Edison, His Life and Inventions

F >> Frank Lewis Dyer and Thomas Commerford Martin >> Edison, His Life and Inventions


While this mysterious intuitive power has been of the greatest advantage
in connection with the vast number of technical problems that have
entered into his life-work, there have been many remarkable instances
in which it has seemed little less than prophecy, and it is deemed worth
while to digress to the extent of relating two of them. One day in
the summer of 1881, when the incandescent lamp-industry was still
in swaddling clothes, Edison was seated in the room of Major Eaton,
vice-president of the Edison Electric Light Company, talking over
business matters, when Mr. Upton came in from the lamp factory at
Menlo Park, and said: "Well, Mr. Edison, we completed a thousand
lamps to-day." Edison looked up and said "Good," then relapsed into
a thoughtful mood. In about two minutes he raised his head, and said:
"Upton, in fifteen years you will be making forty thousand lamps a day."
None of those present ventured to make any remark on this assertion,
although all felt that it was merely a random guess, based on the
sanguine dream of an inventor. The business had not then really made a
start, and being entirely new was without precedent upon which to base
any such statement, but, as a matter of fact, the records of the lamp
factory show that in 1896 its daily output of lamps was actually about
forty thousand.

The other instance referred to occurred shortly after the Edison Machine
Works was moved up to Schenectady, in 1886. One day, when he was at the
works, Edison sat down and wrote on a sheet of paper fifteen separate
predictions of the growth and future of the electrical business.
Notwithstanding the fact that the industry was then in an immature
state, and that the great boom did not set in until a few years
afterward, twelve of these predictions have been fully verified by the
enormous growth and development in all branches of the art.

What the explanation of this gift, power, or intuition may be, is
perhaps better left to the psychologist to speculate upon. If one were
to ask Edison, he would probably say, "Hard work, not too much sleep,
and free use of the imagination." Whether or not it would be possible
for the average mortal to arrive at such perfection of "guessing" by
faithfully following this formula, even reinforced by the Edison
recipe for stimulating a slow imagination with pastry, is open for
demonstration.

Somewhat allied to this curious faculty is another no less remarkable,
and that is, the ability to point out instantly an error in a mass of
reported experimental results. While many instances could be definitely
named, a typical one, related by Mr. J. D. Flack, formerly master
mechanic at the lamp factory, may be quoted: "During the many years
of lamp experimentation, batches of lamps were sent to the photometer
department for test, and Edison would examine the tabulated test sheets.
He ran over every item of the tabulations rapidly, and, apparently
without any calculation whatever, would check off errors as fast as he
came to them, saying: 'You have made a mistake; try this one over.'
In every case the second test proved that he was right. This wonderful
aptitude for infallibly locating an error without an instant's
hesitation for mental calculation, has always appealed to me very
forcibly."

The ability to detect errors quickly in a series of experiments is one
of the things that has enabled Edison to accomplish such a vast amount
of work as the records show. Examples of the minuteness of detail into
which his researches extend have already been mentioned, and as
there are always a number of such investigations in progress at the
laboratory, this ability stands Edison in good stead, for he is thus
enabled to follow, and, if necessary, correct each one step by step.
In this he is aided by the great powers of a mind that is able to free
itself from absorbed concentration on the details of one problem, and
instantly to shift over and become deeply and intelligently concentrated
in another and entirely different one. For instance, he may have been
busy for hours on chemical experiments, and be called upon suddenly to
determine some mechanical questions. The complete and easy transition
is the constant wonder of his associates, for there is no confusion
of ideas resulting from these quick changes, no hesitation or apparent
effort, but a plunge into the midst of the new subject, and an instant
acquaintance with all its details, as if he had been studying it for
hours.

A good stiff difficulty--one which may, perhaps, appear to be an
unsurmountable obstacle--only serves to make Edison cheerful, and brings
out variations of his methods in experimenting. Such an occurrence will
start him thinking, which soon gives rise to a line of suggestions for
approaching the trouble from various sides; or he will sit down and
write out a series of eliminations, additions, or changes to be worked
out and reported upon, with such variations as may suggest themselves
during their progress. It is at such times as these that his unfailing
patience and tremendous resourcefulness are in evidence. Ideas and
expedients are poured forth in a torrent, and although some of them have
temporarily appeared to the staff to be ridiculous or irrelevant, they
have frequently turned out to be the ones leading to a correct solution
of the trouble.

