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MY INVENTIONS
By Nikola Tesla
At the age of 63 Tesla tells the story of his
creative life.
First published in 1919 in the Electrical
Experimenter magazine.
Table of Contents
I. My
Early Life
II. My First Efforts At Invention
III. My Later Endeavors
IV. The Discovery
of the Tesla Coil and Transformer
V. The Magnifying Transmitter
VI. The Art of Telautomatics
The progressive development of
man is vitally dependent on invention. It is the most important product of his
creative brain. Its ultimate purpose is the complete mastery of mind over the
material world, the harnessing of the forces of nature to human needs. This is
the difficult task of the inventor who is often misunderstood and unrewarded.
But he finds ample compensation in the pleasing exercises of his powers and in
the knowledge of being one of that exceptionally privileged class without whom
the race would have long ago perished in the bitter struggle against pitiless
elements.
Speaking for myself, I have
already had more than my full measure of this exquisite enjoyment, so much that
for many years my life was little short of continuous rapture. I am credited
with being one of the hardest workers and perhaps I am, if thought is the
equivalent of labor, for I have devoted to it almost all of my waking hours.
But if work is interpreted to be a definite performance in a specified time
according to a rigid rule, then I may be the worst of idlers. Every effort
under compulsion demands a sacrifice of life-energy. I never paid such a
price. On the contrary, I have thrived on my thoughts.
In attempting to give a connected
and faithful account of my activities in this series of articles which will be
presented with the assistance of the Editors of the ELECTRICAL EXPERIMENTER and
are chiefly addrest to our young men readers, I must dwell, however reluctantly,
on the impressions of my youth and the circumstances and events which have been
instrumental in determining my career.
Our first endeavors are purely
instinctive, promptings of an imagination vivid and undisciplined. As we grow
older reason asserts itself and we become more and more systematic and
designing. But those early impulses, tho not immediately productive, are of the
greatest moment and may shape our very destinies. Indeed, I feel now that had I
understood and cultivated instead of suppressing them, I would have added
substantial value to my bequest to the world. But not until I had attained
manhood did I realize that I was an inventor.
This was due to a number of
causes. In the first place I had a brother who was gifted to an extraordinary
degree—one of those rare phenomena of mentality which biological investigation
has failed to explain. His premature death left my parents disconsolate. We
owned a horse which had been presented to us by a dear friend. It was a
magnificent animal of Arabian breed, possest of almost human intelligence, and
was cared for and petted by the whole family, having on one occasion saved my
father's life under remarkable circumstances. My father had been called one
winter night to perform an urgent duty and while crossing the mountains,
infested by wolves, the horse became frightened and ran away, throwing him
violently to the ground. It arrived home bleeding and exhausted, but after the
alarm was sounded immediately dashed off again, returning to the spot, and
before the searching party were far on the way they were met by my father, who
had recovered consciousness and remounted, not realizing that he had been lying
in the snow for several hours. This horse was responsible for my brother's
injuries from which he died. I witnest the tragic scene and altho fifty-six
years have elapsed since, my visual impression of it has lost none of its
force. The recollection of his attainments made every effort of mine seem dull
in comparison.
Anything I did that was
creditable merely caused my parents to feel their loss more keenly. So I grew
up with little confidence in myself. But I was far from being considered a
stupid boy, if I am to judge from an incident of which I have still a strong
remembrance. One day the Aldermen were passing thru a street where I was at
play with other boys. The oldest of these venerable gentlemen—a wealthy
citizen—paused to give a silver piece to each of us. Coming to me he suddenly
stopt and commanded, "Look in my eyes." I met his gaze, my hand outstretched to
receive the much valued coin, when, to my dismay, he said, "No, not much, you
can get nothing from me, you are too smart." They used to tell a funny story
about me. I had two old aunts with wrinkled faces, one of them having two teeth
protruding like the tusks of an elephant which she buried in my cheek every time
she kist me. Nothing would scare me more than the prospect of being hugged by
these as affectionate as unattractive relatives. It happened that while being
carried in my mother's arms they asked me who was the prettier of the two.
After examining their faces intently, I answered thoughtfully, pointing to one
of them, "This here is not as ugly as the other."
Then again, I was intended from
my very birth for the clerical profession and this thought constantly opprest
me. I longed to be an engineer but my father was inflexible. He was the son of
an officer who served in the army of the Great Napoleon and, in common with his
brother, professor of mathematics in a prominent institution, had received a
military education but, singularly enough, later embraced the clergy in which
vocation he achieved eminence. He was a very erudite man, a veritable natural
philosopher, poet and writer and his sermons were said to be as eloquent as
those of Abraham a Sancta-Clara. He had a prodigious memory and frequently
recited at length from works in several languages. He often remarked playfully
that if some of the classics were lost he could restore them. His style of
writing was much admired. He penned sentences short and terse and was full of
wit and satire. The humorous remarks he made were always peculiar and
characteristic. Just to illustrate, I may mention one or two instances. Among
the help there was a cross-eyed man called Mane, employed to do work around the
farm. He was chopping wood one day. As he swung the axe my father, who stood
nearby and felt very uncomfortable, cautioned him, "For God's sake, Mane, do not
strike at what you are looking but at what you intend to hit." On another
occasion he was taking out for a drive a friend who carelessly permitted his
costly fur coat to rub on the carriage wheel. My father reminded him of it
saying, "Pull in your coat, you are ruining my tire." He had the odd habit of
talking to himself and would often carry on an animated conversation and indulge
in heated argument, changing the tone of his voice. A casual listener might
have sworn that several people were in the room.
Altho I must trace to my mother's
influence whatever inventiveness I possess, the training he gave me must have
been helpful. It comprised all sorts of exercises—as, guessing one another's
thoughts, discovering the defects of some form or expression, repeating long
sentences or performing mental calculations. These daily lessons were intended
to strengthen memory and reason and especially to develop the critical sense,
and were undoubtedly very beneficial.
My mother descended from one of
the oldest families in the country and a line of inventors. Both her father and
grandfather originated numerous implements for household, agricultural and other
uses. She was a truly great woman, of rare skill, courage and fortitude, who
had braved the storms of life and past thru many a trying experience. When she
was sixteen a virulent pestilence swept the country. Her father was called away
to administer the last sacraments to the dying and during his absence she went
alone to the assistance of a neighboring family who were stricken by the dread
disease. All of the members, five in number, succumbed in rapid succession.
She bathed, clothed and laid out the bodies, decorating them with flowers
according to the custom of the country and when her father returned he found
everything ready for a Christian burial. My mother was an inventor of the first
order and would, I believe, have achieved great things had she not been so
remote from modern life and its multifold opportunities. She invented and
constructed all kinds of tools and devices and wove the finest designs from
thread which was spun by her. She even planted the seeds, raised the plants and
separated the fibers herself. She worked indefatigably, from break of day till
late at night, and most of the wearing apparel and furnishings of the home was
the product of her hands. When she was past sixty, her fingers were still
nimble enough to tie three knots in an eyelash.
