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  [Illustration: FIRST PERIOD.

  PAPER, ASPHALTUM, &C.

  THOMAS WEDGWOOD.
  _From a Plaster Cast._

  JOSEPH NICÉPHORE NIÉPCE.
  _From a Painting by L. Berger._

  Rev. J. B. READE.
  _From a Photograph
  by Maull & Fox._

  HENRY FOX TALBOT.
  _From a Calotype._

  SIR JOHN HERSCHEL.
  _From a Daguerreotype._]


THE EVOLUTION OF PHOTOGRAPHY.

With a Chronological Record of Discoveries, Inventions, Etc.,
Contributions to Photographic Literature, and
Personal Reminiscences Extending over Forty Years.

by

JOHN WERGE.

Illustrated.







London: Piper & Carter, 5, Furnival Street, Holborn, E.C.;
and John Werge, 11A, Berners Street, Oxford Street, W.
1890.

[All Rights Reserved.]

Printed by Piper & Carter, 5, Furnival Street, Holborn, London, E.C.




PREFACE.


No previous history of photography, that I am aware of, has ever assumed
the form of a reminiscence, nor have I met with a photographic work, of
any description, that is so strictly built upon a chronological
foundation as the one now placed in the hands of the reader. I therefore
think, and trust, that it will prove to be an acceptable and readable
addition to photographic literature.

It was never intended that this volume should be a text-book, so I have
not entered into elaborate descriptions of the manipulations of this or
that process, but have endeavoured to make it a comprehensive and
agreeable summary of all that has been done in the past, and yet convey
a perfect knowledge of all the processes as they have appeared and
effected radical changes in the practice of photography.

The chronological record of discoveries, inventions, appliances, and
publications connected with the art will, it is hoped, be received and
considered as a useful and interesting table of reference; while the
reminiscences, extending over forty years of unbroken contact with every
phase of photography, and some of its pioneers, will form a vital link
between the long past and immediate present, which may awaken pleasing
recollections in some, and give encouragement to others to enter the
field of experiment, and endeavour to continue the work of evolution.

At page 10 it is stated, on the authority of the late Robert Hunt, that
some of Niépce's early pictures may be seen at the British Museum. That
was so, but unfortunately it is not so now. On making application, very
recently, to examine these pictures, I ascertained that they were never
placed in the care of the curator of the British Museum, but were the
private property of the late Dr. Robert Brown, who left them to his
colleague, John Joseph Bennett, and that at the latter's death they
passed into the possession of his widow. I wrote to the lady making
enquiries about them, but have not been able to trace them further;
there are, however, two very interesting examples of Niépce's
heliographs, and one photo-etched plate and print, lent by Mr. H. P.
Robinson, on view at South Kensington, in the Western Gallery of the
Science Collection.

For the portrait of Thomas Wedgwood, I am indebted to Mr. Godfrey
Wedgwood; for that of Joseph Nicéphore Niépce, to the Mayor of
Chalons-sur-Saône; for the Rev. J. B. Reade's, to Mr. Fox; for Sir John
Herschel's, to Mr. H. H. Cameron; for John Frederick Goddard's, to Dr.
Jabez Hogg; and for Frederick Scott Archer's, to Mr. Alfred Cade; and to
all those gentlemen I tender my most grateful acknowledgments. Also to
the Autotype Company, for their care and attention in carrying out my
wishes in the reproduction of all the illustrations by their beautiful
Collotype Process.

JOHN WERGE.

_London, June, 1890._




CONTENTS.


  INTRODUCTION                                                     1

  FIRST PERIOD.
    The Dark Ages                                                  3

  SECOND PERIOD.
    Publicity and Progress                                        27

  THIRD PERIOD.
    Collodion Triumphant                                          58

  FOURTH PERIOD.
    Gelatine Successful                                           95

  CHRONOLOGICAL RECORD.
    Inventions, Discoveries, etc.                                126

  CONTRIBUTIONS TO PHOTOGRAPHIC LITERATURE.                      140




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.


  Frontispiece     Portrait of Thomas Wedgwood.

      "            Portrait of Joseph Nicéphore Niépce.

      "            Portrait of Rev. J. B. Reade.

      "            Portrait of Henry Fox Talbot.

      "            Portrait of Sir John Herschel.

     27            Portrait of L. J. M. Daguerre.

     27            Portrait of John Frederick Goddard.

     27            Copy of Instantaneous Daguerreotype.

     58            Portrait of Frederick Scott Archer.

     58            Hever Castle, Kent.

     95            Portrait of Dr. R. L. Maddox.

     95            Portrait of Richard Kennett.




INDEX.


  Archer, Frederick Scott, 58-69
  Argentic Gelatino-Bromide Paper, 106
  Abney's Translation of Pizzighelli and Hubl's Booklet, 109
  A String of Old Beads, 309

  Bacon, Roger, 3
  Bennett, Charles, 102
  Boston, 51
  Bromine Accelerator, 29
  Bingham, Robert J., 87
  Burgess, J., 93

  Cabinet Portraits, 84
  Camera-Obscura, 3
  Chronological Record, 126-139
  Convention of 1889, 122
  Claudet, A. F. J., 29, 86
  Chlorine Accelerator, 29
  Collodion Process (Archer's), 68
  Collodio-Chloride Printing Process, 81

  Davy, Sir H., 9
  Daguerre, L. J. M., 9, 43
  Daguerreotype Process, 23, 24, 25
  ---- Apparatus Imported, 29
  Diaphanotypes, 71
  Dolland, J., 4
  Donkin, W. F., 120
  Draper, Dr., 107
  Dublin Exhibition, 205-226

  Eburneum Process, 82
  Elliott & Fry, 96
  Eosine, &c., 109
  Errors in Pictorial Backgrounds, 231

  First Photographic Portrait, 107
  Fizeau, M., 6, 28
  Flash-light Pictures, 118

  Gelatino-Bromide Experiments, 91
  Globe Lens, 78
  Goddard, John Frederick, 28, 79

  Harrison, W. H., 87
  Heliographic Process, 11, 12, 13
  Heliochromy, 88
  Herschel, Dr., 6
  Herschel, Sir John, 94
  Hillotypes, 71
  Hughes, Jabez, 55, 75
  Hunt, Robert, 117

  International Exhibitions, 42, 77, 82, 111

  Johnson, J. R., 107

  Kennett, R., 96

  Lambert, Leon, 98
  Laroche, Sylvester, 116
  Lea, Carey, 101
  "Lux Graphicus" on the Wing, 273-299
  Lights and Lighting, 311

  Maddox, Dr. R. L., 91
  Magic Photographs, 83
  Mawson, John, 85
  Mayall, J. E., 54
  Macbeth, Norman, 120
  Montreal, 51
  Morgan and Kidd, 106

  Newton, Sir Isaac, 3
  New York, 48, 71
  Niagara, 50
  Niépce, J. Nicéphore, 9, 11
  Niépce de St. Victor, 88
  Niagara, Pictures of, 140-158
  Notes on Pictures in National Gallery, 245

  Orthochromatic Plates, 115

  Panoramic Lens and Camera, 76
  Pistolgraph, 76
  Pensions to Daguerre and Niépce, 33
  Philadelphia, 49
  Ponton, Mungo, 22, 103
  Poitevin, M., 85, 108
  Porta, Baptista G., 3
  Potash Bichromate, 22
  Pouncy Process, 78
  Pictures of the St. Lawrence, 158-169
  Pinhole Camera, 117
  Pizzighelli's Platinum Printing, 118
  Pictures of the Potomac, 183-196
  Photography in the North, 226-231
  Perspective, 237-244
  Photography and the Immured Pompeiians, 303

  Rambles among Studios, 196-204
  Reade, Rev. J. B., 15-22, 90
  Rejlander, O. G., 98
  Ritter, John Wm., 5
  Rumford, Count, 5
  Russell, Col., 117

  Sable Island, 47
  Salomon, Adam, 84
  Sawyer, J. R., 121
  Scheele, C. W., 4, 5
  Senebier, 5
  Simpson, George Wharton, 75, 103
  Soda Sulphite, 109
  Swan's Carbon Process, 80
  Stannotype, 107
  Sutton, Thomas, 100
  Spencer, J. A., 102
  Stereoscopic Pictures, 119
  Sharpness and Softness _v._ Hardness, 249
  Simple Mode of Intensifying Negatives, 307

  Talbot, Henry Fox, 14, 101
  Talbot versus Laroche, 54
  Taylor, Professor Alfred Swaine, 104
  The Hudson River, 169-183
  The Society's Exhibition, 260
  The Use of Clouds in Landscapes, 265
  ---- as Backgrounds in Portraiture, 269

  Union of the North and South London Societies, 253

  Vogel, Dr. H. W., 109

  Washington, 49
  Wedgwood Controversy, 80
  Wedgwood, Thomas, 7, 8, 9
  Whipple Gallery, 52
  Wolcott Reflecting Camera, 28
  Wollaston's Diaphragmatic Shutter, 115
  Wollaston, Dr., 6
  Woodbury Process, 82
  Wothlytype Printing Process, 81




INTRODUCTION.


Photography, though young in years, is sufficiently aged to be in danger
of having much of its early history, its infantile gambols, and vigorous
growth, obscured or lost sight of in the glitter and reflection of the
brilliant success which surrounds its maturity. Scarcely has the period
of an average life passed away since the labours of the successful
experimentalists began; yet, how few of the present generation of
workers can lay their fingers on the dates of the birth, christening,
and phases of the delightful vocation they pursue. Many know little or
nothing of the long and weary travail the minds of the discoverers
suffered before their ingenuity gave birth to the beautiful art-science
by which they live. What form the infant art assumed in the earlier
stages of its life; or when, where, and how, it passed from one phase to
another until it arrived at its present state of mature and profitable
perfection. Born with the art, as I may say, and having graduated in it,
I could, if I felt so disposed, give an interesting, if not amusing,
description of its rise and progress, and the many difficulties and
disappointments that some of the early practitioners experienced at a
time when photographic A B C's were not printed; its "principles and
practice" anything but familiarly explained; and when the "dark room"
was as dark as the grave, and as poisonous as a charnel-house, and only
occasionally illumined by the glare of a "bull's-eye." But it is not my
intention to enter the domain of romance, and give highly coloured or
extravagant accounts of the growth of so beautiful and fascinating an
art-science. Photography is sufficiently facetious in itself, and too
versatile in its powers of delineation of scenes and character, to
require any verbose effort of mine to make it attractive. A record of
bare facts is all I aim at. Whatever is doubtful I shall leave to the
imagination of the reader, or the invention of the romance writer. To
arrange in chronological order the various discoveries, inventions, and
improvements that have made photography what it is; to do honour to
those who have toiled and given, or sold, the fruits of their labour for
the advancement of the art; to set at rest, as far as dates can succeed
in doing so, any questionable point or order of precedence of merit in
invention, application, or modification of a process, and to enable the
photographic student to make himself acquainted with the epochs of the
art, is the extent of my ambition in compiling these records.

With the hope of rendering this work readily referable and most
comprehensive, I shall divide it into four periods. The first will deal
broadly and briefly with such facts as can be ascertained that in any
way bear on the accidental discovery, early researches, and ultimate
success of the pioneers of photography.

The second will embrace a fuller description of their successes and
results. The third will be devoted to a consideration of patents and
impediments; and the fourth to the rise and development of photographic
literature and art. A strict chronological arrangement of each period
will be maintained, and it is hoped that the advantages to be derived
from travelling some of the same ground over again in the various
divisions of the subject will fully compensate the reader, and be
accepted as sufficient excuse for any unavoidable repetition that may
appear in the work. With these few remarks I shall at once enter upon
the task of placing before the reader in chronological order the origin,
rise, progress, and development of the science and art of photography.




FIRST PERIOD.

THE DARK AGES.


More than three hundred years have elapsed since the influence and
actinism of light on chloride of silver was observed by the alchemists
of the sixteenth century. This discovery was unquestionably the first
thing that suggested to the minds of succeeding chemists and men of
science the possibility of obtaining pictures of solid bodies on a plane
surface previously coated with a silver salt by means of the sun's rays;
but the alchemists were too much absorbed in their vain endeavours to
convert the base metals into royal ones to seize the hint, and they lost
the opportunity of turning the silver compounds with which they were
acquainted into the mine of wealth it eventually became in the
nineteenth century. Curiously enough, a mechanical invention of the same
period was afterwards employed, with a very trifling modification, for
the production of the earliest sun-pictures. This was the camera-obscura
invented by Roger Bacon in 1297, and improved by a physician in Padua,
Giovanni Baptista Porta, about 1500, and afterwards remodelled by Sir
Isaac Newton.

Two more centuries passed away before another step was taken towards the
revelation of the marvellous fact that Nature possessed within herself
the power to delineate her own beauties, and, as has recently been
proved, that the sun could depict his own terrible majesty with a
rapidity and fidelity the hand of man could never attain. The second
step towards this grand achievement of science was the construction of
the double achromatic combination of lenses by J. Dolland. With single
combinations of lenses, such pictures as we see of ourselves to-day, and
such portraits of the sun as the astronomers obtained during the late
total eclipse, could never have been produced. J. Dolland, the eminent
optician, was born in London 1706, and died 1762; and had he not made
that important improvement in the construction of lenses, the eminent
photographic opticians of the present day might have lived and died
unknown to wealth and fame.

The observations of the celebrated Swedish chemist, Scheele, formed the
next interesting link between the simple and general blackening of a
lump of chloride of silver, and the gradations of blackening which
ultimately produced the photographic picture on a piece of paper
possessing a prepared surface of nitrate of silver and chloride of
sodium in combination. Scheele discovered in 1777 that the blackening of
the silver compound was due to the reducing power of light, and that the
black deposit was _reduced silver_; and it is precisely the same effect
of the action of light upon chloride of silver passing through the
various densities of the negative that produces the beautiful
photographic prints with which we are all familiar at the present time.
Scheele was also the first to discover and make known the fact that
chloride of silver was blackened or reduced to various depths by the
varying action of the prismatic colours. He fixed a glass prism in a
window, allowed the refracted sunbeams to fall on a piece of paper
strewn with _luna cornua_--fused chloride of silver--and saw that the
violet ray was more active than any of the other colours. Anyone, with a
piece of sensitised paper and a prism, or piece of a broken lustre, can
repeat and see for themselves Scheele's interesting discovery; and
anyone that can draw a head or a flower may catch a sunbeam in a small
magnifying glass, and make a drawing on sensitised paper with a pencil,
as long as the sun is distant from the earth. It is the old story of
Columbus and the egg--easy to do when you are shown or told how.

Charles William Scheele was born at Stralsund, Sweden, December 19th,
1742, and died at Koeping, on lake Moeler, May 21st, 1786. He was the
real father of photography, for he produced the first photographic
picture on record without camera and without lens, with the same
chemical compound and the same beautiful and wonderful combination of
natural colours which we now employ. Little did he dream what was to
follow. But photography, like everything else in this world, is a
process of evolution.

Senebier followed up Scheele's experiments with the solar spectrum, and
ascertained that chloride of silver was darkened by the violet ray in
fifteen minutes, while the red rays were sluggish, and required twenty
minutes to produce the same result.

John Wm. Ritter, born at Samitz, in Silesia, corroborated the
experiments of Scheele, and discovered that chloride of silver was
blackened beyond the spectrum on the violet side. He died in 1810; but
he had observed what is now called the fluorescent rays of the
spectrum--invisible rays which unquestionably exert themselves in the
interests and practice of photography.

Many other experiments were made by other chemists and philosophers on
the influence of light on various substances, but none of them had any
direct bearing on the subject under consideration until Count Rumford,
in 1798, communicated to the Royal Society his experiments with chloride
of gold. Count Rumford wetted a piece of taffeta ribbon with a solution
of chloride of gold, held it horizontally over the clear flame of a wax
candle, and saw that the heat decomposed the gold solution, and stained
the ribbon a beautiful purple. Though no revived gold was visible, the
ribbon appeared to be coated with a rich purple enamel, which showed a
metallic lustre of great brilliancy when viewed in the sunlight; but its
photographic value lay in the circumstance of the hint it afterwards
afforded M. Fizeau in applying a solution of chloride of gold, and, by
means of heat, depositing a fine film of metallic gold on the surface of
the Daguerreotype image, thereby increasing the brilliancy and
permanency of that form of photographic picture. A modification of M.
Fizeau's chloride of gold "fixing process" is still used to tone, and
imparts a rich purple colour to photographic prints on plain and
albumenized papers.

In 1800, Dr. Herschel's "Memoirs on the Heating Power of the Solar
Spectrum" were published, and out of his observations on the various
effects of differently coloured darkening glasses arose the idea that
the chemical properties of the prismatic colours, and coloured glass,
might be as different as those which related to heat and light. His
suspicions were ultimately verified, and hence the use of yellow or ruby
glass in the windows of the "dark room," as either of those coloured
glasses admit the luminous ray and restrain the violet or active
photographic ray, and allow all the operations that would otherwise have
to be performed in the dark, to be seen and done in comfort, and without
injury to the sensitive film.

The researches of Dr. Wollaston, in 1802, had very little reference to
photography beyond his examination of the chemical action of the rays of
the spectrum, and his observation that the yellow stain of gum guaiacum
was converted to a green colour in the violet rays, and that the red
rays rapidly destroyed the green tint the violet rays had generated.

1802 is, however, a memorable year in the dark ages of photography, and
the disappointment of those enthusiastic and indefatigable pursuers of
the sunbeam must have been grievous indeed, when, after years of labour,
they found the means of catching shadows as they fell, and discovered
that they could not keep them.

Thomas Wedgwood, son of the celebrated potter, was not only the first
that obtained photographic impressions of objects, but the first to make
the attempt to obtain sun-pictures in the true sense of the word.
Scheele had obtained the first photographic picture of the solar
spectrum, but it was by accident, and while pursuing other chemical
experiments; whereas Wedgwood went to work avowedly to make the sunbeam
his slave, to enlist the sun into the service of art, and to compel the
sun to illustrate art, and to depict nature more faithfully than art had
ever imitated anything illumined by the sun before. How far he succeeded
everyone should know, and no student of photography should ever tire of
reading the first published account of his fascinating pastime or
delightful vocation, if it were but to remind him of the treasures that
surround him, and the value of hyposulphite of soda. What would Thomas
Wedgwood not have given for a handful of that now common commodity?
There is a mournfulness in the sentence relative to the evanescence of
those sun-pictures in the Memoir by Wedgwood and Davy that is peculiarly
impressive and desponding contrasted with our present notions of
instability. We know that sun-pictures will, at the least, last for
years, while they knew that at the most they would endure but for a few
hours. The following extracts from the Memoir published in June, 1802,
will, it is hoped, be found sufficiently interesting and in place here
to justify their insertion.

"White paper, or white leather moistened with solution of nitrate of
silver, undergoes no change when kept in a dark place, but on being
exposed to the daylight it speedily changes colour, and after passing
through different shades of grey and brown becomes at length nearly
black.... In the direct beams of the sun, two or three minutes are
sufficient to produce the full effect, in the shade several hours are
required, and light transmitted through different coloured glasses acts
upon it with different degrees of intensity. Thus it is found that red
rays, or the common sunbeams passed through red glass, have very little
action upon it; yellow and green are more efficacious, but blue and
violet light produce the most decided and powerful effects.... When the
shadow of any figure is thrown upon the prepared surface, the part
concealed by it remains white, and the other parts speedily become dark.
For copying paintings on glass, the solution should be applied on
leather, and in this case it is more readily acted on than when paper is
used. After the colour has been once fixed on the leather or paper, it
cannot be removed by the application of water, or water and soap, and it
is in a high degree permanent. The copy of a painting or the profile,
immediately after being taken, must be kept in an obscure place; it may
indeed be examined in the shade, but in this case the exposure should be
only for a few minutes; by the light of candles or lamps as commonly
employed it is not sensibly affected.

"No attempts that have been made to prevent the uncoloured parts of the
copy or profile from being acted upon by the light have as yet been
successful. They have been covered by a thin coating of fine varnish,
but this has not destroyed their susceptibility of becoming coloured,
and even after repeated washings, sufficient of the active part of the
saline matter will adhere to the white parts of leather or paper to
cause them to become dark when exposed to the rays of the sun....

"The images formed by means of a camera-obscura have been found to be too
faint to produce, in any moderate time, an effect upon the nitrate of
silver. To copy these images was the first object of Mr. Wedgwood, in
his researches on the subject, and for this purpose he first used the
nitrate of silver, which was mentioned to him by a friend, as a
substance very sensible to the influence of light; but all his numerous
experiments as to their primary end proved unsuccessful."

From the foregoing extracts from the first lecture on photography that
ever was delivered or published, it will be seen that those two eminent
philosophers and experimentalists despaired of obtaining pictures in the
camera-obscura, and of rendering the pictures obtained by superposition,
or cast shadows, in any degree permanent, and that they were utterly
ignorant and destitute of any fixing agents. No wonder, then, that all
further attempts to pursue these experiments should, for a time, be
abandoned in England. Although Thomas Wedgwood's discoveries were not
published until 1802, he obtained his first results in 1791, and does
not appear to have made any appreciable advance during the remainder of
his life. He was born in 1771, and died in 1805. Sir Humphry Davy was
born at Penzance 1778, and died at Geneva in 1828, so that neither of
them lived to see the realization of their hopes.

From the time that Wedgwood and Davy relinquished their investigation,
the subject appears to have lain dormant until 1814, when Joseph
Nicéphore Niépce, of Chalons-sur-Saône, commenced a series of experiments
with various resins, with the object of securing or retaining in a
permanent state the pictures produced in the camera-obscura, and in
1824, L. J. M. Daguerre turned his attention to the same subject. These
two investigators appear to have carried on their experiments in
different ways, and in total ignorance of the existence and pursuits of
the other, until the year 1826, when they accidentally became acquainted
with each other and the nature of their investigations. Their
introduction and reciprocal admiration did not, however, induce them to
exchange their ideas, or reveal the extent of their success in the
researches on which they were occupied, and which both were pursuing so
secretly and guardedly. They each preserved a marked reticence on the
subject for a considerable time, and it was not until a deed of
partnership was executed between them that they confided their hopes and
fears, their failures with this substance, and their prospects of
success with that; and even after the execution of the deed of
partnership they seem to have jealously withheld as much of their
knowledge as they decently could under the circumstances.

Towards the close of 1827 M. Niépce visited England, and we receive the
first intimation of his success in the production of light-drawn
pictures from a note addressed to Mr. Bauer, of Kew. It is rather
curious and flattering to find that the earliest intimation of the
Frenchman's success is given in England. The note which M. Niépce wrote
to Mr. Bauer is in French, but the following is a translation of the
interesting announcement:--"Kew, 19th November, 1827. Sir,--When I left
France to reside here, I was engaged in researches on the way to retain
the image of objects by the action of light. I have obtained some
results which make me eager to proceed.... Nicéphore Niépce." This is
the first recorded announcement of his partial success.

In the following December he communicated with the Royal Society of
London, and showed several pictures on metal plates. Most of these
pictures were specimens of his successful experiments with various
resins, and the subjects were rendered visible to the extent which the
light had assisted in hardening portions of the resin-covered plates.
Some were etchings, and had been subjected to the action of acid after
the design had been impressed by the action of light. Several of these
specimens, I believe, are still extant, and may be seen on application
to the proper official at the British Museum. M. Niépce named these
results of his researches Heliography, and Mr. Robert Hunt gives their
number, and a description of each subject, in his work entitled,
"Researches on Light." M. Niépce met with some disappointment in England
on account of the Royal Society refusing to receive his communication as
a secret, and he returned to France rather hurriedly. In a letter dated
"Chalons-sur-Saône, 1st March, 1828," he says, "We arrived here 26th
February"; and, in a letter written by Daguerre, February 3rd, 1828, we
find that savant consoling his brother experimentalist for his lack of
encouragement in England.

In December, 1829, the two French investigators joined issue by
executing a deed of co-partnery, in which they agreed to prosecute their
researches in future in mutual confidence and for their joint advantage;
but their interchange of thought and experience does not appear to have
been of much value or advantage to the other; for an examination of the
correspondence between MM. Niépce and Daguerre tends to show that the
one somewhat annoyed the other by sticking to his resins, and the other
one by recommending the use of iodine. M. Niépce somewhat ungraciously
expresses regret at having wasted so much time in experimenting with
iodine at M. Daguerre's suggestion, but ultimate results fully justified
Daguerre's recommendation, and proved that he was then on the right
track, while M. Niépce's experiments with resins, asphaltum, and
other substances terminated in nothing but tedious manipulations,
lengthy exposures, and unsatisfactory results. To M. Niépce, most
unquestionably, is due the honour of having produced the first permanent
sun-pictures, for we have seen that those obtained by Wedgwood and Davy
were as fleeting as a shadow, while those exhibited by M. Niépce in 1827
are still in their original condition, and, imperfect as they are, they
are likely to retain their permanency for ever. Their fault lay in
neither possessing beauty nor commercial applicability.

As M. Niépce died at Chalons-sur-Saône in 1833, and does not appear to
have improved his process much, if any, after entering into partnership
with M. Daguerre, and as I may not have occasion to allude to him or his
researches again, I think this will be the most fitting place to give a
brief description of his process, and his share in the labours of
bringing up the wonderful baby of science, afterwards named Photography,
to a safe and ineffaceable period of its existence.

The Heliographic process of M. Niépce consists of a solution of
asphaltum, bitumen of Judea, being spread on metal or glass plates,
submitted to the action of light either by superposition or in the
camera, and the unaffected parts dissolved away afterwards by means of a
suitable solvent. But, in case any student of photography should like to
produce one of the first form of permanent sun-pictures, I shall give
here the details of M. Niépce's own _modus operandi_ for preparing the
solution of bitumen and coating the plate:--

"I about half fill a wine-glass with this pulverised bitumen; I pour
upon it, drop by drop, the essential oil of lavender until the bitumen
is completely saturated. I afterwards add as much more of the essential
oil as causes the whole to stand about three lines above the mixture,
which is then covered and submitted to a gentle heat until the essential
oil is fully impregnated with the colouring matter of the bitumen. If
this varnish is not of the required consistency, it is to be allowed to
evaporate slowly, without heat, in a shallow dish, care being taken to
protect it from moisture, by which it is injured and at last decomposed.
In winter, or in rainy weather, the precaution is doubly necessary. A
tablet of plated silver, or well cleaned and warm glass, is to be highly
polished, on which a thin coating of the varnish is to be applied cold,
with a light roll of very soft skin; this will impart to it a fine
vermilion colour, and cover it with a very thin and equal coating. The
plate is then placed upon heated iron, which is wrapped round with
several folds of paper, from which, by this method, all moisture had
been previously expelled. When the varnish has ceased to simmer, the
plate is withdrawn from the heat, and left to cool and dry in a gentle
temperature, and protected from a damp atmosphere. In this part of the
operation a light disc of metal, with a handle in the centre, should be
held before the mouth, in order to condense the moisture of the breath."

In the foregoing description it will be observed how much importance M.
Niépce attached to the necessity of protecting the solution and prepared
plate from moisture, and that no precautions are given concerning the
effect of white light. It must be remembered, however, that the
material employed was very insensitive, requiring many hours of exposure
either in the camera or under a print or drawing placed in contact with
the prepared surface, and consequently such precaution might not have
been deemed necessary. Probably M. Niépce worked in a subdued light, but
there can be no doubt about the necessity of conducting both the
foregoing operations in yellow light. Had M. Niépce performed his
operations in a non-actinic light, the plates would certainly have been
more sensitive, and the unacted-on parts would have been more soluble;
thus rendering both the time of exposure and development more rapid.

After the plate was prepared and dried, it was exposed in the camera, or
by superposition, under a print, or other suitable subject, that would
lie flat. For the latter, an exposure of two or three hours in bright
sunshine was necessary, and the former required six or eight hours in a
strong light. Even those prolonged exposures did not produce a visible
image, and the resultant picture was not revealed to view until after a
tedious process of dissolving, for it could scarcely be called
development. M. Niépce himself says, "The next operation then is to
disengage the _shrouded_ imagery, and this is accomplished by a
solvent." The solvent consisted of one measure of the essential oil of
lavender and ten of oil of white petroleum or benzole. On removing the
tablet from the camera or other object, it was plunged into a bath of
the above solvent, and left there until the parts not hardened by light
were dissolved. When the picture was fully revealed, it was placed at an
angle to drain, and finished by washing it in water.

Except for the purpose of after-etching, M. Niépce's process was of
little commercial value then, but it has since been of some service in
the practice of photo-lithography. That, I think, is the fullest extent
of the commercial or artistic advantages derived from the utmost success
of M. Niépce's discoveries; but what he considered his failures, the
fact that he employed copper plates coated with silver for his
heliographic tablets, and endeavoured to darken the clean or clear parts
of the silvered plates with the fumes of iodine for the sake of contrast
only, may be safely accepted as the foundation of Daguerre's ultimate
success in discovering the extremely beautiful and workable process
known as the Daguerreotype.

M. Niépce appears to have done very little more towards perfecting the
heliographic process after joining Daguerre; but the latter effected
some improvements, and substituted for the bitumen of Judea the residuum
obtained by evaporating the essential oil of lavender, without, however,
attaining any important advance in that direction. After the death of M.
Nicéphore Niépce, a new agreement was entered into by his son, M.
Isidore Niépce, and M. Daguerre, and we must leave those two
experimentalists pursuing their discoveries in France while we return to
England to pick up the chronological links that unite the history of
this wonderful discovery with the time that it was abandoned by Wedgwood
and Davy, and the period of its startling and brilliant realization.

In 1834, Mr. Henry Fox Talbot, of Lacock Abbey, Wilts, "began to put in
practice," as he informs us in his memoir read before the Royal Society,
a method which _he_ "had _devised_ some time previously, for employing
to purposes of utility the very curious property which has been long
known to chemists to be possessed by the nitrate of silver--namely, to
discolouration when exposed to the violet rays of light." The statement
just quoted places us at once on the debateable ground of our subject,
and compels us to pause and consider to what extent photography is
indebted to Mr. Talbot for its further development at this period and
five years subsequently. In the first place, it is not to be supposed
for a moment that a man of Mr. Talbot's position and education could
possibly be ignorant of what had been done by Mr. Thomas Wedgwood and
Sir Humphry Davy. Their experiments were published in the Journal of
the Royal Institution of Great Britain in June, 1802, and Mr. Talbot or
some of his friends could not have failed to have seen or heard of those
published details; and, in the second place, a comparison between the
last records of Wedgwood and Davy's experiments, and the first published
details of Mr. Talbot's process, shows not only that the two processes
are identically the same, but that Mr. Talbot published his process
before he had made a single step in advance of Wedgwood and Davy's
discoveries; and that his fixing solution was not a fixer at all, but
simply a retardant that delayed the gradual disappearance of the picture
only a short time longer. Mr. Talbot has generally been credited with
the honour of producing the first permanent sun-pictures on paper; but
there are grave reasons for doubting the justice of that honour being
entirely, if at all, due to him, and the following facts and extracts
will probably tend to set that question at rest, and transfer the laurel
to another brow.

To the late Rev. J. B. Reade is incontestably due the honour of having
first applied tannin as an accelerator, and hyposulphite of soda as a
fixing agent, to the production and retention of light-produced
pictures; and having first obtained an ineffaceable photograph upon
paper. Mr. Talbot's gallate of silver process was not patented or
published till 1841; whereas the Rev. J. B. Reade produced paper
negatives by means of gallic acid and nitrate of silver in 1837. It will
be remembered that Mr. Wedgwood had discovered and stated that the
chloride of silver was more sensitive when applied to white leather, and
Mr. Reade, by inductive reasoning, came to the conclusion that tanned
paper and silver would be more sensitive to light than ordinary paper
coated with nitrate of silver could possibly be. As the reverend
philosopher's ideas on that subject are probably the first that ever
impregnated the mind of man, and as his experiments and observations are
the very earliest in the pursuit of a gallic acid accelerator and
developer, I will give them in his own words.--"No one can dispute my
claim to be the first to suggest the use of gallic acid as a sensitiser
for prepared paper, and hyposulphite of soda as a fixer. These are the
keystones of the arch at which Davy and Young had laboured--or, as I may
say in the language of another science, we may vary the tones as we
please, but here is the fundamental base. My use of gallate of silver
was the result of an inference from Wedgwood's experiments with leather,
'which is more readily acted upon than paper' (_Journal of the Royal
Institution_, vol. i., p. 171). Mrs. Reade was so good as to give me a
pair of light-coloured leather gloves, that I might repeat Wedgwood's
experiment, and, as my friend Mr. Ackerman reminds me, her little
objection to let me have a second pair led me to say, 'Then I will tan
paper.' Accordingly I used an infusion of galls in the first instance in
the early part of the year 1837, when I was engaged in taking
photographs of microscopic objects. By a new arrangement of lenses in
the solar microscope, I produced a convergence of the rays of light,
while the rays of heat, owing to their different refractions, were
parallel or divergent. This fortunate dispersion of the calorific rays
enabled me to use objects mounted in balsam, as well as cemented
achromatic object glasses; and, indeed, such was the coolness of the
illumination, that even _infusoria_ in single drops of water were
perfectly happy and playful (_vide_ abstracts of the 'Philosophical
Transactions,' December 22nd, 1836). The continued expense of an
artist--though, at first, I employed my friend, Lens Aldons--to copy the
pictures on the screen was out of the question. I therefore fell back,
but without any sanguine expectations as to the result, upon the
photographic process adopted by Wedgwood, with which I happened to be
well acquainted. It was a _weary while_, however, before any
satisfactory impression was made, either on chloride or nitrate paper. I
succeeded better with the leather; but my fortunate inability to
replenish the little stock of this latter article induced me to apply
the tannin solution to paper, and thus I was at once placed, by a very
decided step, in advance of earlier experimenters, and I had the
pleasure of succeeding where Talbot acknowledges that he failed.

"Naturally enough, the solution which I used at first was too strong,
but, if you have ever been in what I may call _the agony of a find_, you
can conceive my sensations on witnessing the unwilling paper become in a
few seconds almost as black as my hat. There was just a passing glimpse
of outline, 'and in a moment all was dark.' It was evident, however,
that I was in possession of all, and more than all, I wanted, and that
the dilution of so powerful an accelerator would probably give
successful results. The large amount of dilution greatly surprised me;
and, indeed, before I obtained a satisfactory picture, the quantity of
gallic acid in the infusion must have been quite homoeopathic; but
this is in exact accordance with modern practice and known laws. In
reference to this point, Sir John Herschel, writing from Slough, in
April, 1840, says to Mr. Redman, then of Peckham (where I had resided),
'I am surprised at the weak solution employed, and how, with such, you
have been able to get a depth of shadow sufficient for so very sharp a
re-transfer is to me marvellous.' I may speak of Mr. Redmond as a
photographic pupil of mine, and at my request, he communicated the
process to Sir John, which, 'on account of the extreme clearness and
sharpness of the results,' to use Sir John's words, much interested him.

"Dr. Diamond also, whose labours are universally appreciated, first saw
my early attempts at Peckham in 1837, and heard of my use of gallate of
silver, and was thus led to adopt what Admiral Smyth then called 'a
quick mode of taking bad pictures'; but, as I told the Admiral in reply,
he was born a _baby_. Whether our philosophical baby is 'out of its
teens' may be a question; at all events, it is a very fine child, and
handles the pencil of nature with consummate skill.

"But of all the persons who heard of my new accelerator, it is most
important to state that my old and valued friend, the late Andrew Ross,
told Mr. Talbot how first of all, by means of the solar microscope, I
threw the image of the object on prepared paper, and then, while the
paper was yet wet, washed it over with the infusion of galls, when a
sufficiently dense negative was quickly obtained. In the celebrated
trial, "Talbot _versus_ Laroche," Mr. Talbot, in his cross-examination,
and in an almost breathless court, acknowledged that he had received
this information from Ross, and from that moment it became the
unavoidable impression that he was scarcely justified in taking out a
patent for applying my accelerator to any known photogenic paper.

"The three known papers were those impregnated with the nitrate,
chloride, and the iodide of silver--the two former used by Wedgwood and
Young, and the latter by Davy. It is true that Talbot says of the iodide
of silver that it is quite insensitive to light, and so it is as he
makes it; but when he reduces it to the condition described by
Davy--viz., affected by the presence of a little free nitrate of
silver--then he must acknowledge, with Davy, that 'it is far more
sensitive to the action of light than either the nitrate or the muriate,
and is evidently a distinct compound.' In this state, also, the infusion
of galls or gallic acid is, as we all know, most decided and
instantaneous, and so I found it to be in my early experiments. Of
course I tried the effects of my accelerator on many salts of silver,
but especially upon the iodide, in consequence of my knowledge of Davy's
papers on iodine in the 'Philosophical Transactions.' These I had
previously studied, in conjunction with my chemical friend, Mr. Hodgson,
then of Apothecaries' Hall. I did not, however, use iodised paper, which
is well described by Talbot in the _Philosophical Magazine_ for March,
1838, as a _substitute_ for other sensitive papers, but only as one
among many experiments alluded to in my letter to Mr. Brayley.

"My pictures were exhibited at the Royal Society, and also at Lord
Northampton's, at his lordship's request, in April, 1839, when Mr.
Talbot also exhibited his. In my letter to Mr. Brayley, I did not
describe iodised pictures, and, therefore, it was held that exhibition
in the absence of description left the process legally unknown. Mr.
Talbot consequently felt justified in taking out a patent for uniting my
_known_ accelerator with Davy's _known_ sensitive silver compound,
adopting my method (already communicated to him) with reference to
Wedgwood's papers, and adding specific improvements in manipulation.
Whatever varied opinion may consequently be formed as to the defence of
the patent in court, there can be but one as to the skill of the
patentee.

"It is obvious that, in the process so conducted by me with the solar
microscope, I was virtually _within_ my camera, standing between the
object and the prepared paper. Hence the exciting and developing
processes were conducted under _one operation_ (subsequently patented by
Talbot), and the fact of a latent image being brought out was not forced
upon my attention. I did, however, perceive this phenomenon upon one
occasion, after I had been suddenly called away, when taking an
impression of the _Trientalis Europæa_--and surprised enough I was, and
stood in astonishment to look at it. But with all this, I was only, as
the judge said, "_very hot_." I did not realize the _master fact_ that
the latent image which had been developed was the basis of photographic
manipulation. The merit of this discovery is Talbot's, and his only, and
I honour him greatly for his skill and earlier discernment. I was,
indeed, myself fully aware that the image darkened under the influence
of my sensitiser, while I placed my hand before the lens of the
instrument to stop out the light; and my solar mezzotint, as I then
termed it, was, in fact, brought out and perfected under my own eye by
the agency of gallic acid in the infusion, rather than by the influence
of direct solar action. But the notion of developing a latent image in
these microscopic photographs never crossed my mind, even after I had
witnessed such development in the _Trientalis Europæa_. My original
notion was that the infusion of galls, added to the wet chloride or
nitrate paper while the picture was thrown upon it, produced only a new
and highly sensitive compound; whereas, by its peculiar and continuous
action after the first impact of light on the now sensitive paper, I was
also, as Talbot has shown, employing its property of development as well
as excitement. My ignorance of its properties was no bar to its action.
However, I threw the _ball_, and Talbot caught it, and no man can be
more willing than myself to acknowledge our obligations to this
distinguished photographer. He compelled the world to listen to him, and
he had something worth hearing to communicate; and it is a sufficient
return to me that he publicly acknowledged his obligation to me, with
reference to what Sir David Brewster calls 'an essential part of his
patent' (_vide North British Review_, No. 14 article--'Photography').

"Talbot did not patent my valuable fixer. Here I had the advantage of
having published my use of hyposulphite of soda, which Mr. Hodgson made
for me in 1837, when London did not contain an ounce of it for sale. The
early operators had no fixer; that was _their fix_; and, so far as any
record exists, they got no further in this direction than 'imagining
some experiments on the subject!' I tried ammonia, but it acted too
energetically on the picture itself to be available for the purpose. It
led me, however, to the ammonia nitrate process of printing positives, a
description of which process (though patented by Talbot in 1843) I sent
to a photographic brother in 1839, and a quotation from my letter of
that date has already appeared in one of my communications to _Notes and
Queries_. On examining Brande's Chemistry, under the hope of still
finding the desired solvent which should have a greater affinity for the
simple silver compound on the uncoloured part of the picture than for
the portion blackened by light, I happened to see it stated, on Sir John
Herschel's authority, that hyposulphite of soda dissolves chloride of
silver. I need not now say that I used this fixer with success. The
world, however, would not have been long without it, for, when Sir John
himself became a photographer in the following year, he first of all
used hyposulphite of ammonia, and then permanently fell back upon the
properties of his other compound. Two of my solar microscope negatives,
taken in 1837, and exhibited with several others by Mr. Brayley in 1839
as illustrations of my letter and of his lecture at the London
Institution, are now in the possession of the London Photographic
Society. They are, no doubt, the earliest examples of the agency of two
chemical compounds which will be co-existent with photography itself,
viz., gallate of silver and hyposulphite of soda, and my use of them, as
above described, will sanction my claim to be the first to take paper
pictures rapidly, and to fix them permanently.

"Such is a short account of my contribution to this interesting branch
of science, and, in the pleasure of the discovery, I have a sufficient
reward."

These lengthy extracts from the Rev. Mr. Reade's published letter render
further comment all but superfluous, but I cannot resist taking
advantage of the opportunity here afforded of pointing out to all lovers
of photography and natural justice that the progress of the discovery
has advanced to a far greater extent by Mr. Reade's reasoning and
experiments than it was by Mr. Talbot's ingenuity. The latter, as Mr.
Reade observes, only "caught the ball" and threw it into the Patent
Office, with some improvements in the manipulations. Mr. Reade
generously ascribes all honour and glory to Mr. Talbot for his
shrewdness in seizing what he had overlooked, viz., the development of
the latent image; but there is a quiet current of rebuke running all
through Mr. Reade's letter about the justice of patenting a known
sensitiser and a known accelerator, which he alone had combined and
applied to the successful production of a negative on paper. Mr.
Talbot's patent process was nothing more, yet he endeavoured to secure
a monopoly of what was in substance the discovery and invention of
another. Mr. Talbot was either very precipitate, or ill-advised, to rush
to the Patent Office with his modification, and even at this distant
date it is much to be regretted that he did so, for his rash act has,
unhappily for photography, proved a pernicious precedent. Mr. Reade gave
his discoveries to the world freely, and the "pleasure of the discovery"
was "a sufficient reward." All honour to such discoverers. They, and
they only, are the true lovers of science and art, who take up the torch
where another laid it down, or lost it, and carry it forward another
stage towards perfection, without sullying its brightness or dimming the
flame with sordid motives.

The Rev. J. B. Reade lived to see the process _he_ discovered and
watched over in its embryo state, developed with wondrous rapidity into
one of the most extensively applied arts of this marvellous age, and
died, regretted and esteemed by all who knew him, December 12th, 1870.
Photographers, your occupations are his monument, but let his name be a
tablet on your hearts, and his unselfishness your emulation!

The year 1838 gave birth to another photographic discovery, little
thought of and of small promise at the time, but out of which have
flowed all the various modifications of solar and mechanical carbon
printing. This was the discovery of Mr. Mungo Ponton, who first observed
and announced the effects of the sun's rays upon bichromate of potash.
But that gentleman was unwise in his generation, and did not patent his
discovery, so a whole host of patent locusts fell upon the field of
research in after years, and quickly seized the manna he had left, to
spread on their own bread. Mr. Mungo Ponton spread a solution of
bichromate of potash upon paper, submitted it under a suitable object to
the sun's rays, and told all the world, without charge, that the light
hardened the bichromate to the extent of its action, and that the
unacted-upon portions could be dissolved away, leaving the object
_white_ upon a yellow or orange ground. Other experimenters played
variations on Mr. Ponton's bichromate scale, and amongst the performers
were M. E. Becquerel, of France, and our own distinguished countryman,
Mr. Robert Hunt.

During the years that elapsed between the death of M. Niépce and the
period to which I have brought these records, little was heard or known
of the researches of M. Daguerre, but he was not idle, nor had he
abandoned his iodine ideas. He steadily pursued his subject, and worked
with a continuity that gained him the unenviable reputation of a
lunatic. His persistency created doubts of his sanity, but he toiled on
_solus_, confident that he was not in pursuit of an impossibility, and
sanguine of success. That success came, hastened by lucky chance, and
early in January, 1839, M. Daguerre announced the interesting and
important fact that the problem was solved. Pictures in the
camera-obscura could be, not only seen, but caught and retained. M.
Daguerre had laboured, sought, and found, and the bare announcement of
his wonderful discovery electrified the world of science.

The electric telegraph could not then flash the fascinating intelligence
from Paris to London, but the news travelled fast, nevertheless, and the
unexpected report of M. Daguerre's triumph hurried Mr. Talbot forward
with a similar statement of success. Mr. Talbot declared his triumph on
the 31st of January, 1839, and published in the following month the
details of a process which was little, if any, in advance of that
already known.

Daguerre delayed the publication of his process until a pension of six
thousand francs per annum had been secured to himself, and four thousand
francs per annum to M. Isidore Niépce for life, with a reversion of
one-half to their widows. In the midst of political and social struggles
France was proud of the glory of such a marvellous discovery, and
liberally rewarded her fortunate sons of science with honourable
distinction and substantial emolument. She was proud and generous to a
chivalrous extent, for she pensioned her sons that she might have the
"glory of endowing the world of science and of art with one of the most
surprising discoveries" that had been made on her soil; and, because she
considered that "the invention did not admit of being secured by
patent;" but avarice and cupidity frustrated her noble and generous
intentions in this country, and England alone was harassed with
injunctions and prosecutions, while all the rest of the world
participated in the pleasure and profits of the noble gift of France.

In July, 1839, M. Daguerre divulged his secret at the request and
expense of the French Government, and the process which bore his name
was found to be totally different, both in manipulation and effect, from
any sun-pictures that had been obtained in England. The Daguerreotype
was a latent image produced by light on an iodised silver plate, and
developed, or made visible, by the fumes of mercury; but the resultant
picture was one of the most shimmering and vapoury imaginable, wanting
in solidity, colour, and firmness. In fact, photography as introduced by
M. Daguerre was in every sense a wonderfully shadowy and all but
invisible thing, and not many removes from the dark ages of its
creation. The process was extremely delicate and difficult, slow and
tedious to manipulate, and too insensitive to be applied to portraiture
with any prospect of success, from fifteen to twenty minutes' exposure
in bright sunshine being necessary to obtain a picture. The mode of
proceeding was as follows:--A copper plate with a coating of silver was
carefully cleaned and polished on the silvered side, that was placed,
silver side downwards, over a vessel containing iodine in crystals,
until the silvered surface assumed a golden-yellow colour. The plate was
then transferred to the camera-obscura, and submitted to the action of
light. After the plate had received the requisite amount of exposure, it
was placed over a box containing mercury, the fumes of which, on the
application of a gentle heat, developed the latent image. The picture
was then washed in salt and water, or a solution of hyposulphite of
soda, to remove the iodide of silver, washed in clean water afterwards,
and dried, and the Daguerreotype was finished according to Daguerre's
first published process.

The development of the latent image by mercury subliming was the most
marvellous and unlooked-for part of the process, and it was for that
all-important thing that Daguerre was entirely indebted to chance.
Having put one of his apparently useless iodized and exposed silver
plates into a cupboard containing a pot of mercury, Daguerre was greatly
surprised, on visiting the cupboard some time afterwards, to find the
blank looking plate converted into a visible picture. Other plates were
iodized and exposed and placed in the cupboard, and the same mysterious
process of development was repeated, and it was not until this thing and
the other thing had been removed and replaced over and over again, that
Daguerre became aware that quicksilver, an article that had been used
for making mirrors and reflecting images for years, was the developer of
the invisible image. It was indeed a most marvellous and unexpected
result. Daguerre had devoted years of labour and made numberless
experiments to obtain a transcript of nature drawn by her own hand, but
all his studied efforts and weary hours of labour had only resulted in
repeated failures and disappointments, and it appeared that Nature
herself had grown weary of his bungling, and resolved to show him the
way.

The realization of his hopes was more accidental than inferential. The
compounds with which he worked, neither produced a visible nor a latent
image capable of being developed with any of the chemicals with which he
was experimenting. At last accident rendered him more service than
reasoning, and occult properties produced the effect his mental and
inductive faculties failed to accomplish; and here we observe the great
difference between the two successful discoverers, Reade and Daguerre.
At this stage of the discovery I ignore Talbot's claim in _toto_. Reade
arrived at his results by reasoning, experiment, observation, and
judiciously weakening and controlling the re-agent he commenced his
researches with. He had the infinite pleasure and disappointment of
seeing his first picture flash into existence, and disappear again
almost instantly, but in that instant he saw the cause of his success
and failure, and his inductive reasoning reduced his failure to success;
whereas Daguerre _found_ his result, was puzzled, and utterly at a loss
to account for it, and it was only by a process of blind-man's bluff in
his chemical cupboard that he laid his hands on the precious pot of
mercury that produced the visible image.

That was a discovery, it is true; but a bungling one, at best. Daguerre
only worked intelligently with one-half of the elements of success; the
other was thrust in his way, and the most essential part of his
achievement was a triumphant accident. Daguerre did half the work--or,
rather, one-third--light did the second part, and chance performed the
rest, so that Daguerre's share of the honour was only one-third. Reade
did two-thirds of the process, the first and third, intelligently;
therefore to him alone is due the honour of discovering practical
photography. His was a successful application of known properties, equal
to an invention; Daguerre's was an accidental result arising from
unknown causes and effects, and consequently a discovery of the lowest
order. To England, then, and not to France, is the world indebted for
the discovery of photography, and in the order of its earliest,
greatest, and most successful discoverers and advancers, I place the
Rev. J. B. Reade first and highest.


  [Illustration: SECOND PERIOD.

  DAGUERREOTYPE.

  L. J. M. DAGUERRE.
  _Used Iodine, 1839._

  JOHN FREDERICK GODDARD.
  _Applied Bromine, 1840._

  NEW YORK.
  _Copy of Instantaneous Daguerreotype, 1854._]




SECOND PERIOD.

PUBLICITY AND PROGRESS.


1839 has generally been accepted as the year of the birth of Practical
Photography, but that may now be considered an error. It was, however,
the Year of Publicity, and the progress that followed with such
marvellous rapidity may be freely received as an adversely eloquent
comment on the principles of secrecy and restriction, in any art or
science, like photography, which requires the varied suggestions of
numerous minds and many years of experiment in different directions
before it can be brought to a state of workable certainty and artistic
and commercial applicability. Had Reade concealed his success and the
nature of his accelerator, Talbot might have been bungling on with
modifications of the experiments of Wedgwood and Davy to this day; and
had Daguerre not sold the secret of his iodine vapour as a sensitiser,
and his accidentally discovered property of mercury as a developer, he
might never have got beyond the vapoury images he produced. As it was,
Daguerre did little or nothing to improve his process and make it yield
the extremely vigorous and beautiful results it did in after years. As
in Mr. Reade's case with the Calotype process, Daguerre threw the ball
and others caught it. Daguerre's advertised improvements of his process
were lamentable failures and roundabout ways to obtain sensitive
amalgams--exceedingly ingenious, but excessively bungling and
impractical. To make the plates more sensitive to light, and, as
Daguerre said, obtain pictures of objects in motion and animated scenes,
he suggested that the silver plate should first be cleaned and polished
in the usual way, then to deposit successively layers of mercury, and
gold, and platinum. But the process was so tedious, unworkable, and
unsatisfactory, no one ever attempted to employ it either commercially
or scientifically. In publishing his first process, with its working
details, Daguerre appears to have surrendered all that he knew, and to
have been incapable of carrying his discovery to a higher degree of
advancement. Without Mr. Goddard's bromine accelerator and M. Fizeau's
chloride of gold fixer and invigorator, the Daguerreotype would never
have been either a commercial success or a permanent production.

1840 was almost as important a period in the annals of photography as
the year of its enunciation, and to the two valuable improvements and
one interesting importation, the Daguerreotype process was indebted for
its success all over the world; and photography, even as it is practised
now, is probably indebted for its present state of advancement to Mr.
John Frederick Goddard, who applied bromine, as an accelerator, to the
Daguerreotype process this year. In the early part of the Daguerreotype
period it was so insensitive there was very little prospect of being
able to take portraits with it through a lens. To meet this difficulty
Mr. Wolcott, an American optician, constructed a reflecting camera and
brought it to London. It was an ingenious contrivance, but did not fully
answer the expectations of the inventor. It certainly did not require
such a long exposure with this camera as when the rays from the image or
sitter passed through a lens; but, as the sensitised plate was placed
_between_ the sitter and the reflector, the picture was necessarily
small, and neither very sharp nor satisfactory. This was a mechanical
contrivance to shorten the time of exposure, which partially succeeded,
but it was chemistry, and not mechanics, that effected the desirable
result. Both Mr. Goddard and M. Antoine F. J. Claudet, of London,
employed chlorine as a means of increasing the sensitiveness of the
iodised silver plate, but it was not sufficiently accelerative to meet
the requirements of the Daguerreotype process. Subsequently Mr. Goddard
discovered that the vapour of bromine, added to that of iodine, imparted
an extraordinary degree of sensitiveness to the prepared plate, and
reduced the time of sitting from minutes to seconds. The addition of the
fumes of bromine to those of iodine formed a compound of bromo-iodide of
silver on the surface of the Daguerreotype plate, and not only increased
the sensitiveness, but added to the strength and beauty of the resulting
picture, and M. Fizeau's method of precipitating a film of gold over the
whole surface of the plate still further increased the brilliancy of the
picture and ensured its permanency. I have many Daguerreotypes in my
possession now that were made over forty years ago, and they are as
brilliant and perfect as they were on the day they were taken. I fear no
one can say the same for any of Fox Talbot's early prints, or even more
recent examples of silver printing.

Another important event of this year was the importation of the first
photographic lens, camera, &c., into England. These articles were
brought from Paris by Sir Hussey Vivian, present M.P. for Glamorganshire
(1889). It was the first lot of such articles that the Custom House
officers had seen, and they were at a loss to know how to classify it.
Finally they passed it under the general head of Optical Instruments.
Sir Hussey told me this, himself, several years before he was made a
baronet. What changes fifty years have wrought even in the duties of
Custom House officers, for the imports and exports of photographic
apparatus and materials must now amount to many thousands per annum!

Having described the conditions and state of progress photography had
attained at the time of my first contact with it, I think I may now
enter into greater details, and relate my own personal experiences from
this period right up to the end of its jubilee celebration.

I was just fourteen years old when photography was made practicable by
the publication of the two processes, one by Daguerre, and the other by
Fox Talbot, and when I heard or read of the wonderful discovery I was
fired with a desire to obtain a sight of these "sun-pictures," but the
fire was kept smouldering for some time before my desire was gratified.
Nothing travelled very fast in those days. Railroads had not long been
started, and were not very extensively developed. Telegraphy, by
electricity, was almost unknown, and I was a fixture, having just been
apprenticed to an engraving firm hundreds of miles from London. But at
last I caught sight of one of those marvellous drawings made by the sun
in the window of the Post Office of my native town. It was a small
Daguerreotype which had been sent there along with a notice that a
licence to practise the "art" could be obtained of the patentee. I
forget now what amount the patentee demanded for a licence, but I know
that at the time referred to it was so far beyond my means and hopes
that I never entertained the idea of becoming a licencee. I believe some
one in the neighbourhood bought a licence, but either could not or did
not make use of it commercially.

Some time after that, a Miss Wigley, from London, came to the town to
practise Daguerreotyping, but she did not remain long, and could not, I
think, have made a profitable visit. If so, it could scarcely be
wondered at, for the sun-pictures of that period were such thin,
shimmering reflections, and distortions of the human face divine, that
very few people were impressed either by the process or the newest
wonder of the world. At that early period of photography, the plates
were so insensitive, the sittings so long, and the conditions so
terrible, it was not easy to induce anyone either to undergo the ordeal
of sitting, or to pay the sum of twenty-one shillings for a very small
and unsatisfactory portrait. In the infancy of the Daguerreotype
process, the sitters were all placed out-of-doors, in direct sunshine,
which naturally made them screw up or shut their eyes, and every feature
glistened, and was painfully revealed. Many amusing stories have been
told about the trials, mishaps, and disappointments attending those
long and painful sittings, but the best that ever came to my knowledge
was the following. In the earliest of the forties, a young lady
went a considerable distance, in Yorkshire, to sit to an itinerant
Daguerreotypist for her portrait, and, being limited for time,
could only give one sitting. She was placed before the camera, the
slide drawn, lens uncapped, and requested to sit there until the
Daguerreotypist returned. He went away, probably to put his "mercury
box" in order, or to have a smoke, for it was irksome--both to sitter
and operator--to sit or stand doing nothing during those necessarily
long exposures. When the operator returned, after an absence of fifteen
or twenty minutes, the lady was sitting where he left her, and appeared
glad to be relieved from her constrained position. She departed, and he
proceeded with the development of the picture. The plate was examined
from time to time, in the usual way, but there was no appearance of the
lady. The ground, the wall, and the chair whereon she sat, were all
visible, but the image of the lady was not; and the operator was
completely puzzled, if not alarmed. He left the lady sitting, and found
her sitting when he returned, so he was quite unable to account for her
mysterious non-appearance in the picture. The mystery was, however,
explained in a few days, when the lady called for her portrait, for she
admitted that she got up and walked about as soon as he left her, and
only sat down again when she heard him returning. The necessity of
remaining before the camera was not recognised by that sitter. I
afterwards reversed that result myself by focussing the chair, drawing
the slide, uncapping the lens, sitting down, and rising leisurely to cap
the lens again, and obtained a good portrait without showing a ghost of
the chair or anything else. The foregoing is evidence of the
insensitiveness of the plates at that early period of the practice of
photography; but that state of inertion did not continue long, for as
soon as the accelerating properties of bromine became generally known,
the time of sitting was greatly reduced, and good Daguerreotype views
were obtained by simply uncapping the lens as quickly as possible. I
have taken excellent views in that manner myself in England, and, when
in America, I obtained instantaneous views of Niagara Falls and other
places quite as rapidly and as perfect as any instantaneous views made
on gelatine dry plates, one of which I have copied and enlarged to 12 by
10 inches, and may possibly reproduce the small copy in these pages.

In 1845 I came into direct contact with photography for the first time.
It was in that year that an Irishman named McGhee came into the
neighbourhood to practise the Daguerreotype process. He was not a
licencee, but no one appeared to interfere with him, nor serve him with
an injunction, for he carried on his little portrait business for a
considerable time without molestation. The patentee was either very
indifferent to his vested interests, or did not consider these intruders
worth going to law with, for there were many raids across the borders by
camera men in those early days. Several circumstances combined to
facilitate the inroads of Scotch operators into the northern counties of
England. Firstly, the patent laws of England did not extend to Scotland
at that time, so there was a far greater number of Daguerreotypists in
Edinburgh and other Scotch towns in the early days of photography than
in any part of England, and many of them made frequent incursions into
the forbidden land without troubling themselves about obtaining a
licence, but somehow they never remained long at a time; they were
either afraid of consequences, or did not meet with patronage
sufficient to induce them to continue their sojourns beyond a few of the
summer weeks. For many years most of the early Daguerreotypists were
birds of passage, frequently on the wing. Among the earliest settlers in
London, were Mr. Beard (patentee), Mr. Claudet, and Mr. J. E.
Mayall--the latter is still alive, 1889--and in Edinburgh, Messrs. Ross
and Thompson, Mr. Howie, Mr. Poppawitz, and Mr. Tunny--the latter was a
Calotypist--with most of whom it was my good fortune to become
personally acquainted in after years.

Secondly, a great deal of ill-feeling and annoyance were caused by the
incomprehensible and somewhat underhanded way in which the English
patent was obtained, and these feelings induced many to poach on
photographic preserves, and even to defy injunctions; and, while
lawsuits were pending, it was not uncommon for non-licencees to practise
the new art with the impunity and feelings common to smugglers. Mr.
Beard, the English patentee, brought many actions at law against
infringers of his patent rights, the most memorable of which was that
where Mr. Egerton, 1, Temple Street, Whitefriars, the first dealer in
photographic materials, and agent for Voightlander's lenses in London,
was the defendant. During that trial it came out in evidence that the
patentee had earned as much as forty thousand pounds in one year by
taking portraits and fees from licencees. Though the judgment of the
Court was adverse to Mr. Egerton, it did not improve the patentee's
moral right to his claim, for the trial only made it all the more public
that the French Government had allowed M. Daguerre six thousand francs
(£240), and M. Isidore Niépce four thousand francs (£160) per annum, on
condition that their discoveries should be published, and _made free to
all the world_. This trial did not in any way improve Mr. Beard's
financial position, for eventually he became a bankrupt, and his
establishments in King William Street, London Bridge, and the
Polytechnic Institute, in Regent Street, were extinguished. Mr. Beard,
who was the first to practise Daguerreotyping commercially in this
country, was originally a coal merchant. I think Mr. Claudet practised
the process in London without becoming a licencee, either through
previous knowledge, or some private arrangement made with Daguerre
before the patent was granted to Mr. Beard. It was while photography was
clouded with this atmosphere of dissatisfaction and litigation, that I
made my first practical acquaintance with it in the following manner:--

Being anxious to obtain possession of one of those marvellous
sun-pictures, and hoping to get an idea of the manner in which they
were produced, I paid a visit, one sunny morning, to Mr. McGhee, the
Daguerreotypist, dressed in my best, with clean shirt, and stiff
stand-up collar, as worn in those days. I was a very young man then, and
rather particular about the set of my shirt collar, so you may readily
judge of my horror when, after making the financial arrangements to the
satisfaction of Mr. McGhee, he requested me to put on a blue cotton
_quasi_ clean "dickey," with a limp collar, that had evidently done
similar duty many times before. You may be sure I protested, and
inquired the reason why I should cover up my white shirt front with such
an objectionable article. I was told if I did not put it on my shirt
front would be _solarized_, and come out _blue_ or dirty, whereas if I
put on the blue "dickey" my shirt front would appear white and clean.
What "solarized" meant, I did not know, nor was it further explained,
but, as I very naturally wished to appear with a clean shirt front, I
submitted to the indignity, and put on the limp and questionably clean
"dickey." While the Daguerreotypist was engaged with some mysterious
manipulations in a cupboard or closet, I brushed my hair, and
contemplated my singular appearance in the mirror somewhat ruefully. O,
ye sitters and operators of to-day! congratulate yourselves on the
changes and advantages that have been wrought in the practice of
photography since then. When Mr. McGhee appeared again with something
like two wooden books in his hand, he requested me to follow him into
the garden; which was only a back yard. At the foot of the garden, and
against a brick wall with a piece of grey cloth nailed over it, I was
requested to sit down on an old chair; then he placed before me an
instrument which looked like a very ugly theodolite on a tripod
stand--that was my first sight of a camera--and, after putting his head
under a black cloth, told me to look at a mark on the other side of the
garden, without winking or moving till he said "done." How long I sat I
don't know, but it seemed an awfully long time, and I have no doubt it
was, for I know that I used to ask people to sit five and ten minutes,
afterwards. The sittings over, I was requested to re-enter the house,
and then I thought I would see something of the process; but no. Again
Mr. McGhee went into the mysterious chamber, and shut the door quickly.
In a little time he returned and told me that the sittings were
satisfactory--he had taken two--and that he would finish and deliver
them next day. Then I left without obtaining the ghost of an idea of the
_modus operandi_ of producing portraits by the sun, beyond the fact that
a camera had been placed before me. Next day the portraits were
delivered according to promise, but I confess I was somewhat
disappointed at getting so little for my money. It was a very small
picture that could not be seen in every light, and not particularly like
myself, but a scowling-looking individual, with a limp collar, and
rather dirty-looking face. Whatever would _mashers_ have said or done,
if they had gone to be photographed in those days of photographic
darkness? I was, however, somewhat consoled by the thought that I, at
last, possessed one of those wonderful sun-pictures, though I was
ignorant of the means of production.