Edison's inexhaustible resourcefulness and fertility of ideas have
contributed largely to his great success, and have ever been a cause of
amazement to those around him. Frequently, when it would seem to others
that the extreme end of an apparently blind alley had been reached, and
that it was impossible to proceed further, he has shown that there were
several ways out of it. Examples without number could be quoted, but
one must suffice by way of illustration. During the progress of the
ore-milling work at Edison, it became desirable to carry on a certain
operation by some special machinery. He requested the proper person on
his engineering staff to think this matter up and submit a few sketches
of what he would propose to do. He brought three drawings to Edison, who
examined them and said none of them would answer. The engineer remarked
that it was too bad, for there was no other way to do it. Mr. Edison
turned to him quickly, and said: "Do you mean to say that these drawings
represent the only way to do this work?" To which he received the reply:
"I certainly do." Edison said nothing. This happened on a Saturday. He
followed his usual custom of spending Sunday at home in Orange. When he
returned to the works on Monday morning, he took with him sketches he
had made, showing FORTY-EIGHT other ways of accomplishing the desired
operation, and laid them on the engineer's desk without a word.
Subsequently one of these ideas, with modifications suggested by some of
the others, was put into successful practice.

Difficulties seem to have a peculiar charm for Edison, whether they
relate to large or small things; and although the larger matters have
contributed most to the history of the arts, the same carefulness of
thought has often been the means of leading to improvements of permanent
advantage even in minor details. For instance, in the very earliest days
of electric lighting, the safe insulation of two bare wires fastened
together was a serious problem that was solved by him. An iron pot over
a fire, some insulating material melted therein, and narrow strips of
linen drawn through it by means of a wooden clamp, furnished a readily
applied and adhesive insulation, which was just as perfect for the
purpose as the regular and now well-known insulating tape, of which it
was the forerunner.

Dubious results are not tolerated for a moment in Edison's experimental
work. Rather than pass upon an uncertainty, the experiment will be
dissected and checked minutely in order to obtain absolute knowledge,
pro and con. This searching method is followed not only in chemical or
other investigations, into which complexities might naturally enter,
but also in more mechanical questions, where simplicity of construction
might naturally seem to preclude possibilities of uncertainty. For
instance, at the time when he was making strenuous endeavors to obtain
copper wire of high conductivity, strict laboratory tests were made of
samples sent by manufacturers. One of these samples tested out poorer
than a previous lot furnished from the same factory. A report of this to
Edison brought the following note: "Perhaps the ---- wire had a bad spot
in it. Please cut it up into lengths and test each one and send results
to me immediately." Possibly the electrical fraternity does not realize
that this earnest work of Edison, twenty-eight years ago, resulted in
the establishment of the high quality of copper wire that has been
the recognized standard since that time. Says Edison on this point:
"I furnished the expert and apparatus to the Ansonia Brass and Copper
Company in 1883, and he is there yet. It was this expert and this
company who pioneered high-conductivity copper for the electrical
trade."

Nor is it generally appreciated in the industry that the adoption of
what is now regarded as a most obvious proposition--the high-economy
incandescent lamp--was the result of that characteristic foresight which
there has been occasion to mention frequently in the course of this
narrative, together with the courage and "horse-sense" which have
always been displayed by the inventor in his persistent pushing out
with far-reaching ideas, in the face of pessimistic opinions. As is
well known, the lamps of the first ten or twelve years of incandescent
lighting were of low economy, but had long life. Edison's study of the
subject had led him to the conviction that the greatest growth of
the electric-lighting industry would be favored by a lamp taking less
current, but having shorter, though commercially economical life;
and after gradually making improvements along this line he developed,
finally, a type of high-economy lamp which would introduce a most
radical change in existing conditions, and lead ultimately to highly
advantageous results. His start on this lamp, and an expressed desire to
have it manufactured for regular use, filled even some of his business
associates with dismay, for they could see nothing but disaster ahead
in forcing such a lamp on the market. His persistence and profound
conviction of the ultimate results were so strong and his arguments so
sound, however, that the campaign was entered upon. Although it took two
or three years to convince the public of the correctness of his views,
the idea gradually took strong root, and has now become an integral
principle of the business.

