

I believe it could be used in telegraphy. With this kind of brush, it would be possible to send messages across the Atlantic at any speed, since its sensitivity could be so high that even the slightest changes would impact it. If we could make the stream more intense and very narrow, its deflections could be easily captured in photos.

I have been interested to find whether there is a rotation of the stream itself, or whether there is simply a stress traveling around in the bulb. For this purpose I mounted a light mica fan so that its vanes were in the path of the brush. If the stream itself was rotating the fan would be spun around. I could produce no distinct rotation of the fan, although I tried the experiment repeatedly; but as the fan exerted a noticeable influence on the stream, and the apparent rotation of the latter was, in this case, never quite satisfactory, the experiment did not appear to be conclusive.

I’ve been curious to see if the stream itself is rotating or if it’s just a stress moving around in the bulb. To find out, I set up a light mica fan so its blades were in the path of the brush. If the stream was rotating, the fan would spin. However, I couldn’t get the fan to spin distinctly, even after trying the experiment multiple times. While the fan did noticeably affect the stream, the apparent rotation of the stream was never really clear, so the experiment didn’t seem conclusive.

I have been unable to produce the phenomenon with the disruptive discharge coil, although every other of these phenomena can be well produced by it—many, in fact, much better than with coils operated from an alternator.

I haven't been able to recreate the phenomenon using the disruptive discharge coil, even though it can effectively produce every other type of phenomenon—many of which work even better than with coils connected to an alternator.

It may be possible to produce the brush by impulses of one direction, or even by a steady potential, in which case it would be still more sensitive to magnetic influence.

It might be possible to create the brush using impulses in one direction or even a constant potential, making it even more sensitive to magnetic influence.

In operating an induction coil with rapidly alternating currents, we realize with astonishment, for the first time, the great importance of the relation of capacity, self-induction and frequency as regards the general result. The effects of capacity are the most striking, for in these experiments, since the self-induction and frequency both are high, the critical capacity is very small, and need be but slightly varied to produce a very considerable change. The experimenter may bring his body in contact with the terminals of the secondary of the coil, or attach to one or both terminals insulated bodies of very small bulk, such as bulbs, and he may produce a considerable rise or fall of potential, and greatly affect the flow of the current through the primary. In the experiment before shown, in which a brush appears at a wire attached to one terminal, and the wire is vibrated when the experimenter brings his insulated body in contact with the other terminal of the coil, the sudden rise of potential was made evident.

When operating an induction coil with rapidly changing currents, we notice for the first time the crucial role that capacity, self-induction, and frequency play in the overall outcome. The effects of capacity stand out the most, since both self-induction and frequency are high in these experiments. This makes the critical capacity very small, and only a slight variation can lead to a significant change. The experimenter can touch the terminals of the secondary of the coil or connect very small insulated objects, like bulbs, to one or both terminals, resulting in a noticeable increase or decrease in potential, which greatly influences the current flow through the primary. In the previous experiment, where a brush appears on a wire connected to one terminal, and the wire vibrates when the experimenter touches the other terminal of the coil with his insulated body, the sudden increase in potential becomes clear.

I may show you the behavior of the coil in another manner which possesses a feature of some interest. I have here a little light fan of aluminium sheet, fastened to a needle and arranged to rotate freely in a metal piece screwed to one of the terminals of the coil. When the coil is set to work, the molecules of the air are rhythmically attracted and repelled. As the force with which they are repelled is greater than that with which they are attracted, it results that there is a repulsion exerted on the surfaces of the fan. If the fan were made simply of a metal sheet, the repulsion would be equal on the opposite sides, and would produce no effect. But if one of the opposing surfaces is screened, or if, generally speaking, the bombardment on this side is weakened in some way or other, there remains the repulsion exerted upon the other, and the fan is set in rotation. The screening is best effected by fastening upon one of the opposing sides of the fan insulated conducting coatings, or, if the fan is made in the shape of an ordinary propeller screw, by fastening on one side, and close to it, an insulated metal plate. The static screen may, however, be omitted, and simply a thickness of insulating material fastened to one of the sides of the fan.

I can show you how the coil behaves in a different way that has a bit of interest. I have a small light fan made of aluminum sheet, attached to a needle and set up to spin freely in a metal piece connected to one of the terminals of the coil. When the coil is activated, the air molecules are rhythmically attracted and pushed away. Since the force with which they are pushed away is stronger than the force with which they are attracted, it causes a repulsion on the surfaces of the fan. If the fan were just a metal sheet, the repulsion would be equal on both sides, resulting in no movement. However, if one of the opposing surfaces is blocked, or if the impact on that side is reduced in some way, the repulsion on the other side still exists, causing the fan to spin. The best way to block is by attaching insulated conductive coatings to one of the opposing sides of the fan, or, if the fan is shaped like a regular propeller, by attaching an insulated metal plate closely on one side. However, the static block can be skipped, and you can simply attach a layer of insulating material to one side of the fan.

To show the behavior of the coil, the fan may be placed upon the terminal and it will readily rotate when the coil is operated by currents of very high frequency. With a steady potential, of course, and even with alternating currents of very low frequency, it would not turn, because of the very slow exchange of air and, consequently, smaller bombardment; but in the latter case it might turn if the potential were excessive. With a pin wheel, quite the opposite rule holds good; it rotates best with a steady potential, and the effort is the smaller the higher the frequency. Now, it is very easy to adjust the conditions so that the potential is normally not sufficient to turn the fan, but that by connecting the other terminal of the coil with an insulated body it rises to a much greater value, so as to rotate the fan, and it is likewise possible to stop the rotation by connecting to the terminal a body of different size, thereby diminishing the potential.

To demonstrate how the coil works, you can place a fan on the terminal, and it will spin easily when the coil is powered by very high frequency currents. With a steady voltage, though, and even with low frequency alternating currents, it won’t turn because the air exchange is too slow, leading to less force; however, in that case, it might rotate if the voltage is really high. Conversely, a pinwheel operates under completely different conditions; it spins best with a steady voltage, and the effort required decreases as the frequency increases. It's quite simple to set up the conditions so that the voltage is usually not enough to make the fan turn, but by connecting the other terminal of the coil to an insulated object, the voltage can increase significantly to make the fan rotate, and you can also stop it from spinning by attaching a different sized object to the terminal, which lowers the voltage.

Instead of using the fan in this experiment, we may use the "electric" radiometer with similar effect. But in this case it will be found that the vanes will rotate only at high exhaustion or at ordinary pressures; they will not rotate at moderate pressures, when the air is highly conducting. This curious observation was made conjointly by Professor Crookes and myself. I attribute the result to the high conductivity of the air, the molecules of which then do not act as independent carriers of electric charges, but act all together as a single conducting body. In such case, of course, if there is any repulsion at all of the molecules from the vanes, it must be very small. It is possible, however, that the result is in part due to the fact that the greater part of the discharge passes from the leading-in wire through the highly conducting gas, instead of passing off from the conducting vanes.

Instead of using the fan in this experiment, we can use the "electric" radiometer with similar results. However, in this case, we will find that the vanes only rotate at high vacuum or at normal pressures; they won’t rotate at moderate pressures when the air is highly conductive. This interesting observation was made together by Professor Crookes and me. I think the result is due to the high conductivity of the air, where the molecules do not behave as independent carriers of electric charges, but instead function together as a single conducting body. In this situation, if there is any repulsion at all of the molecules from the vanes, it must be very minor. It's also possible that the result is partly because most of the discharge flows from the leading wire through the highly conductive gas, rather than off the conducting vanes.

In trying the preceding experiment with the electric radiometer the potential should not exceed a certain limit, as then the electrostatic attraction between the vanes and the glass of the bulb may be so great as to stop the rotation.

In conducting the previous experiment with the electric radiometer, the potential should not go beyond a certain limit; otherwise, the electrostatic attraction between the vanes and the glass bulb could become so strong that it stops the rotation.

A most curious feature of alternate currents of high frequencies and potentials is that they enable us to perform many experiments by the use of one wire only. In many respects this feature is of great interest.

A very interesting aspect of high-frequency alternating currents is that they allow us to conduct many experiments using just one wire. In many ways, this characteristic is quite intriguing.

In a type of alternate current motor invented by me some years ago I produced rotation by inducing, by means of a single alternating current passed through a motor circuit, in the mass or other circuits of the motor, secondary currents, which, jointly with the primary or inducing current, created a moving field of force. A simple but crude form of such a motor is obtained by winding upon an iron core a primary, and close to it a secondary coil, joining the ends of the latter and placing a freely movable metal disc within the influence of the field produced by both. The iron core is employed for obvious reasons, but it is not essential to the operation. To improve the motor, the iron core is made to encircle the armature. Again to improve, the secondary coil is made to overlap partly the primary, so that it cannot free itself from a strong inductive action of the latter, repel its lines as it may. Once more to improve, the proper difference of phase is obtained between the primary and secondary currents by a condenser, self-induction, resistance or equivalent windings.

In a type of alternating current motor that I invented a few years ago, I generated rotation by inducing secondary currents in the motor's mass or other circuits using a single alternating current passed through a motor circuit. These secondary currents, along with the primary or inducing current, created a moving magnetic field. A basic but rough version of such a motor can be made by winding a primary coil around an iron core, with a secondary coil placed close to it. The ends of the secondary coil are joined, and a freely movable metal disc is positioned within the area affected by the combined fields. The iron core is used for obvious reasons, although it isn't essential for operation. To improve the motor, the iron core is designed to encircle the armature. Further enhancement is achieved by having the secondary coil partially overlap the primary coil, ensuring it remains under strong inductive influence from the primary coil, regardless of its tendency to repel those lines. To make further improvements, the proper phase difference between the primary and secondary currents is achieved using a capacitor, self-induction, resistance, or similar windings.

I had discovered, however, that rotation is produced by means of a single coil and core; my explanation of the phenomenon, and leading thought in trying the experiment, being that there must be a true time lag in the magnetization of the core. I remember the pleasure I had when, in the writings of Professor Ayrton, which came later to my hand, I found the idea of the time lag advocated. Whether there is a true time lag, or whether the retardation is due to eddy currents circulating in minute paths, must remain an open question, but the fact is that a coil wound upon an iron core and traversed by an alternating current creates a moving field of force, capable of setting an armature in rotation. It is of some interest, in conjunction with the historical Arago experiment, to mention that in lag or phase motors I have produced rotation in the opposite direction to the moving field, which means that in that experiment the magnet may not rotate, or may even rotate in the opposite direction to the moving disc. Here, then, is a motor (diagrammatically illustrated in Fig. 17), comprising a coil and iron core, and a freely movable copper disc in proximity to the latter.

I found out that rotation is created using a single coil and core; my explanation for this and my main thought while conducting the experiment was that there must be a real time lag in how the core gets magnetized. I remember the joy I felt when I later came across the writings of Professor Ayrton, which supported the idea of time lag. Whether there is actually a true time lag or if the delay is caused by eddy currents moving in tiny paths is still a question up for debate, but the reality is that a coil wrapped around an iron core and powered by an alternating current produces a moving magnetic field, which can make an armature spin. Interestingly, alongside the historical Arago experiment, I should mention that in lag or phase motors, I've managed to create rotation in the opposite direction of the moving field. This means that in that experiment, the magnet might not spin or might even rotate in the opposite direction of the moving disc. So here’s a motor (shown in Fig. 17) that consists of a coil and iron core, along with a freely moving copper disc placed close to it.

FIG. 17.—SINGLE WIRE AND "NO-WIRE" MOTOR.

To demonstrate a novel and interesting feature, I have, for a reason which I will explain, selected this type of motor. When the ends of the coil are connected to the terminals of an alternator the disc is set in rotation. But it is not this experiment, now well known, which I desire to perform. What I wish to show you is that this motor rotates with one single connection between it and the generator; that is to say, one terminal of the motor is connected to one terminal of the generator—in this case the secondary of a high-tension induction coil—the other terminals of motor and generator being insulated in space. To produce rotation it is generally (but not absolutely) necessary to connect the free end of the motor coil to an insulated body of some size. The experimenter's body is more than sufficient. If he touches the free terminal with an object held in the hand, a current passes through the coil and the copper disc is set in rotation. If an exhausted tube is put in series with the coil, the tube lights brilliantly, showing the passage of a strong current. Instead of the experimenter's body, a small metal sheet suspended on a cord may be used with the same result. In this case the plate acts as a condenser in series with the coil. It counteracts the self-induction of the latter and allows a strong current to pass. In such a combination, the greater the self-induction of the coil the smaller need be the plate, and this means that a lower frequency, or eventually a lower potential, is required to operate the motor. A single coil wound upon a core has a high self-induction; for this reason principally, this type of motor was chosen to perform the experiment. Were a secondary closed coil wound upon the core, it would tend to diminish the self-induction, and then it would be necessary to employ a much higher frequency and potential. Neither would be advisable, for a higher potential would endanger the insulation of the small primary coil, and a higher frequency would result in a materially diminished torque.

To showcase a new and interesting feature, I've chosen this type of motor for a reason I will explain. When the coil's ends are connected to an alternator's terminals, the disc starts to spin. But I don't want to perform that well-known experiment. What I want to show you is that this motor can rotate with just one connection between it and the generator; meaning, one terminal of the motor is connected to one terminal of the generator—in this case, the secondary of a high-voltage induction coil—while the other terminals of the motor and generator are insulated from each other. Typically, but not always, you need to connect the free end of the motor coil to an insulated object of some size to create rotation. The experimenter's body is more than enough. If you touch the free terminal with an object held in your hand, a current flows through the coil and makes the copper disc spin. If an exhausted tube is put in series with the coil, the tube lights up brightly, indicating a strong current is flowing. Alternatively, you can use a small metal sheet hung on a cord with the same effect. In this scenario, the plate acts as a capacitor in series with the coil. It counteracts the self-induction of the coil and allows a strong current to flow. In such a setup, the greater the self-induction of the coil, the smaller the plate can be, which means a lower frequency or a lower voltage is needed to operate the motor. A single coil wrapped around a core has high self-induction, which is why I chose this type of motor for the experiment. If a secondary closed coil were wound around the core, it would reduce the self-induction, requiring a much higher frequency and voltage to operate. Neither option is ideal since a higher voltage could damage the insulation of the small primary coil, and a higher frequency would significantly reduce torque.

It should be remarked that when such a motor with a closed secondary is used, it is not at all easy to obtain rotation with excessive frequencies, as the secondary cuts off almost completely the lines of the primary—and this, of course, the more, the higher the frequency—and allows the passage of but a minute current. In such a case, unless the secondary is closed through a condenser, it is almost essential, in order to produce rotation, to make the primary and secondary coils overlap each other more or less.

It’s important to note that when a motor with a closed secondary is used, it’s not easy to achieve rotation at high frequencies because the secondary almost completely cuts off the lines of the primary—and this effect worsens as the frequency increases—allowing only a very small current to pass through. In this situation, unless the secondary is connected through a condenser, it's almost necessary to have the primary and secondary coils overlap to generate rotation.

But there is an additional feature of interest about this motor, namely, it is not necessary to have even a single connection between the motor and generator, except, perhaps, through the ground: for not only is an insulated plate capable of giving off energy into space, but it is likewise capable of deriving it from an alternating electrostatic field, though in the latter case the available energy is much smaller. In this instance one of the motor terminals is connected to the insulated plate or body located within the alternating electrostatic field, and the other terminal preferably to the ground.

But there’s another interesting aspect of this motor: you don’t need to have even one connection between the motor and generator, except maybe through the ground. An insulated plate can not only release energy into space, but it can also absorb energy from an alternating electrostatic field, although in that case, the amount of usable energy is much less. Here, one of the motor terminals connects to the insulated plate or object within the alternating electrostatic field, and the other terminal is preferably connected to the ground.

It is quite possible, however, that such "no-wire" motors, as they might be called, could be operated by conduction through the rarefied air at considerable distances. Alternate currents, especially of high frequencies, pass with astonishing freedom through even slightly rarefied gases. The upper strata of the air are rarefied. To reach a number of miles out into space requires the overcoming of difficulties of a merely mechanical nature. There is no doubt that with the enormous potentials obtainable by the use of high frequencies and oil insulation luminous discharges might be passed through many miles of rarefied air, and that, by thus directing the energy of many hundreds or thousands of horse-power, motors or lamps might be operated at considerable distances from stationary sources. But such schemes are mentioned merely as possibilities. We shall have no need to transmit power in this way. We shall have no need to transmit power at all. Ere many generations pass, our machinery will be driven by a power obtainable at any point of the universe. This idea is not novel. Men have been led to it long ago by instinct or reason. It has been expressed in many ways, and in many places, in the history of old and new. We find it in the delightful myth of Antheus, who derives power from the earth; we find it among the subtile speculations of one of your splendid mathematicians, and in many hints and statements of thinkers of the present time. Throughout space there is energy. Is this energy static or kinetic? If static our hopes are in vain; if kinetic—and this we know it is, for certain—then it is a mere question of time when men will succeed in attaching their machinery to the very wheelwork of nature. Of all, living or dead, Crookes came nearest to doing it. His radiometer will turn in the light of day and in the darkness of the night; it will turn everywhere where there is heat, and heat is everywhere. But, unfortunately, this beautiful little machine, while it goes down to posterity as the most interesting, must likewise be put on record as the most inefficient machine ever invented!

It’s quite possible that these "no-wire" motors, as they might be called, could work by conducting through the thin air over long distances. Alternate currents, especially at high frequencies, can pass through even slightly rarefied gases with remarkable ease. The upper layers of the atmosphere are thin. Reaching several miles into space involves overcoming purely mechanical challenges. There's no doubt that with the huge potentials achievable using high frequencies and oil insulation, bright discharges could move through many miles of rarefied air, allowing motors or lamps to operate far from stationary power sources by harnessing hundreds or thousands of horsepower. However, such plans are mentioned merely as possibilities. We won’t need to transmit power in this way. In the coming generations, our machinery will be powered by energy available everywhere in the universe. This idea isn’t new. People have been drawn to it for ages, both instinctively and logically. It has been expressed in various ways throughout history. We see it in the charming myth of Antheus, who draws strength from the earth; we find it among the intricate musings of some of your brilliant mathematicians, and in many hints and statements from contemporary thinkers. Energy exists throughout space. Is this energy stationary or in motion? If it’s stationary, our hopes are futile; if it’s in motion—and we know it definitely is—then it’s just a matter of time before humans figure out how to connect their machines to the very mechanisms of nature. Of everyone, living or dead, Crookes came the closest to achieving this. His radiometer spins in both daylight and darkness; it moves anywhere there’s heat, and heat is everywhere. Unfortunately, while this beautiful little invention will go down in history as one of the most fascinating, it must also be recorded as the least efficient machine ever created!

The preceding experiment is only one of many equally interesting experiments which may be performed by the use of only one wire with alternate currents of high potential and frequency. We may connect an insulated line to a source of such currents, we may pass an inappreciable current over the line, and on any point of the same we are able to obtain a heavy current, capable of fusing a thick copper wire. Or we may, by the help of some artifice, decompose a solution in any electrolytic cell by connecting only one pole of the cell to the line or source of energy. Or we may, by attaching to the line, or only bringing into its vicinity, light up an incandescent lamp, an exhausted tube, or a phosphorescent bulb.

The previous experiment is just one of many equally fascinating experiments that can be done using a single wire with alternating currents of high voltage and frequency. We can connect an insulated line to a source of these currents, send a negligible amount of current through the line, and at any point along it, we can get a strong current that can melt a thick copper wire. Alternatively, we can use some technique to break down a solution in any electrolytic cell by connecting just one electrode of the cell to the line or energy source. We can also illuminate an incandescent lamp, an evacuated tube, or a phosphorescent bulb by connecting to the line or bringing them near it.

However impracticable this plan of working may appear in many cases, it certainly seems practicable, and even recommendable, in the production of light. A perfected lamp would require but little energy, and if wires were used at all we ought to be able to supply that energy without a return wire.

However impractical this working plan may seem in many situations, it definitely appears feasible, and even advisable, for producing light. An improved lamp would need minimal energy, and if wires were used, we should be able to provide that energy without needing a return wire.

It is now a fact that a body may be rendered incandescent or phosphorescent by bringing it either in single contact or merely in the vicinity of a source of electric impulses of the proper character, and that in this manner a quantity of light sufficient to afford a practical illuminant may be produced. It is, therefore, to say the least, worth while to attempt to determine the best conditions and to invent the best appliances for attaining this object.

It is now a fact that a body can be made to glow or emit light by either having direct contact or being near a source of electric impulses of the right type, and that this way, enough light can be generated to serve as a practical source of illumination. Therefore, it's certainly worthwhile to try to figure out the best conditions and to create the best tools for achieving this goal.

Some experiences have already been gained in this direction, and I will dwell on them briefly, in the hope that they might prove useful.

Some experiences have already been gained in this area, and I will touch on them briefly, hoping they might be helpful.

The heating of a conducting body inclosed in a bulb, and connected to a source of rapidly alternating electric impulses, is dependent on so many things of a different nature, that it would be difficult to give a generally applicable rule under which the maximum heating occurs. As regards the size of the vessel, I have lately found that at ordinary or only slightly differing atmospheric pressures, when air is a good insulator, and hence practically the same amount of energy by a certain potential and frequency is given off from the body, whether the bulb be small or large, the body is brought to a higher temperature if inclosed in a small bulb, because of the better confinement of heat in this case.

The heating of a conductive object contained in a bulb and connected to a source of rapidly alternating electric impulses depends on so many different factors that it would be hard to establish a universal rule for when maximum heating happens. Regarding the size of the vessel, I've recently discovered that at average or slightly varying atmospheric pressures, when air acts as a good insulator, and therefore the same amount of energy is released from the object regardless of whether the bulb is small or large, the object reaches a higher temperature when enclosed in a small bulb due to better heat retention in that case.

At lower pressures, when air becomes more or less conducting, or if the air be sufficiently warmed as to become conducting, the body is rendered more intensely incandescent in a large bulb, obviously because, under otherwise equal conditions of test, more energy may be given off from the body when the bulb is large.

At lower pressures, when air becomes somewhat conductive, or if the air is heated enough to become conductive, the body glows more brightly in a larger bulb. This is clearly because, under otherwise equal testing conditions, a larger bulb allows the body to release more energy.

At very high degrees of exhaustion, when the matter in the bulb becomes "radiant," a large bulb has still an advantage, but a comparatively slight one, over the small bulb.

At very high levels of exhaustion, when the material in the bulb becomes "radiant," a large bulb still has an advantage, but it's only a slight one compared to the small bulb.

Finally, at excessively high degrees of exhaustion, which cannot be reached except by the employment of special means, there seems to be, beyond a certain and rather small size of vessel, no perceptible difference in the heating.

Finally, at extremely high levels of exhaustion, which can only be achieved through special methods, there appears to be, beyond a certain small size of vessel, no noticeable difference in the heating.

These observations were the result of a number of experiments, of which one, showing the effect of the size of the bulb at a high degree of exhaustion, may be described and shown here, as it presents a feature of interest. Three spherical bulbs of 2 inches, 3 inches and 4 inches diameter were taken, and in the centre of each was mounted an equal length of an ordinary incandescent lamp filament of uniform thickness. In each bulb the piece of filament was fastened to the leading-in wire of platinum, contained in a glass stem sealed in the bulb; care being taken, of course, to make everything as nearly alike as possible. On each glass stem in the inside of the bulb was slipped a highly polished tube made of aluminium sheet, which fitted the stem and was held on it by spring pressure. The function of this aluminium tube will be explained subsequently. In each bulb an equal length of filament protruded above the metal tube. It is sufficient to say now that under these conditions equal lengths of filament of the same thickness—in other words, bodies of equal bulk—were brought to incandescence. The three bulbs were sealed to a glass tube, which was connected to a Sprengel pump. When a high vacuum had been reached, the glass tube carrying the bulbs was sealed off. A current was then turned on successively on each bulb, and it was found that the filaments came to about the same brightness, and, if anything, the smallest bulb, which was placed midway between the two larger ones, may have been slightly brighter. This result was expected, for when either of the bulbs was connected to the coil the luminosity spread through the other two, hence the three bulbs constituted really one vessel. When all the three bulbs were connected in multiple arc to the coil, in the largest of them the filament glowed brightest, in the next smaller it was a little less bright, and in the smallest it only came to redness. The bulbs were then sealed off and separately tried. The brightness of the filaments was now such as would have been expected on the supposition that the energy given off was proportionate to the surface of the bulb, this surface in each case representing one of the coatings of a condenser. Accordingly, time was less difference between the largest and the middle sized than between the latter and the smallest bulb.

These observations came from several experiments, one of which demonstrated how the size of the bulb affects performance under high exhaustion and is worth discussing here due to its interesting features. Three spherical bulbs measuring 2 inches, 3 inches, and 4 inches in diameter were used, each fitted with an equally long piece of standard incandescent lamp filament of uniform thickness at the center. In each bulb, the filament was attached to a platinum leading wire housed in a glass stem sealed within the bulb; care was taken to ensure that everything was as similar as possible. Each glass stem inside the bulb had a highly polished aluminum tube that fit snugly and was held in place by spring pressure. The purpose of this aluminum tube will be explained later. An equal length of filament extended above the metal tube in each bulb. It suffices to say that, under these conditions, equal lengths of filament with the same thickness—essentially bodies of equal volume—were made incandescent. The three bulbs were attached to a glass tube connected to a Sprengel pump. Once a high vacuum was achieved, the glass tube carrying the bulbs was sealed. A current was then applied to each bulb in turn, and it was observed that the filaments reached roughly the same brightness; if anything, the smallest bulb positioned between the two larger ones may have been a bit brighter. This result was anticipated because when any one of the bulbs was connected to the coil, the luminosity spread to the other two, making them effectively act as one unit. When the three bulbs were connected in parallel to the coil, the filament in the largest bulb glowed the brightest, the next smaller one was slightly dimmer, and the smallest one only achieved a reddish glow. The bulbs were then sealed off and tested individually. The brightness of the filaments matched what would have been expected if the emitted energy was proportional to the surface area of the bulb, with each surface acting as one of the coatings of a condenser. Consequently, there was less difference in brightness between the largest and the medium-sized bulb than between the medium-sized and the smallest bulb.