Soon after having my portrait taken, Mr. McGhee disappeared, and there
was no one left in the neighbourhood who knew anything of the
mysterious manipulations of Daguerreotyping. I had, nevertheless,
resolved to possess an apparatus and obtain the necessary information,
but there was no one to tell me what to buy, where to buy it, nor what
to do with it. At last an old friend of mine who had been on a visit to
Edinburgh, had purchased an apparatus and some materials with the view
of taking Daguerreotypes himself, but finding that he could not, was
willing to sell it to me, though he could not tell me how to use it,
beyond showing me an image of the house opposite upon the ground glass
of the camera. I believe my friend let me have the apparatus for what it
cost him, which was about £15, and it consisted of a quarter-plate
portrait lens by Slater, mahogany camera, tripod stand, buff sticks,
coating and mercury boxes of the roughest description, a few chemicals
and silvered plates, and a rather singular but portable dark room. Of
the uses of the chemicals I knew very little, and of their nature
nothing which led to very serious consequences, which I shall relate in
the proper place. Having obtained possession of this marvellous
apparatus, my next ardent aspiration was to make a successful use of it.
I distinctly remember, even at this distant date, with what nervous
curiosity I examined all the articles when I unpacked them in my
father's house, and with what wonder, not unmixed with apprehension, my
father looked upon that display of unknown, and to him apparently
nameless and useless toys. "More like a lot of conjuror's traps than
anything else," he exclaimed, after I had set them all out. And a few
days after he told one of my young friends that he thought I had gone
out of my mind to take up with that "Daggertype" business; the name
itself was a stumbling block in those days, for people called the
process "dagtype, docktype, and daggertype" more frequently than by its
proper name, Daguerreotype. What a contrast now-a-days, when almost
every father is an amateur photographer, and encourages both his sons
and daughters to become the same. My father was a very good parent, in
his way, and encouraged me, to the fullest extent of his means, in the
study of music and painting, and even sent me to the Government School
of Design, where I studied drawing under W. B. Scott; but the
new-fangled method of taking portraits did not harmonise with his
conservative and practical notions. One cause of his disapprobation and
dissatisfaction was, doubtless, my many failures; in fact, I may say,
inability to show him any result. I had acquired an apparatus of the
roughest and most primitive construction, but no knowledge of its use or
the behaviour of the chemicals employed, beyond the bare numerical order
in which they were to be used, and there was no one within a hundred
miles of where I lived, that I knew of, who could give me lessons or the
slightest hint respecting the process. I had worn out the patience of
all my relations and friends in fruitless sittings. I had set fire to my
singular dark room, and nearly set fire to the house, by attempting to
refill the spirit lamp while alight, and I was ill and suffering from
salivation through inhaling the fumes of mercury in my blind, anxious,
and enthusiastic endeavours to obtain a sun-picture. It is not long
since an eminent photographer told me that I was an enthusiast, but if
he had seen me in those days he would, in all probability, have told me
that I was mad. Though ill, I was not mad; I was only determined not to
be beaten. I was resolved to keep pegging away until I obtained a
satisfactory result. My friends laughed at me when I asked them to sit
for a trial, and they either refused, or sat with a very bad grace, as
if it really were a trial to them; but fancy, fair and kindly readers,
what it must have been to me! Finding that my living models fought shy
of me and my trials, I then thought of getting a lay figure, and
borrowed a large doll--quite as big as a baby--of one of my lady
friends. I stuck it up in a garden and pegged away at it for nearly six
months. At the end of that time I was able to produce a portrait of the
doll with tolerable certainty and success. Then I ventured to ask my
friends to sit again, but my process was too slow for life studies, and
my live sitters generally moved so much, their portraits were not
recognisable. There were no head-rests in those days, at least I did not
possess one, or it might have been pleasanter for my sitters and easier
for myself. What surprised me very much--and I thought it a singular
thing at the time--was my success in copying an engraving of Thorburn's
Miniature of the Queen. I made several good and beautiful copies of that
engraving, and sent one to an artist friend, then in Devonshire, who
wrote to say that it was beautiful, and that if he could get a
Daguerreotype portrait with the eyes as clear as that, he would sit at
once; but all the "Dagtypes" he had hitherto seen had only black holes
where the eyes should be. Unfortunately, that was my own experience. I
could copy from the flat well enough, but when I went to the round I
went wrong. Ultimately I discovered the cause of all that, and found a
remedy, but oh! the weary labour and mental worry I underwent before I
mastered the difficulties of the most troublesome and uncertain, yet
most beautiful and permanent of all the photographic processes that ever
was discovered or invented; and now it is a lost art. No one practises
it, and I don't think that there are half-a-dozen men living--myself
included--that could at this day go through all the manipulations
necessary to produce a good Daguerreotype portrait or picture; yet, when
the process was at the height of its popularity, a great number of
people pursued it as a profession in all parts of the civilized world,
and in the United States of America alone it was estimated in 1854 that
there were not less than thirty thousand people making their living as
Daguerreans. Few, if any, of the photographers of to-day--whether
amateur or professional--know anything of the forms or uses of plates,
buffs, lathes, sensitising or developing boxes, gilding stands, or other
Daguerreotype appliances; and I am quite certain that there is not a
dealer in all England that can furnish at this date a complete set of
Daguerreotype apparatus.

It was in 1849 that I gilded my first picture--a portrait of one of my
friends playing a guitar. I possess that picture now, and, after a lapse
of forty years, it is as good and bright as it was on the day that it
was taken. It was not a first-class production, but I hoped to do better
soon, and on the strength of that hope determined to commence business
as a professional Daguerreotypist. While I was considering whether I
should pitch my tent permanently in my native town, or take to a nomadic
kind of life, similar to what other Daguerreotypists were pursuing, I
was helped to a decision by the sudden appearance of a respectable and
experienced Daguerreotypist who came and built a "glass house"--the
first of its kind--in my native town. This somewhat disarranged my
plans, but on the whole it was rather opportune and advantageous than
otherwise, for it afforded me an unexpected opportunity of gaining a
great deal of practical experience on easy terms. The new comer was Mr.
George Brown, who had been an "operator" for Mr. Beard, in London, and
as he exhibited much finer specimens of the Daguerreotype process than
any I had hitherto seen, I engaged myself to assist him for six months
at a small salary. I showed him what I had done, and he showed and told
me all that he knew in connection with photography, and thus commenced a
business relation that ripened into a friendship that endured as long as
he lived.

At the end of the six months' engagement I left Mr. Brown, to commence
business on my own account, but as neither of us considered that there
was room for two Daguerreotypists in a town with a population of _one
hundred and twenty thousand_, I was driven to adopt the nomadic mode of
life peculiar to the itinerant photographer of the period. That was in
1850. Up to that time I had done nothing in Calotype work. Mr. Brown was
strictly a Daguerreotypist, but Mr. Parry, at that time a glass dealer
and amateur photographer, was working at the Calotype process, but not
very successfully, for nearly all his efforts were spoiled by
decomposition, which he could not then account for or overcome, but he
eventually became one of the best Calotypists in the neighbourhood, and
I became the possessor of some of the finest Calotype negatives he ever
produced, many of which are still in my possession. Mr. Parry
relinquished his glass business, and became a professional photographer
soon after the introduction of the collodion process. Another amateur
photographer that I met in those early days was a flute player in the
orchestra of the theatre. He produced very good Calotype negatives with
a single lens, and was very enthusiastic, but extremely reticent on all
photographic matters. About this period I made the acquaintance of Mr.
J. W. Swan: I had known him for some time previously when he was
apprentice and assistant to Mr. Mawson, chemist, in Mosley Street,
Newcastle-on-Tyne. Neither Mr. Mawson nor Mr. Swan were known to the
photographic world at that time. Mr. Mawson was most popular as a dealer
in German yeast, and I think it was not until after Archer published his
process that they began to make collodion and deal in photographic
materials--at any rate, I did not buy any photographic goods of them
until 1852, when I first began to use Mawson's collodion. In October,
1850, I went to Hexham, about twenty miles west of Newcastle-on-Tyne, to
make my first appearance as a professional Daguerreotypist. I rented a
sitting-room with a good window and clear view, so as to take "parlour
portraits." I could only take small pictures--two and a half by two
inches--for which I charged half a guinea, and was favoured with a few
sittings; but it was a slow place, and I left it in a few weeks.

The next move I made was to Seaham Harbour, and there I did a little
better business, but the place was too small and the people too poor for
me to continue long. Half guineas were not plentiful, even among the
tradespeople, and there were very few gentlefolk in the neighbourhood.
Some of the townspeople were very kind to me, and invited me to their
homes, and although my sojourn was not very profitable, it was very
pleasant. I had many pleasant rambles on the sands, and often looked at
Seaham Hall and thought of Byron and his matrimonial disappointment in
his marriage with Miss Milbank.

From Seaham Harbour I went to Middlesborough, hoping to do more business
among a larger population, but it appeared as if I were only going from
bad to worse. At that date the population was about thirty thousand, but
chiefly people of the working classes, employed at Balchow and Vaughn's
and kindred works. I made portraits of some of the members of Mr.
Balchow's family, Mr. Geordison, and some of the resident Quakers, but
altogether I did not do much more than pay expenses. I managed, however,
to stay there till the year 1851, when I caught the World's Fair fever,
so I packed up my apparatus and other things I did not require
immediately, and sent them to my father's house, and with a few changes
in my carpet-bag, and a little money in my pocket, I started off to see
the Great Exhibition in London. I went by way of York and Hull, with the
two-fold object of seeing some friends in both places, and to prospect
on the business chances they might afford. At York I found Mr. Pumphrey
was located, but as he did not appear to be fully occupied with
sitters--for I found him trying to take a couple of boys fighting in a
back yard--I thought there was not room for another Daguerreotypist in
York. In a few days I went to Hull, but even there the ground was
preoccupied, so I took the first steamer for London. We sailed on a
Saturday night, and after a pleasant voyage arrived at the wharf below
London Bridge early on Sunday evening. I put up at the "Yorkshire Grey,"
in Thames Street, where I met several people from the North, also on a
visit to London to see the Great Exhibition. This being my first visit
to London, I was anxious to get a sight of the streets and crowds
therein, so, after obtaining some refreshment, I strolled out with one
of my fellow passengers to receive my first impressions of the great
metropolis. The evening was fine, and, being nearly the longest day,
there was light enough to enable me to see the God-forsaken appearance
of Thames Street, the dismal aspect of Fish Street Hill, and the gloomy
column called "The Monument" that stands there to remind citizens and
strangers of the Great Fire of 1666; but I was both amazed and amused
with the life and bustle I saw on London Bridge and other places in the
immediate neighbourhood, but my eyes and ears soon became fatigued with
the sights and sounds of the lively and noisy thoroughfares. After a
night's rest, which was frequently broken by cries of "Stop thief!" and
the screams of women, I arose and made an early start for the Great
Exhibition of 1851. Of all the wonderful things in that most wonderful
exhibition, I was most interested in the photographic exhibits and the
beautiful specimens of American Daguerreotypes, both portraits and
landscapes, especially the views of Niagara Falls, which made me
determine to visit America as soon as ever I could make the necessary
arrangements.

While examining and admiring those very beautiful Daguerreotypes, I
little thought that I was standing, as it were, between the birth of one
process and the death of another; but so it was, for the newly-born
collodion process very soon annihilated the Daguerreotype, although the
latter process had just reached the zenith of its beauty. In the March
number of the _Chemist_, Archer's Collodion Process was published, and
that was like the announcement of the birth of an infant Hercules, that
was destined to slay a beautiful youth whose charms had only arrived at
maturity. But there was really a singular and melancholy coincidence in
the birth of the Collodion Process and the early death of the
Daguerreotype, for Daguerre himself died on July 10th, 1851, so that
both Daguerre and his process appeared to receive their death blows in
the same year. I don't suppose that Daguerre died from a shock to his
system, caused by the publication of a rival process, for it is not
likely that he knew anything about the invention of a process that was
destined, in a very few years, to abolish his own--living as he was in
the retirement of his native village, and enjoying his well-earned
pension.

As Daguerre was the first of the successful discoverers of photography
to be summoned by death, I will here give a brief sketch of his life and
pursuits prior to his association with Nicéphore Niépce and photography.
Louis Jacques Mandé Daguerre was born at Cormeilles, near Paris, in
1787, of poor and somewhat careless parents, who appear to have bestowed
upon him more names than attention. Though they did not endow him with a
good education, they had the good sense to observe the bent of his mind
and apprentice him to a theatrical scene painter. In that situation he
soon made his mark, and his artistic and mechanical abilities, combined
with industry, painstaking, and boldness of conception, soon raised him
to the front rank of his profession, in which he gained both honour and
profit. Like all true artists, he was fond of sketching from nature;
and, to save time and secure true proportion, he employed such optical
appliances as were then at his command. Some of his biographers say
that he, like Fox Talbot, employed the camera lucida; others the
camera-obscura; as there is a considerable difference between the two
it would be interesting to know which it really was. At any rate it was
one of these instruments which gave him the notion and created the desire
to secure the views as they were presented by the lens or reflector. Much
of his time was devoted to the painting and construction of a diorama
which was first exhibited in 1822, and created quite a sensation in
Paris. As early as 1824 he commenced his photographic experiments, with
very little knowledge on the subject; but with the hope and
determination of succeeding, by some means or other, in securing the
pictures as Nature painted them on the screen or receiver. Doubtless he
was sanguine enough then to hope to be able to obtain colours as well as
drawings, but he died without seeing that accomplished, and so will many
others. What he did succeed in accomplishing was marvellous, and quite
entitled him to all the honour and emolument he received, but he only
lived about twelve years after his discovery. He was, however, saved the
mortification of seeing his beautiful discovery discarded and cast away
in the hey-day of its beauty and perfection.

After a few weeks sojourn in London, seeing all the sights and
revisiting all the Daguerreotype studios, I turned my back on the great
city and my footsteps homewards again. As soon as I reached home I
unpacked my apparatus and made arrangements for another campaign with
the camera at some of the sea-side resorts, with the hope of making up
for lost time and money through visiting London.

I had looked at Scarborough and found the Brothers Holroyd located
there; at Whitby, Mr. Stonehouse; and I did not like the appearance of
Redcar, so I settled upon Tynemouth, and did fairly well for a short
season. About the end of October I went on to Carlisle, but a Scotchman
had already preceded me there, and I thought one Daguerreotypist was
quite enough for so small a place, and pushed on to Penrith, where I
settled for the winter and gradually worked up a little connection, and
formed some life-long friendships. I was the first Daguerreotypist who
had visited the town of Penrith, and while there I made Daguerreotypes
of Sir George and Lady Musgrave and family, and some members of the
Lonsdale family. It was through the kindness of Miss Lowther that I was
induced to go to Whitehaven, but I did not do much business there, so,
after a bad winter, I resolved to go to America in the spring, and made
arrangements for the voyage immediately. Thinking that I would find
better apparatus and appliances in America, I disposed of my "Tent and
Kit," closed up my affairs, bid adieu to my relatives and friends, and
departed.

To obtain the benefit and experience of a long sea voyage, I secured a
cabin passage in a sailing ship named the _Amazon_, and sailed from
Shields towards the end of April, 1853. We crossed the Tyne bar late in
the evening with a fair wind, and sailed away for the Pentland Frith so
as to gain the Atlantic by sailing all round the North of Scotland. I
was rather upset the first night, but recovered my appetite next
morning. We entered the Pentland Frith on the Saturday afternoon, and
were running through the Channel splendidly, when the carpenter came to
report water in the well--I forget how many feet--but he thought it
would not be safe to attempt crossing the Atlantic. I was a little
alarmed at this, but the captain took it very coolly, and ordered the
ship to be pumped every watch. Being the only passenger, I became a kind
of chum and companion to the captain, and as we sat over our grog that
night in the cabin our conversation naturally turned upon the condition
of the ship, when he remarked that he was disappointed, and that he
"expected he had got a sound ship under his feet this time." These words
did not make much impression upon me then, but I had reason to
comprehend their meaning afterwards. I was awoke early on the Sunday
morning by the noise caused by the working of the pumps, and on going on
deck found that we were becalmed, lying off the coast of Caithnesshire,
and the water pouring out of the pump-hole in a continuous stream. After
breakfast, and while sitting on the taffrail of the quarterdeck along
with the captain, waiting for a breeze, I asked him if he intended to
cross the Atlantic in such a leaky vessel. He answered "Yes, and the men
are all willing." So I thought if these men were not afraid of the ship
foundering, I need not be; but I had reasons afterwards for coming to an
opposite conclusion.

Towards evening the breeze sprang up briskly, and away we went, the
ship heading W.N.W., as the captain said he wanted to make the northern
passage. Next morning we were in a rather rough sea, and a gale of wind
blowing. One of the yards was broken with the force of the wind, and the
sail and broken yard dangled about the rigging for a considerable time
before the sail could be hauled in and the wreckage cleared up. We had
several days of bad weather, and one morning when I got up I found the
ship heading East. I naturally concluded that we were returning, but the
captain said that he had only turned the ship about to enable the men to
stop a leak in her bows. The carpenter afterwards told me that the water
came in there like a river during the night. Thus we went on through
variable weather until at last we sighted two huge icebergs, and then
Newfoundland, when the captain informed me that he intended now to coast
up to New York. We got out of sight of land occasionally, and one day,
after the captain had taken his observations and worked out the ship's
position, he called my attention to the chart, and observed that he
intended to sail between an island and the mainland, but as the Channel
was subject to strong and variable currents, it was a rather dangerous
experiment. Being in such a leaky ship, I thought he wanted to hug the
land as much as possible, which I considered a very wise and safe
proceeding; but he had ulterior objects in view, which the sequel will
reveal.

On the night of the 31st of May, after a long yarn from the captain
about how he was once wrecked on an iceberg, I turned in with a feeling
of perfect safety, for the sea was calm, the night clear, and the wind
fair and free; but about daylight next morning I was awoke with a shock,
a sudden tramping on deck, and the mate shouting down the companion
stairs, "Captain, the ship's ashore." Both the captain and I rushed on
deck just as we jumped out of our berths, but we could not see anything
of the land or shore, for we were enveloped in a thick fog. We heard the
breakers and felt the thud of the waves as they broke upon the ship,
but whether we had struck on a rock or grounded on a sandy beach we
could not then ascertain. The captain ordered the sails to be "slewed
back" and a hawser to be thrown astern, but all efforts to get the ship
off were in vain, for with every wave the ship forged more and more on
to the shore.

As the morning advanced, the fog cleared away a little, which enabled us
to see dimly through the mist the top of a bank of yellow sand. This
sight settled the doubt as to our whereabouts, and the captain
immediately gave the order "Prepare to abandon the ship." The long boat
was at once got ready, and lowered with considerable difficulty, for the
ship was then more among the breakers. After a good deal of delay and
danger, we all succeeded in leaving the ship and clearing the breakers.
We were exposed in the open boats all that day and night, and about ten
o'clock next morning we effected a landing on the lee side of the
island, which we ascertained to be Sable Island, a bald crown of one of
the banks of Newfoundland. Here we received help, shelter, and
provisions, all provided by the Home and Colonial Governments, for the
relief of shipwrecked people, for this island was one of the places
where ships were both accidentally and wilfully wrecked. We were obliged
to stay there sixteen days before we could get a vessel to take us to
Halifax, Nova Scotia, the nearest port, and would possibly have had to
remain on the island much longer, but for a mutiny among the crew. I
could describe some strange and startling incidents in connection with
the wreck and mutiny, but I will not allow myself to be tempted further
into the vale of divergence, as the chief object I have in view is my
reminiscence of photography.

On leaving Sable Island I was taken to Halifax, where I waited the
arrival of the Cunard steamer _Niagara_, to take me on to Boston; thence
I proceeded by rail and steamer to New York, where I arrived about the
end of June, 1853.

On landing in New York I only knew one individual, and not knowing how
far I should have to go to find him I put up at an hotel on Broadway,
but soon found that too expensive for my means, and went to a private
boarding house as soon as I could.

Visiting all the leading Daguerreotypists on Broadway, I was somewhat
astonished at their splendid reception rooms, and the vast number of
large and excellent specimens exhibited. Their plain Daguerreotypes were
all of fine quality, and free from the "buff lines" so noticeable in
English work at that period; but all their attempts at colouring were
miserable failures, and when I showed one of my coloured specimens to
Mr. Gurney, he said, "Well, if you can colour one of my pictures like
that I'll believe you;" which I soon did, and very much to his
astonishment. In those days I prepared my own colours, and Mr. Gurney
bought a box immediately. The principal Daguerreotypists in New York at
that time were Messrs. Brady, Gurney, Kent, Lawrence, Mead Brothers, and
Samuel Root, and I called upon them all before I entered into any
business arrangements, finally engaging myself to Messrs. Mead Brothers
as a colourist and teacher of colouring for six months, and while
fulfilling that engagement I gave lessons to several "Daguerreans," and
made the acquaintance of men from all parts of the Union, for I soon
obtained some notoriety throughout the States in consequence of a man
named Humphrey attacking me and my colouring process in a photographic
journal which bore his name, as well as in the _New York Tribune_. I
replied to his attack in the columns of the _Tribune_, but I saw that he
had a friend on the staff, and I did not feel inclined to continue the
controversy. Mr. Humphrey knew nothing about my process, but began and
continued the discussion on his knowledge of what was known as the
"Isinglass Process," which was not mine. After completing my engagements
with Messrs. Mead Brothers, I made arrangements to supply the stock
dealers with my prepared colours, and travel the States myself to
introduce them to all the Daguerreans residing in the towns and cities I
should visit.

In the principal cities I found all the Daguerreans quite equal to the
best in New York, and all doing good business, and I gave lessons in
colouring to most of them. In Newark I met Messrs. Benjamin and Polson;
in Philadelphia, Marcus Root and Dr. Bushnell. I encountered a great many
_doctors_ and _professors_ in the business in America. In Baltimore,
Maryland--then a slave State--many of the Daguerreans owned slaves. In
Washington D.C., I renewed my acquaintance with Mr. George Adams, one of
the best Daguerreans in the City; and while visiting him a very curious
thing occurred. One of the representatives of the South came in to have
his portrait taken, and the first thing he did was to lay a revolver and
a bowie knife on the table beside him. He had just come from the House
of Representatives. His excuse for such a proceeding was that he had
bought some slaves at the market at Alexandria, and was going to take
them home that night. He was a very tall man, and when he stood up
against the background his head was above it. As he wanted to be taken
standing, this put Mr. Adams into a dilemma, and he asked what he should
do. I thought the only thing that could be done was to move the
background up and down during exposure, which we did, and so obviated
the appearance of a line crossing the head.

While staying in Washington I attended one of the levées at the White
House, and was introduced to President Pearce. There was no fuss or
difficulty in gaining admission. I had only to present my card at the
door, and the City Marshall at once led me into the room where the
President, surrounded by some of his Cabinet, was waiting to receive,
and I was introduced. After a cordial shake of his hand, I passed on to
another saloon where there was music and promenading in mixed costumes,
for most of the men were dressed as they liked, and some of the ladies
wore bonnets. It was the weekly _sans cérémonie_ reception. Finding many
of the people of Washington very agreeable and hospitable, I stayed
there a considerable time. When I started on the southern journey I did
intend to go on to New Orleans, but I stayed so long in Philadelphia and
Washington the summer was too far advanced, and as a rather severe
outbreak of yellow fever had occurred, I returned to New York and took a
journey northward, visiting Niagara Falls, and going on to Canada. I
sailed up the Hudson River, stopping at Albany and Troy. At the latter
place I met an Englishman, named Irvine, a Daguerrean who treated me
hospitably, and for whom I coloured several Daguerreotypes. He wanted me
to stay with him, but that I declined. Thence I proceeded to Rochester,
and there found that one of my New York pupils had been before me,
representing himself as Werge the colourist, for when I introduced
myself to the principal Daguerrean he told me that Werge--a very
different man--had been there two or three weeks ago. I discovered who
the fellow was, and that he had practised a piece of Yankee smartness
for which I had no redress. From Rochester I proceeded to Buffalo, where
I met with another instance of Yankee smartness of a different kind. I
had sold some colours to a man there who paid me in dollar bills, the
usual currency of the country, but when I tendered one of these bills
for payment at the hotel, it was refused. I next offered it on board a
steamboat, but there it was also declined. When I had an opportunity I
returned it to the man who gave it to me, and requested him to send me a
good one instead. He was honest enough to do that, and impudent enough
to tell me that he knew it was bad when he gave it to me, but as I was a
stranger he thought I might pass it off easily.

I next went to Niagara Falls, where it was my good fortune to encounter
two very different specimens of American character in the persons of Mr.
Easterly and Mr. Babbitt, the former a visitor and the latter a resident
Daguerrean, who held a monopoly from General Porter to Daguerreotype
the Falls and visitors. He had a pavilion on the American side of the
Falls, under which his camera was in position all day long, and when a
group of visitors stood on the shore to survey the Falls from that
point, he took the group--without their knowledge--and showed it to the
visitors before they left. In almost every instance he sold the picture
at a good price; the people were generally delighted to be taken at the
Falls. I need hardly say that they were all taken instantaneously, and
embraced a good general view, including the American Fall, Goat Island,
the Horse Shoe Fall, and the Canadian shore. Many of these views I
coloured for Mr. Babbitt, but there was always a beautiful green colour
on the brink of the Horse Shoe Fall which I never could match. For many
years I possessed one of Mr. Babbitt's Daguerreotype views, as well as
others taken by Mr. Easterly and myself, but I had the misfortune to be
deprived of them all by fire. Some years after I lent them to an
exhibition in Glasgow, which was burnt down, and all the exhibits
destroyed. After a delightful sojourn of three weeks at Niagara Falls, I
took steamer on the lower Niagara River, sailed down to Lake Ontario,
and down the River St. Lawrence, shooting the Lachine Rapids, and on to
Montreal.

In the Canadian City I did not find business very lively, so after
viewing the fine Cathedral of Notre Dame, the mountain, and other
places, I left Montreal and proceeded by rail to Boston. The difference
between the two cities was immense. Montreal was dull and sleepy, Boston
was all bustle and life, and the people were as unlike as the cities. On
my arrival in Boston, I put up at the Quincy Adams Hotel, and spent the
first few days in looking about the somewhat quaint and interesting old
city, hunting up Franklin Associations, and revolutionary landmarks,
Bunker Hill, and other places of interest. Having satisfied my appetite
for these things, I began to look about me with an eye to business, and
called upon the chief Daguerreans and photographers in Boston. Messrs.
Southworth and Hawes possessed the largest Daguerreotype establishment,
and did an excellent business. In their "Saloon" I saw the largest and
finest revolving stereoscope that was ever exhibited. The pictures were
all whole-plate Daguerreotypes, and set vertically on the perpendicular
drum on which they revolved. The drum was turned by a handle attached to
cog wheels, so that a person sitting before it could see the
stereoscopic pictures with the utmost ease. It was an expensive
instrument, but it was a splendid advertisement, for it drew crowds to
their saloon to see it and to sit, and their enterprise met with its
reward.

At Mr. Whipple's gallery, in Washington Street, a dual photography was
carried on, for he made both Daguerreotypes and what he called
"crystallotypes," which were simply plain silver prints obtained from
collodion negatives. Mr. Whipple was the first American photographer who
saw the great commercial advantages of the collodion process over the
Daguerreotype, and he grafted it on the elder branch of photography
almost as soon as it was introduced. Indeed, Mr. Whipple's establishment
may be considered the very cradle of American photography as far as
collodion negatives and silver prints are concerned, for he was the very
first to take hold of it with spirit, and as early as 1853 he was doing
a large business in photographs, and teaching the art to others.
Although I had taken collodion negatives in England with Mawson's
collodion in 1852, I paid Mr. Whipple fifty dollars to be shown how he
made his collodion, silver bath, developer, printing, &c., &c., for
which purpose he handed me over to his active and intelligent assistant
and newly-made partner, Mr. Black. This gave me the run of the
establishment, and I was somewhat surprised to find how vast and varied
were his mechanical appliances for reducing labour and expediting work.
The successful practice of the Daguerreotype art greatly depended on the
cleanness and highly polished surface of the silvered plates, and to
secure these necessary conditions, Mr. Whipple had, with characteristic
and Yankee-like ingenuity, obtained the assistance of a steam engine
which not only "drove" all the circular cleaning and buffing wheels, but
an immense circular fan which kept the studio and sitters delightfully
cool. Machinery and ingenuity did a great many things in Mr. Whipple's
establishment in the early days of photography. Long before the
Ambrotype days, pictures were taken on glass and thrown upon canvas by
means of the oxyhydrogen light for the use of artists. At that early
period of the history of photography, Messrs. Whipple and Black did an
immense "printing and publishing" trade, and their facilities were
"something considerable." Their toning, fixing, and washing baths were
almost worthy the name of vats.

Messrs. Masury and Silsby were also early producers of photographs in
Boston, and in 1854 employed a very clever operator, Mr. Turner, who
obtained beautiful and brilliant negatives by iron development. On the
whole, I think Boston was ahead of New York for enterprise and the use
of mechanical appliances in connection with photography. I sold my
colours to most of the Daguerreotypists, and entered into business
relations with two of the dealers, Messrs. French and Cramer, to stock
them, and then started for New York to make arrangements for my return
to England.

When I returned to New York the season was over, and everyone was
supposed to be away at Saratoga Springs, Niagara Falls, Rockaway, and
other fashionable resorts; but I found the Daguerreotype galleries all
open and doing a considerable stroke of business among the cotton
planters and slave holders, who had left the sultry south for the cooler
atmosphere of the more northern States. The Daguerreotype process was
then in the zenith of its perfection and popularity, and largely
patronised by gentlemen from the south, especially for large or double
whole-plates, about 16 by 12 inches, for which they paid fifty dollars
each. It was only the best houses that made a feature of these large
pictures, for it was not many of the Daguerreans that possessed a
"mammoth tube and box"--_i.e._, lens and camera--or the necessary
machinery to "get up" such large surfaces, but all employed the best
mechanical means for cleaning and polishing their plates, and it was
this that enabled the Americans to produce more brilliant pictures than
we did. Many people used to say it was the climate, but it was nothing
of the kind. The superiority of the American Daguerreotype was entirely
due to mechanical appliances. Having completed my business arrangements
and left my colours on sale with the principal stock dealers, including
the Scovill Manufacturing Company, Messrs. Anthony, and Levi Chapman.

I sailed from New York in October 1854, and arrived in England in due
time without any mishap, and visiting London again as soon as I could, I
called at Mr. Mayall's gallery in Regent Street to see Dr. Bushnell,
whom I knew in Philadelphia, and who was then operating for Mr. Mayall.
While there Mr. Mayall came in from the Guildhall, and announced the
result of the famous trial, "Talbot _versus_ Laroche," a verbatim report
of which is given in the Journal of the Photographic Society for
December 21st, 1854. Mr. Mayall was quite jubilant, and well he might
be, for the verdict for the defendant removed the trammels which Mr. Fox
Talbot attempted to impose upon the practice of the collodion process,
which was Frederick Scott Archer's gift to photographers. That was the
first time that I had met Mr. Mayall, though I had heard of him and
followed him both at Philadelphia and New York, and even at Niagara
Falls. At that time Mr. Mayall was relinquishing the Daguerreotype
process, though one of the earliest practitioners, for he was in
business as a Daguerreotypist in Philadelphia from 1842 to 1846, and I
know that he made a Daguerreotype portrait of James Anderson, the
tragedian, in Philadelphia, on Sunday, May 18th, 1845. During part of
the time that he was in Philadelphia he was in partnership with Marcus
Root, and the name of the firm was "Highschool and Root," and about the
end of 1846 Mr. Mayall opened a Daguerreotype studio in the Adelaide
Gallery, King William Street, Strand, London, under the name of
Professor Highschool, and soon after that he opened a Daguerreotype
gallery in his own name in the Strand, which establishment he sold to
Mr. Jabez Hughes in 1855. The best Daguerreotypists in London in 1854
were Mr. Beard, King William Street, London Bridge; Messrs. Kilburn, T.
R. Williams and Claudet, in Regent Street; and W. H. Kent, in Oxford
Street. The latter had just returned from America, and brought all the
latest improvements with him. Messrs. Henneman and Malone were in Regent
Street doing calotype portraits. Henneman had been a servant to Fox
Talbot, and worked his process under favourable conditions. Mr. Lock was
also in Regent Street, doing coloured photographs. He offered me a
situation at once, if I could colour photographs as well as I could
colour Daguerreotypes, but I could not, for the processes were totally
different. M. Manson, an old Frenchman, was the chief Daguerreotype
colourist in London, and worked for all the principal Daguerreotypists.
I met the old gentleman first in 1851, and knew him for many years
afterwards. He also made colours for sale. Not meeting with anything to
suit me in London, I returned to the North, calling at Birmingham on my
way, where I met Mr. Whitlock, the chief Daguerreotypist there, and a
Mr. Monson, who professed to make Daguerreotypes and all other types.
Paying a visit to Mr. Elisha Mander, the well-known photographic case
maker, I learnt that Mr. Jabez Hughes, then in business in Glasgow, was
in want of an assistant, a colourist especially. Having met Mr. Hughes
in Glasgow in 1852, and knowing what kind of man he was, I wrote to him,
and was engaged in a few days. I went to Glasgow in January, 1855, and
then commenced business relations and friendship with Mr. Hughes that
lasted unbroken until his death in 1884. My chief occupation was to
colour the Daguerreotypes taken by Mr. Hughes, and occasionally take
sitters, when Mr. Hughes was busy, in another studio. I had not,
however, been long in Glasgow, when Mr. Hughes determined to return to
London. At first he wished me to accompany him, but it was ultimately
arranged that I should purchase the business, and remain in Glasgow,
which I did, and took possession in June, Mr. Hughes going to Mr.
Mayall's old place in the Strand, London. Mr. Hughes had been in Glasgow
for nearly seven years, and had done a very good business, going first
as operator to Mr. Bernard, and succeeding to the business just as I was
doing. While Mr. Hughes was in Glasgow he was very popular, not only as
a Daguerreotypist, but as a lecturer. He delivered a lecture on
photography at the Literary and Philosophical Society, became an active
member of the Glasgow Photographic Society, and an enthusiastic member
of the St. Mark's Lodge of Freemasons. Only a day or two before he left
Glasgow, he occupied the chair at a meeting of photographers, comprising
Daguerreotypists and collodion workers, to consider what means could be
adopted to check the downward tendency of prices even in those early
days. I was present, and remember seeing a lady Daguerreotypist among
the company, and she expressed her opinion quite decidedly. Efforts were
made to enter into a compact to maintain good prices, but nothing came
of it. Like all such bandings together, the band was quickly and easily
broken.

I had the good fortune to retain the best of Mr. Hughes's customers, and
make new ones of my own, as well as many staunch and valuable friends,
both among what I may term laymen and brother Masons, while I resided in
Glasgow. Most of my sitters were of the professional classes, and the
_elite_ of the city, among whom were Sir Archibald Alison, the
historian, Col. (now General) Sir Archibald Alison, Dr. Arnott,
Professor Ramsey, and many of the princely merchants and manufacturers.
Some of my other patrons--for I did all kinds of photographic work--were
the late Norman Macbeth, Daniel McNee (afterwards Sir Daniel), and
President of the Scottish Academy of Art, and also Her Majesty the
Queen, for she bought two of my photographs of Glasgow Cathedral, and a
copy of my illustration of Hood's "Song of the Shirt," copies of which I
possess now, and doubtless so does Her Majesty. One of the most
interesting portraits I remember taking while I was in Glasgow was that
of John Robertson, who constructed the first marine steam engine. He was
associated with Henry Bell, and fitted the "Comet" with her engine. Mr.
Napier senr., the celebrated engineer on the Clyde, brought Robertson to
sit to me, and ordered a great many copies. I also took a portrait of
Harry Clasper, of rowing and boat-building notoriety, which was engraved
and published in the _Illustrated London News_. Several of my portraits
were engraved both on wood and steel, and published. At the photographic
exhibition in connection with the meeting of the British Association
held in Glasgow, in 1855, I saw the largest collodion positive on glass
that ever was made to my knowledge. The picture was thirty-six inches
long, a view of Gourock, or some such place down the Clyde, taken by Mr.
Kibble. The glass was British plate, and cost about £1. I thought it a
great evidence of British pluck to attempt such a size. When I saw Mr.
Kibble I told him so, and expressed an opinion that I thought it a waste
of time, labour, and money not to have made a negative when he was at
such work. He took the hint, and at the next photographic exhibition he
showed a silver print the same size. Mr. Kibble was an undoubted
enthusiast, and kept a donkey to drag his huge camera from place to
place. My pictures frequently appeared at the Glasgow exhibition, but at
one, which was burnt down, I lost all my Daguerreotype views of Niagara
Falls, Whipple's views of the moon, and many other valuable pictures,
portraits, and views, which could never be replaced.


  [Illustration: THIRD PERIOD.

  COLLODION.

  FREDERICK SCOTT ARCHER.
  _From Glass Positive by R. Cade, Ipswich. 1855._

  HEVER CASTLE, KENT.
  _Copy of Glass Positive taken by F. Scott Archer in 1849._]




THIRD PERIOD.

COLLODION TRIUMPHANT.


In 1857 I abandoned the Daguerreotype process entirely, and took to
collodion solely; and, strangely enough, that was the year that
Frederick Scott Archer, the inventor, died. Like Daguerre, he did not
long survive the publication and popularity of his invention, nor did he
live long enough to see his process superseded by another. In years,
honours, and emoluments, he fell far short of Daguerre, but his process
had a much longer existence, was of far more commercial value,
benefitting private individuals and public bodies, and creating an
industry that expanded rapidly, and gave employment to thousands all
over the world; yet he profited little by his invention, and when he
died, a widow and three children were left destitute. Fortunately a few
influential friends bestirred themselves in their interest, and when the
appeal was made to photographers and the public to the Archer
Testimonial, the following is what appeared in the pages of _Punch_,
June 13th, 1857:--


"To the Sons of the Sun.

"The inventor of collodion has died, leaving his invention unpatented,
to enrich thousands, and his family unportioned to the battle of life.
Now, one expects a photographer to be almost as sensitive as the
collodion to which Mr. Scott Archer helped him. A deposit of silver is
wanted (gold will do), and certain faces, now in the dark chamber, will
light up wonderfully, with an effect never before equalled by
photography. A respectable ancient writes that the statue of Fortitude
was the only one admitted to the Temple of the Sun. Instead whereof, do
you, photographers, set up Gratitude in your little glass temples of the
sun, and sacrifice, according to your means, in memory of the benefactor
who gave you the deity for a household god. Now, answers must not be
negatives."

The result of that appeal, and the labours of the gentlemen who so
generously interested themselves on behalf of the widow and orphans, was
highly creditable to photographers, the Photographic Society, Her
Majesty's Ministers, and Her Majesty the Queen. What those labours were,
few now can have any conception; but I think the very best way to convey
an idea of those labours and their successful results will be to reprint
a copy of the final report of the committee.


The Report of the Committee of the Archer Testimonial.

"The Committee of the Archer Testimonial, considering it necessary to
furnish a statement of the course pursued towards the attainment of
their object, desire to lay before the subscribers and the public
generally a full report of their proceedings.

"Shortly after the death of Mr. F. Scott Archer, a preliminary meeting
of a few friends was held, and it was determined that a printed address
should be issued to the photographic world.

"Sir William Newton, cordially co-operating in the movement, at once
made application to Her Most Gracious Majesty. The Queen, with her usual
promptitude and kindness of heart, forwarded a donation of £20 towards
the Testimonial. The Photographic Society of London, at the same time,
proposed a grant of £50, and this liberality on the part of the Society
was followed by an announcement of a list of donations from individual
members, which induced your Committee to believe that if an appeal were
made to the public, and those practising the photographic art, a sum
might be raised sufficiently large, not only to relieve the immediate
wants of the widow and children, but to purchase a small annuity, and
thus in a slight degree compensate for the heavy loss they had sustained
by the premature death of one to whom the photographic art had already
become deeply indebted.

"To aid in the accomplishment of this design, Mr. Mayall placed the use
of his rooms at the service of a committee then about to be formed. Sir
William Newton and Mr. Roger Fenton consented to act as treasurers to
the fund, and the Union, and London and Westminster Banks kindly
undertook to receive subscriptions.

"Your Committee first met on the 8th day of June, 1857, Mr. Digby Wyatt
being called to the chair, when it was resolved to ask the consent of
Professors Delamotte and Goodeve to become joint secretaries. These
duties were willingly accepted, and subscription lists opened in various
localities in furtherance of the Testimonial.

"Your Committee met on the 8th day of July, and again on the 4th day of
September, when, on each occasion, receipts were announced and paid into
the bankers.

"The Society of Arts having kindly offered, through their Secretary, the
use of apartments in the house of the Society for any further meetings,
your Committee deemed it expedient to accept the same, and passed a vote
of thanks to Mr. Mayall for the accommodation previously afforded by
that gentleman.

"Your Committee, believing that the interests of the fund would be
better served by a short delay in their proceedings, resolved on
deferring their next meeting until the month of November, or until the
Photographic Society should resume its meetings, when a full attendance
of members might be anticipated; it being apparent that individually and
collectively persons in the provinces had withheld their subscriptions
until the grant of the Photographic Society of London had been formally
sanctioned at a special meeting convened for the purpose, and that their
object--the purchase of an annuity for Mrs. Archer and her
children--could only be effected by the most active co-operation among
all classes.

"Your Committee again met on the 26th of November, when it was resolved
to report progress to the general body of subscribers, and that a public
meeting be called for the purpose, at which the Lord Chief Baron Pollock
should be requested to preside. To this request the Lord Chief Baron
most kindly and promptly acceded; and your Committee determined to seek
the co-operation of their photographic friends and the public to enable
them to carry out in its fullest integrity the immediate object of
securing some small acknowledgment for the eminent services rendered to
photography by the late Mr. Archer.

"At this meeting it was stated that an impression existed, which to some
extent still exists, that Mr. Archer was not the originator of the
Collodion Process; your Committee, therefore, think it their duty to
state emphatically that they are fully satisfied of the great importance
of the services rendered by him, as an original inventor, to the art of
photography.

"Professor Hunt, having studied during twenty years the beautiful art of
photography in all its details, submitted to the Committee the following
explanation of Mr. Archer's just right:--

"'As there appears to be some misconception of the real claim of Mr.
Archer to be considered as a _discoverer_, it is thought desirable to
state briefly and distinctly what we owe to him. There can be no doubt
that much of the uncertainty which has been thought by some persons to
surround the introduction of collodion, has arisen from the unobtrusive
character of Mr. Archer himself, who deferred for a considerable period
_the publication of the process of which he was the discoverer_.

"'When Professor Schönbein, of Basle, introduced gun-cotton at the
meeting of the British Association at Southampton in 1846, the
solubility of this curious substance in ether was alluded to. Within a
short time collodion was employed in our hospitals for the purposes of
covering with a film impervious to air abraded surfaces on the body; its
peculiar electrical condition was also known and exhibited by Mr. Hall,
of Dartford, and others.

"'The beautiful character of the collodion film speedily led to the idea
of using it as a medium for receiving photographic agents, and
experiments were made by spreading the collodion on paper and on glass,
to form with it sensitive tablets. These experiments were all failures,
owing to the circumstance that the collodion was regarded merely as a
sheet upon which the photographic materials were to be spread; the dry
collodion film being in all cases employed.

"'To Mr. Archer, who spent freely both time and money in experimental
research, it first occurred to dissolve in the collodion itself the
iodide of potassium. By this means he removed every difficulty, and
became the inventor of the collodion process. The pictures thus obtained
were exhibited, and some of the details of the process communicated by
Mr. Scott Archer in confidence to friends before he published his
process. This led, very unfortunately, to experiments by others in the
same direction, and hence there have arisen claims in opposition to
those of this lamented photographer. Everyone, however, acquainted with
the early history of the collodion process freely admits that Mr. Archer
was the _sole inventor of iodized collodion_, and of those manipulatory
details which still, with very slight modifications, constitute the
collodion process, and he was the first person who published any account
of the application of this remarkable accelerating agent, by which the
most important movement has been given to the art of photography.'

"Your committee, in May last, heard with deep regret of the sudden death
of the widow, Mrs. Archer, which melancholy event caused a postponement
of the general meeting resolved upon in November last. Sir Wm. Newton
thereupon resolved to make another effort to obtain a pension for the
three orphan children, now more destitute than ever, and so earnestly
did he urge their claim upon the Minister, Lord Derby, that a reply came
the same day from his lordship's private secretary, saying, 'The Queen
has been pleased to approve of a pension of fifty pounds per annum being
paid from the Civil List to the children of the late Mr. Frederick Scott
Archer, in consideration of the scientific discoveries of their father,'
his lordship adding his regrets 'that the means at his disposal have not
enabled him to do more in this case.' Your committee, to mark their
sense of the value of the services rendered to the cause by Sir William
Newton, thereupon passed a vote of thanks to him. In conclusion, your
committee have to state that a trust deed has been prepared, free of
charge, by Henry White, Esq., of 7, Southampton Street, which conveys
the fund collected to trustees, to be by them invested in the public
securities for the sole benefit of the orphan children. The sum in the
Union Bank now amounts to £549 11s. 4d., exclusive of interest, and the
various sums--in all about £68--paid over to Mrs. Archer last year. Thus
far, the result is a subject for congratulation to the subscribers and
your committee, whose labours have hitherto not been in vain. Your
committee are, nevertheless, of opinion that an appeal to Parliament
might be productive of a larger recognition of the claim of these orphan
children--a claim not undeserving the recognition of the Legislature,
when the inestimable boon bestowed upon the country is duly considered.
Since March 1851, when Mr. Archer described his process in the pages of
the _Chemist_, how many thousands must in some way or other have been
made acquainted with the immense advantages it offers over all other
processes in the arts, and how many instances could be adduced in
testimony of its usefulness? For instance, its value to the Government
during the last war, in the engineering department, the construction of
field works, and in recording observations of historical and scientific
interest. Your committee noticed that an attractive feature of the
Photographic Society's last exhibition was a series of drawings and
plans, executed by the Royal Engineers, in reduction of various ordnance
maps, at a saving estimated at £30,000 to the country. The
non-commissioned officers of this corps are now trained in this art, and
sent to different foreign stations, so that in a few years there will be
a network of photographic stations spread over the world, and having
their results recorded in the War Department, and, in a short time, all
the world will be brought under the subjugation of art.

"Mr. Warren De la Rue exhibited to the Astronomical Society, November,
1857, photographs of the moon and Jupiter, taken by the collodion
process in five seconds, of which the Astronomer-Royal said, 'that a
step of very great importance had been made, and that, either as regards
the self-delineation of clusters of stars, nebulæ, and planets, or the
self-registration of observations, it is impossible at present to
estimate the value.' When admiring the magnificent photographic prints
which are now to be seen in almost every part of the civilized world, an
involuntary sense of gratitude towards the discoverer of the collodion
process must be experienced, and it cannot but be felt how much the
world is indebted to Mr. Archer for having placed at its command the
means by which such beautiful objects are presented. How many thousands
amongst those who owe their means of subsistence to this process must
have experienced such a feeling of gratitude? It is upon such
considerations that the public have been, and still are, invited to
assist in securing for the orphan children of the late Mr. Archer some
fitting appreciation of the service which he rendered to science, art,
his country--nay, to the whole world.

"M. Digby Wyatt, _Chairman_,

"Jabez Hogg, _Secretary to Committee_.

"_Society of Arts, July, 1858._"

After reading that report, and especially Mr. Hunt's remarks, it will
appear evident to all that even that act of charity, gratitude, and
justice could not be carried through without someone raising objections
and questioning the claims of Frederick Scott Archer as the original
inventor of the Collodion process. Nearly all the biographers and
historians of photography have coupled other names with Archer's, either
as assistants or co-inventors, but I have evidence in my possession that
will prove that neither Fry nor Diamond afforded Archer any assistance
whatever, and that Archer preceded all the other claimants in his
application of collodion. In support of the first part of this
statement, I shall give extracts from Mrs. Archer's letter, now in my
possession, which, I think, will set that matter at rest for ever. Mrs.
Archer, writing from Bishop Stortford on December 7th, 1857, says, "When
Mr. A. prepared pupils for India he always taught the paper process as
well as the Collodion, for fear the chemicals should cause
disappointment in a hot climate, as I believe that the negative paper he
prepared differed from that in general use. I enclosed a specimen made
in our glass house.

"In Mr. Hunt's book, as well as Mr. Horne's, Mr. Fry's name is joined
with Mr. Archer's as the originators of the Collodion process.

"Should Mr. Hunt seem to require any corroboration of what I have stated
respecting Mr. Fry, I can send you many of Mr. Fry's notes of
invitation, when Mr. A. merely gave him lessons in the application of
collodion, and Mr. Brown gave me the correspondence which passed between
him and Mr. Fry on the subject at the time Mr. Home's book was
published. I did not send up those papers, for, unless required, it is
useless to dwell on old grievances, but I should like such a man as Mr.
Hunt to understand _how_ the association of the two names originated."

As to priority of application, the following letter ought to settle that
point:--

"_Alma Cottage, Bishop Stortford._

"_9th December, 1857._

"Sir,--My hunting has at length proved successful. In the enclosed book
you will find notes respecting the paper pulp, albumen, tanno-gelatine,
and collodion. You will therein see Mr. Archer's notes of iod-collodion
in 1849. You may wonder that I could not find this note-book before, but
the numbers of papers that there are, and the extreme disorder, defy
description. My head was in such a deplorable state before I left that I
could arrange nothing. Those around me were most anxious to destroy _all
the papers_, and I had great trouble to keep all with Mr. Archer's
handwriting upon them, however dirty and rubbishing they might appear,
so they were huddled together, a complete chaos. I look back with the
greatest thankfulness that my brain did not completely lose its balance,
for I had not a single relative who entered into Mr. Archer's pursuits,
so that they could not possibly assist me.

"Mr. Archer being of so reserved a character, I had to _find out_ where
everything was, and my search has been amongst different things. I need
not tell you that I hope this dirty enclosure will be taken care of.

"The paper pulp occupied much time; in fact, notes were only made of
articles which had been much tried, which might probably be brought into
use.--I am, sir, yours faithfully,

"_J. Hogg, Esq._
F. G. Archer."

If the foregoing is not evidence sufficient, I have by me a very good
_glass positive_ of Hever Castle, Kent, which was taken in the spring of
1849, and two collodion negatives made by Mr. Archer in the autumn of
1848; and these dates are all vouched for by Mr. Jabez Hogg, who was Mr.
Archer's medical attendant and friend, and knew him long before he began
his experiments with collodion--whereas I cannot find a trace even of
the _suggestion_ of the application of collodion in the practice of
photography either by Gustave Le Gray or J. R. Bingham prior to 1849;
while Mr. Archer's note-book proves that he was not only iodizing
collodion at that date, but making experiments with paper pulp and
_gelatine_; so that Mr. Archer was not only the inventor of the
collodion process, but was on the track of its destroyer even at that
early date. He also published his method of bleaching positives and
intensifying negatives with bichloride of mercury.

Frederick Scott Archer was born at Bishop Stortford in 1813, but there
is little known of his early life, and what little there is I will allow
Mrs. Archer to tell in her own way.

"Dear Sir,--I do not know whether the enclosed is what you require; if
not, be kind enough to let me know, and I must try to supply you with
something better. I thought you merely required particulars relating to
photography. Otherwise Mr. Archer's career was a singular one: Losing
his parents in childhood, he lived in a world of his own; I think you
know he was apprenticed to a bullion dealer in the city, where the most
beautiful antique gems and coins of all nations being constantly before
him, gave him the desire to model the figures, and led him to the study
of numismatics. He worked so hard at nights at these pursuits that his
master gave up the last two years of his time to save his life. He only
requested him to be on the premises, on account of his extreme
confidence in him.

"Many other peculiarities I could mention, but I dare say you know them
already.

"I will send a small case to you, containing some early specimens and
gutta-percha negatives, with a copy of Mr. A.'s portrait, which I found
on leaving Great Russell Street, and have had several printed from it.
It is not a good photograph, but I think you will consider it a
likeness. I am, yours faithfully,

"_J. Hogg, Esq._
F. G. Archer."

Frederick Scott Archer pursued the double occupation of sculptor and
photographer at 105, Great Russell Street. It was there he so
persistently persevered in his photographic experiments, and there he
died in May, 1857, and was interred in Kensal Green Cemetery. A
reference to the report of the Committee will show what was done for his
bereaved family--a widow and three children. Mrs. Archer followed her
husband in March, 1858, and two of the children died early; but one,
Alice (unmarried), is still alive and in receipt of the Crown pension of
fifty pounds per annum.

While the collodion episode in the history of photography is before my
readers, and especially as the process is rapidly becoming extinct, I
think this will be a suitable place to insert Archer's instructions for
making a _soluble_ gun-cotton, iodizing collodion, developing, and
fixing the photographic image.

  _Gun-Cotton_ (_or Pyroxaline, as it was afterwards named_).

    Take of dry nitre in powder         40 parts
    Sulphuric acid                      60   "
    Cotton                               2   "

The sulphuric acid and the nitre were mixed together, and immediately
the latter was all dissolved, the gun-cotton was added and well stirred
with a glass rod for about two minutes; then the cotton was plunged into
a large bowl of water and well washed with repeated changes of water
until the acid and nitre were washed away. The cotton was then pressed
and dried, and converted into collodion by dissolving 30 grains of
gun-cotton in 18 fluid ounces of ether and 2 ounces of alcohol--putting
the cotton into the ether first, and then adding the alcohol; the
collodion allowed to settle and decanted prior to iodizing. The latter
operation was performed by adding a sufficient quantity of iodide of
silver to each ounce of the plain collodion. Mr. Archer tells how to
make the iodide of silver, but the quantity is regulated by the quantity
of alcohol in the collodion. When the iodized collodion was ready for
use, a glass plate was cleaned and coated with it, and then sensitised
by immersion in a bath of nitrate of silver solution--30 grains of
nitrate of silver to each ounce of distilled water. From three to five
minutes' immersion in the silver bath was generally sufficient to
sensitise the plate. This, of course, had to be done in what is commonly
called a _dark room_. After exposure in the camera, the picture was
developed by pouring over the surface of the plate a solution of
pyrogallic acid of the following proportions:--

    Pyrogallic acid                    5 grains
    Distilled water                   10 ounces
    Glacial acetic acid               40 minims

After the development of the picture it was washed and fixed in a
solution of hyposulphite of soda, 4 ounces to 1 pint of water. The plate
was then washed and dried. This is an epitome of the whole of Archer's
process for making either negatives or positives on glass, the
difference being effected by varying the time of exposure and
development. Of course the process was somewhat modified and simplified
by experience and commercial enterprise. Later on bromides were added to
the collodion, an iron developer employed, and cyanide of potassium as a
fixing agent; but the principle remained the same from first to last.

When pyrogallic acid was first employed in photography, it was quoted
at 21s. per oz., and, if I remember rightly, I paid 3s. for the first
_drachm_ that I purchased. On referring to an old price list I find
Daguerreotype plates, 2-1/2 by 2 inches, quoted at 12s. per dozen;
nitrate of silver, 5s. 6d. per oz.; chloride of gold, 5s. 6d. for
15 grains; hyposulphite of soda at 5s. per lb.; and a half-plate rapid
portrait lens by Voightlander, of Vienna, at £60. Those were the days
when photography might well be considered expensive, and none but the
wealthy could indulge in its pleasures and fascinations.

While I lived in Glasgow, competition was tolerably keen, even then,
and amongst the best "glass positive men" were Messrs. Bibo, Bowman,
J. Urie, and Young and Sun, as the latter styled himself; and in
photographic portraiture, plain and coloured, by the collodion process,
were Messrs. Macnab and J. Stuart. From the time that I relinquished the
Daguerreotype process, in 1857, I devoted my attention to the production
of high-class collodion negatives. I never took kindly to _glass
positives_, though I had done some as early as 1852. They were never
equal in beauty and delicacy to a good Daguerreotype, and their low tone
was to me very objectionable. I considered the Ferrotype the best form
of collodion positive, and did several of them, but my chief work was
plain and coloured prints from collodion negatives, also small portraits
on visiting cards.

Early in January, 1860, my home and business were destroyed by fire, and
I lost all my old and new specimens of Daguerreotypes and photographs,
all my Daguerreotype and other apparatus, and nearly everything I
possessed. As I was only partially insured, I suffered considerable
loss. After settling my affairs I decided on going to America again and
trying my luck in New York. Family ties influenced this decision
considerably, or I should not have left Glasgow, where I was both
prosperous and respected. To obtain an idea of the latest and best
aspects of photography, I visited London and Paris.

The carte-de-visite form of photography had not exhibited much vitality
at that period in London, but in Paris it was beginning to be popular.
While in London I accompanied Mr. Jabez Hughes to the meeting of the
Photographic Society, Feb. 7th, 1860, the Right Honorable the Lord Chief
Baron Pollock in the chair, when the report of the Collodion Committee
was delivered. The committee, consisting of F. Bedford, P. Delamotte,
Dr. Diamond, Roger Fenton, Jabez Hughes, T. A. Malone, J. H. Morgan, H.
P. Robinson, Alfred Rosling, W. Russell Sedgefield, J. Spencer, and T.
R. Williams, strongly recommended Mr. Hardwich's formula. That was my
first visit to the Society, and I certainly did not think then that I
should ever see it again, or become and be a member for twenty-two
years.

I sailed from Liverpool in the ss. _City of Baltimore_ in March, and
reached New York safely in April, 1860. I took time to look about me,
and visited all the "galleries" on Broadway, and other places, before
deciding where I should locate myself. Many changes had taken place
during the six years I had been absent. Nearly all the old
Daguerreotypists were still in existence, but all of them, with the
exception of Mr. Brady, had abandoned the Daguerreotype process, and Mr.
Brady only retained it for small work. Most of the chief galleries had
been moved higher up Broadway, and a mania of magnificence had taken
possession of most of the photographers. Mr. Anson was the first to make
a move in that direction by opening a "superb gallery" on the ground
floor in Broadway right opposite the Metropolitan Hotel, filling his
windows with life-sized photographs coloured in oil at the back, which
he called Diaphanotypes. He did a large business in that class of work,
especially among visitors from the Southern States; but that was soon to
end, for already there were rumours of war, but few then gave it any
serious consideration.

Messrs. Gurney and Sons' gallery was also a very fine one, but not on
the ground floor. Their "saloon" was upstairs, This house was one of the
oldest in New York in connection with photography. In the very early
days, Mr. Gurney, senr., was one of the most eminent "professors" of the
Daguerreotype process, and was one of the committee appointed to wait
upon the Rev. Wm. Hill, a preacher in the Catskills, to negotiate with
the reverend gentlemen (?) for his vaunted secret of photography in
natural colours. As the art progressed, or the necessity for change
arose, Mr. Gurney was ready to introduce every novelty, and, in later
years, in conjunction with Mr. Fredericks, then in partnership with Mr.
Gurney, he introduced the "Hallotype," not Hillotype, and the
"Ivorytype." Both these processes had their day. The former was
photography spoiled by the application of Canada balsam and very little
art; the latter was the application of a great deal of art to spoil a
photograph. The largest of all the large galleries on Broadway was that
of Messrs. Fredericks and Co. The whole of the ground and first floor
were thrown into one "crystal front," and made a very attractive
appearance. The windows were filled with life-sized portraits painted in
oil, crayons, and other styles, and the walls of the interior were
covered with life-sized portraits of eminent men and beautiful women.
The floor was richly carpeted, and the furnishing superb. A gallery ran
round the walls to enable the visitors to view the upper pictures, and
obtain a general view of the "saloon," the _tout ensemble_ of which was
magnificent. From the ground floor an elegant staircase led to the
galleries, toilet and waiting rooms, and thence to the operating rooms
or studios. Some of the Parisian galleries were fine, but nothing to be
compared with Fredericks', and the finest establishment in London did
not bear the slightest comparison.

Mr. Brady was another of the early workers of the Daguerreotype process,
and probably the last of his _confrères_ to abandon it. He commenced
business in the early forties in Fulton Street, a long way down
Broadway, but as the sea of commerce pressed on and rolled over the
strand of fashion, he was obliged to move higher and higher up Broadway,
until he reached the corner of Tenth Street, nearly opposite Grace
Church. Mr. Brady appeared to set the Franklin maxim, "Three removes as
bad as a fire," at defiance, for he had made three or four moves to my
knowledge--each one higher and higher to more elegant and expensive
premises, each remove entailing the cost of more and more expensive
furnishing, until his latest effort in upholstery culminated in a superb
suite of black walnut and green silk velvet; in short, Longfellow's
"Excelsior" appeared to be the motto of Mr. Brady.

Messrs. Mead Brothers, Samuel Root, James Cady, and George Adams ought
to receive "honourable mention" in connection with the art in New York,
for they were excellent operators in the Daguerreotype days, and all
were equally good manipulators of the collodion process and silver
printing.

After casting and sounding about, like a mariner seeking a haven on a
strange coast, I finally decided on buying a half interest in the
gallery of Mead Brothers, 805, Broadway; Harry Mead retaining his, or
his wife's share of the business, but leaving me to manage the "uptown"
branch. This turned out to be an unfortunate speculation, which involved
me in a lawsuit with one of Mead's creditors, and compelled me to get
rid of a very unsatisfactory partner in the best way and at any cost
that I could. Mead's creditor, by some process of law that I could never
understand, stripped the gallery of all that belonged to my partner, and
even put in a claim for half of the fixtures. Over this I lost my
temper, and had to pay, not the piper, but the lawyer. I also found that
Mrs. Henry Mead had a bill of sale on her husband's interest in the
business, which I ended by buying her out. Husband and wife are very
seldom one in America. Soon after getting the gallery into my own hands,
refurnishing and rearranging, the Prince of Wales's visit to New York
was arranged, and as the windows of my gallery commanded a good view of
Broadway, I let most of them very advantageously, retaining the use of
one only for myself and family. There were so many delays, however, at
the City Hall and other places on the day of the procession, that it was
almost dark when the Prince reached 805, Broadway, and all my guests
were both weary of waiting so long, and disappointed at seeing so little
of England's future King.

When I recommenced business on Broadway on my own account there was only
one firm taking cartes-de-visite, and I introduced that form of portrait
to my customers, but they did not take very kindly to it, though a house
not far from me was doing a very good business in that style at three
dollars a dozen, and Messrs. Rockwood and Co. appeared to be
monopolising all the carte-de-visite business that was being done in New
York; but eventually I got in the thin edge of the wedge by exhibiting
_four_ for one dollar. This ruse brought in sitters, and I began to do
very well until Abraham Lincoln issued his proclamation calling for one
hundred thousand men to stamp out the Southern rebellion. I remember
that morning most distinctly. It was a miserably wet morning in April,
1861, and all kinds of business received a shock. People looked
bewildered, and thought of nothing but saving their money and reducing
their expenses. It had a blighting effect on my business, and I, not
knowing, like others, where it might land me, determined to get rid of
my responsibilities at any cost, so I sold my business for a great deal
less than it was worth, and at a very serious loss. The outbreak of that
gigantic civil war and a severe family bereavement combined, induced me
to return to England as soon as possible. Before leaving America, in all
probability for ever, I went to Washington to bid some friends farewell,
and while there I went into Virginia with a friend on Sunday morning,
July 21st, and in the afternoon saw the smoke and heard the cannonading
of the first battle of Bull Run, and witnessed, next morning, the rout
and rush into Washington of the demoralised fragments of the Federal
army. I wrote and sent a description of the stampede to a friend in
Glasgow, which he handed over to the _Glasgow Herald_ for publication,
and I have reason to believe that my description of that memorable rout
was the first that was published in Great Britain.

As soon as I could settle my affairs I left New York with my family, and
arrived in London on the 15th of September, 1861. It was a beautiful
sunny day when I landed, and, after all the trouble and excitement I had
so recently seen and experienced, London, despite its business and
bustle, appeared like a heaven of peace.

Mr. Jabez Hughes was about the last to wish me "God speed" when I left
England, so he was the first I went to see when I returned. I found, to
my disappointment, that he was in Paris, but Mrs. Hughes gave me a
hearty welcome. After a few days' sojourn in London I went to Glasgow
with the view of recommencing in that city, where I had many friends;
but while there, and on the very day that I was about to sign for the
lease of a house, Mr. Hughes wrote to offer me the management of his
business in Oxford Street. It did not take me long to decide, and by
return post that same night I wrote accepting the offer. I concluded all
other arrangements as quickly as possible, returned to London, and
entered upon my managerial duties on the 1st November, 1861. I had long
wished and looked out for an opportunity to settle in London and enlarge
my circle of photographic acquaintance and experience, so I put on my
new harness with alacrity and pleasure.

Among the earliest of my new acquaintances was George Wharton Simpson,
Editor of the Photographic News. He called at Oxford Street one evening
while I was the guest of Mr. Hughes, by whom we were introduced, and we
spent a long, chatty, and pleasant evening together, talking over my
American experience and matters photographic; but, to my surprise, much
of our conversation appeared in the next issue of his journal (_vide_
Photographic News, October 11th, 1861, pp. 480-1). But that was a power,
I afterwards ascertained, which he possessed to an eminent degree, and
which he utilized most successfully at his "Wednesday evenings at home,"
when he entertained his photographic friends at Canonbury Road, N. Very
delightful and enjoyable those evenings were, and he never failed to
cull paragraphs for the Photographic News from the busy brains of his
numerous visitors. He was a genial host, and his wife was a charming
hostess; and his daughter Eva, now the wife of William Black the
novelist, often increased the charm of those evenings by the exhibition
of her musical abilities. It is often a wonder to me that other editors
of photographic journals don't pursue a similar plan, for those social
re-unions were not only pleasant, but profitable to old friend Simpson.
Through Mr. Simpson's "at homes," and my connection with Mr. Hughes, I
made the acquaintance of nearly all the eminent photographers of the
time, amongst whom may be mentioned W. G. Lacy, of Ryde, I.W. The latter
was a very sad and brief acquaintanceship, for he died in Mr. Hughes's
sitting-room on the 21st November, 1861, in the presence of G. Wharton
Simpson, Jabez Hughes, and myself, and, strangely enough, it was
entirely through this death that Mr. Hughes went to Ryde, and became
photographer to the Queen. Mr. Lacy made his will in Mr. Hughes's
sitting-room, and Mr. Simpson sole executor, who sold Mr. Lacy's
business in the Arcade, Ryde, I.W., to Mr. Hughes, and in the March
following he took possession, leaving me solely in charge of his
business in Oxford Street, London.

About this time Mr. Skaife introduced his ingenious pistolgraph, but it
was rather in advance of the times, for the dry plates then in the
market were not quite quick enough for "snap shots," though I have seen
some fairly good pictures taken with the apparatus.

At this period a fierce controversy was raging about lunar photography,
but it was all unnecessary, as the moon had photographed herself under
the guidance of Mr. Whipple, of Boston, U.S., as early as 1853, and all
that was required to obtain a lunar picture was sufficient exposure.

On December 3rd, 1861, Thomas Ross read a paper and exhibited a
panoramic lens and camera at a meeting of the Photographic Society, and
on the 15th October, 1889, I saw the same apparatus, in perfect
condition, exhibited as a curiosity at the Photographic Society's
Exhibition. No wonder the apparatus was in such good condition, for I
should think it had never been used but once. The plates were 10 inches
long, and curved like the crescent of a new moon. Cleaning board, dark
slide, and printing-frame, were all curved. Fancy the expense and
trouble attending the use of such an apparatus; I should think it had
few buyers. Certainly I never sold one, and I never met with any person
who had bought one.

