of Franklin's "Poor Richard" has had to go; and, in place of the steady, conservative habits which Franklin inculcated, we have a fierce philosophy which perhaps best expresses itself in the current determination not to "get left," and to get there "fairly and easily if possible, but at any rate to 'get there.'" The industrial world has been revolutionized in a half-century; and the non-adaptation of the population to its industrial environment has put a severe nervous strain upon the entire race. Hence comes the great and annually increasing percentage of insane to be found in all civilized countries, and particularly in the United States and England. Our condition has been materially bettered, but this does not altogether compensate for the strangeness of the surroundings; and, like the child of the forest brought unwillingly into civilization, mental health longs for a little barbarism. Naturally, under the circumstances, the most striking of the ill effects of the strain imposed by the new conditions are found in the foreign population which comes to this country with so little preparation. The proportion of insane among this class is very great. But the force of the resisting and reactive tendency may be seen almost everywhere. A college president recently called in a state church as a remedy for our woes, a medicine in order some ten centuries ago. Among economists we have a "new" school, composed largely of young men of little practical experience, who have got their ideas in German universities, and who exhibit a profound partiality for despotic government, and the revival of that régime where "the state" was everywhere. In letters we have Carlyle, whose passion for the imperialistic, the feudal, the patriarchal, joins with his contempt for liberalism of every form; Ruskin, whose detestation of the steam-engine and modern arrangements in general reaches an insane pitch; and Tennyson, the central note of whose thoughtful poetry is one of unrest and impatience. These great writers faithfully reflect the feeling of many, and perhaps most of us; and similar tones are found in our lesser writers. It is rather ludicrous to note how often the newspapers call for "rigid" legislation of some kind or other. And of course the Legislatures and courts have not failed to reflect faithfully, as is their duty, the temper of society at large. Thus, along with our great advance, we are suffering the agitation and disquiet of a necessary reaction. Travelers on the St. Lawrence will remember a scene typifying our social situation. As the steamer falls into the swift current of the Lachine Rapids, and takes on a fearful speed, we notice short, steep waves angrily assailing us from front and sides. These waves are raised by the rapidity of the water's descent, which, rushing downward at a rate of twenty-five miles an hour, is lashed to fury by the air, just as a rushing air raises the still waters of a lake or ocean. And the very swiftness of the descent is indicated by, and makes inevitable, the violence of the resisting waves, as we shoot down to the calm waters below the rapids.
A republication of Mr. Wells's articles is very desirable. It seems to me that they will be accepted as the best contribution of recent years to economic science. Pardon my long letter.
Charles S. Ashley. |
Toledo, May 5, 1888. |
FOG-SIGNALS.
Editor Popular Science Monthly:
Sir: Mr. A. B. Johnson, in his article in the May number, on "Sound-Signals," referring to my code, commends it as the best he has yet met with, but alludes to it especially as an adaptation of the Morse code. To correct any impression that might arise that my code was suggested by Morse's telegraphic alphabet, I beg to state that it simply has nothing to do with the Morse code, except that the different signals, long and short, with varying intervals of silence—or non-signaling—may be indicated by dot and dash on a compass-card or chart for convenience. The signals consist of whistle blasts, indicating, not only the position of a vessel in fog or darkness, but also the direction in which she is moving. It is not designed as an alphabet, except to indicate courses being steered by vessels in danger of colliding if they did not indicate in some way as approximately as possible their position and course.
Without disputing the facts already stated in this magazine, and in previous articles by the same writer, founded on scientific observation—viz., that aberration of sound does occur from various causes, and that exact location of an object by sound may be impossible—still, it has been the ambition of the writer of this to establish the use of a code of fog-signals at sea designed to prevent collisions by indicating the course a vessel may be steering. At present, signals by sound between vessels in motion, indicating course, are given when they are each in sight,or at least when one discovers the proximity of the other. By the present code of signals they may indicate whether they will pass to the right or left of each other, and this is done by blowing one or two whistles to which the response is supposed to be favorable from the vessel signaled.
This code of signals may be good enough for every purpose when vessels are in sight, but gives at best very slight warning when vessels are approaching each other in fog or "thick weather." Something more is demanded as a warning of approach, and the more intelligible and informing this warning signal can be the better. It has been advocated that a signal indicating a vessel's course as being in either of the four quadrants of the compass—as between N. and E., E. and