An interesting observation was made in this experiment. The three bulbs were suspended from a straight bare wire connected to a terminal of the coil, the largest bulb being placed at the end of the wire, at some distance from it the smallest bulb, and an equal distance from the latter the middle-sized one. The carbons glowed then in both the larger bulbs about as expected, but the smallest did not get its share by far. This observation led me to exchange the position of the bulbs, and I then observed that whichever of the bulbs was in the middle it was by far less bright than it was in any other position. This mystifying result was, of course, found to be due to the electrostatic action between the bulbs. When they were placed at a considerable distance, or when they were attached to the corners of an equilateral triangle of copper wire, they glowed about in the order determined by their surfaces.

An interesting observation was made in this experiment. The three bulbs were hung from a straight bare wire connected to a terminal of the coil, with the largest bulb at the end of the wire, the smallest bulb some distance away from it, and the middle-sized one an equal distance from the smallest. The larger bulbs glowed as expected, but the smallest one barely lit up at all. This observation prompted me to switch the positions of the bulbs, and I found that whichever bulb was in the middle was significantly dimmer than it was in any other position. This puzzling result was, of course, attributed to the electrostatic interaction between the bulbs. When they were placed at a considerable distance apart, or when they were attached to the corners of an equilateral triangle made of copper wire, they glowed in the order determined by their surfaces.

As to the shape of the vessel, it is also of some importance, especially at high degrees of exhaustion. Of all the possible constructions, it seems that a spherical globe with the refractory body mounted in its centre is the best to employ. In experience it has been demonstrated that in such a globe a refractory body of a given bulk is more easily brought to incandescence than when otherwise shaped bulbs are used. There is also an advantage in giving to the incandescent body the shape of a sphere, for self-evident reasons. In any case the body should be mounted in the centre, where the atoms rebounding from the glass collide. This object is best attained in the spherical bulb; but it is also attained in a cylindrical vessel with one or two straight filaments coinciding with its axis, and possibly also in parabolical or spherical bulbs with the refractory body or bodies placed in the focus or foci of the same; though the latter is not probable, as the electrified atoms should in all cases rebound normally from the surface they strike, unless the speed were excessive, in which case they would probably follow the general law of reflection. No matter what shape the vessel may have, if the exhaustion be low, a filament mounted in the globe is brought to the same degree of incandescence in all parts; but if the exhaustion be high and the bulb be spherical or pear-shaped, as usual, focal points form and the filament is heated to a higher degree at or near such points.

Regarding the shape of the vessel, it is also important, especially when the vacuum is strong. Of all the possible designs, a spherical globe with the refractory material placed at its center appears to be the most effective. Experience has shown that in such a globe, a refractory material of a specific size is easier to heat to incandescence compared to other shaped bulbs. There's also an advantage to having the incandescent material shaped like a sphere, for obvious reasons. In any scenario, the material should be positioned in the center, where the atoms bouncing off the glass collide. This goal is best achieved in a spherical bulb; however, it can also be done in a cylindrical vessel with one or two straight filaments aligned with its axis, and possibly in parabolic or spherical bulbs with the refractory material or materials placed at their focus or foci; though the latter is unlikely, since the electrified atoms should always rebound normally from the surface they hit, unless they are moving extremely fast, in which case they likely would follow the general law of reflection. Regardless of the shape of the vessel, if the vacuum is low, a filament mounted in the globe reaches the same level of incandescence throughout; however, if the vacuum is high and the bulb is spherical or pear-shaped, focal points develop, causing the filament to heat up more at or near those points.

To illustrate the effect, I have here two small bulbs which are alike, only one is exhausted to a low and the other to a very high degree. When connected to the coil, the filament in the former glows uniformly throughout all its length; whereas in the latter, that portion of the filament which is in the centre of the bulb glows far more intensely than the rest. A curious point is that the phenomenon occurs even if two filaments are mounted in a bulb, each being connected to one terminal of the coil, and, what is still more curious, if they be very near together, provided the vacuum be very high. I noted in experiments with such bulbs that the filaments would give way usually at a certain point, and in the first trials I attributed it to a defect in the carbon. But when the phenomenon occurred many times in succession I recognized its real cause.

To demonstrate the effect, I have two small bulbs that are identical, but one is worn out to a low degree while the other is worn out to a very high degree. When connected to the coil, the filament in the former glows evenly along its entire length; whereas in the latter, the section of the filament in the center of the bulb glows much more intensely than the rest. An interesting point is that this phenomenon happens even if two filaments are placed in a bulb, each connected to one terminal of the coil, and what's even more intriguing is that this occurs if they are very close together, as long as the vacuum is very high. In my experiments with such bulbs, I observed that the filaments usually failed at a specific point, and in the initial trials, I thought it was due to a flaw in the carbon. However, when the phenomenon happened repeatedly, I realized its true cause.

In order to bring a refractory body inclosed in a bulb to incandescence, it is desirable, on account of economy, that all the energy supplied to the bulb from the source should reach without loss the body to be heated; from there, and from nowhere else, it should be radiated. It is, of course, out of the question to reach this theoretical result, but it is possible by a proper construction of the illuminating device to approximate it more or less.

To heat a refractory material inside a bulb to incandescence efficiently, it's important that all the energy supplied to the bulb comes from the source without any loss and directly heats the material inside; it should radiate from there and not from anywhere else. While achieving this ideal scenario is impossible, a well-designed lighting device can get us closer to that goal.

For many reasons, the refractory body is placed in the centre of the bulb, and it is usually supported on a glass stem containing the leading-in wire. As the potential of this wire is alternated, the rarefied gas surrounding the stem is acted upon inductively, and the glass stem is violently bombarded and heated. In this manner by far the greater portion of the energy supplied to the bulb—especially when exceedingly high frequencies are used—may be lost for the purpose contemplated. To obviate this loss, or at least to reduce it to a minimum, I usually screen the rarefied gas surrounding the stem from the inductive action of the leading-in wire by providing the stem with a tube or coating of conducting material. It seems beyond doubt that the best among metals to employ for this purpose is aluminium, on account of its many remarkable properties. Its only fault is that it is easily fusible, and, therefore, its distance from the incandescing body should be properly estimated. Usually, a thin tube, of a diameter somewhat smaller than that of the glass stem, is made of the finest aluminium sheet, and slipped on the stem. The tube is conveniently prepared by wrapping around a rod fastened in a lathe a piece of aluminium sheet of the proper size, grasping the sheet firmly with clean chamois leather or blotting paper, and spinning the rod very fast. The sheet is wound tightly around the rod, and a highly polished tube of one or three layers of the sheet is obtained. When slipped on the stem, the pressure is generally sufficient to prevent it from slipping off, but, for safety, the lower edge of the sheet may be turned inside. The upper inside corner of the sheet—that is, the one which is nearest to the refractory incandescent body—should be cut out diagonally, as it often happens that, in consequence of the intense heat, this corner turns toward the inside and comes very near to, or in contact with, the wire, or filament, supporting the refractory body. The greater part of the energy supplied to the bulb is then used up in heating the metal tube, and the bulb is rendered useless for the purpose. The aluminium sheet should project above the glass stem more or less—one inch or so—or else, if the glass be too close to the incandescing body, it may be strongly heated and become more or less conducting, whereupon it may be ruptured, or may, by its conductivity, establish a good electrical connection between the metal tube and the leading-in wire, in which case, again, most of the energy will be lost in heating the former. Perhaps the best way is to make the top of the glass tube, for about an inch, of a much smaller diameter. To still further reduce the danger arising from the heating of the glass stem, and also with the view of preventing an electrical connection between the metal tube and the electrode, I preferably wrap the stem with several layers of thin mica, which extends at least as far as the metal tube. In some bulbs I have also used an outside insulating cover.

For various reasons, the refractory body is positioned in the center of the bulb and is usually supported by a glass stem containing the leading-in wire. As the potential of this wire alternates, the rarified gas around the stem is influenced inductively, causing the glass stem to be violently bombarded and heated. In this way, a significant portion of the energy supplied to the bulb, especially at very high frequencies, can be wasted. To reduce this loss, I typically shield the rarified gas surrounding the stem from the inductive effects of the leading-in wire by covering the stem with a tube or coating made of conducting material. It's clear that aluminum is the best metal for this purpose due to its many impressive properties. Its only drawback is that it melts easily, so its distance from the incandescent body needs to be carefully considered. Typically, a thin tube, slightly smaller in diameter than the glass stem, is made from the finest aluminum sheet and slipped onto the stem. The tube can be conveniently prepared by wrapping a piece of aluminum sheet around a rod secured in a lathe, firmly holding the sheet with clean chamois leather or blotting paper, and then spinning the rod very fast. The sheet winds tightly around the rod, creating a highly polished tube made from one or three layers of the sheet. When placed on the stem, the pressure generally keeps it securely in place, but for added safety, the lower edge of the sheet can be turned inside. The upper inside corner of the sheet, the one closest to the refractory incandescent body, should be cut diagonally, as intense heat can cause this corner to turn inward and nearly contact the wire, or filament, supporting the refractory body. Most of the energy supplied to the bulb can then be consumed in heating the metal tube, rendering the bulb ineffective for its intended purpose. The aluminum sheet should extend above the glass stem by about an inch or so; if the glass is too close to the incandescent body, it may get heated strongly and become somewhat conductive, which could lead to it rupturing. Alternatively, its conductivity might create a strong electrical connection between the metal tube and the leading-in wire, resulting in most of the energy being wasted in heating the tube again. A better approach might be to form the top of the glass tube to have a much smaller diameter for about an inch. To further mitigate the risk of the glass stem heating up and to prevent an electrical connection between the metal tube and the electrode, I usually wrap the stem with several layers of thin mica that extend at least to the metal tube. In some bulbs, I've also used an outer insulating cover.

The preceding remarks are only made to aid the experimenter in the first trials, for the difficulties which he encounters he may soon find means to overcome in his own way.

The earlier comments are just meant to help the experimenter with their initial attempts, as they will likely discover their own methods to tackle the challenges they face.

To illustrate the effect of the screen, and the advantage of using it, I have here two bulbs of the same size, with their stems, leading-in wires and incandescent lamp filaments tied to the latter, as nearly alike as possible. The stem of one bulb is provided with an aluminium tube, the stem of the other has none. Originally the two bulbs were joined by a tube which was connected to a Sprengel pump. When a high vacuum had been reached, first the connecting tube, and then the bulbs, were sealed off; they are therefore of the same degree of exhaustion. When they are separately connected to the coil giving a certain potential, the carbon filament in the bulb provided with the aluminium screen is rendered highly incandescent, while the filament in the other bulb may, with the same potential, not even come to redness, although in reality the latter bulb takes generally more energy than the former. When they are both connected together to the terminal, the difference is even more apparent, showing the importance of the screening. The metal tube placed on the stem containing the leading-in wire performs really two distinct functions: First: it acts more or less as an electrostatic screen, thus economizing the energy supplied to the bulb; and, second, to whatever extent it may fail to act electrostatically, it acts mechanically, preventing the bombardment, and consequently intense heating and possible deterioration of the slender support of the refractory incandescent body, or of the glass stem containing the leading-in wire. I say slender support, for it is evident that in order to confine the heat more completely to the incandescing body its support should be very thin, so as to carry away the smallest possible amount of heat by conduction. Of all the supports used I have found an ordinary incandescent lamp filament to be the best, principally because among conductors it can withstand the highest degrees of heat.

To show the effect of the screen and its benefits, I have two bulbs of the same size, including their stems, wires, and incandescent lamp filaments, as closely matched as possible. One bulb's stem has an aluminum tube, while the other's does not. Initially, the two bulbs were connected by a tube to a Sprengel pump. Once a high vacuum was achieved, the connecting tube and then the bulbs were sealed off, making them equally exhausted. When each bulb is connected separately to a coil providing a specific potential, the carbon filament in the bulb with the aluminum screen glows brightly, while the filament in the other bulb may not even turn red, even though the latter bulb typically consumes more energy. When both are connected to the same terminal, the difference is even clearer, highlighting the importance of the screen. The metal tube on the stem with the wire serves two main purposes: first, it acts like an electrostatic shield, conserving the energy supplied to the bulb; and second, to the extent that it doesn’t work electrostatically, it provides mechanical protection, preventing bombardment and excessive heating, which could damage the delicate support of the incandescent body or the glass stem with the wire. I refer to it as a delicate support because to contain heat better around the glowing body, it should be very thin, minimizing heat loss through conduction. Of all the supports tested, I've found an ordinary incandescent lamp filament to be the best, mainly because it can withstand the highest temperatures among conductors.

The effectiveness of the metal tube as an electrostatic screen depends largely on the degree of exhaustion.

The effectiveness of the metal tube as an electrostatic shield mainly depends on how much it has been evacuated.

At excessively high degrees of exhaustion—which are reached by using great care and special means in connection with the Sprengel pump—when the matter in the globe is in the ultra-radiant state, it acts most perfectly. The shadow of the upper edge of the tube is then sharply defined upon the bulb.

At extremely high levels of exhaustion—achieved by using great care and specific techniques with the Sprengel pump—when the substance in the globe is in an ultra-radiant state, it performs optimally. The shadow of the upper edge of the tube is then clearly defined on the bulb.

At a somewhat lower degree of exhaustion, which is about the ordinary "non-striking" vacuum, and generally as long as the matter moves predominantly in straight lines, the screen still does well. In elucidation of the preceding remark it is necessary to state that what is a "non-striking" vacuum for a coil operated, as ordinarily, by impulses, or currents, of low-frequency, is not, by far, so when the coil is operated by currents of very high frequency. In such case the discharge may pass with great freedom through the rarefied gas through which a low-frequency discharge may not pass, even though the potential be much higher. At ordinary atmospheric pressures just the reverse rule holds good: the higher the frequency, the less the spark discharge is able to jump between the terminals, especially if they are knobs or spheres of some size.

At a somewhat lower level of exhaustion, which is about the normal "non-striking" vacuum, and generally as long as the material moves mostly in straight lines, the screen still functions well. To clarify the previous statement, it's important to explain that what constitutes a "non-striking" vacuum for a coil typically operated by low-frequency impulses or currents is not the same when the coil is driven by very high-frequency currents. In that case, the discharge can pass easily through the rarefied gas that a low-frequency discharge might not be able to, even if the potential is much higher. At normal atmospheric pressures, the opposite rule applies: the higher the frequency, the less the spark discharge can jump between the terminals, especially if they are knobs or spheres of significant size.

Finally, at very low degrees of exhaustion, when the gas is well conducting, the metal tube not only does not act as an electrostatic screen, but even is a drawback, aiding to a considerable extent the dissipation of the energy laterally from the leading-in wire. This, of course, is to be expected. In this case, namely, the metal tube is in good electrical connection with the leading-in wire, and most of the bombardment is directed upon the tube. As long as the electrical connection is not good, the conducting tube is always of some advantage, for although it may not greatly economize energy, still it protects the support of the refractory button, and is a means for concentrating more energy upon the same.

Finally, at very low levels of exhaustion, when the gas conducts well, the metal tube not only fails to act as an electrostatic shield, but actually becomes a disadvantage, significantly aiding the lateral dissipation of energy from the leading wire. This is, of course, to be expected. In this case, the metal tube is in good electrical contact with the leading wire, and most of the bombardment is directed at the tube. As long as the electrical connection isn’t strong, the conducting tube is still somewhat beneficial, because although it may not save much energy, it does protect the support of the refractory button and helps concentrate more energy on it.

To whatever extent the aluminium tube performs the function of a screen, its usefulness is therefore limited to very high degrees of exhaustion when it is insulated from the electrode—that is, when the gas as a whole is non-conducting, and the molecules, or atoms, act as independent carriers of electric charges.

To whatever extent the aluminum tube acts as a screen, its usefulness is limited to very high levels of exhaustion when it is insulated from the electrode—that is, when the gas as a whole does not conduct electricity, and the molecules or atoms function as independent carriers of electric charges.

In addition to acting as a more or less effective screen, in the true meaning of the word, the conducting tube or coating may also act, by reason of its conductivity, as a sort of equalizer or dampener of the bombardment against the stem. To be explicit, I assume the action as follows: Suppose a rhythmical bombardment to occur against the conducting tube by reason of its imperfect action as a screen, it certainly must happen that some molecules, or atoms, strike the tube sooner than others. Those which come first in contact with it give up their superfluous charge, and the tube is electrified, the electrification instantly spreading over its surface. But this must diminish the energy lost in the bombardment for two reasons: first, the charge given up by the atoms spreads over a great area, and hence the electric density at any point is small, and the atoms are repelled with less energy than they would be if they would strike against a good insulator: secondly, as the tube is electrified by the atoms which first come in contact with it, the progress of the following atoms against the tube is more or less checked by the repulsion which the electrified tube must exert upon the similarly electrified atoms. This repulsion may perhaps be sufficient to prevent a large portion of the atoms from striking the tube, but at any rate it must diminish the energy of their impact. It is clear that when the exhaustion is very low, and the rarefied gas well conducting, neither of the above effects can occur, and, on the other hand, the fewer the atoms, with the greater freedom they move; in other words, the higher the degree of exhaustion, up to a limit, the more telling will be both the effects.

In addition to acting as a somewhat effective barrier, the conducting tube or coating can also serve, due to its conductivity, as a sort of equalizer or dampener against the bombardment on the stem. To be clear, I imagine the action as follows: Suppose there’s a rhythmic bombardment on the conducting tube because it doesn’t fully act as a barrier, some molecules or atoms will definitely hit the tube sooner than others. The ones that contact it first release their extra charge, causing the tube to become electrified, with this electrification quickly spreading across its surface. However, this must reduce the energy lost during the bombardment for two reasons: first, the charge released by the atoms spreads out over a large area, which means the electric density at any single point is low, and the atoms are pushed away with less energy than they would if they were hitting a good insulator. Second, as the tube gets electrified by the first atoms that touch it, the movement of subsequent atoms hitting the tube is somewhat hindered by the repulsion that the electrified tube exerts on similarly charged atoms. This repulsion might be strong enough to prevent many atoms from hitting the tube, but in any case, it must reduce the energy of their impact. It's clear that when the vacuum is very low and the rarefied gas is well-conducting, neither of these effects can happen; on the other hand, the fewer the atoms are, the more freely they can move. In other words, as the vacuum degree increases, up to a point, both effects will become more significant.

What I have just said may afford an explanation of the phenomenon observed by Prof. Crookes, namely, that a discharge through a bulb is established with much greater facility when an insulator than when a conductor is present in the same. In my opinion, the conductor acts as a dampener of the motion of the atoms in the two ways pointed out; hence, to cause a visible discharge to pass through the bulb, a much higher potential is needed if a conductor, especially of much surface, be present.

What I just mentioned might explain the phenomenon noted by Prof. Crookes, which is that a discharge through a bulb happens much more easily when there’s an insulator compared to when there’s a conductor present. I believe that the conductor acts to dampen the movement of the atoms in the two ways I mentioned; therefore, to create a visible discharge through the bulb, a much higher potential is required if a conductor, especially one with a larger surface area, is present.

For the sake of clearness of some of the remarks before made, I must now refer to Figs. 18, 19 and 20, which illustrate various arrangements with a type of bulb most generally used.

For the sake of clarity regarding some of the comments made earlier, I must now refer to Figs. 18, 19, and 20, which show different setups with the type of bulb most commonly used.

FIG. 18.—BULB WITH MICA TUBE AND ALUMINIUM SCREEN.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Fig. 18 is a section through a spherical bulb L, with the glass stem s, containing the leading-in wire w; which has a lamp filament l fastened to it, serving to support the refractory button m in the centre. M is a sheet of thin mica wound in several layers around the stem s, and a is the aluminium tube.


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Fig. 18 shows a section of a spherical bulb L, with the glass stem s that holds the leading-in wire w; this wire has a lamp filament l attached to it, which supports the heat-resistant button m in the center. M is a sheet of thin mica wrapped in several layers around the stem s, and a is the aluminum tube.


 

FIG. 19.—IMPROVED BULB WITH SOCKET AND SCREEN.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Fig. 19 illustrates such a bulb in a somewhat more advanced stage of perfection. A metallic tube S is fastened by means of some cement to the neck of the tube. In the tube is screwed a plug P, of insulating material, in the centre of which is fastened a metallic terminal t, for the connection to the leading-in wire w. This terminal must be well insulated from the metal tube S, therefore, if the cement used is conducting—and most generally it is sufficiently so—the space between the plug P and the neck of the bulb should be filled with some good insulating material, as mica powder.


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Fig. 19 shows a bulb in a more advanced stage of development. A metal tube S is attached to the neck of the tube using some adhesive. Inside the tube, there's a plug P made of insulating material, with a metal terminal t attached in the center for connecting to the lead wire w. This terminal needs to be well insulated from the metal tube S; therefore, if the adhesive used is conductive—and it usually is to some extent—the gap between the plug P and the neck of the bulb should be filled with a good insulating material, like mica powder.


 

FIG. 20.—BULB FOR EXPERIMENTS WITH CONDUCTING TUBE.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Fig. 20 shows a bulb made for experimental purposes. In this bulb the aluminium tube is provided with an external connection, which serves to investigate the effect of the tube under various conditions. It is referred to chiefly to suggest a line of experiment followed.


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Fig. 20 shows a bulb designed for experimental purposes. This bulb has an aluminum tube with an external connection, allowing for the investigation of the tube's effects under different conditions. It's primarily mentioned to indicate a line of experiments conducted.


 

FIG. 21.—IMPROVED BULB WITH NON-CONDUCTING BUTTON.

 
 
 
 
Since the bombardment against the stem containing the leading-in wire is due to the inductive action of the latter upon the rarefied gas, it is of advantage to reduce this action as far as practicable by employing a very thin wire, surrounded by a very thick insulation of glass or other material, and by making the wire passing through the rarefied gas as short as practicable. To combine these features I employ a large tube T (Fig. 21), which protrudes into the bulb to some distance, and carries on the top a very short glass stem s, into which is sealed the leading-in wire w, and I protect the top of the glass stem against the heat by a small, aluminium tube a and a layer of mica underneath the same, as usual. The wire w, passing through the large tube to the outside of the bulb, should be well insulated—with a glass tube, for instance—and the space between ought to be filled out with some excellent insulator. Among many insulating powders I have tried, I have found that mica powder is the best to employ. If this precaution is not taken, the tube T, protruding into the bulb, will surely be cracked in consequence of the heating by the brushes which are apt to form in the upper part of the tube, near the exhausted globe, especially if the vacuum be excellent, and therefore the potential necessary to operate the lamp very high.





Since the bombardment of the stem containing the leading wire is caused by its inductive effect on the rarefied gas, it’s beneficial to minimize this effect as much as possible by using a very thin wire, surrounded by thick insulation made of glass or another material, and by keeping the wire that goes through the rarefied gas as short as possible. To achieve these features, I use a large tube T (Fig. 21), which extends into the bulb for some distance and has a very short glass stem s at the top, into which the leading wire w is sealed. I also protect the top of the glass stem from heat with a small aluminum tube a and a layer of mica underneath it, as usual. The wire w, which goes through the large tube to the outside of the bulb, should be well insulated—using a glass tube, for example—and the space in between should be filled with a good insulator. Among the many insulating powders I have tested, I found that mica powder works best. If this precaution isn’t taken, the tube T, extending into the bulb, will likely crack due to the heat generated by the electrical arcs that can form in the upper part of the tube, near the exhausted globe, especially if the vacuum is very good, which leads to a high voltage needed to operate the lamp.


 

FIG. 22.—TYPE OF BULB WITHOUT LEADING-IN WIRE.

 
 
 
 
 
 
Fig. 22 illustrates a similar arrangement, with a large tube T protruding in to the part of the bulb containing the refractors button m. In this case the wire leading from the outside into the bulb is omitted, the energy required being supplied through condenser coatings C C. The insulating packing P should in this construction be tightly fitting to the glass, and rather wide, or otherwise the discharge might avoid passing through the wire w, which connects the inside condenser coating to the incandescent button m. The molecular bombardment against the glass stem in the bulb is a source of great trouble. As illustration I will cite a phenomenon only too frequently and unwillingly observed. A bulb, preferably a large one, may be taken, and a good conducting body, such as a piece of carbon, may be mounted in it upon a platinum wire sealed in the glass stem. The bulb may be exhausted to a fairly high degree, nearly to the point when phosphorescence begins to appear.


 
 
 
 
 
Fig. 22 shows a similar setup, with a large tube T sticking into the part of the bulb that holds the refractors button m. In this case, the wire that connects from the outside into the bulb is excluded, with the energy needed being provided by the condenser coatings C C. The insulating packing P should fit tightly against the glass and be fairly wide, or else the discharge might skip over the wire w, which links the inside condenser coating to the incandescent button m. The molecular bombardment on the glass stem in the bulb is a major issue. As an example, I will mention a phenomenon that is all too frequently experienced. A bulb, ideally a large one, can be used, and a good conductor, like a piece of carbon, can be mounted inside it on a platinum wire sealed in the glass stem. The bulb can be evacuated to a high degree, almost reaching the point where phosphorescence starts to show.