Amateurs have ever been the most restless and discontented disciples of
the "Fathers of Photography," always craving for something new, and
seeking to lessen their labours and increase their facilities, and to
these causes we are chiefly indebted for the marvellous development and
radical changes of photography. No sooner was the Daguerreotype process
perfected than it was superseded by _wet_ collodion, and that was barely
a workable process when it became the anxiety of every amateur to have a
_dry_ collodion process, and multitudes of men were at work endeavouring
to make, modify, or invent a means that would enable them to use the
camera as a sort of sketch-book, and make their finished picture at home
at their leisure. Hence the number of Dry Plate processes published
about this period, and the controversies carried on by the many
enthusiastic champions of the various methods. Beer was pitted against
tea and coffee, honey against albumen, gin against gum, but none of them
were equal to wet collodion.

The International Exhibition of 1862 did little or nothing in the
interests of photography. It is true there was a scattered and skied
exhibition at the top of a high tower, but as there was no "lift," I
suspect very few people went to see the exhibits. I certainly was not
there more than once myself. Among the exhibitors of apparatus were the
names of Messrs. McLean, Melhuish and Co., Murray and Heath, P. Meagher,
T. Ottewill and Co., but there was nothing very remarkable among their
exhibits. There was some very good workmanship, but the articles
exhibited were not beyond the quality of the every-day manufacture of
the best camera and apparatus makers.

The chief contributors to the exhibition of photographs were Messrs.
Mayall, T. R. Williams, and Herbert Watkins in portraiture; and in
landscapes, &c., Messrs. Francis Bedford, Rejlander, Rouch, Stephen
Thompson, James Mudd, William Mayland, H. P. Robinson, and Breeze. By
some carelessness or stupidity on the part of the attendants or
constructors of the Exhibition, nearly all Mr. Breeze's beautiful
exhibits--stereoscopes and stereoscopic transparencies--were destroyed
by the fall of a skylight. Perhaps the best thing that the International
Exhibition did for photography was the issue of the Jurors' Report, as
it was prefaced with a brief History of Photography up to date, not
perfectly correct regarding the Rev. J. B. Reade's labours, but
otherwise good, the authorship of which I attribute to the late Dr.
Diamond; but the awards--ah! well, awards never were quite satisfactory.
Commendees thought they should have been medalists, and the latter
thought something else. Thomas Ross, J. H. Dallmeyer, and Negretti and
Zambra were the English recipients of medals, and Voightlander and Son
and C. Dietzler received medals for their lenses.

Early in 1862 the Harrison Globe Lens was attracting attention, and, as
much was claimed for it both in width of angle and rapidity, I imported
from New York a 5 by 4 and a whole-plate as samples. The 5 by 4 was an
excellent lens, and embraced a much wider angle than any other lens
known, and Mr. Hughes employed it to photograph the bridal bed and suite
of apartments of the Prince and Princess of Wales at Osborne, Isle of
Wight, and I feel certain that no other lens would have done the work so
well. I have copies of the photograph by me now. They are circular
pictures of five inches in diameter, and every article and decoration
visible in the chambers are as sharp and crisp as possible. I showed the
lens to Mr. Dallmeyer, and he thought he could make a better one; his
Wide-Angle Rectilinear was the result.

Mr. John Pouncy, of Dorchester, introduced his "patent process for
permanent printing" this year, but it never made much headway. It was an
oleagenous process, mixed with bichromate of potash, or bitumen of
Judea, and always smelt of bad fat. I possessed examples at the time,
but took no care of them, and no one else did in all probability; but it
appeared to me to be the best means of transferring photographic
impressions to wood blocks for the engraver's purpose. Thomas Sutton,
B.A., published a book on Pouncy's process and carbon printing, but the
process had inherent defects which were not overcome, so nothing could
make it a success. Sutton's "History of Carbon Printing" was
sufficiently interesting to attract both readers and buyers at the time.

I have previously stated that Daguerre introduced and left his process
in an imperfect and uncommercial condition, and that it was John
Frederick Goddard, then lecturer at the Adelaide Gallery, London, and
inventor of the polariscope, who discovered the accelerating properties
of bromine, and by which, with iodine, he obtained a bromo-iodide of
silver on the surface of the silvered plate employed in the
Daguerreotype process, thereby reducing the time of exposure from twenty
minutes to twenty seconds, and making the process available for
portraiture with an ordinary double combination lens. Somehow or other,
this worthy gentleman had fallen into adverse circumstances, and was
obliged to eat the bread of charity in his old age. The facts of this
sad case coming to the knowledge of Mr. Hughes and others, an appeal,
written by Mr. Hughes, was published in the Photographic News, December
11th, 1863. As Mr. Hughes and myself had benefitted by Mr. Goddard's
improvement in the practice of the Daguerreotype, we took an active
interest in the matter, and, by canvassing friends and customers,
succeeded in obtaining a considerable proportion of the sum total
subscribed for the relief of Mr. Goddard. Enough was obtained to make
him independent and comfortable for the remainder of his life. Mr. T. R.
Williams was appointed almoner by the committee, but his office was not
for long, as Mr. Goddard died Dec. 28th, 1866.

On the 5th of April, 1864, I attended a meeting of the Photographic
Society at King's College, and heard Mr. J. W. Swan read a paper on his
new patent carbon process. It was a crowded meeting, and an intense
interest pervaded the minds of both members and visitors. The examples
exhibited were very beautiful, but at that early stage they began to
show a weakness, which clung to the collodion support as long as it was
employed. Some of the specimens which I obtained at the time left the
mounting boards, and the films were torn asunder by opposing forces, and
the pictures completely destroyed. I have one in my possession now in
that unsatisfactory condition. Mr. Swan's process was undoubtedly an
advance in the right direction, but it was still imperfect, and required
further improvement. Many of the members failed to see where the patent
rights came in, and Mr. Swan himself appeared to have qualms of
conscience on the subject, for he rather apologetically announced in his
paper, that he had obtained a patent, though his first intention was to
allow it to be practised without any restriction. I think myself it
would have been wiser to have adhered to his original intention;
however, it was left to others to do more to advance the carbon process
than he did.

During this year (1865) an effort was made to establish a claim of
priority in favour of Thomas Wedgwood for the honour of having made
photographs on silver plates, and negatives on paper, and examples of
such alleged early works were submitted to the inspection of members of
the Photographic Society, but it was most satisfactorily determined that
the photographs on the silver plates were weak Daguerreotypes of a
posterior date, and that the photographic prints, on paper, of a
breakfast table were from a calotype negative taken by Fox Talbot.
Messrs. Henneman and Dr. Diamond proved this most conclusively. Other
prints then exhibited, and alleged to be photographs, were nothing but
prints from metal plates, produced by some process of engraving,
probably Aquatint. I saw some of the examples at the time, and, as
recently as Nov. 1st, 1889, I have seen some of them again, and I think
the "Breakfast Table" and a view of "Wedgwood's Pottery" are silver
prints, though very much faded, from calotype negatives. The other
prints, such as the "Piper" and "A Vase," are from engraved plates. No
one can desire to lessen Thomas Wedgwood's claims to pre-eminence among
the early experimentalists with chloride of silver, but there cannot now
be any denial to the claims of the Rev. J. B. Reade in 1837, and Fox
Talbot in 1840, of being the earliest producers of photographic
negatives on paper, from which numerous prints could be obtained.

The Wothlytype printing process was introduced to the notice of
photographers and the public this year: first, by a blatant article in
the _Times_, which was both inaccurate and misleading, for it stated
that both nitrate of silver and hyposulphite of soda were dispensed
within the process; secondly, by the issue of advertisements and
prospectuses for the formation of a Limited Liability Company. I went
to the Patent Office and examined the specification, and found that
both nitrate of silver and hyposulphite of soda were essential to the
practice of the process, and that there was no greater guarantee of
permanency in the use of the Wothlytype than in ordinary silver
printing.

On March 14th, 1865, George Wharton Simpson, editor and proprietor of
the _Photographic News_, read a paper at a meeting of the Photographic
Society on a new printing process with collodio-chloride of silver on
paper. Many beautiful examples were exhibited, but the method never
became popular, chiefly on account of the troubles of toning with
sulpho-cyanide of ammonium. The same or a similar process, substituting
gelatine for collodion, is known and practised now under the name of
Aristotype, but not very extensively, because of the same defects and
difficulties attending the Simpsontype. Another new method of positive
printing was introduced this year by Mr. John M. Burgess, of Norwich,
which he called "Eburneum." It was not in reality a new mode of
printing, but an ingenious application of the collodion transfer, or
stripping process. The back of the collodion positive print was coated
with a mixture of gelatine and oxide of zinc, and when dry stripped from
the glass. The finished picture resembled a print on very fine ivory,
and possessed both delicate half-tones and brilliant shadows. I possess
some of them now, and they are as beautiful as they were at first, after
a lapse of nearly quarter of a century. It was a very troublesome and
tedious process, and I don't think many people practised it. Certainly I
don't know any one that does so at the present time.

This was the year of the Dublin International Exhibition. I went to see
it and report thereon, and my opinions and criticisms of the
photographic and other departments will be found and may be perused in
"Contributions to Photographic Literature." On the whole, it was a very
excellent exhibition, and I thoroughly enjoyed the trip.

A new carbon process by M. Carey Lea was published this year. The
ingredients were similar to those employed by Swan and others, but
differently handled. No pigment was mixed with the gelatine before
exposure, but it was rubbed on after exposure and washing, and with care
any colour or number of colours might be applied, and so produce a
polychromatic picture, but I don't know any one that ever did so. I
think it could easily be applied to making photographic transfers to
blocks for the use of wood engravers.

December 5th, 1865, Mr. Walter Woodbury demonstrated and exhibited
examples of the beautiful mechanical process that bears his name to the
members of the Photographic Society. The process was not entirely
photographic. The province of photography ceased on the production of
the gelatine relief. All that followed was strictly mechanical. It is
somewhat singular that a majority of the inventions and modifications of
processes that were introduced this year related to carbon and
permanency.

Thursday, January 11th, 1866, I read, at the South London Photographic
Society, a paper on "Errors in Pictorial Backgrounds." As the paper, as
well as the discussion thereon, is published _in extenso_ in the
journals of the period, it is not necessary for me to repeat it here,
but I may as well state briefly my reasons for reading the paper. At
that time pictorial backgrounds and crowded accessories were greatly in
use, and it was seldom, if ever, that the horizontal line of the painted
background, and the horizontal line indicated by the position of the
camera, coincided. Consequently the photographic pictures obtained under
such conditions invariably exhibited this incongruity, and it was with
the hope of removing these defects, or violations of art rules and
optical laws, that I ventured to call attention to the subject and
suggest a remedy. A little later, I wrote an article, "Notes on Pictures
in the National Gallery," which was published in the _Photographic News_
of March 29th, in support of the arguments already adduced in my paper
on "Errors in Pictorial Backgrounds," and I recommend every portrait
photographer to study those pictures.

February 13th I was elected a member of the Photographic Society of
London.

Quite a sensation was created in the Spring of this year by the
introduction of what were termed "Magic Photographs." Some one was
impudent enough to patent the process, although it was nothing but a
resurrection of what was published in 1840 by Sir John Herschel, which
consisted of bleaching an ordinary silver print to invisibility with
bichloride of mercury, and restoring it by an application of
hyposulphite of soda. I introduced another form of magic photograph, in
various monochromatic colours, similar to Sir John Herschel's
cyanotype, and I have several of these pictures in my possession now,
both blue, purple, and red, dated 1866, as bright and beautiful as they
were the day they were made. But the demand for these magic photographs
was suddenly stopped by someone introducing indecent pictures. In all
probability these objectionable pictures came from abroad, and the most
scrupulous of the home producers suffered in consequence, as none of the
purchasers could possibly know what would appear when the developer or
redeveloper was applied.

On June 14th Mr. F. W. Hart read a paper, and demonstrated before the
South London Photographic Society, on his method of rendering silver
prints permanent. "A consummation devoutly to be wished," but
unfortunately some prints in my possession that were treated to a bath
of his eliminator show unmistakable signs of fading. In my opinion,
there is nothing so efficacious as warm water washing, and some prints
that I toned, fixed, and washed myself over thirty years ago, are
perfect.

The "cabinet" form of portrait was introduced this year by Mr. F. R.
Window, and it eventually became the fashionable size, and almost wiped
out the carte-de-visite. The latter, however, had held its position for
about nine years, and the time for change had arrived. Beyond the
introduction of the cabinet portrait, nothing very novel or ingenious
had been introduced, but a very good review of photography up to date
appeared in the October issue of the _British Quarterly Review_. This
was a very ably written article from the pen of my old friend, Mr.
George Wharton Simpson.

No radical improvement or advance in photography was made in 1867, but
M. Adam-Salomon created a little sensation by exhibiting some very fine
samples of his work in the Paris Exhibition. They were remarkable
chiefly for their pose, lighting, retouching, and tone. A few of them
were afterwards seen in London, and that of Dr. Diamond was probably the
most satisfactory. M. Salomon was a sculptor in Paris, and his art
training and feeling in that branch of the Fine Arts naturally assisted
him in photography.

The Duc de Luynes's prize of 8,000 francs for the best mechanical
printing process was this year awarded to M. Poitevin. In making the
award, the Commission gave a very excellent résumé of all that had
previously been done in that direction, and endeavoured to show why they
thought M. Poitevin entitled to the prize; but for all that I think it
will be difficult to prove that any of M. Poitevin's mechanical
processes ever came into use.

On June 13th, in the absence of Mr. Jabez Hughes, I read his paper,
"About Leptographic Printing," before the South London Photographic
Society. This Leptographic paper was claimed to be the invention of two
photographers in Madrid, but it was evidently only a modification of Mr.
Simpson's collodio-chloride of silver process.

About this period I got into a controversy--on very different subjects,
it is true--but it made me determine to abandon for the future the
practice of writing critical notices under the cover of a _nom de
plume_. I had, under the _nom de plume_ of "Union Jack," written in
favour of a union of _all_ the photographic societies then in London.
This brought Mr. A. H. Wall down on me, but that did not affect me very
much, nor was I personally distressed about the other, but I thought it
best to abandon a dangerous practice. Under the _nom de plume_ of "Lux
Graphicus" I had contributed a great many articles to the _Photographic
News_, and, in a review of the Society's exhibition, published Nov.
22nd, 1867, I expressed an honest opinion on Mr. Robinson's picture
entitled "Sleep." It was not so favourable and flattering, perhaps, as
he would have liked, but it was an honest criticism, and written without
any intention of giving pain or offence.

The close of this year was marked by a very sad catastrophe intimately
associated with photography, by the death of Mr. Mawson at
Newcastle-on-Tyne; he was killed by an explosion of nitro-glycerine.
Mr. Mawson, in conjunction with Mr. J. W. Swan, was one of the earliest
and most successful manufacturers of collodion, and, as early as 1852, I
made negatives with that medium, though I did not employ collodion
solely until 1857, when I abandoned for ever the beautiful and
fascinating Daguerreotype.

On Friday, December 27th, Antoine Jean François Claudet, F.R.S., &c.,
&c., died suddenly in the 71st year of his age. He was one of the
earliest workers and improvers of the Daguerreotype process in this
country, and one of the last to relinquish its practice in London. Mr.
Claudet bought a share of the English patent of Mr. Berry, the agent,
while he was a partner in the firm of Claudet and Houghton in 1840, and
commenced business as a professional Daguerreotypist soon afterwards.
Before the introduction of bromine as an accelerator by Mr. Goddard, Mr.
Claudet had discovered that chloride of iodine increased the
sensitiveness of the Daguerreotype plate, and he read a paper on that
subject before the Royal Society in 1841. He was a member of the council
of the Photographic Society for many years, and a copious contributor to
its proceedings, as well as to photographic literature. In his
intercourse with his _confrères_ he was always courteous, and when I
called upon him in 1851 he received me most kindly, I met him again in
Glasgow, and many times in London, and always considered him the best
specimen of a Frenchman I had ever met. Towards his clients he was firm,
respectful, and sometimes generous, as the following characteristic
anecdote will show. He had taken a portrait of a child, which, for some
reason or other, was not liked, and demurred at. He said, "Ah! well, the
matter is easily settled. I'll keep the picture, and return your money";
and so he thought the case was ended; but by-and-by the picture was
asked for, and he refused to give it up. Proceedings were taken to
compel him to surrender it, which he defended. In stating the case, the
counsel remarked that the child was dead. Mr. Claudet immediately
stopped the counsel and the case by exclaiming, "Ah! they did not tell
me that before. Now, I make the parents a present of the portrait." I am
happy to say that I possess a good portrait of Mr. Claudet, taken in
November, 1867, with his _Topaz lens_, 5/8-inch aperture. Strangely
enough, Mr. Claudet's studio in Regent Street was seriously damaged by
fire within a month of his death, and all his valuable Daguerreotypes,
negatives, pictures, and papers destroyed.

On April 9th, 1868, I exhibited, at the South London Photographic
Society, examples of nearly all the types of photography then known,
amongst them a Daguerreotype by Daguerre, many of which are now in the
Science Department of the South Kensington Museum, and were presented by
me to form the nucleus of a national exhibition of the rise and progress
of photography, for which I received the "thanks of the Lords of the
Council on Education," dated April 22nd, 1886.

There was nothing very remarkable done in 1868 to forward the interests
or development of photography, yet that year narrowly escaped being made
memorable, for Mr. W. H. Harrison, now editor of the _Photographic
News_, actually prepared, exposed, and developed a gelatino-bromide
dry plate, but did not pursue the matter further. 1869 also passed
without adding much to the advancement of photography, and I fear the
same may be said of 1870, with the exception of the publication, by
Thos. Sutton, of Gaudin's gelatino-iodide process.

On February 21st, 1870, Robert J. Bingham died in Brussels. When the
Daguerreotype process was first introduced to this country, Mr. Bingham
was chemical assistant to Prof. Faraday at the Royal Institution. He
took an immediate interest in the wonderful discovery, and made an
improvement in the application of bromine vapour, which entitled him to
the gratitude of all Daguerreotypists. When Mr. Goddard applied bromine
to the process, he employed "bromine water," but, in very hot weather,
the aqueous vapour condensed upon the surface of the plate, and
interrupted the sensitising process. Mr. Bingham obviated this evil by
charging hydrate of lime with bromine vapour, which not only removed the
trouble of condensation, but increased the sensitiveness of the prepared
plate. This was a great boon to all Daguerreotypists, and many a time I
thanked him mentally long before I had the pleasure of meeting him in
London. Mr. Bingham also wrote a valuable manual on the Daguerreotype
and other photographic processes, which was published by Geo. Knight and
Sons, Foster Lane, Cheapside. Some years before his death, Mr. Bingham
settled in Paris, and became a professional photographer, but chiefly as
a publisher of photographic copies of paintings and drawings.

Abel Niépce de St. Victor, best known without the Abel, died suddenly on
April 6th, 1870. Born at St. Cyr, July 26th, 1805. After passing through
his studies at the Military School of Saumur, he became an officer in a
cavalry regiment. Being studious and fond of chemistry, he was fortunate
enough to effect some saving to the Government in the dyeing of fabrics
employed in making certain military uniforms, for which he received
compensation and promotion. His photographic fame rests upon two
achievements: firstly, his application of iodized albumen to glass for
negative purposes in 1848, a process considerably in advance of Talbot's
paper negatives, but it was quickly superseded by collodion; secondly,
his researches on "heliochromy," or photography in natural colours.
Niépce de St. Victor, like others before and since, was only partially
successful in obtaining some colour reproductions, but totally
unsuccessful in rendering those colours permanent. In proof of both
these statements I will quote from the Juror's Report, on the subject,
of the International Exhibition, 1862:--"The obtaining of fixed natural
colours by means of photography still remains, as was before remarked,
to be accomplished; but the jurors have pleasure in recording that some
very striking results of experiments in this direction were forwarded
for their inspection by a veteran in photographic research and
discovery, M. Niépce de St. Victor. These, about a dozen in number, 3-1/2
by 2-1/2 inches, consisted of reproductions of prints of figures with
parti-coloured draperies. Each tint in the pictures exhibited, they were
assured, was a faithful reproduction of the original. Amongst the
colours were blues, yellows, reds, greens, &c., all very vivid. Some of
the tints gradually faded and disappeared in the light whilst under
examination, and a few remained permanent for some hours. The
possibility of producing natural colour thus established is a fact most
interesting and important, and too much praise cannot be awarded to the
skilful research which has been to this extent crowned with success. The
jury record their obligations to their chairman, Baron Gross, at whose
personal solicitation they were enabled to obtain a sight of these
remarkable pictures." Such was the condition of photography in natural
colours towards the close of 1862, and so it is now after a lapse of
twenty-eight years. In 1870 several examples of Niépce de St. Victor's
heliochromy were sent to the Photographic Society of London, and I had
them in my hands and examined them carefully in gas-light; they could
not be looked at in daylight at all. I certainly saw _faint_ traces of
colour, but whether I saw them in their original vigour, or after they
had faded, I cannot say. All I can say is that the tints were very
feeble, and that they had not been obtained _through the lens_. They
were, at their best, only contact impressions of coloured prints
obtained after many hours of exposure. The examples had been sent to the
Photographic Society with the hope of selling them for the benefit of
the widow, but the Society was too wise to invest in such evanescent
property. However, a subscription was raised both in England and France
for the benefit of the widow and orphans of Niépce de St. Victor.

December, 1870, was marked by the death of one of the eminent pioneers
of photography. On the 12th, the Rev. J. B. Reade passed away at
Bishopsbourne Rectory, Canterbury, in the sixty-ninth year of his age. I
have already, I think, established Mr. Reade's claim to the honour of
being the first to produce a photographic negative on paper developed
with gallic acid, and I regret that I am unable to trace the existence
of those two negatives alluded to in Mr. Reade's published letter. Mr.
Reade told me himself that he gave those two historic negatives to Dr.
Diamond, when Secretary to the Photographic Society, to be lodged with
that body for safety, proof, and reference; but they are not now in the
possession of the Photographic Society, and what became of them no one
knows. Several years ago I caused enquiries to be made, and Dr. Diamond
was written to by Mr. H. Baden Pritchard, then Secretary, but Dr.
Diamond's reply was to the effect that he had no recollection of them,
and that Mr. Reade was given to hallucinations. Considering the
positions that Mr. Reade held, both in the world and various learned and
scientific societies, I don't think that he could ever have been
afflicted with such a mental weakness. He was a clergyman in the Church
of England, an amateur astronomer and microscopist, one of the fathers
of photography, and a member of Council of the Photographic Society, and
President of the Microscopical Society at the time of his death. I had
many a conversation with him years ago, and I never detected either
weakness or wandering in his mind; therefore I could not doubt the truth
of his statement relative to the custodianship of the first paper
negative that was taken through the lens of a solar microscope. Mr.
Reade was a kind and affable man; and, though a great sufferer on his
last bed of sickness, he wrote loving, grateful, and Christian like
letters to many of his friends, some of which I have seen, and I have
photographed his signature to one of them to attach to his portrait,
which I happily possess.

In 1871 the coming revolution in photography was faintly heralded by Dr.
R. L. Maddox, publishing in the _British Journal of Photography_, "An
Experiment with Gelatino-Bromide." Successful as the experiment was it
did not lead to any extensive adoption of the process at the time, but
it did most unquestionably exhibit the capabilities of gelatino-bromide.

As that communication to the _British Journal of Photography_ contained
and first made public the working details of a process that was destined
to supersede collodion, I will here insert a copy of Dr. Maddox's letter
_in extenso_.

"An Experiment with Gelatino-Bromide.

"The collodio-bromide processes have for some time held a considerable
place in the pages of the _British Journal of Photography_, and obtained
such a prominent chance of being eventually the process of the day in
the dry way, that a few remarks upon the application of another medium
may perhaps not be uninteresting to the readers of the journal, though
little more can be stated than the result of somewhat careless
experiments tried at first on an exceedingly dull afternoon. It is not
for a moment supposed to be new, for the chances of novelty in
photography are small, seeing the legion of ardent workers, and the
ground already trodden by its devotees, so that for outsiders little
remains except to take the result of labours so industriously and
largely circulated through these pages, and be thankful.

"Gelatine, which forms the medium of so many printing processes, and
which doubtless is yet to form the base of many more, was tried in the
place of collodion in this manner:--Thirty grains of Nelson's gelatine
were washed in cold water, then left to swell for several hours, when
all the water was poured off, and the gelatine set in a wide-mouthed
bottle, with the addition of four drachms of pure water, and two small
drops of _aqua regia_, and then placed in a basin of hot water for
solution. Eight grains of bromide of cadmium dissolved in half a drachm
of pure water were now added, and the solution stirred gently. Fifteen
grains of nitrate of silver were next dissolved in half a drachm of
water in a test tube, and the whole taken into the dark room, when the
latter was added to the former slowly, stirring the mixture the whole
time. This gave a fine milky emulsion, and was left for a little while
to settle. A few plates of glass well cleaned were next levelled on a
metal plate put over a small lamp; they were, when fully warmed, coated
by the emulsion spread to the edges by a glass rod, then returned to
their places, and left to dry. When dry, the plates had a thin
opalescent appearance, and the deposit of bromide seemed to be very
evenly spread in the substance of the substratum.

"These plates were printed from, in succession, from different
negatives, one of which had been taken years since on albumen with
oxgall and diluted phosphoric acid, sensitised in an acid nitrate, and
developed with pyrogallic acid, furnishing a beautiful warm brown tint.

"The exposure varied from the first plate thirty seconds to a minute and
a half, as the light was very poor. No vestige of an outline appeared on
removal from the printing-frame. The plates were dipped in water to the
surface, and over them was poured a plain solution of pyrogallic acid,
four grains to the ounce of water. Soon a faint but clean image was
seen, which gradually intensified up to a certain point, then browned
all over; hence, the development in the others was stopped at an early
stage, the plate washed, and the development continued with fresh pyro,
with one drop of a ten-grain solution of nitrate of silver, then
re-washed and cleared by a solution of hyposulphite of soda.

"The resulting tints were very delicate in detail, of a colour varying
between a bistre and olive tint, and after washing dried with a
brilliant surface. The colour of the print varied greatly according to
the exposure. From the colour and delicacy it struck me that with care
to strain the gelatine, or use only the clearest portion, such a process
might be utilised for transparencies for the lantern, and the sensitive
plates be readily prepared.

"Some plates were fumed with ammonia; these fogged under the pyro
solution. The proportions set down were only taken at random, and are
certainly not as sensitive as might be procured under trials. The
remaining emulsion was left shut up in a box in the dark room, and tried
on the third day after preparation; but the sensibility had, it seems,
greatly diminished, though the emulsion, when rendered fluid by gently
warming, appeared creamy, and the bromide thoroughly suspended. Some of
this was now applied to some pieces of paper by means of a glass rod,
and hung up to surface dry, then dried fully on the warmed level plate,
and treated as sensitised paper.

"One kind of paper, that evidently was largely adulterated by some earthy
base, dried without any brilliancy, but gave, under exposure of a
negative for thirty seconds, very nicely toned prints when developed
with a weak solution of pyro. Some old albumenized paper of Marion's was
tried, the emulsion being poured both on the albumen side, and, in other
pieces, on the plain side; but the salting evidently greatly interfered,
the resulting prints being dirty-looking and greyed all over.

"These papers, fumed with ammonia, turned grey under development. They
printed very slowly, even in strong sunlight, and were none of them left
long enough to develop into a full print. After washing they were
cleared by weak hypo solution. It is very possible the iron developer
may be employed for the glass prints, provided the acidification does
not render the gelatine soft under a development.

"The slowness may depend in part on the proportions of bromide and
nitrate not being correctly balanced, especially as the ordinary, not
the anhydrous, bromide was used, and on the quantities being too small
for the proportion of gelatine. Whether the plates would be more
sensitive if used when only surface dry is a question of experiment;
also, whether other bromides than the one tried may not prove more
advantageous in the presence of the neutral salt resulting from the
decomposition, or the omission or decrease of the quantity of _aqua
regia_. Very probably also the development by gallic acid and acetate of
lead developer may furnish better results than the plain pyro.

"As there will be no chance of my being able to continue these
experiments, they are placed in their crude state before the readers of
the Journal, and may eventually receive correction and improvement under
abler hands. So far as can be judged, the process seems quite worth more
carefully conducted experiments, and, if found advantageous, adds
another handle to the photographer's wheel.

R. L. Maddox, M.D."

After perusing the above, it will be evident to any one that Dr. Maddox
very nearly arrived at perfection in his early experiments. The slowness
that he complains of was caused entirely by not washing the emulsion to
discharge the excess of bromide, and the want of density was due to the
absence of a restrainer and ammonia in the developer. He only made
positive prints from negatives; but the same emulsion, had it been
washed, would have made negatives in the camera in much less time. Thus,
it will be seen, that Dr. Maddox, like the Rev. J. B. Reade, threw the
ball, and others caught it; for the gelatine process, as given by Dr.
Maddox, is only modified, not altered, by the numerous dry plate and
gelatino-bromide paper manufacturers of to-day.

Meanwhile collodion held the field, and many practical men thought it
would never be superseded.

In this year Sir John Herschel died at a ripe old age, seventy-nine.
Photographers should revere his memory, for it was he who made
photography practical by publishing his observation that hyposulphite of
soda possessed the power of dissolving chloride and other salts of
silver.


  [Illustration: FOURTH PERIOD.
  GELATINE.

  Dr. R. L. MADDOX.
  _From Photograph by J. Thomson._
  GELATINO-BROMIDE EMULSION 1871.

  R. KENNETT.
  _From Photograph by J. Werge, 1887._
  GELATINO-BROMIDE PELLICLE 1873 DRY-PLATES 1874]




FOURTH PERIOD.

GELATINE SUCCESSFUL.


In 1873, Mr. J. Burgess, of Peckham, London, advertised his
gelatino-bromide emulsion, but as it would not keep in consequence of
decomposition setting in speedily, it was not commercial, and therefore
unsuccessful. It evidently required the addition of some preservative,
or antiseptic, to keep it in a workable condition, and Mr. J. Traill
Taylor, editor of the _British Journal of Photography_, made some
experiments in that direction by adding various essential oils; but Mr.
Gray--afterwards the well-known dry plate maker--was most successful in
preserving the gelatine emulsion from decomposition by the addition of a
little oil of peppermint, but it was not the emulsion form of
gelatino-bromide of silver that was destined to secure its universal
adoption and success.

At a meeting of the South London Photographic Society, held in the large
room of the Society of Arts, John Street, Adelphi, Mr. Burgess
endeavoured to account for his emulsion decomposing, but he did not
suggest a remedy, so the process ceased to attract further attention.
Mr. Kennett was present, and it was probably Mr. Burgess's failure with
emulsion that induced him to make his experiments with a sensitive
pellicle. Be that as it may, Mr. Kennett did succeed in making a
workable gelatino-bromide pellicle, and obtained a patent for it on the
20th of November, 1873. I procured some, and tried it at once. It gave
excellent results, but preparing the plates was a messy and sticky
operation, which I feared would be prejudicial to its usefulness and
success. This I reported to Mr. Kennett immediately, and found that
his own experience corroborated mine, for he had already received
numerous complaints of this objection, while others failed through
misapprehension of his instruction; and very comical were some of these
misinterpretations. One attempted to coat the plates with the _end_ of
the stirring-rod, while another set them to drain in a rack, and those
that did succeed in coating the plates properly, invariably spoiled
them by over-exposure or in development. He was overwhelmed with
correspondence and visitors, and to lessen his troubles I strongly
advised him to prepare the plates himself, and sell them in that form
ready for use. He took my advice, and in March, 1874, issued his first
batch of gelatino-bromide dry plates; but even that did not remove his
vexation of spirit, nor lessen his troublesome correspondence. Most of
his clients were sceptical, and exposed the plates too long, or worked
under wet-plate conditions in their dark rooms, and fog and failure were
the natural consequences. Most, if not all, of his clients at that time
were amateurs, and it was not until years after, that professional
photographers adopted the dry and abandoned the wet process. In fact, it
is doubtful if the profession ever tried Mr. Kennett's dry plates at
all, for it was not until J. W. Swan and Wratten and Wainwright issued
their dry plates, that I could induce any professional photographer to
give these new plates a trial, and I have a very vivid recollection
of the scepticism and conservatism exhibited by the most eminent
photographers on the first introduction of gelatino-bromide dry plates.

For example, when I called upon Messrs. Elliott and Fry to introduce to
their notice these rapid plates, I saw Mr. Fry, and told him how rapid
they were. He was incredulous, and smilingly informed me that I was an
enthusiast. It was a dull November morning, 1878, and I challenged him,
not to fight, but to give me an opportunity of producing as good a
picture in quarter the time they were giving in the studio, no matter
what that time was. This rather astonished him, and he invited me up to
the studio to prove my statement. I ascertained that they were giving
_ninety_ seconds--a minute and a half!--on a wet collodion plate, 10 by
8. I knew their size, and had it with me, as well as the developer. Mr.
Fry stood and told the operator, Mr. Benares, to take the time from me.
Looking at the quality of the light, I gave _twenty_ seconds, but Mr.
Benares was disposed to be incredulous also, and, after counting twenty,
went on with "one for the plate, and one more for Mr. Werge," but I told
him to stop, or I would have nothing more to do with the business. The
plate had twenty-two or three seconds' exposure, and when I developed in
their dark room, it was just those two or three seconds over-exposed.
Nevertheless, Mr. Fry brought me a print from that negative in a few
days, and acknowledged that it was one of the finest negatives he had
ever seen. They were convinced, and adopted the new dry plates
immediately. But it was not so with all, for many of the most prominent
photographers would not at first have anything to do with gelatine
plates, and remained quite satisfied with collodion; but the time came
when they were glad to change their opinion, and give up the wet for
the dry plates; but it was a long time, for Mr. Kennett introduced his
dry plates in 1874, and it was not until 1879 and 1880 that professional
photographers had adopted and taken kindly to gelatine plates generally.

With amateurs it was very different, and many of their exhibits in the
various exhibitions were from gelatine negatives obtained upon plates
prepared by themselves, or commercial makers. In the London Photographic
Society's exhibition of 1874, and following, several prints from
gelatine negatives were exhibited, and in 1879 they were pretty general.
Among the many exhibited that year was Mr. Gale's swallow-picture,
which created at the time a great deal of interest and controversy, and
Mr. Gale was invited over and over again to acknowledge whether the
appearance of the bird was the result of skill, accident, or "trickery;"
but I don't think that he ever gratified anyone's curiosity on the
subject. I can, however, state very confidently that he was innocent of
any "trickery" in introducing the bird by double printing, for the late
Mr. Dudley Radcliffe told me at the time that he (Mr. Radcliffe) not
only prepared the plate, but developed the negative, and was surprised
to see the bird there. This may have been the reason why Mr. Gale was so
reticent on the subject; but I am anticipating, and must go back to
preserve my plan of chronological progression.

In 1875 a considerable impetus was given to carbon printing, both for
small work and enlarging by the introduction of the Lambertype process.
Similar work had been done before, but, as Mr. Leon Lambert used to say,
he made it "facile"; and he certainly did so, and induced many
photographers to adopt his beautiful, but troublesome, chromotype
process. There were two Lamberts in the tent--one a very clever
manipulator, the other a clever advertiser--and between the two they
managed to sell a great many licences, and carry away a considerable sum
of money. I was intimate with them both while they remained in England,
and they were both pleasant and honourable men.

On January 18th, 1875, O. G. Rejlander died, much to the regret of all
who took an interest in the art phase of photography. Rejlander has
himself told us how, when, and where he first fell in love with
photography. In 1851 he was not impressed with the Daguerreotypes at the
great exhibition, nor with "reddish landscape photographs" that he saw
in Regent Street; but when in Rome, in 1852, he was struck with the
beauty of some photographs of statuary, which he bought and studied,
and made up his mind to study photography as soon as he returned to
England. How he did that will be best told by himself:--"In 1853, having
inquired in London for the best teacher, I was directed to Henneman. We
agreed for so much for three or five lessons; but, as I was in a hurry
to get back to the country, I took all the lessons in one afternoon!
Three hours in the calotype and waxed-paper process, and half-an-hour
sufficed for the collodion process!! He spoke, I wrote; but I was too
clever. It would have saved me a year or more of trouble and expense had
I attended carefully to the rudiments of the art for a month." His first
attempt at "double printing" was exhibited in London in 1855, and was
named in the catalogue, _group printed from three negatives_. Again, I
must allow Mr. Rejlander to describe his reasons for persevering in the
art of "double printing":--"I had taken a group of two. They were
expressive and composed well. The light was good, and the chemistry of
it successful. A very good artist was staying in the neighbourhood,
engaged on some commission. He called; saw the picture; was very much
delighted with it, and so was I. Before he left my house he looked at
the picture again, and said it was 'marvellous,' but added, 'Now, if I
had drawn that, I should have introduced another figure between them, or
some light object, to keep them together. You see, there is where you
photographers are at fault. Good morning!' I snapped my fingers after he
left--but not at him--and exclaimed aloud, 'I can do it!' Two days
afterwards I called at my artist-friend's hotel as proud as--anybody. He
looked at my picture and at me, and took snuff twice. He said, 'This is
another picture.' 'No,' said I, 'it is the same, except with the
addition you suggested.' 'Never,' he exclaimed; 'and how is it possible?
You should patent that!'" Rejlander was too much of an artist to take
anything to the Patent Office.

When I first saw his celebrated composition picture, "The Two Ways of
Life," in the Art Treasures Exhibition at Manchester in 1857, I
wondered how he could have got so many men and women to become models,
and be able to sit or stand in such varied and strained positions for
the length of time then required by the wet collodion process; but my
wonder ceased when I became acquainted with him in after years, and
ascertained that he had the command of a celebrated troupe, who gave
_tableaux vivants_ representations of statues and groups from paintings
under the direction and name of "Madame Wharton's _pose plastique_
troupe." What became of the original "Two Ways of Life" I do not know,
but the late Henry Greenwood possessed it at the time of Rejlander's
death, for I remember endeavouring to induce Mr. Greenwood to allow it
to be offered as a bait to the highest contributor to the Rejlander
fund; but Mr. Greenwood's characteristic reply was, "Take my purse, but
leave me my 'Two Ways of Life.'" Mr. Rejlander kindly gave me a reduced
copy of his "Two Ways of Life," and many other examples of his works,
both in the nude and semi-nude. Fortunately Rejlander did not confine
himself to such productions, but made hundreds of draped studies, both
comic and serious, such as "Ginx's Baby," "Did She?," "Beyond the Bible,"
and "Homeless." Where are they all now? I fear most of them have faded
away, for Rejlander was a somewhat careless operator, and he died before
the more permanent process of platinum printing was introduced. When
Rejlander died, his widow tried to make a living by printing from his
negatives, but I fear they soon got scattered. Rejlander was a genial
soul and a pleasant companion, and he had many kind friends among
members of the Solar Club, as well as other clubs with which he was
associated.

There is one more death in this year to be recorded, that of Thomas
Sutton, B.A., the founder and for many years editor of _Photographic
Notes_, and the inventor of a panoramic camera of a very clumsy
character that bore his name, and that was all. Mr. Sutton was a very
clever man with rather warped notions, and in the management of his
_Photographic Notes_ he descended to the undignified position of a
caricaturist, and published illustrations of an uncomplimentary
description, some of which were offensive in the extreme, and created a
great deal of irritation in some minds at the time.

In 1877 Carey Lea gave his ferrous-oxalate developer to the world, but
it was not welcomed by many English photographers for negative
development, though it possessed many advantages over alkaline pyro. It
was, however, generally employed by foreign photographers, and is now
largely in use by English photographers, especially for the development
of bromide paper, either for contact printing or enlargements. In the
early part of this year, Messrs. Wratten and Wainwright commenced to
make gelatino-bromide dry plates, and during the hot summer months Mr.
Wratten found it necessary to precipitate the gelatine emulsion with
alcohol. This removed the necessity of dialysing, and helped to lessen
the evils of decomposition and "frilling."

The most noticeable death in the photographic world of this year was
that of Henry Fox Talbot. He was born on February the 11th, 1800, and
died September 17th, 1877, thus attaining a ripe old age. I am not
disposed to deny his claims to the honour of doing a great deal to
forward the advancement of photography, but what strikes me very much is
the mercenary spirit in which he did it, especially when I consider the
position he occupied, and the pecuniary means at his command. In the
first place, he rushed to the Patent Office with his gallo-nitrate
developer, and then every little improvement or modification that he
afterwards made was carefully protected by patent rights. With a
churlishness of spirit and narrow-mindedness it is almost impossible to
conceive or forgive, he tried his utmost to stop the formation of the
London Photographic Society, and it was only after pressing
solicitations from Sir Charles Eastlake, President of the Royal Academy,
and first President of the London Photographic Society, that he
withdrew his objections. The late Peter le Neve Foster, Secretary of the
Society of Arts, told me this years after, and when it was proposed to
make Fox Talbot an honorary member of the Photographic Society, Mr.
Foster was opposed to the proposition. Then the action that he brought
against Sylvester Laroche was unjustifiable, for there really was no
resemblance between the collodion and calotype means of making a
negative, except in the common use of the camera, and the means of
making prints was the same as that employed by Thomas Wedgwood, while
the fixing process with hyposulphite of soda was first resorted to by
the Rev. J. B. Reade, on the published information of Sir John Herschel.

On March 29th, 1878, Mr. Charles Bennett published his method of
increasing the sensitiveness of gelatino-bromide plates. It may be
briefly described as a prolonged cooking of the gelatine emulsion at a
temperature of 90°, and, according to Mr. Bennett's experience, the
longer it was cooked the more sensitive it became, with a corresponding
reduction of density when the prepared plates were exposed and
developed.

April 20th of this year Mr. J. A. Spencer died, after a lingering
illness, of cancer in the throat. Mr. Spencer was, at one period in the
history of photography, the largest manufacturer of albumenized paper in
this country, and carried on his business at Shepherd's Bush. In 1866 he
told me that he broke about 2,000 eggs daily, merely to obtain the
whites or albumen. The yolks being of no use to him, he sold them, when
he could, to glove makers, leather dressers, and confectioners, but they
could not consume all he offered for sale, and he buried the rest in his
garden until his neighbours complained of the nuisance, so that it
became ultimately a very difficult thing for him to dispose of his waste
yolks in any manner. After the introduction of Swan's improved carbon
process, he turned his attention to the manufacture of carbon tissue,
and in a short time he became one of the partners in the Autotype
Company, and the name of the firm at that period was Spencer, Sawyer,
and Bird; but he ceased to be a partner some time before his death.

At the South London Technical Meeting, held in the great hall of the
Society of Arts, I exhibited my non-actinic developing tray, and
developed a gelatine dry plate in the full blaze of gas-light. A short
extract from a leader in the _Photographic News_ of November 14th, 1879,
will be sufficient to satisfy all who are interested in the matter.
"Amongst the many ingenious appliances exhibited at the recent South
London meeting, none excited greater interest than the developing tray
of Mr. Werge, in which he developed in the full gas-light of the room a
gelatine plate which had been exposed in the morning, and exhibited to
the meeting the result in a clean transparency, without fog, or any
trace of the abnormal action of light.... We can here simply record the
fact, interesting to many, that the demonstration before the South
London meeting was a perfect success."

1880 had a rather melancholy beginning, for on January the 15th, Mr.
George Wharton Simpson died suddenly, which was a great shock to every
one that knew him. I had seen him only a few days before in his usual
good health, and he looked far more like outliving me than I him;
besides, he was a year my junior. The extract above quoted was the last
time he honoured me by mentioning my name in his writings, though he had
done so many times before, both pleasantly and in defending me against
some ill-natured and unwarrantable attacks in the journal which he so
ably conducted for twenty years.

Mungo Ponton died August 3rd, 1880. Though his discovery did little or
nothing towards the development of photography proper, it is impossible
to allow him to pass out of this world without honourable mention, for
his discovery led to the creation and development of numerous and
important photo-mechanical industries, which give employment to numbers
of men and women. When Mungo Ponton announced his discovery in the
_Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal_ in 1839, he probably never dreamt
that it would be of any commercial value, or he might have secured
rights and royalties on all the patent processes that grew out of it;
for Poitevin's patent, 1855, Beauregard's, 1857, Pouncy's, 1858 and
1863, J. W. Swan's, 1864, Woodbury's, 1866, all the Autotype and
Lambertype and kindred patents, as well as all the forms of Collotype
printing, are based on Ponton's discovery. But so it is: the originator
of anything seldom seeks any advantage beyond the honour attached to the
making of a great invention or discovery. It is generally the petty
improvers that rush to the Patent Office to secure rights and
emoluments, regardless of the claims of the founders of their patented
processes.

On March 2nd, 1880, I delivered a lecture on "The Origin, Progress, and
Practice of Photography" before the Lewisham and Blackheath Scientific
Association, in which I reviewed the development of photography from its
earliest inception up to date, exhibited examples, and gave
demonstrations before a very attentive and apparently gratified
audience.

On the 27th May, 1880, Professor Alfred Swaine Taylor died at his
residence, 15, St. James's Terrace, Regent's Park, in his seventy-fourth
year. He was born on the 11th December, 1806, at Northfleet in Kent, and
in 1823 he entered as a student the united hospitals of Guy's and St.
Thomas's, and became the pupil of Sir Astley Cooper and Mr. Joseph Henry
Green. His success as a student and eminence as a professor, lecturer,
and author are too well-known to require any comment from me on those
subjects, but it is not so generally known how much photography was
indebted to him at the earliest period of its birth. In 1838 Dr. Taylor
published his celebrated work, "The Elements of Medical Jurisprudence,"
and in 1840 he published a pamphlet "On the Art of Photogenic Drawing,"
in which he advocated the superiority of ammonia nitrate of silver over
chloride of silver as a sensitiser, and hyposulphite of lime over
hyposulphite of soda as a fixer, and the latter he advocated up to the
year of his death, as the following letter will show:--

"_St. James's Terrace, February 10th, 1880._

"Mr. Werge.

"Dear Sir,--I have great pleasure in sending you for the purpose of your
lecture some of my now ancient photographs. They show the early
struggles which we had to make. The mounted drawings were all made with
the _ammonia nitrate_ of silver; I send samples of the paper used. In
general the paper selected contained chloride enough to form ammonia
chloride. I send samples of unused paper, procured in 1839--some salted
afterwards.

"All these drawings (which are dated) have been preserved by the
hyposulphite of _lime_ (not soda). The hypo of lime does not form a
definite compound with silver, like soda; hence it is easily washed
away, and this is why the drawings are tolerably preserved after forty
years. All are on plain paper. Ammonia nitrate does not answer well on
albumenized paper. The art of toning by gold was not known in those
ancient days, but the faded drawings on _plain paper_, as you will see,
admit of restoration, in dark purple, by placing them in a very dilute
solution of chloride of gold, and putting them in the dark for
twenty-four hours. The gold replaces the reduced silver and sulphide of
silver. I send you the only copy I have of my photogenic drawing. Five
hundred were printed, and all were sold or given away. Please take care
of it. The loose photographs in red tape are scenes in Egypt and Greece,
taken about 1850 from wax-paper negatives (camera views) made by Mr. D.
Colnaghi, now English Consul at Florence. If you can call here I shall
be glad to say more to you on the matter.--Yours truly,

"Alfred S. Taylor."

The above was the last of many letters on photographic matters that I
had received from Dr. Taylor, and the last time I had the pleasure of
seeing him was when I returned the photographs and pamphlet alluded to
therein, only a short time before his death. Dr. Taylor never lost his
interest in photography, and was always both willing and pleased to
enter into conversation on the subject. He had worked at photography
through all its changes, despite his many professional engagements, from
its dawn in 1839, right up to the introduction of gelatino-bromide
dry plates, and in 1879 he came and sat to me for his portrait on one
of what he called "these wonderful dry plates," and watched the process
of development with as much interest as any enthusiastic tyro would have
done, and I am proud to say that I had the pleasure of taking the
portrait and exhibiting the process of development of the latest aspect
of photography to one of its most enthusiastic and talented pioneers.

Dr. Taylor was a man of remarkable energy and versatility. He was a
prolific writer and an admirable artist. On his walls were numerous
beautiful drawings, and his windows were filled with charmingly illusive
transparencies, all the work of his own hands; and once, when expressing
my wonder that he could find time to do so many things, he remarked that
"a man could always find time to do anything he wished if his heart was
with his work." Doubtless it is so, and his life and what he did in it
were proofs of the truth and wisdom of his observation.

Hydroquinone as a developer was introduced this year by Eder and Toth,
but it did not make much progress at first. It is more in use now, but I
do not consider it equal to oxalate of iron.

A considerable fillip was, this year, given to printing on
gelatino-bromide paper by the issue of "The Argentic Gelatino-Bromide
Worker's Guide," published by W. T. Morgan and Co. The work was written
by John Burgess, who made and sold a bromide emulsion some years
before, and it contained some excellent working instructions. In the
book is a modification and simplification of J. M. Burgess's Eburneum
Process, though that process was the invention of Mr. J. Burgess, of
Norwich; but a recent application of the gelatino-bromide emulsion to
celluloid slabs by Mr. Fitch has made the Ivorytype process as simple
and certain as the exposure and development of gelatino-bromide paper.

On January 30th, 1881, died Mr. J. R. Johnson, of pantascopic celebrity.
Mr. Johnson was the inventor of many useful things, both photographic
and otherwise. He was the chief promoter of the Autotype Company, in
which the late Mr. Winsor was so deeply interested; and his double
transfer process, published in 1869, contributed greatly to the
successful development and practice of the Carbon process. The invention
of the Pantascopic Camera, and what he did to forward the formation of
the Autotype Company and simplify carbon printing, may be considered the
sum total of his claim to photographic recognition.

The chief photographic novelty of 1881 was Mr. Woodbury's Stannotype
process, a modification and simplification of what is best known as the
Woodburytype. Instead of forcing the gelatine relief into a block of
type-metal by immense pressure to make the matrix, he "faced" a reversed
relief with tin-foil, thus obtaining a printing matrix in less time and
at less expense. I have seen some very beautiful examples of this
process, but somehow or other it is not much employed.

The man who unquestionably made the first photographic portrait died on
the 4th of January, 1882, and I think it is impossible for me to notice
that event without giving a brief description of the circumstance, even
though I incur the risk of telling to some of my readers a tale twice
told. When Daguerre's success was first announced in the Academy of
Science in 1839, M. Arago stated that Daguerre had not yet succeeded in
taking portraits, but that he hoped to do so soon. The details of the
process were not published until July, and in the autumn of that year
Dr. Draper succeeded in obtaining a portrait of his assistant, and that
was the first likeness of a human being ever known to have been secured
by photography. It would be interesting to know if that Daguerreotype is
in existence now. Dr. Draper was Professor of Chemistry in the
University of New York, and as soon as the news of the discovery reached
New York he fitted an ordinary spectacle lens into a cigar case, and
commenced his experiments first by taking views out of a window, and
afterwards by taking portraits. To shorten the time of exposure for the
latter, he whitened the faces of his sitters. In April, 1840, Dr. Draper
and Professor Morse opened a portrait gallery on the top of the
University Buildings, New York, and did a splendid business among the
very best people of the City at the minimum price of five dollars a
portrait, and they would be very small even at that price.

One more of the early workers in photography died this year on the 4th
of March. Louis Alphonse Poitevin was not a father of photography in a
creative sense, but, like Walter Woodbury, an appropriater of
photography in furthering the development of photo-mechanical printing.
His first effort in that direction was to obtain copper plates, or
moulds, from Daguerreotype pictures by the aid of electrical deposits,
and he discovered a method of photo-chemical engraving, for which he was
awarded a silver medal by the Société d'Encouragement des Arts, but the
process was of no practical value. His chief and most valuable
experiments were with gelatine and bichromates, and his labours in that
direction were rewarded by the receipt of a considerable portion of the
Duc de Luynes's prize for permanent photographic printing processes,
which consisted of photo-lithography and Collotype printing. Born in
1819, he was sixty-three years old when he died.

A useful addition to the pyrogallic acid developer was this year given
by Mr. Herbert B. Berkeley. Hitherto, nearly all pyro-developed gelatine
plates were stained a deep yellow colour by the action of ammonia, but
the use of sulphite of soda, as suggested by Mr. Berkeley, considerably
lessened this evil.

In 1883, Captain Abney rendered a signal service to the members of the
Photographic Society, and photographers in general, by publishing in the
Journal of the Society a translation of Captain Pizzighelli and Baron A.
Hubl's booklet on platinotype. After giving a _résumé_ of the early
experiments with platinum by Herschel, Hunt, and others, the theory and
practice of platinotype printing are clearly explained, and it was
undoubtedly due to the publication of this translation that platinotype
printing was very much popularised. In proof of the accuracy of this
opinion, every following photographic exhibition showed an increasing
number of exhibits in platinotype.

No great novelty was brought into the world of photography in 1884, but
there were signs of a steady advance, and an increasing number of
workers with dry plates. I should not, however, neglect allusion to the
publication of Dr. H. W. Vogel's experiments with eosine, cyanocine, and
other kindred bodies by which he increased the sensitiveness of both wet
collodion and gelatine plates to the action of the yellow rays
considerably (_vide_ Journal of Society, May 30th). The Berlin Society
for the Advancement of Photography acquired and published these
experiments for the general good, and yet Tailfer and Clayton obtained
patent right monopolies for making eosine gelatine plates in France,
Austria, and England. This proceeding seems very much akin to the sharp
practice displayed by Mr. Beard in securing a patent right monopoly in
the Daguerreotype process which was _given to the world_ by the French
Government in 1839. Germany very properly refused to grant a patent
under these circumstances.

On April 14th, 1885, Mr. Walter Bird read a paper at the meeting of the
Photographic Society of Great Britain, "On the Photographic
Reproductions of Pictures in the National Gallery," by A. Braun et Cie.
I was present, and it appeared to me that the "effects" in some of the
pictures exhibited were not produced by any chemical mode of translation
of colour, but by some method of after-treatment of the negative which
was more likely to be by skilled labour than by any chemical process.
This belief induced me to read a paper at the next meeting--May
12th--"On the After-Treatment of Negatives," in which I showed what
could be done both by chemical means and art-labour to assist
photography in translating the monographic effects of colour more in
accordance with the scale of luminosity adopted and adhered to by the
most eminent engravers both in line and mezzotint.

At the next meeting--June 9th--Mr. J. R. Sawyer reopened the discussion
on the above subject by reading a paper and exhibiting examples of his
own experiments, and Mr. Sawyer admitted that he was "bound to confess
that while every effort should be made to discover chemical combinations
which will give the utmost value that can be practicably obtained in the
reproduction (?) of colours, yet that, in all probability, art--and art
not inferior to that of a competent engraver--will be necessary to
assist photography in rendering the very subtle combinations of colour
that present themselves in a fine painting;" and Colonel H. Stuart
Wortley proved that the copy of Turner's "Old Téméraire" was not only
"retouched," but wrongly translated, as the various shades of yellow in
the original picture were represented in the copy as if they had been
all of the same tint. Mr. Sawyer made use of the phrase "reproduction of
colours," but that was an error. He should have said--and undoubtedly
meant--translation of colours, for photography is, unfortunately,
incapable of reproducing colours. Among Mr. Sawyer's examples was a
curious and contradictory evidence that isochromatic plates translated
yellow tints better than ordinary bromide plates, yet wrongly, for
three different shades of yellow were translated as if they had been all
one tint. I had noticed this myself when copying paintings and coloured
prints, but in photographing the natural colours of fruits and flowers
the result was different, and I attributed the mal-translation of
pigment yellows to the amount of white with which they had been mixed by
the painter. Be that as it may, I always obtained the best translation
from natural colours, and a group of flowers which contained a beautiful
sulphur coloured dahlia illustrates and confirms this statement in a
most remarkable and satisfactory manner. It is, therefore, the more to
be regretted that there is any restriction placed upon the individual
experiment and development of this interesting aspect of photography.

This was the year of The International Inventions Exhibition, and the
photographic feature of which was the historical collection exhibited by
some of the members of the Photographic Society of Great Britain, and I
think that collection was sufficiently interesting to justify my giving,
in these pages, the entire list as published in the _Photographic
Journal_:--

"We subjoin a full and complete statement of the whole of the exhibits,
with the names of the contributors:--

"Capt. Abney, R.E., F.R.S.--Papyrotype process, executed at the School
of Military Engineering, Chatham.

"W. Andrews--Wet collodion negatives, intensified by the Schlippes salt
method.

"T. and R. Annan--Calotype process (negative and print), taken by D. O.
Hill.

"F. Beasley, jun.--Collodio-albumen negatives.

"W. Bedford--One of Archer's first cameras for collodion process,
stereoscopic arrangement by Archer to fit a larger camera.

"Valentine Blanchard--Instantaneous views, wet collodion, 1856-65.
Illustrations of a method of enlargement, as proposed by V. Blanchard,
1873. Modification of the Brewster stereoscope by Oliver Wendell
Holmes.

"Bullock (Bros.)--Photo-lithography, 1866 (Bullock's patent).

"T. Bolas, F.C.S.--Detective camera, 1876. Negative photograph on
bitumen, made insoluble by the action of light. Carbon negatives
stripped by Wenderoth's process.

"E. Clifton--Portrait of Daguerre. Crystallotype by J. R. Whipple, 1854.
Specimens from "Pretsch" photo-galvano-graphic plates, 1856.

"T. S. Davis, F.C.S.--A combined preparation and wash bottle for
gelatine emulsion. Adjustable gauge for cutting photographic glasses.

"De la Rue and Co.--Surface printing from blocks executed by Paul
Pretsch, 1860.

"W. England--Old Daguerreotype developing box. Old ditto sensitising
box. Old camera, 1860, with rapid inside shutter. Instantaneous views in
Paris, wet collodion, 1856-65.

"Edinburgh Photographic Society--Archer's water lens.

"James Glaisher, F.R.S.--Nature printing, taken over thirty years ago.

"G. Fowler Jones--Prints from negatives by Le Gray's ceroline process.

"R. Kennett--Skaife's pistolgraph. Globe lens.

"Dr. Maddox--Some of the earliest gelatino-bromide negatives, by the
originator of the process, 1871.

"Mudd and Son--Collodio-albumen negatives.

"R. C. Murray--Early Talbotype photographs, 1844-45.

"H. Neville--Camera with Sutton's patent panoramic lens.

"Mrs. H. Baden Pritchard--Impressions from pewter plates of heliographic
drawing, by Nicéphore Niépce, 1827. Original letter, by Nicéphore
Niépce, sent to the Royal Society, 1827. View of Kew, taken by Nicéphore
Niépce, 1827.

"H. P. Robinson--Heliographic picture, by Nicéphore Niépce, 1826.
Photo-etched plate (from a print), by Niépce in 1827. Heliograph (from a
print), by Niépce, 1827. One of the earliest printing-frames, made for
Fox Talbot's photogenic drawing, 1839. The first nitrate of silver bath
used by Scott Archer in his discovery of the collodion process, 1850.

"Ross and Co.--One of Archer's earliest fluid lenses. The first
photographic compound portrait lens, made by Andrew Ross, 1841.
Photographic camera, believed to be the first made in England.

"Sands and Hunter--Old lens, with adjustable diaphragm, by Archer, 1851.
Old stereoscopic camera, with mechanical arrangement for transferring
plates to and from the dark slide.

"T. L. Scowen--Parallel bar stereoscopic camera. Latimer Clarke.

"John Spiller, F.C.S., F.I.C.--The first preserved plates (three to
twenty-one days), 1854. Illustrations of the French Pigeon Post.

"J. W. Swan, F.C.S.--Electro intaglios from carbon reliefs
(Thorwalsden's "Night and Morning"). Photo-mezzotints were taken from
these in gelatinous inks, 1860, by J. W. Swan, by the process now known
as Woodburytype. Plaster cast from a carbon print of Kenilworth, showing
the relief, taken in 1864, by J. W. Swan. Carbon prints twenty years old
(photographed and printed in various colours by J. W. Swan). Old print
(in red) by T. and R. Annan, by Swan's process. Carbon print, twenty
years old (printed in 1864) by double transfer.

"B. B. Turner--Talbotype. Negatives and prints from same. Single lens
made by Andrew Ross, 1851.

"J. Werge--Examples of printing with various metals on plain paper,
1839-42. The Fathers of Photography. Examples and dates of the
introduction of early photographs. Daguerreotype, 1839. Collodion
positive, 1851. Ambrotype, 1853. Ferrotype, 1855.

"W. Willis, Jun.--Specimen of aniline process. Historical illustrations
of the development of the platinotype process.

"W. B. Woodbury--Photo-relief printing process. Woodbury mould and
Woodburytype print from same, 1866. Stannotype printing-press, with
mould. Machine for measuring reliefs. Woodbury lantern slides. Early
Daguerreotype on copper. Positive photograph on glass. Woodbury balloon
camera. Microscopical objects in plaster from gelatine reliefs. Woodbury
collographic process. Woodbury photo-chromograph system, coloured from
the back, 1869. Woodbury actinometer. Despatch-box camera. Watermark or
photo-filigrain process. Transparency on gelatine. The first specimen of
Woodbury printing exhibited, including the first mould printed from, and
also proofs backed with luminous paint.

"Colonel H. Stuart Wortley--Early photo-zincographs, 1861-2.
Experimental prints with uranium collodion, 1867 (modification of
Wothly's process). Set of apparatus complete for making gelatine
emulsion, and preparing gelatine plates, 1877-8. No. 1. Apparatus for
cutting gelatine plates either by hand-turning or treadle. No. 2. Stove
for keeping emulsion warm for any time at a fixed temperature in pure
air, and for the final drying of the plates. No. 3. Apparatus for
squeezing emulsion out into water. No. 4. Apparatus for mixing emulsion.
Instantaneous shutter, with horizontal motion by finger or pneumatic
tube; adjustable wings for cutting off sky, and varying length of
exposure."

It is a very remarkable circumstance that none of the contributors to
that historical collection could include among their interesting
exhibits portraits of either Nicéphore Niépce or Frederick Scott Archer.
Among my "Fathers of Photography" were portraits of Daguerre, Rev. J. B.
Reade, Fox Talbot, Dr. Alfred Swaine Taylor, and Sir John Herschel. It
was suggested that those historical exhibits should be left at the close
of the exhibition to form a nucleus to a permanent photographic
exhibition in Kensington Museum. I readily contributed my exhibits
towards such a laudable object. They were accepted, and these exhibits
may be seen at any time in the West Gallery of the Science Department
of the South Kensington Museum.

At the exhibition of the Photographic Society of Great Britain this
year, I exhibited "Wollaston's Diaphragmatic Shutter," in my opinion the
best snap shutter that ever was invented, but it had two very serious
drawbacks, for it was both _heavy_ and _expensive_.

In 1886 more than usual interest was exhibited by photographers in what
was misnamed as the isochromatic, or orthochromatic process, and this
interest was probably created by the papers read and discussions that
followed at the meetings of the Photographic Society in the previous
year. Messrs. Dixon and Gray--the latter a young man in the employ of
Messrs. Dixon and Son--commenced a series of experiments with certain
dyes with the hope of obtaining a truer translation of colour when
copying oil paintings or water-colour drawings, a class of work in which
they were largely interested, and had obtained a considerable reputation
for such reproductions as photography was then capable of rendering, and
one of the results of these experiments was exhibited, and obtained a
medal, at the exhibition of the Photographic Society in October. Messrs.
Dixon and Sons' exhibit was a very surprising one, and created quite a
sensation, as nothing equal to it had ever been shown before. The
subject was a drawing of a yellow flower and green leaves against a blue
ground--the yellow the most luminous, the green next, and the blue the
darkest. In ordinary wet or dry plate photography these effects would
have been reversed, but by Dixon and Gray's process the relative
luminosities of these three colours were almost perfectly translated.
Messrs. Dixon and Gray did not publish their process, but prepared
existing gelatine dry plates by their method, and sold them at an
enhanced price. They were not, however, permitted to supply anyone long,
for B. J. Edwards, who had obtained a monopoly of Tailfer and Clayton's
patent rights in England, served them with an injunction, or threatened
them with legal proceedings, so they discontinued preparing their
orthochromatic plates for sale. By some special arrangement they were
allowed to prepare plates for their own use, provided they used Edwards'
XL dry plates.

It so happened, however, that this proviso was not a hardship, for Mr.
Dixon told me himself that he had found Edwards' plates the most
suitable for their process. The hardship lay in not being able to apply
their own discovery or preparation to any dry plates for sale for the
public use and benefit. This prohibition was the more to be regretted
because no other commercial isochromatic or orthochromatic plates had or
have appeared to possess the same qualities of translation. The
suppression of the Dixon and Gray preparation of plates is the more
surprising when I find eosine is mentioned in the Clayton and Tailfer
claim, whereas Mr. Dixon assured me that eosine was not employed by
them. Mr. Edwards only acquired his monopoly and right to interfere with
the commercial application of an independent discovery on Nov. 18th,
1886, and there is little to be gained in England by the publication of
the experiments of such men as Vogel, Eder, Ives, and Abney, if one man
can prevent all others making use of them.

This year death removed from our midst one, and perhaps the greatest, of
the martyrs of photography--Sylvester Laroche. This was the man that
fought the battle for freedom from the shackles of monopoly. He won the
fight, but lost his money, and the photographers of the day failed to
make him a suitable recompense. There was one honourable exception, and
Mr. Sylvester told me himself that Mr. J. E. Mayall gave him £100
towards his legal expenses. Laroche's surname was Sylvester, but as
there was a whole family of that name photographers, he added Laroche to
distinguish himself from his brothers. Sylvester Laroche was an artist,
and worked very cleverly in pastel, but somehow or other he never
appeared to prosper.

Nothing particular marked the photographic record of 1887, but death was
busy in removing men who had made their mark both in the early and later
days of photography. First, on March 19th, Robert Hunt, the most copious
writer on photography in its earlier period. As early as 1844 he
published the first edition of his "Researches on Light," in which he
was considerably assisted by Sir John Herschel, and it is astonishing to
find what a mine of photographic information that early work contains.