In this connection it may be noted that with remarkable prescience
Edison saw the coming of the modern lamps of to-day, which, by reason of
their small consumption of energy to produce a given candle-power, have
dismayed central-station managers. A few years ago a consumption of 3.1
watts per candle-power might safely be assumed as an excellent average,
and many stations fixed their rates and business on such a basis. The
results on income when the consumption, as in the new metallic-filament
lamps, drops to 1.25 watts per candle can readily be imagined. Edison
has insisted that central stations are selling light and not current;
and he points to the predicament now confronting them as truth of his
assertion that when selling light they share in all the benefits of
improvement, but that when they sell current the consumer gets all
those benefits without division. The dilemma is encountered by central
stations in a bewildered way, as a novel and unexpected experience; but
Edison foresaw the situation and warned against it long ago. It is one
of the greatest gifts of statesmanship to see new social problems years
before they arise and solve them in advance. It is one of the greatest
attributes of invention to foresee and meet its own problems in exactly
the same way.



CHAPTER XXV

THE LABORATORY AT ORANGE AND THE STAFF

A LIVING interrogation-point and a born investigator from childhood,
Edison has never been without a laboratory of some kind for upward of
half a century.

In youthful years, as already described in this book, he became ardently
interested in chemistry, and even at the early age of twelve felt the
necessity for a special nook of his own, where he could satisfy his
unconvinced mind of the correctness or inaccuracy of statements and
experiments contained in the few technical books then at his command.

Ordinarily he was like other normal lads of his age--full of boyish,
hearty enjoyments--but withal possessed of an unquenchable spirit of
inquiry and an insatiable desire for knowledge. Being blessed with a
wise and discerning mother, his aspirations were encouraged; and he was
allowed a corner in her cellar. It is fair to offer tribute here to her
bravery as well as to her wisdom, for at times she was in mortal terror
lest the precocious experimenter below should, in his inexperience, make
some awful combination that would explode and bring down the house in
ruins on himself and the rest of the family.

Fortunately no such catastrophe happened, but young Edison worked
away in his embryonic laboratory, satisfying his soul and incidentally
depleting his limited pocket-money to the vanishing-point. It was,
indeed, owing to this latter circumstance that in a year or two his
aspirations necessitated an increase of revenue; and a consequent
determination to earn some money for himself led to his first real
commercial enterprise as "candy butcher" on the Grand Trunk Railroad,
already mentioned in a previous chapter. It has also been related how
his precious laboratory was transferred to the train; how he and it were
subsequently expelled; and how it was re-established in his home, where
he continued studies and experiments until the beginning of his career
as a telegraph operator.

The nomadic life of the next few years did not lessen his devotion to
study; but it stood seriously in the way of satisfying the ever-present
craving for a laboratory. The lack of such a place never prevented
experimentation, however, as long as he had a dollar in his pocket
and some available "hole in the wall." With the turning of the tide of
fortune that suddenly carried him, in New York in 1869, from poverty
to the opulence of $300 a month, he drew nearer to a realization of his
cherished ambition in having money, place, and some time (stolen from
sleep) for more serious experimenting. Thus matters continued until,
at about the age of twenty-two, Edison's inventions had brought him a
relatively large sum of money, and he became a very busy manufacturer,
and lessee of a large shop in Newark, New Jersey.