 

When the bulb is connected with the coil, the piece of carbon, if small, may become highly incandescent at first, but its brightness immediately diminishes, and then the discharge may break through the glass somewhere in the middle of the stem, in the form of bright sparks, in spite of the fact that the platinum wire is in good electrical connection with the rarefied gas through the piece of carbon or metal at the top. The first sparks are singularly bright, recalling those drawn from a clear surface of mercury. But, as they heat the glass rapidly, they, of course, lose their brightness, and cease when the glass at the ruptured place becomes incandescent, or generally sufficiently hot to conduct. When observed for the first time the phenomenon must appear very curious, and shows in a striking manner how radically different alternate currents, or impulses, of high frequency behave, as compared with steady currents, or currents of low frequency. With such currents—namely, the latter—the phenomenon would of course not occur. When frequencies such as are obtained by mechanical means are used, I think that the rupture of the glass is more or less the consequence of the bombardment, which warms it up and impairs its insulating power; but with frequencies obtainable with condensers I have no doubt that the glass may give way without previous heating. Although this appears most singular at first, it is in reality what we might expect to occur. The energy supplied to the wire leading into the bulb is given off partly by direct action through the carbon button, and partly by inductive action through the glass surrounding the wire. The case is thus analogous to that in which a condenser shunted by a conductor of low resistance is connected to a source of alternating currents. As long as the frequencies are low, the conductor gets the most, and the condenser is perfectly safe: but when the frequency becomes excessive, the rôle of the conductor may become quite insignificant. In the latter case the difference of potential at the terminals of the condenser may become so great as to rupture the dielectric, notwithstanding the fact that the terminals are joined by a conductor of low resistance.

When the bulb is hooked up to the coil, a small piece of carbon can glow really bright at first, but then its brightness quickly fades. After that, the discharge might break through the glass somewhere in the middle of the stem, sparking brightly, even though the platinum wire is still well connected to the rarefied gas through the carbon or metal at the top. The initial sparks are particularly bright, reminiscent of those from a clear surface of mercury. However, as they heat the glass rapidly, they lose their brightness and stop when the glass at the break becomes incandescent or hot enough to conduct. Seeing this phenomenon for the first time must seem quite strange and dramatically illustrates how differently alternating currents, or high-frequency impulses, behave compared to steady currents or low-frequency currents. With low-frequency currents, this effect obviously wouldn't happen. When mechanical means generate frequencies, it seems that the rupture of the glass is mostly a result of the bombardment, which heats it up and reduces its insulating ability; but with frequencies achievable with capacitors, I believe the glass can break without being heated first. Although this might seem odd at first, it's actually something we could expect. The energy supplied to the wire going into the bulb is released partly through direct action via the carbon button and partly through inductive action through the glass around the wire. This is similar to a situation where a capacitor connected to a source of alternating currents is shunted by a low-resistance conductor. As long as the frequencies are low, the conductor gets the bulk of the energy, and the capacitor remains safe. But when the frequency gets too high, the role of the conductor may become minimal. In this case, the potential difference at the capacitor's terminals can become so significant that it ruptures the dielectric, even though the terminals are connected by a low-resistance conductor.

It is, of course, not necessary, when it is desired to produce the incandescence of a body inclosed in a bulb by means of these currents, that the body should be a conductor, for even a perfect non-conductor may be quite as readily heated. For this purpose it is sufficient to surround a conducting electrode with a non-conducting material, as, for instance, in the bulb described before in Fig. 21, in which a thin incandescent lamp filament is coated with a non-conductor, and supports a button of the same material on the top. At the start the bombardment goes on by inductive action through the non-conductor, until the same is sufficiently heated to become conducting, when the bombardment continues in the ordinary way.

It isn’t necessary, when trying to create the glow of a body encased in a bulb using these currents, for the body to be a conductor; even a perfect insulator can be heated just as effectively. For this purpose, it’s enough to surround a conducting electrode with a non-conducting material, as shown earlier in Fig. 21, where a thin incandescent lamp filament is coated with an insulator and has a button of the same material on top. Initially, the bombardment happens through inductive action via the insulator, until it gets hot enough to become conductive, after which the bombardment continues normally.

FIG. 23.—EFFECT PRODUCED BY A RUBY DROP.

A different arrangement used in some of the bulbs constructed is illustrated in Fig. 23. In this instance a non-conductor m is mounted in a piece of common arc light carbon so as to project some small distance above the latter. The carbon piece is connected to the leading-in wire passing through a glass stem, which is wrapped with several layers of mica. An aluminium tube a is employed as usual for screening. It is so arranged that it reaches very nearly as high as the carbon and only the non-conductor m projects a little above it. The bombardment goes at first against the upper surface of carbon, the lower parts being protected by the aluminium tube. As soon, however, as the non-conductor m is heated it is rendered good conducting, and then it becomes the centre of the bombardment, being most exposed to the same.

A different arrangement used in some of the bulbs being made is shown in Fig. 23. In this case, a non-conductor m is placed in a piece of regular arc light carbon so that it sticks out a bit above it. The carbon piece is connected to the lead wire that goes through a glass stem wrapped in several layers of mica. An aluminium tube a is used for shielding, positioned to nearly match the height of the carbon, with only the non-conductor m sticking out slightly. The bombardment initially hits the upper surface of the carbon, while the lower parts are shielded by the aluminium tube. However, once the non-conductor m heats up, it becomes a good conductor and then it becomes the focus of the bombardment, being the most exposed to it.

I have also constructed during these experiments many such single-wire bulbs with or without internal electrode, in which the radiant matter was projected against, or focused upon, the body to be rendered incandescent. Fig. 24 illustrates one of the bulbs used. It consists of a spherical globe L, provided with a long neck n, on the top, for increasing the action in some cases by the application of an external conducting coating. The globe L is blown out on the bottom into a very small bulb b, which serves to hold it firmly in a socket S of insulating material into which it is cemented. A fine lamp filament f, supported on a wire w, passes through the centre of the globe L. The filament is rendered incandescent in the middle portion, where the bombardment proceeding from the lower inside surface of the globe is most intense. The lower portion of the globe, as far as the socket S reaches, is rendered conducting, either by a tinfoil coating or otherwise, and the external electrode is connected to a terminal of the coil.

I also created many single-wire bulbs during these experiments, with or without an internal electrode, where the radiant matter was projected against or focused on the object to be heated. Fig. 24 shows one of the bulbs I used. It has a spherical globe L with a long neck n at the top, which can enhance the action in some cases by applying an external conductive coating. The globe L is tapered at the bottom into a small bulb b, which helps secure it in a socket S made of insulating material where it’s cemented in place. A fine lamp filament f, held by a wire w, goes through the center of the globe L. The filament lights up in the middle section, where the bombardment from the lower inside surface of the globe is strongest. The lower part of the globe, up to where the socket S is located, is made conducting, either with a tinfoil coating or another method, and the external electrode connects to a terminal on the coil.

The arrangement diagrammatically indicated in Fig. 24 was found to be an inferior one when it was desired to render incandescent a filament or button supported in the centre of the globe, but it was convenient when the object was to excite phosphorescence.

The setup shown in Fig. 24 was found to be less effective for illuminating a filament or button positioned in the center of the globe, but it was useful when the goal was to create phosphorescence.

In many experiments in which bodies of a different kind were mounted in the bulb as, for instance, indicated in Fig. 23, some observations of interest were made.

In many experiments where different types of materials were placed in the bulb, as shown in Fig. 23, some interesting observations were made.

It was found, among other things, that in such cases, no matter where the bombardment began, just as soon as a high temperature was reached there was generally one of the bodies which seemed to take most of the bombardment upon itself, the other, or others, being thereby relieved. This quality appeared to depend principally on the point of fusion, and on the facility with which the body was "evaporated," or, generally speaking, disintegrated—meaning by the latter term not only the throwing off of atoms, but likewise of larger lumps. The observation made was in accordance with generally accepted notions. In a highly exhausted bulb electricity is carried off from the electrode by independent carriers, which are partly the atoms, or molecules, of the residual atmosphere, and partly the atoms, molecules, or lumps thrown off from the electrode. If the electrode is composed of bodies of different character, and if one of these is more easily disintegrated than the others, most of the electricity supplied is carried off from that body, which is then brought to a higher temperature than the others, and this the more, as upon an increase of the temperature the body is still more easily disintegrated.

It was found, among other things, that in such cases, no matter where the bombardment started, as soon as a high temperature was reached, usually one of the bodies absorbed most of the bombardment, while the others were spared. This tendency seemed to mainly depend on the melting point and on how easily the body could be "evaporated," or generally speaking, disintegrated—meaning not just the release of atoms, but also of larger chunks. The observation aligned with commonly accepted ideas. In a highly exhausted bulb, electricity is drawn away from the electrode by independent carriers, which are partly the atoms or molecules of the remaining atmosphere, and partly the atoms, molecules, or chunks ejected from the electrode. If the electrode is made of different materials, and one of them breaks down more easily than the others, most of the electricity supplied is drawn off from that body, which then heats up more than the others, especially since an increase in temperature makes the body even easier to disintegrate.

It seems to me quite probable that a similar process takes place in the bulb even with a homogeneous electrode, and I think it to be the principal cause of the disintegration. There is bound to be some irregularity, even if the surface is highly polished, which, of course, is impossible with most of the refractory bodies employed as electrodes. Assume that a point of the electrode gets hotter, instantly most of the discharge passes through that point, and a minute patch is probably fused and evaporated. It is now possible that in consequence of the violent disintegration the spot attacked sinks in temperature, or that a counter force is created, as in an arc; at any rate, the local tearing off meets with the limitations incident to the experiment, whereupon the same process occurs on another place. To the eye the electrode appears uniformly brilliant, but there are upon it points constantly shifting and wandering around, of a temperature far above the mean, and this materially hastens the process of deterioration. That some such thing occurs, at least when the electrode is at a lower temperature, sufficient experimental evidence can be obtained in the following manner: Exhaust a bulb to a very high degree, so that with a fairly high potential the discharge cannot pass—that is, not a luminous one, for a weak invisible discharge occurs always, in all probability. Now raise slowly and carefully the potential, leaving the primary current on no more than for an instant. At a certain point, two, three, or half a dozen phosphorescent spots will appear on the globe. These places of the glass are evidently more violently bombarded than others, this being due to the unevenly distributed electric density, necessitated, of course, by sharp projections, or, generally speaking, irregularities of the electrode. But the luminous patches are constantly changing in position, which is especially well observable if one manages to produce very few, and this indicates that the configuration of the electrode is rapidly changing.

It seems quite likely to me that a similar process occurs in the bulb even with a uniform electrode, and I believe this is the main reason for the breakdown. There’s bound to be some irregularity, even if the surface is very smooth, which, of course, is usually not the case with most of the refractory materials used as electrodes. Imagine a spot on the electrode becomes hotter; most of the discharge will quickly go through that point, and a small area is likely melted and evaporated. It’s possible that due to the rapid breakdown, the affected spot cools down, or a counterforce is created, like in an arc; in any case, the local tearing away hits the limits of the experiment, and then the same thing happens in another spot. Although the electrode looks uniformly bright, there are areas that are constantly shifting around, with temperatures significantly higher than average, which speeds up the deterioration process. We can gather enough experimental evidence to show that something like this happens, especially when the electrode is at a lower temperature, by doing the following: Evacuate a bulb to a very high degree so that with a fairly high voltage, the discharge can't happen—that is, not a luminous one, since a weak invisible discharge likely always occurs. Then slowly and carefully increase the voltage, keeping the primary current on for just a moment. At a certain point, two, three, or even half a dozen glowing spots will show up on the globe. These areas of glass are clearly being bombarded more violently than others, due to the uneven distribution of electric density created by sharp projections or, generally, irregularities in the electrode. However, the glowing spots are constantly changing position, which is particularly noticeable if only a few are produced, indicating that the shape of the electrode is rapidly changing.

From experiences of this kind I am led to infer that, in order to be most durable, the refractory button in the bulb should be in the form of a sphere with a highly polished surface. Such a small sphere could be manufactured from a diamond or some other crystal, but a better way would be to fuse, by the employment of extreme degrees of temperature, some oxide—as, for instance, zirconia—into a small drop, and then keep it in the bulb at a temperature somewhat below its point of fusion.

From experiences like this, I've come to the conclusion that for maximum durability, the refractory button in the bulb should be shaped like a sphere with a highly polished surface. This small sphere could be made from diamond or another crystal, but a better approach would be to fuse some oxide, like zirconia, into a small droplet using extremely high temperatures, and then keep it in the bulb at a temperature slightly below its melting point.

Interesting and useful results can no doubt be reached in the direction of extreme degrees of heat. How can such high temperatures be arrived at? How are the highest degrees of heat reached in nature? By the impact of stars, by high speeds and collisions. In a collision any rate of heat generation may be attained. In a chemical process we are limited. When oxygen and hydrogen combine, they fall, metaphorically speaking, from a definite height. We cannot go very far with a blast, nor by confining heat in a furnace, but in an exhausted bulb we can concentrate any amount of energy upon a minute button. Leaving practicability out of consideration, this, then, would be the means which, in my opinion, would enable us to reach the highest temperature. But a great difficulty when proceeding in this way is encountered, namely, in most cases the body is carried off before it can fuse and form a drop. This difficulty exists principally with an oxide such as zirconia, because it cannot be compressed in so hard a cake that it would not be carried off quickly. I endeavored repeatedly to fuse zirconia, placing it in a cup or arc light carbon as indicated in Fig. 23. It glowed with a most intense light, and the stream of the particles projected out of the carbon cup was of a vivid white: but whether it was compressed in a cake or made into a paste with carbon, it was carried off before it could be fused. The carbon cup containing the zirconia had to be mounted very low in the neck of a large bulb, as the heating of the glass by the projected particles of the oxide was so rapid that in the first trial the bulb was cracked almost in an instant when the current was turned on. The heating of the glass by the projected particles was found to be always greater when the carbon cup contained a body which was rapidly carried off—I presume because in such cases, with the same potential, higher speeds were reached, and also because, per unit of time, more matter was projected—that is, more particles would strike the glass.

It's definitely possible to achieve interesting and useful results when exploring extreme temperatures. So, how do we reach such high temperatures? In nature, the highest temperatures are reached through star impacts, high speeds, and collisions. In a collision, we can generate any amount of heat. However, in a chemical reaction, we have limitations. When oxygen and hydrogen combine, they, metaphorically speaking, fall from a certain height. We can't get very far with an explosion or by trapping heat in a furnace, but in an evacuated bulb, we can focus an immense amount of energy on a tiny spot. Setting practicality aside, I believe this method would allow us to achieve the highest temperature. But there’s a significant challenge with this approach: in most cases, the material gets blown away before it can melt and form a drop. This issue is especially prevalent with oxides like zirconia, as it can't be compacted into a solid enough form that it won't be quickly ejected. I repeatedly attempted to melt zirconia by placing it in a cup or carbon from an arc light, as shown in Fig. 23. It emitted an extremely bright light, and the stream of particles ejected from the carbon cup was a bright white. However, whether it was compressed into a cake or mixed with carbon paste, it was still expelled before it could melt. The carbon cup holding the zirconia had to be positioned very low in the neck of a large bulb since the glass heated up so quickly from the ejected oxide particles that during my first attempt, the bulb cracked almost immediately once the current was activated. The glass heating from the ejected particles was consistently higher when the carbon cup contained a material that was rapidly expelled—likely because in such cases, with the same energy level, higher speeds were achieved. Additionally, over time, more material was expelled, meaning more particles would hit the glass.

The before mentioned difficulty did not exist, however, when the body mounted in the carbon cup offered great resistance to deterioration. For instance, when an oxide was first fused in an oxygen blast and then mounted in the bulb, it melted very readily into a drop.

The earlier mentioned difficulty didn’t exist, however, when the body set in the carbon cup showed high resistance to decay. For example, when an oxide was first melted in an oxygen blast and then placed in the bulb, it easily melted into a droplet.

Generally during the process of fusion magnificent light effects were noted, of which it would be difficult to give an adequate idea. Fig. 23 is intended to illustrate the effect observed with a ruby drop. At first one may see a narrow funnel of white light projected against the top of the globe, where it produces an irregularly outlined phosphorescent patch. When the point of the ruby fuses the phosphorescence becomes very powerful; but as the atoms are projected with much greater speed from the surface of the drop, soon the glass gets hot and "tired," and now only the outer edge of the patch glows. In this manner an intensely phosphorescent, sharply defined line, l, corresponding to the outline of the drop, is produced, which spreads slowly over the globe as the drop gets larger. When the mass begins to boil, small bubbles and cavities are formed, which cause dark colored spots to sweep across the globe. The bulb may be turned downward without fear of the drop falling off, as the mass possesses considerable viscosity.

Generally, during the fusion process, there were amazing light effects that are hard to describe adequately. Fig. 23 shows the effect seen with a ruby drop. At first, you might see a narrow funnel of white light projected onto the top of the globe, creating an irregularly shaped phosphorescent patch. When the tip of the ruby melts, the phosphorescence becomes very strong; however, as the atoms shoot off the surface of the drop with much greater speed, the glass soon gets hot and "tired," causing only the outer edge of the patch to glow. This creates a brightly phosphorescent, sharply defined line, l, that matches the outline of the drop and slowly spreads over the globe as the drop grows. When the mass starts to boil, small bubbles and cavities form, causing dark spots to move across the globe. The bulb can be tilted downward without worrying about the drop falling off, since the mass is quite viscous.

I may mention here another feature of some interest, which I believe to have noted in the course of these experiments, though the observations do not amount to a certitude. It appeared that under the molecular impact caused by the rapidly alternating potential the body was fused and maintained in that state at a lower temperature in a highly exhausted bulb than was the case at normal pressure and application of heat in the ordinary way—that is, at least, judging from the quantity of the light emitted. One of the experiments performed may be mentioned here by way of illustration. A small piece of pumice stone was stuck on a platinum wire, and first melted to it in a gas burner. The wire was next placed between two pieces of charcoal and a burner applied so as to produce an intense heat, sufficient to melt down the pumice stone into a small glass-like button. The platinum wire had to be taken of sufficient thickness to prevent its melting in the fire. While in the charcoal fire, or when held in a burner to get a better idea of the degree of heat, the button glowed with great brilliancy. The wire with the button was then mounted in a bulb, and upon exhausting the same to a high degree, the current was turned on slowly so as to prevent the cracking of the button. The button was heated to the point of fusion, and when it melted it did not, apparently, glow with the same brilliancy as before, and this would indicate a lower temperature. Leaving out of consideration the observer's possible, and even probable, error, the question is, can a body under these conditions be brought from a solid to a liquid state with evolution of less light?

I want to point out another interesting aspect, which I've noticed during these experiments, although the observations aren't definitive. It seemed that the body was fused and kept in that state at a lower temperature in a highly exhausted bulb than it was at normal pressure with traditional heat application—and this is at least the conclusion I can draw from the amount of light emitted. One of the experiments I carried out can serve as an example. A small piece of pumice stone was attached to a platinum wire and first melted onto it in a gas burner. The wire was then placed between two pieces of charcoal, and a burner was applied to create intense heat, enough to melt the pumice stone into a small glass-like button. The platinum wire had to be thick enough to avoid melting in the fire. In the charcoal fire, or when held in a burner to better gauge the heat, the button glowed very brightly. The wire with the button was then mounted in a bulb, and once the bulb was exhausted to a high degree, the current was gradually turned on to prevent the button from cracking. The button was heated to the point of melting, and when it melted, it didn’t seem to glow as brightly as before, which suggests a lower temperature. Setting aside any potential errors from the observer, the question is, can something under these conditions transition from solid to liquid while producing less light?

When the potential of a body is rapidly alternated it is certain that the structure is jarred. When the potential is very high, although the vibrations may be few—say 20,000 per second—the effect upon the structure may be considerable. Suppose, for example, that a ruby is melted into a drop by a steady application of energy. When it forms a drop it will emit visible and invisible waves, which will be in a definite ratio, and to the eye the drop will appear to be of a certain brilliancy. Next, suppose we diminish to any degree we choose the energy steadily supplied, and, instead, supply energy which rises and falls according to a certain law. Now, when the drop is formed, there will be emitted from it three different kinds of vibrations—the ordinary visible, and two kinds of invisible waves: that is, the ordinary dark waves of all lengths, and, in addition, waves of a well defined character. The latter would not exist by a steady supply of the energy; still they help to jar and loosen the structure. If this really be the case, then the ruby drop will emit relatively less visible and more invisible waves than before. Thus it would seem that when a platinum wire, for instance, is fused by currents alternating with extreme rapidity, it emits at the point of fusion less light and more invisible radiation than it does when melted by a steady current, though the total energy used up in the process of fusion is the same in both cases. Or, to cite another example, a lamp filament is not capable of withstanding as long with currents of extreme frequency as it does with steady currents, assuming that it be worked at the same luminous intensity. This means that for rapidly alternating currents the filament should be shorter and thicker. The higher the frequency—that is, the greater the departure from the steady flow—the worse it would be for the filament. But if the truth of this remark were demonstrated, it would be erroneous to conclude that such a refractory button as used in these bulbs would be deteriorated quicker by currents of extremely high frequency than by steady or low frequency currents. From experience I may say that just the opposite holds good: the button withstands the bombardment better with currents of very high frequency. But this is due to the fact that a high frequency discharge passes through a rarefied gas with much greater freedom than a steady or low frequency discharge, and this will say that with the former we can work with a lower potential or with a less violent impact. As long, then, as the gas is of no consequence, a steady or low frequency current is better; but as soon as the action of the gas is desired and important, high frequencies are preferable.

When the potential of a body switches rapidly, it's clear that the structure is affected. Even if the vibrations are few—like 20,000 per second—a high potential can have a significant impact on the structure. For example, if energy is steadily applied to melt a ruby into a droplet, it will emit both visible and invisible waves in a specific ratio, making the droplet appear a certain brightness. If we then reduce the energy supplied and instead give energy that fluctuates in a specific pattern, the droplet will emit three types of vibrations—normal visible light, and two types of invisible waves: the usual dark waves of all lengths, plus waves with a specific nature, which wouldn't exist with a steady energy supply but help disrupt the structure. If this is true, the ruby droplet will emit less visible light and more invisible waves than before. Therefore, when a platinum wire, for example, is melted by currents that alternate very rapidly, it emits less light and more invisible radiation at the melting point compared to when it's melted by a steady current, even though the total energy used in both processes is the same. Likewise, a lamp filament can't handle high-frequency currents as well as it can steady currents, assuming it operates at the same brightness level. This suggests that for rapidly alternating currents, the filament should be shorter and thicker. The higher the frequency—meaning the greater the deviation from a steady flow—the more detrimental it is for the filament. However, if this observation were verified, it would be incorrect to assume that a refractory button used in these bulbs would wear out faster with extremely high-frequency currents than with steady or low-frequency ones. In fact, I can say from experience that the opposite is true: the button endures high-frequency currents better. This is because a high-frequency discharge moves through a rarified gas more freely than a steady or low-frequency discharge, which means we can operate at a lower potential or with less violent impact. So, as long as gas isn't a factor, a steady or low-frequency current is preferable; but when the gas's interaction is important, high frequencies are better.

In the course of these experiments a great many trials were made with all kinds of carbon buttons. Electrodes made of ordinary carbon buttons were decidedly more durable when the buttons were obtained by the application of enormous pressure. Electrodes prepared by depositing carbon in well known ways did not show up well; they blackened the globe very quickly. From many experiences I conclude that lamp filaments obtained in this manner can be advantageously used only with low potentials and low frequency currents. Some kinds of carbon withstand so well that, in order to bring them to the point of fusion, it is necessary to employ very small buttons. In this case the observation is rendered very difficult on account of the intense heat produced. Nevertheless there can be no doubt that all kinds of carbon are fused under the molecular bombardment, but the liquid state must be one of great instability. Of all the bodies tried there were two which withstood best—diamond and carborundum. These two showed up about equally, but the latter was preferable, for many reasons. As it is more than likely that this body is not yet generally known, I will venture to call your attention to it.

During these experiments, many tests were conducted with various types of carbon buttons. Electrodes made from regular carbon buttons lasted significantly longer when these buttons were produced using extreme pressure. Electrodes created by depositing carbon using traditional methods didn’t perform well; they quickly blackened the globe. From numerous experiences, I've concluded that lamp filaments made this way can only be effectively used with low voltages and low-frequency currents. Some types of carbon are so resistant that to melt them, very small buttons need to be used. This makes observation quite challenging due to the intense heat generated. Still, it's clear that all types of carbon can be melted under molecular bombardment, but the resulting liquid state is likely very unstable. Out of all the materials tested, two were the most durable—diamond and carborundum. Both performed similarly, but carborundum was preferable for many reasons. Since it’s likely that this material is not yet widely known, I’d like to draw your attention to it.

It has been recently produced by Mr. E.G. Acheson, of Monongahela City, Pa., U.S.A. It is intended to replace ordinary diamond powder for polishing precious stones, etc., and I have been informed that it accomplishes this object quite successfully. I do not know why the name "carborundum" has been given to it, unless there is something in the process of its manufacture which justifies this selection. Through the kindness of the inventor, I obtained a short while ago some samples which I desired to test in regard to their qualities of phosphorescence and capability of withstanding high degrees of heat.

It was recently produced by Mr. E.G. Acheson from Monongahela City, PA, USA. It's meant to replace regular diamond powder for polishing precious stones, and I've been informed that it does this quite effectively. I'm not sure why it's called "carborundum," unless there's something in how it's made that explains the name. Thanks to the inventor's generosity, I got some samples a while ago that I wanted to test for their phosphorescence and ability to handle high temperatures.