There was another and still more
important reason for my late awakening. In my boyhood I suffered from a
peculiar affliction due to the appearance of images, often accompanied by strong
flashes of light, which marred the sight of real objects and interfered with my
thought and action. They were pictures of things and scenes which I had really
seen, never of those I imagined. When a word was spoken to me the image of the
object it designated would present itself vividly to my vision and sometimes I
was quite unable to distinguish whether what I saw was tangible or not. This
caused me great discomfort and anxiety. None of the students of psychology or
physiology whom I have consulted could ever explain satisfactorily these
phenomena. They seem to have been unique altho I was probably predisposed as I
know that my brother experienced a similar trouble. The theory I have
formulated is that the images were the result of a reflex action from the brain
on the retina under great excitation. They certainly were not hallucinations
such as are produced in diseased and anguished minds, for in other respects I
was normal and composed. To give an idea of my distress, suppose that I had
witnest a funeral or some such nerve-racking spectacle. Then, inevitably, in
the stillness of night, a vivid picture of the scene would thrust itself before
my eyes and persist despite all my efforts to banish it. Sometimes it would
even remain fixt in space tho I pushed my hand thru it. If my explanation is
correct, it should be able to project on a screen the image of any object one
conceives and make it visible. Such an advance would revolutionize all human
relations. I am convinced that this wonder can and will be accomplished in time
to come; I may add that I have devoted much thought to the solution of the
problem.
To free myself of these
tormenting appearances, I tried to concentrate my mind on something else I had
seen, and in this way I would of ten obtain temporary relief; but in order to
get it I had to conjure continuously new images. It was not long before I found
that I had exhausted all of those at my command; my "reel" had run out, as it
were, because I had seen little of the world—only objects in my home and the
immediate surroundings. As I performed these mental operations for the second
or third time, in order to chase the appearances from my vision, the remedy
gradually lost all its force. Then I instinctively commenced to make excursions
beyond the limits of the small world of which I had knowledge, and I saw new
scenes. These were at first very blurred and indistinct, and would flit away
when I tried to concentrate my attention upon them, but by and by I succeeded in
fixing them; they gained in strength and distinctness and finally assumed the
concreteness of real things. I soon discovered that my best comfort was
attained if I simply went on in my vision farther and farther, getting new
impressions all the time, and so I began to travel—of course, in my mind. Every
night (and sometimes during the day), when alone, I would start on my
journeys—see new places, cities and countries—live there, meet people and make
friendships and acquaintances and, however unbelievable, it is a fact that they
were just as dear to me as those in actual life and not a bit less intense in
their manifestations.
This I did constantly until I was
about seventeen when my thoughts turned seriously to invention. Then I observed
to my delight that I could visualize with the greatest facility. I needed no
models, drawings or experiments. I could picture them all as real in my mind.
Thus I have been led unconsciously to evolve what I consider a new method of
materializing inventive concepts and ideas, which is radically opposite to the
purely experimental and is in my opinion ever so much more expeditious and
efficient. The moment one constructs a device to carry into practise a crude
idea he finds himself unavoidably engrost with the details and defects of the
apparatus. As he goes on improving and reconstructing, his force of
concentration diminishes and he loses sight of the great underlying principle.
Results may be obtained but always at the sacrifice of quality.
My method is different. I do not
rush into actual work. When I get an idea I start at once building it up in my
imagination. I change the construction, make improvements and operate the
device in my mind. It is absolutely immaterial to me whether I run my turbine
in thought or test it in my shop. I even note if it is out of balance. There
is no difference whatever, the results are the same. In this way I am able to
rapidly develop and perfect a conception without touching anything. When I have
gone so far as to embody in the invention every possible improvement I can think
of and see no fault anywhere, I put into concrete form this final product of my
brain. Invariably my device works as I conceived that it should, and the
experiment comes out exactly as I planned it. In twenty years there has not
been a single exception. Why should it be otherwise? Engineering, electrical
and mechanical, is positive in results. There is scarcely a subject that cannot
be mathematically treated and the effects calculated or the results determined
beforehand from the available theoretical and practical data. The carrying out
into practise of a crude idea as is being generally done is, I hold, nothing but
a waste of energy, money and time.
My early affliction had, however,
another compensation. The incessant mental exertion developed my powers of
observation and enabled me to discover a truth of great importance. I had noted
that the appearance of images was always preceded by actual vision of scenes
under peculiar and generally very exceptional conditions and I was impelled on
each occasion to locate the original impulse. After a while this effort grew to
be almost automatic and I gained great facility in connecting cause and effect.
Soon I became aware, to my surprise, that every thought I conceived was
suggested by an external impression. Not only this but all my actions were
prompted in a similar way. In the course of time it became perfectly evident to
me that I was merely an automaton endowed with power of movement, responding to
the stimuli of the sense organs and thinking and acting accordingly. The
practical result of this was the art of telautomatics which has been so far
carried out only in an imperfect manner. Its latent possibilities will,
however, be eventually shown. I have been since years planning self-controlled
automata and believe that mechanisms can be produced which will act as if
possest of reason, to a limited degree, and will create a revolution in many
commercial and industrial departments.
I was about twelve years old when
I first succeeded in banishing an image from my vision by wilful effort, but I
never had any control over the flashes of light to which I have referred. They
were, perhaps, my strangest experience and inexplicable. They usually occurred
when I found myself in a dangerous or distressing situation, or when I was
greatly exhilarated. In some instances I have seen all the air around me filled
with tongues of living flame. Their intensity, instead of diminishing,
increased with time and seemingly attained a maximum when I was about
twenty-five years old. While in Paris, in 1883, a prominent French manufacturer
sent me an invitation to a shooting expedition which I accepted. I had been
long confined to the factory and the fresh air had a wonderfully invigorating
effect on me. On my return to the city that night I felt a positive sensation
that my brain had caught fire. I saw a light as tho a small sun was located in
it and I past the whole night applying cold compressions to my tortured head.
Finally the flashes diminished in frequency and force but it took more than
three weeks before they wholly subsided. When a second invitation was extended
to me my answer was an emphatic NO!
These luminous phenomena still
manifest themselves from time to time, as when a new idea opening up
possibilities strikes me, but they are no longer exciting, being of relatively
small intensity. When I close my eyes I invariably observe first, a background
of very dark and uniform blue, not unlike the sky on a clear but starless
night. In a few seconds this field becomes animated with innumerable
scintillating flakes of green, arranged in several layers and advancing towards
me. Then there appears, to the right, a beautiful pattern of two systems of
parallel and closely spaced lines, at right angles to one another, in all sorts
of colors with yellow-green and gold predominating. Immediately thereafter the
lines grow brighter and the whole is thickly sprinkled with dots of twinkling
light. This picture moves slowly across the field of vision and in about ten
seconds vanishes to the left, leaving behind a ground of rather unpleasant and
inert grey which quickly gives way to a billowy sea of clouds, seemingly trying
to mould themselves in living shapes. It is curious that I cannot project a
form into this grey until the second phase is reached. Every time, before
falling asleep, images of persons or objects flit before my view. When I see
them I know that I am about to lose consciousness. If they are absent and
refuse to come it means a sleepless night.
To what an extent imagination
played a part in my early life I may illustrate by another odd experience. Like
most children I was fond of jumping and developed an intense desire to support
myself in the air. Occasionally a strong wind richly charged with oxygen blew
from the mountains rendering my body as light as cork and then I would leap and
float in space for a long time. It was a delightful sensation and my
disappointment was keen when later I undeceived myself.