Now, for the first time since leaving that boyish laboratory in the old
home at Port Huron, Edison had a place of his own to work in, to think
in; but no one in any way acquainted with Newark as a swarming centre
of miscellaneous and multitudinous industries would recommend it as a
cloistered retreat for brooding reverie and introspection, favorable to
creative effort. Some people revel in surroundings of hustle and bustle,
and find therein no hindrance to great accomplishment. The electrical
genius of Newark is Edward Weston, who has thriven amid its turmoil
and there has developed his beautiful instruments of precision; just
as Brush worked out his arc-lighting system in Cleveland; or even as
Faraday, surrounded by the din and roar of London, laid the intellectual
foundations of the whole modern science of dynamic electricity. But
Edison, though deaf, could not make too hurried a retreat from Newark to
Menlo Park, where, as if to justify his change of base, vital inventions
soon came thick and fast, year after year. The story of Menlo has been
told in another chapter, but the point was not emphasized that Edison
then, as later, tried hard to drop manufacturing. He would infinitely
rather be philosopher than producer; but somehow the necessity of
manufacturing is constantly thrust back upon him by a profound--perhaps
finical--sense of dissatisfaction with what other people make for him.
The world never saw a man more deeply and desperately convinced that
nothing in it approaches perfection. Edison is the doctrine of evolution
incarnate, applied to mechanics. As to the removal from Newark, he may
be allowed to tell his own story: "I had a shop at Newark in which I
manufactured stock tickers and such things. When I moved to Menlo Park
I took out only the machinery that would be necessary for experimental
purposes and left the manufacturing machinery in the place. It consisted
of many milling machines and other tools for duplicating. I rented this
to a man who had formerly been my bookkeeper, and who thought he could
make money out of manufacturing. There was about $10,000 worth of
machinery. He was to pay me $2000 a year for the rent of the machinery
and keep it in good order. After I moved to Menlo Park, I was very
busy with the telephone and phonograph, and I paid no attention to this
little arrangement. About three years afterward, it occurred to me that
I had not heard at all from the man who had rented this machinery, so I
thought I would go over to Newark and see how things were going. When I
got there, I found that instead of being a machine shop it was a hotel!
I have since been utterly unable to find out what became of the man
or the machinery." Such incidents tend to justify Edison in his rather
cynical remark that he has always been able to improve machinery much
quicker than men. All the way up he has had discouraging experiences.
"One day while I was carrying on my work in Newark, a Wall Street broker
came from the city and said he was tired of the 'Street,' and wanted to
go into something real. He said he had plenty of money. He wanted some
kind of a job to keep his mind off Wall Street. So we gave him a job
as a 'mucker' in chemical experiments. The second night he was there
he could not stand the long hours and fell asleep on a sofa. One of the
boys took a bottle of bromine and opened it under the sofa. It floated
up and produced a violent effect on the mucous membrane. The broker was
taken with such a fit of coughing he burst a blood-vessel, and the
man who let the bromine out got away and never came back. I suppose he
thought there was going to be a death. But the broker lived, and left
the next day; and I have never seen him since, either." Edison tells
also of another foolhardy laboratory trick of the same kind: "Some of my
assistants in those days were very green in the business, as I did not
care whether they had had any experience or not. I generally tried to
turn them loose. One day I got a new man, and told him to conduct a
certain experiment. He got a quart of ether and started to boil it over
a naked flame. Of course it caught fire. The flame was about four
feet in diameter and eleven feet high. We had to call out the fire
department; and they came down and put a stream through the window. That
let all the fumes and chemicals out and overcame the firemen; and there
was the devil to pay. Another time we experimented with a tub full of
soapy water, and put hydrogen into it to make large bubbles. One of the
boys, who was washing bottles in the place, had read in some book that
hydrogen was explosive, so he proceeded to blow the tub up. There was
about four inches of soap in the bottom of the tub, fourteen inches
high; and he filled it with soap bubbles up to the brim. Then he took a
bamboo fish-pole, put a piece of paper at the end, and touched it off.
It blew every window out of the place."