The next was Colonel Russell, better known, photographically, as Major
Russell. He was born in 1820, and died on May 16th, 1887. He was best
known for his tannin process and alkaline developer, with a bromide
solution as a restrainer. For a long time his tannin process was very
popular among collodion dry plate workers, and very beautiful pictures
were taken on Russell's Tannin Plates, but it is many years since they
were ruthlessly brushed aside, like all other collodion dry plates, by
the now universally employed gelatino-bromide plates or films.

A revival of interest in pinhole photography was awakened this year, and
several modes of constructing a pinhole camera were published; but I
remember seeing a wonderful picture by a _keyhole_ camera long before I
became a photographer. I had called to see an old lady who lived
opposite a mill and farm. It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and, when I
was leaving, I was astonished to see a beautiful picture of the mill and
farm on the wall of the hall. "Ah!" said the old lady; "that's my
camera-obscura. When the sun shines on the mill at this time of day, I
am sure to have a picture of the mill brought through the keyhole." It
was something like this that suggested the camera-obscura to Roger Bacon
and Baptista Porta. So it is not necessary to have such a small hole to
obtain a picture, but it is necessary to have the smallest hole possible
to obtain the _sharpest_ picture.

Pizzighelli's visible platinotype printing paper was introduced this
year, and I welcomed it as a boon, for the double reasons of its
simplicity and permanency. I had been longing for years for such a
process, for I, like Roger Fenton, had come to the conclusion that there
was no future for photography, in consequence of the instability of
silver prints. They would be much more durable than they are if they
were only washed in several changes of warm water, but few people will
be at the trouble to do that, some because they don't know the efficacy
of warm water, and others because it lowers the tone. An eminent
photographer once asked me how to render silver prints permanent; but
when I told him there was nothing equal to warm water washing, he
exclaimed, "Oh! but that spoils the tone." When a photographer
sacrifices durability to tone, he is scarcely acting honestly towards
his customers. Admitted that there is nothing so beautiful in
photography as a good silver print when it has its first bloom on it,
neither is there anything so grievously disappointing as a silver print
in its last stage of decay. It is quite time that the _durability_ of a
photograph should be the first consideration of every photographer, as
well as the amateur. Years ago I proposed and published a plan of
raising a fund to induce chemists and scientists to consider the
subject, but not a single photographer responded by subscribing his
guinea.

A very simple and interesting means of making photographs at night was
introduced this year by Dr. Piffard, an amateur photographer of New
York, and the extreme simplicity and efficacy of his method was
surprising. For good portraiture it is not equal to the electric light,
but for family groups, at home occupations or amusements, it is
superior, and I have taken such groups with Piffard's magnesium
flash-light, which no other means of lighting would have enabled me to
produce. I have taken groups of people playing at cards, billiards, and
other games in their own homes with the simplest of apparatus, the
ordinary lens and camera, plus an old tea tray--but to obtain the best
results, the quickest lens and the quickest dry plates should be
employed, and I have always found the best position for the light to be
on the top of the camera.

1888 is chiefly remarkable for the attempted revival of the stereoscope,
and Mr. W. F. Donkin read an interesting and instructive paper on the
subject, in which he endeavoured to account for its disappearance,
explain its principles, and give an historical account of its early
construction, and modern or subsequent improvements. As to its immense
popularity thirty to thirty-five years ago, that was due to its novelty,
and the marvellous effect of solidity the pictures assumed when viewed
in the stereoscope; but it soon ceased to be popular when the views
became stale, and people grew tired of looking at them; to keep up the
interest they had to be continually buying fresh ones, and of this they
soon got tired also; and when hosts saw that their guests were bored
with sights so often seen, they put them out of sight altogether, and I
fear that nothing will, for the same reasons, bring about a revival of
the revolving or any other form of stereoscopes, for views. It is
becoming much the same now with lantern slides--possessors and their
friends grow weary of the subjects seen so frequently, and hiring
instead of buying slides is becoming the practice of those who own an
optical lantern.

With stereoscopic portraits it was not so, for there was always a
personal and family interest attached to them, and I made a great many
stereoscopic portraits by the Daguerreotype process; but even they were
somewhat ruthlessly and precipitately displaced when the carte-de-visite
mania took possession of the public mind. However, I see no reason why
stereoscopic portraiture should not be revived if good pictures were
produced on ivoryine, and it appears to me that substance is most
suitable for the purpose, as the pictures can be examined either by
reflected or transmitted light. Everyone interested in stereoscopic
photography should "read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest," the late
Mr. Donkin's able and instructive paper on "Stereoscopes and Binocular
Vision," published in the journal of the Photographic Society, January
27th, 1888. This was unhappily the last paper that Mr. Donkin read at
the Photographic Society, for he was unfortunately lost in the Caucasus
the following autumn. W. F. Donkin, M.A., F.C.S., F.I.C., was for
several years Honorary Secretary of the Photographic Society and of the
Alpine Club, and, at the November meeting of the Photographic Society,
the President, James Glaisher, F.R.S., made the following remarks on the
melancholy event:--"There is, I am sure, but one feeling in regard to
the fact that the gentleman who usually sits on my right is not here
to-night. Our Secretary, W. F. Donkin, is, I fear, irretrievably lost in
the Caucasus. The feeling of every member of this Society is one of
respect and esteem towards him. During the time he held the post of
Secretary, his uniform courtesy won him the respect of all. I fear we
shall see him no more." This fear was afterwards confirmed by the search
party, which was headed by Mr. C. T. Dent, President of the Alpine Club.
The late Mr. Donkin was both an expert Alpine climber and photographer,
and many of his photographs of Alpine scenery have been published and
admired.

Every year compels me to record the death of some old and experienced
photographer, or some artist associated with photography from its
earliest introduction. Among the latter was Norman Macbeth, R.S.A., an
eminent portrait painter, who was quick to see and ready to avail
himself of the invaluable services of a new art, or means of improving
art, both in drawing and detail, and make the newly-discovered power a
help in his own labours, and an economiser of the time of his sitters.
The first time I had the pleasure of meeting him was in Glasgow in 1855,
when he brought one of his sitters to me to be Daguerreotyped, and he
preferred a Daguerreotype as long as he could get one, on account of its
extreme delicacy and details in the shadows; but he could not obtain any
more Daguerreotypes after 1857, for at that time I abandoned the
Daguerreotype for ever, and was the last to practise the process in
Glasgow, and probably throughout Great Britain.

From the time that Mr. Macbeth commenced taking photographs himself, he
took a keen interest in photography to the last, and only about a month
before he died, he read an able, instructive, and interesting paper on
the "Construction and Requirements of Portrait Art" before the members
of the London and Provincial Photographic Association; and that paper
should be in the possession, and frequent perusal, of every student of
photographic portraiture. Although an artist in feeling and by
profession, Mr. Macbeth was no niggard in his praises of artistic
photography, and I have frequently heard him expatiate lovingly on the
artistic productions of Rejlander, Robinson, and Hubbard; but, like all
artists, he abominated retouching, and denounced it in the strongest
terms, and regretted its prevalence and practice as destructive of
truth, and "truth in photography," he used to say, "was its greatest
recommendation."

The annals of 1889--the jubilee year of published and commercial
photography--commence with the record of death. On the 21st of January,
Mr. John Robert Sawyer died at Naples in the 61st year of his age. Mr.
Sawyer had been for many years a member of the Autotype Company, and his
foresight and indefatigability were largely instrumental in making that
Company a commercial success. It was anything but a success from the
time that it was commenced by the late Mr. Winsor and Mr. J. R. Johnson,
but from the moment that Mr. J. R. Sawyer became "director of works,"
the company rapidly became a flourishing concern, and possesses now a
world-wide reputation. Mr. Sawyer was one of the early workers in
photography, and for several years conducted a photographic business in
the city of Norwich. It was there that circumstances induced him to give
his attention to some form of permanent photography with the view of
employing it to illustrate a work on the carving and sculpture in
Norwich Cathedral, particularly the fine work in the roof of the nave.
Mr. Sawyer naturally turned his attention, in the first place, to the
autotype process, but it was then in its infancy, and the price
prohibitory. The collotype process then became his hope and refuge, but
that also was in its infancy, and not practised in England. Mr. Sawyer
therefore started for Berlin early in 1869, and there met a certain Herr
Ghémoser, a clever expert in the collotype process, from whom he
obtained valuable information and working instructions. On his return
home, Mr. Sawyer laboured at the collotype process until he overcame
most of its difficulties, and on January 1st, 1871, he entered into
partnership with Mr. Walter Bird, and removed to London with the
intention of making the collotype process a feature in the business.
Messrs. Sawyer and Bird commenced their London experiences in Regent
Street, but on January 1st, 1872, they entered into an agreement with
the Autotype Fine Art Company to work the collotype process as a branch
of their business. Meanwhile, another partner, Mr. John Spencer, had
joined the firm, and at the end of that year Messrs. Spencer, Sawyer,
Bird and Co. purchased the Autotype patents, plant, and stock at Ealing
Dene, and all its interest in the wholesale trade; and, in 1874, they
bought up the whole of the Fine Art business, including the stock in
Rathbone Place, and became the Autotype Company.

The great photographic feature of this year was the Convention held on
August 19th in St. James's Hall, Regent Street, London, in celebration
of the jubilee of practical photography, which was inaugurated by the
delivery of an address by the president, Mr. Andrew Pringle. The address
was a fairly good résumé of all that had been done for the advancement
of photography during the past fifty years.

The exhibition of photographs was somewhat of a failure; little was
shown that possessed any historical interest, and that little was
contributed by myself. There was a considerable display of apparatus of
almost every description, but there was nothing that had not been seen,
or could have been seen, in the shops of the exhibitors.

The papers that were read were of considerable interest, and imparted no
small amount of information, especially Mr. Thos. R. Dallmeyer's on
"False Rendering of Photographic Images by the Misapplication of
Lenses"; Mr. C. H. Bothamley's on "Orthochromatic Photography with
Gelatine Plates"; Mr. Thomas Bolas's on "The Photo-mechanical Printing
Methods as employed in the Jubilee Year of Photography"; but by far the
most popular, wonderful, and instructive, was Professor E. Muybridge's
lecture, with illustrations, on "The Movements of Animals." The sight of
the formidable batteries of lenses was startling enough, but when the
actions of the horse, and other animals, were shown in the
"Zoopraxiscope," the effect on the sense of sight was both astounding
and convincing, and I began to marvel how artists could have lived and
laboured in the wrong direction for so many years, especially when the
lecturer showed that a prehistoric artist had scratched on a bone a rude
but truthful representation of an animal in motion. Both the sight and
intelligence of that prehistoric artist must have been keener than the
senses of animal painters of the nineteenth century.

Taking it all in all, the Jubilee Convention was an immense success, and
brought photographers and amateurs to London from the most distant parts
of the country. Looking round the Hall on the opening night, and
scanning the features of those present, I was coming to the conclusion
that I was the oldest photographer present, when I espied Mr. Baynham
Jones, a man of eighty-three winters, and certainly the oldest amateur
photographer living; so I willingly ceded the honour of seniority to
him, and as soon as he espied me he clambered over the rails to come and
sit at my side and talk over the past, and quite unknown to many
present, aspects and difficulties of photography. Mr. Baynham Jones was
an enthusiastic photographer from the very first, for in 1839, as soon
as Daguerre's process was published, he made himself a camera out of a
cigar-box and the lens of his opera-glass, and, being unable to obtain a
Daguerreotype plate in the country, he cut up a silver salver and worked
away on a solid silver plate until he succeeded in making a
Daguerreotype picture. Mr. Baynham Jones was not the first photographer
in this country, for the Rev. J. B. Reade preceded him by about two
years; but I have not the slightest doubt of his being the first
_Daguerreotypist_ in England, and in that jubilee year of 1889 he was
working with gelatine plates and films, and enthusiastic enough to come
all the way from Cheltenham to London to attend the meetings of the
Jubilee Convention of Photography.

With this brief allusion to the doings and attractions of the Jubilee
Convention, I fear I must bring my reminiscences of photography to a
close; but before doing so I feel it incumbent on me to call attention
to the fact that _two years_ after celebrating the jubilee of
photography we should, paradoxical as it may appear, celebrate its
centenary, for in 1791 the first photographic _picture_ that ever was
made, seen, or heard tell of, was produced by Thomas Wedgwood, and
though he was unable to fix it and enable us to look upon _that_ wonder
_to-day_, the honour of being the first photographer, in its truest
sense, is unquestionably due to an Englishman. Thomas Wedgwood made
photographic pictures on paper, and there they remained until light or
time obliterated them; whereas J. H. Schulze, a German physician, only
obtained impressions of letters on a semi-liquid chloride of silver in a
bottle, and at every shake of the hand the meagre impression was
instantly destroyed. If we consider such men as Niépce, Reade, Daguerre,
and Fox Talbot the fathers of photography, we cannot but look upon
Thomas Wedgwood as the Grand Father, and the centenary of his first
achievement should be celebrated with becoming honour as the English
centenary of photography.




CHRONOLOGICAL RECORD

OF

INVENTIONS, DISCOVERIES, PUBLICATIONS, AND APPLIANCES, FORMING
FACTORS IN THE INCEPTION, DISCOVERY, AND DEVELOPMENT OF PHOTOGRAPHY.


1432 B.C. Iron said to have been first discovered.

424 B.C. Lenses made and used by the Greeks. And a lens has been found
in the ruins of Nineveh.

79 A.D. Glass known and used by the Romans.

697. Glass brought to England.

1100. Alcohol first obtained by the alchemist, Abucasis.

1287. Nitric acid first obtained by Raymond Lully. Present properties
made known by Dr. Priestley, 1785.

1297. Camera-obscura constructed by Roger Bacon.

1400. Chloride of gold solution known to Basil Valentine.

1500. Camera-obscura improved by Baptista Porta.

1555. Chloride of silver blackening by the action of light. Doubtless it
was the knowledge of this that induced Thomas Wedgwood and Sir Humphry
Davy to make their experiments.

1590. Paper first made in England, at Dartford, Kent, by Sir John
Speilman. It is said that the Chinese made paper 170 years B.C.

1646. Magic lantern invented by Athanasius Kircher.

1666. Sir Isaac Newton divided a sunbeam into its seven component parts,
and re-constructed the camera-obscura.

1670. Salt mines of Staffordshire discovered.

1727. J. H. Schulze, a German physician, observed that light blackened
chalk impregnated with nitrate of silver solution and gold chloride.

1737. Solution of nitrate of silver applied to paper, by Hellot.

1739. Chloride of mercury made by K. Neumann.

1741. Platinum first known in Europe: M. H. St. Claire Deville's new
method of obtaining it from the ore, 1859.

1750. J. Dolland, London, first made double achromatic compound lenses.

1757. Chloride of silver made by J. B. Beccarius.

1774. Dr. Priestly discovered ammonia to be composed of nitrogen and
hydrogen; but ammonia is as old as the first decomposition of organic
matter.

1777. Charles William Scheele observed that the violet end of the
spectrum blackened chloride of silver more rapidly than the red end.
Chlorine discovered.

1779. Oxalate of silver made by Bergmann.

1789. Uranium obtained from pitch-blende by Klaproth.

1791. Thomas Wedgwood commenced experiments with a solution of nitrate
of silver spread upon paper and white leather, and obtained impressions
of semi-transparent objects and cast shadows. Sir Humphry Davy joined
him later.

1797. Nitrate of silver on silk by Fulhame.

1799. Hyposulphite of soda discovered by M. Chaussier.

1800. John William Ritter, of Samitz, in Silesia, observed that chloride
of silver blackened beyond the violet end of the spectrum, thus
discovering the action of the ultra violet ray.

1801. Potassium discovered by Sir Humphry Davy.

1802. Examples of Heliotypes, by Wedgwood and Davy, exhibited at the
Royal Institution, and process published.

1803. Palladium discovered in platinum by Dr. Wollaston.

1808. Strontium obtained from carbonate of strontia by Sir Humphry Davy.

1812. Iodine discovered by M. D. Curtois, of Paris.

-- Nitrate of silver and albumen employed by D. Fischer.

1813. Ditto investigated by M. Clement.

1814. Joseph Nicéphore de Niépce commenced experiments with the hope of
securing the pictures as seen in the camera-obscura.

-- Iodide of silver made by Sir H. Davy.

1819. Sir John Herschel published the fact that hyposulphite of soda
dissolved chloride and other salts of silver.

1824. Niépce obtained pictures in the camera-obscura upon metal plates
coated with asphaltum, or bitumen of Judea.

-- L. G. M. Daguerre commenced his researches.

-- Permanganate of potash. Fromenkerz.

1826. Bromine discovered in sea-water by M. Balard.

-- Bromine of silver made.

1827. Niépce exhibited his pictures in England, and left one or more,
now in the British Museum.

1829. Niépce and Daguerre entered into an alliance to pursue their
researches mutually.

1832. Evidence of Daguerre employing iodine.

1837. Rev. J. B. Reade, of Clapham, London, obtained a photograph in the
solar microscope, and employed tannin as an accelerator and hyposulphite
of soda as a fixer for the first time in photography.

1838. Reflecting stereoscope exhibited by Charles Wheatstone.

-- Mungo Ponton observed that light altered and hardened bichromate of
potash, and produced yellow photographs with that material. This
discovery led to the invention of the Autotype, Woodburytype, Collotype,
and other methods of photo-mechanical printing.

1839. Daguerre's success communicated to the Academy of Science, Paris,
by M. Arago, January 7th.

-- Electrotype process announced.

-- Professor Faraday described Fox Talbot's new method of photogenic
drawing to the members of the Royal Institution, January 25th.

-- Fox Talbot read a paper, giving a full description of his process,
before the Royal Society, January 31st.

-- Sir John Herschel introduced hyposulphite of soda as a fixing agent,
February 14th.

-- Dr. Alfred Swaine Taylor employed ammonia nitrate of silver in
preference to chloride of silver for making photogenic drawings, and
employed hyposulphite of lime in preference to hyposulphite of soda for
fixing.

-- Daguerre's process published in August, and patent, for England,
granted to Mr. Beard, London, August 14th.

-- "History and Practice of Photogenic Drawing"; L. S. M. Daguerre.
Published September.

-- First photographic portrait taken on a Daguerreotype plate by
Professor. J. W. Draper, New York, U.S., in the autumn of this year.

1840. "On the Art of Photogenic Drawing," by Alfred S. Taylor, lecturer
on chemistry, &c., at Guy's Hospital. Published by Jeffrey, George Yard,
Lombard Street, London.

-- "The Handbook of Heliography, or the Art of Writing or Drawing by the
Effect of Sunlight, with the Art of Dioramic Painting, as practised by
M. Daguerre." Anon.

-- Wolcott's reflecting camera brought from America to England and
secured by Mr. Beard, patentee of the Daguerreotype process.

-- The moon photographed for the first time by Dr. J. W. Draper, of New
York, on a Daguerreotype plate.

-- John Frederick Goddard, of London, inventor of the polariscope and
lecturer on chemistry, employed chlorine added to iodine, and
afterwards bromine, as accelerators in the Daguerreotype process.

1840. Antoine F. J. Claudet, F.R.S., of London, employed chlorine for
the same purpose.

-- M. Fizeau, of Paris, deposited a film of gold over the Daguerreotype
picture after the removal of the iodine, which imparted increased
brilliancy and permanency.

-- Chloride of platinum employed by Herschel.

-- Fox Talbot's developer published September 20th.

1841. Calotype process patented by Fox Talbot, September 20th.

-- First photographic compound portrait lens made by Andrew Ross,
London.

-- Towson, of Liverpool, noted that chemical and visual foci did not
coincide. Defect corrected by J. Petzval, of Vienna, for Voightlander.

-- "A Popular Treatise on the Art of Photography, including
Daguerreotype and all the New Methods of Producing Pictures by the
Chemical Agency of Light," by Robert Hunt, published by R. Griffin,
Glasgow.

-- Daguerre announced an instantaneous process, but it was not
successful.

1842. Sir John Herschel exhibited blue, red, and purple photographs at
the Royal Institution.

-- "Photography Familiarly Explained," by W. R. Baxter, London.

1843. "Photogenic Manipulation," by G. T. Fisher Knight, Foster Lane.

-- Treatise on Photography by N. P. Lerebours, translated by J. Egerton.

1844. Fox Talbot issued "The Pencil of Nature," a book of silver prints
from calotype negatives.

-- C. Cundell, of London, employed and published the use of bromide of
potassium in the calotype process.

1844. "Researches on Light and its Chemical Relations," by Robert Hunt.
First edition; second ditto, 1854.

-- Robert Hunt recommended proto-sulphate of iron as a developer for
Talbot's calotype negatives; also oxalate of iron and acetate of lead
for other purposes.

-- A. F. J. Claudet patented a red light for "dark room," but at that
date a red light was not necessary, so the old photographers continued
the use of yellow lights.

1845. "Photogenic Manipulations:" Part 1, Calotype, &c.; Part 2,
Daguerreotype. By George Thomas Fisher, jun. Published by George Knight
and Sons, London.

-- "Manual of Photography," including Daguerreotype, Calotype, &c., by
Jabez Hogg. First edition. Second ditto, including Archer's collodion
process, bichloride of mercury bleaching and intensifying, and
gutta-percha transfer process, 1856.

1845. "Practical Hints on the Daguerreotype; Willats's Scientific
Manuals."

-- "Plain Directions for Obtaining Photographic Pictures by the Calotype
and other processes, on paper; Willats's Scientific Manuals." Published
by Willats, 98, Cheapside; and Sherwood, Gilbert, and Piper, Paternoster
Row.

1846. Gun-cotton made known by Professor Schönbein, of Basel.

1847. Collodion made by dissolving gun-cotton in ether and alcohol, by
Mr. Maynard, of Boston, U.S.

1848. "Photogenic Manipulation:" Part II., Daguerreotype, by Robert
Bingham. Published by George Knight and Sons, London.

-- Albumen on glass plates first employed for making negatives by M.
Niépce de Saint Victor. Process published June 13th.

-- Frederick Scott Archer experimented with paper pulp, tanno-gelatine,
and iodised collodion, and made collodion negatives in the autumn.

1849. Collodion _positive_ of Hever Castle, Kent, made by Frederick
Scott Archer _early_ in the year.

-- M. Gustave Le Gray _suggested_ the application of collodion to
photography.

1850. "A Practical Treatise on Photography upon Paper and Glass," by
Gustave Le Gray. Translated from the French by Thomas Cousins, and
published by T. and R. Willats. This book is said to contain the first
printed notice of collodion being used in photography.

-- R. J. Bingham, London, suggested the use of collodion and gelatine in
photography.

-- M. Poitevin's gelatine process, published January 25th.

1851. Frederick Scott Archer published his collodion process in the
March number of _The Chemist_, and introduced pyrogallic acid as a
developer December 20th.

-- Fox Talbot announced his instantaneous process, and obtained, at the
Royal Institution, a copy of the _Times_ newspaper, while revolving
rapidly, by the light of an electric spark.

-- Niépce de St. Victor's heliochromic process, published June 22nd.
Examples sent to the judges of the International Exhibition of 1862. See
Jurors' Report thereon, pp. 88-9.

-- Sir David Brewster's improved stereoscope applied to photography.

1851. "Photography, a Treatise on the Chemical Changes produced by Solar
Radiation, and the Production of Pictures from Nature, by the
Daguerreotype, Calotype, and other Photographic Processes," by Robert
Hunt. Published by J. J. Griffin and Co., London and Glasgow.

1852. "Archer's Hand-Book of Collodion Process." Published May 14th.
Second edition, enlarged; published 1854.

-- "Archer's Collodion _Positive_ Process." Published July 20th.

-- Fox Talbot's photo-engraving on steel process; patented October
29th.

1853. A Manual of Photography, by Robert Hunt, published.

-- Photographic Society of London founded. Sir Charles Eastlake, P.R.A.,
President; Roger Fenton, Esq., Secretary. First number of the Society's
Journal published March 3rd.

-- Cutting's American patent for use of bromides in collodion obtained
June 11th, and his Ambrotype process introduced in America.

-- "The Waxed-Paper Process," by Gustave Le Gray. Translated from the
French with a supplement, by James How. Published by G. Knight and Co.,
Foster Lane, Cheapside.

-- Frederick Scott Archer introduced a triple lens to shorten the focus
of a double combination lens.

1854. E. R., of Tavistock, published directions for the use of isinglass
as a substitute for collodion.

-- First series of photographic views of Kenilworth Castle, &c., from
collodion negatives, published by Frederick Scott Archer.

-- Liverpool Photographic Journal, first published by Henry Greenwood,
bi-monthly.

-- First roller-slide patented by Messrs. Spencer and Melhuish, May
22nd.

-- Fox Talbot first applied albumen to paper to obtain a finer surface
for photographic printing.

-- Photo-Enamel process; first patent December 13th.

-- Dry collodion plates first introduced.

1855. M. Poitevin's helioplastic process patented February 20th.

-- Dr. J. M. Taupenot's dry plate process introduced.

-- Photo-galvanic process patented June 5th.

-- "Hardwich's Photographic Chemistry." First edition, published March
12th.

-- Ferrotype process introduced in America by Mr. J. W. Griswold.

1856. "Photographic Notes." Edited by Thomas Sutton. Commenced January
1st; bi-monthly.

1856. Sutton's Calotype process, published March.

1856. Dr. Hill Norris's dry plate process. Patented September 1st.

1856. Caranza published method of toning silver prints with chloride of
platinum.

1857. Moule's photogene, artificial light for portraiture. Patented
February 18th.

-- Carte-de-visite portraits introduced by M. Ferrier, of Nice.

-- Kinnear Camera introduced. Made by Bell, Edinburgh.

1858. Pouncy's Carbon process patented April 10th.

-- Skaife's Pistolgraph camera introduced.

1858. J. C. Burnett exposed the back of the carbon paper and obtained
half-tones.

-- Fox Talbot's photo-etching process, patented April 20th.

-- Paul Pretsch's photo-engraving process introduced.

-- "Sutton's Dictionary of Photography," published August 17th.

-- _The Photographic News_, founded, weekly. First number published
September 10th, by Cassell, Petter, and Galpin, London.

-- "Fothergill Dry Process," by Alfred Keene, published August.

1859. Sutton's panoramic camera patented, September 28th.

-- Photo-lithographic Transfer process patented by Osborne, in
Melbourne, Australia.

-- Wm. Blair, of Perth, secured half-tone in carbon printing by allowing
the light to pass through the back of the paper on which the pigment was
spread.

-- Asser, of Amsterdam, also invented a photo-lithographic transfer
process about this time.

1860. "Principles and Practice of Photography," by Jabez Hughes. First
edition published; fourteenth edition, 1887.

-- Fargier coated carbon surface with collodion, exposed, and
transferred to glass to develop.

-- Spectroscope invented by Kertchoff and Bunsen.

1860. "Year-Book of Photography," edited by G. Wharton Simpson, first
published.

-- Improved Kinnear camera with swing front and back by Meagher.

1861. Captain Dixon's iodide emulsion process patented, April 29th.

-- M. Gaudin, of Paris, employed gelatine in his photogene, and
published in _La Lumière_ his collodio-iodide and collodio-chloride
processes.

-- H. Anthony, New York, discovered that Tannin dry plates could be
developed by moisture and ammonia vapour.

1862. "Alkaline Development," published by Major Russell.

-- Meagher's square bellows camera, with folding bottom board, exhibited
at the International Exhibition. Noticed in Jurors' Report.

-- Parkesine, the forerunner of celluloid films, invented by Alexander
Parkes, of Birmingham.

1863. Pouncy's fatty ink process; patented January 29th.

-- Toovey's photo-lithographic process; patented June 29th.

-- "Tannin Process," published by Major Russell.

-- "Popular Treatise on Photography," by D. Van Monckhoven. Translated
from the French by W. H. Thornthwaite, London.

1864. Swan's improved carbon process; patented August 27th.

-- "Collodio-Bromide Emulsion," by Messrs. B. J. Sayce and W. B. Bolton;
published September 9th.

-- "Collodio-Chloride Emulsion," by George Wharton Simpson; published in
_The Photographic News_, October 28th.

-- Willis's aniline process; patented November 11th.

-- Obernetter's chromo-photo process; published.

-- Instantaneous dry collodion processes by Thomas Sutton, B.A. Sampson,
Low, Son, and Marston, London.

1865. Paper read on "Collodio-Chloride Emulsion," by George Wharton
Simpson, at the Photographic Society, March 14th.

1865. Photography, a lecture, by the Hon. J. W. Strutt, now Lord
Rayleigh, delivered April 18th; and afterwards published.

-- Eburneum process; published by J. Burgess, Norwich, in _The
Photographic News_, May 5th.

-- Bromide as a restrainer in the developer; published by Major Russell.

1865. Interior of Pyramids of Egypt, photographed by Professor Piazzi
Smyth with the magnesium light.

-- W. H. Smith patented a gelatino-bromide or gelatino-chloride of
silver process for wood blocks, &c.

1866. Magic photographs revived and popularised.

-- Woodburytype process patented by Walter Bentley Woodbury, of
Manchester, July 24th.

-- Photography reviewed, in _British Quarterly Review_, by George
Wharton Simpson, October 1st.

1867. M. Poitevin obtained the balance of the Duc de Luynes's prize for
permanent printing.

-- Cabinet portraits introduced by F. R. Window, photographer, Baker
Street, London.

1868. W. H. Harrison experimented with gelatino-bromide of silver and
obtained results, though somewhat rough and unsatisfactory.

1869. John Robert Johnson's carbon process double transfer patented.

-- "Pictorial Effect in Photography," by H. P. Robinson, first edition.
London: Piper and Carter.

1870. Thomas Sutton described Gaudin's gelatino-iodide process.

-- Jabez Hughes toned collodion transfers with chloride of palladium.

-- John Robert Johnson's single transfer process for carbon printing
patented.

1871. Dr. R. L. Maddox, of Southampton, published his experiments with
gelatino-bromide of silver in the _British Journal of Photography_,
September 8th.

1872. "Émaux Photographiques" (photographic enamels), second edition, by
Geymet and Alker, Paris.

1873. J. Burgess, of Peckham, advertised his gelatino-bromide of silver
emulsion, but it would not keep, so had to be withdrawn.

-- Ostendo non Ostento published a gelatino-bromide of silver formula
with alcohol.

-- Platinotype process patented by W. Willis, junior, June 1st.

1873. R. Kennett's gelatino-bromide of silver pellicle patented November
20th.

-- "The Ferrotypers' Guide" published by Scovill Manufacturing Company,
New York.

1874. R. Kennett issued his gelatino-bromide of silver dry plates in
March.

-- Gelatino-bromide of silver paper first announced by Peter Mawdsley,
of Liverpool Dry Plate Company.

-- "Backgrounds by Powder Process" published by J. Werge, London.

-- Flexible supports in carbon printing patented by John Robert Sawyer,
of the Autotype Company.

-- Leon Lambert's carbon printing process patented.

1875. Demonstrations in carbon printing by L. Lambert given in London
and elsewhere.

-- Eder and Toth intensified collodion negatives and toned lantern
slides with chloride of platinum.

1876. "Practical Treatise on Enamelling and Retouching," by P. Piquepé,
Piper and Carter, London.

1877. Ferrous oxalate developer published June 29th.

-- Wratten precipitated the gelatine emulsion with alcohol, and so
avoided the necessity of dialysing.

1878. Improvement in platinotype patented by W. Willis, junior, July.

-- Abney's "Treatise on Photography" published.

-- Abney's "Emulsion Process" published.

1879. J. Werge's non-actinic developing tray introduced at the South
London Photographic Society.

1880. "Principles and Practice of Photography," by Jabez Hughes,
comprising instructions to make and manipulate gelatino dry plates, by
J. Werge. London: Simpkin and Marshall, and J. Werge.

-- Gelatino-bromide of silver paper introduced by Messrs. Morgan and
Kidd.

-- Platinotype improvement patent granted.

-- Iodides added to gelatino-bromide of silver emulsions by Captain W.
de W. Abney.

1880. Warnerke's sensitometer introduced.

-- "The Argentic Gelatino-Bromide Workers' Guide," by John Burgess. W.
T. Morgan and Co., Greenwich.

-- "Photography; its Origin, Progress, and Practice," by J. Werge.
London: Simpkin, Marshall, and Co.

-- Hydroquinone developer introduced by Dr. Eder and Captain Toth.

1881. Stannotype process introduced by Walter Woodbury.

-- Photographers in Great Britain and Ireland 7,614 as per census
returns.

-- "Modern Dry Plates; or Emulsion Photography," by Dr. J. M. Eder,
translated from the German by H. Wilmer, edited by H. B. Pritchard.
London: Piper and Carter.

-- "Pictorial Effect in Photography," by H. P. Robinson (cheap edition).
Piper and Carter.

-- "The Art and Practice of Silver Printing," by H. P. Robinson and
Captain Abney. Piper and Carter.

1882. Herbert B. Berkeley recommended the use of sulphite of soda with
pyrogallic acid to prevent discolouration of film.

-- "Recent Advances in Photography" (Cantor Lectures, Society of Arts),
Captain Abney. London: Piper and Carter.

1882. "The A B C of Modern Photography," comprising practical
instructions for working gelatine dry plates, by W. K. Burton. London:
Piper and Carter.

1882. "Elementary Treatise on Photographic Chemistry," by A. Spiller.
London: Piper and Carter.

1883. Translation of Captain Pizzighelli and Baron A. Hubl's booklet on
"Platinotype;" published in _The Photographic Journal_.

-- Orthochromatic dry plates; English patent granted to Tailfer and
Clayton, January 8th.

-- "The Chemical Effect of the Spectrum," by Dr. J. M. Eder. (Translated
from the German by Captain Abney). London: Harrison and Sons.

1883. "The Chemistry of Light and Photography," by Dr. H. Vogel. London:
Kegan Paul.

1884. "Recent Improvements in Photo-Mechanical Printing Methods," by
Thomas Bolas, Society of Arts, London.

-- "Picture-Making by Photography," by H. P. Robinson. London: Piper and
Carter.

1885. "Photography and the Spectroscope," by Capt. Abney, Society of
Arts.

-- "The Spectroscope and its Relation to Photography," by C. Ray Woods.
London: Piper and Carter.

-- "Photo-Micrography," by A. C. Malley; second edition. London: H. K.
Lewis.

1886. Orthochromatic results exhibited by Dixon and Sons at the
photographic exhibition in October.

-- English patent rights of Tailfer and Clayton's orthochromatic process
secured by B. J. Edwards and Co., Nov. 18th.

1887. Platinotype improvements; two patents.

1888. Pizzighelli's visible platinotype printing paper put on the market
in June.

1889. Eikonogen developer patented by Dr. Andresen, of Berlin, Germany,
March 26th.

-- Wire frames and supports in camera extensions patented by Thomas
Rudolph Dallmeyer and Francis Beauchamp, November 6th.




CONTRIBUTIONS TO PHOTOGRAPHIC LITERATURE.

BY

JOHN WERGE.

_Originally published in the "Photographic News," "British Journal
of Photography," Photographic Year-Book, and Photographic Almanac._


PICTURES OF NIAGARA.

Taken with Camera, Pen, and Pencil.

Many very beautiful and interesting photographic views of Niagara Falls,
and other places of romantic and marvellous interest, have been taken
and exhibited to the world. Indeed, they are to be seen now in almost
every print-seller's window; and in the albums, stereoscopes, or folios
of almost every private collector. But I question very much if it ever
occurred to the mind of anyone, while looking at those pictures, what an
amount of labour, expense, and danger had to be endured and encountered
to obtain them--"the many hairbreadth 'scapes by flood and field," of a
very "positive" character, which had to be risked before some of the
"negatives" could be "boxed." Doubtless Mr. England, Mr. Stephen
Thompson, and Mr. Wilson have many very vivid recollections of the
critical situations they have been in while photographing the
picturesque scenery of the Alpine passes of Switzerland, and the
Highlands and glens of Scotland.

Mr. Stephen Thompson has narrated to me one or two of his "narrow
escapes" while photographing his "Swiss scenes," and I am sure Mr.
England did not procure his many and beautiful "points of view" of
Niagara Falls without exposing himself to considerable risk.

I had the good fortune to be one of the earlier pioneers, in company
with a Yankee friend, Mr. Easterly, in taking photographs of the Falls;
and my recollections of the manner in which we "went about," poised
ourselves and cameras on "points of rock" and "ledges of bluffs," and
felled trees, and lopped off branches overhanging precipices, to "gain a
point," even at the distant date are somewhat thrilling. To take a
photograph of what is called "Visitors' View" is safe and easy enough.
You might plant a dozen cameras on the open space at the brink of the
"American Fall," and photograph the scene, visitors and all, as they
stand, "fixed" with wonder, gazing at the Falls, American, Centre, and
Horseshoe, Goat Island, and the shores of Canada included, for this
point embraces in one view all those subjects. But to get at the
out-of-the-way places, to take the Falls in detail, and obtain some of
the grandest views of them, is a very different matter.

I remember, when we started, taking a hatchet with us, like
backwoodsmen, to take a view of Prospect Tower, on the American side of
the great Horseshoe Fall, how we had to hew down the trees that
obstructed the light; how we actually hung over the precipice, holding
on to each other's hands, to lop off a branch still in sight where it
was not wanted. The manner in which we accomplished this was what some
bystanders pronounced "awful." I hugged a sapling of a silver birch,
growing on the brink of the precipice, with my left arm, while friend
Easterly, holding my right hand with one of the Masonic grips--I won't
say which--_hung over_ the precipice, and stretching out as far as he
could reach, lopped off the offending branch. Yet in this perilous
position my lively companion must crack his joke by punning upon my
name, and a Cockney weakness at the same time, for he "guessed he was
below the _w_erge of the precipice." The branch down, and we had resumed
our perpendicular positions, he simply remarked, if that was not
holding on to a man's hand in _friendship_, he did not know what was.

But the _work_ was not done yet; to get the view of the Tower we wanted,
we had to make a temporary platform over the precipice. This we managed
by laying a piece of "lumber" across a fallen tree, and, unshipping the
camera, shoved it along the plank until it was in position, balancing
the shore end of the plank with heavy stones. When all was ready for
exposure, I went round and stood on the point of a jutting rock to give
some idea of the great depth of the Fall, but I very nearly discovered,
and just escaped being myself the plummet. In the excitement of the
moment, and not thinking that the rock would be slimy and slippery with
the everlasting spray, I went too rapidly forward, and the rock having a
slight decline, I slipped, but was fortunately brought up by a juniper
bush growing within a foot of the edge. For a second or two I lay on my
back wondering if I could slide out of my difficulty as easily as I had
slidden into it. In a moment I determined to go backwards on my back,
hands, and feet, until I laid hold of another bush, and could safely
assume a perpendicular position. After giving the signal that "all was
right," the plate was exposed, and I _cautiously_ left a spot I have no
desire to revisit. But it is astonishing how the majesty and grandeur of
the scene divest the mind of all sense of fear, and to this feeling, to
a great extent, is attributed the many accidents and terrible deaths
that have befallen numerous visitors to the Falls.

The Indians, the tribe of the Iroquois, who were the aboriginal
inhabitants of that part of the country, had a tradition that the "Great
Spirit" of the "Mighty Waters" required the sacrifice of two human lives
every year. To give rise to such a tradition, doubtless, many a red man,
in his skiff, had gone over the Falls, centuries before they were
discovered by the Jesuit missionary, Father Hennepin, in 1678; and, even
in these days of Christian civilization, and all but total extirpation
of the aboriginals, the "Great Spirit" does not appear to be any less
exacting. Nearly every year one or more persons are swept over those
awful cataracts, making an average of at least one per annum. Many
visitors and local residents have lost their lives under the most
painful and afflicting circumstances, the most remarkable of which
occurred just before my visit. One morning, at daylight, a man was
discovered in the middle of the rapids, a little way above the brink of
the American Fall. He was perched upon a log which was jammed between
two rocks. One end of the log was out of the water, and the poor fellow
was comparatively dry, but with very little hope of being rescued from
his dreadful situation. No one could possibly reach him in a boat. The
foaming and leaping waters were rushing past him at the rate of eighteen
or twenty miles an hour, and he knew as well as anyone that to attempt a
rescue in a boat or skiff would be certain destruction, yet every effort
was made to save him. Rafts were made and let down, but they were either
submerged, or the ropes got fast in the rocks. The life-boat was brought
from Buffalo, Lake Erie, and that was let down to him by ropes from the
bridge, but they could not manage the boat in that rush of waters, and
gave it up in despair. One of the thousands of agonized spectators, a
Southern planter, offered a thousand dollars reward to anyone that would
save the "man on the log." Another raft was let down to him, and this
time was successfully guided to the spot. He got on it, but being weak
from exposure and want, he was unable to make himself fast or retain his
hold, and the doomed man was swept off the raft and over the Falls
almost instantly, before the eyes of thousands, who wished, but were
powerless and unable, to rescue him from his frightful death. His name
was Avery. He and another man were taking a pleasure sail on the Upper
Niagara river, their boat got into the current, was sucked into the
rapids, and smashed against the log or the rock. The other man went over
the Falls at the time of the accident; but Avery clung to the log, where
he remained for about eighteen hours in such a state of mind as no one
could possibly imagine. None could cheer him with a word of hope, for
the roar of the rapids and thunder of the cataracts rendered all other
sounds inaudible. Mr. Babbitt, a resident photographer, took several
Daguerreotypes of the "man on the log," one of which he kindly presented
to me. Few of the bodies are ever recovered. One or two that went over
the Great Horse Shoe Fall were found, their bodies in a state of
complete nudity. The weight or force of the water strips them of every
particle of clothing; but that is not to be wondered at, considering the
immense weight of water that rolls over every second, the distance it
has to fall, and the depth of the foaming cauldron below. The fall of
the Horse Shoe to the surface of the lower river is 158 feet, and the
depth of the cauldron into which the Upper Niagara leaps about 300 feet,
making a total of 458 feet from the upper to the lower bed of the
Niagara River at the Great Horse Shoe Fall. It has been computed that
one hundred million, two hundred thousand tons of water pass over the
Falls every hour. The depth of the American Fall is 164 feet; but that
falls on to a mass of broken rocks a few feet above the level of the
lower river.

Our next effort was to get a view of the Centre Fall, or "Cave of the
Winds," from the south, looking at the Centre and American Falls, down
the river as far as the Suspension Bridge, about two miles below, and
the Lower or Long Rapids, for there are rapids both above and below the
Falls. In this we succeeded tolerably well, and without any difficulty.
Then, descending the "Biddle Stairs" to the foot of the two American
cataracts, we tried the "Cave of the Winds" itself; but, our process
not being a "wet" one, had no sympathy with the blinding and drenching
spray about us. However, I secured a pencil sketch of the scene we
could not photograph, and afterwards took one of the most novel and
fearful shower-baths to be had in the world. Dressed--or, rather,
undressed--for the purpose, and accompanied by a guide, I passed down
by the foot of the precipice, under the Centre Fall, and along a wet and
slippery pole laid across a chasm, straddling it by a process I cannot
describe--for I was deaf with the roar and blind with the spray--we
reached in safety a flat rock on the other side, and then stood erect
between the two sheets of falling water. To say that I saw anything
while there would be a mistake; but I know and felt by some
demonstrations, other than ocular, that I was indulging in a bath of the
wildest and grandest description. Recrossing the chasm by the pole, we
now entered the "Cave of the Winds," which is immediately under the
Centre Fall. The height and width of the cave is one hundred feet, and
the depth sixty feet. It takes its name from the great rush of wind into
the cave, caused by the fall of the waters from above. Standing in the
cave, which is almost dry, you can view the white waters, like
avalanches of snow, tumbling over and over in rapid succession. The
force of the current of the rapids above shoots the water at least
twenty feet from the rock, describing, as it were, the segment of a
circle. By this circumstance only are you able to pass under the Centre
Fall, and a portion of the Horse Shoe Fall on the Canadian side. To
return, we ascended the "Biddle Stairs," a spiral staircase of 115
steps, on the west side of Goat Island, crossed the latter, and by a
small bridge passed to Bath Island, which we left by the grand bridge
which crosses the rapids about 250 yards above the American Fall.
Reaching the American shore again in safety, after a hard day's work, we
availed ourselves of Mr. Babbitt's kindness and hospitality to develop
our plates in his dark room, and afterwards developed ourselves,
sociably and agreeably, refreshing the inner man, and narrating our
day's adventures.

I shall now endeavour to describe our next trip, which was to the
Canadian side--how we got there, what we did, and what were the
impressions produced while contemplating those wonderful works of
nature. In the first place, to describe how we descended to the "ferry"
and crossed the river. On the north side of the American Fall a railway
has been constructed by an enterprising American, where the "cars" are
let down a steep decline by means of water-power, the proprietor of the
railway having utilized the very smallest amount of the immense force so
near at hand. Placing our "traps" in the car, and seating ourselves
therein, the lever was moved by the "operator," and away we went down
the decline as if we were going plump into the river below; but at the
proper time the water was turned off, and we were brought to a
standstill close by the boat waiting to ferry us across. Shifting our
traps and selves into the boat and sitting down, the ferryman bent to
the oars and off we dashed into the dancing and foaming waters, keeping
her head well to the stream, and drawing slowly up until we came right
abreast of the American Fall; then letting her drop gently down the
stream, still keeping her head to the current, we gained the Canadian
shore; our course on the river describing the figure of a cone, the apex
towards the "Horse Shoe." Ascending the banks by a rather uphill road,
we reached the Clifton Hotel, where we took some refreshments, and then
commenced our labours of photographing the Grand Rapids and the Falls,
from Table Rock, or what remained of it. On arriving at the spot, we set
down our traps and looked about bewildered for the best point. To
attempt to describe the scene now before us would be next to folly, nor
could the camera, from the limited angle of our lens, possibly convey an
adequate idea of the grandeur and terrific beauty of the Grand Rapids,
as you see them rushing and foaming, white with rage, for about two and
a half miles before they make their final plunge over the precipice.
Many years ago an Indian was seen standing up in his canoe in the midst
of these fearful rapids. Nearing the brink of the terrible Fall, and
looking about him, he saw that all hope was lost, for he had passed
Gull Island, his only chance of respite; waving his hand, he was seen
to lie down in the bottom of his canoe, which shot like an arrow into
the wild waters below, and he was lost for ever. Neither he nor his
canoe was ever seen again. In 1829 the ship _Detroit_, loaded with a
live buffalo, bear, deer, fox, &c., was sent over the Falls. She was
almost dashed to pieces in the rapids, but many persons saw the remains
of the ship rolled over into the abyss of waters. No one knew what
became of the animals on board. And in 1839, during the Canadian
Rebellion, the steamer _Caroline_ was set fire to in the night and cast
adrift. She was drawn into the rapids, but struck on Gull Island, and
was much shattered by the collision. The bulk of the burning mass was
swept over the Falls, but few witnessed the sight. Doubtless no fire on
board a ship was ever extinguished so suddenly. The view from Table Rock
is too extensive to be rendered on one plate by an ordinary camera; but
the pantascopic camera would give the very best views that could
possibly be obtained.

Taking Table Rock as the centre, the entire sweep of the Fall is about
180 degrees, and stretching from point to point for nearly
three-quarters of a mile--from the north side of the American Fall to
the termination of the Horse Shoe Fall on the west side. The American
and Centre Falls present a nearly straight line running almost due north
and south, while the Great Horse Shoe Fall presents a line or figure
resembling a sickle laid down with the left hand, the convex part of the
bow lying direct south, the handle lying due east and west, with the
point or termination to the west; the waters of the two American Falls
rushing from east to west, and the waters of the Canadian Fall bounding
towards the north. By this description it will be seen that but for the
intervention of Goat and Luna Islands the three sheets of water would
embrace each other like mighty giants locked in a death struggle, before
they fell into the lower river. The whole aspect of the Falls from
Table Rock is panoramic. Turning to the left, you see the American
rapids rushing down furiously under the bridge, between Bath Island and
the American shore, with a force and velocity apparently great enough to
sweep away the bridge and four small islands lying a little above the
brink, and pitch them all down on to the rocks below. Turning slowly to
the right, you see the Centre Fall leaping madly down between Luna and
Goat Islands, covering the Cave of the Winds from view. A little more to
the right, the rocky and precipitous face of Goat or Iris Island, with
the "Biddle Stairs" like a perpendicular line running down the
precipice; and to the extreme right the immense sweeps of the Great
Horse Shoe.

Doubtless this fall took its name from its former resemblance to the
shape of a horse shoe. It is, however, nothing like that now, but is
exactly the figure of a sickle, as previously described. Looking far up
the river you observe the waters becoming broken and white, and so they
continue to foam and rush and leap with increasing impetuosity, rushing
madly past the "Three Sisters"--three islands on the left--and "Gull
Island" in the middle of the rapids, on which it is supposed no man has
ever trodden, until, with a roar of everlasting thunder, which shakes
the earth, they fall headlong into the vortex beneath. At the foot of
this Fall, and for a considerable distance beyond, the river is as white
as the eternal snows, and as troubled as an angry sea. Indeed, I never
but once saw the Atlantic in such a state, and that was in a storm in
which we had to "lay to" for four days in the Gulf Stream.

The colours and beauty of Niagara in sunlight are indescribable. You may
convey _some_ idea of its form, power, and majesty, by describing lines
and giving figures of quantity and proportion, but to give the faintest
impression of its beauty and colours is almost hopeless. The rich,
lovely green on the very brink of the Horse Shoe Fall is beyond
conception. All the emeralds in the world, clustered together and bathed
in sunlight, would fall far short of the beauty and brilliancy of that
pure and dazzling colour. It can only be compared to an immense, unknown
brilliant of the emerald hue, in a stupendous setting of the purest
frosted, yet sparkling silver. Here, too, is to be seen the marvellous
beauty of the prismatic colours almost daily. Here you might think the
"Covenant" had been made, and set up to shine for ever and ever at the
Throne of the Most Mighty, and here only can be seen the complete
_circle_ of the colours of the rainbow. I saw this but once, when on
board the _Maid of the Mist_, and almost within the great vortex at the
foot of the Falls. A brilliant sun shining through the spray all round,
placed us in a moment as it were in the very centre of that beautiful
circle of colour, which, with the thunder of the cataract, and the
sublimity of the scene, made the soul feel as if it were in the presence
of the "Great Spirit," and this the sign and seal of an eternal compact.
Here, also, is to be seen the softer, but not the less beautiful Lunar
Rainbow. Whenever the moon is high enough in the heavens, the lunar bow
can be seen, not fitful as elsewhere, but constant and beautiful as long
as the moon is shedding her soft light upon the spray. On one occasion I
saw two lunar bows at once, one on the spray from the American Fall, and
the other on the spray of the great Horse Shoe Fall. This I believe is
not usual, but an eddy of the wind brought the two clouds of spray under
the moon's rays. Yet these are not all the "beauties of the mist." One
morning at sunrise I saw one of the most beautiful forms the spray could
possibly assume. The night had been unusually calm, the morning was as
still as it could be, and the mist from the Horse Shoe had risen in a
straight column to a height of at least 300 feet, and then spread out
into a mass of huge rolling clouds, immediately above the cataracts. The
rising sun shed a red lustre on the under edges of the cloud, which was
truly wonderful. It more resembled one huge, solitary column supporting
a canopy of silvery grey cloud, the edges of which were like burnished
copper, and highly suggestive of the Temple of the Most High, where man
must bow down and worship the great Creator of all these wondrous works.
It is not in a passing glance at Niagara that all its marvellous
beauties can be seen. You must stay there long enough to see it in all
its aspects--in sunshine and in moonlight, in daylight and in darkness,
in storm and in calm. No picture of language can possibly convey a just
conception of the grandeur and vastness of these mighty cataracts. No
poem has ever suggested a shadow of their majesty and sublimity. No
painting has ever excited in the mind, of one that has not seen those
marvellous works of God, the faintest idea of their dazzling beauties.
Descriptive writers, both in prose and verse, have failed to depict the
glories of this "Sovereign of the World of Floods." Painters have
essayed with their most gorgeous colours, but have fallen far short of
the intense beauty, transparency, and purity of the water, and the
wonderful radiance and brilliancy of the "Rainbow in the Mist." And I
fear the beauties of Niagara in natural colours can never be obtained in
the camera; but what a glorious triumph for photography if they were.
Mr. Church's picture, painted a few years ago, is the most faithful
exponent of nature's gorgeous colouring of Niagara that has yet been
produced. Indeed, the brilliant and harmonious colouring of this grand
picture can scarcely be surpassed by the hand and skill of man.

After obtaining our views of the Grand Rapids and the Falls from Table
Rock, we put up our traps, and leaving them in charge of the courteous
proprietor of the Museum, we prepared to go _under_ the great Horse Shoe
Fall. Clothing ourselves in india-rubber suits, furnished by our guide,
we descended the stairs near Table Rock, eighty-seven steps, and, led by
a negro, we went under the great sheet of water as far as we could go to
Termination Rock, and standing there for a while in that vast cave of
watery darkness, holding on to the negro's hand, we felt lost in wonder
and amazement, but not fear. How long we might have remained in that
bewildering situation it would be impossible to say, but being gently
drawn back by our sable conductor, we returned to the light and
consciousness of our position. The volume of water being much greater
here than at the Cave of the Winds, and the spray being all around, we
could not see anything but darkness visible below, and an immense moving
mass before, which we knew by feeling to be water. There is some
fascination about the place, for after coming out into the daylight I
went back again alone, but the guide, hurrying after me, brought me
back, and held my hand until we reached the stairs to return to the
Museum. On our way back our guide told us that more than "twice-told
tale" of Niagara and Vesuvius. If I may be pardoned for mixing up the
ridiculous with the sublime, I may as well repeat the story, for having
just come from under the Falls we were prepared to believe the truth of
it, if the geographical difficulty could have been overcome. An Italian
visiting the Falls and going under the Horse Shoe, was asked, on coming
out, what he thought of the sight. The Italian replied it was very grand
and wonderful, but _nothing_ to the sight of Mount Vesuvius in a grand
eruption. The guide's retort was, "I guess if you bring _your_ Vesuvius
here, _our_ Niagara will soon put his fires out." I do not vouch for the
truth of the story, but give it as nearly as possible as I was told.
Returning to the Museum and making ourselves "as we were," and
comforting ourselves with something inside after the wetting we had got
out, we took up our traps, and wending our way back to the ferry,
recrossed the river in much the same manner that we crossed over in the
morning; and sending our "baggage" up in the cars we thought we would
walk up the "long stairs," 290 steps, by the side of the railway. On
nearing the top, we felt as if we must "cave in," but having trodden so
far the back of a "lion," we determined to see the end of his tail, and
pushing on to the top, we had the satisfaction of having accomplished
the task we had set ourselves. Perhaps before abandoning the Canadian
side of Niagara, I should have said something about Table Rock, which,
as I have said, is on the Canadian side, and very near to the Horse Shoe
Fall. It took its name from the table-like form it originally presented.
It was formerly much larger than it is now, but has, from time to time,
fallen away. At one time it was very extensive and projected over the
precipice fifty or sixty feet, and was about 240 feet long and 100 feet
thick. On the 26th of June, 1850, this tremendous mass of rock, nearly
half an acre, fell into the river with a crash and a noise like the
sound of an earthquake. The whole of that immense mass of rock was
buried in the depths of the river, and completely hidden from sight. No
one was killed, which was a miracle, for several persons had been
standing on the rock just a few minutes before it fell. The vicinity is
still called Table Rock, though the projecting part that gave rise to
the name is gone. It is, nevertheless, the best point on the Canada side
for obtaining a grand and comprehensive view of Niagara Falls.

The next scenes of our photographic labours were Suspension Bridge, the
Long Rapids, The Whirlpool, and Devil's Hole. These subjects, though not
so grand as Niagara, are still interestingly and closely associated with
the topographical history and legendary interest of the Falls. And we
thought a few "impressions" of the scenes, and a visit to the various
places, would amply repay us for the amount of fatigue we should have to
undergo on such a trip under the scorching sun of _August in America_.
Descending to the shore, and stepping on board the steamer _Maid of the
Mist_, which plies up and down the river for about two miles, on the
tranquil water between the Falls and the Lower Rapids, we were "cast
off," and in a little time reached the landing stage, a short distance
above the Long Rapids. Landing on the American side, we ascended the
steep road, which has been cut out of the precipice, and arriving at
Suspension Bridge, proceeded to examine that wonderful specimen of
engineering skill. It was not then finished, but the lower level was
complete, and foot passengers and carriages could go along. They were
busy making the railway "track" overhead, so that, when finished (which
it is now), it would be a bridge of two stories--the lower one for
passengers on foot and carriages, the upper one for the "cars." I did
not see a "snorting monster" going along that spider's-web-like
structure, but can very well imagine what must be the sensations of
"railway passengers" as they pass along the giddy height. The span of
the bridge, from bank to bank, is 800 feet, and it is 230 feet from the
river to the lower or carriage road. The estimated cost was two hundred
thousand dollars, about £40,000. A boy's toy carried the first wire
across the river. When the wind was blowing straight across, a wire was
attached to a kite, and thus the connecting thread between the two sides
was secured, and afterwards by means of a running wheel, or traveller,
wire after wire was sent across until each strand was made thick enough
to carry the whole weight of the bridge, railway trains, and other
traffic which now pass along. We went on to the bridge, and looked down
on the rapids below, for the bridge spans the river at the narrowest
point, and right over the commencement of the Lower Rapids. It was more
of a test to my nerves to stand at the edge of the bridge and look down
on those fearful rapids than it was to go under the Falls. To us, it
seemed a miracle of ingenuity and skill how, from so frail a connection,
a mere wire, so stupendous a structure could have been formed; and yet,
viewing it from below, or at a distance, it looked like a bridge of
threads. During its erection several accidents occurred. On one
occasion, when the workmen were just venturing on to the cables to lay
the flooring, and before a plank was made fast, one of those sudden
storms, so peculiar to America, came up and carried away all the
flooring into the Rapids. Four of the men were left hanging to the
wires, which were swaying backwards and forwards in the hurricane in
the most frightful manner. Their cries for help could scarcely be heard,
from the noise of the Rapids and the howling of the wind, but the
workmen on shore, seeing the perilous condition of their comrades, sent
a basket, with a man in it, down the wire to rescue them from death.
Thus, one by one, they were saved. Leaving the Bridge, and proceeding to
the vicinity of the Whirlpool, still keeping the American side of the
river, we pitched the camera, not _over_ the precipice, as I heard of
one brother photographer doing, but on it, and took a view of the Bridge
and the Rapids looking up towards the Falls, but a bend in the river
prevented them being seen from this point. Not very far above the angry
flood we saw the _Maid of the Mist_ lying quietly at her moorings.

We next turned our attention to the great Whirlpool, which is about a
mile below Suspension Bridge. Photographically considered, this is not
nearly of so much interest as the Falls; but it is highly interesting,
nevertheless, as a connecting link between their present and past
history. It is supposed that ages ago--probably before the word went
forth, "Let there _be_ light, and there _was_ light"--the Falls were as
low down as the Whirlpool, a distance of over three miles below where
they now are, or even lower down the river still. Geological observation
almost proves this; and, that the present Whirlpool was once the great
basin into which the Falls tumbled. In fact, that this was, in former
ages, what the vortex at the foot of the Great Horse Shoe Fall is now.
There seems to be no doubt whatever that the Falls are gradually though
slowly receding, and they were just as likely to have been at the foot
of the Long Rapids before the deluge, as not; especially when it is
considered that the general aspect of the Falls has changed
considerably, by gradual undermining of the soft shale and frequent
falling and settling of the harder rocks during the last fifty years.
Looking at the high and precipitous boundaries of the Long Rapids, it is
difficult to come to any other conclusion than that, ages before the
red man ever saw the Falls of Niagara, they rolled over a precipice
between these rocky barriers in a more compact, but not less majestic
body. The same vast quantity of water had to force its way through this
narrower outlet, and it doubtless had a much greater distance to fall,
for the precipices on each side of the river at this point are nearly
250 feet high, and the width of the gorge for a mile above and below the
Whirlpool is not more than 700 feet. Considering that the Falls are now
spread over an area of nearly three-quarters of a mile, and that this is
the only outlet for all the superfluous waters of the great inland seas
of Canada and America--Lakes Superior, Michigan, Huron, and Erie--and
the hundreds of tributaries thereto, it may easily be conceived how
great the rush of waters through so narrow a defile must necessarily be;
their turbulence and impatience rather aptly reminding you of a spoilt
child--not in size or form, but in behaviour. They have so long had
their own way, and done as they liked on the upper river and at the
Falls, they seem as if they could not brook the restraint put upon them
now by the giant rocks and lofty precipices that stand erect, on either
side, hurling them back defiantly in tumultuous waves, seething, and
hissing, and roaring in anger, lashing themselves into foam, and
swelling with rage, higher in the middle, as if they sought an
unpolluted way to the lake below, where they might calm their angry and
resentful passions, and lay their chafed heads on the soft and gently
heaving bosom of their lovely sister Ontario. It is a remarkable
circumstance that the waters of the Rapids, both above and below the
Whirlpool, in this defile are actually higher in the middle, by eight or
nine feet, than at the sides, as if the space afforded them by their
stern sentinels on each side were not enough to allow them to pass
through in order and on a level. They seem to come down the upper part
of the gorge like a surging and panic-stricken multitude, until they are
stopped for a time by the gigantic precipice forming the lower boundary
of the Whirlpool, which throws them back, and there they remain whirling
and whirling about until they get away by an under current from the
vortex; and, rising again in the lower part of the gorge, which runs off
at right angles to the upper, they again show their angry heads, and
rush madly and tumultuously away towards Lake Ontario. The bed of these
rapids must be fearfully rugged, or the surface of the waters could not
possibly be in such a broken state, for the water is at least 100 feet
deep, by measurement made above and below the Rapids. But nobody has
ventured to "heave the lead" either in the Rapids themselves or in the
Whirlpool, the depth of which is not known. There is not much
picturesque beauty at this point. Indeed, the Whirlpool itself is rather
of a fearful and horrible character, with little to see but the mad
torrent struggling and writhing in the most furious manner, to force its
way down between its rocky boundaries. I saw logs of wood and other
"wreck," probably portions of canal boats that had come down the river
and been swept over the Falls, whirling around but not coming to the
centre. When they are seen to get to the vortex they are tipped up
almost perpendicularly and then vanish from sight, at last released from
their continually diminishing and circular imprisonment. It has
sometimes happened that the dead bodies of people drowned in the upper
part of the river have been seen whirling about in this frightful pool
for many days. In 1841, three soldiers, deserters from the British army,
attempting to swim across the river above these rapids, were drowned.
Their bodies were carried down to the Whirlpool, where they were seen
whirling about for nearly a fortnight. Leaving _this_ gloomy and
soul-depressing locality we proceeded for about half a mile further down
the river, and visited that frightful chasm called Devil's Hole, or
Bloody Run. The former name it takes from a horrible deed of fiendish
and savage ferocity that was committed there by the Indians, and the
latter name from the circumstance of that deed causing a stream of
human blood to run through the ravine and mingle with the fierce water
of the Rapids. Exactly one hundred years ago, during the French and
Canadian wars, a party of 250 officers, men, women, and children, were
retreating from Fort Schlosser, on the Upper Niagara River, and, being
decoyed into an ambush, were driven over into this dreadful chasm, and
fell to the bottom, a distance of nearly 200 feet. Only two escaped. A
drummer was caught by one of the trees growing on the side of the
precipice, and the other, a soldier named Steadman, escaped during the
conflict, at the commencement of the treacherous onslaught. He was
mounted, and the Indians surrounding him, seized the bridle, and were
attempting to drag him off his horse; but, cutting the reins, and giving
his charger the "rowels deep," the animal dashed forward, and carried
him back in safety to Fort Schlosser. The Indians afterwards gave him
all the land he encircled in his flight, and he took up his abode among
them. In after years he put the goats on Goat Island--hence its name--by
dropping carefully down the middle of the upper stream in a boat. After
landing the goats he returned to the mainland, pushing his boat up the
stream where the Rapids divide, until he reached safe water. The events
of the foregoing episode occurred in 1765, and it is to be hoped that
the Indians were the chief instigators and perpetrators of the massacre
of Bloody Run.

While we were looking about the chasm to see if there were any fossil
remains in the place, an unlooked-for incident occurred. I saw two men
coming up from the bottom of the ravine carrying _fish_--and the oddest
fish and the whitest fish I ever saw. The idea of anyone fishing in
those headlong rapids had never occurred to us; but probably these men
knew some _fissures_ in the rocks where the waters were quiet, and where
the fish put into as a place of refuge from the stormy waters into which
they had been drawn. No wonder the poor finny creatures were white, for
I should think they had been frightened almost out of their lives
before they were seized by their captors. I don't think I should have
liked to have partaken of the meal they furnished, for they were very
"shy-an'-hide" looking fishes. But soon we were obliged to give up both
our geological studies and piscatorial speculations, for black clouds
were gathering overhead, shutting off the light, and making the dark
ravine too gloomy to induce us to prolong our stay in that fearful
chasm, with its melancholy associations of dark deeds of bloodshed and
wholesale murder. Before we gained the road the rain came down, the
lightning flashed, and the thunder clapped, reverberating sharp and loud
from the rocks above, and we hurried away from the dismal place. On
reaching the landing stage, we took refuge from the storm and rain by
again going on board the _Maid of the Mist_. She soon started on her
last trip for the day, and we reached our hotel, glad to get out of a
"positive bath," and indulge in a "toning mixture" of alcohol, sugar,
and _warm_ water. We had no "_gold_" but our "paper" being _good_, we
did not require any.