During that period I contracted
many strange likes, dislikes and habits, some of which I can trace to external
impressions while others are unaccountable. I had a violent aversion against
the earrings of women but other ornaments, as bracelets, pleased me more or less
according to design. The sight of a pearl would almost give me a fit but I was
fascinated with the glitter of crystals or objects with sharp edges and plane
surfaces. I would not touch the hair of other people except, perhaps, at the
point of a revolver. I would get a fever by looking at a peach and if a piece
of camphor was anywhere in the house it caused me the keenest discomfort. Even
now I am not insensible to some of these upsetting impulses. When I drop little
squares of paper in a dish filled with liquid, I always sense a peculiar and
awful taste in my mouth. I counted the steps in my walks and calculated the
cubical contents of soup plates, coffee cups and pieces of food—otherwise my
meal was unenjoyable. All repeated acts or operations I performed had to be
divisible by three and if I mist I felt impelled to do it all over again, even
if it took hours.
Up to the age of eight years, my
character was weak and vacillating. I had neither courage or strength to form a
firm resolve. My feelings came in waves and surges and vibrated unceasingly
between extremes. My wishes were of consuming force and like the heads of the
hydra, they multiplied. I was opprest by thoughts of pain in life and death and
religious fear. I was swayed by superstitious belief and lived in constant
dread of the spirit of evil, of ghosts and ogres and other unholy monsters of
the dark. Then, all at once, there came a tremendous change which altered the
course of my whole existence. Of all things I liked books the best. My father
had a large library and whenever I could manage I tried to satisfy my passion
for reading. He did not permit it and would fly into a rage when he caught me
in the act. He hid the candles when he found that I was reading in secret. He
did not want me to spoil my eyes. But I obtained tallow, made the wicking and
cast the sticks into tin forms, and every night I would bush the keyhole and the
cracks and read, often till dawn, when all others slept and my mother started on
her arduous daily task. On one occasion I came across a novel entitled "Abafi"
(the Son of Aba), a Serbian translation of a well known Hungarian writer, Josika.
This work somehow awakened my dormant powers of will and I began to practise
self-control. At first my resolutions faded like snow in April, but in a little
while I conquered my weakness and felt a pleasure I never knew before—that of
doing as I willed. In the course of time this vigorous mental exercise became
second nature. At the outset my wishes had to be subdued but gradually desire
and will grew to be identical. After years of such discipline I gained so
complete a mastery over myself that I toyed with passions which have meant
destruction to some of the strongest men. At a certain age I contracted a mania
for gambling which greatly worried my parents. To sit down to a game of cards
was for me the quintessence of pleasure. My father led an exemplary life and
could not excuse the senseless waste of time and money in which I indulged. I
had a strong resolve but my philosophy was bad. I would say to him, "I can stop
whenever I please but is it worth while to give up that which I would purchase
with the joys of Paradise?" On frequent occasions he gave vent to his anger and
contempt but my mother was different. She understood the character of men and
knew that one's salvation could only be brought about thru his own efforts. One
afternoon, I remember, when I had lost all my money and was craving for a game,
she came to me with a roll of bills and said, "Go and enjoy yourself. The
sooner you lose all we possess the better it will be. I know that you will get
over it." She was right. I conquered my passion then and there and only
regretted that it had not been a hundred times as strong. I not only vanquished
but tore it from my heart so as not to leave even a trace of desire. Ever since
that time I have been as indifferent to any form of gambling as to picking
teeth.
During another period I smoked
excessively, threatening to ruin my health. Then my will asserted itself and I
not only stopt but destroyed all inclination. Long ago I suffered from heart
trouble until I discovered that it was due to the innocent cup of coffee I
consumed every morning. I discontinued at once, tho I confess it was not an
easy task. In this way I checked and bridled other habits and passions and have
not only preserved my life but derived an immense amount of satisfaction from
what most men would consider privation and sacrifice.
After finishing the studies at
the Polytechnic Institute and University I had a complete nervous breakdown and
while the malady lasted I observed many phenomena strange and unbelievable.
I shall dwell briefly on these
extraordinary experiences, on account of their possible interest to students of
psychology and physiology and also because this period of agony was of the
greatest consequence on my mental development and subsequent labors. But it is
indispensable to first relate the circumstances and conditions which preceded
them and in which might be found their partial explanation.
From childhood I was compelled to
concentrate attention upon myself. This caused me much suffering but, to my
present view, it was a blessing in disguise for it has taught me to appreciate
the inestimable value of introspection in the preservation of life, as well as a
means of achievement. The pressure of occupation and the incessant stream of
impressions pouring into our consciousness thru all the gateways of knowledge
make modern existence hazardous in many ways. Most persons are so absorbed in
the contemplation of the outside world that they are wholly oblivious to what is
passing on within themselves.
The premature death of millions
is primarily traceable to this cause. Even among those who exercise care it is
a common mistake to avoid imaginary, and ignore the real dangers. And what is
true of an individual also applies, more or less, to a people as a whole.
Witness, in illustration, the prohibition movement. A drastic, if not
unconstitutional, measure is now being put thru in this country to prevent the
consumption of alcohol and yet it is a positive fact that coffee, tea, tobacco,
chewing gum and other stimulants, which are freely indulged in even at the
tender age, are vastly more injurious to the national body, judging from the
number of those who succumb. So, for instance, during my student years I
gathered from the published necrologues in Vienna, the home of coffee drinkers,
that deaths from heart trouble sometimes reached sixty-seven per cent of the
total. Similar observations might probably be made in cities where the
consumption of tea is excessive. These delicious beverages superexcite and
gradually exhaust the fine fibers of the brain. They also interfere seriously
with arterial circulation and should be enjoyed all the more sparingly as their
deleterious effects are slow and imperceptible. Tobacco, on the other hand, is
conducive to easy and pleasant thinking and detracts from the intensity and
concentration necessary to all original and vigorous effort of the intellect.
Chewing gum is helpful for a short while but soon drains the glandular system
and inflicts irreparable damage, not to speak of the revulsion it creates.
Alcohol in small quantities is an excellent tonic, but is toxic in its action
when absorbed in larger amounts, quite immaterial as to whether it is taken in
as whiskey or produced in the stomach from sugar. But it should not be
overlooked that all these are great eliminators assisting Nature, as they do, in
upholding her stern but just law of the survival of the fittest. Eager
reformers should also be mindful of the eternal perversity of mankind which
makes the indifferent "laissez-faire" by far preferable to enforced restraint.
The truth about this is that we
need stimulants to do our best work under present living conditions, and that we
must exercise moderation and control our appetites and inclinations in every
direction. That is what I have been doing for many years, in this way
maintaining myself young in body and mind. Abstinence was not always to my
liking but I find ample reward in the agreeable experiences I am now making.
Just in the hope of converting some to my precepts and convictions I will recall
one or two.
A short time ago I was returning
to my hotel. It was a bitter cold night, the ground slippery, and no taxi to be
had. Half a block behind me followed another man, evidently as anxious as
myself to get under cover. Suddenly my legs went up in the air. In the same
instant there was a flash in my brain, the nerves responded, the muscles
contracted, I swung thru 180 degrees and landed on my hands. I resumed my walk
as tho nothing had happened when the stranger caught up with me. "How old are
you?" he asked, surveying me critically. "Oh, about fifty-nine," I replied.
"What of it?" "Well," said he, "I have seen a cat do this but never a man."