Carborundum can be obtained in two forms—in the form of "crystals" and of powder. The former appear to the naked eye dark colored, but are very brilliant; the latter is of nearly the same color as ordinary diamond powder, but very much finer. When viewed under a microscope the samples of crystals given to me did not appear to have any definite form, but rather resembled pieces of broken up egg coal of fine quality. The majority were opaque, but there were some which were transparent and colored. The crystals are a kind of carbon containing some impurities; they are extremely hard, and withstand for a long time even an oxygen blast. When the blast is directed against them they at first form a cake of some compactness, probably in consequence of the fusion of impurities they contain. The mass withstands for a very long time the blast without further fusion; but a slow carrying off, or burning, occurs, and, finally, a small quantity of a glass-like residue is left, which, I suppose, is melted alumina. When compressed strongly they conduct very well, but not as well as ordinary carbon. The powder, which is obtained from the crystals in some way, is practically non-conducting. It affords a magnificent polishing material for stones.

Carborundum comes in two forms: "crystals" and powder. The crystals look dark at first glance but are actually very shiny; the powder is almost the same color as regular diamond powder, just much finer. Under a microscope, the crystals I received didn't seem to have a clear shape but looked more like pieces of high-quality broken coal. Most of them were opaque, though some were transparent and colored. These crystals are a type of carbon with some impurities; they're extremely hard and can endure an oxygen blast for a long time. When the blast hits them, they initially form a compact cake, likely due to the melting of the impurities. The mass can withstand the blast for quite a while without melting further, but it does slowly burn away, leaving behind a small amount of a glass-like residue, which I assume is melted alumina. When subjected to strong pressure, they conduct well, but not as effectively as regular carbon. The powder, which is obtained from the crystals by some method, is almost non-conductive and serves as an excellent polishing agent for stones.

The time has been too short to make a satisfactory study of the properties of this product, but enough experience has been gained in a few weeks I have experimented upon it to say that it does possess some remarkable properties in many respects. It withstands excessively high degrees of heat, it is little deteriorated by molecular bombardment, and it does not blacken the globe as ordinary carbon does. The only difficulty which I have found in its use in connection with these experiments was to find some binding material which would resist the heat and the effect of the bombardment as successfully as carborundum itself does.

The time has been too limited to conduct a thorough study of this product's properties, but from the experience I've gained over the few weeks I've experimented with it, I can say that it has some impressive qualities in many ways. It can handle extremely high temperatures, is minimally affected by molecular bombardment, and does not blacken the globe like regular carbon does. The only challenge I've faced in using it for these experiments was finding a binding material that can withstand the heat and the impact of the bombardment as effectively as carborundum itself does.

I have here a number of bulbs which I have provided with buttons of carborundum. To make such a button of carborundum crystals I proceed in the following manner: I take an ordinary lamp filament and dip its point in tar, or some other thick substance or paint which may be readily carbonized. I next pass the point of the filament through the crystals, and then hold it vertically over a hot plate. The tar softens and forms a drop on the point of the filament, the crystals adhering to the surface of the drop. By regulating the distance from the plate the tar is slowly dried out and the button becomes solid. I then once more dip the button in tar and hold it again over a plate until the tar is evaporated, leaving only a hard mass which firmly binds the crystals. When a larger button is required I repeat the process several times, and I generally also cover the filament a certain distance below the button with crystals. The button being mounted in a bulb, when a good vacuum has been reached, first a weak and then a strong discharge is passed through the bulb to carbonize the tar and expel all gases, and later it is brought to a very intense incandescence.

I have a bunch of bulbs that I've equipped with carborundum buttons. To create a carborundum button, I do the following: I take a regular lamp filament and dip the tip in tar or some other thick substance that can easily be carbonized. Then, I pass the tip of the filament through the crystals and hold it upright over a hot plate. The tar melts and forms a drop at the tip of the filament, with the crystals sticking to the surface of that drop. By adjusting the distance from the plate, the tar gradually dries out and the button solidifies. I then dip the button in tar again and hold it over the plate until the tar evaporates, leaving behind a solid mass that securely holds the crystals. If I need a larger button, I repeat this process several times, and I usually also cover the filament a bit below the button with crystals. Once the button is mounted in a bulb and a good vacuum is achieved, I initially send a weak discharge through the bulb followed by a strong one to carbonize the tar and remove any gases, and then I heat it to a very high incandescence.

When the powder is used I have found it best to proceed as follows: I make a thick paint of carborundum and tar, and pass a lamp filament through the paint. Taking then most of the paint off by rubbing the filament against a piece of chamois leather, I hold it over a hot plate until the tar evaporates and the coating becomes firm. I repeat this process as many times as it is necessary to obtain a certain thickness of coating. On the point of the coated filament I form a button in the same manner.

When I use the powder, I’ve found it works best to do the following: I create a thick paste of carborundum and tar, and then I push a lamp filament through the paste. After that, I wipe most of the paste off by rubbing the filament against some chamois leather and hold it over a hot plate until the tar evaporates and the coating hardens. I repeat this process as many times as needed to achieve a specific thickness of coating. At the tip of the coated filament, I form a button in the same way.

There is no doubt that such a button—properly prepared under great pressure—of carborundum, especially of powder of the best quality, will withstand the effect of the bombardment fully as well as anything we know. The difficulty is that the binding material gives way, and the carborundum is slowly thrown off after some time. As it does not seem to blacken the globe in the least, it might be found useful for coating the filaments of ordinary incandescent lamps, and I think that it is even possible to produce thin threads or sticks of carborundum which will replace the ordinary filaments in an incandescent lamp. A carborundum coating seems to be more durable than other coatings, not only because the carborundum can withstand high degrees of heat, but also because it seems to unite with the carbon better than any other material I have tried. A coating of zirconia or any other oxide, for instance, is far more quickly destroyed. I prepared buttons of diamond dust in the same manner as of carborundum, and these came in durability nearest to those prepared of carborundum, but the binding paste gave way much more quickly in the diamond buttons: this, however, I attributed to the size and irregularity of the grains of the diamond.

There’s no doubt that a properly made carborundum button, especially one made from high-quality powder and created under great pressure, can withstand bombardment just as well as anything we know. The problem is that the binding material tends to fail, causing the carborundum to gradually come off over time. Since it doesn’t seem to darken the globe at all, it could be useful for coating the filaments in regular incandescent bulbs, and I think it’s even possible to create thin strands or sticks of carborundum that would replace the standard filaments in an incandescent lamp. A carborundum coating appears to be more durable than other coatings, not only because it can handle high temperatures but also because it seems to bond better with carbon than any other material I’ve tested. For example, a coating of zirconia or any other oxide wears away much more quickly. I made buttons from diamond dust in the same way as with carborundum, and these were nearly as durable as the carborundum buttons, but the binding paste in the diamond buttons failed much sooner. I attributed this to the size and irregular shape of the diamond grains.

It was of interest to find whether carborundum possesses the quality of phosphorescence. One is, of course, prepared to encounter two difficulties: first, as regards the rough product, the "crystals," they are good conducting, and it is a fact that conductors do not phosphoresce; second, the powder, being exceedingly fine, would not be apt to exhibit very prominently this quality, since we know that when crystals, even such as diamond or ruby, are finely powdered, they lose the property of phosphorescence to a considerable degree.

It was interesting to investigate whether carborundum has the property of phosphorescence. There are, of course, two main challenges: first, regarding the rough product, the "crystals," they are good conductors, and conductors typically do not phosphoresce; second, the powder, being extremely fine, is unlikely to show this property very clearly, since we know that when crystals, even ones like diamond or ruby, are finely powdered, they significantly lose their phosphorescence.

The question presents itself here, can a conductor phosphoresce? What is there in such a body as a metal, for instance, that would deprive it of the quality of phosphorescence, unless it is that property which characterizes it as a conductor? for it is a fact that most of the phosphorescent bodies lose that quality when they are sufficiently heated to become more or less conducting. Then, if a metal be in a large measure, or perhaps entirely, deprived of that property, it should be capable of phosphorescence. Therefore it is quite possible that at some extremely high frequency, when behaving practically as a non-conductor, a metal or any other conductor might exhibit the quality of phosphorescence, even though it be entirely incapable of phosphorescing under the impact of a low-frequency discharge. There is, however, another possible way how a conductor might at least appear to phosphoresce.

The question arises here: can a conductor glow in the dark? What is it about a material like metal that prevents it from having the property of phosphorescence, unless it’s the characteristic that defines it as a conductor? It’s a fact that most materials that glow in the dark lose that ability when heated enough to become somewhat conductive. So, if a metal is largely, or maybe completely, stripped of that property, it should be able to glow in the dark. Therefore, it’s quite possible that at some extremely high frequency, when it behaves almost like a non-conductor, a metal or any other conductor might show signs of phosphorescence, even if it cannot glow under the influence of a low-frequency discharge. However, there is another possible way for a conductor to at least seem to glow in the dark.

Considerable doubt still exists as to what really is phosphorescence, and as to whether the various phenomena comprised under this head are due to the same causes. Suppose that in an exhausted bulb, under the molecular impact, the surface of a piece of metal or other conductor is rendered strongly luminous, but at the same time it is found that it remains comparatively cool, would not this luminosity be called phosphorescence? Now such a result, theoretically at least, is possible, for it is a mere question of potential or speed. Assume the potential of the electrode, and consequently the speed of the projected atoms, to be sufficiently high, the surface of the metal piece against which the atoms are projected would be rendered highly incandescent, since the process of heat generation would be incomparably faster than that of radiating or conducting away from the surface of the collision. In the eye of the observer a single impact of the atoms would cause an instantaneous flash, but if the impacts were repeated with sufficient rapidity they would produce a continuous impression upon his retina. To him then the surface of the metal would appear continuously incandescent and of constant luminous intensity, while in reality the light would be either intermittent or at least changing periodically in intensity. The metal piece would rise in temperature until equilibrium was attained—that is until the energy continuously radiated would equal that intermittently supplied. But the supplied energy might under such conditions not be sufficient to bring the body to any more than a very moderate mean temperature, especially if the frequency of the atomic impacts be very low—just enough that the fluctuation of the intensity of the light emitted could not be detected by the eye. The body would now, owing to the manner in which the energy is supplied, emit a strong light, and yet be at a comparatively very low mean temperature. How could the observer call the luminosity thus produced? Even if the analysis of the light would teach him something definite, still he would probably rank it under the phenomena of phosphorescence. It is conceivable that in such a way both conducting and non-conducting bodies may be maintained at a certain luminous intensity, but the energy required would very greatly vary with the nature and properties of the bodies.

Considerable doubt still exists about what phosphorescence really is and whether the various phenomena grouped under this term are caused by the same factors. Imagine that in an evacuated bulb, under molecular impact, the surface of a piece of metal or another conductor becomes highly luminous, yet it remains relatively cool—wouldn't we call this phosphorescence? This outcome is theoretically possible since it’s just a matter of potential or speed. If we assume the potential of the electrode, and consequently the speed of the projected atoms, is high enough, the surface of the metal would become highly incandescent because the process of heat generation would be much faster than the process of radiating or conducting heat away from the surface where the atoms collide. To an observer, a single impact from the atoms would create a quick flash, but if the impacts occur rapidly enough, they would leave a continuous impression on their retina. As a result, the surface of the metal would appear continuously incandescent and consistently bright, while in reality, the light would either be intermittent or at least fluctuate periodically in intensity. The metal would warm up until it reached equilibrium—that is, until the energy radiated continuously equals the energy intermittently supplied. However, under these conditions, the energy provided might only be enough to elevate the average temperature to a modest level, especially if the frequency of atomic impacts is very low—just enough that the fluctuations in the intensity of the emitted light go unnoticed by the eye. The body would, due to how energy is supplied, emit a strong light while still being at a comparatively low average temperature. How would the observer label the luminosity produced in this way? Even if analyzing the light provided some clear conclusions, they would likely categorize it as a form of phosphorescence. It’s conceivable that both conducting and insulating materials could be maintained at a certain luminous intensity, but the energy needed would vary greatly depending on the materials' nature and properties.

These and some foregoing remarks of a speculative nature were made merely to bring out curious features of alternate currents or electric impulses. By their help we may cause a body to emit more light, while at a certain mean temperature, than it would emit if brought to that temperature by a steady supply; and, again, we may bring a body to the point of fusion, and cause it to emit less light than when fused by the application of energy in ordinary ways. It all depends on how we supply the energy, and what kind of vibrations we set up: in one case the vibrations are more, in the other less, adapted to affect our sense of vision.

These and some earlier comments of a speculative nature were made just to highlight interesting aspects of alternating currents or electric impulses. With their help, we can make an object emit more light at a specific average temperature than it would if it was raised to that temperature with a constant supply; and, similarly, we can bring an object to its melting point and make it emit less light than when it is melted using regular methods. It all depends on how we provide the energy and what types of vibrations we create: in one case, the vibrations are more, in the other, less suited to affect our sense of sight.

Some effects, which I had not observed before, obtained with carborundum in the first trials, I attributed to phosphorescence, but in subsequent experiments it appeared that it was devoid of that quality. The crystals possess a noteworthy feature. In a bulb provided with a single electrode in the shape of a small circular metal disc, for instance, at a certain degree of exhaustion the electrode is covered with a milky film, which is separated by a dark space from the glow filling the bulb. When the metal disc is covered with carborundum crystals, the film is far more intense, and snow-white. This I found later to be merely an effect of the bright surface of the crystals, for when an aluminium electrode was highly polished it exhibited more or less the same phenomenon. I made a number of experiments with the samples of crystals obtained, principally because it would have been of special interest to find that they are capable of phosphorescence, on account of their being conducting. I could not produce phosphorescence distinctly, but I must remark that a decisive opinion cannot be formed until other experimenters have gone over the same ground.

Some effects that I hadn’t noticed before during the initial tests with carborundum, I thought were due to phosphorescence, but in later experiments, it turned out that it didn’t have that property. The crystals have a notable feature. In a bulb with a single electrode shaped like a small circular metal disc, for example, at a certain level of vacuum, the electrode gets covered with a milky film, separated by a dark space from the glow in the bulb. When the metal disc is coated with carborundum crystals, the film is much more intense and pure white. I later discovered that this was just an effect of the shiny surface of the crystals, because when an aluminum electrode is highly polished, it showed a similar phenomenon. I conducted several experiments with the crystal samples I obtained, mainly because it would have been particularly interesting to find that they could exhibit phosphorescence, since they are conductive. I couldn’t produce phosphorescence clearly, but I have to point out that a definitive conclusion cannot be reached until other researchers carry out the same experiments.

The powder behaved in some experiments as though it contained alumina, but it did not exhibit with sufficient distinctness the red of the latter. Its dead color brightens considerably under the molecular impact, but I am now convinced it does not phosphoresce. Still, the tests with the powder are not conclusive, because powdered carborundum probably does not behave like a phosphorescent sulphide, for example, which could be finely powdered without impairing the phosphorescence, but rather like powdered ruby or diamond, and therefore it would be necessary, in order to make a decisive test, to obtain it in a large lump and polish up the surface.

The powder acted in some experiments as if it contained alumina, but it didn’t show the red of alumina clearly enough. Its dull color really brightens under molecular impact, but I’m now sure it doesn’t phosphoresce. However, the tests with the powder aren't definitive, because powdered carborundum probably doesn't behave like a phosphorescent sulfide, which can be finely powdered without losing its phosphorescence, but more like powdered ruby or diamond. Therefore, to make a clear test, we need to get it in a large piece and polish the surface.

If the carborundum proves useful in connection with these and similar experiments, its chief value will be found in the production of coatings, thin conductors, buttons, or other electrodes capable of withstanding extremely high degrees of heat.

If carborundum turns out to be useful in these and similar experiments, its main value will be in making coatings, thin conductors, buttons, or other electrodes that can handle extremely high temperatures.

The production of a small electrode capable of withstanding enormous temperatures I regard as of the greatest importance in the manufacture of light. It would enable us to obtain, by means of currents of very high frequencies, certainly 20 times, if not more, the quantity of light which is obtained in the present incandescent lamp by the same expenditure of energy. This estimate may appear to many exaggerated, but in reality I think it is far from being so. As this statement might be misunderstood I think it necessary to expose clearly the problem with which in this line of work we are confronted, and the manner in which, in my opinion, a solution will be arrived at.

The creation of a small electrode that can handle extremely high temperatures is, in my view, crucial for producing light. It would allow us to generate, using currents at very high frequencies, at least 20 times—if not more—the amount of light that current incandescent lamps produce with the same energy input. This estimate might seem exaggerated to some, but I believe it is quite realistic. Since this statement could be easily misunderstood, I think it’s important to clearly explain the challenge we face in this area and how I believe we can solve it.

Any one who begins a study of the problem will be apt to think that what is wanted in a lamp with an electrode is a very high degree of incandescence of the electrode. There he will be mistaken. The high incandescence of the button is a necessary evil, but what is really wanted is the high incandescence of the gas surrounding the button. In other words, the problem in such a lamp is to bring a mass of gas to the highest possible incandescence. The higher the incandescence, the quicker the mean vibration, the greater is the economy of the light production. But to maintain a mass of gas at a high degree of incandescence in a glass vessel, it will always be necessary to keep the incandescent mass away from the glass; that is, to confine it as much as possible to the central portion of the globe.

Anyone who starts studying the problem is likely to think that what’s needed in a lamp with an electrode is a very high level of incandescence of the electrode. This understanding would be wrong. The high incandescence of the button is a necessary drawback, but what’s really important is the high incandescence of the gas around the button. Simply put, the challenge in such a lamp is to heat a mass of gas to the highest possible level of incandescence. The higher the incandescence, the faster the average vibration, which leads to greater efficiency in light production. However, to keep a mass of gas at a high degree of incandescence in a glass container, it’s always necessary to keep the incandescent mass away from the glass; that is, to confine it as much as possible to the central part of the globe.

In one of the experiments this evening a brush was produced at the end of a wire. This brush was a flame, a source of heat and light. It did not emit much perceptible heat, nor did it glow with an intense light; but is it the less a flame because it does not scorch my hand? Is it the less a flame because it does not hurt my eye by its brilliancy? The problem is precisely to produce in the bulb such a flame, much smaller in size, but incomparably more powerful. Were there means at hand for producing electric impulses of a sufficiently high frequency, and for transmitting them, the bulb could be done away with, unless it were used to protect the electrode, or to economize the energy by confining the heat. But as such means are not at disposal, it becomes necessary to place the terminal in a bulb and rarefy the air in the same. This is done merely to enable the apparatus to perform the work which it is not capable of performing at ordinary air pressure. In the bulb we are able to intensify the action to any degree—so far that the brush emits a powerful light. The intensity of the light emitted depends principally on the frequency and potential of the impulses, and on the electric density of the surface of the electrode. It is of the greatest importance to employ the smallest possible button, in order to push the density very far. Under the violent impact of the molecules of the gas surrounding it, the small electrode is of course brought to an extremely high temperature, but around it is a mass of highly incandescent gas, a flame photosphere, many hundred times the volume of the electrode. With a diamond, carborundum or zirconia button the photosphere can be as much as one thousand times the volume of the button. Without much reflecting one would think that in pushing so far the incandescence of the electrode it would be instantly volatilized. But after a careful consideration he would find that, theoretically, it should not occur, and in this fact—which, however, is experimentally demonstrated—lies principally the future value of such a lamp.

In one of this evening's experiments, a brush appeared at the end of a wire. This brush was a flame, creating heat and light. It didn’t give off a lot of noticeable heat, nor did it shine intensely; but does that make it any less of a flame just because it doesn’t burn my hand? Does it make it less of a flame because it doesn’t hurt my eyes with its brightness? The goal is precisely to create a flame in the bulb that is much smaller in size but vastly more powerful. If there were ways to generate electric impulses with a high enough frequency and to transmit them, the bulb could be unnecessary, except to protect the electrode or to conserve energy by trapping heat. But since such means aren’t available, we have to place the terminal in a bulb and reduce the air pressure inside it. This is simply to allow the apparatus to carry out functions it can’t manage at normal air pressure. Within the bulb, we can amplify the activity to any extent—enough that the brush produces a strong light. The brightness of the emitted light mainly depends on the frequency and strength of the impulses, as well as the electric density on the electrode's surface. It's crucial to use the smallest possible button to push the density to the limit. Due to the intense impact of the surrounding gas molecules, the small electrode, of course, reaches an extremely high temperature, but surrounding it is a mass of highly incandescent gas, a flame photosphere, that is hundreds of times larger than the electrode itself. With a diamond, carborundum, or zirconia button, the photosphere can be up to a thousand times the volume of the button. Without much thought, one might assume that pushing the electrode to such an intense glow would cause it to vaporize immediately. However, upon careful consideration, one would realize that, theoretically, that shouldn’t happen, and this fact—which has been experimentally demonstrated—represents much of the future potential of such a lamp.

At first, when the bombardment begins, most of the work is performed on the surface of the button, but when a highly conducting photosphere is formed the button is comparatively relieved. The higher the incandescence of the photosphere the more it approaches in conductivity to that of the electrode, and the more, therefore, the solid and the gas form one conducting body. The consequence is that the further is forced the incandescence the more work, comparatively, is performed on the gas, and the less on the electrode. The formation of a powerful photosphere is consequently the very means for protecting the electrode. This protection, of course, is a relative one, and it should not be thought that by pushing the incandescence higher the electrode is actually less deteriorated. Still, theoretically, with extreme frequencies, this result must be reached, but probably at a temperature too high for most of the refractory bodies known. Given, then, an electrode which can withstand to a very high limit the effect of the bombardment and outward strain, it would be safe no matter how much it is forced beyond that limit. In an incandescent lamp quite different considerations apply. There the gas is not at all concerned: the whole of the work is performed on the filament; and the life of the lamp diminishes so rapidly with the increase of the degree of incandescence that economical reasons compel us to work it at a low incandescence. But if an incandescent lamp is operated with currents of very high frequency, the action of the gas cannot be neglected, and the rules for the most economical working must be considerably modified.

At first, when the bombardment starts, most of the work happens on the surface of the button. However, when a highly conductive photosphere forms, the button is somewhat relieved. The higher the brightness of the photosphere, the closer its conductivity becomes to that of the electrode, which means that the solid and the gas act like one conductive body. As a result, the more intense the brightness, the more work is done on the gas and less on the electrode. Therefore, creating a strong photosphere is an effective way to protect the electrode. This protection is relative, though, and it shouldn't be assumed that increasing the brightness reduces the damage to the electrode. In theory, with extremely high frequencies, this effect could be achieved, but likely at temperatures too high for most known refractory materials. If we have an electrode that can withstand the effects of bombardment and outward strain up to a very high limit, it would be safe regardless of how much it's pushed beyond that limit. In an incandescent lamp, the situation is quite different. Here, the gas isn't involved: all the work happens on the filament, and the lamp's life decreases rapidly as the brightness increases, making it necessary for us to operate it at a low brightness for economical reasons. However, if an incandescent lamp is run with very high-frequency currents, we can’t ignore the gas's action, and the guidelines for the most efficient operation need to be significantly adjusted.

In order to bring such a lamp with one or two electrodes to a great perfection, it is necessary to employ impulses of very high frequency. The high frequency secures, among others, two chief advantages, which have a most important bearing upon the economy of the light production. First, the deterioration of the electrode is reduced by reason of the fact that we employ a great many small impacts, instead of a few violent ones, which shatter quickly the structure; secondly, the formation of a large photosphere is facilitated.

To perfect a lamp with one or two electrodes, it's essential to use very high-frequency impulses. This high frequency offers two main advantages that significantly impact the efficiency of light production. First, it lessens the wear on the electrode because we use many small impacts instead of a few intense ones that quickly damage the structure. Second, it helps create a larger photosphere.

In order to reduce the deterioration of the electrode to the minimum, it is desirable that the vibration be harmonic, for any suddenness hastens the process of destruction. An electrode lasts much longer when kept at incandescence by currents, or impulses, obtained from a high-frequency alternator, which rise and fall more or less harmonically, than by impulses obtained from a disruptive discharge coil. In the latter case there is no doubt that most of the damage is done by the fundamental sudden discharges.

To minimize the wear on the electrode, it's best for the vibration to be harmonic, as any sudden changes speed up the damage. An electrode lasts much longer when it's heated by currents or pulses from a high-frequency alternator that rise and fall somewhat harmoniously, compared to those from a disruptive discharge coil. In the latter case, it's clear that most of the harm is caused by the sudden discharges.

One of the elements of loss in such a lamp is the bombardment of the globe. As the potential is very high, the molecules are projected with great speed; they strike the glass, and usually excite a strong phosphorescence. The effect produced is very pretty, but for economical reasons it would be perhaps preferable to prevent, or at least reduce to the minimum, the bombardment against the globe, as in such case it is, as a rule, not the object to excite phosphorescence, and as some loss of energy results from the bombardment. This loss in the bulb is principally dependent on the potential of the impulses and on the electric density on the surface of the electrode. In employing very high frequencies the loss of energy by the bombardment is greatly reduced, for, first, the potential needed to perform a given amount of work is much smaller; and, secondly, by producing a highly conducting photosphere around the electrode, the same result is obtained as though the electrode were much larger, which is equivalent to a smaller electric density. But be it by the diminution of the maximum potential or of the density, the gain is effected in the same manner, namely, by avoiding violent shocks, which strain the glass much beyond its limit of elasticity. If the frequency could be brought high enough, the loss due to the imperfect elasticity of the glass would be entirely negligible. The loss due to bombardment of the globe may, however, be reduced by using two electrodes instead of one. In such case each of the electrodes may be connected to one of the terminals; or else, if it is preferable to use only one wire, one electrode may be connected to one terminal and the other to the ground or to an insulated body of some surface, as, for instance, a shade on the lamp. In the latter case, unless some judgment is used, one of the electrodes might glow more intensely than the other.