After a delightful sojourn of three weeks at the Falls, and visiting
many other places of minor interest in their neighbourhood, I bade adieu
to the kind friends I had made and met, with many pleasant recollections
of their kindness, and a never-to-be-forgotten remembrance of the charms
and beauties, mysteries and majesty, power and grandeur, and terror and
sublimity of Niagara.--_Photographic News_, 1865.


PICTURES OF THE ST. LAWRENCE.

Taken in Autumn.

Photographs of the River St. Lawrence conveying an adequate idea of its
extent and varied aspects, could not be taken in a week, a month, or a
year. It is only possible in this sketch to call attention to the most
novel and striking features of this great and interesting river, passing
them hurriedly, as I did, in the "express boat," by which I sailed from
the Niagara River to Montreal. Lake Ontario being the great head waters
of the St. Lawrence, and the natural connection between that river and
Niagara, I shall endeavour to illustrate, with pen and pencil, my sail
down the Niagara River, Lake Ontario, and the St. Lawrence. Stepping on
board the steamer lying at Lewiston, seven miles below Niagara, and
bound for Montreal, I went to the "clerk's office," paid seven and
a half dollars--about thirty shillings sterling--and secured my bed,
board, and passage for the trip, the above small sum being all that is
charged for a first-class passage on board those magnificent steamers. I
don't remember the name of "our boat," but that is of very little
consequence, though I dare say it was the _Fulton_, that being in
steamboat nomenclature what "Washington" is to men, cities, and towns,
and even territory, in America. But she was a splendid vessel,
nevertheless, with a handsome dining saloon, a fine upper saloon running
the whole length of the upper deck, about two hundred feet, an elegant
"ladies' saloon," a stateroom cabin as well, and a powerful "walking
engine." "All aboard," and "let go;" splash went the paddle-wheels, and
we moved off majestically, going slowly down the river until we passed
Fort Niagara on the American side, and Fort George on the British, at
the foot of the river, and near the entrance to the Lake. On Fort
Niagara the "Star Spangled Banner" was floating, its bright blue field
blending with the clear blue sky of an autumn afternoon, its starry
representatives of each State shining like stars in the deep blue vault
of heaven, its red and white bars, thirteen in number, as pure in colour
as the white clouds and crimson streaks of the west. The mingled crosses
of St. Andrew and St. George were waving proudly over the fort opposite.
Brave old flag, long may you wave! These forts played their respective
parts amidst the din of battle during the wars of 1812 and 1813; but
with these we have neither time nor inclination to deal; we, like the
waters of the Niagara, are in a hurry to reach the bosom of Lake
Ontario. Passing the forts, we were soon on the expanse of waters, and
being fairly "at sea," we began to settle ourselves and "take stock," as
it were, of our fellow travellers. It is useless to describe the aspect
of the Lake; I might as well describe the German Ocean, for I could not
see much difference between that and Lake Ontario, except that I could
not sniff the iodine from the weeds drying in the sun while we "hugged
the shore," or taste salt air after we were out in mid ocean--"the land
is no longer in view."

To be at sea is to be at sea, no matter whether it is on a fresh water
ocean or a salt one. The sights, the sensations, and consequences are
much the same. There, a ship or two in full sail; here, a passenger or
two, of both sexes, with the "wind taken out of their sails." The "old
salts" or "old freshes" behave themselves much as usual, and so do the
"green" ones of both atmospheres--the latter by preparing for a "bath"
of perspiration and throwing everything down the "sink," or into the
sea; and the former by picking out companions for the voyage. Being
myself an "old salt," and tumbling in with one or two of a "fellow
feeling wondrous kind," we were soon on as good terms as if we had known
each other for years. After "supper," a sumptuous repast at 6 p.m., we
went on to the "hurricane deck" to enjoy the calm and pleasant evening
outside. There was a "gentle swell" on the Lake--not much, but enough to
upset a few. After dark, we went into the "ladies' cabin"--an elegant
saloon, beautifully furnished, and not without a grand piano, where the
"old freshes" of the softer sex--young and pretty ones too--were amusing
themselves with playing and singing. An impromptu concert was soon
formed, and a few very good pieces of music well played and sung. All
went off very well while nothing but English, or, I should more properly
say, American and Canadian, were sung, but one young lady,
unfortunately, essayed one of the sweetest and most plaintive of Scotch
songs--"Annie Laurie." Now fancy the love-sick "callant" for the sake of
Annie Laurie lying down to _die_; just fancy Annie Laurie without the
Scotch; only fancy Annie Laurie in a sort of mixture of Canadianisms and
Americanisms; fancy "toddy" without the whisky, and you have some idea
of "Annie Laurie" as sung on board the _Fulton_ while splashing away on
Lake Ontario, somewhere between America and Canada. There being little
more to induce us to remain there, and by the ship's regulations it was
getting near the time for "all lights out" in the cabins, we took an
early "turn in," with the view of making an early "turn-out," so as to
be alive and about when we should enter the St. Lawrence, which we did
at 6 o'clock a.m., on a fine bright morning, the sun just rising to
light up and "heighten" all the glorious tints of the trees on the
Thousand and One Islands, among which we were now sailing.

It is impossible to form a correct idea of the width of the St. Lawrence
at the head of the river. The islands are so large and numerous, it is
difficult to come to a conclusion whether you are on a river or on a
lake. Many of these islands are thickly wooded, so that they look more
like the mainland on each side of you as the steamer glides down "mid
channel" between them. The various and brilliant tints of the foliage of
the trees of America in autumn are gorgeous, such as never can be seen
in this country; and their "chromotones" present an insurmountable
difficulty to a photographer with his double achromatic lens and camera.
Imagine our oaks clothed with leaves possessing all the varieties of red
tints, from brilliant carmine down to burnt sienna--the brightest copper
bays that grow in England are cool in tone compared with them; fancy our
beeches, birches, and ashes thick with leaves of a bright yellow colour,
from gamboge down to yellow ochre; our pines, firs, larches, and
spruces, carrying all the varieties of green, from emerald down to terra
verte; in fact, all the tints that are, can be seen on the trees when
they are going into "the sere and yellow leaf" of autumn, excepting
_blue_, and even that is supplied by the bluebirds (Sialia wilsonii)
flitting about among the leaves, and in the deep cool tint of the sky,
repeated and blended with the reflection of the many-coloured trees in
the calm, still water of the river. Some of the trees--the maples, for
instance--exhibit in themselves, most vividly, the brightest shades of
red, green, and yellow; but when the wind blows these resplendent
colours about, the atmosphere is like a mammoth kaleidoscope that is
never allowed to rest long enough to present to the eye a symmetrical
figure or pattern, a perfect chaos of the most vivid and brilliant
colours too gorgeous to depict. Long before this we had got clear of the
islands at the foot of the lake and head of the river, and were steaming
swiftly down the broad St. Lawrence. It is difficult to say how broad,
but it varied from three to five or six miles in width; indeed, the
river very much resembles the Balloch End, which is the broadest of
Lochlomond; and some of the passages between the islands are very
similar to the straits between the "Pass of Balmaha" and the island of
Inchcailliach. The river is not hemmed in with such mountains as Ben
Lomond and Ben Dhu, but, in many respects, the St. Lawrence very much
resembles parts of our widest lakes, Lochlomond and Windermere. Having
enjoyed the sight of the bright, beautiful scenery and the fresh morning
air for a couple of hours, we were summoned to breakfast by the sound of
the steward's "Big Ben." Descending to the lower cabin, we seated
ourselves at the breakfast table, and partook of a most hearty meal. All
the meals on board these steamers are served in the most sumptuous
style. During the repast some talked politics, some dollars and cents,
others were speculating on how we should get down the Rapids, and when
we should make them. Among the latter was myself, for I had seen rapids
which I had not the slightest desire to be in or on; and, what sort of
rapids we were coming to was of some importance to all who had not been
on them. But everybody seemed anxious to be "on deck," and again "look
out" for the quickening of the stream, or when the first "white
lippers," should give indication of their whereabouts. My fellow
passengers were from all parts of the Union; the Yankee "guessed," the
Southerner "reckoned," and the Western man "calculated" we should soon
be among the "jumpers." Each one every now and then strained his eyes
"ahead," down stream, to see if he could descry "broken water." At last
an old river-man sung out, "There they are." There are the Longue Sault
Rapids, the first we reach. Having plenty of "daylight," we did not feel
much anxiety as we neared them, which we quickly did, for "the stream
runs fast." We were soon among the jumping waters, and it is somewhat
difficult to describe the sensation, somewhat difficult to find a
comparison of a suitable character. It is not like being at sea in a
ship in a "dead calm." The vessel does not "roll" with such solemn
dignity, nor does she "pitch" and rise again so buoyantly as an Atlantic
steamer (strange enough, I once crossed the Atlantic in the steamship
_Niagara_), as she ploughs her way westward or eastward in a "head
wind," and through a head sea. She rather kicks and jerks, and is let
"down a peg" or two, with a shake and a fling. Did you ever ride a
spavined horse down a hill? If so, you can form some idea of the manner
in which we were let down the Longue Sault and Cedar Rapids and the St.
Louis Cascades. One of our fellow passengers--a Scotchman--told that
somewhat _apropos_ and humorous story of the "Hielandman's" first trip
across the Firth of Forth in a "nasty sea." Feeling a little uneasy
about the stomach, and his bile being rather disturbed, the prostrate
mountaineer cried out to the man at the "tiller" to "stop tickling the
beast's tail--what was he making the animal kick that way for?" And so,
telling our stories, and cracking our jokes, we spent the time until our
swift vessel brought us to a landing, where we leave her and go on board
a smaller boat, one more suitable for the descent of the more dangerous
rapids, which we have yet to come to.

"All aboard," and away we go again as fast as steam and a strong current
can take us, passing an island here and there, a town or a village half
French and English, with a sprinkling of the Indian tribes, on the banks
of the river now and then. But by this time it is necessary to go below
again and dine. Bed, board, and travelling, are all included in the
fare, so everyone goes to dinner. There is, however, so much to see
during this delightful trip, that nobody likes to be below any longer
than can be avoided. Immediately after dinner most are on deck again,
anxious to see all that is to be seen on this magnificent river. The
sights are various and highly interesting to the mind or "objectives" of
either artist or photographer. Perhaps one of the most novel subjects
for the camera and a day's photographing would be "Life on a Raft," as
you see them drifting down the St. Lawrence. There is an immense raft--a
long, low, flat, floating island, studded with twenty or thirty sails,
and half a dozen huts, peopled with men, women, and children, the little
ones playing about as if they were on a "plank road," or in a garden. It
is "washing day," and the clean clothes are drying in the sun and
breeze--indicative of the strictest domestic economy, and scrupulous
cleanliness of those little huts, the many-coloured garments giving the
raft quite a gay appearance, as if it were decked with the "flags of all
nations." But what a life of tedious monotony it must be, drifting down
the river in this way for hundreds of miles, from the upper part of Lake
Ontario to Montreal or Quebec. How they get down the rapids of the St.
Lawrence I do not know, but I should think they run considerable risk of
being washed off; the raft seems too low in the water, and if not
extremely well fastened, might part and be broken up. We passed two or
three of these rafts, one a very large one, made up of thousands of
timbers laid across and across like warp and weft; yet the people seemed
happy enough on these "timber islands;" we passed them near enough to
see their faces and hear their voices, and I regretted I could not
"catch their shadows," or stop and have an hour or two's work among them
with the camera or the pencil; but we passed them by as if they were a
fixture in the river, and they gave us a shout of "God speed," as if
they did not envy our better pace in the least.

There is abundance of work for the camera at all times of the year on
the St. Lawrence; I have seen it in summer and autumn, and have
attempted to describe some of its attractions. And I was told that when
the river--not the rapids--is ice-bound, the banks covered with snow,
and the trees clad in icicles, they present a beautiful scene in the
sunshine. And in the spring, when the ice is breaking up, and the floes
piling high on one another, it is a splendid sight to see them coming
down, hurled about and smashed in the rapids, showing that the water in
its liquid state is by far the most powerful. But now we are coming to
the most exciting part of our voyage. The steam is shut off, the engine
motionless, the paddle-wheels are still, and we are gliding swiftly and
noiselessly down with the current. Yonder speck on the waters is the
Indian coming in his canoe to pilot us down the dangerous rapids. We
near each other, and he can now be seen paddling swiftly, and his canoe
shoots like an arrow towards us. Now he is alongside, he leaps lightly
on board, his canoe is drawn up after him, and he takes command of the
"boat." Everybody on board knows the critical moment is approaching. The
passengers gather "forward," the ladies cling to the arms of their
natural protectors, conversation is stopped, the countenances of
everyone exhibit intense excitement and anxiety, and every eye is "fixed
ahead," or oscillating between the pilot and the rushing waters which
can now be seen from the prow of the vessel. The Indian and three other
men are at the wheel in the "pilot house," holding the helm "steady,"
and we are rushing down the stream unaided by any other propelling power
than the force of the current, at a rate of twenty miles an hour. Now we
hear the rushing and plunging sound of the waters, and in a moment the
keen eye of the Indian catches sight of the land mark, which is the
signal for putting the helm "hard a port;" the wheel flies round like
lightning, and we are instantly dropped down a perpendicular fall of ten
or twelve feet, the vessel careening almost on her "beam ends," in the
midst of these wild, white waters, an immense rock or rocky island right
ahead. But that is safely "rounded," and we are again in comparatively
quiet water. The steam is turned into the cylinders, and we go on our
course in a sober, sensible, and steamboat-like fashion. When we were
safely past the rapids and round the rock, a gentleman remarked to me
that "once in a lifetime was enough of that." It was interesting to
watch the countenances of the passengers, and mark the difference of
expression before and after the passage of the rapids. Before, it was
all excitement and anxiety, mingled with a wish-it-was-over sort of
look; and all were silent. After, everybody laughed and talked, and
seemed delighted at having passed the _Lachine_ Rapids in safety; yet
most people are anxious to undergo the excitement and incur the risk and
danger of the passage. You can, if you like, leave the boat above
Lachine and proceed to Montreal by the cars, but I don't think any of
our numerous passengers ever thought of doing such a thing. As long as
ever this magnificent water way is free from ice, and the passage can be
made, it is done. I don't know that more than one accident has ever
occurred, but the risk seems considerable. There is a very great strain
on the tiller ropes, and if one of them were to "give out" at the
critical time, nothing could save the vessel from being dashed to pieces
against the "rock ahead," and scarcely a life could be saved. No one can
approach the spot except from above, and then there is no stopping to
help others; you must go with the waters, rushing madly down over and
among the rocks. The Indians often took these rapids, in their canoes,
to descend to the lower part of the St. Lawrence; and one of them
undertook to pilot the first steamer down in safety. His effort was
successful, and he secured for his tribe (the Iroquois) a charter
endowing them with the privileges and emoluments in perpetuity. I wish I
could have obtained photographic impressions of these scenes and groups,
but the only lens I could draw a "focus" with was the eye, and the only
"plate" I had ready for use was the _retina_. However, the impressions
obtained on that were so "vigorous and well-defined," I can at any
moment call them up, like "spirits from the vasty deep," and reproduce
them in my mental camera.

The remaining nine miles of the voyage were soon accomplished. Passing
the first abutment of the Victoria Bridge, which now crosses the St.
Lawrence, at this point two miles wide, we quickly reached the fine quay
and canal locks at Montreal, where we landed just as it was growing
dark, after a delightful and exciting voyage of about thirty hours'
duration, and a distance of more than four hundred miles. Quick work;
but it must be borne in mind how much our speed was accelerated by the
velocity of the current, and that the return trip by the canal, past the
rapids, cannot be performed in anything like the time.

On reaching the quay I parted with my agreeable fellow travellers, and
sought an hotel, where once more, after a long interval, I slept under a
roof over which floated the flag which every Englishman is proud of--the
Union Jack.

Next morning I rose early, and, with a photographic eye, scanned the
city of Montreal. The streets are narrow, but clean, and well built of
stone. Most of the suburban streets and villa residences are "frame
buildings," but there are many handsome villas of stone about the base
of the "mountain." I visited the principal buildings and the Cathedral
of Notre Dame, ascended to the top of the Bell Tower, looked down upon
the city, and had a fine view of its splendid quays and magnificent
river frontage, and across the country southwards for a great distance,
as far as the Adirondack Mountains, where the Hudson River bubbles into
existence at Hendrick Spring, whence it creeps and gathers strength as
it glides and falls and rushes alternately until it enters the Atlantic
below New York, over three hundred miles south of its source. But the
mountain at the back of Montreal prevented my seeing anything beyond the
city in that direction. I afterwards ascended the mountain, from the
summit of which I could see an immense distance up the river, far beyond
Lachine, and across the St. Lawrence, and southwards into the "States."
Being homeward bound, and having no desire at that time to prolong my
stay in the western hemisphere, I did not wait to obtain any photographs
of Montreal or the neighbourhood; but, taking ship for old England, I
leave the lower St. Lawrence and its beauties; Quebec, with its glorious
associations of Wolfe and the plains of Abraham, its fortifications,
which are now being so fully described and discussed in the House of
Commons, and the Gulf of the St. Lawrence, where vessels have sometimes
to be navigated from the "masthead," in consequence of the low-lying sea
fog which frequently prevails there. A man is sent up "aloft" where he
can see over the fog, which lies like a stratum of white cloud on the
gulf, and pilot the ship safely through the fleet of merchantmen which
are constantly sailing up and down while the river is open. The fog may
not be much above the "maintop," but is so dense it is impossible to see
beyond the end of the "bowsprit" from the deck of the ship you are
aboard; but from the "masthead" the "look-out" can see the highland and
the masts and sails of the other ships, and avoid the danger of going
"ashore" or coming into collision by crying out to the man at the wheel
such sea phrases as "Port," "Starboard," "Steady," &c.; and when
"tacking" up or down the gulf, such as "luff," "higher," "let her off."
Indeed, the whole trip of the St. Lawrence--from Lake Ontario to the
Atlantic--is intensely exciting. While off the coast of Newfoundland, I
witnessed one of those beautiful sights of nature in her sternest mood,
which I think has yet to be rendered in the camera--icebergs in the
sunlight. A great deal has been said about their beauty and colour, but
nothing too much. Anyone who saw Church's picture of "The Icebergs,"
exhibited in London last year, may accept that as a faithful reflection
of all their beautiful colours and dreadful desolation. All sailors like
to give them as wide a "berth" as possible, and never admire their
beauty, but shun them for their treachery. Sometimes their base extends
far beyond their perpendicular lines, and many a good ship has struck on
the shoal of ice under water, when the Captain thought he was far enough
away from it. The largest one I saw was above a hundred feet above the
water-line, and as they never exhibit more than one-third of their
ponderous mass of frozen particles, there would be over two hundred feet
of it below water, probably shoaling far out in all directions. We had a
quick run across the Atlantic, and I landed in Liverpool, in the month
of November, amid fog, and smoke, and gloom. What a contrast in the
light! Here it was all fog and darkness, and photography impossible.
There--on the other side of the waters--the light is always abundant
both in winter and summer; and it is only during a snow or rain storm
that our transatlantic brother photographers are brought to a
standstill.--_Photographic News_, 1865.


PHOTOGRAPHIC IMPRESSIONS.

The Hudson, Developed on the Voyage.

"We'll have a trip up the Hudson," said a friend of mine, one of the
best operators in New York; "we'll have a trip up the Hudson, and go and
spend a few days with the 'old folk' in Vermont, and then you will see
us 'Yankees'--our homes and hospitalities--in a somewhat different light
from what you see them in this Gotham."

So it was arranged, and on the day appointed we walked down Broadway,
turned down Courtland Street to the North River, and went on board the
splendid river steamer _Isaac Newton_, named, in graceful compliment,
after one of England's celebrities. Two dollars (eight and fourpence)
each secured us a first-class passage in one of those floating palaces,
for a trip of 144 miles up one of the most picturesque rivers in
America.

Wishing for a thorough change of scene and occupation, and being tired
of "posing and arranging lights" and "drawing a focus" on the faces of
men, women, and children in a stifling and pent-up city, we left the
camera with its "racks and pinions" behind, determined to revel in the
beautiful and lovely only of nature, and breathe the fresh and
exhilarating air as we steamed up the river, seated at the prow, and
fanned by the breeze freshened by the speed of our swift-sailing boat.

Leaving New York, with its hundred piers jutting out into the broad
stream, and its thousand masts and church spires on the one side, and
Jersey City on the other, we are soon abreast of Hoboken and the
"Elysian Fields," where the Germans assemble to drink "lager beer" and
spend their Sundays and holidays. On the right or east side of the river
is Spuyten Duyvil Creek, which forms a junction with the waters of the
Sound or East River, and separates the tongue of land on which New York
stands from the main, making the island of Manhattan. This island is a
little over thirteen miles long and two and a half miles wide. The Dutch
bought the whole of it for £4 16s., and that contemptible sum was not
paid to the poor, ignorant, and confiding Indians in hard cash, but in
toys and trumpery articles not worth half the money. Truly it may be
said that the "Empire City" of the United States did not cost a cent. an
acre not more than two hundred and fifty years ago, and now some parts
of it are worth a dollar a square foot. At Spuyten Duyvil Creek Henry
Hudson had a skirmish with the Indians, while his ship, the _Half Moon_,
was lying at anchor.

Now we come to the picturesque and the beautiful, subjects fit for the
camera of the photographer, the pencil of the artist, and the pen of the
historian. On the western side of the Hudson, above Hoboken, we catch
the first glimpse of that singular and picturesque natural river wall
called the "Palisades," a series of bold and lofty escarpments,
extending for about thirty-five miles up the river, and varying in an
almost perpendicular height from four to over six hundred feet, portions
of them presenting a very similar appearance to Honister Craig, facing
the Vale of Buttermere and Salisbury Craigs, near Edinburgh.

About two and a half miles above Manhattan Island, on the east bank of
the Hudson, I noticed a castellated building of considerable
pretensions, but somewhat resembling one of those stage scenes of
Dunsinane in _Macbeth_, or the Castle of Ravenswood in the _Bride of
Lammermoor_. On enquiring to whom this fortified-looking residence
belonged, I was told it was Fort Hill, the retreat of Edwin Forest, the
celebrated American tragedian. It is built of blue granite, and must
have been a costly fancy.

Now we come to the pretty village of Yonkers, where there are plenty of
subjects for the camera, on Sawmill River, and the hills behind the
village. Here, off Yonkers, in 1609, Henry Hudson came to the premature
conclusion, from the strong tidal current, that he had discovered the
north-west passage, which was the primary object of his voyage, and
which led to the discovery of the river which now bears his name.

At Dobb's Ferry there is not much to our liking; but passing that, and
before reaching Tarrytown, we are within the charming atmosphere of
Sunnyside, where Washington Irving lived and wrote many of his
delightful works. Tarrytown is the next place we make, and here, during
the war for independence, the enthusiastic but unfortunate soldier,
Major André, was captured; and at Tappan, nearly opposite, he was hung
as a spy on the 2nd of October, 1780.

All the world knows the unfortunate connection between Benedict Arnold,
the American traitor, and Major André, the frank, gallant, and
enterprising British officer; so I shall leave those subjects to the
students of history, and pass on as fast as our boat will carry us to
the next place of note on the east bank of the river, Sing Sing, which
is the New York State prison, where the refractory and not over honest
members of State society are sent to be "operated" upon by the salutary
treatment of confinement and employment. Some of them are "doing time"
in _dark rooms_, which are very unsuitable for photographic operations,
and where _a little more light_, no matter how yellow or non-actinic,
would be gladly received. The "silent cell" system is not practised so
much in this State as in some of the others; but the authorities do
their best to _improve the negative_ or refractory character of the
_subjects_ placed under their care. It is, however, very questionable
whether their efforts are not entirely _negatived_, and the bad
character of the subject more _fully developed_ and _intensified_ by
contact with the more powerful _reducing agents_ by which they are
surrounded. Their prison is, however, very pleasantly situated on the
banks of the Hudson, about thirty-three miles above New York City.

Opposite Sing Sing is Rockland Lake, one hundred and fifty feet above
the river, at the back of the Palisades. This lake is celebrated for
three things--leeches and water lilies in summer, and ice in winter.
Rockland Lake ice is prized by the thirsty denizens of New York City in
the sultry summer months, and even in this country it is becoming known
as a cooler and "refresher."

Nearly opposite Sing Sing is the boldest and highest buttress of the
Palisades; it is called "Vexatious Point," and stands six hundred and
sixty feet above the water.

About eleven miles above Sing Sing we come to Peekskill, which is at the
foot of the Peekskill Mountains. Backed up by those picturesque hills it
has a pretty appearance from the river. This was also a very important
place during the wars. At this point the Americans set fire to a small
fleet rather than let it fall into the hands of the British.

A little higher up on the west side is the important military station of
West Point. This place, as well as being most charmingly situated, is
also famous as the great military training school of the United States.
Probably you have noticed, in reading the accounts of the war now raging
between North and South, that this or that general or officer was a
"West Point man." General George M'Clellan received his military
education at West Point; but, whatever military knowledge he gained at
this college, strengthened by experience and observation at the Crimea,
he was not allowed to make much use of while he held command of the army
of the Potomac. His great opponent, General Lee, was also a "West Point
man," and it does not require much consideration to determine which of
the "Pointsmen" was the smarter. Washington has also made West Point
famous in the time of the war for independence. Benedict Arnold held
command of this point and other places in the neighbourhood, when he
made overtures to Sir Henry Clinton to hand over to the British, for a
pecuniary consideration of £10,000, West Point and all its outposts.

A little higher up is Cold Spring, on the east side of the Hudson; but
we will pass that by, and now we are off Newburg on the west bank. This
is a large and flourishing town also at the foot of high hills--indeed,
we are now in the highlands of the Hudson, and it would be difficult to
find a town or a village that is not _backed up_ by hills. At the time I
first visited these scenes there was a large photographic apparatus
manufactory at Newburg, where they made "coating boxes," "buff wheels,"
"Pecks blocks," &c., on a very extensive scale, for the benefit of
themselves and all who were interested in the "cleaning," "buffing," and
"coating" of Daguerreotype plates.

Opposite Newburg is Fishkill; but we shall pass rapidly up past
Poughkeepsie on the right, and other places right and left, until we
come to Hudson, on the east side of the river. Opposite Hudson are the
Catskill Mountains, and here the river is hemmed in by mountains on all
sides, resembling the head of Ullswater lake, or the head of Loch Lomond
or Loch Katrine; and here we have a photographic curiosity to descant
upon.

Down through the gorges of these mountains came a blast like the sound
from a brazen trumpet, which electrified the photographers of the day.
Among these hills resided the Rev. Levi Hill, who lately died in New
York, the so-called inventor or discoverer of the Hillotype, or
Daguerreotypes in natural colours. So much were the "Daguerreans" of New
York startled by the announcement of this wonderful discovery, that they
formed themselves into a sort of company to buy up the _highly coloured_
invention. A deputation of some of the most respectable and influential
Daguerreotypists of New York was appointed to wait upon the reverend
discoverer, and offer him I don't remember how many thousand dollars for
his discovery as it stood; and it is said that he showed them specimens
of "coloured Daguerreotypes,"--but refused to sell or impart to them the
secret until he had completed his discovery, and made it perfect by
working out the mode of producing the only lacking colour, chrome
yellow. But in that he never succeeded, and so this wonderful discovery
was neither given nor sold to the world. Many believed the truth of the
man's statements--whether he believed it himself or not, God only knows.
One skilful Daguerreotypist, in the State of New York, assured me he had
seen the specimens, and had seen the rev. gentleman at work in his
laboratory labouring and "buffing" away at a mass of something like a
piece of lava, until by dint of hard rubbing and scrubbing the colours
were said to "appear like spirits," one by one, until all but the
stubborn chrome yellow showed themselves on the surface. I could not
help laughing at my friend's statement and evident credulity, but after
seeing "jumping Quakers," disciples of Joe Smith, and believers in the
doctrine of Johanna Southcote, I could not be much surprised at any
creed either in art or religion, or that men should fall into error in
the Hillotype faith as easily as into errors of ethics or morality. I
was assured by my friend (not my travelling companion) that they were
beautiful specimens of colouring. Granted; but that did not prove that
they were not done by hand. Indeed, a suspicion got abroad that the
specimens shown by Mr. Hill were _hand-coloured_ pictures brought from
Europe. And from all that I could learn they were more like the
beautifully coloured Daguerreotypes of M. Mansion, who was then
colourist to Mr. Beard, than anything else I could see or hear of. Being
no mean hand myself at colouring a Daguerreotype in those days, I was
most anxious to see one of those wonderful specimens of "photography in
natural colours," but I never could; and the inventor lived in such an
out-of-the way place, among the Catskills, that I had no opportunity of
paying him a visit. I have every reason to believe that the
hand-coloured pictures by M. Mansion and myself were the only Hillotypes
that were ever exhibited in America. Many of my coloured Daguerreotypes
were exhibited at the State Fair in Castle Garden, and at the Great
Exhibition at New York in 1853. But perhaps the late Rev. Levi Hill was
desirous of securing a posthumous fame, and may have left something
behind him after all; for surely, no man in his senses would have made
such a noise about Daguerreotypes in "natural colours" as he did if he
had not some reason for doing so. If so, and if he has left anything
behind him that will lead us into nature's hidden mine of natural
colours, now is the time for the "heirs and administrators" of the
deceased gentlemen to secure for their deceased relative a fame as
enduring as the Catskill Mountains themselves.

The Katzbergs, as the Dutch called the Catskill Mountains, on account of
the number of wild cats they found among them, have more than a
photographic interest. The late Washington Irving has imparted to them
an attraction of a romantic character almost as bewitching as that
conferred upon the mountains in the vicinity of Loch Lomond and Loch
Katrine by Sir Walter Scott. It is true that the delicate fancy of
Irving has not peopled the Katzbergs with such "warriors true" as stood

    "Along Benledi's living side;"

nor has he "sped the fiery cross" over "dale, glen, and valley;" neither
has he tracked

    "The antler'd monarch of the waste"

from hill to hill; but the war-whoop of the Mohegans has startled the
wild beasts from their lair, and the tawny hunters of the tribe have
followed up the trail of the panther until with bow and arrow swift they
have slain him in his mountain hiding place. And Irving's quaint fancy
has re-peopled the mountains again with the phantom figures of Hendrick
Hudson and his crew, and put Rip van Winkle to sleep, like a big baby,
in one of nature's huge cradles, where he slept for _twenty years_, and
slept away the reign of good King George III. over the colonies, and
awoke to find himself a bewildered citizen of the United States of
America. And the place where he slept, and the place where he saw the
solemn, silent crew of the "Half Moon" playing at ninepins, will be
sought for and pointed out in all time coming. And why should these
scenes of natural beauty and charming romance not be photographed on the
spot? It has not been done to my knowledge, yet they are well worthy the
attention of photographers, either amateur or professional. We leave the
Catskill Mountains with some regret, because of the disappointment of
their not yielding us the promised triumph of chemistry, "photography in
natural colours," and because of their beauty and varying effects of
_chiaroscuro_ not having been sufficiently rendered in the monochromes
we have so long had an opportunity of obtaining in the camera.

Passing Coxsackie, on the west bank of the Hudson, and many pleasant
residences and places on each side of the river, we are soon at Albany,
the capital of the State of New York, and the termination of our voyage
on board the _Isaac Newton_. And well had our splendid steamer performed
her part of the contract. Here we were, in ten hours, at Albany, 144
miles from New York City. What a contrast, in the rate of speed, between
the _Isaac Newton_ and the first boat that steamed up the Hudson! The
_Claremont_ took over thirty-six hours, wind and weather permitting, to
perform the voyage between New York and Albany; and we had done it in
ten. What a contrast, too, in the size, style, and deportment of the
two boats! The _Claremont_ was a little, panting, puffing, half-clad,
always-out-of-breath sort of thing, that splashed and struggled
and groaned through the water, and threw its naked and diminutive
paddle-wheels in and out of the river--like a man that can neither
swim nor is willing to be drowned, throwing his arms in and out of the
water in agony--and only reached her destination after a number of
stoppings-to-breathe and spasmodic start-agains. The _Isaac Newton_
had glided swiftly and smoothly through the waters of the Hudson, her
gigantic paddle-wheels performing as many revolutions in a minute as
the other's did in twenty.

But these were the advanced strides and improvements brought about by
the workings and experiences of half a century. If the marine steam
engine be such a wonderfully-improved machine in that period of time,
what may not photography be when the art-science is fifty years old?
What have not the thousands of active brains devoted to its advancement
done for it already? What have not been the improvements and wonderful
workings of photography in a quarter of a century? What improvements
have not been effected in the lifetime of any old Daguerreotypist?
When I first knew photography it was a ghostly thing--a shimmering
phantom--that was flashed in and out of your eyes with the rapidity of
lightning, as you tried to catch a sight of the image between the total
darkness of the black polish of the silvered plate, and the blinding
light of the sky, which was reflected as from a mirror into your eyes.

But how these phantom figures vanished! How rapidly they changed from
ghostly and almost invisible shadows to solid, visible, and all but
tangible forms under the magical influence of Goddard's and Claudet's
"bromine accelerator," and Fizeau's "fixing" or gilding process! How
Mercury flew to the lovely and joint creations of chemistry and optics,
and took kindly to the timid, hiding beauties of Iodine, Bromine,
Silver, and Light, and brought them out, and showed them to the world,
proudly, as "things of beauty," and "a joy for ever!" How Mercury clung
to these latent beauties, and "developed" their charms, and became
"attached" to them, and almost immovable; and consented, at last, to be
tinted like a Gibson's Venus to enhance the charms and witcheries of his
protégés! Anon was Mercury driven from Beauty's fair domain, and bright
shining Silver, in another form, took up with two fuming, puffy fellows,
who styled themselves Ether and Alcohol, with a villainous taint of
methyl and something very much akin to gunpowder running through their
veins. A most abominable compound they were, and some of the vilest of
the vile were among their progeny; indeed, they were all a "hard lot,"
for I don't know how many rods--I may say tons--of iron had to be used
before they could be brought into the civilized world at all. But,
happily, they had a short life. Now they have almost passed away from
off the face of the earth, and it is to be hoped that the place that
knew them once will know them no more; for they were a dangerous
set--fragile in substance, frightful abortions, and an incubus on the
fair fame of photography. They bathed in the foulest of baths, and what
served for one served for all. The poisonous and disgusting fluid was
used over and over again. Loathsome and pestiferous vapours hovered
about them, and they took up their abode in the back slums of our
cities, and herded with the multitude, and a vast majority of them were
not worth the consideration of the most callous officer of the sanitary
commission. Everything that breathes the breath of life has its moments
of agony, and these were the throes that agonised Photography in that
fell epoch of her history.

From the ashes of this burning shame Photography arose, Phoenix-like,
and with Silver, seven times purified, took her ethereal form into the
hearts and _ateliers_ of artists, who welcomed her sunny presence in
their abodes of refinement and taste. They treated her kindly and
considerately, and lovingly placed her in her proper sphere; and, by
their kind and delicate treatment, made her forget the miseries of her
degradation and the agonies of her travail. Then art aided photography
and photography aided art, and the happy, delightful reciprocity has
brought down showers of golden rain amidst the sunshine of prosperity to
thousands who follow with love and devotion the chastened and purified
form of Photography, accompanied in all her thoughts and doings by her
elder sister--Art.

I must apologise for this seeming digression. However, as I have not
entirely abandoned my photographic impressions, I take it for granted
that I have not presumed too much on the good nature of my readers, and
will now endeavour to further develop and redevelop the Hudson, and
point out the many phases of beauty that are fit subjects for the camera
which may be seen on the waters and highland boundaries of that
beautiful river in all seasons of the year.

Albany is the capital of the State. It is a large and flourishing city,
and one of the oldest, being an early Dutch settlement, which is
sufficiently attested by the prevalence of such cognomens as
"Vanderdonck" and "Onderdunk" over the doors of the traders.

About six or eight miles above Albany the Hudson ceases to be navigable
for steamers and sailing craft, and the influence of the tide becomes
imperceptible. Troy is on the east bank of the river; and about two
miles above, the Mohawk River joins the Hudson, coming down from the
Western part of the State of New York. For about two hundred miles the
Hudson runs almost due north and south from a little below Fort Edward;
but, from the Adirondack Mountains, where it takes its spring, it comes
down in a north-westerly direction by rushing rapids, cascades, and
falls innumerable for about two hundred miles more through some of the
wildest country that can possibly be imagined.

We did not proceed up the Upper Hudson, but I was told it would well
repay a trip with the camera, as some of the wildest and most
picturesque scenery would be found in tracking the Hudson to its source
among the Adirondack Mountains.

I afterwards sailed up and down the navigable part of the Hudson many
times and at all periods of the year, except when it was ice-bound, by
daylight and by moonlight, and a more beautiful moonlight sail cannot
possibly be conceived. To be sailing up under the shadow of the
Palisades on a bright moonlight night, and see the eastern shore and
bays bathed in the magnesium-like light of a bright western moon, is in
itself enough to inspire the most ordinary mind with a love of all that
is beautiful and poetical in nature.

Moonlight excursions are frequently made from New York to various points
on the Hudson, and Sleepy Hollow is one of the most favourite trips. I
have been in that neighbourhood, but never saw the "headless horseman"
that was said to haunt the place; but that may be accounted for by the
circumstance of some superior officer having recently commanded the
trooper without a head to do duty in Texas.

My next trip up the Hudson was in winter, when the surface of the river
was in the state of "glacial," solid at 50° for two or three feet down,
but the temperature was considerably lower, frequently 15° and 20° below
zero--and that was nipping cold "and no mistake," making the very breath
"glacial," plugging up the nostrils with "chunks" of ice, and binding
the beard and moustache together, making a glacier on your face, which
you had to break through every now and then to make a breathing hole.

On this arctic trip the whole aspect of the river and its boundaries is
marvellously changed, without losing any of its picturesque attractions.
Instead of the clear, deep river having its glassy surface broken by the
splash of paddle-wheels, it is converted into a solid highway. Instead
of the sound of the "pilot's gong," and the cries of "a sail on the port
bow," there is nothing to be heard but the jingling sound of the sleigh
bells, and the merry laugh and prattle of the fair occupants of the
sleighs, as they skim past on the smooth surface of the ice, wrapped
cosily up in their gay buffalo robes.

The great excitement of winter in Canada or the States is to take a
sleigh ride; and I think there is nothing more delightful, when the wind
is still, than to skim along the ice in the bright, winter sunshine,
behind a pair of spanking "trotters." The horses seem to enjoy it as
much as the people, arching their necks a little more proudly than
usual, and stepping lightly to the merry sound of the sleigh bells.

At this time of the year large sleighs, holding fifteen to twenty
people, and drawn by four horses, take the place of steamers, omnibuses,
and ferry boats. The steam ferries are housed, except at New York, and
there they keep grinding their way through the ice "all winter," as if
they would not let winter reign over their destinies if they could help
it. Large sleighs cross and recross on the ice higher up the Hudson, and
thus keep up the connection between the various points and opposite
shores. As the mercury falls the spirits of the people seem to rise, and
they shout and halloo at each other as they pass or race on the ice.
These are animated scenes for the skill of a Blanchard or any other
artist equally good in the production of instantaneous photographs.

Another of the scenes on the Hudson worthy of the camera is "ploughing
the ice." It is a singular sight to an Englishman to see a man driving a
team of horses on the ice, and see the white powder rising before the
ice-plough like spray from the prow of a vessel as she rushes through
the water, cutting the ice into blocks or squares, to stow away in
"chunks," and afterwards, when the hot sultry weather of July and August
is prostrating you, have them brought out to make those wonderful
mixtures called "ice-creams," "sherry-cobblers," and "brandy-cocktails."

The Hudson is beautiful in winter as well as in summer, and I wonder its
various and picturesque beauties have not been photographed more
abundantly. But there it is. Prophets are never honoured in their own
country, and artists and photographers never see the beauties of their
country at home. I am sure if the Hudson were photographed from the sea
to its source it would be one of the most valuable, interesting, and
picturesque series of photographs that ever was published. Its aspects
in summer are lovely and charming, and the wet process can then be
employed with success. And in winter, though the temperature is low, the
river is perfectly dry on the surface, the hills and trees are
glistening with snow and icicles, the people are on the very happiest
terms with one another, and frequently exhibit an abundance of dry, good
humour. This is the time to work the "dry process" most successfully,
and, instead of the "ammonia developers," try the "hot and strong" ones.

With these few hints to my photographic friends, I leave the beauties of
the Hudson to their kind consideration.--_British Journal of
Photography_, 1865.


PICTURES OF THE POTOMAC IN PEACE AND WAR.

When first I visited that lovely region which has so recently been torn
and trampled down--blackened and defaced by the ruthlessness of
war--peace lay in the valleys of the Potomac. Nothing was borne on the
calm, clear bosom of the broad and listless river but the produce of the
rich and smiling valleys of Virginia. Its banks were peaceful, silent,
and beautiful. The peach orchards were white with the blossoms that
promised a rich harvest of their delicious fruit. The neat and pretty
houses that studded the sloping boundaries of the river were almost
blinding with their dazzling whiteness as the full blaze of the sun fell
upon them. Their inhabitants were happy, and dreamt not of the storm so
soon to overtake them. The forts were occupied by only a few, very few
soldiers. The guns were laid aside, all rusty and uncared for; and
pilgrims to the tomb of Washington, the good and great, stopped on their
return at Fort Washington to examine the fortifications in idleness and
peaceful curiosity. The Capitol at Washington echoed nothing but the
sounds of peace and good will. The senators of both North and South sat
in council together, and considered only the welfare and prosperity of
their great confederation.

The same harmonious fellowship influenced the appearance and actions of
all; and at that happy conjuncture I made my first acquaintance with
Washington, the capital of the United States. I shall not attempt a
description of its geographical position: everybody knows that it is in
the district of Columbia, and on the banks of the Potomac. It is a city
of vast and pretentious appearance, straggling over an unnecessary
amount of ground, and is divided into avenues and streets. The avenues
are named after the principal States, and take their spring from the
Capitol, running off in all directions in angular form, like the spokes
of a wheel, the Capitol being the "angular point." The streets running
between and across the avenues rejoice in the euphonious names of First,
Second, and Third, and A, B, and C streets, the straight lines of which
are broken by trees of the most luxurious growth all along the
side-walks. These trees form a delightful sun-shade in summer, and have
a very novel and pleasing effect at night, when their green and leafy
arches are illuminated by the gas lamps underneath.

Excepting the Capitol, White House, Court House, Post Office, Patent
Office, and Smithsonian Institute, there is nothing in the city of
photographic interest. The "United States," the "National," and
"Willards," are large and commodious hotels on Pennsylvania Avenue; but
not worth a plate, photographically speaking, unless the landlords wish
to illustrate their bar bills. The Capitol is out of all proportion the
largest and most imposing structure in Washington--it may safely be said
in the United States. Situated on an elevated site, at the top of
Pennsylvania Avenue, it forms a grand termination to that noble
thoroughfare at its eastern extremity. The building consists of a grand
centre of freestone painted white, surmounted by a vast dome of
beautiful proportions. Two large wings of white marble complete the
grand façade. Ascending the noble flight of marble steps to the
principal entrance, the great portico is reached, which is supported by
about eighteen Corinthian columns. The pediment is ornamented with a
statue of America in the centre, with the figures of Faith on her left,
and Justice on her right. On each side of the entrance is a group of
statuary. On one side an Indian savage is about to massacre a mother and
her child, but his arm is arrested by the figure of Civilization. On the
other side the group consists of a man holding up a globe, representing
Columbus and the figure of an Indian girl looking up to it.

The large rotunda, immediately underneath the dome, is divided into
panels, which are filled with paintings, such as the "Landing of the
Pilgrim Fathers," "The Baptism of the Indian Princess Pocahontas," and
other subjects illustrative of American history. On either side of the
Rotunda are passages leading to the House of Representatives on the one
side, and the Senate Chamber on the other. Congress being assembled, I
looked in to see the collective wisdom of the "States" during a morning
sitting. In many respects the House of Representatives very much
resembled our own House of Commons. There was a Mr. Speaker in the
chair, and one gentleman had "the floor," and was addressing the House.
Other members were seated in their desk seats, making notes, or busying
themselves with their own bills. In one essential point, however, I
found a difference, and that was in the ease of access to this assembly.
No "member's order" was required. Strangers and "citizens" are at all
times freely admitted. There is also a magnificent library, which is
free to everyone.

During the Session there is Divine service in the Senate Chamber on
Sunday mornings. On one occasion I attended, and heard a most excellent
discourse by the appointed chaplain. The President and his family were
there.

In some side offices, connected with the Capitol, I found a government
photographer at work, copying plans, and photographing portions of the
unfinished building, for the benefit of the architects and others whose
duty it was to examine the progress of the works. From this gentleman I
received much courteous attention, and was shown many large and
excellent negatives, all of which were developed with the ordinary iron
developer.

I next visited the Patent Office, and the museum connected therewith,
which contains a vast collection of models of all kinds of inventions
that have received protection--among them several things, in apparatus
and implements, connected with photography. The American patent laws
require a model of every new invention to be lodged in this museum,
which is of immense value to inventors and intending patentees; for
they can there see what has already been protected; and as the Patent
Office refuses to grant protection to anything of a similar form, use,
or application, much litigation, expense, and annoyance are saved the
patentees. Our Government would do well to take a leaf out of "Brother
Jonathan's" book on this subject; for not only is there increased
protection given to inventors, but the fees are considerably less than
in this country.

The presidential residence, called the White House, was the next
interesting subject of observation. It is situated at the west end of
Pennsylvania Avenue, and a good mile from the Capitol. The building is
of white marble, and of very unpretending size and architectural
attractions, but in every respect sufficient for the simple wants of the
chief magistrate of the United States, whose official salary is only
twenty-five thousand dollars per annum.

During congressional session the President holds weekly _levées_; and
one of these I determined to attend, prompted as much by curiosity to
see how such things were done, as desire to pay my respects.
Accordingly, on a certain night, at eight o'clock precisely, I went to
the White House, and was admitted without hesitation. On reaching the
door of the reception room, I gave my card to the district marshal, who
conducted me to President Pierce, to whom I was introduced. I was
received with a hearty welcome, and a shake of the hand. Indeed, I
noticed that he had a kindly word of greeting for all who came. Not
having any very important communication to make that would be either
startling or interesting to the President of the United States, I bowed,
and retired to the promenade room, where I found numbers of people who
had been "presented" walking about and chatting in groups on all sorts
of subjects--political, foreign, and domestic, and anything they liked.
Some were in evening dress, others not; but all seemed perfectly easy
and affable one with another. There was no restraint, and the only
passport required to these _levées_ was decent behaviour and
respectability. There was music also. A band was playing in the
vestibule, and everyone evidently enjoyed the _reunion_, and felt
perfectly at home. Never having been presented at court, I am not able
to make any comparison _pro_ or _con_.

There is also an observatory at Washington, which I visited;
but not being fortunate enough to meet the--what shall I say?
"astronomer-royal," comes readiest, but that is not correct: well,
then, the--"astronomer republic," I did not see the large telescope
and other astronomical instruments worked.

The photographic galleries were all situated on Pennsylvania Avenue, and
they were numerous enough. At that time they rejoiced in the name of
"Daguerrean Galleries;" and the proprietor, or operator, was called a
"Daguerrean." Their reception rooms were designated "saloons," which
were invariably well furnished--some of them superbly--and filled with
specimens. Their "studios" and workshops behind the scenes were fitted
with all sorts of ingenious contrivances for "buffing" and "coating" and
expediting the work. Although the greatest number of mechanical
appliances were employed in the Daguerreotype branch of photography, art
was not altogether ignored in its practice. One house made a business
feature of very beautifully coloured Daguerreotypes, tinted with dry
colours, quite equal to those done in Europe. Another house made a
feature of "Daguerreotypes painted in oil;" and the likeness was most
admirably preserved. I saw one of the President, and several of the
members of Congress, which I knew to be unmistakable portraits. Although
the Daguerreotype was most tenaciously adhered to as the best means of
producing photographic portraits, the collodion process--or the
"crystaltype," as they then called it--was not neglected. It was used by
a few for portraits, but chiefly for views.

Having seen all that was worth seeing in the city, I made excursions
into the country, in search of subjects for the camera or pencil.

Georgetown, a little way from Washington, and its picturesque cemetery,
offer several pretty bits for the camera. Arlington Heights, the Long
Bridge, and many nooks about there, are sufficiently tempting; but of
all the excursions about Washington, Mount Vernon--a few miles down the
Potomac, on the Virginia side--is by far the most interesting. Mount
Vernon is the name of the place where General George Washington lived
and died, and is the "Mecca" of the Americans. Nearly every day there
are pilgrims from some or all parts of the States to the tomb of
Washington, which is in the grounds of Mount Vernon. They visit this
place with a kind of religious awe and veneration, and come from far and
wide to say they have seen it. For, in truth, there is little to see but
the strangest-looking and ugliest brick building I ever beheld, with
open iron gates that allow you to look into the darkness of the
interior, and see nothing. I took a view of the tomb, and here it is:--A
red brick building, squat and low, of the most unsightly design and
proportions imaginable--resembling one of our country "deadhouses" more
than anything else I could compare it to. It was stuck away from the
house among trees and brushwood, and in an advanced state of
dilapidation--a disgrace to the nation that had sprung from that great
man's honest devotion! Over the Gothic entrance is a white slab, with
the following inscription on it:--

   "Within this Enclosure
           Rest
      the remains of
  General George Washington."

The remains of "Lady Washington" lie there also; and there are several
white obelisks about to the memory of other members of the family.

The house itself is a "frame building" of two storeys, with a piazza
running along the front of it, and is on the whole a mean-looking
edifice; but was probably grand enough for the simple tastes of the man
who dwelt in it, and has hallowed the place with the greatness and
goodness of his life. The interior of the house looked as if it had once
been a comfortable and cozy habitation. In the hall was put up a desk,
with a "visitors' book," wherein they were expected to enter their
names; and few failed to pay such a cheap tribute to the memory of the
father of their country.

The grounds, which were full of natural beauties, had been allowed to
run into a state of wild tangle-wood; and I had some trouble to pick my
way over broken paths down to the riverside again, where I took the
"boat," and returned to the city, touching at Fort Washington on the
way. The day had been remarkably fine; the evening was calm and lovely;
the silence of the river disturbed only by the splash of our paddles,
and the song of the fishermen on shore as they drew in their laden nets;
and the moon shone as only she can shine in those latitudes. Nothing
could denote more peace and quietude as I sailed on the Potomac on that
lovely evening. There was such a perfect lull of the natural
elements--such a happy combination of all that was beautiful and
promising--it seemed impossible for such a hurricane of men's
passions--such yells of strife and shouts of victory, such a swoop of
death as afterwards rushed down those valleys--ever to come to pass.

Such sad reverse was, however, seen on my second visit to the Potomac.
The narration of the stirring scenes then presented will form a picture
less peaceful and happy, but unfortunately intensely real and painfully
true.

My second visit to the Potomac was paid after the lapse of several
years, and under very different circumstances. When the Capitol echoed
loudly the fierce and deadly sentiments of the men of the North against
the men of the South. When both had shouted--

  "Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war
   Plead for our int'rest."

When the deliberations of the senators were "war estimates," arming of
troops, and hurrying them to the "front" with all possible despatch.
When the city of Washington presented all the appearance of a place
threatened with a siege. When every unoccupied building was turned into
barracks, and every piece of unoccupied land was made a "camp ground."
When the inhabitants were in terror and dismay, dreading the approach of
an invading host. When hasty earth-works were thrown up in front of the
city, and the heights were bristling with cannon. When the woods and
peach orchards on the opposite side of the Potomac were red with the
glare of the camp fires at night, and the flashing of bayonets was
almost blinding in the hot sun at noon. When the vessels sailing on the
river were laden with armed men, shot, shell, and "villainous
saltpetre." When the incessant roll of drums and rattle of musketry
deadened almost every other sound. When sentinels guarded every road and
access to the capital, and passports were required from the military
authorities to enable you to move from one place to another. In short,
when the whole atmosphere was filled with sounds of martial strife, and
everything took the form of desolating war.

In spite of all these untoward events, I found photography actively
engaged in the city, in the camp, and on the field, fulfilling a mission
of mercy and consolation in the midst of carnage and tumult--fulfilling
such a mission of holy work as never before fell to the lot of any art
or art-science to perform. For what aspect of life is photography not
called upon to witness?--what phase of this world's weal or woe is
photography not required to depict? Photography has become a handmaiden
to the present generation--a ministering angel to all conditions of
life, from the cradle to the grave. An _aide-de-camp_ of the loveliest
character to the great "light of the world," humanizing and elevating
the minds of all, administering consolation to the sorrowing, increasing
the joy of the joyous, lessening the pangs of separation caused by
distance or death, strengthening the ties of immediate fellowship,
helping the world to know its benefactors, and the world's benefactors
to know the world. When grim death stalks into the gilded palaces of the
great and powerful, or into the thatched cottages and miserable
dwellings of the poor, photography is the assuager of the griefs of the
sorrowing survivors, and the ameliorator of their miseries, by
preserving to them so faithful a resemblance of the lost one. When the
bride, in her youth and loveliness, is attired for the bridal,
photography is the recorder of her trustful looks and April smiles, the
fashion of her dress, the wreath and jewels that she wore; and, come
what change in her appearance that may, the husband can look upon his
bride whene'er he likes in after years, as vividly and as distinctly as
on that day, connecting the present with the past with a kind of running
chord of happy recollections. Photography is now the historian of earth
and animated nature, the biographer of man, the registrar of his growth
from childhood to "man's estate," the delineator of his physical, moral,
and social progress, the book of fashion, and the mirror of the times.
The uses and applications of photography are almost indescribable;
scarcely an art, or a science, or a trade or profession that does not
enlist photography into its service. Photography does not merely pander
to the gratification of earthly vanity, but is an alleviator of human
misery. Photography enters our hospitals and registers faithfully the
progress of disease, its growth and change from day to day, until it is
cured, or ripe for the knife of the surgeon; its pictures are lessons to
the professor, and a book of study for the students, charts for their
guidance through the painful and tedious cases of others similarly
afflicted, teaching them what to do and what to avoid, to relieve the
suffering of other patients. Photography is dragged into our criminal
law courts, and sits on the right hand of Justice, giving evidence of
the most undeniable character, without being under oath, and free from
the suspicion of perjury, convicting murderers and felons, and
acquitting the innocent without prejudice; and in our courts of equity,
cases are frequently decided by the truth-telling evidence of
photography.

Astronomers, geographers, and electricians freely acknowledge how much
they are indebted to photography in making their celestial and
terrestrial observations. Engineers, civil and military, employ
photography largely in their plans and studies. Art, also, has recourse
to photography, and is the only one of the liberal professions that is
half ashamed to admit the aid it gains from the camera. If art admits it
at all, it is done grudgingly, apologetically, and thanklessly. But
there it is the old, old story of family quarrels and family jealousies.
Old art might be likened to an old aunt that has grown withered and
wrinkled, and peevish with disappointment, who, in spite of all her
long-studied rules and principles of light and shade, harmony of colour,
painting, "glazing," and "scumbling," has failed to win the first
prize--that prize which a woman's ambition pants after from the moment
she enters her teens until her dream is realized--that living model,
moulded after God's own image, which, not having won in her mature age,
she becomes jealous of the growing graces, the fresh and rollicking
charms, the unstudied and ingenuous truthfulness of form exhibited by
her niece. Old Art the aunt, Photography the niece. Readers, draw the
moral for yourselves.

I have digressed, but could not help it. Photography is so young and
lovely, so bewitchingly beautiful in all her moods, so fascinating and
enslaving--and she has enslaved thousands since she first sprung from
the source that gives her life. But to return to my theme.

The practice of photography, like the aspects of the country and
condition of the people, was changed. "Old things had passed away, and
all things had become new." The shining silver plates, buffing wheels,
coating boxes, mercury pans, &c., of the old dispensation had given
place to the baths, nitrate of silver solutions, and iron developers of
the new. Ambrotypes, or glass positives, and photographs on paper, had
taken the place of the now antiquated Daguerreotype. Mammoth photographs
were the ambition of all photographers. The first full-length life-sized
photograph I ever saw was in Washington, and was the work of Mr.
Gardner, the manager of Mr. Brady's gallery. But a more republican idea
of photography, which, strange to say, originated in an empire not
remarkable for freedom of thought, soon became the dominant power.
Cartes-de-visite, the many, ruled over mammoth, the few. The price of
mammoth photographs was beyond the reach of millions, but the prices of
cartes-de-visite were within the grasp of all; and that, combined with
their convenient size and prettiness of form, made them at once popular,
and created a mania.

The carte-de-visite form of picture became the "rage" in America about
the time the civil war commenced, and as the young soldiers were proud
of their new uniforms, and those who had been "in action" were prouder
still of their stains and scars, the photographers did a good business
among them, both in the city and in the camp. I saw a little of this
"camp work" and "camp life" myself, and some of the havoc of war as
well. Photographers are adventurous, and frequently getting into odd
kinds of "positions," as well as their "sitters."

It was my destiny, under the guidance of the Great Source of Light, to
witness the results of the first great conflict between the opposing
armies of the Federals and Confederates; to hear the thunder of their
artillery, and see the clouds of smoke hovering over the battle field,
without being in the battle itself. To see the rout and panic of the
Northern troops, who had so recently marched proudly on to fancied
victory; to witness the disgraceful and disastrous stampede of the
Northern army from the field of Bull Run; to listen to the agonized
groans of the "severely wounded" as they were hurried past to the
temporary hospitals in Washington and Georgetown; to be an eye-witness
to the demoralized condition of men who, naturally brave, were under the
influence of a panic caused by the vague apprehension of a danger that
did not exist; to hear the citizens exclaim, "What shall we do?" and
"For God's sake don't tell your people at home what you have seen!" and
comparing the reverse of their national arms to a "regular Waterloo
defeat," which was anything but a happy simile. To see the
panic-stricken men themselves, when they discovered their error, and
began to realize their shame, weeping like women at the folly they had
committed. But they atoned for all this, afterwards, by deeds of
glorious valour which were never surpassed, and which ended in restoring
their country to peace and reunion.

The 21st of July, 1861, was a Sunday, and as calm and beautiful a day as
could be wished for. From its associations it ought to have been a day
of rest and peace to all; but it was not. There was terrible slaughter
among men that Sunday in Virginia. During the morning, I took advantage
of an opportunity offered me to go down to Alexandria, in Virginia,
about five or six miles below Washington, which was then occupied by a
portion of the Federal Army. Everything in the place had the appearance
of war. There were more soldiers than civilians about. Hotels were
turned into barracks and military storehouses. The hotel where Colonel
Ellsworth, of the New York Fire Zouaves, was shot by the proprietor for
hauling down the Confederate flag--which the latter had hoisted over his
house--had been taken possession of by the military authorities, and
the whole place was under martial law. It was there I first heard
rumours of a battle being fought in the neighbourhood of Manassas
Junction. These rumours were soon confirmed by the roar of cannon in the
distance, and the hurrying of fresh troops from Washington to the field
of battle. But they were not needed. Before they could reach the field
the "stampede" had commenced, and the retreating hosts came like a
rushing tide upon the advancing few, and carried them back, absorbed in
the unshapen mass of confusion.

The night came, and little was known by the inhabitants of Washington of
the rout and rush of terrified men towards the city; but the next
morning revealed the fact.

Wet and wretched was the morning after the battle. The heavens seemed to
weep over the disgrace as the men poured into the city, singly and in
groups, unofficered, and without their firearms, which many had lost, or
thrown away in their flight. The citizens gathered round them, anxious
to learn all about the defeat, and the whereabouts of the Confederate
army, and invited them into their houses to take refreshment and rest.
Several instances of this impromptu hospitality and sympathy I witnessed
myself; and many of the weary and wounded soldiers I talked to. They
that were only slightly wounded in the hands and arms had their wounds
washed and dressed by the wives and daughters of many of the residents.
The hotels were crowded, and the "bars" were besieged by the drenched
and fatigued soldiers, whom the curious and sympathizing citizens
invited to "liquor." The men all told wonderful stories of the fight and
of their own escape, but none could tell satisfactorily what had created
the panic. Some said that a few "teamsters" took the alarm, and, riding
to the rear in hot haste, conveyed the impression that an exterminating
pursuit by the Confederates had commenced.

In a day or two the majority of the men were mustered together again,
and occupied their old camping grounds, where I visited them, and heard
many of their stories, and got some of the relics of the battle field.
Fresh troops were raised, and placed under the command of another
general. But it was long before another "onward march to Richmond" was
attempted. The North had learned something of the strength and prowess
of the South, and began to prepare for a longer and fiercer struggle
with "Secession."

Such are the two pictures of the Potomac which I have endeavoured to
reproduce, and which fell under my observation during my professional
peregrinations in connection with the practice of photography.


RAMBLES AMONG THE STUDIOS OF AMERICA.


Boston.

My impressions of America, from a photographic point of observation,
were taken at two distinct periods--which I might call the two epochs of
photographic history--the dry and the wet; the first being the
Daguerreotype, and the second what may be termed the present era of
photography, which includes the processes now known and practised.

I take Boston as my starting point for several reasons. First, because
it was the first American city I visited; secondly, it was in Boston
that the change first came over photography which wrought such a
revolution in the art all over the United States; thirdly and severally,
in Boston I noticed many things in connection with photography which
differed widely from what I had known and practised in England.

Visiting the gallery of Mr. Whipple, then in Washington Street, the
busiest thoroughfare in Boston, I was struck with the very large
collection of Daguerreotype portraits there exhibited, but particularly
with a large display of Daguerreotypes of the moon in various aspects.
I had heard of Mr. Whipple's success in Daguerreotyping the moon before
I left Europe, but had no idea that so much had been achieved in lunar
photography at that early date until I saw Mr. Whipple's case of
photographs of the moon in many phases. Those Daguerreotypes were
remarkable for their sharpness and delicacy, and the many trying
conditions under which they were taken. They were all obtained at
Cambridge College under the superintendance of Professor Bond, but in
what manner I had better allow Mr. Whipple to speak for himself, by
making an extract from a letter of his, published in _The Photographic
Art Journal_ of America, July, 1853. Mr. Whipple says: "My first attempt
at Daguerreotyping the moon was with a reflecting telescope; the mirror
was five feet focus, and seven inches diameter. By putting the prepared
plate directly in the focus of the reflector, and giving it an exposure
of from three to five seconds, I obtained quite distinct impressions;
but owing to the smallness of the image, which was only about
five-eighths of an inch in diameter, and the want of clockwork to
regulate the motion of the telescope, the results were very far from
satisfactory.

"Having obtained permission of Professor Bond to use the large Cambridge
reflector for that purpose, I renewed my experiments with high hopes of
success, but soon found it no easy matter to obtain a clear,
well-defined, beautiful Daguerreotype of the moon. Nothing could be more
interesting than its appearance through that _magnificent_ instrument:
but to transfer it to the silver plate, to make something tangible of
it, was quite a different thing. The "governor," that regulates the
motion of the telescope, although sufficiently accurate for observing
purposes, was entirely unsuitable for Daguerreotyping; as when the plate
is exposed to the moon's image, if the instrument does not follow
exactly to counteract the earth's motion, even to the nicety of a
hair's breadth, the beauty of the impression is much injured, or
entirely spoiled. The governor had a tendency to move the instrument a
little too fast, then to fall slightly behind. By closely noticing its
motion, and by exposing my plates those few seconds that it exactly
followed between the accelerated and retarded motion, I might obtain one
or two perfect proofs in the trial of a dozen plates, other things being
right. But a more serious obstacle to my success was the usual state of
the atmosphere in the locality--the sea breeze, the hot and cold air
commingling, although its effects were not visible to the eye; but when
the moon was viewed through the telescope it had the same appearance as
objects when seen through the heated air from a chimney, in a constant
tremor, precluding the possibility of successful Daguerreotyping. This
state of the atmosphere often continued week after week in a greater or
less degree, so that an evening of perfect quiet was hailed with the
greatest delight. After oft-repeated failures, I finally obtained the
Daguerreotype from which the crystallotypes I send for your journal were
copies; it was taken in March, 1851. The object glass only of the
telescope was used. It is fifteen inches in diameter, and about
twenty-three feet focal length; the image it gives of the moon varies
but little from three inches, and the prepared plate had an exposure of
thirteen seconds."

Copies of several of these "crystallotypes" of the moon I afterwards
obtained and exhibited at the Photographic Exhibition in connection
with the British Association which met in Glasgow in 1855. The
"crystallotypes" were simply enlarged photographs, about eight or nine
inches in diameter, and conveyed to the mind an excellent idea of the
moon's surface. The orange-like form and the principal craters were
distinctly marked. Indeed, so much were they admired as portraits of the
moon, that one of the _savans_ bought the set at the close of the
exhibition.

Mr. Whipple is still a successful practitioner of our delightful art in
the "Athens of the Western World," and has reaped the reward of his
continuity and devotion to his favourite art. The late decision of the
American law courts on the validity of Mr. Cutting's patent for the use
of bromides in collodion must have laid Mr. Whipple under serious
liabilities, for he used bromo-iodized negative collodion for iron
development as far back as 1853.

There were many other professional photographers in the chief city of
Massachusetts; but I have described the characteristics of the principal
and oldest concerns. Doubtless there are many new ones since I visited
the city where Benjamin Franklin served his apprenticeship as a printer;
where the "colonists" in 1773, rather than pay the obnoxious "tea tax,"
pitched all the tea out of the ships into the waters of Boston Bay, and
commenced that long struggle against oppression and unjust taxation
which eventually ended in severing the North American Colonies from the
mother country. With the knowledge of all this, it is the more
surprising that they should now so quietly submit to what must be an
obnoxious and troublesome system of taxation; for, not only have
photographers to pay an annual licence of about two guineas for carrying
on their trade, but also to affix a government stamp on each picture
sent out, which is a further tax of about one penny on each. Surely the
patience of our brother photographers on the other side of the Atlantic
must be sorely tried, what with the troubles of their business, the
whims and eccentricities of their sitters, Mr. Cutting's unkind cut, and
the prowling visitations of the tax-collector.