About a month since I wanted to order new eyeglasses and went to an oculist who
put me thru the usual tests. He lookt at me incredulously as I read off with
ease the smallest print at considerable distance. But when I told him that I
was past sixty he gasped in astonishment. Friends of mine often remark that my
suits fit me like gloves but they do not know that all my clothing is made to
measurements which were taken nearly 35 years ago and never changed. During
this same period my weight has not varied one pound.
In this connection I may tell a
funny story. One evening, in the winter of 1885, Mr. Edison, Edward H. Johnson,
the President of the Edison Illuminating Company, Mr. Batchellor, Manager of the
works, and myself entered a little place opposite 65 Fifth Avenue where the
offices of the company were located. Someone suggested guessing weights and I
was induced to step on a scale. Edison felt me all over and said: "Tesla weighs
152 lbs. to an ounce," and he guest it exactly. Stript I weighed 142 lbs. and
that is still my weight. I whispered to Mr. Johnson: "How is it possible that
Edison could guess my weight so closely?" "Well," he said, lowering his voice.
"I will tell you, confidentially, but you must not say anything. He was
employed for a long time in a Chicago slaughter-house where he weighed thousands
of hogs every day! That's why." My friend, the Hon. Chauncey M. Depew, tells of
an Englishman on whom he sprung one of his original anecdotes and who listened
with a puzzled expression but - a year later - laughed out loud. I will frankly
confess it took me longer than that to appreciate Johnson's joke.
Now, my well being is simply the
result of a careful and measured mode of living and perhaps the most astonishing
thing is that three times in my youth I was rendered by illness a hopeless
physical wreck and given up by physicians. More than this, thru ignorance and
lightheartedness, I got into all sorts of difficulties, dangers and scrapes from
which I extricated myself as by enchantment. I was almost drowned a dozen
times; was nearly boiled alive and just mist being cremated. I was entombed,
lost and frozen. I had hair-breadth escapes from mad dogs, hogs, and other wild
animals. I past thru dreadful diseases and met with all kinds of odd mishaps
and that I am hale and hearty today seems like a miracle. But as I recall these
incidents to my mind I feel convinced that my preservation was not altogether
accidental.
An inventor's endeavor is
essentially lifesaving. Whether he harnesses forces, improves devices, or
provides new comforts and conveniences, he is adding to the safety of our
existence. He is also better qualified than the average individual to protect
himself in peril, for he is observant and resourceful. If I had no other
evidence that I was, in a measure, possest of such qualities I would find it in
these personal experiences. The reader will be able to judge for himself if I
mention one or two instances. On one occasion, when about 14 years old, I
wanted to scare some friends who were bathing with me. My plan was to dive
under a long floating structure and slip out quietly at the other end. Swimming
and diving came to me as naturally as to a duck and I was confident that I could
perform the feat. Accordingly I plunged into the water and, when out of view,
turned around and proceeded rapidly towards the opposite side. Thinking that I
was safely beyond the structure, I rose to the surface but to my dismay struck a
beam. Of course, I quickly dived and forged ahead with rapid strokes until my
breath was beginning to give out. Rising for the second time, my head came
again in contact with a beam. Now I was becoming desperate. However, summoning
all my energy, I made a third frantic attempt but the result was the same. The
torture of supprest breathing was getting unendurable, my brain was reeling and
I felt myself sinking. At that moment, when my situation seemed absolutely
hopeless, I experienced one of those flashes of light and the structure above me
appeared before my vision. I either discerned or guest that there was a little
space between the surface of the water and the boards resting on the beams and,
with consciousness nearly gone, I floated up, prest my mouth close to the planks
and managed to inhale a little air, unfortunately mingled with a spray of water
which nearly choked me. Several times I repeated this procedure as in a dream
until my heart, which was racing at a terrible rate, quieted down and I gained
composure. After that I made a number of unsuccessful dives, having completely
lost the sense of direction, but finally succeeded in getting out of the trap
when my friends had already given me up and were fishing for my body.
That bathing season was spoiled
for me thru recklessness but I soon forgot the lesson and only two years later I
fell into a worse predicament. There was a large flour mill with a dam across
the river near the city where I was studying at that time. As a rule the height
of the water was only two or three inches above the dam and to swim out to it
was a sport not very dangerous in which I often indulged. One day I went alone
to the river to enjoy myself as usual. When I was a short distance from the
masonry, however, I was horrified to observe that the water had risen and was
carrying me along swiftly. I tried to get away but it was too late. Luckily,
tho, I saved myself from being swept over by taking hold of the wall with both
hands. The pressure against my chest was great and I was barely able to keep my
head above the surface. Not a soul was in sight and my voice was lost in the
roar of the fall. Slowly and gradually I became exhausted and unable to
withstand the strain longer. just as I was about to let go, to be dashed
against the rocks below, I saw in a flash of light a familiar diagram
illustrating the hydraulic principle that the pressure of a fluid in motion is
proportionate to the area exposed, and automatically I turned on my left side.
As if by magic the pressure was reduced and I found it comparatively easy in
that position to resist the force of the stream. But the danger still
confronted me. I knew that sooner or later I would be carried down, as it was
not possible for any help to reach me in time, even if I attracted attention. I
am ambidextrous now but then I was lefthanded and had comparatively little
strength in my right arm. For this reason I did not dare to turn on the other
side to rest and nothing remained but to slowly push my body along the dam. I
had to get away from the mill towards which my face was turned as the current
there was much swifter and deeper. It was a long and painful ordeal and I came
near to failing at its very end for I was confronted with a depression in the
masonry. I managed to get over with the last ounce of my force and fell in a
swoon when I reached the bank, where I was found. I had torn virtually all the
skin from my left side and it took several weeks before the fever subsided and I
was well. These are only two of many instances but they may be sufficient to
show that had it not been for the inventor's instinct I would not have lived to
tell this tale.
Interested people have often
asked me how and when I began to invent. This I can only answer from my present
recollection in the light of which the first attempt I recall was rather
ambitious for it involved the invention of an apparatus and a method. In the
former I was anticipated but the latter was original. It happened in this way.
One of my playmates had come into the possession of a hook and fishing-tackle
which created quite an excitement in the village, and the next morning all
started out to catch frogs. I was left alone and deserted owing to a quarrel
with this boy. I had never seen a real hook and pictured it as something
wonderful, endowed with peculiar qualities, and was despairing not to be one of
the party. Urged by necessity, I somehow got hold of a piece of soft iron wire,
hammered the end to a sharp point between two stones, bent it into shape, and
fastened it to a strong string. I then cut a rod, gathered some bait, and went
down to the brook where there were frogs in abundance. But I could not catch
any and was almost discouraged when it occurred to me to dangle the empty hook
in front of a frog sitting on a stump. At first he collapsed but by and by his
eyes bulged out and became bloodshot, he swelled to twice his normal size and
made a vicious snap at the hook.
Immediately I pulled him up. I
tried the same thing again and again and the method proved infallible. When my
comrades, who in spite of their fine outfit had caught nothing, came to me they
were green with envy. For a long time I kept my secret and enjoyed the monopoly
but finally yielded to the spirit of Christmas. Every boy could then do the
same and the following summer brought disaster to the frogs.