Always a shrewd, observant, and kindly critic of character, Edison tells
many anecdotes of the men who gathered around him in various capacities
at that quiet corner of New Jersey--Menlo Park--and later at Orange, in
the Llewellyn Park laboratory; and these serve to supplement the main
narrative by throwing vivid side-lights on the whole scene. Here, for
example, is a picture drawn by Edison of a laboratory interlude--just
a bit Rabelaisian: "When experimenting at Menlo Park we had all the way
from forty to fifty men. They worked all the time. Each man was allowed
from four to six hours' sleep. We had a man who kept tally, and when the
time came for one to sleep, he was notified. At midnight we had lunch
brought in and served at a long table at which the experimenters
sat down. I also had an organ which I procured from Hilbourne
Roosevelt--uncle of the ex-President--and we had a man play this
organ while we ate our lunch. During the summertime, after we had made
something which was successful, I used to engage a brick-sloop at Perth
Amboy and take the whole crowd down to the fishing-banks on the Atlantic
for two days. On one occasion we got outside Sandy Hook on the banks and
anchored. A breeze came up, the sea became rough, and a large number of
the men were sick. There was straw in the bottom of the boat, which we
all slept on. Most of the men adjourned to this straw very sick. Those
who were not got a piece of rancid salt pork from the skipper, and cut a
large, thick slice out of it. This was put on the end of a fish-hook
and drawn across the men's faces. The smell was terrific, and the effect
added to the hilarity of the excursion.

"I went down once with my father and two assistants for a little fishing
inside Sandy Hook. For some reason or other the fishing was very poor.
We anchored, and I started in to fish. After fishing for several hours
there was not a single bite. The others wanted to pull up anchor, but
I fished two days and two nights without a bite, until they pulled up
anchor and went away. I would not give up. I was going to catch that
fish if it took a week."

This is general. Let us quote one or two piquant personal observations
of a more specific nature as to the odd characters Edison drew around
him in his experimenting. "Down at Menlo Park a man came in one day and
wanted a job. He was a sailor. I hadn't any particular work to give him,
but I had a number of small induction coils, and to give him something
to do I told him to fix them up and sell them among his sailor friends.
They were fixed up, and he went over to New York and sold them all. He
was an extraordinary fellow. His name was Adams. One day I asked him how
long it was since he had been to sea, and he replied two or three years.
I asked him how he had made a living in the mean time, before he came
to Menlo Park. He said he made a pretty good living by going around to
different clinics and getting $10 at each clinic, because of having the
worst case of heart-disease on record. I told him if that was the case
he would have to be very careful around the laboratory. I had him there
to help in experimenting, and the heart-disease did not seem to bother
him at all.

"It appeared that he had once been a slaver; and altogether he was a
tough character. Having no other man I could spare at that time, I sent
him over with my carbon transmitter telephone to exhibit it in England.
It was exhibited before the Post-Office authorities. Professor Hughes
spent an afternoon in examining the apparatus, and in about a month came
out with his microphone, which was absolutely nothing more nor less
than my exact invention. But no mention was made of the fact that, just
previously, he had seen the whole of my apparatus. Adams stayed over in
Europe connected with the telephone for several years, and finally died
of too much whiskey--but not of heart-disease. This shows how whiskey
is the more dangerous of the two.

"Adams said that at one time he was aboard a coffee-ship in the harbor
of Santos, Brazil. He fell down a hatchway and broke his arm. They took
him up to the hospital--a Portuguese one--where he could not speak the
language, and they did not understand English. They treated him for two
weeks for yellow fever! He was certainly the most profane man we ever
had around the laboratory. He stood high in his class."

And there were others of a different stripe. "We had a man with us at
Menlo called Segredor. He was a queer kind of fellow. The men got in the
habit of plaguing him; and, finally, one day he said to the assembled
experimenters in the top room of the laboratory: 'The next man that does
it, I will kill him.' They paid no attention to this, and next day one
of them made some sarcastic remark to him. Segredor made a start for
his boarding-house, and when they saw him coming back up the hill with
a gun, they knew there would be trouble, so they all made for the woods.
One of the men went back and mollified him. He returned to his work;
but he was not teased any more. At last, when I sent men out hunting for
bamboo, I dispatched Segredor to Cuba. He arrived in Havana on Tuesday,
and on the Friday following he was buried, having died of the black
vomit. On the receipt of the news of his death, half a dozen of the men
wanted his job, but my searcher in the Astor Library reported that the
chances of finding the right kind of bamboo for lamps in Cuba were very
small; so I did not send a substitute."