New York.

What a wonderful place New York is for photographic galleries! Their
number is legion, and their size is mammoth. Everything is "mammoth."
Their "saloons" are mammoth. Their "skylights" are mammoth. Their
"tubes," or lenses, are mammoth. Their "boxes," or cameras, are mammoth;
and _mammoth_ is the amount of business that is done in some of those
"galleries." The "stores" of the dealers in photographic "stock" are
mammoth; and the most mammoth of all is the "store" of Messrs. E. & H.
T. Anthony, on Broadway. This establishment is one of the many palaces
of commerce on that splendid thoroughfare. The building is of iron, tall
and graceful, of the Corinthian order, with Corinthian pilasters,
pillars, and capitals. It is five storeys high, with a frontage of about
thirty feet, and a depth of two hundred feet, running right through the
"block" from Broadway to the next street on the west side of it. This is
the largest store of the kind in New York; I think I may safely say, in
either of the two continents, east or west, containing a stock of all
sorts of photographic goods, from "sixpenny slides" to "mammoth tubes,"
varying in aggregate value from one hundred and fifty thousand to two
hundred thousand dollars. The heads of the firm are most enterprising,
one taking the direction of the commercial department, and the other the
scientific and experimental. Nearly all novelties in apparatus and
photographic requisites pass through this house into the hands of our
American _confrères_ of the camera, and not unfrequently find their way
to the realms of Queen Victoria on both sides of the Atlantic.

When the carte-de-visite pictures were introduced, the oldest and
largest houses held aloof from them, and only reluctantly, and under
pressure, took hold of them at last. Why, it is difficult to say, unless
their very small size was too violent a contrast to the mammoth pictures
they were accustomed to handle. Messrs. Rockwood and Co., of Broadway,
were the first to make a great feature of the carte-de-visite in New
York. They also introduced the "Funnygraph," but the latter had a very
short life.

In the Daguerreotype days there was a "portrait factory" on Broadway,
where likenesses were turned out as fast as coining, for the small
charge of twenty-five cents a head. The arrangements for such rapid work
were very complete. I had a dollar's worth of these "factory"
portraits. At the desk I paid my money, and received four tickets, which
entitled me to as many sittings when my turn came. I was shown into a
waiting room crowded with people. The customers were seated on forms
placed round the room, sidling their way to the entrance of the
operating room, and answering the cry of "the next" in much the same
manner that people do at our public baths. I being "the next," at last
went into the operating room, where I found the operator stationed at
the camera, which he never left all day long, except occasionally to
adjust a stupid sitter. He told the next to "Sit down" and "Look thar,"
focussed, and, putting his hand into a hole in the wall which
communicated with the "coating room," he found a dark slide ready filled
with a sensitised plate, and putting it into the camera, "exposed," and
saying "That will dew," took the dark slide out of the camera, and
shoved it through another hole in the wall communicating with the
mercury or developing room. This was repeated as many times as I wanted
sittings, which he knew by the number of tickets I had given to a boy in
the room, whose duty it was to look out for "the next," and collect the
tickets. The operator had nothing to do with the preparation of the
plates, developing, fixing, or finishing of the picture. He was
responsible only for the "pose" and "time," the "developer," checking
and correcting the latter occasionally by crying out "Short" or "Long"
as the case might be. Having had my number of "sittings," I was
requested to leave the operating room by another door which opened
into a passage that led me to the "delivery desk," where, in a few
minutes, I got all my four portraits fitted up in "matt, glass, and
preserver,"--the pictures having been passed from the developing room to
the "gilding" room, thence to the "fitting room" and the "delivery
desk," where I received them. Thus they were all finished and carried
away without the camera operator ever having seen them. Three of the
four portraits were as fine Daguerreotypes as could be produced
anywhere. Ambrotypes, or "Daguerreotypes on glass" as some called them,
were afterwards produced in much the same manufacturing manner.

There were many other galleries on Broadway: Canal Street; the Bowery;
the Avenues, 1, 2, and 3; A, B, and C, Water Street; Hudson Street, by
the shipping, &c., the proprietors of which conducted their business in
the style most suited to their "location" and the class of customers
they had to deal with; but in no case was there any attempt at that "old
clothesman"--that "Petticoat Lane"--style of touting and dragging
customers in by the collar. All sorts of legitimate modes of advertising
were resorted to--flags flying out of windows and from the roofs of
houses; handsome show cases at the doors; glowing advertisements in the
newspapers, in prose and verse; circulars freely distributed among the
hotels, &c.; but none of that "have your picture taken," annoying, and
disreputable style adopted by the cheap and common establishments in
London.

Unhappily, "Sunday trading" is practised more extensively in New York
than in London. Nearly all but the most respectable galleries are open
on Sundays, and evidently do a thriving trade. The authorities
endeavoured to stop it frequently, by summoning parties and inflicting
fines, but it was no use. The fines were paid, and Sunday photography
continued.

The "glass houses" of America differ entirely from what we understand by
the name here; indeed, I never saw such a thing there, either by chance,
accident, or design--for chance has no "glass houses" in America, only
an agency; there are no accidental glass houses, and the operating rooms
built by design are not "glass houses" at all.

The majority of the houses in New York and other American cities are
built with nearly flat roofs, and many of them with lessening storeys
from front to back, resembling a flight of two or three steps. In one of
these roofs, according to circumstances, a large "skylight" is fixed,
and pitched usually at an angle of 45°, and the rooms, as a rule, are
large enough to allow the sitter to be placed anywhere within the radius
of the light, so that any effect or any view of the face can easily be
obtained.

The light is not any more actinic there than here in good weather, but
they have a very great deal more light of a good quality _all the year
round_ than we have.

The operators work generally with a highly bromized collodion, which, as
a rule, they make themselves, but not throughout. They buy the
gun-cotton of some good maker--Mr. Tomlinson, agent for Mr. Cutting,
generally supplied the best--then dissolve, iodize, and bromize to suit
their working.

Pyrogallic acid as an intensifier is very little used by the American
operators, so little that it is not kept in stock by the dealers.
Requiring some once, I had quite a hunt for it, but found some at last,
stowed away as "Not Wanted," in Messrs. Anthony's store. The general
intensifier is what they laconically call "sulph.," which is sulphuret
of potassium in a very dilute solution, either flowed over the plate, or
the plate is immersed in a dipping bath, after fixing, which is by far
the _pleasantest_ way to employ the "sulph. solution." Throwing it about
as some of them do is anything but agreeable. In such cases, "sulph."
was the first thing that saluted my olfactories on putting my head
inside one of their "dark rooms."

Up to 1860 the American photographic prints were all on plain paper, and
obtained by the ammonia nitrate of silver bath, and toned and fixed with
the hyposulphite of soda and gold. The introduction of the
cartes-de-visite forced the operators to make use of albumenized paper;
but even then they seemed determined to adhere to the ammonia process if
possible, for they commenced all sorts of experiments with that volatile
accelerator, both wet and dry, some by adding ammonia and ether to an
80-grain silver bath, others by fuming, and toning with an acetate and
gold bath, and fixing with hypo afterwards.

With the following "musings" on "wrappers" (not "spirit wrappers," nor
railway wrappers, but "carte-de-visite wrappers"), I shall conclude my
rambles among the galleries of New York. Wrappers generally afford an
excellent opportunity for ornamental display. Many of the wrappers of
our magazines are elegantly and artistically ornamented. Nearly every
pack of playing cards is done up in a beautiful wrapper. The French have
given their attention to the subject of "carte-de-visite wrappers," and
turned out a few unique patterns, which, however, never came much into
use in this country. The Americans, more alive to fanciful and tasteful
objects of ornamentation, and close imitators of the French in these
matters, have made more use of carte-de-visite wrappers than we have.
Many wrappers of an artistic and literary character are used by the
photographers in America--some with ornamental designs; some with the
address of the houses tastefully executed; others with poetical
effusions, in which the cartes-de-visite are neatly wrapped up, and
handed over to the sitter.

Surely a useful suggestion is here given, for wrappers are useful things
in their way, and, if made up tastefully, would attract attention to the
photographic establishments that issue them. Photography is so closely
allied to art that it is desirable to have everything in connection with
it of an elegant and artistic description. The plain paper
envelopes--gummed up at the ends, and difficult to get open again--are
very inartistic, and anything but suitable to envelop such pretty little
pictures as cartes-de-visite. Let photography encourage art and art
manufactures, and art will enter into a treaty of reciprocity for their
mutual advancement.--_Photographic News_, 1865.


TO DUBLIN AND BACK, WITH A GLANCE AT THE EXHIBITION.

The bell rings; a shrill shriek; puff, puff goes the engine, and we dart
away from the station at Euston Square, provided with a return ticket to
Dublin, issued by the London and North Western Railway, available for
one month, for the very reasonable charge of £3, first-class and cabin;
£2 7s. 6d. second class and cabin; or forty shillings third class and
steerage, via Holyhead. These charges include steamboat fare and
steward's fee. The Exhibition Committee have made arrangements with the
railway companies to run excursion trains once a fortnight at still
lower rates; twenty-one shillings from London to Dublin and back, and
from other places in proportion. This ticket will be good for a
fortnight, and will entitle the holder to another ticket, giving him two
admissions to the Exhibition for one shilling. With the ordinary monthly
ticket, which is issued daily, it is quite optional whether you go by
the morning or evening train; but by all means take the morning train,
so that you may pass through North Wales and the Island of Anglesea in
daylight. Passing through England by Rugby, Stafford, Crewe, and
Chester, nothing remarkable occurs during our rapid run through that
part of the country. But an "Irish Gentleman," a fellow traveller,
learning our destination, kindly volunteered to enlighten us how we
could best see Dublin and its lions in the shortest possible time, and
advised us by all "manes" not to "lave" Dublin without seeing "Faynix
Park," and taking a car drive to Howth and other places round the "Bee
of Dublin." Accordingly we agreed to take his advice; but as our primary
object in visiting Dublin is to see the Exhibition, we will first attend
to that on our arrival in the Irish capital; and if, after that, time
will permit, the extraneous lions will receive our attention. First of
all, we must describe how we got there, what we saw on the way, and what
were our impressions on entering Dublin Bay.

As we said before, nothing particular occurred during our journey
through England to excite our attention or curiosity; but on passing
into Wales--Flintshire--our attention is at once arrested by the
difference of the scenery through which we pass. Soon after leaving
Chester, we get a sight of the river Dee on our right, and continue to
run down by its side past Flint, Bagillt, Holywell, and Mostyn, then we
take a bend to the left and skirt a part of the Irish Channel past Rhyl,
Abergele, and Colwyn to Conway, with its extensive ruins of a once vast
and noble castle, through, under, and about the ruins of which the
double lines of iron rails twist and twine and sinuously encoil
themselves like a boa constrictor of civilization and demolisher of
wrecks, ruins, and vestiges of the feudal ages and semi-barbarism. Our
iron charger dashes up to the very walls of the ancient stronghold,
close past the base of a tower, and right under the hanging ruins of
another, which is in truth a "baseless fabric," but no "vision," for
there it is suspended in mid air, a fabric without a base, holding on to
its surroundings by the cohesive power of their early attachments. We
rush into the very bowels of the keep itself, snorting and puffing
defiance to the memoried sternness of the grim warriors who once held
the place against all intruders. Anyone who has not had an opportunity
before of visiting North Wales should keep a sharp look-out right and
left, and they will get a peep at most of the principal places on the
route: the Welsh mountains on the left, their summits illuminated by the
sun sinking towards the west, and the mass of them thrown into shadow in
fine contrast.

Now we are at Penmænmawr, that pretty little watering place, with its
neat-looking houses snugly nestling in the laps of the hills, and we
pass along so close to the sea, we can feel the spray from the waves as
they break on the shore.

Passing Llanfairfechan and Aber we are at Bangor, and almost immediately
afterwards make a dive into the long, dark chamber of the Tubular
Bridge, with a shriek and rumbling rattle that is almost startling. In
a few seconds we are out into the daylight again, and get a view of the
Straits of Menai; and on the right-hand side, looking back, get an
excellent sight of the Tubular Bridge. At the moment of our passing, a
ship in full sail was running before the wind through the Straits, which
added considerably to the picturesque beauty of the scene. On the left a
fine view of the "Suspension Bridge" is obtained. We are soon past
Llanfair, and across that bleak and desolate part of the island of
Anglesea between the Menai Straits and the Valley. Arriving at Holyhead,
we go on board the steamer which is to carry us across the Channel to
Dublin. The boat not starting immediately, but giving us a little time
to look around, we go on shore again, and saunter up and down the narrow
hilly streets of Holyhead, listening in vain for the sound of a word
spoken in our mother tongue. Not a word could we hear, not a word of
English could we get without asking for it. The most of the people can
speak English with a foreign-like accent, but you seldom hear it unless
you address them in English. Even the urchins in the streets carry on
their games and play in the Welsh and unintelligible sounds resembling
language.

We also had time to examine the stupendous breakwater which the
Government is building at Holyhead to form a harbour of refuge. The wall
is a mile and three-quarters in length, and of immense thickness, in the
form of three terraces, the highest towards the sea. At one place we
noticed that the solid slatey rocks were hewn and dressed into shape,
and thus formed part of the wall itself, a mixture of Nature's handiwork
and the work of man.

Time to go on board again, and as the wind was blowing rather strong, we
expected to have a rough voyage of it; and sure enough we had, for we
were scarcely clear of the sheltering kindliness of the sea wall and the
"north stack" till our vessel began to "pitch and toss," and roll and
creak, and groan in agony; and so highly sympathetic were we that we
did the same, and could not help it, do what we could. Strong tea,
brandy and water, were all no use. Down we went, like prostrate sinners
as we were, on our knees, with clasped hands, praying for the winds and
the waves "to be still;" but they did not heed our prayer in the least,
and kept up their inhumane howling, dancing, and jumbling until, by the
time we reached the middle of the Channel, we began to think that the
captain had lost his course, and that we were somewhere between Holyhead
and purgatory, if not in purgatory itself, being purged of our sins, and
becoming internally pure and externally foul. But we discovered that we,
and not the captain, had lost the course and the even tenour of our way,
for we fancied--perhaps it was only fancy--that we could hear him
humming snatches of old song, among them "Oh! steer my bark to Erin's
Isle!" and soon the mountains of Wicklow are in sight. As we near, and
get under the lee of the land--for it was a stiff "sou'-wester" that
bothered us--our sensations and feelings begin to improve, and we pick
ourselves up out of the mire, and turn our eyes eagerly and hopefully
towards the Emerald Isle, and Dublin Bay more particularly.

As we approach the Bay, the Carlingford Hills can be seen on the right,
and a little more southwards Lambay and Ireland's Eye. The latter island
is rugged and precipitous, seaward, in the extreme--a barren and
desolate-looking spot, possessing an unenviable notoriety on account of
the murder of a lady by her husband having been committed there a few
years ago: Howth, the light-house, and the Bailey Rock, where the _Queen
Victoria_ steamer was wrecked, now attract our attention. And, as nearly
as we can remember, these are the most striking features on the north
side of the Bay. On the south the Harbour of Kingstown is distinctly
visible, and we saw the mail steamer which crosses from Holyhead to
Kingstown, a distance of sixty miles, in three and a half hours, blowing
off her steam. By paying a little extra you can cross in the mail
steamers, if you wish, but it is not worth while paying the difference,
as the ordinary steamers cross from Holyhead to Dublin in about five and
a half hours. All round the south side of the Bay we could trace the
Kingstown and Dublin railway, which is the oldest line but one in the
United Queendoms of Great Britain and Ireland. An obelisk commemorates
the visit of the last of the four Georges to Ireland in 1821. Right
over Kingstown the Killinny Hills are to be seen, and all along the
water-line the Bay is studded with pretty little villas, and the scene
is truly beautiful. If possible, arrange your entrance into the Bay of
Dublin in the early morning, for then the sun, rising in the east,
lights up the subjects to the very best advantage, and throws a charm
about them which they do not exhibit at any other time of the day. By
waiting at Holyhead for the early morning boat you can easily manage
this. But now we are at the North Wall, and on landing are besieged by
Carmen to have a "rowl," and jumping on to one of those light,
odd-looking, jaunting cars which are one of the institutions of the
country, we are "rowled" up the North Wall for nearly a mile, past the
Docks, over the drawbridges, and past the Custom House--a large stone
building, too large for the business of the port--along Carlisle Bridge,
down Westmoreland Street, past the Bank of Ireland--once the Houses of
Parliament--and up Dame Street, leaving the College on our left, and
passing King William's statue, representing a mounted Roman with
_gilded_ laurels and ornamental toga, we arrive at Jury's Hotel, a
commercial and family house of superior arrangements which was well
recommended to us before we left London; and here we rest.

After breakfast, and having made ourselves internally and externally
comfortable, we start for the Exhibition, which is within easy walking
distance of the hotel; but the car fares are so very moderate that we
prefer a "rowl." The fare is sixpence a "set down;" that is, you may
ride from one end of the city to the other for sixpence, but if you get
off to post a letter, or buy an umbrella to keep the rain off--for the
cars have no covering--that is a "set down;" and so every time you get
down and get up again you have sixpence to pay, no matter how short the
distance you are taken each time. So we hailed a car at the door of the
hotel, determined to be "rowled" to the Exhibition for sixpence each. We
go down Dame Street, across College Green, up Grafton Street, along the
west and south sides of St. Stephen's Green or Square to Earlsfort
Terrace and the principal entrance to the Dublin Exhibition, which
occupies the site of what was formerly Coburg Gardens.

Arriving at the entrance-hall, we pay our admission fee, and on passing
the registering turnstiles we are at once in the sculpture hall on the
ground floor, the contents of which we shall notice more particularly
by-and-by. Passing through the Sculpture Hall we are within the western
transept, or winter garden portion of the Exhibition. This transept is
500 feet long and of lofty proportions, with galleries on each side, and
tastefully hung with the banners and flags of the nations exhibiting.
The northern court is about 300 feet long, also of iron and glass, with
galleries running round both sides similar to the western transept. The
ground floor and part of the galleries of the northern court are devoted
to the productions of the United Kingdom. On the north side of the
northern court is the machinery department, both at rest and in motion.
Here machines of the most delicate and ponderous nature are at work.
There a forge-hammer daintily cracking nuts, or coming down with a
crushing force at the will of the attendant. In another place a delicate
curving-machine is at work; and another can be seen making steel pens.
There are high pressure engines, sewing machines, and photographic
rolling-presses. Indeed, there is almost everything to be seen and
everything going on that is instructive, edifying, and amusing. The
Exhibition building is small, but well arranged and compact, and
partakes of the character of an art and industrial exhibition and place
of amusement and recreation, like our Crystal Palace at Sydenham, with
ornamental gardens and archery grounds attached. The gardens are
small--a little larger than the area of the building itself--but most
tastefully laid out. And there are fountains and grottoes, and rockeries
and cascades, with flowers growing about them, which give the whole
place a pleasant, healthy, and delightful appearance. Stepping out of
the western transept into the gardens, we found the band of the 78th
Highlanders playing in the centre, and their pipers walking about the
grounds ready to take up the strains of music in another key, for
presently we saw them marching about, playing "Hielan' Skirls," and
sounding the loud pibroch, with a five-bag power that was more stunning
than the nocturnal wailings of a dozen or two Kilkenny cats. The
directors furnish music and offer other inducements to secure a good
attendance, and their efforts ought to be successful, and it is to be
hoped they will be so.

On the first day of our visit there was a grand archery meeting, and the
turn-out of Dublin belles was double in numbers. There was a large
attendance of bowmen, too, and belles and beaux were banging away at the
targets most unmercifully in keen contest for the prize; whether it was
a medal, a ring, or an heiress, we could not learn; but if nothing more
than the privilege of entering the lists against such lovely
competitors, the bowmen ought to have been satisfied; but we don't
suppose they were, for men are both ambitious and avaricious, and
probably some of them hoped to win a prize medal, kill a beauty, and
catch an heiress all at once, with one swift arrow sent whizzing and
quivering into the very heart and gilded centre of the gaily-painted
target.

Perched up on the top of the cascades we noticed a double sliding-front
stereoscopic camera, and doubtless Mr. York was busy photographing the
scene we have been describing--impressions of which the London
Stereoscopic Company will probably issue ere long. We must, however,
leave this gay scene and turn our attention to other things, certainly
not more attractive; but duty calls us away from beauty, and we must
submit.

Re-entering the Exhibition building, we seek the photographic
department, which we readily find on the ground floor, between the music
hall and the first-class refreshment-room. Entering from the Belgian
department in the western transept, we find three rooms in the main
building devoted to the exhibition of photographs, and a lobby between
the rooms pretty well filled with apparatus. To Sir J. Jocelyn Coghill
are photographers indebted for obtaining so much space for their works,
and in such a get-at-able situation; but it is a pity the rooms are not
better lighted. Many of the pictures on the screens are very
indistinctly seen, and some are in dark corners scarcely to be seen at
all.

The foreign department, which is the first room we enter, is mainly made
up of reproductions of old and modern engravings, and copies of drawings
and paintings. One very remarkable photograph on the wall of this room
is an immense magnification of a flea, by A. Duvette. What a subject for
the camera!--one that suggests in sporting phraseology something more
than the "find," the "chase," and the "death."

A panoramic view of Rome, by M. Petagna, is a great achievement in
panoramic photography. There are seven impressions from 15 by 12 plates,
all carefully joined, and of equal tone. The point of view is "Tasso's
Oak," and the panorama gives us an excellent idea of Rome at the present
day.

The British part of the Photographic Exhibition in Dublin might be very
properly denominated an enlargement of the Society's exhibition now open
in Conduit Street, London. Nearly all the principal exhibitors there
have sent duplicates of their chief works to the Dublin Exhibition.
There is Robinson's beautiful picture of "Brenda," his "May Gatherers,"
"Sunshine," "Autumn," "Somebody Coming," "Bringing home the May," &c.,
all old and familiar pictures, every one of which we have seen before.
Robinson himself in his study--a beautiful piece of photography, even to
his black velvet coat. Blanchard also repeats his "Zealot," and other
subjects, and sends a frame full of his exquisite stereographs. England
also sends some of his charming stereoscopic pictures of Switzerland and
Savoy. Bedford's contribution is much the same as his pictures in the
London exhibition. Among them are his lovely Warwickshire pictures.
Wet-plate photography is well represented, both in landscape,
portraiture, and composition. Among the latter, Rejlander is most
prominent. One frame containing some pictures showing the "expression"
of the hands, illustrates Rejlander's artistic knowledge and ability
more than many of his other pictures. None but a thoughtful and
accomplished artist could have disposed of those members in such a
skilful manner. His pictures of "Grief," "The Mote," "The Wayfarer,"
"'Tis Light within--Dark without," and his "Home, Sweet Home," reveal
exquisite feeling in his treatment of such subjects. Thurston Thompson
also exhibits some of his fine reproductions of Turner. There is
"Crossing the Brook," and "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage;" but a much
larger collection of these beautiful copies of Turner's pictures are now
on view at Marion's, in Soho Square.

Dry plate photography is exemplified in all its phases, from the oldest
form of albumen alone, to the latest modifications with collodion,
collodio-albumen, Fothergill, tannin, malt, &c. The most prominent and
largest contributor to this department is Mr. Mudd. In addition to the
duplicates in the London Exhibition, he sends a few others, the most
remarkable of which is a large view of "Borrowdale," a noble picture,
exquisitely treated, showing masses of light and shade and pleasing
composition which stamp it at once as a work of art.

Mr. G. S. Penny exhibits some very fine examples of the tannin and malt
process. They are soft and delicate, and possess sufficient force to
give powerful contrasts when necessary. Mr. Bull's tannin and malt
pictures are also very good; his "Menai Bridge" particularly so.

The amateur photographers, both wet and dry, make a good show. And
among the Irish followers of our delightful art are Sir J. J. Coghill,
who exhibits twelve very pretty views of the neighbourhood of
Castletownsend. Dr. Hemphill, of Clonmel, also exhibits a variety of
subjects, many of them pretty compositions and excellent photography.

Dr. Bailey, of Monaghan, contributes both landscapes and portraits of
very good quality. Mr. T. M. Brownrigg shows seventeen photographs all
excellent examples of the wet collodion process. Many of them are
exquisite bits of photography, and evince an amount of thought and care
in selecting the best point of view, arranging the lines of the subject,
and catching the best effect of light so as to make them pictures, which
is seldom attended to by professional photographers.

Amongst the Irish professional photographers in landscape work, Mr. F.
Mares, of Dublin, stands pre-eminent. His pictures of Killarney, and
views in the county of Wicklow, are very beautiful, and give evidence of
a cultivated eye and artistic taste in the selection of his subjects and
points of view. There are other excellent views and architectural
subjects by Irish photographers; but we are sorry to observe some that
really ought not to have been admitted. They are not even average
photography, being utterly destitute of manipulative skill, and as
deficient in art-excellence as they can well be.

One branch of landscape, or, we should say, marine photography, is
without competition. We refer to those exquisite and charming
transparencies by Mr. C. S. Breese. His moonlight effect is wonderfully
managed; the water looks "alive," and the moonlight is dancing on the
waves just as we have seen it far away upon the sea. His "Breaking Wave"
is marvellous, coming to shore with its cavernous curl; we almost fancy
we hear its angry howl as it dashes itself into foam on the beach. We
have seen such a wave sweep the deck of a ship before now, and know well
with what a ponderous weight and velocity it comes; and we wonder the
more at Mr. Breese's success in catching the wave in such a position. We
cannot, however, speak so highly of the "Sunlight" effects by the same
artist. The transparencies as photographs are inimitable; but there is
colour introduced into the skies which ought to have been taken up by
the rocks, and so carried into the foregrounds of the pictures, to be
natural. Such warm skies and cold middle distances and foregrounds are
too antagonistic for the harmony of nature.

In portraiture, our Irish brethren of the camera contribute somewhat
liberally. In that branch we noticed the works of Messrs. Robertson and
Co., S. Lawrence, and G. Schroeder, of Grafton Street; Millard and
Robinson, Nelson and Marshall, and S. Chancellor, of Sackville Street,
Dublin. T. Cranfield, Grafton Street, also exhibits some photographs
beautifully coloured in oil.

The most eminent English photographers also show up well. We saw the
well-known works of Mayall, Silvy, Claudet, Maull and Co., and others,
eminent in plain photography. Messrs. Lock and Whitfield exhibit a Royal
case of exquisitely coloured photographs of the Prince and Princess of
Wales, and Prince Albert Victor. Mr. G. Wharton Simpson also exhibits a
few specimens of his beautiful collodio-chloride of silver printing
process. There are some lovely specimens of that process with such a
frightfully ugly name, but which, in plain parlance, are pictures on
opal glass, though Mr. Helsby has christened them "Helioaristotypia
miniatures." As a set-off to this, the next dry process that is
discovered should be called "Hydrophobiatypia."

In amateur portraiture, Mr. H. Cooper, Jun., exhibits a large number of
his clever life studies, as well as those quiet and charming
representations of his friends in their habits as they live.

Solar camera enlargements are very numerously contributed. Mr. Claudet
sends some good pictures enlarged by solar camera, and developed with
gallic acid. Mr. Salomon also has some very good examples of enlarging.
Dr. D. Van Monckhoven is an exhibitor of the capabilities of his direct
printing camera. Mr. Mayall exhibits two series of very interesting
enlargements by the Monckhoven camera, printed direct on albumenized
paper; one is Tennyson, in eight different sizes, from a one-ninth to a
life-size head on a whole sheet of paper; of the other, Captain Grant,
there are seven similar pictures. These photographs are all bold and
vigorous and uniform in colour, and come nearer to our idea of what an
enlargement should be than anything we have yet seen. Of the two, that
of the Poet-Laureate is the best; the other is harsher, which is in all
probability due to the difference in the subjects themselves. We can
easily imagine that the face of Captain Grant, bronzed and
weather-beaten as it must be, will present more obstacles to the
obtaining of a soft negative than that of Tennyson. Specimens of
photo-sculpture are also to be seen at the Dublin Exhibition, many of
which are very pretty and life-like statuettes; but some of the figures
seem much too large in the _busts_, and the plinths on which the figures
of ladies stand are in very bad taste; being diminishing beads of a
circular form, they suggest the idea of a huge crinoline just dropped.

Nearly all the denominations of photography have their representative
forms and impressions in this Exhibition; and the history of the art,
from the early days of the Daguerreotype to the latest vagary of the
present day, may be traced in the collection of photographs spread
before you on the walls and screens of the Dublin International
Exhibition. There is the Daguerreotype, the Ambrotype, and the
collodiotype, which ought to have been known as the Archertype; for the
wet collodion process, although it is the most important of all the
discoveries in photography that have been made since the first pictures
were obtained by Wedgwood, is without a name conferring honour on the
man who first applied collodion to photography. Archer's name is
generally associated with it, but without taking that definite and
appellative form it ought to. We know that another claimant has been
"cutting in" for the honour, but unless that claim can be "backed up" by
data, we are not disposed to believe that it was anterior to 1851--the
year of the first exhibition; at that date we know that Mr. Archer took
photographs on collodionized glass plates. Then why should we not honour
Archer as the French honoured Daguerre, and call the wet collodion
process the Archertype?

In printing and toning, there are samples of nearly all the formulæ that
have been discovered since the days of printing on plain salted paper
and fixing in "hypo" only. There are prints on plain paper and on
albumenized paper, toned and fixed in every conceivable way. There are
prints on glass, porcelain, and ivory; prints in carbon, from the
negative direct; and impressions in printer's ink from plates, blocks,
and lithographic stones, which have had the subjects transferred to them
by the aid of photography. There are Wothlytypes, and Simpsontypes, and
Tooveytypes, and all the other types that have sprung from a desire to
introduce novelties into the art.

In graphs and the various forms and fanciful applications of photography
to portraiture, &c., there are stereographs and micrographs, and the
old-fashioned "sit-on-a-chair" graphs, the "stand-not-at-ease" graphs,
the "small carte" graph, the "large carte" graph, the "casket gem"
graph, the "magnesium" graph, the "cameo" graph, the "double-stupid"
graph, and the latest of all novelties, the "turn-me-round" graph. The
latter is a great curiosity, and must have been suggested by a
recollection of that "scientific toy" of ancient manufacture with which
we used to awaken the wonder of our little brothers and sisters at
Christmas parties when we were boys, by twirling before their
astonished eyes a piece of cardboard with a bird painted on one side and
a cage on the other, both pictures being seen at the same time during
the rapid revolution of the card.

In apparatus there is not much to talk about, the Pantascopic camera
being the chief novelty. There are several of the manufacturers
exhibiting in the photographic department, but we could not reconcile
ourselves to the circumstance of Mr. Dallmeyer not exhibiting in the
right place. His name is honoured by photographers, and he should have
honoured Photography by going in under her colours. If he must go to the
"scientific department," he ought to have gone there with his scientific
instruments alone, and shown his photographic apparatus in the place
assigned for that purpose. True, he makes a handsome show, but that does
not atone for his mistake. Photographers are queer animals--jealous of
their rights, and as sensitive to slight as their plates are to light;
and we fear we are ourselves not much better. A large majority of
photographers stand by Mr. Dallmeyer, and very justly believe in his
1 and 2 B's as shippers do in A 1's at Lloyd's; and _his_ stand should
have been in the photographic department.

In other parts of the Exhibition building there are various subjects
highly interesting to photographers.

The chemical department has its attractions in samples of
collodio-chloride of silver, prepared by Messrs. Mawson and Swan, for
the opal printing process and the Simpsontype. Specimens of each type
are also to be seen there; and there are other chemicals used in
photography, even to dextrine and starch: the purity of the latter is
known by the size and length of its crystals.

In metallurgy there is also something to interest photographers. Messrs.
Johnson and Sons exhibit some very fine samples of nitrate of silver,
double and treble crystallized, silver dippers, chloride of gold,
nitrate of uranium, and other scarce metals.

Messrs. Johnson, Matthey, and Co. also exhibit some fine samples of
nitrate of silver and chloride of gold; and some wonderful specimens of
magnesium, in various forms, in wire and ribbon. One coil of ribbon is
4,800 feet long, and weighs 40 ounces; and there is an obelisk of
magnesium about 20 inches high, and weighing 162 ounces.

There are many other things in this case of great value which have a
photographic bearing--amongst these a platinum boiler, valued at £1,500,
for the concentration and rectification of sulphuric acid; a platinum
alembic, value £350, for the separation and refining of gold and silver;
also an ingot of platinum, weighing 3,200 ounces, and valued at £3,840.
The exhibitors say that "such a mass of fused platinum is never likely
to be again produced." The whole of the contents of Messrs. Johnson,
Matthey, and Co.'s case of precious metals, most of which have a direct
or indirect application to photography, are estimated at the enormous
value of £16,000!

Mining, too, has its attractions for us; and as we near the Nova Scotia
division of the Exhibition building the needle of our observation dips
towards a bar of pure gold, weighing 48 pounds, and valued at £2,200
sterling.

By the gentlemanly courtesy of the Rev. Dr. Honeyman, Honorary Secretary
and Commissioner in Dublin, from the province of Nova Scotia, we were
favoured with a "lift" of this valuable lump of gold, and we could not
help exclaiming, "What a lot of chloride this would make!" But we had to
"drop it" very quickly, for the muscles of our fingers could not bear
the strain of holding it more than a few seconds. This bar of gold was
obtained from very rich quartz, specimens of which are to be seen near
it; and Dr. Honeyman informed us that the average daily remuneration
from such quartz was thirty shillings sterling per man.

It is not generally known that the province of Nova Scotia is so rich in
gold; but, from statistics by the Chief Commissioner of Mines for the
province, we find that the average yield of the Nova Scotia quartz is
over 19 dwt. per ton, and richer than the quartz of Australia; and the
deeper the shafts are sunk the richer the quartz becomes. In 1864 the
total yield from all the gold districts of Nova Scotia was 20,022
ounces, 18 dwts., 13 grs. Gold dust and scales have also been found in
the sands on the sea coast of the province, and in the sands of Sable
Island, which is eighty miles distant, in the Atlantic Ocean. Having in
our own colonies such an abundance of one of the precious metals so
extensively used in the practice of our art, photographers need not be
under any apprehension of having their supplies cut off.

Continuing our general survey, we stumble upon many things of
considerable interest. But, as our space will only allow us to
particularize those articles which have a photographic attraction,
direct or indirect, we must as far as possible imagine ourselves
something like animated photometers for the time being, registering the
aspects, changes, and remarkable phenomena connected with our art, and
whatever can be applied to photography and the use of photographers; or
whatever photography can be applied to, artistically or commercially
considered.

Of some things non-photographic, but of interest to photographers as
well as others, we may be induced to say a little; but of most subjects
foreign to our profession we shall simply say to our readers, "We have
seen such wondrous things, go ye and do likewise."

We finished our last paper with a few comments on what was
photographically interesting in the province of Nova Scotia. Passing
from that to the provinces of the Lower and Upper Canadas, which are
very properly placed next door to each other, we are struck with some
very good and interesting photographs of Canadian scenery, both plain
and in colours, and a frame of portraits of the delegates of the British
North American Confederation. Samples of all kinds of native and Indian
manufactures, and specimens of mineral ores, chiefly iron and copper,
are also displayed here.

Pursuing our way southwards from the Colonial division of the galleries,
we come to China and Japan. The geographical and relative positions of
the countries exhibiting are not strictly adhered to in the plan of the
Exhibition, so we must, of necessity, make some "long legs," and
experience some imaginary transitions of temperature during our journey
of observation. In Japan we stop to look at a life-size group of female
figures, representing a princess at her toilette, attended by four
female slaves, books illustrated with wood-cuts, plain and coloured,
bronzes, and many other articles of art and manufacture, by the
Japanese, of much interest.

In China, there is a State bedstead of great beauty, books of paintings
upon rice-paper, and many beautiful bronzes, carvings, and other
specimens of Chinese art.

We pass through Turkey, and next come to Siam, but the latter country
does not exhibit much, except of a "seedy" character. We admit we are
sometimes addicted to making puns, but the Siamese send puns for
exhibition. There is an article called "pun," which is "prepared lime,
coloured pink with turmeric," but to what use it is applied we have not
been enlightened.

Passing through France, Austria, Prussia, Belgium, and Holland, without
stopping to notice anything particularly, and turning into the south
corridor, we enter the Water Colour Gallery, which we quickly leave,
sighing, "How unlike that beautiful and attractive section of the Art
Treasure Exhibition at Manchester in 1857!" Hastening into the Central
Picture Gallery, we are much struck with the different appearance it
presents, and find numbers of ladies and gentlemen admiring the numerous
productions by painters belonging to the various foreign schools. Among
these works are some grand subjects, both in historical and ideal
composition, and landscape representations. This gallery has a
particularly noble and handsome appearance. It is oblong, well-lighted,
and open in the middle, by which means the Sculpture Hall, which is
underneath, is lighted. The sides of the gallery next the open space are
handsomely railed round, and pedestals, with marble busts and statuettes
on them, are tastefully arranged at intervals, leaving room enough for
you to look down into the Sculpture Hall below. What with the fine
pictures on the walls and staircase, and the noble statues in marble
about and below, you cannot but come to the conclusion that this is a
noble temple of art.

We next enter the east front room, which contains the works of the
Belgian artists. Many of these paintings are very finely conceived and
executed. The largest and most striking of them is the "Defeat of the
Duke of Alençon's Troops by the Citizens of Antwerp," painted by A.
Dillens.

Now we enter the Great Picture Gallery, which is devoted to the painters
belonging to the British school. Here we find many of the well-known
works from the National Gallery and Kensington Museum. There are
examples of the works of Callcott, Collins, Wilkie, Wilson, Turner,
Landseer, Mulready, Etty, Egg, Ward, Leslie, and a host of others. Her
Majesty the Queen also sends several pictures from her private
collection, as examples of the works of Winterhalter, Thomas, and
Stanfield. Nearly all the British artists are creditably represented in
the Dublin International Art Exhibition.

We next come to the Collection of Ancient Masters in the North Gallery,
which we enter from the North Corridor. To this part of the Fine Art
Exhibition the Earl of Portarlington is the most liberal contributor. He
sends examples of Titian, Rubens, Carlo Dolci, Tintoretto, Canalette,
Claude, Watteau, Rembrandt, Gerard Dow, Schneiders, Vandevelde, Sir
Joshua Reynolds, Sir Peter Lely, and others. The Marquis of Drogheda
also sends several examples of the same masters, some of them very fine
ones. Sir Charles Coote sends a great many paintings; among them a
Murillo, a Guido, and a Gainsborough.

Thence we pass into the Mediæval Court, where we find nothing but
croziers, sacramental cups and plates, carved panels for pulpits and
clerks' desks, reminding us of "responses" and "amens." These we leave
to Churchmen, enthusiastic Puseyites, and devotees of Catholicism. And
we wend our way round the galleries, passing through Switzerland and
Italy into the United Kingdom, where we stop to examine some of the art
manufactures peculiar to Ireland, and are particularly interested in the
specimens of Irish bog oak, carved most tastefully into various
ornaments, such as brooches, pins, paper-knives, &c., and sculptured
into humorous and characteristic statuettes. The most noticeable of that
class of Irish art and industry is a clever group, entitled, "Where's
the man that dare tread on my coat?" This really humorous and artistic
statuette is one of a group of two. One is a rollicking Irishman
brandishing his shillelagh over his head and trailing his coat on the
ground, which is the Irishman's challenge for a fight at such places as
Donnybrook Fair. The other Irishman, who is equally ready for a "row,"
is in the act of treading on the coat, as an acceptance of the
challenge. The story is so cleverly told, that we almost fancy we see
the fight begin, and hear the shillelaghs cracking crowns in a genuine
Irish row.

Pushing on through India to the British Colonies again, whence we
started, we descend to the ground floor, and resume our survey of
Sweden, Norway, Italy, and Rome, and turn into the Music Hall, which is
on the south side of the entrance and Statuary Hall. Here we find the
organ builders at work on the grand organ, blowing up one pipe after
another, and producing such volumes of inharmonious sounds that we are
glad to leave them to the full and hearty enjoyment of their pipes,
chords, discords, and bellows-blowing. The walls of the Music Hall are
nearly covered with cartoons and paintings of a high-class, some of
them so high that we require an opera-glass to bring them within the
range of our visual organs.

We next enter the Sculpture Hall with a view of examining the statues
and describing them carefully. But they are so numerous that we can only
find space to call attention to the most striking. There are over three
hundred pieces of sculpture from various countries, comprising colossal
and life-size figures, groups, busts, statuettes, and alto-relievos in
marble and bronze. The most attractive of the marble statues are
"Michael Angelo, when a child, sculpturing the head of a Faun" (his
first work), by Emilio Zocchi, of Florence. The earnestness of purpose
and devotion to his task are wonderfully expressed in the countenance of
the boy-sculptor. Plying the hammer and chisel actively and vigorously,
every part of the figure betokens a thorough abandonment to his
occupation. A very remarkable work by a lady sculptor--Miss Harriett
Hosmer--entitled "The Sleeping Faun," is the very opposite to the other,
in its complete abandonment to repose. This fine statue has been
purchased by Mr. Guiness, and we were told he had given a munificent sum
for it. Another piece of exquisite beauty and daring skill in marble
working is "The Swinging Girl," by Pietro Magni, of Milan, the sculptor
of "The Reading Girl," which attracted so much attention in the
International Exhibition of 1862. The figure of the girl swinging is
beautifully modelled, and entirely free from contact with the base; and
is supported only by the swing attached to the branch of a tree, and the
hand of a boy giving action to the subject. "Ophelia," by W. C.
Marshall, is perhaps the most poetic conception of the loveliest and
most mournful of Shakespeare's creations that has ever been sculptured.
It is almost impossible to look at this touching representation of
Ophelia in her madness without exclaiming, in a modified quotation of
her own description of Hamlet--

  "O, what a gentle mind is here o'erthrown."

But we must stop. To go on in this way describing all the beautiful
works of art in the Dublin Exhibition would fill a volume. Already we
have allowed our admiration to carry us beyond the limits we had
assigned ourselves. We have been tempted to describe more than
photographic works, but none that have not a value artistically or
otherwise to photographers. We recommend all our readers that possibly
can to go and see for themselves. The trip is a very pleasant one, and
need not be expensive; nor need much time be spent unnecessarily. A
week's absence from business will give you five clear days in Dublin,
the other two only being occupied in travelling. Five days will be amply
sufficient to see the Exhibition and the "extraneous lions" of Dublin
also. If your time is limited, give a carman a job to "rowl" you to the
principal places of interest. But "by all means" select a rough, ragged,
red-headed, laughing-faced Irishman for your jarvey, and depend upon it
he will keep you in good humour during the whole of your trip. And every
time you come to a public-house he will say his "horse wants a dthrink,"
and "Won't yer honours have a dthrop?" as if he was going to stand
treat; but of course you know what he means; besides, the idea of
allowing a carman to treat his fare is not to be entertained for a
moment, nor can you resist the good-humoured intimation of his desire to
drink your health, for which honour, as a matter of course, you pay
costs.

Having endeavoured to conduct our readers to Dublin, and give them a
glance at the Exhibition, photographically and generally, we shall now
take our leave of the capital of Ireland, and return to town in much the
same manner as we went. We leave the Irish capital at 1.30 in the
afternoon, and, after a pleasant and quiet run across the Channel, enter
Holyhead harbour about seven o'clock. This arrangement gives you an
opportunity of seeing the Welsh coast to the best advantage as you
approach. Stepping into the train which is waiting our arrival, we are
speedily on our way home. At Rugby we have to change, and wait a little;
but before leaving there we pass the sign which only old masons and
travellers know, and are provided with a first-class bed and _board_,
and so make ourselves comfortable for the night. We know nothing more of
the remainder of the journey. Old Somnus has charge of us inside, and an
old kind-hearted guard takes care of us outside, until we are aroused by
the guard's "Good morning, gentlemen!" about six o'clock, a.m., within a
few miles of Euston Square. In conclusion, we sincerely recommend as
many of our readers as can to take a trip "to Dublin and back," and a
glance at the Dublin International Exhibition.


PHOTOGRAPHY IN THE NORTH.

On a recent journey northwards, I was tempted to stop at York, take a
look at the Exhibition there, and see if there were anything worth
notice in the Photographic Department. That part of the Exhibition is
exceedingly scanty, but the best Yorkshire photographers are well
represented, both in landscape and portraiture. Among the contributors
are the names of Sarony, Glaisby, Holroyd, Gowland, and other well-known
names. Mr. Sarony exhibits a couple of frames containing several "new
photo-crayons," cartes-de-visite vignettes, which are very sketchy and
effective, exhibiting those free and "dashy lines" and "hatchings" so
characteristic of the "softening off" of artistic crayon drawings. This
effect may be produced by a process of double printing, but it is more
likely to have been obtained direct in the camera from a screen, having
the edges of the aperture "softened off" with some free touches, the
screen, in all probability, being placed between the lens and the
sitter. Mr. Sarony also exhibits some large photographs very beautifully
finished in colours. Messrs. Gowland exhibit, in a revolving case, a
very unique collection of medallions and vignettes, both plain and
coloured, mounted on tinted grounds, which give the pictures a very
chaste and delicate appearance. The photographs themselves are exquisite
bits of artistic pose and careful manipulation. They also exhibit a
charming vignette of twenty-nine young ladies, all cleverly arranged,
each figure sharp and distinct, and evidently recognisable portraits.
This picture reminds one of Watteau, for the figures are in the woods,
only, instead of semi-nude nymphs, the sitters are all properly and
fashionably dressed young ladies. Messrs. Holroyd contribute some very
excellent cartes-de-visite and enlargements. Mr. E. C. Walker, of
Liverpool, exhibits some very beautiful opalotypes, or "photographs on
enamelled glass." Mr. Swan, Charing Cross, London, also sends specimens
of his crystal cube portraits. Mr. A. H. Clarke, a deaf and dumb
photographer, exhibits some very good groups of the Princess of Wales,
Lady Wharncliffe, Lady Maud Lascelles, Countess Granville, and the Hon.
Mrs. Hardinge, taken in the conservatory, when the Princess and suite
were on a visit to Studley Royal, Yorkshire.

Amongst the landscape photographs are to be found some of Bedford's
finest views of Egypt and Jerusalem, Devonshire and Warwickshire, the
beauties of which are so well-known to everyone interested in
photography. Some of the local views by local artists are very fine; W.
P. Glaisby's views of York Minster are capital, especially the
interiors. Messrs. Jackson Brothers, of Oldham, exhibit some very fine
views, and show what atmospheric effects the camera is capable of
rendering. That view of "Birstall Church" is a perfect master-piece of
photo-aerial perspective. There are also a considerable number of
photographic productions from the South Kensington Museum. Mr. Gregson,
of Halifax, exhibits some excellent photographs of machinery. In
apparatus there is nothing novel or striking, there being but one case
of cameras, &c., exhibited by a London maker. There is a "water
agitator" in the machinery "annexe," for washing photographic prints,
but the invention is more ingenious than effective, for the water is not
agitated sufficiently, except in the immediate neighbourhood of the fan
or "agitator," which moves backwards and forwards in the water, in a
manner somewhat similar to the motion of the pendulum of a clock, and so
laves the water to and fro; but the force is not sufficient to prevent
the prints from lying close together at the extremities of the trough,
and imperfect washing is sure to be the result. The motion is given to
the "agitator" by the water falling on a small wheel, something like
"Williams's revolving print washing machine."

To describe the Exhibition itself: It is rather like a "compound
mixture" of the church, the shop, and the show. The "Great Hall" is
something like the nave of a wooden cathedral, with galleries running
all round, and a grand organ at the end, peeling forth, at intervals,
solemn strains of long measure. Over the organ, in white letters on a
red ground, is the quotation, "He hath made all things beautiful in his
time."

The show cases on the floor of the Grand Hall are arranged as
indiscriminately as the shops in Oxford Street. In one case there are
exhibited samples of Colman's mustard, in that next to it samples of
"Elkington and Co.'s plated goods," and in another close by are samples
of saddlery, which give the place more the business aspect of a bazaar
than the desirable and advantageous classification of an exhibition.
Then you are reminded of the show by the frequent ringing of a loud
bell, and cries of "This way to the fairy fountain, just going to begin,
only twopence." Such things jar on the ears and nerves of quiet
visitors, and are only expected in such a place as the Polytechnic in
London.

The great features of the York Exhibition are the picture galleries; and
here a better order of things prevails. The collections are classified;
one gallery, or part of it, being devoted to the works of the old
masters, another to the modern, and another to the water-colours. Among
the old masters are some fine portraits by Velasquez, Tintoretto,
Rembrandt, Vandyke, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Gainsborough, Sir Peter Lely,
and others. And some of those grand old landscapes by Salvator Rosa,
Rubens, Claude, Wilson, the English Claude, and George Morland, such
pictures as are rarely seen out of private collections. The modern
masters are abundantly represented by Wilkie, Etty, Frith, Westall,
Faed, Cope, E. Nicol, Stanfield, Linnell, and a host of others. Amongst
the water-colours are many fine examples of the works of Turner, the
Richardsons (father and sons), Birket Foster, &c., &c.

Sculpture is very faintly represented, but there is a charming little
Canova, Dirce, exhibited by Lord Wenlock; an antique bust of Julius
Cæsar, which seems to have been found in fragments and carefully joined
together. This bust is exhibited by the Hon. P. Downay, and was found in
Rome amongst some rubbish, while some excavations were being made. There
is also an interesting series of marble busts of the Twelve Cæsars,
exhibited by Lord Londesborough. The Exhibition is open in the evening,
and brilliantly lighted with gas till ten o'clock; and, taking it "all
in all," it is a very creditable effort in the right direction, and does
honour to York and Yorkshiremen.

Further north still, at Newcastle-on-Tyne, there is another exhibition
of "Arts and Manufactures," the chief photographic feature of which is a
considerable display of "Swan's Carbon Prints," from several well-known
negatives by Bedford and Robinson. The promise of this process is very
great, and its commercial advantages were singularly demonstrated to me
when visiting the printing establishment of Mr. Swan, which I happened
to do on a dark and unfavourable day--one totally unfit for silver
printing; and yet I saw several very beautiful carbon prints that had
been produced that day, the rate of production being about eight to one
over silver printing. As a proof of the certainty and commercial
application to which Mr. Swan has reduced his beautiful process, I need
only mention that he has undertaken the printing of two thousand copies
of the celebrated picture of "The First General Assembly of the Church
of Scotland," painted by D. O. Hill. This historical picture contains
four hundred and fifty portraits: the negatives were taken from the
original painting by Mr. Annan, photographer, Glasgow, and are 32 by 14
inches, and 24 by 9 inches; and Mr. Swan has to turn off one thousand
copies of each within a given time. The publishers of the work give a
guarantee to their subscribers that every print shall be of a high
standard, for each one has to pass the examination of two competent
judges. They also very justly pride themselves on being the very first
to translate and multiply such noble works of art by a process "so
beautiful, and, at the same time, _imperishable_." I saw several of the
prints, both in process of development and complete; and anything more
like rich, soft, and brilliant impressions of a fine mezzotint engraving
I never saw, by any process of photography.

Mr. Swan's arrangements for conducting the various parts of his process
are very extensive and complete; and his mode of "developing and
transferring" seems to be the very acme of perfection. But, as Mr. Swan
is about to publish a work containing a full description of the process,
with a beautiful specimen print as frontispiece, I will not anticipate
him, or mar his own comprehensive account of the details of a process
which he has brought to such a state of beauty and perfection, by an
amount of patient perseverance and thoughtful application rarely
exhibited or possessed by one individual.

I also visited the photographic establishment of Messrs. Downey in
Newcastle, and there saw some _cabinet pictures_ of the Princess of
Wales, taken recently at Abergeldie Castle. Messrs. Downey have just
returned from Balmoral with upwards of two hundred negatives, including
whole-plate, half-plate, and _cabinet_ size, which will be published in
one or all those sizes, as soon as the orders of Her Majesty have been
executed. From the well-known reputation of the Messrs. Downey as
photographers, it is, in all probability, a treat in store for the
lovers of photography, to get a sight of their latest works at Balmoral
and Abergeldie.

Mr. Parry, another excellent photographer in Newcastle, was also making
arrangements to introduce the new cabinet size picture in a style that
will insure its success.

Altogether, the movements of the best photographers in the North are
highly commendable, and, with their notoriously practical minds, there
is little doubt of their undertakings becoming a success. Let us hope
that the same elements of energy and "push" will speedily impregnate the
minds of all photographers, and create a combination that will develop a
new form of popular beauty, and result in forming a salt that will
savour their labours, produce deposits of gold, and create innumerable
orders of merit.


ERRORS IN PICTORIAL BACKGROUNDS.

We have recently had a few papers on the necessity of art culture and
art knowledge in relation to photography, but they have chiefly been of
a theoretical and speculative character, few, if any, assuming a
practical form. "Apply the rod to teach the child" is an old saying, and
our artist friends and teachers _have_ applied the rod and belaboured
photography most unmercifully, but they have _not_ taught the child.
They have contented themselves with abusing photographers for not doing
what was right, instead of teaching them how to avoid what was wrong.

It will be my endeavour to point out, in this paper, some errors that
have crept into photographers' and artists' studios, and I hope to be
able to suggest a remedy that will lessen these evils, and elevate
photography in the scale of art. The faults in pictorial backgrounds
that I invite your attention to, arise from the neglect of the
principles of linear and aerial perspective. I do not speak of the
errors in perspective that may exist in the backgrounds themselves,
viewing them as pictures; but I refer to the manifest fault of depicting
the sitter--the principal object--according to one condition of
perspective, and the background that is placed behind him according to
another. An unpardonable error in any work of art, whether photograph or
painting, is to represent a natural object in an unnatural position. By
this I do not mean an awkward and constrained attitude, but a false
position of the principal subject in relation to the other objects by
which it is surrounded. We frequently see portraits, both full-length
and three-quarter size, with landscape backgrounds--or a bit of
landscape to be seen through a painted or actual window--of the most
unnatural proportions in relation to the figure itself. The head of the
subject is stuck high in the heavens--sometimes so high that, in
relation to the painted landscape, nothing shorter than a church steeple
could attain such an altitude. The trees and castles of the pretty
landscape, supposed to be behind the sitter, are like children's toys;
the mountains are like footballs in size, and the "horizon" is not so
much in relation to the figure as the width of a fishpond is to a man
standing on one side of it. It must be admitted that artists themselves
have set this bad example of departing from truth to give increased
importance to their subjects by placing their figures against diminutive
backgrounds; but that is a liberty taken with nature which photographers
should neither imitate nor allow. Photography is, in all other respects,
so rigidly truthful that it cannot consistently sanction such a
violation of natural laws.

Pictorial backgrounds have usually been painted on the same principle as
a landscape picture, and one of the earliest things the painter has to
determine is, where he shall represent that line where the sky and
earth appear to meet--technically, the _horizontal line_. This settled,
all the lines, not vertical or horizontal in the picture, below this are
made to appear to rise up to it, and those above descend, and if all
these are in due proportion the perspective is correct, no matter
whether this governing line is assumed to be in the upper, lower, or
middle part of the picture. A painter can suppose this imaginary line to
be at any height he pleases in his picture, and paint accordingly. In
photography it is invariable, and is always on a level with the lens of
the camera. To illustrate the relation of the horizontal line to the
human figure, when a pictorial background is to be introduced, let us
imagine that we are taking a portrait out-of-doors, with a free and open
country behind the person standing for his carte-de-visite. The camera
and the model are, as a matter of course, on the same level. Now focus
the subject and observe the linear construction of the landscape
background of nature. See how all the lines of the objects below the
level of the lens run up to it, and the lines of the objects above run
down to it. Right across the lens is the horizontal line, and the centre
is the point of sight, where all the lines will appear to converge.
Suppose the lens to be on a level with the face of the subject, the
horizontal line of the picture produced on the ground glass will be as
near as possible as high as the eyes of the subject. Trees and hills in
the distance will be above, and the whole picture will be in harmony.
This applies to interior views as well, but the ocular demonstration is
not so conclusive, for the converging lines will be cut or stopped by
the perpendicular wall forming the background. Nevertheless, all the
converging lines that are visible will be seen to be on their way to the
point of sight. Whether a natural background consisted of an interior,
or comprised both--such as a portion of the wall of a room and a peep
through a window on one side of the figure--the conditions would be
exactly the same. All the lines above the lens must come down, and all
that are below must go up. The following diagrams will illustrate this
principle still more clearly.

    [Illustration: Fig. 1.]

    [Illustration: Fig. 2.]

Fig. 1 is a section of the linear construction of a picture, and will
show how the lines converge from the point of observation to the point
of sight. Artists, in constructing a landscape of an ordinary form,
allot to the sky generally about twice the space between the base and
horizontal lines. But for portraits and groups, where the figures are of
the greatest importance and nearer to the eye, the proportion of sky and
earth is reversed, so as to give increased value to the principal
figures, by making them apparently larger, and still preserving the
proper relation between them and the horizontal line (see fig. 2). This
diagram represents the conditions of a full-length carte portrait, where
the governing horizontal line is on a level with the camera. If a
pictorial background, painted in the usual way, with the horizontal line
low in the picture, is now placed behind the sitter, the resulting
photograph will be incongruous and offensive. It will be seen, on
referring to fig. 2, that all the lines below the horizon must of
necessity run up to it, no matter how high the horizontal line may be,
for it is impossible to have two horizons in one picture; that is, a
visible horizon in the landscape background, and an imaginary one for
the figure, with the horizontal line of the background far below the
head of the figure, and the head far up in the sky. The head of a human
figure can only be seen so far above the horizontal line under certain
conditions; such as being elevated above the observer by being mounted
on horseback, standing on higher ground, or otherwise placed
considerably above the base line, none of which conditions are present
in a studio. Whenever the observed and observer are on the same level,
as must be the case when a photographer is taking the portrait of a
sitter in his studio, the head of the subject could not possibly be seen
so high in the sky, if the lens included a natural background instead of
a painted one. As, for convenience, the painted background is intended
to take the place of a natural one, care should be taken that the linear
and aerial perspectives should be as true to nature as possible, and in
perfect harmony with the size of the figures. The lens registers, on the
prepared plate, the relative proportions of natural objects as
faithfully as the retina receives them through the eye, and if we wish
to carry out the illusion of pictorial backgrounds correctly, we _must_
have the linear construction of the picture, which is intended to
represent nature, as true in every respect as nature is herself.

Aerial perspective has not been sufficiently attended to by the painters
of pictorial backgrounds. There are many other subjects in connection
with art and photography that might be discussed with advantage--such as
composition, arrangement of accessories, size, form, character, and
fitness of the things employed; but I leave all these for another
opportunity, or to someone more able to handle the subjects. For the
present, I am content to point out those errors that arise from
neglecting true perspective, and while showing the cause, distinctively
supply a remedy.

It is not the fault of perspective in the background where the lines are
not in harmony with each other--these too frequently occur, and are
easily detected--but it is the error of painting a pictorial background
as if it were an independent picture, without reference to the
conditions under which it is to be used. The conditions of perspective
are determined by the situation of the lens and the sitter. If the
actual objects existed behind the sitter, and were photographed
simultaneously with the sitter, the same laws of perspective would
govern the two. What I urge is, that if, instead of the objects, a
representation of them be put behind the sitter, that representation be
also a correct one. The laws of perspective teach how it may be made
correctly, and the starting point is the position of the lens in
relation to the sitter.

Some may say that these conditions of painting a background cannot be
complied with, as the lens and sitter are never twice exactly in the
same relation to each other. There is less force in this objection than
at first appears. Each photographer uses the same lens for all his
_carte_ portraits--and pictorial backgrounds are very frequently used
for these--and the height of his camera, as well as the distance from
his sitter, are so nearly constant, that the small amount of errors thus
caused need not be recognized. If the errors that exist were not far
more grave, there would be no necessity for this paper. Exceptional
pictures should have corresponding backgrounds.

When a "sitter" is photographed standing in front of a pictorial
background, the photograph will represent him either standing in a
natural scene, or before a badly-painted picture. Nobody should
wittingly punish his sitter by doing the latter when he could do the
former, and the first step to form the desirable illusion is pictorial
truth. There is no reason why the backgrounds should not be painted
truthfully and according to correct principles, for the one is as easy
as the other. I daresay the reason is that artists have not
intentionally done wrong--it would be too bad to suppose that--but they
have treated the backgrounds as independent pictures, and it is for
photographers to make what use of them they think proper. The real
principles are, however, now stated, by which they can be painted so as
to be more photographically useful, and artists and photographers have
alike the key to pictorial truth.

In conclusion, I would suggest to photographers the necessity of
studying nature more carefully--to observe her in their walks abroad, to
notice the gradual decrease of objects both in size and distinctness, to
remember that their lens is to their camera what their eye is to
themselves, to give as faithful a transcript of nature as they possibly
can, to watch the flow of nature's lines, as well as natural light and
shade, and, by a constant study and exhibition of truth and beauty in
their works, make photography eventually the teacher of art, instead of
art, as is now the case, being the reviler of photography.


PERSPECTIVE.

_To the Editors._

Gentlemen,--At the end of Mr. Alfred H. Wall's reply to Mr. Carey Lea's
letter on _Artists and Photographers_, I notice that he cautions your
readers not to receive the very simple rules of perspective laid down in
my paper, entitled _Errors in Pictorial Backgrounds_, until they have
acquired more information on the subject. Allow me to state that all I
said on perspective in that paper only went to show that there should be
but one horizon in the same picture; that the lines of all objects
_below_ that horizon should run up to it; that the lines of all objects
_above_ should run down, no matter where that _one_ horizon was placed;
and that the horizon of the landscape background should be in due
relation to the sitter and on a level with the eye of the observer, the
observer being either the lens or the painter.

If your correspondent considers that I was in error by laying down such
plain and common sense rules, which everyone can see and judge for
himself by looking down a street, then I freely admit that your
correspondent knows a great deal more about _false_ perspective than I
do, or should like to do.

Again, if your correspondent cannot see why I "volunteered to instruct
artists" or painters of backgrounds, perhaps he will allow me to inform
him that I did so simply because background painters have hitherto
supplied photographers with backgrounds totally unfit for use in the
photographic studio.

In spite of Mr. Wall's assumption of superior knowledge on subjects
relating to art, I may still be able to give him a hint how to produce a
pictorial background that will be much more natural, proportionate, and
suitable for the use of photographers than any hitherto painted.

Let Mr. Wall, or any other background painter, go _out_ with the camera
and take a _carte-de-visite_ portrait out-of-doors, placing the subject
in any well-chosen and suitable natural scene, and photograph the
"sitter" and the natural scene at the same time. Then bring the picture
so obtained into his studio and enlarge it up to "life-size," which he
can easily do by the old-fashioned system of "squaring," or, better
still, by the aid of a magic lantern, and with the help of a sketch of
the scene as well, to enable him to fill in correctly that part of the
landscape concealed by the figure taken on the spot; so that, when
reproduced by the photographer in _his_ studio, he will have a
representation of a natural scene, with everything seen in the
background in correct perspective, and in natural proportions in
relation to the "sitter." This will also show how _few_ objects can
naturally be introduced into a landscape background; and if the distant
scenery be misty and undefined, so much the better. It is the sharpness,
hardness, and superabundance of subjects introduced into pictorial
backgrounds generally that I object to, and endeavoured to point out in
my paper; and I consider it no small compliment to have had my views on
that part of my subject so emphatically endorsed by so good an authority
as Mr. Wallis, in his remarks on backgrounds at the last meeting of the
South London Photographic Society.

I make no pretensions to the title of "artist," although I studied
perspective, drawing from the flat and round, light and shade, and other
things in connection with a branch of art which I abandoned many years
ago for the more lucrative profession of a photographer. Were I so
disposed, I could quote Reynolds, Burnett, and Ruskin as glibly as your
correspondent; but I prefer putting my own views on any subject before
my readers in language of my own.

I endeavour to be in all my words and actions thoroughly independent and
consistent, which is more than I can say for your correspondent "A. H.
W." In proof of which, I should like to call the attention of your
readers to a passage in his "Practical Art Hints," in the last issue of
_The British Journal of Photography_, where he says:--"It is perversion
and degradation to an art like ours to make its truth and unity
subservient to conventional tricks, shams, and mechanical dodges," while
at the last meeting of the South London Photographic Society, when
speaking of backgrounds, he admitted they were _all conventional_.

Now, that is just what we do not want, and which was the chief object I
had in view when I wrote my paper. We have had too many of those
art-conventional backgrounds, and want something more in accordance with
natural truth and the requirements of photography.

In conclusion, allow me to observe that I should be truly sorry were I
to mislead anyone in the pursuit of knowledge relative to our
profession, either artistically or photographically. But let it be borne
in mind that it is admitted on all sides, and by the best authorities,
that nearly all the pictorial backgrounds now in use are quite
unnatural, and totally unsuited for the purposes for which they are
intended. Therefore the paper I read will have done the good I intended,
and answered the purpose for which it was written, if it has been the
means of calling attention to such glaring defects and absurdities as
are now being perpetrated by background painters, and bringing in their
place more natural, truthful, and photographically useful backgrounds
into the studios of all photographers.--I am, yours, &c.,

J. Werge.

_February 10th, 1866._


PERSPECTIVE IN BACKGROUNDS.

_To the Editors._

Gentlemen,--I must beg of you to allow me to reply to Mr. Wall once
more, and for the last time, on this subject, especially as that
gentleman expects an answer from me.