In my next attempt I seem to have
acted under the first instinctive impulse which later dominated me - to harness
the energies of nature to the service of man. I did this thru the medium of
May-bugs - or June-bugs as they are called in America - which were a veritable
pest in that country and sometimes broke the branches of trees by the sheer
weight of their bodies. The bushes were black with them. I would attach as
many as four of them to a crosspiece, rotably arranged on a thin spindle, and
transmit the motion of the same to a large disc and so derive considerable
"power." These creatures were remarkably efficient, for once they were started
they had no sense to stop and continued whirling for hours and hours and the
hotter it was the harder they worked. All went well until a strange boy came to
the place. He was the son of a retired officer in the Austrian Army. That
urchin ate May-bugs alive and enjoyed them as tho they were the finest
blue-point oysters. That disgusting sight terminated my endeavors in this
promising field and I have never since been able to touch a May-bug or any other
insect for that matter.
After that, I believe, I
undertook to take apart and assemble the clocks of my grandfather. In the
former operation I was always successful but often failed in the latter. So it
came that he brought my work to a sudden halt in a manner not too delicate and
it took thirty years before I tackled another clockwork again. Shortly there
after I went into the manufacture of a kind of pop-gun which comprised a hollow
tube, a piston, and two plugs of hemp. When firing the gun, the piston was
prest against the stomach and the tube was pushed back quickly with both hands.
The air between the plugs was comprest and raised to high temperature and one of
them was expelled with a loud report. The art consisted in selecting a tube of
the proper taper from the hollow stalks. I did very well with that gun but my
activities interfered with the window panes in our house and met with painful
discouragement. If I remember rightly, I then took to carving swords from
pieces of furniture which I could conveniently obtain. At that time I was under
the sway of the Serbian national poetry and full of admiration for the feats of
the heroes. I used to spend hours in mowing down my enemies in the form of
corn-stalks which ruined the crops and netted me several spankings from my
mother. Moreover these were not of the formal kind but the genuine article.
I had all this and more behind me
before I was six years old and had past thru one year of elementary school in
the village of Smiljan where I was born. At this juncture we moved to the
little city of Gospic nearby. This change of residence was like a calamity to
me. It almost broke my heart to part from our pigeons, chickens and sheep, and
our magnificent flock of geese which used to rise to the clouds in the morning
and return from the feeding grounds at sundown in battle formation, so perfect
that it would have put a squadron of the best aviators of the present day to
shame. In our new house I was but a prisoner, watching the strange people I saw
thru the window blinds. My bashfulness was such that I would rather have faced
a roaring lion than one of the city dudes who strolled about. But my hardest
trial came on Sunday when I had to dress up and attend the service. There I
meet with an accident, the mere thought of which made my blood curdle like sour
milk for years afterwards. It was my second adventure in a church. Not long
before I was entombed for a night in an old chapel on an inaccessible mountain
which was visited only once a year. It was an awful experience, but this one
was worse. There was a wealthy lady in town, a good but pompous woman, who used
to come to the church gorgeously painted up and attired with an enormous train
and attendants. One Sunday I had just finished ringing the bell in the belfry
and rushed downstairs when this grand dame was sweeping out and I jumped on her
train. It tore off with a ripping noise which sounded like a salvo of musketry
fired by raw recruits. My father was livid with rage. He gave me a gentle slap
on the cheek, the only corporal punishment he ever administered to me but I
almost feel it now. The embarrassment and confusion that followed are
indescribable. I was practically ostracised until something else happened which
redeemed me in the estimation of the community.
An enterprising young merchant
had organized a fire department. A new fire engine was purchased, uniforms
provided and the men drilled for service and parade. The engine was, in
reality, a pump to be worked by sixteen men and was beautifully painted red and
black. One afternoon the official trial was prepared for and the machine was
transported to the river. The entire population turned out to witness the great
spectacle. When all the speeches and ceremonies were concluded, the command was
given to pump, but not a drop of water came from the nozzle. The professors and
experts tried in vain to locate the trouble. The fizzle was complete when I
arrived at the scene. My knowledge of the mechanism was nil and I knew next to
nothing of air pressure, but instinctively I felt for the suction hose in the
water and found that it had collapsed. When I waded in the river and opened it
up the water rushed forth and not a few Sunday clothes were spoiled. Archimedes
running naked thru the streets of Syracuse and shouting Eureka at the top of his
voice did not make a greater impression than myself. I was carried on the
shoulders and was the hero of the day.
Upon settling in the city I began
a four-years' course in the so-called Normal School preparatory to my studies at
the College or Real Gymnasium. During this period my boyish efforts and
exploits, as well as troubles, continued. Among other things I attained the
unique distinction of champion crow catcher in the country. My method of
procedure was extremely simple. I would go in the forest, hide in the bushes,
and imitate the call of the bird. Usually I would get several answers and in a
short while a crow would flutter down into the shrubbery near me. After that
all I needed to do was to throw a piece of cardboard to distract its attention,
jump up and grab it before it could extricate itself from the undergrowth. In
this way I would capture as many as I desired. But on one occasion something
occurred which made me respect them. I had caught a fine pair of birds and was
returning home with a friend. When we left the forest, thousands of crows had
gathered making a frightful racket. In a few minutes they rose in pursuit and
soon enveloped us. The fun lasted until all of a sudden I received a blow on
the back of my head which knocked me down. Then they attacked me viciously. I
was compelled to release the two birds and was glad to join my friend who had
taken refuge in a cave.
In the schoolroom there were a
few mechanical models which interested me and turned my attention to water
turbines. I constructed many of these and found great pleasure in operating
them. How extraordinary was my life an incident may illustrate. My uncle had
no use for this kind of pastime and more than once rebuked me. I was fascinated
by a description of Niagara Falls I had perused, and pictured in my imagination
a big wheel run by the Falls. I told my uncle that I would go to America and
carry out this scheme. Thirty years later I saw my ideas carried out at Niagara
and marveled at the unfathomable mystery of the mind.
I made all kinds of other
contrivances and contraptions but among these the arbalists I produced were the
best. My arrows, when shot, disappeared from sight and at close range traversed
a plank of pine one inch thick. Thru the continuous tightening of the bows I
developed skin on my stomach very much like that of a crocodile and I am often
wondering whether it is due to this exercise that I am able even now to digest
cobble-stones! Nor can I pass in silence my performances with the sling which
would have enabled me to give a stunning exhibit at the Hippodrome. And now I
will tell of one of my feats with this antique implement of war which will
strain to the utmost the credulity of the reader. I was practicing while
walking with my uncle along the river. The sun was setting, the trout were
playful and from time to time one would shoot up into the air, its glistening
body sharply defined against a projecting rock beyond. Of course any boy might
have hit a fish under these propitious conditions but I undertook a much more
difficult task and I foretold to my uncle, to the minutest detail, what I
intended doing. I was to hurl a stone to meet the fish, press its body against
the rock, and cut it in two. It was no sooner said than done. My uncle looked
at me almost scared out of his wits and exclaimed "Vade retro Satanas!" and it
was a few days before he spoke to me again. Other records, how ever great, will
be eclipsed but I feel that I could peacefully rest on my laurels for a thousand
years.