One of the issues with a lamp like this is the bombardment of the globe. Since the potential is very high, the molecules are shot out with great speed; they hit the glass, usually causing a strong phosphorescence. The effect is really nice, but for cost reasons, it would probably be better to prevent or at least minimize the bombardment against the globe, since the goal isn’t typically to create phosphorescence, and some energy is lost from the bombardment. The loss in the bulb mainly depends on the potential of the impulses and the electric density on the electrode's surface. Using very high frequencies greatly reduces energy loss from the bombardment because, first, the potential needed to do a specific amount of work is much lower; and second, by creating a highly conductive photosphere around the electrode, you achieve a result similar to having a much larger electrode, which means a lower electric density. Whether it's by decreasing the maximum potential or the density, the benefit comes in the same way, by avoiding violent shocks that stress the glass beyond its elastic limits. If the frequency could be high enough, the loss from the glass's imperfect elasticity would be completely negligible. However, the loss caused by the bombardment of the globe can also be minimized by using two electrodes instead of one. In this case, each electrode can be connected to one of the terminals; alternatively, if it's preferable to use just one wire, one electrode can connect to one terminal and the other to the ground or to an insulated object, such as the lamp's shade. In the latter case, if you're not careful, one of the electrodes might glow more brightly than the other.

But on the whole I find it preferable when using such high frequencies to employ only one electrode and one connecting wire. I am convinced that the illuminating device of the near future will not require for its operation more than one lead, and, at any rate, it will have no leading-in wire, since the energy required can be as well transmitted through the glass. In experimental bulbs the leading-in wire is most generally used on account of convenience, as in employing condenser coatings in the manner indicated in Fig. 22, for example, there is some difficulty in fitting the parts, but these difficulties would not exist if a great many bulbs were manufactured; otherwise the energy can be conveyed through the glass as well as through a wire, and with these high frequencies the losses are very small. Such illuminating devices will necessarily involve the use of very high potentials, and this, in the eyes of practical men, might be an objectionable feature. Yet, in reality, high potentials are not objectionable—certainly not in the least as far as the safety of the devices is concerned.

But overall, I find it better to use just one electrode and one connecting wire when working with such high frequencies. I'm convinced that the lighting device of the near future won't need more than one lead and, in any case, it won't have any leading-in wire since the energy needed can be transmitted through the glass. In experimental bulbs, the leading-in wire is mostly used for convenience; for example, when using condenser coatings as shown in Fig. 22, there can be some challenges in fitting the parts. However, these challenges would disappear if many bulbs were produced. Otherwise, energy can be transmitted through the glass just as well as through a wire, and with these high frequencies, the energy losses are very minimal. Such lighting devices will necessarily involve the use of very high potentials, and this might be seen as a drawback by practical people. Yet, in reality, high potentials aren't a concern—certainly not in terms of the safety of the devices.

There are two ways of rendering an electric appliance safe. One is to use low potentials, the other is to determine the dimensions of the apparatus so that it is safe no matter how high a potential is used. Of the two the latter seems to me the better way, for then the safety is absolute, unaffected by any possible combination of circumstances which might render even a low-potential appliance dangerous to life and property. But the practical conditions require not only the judicious determination of the dimensions of the apparatus; they likewise necessitate the employment of energy of the proper kind. It is easy, for instance, to construct a transformer capable of giving, when operated from an ordinary alternate current machine of low tension, say 50,000 volts, which might be required to light a highly exhausted phosphorescent tube, so that, in spite of the high potential, it is perfectly safe, the shock from it producing no inconvenience. Still, such a transformer would be expensive, and in itself inefficient; and, besides, what energy was obtained from it would not be economically used for the production of light. The economy demands the employment of energy in the form of extremely rapid vibrations. The problem of producing light has been likened to that of maintaining a certain high-pitch note by means of a bell. It should be said a barely audible note; and even these words would not express it, so wonderful is the sensitiveness of the eye. We may deliver powerful blows at long intervals, waste a good deal of energy, and still not get what we want; or we may keep up the note by delivering frequent gentle taps, and get nearer to the object sought by the expenditure of much less energy. In the production of light, as far as the illuminating device is concerned, there can be only one rule—that is, to use as high frequencies as can be obtained; but the means for the production and conveyance of impulses of such character impose, at present at least, great limitations. Once it is decided to use very high frequencies, the return wire becomes unnecessary, and all the appliances are simplified. By the use of obvious means the same result is obtained as though the return wire were used. It is sufficient for this purpose to bring in contact with the bulb, or merely in the vicinity of the same, an insulated body of some surface. The surface need, of course, be the smaller, the higher the frequency and potential used, and necessarily, also, the higher the economy of the lamp or other device.

There are two ways to make an electric appliance safe. One is to use low voltages, and the other is to design the device so it is safe no matter how high the voltage is. Of the two, the second option seems better to me because it ensures absolute safety, regardless of any possible situation that could make even a low-voltage appliance dangerous to people and property. However, practical conditions require not only careful design of the device but also the use of energy that's appropriate. For example, it’s relatively easy to build a transformer that can produce around 50,000 volts when connected to a standard low-voltage alternating current machine, which might be needed to light a highly exhausted phosphorescent tube; thus, despite the high voltage, it remains perfectly safe with no shock inconvenience. Still, such a transformer would be costly and inherently inefficient, and moreover, the energy produced wouldn’t be economically viable for generating light. There is a need to use energy in the form of extremely fast vibrations. The challenge of producing light has been compared to maintaining a specific high-pitched note with a bell. It should be noted that it’s a barely audible note; even that description falls short because the eye is incredibly sensitive. We can deliver powerful strikes at long intervals, wasting a lot of energy without getting the desired effect, or we can sustain the note by giving frequent gentle taps, getting closer to what we want while using much less energy. In terms of lighting, regarding the device used, there’s only one rule: to use the highest frequencies obtainable; however, the technology for producing and transmitting such high-frequency impulses currently has significant limitations. Once we decide to use very high frequencies, we eliminate the need for a return wire, simplifying all the devices. Through straightforward means, we can achieve the same outcome as if a return wire were employed. To do this, it’s enough to bring an insulated object into contact with or simply close to the bulb. The surface area should be smaller as the frequency and voltage increase, as well as the efficiency of the lamp or other device.

This plan of working has been resorted to on several occasions this evening. So, for instance, when the incandescence of a button was produced by grasping the bulb with the hand, the body of the experimenter merely served to intensify the action. The bulb used was similar to that illustrated in Fig. 19, and the coil was excited to a small potential, not sufficient to bring the button to incandescence when the bulb was hanging from the wire; and incidentally, in order to perform the experiment in a more suitable manner, the button was taken so large that a perceptible time had to elapse before, upon grasping the bulb, it could be rendered incandescent. The contact with the bulb was, of course, quite unnecessary. It is easy, by using a rather large bulb with an exceedingly small electrode, to adjust the conditions so that the latter is brought to bright incandescence by the mere approach of the experimenter within a few feet of the bulb, and that the incandescence subsides upon his receding.

This method has been used several times this evening. For example, when the glow of a light bulb was created by holding it in hand, the experimenter's body simply helped boost the effect. The bulb used was similar to the one shown in Fig. 19, and the coil was set to a low voltage, not enough to make the bulb glow when it was hanging from the wire. To conduct the experiment more effectively, the bulb was chosen to be large enough that it took a noticeable amount of time before, by holding it, it could glow. The contact with the bulb wasn't needed at all. It's easy to use a large bulb with a very small electrode to arrange things so that the electrode glows brightly just by having the experimenter stand a few feet away from the bulb, and the glow fades when they move further away.

In another experiment, when phosphorescence was excited, a similar bulb was used. Here again, originally, the potential was not sufficient to excite phosphorescence until the action was intensified—in this case, however, to present a different feature, by touching the socket with a metallic object held in the hand. The electrode in the bulb was a carbon button so large that it could not be brought to incandescence, and thereby spoil the effect produced by phosphorescence.

In another experiment, when phosphorescence was activated, a similar bulb was used. Again, the initial voltage wasn’t enough to trigger phosphorescence until the action was intensified—this time, though, it presented a different aspect by touching the socket with a metal object held in the hand. The electrode in the bulb was a carbon button so large that it couldn’t be heated to incandescence, which would have ruined the effect created by phosphorescence.

Again, in another of the early experiments, a bulb was used as illustrated in Fig. 12. In this instance, by touching the bulb with one or two fingers, one or two shadows of the stem inside were projected against the glass, the touch of the finger producing the same result as the application of an external negative electrode under ordinary circumstances.

Again, in another of the early experiments, a bulb was used as shown in Fig. 12. In this case, by touching the bulb with one or two fingers, one or two shadows of the stem inside were projected against the glass, with the touch of the finger creating the same effect as applying an external negative electrode in normal conditions.

In all these experiments the action was intensified by augmenting the capacity at the end of the lead connected to the terminal. As a rule, it is not necessary to resort to such means, and would be quite unnecessary with still higher frequencies; but when it is desired, the bulb, or tube, can be easily adapted to the purpose.

In all these experiments, the effect was increased by boosting the capacity at the end of the lead connected to the terminal. Generally, it's not necessary to use such methods, and it would be completely unnecessary at even higher frequencies. However, when it is desired, the bulb or tube can be easily modified for that purpose.

FIG. 24.—BULB WITHOUT LEADING-IN WIRE, SHOWING EFFECT OF PROJECTED MATTER.

 
 
 
 
 
 
In Fig. 24, for example, an experimental bulb L is shown, which is provided with a neck n on the top for the application of an external tinfoil coating, which may be connected to a body of larger surface.







In Fig. 24, for example, an experimental bulb L is shown, featuring a neck n at the top for applying an external tinfoil coating, which can be linked to a larger surface area.


 

FIG. 25.—IMPROVED EXPERIMENTAL BULB.

 
 
 
 
 
 
Such a lamp as illustrated in Fig. 25 may also be lighted by connecting the tinfoil coating on the neck n to the terminal, and the leading-in wire w to an insulated plate. If the bulb stands in a socket upright, as shown in the cut, a shade of conducting material may be slipped in the neck n, and the action thus magnified.


 
 
 
 
 
A lamp like the one shown in Fig. 25 can also be powered by connecting the tinfoil coating on the neck n to the terminal, and attaching the leading-in wire w to an insulated plate. If the bulb is positioned upright in a socket as depicted in the image, a shade made of conductive material can be inserted into the neck n, amplifying the effect.


 

FIG. 26.—IMPROVED BULB WITH INTENSIFYING REFLECTOR.

A more perfected arrangement used in some of these bulbs is illustrated in Fig. 26. In this case the construction of the bulb is as shown and described before, when reference was made to Fig. 19. A zinc sheet Z, with a tubular extension T, is slipped over the metallic socket S. The bulb hangs downward from the terminal t, the zinc sheet Z, performing the double office of intensifier and reflector. The reflector is separated from the terminal t by an extension of the insulating plug P.

A more advanced setup found in some of these bulbs is shown in Fig. 26. Here, the bulb's structure is as described earlier when looking at Fig. 19. A zinc sheet Z, with a tubular extension T, is fitted over the metallic socket S. The bulb hangs down from the terminal t, with the zinc sheet Z serving as both an intensifier and reflector. The reflector is kept apart from the terminal t by an extension of the insulating plug P.

FIG. 27.—PHOSPHORESCENT TUBE WITH INTENSIFYING REFLECTOR.

A similar disposition with a phosphorescent tube is illustrated in Fig. 27. The tube T is prepared from two short tubes of a different diameter, which are sealed on the ends. On the lower end is placed an outside conducting coating C, which connects to the wire w. The wire has a hook on the upper end for suspension, and passes through the centre of the inside tube, which is filled with some good and tightly packed insulator. On the outside of the upper end of the tube T is another conducting coating C1 upon which is slipped a metallic reflector Z, which should be separated by a thick insulation from the end of wire w.

A similar setup with a phosphorescent tube is shown in Fig. 27. The tube T is made from two short tubes of different diameters, which are sealed at both ends. An external conducting coating C is placed on the lower end, connecting to the wire w. The wire has a hook at the upper end for hanging and goes through the center of the inside tube, which is filled with a good, tightly packed insulator. On the outside of the upper end of tube T, there is another conducting coating C1, onto which a metallic reflector Z is attached, ensuring that it is separated by a thick layer of insulation from the end of wire w.

The economical use of such a reflector or intensifier would require that all energy supplied to an air condenser should be recoverable, or, in other words, that there should not be any losses, neither in the gaseous medium nor through its action elsewhere. This is far from being so, but, fortunately, the losses may be reduced to anything desired. A few remarks are necessary on this subject, in order to make the experiences gathered in the course of these investigations perfectly clear.

The efficient use of such a reflector or intensifier would mean that all the energy provided to an air condenser should be recoverable, or in other words, there shouldn't be any losses, either in the gaseous medium or through its effects elsewhere. This is not the case, but luckily, the losses can be minimized to any extent desired. A few comments are needed on this topic to make the insights gained from these investigations completely clear.

Suppose a small helix with many well insulated turns, as in experiment Fig. 17, has one of its ends connected to one of the terminals of the induction coil, and the other to a metal plate, or, for the sake of simplicity, a sphere, insulated in space. When the coil is set to work, the potential of the sphere is alternated, and the small helix now behaves as though its free end were connected to the other terminal of the induction coil. If an iron rod be held within the small helix it is quickly brought to a high temperature, indicating the passage of a strong current through the helix. How does the insulated sphere act in this case? It can be a condenser, storing and returning the energy supplied to it, or it can be a mere sink of energy, and the conditions of the experiment determine whether it is more one or the other. The sphere being charged to a high potential, it acts inductively upon the surrounding air, or whatever gaseous medium there might be. The molecules, or atoms, which are near the sphere are of course more attracted, and move through a greater distance than the farther ones. When the nearest molecules strike the sphere they are repelled, and collisions occur at all distances within the inductive action of the sphere. It is now clear that, if the potential be steady, but little loss of energy can be caused in this way, for the molecules which are nearest to the sphere, having had an additional charge imparted to them by contact, are not attracted until they have parted, if not with all, at least with most of the additional charge, which can be accomplished only after a great many collisions. From the fact that with a steady potential there is but little loss in dry air, one must come to such a conclusion. When the potential of the sphere, instead of being steady, is alternating, the conditions are entirely different. In this case a rhythmical bombardment occurs, no matter whether the molecules after coming in contact with the sphere lose the imparted charge or not; what is more, if the charge is not lost, the impacts are only the more violent. Still if the frequency of the impulses be very small, the loss caused by the impacts and collisions would not be serious unless the potential were excessive. But when extremely high frequencies and more or less high potentials are used, the loss may be very great. The total energy lost per unit of time is proportionate to the product of the number of impacts per second, or the frequency and the energy lost in each impact. But the energy of an impact must be proportionate to the square of the electric density of the sphere, since the charge imparted to the molecule is proportionate to that density. I conclude from this that the total energy lost must be proportionate to the product of the frequency and the square of the electric density; but this law needs experimental confirmation. Assuming the preceding considerations to be true, then, by rapidly alternating the potential of a body immersed in an insulating gaseous medium, any amount of energy may be dissipated into space. Most of that energy then, I believe, is not dissipated in the form of long ether waves, propagated to considerable distance, as is thought most generally, but is consumed—in the case of an insulated sphere, for example—in impact and collisional losses—that is, heat vibrations—on the surface and in the vicinity of the sphere. To reduce the dissipation it is necessary to work with a small electric density—the smaller the higher the frequency.

Suppose a small helix with many well-insulated turns, as shown in experiment Fig. 17, has one end connected to one terminal of the induction coil and the other end connected to a metal plate or, for simplicity, a sphere that is insulated in space. When the coil is activated, the sphere’s potential alternates, and the small helix behaves as if its free end is connected to the other terminal of the induction coil. If an iron rod is placed inside the small helix, it quickly heats up, indicating that a strong current is flowing through the helix. How does the insulated sphere respond in this scenario? It can act as a condenser, storing and returning the energy supplied to it, or it can simply be an energy sink, with the conditions of the experiment determining if it’s more one than the other. When the sphere is charged to a high potential, it inductively affects the surrounding air or any gaseous medium. The molecules or atoms near the sphere are, of course, more attracted and move a greater distance than those farther away. When the nearest molecules hit the sphere, they are repelled, resulting in collisions occurring at all distances within the sphere's inductive effect. It’s clear that if the potential remains steady, there is very little energy loss this way, as the molecules nearest to the sphere, having gained additional charge from contact, aren't attracted until they have lost, if not all, then most of their extra charge, which can only happen after many collisions. The fact that there’s minimal energy loss in dry air with a steady potential leads to this conclusion. However, when the potential of the sphere alternates instead of being steady, the conditions change entirely. In this case, a rhythmic bombardment occurs, regardless of whether the molecules lose the charge after contacting the sphere; furthermore, if the charge isn’t lost, the impacts are even more forceful. If the impulse frequency is very low, the loss from impacts and collisions isn’t significant unless the potential is unusually high. But when extremely high frequencies and somewhat high potentials are involved, the loss can be substantial. The total energy lost per unit of time is proportional to the frequency (the number of impacts per second) and the energy lost in each impact. The energy of an impact should be proportional to the square of the electric density of the sphere, since the charge transferred to the molecule depends on that density. I conclude that total energy loss must relate to the product of frequency and the square of electric density, though this law needs experimental verification. Assuming the earlier considerations are correct, then by rapidly alternating the potential of an object in an insulating gaseous medium, any amount of energy can be released into space. I believe most of that energy isn’t dissipated as long ether waves propagating over distances, as is commonly believed, but rather consumed—such as with an insulated sphere—through impact and collision losses, meaning heat vibrations, on its surface and in the surrounding area. To minimize dissipation, it’s necessary to work with a low electric density—the lower the density, the higher the frequency.

But since, on the assumption before made, the loss is diminished with the square of the density, and since currents of very high frequencies involve considerable waste when transmitted through conductors, it follows that, on the whole, it is better to employ one wire than two. Therefore, if motors, lamps, or devices of any kind are perfected, capable of being advantageously operated by currents of extremely high frequency, economical reasons will make it advisable to use only one wire, especially if the distances are great.

But since, based on the previous assumption, the loss decreases with the square of the density, and since very high frequency currents waste a lot of energy when transmitted through conductors, it makes sense that it's generally better to use one wire instead of two. So, if motors, lamps, or any devices are developed that can be effectively operated by extremely high frequency currents, it will be more economical to use just one wire, especially over long distances.

When energy is absorbed in a condenser the same behaves as though its capacity were increased. Absorption always exists more or less, but generally it is small and of no consequence as long as the frequencies are not very great. In using extremely high frequencies, and, necessarily in such case, also high potentials, the absorption—or, what is here meant more particularly by this term, the loss of energy due to the presence of a gaseous medium—is an important factor to be considered, as the energy absorbed in the air condenser may be any fraction of the supplied energy. This would seem to make it very difficult to tell from the measured or computed capacity of an air condenser its actual capacity or vibration period, especially if the condenser is of very small surface and is charged to a very high potential. As many important results are dependent upon the correctness of the estimation of the vibration period, this subject demands the most careful scrutiny of other investigators. To reduce the probable error as much as possible in experiments of the kind alluded to, it is advisable to use spheres or plates of large surface, so as to make the density exceedingly small. Otherwise, when it is practicable, an oil condenser should be used in preference. In oil or other liquid dielectrics there are seemingly no such losses as in gaseous media. It being impossible to exclude entirely the gas in condensers with solid dielectrics, such condensers should be immersed in oil, for economical reasons if nothing else; they can then be strained to the utmost and will remain cool. In Leyden jars the loss due to air is comparatively small, as the tinfoil coatings are large, close together, and the charged surfaces not directly exposed; but when the potentials are very high, the loss may be more or less considerable at, or near, the upper edge of the foil, where the air is principally acted upon. If the jar be immersed in boiled-out oil, it will be capable of performing four times the amount of work which it can for any length of time when used in the ordinary way, and the loss will be inappreciable.

When energy is absorbed in a condenser, it acts as if its capacity has increased. Absorption always occurs to some extent, but it's usually minor and insignificant as long as the frequencies aren't too high. When using extremely high frequencies, which also involve high potentials, absorption—specifically the loss of energy due to the presence of a gas—is an important factor to consider, since the energy absorbed in the air condenser can be a significant fraction of the supplied energy. This can make it tricky to determine the actual capacity or vibration period of an air condenser based on its measured or calculated capacity, particularly if the condenser has a very small surface area and is charged to a high potential. Many important results depend on how accurately we can estimate the vibration period, so this issue requires careful examination by other researchers. To minimize potential errors in these types of experiments, it's better to use spheres or plates with a large surface area to keep the density very low. Otherwise, when possible, it's preferable to use an oil condenser. In oil or other liquid dielectrics, there don't seem to be the same losses as with gaseous media. Since it's impossible to completely eliminate gas in condensers with solid dielectrics, these condensers should be immersed in oil, if for economic reasons alone; this allows them to be pushed to their limits while staying cool. In Leyden jars, the loss due to air is relatively small, because the tinfoil coatings are large, close together, and the charged surfaces aren't directly exposed; however, at very high potentials, the loss may be considerable near the top edge of the foil where the air is mostly affected. If the jar is immersed in boiled oil, it can perform four times the amount of work it would in normal conditions, with minimal loss.

It should not be thought that the loss in heat in an air condenser is necessarily associated with the formation of visible streams or brushes. If a small electrode, inclosed in an unexhausted bulb, is connected to one of the terminals of the coil, streams can be seen to issue from the electrode and the air in the bulb is heated; if, instead of a small electrode, a large sphere is inclosed in the bulb, no streams are observed, still the air is heated.

It shouldn’t be assumed that heat loss in an air condenser is always linked to the appearance of visible streams or brushes. When a small electrode, enclosed in a full bulb, is connected to one of the coil's terminals, streams can be seen coming from the electrode and the air inside the bulb gets heated. However, if a large sphere is enclosed in the bulb instead of a small electrode, no streams are visible, yet the air still heats up.

Nor should it be thought that the temperature of an air condenser would give even an approximate idea of the loss in heat incurred, as in such case heat must be given off much more quickly, since there is, in addition to the ordinary radiation, a very active carrying away of heat by independent carriers going on, and since not only the apparatus, but the air at some distance from it is heated in consequence of the collisions which must occur.

Nor should we assume that the temperature of an air condenser provides even a rough estimate of the heat loss, because heat must dissipate much more rapidly in this case. In addition to normal radiation, there’s also a significant transfer of heat by other means happening, and not just the equipment, but the air some distance away is also heated due to the collisions that take place.

Owing to this, in experiments with such a coil, a rise of temperature can be distinctly observed only when the body connected to the coil is very small. But with apparatus on a larger scale, even a body of considerable bulk would be heated, as, for instance, the body of a person; and I think that skilled physicians might make observations of utility in such experiments, which, if the apparatus were judiciously designed, would not present the slightest danger.

Due to this, in experiments with such a coil, a temperature increase can only be clearly observed when the body connected to the coil is very small. However, with larger apparatus, even a body of considerable size, like a person, would get heated. I believe that skilled physicians could make useful observations in such experiments, which, if the apparatus were carefully designed, would pose no danger at all.

A question of some interest, principally to meteorologists, presents itself here. How does the earth behave? The earth is an air condenser, but is it a perfect or a very imperfect one—a mere sink of energy? There can be little doubt that to such small disturbance as might be caused in an experiment the earth behaves as an almost perfect condenser. But it might be different when its charge is set in vibration by some sudden disturbance occurring in the heavens. In such case, as before stated, probably only little of the energy of the vibrations set up would be lost into space in the form of long ether radiations, but most of the energy, I think, would spend itself in molecular impacts and collisions, and pass off into space in the form of short heat, and possibly light, waves. As both the frequency of the vibrations of the charge and the potential are in all probability excessive, the energy converted into heat may be considerable. Since the density must be unevenly distributed, either in consequence of the irregularity of the earth's surface, or on account of the condition of the atmosphere in various places, the effect produced would accordingly vary from place to place. Considerable variations in the temperature and pressure of the atmosphere may in this manner be caused at any point of the surface of the earth. The variations may be gradual or very sudden, according to the nature of the general disturbance, and may produce rain and storms, or locally modify the weather in any way.

A question arises that is particularly interesting to meteorologists: How does the Earth behave? The Earth acts like an air condenser, but is it a perfect one or a very imperfect one—a simple sink of energy? There’s no doubt that when faced with small disturbances, such as those in a controlled experiment, the Earth behaves like an almost perfect condenser. However, it might react differently if its charge is disturbed by a sudden event in the atmosphere. In that case, as mentioned earlier, only a small amount of the energy from the vibrations would likely escape into space as long ether radiations, but most of it would likely manifest through molecular impacts and collisions, releasing energy into space as short heat and possibly light waves. Since both the frequency of the charge's vibrations and the potential likely exceed normal levels, the energy converted to heat could be significant. Because the density is unevenly distributed due to the irregularity of the Earth's surface or varying atmospheric conditions, the effects would vary from one location to another. This could lead to substantial variations in temperature and pressure in the atmosphere at different points on the Earth’s surface. These variations can occur gradually or very suddenly, depending on the nature of the disturbance, potentially causing rain and storms or altering local weather in various ways.

From the remarks before made one may see what an important factor of loss the air in the neighborhood of a charged surface becomes when the electric density is great and the frequency of the impulses excessive. But the action as explained implies that the air is insulating—that is, that it is composed of independent carriers immersed in an insulating medium. This is the case only when the air is at something like ordinary or greater, or at extremely small, pressure. When the air is slightly rarefied and conducting, then true conduction losses occur also. In such case, of course, considerable energy may be dissipated into space even with a steady potential, or with impulses of low frequency, if the density is very great.