To put myself into a fair position with regard to Mr. Wall and your
readers, I will reply to the latter part of his letter first, by stating
that I endeavour to avoid all personality in this discussion, and should
be sorry to descend to anything of the kind knowingly. When I spoke of
"independency and consistency," I had not in view anything relative to
his private character, but simply that kind of independence which
enables a man to trust to his own powers of utterance for the
expression of his ideas, instead of that incessant quoting the language
of others, to which your correspondent, Mr. Wall, is so prone. As to his
inconsistency, I mean that tendency which he exhibits to advocate a
principle at one time, and denounce it at another. I shall prove that
presently. Towards Mr. Wall, personally, I have neither animosity nor
pique, and would take him by the hand as freely and frankly as ever I
did were I to meet him at this moment. With his actions as a private
gentleman I have nothing to do. I look upon him now as a controvertist
only. So far, I hope I have made myself clearly understood by Mr. Wall
and all concerned.

I also should like to have had so important a question discussed without
introducing so much of that frivolous smartness of style generally
adopted by Mr. Wall. But, as he has introduced two would-be-funny
similes, I beg to dispose of them before going into more serious matter.
Taking the "butcher" first (see the fifth paragraph in Mr. Wall's last
letter), I should say that, if I were _eating_ the meat, I should be
able to judge of its quality, and know whether it was good or bad, in
spite of all the butcher might say to the contrary; and surely, no man
not an out-and-out vegetarian, or lacking one of the five senses--to say
nothing of _common sense_--will admit that it is _necessary_ to be a
"butcher" to enable him to be a judge of good meat. On the same ground,
I contend that it is _not_ necessary for a man to be an artist to have a
thorough knowledge of perspective; and I have known many artists who
knew as little about perspective, practically, as their easel did. They
had a vague and dreamy idea of some governing principles, but how to put
those principles into practice they had not the slightest notion. I once
met an artist who could not put a tesselated pavement into perspective,
and yet he had some right to the title of artist, for he could draw and
paint the human figure well. Perspective is based on geometrical
principles, and can be as easily mastered by any man not an artist as
the first book of Euclid, or the first four rules of arithmetic; and,
for all that, it is astonishing how many artists know so little about
the working rules of perspective.

Again: Mr. Wall is surely not prepared to advance the dictum that no one
can know anything about art but a professional artist. If so, how does
he reconcile that opinion with the fact of his great and oft-quoted
authority, Ruskin, not being an artist, but simply, in his public
character, a voluminous writer on art, not always right, as many artists
and photographers very well know.

Mr. Wall objects to my use of the word "artist," but he seems to have
overlooked the fact that I used the quotation marks to show that I meant
to apply it to the class of self-styled artists, or men who arrogate to
themselves a title they do not merit--not such men as Landseer, Maclise,
Faed, Philips, Millais, and others of, and not of, the "Forty." Mr. Wall
may be an artist. I do not say he is not. He also is, or was, a painter
of backgrounds. So he can apply to himself whichever title he likes
best; but whether he deserves either one or the other, depends on what
he has done to merit the appellative.

Mr. Wall questions the accuracy of the principles I advocated in my
paper. I contend that I am perfectly correct, and am the more astonished
at Mr. Wall when I refer to vol. v., page 123, of the _Photographic
News_. There I find, in an article bearing his own name, and entitled
"The Technology of Art as Applied to Photography," that he says:--

"If you make use of a painted cloth to represent an interior or out-door
view, the horizontal line must be at somewhere about the height which
your lens is most generally placed at, and the vanishing point nearly
opposite the spot occupied by the camera. * * * * I have just said that
the horizon of a landscape background and the vanishing point should be
opposite the lens; I may, perhaps, for the sake of such operators as
are not acquainted with perspective, explain why. The figure and the
background are supposed to be taken at one and the same time, and the
camera has the place of the spectator by whom they are taken. Now,
suppose we have a real figure before a real landscape: if I look up at a
figure I obtain one view of it, but if I look down on it, I get another
and quite a different view, and the horizon of the natural landscape
behind the figure is always exactly the height of _my_ eye. To prove
this, you may sit down before a window, and mark on the glass the height
of the horizon; then rise, and, as you do so, you will find the horizon
also rises, and is again exactly opposite your eye. A picture, then, in
which the horizontal line of the background represents the spectator as
looking up at the figure from a position near the base line, while the
figure itself indicates that the same spectator is at that identical
time standing with his eyes on a level with the figure's breast or
chin--such productions are evidently false to art, and untrue to nature.
* * * * The general fault in the painted screens we see behind
photographs arises from introducing too many objects."

Now, as I advanced neither more nor less in my paper, why does Mr. Wall
turn round and caution your readers not to receive such simple truths
uttered by me? I was not aware that Mr. Wall had forestalled me in
laying down such rules; for at that date I was in America, and did not
see the _News_; but, on turning over the volume for 1861 the other day,
since this discussion began, I there saw and read, with surprise, the
above in his article on backgrounds. I am perfectly aware that I did not
say all that I might have said on perspective in my paper; but the
little I did say was true in principle, and answered my purpose.

When Mr. Wall (in the second paragraph of his last letter) speaks of the
"principal visual ray going from the point of distance to the point of
sight, and forming a right angle to the perspective plane," it seems to
me that he is not quite sure of the difference between the points of
_sight_, _distance_, and _observation_, or of the relation and
application of one to the other. However, his coming articles on
perspective will settle that. It also appears to me that he has
overlooked the fact that my diagrams were _sections_, showing the
perspective inclination and declination of the lines of a parallelogram
towards the point of sight. In my paper I said nothing about the _point
of distance_; with that I had nothing to do, as it was not my purpose to
go into all the dry details of perspective. But I emphatically deny that
anything like a "bird's eye view" of the figure could possibly be
obtained by following any of the rules I laid down. In my paper I
contended for the camera being placed on a level with the head of the
sitter, and that would bring the line of the horizon in a pictorial
background also as high as the head of the sitter. And if the horizon of
the pictorial background were placed anywhere else, it would cause the
apparent overlapping of _two_ conditions of perspective in the resulting
photograph. These were the errors I endeavoured to point out. I maintain
that my views are perfectly correct, and can be proved by geometrical
demonstration, and the highest artistic and scientific testimony.

I wish it to be clearly understood that I do not advocate the use of
pictorial backgrounds, and think I pretty strongly denounced them; but
if they _must_ be used by photographers, either to please themselves or
their customers, let them, for the credit of our profession, be as true
to nature as possible.

I think I have now answered all the points worth considering in Mr.
Wall's letter, and with this I beg to decline any further correspondence
on the subject.--I am, yours, &c.,

J. Werge.

_March 5th, 1866._


NOTES ON PICTURES IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY.

In the following notes on some of the pictures in the National Gallery,
it is not my intention to assume the character of an art-critic, but
simply to record the impressions produced on the mind of a photographer
while looking at the works of the great old masters, with the view of
calling the attention of photographers and others interested in
art-photography to a few of the pictures which exhibit, in a marked
degree, the relation of the horizon to the principal figures.

During an examination of those grand old pictures, two questions
naturally arise in the mind: What is conventionality in art? and--In
whose works do we see it? The first question is easily answered by
stating that it is a mode of treating pictorial subjects by established
rule or custom, so as to obtain certain pictorial effects without taking
into consideration whether such effects can be produced by natural
combinations or not. In answer to the second question, it may be boldly
stated that there is very little of it to be seen in the works of the
best masters; and one cannot help exclaiming, "What close imitators of
nature those grand old masters were!" In their works we never see that
photographic eye-sore which may be called a binographic combination of
two conditions of perspective, or the whereabouts of two horizons in the
same picture.

The old masters were evidently content with natural combinations and
effects for their backgrounds, and relied on the rendering of natural
truths more than conventional falsehoods for the strength and beauty of
their productions. Perhaps the simplest mode of illustrating this would
be to proceed to a kind of photographic analysis of the pictures of the
old masters, and see how far the study of their works will enable the
photographer to determine what he should employ and what he should
reject as pictorial backgrounds in the practice of photography. As a
photographer, then--for it is the photographic application of art we
have to consider--I will proceed to give my notes on pictures in the
National Gallery, showing the importance of having the horizontal line
in its proper relation to the sitter or figure.

Perhaps the most beautiful example is the fine picture by Annibale
Carracci of "Christ appearing to Peter." This admirable work of art as
nearly as possible contains the proportions of a carte-de-visite or
whole-plate picture enlarged, and is well worthy the careful attention
and study of every photographer; not only for its proportions and the
amount of landscape background introduced, showing the proper position
of the horizon and the small amount of sky visible, but it is a
wonderful example of light and shade, foreshortening, variety and
contrast of expression, purity of colour, simplicity of design, and
truthfulness to nature. Neither of the figures lose any of their force
or dignity, although the horizontal line is as high as their heads, and
the whole of the space between is filled in with the scene around them.
In its linear perspective it is quite in keeping with the figures, and
the scenery is in harmonious subjection, controlled and subdued by
aerial perspective.

The large picture of "Erminia takes refuge with the Shepherds," by the
same artist, is also a fine example of a horizon high in the picture.
The figure of Erminia is separated from the other figures, and could be
copied or reproduced alone without any loss of beauty and dignity, or
any violation of natural laws.

Murillo's picture of "St. John and the Lamb" suggests an admirable
background for the use of the photographer. It consists of dark masses
of rock and foliage. Nothing distinct or painfully visible, the distant
masses of foliage blend with the clouds, and there is nothing in the
background but masses of light and shade to support or relieve the
principal objects.

In the picture of "Christ appearing to Mary Magdalene," by Titian, the
water-line is above the head of Christ, but if the figure were standing
upright, the head of the Saviour would break the horizontal line.

Titian's "Bacchus and Ariadne" also has the water-line breast high,
almost to the neck of Ariadne. The figure of Bacchus springing from the
car, as a matter of course, is much higher in the sky. This picture
presents the perspective conditions of the painter having been seated
while painting such figures from nature, or similar to the results and
effects obtained by taking a group with the lens on a level with the
breast or lower part of the necks of figures standing.

In Titian's portrait of Ariosto there is a dark foliated background
which gives great brilliancy to the picture, but no sky is visible. The
"Portrait of a Lady," by Paris Bardone, has an architectural background
in which no sky is to be seen. The picture is very brilliant, and the
monotony of a plain background is skilfully overcome.

The picture of "St. Catharine of Alexandria," by Raphael, has a
landscape background, with the horizon about as high as the breast, as
if the artist had been seated and the model standing during the process
of painting.

Raphael's picture of "The Vision of a Knight" is another example of the
fearlessness of that artist in putting in or backing up his figures with
a large amount of landscape background.

The proportions of Correggio's "Venus, Mercury, and Cupid," are as
nearly as possible those of a carte-de-visite enlarged; and that picture
has no sky in the background, but a very suitable dark, cool, rocky
scene, well subdued, for the rocks are quite near to the figures. This
background gives wonderful brilliancy to the figures, and contrasts
admirably with the warm and delicate flesh tints.

Correggio's "Holy Family" has a landscape and architectural background,
with a very little sky visible in the right-hand corner.

In the "Judgment of Paris," by Rubens, the horizontal line of the
background cuts the waist of the first female figure, showing that the
artist was seated. The other two female figures are placed against a
background of rocks and dark masses of foliage. Rubens' picture of the
"Holy Family and St. George" is also a good example of the kind of
picture for the photographer to study as to the situation of the
horizontal line.

The picture of "The Idle Servant," by Nicolaes Maes, is also an
excellent subject for study of this kind. It shows the due relation of
the horizon of an interior in a very marked degree, and its shape and
subject are very suitable to the size and form of a carte-de-visite. So
are his pictures of "The Cradle" and "A Dutch Housewife."

The picture of "John Arnolfini of Lucca and his Wife," painted by John
Van Eyck in the fifteenth century, is an excellent specimen of an
interior background, with a peep out of a window on one side of the
room. This is a capital subject for the study of photographers who wish
to use a background representing an interior.

"The Holy Family at a Fountain," a picture of the Dutch school, painted
by Schoorel in the sixteenth century, has an elaborate landscape
background with the horizon above the heads of the figures, as if the
artist had been standing and the models sitting.

For an example of a portrait less than half-length, with a landscape
background, look at the portrait of "An Italian Gentleman," by Andrea da
Solario. This picture shows how very conscientiously the old masters
worked up to the truth of nature in representing the right amount of
landscape in proportion to the figure; but the background is much too
hard and carefully worked out to be pleasing. Besides, it is very
destructive to the force and power of the picture, which will be at once
visible on going to the portraits by Rembrandt, which have a marvellous
power, and seem to stand right before the dark atmospheric backgrounds
which that artist generally painted in his portraits.

There are other examples of half-length portraits with landscape
backgrounds, wherein the horizontal line passes right through the eyes
of the principal figure, one of which I will mention. It is that of the
"Virgin and Child," by Lorenzo di Credi. In this picture the horizontal
line passes right through the eyes of the Virgin without interfering
with the interest of the chief object.

Several examples of an opposite character are to be seen in the National
Gallery, with the horizon of the landscape background much too low in
the picture. It is needless to call special attention to them. After
carefully examining the works already named, and comparing them with the
natural effects to be observed daily, it will be quickly seen which is a
truthful picture in this respect, and which is a false one.


SHARPNESS AND SOFTNESS _V._ HARDNESS.

The discussion on "Sharpness: what is it?" at the meeting of the South
London Photographic Society in May, 1861, and the more recent discussion
on "Focussing" at the last meeting of the same Society, seem to me to
have lost much of their value and importance to photographers for want
of a better definition of the term _hardness_ as applied to art, and as
used by _artists_ in an _artistic sense_. Webster, in his second
definition of the word "hardness," gives it as "difficulty to be
understood." In that sense Mr. Wall succeeded admirably when he gave
the term _concentration_, in reply to Mr. Hughes, who asked Mr. Wall
what he meant by _hardness_. Fairholt gives the _art meaning_ of the
word as "want of refinement; academic drawing, rather than artistic
feeling." But even that definition would not have been sufficiently
comprehensive to convey an adequate idea of the meaning of the term in
contradistinction to the word _sharpness_, and I cannot but think that
Mr. Wall failed in his object in both papers, and lost considerable
ground in both discussions, by not giving more attention to the nice
distinctions of the two terms as used in art, and explaining their
artistic meanings more clearly.

Sharpness need not be hardness; on the contrary, sharpness and softness
can be harmoniously combined in the representation of any object
desired. On the other hand, a subject may possess abundance of detail,
and yet convey to the mind an idea of _hardness_ which the artist did
not intend. This kind of hardness I should attribute to a miscarriage of
thought, or a failure, from want of manipulative skill, to produce the
desired effect. For example: one artist will paint a head, model it
carefully, and carry out all the gradations of light and shade, and for
all that it will be _hard_--hard as stone, resembling the transcript of
a painted statue more than flesh. With the same brushes and colours
another artist will paint a head that may be no better in its drawing,
nor any more correct in its light and shade, but it will resemble
_flesh_, and convey to the mind of the observer a correct impression of
the substance represented--its flexibility and elasticity--that it is
something that would be warm and pleasant to the touch, and not make you
recoil from it as if it were something cold, hard, and repulsive, as in
the former case. Again, two artists will paint a fabric or an article of
furniture (say a table) with the same brushes, pigments, and mediums:
the one artist will render it so faithfully in every respect that it
would suggest to the mind the dull sound peculiar to wood when struck,
and not the sharp, clear ring of metal which the work of the other
artist would suggest.

Another example: one artist paints a feather, and it appears to have all
the feathery lightness and characteristics of the natural object; the
other will paint it the same size, form, and colour, and yet it will be
more like a painted chip, wanting the downy texture and float-in-the-air
suggestiveness of the other. Thus it will be seen that both artists had
similar ideas, had similar materials and means at their disposal to
render on canvas the same or similar effects. The one succeeded, and the
other failed, in giving a faithful rendering of the same subjects; but
it was no fault in the materials with which they worked. The works of
one artist will convey to the mind an idea of the thing itself; with its
texture, properties, weight, and proportions; nothing undervalued;
nothing overrated, nothing softer, nothing harder, than the thing in
nature intended to be portrayed. The other gives the same idea of form
and size, light and shade, and colour, but not the texture; it is
something harder, as iron instead of wood, or hard wood instead of soft
wood, or stone instead of flesh. This, then, is the artistic meaning of
hardness (or concentration, as Mr. Wall said), and that is an apparent
packing together, a compression or petrifaction of the atoms or fibre of
which the natural materials are composed. This difference in the works
of artists is simply the effects of _feeling_, of power over the
materials employed, and ability to transfer to canvas effects that are
almost illusions. And so it is with photographers in the production of
the photographic image. There is the same difference in feeling and
manipulative skill, the same difference of power over the materials
employed, that enables one photographer to surpass another in rendering
more truthfully the difference of texture. Photographers may and do use
the same lenses and chemicals, and yet produce widely different results.
One, by judgment in lighting and superior manipulation, will transfer to
his plates more texture and suggestiveness of the different substances
represented than the other. It is a fact well known to old photographers
that in the best days of the Daguerreotype practice two widely
different classes of pictures were produced by the most skilful
_Daguerreotypists_, both sharp and full of exquisite detail; yet the one
was _hard_, in an artistic sense, not that it wanted half-tone to link
the lights and shades together, but because it was of a bronzy
hardness, unlike flesh from which it was taken, and suggested to the
mind a picture taken from a bronze or iron statue of the individual,
rather than a picture taken from the warm, soft flesh of the original.
The other would be equally sharp as far as focussing and _sharp lenses_
could make it, and possess as much detail, but it would be different in
colour and texture; the detail would be soft, downy, and fleshy, not
irony, if I may use that word in such a sense; and this difference of
effect arose entirely from a difference of feeling, lighting,
preparation of the plate, and development of the pictures. They might
all use the best of Voightlander's or C. C. Harrison's lenses, the
favourite lenses of that day. They might all use the same make of
plates, the same iodine, bromine, and mercury, yet there would be this
difference in the character of the two classes of pictures. Both would
be sharp and possess abundance of detail, still one would be _soft_ and
the other hard in an artistic acceptation of the word _hardness_.

Collodion positives exhibited a similar difference of character. The
works of one photographer would be cold and metallic looking, while the
works of another would be softer and less metallic, giving a better idea
of the texture of flesh and the difference of fabrics, which many
attributed to the superiority of the lens; but the difference was really
due to manipulation, treatment, and intelligence. And so it is with the
collodion negative. A tree, for instance, may be photographed, and its
whole character changed by selecting a bad and unsuitable light, or by
bad manipulation. The least over-development or "piling up" of a high
light may give it a sparkling effect that would change it into the
representation of a tree of cast iron, rather than a _growing tree_,
covered with damp, soft, and moss-stained bark. Every object and every
fabric, natural or manufactured, has its own peculiar form of "high
light" or mode of reflecting light, and care must be taken by both
artist and photographer not to exceed the amount of light reflected by
each particular object, else a _hardness_, foreign to the natural
object, will be represented. But not only should the artist and
photographer possess this feeling for nature in all her subtle beauties
and modes of expressing herself, to prevent a miscarriage in the true
rendering of any object, the photographic printer should also have a
sympathy for the work in hand, or he will, by over-fixing, or in various
other ways, mar the successful labours of the photographer, and make a
negative that is full of softness, and tenderly expresses the truth of
nature, yield prints that are crude, and convey to the mind a sense of
_hardness_ which neither the natural objects nor the negative really
possess.

Now, I think it will be seen that _hardness_ in a painting or a
photograph does not mean sharpness; nor is the artistic meaning of the
word _hardness_ confined to "rigid or severe drawing," but that it has a
broader and more practical definition than concentration; and that the
converse to the art meaning of _hardness_ is softness, tenderness,
truthfulness in expressing the varied aspects of nature in all her
forms, all of which are coincident with sharpness.--J. Werge
(_Photographic News_).


UNION OF THE NORTH AND SOUTH LONDON PHOTOGRAPHIC SOCIETIES.

_To the Editors, British Journal._

Gentlemen,--Allow me to express my opinion on the suggestion to unite
the North and South London Societies, and to point out a few of the
advantages which, I think, would accrue from a more extensive
amalgamation.

Though I am a member of all the three London photographic societies, I
have long been of opinion that there are too many, and that the objects
of all are considerably weakened by such a diffusion of interests. If
the furtherance of the art and the free and mutual interchange of
thought and experience among the members were the only things
considered, there would be but one society in London; and with one
society embodying all the members that now make the three, how much more
good might be done!

In the first place, the amounts now paid for rent by the three would, if
united, secure an excellent meeting room or chambers, in a central
position, for the _exclusive_ use of the society, where the ordinary and
special meetings, annual exhibitions, and _soirées_ could be held much
more independently than now, and at a cost little or no more than what
is now paid for the privilege of holding the ordinary meetings alone.

Secondly: If such a place of meeting were secured, then that laudable
scheme of an art library, so strenuously advocated by Mr. Wall and Mr.
Blanchard at the South London Photographic Society, might be
successfully carried into effect. Then a library and a collection of
works of art might be gradually gathered together, and one of the
members could be chosen curator and librarian, to attend the rooms one
evening in the week, or oftener, as circumstances might require, so as
to give members access to the library to make exchanges, extracts from
bulky books, &c.

Thirdly: If the union were effected, and the place of meeting more
central, there would be a larger attendance of members, and more
spirited and valuable proceedings would be the result. Papers to be read
at the regular meetings would be much more certain, and the discussions
would be more comprehensive and complete. The members would become
personally acquainted with each other, and a much better feeling would
pervade the whole photographic community.

These, gentlemen, are a few of the advantages which ought to accrue from
a union of the three societies; but, if that cannot be effected, by all
means let the triumvirate now existing be reduced to a biumvirate. If it
be not possible for the "Parent Society" and her offspring to reunite
their interests and affection for the common good, surely the other two
can, and thereby strengthen themselves, and secure to their members a
moiety of the advantages which would result from the triple alliance.

But, before proceeding farther, let me ask--Has such a thing as a triple
alliance ever been considered? Has it been ascertained that an amicable
amalgamation with the Photographic Society of London is impossible? If
so, what are the motives of the proposers of the union of the North and
South London Societies? Do they wish to form a more powerful antagonism
to the other society, or do they simply and purely wish to further the
advancement of our art-science, and not to gratify personal pique or
wounded pride? I do not wish to impute such unworthy motives to anyone;
but it does seem singular that the proposition should come from the
Chairman of the North London Photographic Association almost
simultaneously with the resignation of his seat at the council board of
the Parent Society.

If, however, the motives are pure, honest, and earnest, I heartily
approve of the suggestion as a step in the right direction, although I
candidly admit that I would much rather see all the societies united in
one, and fully believe that that would be the most advantageous
arrangement that could possibly be made for all concerned.--I am,
yours, &c.,

Union Jack (J. Werge).

_London, February 18th, 1867._


UNION OF THE LONDON PHOTOGRAPHIC SOCIETIES.

_To the Editors of the British Journal._

Gentlemen,--Perhaps I am in courtesy bound to answer the questions of
your correspondents, Mr. Homersham and "Blue Pendant," but in
self-justification I do not think it necessary, for it turns out that my
suspicions of antagonism to the Parent Society were well founded; and,
from their remarks, and the observations of your contributor "D.," I
learn that the disaffection is more widely spread than I at first
thought it was.

I may have been wrong in suspecting the Chairman of the North London
Photographic Association of unworthy motives; if so, I frankly beg that
gentleman's pardon. But I am not wrong in suspecting that antagonism is
mixed up with the movement.

Your contributor "D." chooses to construe my unwillingness to make a
direct charge--my hope that there were no such unworthy motives--into
timidity; but I beg to remind "D." that there is not much, if any, of
that apparent in my putting the plain questions I did, which,
by-the-by, have not yet been very satisfactorily answered.

I flatter myself that I know when and how to do battle, and when to sue
for peace, as well as any in the service under whose flag I have the
honour to sail; and I, as much as anyone, admire the man that can fight
courageously when in the right, or apologise gracefully when in the
wrong; but, as the object of this correspondence is neither to make
recriminations, nor indulge in personal abuse, I return to the primary
consideration of the subject, and endeavour to sift the motives of the
movers of the proposition to unite the North and South London Societies,
and ascertain, if possible, whether they have the good of those
societies and the furtherance of photography really at heart or not.

_Imprimis_, then, let us consider the arguments of "D.," who cites the
resignation of three gentlemen in proof of the management of the London
Photographic Society being "out of joint." He might as well say,
"because a man is sick, leave him and let him die." If there were
anything they disliked in the government of the Society, or any evil to
be corrected, their most manly course was to have held on, and fought
the evils down. They all had seats at the Council board, and if they had
wished well to the Society, they would not have resigned them, but
battled for the right, and brought their grievances, real or imagined,
before the members. A special meeting has been called before now to
consider personal grievances which affected the honour of the Society,
and I should think it could have been done again. I do not maintain that
all is right in the Society, but I do think that they were wrong in
resigning their seats because an article appeared in the Society's
journal condemnatory of a process to which they happened to be devotedly
attached.

It can scarcely be supposed that the cause of reform, or the general
good of the country, would have been forwarded had Gladstone, Bright,
and Earl Russell resigned their seats as members of either House because
they could not carry their ministerial bill of last session. From this I
argue that men who have the object they advocate, and the "best
interests" of the Society, thoroughly at heart, will stick to it
tenaciously, whether in or out of office, and, by their watchfulness,
prevent bad becoming worse, in spite of captious opposition, fancied
insults, or journalistic abuse.

The next paragraph by "D." on which I shall comment contains that bold
insinuation of timidity, which I have already noticed as much as I
intend to do. But I wish to discuss the question of "absorption" a
little more fully. I cannot at all agree with the sentiments of "D." on
that subject. Absorption is in many instances a direct and positive
advantage to both the absorber and absorbed, as the absorption of Sicily
by Italy, and Frankfort and Hanover by Prussia. Nitric acid absorbs
silver, and how much more valuable and useful to the photographer is the
product than either of the two in their isolated condition; and so, I
hold, it would be with the Society were the two other Societies to join
the old one, impart to it their chief characteristics, re-model the
constitution, and elect the members of the Council by ballot. We should
then have a society far more powerful and useful than could ever be
obtained by the formation of a new one.

In the foregoing, I think I have also answered the question of Mr.
Homersham, as well as that part of "Blue Pendant's" letter relating to
the establishment of a _fourth_ society. On that point my views
harmonise with those of your contributor, "D."

On the subject of "members of Council," I do not agree with either "D."
or your correspondent "Blue Pendant." The Council should be elected from
and by the body of members, and the only qualifications necessary should
be willingness and ability to do the work required. No consideration of
class should ever be admitted. The members are all recommended by
"personal knowledge," and elected by ballot, and that alone should be
test sufficient on the score of respectability.

Concerning "papers written as puffs," I cordially agree with "Blue
Pendant" as far as he goes; but I go further than that, and would insist
on each paper being scrutinised, before it is read, by a committee
appointed for the purpose, so as to prevent "trade advertisements" and
such shamefully scurrilous papers as I have heard at the South London
Photographic Society.

With reference to the questions put by "Blue Pendant," I beg to decline
answering his second, it not being pertinent; but I shall reply to his
first more particularly. He seems to have forgotten or overlooked the
fact that I thought the advantages I enumerated would result from a
union of the _three_ societies--not from an alliance of the two only.
That I still look upon suspiciously as antagonistic to the Parent
Society; and "Blue Pendant's" antagonism is proved beyond doubt when he
says it is "tottering to its fall," and he almost gloatingly looks
forward to its dissolution coming, to use his own words, "sooner or
later," and "perhaps the sooner the better." But I venture to think that
"Blue Pendant" is not likely to be gratified by seeing the "aged Parent"
decently laid in the ground in his time. There is too much "life in the
old dog yet"--even since the secession--for that to come to pass. It
cannot be denied that the Parent Society has amongst its members some
of the best speakers, thinkers, writers, and workers in the whole
photographic community.

While discussing this subject, allow me, gentlemen, to advert to an
article in your contemporary of Friday last. In the "Echoes of the
Month," by an Old Photographer, the writer thinks that the advantages I
pointed out as likely to accrue from a union of the societies are a
"pleasant prospect that will not bear the test of figures." It is a fact
that "figures" are subject to the rules of addition as well as of
subtraction, and I wish to show by figures that my ideas are not so
impracticable as he imagines. In addition to the eight guineas a year
paid by the North and South London Photographic Societies for rent, I
notice in the report of the London Photographic Society, published last
month, two items in the "liabilities" which are worth considering. One
is "King's College, rent and refreshment, £42 4s. 6d.," which, I
presume, is for one year. The other is "King's College _soirée_ account,
£20 15s. 6d.," part of which is undoubtedly for rent of rooms on that
occasion. Now there is a clear showing of over £50 12s. 6d. paid in one
year by the three societies for rent and refreshment, the latter not
being absolutely necessary. I may be mistaken in my estimate of the
value of central property; but I do think a sum exceeding £50 is
sufficient to secure a room or chambers large enough for the purposes of
meeting, and keeping a library, &c.; or, if not, would it not be worth
while making a strain to pay a little more so as to secure the
accommodation required? If the Coventry Street experiment were a failure
from apathy or other causes, that is no proof that another attempt made
by a more numerous, wealthy, and energetic body would also be abortive.
In sea phraseology, "the old ship has made a long leg to-day!" but I
hope, gentlemen, you will not grudge the space required for the full and
careful consideration of this subject. The "developing dish" and the
ordinary _modus operandi_ of photography can well afford to stand aside
for awhile to have this question discussed to the end. I have not said
all I can on the amalgamation project, and may return to it again with
your kind permission, if necessary.--I am, yours, &c.,

Union Jack (J. Werge).

_London, March 4, 1867._


THE SOCIETY'S EXHIBITION.

Impressions and Convictions of "Lux Graphicus."

The brief and all but impromptu Exhibition of the Photographic Society,
recently held in the rooms of the Architectural Society, 9, Conduit
Street, Regent Street, where the Society's meetings are to be held in
future, was one of the pleasantest and most useful expositions in
connection with photography that has been consummated for many years. In
the first place the idea of an exhibition evening free from the
formalities of a _soirée_ was a happy one; the _locale_ was happily
chosen; and the whole arrangements most happily successful. Everybody
seemed to be pleased; cordial expressions of agreeable surprise were
freely exchanged; and there were abundance and variety enough of
pictorial display to satisfy the most fastidious visitor.

As might have been expected, the works of M. Salomon, exhibited by
Mr. Wharton Simpson, were the chief objects of attraction, and
during the whole of the evening an anxious group surrounded the
collection; and it was curious to remark with what eagerness these
pictures were scrutinized, so as to ascertain whether they were
examples of photography "pure and undefiled," or helped by artistic
labour afterwards. That they are the very finest specimens of
art-photography--both in the broad and masterly treatment of light and
shade, pose, manipulation, tone of print, and after finish--that have
ever been exhibited, is unquestionable; but to suppose that they are
photographs unaided by art-labour afterwards is, I think, a mistake. All
of the heads, hands, and portions of the drapery bear unmistakable
proofs of after-touching. Some of them give evidence of most elaborate
retouching on the hands and faces, on the surface of the print. I
examined the pictures by daylight most minutely with the aid of a
magnifying glass, and could detect the difference between the retouching
on the negative, and, after printing, on the positive. The faces of
nearly all the ladies present that appearance of dapple or "stipple"
which nothing in the texture of natural flesh can give, unless the
sitter were in the condition of "goose flesh" at the moment of sitting,
which is a condition of things not at all likely. Again, hatching is
distinctly visible, which is not the photographic reproduction of the
hatch-like line of the cuticle. In support of that I have two forms of
evidence: first, _comparison_, as the hatchings visible on the surface
of the print are too long to be a reproduction of the hatch-like
markings of the skin, even on the hands, which generally show that kind
of nature's handiwork the most. Besides, the immense reduction would
render that invisible even under a magnifying glass, no matter how
delicate the deposit of silver might be on the negative; or even if it
were so, the fibre of the paper would destroy the effect. Again, the
hatchings visible are not the form of nature's hatchings, but all
partake of that art-technical form called "sectional hatchings." I could
name several of the prints that showed most conclusive evidence of what
I say, but that is not necessary, because others saw these effects as
well as I did. But I wish it to be distinctly understood that I have not
been at the pains to make these examinations and observations with the
view of lessening the artistic merit of these pictures. I unhesitatingly
pronounce them the most beautiful achievements of the camera that have
ever been obtained by combining artistic knowledge and skill with the
mechanical aid of the camera and ability to handle the compounds of
photographic chemistry. There is unmistakable evidence of the keenest
appreciation of art, and all that is beautiful in it in the production
of the negative; and if the artist see or think that he can perfect his
work by the aid of the brush, he has a most undoubted right to do it.
This question of pure and simple photography has been mooted all the
summer, ever since the opening of the French Exhibition, and I am glad
that I, as well as others, have had an opportunity of seeing these
wonderful pictures, and judging for myself. Photography is truth
embodied, and every question raised about the purity of its productions
should be discussed as freely and settled as quickly as possible.

There was another picture in the exhibition very clever in its
conception, but not so in its execution, and I am sorry to say I cannot
endorse _all_ the good that has been said of it. I allude to Mr.
Robinson's picture of "Sleep." How that clever photographer, with such a
keen eye to nature as he generally manifests in his composition
pictures, should have committed such a mistake I am at a loss to know.
His picture of "Sleep" is so strangely untrue to nature, that he must
have been quite overcome by the "sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve
of _care_" when he composed it. In the centre of the picture he shows a
stream of light entering a window--a ghost of a window, for it is so
unsubstantial as not to allow a shadow to be cast from its _seemingly_
massive bars. Now, if the moon shone through a window at all, it would
cast shadows of everything that stood before it, and the shadows of the
bars of the window would be cast upon the coverlet of the bed in broken
lines, rising and falling with the undulations of the folds of the
covering, and the forms of the figures of the children. In representing
moonlight, or sunlight either, there is no departing from this truth. If
the direct ray of either stream through a closed window and fall upon
the bed, so will the shadows of the intervening bars. Any picture,
either painted or photographed, that does not render those shadows is
simply untrue to nature; and if the difficulty could not have been
overcome, the attempt should have been abandoned. Then the beams are not
sharp enough for moonlight, and the shadows on the coverlet and children
are not deep enough, and the reflections on the shadow side of the
children's faces are much too strong. In short, I do not know when Mr.
Robinson more signally failed to carry out his first intentions. Wanting
in truth as the composition is, it proves another truth, and that is,
the utter inability of photography to cope with such a subject. Mr.
Robinson exhibited other pictures that would bear a very different kind
of criticism; but as they have been noticed at other times I shall not
touch upon them here.

Herr Milster's picture bears the stamp of truth upon it, and is a
beautiful little gem, convincing enough that the effect is perfectly
natural.

Mr. Ayling's pictures of the Victoria Tower and a portion of Westminster
Abbey are really wonderful, and the bit of aerial perspective "Across
the Water" in the former picture is truly beautiful.

Mrs. Cameron persists in sticking to the out-of-the-way path she has
chosen, but where it will lead her to at last is very difficult to
determine. One of the heads of Henry Taylor which she exhibited was
undoubtedly the best of her contributions.

The pictures of yachts and interiors exhibited by Mr. Jabez Hughes were
quite equal to all that could be expected from the camera of that
clever, earnest, and indefatigable photographer. The portrait
enlargements exhibited by that gentleman were exquisite, and of a
totally different character from any other exhibitor's.

Mr. England's dry plate pictures, by his modified albumen process, are
undoubtedly the best of the kind that have been taken. They lack that
appearance of the representation of _petrified_ scenes that most, if
not all, previous dry processes exhibited, and look as "juicy" as "humid
nature" can well be rendered with the wet process.

Mr. Frank Howard exhibited four little gems that would be perfect but
for the unnatural effect of the artificial skies he has introduced. The
"Stranded Vessels" is nicely chosen, and one of the wood scenes is like
a bit of Creswick uncoloured.

Messrs. Locke and Whitfield exhibited some very finely and sketchily
coloured photographs, quite up to their usual standard of artistic
excellence, with the new feature of being painted on a ground of carbon
printed from the negative by the patent carbon process of Mr. J. W.
Swan.

Mr. Adolphus Wing's cabinet pictures were very excellent specimens, and
I think it a great pity that more of that very admirable style of
portraiture was not exhibited.

Mr. Henry Dixon's copy of Landseer's dog "Pixie," from the original
painting, was very carefully and beautifully rendered.

Mr. Faulkner's portraits, though of a very different character, were
quite equal in artistic excellence to M. Salomon's.

Mr. Bedford's landscapes presented their usual charm, and the tone of
his prints seemed to surpass the general beauty of his every-day work.

Mr. Blanchard also exhibited some excellent landscapes, and displayed
his usual happy choice of subject and point of sight.

An immense number of photographs by amateurs, Mr. Brownrigg, Mr.
Beasley, and others, were exhibited in folios and distributed about the
walls, but it is impossible for me to describe or criticise more.

I have already drawn my yarn a good length, and shall conclude by
repeating what I said at starting, that a pleasanter evening, or more
useful and instructive exhibition, has never been got up by the
Photographic Society of London, and it is to be hoped that the success
and _éclat_ attending it will encourage them to go and do likewise next
year, and every succeeding one of its natural life, which I doubt not
will be long and prosperous, for the exhibition just closed has given
unmistakable evidence of there being "life in the old dog yet."

_Photographic News, Nov. 22nd, 1867._


THE USE OF CLOUDS IN LANDSCAPES.

The subject of printing skies and cloud effects from separate negatives
having been again revived by the reading of papers on that subject at
the South London Photographic Society, I think it will not be out of
place now to call attention to some points that have not been commented
upon--or, at any rate, very imperfectly--by either the readers of the
papers or by the speakers at the meetings, when the subject was under
discussion.

The introduction of clouds in a landscape by an artist is not so much to
fill up the blank space above the object represented on the lower part
of the canvas or paper, as to assist in the composition of the picture,
both as regards linear and aerial perspective, and in the arrangement of
light and shade, so as to secure a just balance and harmony of the
whole, according to artistic principles.

Clouds are sometimes employed to repeat certain lines in the landscape
composition, so as to increase their strength and beauty, and to unite
the terrestrial part of the picture with the celestial. At other times
they are used to balance a composition, both in form and effect, to
prevent the picture being divided into two distinct and diagonal
portions, as evidenced in many of the pictures by Cuyp; on other
occasions they are introduced solely for chiaroscuro effects, so as to
enable the artist to place masses of dark upon light, and _vice versa_.
Of that use I think the works of Turner will afford the most familiar
and beautiful examples.

In the instances cited, I make no allusion to the employment of clouds
as repeaters of colour, but merely confine my remarks to their use in
assisting to carry out form and effect, either in linear composition, or
in the arrangement of light and shade in simple monochrome, as evidenced
in the engraved translations of the works of Rembrandt, Turner, Birket
Foster, and others, the study of those works being most applicable to
the practice of photography, and, therefore, offering the most valuable
hints to both amateur and professional photographers in the management
of their skies.

Before pursuing this part of my subject further, it may be as well,
perhaps, to state my general opinions of the effects of so-called
"natural skies," obtained by one exposure and one printing. Admitting
that they are a vast improvement on the white-sky style of the early
ages of photography, they fall far short of what they should be in
artistic effect and arrangement. In nearly all the "natural skies" that
I have seen, their office appears to be no other than to use up the
white paper above the terrestrial portion of the picture. The masses of
clouds, if there, seem always in the wrong place, and never made use of
for breadth of chiaroscuro.

No better illustrations of this can be adduced than those large
photographs of Swiss and Alpine scenery by Braun of Dornach, which
nearly all contain "natural clouds;" but, on looking them over, it will
be seen that few (if any) really exhibit that artistic use of clouds in
the composition of the pictures which evidence artistic knowledge. The
clouds are taken just as they happen to be, without reference to their
employment to enhance the effects of any of the objects in the lower
portion of the view, or as aids to the composition and general effect.
For the most part, the clouds are small and spotty, ill-assorting with
the grandeur of the landscapes, and never assisting the chiaroscuro in
an artistic sense. The most noticeable example of the latter defect may
be seen in the picture entitled "Le Mont Pilate," wherein a bald and
almost white mountain is placed against a light sky, much to the injury
of its form, effect, and grandeur; indeed, the mountain is barely saved
from being lost in the sky, although it is the principal object in the
picture. Had an artist attempted to paint such a subject, he would have
relieved such a large mass of light against a dark cloud. An example of
a different character is observable in another photograph, wherein a
dark conical mount would have been much more artistically rendered had
it been placed against a large mass of light clouds. There are two or
three fleecy white clouds about the summit of the mountain, but, as far
as pictorial effect goes, they would have been better away, for the mind
is left in doubt whether they are really clouds, or the sulphurous puffs
that float about the crater of a slumbering volcano. That photographs
possessing all the effects required by the rules of art are difficult,
and almost impossible to obtain at one exposure in the camera, I readily
allow. I know full well that a man might wait for days and weeks before
the clouds would arrange themselves so as to relieve his principal
object most advantageously; and, even if the desirable effects of light
and shade were obtained, the chances are that the forms would not
harmonize with the leading lines of the landscape.

This being the case, then, it must be self-evident that the best mode of
procedure will be to _print in skies_ from separate negatives, either
taken from nature or from drawings made for the purpose by an artist
that thoroughly understands art in all its principles. By these means,
especially the latter, skies may be introduced into the photographic
picture that will not only be adapted to each individual scene, but
will, in every instance where they are employed, increase the artistic
merit and value of the composition. But to return to the subject chiefly
under consideration.

Clouds in landscape pictures, like "man in his time," play many
parts--"they have their exits and their entrances." And it is almost
impossible to say enough in a short paper on a subject so important to
all landscape photographers. I will, however, as briefly and lucidly as
I can, endeavour to point out the chief uses of clouds in landscapes.
Referring to their use for effects in light and shade, I wrote, at the
commencement of this paper, that the engraved translations of Turner
afford the most familiar and beautiful examples, which they undoubtedly
do. But when I consider that Turner's skies are nearly all sunsets, the
study of them will not be so readily turned to practical account by the
photographer as the works of others,--Birket Foster, for instance. His
works are almost equal to Turner's in light and shade; he has been
largely employed in the illustration of books, and five shillings will
procure more of his beautiful examples of sky effects than a guinea will
of Turner's. Take, for example, Sampson Low and Son's five shilling
edition of Bloomfield's "Farmer's Boy," or Gray's "Elegy in a
Churchyard," profusely illustrated almost entirely by Birket Foster; and
in them will be seen such a varied and marvellous collection of
beautiful sky effects as seem almost impossible to be the work of one
man, and all of them profitable studies for both artist and photographer
in the varied uses made of clouds in landscapes. In those works it will
be observed that where the lower part of the picture is rich in variety
of subject the sky is either quiet or void of form, partaking of one
tint only slightly broken up. Where the terrestrial part of the
composition is tame, flat, and destitute of beautiful objects, the sky
is full of beauty and grandeur, rich in form and masses of light and
shade, and generally shedding a light on the insignificant object below,
so as to invest it with interest in the picture, and connect it with the
story being told.

From both of these examples the photographer may obtain a suggestion,
and slightly tint the sky of his picture, rich in objects of interest,
so as to resemble the tint produced by the "ruled lines" representing a
clear blue sky in an engraving. Hitherto that kind of tinting has
generally been overdone, giving it more the appearance of a heavy fog
lifting than a calm blue sky. The darkest part of the tint should just
be a little lower than the highest light on the principal object. This
tint may either be obtained in the negative itself at the time of
exposure, or produced by "masking" during the process of printing. On
the other hand, when the subject has little to recommend it in itself,
it may be greatly increased in pictorial power and interest by a
judicious introduction of beautiful cloud effects, either obtained from
nature, or furnished by the skill of an artist. If the aid of an artist
be resorted to, I would not recommend painting on the negative, but let
the artist be furnished with a plain white-sky print; let him wash in a
sky, in sepia or india ink, that will most harmonise, both in form and
effect, with the subject represented, take a negative from that sky
alone, and put it into each of the pictures by double printing. This may
seem a great deal of trouble and expense, and not appear to the minds of
some as altogether legitimate, but I strenuously maintain that any means
employed to increase the artistic merit and value of a photograph is
strictly legitimate; and that wherever and however art can be resorted
to, without doing violence to the truthfulness of nature, the status of
our art-science will be elevated, and its professional disciples will
cease to be the scorn of men who take pleasure in deriding the,
sometimes--may I say too often?--lame and inartistic productions of the
camera.


THE USE OF CLOUDS AS BACKGROUNDS IN PORTRAITURE.

There has long been in the world an aphorism that everything in Nature
is beautiful. Collectively this is true, and so it is individually, so
far as the adaptability and fitness of the object to its proper use are
concerned; but there are many things which are truly beautiful in
themselves, and in their natural uses, which cease to be so when they
are pressed into services for which they are not intended by the great
Creator of the universe. For example, what can be more beautiful than
that compound modification of cloud forms commonly called a "mackerel
sky," which is sometimes seen on a summer evening? What can be more
lovely, or more admirably adapted to the purposes of reflecting and
conducting the last flickering rays of the setting sun into the very
zenith, filling half the visible heavens with a fretwork of gorgeous
crimson, reflecting a warm, mysterious light on everything below, and
filling the mind with wonder and admiration at the marvellous beauties
which the heavens are showing? Yet, can anything be more unsuitable for
forming the background to a portrait, where everything should be
subdued, secondary, and subservient to the features of the individual
represented--where everything should be lower in tone than the light on
the face, where neither colour nor light should be introduced that would
tend to distract the attention of the observer--where neither accessory
nor effect should appear that does not help to concentrate the mind on
the grand object of the picture--the likeness? Still, how often do we
see a photographic portrait stuck against a sky as spotty, flickering,
and unsuitable as the one just described! How seriously are the
importance and brilliancy of the head interfered with by the
introduction of such an unsuitable background! How often is the interest
of the spectator divided between the portrait and the "overdone" sky, so
elaborately got up by the injudicious background painter! Such
backgrounds are all out of place, and ought to be abandoned--expelled
from every studio.

As the photographer does not possess the advantages of the painter, to
produce his effects by contrast of colour, it behoves him to be much
more particular in his treatment of light and shade; but most
particularly in his choice of a background that will most harmonise
with the dress, spirit, style, and condition in life of his sitter. It
is always possible for a member of any class of the community to be
surrounded or relieved by a plain, quiet background; but it is not
possible, in nine cases out of ten, for some individuals who sit for
their portraits ever to be dwellers in marble halls, loungers in the
most gorgeous conservatories, or strollers in such delightful gardens.
In addition to the unfitness of such scenes to the character and
every-day life of the sitter, they are the most unsuitable for pictorial
effect that can possibly be employed. For, instead of directing
attention to the principal object, they disturb the mind, and set it
wandering all over the picture, and interfere most seriously with that
quiet contemplation of the features which is so necessary to enable the
beholder to discover all the characteristic points in the portrait. When
the likeness is a very bad one, this may be advantageous, on the
principle of putting an ornamental border round a bad picture with the
view of distracting the attention of the observer, and preventing the
eye from resting long enough on any one spot to discover the defects.

When clouds are introduced as backgrounds to portraits, they should not
be of that small, flickering character previously alluded to, but broad,
dark, and "massy," so as to impart by contrast more strength of light to
the head; and the lighter parts of the clouds should be judiciously
placed either above or below the head, so as to carry the light into
other parts of the picture, and prevent the strongly-lighted head
appearing a spot. The best examples of that character will be found in
the engraved portraits by Reynolds, Lawrence, Gainsborough, and others,
many of which are easily obtained at the old print shops; some have
appeared in the _Art Journal_.

As guides for introducing cloud effects, accessories, and landscape bits
into the backgrounds of carte-de-visite and cabinet pictures, no better
examples can be cited than those exquisite little figure subjects by R.
Westall, R.A., illustrating Sharpe's Editions of the Old Poets. The
engravings are about the size of cartes-de-visite, and are in themselves
beautiful examples of composition, light, and shade, and appropriateness
of accessory to the condition and situation of the figures, affording
invaluable suggestions to the photographer in the arrangement of his
sitter, or groups, and in the choice of suitable accessories and
backgrounds. Such examples are easily obtained. Almost any old bookstall
in London possesses one or more of those works, and each little volume
contains at least half-a-dozen of these exquisite little gems of art.

Looking at those beautiful photographic cartes-de-visite by Mr. Edge, I
am very strongly impressed with the idea that they were suggested by
some such artistic little pictures as Westall's Illustrations of the
Poets. They are really charming little photographs, and show most
admirably how much the interest and artistic merit of a photograph can
be enhanced by the skilful and judicious introduction of a suitable
background. I may as well observe, _en passant_, that I have examined
these pictures very carefully, and have come to the conclusion that the
effects are not produced by means of any of the ingeniously contrived
appliances for poly-printing recently invented and suggested, but that
the effects are produced simply by double printing, manipulated with
consummate care and judgment, the figure or figures being produced on a
plain or graduated middle tint background in one negative, and the
landscape effect printed on from another negative after the first print
has been taken out of the printing-frame; the figures protected by a
mask nicely adjusted. My impressions on this subject are strengthened
almost to conviction when I look at one of Mr. Edge's photographs, in
particular a group of two ladies, the sitting figure sketching. In this
picture, the lower part of the added landscape--trees--being darker than
the normal tint of the ground, shows a _line_ round the black dress of
the lady, as if the mask had overlapped it just a hair's breadth during
the process of secondary printing. Be that as it may, they are lovely
little pictures, and afford ample evidence of what may be done by skill
and taste to vary the modes of treating photography more artistically,
by introducing natural scenery sufficiently subdued to harmonise with
the portrait or group; and, by similar means, backgrounds of clouds and
interiors may be added to a plain photograph, which would enrich its
pictorial effect, and enable the photographer to impart to his work a
greater interest and beauty, and, at the same time, be made the means of
giving apparent occupation to his sitter. This mode of treatment would
enable him, in a great measure, to carry out the practice of nearly all
the most celebrated portrait painters, viz., that of considering the
form, light, shade, and character of the background _after_ the portrait
was finished, by adapting the light, shade, and composition of his
background to the pose and condition of life of his sitter.

I shall now conclude my remarks with a quotation from Du Fresnoy's "Art
of Painting," bearing directly on my subject and that of light and
shade:--

   "Permit not two conspicuous lights to shine
    With rival radiance in the same design;
    But yield to one alone the power to blaze,
    And spread th' extensive vigour of its rays;
    There where the noblest figures are displayed,
    Thence gild the distant parts and lessening fade;
    As fade the beams which Phoebus from the east
    Flings vivid forth to light the distant West,
    Gradual those vivid beams forget to shine,
    So gradual let thy pictured lights decline."

       *       *       *       *       *

"LUX GRAPHICUS" ON THE WING.

Dear Mr. Editor,--I have often troubled you with some of my ideas and
opinions concerning the progress and status of photography, and you have
pretty often transferred the same to the columns of the _Photographic
News_, and troubled your readers in much the same manner. This time,
however, I am going to tell you a secret--a family secret. They are
always more curious, interesting, and important than other secrets,
state secrets and Mr. McLachlan's photographic secret not excepted. But
to my subject: "_The_ Secret." Well, dear Mr. Editor, you know that my
vocations have been rather arduous for some time past, and I feel that a
little relaxation from pressing cares and anxieties would be a great
boon to me. You know, also, that I am a great lover of nature, almost a
stickler for it, to the exclusion of _prejudicial art_. And now that the
spring has come and winter has fled on the wings of the fieldfares and
woodcocks--that's Thomas Hood's sentiment made seasonable--I fain would
leave the pent-up city, where the colour of the sky can seldom be seen
for the veil of yellow smoke which so constantly obscures it, and betake
myself to the country, and inhale the fresh breezes of early spring;
gladden my heart and eyes with a sight of the bright blue sky, the
glistening snowdrops and glowing yellow crocuses, and regale my ears and
soul with the rich notes of the thrush and blackbird, and the earliest
song of the lark at the gates of heaven.

It is a pleasant thing to be able to shake off the mud and gloom of a
winter's sojourn in a town, in the bright, fresh fields of the country,
and bathe your fevered and enfeebled body in the cool airs of spring, as
they come gushing down from the hills, or across the rippling lake, or
dancing sea. I always had such a keen relish for the country at all
seasons of the year, it is often a matter of wonder to me that I ever
could bring my mind to the necessity of living in a town. But bread and
butter do not grow in hedgerows, though "bread and cheese" do; still the
latter will not support animal life of a higher order than grub or
caterpillars. "There's the rub." The mind is, after all, the slave of
the body, for the mind must bend to the requirements of the body; and,
as a man cannot live by gazing at a "colt's foot," and if he have no
appetite for horseflesh, he is obliged to succumb to his fate, and abide
in a dingy, foggy, slushy, and bewildering world of mud, bricks, and
mortar, instead of revelling in the bright fields, fresh air, and
gushing melodies which God created for man, and gave man senses to enjoy
his glorious works.

But, Mr. Editor, I am mentally wandering among "cowslips," daises,
buttercups, and wild strawberry blossoms, and forgetting the stern
necessity of confining my observations to a subject coming reasonably
within the range of a class journal which you so ably conduct; but it is
pardonable and advantageous to allow mind to run before matter
sometimes, for the latter is more frequently inert than the former, and
when the mind has gone _ahead_, the body is sure to follow. Melancholy
instances of that present themselves to our notice too frequently. For
example, when a poor lady's or gentleman's wits are gone, _lettres des
cachets_, and some kind or _un_kind friends, send the witless body to
some retreat where the wits of all the inmates are gone. I must,
however, in all sober earnestness, return to my subject, or I fear you
will say: "He is going to Hanwell." Well, perhaps I am, for I know that
photography is practised at that admirable institution; and now that I
have struck a professional chord, I may as well play on it.

Lenses and cameras, like birds and flowers, reappear in spring, and, as
the season advances and the sun attains a higher altitude, amateurs and
professionals are quickened into a surprising activity. Renewed life is
imparted to them, and the gregarious habits of man are developed in
another form, and somewhat in the manner that the swallows return to
their old haunts. At first, a solitary scout or reconnoitering party
makes his appearance, then another, and another, until a complete flock
of amateur and professional photographers are abroad, seeking what food
they can devour: some preferring the first green "bits of foliage" that
begin to gem the woods with emeralds, others waiting till the leaf is
fully out, and the trees are thickly clothed in their early summer
loveliness: while others prefer a more advanced state of beauty, and
like to depict nature in her russet hues, when the trees "are in their
yellow leaf." Some are contented with the old-fashioned homesteads and
sweet green lanes of England for their subjects; others prefer the
ruined abbeys and castles of the feudal ages, with their deeply
interesting associations; others choose the more mythical monuments of
superstition and the dark ages, such as King Arthur's round tables,
druidical circles, and remains of their rude temples of stone. Some
delight in pictorializing the lakes and mountains of the north, while
others are not satisfied with anything short of the sublime beauty and
terrific grandeur of the Alps and Pyrenees. Truly, sir, I think it may
be safely stated that photographers are lovers of nature, and, I think,
they are also lovers of art. If some of them do not possess that art
knowledge which is so necessary for them to pursue advantageously either
branch of their profession, it is much to be regretted; but there is now
no reason why they should continue in darkness any longer. I know that
it requires years of study and practice to become an artist, but it does
not require a very great amount of mental labour or sacrifice of time to
become an artistic photographer. A little hard study of the subject as
it appears in the columns of your journal and those of your
contemporaries--for I notice that they have _all_ suddenly become alive
to the necessity of imparting to photographers a knowledge of art
principles--will soon take the scales off the eyes of a man that is
blind in art, and enable him to comprehend the mysteries of lines,
unity, and light and shade, and give him the power to compose his
subject as readily as he could give a composing draught to an infant,
and teach him to determine at a glance the light, shade, and atmospheric
effects that would most harmonize with the scene to be represented.
Supposing that he is master of the mechanical manipulations of
photography, he has acquired half the skill of the artist; and by
studying and applying the rules of composition and light and shade to
his mechanical skill, he is then equal to the artist in the treatment of
his subject, so far as the means he employs will or can enable him to
give an art rendering of nature, fixed and immovable.

I do not profess to be a teacher, but I do think it is much more genial
in spirit, and becoming the dignity of a man, to impart what little
knowledge he has to others, than to scoff at those who do not know so
much. If, therefore, Mr. Editor, in the course of my peregrinations, I
see an opportunity of calling your attention, and, through you, the
attention of others, to any glaring defects or absurdities in the
practice of our dearly beloved art, I shall not hesitate to do so; not,
however, with any desire to carp and cavil at them for cavilling's sake,
but with the more laudable desire of pointing them out, that they may be
avoided. During the coming summer I shall have, or hope to have, many
opportunities of seeing and judging, and will endeavour to keep you duly
advised of what is passing before me.

My letters may come from all parts--N., E., W., and S.--so that they
will, in that sense at least, harmonize with the nomenclature of your
periodical. Where I may be at the date of my writing, the post-mark will
reveal to you. And now I must consider my signature: much is in a name,
you know. I can hardly call myself your "Special Correspondent"--that
would be too much _a la Sala_; nor can I subscribe myself an "Old
Photographer," for that would be taking possession of another man's
property, and might lead to confusion, if not to difficulties; neither
can I style myself a "Peripatetic Photographer"--though I am one--for
that name sometimes appears in the columns of a contemporary; and my own
name is such a long one, consisting of nearly half the letters of the
alphabet. Well, I think, all things considered, I cannot do better than
retain my old _nom de plume_. And with many apologies for this long,
roundabout paper, and every expression of regard, I beg to subscribe
myself your obliged and humble servant,

Lux Graphicus (J. Werge).

_March 27th, 1868._

       *       *       *       *       *

"LUX GRAPHICUS" ON THE WING.

Oxford and Cambridge--Cabinet Portraits--Mr. McLachlan's Secret.

Dear Mr. Editor,--Do not let the above heading alarm you. I have no
desire to convert the columns of your valuable journal into a kind of
photographic _Bell's Life_ or _Sporting Chronicle_. Although the great
University boat race has just been decided for the eighth consecutive
time in favour of Oxford, it is not of that aquatic struggle that I am
going to write, but of another matter in which the Cantabs seem to be
behind the Oxonians in the race of life, or the pursuit of novelties.
Not only are the Cantabs short in their stroke with the oars, and unable
to obtain the first place in the contests on the Thames, they are also
slow in giving their orders for a certain article of commerce which is
of very great importance to professional photographers, especially those
in the neighbourhood of the University of Cambridge. It is a remarkable
fact, that while Oxford has gone in with a rush for those very charming
portraits technically named "cabinets," Cambridge holds aloof. How is
this, I wonder. There are as good photographers in Cambridge--Mr.
Mayland, to wit, whose work is all of the first class--as in Oxford; the
sun shines as brightly in the region of the Cam as he does in that of
the Isis. Have the Cantabs made up their minds not to be _cabinet_ men
in opposition to Oxford? or is the fact due to the lukewarmness of the
Cambridge photographers themselves? It seems somewhat strange that two
places likely to be so similar in tastes and a refined appreciation of
the beautiful should so differ in this respect. Are the men of the two
great seats of learning in this country opposed in matters of
photographic proportion as they are in other matters of minor
importance--as in the proper pronunciation of either and neither, for
instance? Not having graduated at either, I do not know which is
correct, neither do I care; but I am concerned in this question of
photography. While at Oxford the cabinet picture has taken deep root,
and has grown into a strong and vigorous article of demand, it is a
well-known fact that at Cambridge it is "sicklied o'er with the pale
cast of thought," and languishes on in a state trembling between life
and death. Whether the producers or consumers are to blame for this
langour in the demand for an article that is certainly worth being
cultivated, is more than I can say. I know that the discrepancy exists,
and the rest I leave to those most immediately interested. It cannot,
however, be supposed that a demand for any particular size or style can
spring up spontaneously; that must be created by the producer, by
popularising the style in some attractive and judicious manner, and the
cabinet size is well deserving of a very strenuous effort being made in
its favour.

Of all the photographic sizes that have been introduced to the public,
the cabinet is the most artistic in its proportions. As nearly as
possible it falls under that art rule of producing an oblong or
parallelogram of the most agreeable proportions, which is as the
diagonal is to the square. The size of the cabinet is 5-1/2 by 4, and if
you measure the diagonal of the square of 4 inches, you will find that
the length of the cabinet, 5-1/2 inches, is as near that as possible.
Doubtless Mr. Window had this in view when he introduced the size, and
whether for upright or horizontal pictures, such proportions are
decidedly the best. Many of the sizes already in use are too long,
others are too short and square. In addition to the beautiful
proportions of the cabinet size, it gives the portrait photographer more
room and opportunities to introduce harmonious forms and effects in the
posing and arrangements of portraits and groups; and I have seen some
very charming views on the cabinet size, 5-1/2 by 4 inches horizontally;
as well as some very beautiful interiors of Westminster Abbey, by Mr. V.
Blanchard, on the cabinet cards vertical, which proves pretty
conclusively that the proportions of the diagonal to the square of any
size will suit both vertical and horizontal pictures. I have not the
least doubt but a much greater demand for those cabinet pictures, both
portrait and landscape, could be created, if photographers would set
about introducing them with a will: depend upon it if they will but put
their heart into the matter, they would put money into their pockets. I
know how much has been done by launching them fearlessly on the sea of
public patronage in several localities, and I feel certain the demand
would be much more general if the cabinet picture were judiciously
introduced. Mr. H. P. Robinson and Mr. Nelson K. Cherrill, having
entered into partnership, are on the point of opening a photographic
establishment at Tunbridge Wells, where they intend to incur
considerable expense to introduce the cabinet portrait, and give it that
prominence it so justly merits.

Since writing you last, I learn from a friend who is intimate with Mr.
McLachlan that there is every possibility of his secret being revealed
ere long. That this secret formula will be an immense boon to all
photographers, there can be little doubt. If an absolute immunity from
streaks in the direction of the dip, brain-markings, and pinholes--which
are the advantages said to be derived from the process--can be
guaranteed, then will the manipulatory part of photography be at once
made easy; and Mr. McLachlan will have conferred a personal obligation
on every photographic manipulator. Not only will photographers be
benefitted by Mr. McLachlan's generous conduct, the whole world will
participate in the advantages he intends to place as a gift in the hands
of photographers; and even _art_, that is so afraid of a photographic
amalgamation, will be _honoured_ by the revelation. But once let the
mind of the operator be for ever free from the cares and anxieties of
his negative being clean, spotless, and excellent in quality, he will
then have more time and inclination to put his art knowledge, if he have
any, into practice, by paying more attention to the pose of his sitters
and the artistic choice and arrangement of accessories. If he be without
art knowledge he will be obliged to acquire it and put it into practice,
or be driven out of his field of operations. For, if the chemical
difficulties and uncertainties are to be so summarily disposed of, and
all the manipulations reduced to a certainty and dead level, a
pre-eminence in the profession can only be maintained by him who
exhibits a taste, feeling, and love for his labours superior to the
desire to palm upon the public, for mere gain, works that are a disgrace
and a scandal to the profession of which he is a member. That such a
condition of things photographic may be quickly brought about is much to
be desired, and if such be the result of Mr. McLachlan's very noble
willingness to give to the photographic community experiences that have
cost him much time and money in acquiring by close observation and
experiment, he will, at the least, be entitled to the sincere and hearty
acknowledgments of all well-wishers and lovers of our art-science.

_Apropos_ of clean and easy development, I should like to know if any of
your numerous readers have tried the effect of sulphate of zinc with the
iron developer. I understand its use obviates the necessity of using
acetic acid as a retardant; that the deposit of silver is much more
delicate than that produced by iron alone; that the control over it is
very great; that any amount of intensity can be obtained by one or more
applications, without the aid of pyrogallic acid, and without producing
harshness or hardness. With such recommendations it is certainly worth a
trial. I have had no time to try it myself, but think it is of
sufficient importance to give your readers an opportunity of
experimenting with it, and judging for themselves.

_Photographic News, April 10th, 1868._

       *       *       *       *       *

"LUX GRAPHICUS" ON THE WING.

The Late Lord Brougham--New Fields for Photography--Natural Objects
Coloured--The Monochrome and Autotype--Mr. McLachlan again.

Death has just swept away one of the most gigantic intellects of the
nineteenth century. For me to state what the late Lord Brougham was, or
attempt to enumerate his vast attainments, or measure the strength of
his colossal mind, would be a piece of intolerable presumption; but I
think I may safely say that he was an enthusiastic admirer of
photography. Years ago, in the midst of his parliamentary and other
pressing duties, whenever he could find time to enjoy the quiet of
Brougham Hall, near Penrith, his giant mind was not above indulging in
the delightful relaxation it afforded; and many a pleasant hour he used
to spend chatting with Mr. Jacob Thompson, an artist of great ability,
and also a very early amateur photographer, on the wonderful results
obtained by the new art. The late Lord Brougham began his literary
career by publishing a treatise on "Light," before photography was known
or thought to be practicable; in after life he interested himself in its
marvellous productions, and his last literary labour was also about
light. Not only did the great statesman "know a little of everything,"
he did a little in everything. The deceased lord took a lively interest
in the progress of photography during his lifetime, from its earliest
introduction to within a short period of his death; and it would have
been a graceful and fitting compliment to the memory of the great man of
law, politics, literature, and science, if the English newspapers had
embellished their memoirs of the late Lord Brougham with a photographic
portrait of his lordship. Such a thing is quite practicable, and has
been done successfully by our more enterprising confrères in Canada and
the United States. The _Montreal Weekly Herald_ of April 18th
illustrates its memoir of the late Mr. T. d'Arcy McGhee with a very
excellent carte-de-visite portrait of the lamented and unfortunate
Canadian Minister, mounted on the upper corner of the front page,
surrounded with a deep black border. What an appropriate accompaniment
such a presentation would have been to the able articles and memoirs
which appeared in the daily press on Monday, May 11th, 1868! How much
more interesting and valuable those clever biographical sketches of
great men, as they pass away to their rest, which appear in the _Daily
Telegraph_ and other daily and weekly papers, would appear if
illustrated with a photograph from life! That it can be done the
_Montreal Weekly Herald_ has recently and satisfactorily shown; and
surely there is enterprise, spirit, and wealth enough among the British
newspaper proprietors to follow the very laudable example of our
transatlantic cousins. Negatives of great men are always attainable, and
there need be no commercial difficulty between the photographer and
newspaper proprietor on the score of supply. A multiplication of
negatives or Woodbury's process, would afford all the necessary
facilities for producing the prints in large numbers.