The Discovery of the Rotating
Magnetic Field
At the age of ten I entered the
Real Gymnasium which was a new and fairly well equipt institution. In the
department of physics were various models of classical scientific apparatus,
electrical and mechanical. The demonstrations and experiments performed from
time to time by the instructors fascinated me and were undoubtedly a powerful
incentive to invention. I was also passionately fond of mathematical studies
and often won the professor's praise for rapid calculation. This was due to my
acquired facility of visualizing the figures and performing the operations, not
in the usual intuitive manner, but as in actual life. Up to a certain degree of
complexity it was absolutely the same to me whether I wrote the symbols on the
board or conjured them before my mental vision. But freehand drawing, to which
many hours of the course were devoted, was an annoyance I could not endure.
This was rather remarkable as most of the members of the family excelled in it.
Perhaps my aversion was simply due to the predilection I found in undisturbed
thought. Had it not been for a few exceptionally stupid boys, who could not do
anything at all, my record would have been the worst. It was a serious handicap
as under the then existing educational regime, drawing being obligatory, this
deficiency threatened to spoil my whole career and my father had considerable
trouble in railroading me from one class to another.
In the second year at that
institution I became obsessed with the idea of producing continuous motion thru
steady air pressure. The pump incident, of which I have told, had set afire my
youthful imagination and imprest me with the boundless abilities of a vacuum. I
grew frantic in my desire to harness this inexhaustible energy but for a long
time I was groping in the dark. Finally, however, my endeavors crystallized in
an invention which was to enable me to achieve what no other mortal ever
attempted.
Imagine a cylinder freely
rotatable on two bearings and partly surrounded by a rectangular trough which
fits it perfectly. The open side of the trough is closed by a partition so that
the cylindrical segment within the enclosure divides the latter into two
compartments entirely separated from each other by air-tight sliding joints.
One of these compartments being sealed and once for all exhausted, the other
remaining open, a perpetual rotation of the cylinder would result, at least, I
thought so. A wooden model was constructed and fitted with infinite care and
when I applied the pump on one side and actually observed that there was a
tendency to turning, I was delirious with joy. Mechanical flight was the one
thing I wanted to accomplish altho still under the discouraging recollection of
a bad fall I sustained by jumping with an umbrella from the top of a building.
Every day I used to transport myself thru the air to distant regions but could
not understand just how I managed to do it. Now I had something concrete—a
flying machine with nothing more than a rotating shaft, flapping wings, and—a
vacuum of unlimited power! From that time on I made my daily aerial excursions
in a vehicle of comfort and luxury as might have befitted King Solomon. It took
years before I understood that the atmospheric pressure acted at right angles to
the surface of the cylinder and that the slight rotary effort I observed was due
to a leak. Tho this knowledge came gradually it gave me a painful shock.
I had hardly completed my course
at the Real Gymnasium when I was prostrated with a dangerous illness or rather,
a score of them, and my condition became so desperate that I was given up by
physicians. During this period I was permitted to read constantly, obtaining
books from the Public Library which had been neglected and entrusted to me for
classification of the works and preparation of the catalogues. One day I was
handed a few volumes of new literature unlike anything I had ever read before
and so captivating as to make me utterly forget my hopeless state. They were
the earlier works of Mark Twain and to them might have been due the miraculous
recovery which followed. Twenty-five years later, when I met Mr. Clemens and we
formed a friendship between us, I told him of the experience and was amazed to
see that great man of laughter burst into tears.
My studies were continued at the
higher Real Gymnasium in Carlstadt, Croatia, where one of my aunts resided. She
was a distinguished lady, the wife of a Colonel who was an old war-horse having
participated in many battles. I never can forget the three years I past at
their home. No fortress in time of war was under a more rigid discipline. I
was fed like a canary bird. All the meals were of the highest quality and
deliciously prepared but short in quantity by a thousand percent. The slices of
ham cut by my aunt were like tissue paper. When the Colonel would put something
substantial on my plate she would snatch it away and say excitedly to him: "Be
careful, Niko is very delicate." I had a voracious appetite and suffered like
Tantalus. But I lived in an atmosphere of refinement and artistic taste quite
unusual for those times and conditions. The land was low and marshy and malaria
fever never left me while there despite of the enormous amounts of quinin I
consumed. Occasionally the river would rise and drive an army of rats into the
buildings, devouring everything even to the bundles of the fierce paprika.
These pests were to me a welcome diversion. I thinned their ranks by all sorts
of means, which won me the unenviable distinction of rat-catcher in the
community. At last, however, my course was completed, the misery ended, and I
obtained the certificate of maturity which brought me to the cross-roads.
During all those years my parents
never wavered in their resolve to make me embrace the clergy, the mere thought
of which filled me with dread. I had become intensely interested in electricity
under the stimulating influence of my Professor of Physics, who was an ingenious
man and often demonstrated the principles by apparatus of his own invention.
Among these I recall a device in the shape of a freely rotatable bulb, with
tinfoil coatings, which was made to spin rapidly when connected to a static
machine. It is impossible for me to convey an adequate idea of the intensity of
feeling I experienced in witnessing his exhibitions of these mysterious
phenomena. Every impression produced a thousand echoes in my mind. I wanted to
know more of this wonderful force; I longed for experiment and investigation and
resigned myself to the inevitable with aching heart.
Just as I was making ready for
the long journey home I received word that my father wished me to go on a
shooting expedition. It was a strange request as he had been always strenuously
opposed to this kind of sport. But a few days later I learned that the cholera
was raging in that district and, taking advantage of an opportunity, I returned
to Gospic in disregard of my parents' wishes. It is incredible how absolutely
ignorant people were as to the causes of this scourge which visited the country
in intervals of from fifteen to twenty years. They thought that the deadly
agents were transmitted thru the air and filled it with pungent odors and
smoke. In the meantime they drank the infected water and died in heaps. I
contracted the awful disease on the very day of my arrival and altho surviving
the crisis, I was confined to bed for nine months with scarcely any ability to
move. My energy was completely exhausted and for the second time I found myself
at death's door. In one of the sinking spells which was thought to be the last,
my father rushed into the room. I still see his pallid face as he tried to
cheer me in tones belying his assurance. "Perhaps," I said, "I may get well if
you will let me study engineering." "You will go to the best technical
institution in the world," he solemnly replied, and I knew that he meant it. A
heavy weight was lifted from my mind but the relief would have come too late had
it not been for a marvelous cure brought about thru a bitter decoction of a
peculiar bean. I came to life like another Lazarus to the utter amazement of
everybody.
My father insisted that I spend a
year in healthful physical outdoor exercises to which I reluctantly consented.
For most of this term I roamed in the mountains, loaded with a hunter's outfit
and a bundle of books, and this contact with nature made me stronger in body as
well as in mind. I thought and planned, and conceived many ideas almost as a
rule delusive. The vision was clear enough but the knowledge of principles was
very limited. In one of my inventions I proposed to convey letters and packages
across the seas, thru a submarine tube, in spherical containers of sufficient
strength to resist the hydraulic pressure. The pumping plant, intended to force
the water thru the tube, was accurately figured and designed and all other
particulars carefully worked out. Only one trifling detail, of no consequence,
was lightly dismist. I assumed an arbitrary velocity of the water and, what is
more, took pleasure in making it high, thus arriving at a stupendous performance
supported by faultless calculations. Subsequent reflections, however, on the
resistance of pipes to fluid flow determined me to make this invention public
property.
Another one of my projects was to
construct a ring around the equator which would, of course, float freely and
could be arrested in its spinning motion by reactionary forces, thus enabling
travel at a rate of about one thousand miles an hour, impracticable by rail.