From the earlier comments, you can see how much of a loss factor the air around a charged surface becomes when the electric density is high and the frequency of the impulses is excessive. However, this explanation suggests that the air acts as an insulator—meaning it consists of independent carriers suspended in an insulating medium. This situation only holds true when the air is at about normal pressure or higher, or at extremely low pressure. When the air is slightly thinner and conducting, true conduction losses can also happen. In that case, a significant amount of energy can be dissipated into space even with a steady potential or with low-frequency impulses if the density is very high.

When the gas is at very low pressure, an electrode is heated more because higher speeds can be reached. If the gas around the electrode is strongly compressed, the displacements, and consequently the speeds, are very small, and the heating is insignificant. But if in such case the frequency could be sufficiently increased, the electrode would be brought to a high temperature as well as if the gas were at very low pressure; in fact, exhausting the bulb is only necessary because we cannot produce (and possibly not convey) currents of the required frequency.

When the gas is at very low pressure, an electrode heats up more because higher speeds can be achieved. If the gas around the electrode is highly compressed, the displacements, and therefore the speeds, are very small, resulting in minimal heating. However, if in such a case the frequency could be significantly increased, the electrode would reach a high temperature just like it would at very low pressure; in fact, pulling a vacuum on the bulb is only necessary because we can't generate (and possibly not transmit) the currents of the needed frequency.

Returning to the subject of electrode lamps, it is obviously of advantage in such a lamp to confine as much as possible the heat to the electrode by preventing the circulation of the gas in the bulb. If a very small bulb be taken, it would confine the heat better than a large one, but it might not be of sufficient capacity to be operated from the coil, or, if so, the glass might get too hot. A simple way to improve in this direction is to employ a globe of the required size, but to place a small bulb, the diameter of which is properly estimated, over the refractory button contained in the globe. This arrangement is illustrated in Fig. 28.

Returning to the topic of electrode lamps, it's clear that it's beneficial to keep as much heat as possible focused on the electrode by limiting the gas circulation inside the bulb. If a very small bulb is used, it would retain heat better than a larger one, but it might not have enough capacity to be powered by the coil, or, if it does, the glass could overheat. A straightforward way to enhance this is to use a globe of the needed size but to fit a small bulb, sized correctly, over the refractory button inside the globe. This setup is shown in Fig. 28.

FIG. 28.—LAMP WITH AUXILIARY BULB FOR CONFINING THE ACTION TO THE CENTRE.

The globe L has in this case a large neck n, allowing the small bulb b to slip through. Otherwise the construction is the same as shown in Fig. 18, for example. The small bulb is conveniently supported upon the stem s, carrying the refractory button m. It is separated from the aluminium tube a by several layers of mica M, in order to prevent the cracking of the neck by the rapid heating of the aluminium tube upon a sudden turning on of the current. The inside bulb should be as small as possible when it is desired to obtain light only by incandescence of the electrode. If it is desired to produce phosphorescence, the bulb should be larger, else it would be apt to get too hot, and the phosphorescence would cease. In this arrangement usually only the small bulb shows phosphorescence, as there is practically no bombardment against the outer globe. In some of these bulbs constructed as illustrated in Fig. 28 the small tube was coated with phosphorescent paint, and beautiful effects were obtained. Instead of making the inside bulb large, in order to avoid undue heating, it answers the purpose to make the electrode m larger. In this case the bombardment is weakened by reason of the smaller electric density.

The globe L has a large neck n that lets the small bulb b slip through. Otherwise, the design is the same as shown in Fig. 18, for example. The small bulb is conveniently supported on the stem s, which holds the refractory button m. It is separated from the aluminum tube a by several layers of mica M to prevent the neck from cracking due to the rapid heating of the aluminum tube when the current is turned on suddenly. The inside bulb should be as small as possible if the goal is to produce light only through the incandescence of the electrode. If phosphorescence is desired, the bulb should be larger; otherwise, it may get too hot, causing the phosphorescence to stop. In this setup, typically only the small bulb shows phosphorescence since there is almost no bombardment against the outer globe. For some of these bulbs made as shown in Fig. 28, the small tube was coated with phosphorescent paint, producing beautiful effects. Instead of making the inside bulb larger to avoid overheating, it is effective to make the electrode m larger. In this case, the bombardment is reduced due to the lower electric density.


 

FIG. 29.—LAMP WITH INDEPENDENT AUXILIARY BULB.

Many bulbs were constructed on the plan illustrated in Fig. 29. Here a small bulb b, containing the refractory button m, upon being exhausted to a very high degree was sealed in a large globe L, which was then moderately exhausted and sealed off. The principal advantage of this construction was that it allowed of reaching extremely high vacua, and, at the same time use a large bulb. It was found, in the course of experiences with bulbs such as illustrated in Fig. 29, that it was well to make the stem s near the seal at e very thick, and the leading-in wire w thin, as it occurred sometimes that the stem at e was heated and the bulb was cracked. Often the outer globe L was exhausted only just enough to allow the discharge to pass through, and the space between the bulbs appeared crimson, producing a curious effect. In some cases, when the exhaustion in globe L was very low, and the air good conducting, it was found necessary, in order to bring the button m to high incandescence, to place, preferably on the upper part of the neck of the globe, a tinfoil coating which was connected to an insulated body, to the ground, or to the other terminal of the coil, as the highly conducting air weakened the effect somewhat, probably by being acted upon inductively from the wire w, where it entered the bulb at e. Another difficulty—which, however, is always present when the refractory button is mounted in a very small bulb—existed in the construction illustrated in Fig. 29, namely, the vacuum in the bulb b would be impaired in a comparatively short time.

Many bulbs were created based on the design shown in Fig. 29. In this design, a small bulb b containing the refractory button m was sealed inside a larger globe L after being evacuated to a very high degree. The larger globe was then moderately evacuated and sealed off. The main benefit of this design was that it enabled the achievement of extremely high vacuums while using a large bulb. During experiments with bulbs like the one in Fig. 29, it became clear that it was better to make the stem s near the seal at e very thick and the leading wire w thin, as the stem at e sometimes got hot and caused the bulb to crack. Often, the outer globe L was only exhausted enough to let the discharge pass through, creating a crimson glow in the space between the bulbs, which looked interesting. In some instances, when the vacuum in globe L was low and the air was a good conductor, it was necessary to cover the upper part of the globe's neck with a tinfoil coating connected to an insulated body, to ground, or to the other terminal of the coil. This was because the highly conductive air reduced the effectiveness somewhat, likely due to being influenced inductively by the wire w at the entry point in the bulb at e. Another challenge, which is always present when the refractory button is fitted into a very small bulb, was also noted in the construction shown in Fig. 29: the vacuum in the bulb b would deteriorate relatively quickly.


The chief idea in the two last described constructions was to confine the heat to the central portion of the globe by preventing the exchange of air. An advantage is secured, but owing to the heating of the inside bulb and slow evaporation of the glass the vacuum is hard to maintain, even if the construction illustrated in Fig. 28 be chosen, in which both bulbs communicate.

The main idea in the last two described designs was to keep the heat focused in the central part of the globe by stopping the air from circulating. This has its benefits, but because of the heating of the inner bulb and the slow evaporation of the glass, it's difficult to maintain the vacuum, even with the design shown in Fig. 28, where both bulbs are connected.

But by far the better way—the ideal way—would be to reach sufficiently high frequencies. The higher the frequency the slower would be the exchange of the air, and I think that a frequency may be reached at which there would be no exchange whatever of the air molecules around the terminal. We would then produce a flame in which there would be no carrying away of material, and a queer flame it would be, for it would be rigid! With such high frequencies the inertia of the particles would come into play. As the brush, or flame, would gain rigidity in virtue of the inertia of the particles, the exchange of the latter would be prevented. This would necessarily occur, for, the number of the impulses being augmented, the potential energy of each would diminish, so that finally only atomic vibrations could be set up, and the motion of translation through measurable space would cease. Thus an ordinary gas burner connected to a source of rapidly alternating potential might have its efficiency augmented to a certain limit, and this for two reasons—because of the additional vibration imparted, and because of a slowing down of the process of carrying off. But the renewal being rendered difficult, and renewal being necessary to maintain the burner, a continued increase of the frequency of the impulses, assuming they could be transmitted to and impressed upon the flame, would result in the "extinction" of the latter, meaning by this term only the cessation of the chemical process.

But the best way—the ideal way—would be to achieve sufficiently high frequencies. As the frequency increases, the air exchange would slow down, and I believe there’s a frequency where there would be no exchange of air molecules around the terminal at all. This would create a flame with no material being carried away, and it would be a strange flame—because it would be rigid! With these high frequencies, the inertia of the particles would come into play. As the brush or flame becomes rigid due to the inertia of the particles, the exchange of those particles would stop. This would need to happen because as the number of impulses increases, the potential energy of each would decrease, until only atomic vibrations could be created, and the motion of translation through measurable space would stop. Therefore, an ordinary gas burner connected to a source of rapidly alternating potential could have its efficiency increased up to a point, for two reasons—because of the extra vibration added and because of a slowdown in the process of material being carried away. However, because renewal would be difficult and renewal is needed to keep the burner working, a continued rise in the frequency of the impulses, assuming they could be transmitted to and applied to the flame, would lead to the "extinction" of the flame, which here means only the stopping of the chemical process.

I think, however, that in the case of an electrode immersed in a fluid insulating medium, and surrounded by independent carriers of electric charges, which can be acted upon inductively, a sufficiently high frequency of the impulses would probably result in a gravitation of the gas all around toward the electrode. For this it would be only necessary to assume that the independent bodies are irregularly shaped; they would then turn toward the electrode their side of the greatest electric density, and this would be a position in which the fluid resistance to approach would be smaller than that offered to the receding.

I think that if you have an electrode immersed in a fluid insulating medium and surrounded by independent electric charge carriers that can be influenced inductively, a high enough frequency of impulses would likely cause the gas around it to move toward the electrode. To support this idea, you just need to assume that the independent bodies are irregularly shaped; they would then turn their side with the highest electric density toward the electrode, creating a situation where the resistance to moving closer is less than the resistance to moving away.

The general opinion, I do not doubt, is that it is out of the question to reach any such frequencies as might—assuming some of the views before expressed to be true—produce any of the results which I have pointed out as mere possibilities. This may be so, but in the course of these investigations, from the observation of many phenomena I have gained the conviction that these frequencies would be much lower than one is apt to estimate at first. In a flame we set up light vibrations by causing molecules, or atoms, to collide. But what is the ratio of the frequency of the collisions and that of the vibrations set up? Certainly it must be incomparably smaller than that of the knocks of the bell and the sound vibrations, or that of the discharges and the oscillations of the condenser. We may cause the molecules of the gas to collide by the use of alternate electric impulses of high frequency, and so we may imitate the process in a flame; and from experiments with frequencies which we are now able to obtain, I think that the result is producible with impulses which are transmissible through a conductor.

The general opinion, I’m sure, is that it's impossible to reach any frequencies that could—if some of the previously mentioned ideas are correct—produce any of the outcomes I've pointed out as mere possibilities. This might be true, but during these investigations, through observing many phenomena, I've come to believe that these frequencies would be much lower than one might initially think. In a flame, we create light vibrations by causing molecules, or atoms, to collide. But what is the ratio of the frequency of these collisions to that of the vibrations created? It must certainly be much smaller than that of the bell's strikes to the sound vibrations, or that of the discharges to the oscillations of the condenser. We can make the gas molecules collide using alternating electric impulses of high frequency, thus allowing us to mimic the flame process; and based on experiments with frequencies we can now achieve, I believe the result can be produced with impulses that can travel through a conductor.

In connection with thoughts of a similar nature, it appeared to me of great interest to demonstrate the rigidity of a vibrating gaseous column. Although with such low frequencies as, say 10,000 per second, which I was able to obtain without difficulty from a specially constructed alternator, the task looked discouraging at first, I made a series of experiments. The trials with air at ordinary pressure led to no result, but with air moderately rarefied I obtain what I think to be an unmistakable experimental evidence of the property sought for. As a result of this kind might lead able investigators to conclusions of importance I will describe one of the experiments performed.

In connection with similar thoughts, I found it really interesting to showcase the rigidity of a vibrating gas column. Although working with low frequencies, like 10,000 per second, which I was able to get fairly easily from a specially made alternator, seemed discouraging at first, I decided to run a series of experiments. The tests with air at normal pressure didn’t yield any results, but when I used slightly rarified air, I obtained what I believe to be clear experimental evidence of the property I was looking for. Since this kind of result could lead inquisitive researchers to significant conclusions, I will describe one of the experiments I conducted.

It is well known that when a tube is slightly exhausted the discharge may be passed through it in the form of a thin luminous thread. When produced with currents of low frequency, obtained from a coil operated as usual, this thread is inert. If a magnet be approached to it, the part near the same is attracted or repelled, according to the direction of the lines of force of the magnet. It occurred to me that if such a thread would be produced with currents of very high frequency, it should be more or less rigid, and as it was visible it could be easily studied. Accordingly I prepared a tube about 1 inch in diameter and 1 metre long, with outside coating at each end. The tube was exhausted to a point at which by a little working the thread discharge could be obtained. It must be remarked here that the general aspect of the tube, and the degree of exhaustion, are quite different than when ordinary low frequency currents are used. As it was found preferable to work with one terminal, the tube prepared was suspended from the end of a wire connected to the terminal, the tinfoil coating being connected to the wire, and to the lower coating sometimes a small insulated plate was attached. When the thread was formed it extended through the upper part of the tube and lost itself in the lower end. If it possessed rigidity it resembled, not exactly an elastic cord stretched tight between two supports, but a cord suspended from a height with a small weight attached at the end. When the finger or a magnet was approached to the upper end of the luminous thread, it could be brought locally out of position by electrostatic or magnetic action; and when the disturbing object was very quickly removed, an analogous result was produced, as though a suspended cord would be displaced and quickly released near the point of suspension. In doing this the luminous thread was set in vibration, and two very sharply marked nodes, and a third indistinct one, were formed. The vibration, once set up, continued for fully eight minutes, dying gradually out. The speed of the vibration often varied perceptibly, and it could be observed that the electrostatic attraction of the glass affected the vibrating thread; but it was clear that the electrostatic action was not the cause of the vibration, for the thread was most generally stationary, and could always be set in vibration by passing the finger quickly near the upper part of the tube. With a magnet the thread could be split in two and both parts vibrated. By approaching the hand to the lower coating of the tube, or insulated plate if attached, the vibration was quickened; also, as far as I could see, by raising the potential or frequency. Thus, either increasing the frequency or passing a stronger discharge of the same frequency corresponded to a tightening of the cord. I did not obtain any experimental evidence with condenser discharges. A luminous band excited in a bulb by repeated discharges of a Leyden jar must possess rigidity, and if deformed and suddenly released should vibrate. But probably the amount of vibrating matter is so small that in spite of the extreme speed the inertia cannot prominently assert itself. Besides, the observation in such a case is rendered extremely difficult on account of the fundamental vibration.

It’s well known that when a tube is slightly evacuated, the discharge can be seen as a thin, bright thread. When created with low-frequency currents from a standard coil, this thread is stable. If a magnet is brought close to it, the section near the magnet is either attracted or repelled, depending on the magnet’s magnetic field direction. I thought that if such a thread were created with very high-frequency currents, it should be somewhat rigid, and since it’s visible, it could be easily studied. So, I prepared a tube about 1 inch in diameter and 1 meter long, with an outer coating at each end. The tube was exhausted to a point where, with a little effort, the thread discharge could be obtained. It’s important to note that the overall appearance of the tube and the level of evacuation are quite different from when ordinary low-frequency currents are used. Since it was found better to work with one terminal, the prepared tube was suspended from a wire connected to the terminal, with the tinfoil coating connected to the wire, and sometimes a small insulated plate was attached to the lower coating. When the thread formed, it extended through the upper part of the tube and disappeared into the lower end. If it had rigidity, it resembled not exactly a tight elastic cord between two supports, but rather a cord hanging down with a small weight at the end. When a finger or magnet was brought close to the upper end of the luminous thread, it could be locally displaced by electrostatic or magnetic action; and when the disturbing object was quickly removed, a similar result occurred, as if a hanging cord had been nudged and then quickly released near its point of suspension. By doing this, the luminous thread vibrated, creating two clearly marked nodes, and a third one that was less distinct. Once initiated, the vibration lasted for about eight minutes, gradually fading away. The speed of the vibration often changed noticeably, and it was observed that the electrostatic attraction of the glass influenced the vibrating thread; however, it was clear that the electrostatic action was not the reason for the vibration, since the thread was generally stationary and could be set into vibration by quickly passing a finger near the upper part of the tube. With a magnet, the thread could be split in two, and both parts would vibrate. Bringing a hand close to the lower coating of the tube, or to the insulated plate if it was attached, quickened the vibration; likewise, from what I could see, raising the potential or frequency had the same effect. Thus, either increasing the frequency or delivering a stronger discharge of the same frequency made it feel like the cord was being tightened. I didn’t acquire any experimental evidence with capacitor discharges. A luminous band created in a bulb by repeated discharges of a Leyden jar must have rigidity, and if deformed and then suddenly released, it should vibrate. But probably the amount of vibrating matter is so small that despite the extreme speed, the inertia cannot be significant. Additionally, observing such a case is very difficult due to the fundamental vibration.

The demonstration of the fact—which still needs better experimental confirmation—that a vibrating gaseous column possesses rigidity, might greatly modify the views of thinkers. When with low frequencies and insignificant potentials indications of that property may be noted, how must a gaseous medium behave under the influence of enormous electrostatic stresses which may be active in the interstellar space, and which may alternate with inconceivable rapidity? The existence of such an electrostatic, rhythmically throbbing force—of a vibrating electrostatic field—would show a possible way how solids might have formed from the ultra-gaseous uterus, and how transverse and all kinds of vibrations may be transmitted through a gaseous medium filling all space. Then, ether might be a true fluid, devoid of rigidity, and at rest, it being merely necessary as a connecting link to enable interaction. What determines the rigidity of a body? It must be the speed and the amount of moving matter. In a gas the speed may be considerable, but the density is exceedingly small; in a liquid the speed would be likely to be small, though the density may be considerable; and in both cases the inertia resistance offered to displacement is practically nil. But place a gaseous (or liquid) column in an intense, rapidly alternating electrostatic field, set the particles vibrating with enormous speeds, then the inertia resistance asserts itself. A body might move with more or less freedom through the vibrating mass, but as a whole it would be rigid.

The demonstration of the fact—which still needs better experimental confirmation—that a vibrating gas column has rigidity might significantly change the perspectives of thinkers. When low frequencies and mild potentials show signs of that property, how would a gas behave under the influence of massive electrostatic stresses, such as those in interstellar space, that can change rapidly? The existence of such an electrostatic, rhythmically pulsing force—a vibrating electrostatic field—could indicate a possible way that solids might have formed from the ultra-gaseous origin, and how transverse and all kinds of vibrations can be transmitted through a gas filling all of space. Then, ether might be a true fluid, lacking rigidity, and at rest, serving merely as a connecting link for interaction. What determines a body's rigidity? It has to do with the speed and amount of moving matter. In a gas, the speed can be high, but the density is extremely low; in a liquid, the speed may be lower, even though the density can be high; and in both cases, the inertia resistance to displacement is practically nil. But if you place a gas (or liquid) column in a strong, rapidly changing electrostatic field and set the particles vibrating at enormous speeds, then the inertia resistance becomes significant. A body might move freely through the vibrating mass, but as a whole, it would be rigid.

There is a subject which I must mention in connection with these experiments: it is that of high vacua. This is a subject the study of which is not only interesting, but useful, for it may lead to results of great practical importance. In commercial apparatus, such as incandescent lamps, operated from ordinary systems of distribution, a much higher vacuum than obtained at present would not secure a very great advantage. In such a case the work is performed on the filament and the gas is little concerned; the improvement, therefore, would be but trifling. But when we begin to use very high frequencies and potentials, the action of the gas becomes all important, and the degree of exhaustion materially modifies the results. As long as ordinary coils, even very large ones, were used, the study of the subject was limited, because just at a point when it became most interesting it had to be interrupted on account of the "non-striking" vacuum being reached. But presently we are able to obtain from a small disruptive discharge coil potentials much higher than even the largest coil was capable of giving, and, what is more, we can make the potential alternate with great rapidity. Both of these results enable us now to pass a luminous discharge through almost any vacua obtainable, and the field of our investigations is greatly extended. Think we as we may, of all the possible directions to develop a practical illuminant, the line of high vacua seems to be the most promising at present. But to reach extreme vacua the appliances must be much more improved, and ultimate perfection will not be attained until we shall have discarded the mechanical and perfected an electrical vacuum pump. Molecules and atoms can be thrown out of a bulb under the action of an enormous potential: this will be the principle of the vacuum pump of the future. For the present, we must secure the best results we can with mechanical appliances. In this respect, it might not be out of the way to say a few words about the method of, and apparatus for, producing excessively high degrees of exhaustion of which I have availed myself in the course of these investigations. It is very probable that other experimenters have used similar arrangements; but as it is possible that there may be an item of interest in their description, a few remarks, which will render this investigation more complete, might be permitted.

There’s a topic I need to bring up in relation to these experiments: high vacuums. This subject is not just interesting but also useful, as it could lead to results that are practically significant. In commercial devices like incandescent bulbs that are powered by regular distribution systems, having a much higher vacuum than what we currently get wouldn't offer a significant advantage. In those cases, the work happens on the filament, and the gas plays a minor role; so the improvements would be minimal. However, when we start using very high frequencies and potentials, the role of the gas becomes crucial, and the level of vacuum greatly affects the outcomes. As long as we used ordinary coils, even large ones, the study of this topic was limited, because it had to be paused just as it became most interesting once we reached the "non-striking" vacuum. Now, we can obtain much higher potentials from a small disruptive discharge coil than even the biggest coil could produce, and we can make the potential alternate quickly. Both of these advancements now allow us to create a luminous discharge through almost any vacuum we can achieve, significantly broadening our area of research. No matter how we think about the potential directions to develop a practical light source, the area of high vacuums currently looks the most promising. However, to achieve very high vacuums, the tools will need substantial improvements, and we won’t reach optimal performance until we replace mechanical methods with an electrical vacuum pump. Molecules and atoms can be expelled from a bulb using immense potential: this will be the key principle for future vacuum pumps. For now, we have to make the most of mechanical tools to achieve the best results we can. In this context, it might be worth discussing the methods and equipment I used to create extremely high levels of vacuum during these experiments. Other researchers probably have similar setups, but since there might be something of interest in their details, I’ll share a few observations to make this investigation more comprehensive.

FIG. 30.—APPARATUS USED FOR OBTAINING HIGH DEGREES OF EXHAUSTION.

The apparatus is illustrated in a drawing shown in Fig. 30. S represents a Sprengel pump, which has been specially constructed to better suit the work required. The stop-cock which is usually employed has been omitted, and instead of it a hollow stopper s has been fitted in the neck of the reservoir R. This stopper has a small hole h, through which the mercury descends; the size of the outlet o being properly determined with respect to the section of the fall tube t, which is sealed to the reservoir instead of being connected to it in the usual manner. This arrangement overcomes the imperfections and troubles which often arise from the use of the stopcock on the reservoir and the connection of the latter with the fall tube.

The device is shown in a drawing in Fig. 30. S represents a Sprengel pump, specially designed for the required task. The usual stop-cock has been removed, and instead, a hollow stopper s has been placed in the neck of the reservoir R. This stopper has a small hole h for the mercury to flow down; the size of the outlet o has been carefully adjusted in relation to the diameter of the fall tube t, which is sealed to the reservoir instead of being attached in the usual way. This setup addresses the issues and problems that often come up from using a stopcock on the reservoir and connecting it to the fall tube.

The pump is connected through a U-shaped tube t to a very large reservoir R1. Especial care was taken in fitting the grinding surfaces of the stoppers p and p1, and both of these and the mercury caps above them were made exceptionally long. After the U-shaped tube was fitted and put in place, it was heated, so as to soften and take off the strain resulting from imperfect fitting. The U-shaped tube was provided with a stopcock C, and two ground connections g and g1—one for a small bulb b, usually containing caustic potash, and the other for the receiver r, to be exhausted.

The pump is connected through a U-shaped tube t to a very large reservoir R1. Extra care was taken in fitting the grinding surfaces of the stoppers p and p1, and both of these as well as the mercury caps above them were made particularly long. After the U-shaped tube was fitted and installed, it was heated to soften and relieve the strain from any imperfect fitting. The U-shaped tube had a stopcock C, along with two ground connections g and g1—one for a small bulb b, which usually contained caustic potash, and the other for the receiver r, which needed to be evacuated.

The reservoir R1 was connected by means of a rubber tube to a slightly larger reservoir R2, each of the two reservoirs being provided with a stopcock C1 and C2, respectively. The reservoir R1 could be raised and lowered by a wheel and rack, and the range of its motion was so determined that when it was filled with mercury and the stopcock C2 closed, so as to form a Torricellian vacuum in it when raised, it could be lifted so high that the mercury in reservoir R1 would stand a little above stopcock C1; and when this stopcock was closed and the reservoir R2 descended, so as to form a Torricellian vacuum in reservoir R1, it could be lowered so far as to completely empty the latter, the mercury filling the reservoir R2 up to a little above stopcock C2.