Many new fields for the good of photography are opening up. Pathological
works have been photographically illustrated with some amount of
success. But far pleasanter fields are open to enterprising
photographers in the faithful representation of natural objects, such as
flowers, fruits, ferns, grasses, shrubs, trees, shells, seaweeds, birds,
butterflies, moths, and every variety of animal life, from the lowest
orders to the highest. I believe the time is not far distant when the
best works on all the physical sciences will be illustrated by coloured
photographs. Those very beautiful German photographs of flowers recently
introduced show most conclusively of what photography is capable as a
help to a study of the natural sciences. The flowers are not only
photographed from nature, but exquisitely coloured after the same
fountain of truth; and the sense of reality, roundness, and relief which
they convey is truly wonderful.

Hitherto the colouring of natural objects photographed from nature has
been a very difficult thing to accomplish; but now it is done, and with
a marvellous success.

The monochromatic process is also making great strides in advance. Those
very beautiful transparencies, cabinet size, of the Queen and Royal
Family are now to be seen in most of the photographic picture
shop-windows in town and country. These transparencies are the
productions of the Disderi Company, by Woodbury's photo-relief process,
and the results now obtained are really beautiful, both in effect and
colour, and sold at a very low price. But the _chef d'oeuvre_ of all
monochromatic effects has just been achieved by the triple labours of
Mr. Macnee, the artist, and Mr. Annan, the photographer, of Glasgow, and
Mr. J. W. Swan, of Newcastle. The subject in question is a work of art
in every respect. The original is a full-length portrait of Lord
Belhaven, painted by Daniel Macnee, and now in the Royal Academy
Exhibition. A photograph taken from the painting by Mr. Annan was worked
up in monochrome by the eminent artist, from which another negative was
taken by the same skilful photographer, and placed in the hands of Mr.
J. W. Swan to be printed in carbon, which the latter gentleman has done
in the most admirable manner. Altogether, the result is the most
satisfactory reproduction by photography that has ever been placed
before the public, and is less like a photograph and more like a fine
mezzotint engraving than anything I ever saw. Mr. Annan is now
publishing the work on his own responsibility, and a specimen of it can
be seen at the offices of "The Autotype Printing and Publishing Co.," 5,
Haymarket, London. Mr. Hill, of Edinburgh, is also about to publish, in
carbon, a photograph of that beautifully painted picture entitled "A
Fairy Raid," which was exhibited last year in the rooms of the Royal
Academy by Sir Noel Paton. As in the former case, Mr. Annan copied the
painting, Sir Noel worked on a print in monochrome, which was again
photographed by Mr. Annan, and the negative passed to Mr. J. W. Swan to
be printed in carbon. I understand that Poynter's celebrated picture of
"Israel in Egypt" is about to be published, in a similar manner, by the
Autotype Company. It is therefore quite evident that photography is
becoming, in reality, more and more "a foe to graphic art," and
eclipsing the lights and deepening the shadows of the _unluxy_ engraver.

Mr. McLachlan has again spoken without giving any very materially new
facts, or throwing much more light on his mysterious mode of working.
The great point is, to throw light on the concentrated solution of
nitrate of silver; and until that has been done it will be impossible
for any one to say from experience and practice that there is nothing in
the principle. Mr. McLachlan attributes a chemical property to the
action of light on the bath that has never been thought of before, and
he seems to believe it so sincerely himself, and expresses his
convictions so earnestly, that I think photographers are somewhat bound
to wait patiently till time and light will enable them to comply with
all the conditions he lays down, and make a series of careful
experiments, before they can say whether they are under obligations to
him or not. At any rate, natural justice suggests that they should not
render a foregone verdict.

_May 17th, 1868._

       *       *       *       *       *

The Exhibition of National Portraits--The Tintype of America--The Spirit
of Photography in Canada--The "Wise Week," and the Total Eclipse of the
Sun.

Dear Mr. Editor,--From various causes I have been absent from your
columns as a contributor for some time, but not as a reader. The chief
reason for this was the weather, which of late has been so hot and
prostrating as to dry up both my ink and my energies. Now that the
atmosphere is more cool, moist, and pleasant, my ink and my thoughts may
flow together, and the resulting epistle may find a place on some page
of the Photographic News; if not, I shall not be angry. I know that the
world--and photography is my world--is not always mindful of its atoms.
The great and immortal Cicero discovered that even he could be absent
from Rome, and all Rome not know it. How much easier, then, for your
readers not to discover my absence from your pages. But my inability to
write and attend to other duties entailed more serious losses to myself.
Amongst others I missed seeing the Royal Academy Exhibition, but found a
compensating pleasure in going to see the Exhibition of National
Portraits at South Kensington. What a school it is for photographers!
What a variety of pose, arrangement, management of light and shade, is
to be seen in that glorious collection of Vandykes, Hogarths,
Gainsboroughs, Reynolds, Opies, Wilkies, Raeburns, Northcotes,
Lawrences, Phillips, Shees, Richmonds, Grants, and many others of the
present day! I hope many photographers have seen the collection. None
ought to have missed the opportunity. All that saw must have profited by
the sight. Portraits of great men that have been familiar to me in black
and white for years were there before me in the rich mellow colouring of
Vandyke, Reynolds, Wilkie, and Lawrence, and the mind seemed carried
back into the past while looking at the works of those great artists.

The exhibition will soon close, and all that have not seen it should
endeavour to do so at once. There may never again be seen such a
gathering together of the great of England, painted by England's
greatest portrait painters. The Manchester Art Treasures Exhibition was
a great assemblage of the glory of England, but it was not so complete,
nor so instructive, nor so comfortable to view as that now open at South
Kensington. In addition to the paintings there is a large and valuable
collection of rare engravings, both in mezzotints and in line. The
latter collection alone would make a visit highly pleasing, and, in a
sense, remunerative to every photographer. Art is beginning to take
root in the minds of those who follow photography, either professionally
or for amusement, and those exhibitions are the salt that "savoureth the
earth," which in due time will bring forth rich fruits.

The "Tintype" is now being largely practised in America, and is fitted
into an envelope or slip, carte-de-visite size. The slip is formed of
paper, with an aperture to show the picture, and a flap to fall over it
as a protector. I had some of these shown to me a short time ago. The
tintype is only another name for the ferrotype or melainotype, which is
a collodion positive picture taken on a piece of tin or iron, coated
with black japan on the front, and a varnish on the back, to prevent the
metal from acting on the bath. The carte-de-visite form of the tintype
fitted in the envelope or holder is a very good and ready way of
supplying all portraits wanted in a hurry, and its adoption might be
found very serviceable to many photographers in England. The American
examples that I have seen are very brilliant and beautiful, and, to my
mind, next in delicacy of detail and richness of colour to the long
discarded but ever beautiful Daguerreotype. I must admit, _en passant_,
that the Americans always excelled in producing fine, brilliant
Daguerreotypes, and it is much the same with them in the production of
glass positives, ferrotypes, or tintypes.

The spirit of photography in America and Canada is admirable. Mr.
Notman, of Montreal, has long been doing some excellent cabinet pictures
representing out-of-door-life, pleasures, and pastimes. Now Mr. Inglis,
of Montreal, also produces most beautiful carte-de-visite and cabinet
pictures of indoor and out-of-door scenes, such as drawing-rooms,
libraries, &c., with suitably arranged and occupied figures in the
former, and boating, bathing, and fishing parties in the latter. Some of
these pictures have recently been shown to me. They are all very fine
examples of photography. The tone and quality of some are beautiful.
Many of them are admirably arranged, and exhibit considerable knowledge
of composition; but some of them, particularly the interiors, are sadly
at fault in their chiaroscuro. They possess no dominant light, or, if
they do, it is in the wrong place, leading the eye away from the
principal object. In most cases the lights are too scattered, giving a
spotty and flickering effect to the picture, which is painful to look
at. With his out-of-door scenes Mr. Inglis is more happy, and probably,
from his antecedents, more at home. For example, the "Boating Party" is
very happily composed, embracing the double form of angular
composition--the triangle and the lozenge--and just a little more skill
or care would have made it perfect in its lines. The whole scene is well
lighted and got up. The boat, foreground of pebbles, stones, shrubs, and
trees are all real; the water is represented by tin-foil, wet black
oilcloth, or something of the kind, which reflects the forms and colours
of objects placed upon or above it. The reflections seem too sharp to be
those of water. The plan adopted by Mr. Ross, of Edinburgh, is the best.
That gentleman has a large shallow trough fitted up in his studio with
water in it.

Surely such pictures of groups of friends and families would take in
London and the provinces if people only knew where to get them. At
present I know there is not a place in London where photographic
pictures possessing such a variety and interest can be obtained. Mr.
Faulkner is the only photographer that has yet attempted to produce such
rural subjects in London, but I am not aware that he has yet introduced
"the boat" into his studio.

This is the "Wise Week," and it is to be hoped that the gathering
together of the wisdom of the world at Norwich will in some way be
beneficial to photography. You, Mr. Editor, I presume, will attend the
meetings, and I shall look forward with considerable interest to your
gleanings from the harvest of science that will this year be garnered in
the transactions of the British Association.

As I think of the date to affix to my letter, I am reminded that this is
the day of the great total eclipse, visible in India, and that several
expeditions are engaged in taking observations. The photographic
arrangements, I notice, are more than usually complete, and I most
sincerely hope that the astronomical photographers are favoured with
bright and calm weather, so that they may succeed in obtaining the best
photographic representations of the phenomenon. In this I am not
influenced by the mere photographic idea of getting a picture, but
rather with the hope that photography may be the legitimate and
honourable handmaiden to the savants, astronomers, and mathematicians in
enabling them to ascertain the constitutional condition, mode of
sustenance, and interminable length of life of the great source of all
our labours and achievements. Then would the sun write his
autobiography, and his amanuensis would be his favoured child,
photography.

_August 18th, 1868._

       *       *       *       *       *

The Harvest is over, the Granaries are Full, yet Famine is in our
Midst--Photographers' Benevolent and Provident Societies--Photography
Ennobled--Revival of the Eburneum Process--The Societies and the Coming
Session--Photographic Apparatus _v._ Personal Luggage.

Dear Mr. Editor,--My quill is as restless as my wing, and, as I skim
about like the swallows, many things fall under my observation that
would otherwise not do so, some of which are noteworthy and of interest
to the photographic profession, many are not; but harvest time is
interesting to everyone, and it is of this I am going to make a few
remarks. It is always a subject of grave importance and anxiety to a
nation like ours, with a very limited area of cereal land, until it is
known whether the harvest has been abundant or otherwise. It is also
equally important that the harvest, however plentiful, should be
carefully reaped and garnered, so that famine may not fall upon the
people before another season of plenty shall come in its course. The
cereal harvest is over, and has been wonderfully abundant, in spite of
the unusually long, dry, and hot summer. The stack-yards are full, and
the granaries are teeming with plenty, and there is bread enough for all
that can afford to buy. There, that is the qualification that brings to
my mind the most serious part of this subject. Although the season has
been wonderfully fine and favourable for a rich harvest of all things,
"famine is in our midst." A cry of woe is mingled with our mirth. A
glorious summer and autumn have, on the whole, yielded a rich reward to
the labourers in the pleasant and profitable fields of photography; yet
there is want among some of the workers. In the columns of your
contemporary I observe a letter "begging alms" on behalf of a poor widow
and her little orphans. It is a case of pure charity, and far be it from
me to say to anyone, "Do not help her;" "They have no claim on the
sympathies of the photographic public;" "Neither she nor her late
husband did anything to forward the progress of the art nor advance the
interests of photographers in general." I grant the latter hypothesis,
and say, "He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord." Nevertheless,
I cannot refrain from expressing my opinion that such painful appeals
should not be allowed to appear in the columns of the photographic
journals; all such private cases could and should be provided for by any
of the provident organisations so common to other trades. The subject
has been frequently mooted in your own columns, but no action has been
taken. Very recently a lady correspondent called attention to the
subject again, and now, in the pages of your contemporary, I notice an
elaborate plan is laid down as the ground-work of a Photographers'
Provident and Benevolent Society. That plan is open to some objections,
but it is certainly desirable that such a society should be formed. It
is rather late in the season for photographers to make any provision for
cases 1 and 2, as the correspondent in your contemporary suggests--this
year, at least; but I think his other plan of making a provision,
however small, for widows and orphans is highly to be commended, and, if
only carried into effect, would undoubtedly mitigate the anguish and
lessen the fear of want in the minds of many deserving women, and might
prevent the recurrence of those painful appeals to which I have just
alluded. It is just as important and imperative a duty for every man to
make some sort of provision for those dependent upon him as it is for
the husbandman to reap and carefully house his harvest. Knowing the
interest which you, Mr. Editor, personally take in this subject, I trust
that you will exert your influence, and see if it be possible to found a
society _at once_ that will grow in after years to be a monument to
photography and to the goodness and forethought of the photographers of
the present generation.

Photography, like the fine arts, is honoured with a title of nobility. A
baronetcy has recently fallen to the lot of one who for years has
followed photography as a profession, taking cartes-de-visite and other
photographs in the usual business-like manner. Of all the styles of
distinction that are conferred upon men, I think baronetcies have been
subject to the greatest number of vicissitudes, and spiced with the
greatest amount of romance, from the romantic succession of Sir Robert
Innes to Sir William Don, "a poor player;" and now the photographic
profession includes among its members one of the baronets of England.

Your description of the Eburneum process, given recently in your "Visits
to Noteworthy Studios," has awakened quite a new interest in that
beautiful form of photograph, introduced a few years ago by Mr. Burgess.
Several photographers whom I know have set about producing them. The
specimens which I have seen are very beautiful as cards, but they are
particularly suitable for lockets, brooches, studs, pins, rings, &c.,
being sharp, clear, and delicate, and easily cut to fit any size or
shape.

Next month some of the London photographic societies will commence the
session of 1868-9, and it might be asked, What are their prospects? It
is to be hoped that the North London will do better than it did last
session. There was more than one _nil_ meeting. The South London will
doubtless keep up its character, and exhibit its usual vitality. The
personal interest taken in the meetings by their kind, genial, and
courteous President is almost sure to develop all the latent force of
the members. It is also to be hoped that _the_ Society will make as
brilliant a start as it did at the commencement of the session last
November. Such an exhibition as that in Conduit Street may easily be
repeated, though it may not be such a startling one.

The question raised, whether photographic apparatus be or be not
considered "personal luggage" by the railway companies, is one of very
great importance to photographers, but particularly to amateurs, for if
decided against them it will cause no end of inconvenience, vexation,
and expense by delays and extra charges. On the other hand, it must be
admitted that the view taken by the railway authorities is technically
correct. The very word "personal" shows that they mean such articles as
are really and absolutely necessary for the personal comfort and
convenience of travellers, which can only rightly include wearing
apparel, changes of linen, dressing-cases, ladies' work boxes, and
writing desks. These are absolutely indispensable for the comfort and
convenience of travellers. Photographic apparatus, and particularly
chemicals, do not come under that classification, and I think it is of
great consequence to the railway companies and their passengers to know
what should, or should not, be put into the "luggage van." I know a case
where an amateur photographer was travelling by rail with a 12 by 10
bath full of nitrate of silver solution packed among his clothes in a
box in the luggage van. The bath leaked, the solution spoiled all his
shirts, and he was driven to the shift of papering the fronts. Now,
supposing the box containing the leaky bath had stood upon someone
else's box--say a lady's--it might have run through and spoiled some
valuable dresses; at the least, it would have spoiled the appearance of
the box, to the great annoyance of the lady passenger, and the probable
claim on the company for compensation. There are always two sides to a
question, and though few men have travelled more with photographic
apparatus in the luggage van than myself, I think, in this case, the
best of the argument may be fairly ceded to the railway companies.

_September 18th, 1868._

       *       *       *       *       *

"LUX GRAPHICUS" ON THE WING.

His Flight to and from the Exhibition of the Photographic Society.

Dear Mr. Editor,--On Tuesday night last I took the liberty of looking
into the rooms of the Architectural Society, to see the photographs, and
listen to the gossip of the visitors at the _conversazione_ of the
Photographic Society. To hear the complimentary remarks and the
exclamations of pleasure was as delightful to my ear as the first song
of the lark in spring.

The assemblage--not brilliant, but genial, pleasant, and happy--was as
refreshing to the eye as the first glimpse of the vernal flowers; and
the pictures hung upon the walls and screens, and laid upon the tables,
were, in more senses than one, a feast to the mind almost without alloy.
For my own part, I felt so joyful, I could not help fluttering my wings,
shaking my feathers, and flitting about from one place to another,
chirping, chatting, and pecking lovingly about this pretty thing, and at
that old friend, till long after my usual time of going to roost. And
when I did at last tear myself away and fly home, I could not help
exclaiming, Well, there never was a pleasanter evening nor a nicer
exhibition in the whole history of the Society! But I could not sleep;
I put my head under my wing, shook my feathers, and tried to settle into
the most comfortable and cosy positions, but it was no use. The pretty
landscapes and pleasing portraits I had seen shone brighter and brighter
before me; I was compelled to mentally review them; and here follows the
result of my incubations. My first thoughts were to work the pleasures
of the evening by a kind of rule-of-three process, by considering the
value of the landscapes and portraits exhibited, to arrive at the worth
of the exhibition; but not so much in a money point of view, as in the
merits of the works, and their probable influences on the workers.

Taking the landscape portion of the exhibition as first in the order
into which I had mentally catalogued the pictures, it was an easy and
delightful thing to skim over such a vast extent of this world's surface
that evening. To journey to and from the glens of Scotland, the dales of
England and Wales, the lakes of Ireland, the mountains of the Tyrol, to
Abyssinia and the famous heights of Magdala, was but the work of a few
minutes, thanks to the purveyors of that mental banquet. But to do full
justice to the exhibitors I must endeavour to enumerate their principal
works, and comment thereon with the utmost impartiality. Most
unquestionably the gems of the landscape portion of the exhibition were
eight exquisite little pictures by Mr. Russell Manners Gordon, affording
unmistakable proof of what the gum-gallico dry process is capable of
yielding in his hands. It is almost, if not quite, equal to the wet
process for detail and delicacy. This is particularly noticeable in the
view of Carnarvon Castle. Indeed, Mr. Bedford's picture of the same
subject--which, I presume, is by the wet process--on the other side of
the screen, contrasts rather unfavourably with it. Mr. Gordon's
selection of his point of sight, and general treatment of that subject
alone, are unmistakable proofs of his refined taste and feeling for the
art capabilities of landscape photography. The wet collodion pictures by
Mr. Gordon are also beautiful examples of the art. His cottages with
sheep browsing in the foreground, which is an instantaneous picture, is
remarkable for its beauty and arrangement. These pictures are
beautifully printed, and possess a tone which harmonizes charmingly with
the subjects. Amongst the other landscape photographers Mr. England and
Mr. Bedford stand unrivalled in their peculiar branches. The views in
the Tyrol, lately taken by Mr. England, are so excellent that they
cannot but add to that gentleman's high reputation.

Mr. Bedford's views are also quite equal, if not superior, to his
previously-exhibited works. Some pretty views of the Lakes of Killarney
by Mr. Archibald Irvine were well worthy of notice. Mr. F. Beasley,
Junr., exhibited some very excellent examples of the Fothergill process;
some printed in silver, and others in carbon, from the same negatives. I
think the carbon prints were superior in colour, but the silver prints
possess most detail and depth. Views of Wimbledon and other places by
Mr. Vernon Heath were also good examples of that gentleman's
photography. Some beautiful cloud effects by Messrs. Robinson and
Cherrill, of Tunbridge Wells, and Mr. Fox, of Brighton, attracted
considerable attention, and elicited great praise. The large composition
picture, "Returning Home," by Mr. Robinson, was greatly admired by
nearly everyone that looked at it. One or two ill-natured or ignorant
remarks were made about that picture, but I candidly think it is the
very best picture that Mr. Robinson has produced. The sunshine on the
one side, and the rain storm sweeping over the other, are both cleverly
and artistically managed. I am sorry I cannot say the same of the group
of children which hung near the latter. The group, though perfect in its
photographic details and tone, is too suggestive of scissors and paste
to be a good picture, in my estimation.

Mr. Wardley's large Taupenot pictures were very excellent. The very
interesting pictures of Abyssinia by the 10th Company of Engineers were
very attractive. Groups of the captives--political, religious, and
artisan, with their families--and the officers of the Expedition, formed
interesting pictures. The views of Magdala, Theodore's house, the
mushroom fortifications, and other flimsy defences, as revealed by the
truth-telling camera, seemed to lessen considerably the glory of the
capture of Magdala.

Having dismissed the landscape portion of the exhibition without
mentioning all the many excellent contributions thereto, I next turn my
thoughts again to the contributions of portraits. The examples of that
branch of photography were nearly all of first-rate excellence, a large
number of them being _à la Salomon_, M. Adam-Salomon himself
contributing no less than fifteen. With one or two remarkable
exceptions, these pictures were not equal to those exhibited last year,
and a general feeling prevailed that they were neither his later works,
nor the best of his former; still, they were a very effective display,
and attracted great and deserved attention. As I have, on a former
occasion, expressed my opinion on the great excellence of M. Salomon's
works, I shall not comment further thereon at present, but proceed to
notice those which most nearly approached them in photographic
and artistic essentials. Undoubtedly Mr. Valentine Blanchard's
contributions, both in number and quality, come nearer to M. Salomon's
works than any other contributor's. Mr. Blanchard exhibited ten
portraits _à la Salomon_, some of which are quite equal to the French
artist's best works, without the elaborate working-up which the latter
exhibit. Mr. Blanchard has not been at all times fortunate in his
sitters, which is very much to be regretted, for we all know how much a
beautiful subject helps a good photograph. Hitherto, Mr. Blanchard has
been an exhibitor chiefly as a landscape and figure-study photographer.
Now that he has taken more kindly to portraiture, and exhibits such
capabilities for its successful practice, I hope he will find it
sufficiently remunerative to induce him to be a steady and persevering
disciple of M. Salomon. Messrs. Robinson and Cherrill also exhibited two
beautiful and Salomon-like portraits: one of M. Salomon himself, and one
of Mr. Hain Friswell; the latter, I think, is decidedly the best. Mr.
Mayland, of Cambridge, sent six very excellent portraits in Salomon's
style, all very good but one; a gentleman in a velvet coat was
particularly successful.

The pictures exhibited by Mr. Briggs, of Leamington, though extremely
forcible and beautiful, were not exactly an imitation of the style of M.
Salomon.

Mr. Leake, of Cornhill, had a frame containing six very capital
portraits in the style of the eminent French photographer, but a little
overdone in after-touching--too much elaborated. In this respect he far
outdid his great prototype. Messrs. Fradelle and Leach also exhibited a
number of whole-plate pictures _à la Salomon_, which were very good
indeed. Messrs. Slingsby, Burgess, Ashdown, Dunmore, and S. Fry, were
also exhibitors of the same style of portraits, 10 by 8 size; but it is
a pity the latter did himself the injustice of exhibiting so many, for
there was only one--an old gentleman with a grey beard--that was really
worthy of him. Never did any man's joke recoil more forcibly on himself
than that of Mr. Fry's. The faces of some of his female portraits--one
in particular--were, in my estimation, as flat, white, and shadowless as
a piece or knob of sal-ammoniac itself; but I must say that the portrait
of the gentleman above referred to was all that could be desired as an
artistic photograph.

Amongst the cabinet pictures exhibited by English photographers, I think
those by Mr. Hubbard were decidedly the finest. One entitled "The
Toilet," and another of a lady seated at a window, which might be named
"A Sultry Day in Town," are charmingly artistic photographs. A
composition picture by the same artist was also very skilfully treated;
indeed, it was mistaken by many to be a copy of a picture, and might
easily have been taken for a copy of a painting by T. Faed. Mr. Briggs,
Mr. Godbold (of Hastings), Mr. Gillo, Messrs. Lucas and Box, also
exhibited some beautiful cabinet pictures.

Cartes-de-visite in their ordinary form were somewhat scarce, but Dr.
Wallich, Mr. Charles Heath, Mr. Bateman, and others, made a good show of
vignettes.

Mrs. Cameron exhibited some large pictures in her peculiar style; but my
own opinion and that of others was, that she is improving.

Mr. Ernest Edwards exhibited a large collection of carbon pictures, in
black and other colours; some mounted on chromo-tinted paper, and some
excellent enlargements in carbon. The Autotype Company exhibited a fine
copy of Lord Belhaven, which I noticed some time ago; also a very
valuable and beautiful collection of copies from drawings by old
masters, all bound together, making a handsome and very interesting
collection.

Mr. Rejlander had a large collection of his art photographs on view, all
of which were clever, some facetious, and many very beautiful
conceptions.

A frame of coloured enamels by Mr. Bailey, and some in black-and-white
by Mr. Henderson and Mr. Barnes, also attracted considerable notice.

The eburneumtypes by Mr. Burgess, a coloured collodio-chloride portrait
on ivory by Mr. J. Edwards, and other collodio-chloride and opalotype
pictures, were very much admired. The cabinet vignettes by Reutlinger,
and the cabinet pictures by Wenderoth, were both in request at the
table, on account of their beauty and interest.

I must not forget to mention a very interesting series of twenty-four
stereoscopic pictures by Mr. Alfieri, illustrative of "The Potter's
Art."

Mr. Jabez Hughes and Mr. Meagher were both exhibitors of very excellent
and useful apparatus--cameras, camera-stands, and rolling-presses.

Now I think such an exhibition as I have but partially described cannot
fail to have produced a pleasing and beneficial effect on the minds of
all who saw it, and ought, on the whole, to have given infinite pleasure
and satisfaction to both exhibitors and visitors. Yet I think I heard
one or two growls of discontent about the hanging from someone whose
pictures or whose friend's pictures were not on the line; but I think I
may safely say there never was a case of hanging yet that was not
objected to by one individual at least. Even the hangers of the Royal
Academy do not escape censure, and they are supposed to have far more
skill, taste, and experience in hanging than the volunteer hangers of
the late photographic exhibition. I think, however, that the hangers
performed their duties both conscientiously and creditably, especially
when it is considered in how very short a time the work had to be done.
Anyone who felt aggrieved, and expressed himself churlishly on that
point, must surely have been in that unenviable state which the French
very adroitly designate _Être marqué au B_.

After these reflections I felt too drowsy to reflect any more, and was
barely awake enough to subscribe myself--Yours very truly.

_November 10th, 1868._

       *       *       *       *       *

The Refunding of the Balance of the Goddard Fund--The Photographers'
Provident Society--A Ferocious Doorsman--The South London Dinner--A
Christmas Carol.

My Dear Sir,--Now that the balance of the Goddard Fund is returned to
the contributors, and all the trials and vexations the administration of
the fund brought upon the chief promoters are known, I think the very
best thanks of the whole body of subscribers to that fund are due to the
committee for their firm and sensible determination to provide for the
wants of the poor imbecile recipient in the manner they did, and for
their withstanding the attempt made by a person who was not in the
least related to the late Mr. Goddard to obtain possession of the
balance in hand. I, for one, a subscriber to the fund, return them my
most hearty acknowledgments, not for the money returned to me, but for
the straightforwardness of their report, and the wise and judicious
manner in which they dispensed the funds. While congratulating myself
and confrères on seeing the money not required for the relief of the
late Mr. Goddard returned to the subscribers instead of going into the
possession of a person for whom it never was intended, I think it is to
be regretted that no responsible party had foreseen that much of this
returned money would have been gladly placed to the credit of some
benevolent or provident institution connected with photography. The
whole amount, or even the half of it, would have made a very handsome
nucleus for the commencement of such a fund. I have heard several wishes
to that effect expressed during the last few days. Doubtless the
committee did the very best thing they could have done for their own
credit and the entire satisfaction of the whole of the subscribers; but
I am afraid an opportunity has been lost in the interest of the
incipient relief fund by not having had a receiver for these stray and
unexpected sums appointed. The praiseworthy act of Messrs. Ross and
Pringle, as noticed in another journal, confirms this impression.

While the subject of a photographers' provident or relief fund is before
me, I may mention that in the Report of the Friendly Societies recently
issued by Mr. Tidd Pratt, he speaks in the highest terms of those
societies which are managed by the members themselves without salaries,
and condemns the extravagance exhibited by the societies of a similar
nature which are conducted by salaried officials. Now, as it is a
friendly society pure and simple that sick or needy photographers ought
to look to for future help, in my opinion the former is the kind of
society that should be established. The movement is not to be started
as a business speculation, and there should be no salaries attached to
any of the offices. Each member joining the provident society should be
prepared to submit to the tax on his time and energies, if elected to
office, as part and parcel of the amount he subscribes for the general
welfare of the body and relief of individual members. For my part, I
object to the contemplated society taking the form of a relief fund
depending upon donations, collections at dinners, &c., for its support.
Such means for raising the necessary funds to start the society may be
allowable; but after it is commenced, every individual connected with it
should be a subscribing member, and not allowed to receive any benefit,
except under the most urgent necessities, until he has paid a certain
number of subscriptions.

During one of my peregrinations about town lately I stumbled upon a very
ferocious doorsman. My attention was suddenly arrested, while passing
one of those photographic establishments which keep a kind of two-legged
hyena prowling up and down before their doors, by hearing the somewhat
startling and cannibalistic exclamation of "I'll eat yer!" Looking
round, I saw that one of those prowling bipeds had fastened upon two
quiet-looking young gentlemen, evidently strangers in town and to town
ways, and had so importuned them to sit for "a correct likeness," until
they turned upon him, and threatened to give him in charge if he did not
desist; when he retaliated by threatening to eat them, and used a great
deal of sanguinary and abusive language as a substitute for more
palatable suavity. Is such an "outsider" or hanger-on a fit and proper
person to join a photographers' provident society, or be the recipient
of a benevolent relief fund?

The South London Photographic Society's annual dinner came off on
Saturday evening last at the "Salutation Tavern," Newgate Street.
Twenty-three members and friends, all told, sat down to dinner, and
enjoyed a thoroughly English repast. After the cloth was removed, the
pleasantest part of the evening commenced. The worthy and honoured
president, the Rev. F. F. Statham, M.A., who occupied the chair, was all
geniality, and gave the toast of the evening--"The South London
Photographic Society"--in his usually felicitous style. To Mr. Jabez
Hughes was allotted the task of proposing the next important
toast--"Photography"--which he did in the most glowing and eloquent
terms, dwelling on the rise and progress of the art in England, its
position in a competitive point of view at the Paris Exhibition,
interspersed with some racy and facetious remarks on the different modes
and kinds of rewards, from the bronze, silver, and gold medals, to the
paper certificates, which he considered the most honourable mentions
that could be given by a discerning public. From that he soared into the
higher aspirations of photographers and sublime regions of photography,
giving, with thrilling effect, a description of the social joys,
scientific pursuits, and human ameliorations to which photography
administers. Mr. Baynham Jones, being the oldest photographer present,
had the honour of replying on behalf of the art. Mr. G. Wharton Simpson,
in very appropriate terms, gave the toast, "Art Photography," which was
responded to by Mr. O. G. Rejlander. Mr. Johnson, of the Autotype
Company, had the honour of proposing the toast "Professional
Photography," which was responded to by Mr. Valentine Blanchard,
who occupied the vice-chair. Other toasts of a professional and
semi-professional character were given and responded to. The intervals
were filled up with part and instrumental music by members of the
Society. Mr. Cooper contributed greatly to the evening's enjoyment by
giving two charming performances on the cornet-a-piston, which were
admirably accompanied by Mr. Henry Cooper on the piano. Taking it all in
all, it was one of the pleasantest and merriest evenings I have ever
enjoyed at the convivial meetings of the South London Photographic
Society, and formed a delightful introduction to the season of universal
festivity which is close at hand.

Christmas, all over the civilized world, is not only a period of festive
reunion, but, according to the only rational interpretation of the word,
a time of good will towards men, and peace upon earth. Photographers,
like other men, have had their little differences of opinion, which have
produced partial estrangements during a portion of the year which will
so soon expire; but let the approaching season, which is held in
commemoration of the birth of the greatest Peacemaker that ever came
among men, be looked upon by all as the fittest time to forget and
forgive all slights, injuries, or insults, real or imaginary; and let
not the great festival of our common faith be clouded or eclipsed by an
angry thought, nor the immeasurable charity of true Christianity be
dimmed by one unforgiving feeling. The light of the Christian faith is a
light that should penetrate to the dark cells of our hearts, and dispel
all the gloomy and corrosive accumulations of controversy that may have
lodged there, and unconsciously eaten away any part of our better
nature. Few of us--none but the most presumptuous--can lay his hand upon
his heart and say, "Mine is immaculate!" None of us are without sin, and
charity and forgiveness are the greatest of the Christian virtues; and
they should be the more carefully studied and practised by all who live
in and by the Light of the world.

_December 15th, 1868._


PHOTOGRAPHY AND THE IMMURED POMPEIIANS.

Everyone must be sensible of the many and varied applications of
photography. Even photographers themselves, familiar as they are with
the capabilities of the art they practise, must necessarily have their
wonder excited occasionally at the scope of their art-science,
especially when they consider that the process, as practised at the
present day, is not more than seventeen years old. That it should be the
historian of the life and manners of the present period more fully and
faithfully than any written account, is not so much a matter of
surprise. Appealing, as it does, to the vanity and affections of the
people, it is at once a recorder of the changes of fashion, a registrar
of marriages, births, and deaths, and a truthful illustrator of the
times in which we live; but that it should be brought to bear upon the
past, and make the inhabitants of the world in the nineteenth century
familiar with the forms, fashions, manners, life, and death of the
people of the first century of the Christian Era, is something to be
marvelled at, and at first seems an impossibility. Yet such is the fact;
and photography has been made the cheap and easy means of informing the
present generation of the manner in which the ancients behaved,
suffered, and died in the midst of one of the most appalling
catastrophes that ever overtook the inhabitants of any part of the
world, ancient or modern, as vividly and undeniably as if the calamity
had occurred but yesterday.

The foregoing reflections were excited by seeing very recently some
photographs from plaster casts of the forms of human beings as they had
fallen and died when Pompeii and Herculaneum were destroyed by the first
known and terrible eruption of Mount Vesuvius. The photographs alluded
to reveal with a fearful fidelity the dreadful agonies of some of those
who perished at Pompeii, and, while looking at the pictures, it is very
difficult to divest the mind of the idea that they are not the works of
some ancient photographer who plied his lens and camera immediately
after the eruption had ceased, so forcibly do they carry the mind back
to the time and place of the awful immurement of both a town and its
people.

That these photographs were not obtained from the lifeless forms of the
Pompeiians the reader will readily understand, for their bodies have not
been preserved entire from that day to this. The question then naturally
arises, "How could plaster casts be obtained from which the photographs
were produced?" To answer that question I must briefly explain that
Pompeii was not, as is generally understood, destroyed by an overflow of
red hot lava, which would have burnt up every particle of human flesh
with which it came in contact almost instantly, without leaving a mould
or impress of the form which it surrounded. The _black mud_ which flowed
from Vesuvius into the doomed town of Pompeii entombed the houses and
inhabitants--covered them up and formed a thick crust over them, which
gradually hardened, and as the bodies crumbled away to dust a mould or
matrix was left, from which plaster casts of great beauty and finish
might have been obtained of almost everything that was destroyed.
Unfortunately, this was not discovered until very recently, after many
of the beautiful moulds had been destroyed by the process of hurried,
thoughtless, and unsystematic excavation. It was only a short time
ago, since Naples was united to Italy, that careful and intelligent
excavation secured to future generations impressions from those matrices
made by the most terrible process of natural mould making.

Sig. Fiorelli, who was appointed superintendent of excavations at
Pompeii, happily thought of obtaining casts from these natural moulds by
pouring in soft plaster of Paris, and thus secure more useful mementos
than by preserving the moulds themselves. Amongst the first casts thus
obtained were the forms of four human beings, described as follows in
the _Quarterly Review_ for 1864:--

"These four persons had perished in the streets. Driven from their
homes, they sought to flee when it was too late. These victims of the
eruption were not found together, and they do not appear to have
belonged to the same family or household. The most interesting of the
casts is that of two women, probably mother and daughter, lying feet to
feet; they appear from their garb to have been people of poor condition.
The elder seems to lie tranquilly on her side, overcome by the noxious
gases. She probably fell and died without a struggle. Her limbs are
extended, and her left arm drops loosely. On one finger is still seen
her coarse iron ring. Her child was a girl of fifteen; she seems,
poor thing, to have struggled hard for life. Her legs are drawn up
convulsively. Her little hands are clenched in agony. In one she holds
her veil, or part of her dress with which she had covered her head,
burying her face in her arms to shield herself from the falling ashes
and from the foul, sulphurous smoke. The form of her head is perfectly
preserved. The texture of her coarse linen garments may be traced, and
even the fashion of her dress, with its long sleeves reaching to her
wrists. Here and there it is torn, and the smooth young skin appears in
the plaster like polished marble. On her tiny feet may still be seen her
embroidered sandals. At some distance from this group lay a third woman,
apparently about the age of twenty-five, and belonging to a better
class. Silver rings were on her fingers. She lay on her side, and had
died in great agony. Her garments had been gathered up on one side,
leaving exposed a limb of the most beautiful form. She had fled with her
little treasure, two silver cups, a few jewels, and some silver coins,
and her keys, like a careful matron. The fourth cast is that of a man of
the people, perhaps a common soldier. He is almost of colossal size. He
lies on his back, his arms extended by his side, and his feet stretched
out, as if, finding escape impossible, he had laid himself down to meet
death like a brave man. His dress consists of a short coat or jerkin,
and tight-fitting breeches of some coarse stuff, perhaps leather; heavy
sandals, with soles studded with nails, are laced tightly round his
ankles. On one finger is seen his iron ring. His features are strongly
marked, his mouth open, as in death. Some of his teeth still remain, and
even part of the moustache adheres to the plaster."

Such is the description of the plaster casts; and the photographs which
I possess of those casts convey to the mind at one glance all that is
there written. Wonderful photography! How eloquent in their silence are
thy pictures! To what more dignified and sublime uses could any art be
put? Only a few can look upon those casts of the dead Pompeiians in the
Museum of Naples, but the whole world may view the photographs taken
from them, and look upon the Pompeiians in their forms and habits as
they died, and read a page from the unwritten histories of those
terrible death-struggles, when the strong man, the tender, placid
mother, and the young and delicate maiden were all entombed in that
fearful sea of mud, amidst darkness and horrors that can never be
adequately described.

Such an awful catastrophe will never cease to interest the student of
ancient history, and photography will now be the means of deepening his
interest, and revealing to his mind with greater force and lucidity many
scenes that actually occurred at the very moment of the appalling
destruction of Pompeii, on the 24th of August, A.D. 79.


A SIMPLE MODE OF INTENSIFYING NEGATIVES.

Undoubtedly the best possible practice of photography is that which
requires no after intensification in the production of a first-class
negative. This, however, though a "consummation devoutly to be wished,"
is not always attained, even by the most experienced photographer. Every
operator knows that there is sometimes a condition of things that
renders a simple and efficient process of intensifying afterwards
indispensable.

Of all the modes of intensifying--and their name is legion--I think the
readiest and most generally useful has been much neglected. The
persulphate of uranium and ferridcyanide of potassium process gave
wonderfully charming results. But what of that? It was completely
impracticable, and a failure, in consequence of its tendency to go on
increasing in intensity in the hands of the printer.

The bichloride of mercury and iodine processes, unlimited in number,
also went on increasing in an unlimited degree, and no amount of
"roasting" could reduce the negatives so treated to the desirable degree
of transparency that would enable any printer to obtain good
impressions. There is, however, one of the bichloride of mercury
processes, published some years ago, which I modified so as to give the
most satisfactory results. It rendered the negative sufficiently
intense, and preserved the most exquisite modelling, without changing
afterwards; but the process was very troublesome, and not very
agreeable.

The simplest, cheapest, and most reliable process of intensifying
negatives that I know of is with sulphuret of potassium (liver of
sulphur) used in the following manner:--

Make a very dilute solution of sulphuret of potassium, put it into any
old gutta-percha or porcelain bath; and, after the negative is developed
as far as is desirable with the ordinary iron developer, fixed, and
washed in the usual way, immerse the plate in that state at once into
the solution of sulphuret of potassium, in the same manner as in
sensitising the plate in the nitrate bath, by using a dipper, and leave
it there until sufficiently intense, which is generally in about the
time required for coating and sensitising another plate, so that, if the
operator be working single-handed, very little, if any, time is lost in
the process of intensifying.

The solution may also be flooded over the plate in the same manner as
the developer, after fixing and washing as before.

When sufficiently intense, rinse the plate with water, dry, and varnish
in the ordinary way. But it is best to use the intensifier in the manner
first described, which is by far the most cleanly and economical plan,
both in the saving of time and solution. By using it with the "bath and
dipper," it is not offensive, on account of its extreme dilution, and
not being disturbed so much, or immediately under the olfactory nerves
of the operator, it may be worked in the ordinary dark room with the
greatest safety and convenience.


A STRING OF OLD BEADS.

He is a rash man who announces "something new" in these days. I believe
there is nothing new under the sun, and in photography especially. If
any man be rash enough to rush into print with what he considers a new
idea, some other man rushes into print also and says the idea is old,
exploded, useless, worthless, or worse.

I lay no claim to originality. I have lived so long in the atmosphere of
photography, I don't know where or how I picked up my knowledge--such as
it is. Some of it I may have stumbled on, some of it I may have found,
and some of it I may have stolen. If the latter, I forget from whom,
when, or where, and in all such cases a bad memory is a good and
convenient thing. But I will endeavour to atone for such sins by
publicly restoring all I may have filched from other men's brains for
the benefit of all whom it may concern. I shall not count the beads;
that would be like running over a rosary, and I object to sub rosa
revelations; neither shall I attend to the order of stringing the beads,
but will put them on record just as they come to hand; and the first
is--

_How to Make Vignette Papers._--Take a piece of sensitised paper, lay it
under a piece of glass and let it blacken. Then take a camels'-hair
pencil dipped in a weak solution of cyanide of potassium, and paint the
extreme size and shape of the desired aperture. Let it dry, and with a
little stronger solution of cyanide paint _within_ the size and shape,
and then with a stronger solution paint the centre, which will be
perfectly white and semi-transparent. The object of using the three
strengths of solution and painting three separate times is to obtain
gradation, and the edges will be yellow and softened like a vignette
glass. These vignette papers can be attached to the back of the negative
or to the outside of the printing-press, and can be used either in shade
or sunshine without materially prolonging the time of printing. The
cost of production is trifling, as any waste piece of paper and spare
time can be employed in making them, and they do not occupy much time in
making; in fact, one can be made in less time than will be spent in
reading this description. I need not expatiate on the advantages of
being able to make a special vignette quickly. Every photographer must
have experienced the difficulty of purchasing a special size and shape
to suit a particular subject.

_How to Point a Pencil._--Rub the pencil to a point in the groove of a
corundum file. This is a better and cheaper pointer than a Yankee
pencil-sharpener, and it puts a finer point to a blacklead pencil than
anything else I know. Retouchers, try it.

_How to Ease a Tight Stopper._--There is nothing more annoying in the
practice of photography than to take up a bottle and find the stopper
_fixed_. In many instances the bottle is broken and time wasted in
trying to remove the fixed stopper. When such an obstinate stopper gets
into your hands, run a little glycerine round the top of the bottle. Set
the bottle down, and in a few minutes the stopper will be free.
Prevention is better than cure. Keep a little glycerine on all your
stoppers. Glycerine agrees with every chemical in photographic use, and
prevents stoppers and bottles coming to grief. In a thousand and one
ways a little glycerine is beyond all price.

_How to Prepare Albumenized Prints for Colouring._--Pour over them a
little matt varnish. This removes the greasiness, and gives a fine tooth
and ivory-like surface for the artist to work upon.

_How to Remove Silver Stains from the White Ground of a
Vignette._--Touch it with a solution of cyanide of potassium, and wash
off immediately. The other parts of the picture will not be injured.

_How to Stipple a Window White or Yellow._--For white, mix a little
dextrine and kaolin in water. Dab the mixture on the glass with a piece
of cotton. For the purpose of obscuration that is quite enough; but if
sightliness be essential, finish by stippling with the ends of a
hog's-hair brush. For yellow, mix a little dextrine and deep orange
chrome in powder together in water, and apply it to the window in the
same manner. Dabbing once or twice with a piece of cotton will exclude
white light and make a luminous dark room. The same mixture makes an
excellent backing for dry plates to prevent halation.


LIGHTS AND LIGHTING.

A great deal has been written and said about lights and lighting--a
great deal too much; yet more must be said and written.

Light is to the photographer what the sickle is to the shearer--a good
reaper can cut well with an indifferent sickle, but an indifferent
reaper never gets a good sickle in his hand. A good photographer, who
also understands light and shade, can produce good pictures in an
ordinary studio. It is the indifferent photographer who runs after
"fancy lights," and is, like a benighted traveller in pursuit of a
will-o'-the-wisp, eventually left floundering in a bog. It is folly to
construct powerful concentrators if powerful reflectors have to be
employed to counteract their defects. If a limited amount of diffused
light be absolutely necessary it is best to retain it and use it in its
simplest and least expensive form.

When I commenced photography glass houses were scarcer in England than
comets in the heavens, and the few that were in existence were all
constructed on false principles. It was not until I visited America that
I saw a _properly_-constructed studio. The Americans were, and are,
prone to give stupid names to sensible things; and the names they gave
to their studios were no exceptions. This, that, and the other
photographer advertised his "mammoth skylight." I went to sit, see, and
be satisfied that their mode of lighting was very superior to ours. I
was convinced _instanter_ that the perpendicular sides and sloping
roofs of our miserable little hothouses were mistakes and things to be
abhorred, while their spacious rooms and "mammoth skylights" were things
to be admired and adopted.

In one of these rooms, and almost without blinds or reflectors, the
sitter could be "worked" on a semi-circle or half oval, and "lighted"
either in front or on either side at pleasure, and with the greatest
facility. I determined, there and then, to build my next studio on
similar principles; but until recently I have had no opportunity of
carrying out my intentions. To get what I required and to make the best
of my situation I had to "fence and fiddle" the district surveyor: but I
gained my point, and the victory was worth the foils and the
fiddlestick.

My studio can be lighted from either side; but the "light of lights" is
the north one, and that is a large fixed window 11 by 9 feet with a
single slope of two and a half feet in the height; that is, two and
a half feet out of the perpendicular at the top, with no other top light
and no perpendicular side light. With this light I do all ordinary work.
I can work round the light from one side of the room to the other, as
under a mammoth skylight, without using either blind or reflector. If I
want Rembrandt effects I have only to open a shutter on the south side,
and let in subdued sunlight. That at once becomes the dominant light,
and the north light illumines the shadows. The bottom of the north light
is three feet from the floor.

The advantages of this form of studio are these. It is cool, because no
more light is admitted than is absolutely necessary. It is neat, because
no rag-like curtains are hanging about. It is clean, because there is
nothing to collect dirt. It is dry, because the pitch of the roof
renders leakage impossible. It is pleasant to the sitter, because of
these desirabilities, and that the light is not distressing. It is
agreeable to the operator, because the work is easy and everything is
comfortable.


Printed by Piper & Carter, 5, Furnival Street, Holborn, London, E.C.




SEVEN NEW SIZES,

ALL WITH

TRANSPARENT

FILM.

   [Illustration: Kodak Film Camera]

No apparatus connected with Photography has ever excited so much
interest as

THE KODAK.

The No. 1, making a round picture, was only the entering wedge, and
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This year we beg to call your attention to SEVEN NEW
SIZES, viz.:--

  No. 2,     3-1/2 inch Circular Picture, one finder.
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  No. 3,     Junior,        "
  No, 4,     Regular, 4 × 5,
  No. 4,     Junior,    "
  No. 4,     Folding,   "
  No. 5,       "      5 × 7,           "      "             "

_Send for the New KODAK PRIMER, fully describing all sizes and styles._


  THE EASTMAN PHOTOGRAPHIC MATERIALS COMPANY, Limited,
  115, Oxford Street, London, W.




IT IS ADMITTED by Every Competent Authority THAT WRATTEN'S 'LONDON'
PLATES ARE THE UNIVERSAL STANDARD OF EXCELLENCE AND COMPARISON.

This high reputation has been sustained against a host of competitors
for twelve years:--a fact without parallel in the annals of the Gelatine
process.


Messrs. Wratten & Wainwright's Complete Illustrated Catalogue contains
full Particulars and Prices of a large and varied Stock of Photographic
Requirements, together with specially-written Instructions for
developing the "London" Plates, Printing, Toning, and other operations,
and will be forwarded free upon application to

  WRATTEN & WAINWRIGHT,
  PHOTOGRAPHIC CHEMISTS AND APPARATUS MAKERS,
  AND
  Sole Proprietors and Manufacturers of the
  "London" Dry Plates,
  38, GREAT QUEEN STREET, LONG ACRE,
  LONDON, W.C.




THE AUTOTYPE COMPANY

MANUFACTURES

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FOR PERMANENT PHOTOGRAPHIC PRINTING.


    =AUTOTYPE ENLARGEMENTS.=--Portraits and Views produced of any
      dimensions up to 5 ft. by 3 ft. 6 in.; their grandeur, beauty,
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    =AUTOTYPE DRY PLATES=, manufactured with Burton's Coating Machine,
      are rich in silver, very rapid, yielding clear vigorous negatives,
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    =BOOK ILLUSTRATIONS=, by Sawyer's =Collotype Process=, employed by
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      Engraving on Copper is of wide application in the reproduction of
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      negatives direct from nature. Examples of Auto-gravure, in the
      reproduction of paintings by Holman Hunt, the late Frank Holl,
      R.A., W. Ouless, R.A., Val. Prinsep, A.R.A., of drawings by Hy.
      Rylands, of a frieze, "Spring," by Herbert Draper, of a Group from
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       *       *       *       *       *

The AUTOTYPE FINE ART GALLERY,

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is remarkable for its display of Copies of celebrated Works by

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Albums of reference to the various Galleries are provided, are easily
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The AUTOTYPE FINE ART CATALOGUE, 186 pp., free per post for 6d.


THE AUTOTYPE COMPANY, LONDON.

Offices: 74, New Oxford Street, w. c. -- Works: Ealing Dene, Middlesex.




  =Grand Prix & Gold Medal, Paris Exhibition, 1889.=
  Council Medal and Highest Award, Great Exhibition, London, 1851.
  Gold Medal, Paris Exposition, 1867. Medal and Highest Award,
    Exhibition, London, 1862.
  Medal and Diploma, Antwerp. 1878.
  Medal and Diploma, Centennial Exhibition, Philadelphia, 1875.
  Two Gold Medals, Paris Exposition, 1878. Medal and Diploma,
    Sydney, 1879.
  Gold Medal, Highest Award, Inventions Exhibition, 1885.


ROSS' LENSES AND APPARATUS.

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT.

In consequence of the greatly increased demand for their Photographic
Cameras and Apparatus, Ross & Co. have fitted up the first floor of
112, New Bond Street, as


SPECIAL SHOW ROOMS

for exhibiting the newest and most improved forms of

CAMERAS AND ACCESSORIES OF ALL DESCRIPTIONS.

For the convenience of purchasers, they have also constructed

_A FULLY EQUIPPED DARK ROOM,_

where the Apparatus may be practically tested, and

USEFUL INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO BEGINNERS.

Amateurs are invited to inspect ROSS' COMPLETE OUTFITS.


ROSS' IMPROVED CAMERAS.

Extra Light and Portable; Double Extension.

New Form DOUBLE SLIDE,

=Less Costly than the Ordinary Form of Dark Slide.=

  Absolutely Light-proof. Smaller than Ordinary. No Superfluous Openings.
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  No chance of Warping.


SPECIAL SMALL & LIGHT CAMERAS,

=For use with the New Form Double Slide.=


_Catalogues and Full Particulars, with Estimates, on application to_

ROSS & CO., 112, NEW BOND STREET, LONDON.

Works: Clapham Common, S.W.




  H. MOORSE,
  Photographic Apparatus Manufacturer
  TO THE GOVERNMENT (Established over 25 years),
  154, High Holborn, London, W.C.
  (Near New Oxford Street and Museum Street.)


SQUARE CAMERA.

LIGHT CAMERA.

Both one price. Cash with Order, 10 per cent. off.

   [Illustration: Bellows Cameras]

                       4-1/4 × 3-1/2    6-1/2 × 4-3/4    8-1/2 × 6-1/2
                          £  s. d.         £  s. d.         £  s. d.

  Camera and Three        6  0  0          7 10  0          9  8  0
  Double Backs.

  Rectilinear Lens        3  0  0          3 10  0          5  0  0
  with Iris Diaphragm
  Travelling Bag.

  Brown Canvas with       0 18  0          1  0  0          1  2  0
  Spring Lock.

  Solid Leather Spring    1  5  0          1  8  0          1 12  0
  Lock.

  Rotating Turn Table     1  7  0          1 12  0          1 12  0
  with Tripod Stand.

  Brass Binding Camera    1  5  0          1  5  0          1 10  0
  and Slide.

                         10 × 8    12 × 10   15 × 12   18 × 16   24 × 18
                         £  s. d.  £  s. d.  £  s. d.  £  s. d.  £  s. d.

  Camera and three      11 15  0  14 14  0  18 18  0  24  0  0  26  0  0
  Double Backs.

  Rectilinear Lens       6 10  0   8 10  0  10 10  0  16 15  0  25  0  0
  with Iris Diaphragm   (2 cases)
  Travelling Bag.

  Brown Canvas with      1 15  0   2 10  0   3 12  0   4 14  0   6  0  0
  Spring Lock.

  Solid Leather Spring   2  5  0   3  5  0   4 15  0   6  5  0   8  0  0
  Lock.

  Rotating Turn Table    2  0  0   2  5  0   2 10  0   2 15  0   3  5  0
  with Tripod Stand.

  Brass Binding Camera   1 12  0   2  0  0   2 12  0   3  3  0   4  4  0
  and Slide.

CAMERA BELLOWS.

  Outside Size.      Length.   Leather.   Black Cloth.
      6     × 5         8          3/3          2/3
      6     × 6         9          3/6          3/-
      7-1/2 × 7-1/2    12          8/-          6/-
      9-1/2 × 9-1/2    18         12/-          8/6
     11     × 11       18         14/-          9/-
     13     × 13       20         15/-         11/-
     17     × 17       22         20/-         15/-
     18     × 24       30         40/-         30/-
     24     × 24       60        100/-         80/-


POCKET OR HAND CAMERAS, WITH THREE DOUBLE BACKS.

    4-1/4 × 3-1/4, £3 3s. 6-1/2 × 4-3/4, £4 4s.




MARION & CO.'S PLATES.

_Manufactured at their Works, Southgate._


  BRITANNIA ORDINARY PLATES (Yellow Label.)

  BRITANNIA EXTRA RAPID " (White Label.)

  INSTANTANEOUS         " (Brown Label.)
  Prepared specially for extremely rapid work.

  ACADEMY LANDSCAPE PLATES (Cream Label.)
  Specially prepared for Landscape work; very thickly coated and rich in
  Silver.

       *       *       *       *       *

  Marion's Argentic-Bromide Opals.
  Principally used for Enlargements and Contact printing. Very effective.

  COWAN'S GELATINO-CHLORIDE PLATES (Green Label).
  For Lantern Slide Work.

  COWAN'S CHLORO-BROMIDE PLATES (Violet Label).
  For making Transparencies in the Camera.

  COWAN'S GELATINO-CHLORIDE TRANSPARENCY PLATES.
  On ground glass.

  COWAN'S ORGANIC CHLORIDE OPALS (Red Label).
  Printed and toned like ordinary sensitised paper. Very artistic. They
  must be used fresh.


MARION & CO., 22 and 23, Soho Square,
LONDON.




For PHOTOGRAPHIC

GOODS AND PROMPT ATTENTION

GO TO

J. WERGE,

PHOTOGRAPHIC STORES,

11a, Berners Street, Oxford Street, London. W.


     WERGE'S "Sans Ammonia Developer" is used by numerous expert
       amateurs. A 1/- bottle will develop 128 quarter-plates,
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     WERGE'S Dry Plate Varnish dries without heat, and protects the
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     WERGE'S Retouching Medium, 1/- per bottle.

     WERGE'S Sensitised Paper is the best. 12/6 per quire; sample
       sheet 10d. post free.

     WERGE'S Borax Toning Solution gives the best tones, and is
       simplest and most economical. 1/- per pint.

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       trouble. 1/- per sheet.

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     WERGE'S Dry Plate Instructions are the best ever published.
       1/1-1/2 post free, including Jabez Hughes's "Principles and
       Practice of Photography." Wet Plate Process, Printing, &c., &c.




J. H. DALLMEYER, OPTICIAN,

25, NEWMAN STREET, LONDON, W.

Has obtained the highest awards for his Lenses wherever exhibited, and
at all the great International Exhibitions.

       *       *       *       *       *

CASH PRICES OF THE PRINCIPAL PORTRAIT AND VIEW LENSES:

  EXTRA RAPID (C).
                    in.            in.
  2C, For Children, 2-3/4 dia. 4-1/2 f.  £15 15  0
  3C       "        3-1/2  "   6     f.   26  5  0

  QUICK ACTING (B).
                        in.        distance.
  1B,        for C.D.V. 2     dia. 12 ft.  £6  5  0
  1B Long,       "      2-1/8  "   14 ft.   6 15  0
  2B,            "      2-3/4  "   18 ft.  12 16  0
  2B Patent,     "      2-3/4  "   18 ft.  13  5  0
  3B   "     Cabts. and 3-1/2  "   18 ft.  20  0  0
  4B   "       larger   4-1/2  "   25 ft.  40  0  0


NEW RAPID RECTILINEAR PORTRAIT LENSES.

See descriptive Catalogue.


ORDINARY INTENSITY (A)--Patent.

  1A, for Cabinets, in short rooms.
      dia. 2-3/4 in., distance 14 ft.          £13  0  0
  2A, for Cabinets up to 8-1/2 × 6-1/2,
      dia. 3-1/2 in., distance 20 feet          18  0  0
  3A, for Cabinets up to 9 × 7,
      dia. 4 in., distance 24 feet              27  5  0
  4A, for Imperial Portraits and 10 × 8
      dia. 4-1/2 in., focus 14 in.              38 10  0
  5A, for plates 15 × 12 and under,
      dia. 5 in., focus 18 in.                  50  0  0
  6A, for plates 20 × 16 and under,
      dia. 6 in., focus 22 in.                  60  0  0


PORTRAIT AND GROUP (D)--Patent.

  3D, Portraits 8-1/2 × 6-1/2, Views 10 × 8,
      dia. 2-1/8 in., focus 10-1/2 in.           9 10  0
  4D, Portraits 10 × 8, Views 12 × 10,
      dia. 2-7/8 in., focus 13 in.              13 10  0
  5D, Portraits 12 × 10, Views 15 × 12,
      dia. 3-1/4 in., focus 16 in.              17 10  0
  6D, Portraits 15 × 12, View. 18 × 16,
      dia. 4 in., focus 19-1/2 in.              26 10  0
  7D, Portraits 18 × 16, Views 22 × 20,
      dia. 5 in., focus 24 in.                  48  0  0
  8D, Portraits 22 × 20, Views 25 × 21,
      dia. 6 in., focus 30 in.                  58  0  0


STEREOSCOPIC LENSES.

  Patent Stereographic Lens, 3-3/4-in. f.          4  5  0
  Ditto, with rack-and-pinion                      4 15  0
  No. 1, Quick-acting Single Combination
    Landscape Lens, 4-1/2 in. focus                2  0  0
  No. 2, Ditto ditto 6 in. focus                   2  5  0
  Rect. Stereo. Lenses, 2 in. & 2-1/2 in. focus    4  0  0


NEW RECTILINEAR LANDSCAPE LENS (Patent).

       Largest
       Dimensions            Diameter     Equiv.
  No.  of Plate.             of Lenses.   Focus.      Price.
  --   --------------------  -----------  ----------  --------
  1     6-1/2 by  4-3/4 in.  1-1/2   in.   8-1/2 in.  £4 15  0
  2     8-1/2 "   6-1/2 "    1-3/4    "   11-1/2  "    6  0  0
  3    10     "   8     "    2        "   13-1/2  "    8  0  0
  4    12     "  10     "    2-1/4    "   16-1/2  "   10  5  0
  5    15     "  12     "    2-2/3    "   20      "   12 10  0
  6    18     "  16     "    3        "   25      "   16  0  0
  7    22     "  20     "    3-1/2    "   32      "   21  0  0


OPTICAL LANTERN LENSES ONLY (Patent).

  No. 1 Lens, 1-1/2 in. and 1-3/4 in. dia. with Rack Motion  £ 4  0
  No. 2  do.  1-3/4 in. and 2 in.      do.       do.           5  0
  _Condensers_--3-1/2 in. dia. mounted, ea.                  £ 5  0
     _Do._      4     in. do.    do.    do.                    6  0


RAPID RECTILINEAR (PATENT).

The best Lens for general use out-of-doors, and for Copying.

                                                          Price,
  Size of View          Size of Group        Equiv.       Rigid
  or Landscape.         or Portrait.         Focus.       Setting.
  --------------------  -------------------  -----------  --------
   4-1/4 by  3-1/4 in.   3-1/4 by 3-1/4 in.    4     in.  £3 15 0
   5     "   4     "     4-1/4 "  3-1/4 "      6     "     4 10 0
   6     "   5     "     5     "  4     "      8-1/4 "     5 10 0
   8-1/2 "   6-1/2 "     8     "  5     "     11     "     7  0 0
  10     "   8     "     8-1/2 "  6-1/2 "     13     "     9  0 0
  12     "  10     "    10     "  8     "     16     "    11  0 0
  13     "  11     "     French size          17-1/2 "    12  0 0
  15     "  12     "    12    by 10    in.    19-1/2 "    15  0 0
  18     "  16     "    15    "  12    "      24     "    20  0 0
  22     "  20     "    18    "  16    "      30     "    27  0 0
  25     "  21     "    22    "  20    "      33     "    32  0 0



WIDE ANGLE RECTILINEAR (Patent).

For Views in Confined Situations.

           Largest
           Dimensions         Back         Equiv.
    No.    of Plate.          Focus.       Focus.       Price
    ---    ----------------   ----------   -----------  --------
  [A]AA     7-1/4 by  4-1/2    1-1/2 in.    4      in.  £4 10 0
     1A     8-1/2 "   6-1/2    4-5/8 "      5-1/4  "     5 10 0
     1     12     "  10        6-1/4 "      7      "     7 10 0
     2     15     "  12        7-1/2 "      8-1/2  "    10 10 0
     3     18     "  16       11     "     13      "    14  0 0
     4     22     "  20       14     "     15-1/2  "    20  0 0
     5     25     "  21       17     "     19      "    30  0 0

  [A] To be had in pairs for Stereoscopic Views.


WIDE ANGLE LANDSCAPE LENS (Patent), for Landscapes, pure and simple.

       Size of           Equivalent
  No.  Plate.            Focus.       Price.
  ---  ----------------  ----------   --------
  1A    5     by  4        5-1/4 in.  £3  5  0
  1     7-1/4 "   4-1/2    7     "     3 15  0
  2     8-1/2 "   6-1/2    8-1/2 "     4 10  0
  3    10     "   8       10     "     5 10  0
  4    12     "  10       12     "     7  0  0
  5    15     "  12       15     "     8 10  0
  5A   15     "  12       18     "     9 10  0
  6    18     "  16       18     "    10 10  0
  7    22     "  20       22     "    14  0  0
  8    25     "  21       25     "    19  0  0


NEW RAPID LANDSCAPE LENS.

For Distant Objects and Views.

       Largest
       Dimensions            Diameter    Equiv.  Price.
  No.  of Plate.             of Lenses.  Focus.
  ---  --------------------  ----------  ------  --------
  1     6-1/2 by  4-3/4 in.  1·3   in.    9 in.  £4 10  0
  2     8-1/2 "   6-1/2 "    1·6   "     12 "     5 15  0
  3    10     "   8     "    2·125 "     15 "     7 10  0
  4    12     "  10     "    2·6   "     18 "     9 10  0
  5    15     "  12     "    3     "     22 "    11 10  0
  6    18     "  16     "    3·5   "     25 "    14  0  0
  7    22     "  20     "    4·25  "     30 "    17 10  0


_DALLMEYER "On the Choice and Use of Photographic Lenses."_

Eighth Thousand (Greatly Enlarged), 1s.

Descriptive Catalogue on application.

25, NEWMAN STREET, OXFORD STREET, LONDON, W.




       *       *       *       *       *




Transcriber's note:

Obvious typographical errors were corrected. The spelling of French
words has been made consistent. Also made consistent were those words
which appear as hyphenated, joined or as two individual words (for
example, first class to first-class and some one to someone). Other
corrections were made where inconsistent or incorrect spellings were
used in the publication. Where the inconsistencies occur in publication
titles or quoted text passages, they were left as published.

All "oe" ligatures in the printed text were converted to the letters
"oe".

Some of the entries in the INDEX appear to be missorted alphabetically.
They were left as printed.

On page 114, one line ends with "modifica-" and it is assumed "tion"
was left off the next line.

Typographical Corrections

  Page   Correction
  ====   =======================
   114   modifica- => modification
   131   Willat's => Willats's
   134   intotroduced => introduced
   163   Frith => Firth
   177   Coxackie => Coxsackie
   186   Pearce => Pierce
   248   Nicolas Maas => Nicolaes Maes