The reader will smile. The plan was difficult of execution, I will admit, but
not nearly so bad as that of a well-known New York professor, who wanted to pump
the air from the torrid to the temperate zones, entirely forgetful of the fact
that the Lord had provided a gigantic machine for this very purpose.
Still another scheme, far more
important and attractive, was to derive power from the rotational energy of
terrestrial bodies. I had discovered that objects on the earth's surface, owing
to the diurnal rotation of the globe, are carried by the same alternately in and
against the direction of translatory movement. From this results a great change
in momentum which could be utilized in the simplest imaginable manner to furnish
motive effort in any habitable region of the world. I cannot find words to
describe my disappointment when later I realized that I was in the predicament
of Archimedes, who vainly sought for a fixt point in the universe.
At the termination of my vacation
I was sent to the Polytechnic School in Gratz, Styria, which my father had
chosen as one of the oldest and best reputed institutions. That was the moment
I had eagerly awaited and I began my studies under good auspices and firmly
resolved to succeed. My previous training was above the average, due to my
father's teaching and opportunities afforded. I had acquired the knowledge of a
number of languages and waded thru the books of several libraries, picking up
information more or less useful. Then again, for the first time, I could choose
my subjects as I liked, and free-hand drawing was to bother me no more.
I had made up my mind to give my
parents a surprise, and during the whole first year I regularly started my work
at three o'clock in the morning and continued until eleven at night, no Sundays
or holidays excepted. As most of my fellow-students took thinks easily,
naturally enough I eclipsed all records. In the course of that year I past thru
nine exams and the professors thought I deserved more than the highest
qualifications. Armed with their flattering certificates, I went home for a
short rest, expecting a triumph, and was mortified when my father made light of
these hard won honors. That almost killed my ambition; but later, after he had
died, I was pained to find a package of letters which the professors had written
him to the effect that unless he took me away from the Institution I would be
killed thru overwork.
Thereafter I devoted myself
chiefly to physics, mechanics and mathematical studies, spending the hours of
leisure in the libraries. I had a veritable rnania for finishing whatever I
began, which often got me into difficulties. On one occasion I started to read
the works of Voltaire when I learned, to my dismay, that there were close on one
hundred large volumes in small print which that monster had written while
drinking seventy-two cups of black coffee per diem. It had to be done, but when
I laid aside the last book I was very glad, and said, "Never more!"
My first year's showing had won
me the appreciation and friendship of several professors. Among these were
Prof. Rogner, who was teaching arithmetical subjects and geometry; Prof.
Poeschl, who held the chair of theoretical and experimental physics, and Dr.
Alle, who taught integral calculus and specialized in differential equations.
This scientist was the most brilliant lecturer to whom I ever listened. He took
a special interest in my progress and would frequently remain for an hour or two
in the lecture room, giving me problems to solve, in which I delighted. To him
I explained a flying machine I had conceived, not an illusionary invention, but
one based on sound, scientific principles, which has become realizable thru my
turbine and will soon be given to the world. Both Professors Rogner and Poeschl
were curious men. The former had peculiar ways of expressing himself and
whenever he did so there was a riot, followed by a long and embarrassing pause.
Prof. Poeschl was a methodical and thoroly grounded German. He had enormous
feet and hands like the paws of a bear, but all of his experiments were
skillfully performed with lock-like precision and without a miss.
It was in the second year of my
studies that we received a Gramme dynamo from Paris, having the horseshoe form
of a laminated field magnet, and a wire-wound armature with a commutator. It
was connected up and various effects of the currents were shown. While Prof.
Poeschl was making demonstrations, running the machine as a motor, the brushes
gave trouble, sparking badly, and I observed that it might be possible to
operate a motor without these appliances. But he declared that it could not be
done and did me the honor of delivering a lecture on the subject, at the
conclusion of which he remarked: "Mr. Tesla may accomplish great things, but he
certainly never will do this. It would be equivalent to converting a steadily
pulling force, like that of gravity, into a rotary effort. It is a perpetual
motion scheme, an impossible idea." But instinct is something which transcends
knowledge. We have, undoubtedly, certain finer fibers that enable us to
perceive truths when logical deduction, or any other willful effort of the
brain, is futile. For a time I wavered, imprest by the professor's authority,
but soon became convinced I was right and undertook the task with all the fire
and boundless confidence of youth.
I started by first picturing in
my mind a direct-current machine, running it and following the changing flow of
the currents in the armature. Then I would imagine an alternator and
investigate the processes taking place in a similar manner. Next I would
visualize systems comprising motors and generators and operate them in various
ways. The images I saw were to me perfectly real and tangible. All my
remaining term in Gratz was passed in intense but fruitless efforts of this
kind, and I almost came to the conclusion that the problem was insolvable.
In 1880 I went to Prague,
Bohemia, carrying out my father's wish to complete my education at the
University there. It was in that city that I made a decided advance, which
consisted in detaching the commutator from the machine and studying the
phenomena in this new aspect, but still without result. In the year following
there was a sudden change in my views of life. I realized that my parents had
been making too great sacrifices on my account and resolved to relieve them of
the burden. The wave of the American telephone had just reached the European
continent and the system was to be installed in Budapest, Hungary. It appeared
an ideal opportunity, all the more as a friend of our family was at the head of
the enterprise. It was here that I suffered the complete breakdown of the
nerves to which I have referred.
What I experienced during the
period of that illness surpasses all belief. My sight and hearing were always
extraordinary. I could clearly discern objects in the distance when others saw
no trace of them. Several times in my boyhood I saved the houses of our
neighbors from fire by hearing the faint crackling sounds which did not disturb
their sleep, and calling for help.
In 1899, when I was past forty
and carrying on my experiments in Colorado, I could hear very distinctly
thunderclaps at a distance of 550 miles. The limit of audition for my young
assistants was scarcely more than 150 miles. My ear was thus over thirteen
times more sensitive. Yet at that time I was, so to speak, stone deaf in
comparison with the acuteness of my hearing while under the nervous strain. In
Budapest I could hear the ticking of a watch with three rooms between me and the
time-piece. A fly alighting on a table in the room would cause a dull thud in
my ear. A carriage passing at a distance of a few miles fairly shook my whole
body. The whistle of a locomotive twenty or thirty miles away made the bench or
chair on which I sat vibrate so strongly that the pain was unbearable. The
ground under my feet trembled continuously. I had to support my bed on rubber
cushions to get any rest at all. The roaring noises from near and far often
produced the effect of spoken words which would have frightened me had I not
been able to resolve them into their accidental components. The sun's rays,
when periodically intercepted, would cause blows of such force on my brain that
they would stun me. I had to summon all my will power to pass under a bridge or
other structure as I experienced a crushing pressure on the skull. In the dark
I had the sense of a bat and could detect the presence of an object at a
distance of twelve feet by a peculiar creepy sensation on the forehead. My
pulse varied from a few to two hundred and sixty beats and all the tissues of
the body quivered with twitchings and tremors which was perhaps the hardest to
bear. A renowned physician who gave me daily large doses of Bromide of
Potassium pronounced my malady unique and incurable.