The reservoir R1 was connected with a rubber tube to a slightly larger reservoir R2, and both reservoirs had a stopcock C1 and C2, respectively. The reservoir R1 could be moved up and down using a wheel and rack, and the range of its movement was set so that when it was filled with mercury and the stopcock C2 was closed to create a Torricellian vacuum, it could be lifted high enough for the mercury in reservoir R1 to be just above stopcock C1. When this stopcock was closed and reservoir R2 was lowered to form a Torricellian vacuum in reservoir R1, it could be lowered enough to completely empty reservoir R1, causing the mercury to fill reservoir R2 to just above stopcock C2.

The capacity of the pump and of the connections was taken as small as possible relatively to the volume of reservoir R1, since, of course, the degree of exhaustion depended upon the ratio of these quantities.

The capacity of the pump and the connections was kept as low as possible compared to the volume of reservoir R1, because the level of exhaustion, of course, depended on the ratio of these amounts.

With this apparatus I combined the usual means indicated by former experiments for the production of very high vacua. In most of the experiments it was convenient to use caustic potash. I may venture to say, in regard to its use, that much time is saved and a more perfect action of the pump insured by fusing and boiling the potash as soon as, or even before, the pump settles down. If this course is not followed the sticks, as ordinarily employed, may give moisture off at a certain very slow rate, and the pump may work for many hours without reaching a very high vacuum. The potash was heated either by a spirit lamp or by passing a discharge through it, or by passing a current through a wire contained in it. The advantage in the latter case was that the heating could be more rapidly repeated.

With this equipment, I combined the usual methods suggested by previous experiments for creating very high vacuums. In most experiments, it was practical to use caustic potash. I can confidently say that using it saves time and ensures a more efficient pump action by fusing and boiling the potash as soon as, or even before, the pump begins to stabilize. If this approach isn't taken, the sticks typically used can release moisture at a very slow rate, causing the pump to run for many hours without achieving a high vacuum. The potash was heated either by a spirit lamp, by passing a discharge through it, or by running a current through a wire inside it. The benefit of the latter method was that the heating could be repeated more quickly.

Generally the process of exhaustion was the following:—At the start, the stop-cocks C and C1 being open, and all other connections closed, the reservoir R2 was raised so far that the mercury filled the reservoir R1 and a part of the narrow connecting U-shaped tube. When the pump was set to work, the mercury would, of course, quickly rise in the tube, and reservoir R2 was lowered, the experimenter keeping the mercury at about the same level. The reservoir R2 was balanced by a long spring which facilitated the operation, and the friction of the parts was generally sufficient to keep it almost in any position. When the Sprengel pump had done its work, the reservoir R2 was further lowered and the mercury descended in R1 and filled R2, whereupon stopcock C2 was closed. The air adhering to the walls of R1 and that absorbed by the mercury was carried off, and to free the mercury of all air the reservoir R2 was for a long time worked up and down. During this process some air, which would gather below stopcock C2, was expelled from R2 by lowering it far enough and opening the stopcock, closing the latter again before raising the reservoir. When all the air had been expelled from the mercury, and no air would gather in R2 when it was lowered, the caustic potash was resorted to. The reservoir R2 was now again raised until the mercury in R1 stood above stopcock C1. The caustic potash was fused and boiled, and the moisture partly carried off by the pump and partly re-absorbed; and this process of heating and cooling was repeated many times, and each time, upon the moisture being absorbed or carried off, the reservoir R2 was for a long time raised and lowered. In this manner all the moisture was carried off from the mercury, and both the reservoirs were in proper condition to be used. The reservoir R2 was then again raised to the top, and the pump was kept working for a long time. When the highest vacuum obtainable with the pump had been reached the potash bulb was usually wrapped with cotton which was sprinkled with ether so as to keep the potash at a very low temperature, then the reservoir R2 was lowered, and upon reservoir R1 being emptied the receiver r was quickly sealed up.

Generally, the process of exhaustion was as follows: At the start, the stopcocks C and C1 were open, and all other connections were closed. The reservoir R2 was raised until the mercury filled the reservoir R1 and part of the narrow connecting U-shaped tube. When the pump was activated, the mercury quickly rose in the tube, and reservoir R2 was lowered, while the experimenter kept the mercury at about the same level. The reservoir R2 was balanced by a long spring, which made the operation easier, and the friction of the parts was usually enough to hold it in almost any position. Once the Sprengel pump completed its task, reservoir R2 was lowered further, causing the mercury to drop in R1 and fill R2, at which point stopcock C2 was closed. The air stuck to the walls of R1 and that absorbed by the mercury was removed, and to free the mercury of all air, the reservoir R2 was worked up and down for an extended period. During this process, some air that gathered below stopcock C2 was expelled from R2 by lowering it far enough and opening the stopcock, closing it again before raising the reservoir. When all the air had been expelled from the mercury and no air collected in R2 while it was lowered, caustic potash was used. The reservoir R2 was raised again until the mercury in R1 was above stopcock C1. The caustic potash was melted and boiled, and the moisture was partly removed by the pump and partly reabsorbed; this heating and cooling process was repeated several times, and each time the moisture was absorbed or removed, reservoir R2 was raised and lowered for a long period. In this way, all the moisture was eliminated from the mercury, and both reservoirs were ready for use. Reservoir R2 was then raised to the top again, and the pump was kept running for a long time. When the highest vacuum achievable with the pump was reached, the potash bulb was typically wrapped in cotton that was sprinkled with ether to maintain a very low temperature. Then reservoir R2 was lowered, and upon emptying reservoir R1, the receiver r was quickly sealed.

When a new bulb was put on, the mercury was always raised above stopcock C1 which was closed, so as to always keep the mercury and both the reservoirs in fine condition, and the mercury was never withdrawn from R1 except when the pump had reached the highest degree of exhaustion. It is necessary to observe this rule if it is desired to use the apparatus to advantage.

When a new bulb was attached, the mercury was always pushed above stopcock C1, which was closed, in order to keep the mercury and both reservoirs in good condition. The mercury was only removed from R1 when the pump had reached the maximum level of exhaustion. It's important to follow this rule if you want to use the equipment effectively.

By means of this arrangement I was able to proceed very quickly, and when the apparatus was in perfect order it was possible to reach the phosphorescent stage in a small bulb in less than 15 minutes, which is certainly very quick work for a small laboratory arrangement requiring all in all about 100 pounds of mercury. With ordinary small bulbs the ratio of the capacity of the pump, receiver, and connections, and that of reservoir R was about 1-20, and the degrees of exhaustion reached were necessarily very high, though I am unable to make a precise and reliable statement how far the exhaustion was carried.

With this setup, I was able to move really fast, and when everything was working perfectly, I could get a small bulb to the phosphorescent stage in less than 15 minutes. That's definitely quick for a small lab setup that needed around 100 pounds of mercury in total. For standard small bulbs, the ratio of the pump, receiver, and connections to reservoir R was about 1-20, and the levels of exhaustion we achieved were pretty extreme, though I can't give a precise or reliable figure on how far the exhaustion went.

What impresses the investigator most in the course of these experiences is the behavior of gases when subjected to great rapidly alternating electrostatic stresses. But he must remain in doubt as to whether the effects observed are due wholly to the molecules, or atoms, of the gas which chemical analysis discloses to us, or whether there enters into play another medium of a gaseous nature, comprising atoms, or molecules, immersed in a fluid pervading the space. Such a medium surely must exist, and I am convinced that, for instance, even if air were absent, the surface and neighborhood of a body in space would be heated by rapidly alternating the potential of the body; but no such heating of the surface or neighborhood could occur if all free atoms were removed and only a homogeneous, incompressible, and elastic fluid—such as ether is supposed to be—would remain, for then there would be no impacts, no collisions. In such a case, as far as the body itself is concerned, only frictional losses in the inside could occur.

What impresses the investigator most during these experiences is how gases behave when exposed to rapidly changing electrostatic forces. However, he remains uncertain whether the observed effects are entirely due to the gas's molecules or atoms revealed by chemical analysis, or if there's an additional gaseous medium at play, consisting of atoms or molecules immersed in a fluid that fills the space. Such a medium must exist, and I believe that, for example, even in the absence of air, the surface and the area around a body in space would still heat up if the body's potential were rapidly alternated; however, no such heating of the surface or surrounding area could occur if all free atoms were removed and only a uniform, incompressible, and elastic fluid—like the hypothetical ether—remained, because then there would be no impacts or collisions. In that situation, regarding the body itself, only internal frictional losses could occur.

It is a striking fact that the discharge through a gas is established with ever increasing freedom as the frequency of the impulses is augmented. It behaves in this respect quite contrarily to a metallic conductor. In the latter the impedance enters prominently into play as the frequency is increased, but the gas acts much as a series of condensers would: the facility with which the discharge passes through seems to depend on the rate of change of potential. If it act so, then in a vacuum tube even of great length, and no matter how strong the current, self-induction could not assert itself to any appreciable degree. We have, then, as far as we can now see, in the gas a conductor which is capable of transmitting electric impulses of any frequency which we may be able to produce. Could the frequency be brought high enough, then a queer system of electric distribution, which would be likely to interest gas companies, might be realized: metal pipes filled with gas—the metal being the insulator, the gas the conductor—supplying phosphorescent bulbs, or perhaps devices as yet uninvented. It is certainly possible to take a hollow core of copper, rarefy the gas in the same, and by passing impulses of sufficiently high frequency through a circuit around it, bring the gas inside to a high degree of incandescence; but as to the nature of the forces there would be considerable uncertainty, for it would be doubtful whether with such impulses the copper core would act as a static screen. Such paradoxes and apparent impossibilities we encounter at every step in this line of work, and therein lies, to a great extent, the claim of the study.

It’s a striking fact that the discharge through a gas becomes increasingly easier as the frequency of the impulses rises. This behavior is quite the opposite of that seen in a metal conductor. In a metal conductor, impedance plays a significant role as frequency increases, while gas acts more like a series of capacitors: the ease with which the discharge passes through seems to depend on the rate of potential change. If this is true, then in a vacuum tube, regardless of its length and the strength of the current, self-induction wouldn't have any significant effect. So, it seems that gas can act as a conductor capable of carrying electric impulses of any frequency we can generate. If we could reach a high enough frequency, we might see a unique system of electric distribution that could interest gas companies: metal pipes filled with gas—the metal acting as an insulator, and the gas as a conductor—powering phosphorescent bulbs or perhaps devices not yet invented. It’s certainly feasible to take a hollow copper core, evacuate the gas inside it, and by applying sufficiently high-frequency impulses around it, bring the gas inside to a high level of brightness. However, there would be considerable uncertainty regarding the nature of the forces involved, as it would be unclear whether the copper core would function as a static shield under such conditions. We encounter strange paradoxes and apparent impossibilities at every turn in this field of study, and that, to a large extent, is what makes it intriguing.

I have here a short and wide tube which is exhausted to a high degree and covered with a substantial coating of bronze, the coating allowing barely the light to shine through. A metallic clasp, with a hook for suspending the tube, is fastened around the middle portion of the latter, the clasp being in contact with the bronze coating. I now want to light the gas inside by suspending the tube on a wire connected to the coil. Any one who would try the experiment for the first time, not having any previous experience, would probably take care to be quite alone when making the trial, for fear that he might become the joke of his assistants. Still, the bulb lights in spite of the metal coating, and the light can be distinctly perceived through the latter. A long tube covered with aluminium bronze lights when held in one hand—the other touching the terminal of the coil—quite powerfully. It might be objected that the coatings are not sufficiently conducting; still, even if they were highly resistant, they ought to screen the gas. They certainly screen it perfectly in a condition of rest, but not by far perfectly when the charge is surging in the coating. But the loss of energy which occurs within the tube, notwithstanding the screen, is occasioned principally by the presence of the gas. Were we to take a large hollow metallic sphere and fill it with a perfect incompressible fluid dielectric, there would be no loss inside of the sphere, and consequently the inside might be considered as perfectly screened, though the potential be very rapidly alternating. Even were the sphere filled with oil, the loss would be incomparably smaller than when the fluid is replaced by a gas, for in the latter case the force produces displacements; that means impact and collisions in the inside.

I have here a short and wide tube that’s highly evacuated and coated with a thick layer of bronze, which only lets a little light shine through. A metal clasp with a hook for hanging the tube is secured around its middle section, and this clasp is in contact with the bronze coating. I now want to ignite the gas inside by attaching the tube to a wire connected to the coil. Anyone trying this experiment for the first time, without any prior experience, would likely prefer to be alone during the attempt to avoid becoming the butt of a joke among their peers. Still, the bulb lights up despite the metal coating, and the light can be clearly seen through it. A long tube covered in aluminum bronze lights up powerfully when held in one hand, with the other touching the terminal of the coil. One might argue that the coatings aren't conductive enough; however, even if they were highly resistant, they should still contain the gas. They definitely do an excellent job of containing it in a static state, but they’re not as effective when the charge is fluctuating within the coating. The energy loss occurring inside the tube, despite the screen, is mainly due to the presence of the gas. If we took a large hollow metal sphere and filled it with a perfect incompressible fluid dielectric, there would be no loss inside the sphere, making the interior essentially perfectly shielded, even with rapidly alternating potential. Even if the sphere were filled with oil, the loss would be significantly lesser compared to when the fluid is replaced with a gas, because in the latter case, the force causes displacements, leading to impacts and collisions inside.

No matter what the pressure of the gas may be, it becomes an important factor in the heating of a conductor when the electric density is great and the frequency very high. That in the heating of conductors by lightning discharges air is an element of great importance, is almost as certain as an experimental fact. I may illustrate the action of the air by the following experiment: I take a short tube which is exhausted to a moderate degree and has a platinum wire running through the middle from one end to the other. I pass a steady or low frequency current through the wire, and it is heated uniformly in all parts. The heating here is due to conduction, or frictional losses, and the gas around the wire has—as far as we can see—no function to perform. But now let me pass sudden discharges, or a high frequency current, through the wire. Again the wire is heated, this time principally on the ends and least in the middle portion; and if the frequency of the impulses, or the rate of change, is high enough, the wire might as well be cut in the middle as not, for practically all the heating is due to the rarefied gas. Here the gas might only act as a conductor of no impedance diverting the current from the wire as the impedance of the latter is enormously increased, and merely heating the ends of the wire by reason of their resistance to the passage of the discharge. But it is not at all necessary that the gas in the tube should he conducting; it might be at an extremely low pressure, still the ends of the wire would be heated—as, however, is ascertained by experience—only the two ends would in such, case not be electrically connected through the gaseous medium. Now what with these frequencies and potentials occurs in an exhausted tube occurs in the lightning discharges at ordinary pressure. We only need remember one of the facts arrived at in the course of these investigations, namely, that to impulses of very high frequency the gas at ordinary pressure behaves much in the same manner as though it were at moderately low pressure. I think that in lightning discharges frequently wires or conducting objects are volatilized merely because air is present and that, were the conductor immersed in an insulating liquid, it would be safe, for then the energy would have to spend itself somewhere else. From the behavior of gases to sudden impulses of high potential I am led to conclude that there can be no surer way of diverting a lightning discharge than by affording it a passage through a volume of gas, if such a thing can be done in a practical manner.

No matter what the gas pressure is, it plays a significant role in heating a conductor when the electric density is high and the frequency is very high. The fact that air is a crucial element in the heating of conductors during lightning discharges is almost as obvious as an experimental fact. I can demonstrate how air affects this by running a simple experiment: I take a short tube that is moderately exhausted and has a platinum wire passing through it from one end to the other. When I pass a steady or low-frequency current through the wire, it heats up evenly along its length. This heating happens because of conduction or frictional losses, and the gas around the wire seems to have no effect. However, when I switch to sudden discharges or a high-frequency current, the wire heats up again, but this time mostly at the ends and less in the middle section. If the frequency of the impulses or the rate of change is high enough, you might as well cut the wire in half, as nearly all the heating is caused by the rarefied gas. Here, the gas might only serve as a conductor with very low impedance, diverting the current away from the wire since the wire's impedance is greatly increased, and primarily heating the ends of the wire due to their resistance to the discharge. It’s not even necessary for the gas in the tube to be conducting; it could be at an extremely low pressure, and still, the ends of the wire would be heated—as confirmed by experience—though in that case, the two ends would not be electrically connected through the gas. Now, what happens with these frequencies and potentials in an exhausted tube also occurs during lightning discharges at normal pressure. We just need to remember one fact from these investigations: that gas at normal pressure behaves similarly to gas at moderately low pressure when subjected to very high-frequency impulses. I believe that in lightning discharges, wires or conductive objects are often vaporized simply because air is present, and that if the conductor were submerged in an insulating liquid, it would be safe, since then the energy would have to dissipate elsewhere. From what I've observed about how gases react to sudden impulses of high potential, I conclude that there’s probably no better way to redirect a lightning discharge than by allowing it to pass through a gas volume, if that can be done practically.

There are two more features upon which I think it necessary to dwell in connection with these experiments—the "radiant state" and the "non-striking vacuum."

There are two more features that I think it’s important to focus on regarding these experiments—the "radiant state" and the "non-striking vacuum."

Any one who has studied Crookes' work must have received the impression that the "radiant state" is a property of the gas inseparably connected with an extremely high degree of exhaustion. But it should be remembered that the phenomena observed in an exhausted vessel are limited to the character and capacity of the apparatus which is made use of. I think that in a bulb a molecule, or atom, does not precisely move in a straight line because it meets no obstacle, but because the velocity imparted to it is sufficient to propel it in a sensibly straight line. The mean free path is one thing, but the velocity—the energy associated with the moving body—is another, and under ordinary circumstances I believe that it is a mere question of potential or speed. A disruptive discharge coil, when the potential is pushed very far, excites phosphorescence and projects shadows, at comparatively low degrees of exhaustion. In a lightning discharge, matter moves in straight lines as ordinary pressure when the mean free path is exceedingly small, and frequently images of wires or other metallic objects have been produced by the particles thrown off in straight lines.

Anyone who has studied Crookes' work must have the impression that the "radiant state" is a property of the gas that is closely tied to a very high level of vacuum. However, it's important to remember that the phenomena observed in an exhausted vessel depend on the characteristics and capabilities of the apparatus being used. I believe that in a bulb, a molecule or atom doesn't just move in a straight line because there are no obstacles, but because the speed it has is enough to keep it moving in a fairly straight line. The average free path is one thing, but the speed—the energy related to the moving object—is another. Under normal conditions, I think it's just a matter of potential or speed. A disruptive discharge coil, when the potential is pushed very high, can cause phosphorescence and cast shadows, even at relatively low levels of vacuum. In a lightning discharge, matter moves in straight lines at normal pressure when the average free path is extremely short, and often images of wires or other metallic objects have been created by particles moving off in straight lines.

FIG. 31.—BULB SHOWING RADIANT LIME STREAM AT LOW EXHAUSTION.

I have prepared a bulb to illustrate by an experiment the correctness of these assertions. In a globe L (Fig. 31) I have mounted upon a lamp filament f a piece of lime l. The lamp filament is connected with a wire which leads into the bulb, and the general construction of the latter is as indicated in Fig. 19, before described. The bulb being suspended from a wire connected to the terminal of the coil, and the latter being set to work, the lime piece l and the projecting parts of the filament f are bombarded. The degree of exhaustion is just such that with the potential the coil is capable of giving phosphorescence of the glass is produced, but disappears as soon as the vacuum is impaired. The lime containing moisture, and moisture being given off as soon as heating occurs, the phosphorescence lasts only for a few moments. When the lime has been sufficiently heated, enough moisture has been given off to impair materially the vacuum of the bulb. As the bombardment goes on, one point of the lime piece is more heated than other points, and the result is that finally practically all the discharge passes through that point which is intensely heated, and a white stream of lime particles (Fig. 31) then breaks forth from that point. This stream is composed of "radiant" matter, yet the degree of exhaustion is low. But the particles move in straight lines because the velocity imparted to them is great, and this is due to three causes—to the great electric density, the high temperature of the small point, and the fact that the particles of the lime are easily torn and thrown off—far more easily than those of carbon. With frequencies such as we are able to obtain, the particles are bodily thrown off and projected to a considerable distance; but with sufficiently high frequencies no such thing would occur: in such case only a stress would spread or a vibration would be propagated through the bulb. It would be out of the question to reach any such frequency on the assumption that the atoms move with the speed of light; but I believe that such a thing is impossible; for this an enormous potential would be required. With potentials which we are able to obtain, even with a disruptive discharge coil, the speed must be quite insignificant.

I’ve set up a bulb to demonstrate the accuracy of these claims through an experiment. In a globe L (Fig. 31), I’ve mounted a piece of lime l on a lamp filament f. The lamp filament is connected to a wire that leads into the bulb, and the overall design of the bulb is shown in Fig. 19, which has been described earlier. The bulb is suspended from a wire connected to the terminal of the coil, and once the coil is activated, the piece of lime l and the exposed areas of the filament f are bombarded. The vacuum level is just right so that the potential from the coil produces phosphorescence in the glass, but it disappears as soon as the vacuum is compromised. The lime holds moisture, which is released as soon as it heats up, so the phosphorescence only lasts for a brief time. Once the lime has been heated enough, enough moisture is released to significantly affect the vacuum in the bulb. As the bombardment continues, one part of the lime gets hotter than the rest, and eventually, almost all of the discharge flows through that hot spot, leading to a white stream of lime particles (Fig. 31) emerging from that area. This stream consists of “radiant” matter, even though the vacuum level is low. However, the particles move in straight lines because they gain a lot of speed, which is due to three factors: high electric density, the elevated temperature of the small point, and lime particles being easily ripped off and ejected—much more so than carbon particles. At the frequencies we can achieve, the particles are physically ejected and thrown a considerable distance; but at sufficiently high frequencies, that wouldn't happen: only a stress would diffuse, or a vibration would move through the bulb. It's unrealistic to reach such frequencies assuming the atoms move at the speed of light, and I believe that would be impossible because it would require an enormous potential. With the potentials we can achieve, even with a disruptive discharge coil, the speed must be quite minimal.

As to the "non-striking vacuum," the point to be noted is that it can occur only with low frequency impulses, and it is necessitated by the impossibility of carrying off enough energy with such impulses in high vacuum since the few atoms which are around the terminal upon coming in contact with the same are repelled and kept at a distance for a comparatively long period of time, and not enough work can be performed to render the effect perceptible to the eye. If the difference of potential between the terminals is raised, the dielectric breaks down. But with very high frequency impulses there is no necessity for such breaking down, since any amount of work can be performed by continually agitating the atoms in the exhausted vessel, provided the frequency is high enough. It is easy to reach—even with frequencies obtained from an alternator as here used—a stage at which the discharge does not pass between two electrodes in a narrow tube, each of these being connected to one of the terminals of the coil, but it is difficult to reach a point at which a luminous discharge would not occur around each electrode.

As for the "non-striking vacuum," it's important to note that it only happens with low-frequency impulses. This occurs because there's not enough energy transferred with such impulses in a high vacuum. The few atoms around the terminal get pushed away and stay at a distance for a relatively long time, so not enough work can be done to make the effect visible. If the voltage difference between the terminals increases, the dielectric breaks down. However, with very high-frequency impulses, there's no need for that breakdown, since any amount of work can be done by constantly agitating the atoms in the evacuated vessel, as long as the frequency is high enough. It's easy to reach a stage—even with frequencies generated from an alternator as used here—where the discharge doesn’t pass between two electrodes in a narrow tube, each connected to one of the terminals of the coil, but it's challenging to find a point where there wouldn't be a visible discharge around each electrode.

A thought which naturally presents itself in connection with high frequency currents, is to make use of their powerful electro-dynamic inductive action to produce light effects in a sealed glass globe. The leading-in wire is one of the defects of the present incandescent lamp, and if no other improvement were made, that imperfection at least should be done away with. Following this thought, I have carried on experiments in various directions, of which some were indicated in my former paper. I may here mention one or two more lines of experiment which have been followed up.

A thought that comes to mind when considering high frequency currents is to use their strong electro-dynamic inductive action to create lighting effects inside a sealed glass globe. The leading-in wire is one of the drawbacks of the current incandescent lamp, and even if no other improvements were made, that flaw should be eliminated. Building on this idea, I have conducted experiments in different directions, some of which I mentioned in my previous paper. Here, I'd like to highlight a couple more lines of experimentation that I've pursued.

Many bulbs were constructed as shown in Fig. 32 and Fig. 33.

Many bulbs were made as shown in Fig. 32 and Fig. 33.

FIG. 32.—ELECTRO-DYNAMIC INDUCTION TUBE.

 
 
 
 
 
 
In Fig. 32 a wide tube T was sealed to a smaller W-shaped tube U, of phosphorescent glass. In the tube T was placed a coil C of aluminium wire, the ends of which were provided with small spheres t and t1 of aluminium, and reached into the U tube. The tube T was slipped into a socket containing a primary coil through which usually the discharges of Leyden jars were directed, and the rarefied gas in the small U tube was excited to strong luminosity by the high-tension currents induced in the coil C. When Leyden jar discharges were used to induce currents in the coil C, it was found necessary to pack the tube T tightly with insulating powder, as a discharge would occur frequently between the turns of the coil, especially when the primary was thick and the air gap, through which the jars discharged, large, and no little trouble was experienced in this way.


 
 
 
 
 
In Fig. 32, a wide tube T was connected to a smaller W-shaped tube U made of phosphorescent glass. Inside the tube T, there was a coil C of aluminum wire, with small aluminum spheres t and t1 attached to its ends that extended into the U tube. The tube T was placed in a socket that contained a primary coil, which typically directed discharges from Leyden jars, and the rarefied gas in the smaller U tube was made to glow brightly by the high-voltage currents generated in the coil C. When Leyden jar discharges were used to create currents in the coil C, it became necessary to tightly pack the tube T with insulating powder, as discharges often occurred between the turns of the coil, especially when the primary was large and the air gap for the jar discharges was wide, leading to considerable issues.


 

FIG. 33—ELECTRO-DYNAMIC INDUCTION LAMP.

 
 
 
 
 
 
In Fig. 33 is illustrated another form of the bulb constructed. In this case a tube T is sealed to a globe L. The tube contains a coil C, the ends of which pass through two small glass tubes t and t1, which are sealed to the tube T. Two refractory buttons m and m1 are mounted on lamp filaments which are fastened to the ends of the wires passing through the glass tubes t and t1. Generally in bulbs made on this plan the globe L communicated with the tube T. For this purpose the ends of the small tubes t and t1 were just a trifle heated in the burner, merely to hold the wires, but not to interfere with the communication. The tube T, with the small tubes, wires through the same, and the refractory buttons m and m1, was first prepared, and then sealed to globe L, whereupon the coil C was slipped in and the connections made to its ends. The tube was then packed with insulating powder, jamming the latter as tight as possible up to very nearly the end, then it was closed and only a small hole left through which the remainder of the powder was introduced, and finally the end of the tube was closed. Usually in bulbs constructed as shown in Fig. 33 an aluminium tube a was fastened to the upper end s of each of the tubes t and t1, in order to protect that end against the heat. The buttons m and m1 could be brought to any degree of incandescence by passing the discharges of Leyden jars around the coil C. In such bulbs with two buttons a very curious effect is produced by the formation of the shadows of each of the two buttons.


 
 
 
 
 
Figure 33 shows another design of the bulb. In this case, a tube T is sealed to a globe L. The tube contains a coil C, with its ends passing through two small glass tubes t and t1, which are sealed to the tube T. Two heat-resistant buttons m and m1 are attached to lamp filaments that connect to the ends of the wires running through the glass tubes t and t1. Usually, in bulbs designed this way, the globe L is connected to the tube T. To achieve this, the ends of the small tubes t and t1 were slightly heated in the burner to hold the wires in place without disrupting the connection. The assembly with the tube T, small tubes, wires, and the heat-resistant buttons m and m1 was prepared first and then sealed to the globe L. After that, the coil C was inserted, and the connections were made to its ends. The tube was packed with insulating powder, pressed as tightly as possible almost to the end, and then closed with only a small opening left to introduce the remaining powder, after which the end of the tube was sealed. Typically, in bulbs like the one shown in Figure 33, an aluminum tube a was attached to the upper end s of each of the tubes t and t1 to protect that end from heat. The buttons m and m1 could be made to glow to any brightness by passing discharges from Leyden jars through the coil C. In bulbs with two buttons, an interesting effect occurs due to the shadows cast by each of the buttons.


Another line of experiment, which has been assiduously followed, was to induce by electro-dynamic induction a current or luminous discharge in an exhausted tube or bulb. This matter has received such able treatment at the hands of Prof. J.J. Thomson that I could add but little to what he has made known, even had I made it the special subject of this lecture. Still, since experiences in this line have gradually led me to the present views and results, a few words must be devoted here to this subject.

Another area of experimentation that has been diligently pursued is inducing a current or light discharge in an exhausted tube or bulb through electro-dynamic induction. This topic has been so expertly handled by Prof. J.J. Thomson that I could add very little to what he has revealed, even if I had made it the main focus of this lecture. Nevertheless, since my experiences in this field have slowly shaped my current views and findings, I must dedicate a few words to this topic.

It has occurred, no doubt, to many that as a vacuum tube is made longer the electromotive force per unit length of the tube, necessary to pass a luminous discharge through the latter, gets continually smaller; therefore, if the exhausted tube be made long enough, even with low frequencies a luminous discharge could be induced in such a tube closed upon itself. Such a tube might be placed around a ball or on a ceiling, and at once a simple appliance capable of giving considerable light would be obtained. But this would be an appliance hard to manufacture and extremely unmanageable. It would not do to make the tube up of small lengths, because there would be with ordinary frequencies considerable loss in the coatings, and besides, if coatings were used, it would be better to supply the current directly to the tube by connecting the coatings to a transformer. But even if all objections of such nature were removed, still, with low frequencies the light conversion itself would be inefficient, as I have before stated. In using extremely high frequencies the length of the secondary—in other words, the size of the vessel—can be reduced as far as desired, and the efficiency of the light conversion is increased, provided that means are invented for efficiently obtaining such high frequencies. Thus one is led, from theoretical and practical considerations, to the use of high frequencies, and this means high electromotive forces and small currents in the primary. When he works with condenser charges—and they are the only means up to the present known for reaching these extreme frequencies—he gets to electromotive forces of several thousands of volts per turn of the primary. He cannot multiply the electro-dynamic inductive effect by taking more turns in the primary, for he arrives at the conclusion that the best way is to work with one single turn—though he must sometimes depart from this rule—and he must get along with whatever inductive effect he can obtain with one turn. But before he has long experimented with the extreme frequencies required to set up in a small bulb an electromotive force of several thousands of volts he realizes the great importance of electrostatic effects, and these effects grow relatively to the electro-dynamic in significance as the frequency is increased.

It’s likely that many have noticed that as a vacuum tube gets longer, the voltage needed to create a visible discharge through it decreases continuously. Therefore, if the vacuum tube is made long enough, even with low frequencies, a visible discharge could be generated in a tube that loops back on itself. This type of tube could be wrapped around a ball or mounted on a ceiling, resulting in a simple device that could produce a significant amount of light. However, manufacturing this device would be challenging and quite unwieldy. Using short segments to build the tube wouldn't work well because there would be considerable energy loss at ordinary frequencies. Moreover, if coatings were applied, it would be more effective to connect the coatings directly to a transformer for power. Even if all such practical issues were resolved, the efficiency of converting light at low frequencies would still be poor, as I mentioned earlier. When operating at extremely high frequencies, the length of the secondary—or the size of the device—can be minimized, and light conversion efficiency increases, provided that methods for generating these high frequencies are developed. Thus, from both theoretical and practical perspectives, the focus shifts toward using high frequencies, which requires high voltages and low currents in the primary circuit. When using capacitor charges—as they are currently the only known method to achieve these extreme frequencies—one can generate thousands of volts per turn in the primary circuit. It’s not possible to enhance the inductive effect by increasing the number of turns in the primary, leading to the conclusion that using a single turn is often the best approach—though there are times when one must deviate from this. The aim is to maximize whatever inductive effect can be achieved with a single turn. However, after experimenting for a while with the high frequencies needed to produce several thousands of volts in a small bulb, one quickly realizes the significant role of electrostatic effects, which become increasingly important compared to inductive effects as the frequency rises.

Now, if anything is desirable in this case, it is to increase the frequency, and this would make it still worse for the electro-dynamic effects. On the other hand, it is easy to exalt the electrostatic action as far as one likes by taking more turns on the secondary, or combining self-induction and capacity to raise the potential. It should also be remembered that, in reducing the current to the smallest value and increasing the potential, the electric impulses of high frequency can be more easily transmitted through a conductor.

Now, if there's anything that's desirable in this situation, it's to increase the frequency, which would worsen the electro-dynamic effects. On the flip side, it's simple to boost the electrostatic action by adding more turns on the secondary coil or by combining self-induction and capacitance to raise the potential. It’s also important to keep in mind that by reducing the current to its lowest value and increasing the potential, high-frequency electric impulses can be transmitted more easily through a conductor.

These and similar thoughts determined me to devote more attention to the electrostatic phenomena, and to endeavor to produce potentials as high as possible, and alternating as fast as they could be made to alternate. I then found that I could excite vacuum tubes at considerable distance from a conductor connected to a properly constructed coil, and that I could, by converting the oscillatory current of a condenser to a higher potential, establish electrostatic alternating fields which acted through the whole extent of a room, lighting up a tube no matter where it was held in space. I thought I recognized that I had made a step in advance, and I have persevered in this line; but I wish to say that I share with all lovers of science and progress the one and only desire—to reach a result of utility to men in any direction to which thought or experiment may lead me. I think that this departure is the right one, for I cannot see, from the observation of the phenomena which manifest themselves as the frequency is increased, what there would remain to act between two circuits conveying, for instance, impulses of several hundred millions per second, except electrostatic forces. Even with such trifling frequencies the energy would be practically all potential, and my conviction has grown strong that, to whatever kind of motion light may be due, it is produced by tremendous electrostatic stresses vibrating with extreme rapidity.

These thoughts led me to focus more on electrostatic phenomena and to try to create the highest possible potentials that could alternate as quickly as possible. I discovered that I could excite vacuum tubes from a significant distance away from a conductor linked to a well-designed coil, and by converting the oscillatory current of a capacitor to a higher potential, I could create electrostatic alternating fields that filled an entire room, lighting up a tube regardless of where it was held. I felt I had made progress and continued on this path, but I want to emphasize that I share with all science enthusiasts and advocates for progress one common goal—to achieve something useful for humanity, no matter where my thoughts or experiments may take me. I believe this is the right direction, as I can see, from observing the phenomena that occur at higher frequencies, that the only forces left acting between two circuits transmitting impulses at hundreds of millions per second would be electrostatic forces. Even at such low frequencies, the energy would be almost entirely potential, and I have become increasingly convinced that, regardless of the type of motion light originates from, it is generated by immense electrostatic stresses vibrating at extremely high speeds.

Of all these phenomena observed with currents, or electric impulses, of high frequency, the most fascinating for an audience are certainly those which are noted in an electrostatic field acting through considerable distance, and the best an unskilled lecturer can do is to begin and finish with the exhibition of these singular effects. I take a tube in the hand and move it about, and it is lighted wherever I may hold it; throughout space the invisible forces act. But I may take another tube and it might not light, the vacuum being very high. I excite it by means of a disruptive discharge coil, and now it will light in the electrostatic field. I may put it away for a few weeks or months, still it retains the faculty of being excited. What change have I produced in the tube in the act of exciting it? If a motion imparted to the atoms, it is difficult to perceive how it can persist so long without being arrested by frictional losses; and if a strain exerted in the dielectric, such as a simple electrification would produce, it is easy to see how it may persist indefinitely, but very difficult to understand why such a condition should aid the excitation when we have to deal with potentials which are rapidly alternating.

Of all the phenomena observed with high-frequency currents or electric impulses, the most captivating for an audience are definitely those seen in an electrostatic field that works over a significant distance. The best an inexperienced lecturer can do is start and finish by showcasing these unique effects. I grab a tube and move it around, and it lights up wherever I hold it; invisible forces are at play throughout the space. But I might take another tube, and it may not light up because the vacuum inside is very high. I energize it with a disruptive discharge coil, and now it lights up in the electrostatic field. I can set it aside for a few weeks or months, and it still has the ability to be re-energized. What change have I made in the tube during the process of exciting it? If I’ve transferred motion to the atoms, it's hard to see how it can last so long without being stopped by frictional losses. And if I've created a strain in the dielectric, like simple electrification would cause, it's easy to understand how that might last indefinitely, but it's very challenging to grasp why that condition would support the excitation when we’re dealing with rapidly alternating potentials.

Since I have exhibited these phenomena for the first time, I have obtained some other interesting effects. For instance, I have produced the incandescence of a button, filament, or wire enclosed in a tube. To get to this result it was necessary to economize the energy which is obtained from the field and direct most of it on the small body to be rendered incandescent. At the beginning the task appeared difficult, but the experiences gathered permitted me to reach the result easily. In Fig. 34 and Fig. 35 two such tubes are illustrated which are prepared for the occasion.

Since I showed these phenomena for the first time, I’ve discovered some other interesting effects. For example, I’ve created the glowing effect of a button, filament, or wire inside a tube. To achieve this, I had to conserve the energy gathered from the field and focus most of it on the small object I wanted to make glow. At first, the task seemed challenging, but the experiences I collected allowed me to reach the result easily. In Fig. 34 and Fig. 35, two of these tubes are shown that were made for the occasion.

FIG. 34.—TUBE WITH FILAMENT RENDERED INCANDESCENT IN AN ELECTROSTATIC FIELD.

 
 
 
 
 
 
In Fig. 34 a short tube T1, sealed to another long tube T, is provided with a stem s, with a platinum wire sealed in the latter. A very thin lamp filament l is fastened to this wire, and connection to the outside is made through a thin copper wire w. The tube is provided with outside and inside coatings, C and C1 respectively, and is filled as far as the coatings reach with conducting, and the space above with insulating powder. These coatings are merely used to enable me to perform two experiments with the tube—namely, to produce the effect desired either by direct connection of the body of the experimenter or of another body to the wire w, or by acting inductively through the glass. The stem s is provided with an aluminium tube a, for purposes before explained, and only a small part of the filament reaches out of this tube. By holding the tube T1 anywhere in the electrostatic field the filament is rendered incandescent.


 
 
 
 
 
In Fig. 34, there's a short tube T1, connected to a longer tube T, which has a stem s with a platinum wire sealed inside it. A very thin lamp filament l is attached to this wire, and the setup connects to the outside using a thin copper wire w. The tube has both outside and inside coatings, C and C1 respectively, and is filled with a conductive material up to the coatings and insulating powder above that. These coatings are used to allow me to conduct two experiments with the tube—either by directly connecting the experimenter's body or another body's connection to the wire w, or by inducing effects through the glass. The stem s has an aluminum tube a for previously stated purposes, and only a small part of the filament extends out of this tube. When holding the tube T1 in the electrostatic field, the filament glows brightly.


 

FIG. 35.—CROOKES' EXPERIMENT IN ELECTROSTATIC FIELD.

 
 
 
 
 
 
A more interesting piece of apparatus is illustrated in Fig. 35. The construction is the same as before, only instead of the lamp filament a small platinum wire p, sealed in a stem s, and bent above it in a circle, is connected to the copper wire w, which is joined to an inside coating C. A small stem s1 is provided with a needle, on the point of which is arranged to rotate very freely a very light fan of mica v. To prevent the fan from falling out, a thin stem of glass g is bent properly and fastened to the aluminium tube. When the glass tube is held anywhere in the electrostatic field the platinum wire becomes incandescent, and the mica vanes are rotated very fast.


 
 
 
 
 
A more interesting piece of equipment is shown in Fig. 35. The design is the same as before, but instead of the lamp filament, a small piece of platinum wire p, sealed in a stem s and bent into a circle above it, is attached to the copper wire w, which connects to an inner coating C. A small stem s1 has a needle, at the tip of which a very lightweight mica fan v is arranged to rotate freely. To keep the fan from falling out, a thin glass stem g is properly bent and attached to the aluminum tube. When the glass tube is held anywhere in the electrostatic field, the platinum wire glows, and the mica vanes spin rapidly.


Intense phosphorescence may be excited in a bulb by merely connecting it to a plate within the field, and the plate need not be any larger than an ordinary lamp shade. The phosphorescence excited with these currents is incomparably more powerful than with ordinary apparatus. A small phosphorescent bulb, when attached to a wire connected to a coil, emits sufficient light to allow reading ordinary print at a distance of five to six paces. It was of interest to see how some of the phosphorescent bulbs of Professor Crookes would behave with these currents, and he has had the kindness to lend me a few for the occasion. The effects produced are magnificent, especially by the sulphide of calcium and sulphide of zinc. From the disruptive discharge coil they glow intensely merely by holding them in the hand and connecting the body to the terminal of the coil.

Intense phosphorescence can be activated in a bulb just by connecting it to a plate within the field, and the plate doesn’t need to be bigger than a regular lamp shade. The phosphorescence generated by these currents is significantly stronger than with standard equipment. A small phosphorescent bulb, when linked to a wire connected to a coil, gives off enough light to read regular text from five to six paces away. It was fascinating to see how some of Professor Crookes’s phosphorescent bulbs reacted to these currents, and he kindly lent me a few for this purpose. The effects produced are stunning, especially with calcium sulfide and zinc sulfide. From the disruptive discharge coil, they shine brightly just by holding them in hand and connecting the body to the coil terminal.

To whatever results investigations of this kind may lead, their chief interest lies for the present in the possibilities they offer for the production of an efficient illuminating device. In no branch of electric industry is an advance more desired than in the manufacture of light. Every thinker, when considering the barbarous methods employed, the deplorable losses incurred in our best systems of light production, must have asked himself, What is likely to be the light of the future? Is it to be an incandescent solid, as in the present lamp, or an incandescent gas, or a phosphorescent body, or something like a burner, but incomparably more efficient?

To whatever outcomes investigations like this may lead, their main interest right now is in the potential they offer for creating an effective lighting device. No area of the electric industry is in more need of progress than in the production of light. Every thinker, when reflecting on the outdated methods used and the significant losses faced in our best lighting systems, must wonder, What will the light of the future look like? Will it be a solid incandescent like today’s bulbs, or an incandescent gas, or a phosphorescent material, or something that works like a burner but is far more efficient?

There is little chance to perfect a gas burner; not, perhaps, because human ingenuity has been bent upon that problem for centuries without a radical departure having been made—though this argument is not devoid of force-but because in a burner the higher vibrations can never be reached except by passing through all the low ones. For how is a flame produced unless by a fall of lifted weights? Such process cannot be maintained without renewal, and renewal is repeated passing from low to high vibrations. One way only seems to be open to improve a burner, and that is by trying to reach higher degrees of incandescence. Higher incandescence is equivalent to a quicker vibration; that means more light from the same material, and that, again, means more economy. In this direction some improvements have been made, but the progress is hampered by many limitations. Discarding, then, the burner, there remain the three ways first mentioned, which are essentially electrical.

There’s not much chance to perfect a gas burner; not necessarily because people have been working on that issue for centuries without significant breakthroughs—though that argument does hold some weight—but because a burner can only reach higher vibrations by going through all the lower ones first. After all, how is a flame created if not by a drop of lifted weights? This process can’t be sustained without renewal, and that renewal involves moving from low to high vibrations repeatedly. The one clear way to improve a burner is by trying to achieve higher levels of incandescence. Higher incandescence means quicker vibrations, which translates to more light from the same material, leading to greater efficiency. Some advancements have been made in this area, but progress is limited by several constraints. Setting aside the burner, we’re left with the three methods mentioned earlier, which are fundamentally electrical.

Suppose the light of the immediate future to be a solid rendered incandescent by electricity. Would it not seem that it is better to employ a small button than a frail filament? From many considerations it certainly must be concluded that a button is capable of a higher economy, assuming, of course, the difficulties connected with the operation of such a lamp to be effectively overcome. But to light such a lamp we require a high potential; and to get this economically we must use high frequencies.

Suppose the light of the near future is a solid made bright by electricity. Wouldn’t it seem better to use a small button instead of a fragile filament? From various points of view, it seems clear that a button can be more economical, assuming the challenges of operating such a lamp can be effectively addressed. However, to power such a lamp, we need a high voltage; and to achieve this cost-effectively, we need to use high frequencies.

Such considerations apply even more to the production of light by the incandescence of a gas, or by phosphorescence. In all cases we require high frequencies and high potentials. These thoughts occurred to me a long time ago.

Such thoughts are even more relevant when it comes to producing light through gas incandescence or phosphorescence. In all cases, we need high frequencies and high potentials. I had these ideas a long time ago.

Incidentally we gain, by the use of very high frequencies, many advantages, such as a higher economy in the light production, the possibility of working with one lead, the possibility of doing away with the leading-in wire, etc.

Incidentally, by using very high frequencies, we gain several advantages, such as improved efficiency in light production, the ability to operate with a single lead, and the option to eliminate the leading-in wire, among others.

The question is, how far can we go with frequencies? Ordinary conductors rapidly lose the facility of transmitting electric impulses when the frequency is greatly increased. Assume the means for the production of impulses of very great frequency brought to the utmost perfection, every one will naturally ask how to transmit them when the necessity arises. In transmitting such impulses through conductors we must remember that we have to deal with pressure and flow, in the ordinary interpretation of these terms. Let the pressure increase to an enormous value, and let the flow correspondingly diminish, then such impulses—variations merely of pressure, as it were—can no doubt be transmitted through a wire even if their frequency be many hundreds of millions per second. It would, of course, be out of question to transmit such impulses through a wire immersed in a gaseous medium, even if the wire were provided with a thick and excellent insulation for most of the energy would be lost in molecular bombardment and consequent heating. The end of the wire connected to the source would be heated, and the remote end would receive but a trifling part of the energy supplied. The prime necessity, then, if such electric impulses are to be used, is to find means to reduce as much as possible the dissipation.

The question is, how far can we go with frequencies? Regular conductors quickly lose their ability to transmit electric impulses when the frequency is significantly increased. Assuming we perfect the technology for producing very high-frequency impulses, everyone will inevitably wonder how to transmit them when needed. When transmitting these impulses through conductors, we must remember that we're dealing with pressure and flow, in the usual sense of those terms. If the pressure rises to an extremely high level and the flow decreases accordingly, then these impulses—just variations in pressure—can indeed be transmitted through a wire, even if their frequency is in the hundreds of millions per second. However, it would be impossible to transmit such impulses through a wire that's surrounded by a gas, even if the wire has thick and excellent insulation, since most of the energy would be lost due to molecular collisions and resulting heating. The end of the wire connected to the source would get hot, and the far end would receive only a small fraction of the energy supplied. Therefore, the main requirement, if we want to use such electric impulses, is to find ways to minimize energy loss as much as possible.

The first thought is, employ the thinnest possible wire surrounded by the thickest practicable insulation. The next thought is to employ electrostatic screens. The insulation of the wire may be covered with a thin conducting coating and the latter connected to the ground. But this would not do, as then all the energy would pass through the conducting coating to the ground and nothing would get to the end of the wire. If a ground connection is made it can only be made through a conductor offering an enormous impedance, or though a condenser of extremely small capacity. This, however, does not do away with other difficulties.

The first idea is to use the thinnest wire possible with the thickest insulation that can be managed. The next idea is to use electrostatic shields. The wire's insulation could be layered with a thin conductive coating that connects to the ground. However, this wouldn’t work, since all the energy would flow through the conductive coating to the ground, leaving nothing at the end of the wire. If a ground connection is made, it must go through a conductor with very high impedance or through a capacitor with an extremely small capacity. However, this doesn't eliminate other challenges.

If the wave length of the impulses is much smaller than the length of the wire, then corresponding short waves will be sent up in the conducting coating, and it will be more or less the same as though the coating were directly connected to earth. It is therefore necessary to cut up the coating in sections much shorter than the wave length. Such an arrangement does not still afford a perfect screen, but it is ten thousand times better than none. I think it preferable to cut up the conducting coating in small sections, even if the current waves be much longer than the coating.

If the wavelength of the impulses is much smaller than the length of the wire, then corresponding short waves will be transmitted through the conductive coating, making it similar to being directly grounded. Therefore, it's essential to divide the coating into sections that are much shorter than the wavelength. This setup doesn't create a perfect shield, but it's ten thousand times better than having nothing at all. I believe it's better to break up the conductive coating into small sections, even if the current waves are significantly longer than the coating.

If a wire were provided with a perfect electrostatic screen, it would be the same as though all objects were removed from it at infinite distance. The capacity would then be reduced to the capacity of the wire itself, which would be very small. It would then be possible to send over the wire current vibrations of very high frequencies at enormous distance without affecting greatly the character of the vibrations. A perfect screen is of course out of the question, but I believe that with a screen such as I have just described telephony could be rendered practicable across the Atlantic. According to my ideas, the gutta-percha covered wire should be provided with a third conducting coating subdivided in sections. On the top of this should be again placed a layer of gutta-percha and other insulation, and on the top of the whole the armor. But such cables will not be constructed, for ere long intelligence—transmitted without wires—will throb through the earth like a pulse through a living organism. The wonder is that, with the present state of knowledge and the experiences gained, no attempt is being made to disturb the electrostatic or magnetic condition of the earth, and transmit, if nothing else, intelligence.

If a wire had a perfect electrostatic shield, it would be like having all objects removed from it at an infinite distance. The capacity would then be limited to the capacity of the wire itself, which would be very small. This would allow us to send high-frequency current vibrations over long distances without significantly altering the nature of the vibrations. A perfect shield isn't feasible, but I think that with a screen like the one I've just described, long-distance telephony across the Atlantic could be possible. In my view, a gutta-percha coated wire should have a third conducting layer divided into sections. On top of that would be another layer of gutta-percha and other forms of insulation, and finally, an armor layer over everything. However, such cables won’t be made because, before long, information—transmitted wirelessly—will pulse through the earth like a heartbeat in a living organism. It’s surprising that, given our current knowledge and experiences, no one is trying to alter the electrostatic or magnetic condition of the earth to transmit at least some form of information.

It has been my chief aim in presenting these results to point out phenomena or features of novelty, and to advance ideas which I am hopeful will serve as starting points of new departures. It has been my chief desire this evening to entertain you with some novel experiments. Your applause, so frequently and generously accorded, has told me that I have succeeded.

It has been my main goal in sharing these results to highlight new phenomena or features, and to propose ideas that I hope will act as catalysts for new developments. This evening, my primary wish has been to engage you with some innovative experiments. Your applause, often and generously given, has shown me that I have succeeded.

In conclusion, let me thank you most heartily for your kindness and attention, and assure you that the honor I have had in addressing such a distinguished audience, the pleasure I have had in presenting these results to a gathering of so many able men—and among them also some of those in whose work for many years past I have found enlightenment and constant pleasure—I shall never forget.

In conclusion, I want to sincerely thank you for your kindness and attention. I truly appreciate the honor of speaking to such an impressive audience and the pleasure of sharing these results with so many talented individuals—including some whose work has inspired and brought me joy for many years. I will always remember this experience.

 

Transcriber's note: Corrected the following typesetting errors:
1) 'preceived' to 'perceived', page 16.
2) 'disharging' to 'discharging', page 30.
3) 'park' to 'spark', page 33.
4) 'pssition' to 'position', page 50.
5) 'to th opposite side' to 'to the opposite side', page 56.
6) 's resses' to 'stresses', page 147.



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