It is my eternal regret that I
was not under the observation of experts in physiology and psychology at that
time. I clung desperately to life, but never expected to recover. Can anyone
believe that so hopeless a physical wreck could ever be transformed into a man
of astonishing strength and tenacity, able to work thirty-eight years almost
without a day's interruption, and find himself still strong and fresh in body
and mind? Such is my case. A powerful desire to live and to continue the work,
and the assistance of a devoted friend and athlete accomplished the wonder. My
health returned and with it the vigor of mind. In attacking the problem again I
almost regretted that the struggle was soon to end. I had so much energy to
spare. When I undertook the task it was not with a resolve such as men often
make. With me it was a sacred vow, a question of life and death. I knew that I
would perish if I failed. Now I felt that the battle was won. Back in the deep
recesses of the brain was the solution, but I could not yet give it outward
expression. One afternoon, which is ever present in my recollection, I was
enjoying a walk with my friend in the City Park and reciting poetry. At that
age I knew entire books by heart, word for word. One of these was Goethe's
"Faust." The sun was just setting and reminded me of the glorious passage:
"Sie ruckt und weicht, der Tag
ist uberlebt,
Dort eilt sie hin und fordert neues Leben.
Oh, dass kein Flugel mich vom Boden hebt
Ihr nach und immer nach zu streben!
Ein schoner Traum indessen sie
entweicht,
Ach, zu des Geistes Flugeln wird so leicht
Kein korperlicher Flugel sich gesellen!"
[The glow retreats, done is the
day of toil;
It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring;
Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil
Upon its track to follow, follow soaring!
A glorious dream! though now the
glories fade.
Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid
Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me.]
As I uttered these inspiring
words the idea came like a flash of lightning and in an instant the truth was
revealed. I drew with a stick on the sand the diagrams shown six years later in
my address before the American Institute of Electrical Engineers, and my
companion understood them perfectly. The images I saw were wonderfully sharp
and clear and had the solidity of metal and stone, so much so that I told him:
"See my motor here; watch me reverse it." I cannot begin to describe my
emotions. Pygmalion seeing his statue come to life could not have been more
deeply moved. A thousand secrets of nature which I might have stumbled upon
accidentally I would have given for that one which I had wrested from her
against all odds and at the peril of my existence.
For a while I gave myself up
entirely to the intense enjoyment of picturing machines and devising new forms.
It was a mental state of happiness about as complete as I have ever known in
life. Ideas came in an uninterrupted stream and the only difficulty I had was
to hold them fast. The pieces of apparatus I conceived were to me absolutely
real and tangible in every detail, even to the minute marks and signs of wear.
I delighted in imagining the motors constantly running, for in this way they
presented to mind's eye a more fascinating sight. When natural inclination
develops into a passionate desire, one advances towards his goal in seven-league
boots. In less than two months I evolved virtually all the types of motors and
modifications of the system which are now identified with my name. It was,
perhaps, providential that the necessities of existence commanded a temporary
halt to this consuming activity of the mind. I came to Budapest prompted by a
premature report concerning the telephone enterprise and, as irony of fate
willed it, I had to accept a position as draftsman in the Central Telegraph
Office of the Hungarian Government at a salary which I deem it my privilege not
to disclose! Fortunately, I soon won the interest of the Inspector-in-Chief and
was thereafter employed on calculations, designs and estimates in connection
with new installations, until the Telephone Exchange was started, when I took
charge of the same. The knowledge and practical experience I gained in the
course of this work was most valuable and the employment gave me ample
opportunities for the exercise of my inventive faculties. I made several
improvements in the Central Station apparatus and perfected a telephone repeater
or amplifier which was never patented or publicly described but would be
creditable to me even today. In recognition of my efficient assistance the
organizer of the undertaking, Mr. Puskas, upon disposing of his business in
Budapest, offered me a position in Paris which I gladly accepted.
I never can forget the deep
impression that magic city produced on my mind. For several days after my
arrival I roamed thru the streets in utter bewilderment of the new spectacle.
The attractions were many and irresistible, but, alas, the income was spent as
soon as received. When Mr. Puskas asked me how I was getting along in the new
sphere, I described the situation accurately in the statement that "the last
twenty-nine days of the month are the toughest!" I led a rather strenuous life
in what would now be termed "Rooseveltian fashion." Every morning, regardless of
weather, I would go from the Boulevard St. Marcel, where I resided, to a
bathing house on the Seine, plunge into the water, loop the circuit twenty-seven
times and then walk an hour to reach Ivry, where the Company's factory was
located. There I would have a woodchopper's breakfast at half-past seven
o'clock and then eagerly await the lunch hour, in the meanwhile cracking hard
nuts for the Manager of the Works, Mr. Charles Batchellor, who was an intimate
friend and assistant of Edison. Here I was thrown in contact with a few
Americans who fairly fell in love with me because of my proficiency in
billiards. To these men I explained my invention and one of them, Mr. D.
Cunningham, Foreman of the Mechanical Department, offered to form a stock
company. The proposal seemed to me comical in the extreme. I did not have the
faintest conception of what that meant except that it was an American way of
doing things. Nothing came of it, however, and during the next few months I had
to travel from one to another place in France and Germany to cure the ills of
the power plants. On my return to Paris I submitted to one of the
administrators of the Company, Mr. Rau, a plan for improving their dynamos and
was given an opportunity. My success was complete and the delighted directors
accorded me the privilege of developing automatic regulators which were much
desired. Shortly after there was some trouble with the lighting plant which had
been installed at the new railroad station in Strassburg, Alsace. The wiring
was defective and on the occasion of the opening ceremonies a large part of a
wall was blown out thru a short-circuit right in the presence of old Emperor
William I. The German Government refused to take the plant and the French
Company was facing a serious loss. On account of my knowledge of the German
language and past experience, I was entrusted with the difficult task of
straightening out matters and early in 1883 I went to Strassburg on that
mission.
Some of the incidents in that
city have left an indelible record on my memory. By a curious coincidence, a
number of men who subsequently achieved fame, lived there about that time. In
later life I used to say, "There were bacteria of greatness in that old town.
Others caught the disease but I escaped!" The practical work, correspondence,
and conferences with officials kept me preoccupied day and night, but, as soon
as I was able to manage I undertook the construction of a simple motor in a
mechanical shop opposite the railroad station, having brought with me from Paris
some material for that purpose. The consummation of the experiment was,
however, delayed until the summer of that year when I finally had the
satisfaction of seeing rotation effected by alternating currents of different
phase, and without sliding contacts or commutator, as I had conceived a year
before. It was an exquisite pleasure but not to compare with the delirium of
joy following the first revelation.
Among my new friends was the
former Mayor of the city, Mr. Bauzin, whom I had already in a measure acquainted
with this and other inventions of mine and whose support I endeavored to
enlist. He was sincerely devoted to me and put my project before several
wealthy persons but, to my mortification, found no response. He wanted to help
me in every possible way and the approach of the first of July, 1919, happens to
remind me of a form of "assistance" I received from that charming man, which was
not financial but none the less appreciated. In 1870, when the Germans invaded
the country, Mr. Bauzin had buried a good sized allotment of St. Estephe of 1801
and he came to the conclusion that he knew no worthier person than myself to
consume that precious beverage. This, I may say, is one of the unforgettable
incidents to which I have referred. My friend urged me to return to Paris as
soon as possible and seek support there. This I was anxious to do but my work
and negotiations were protracted owing to all sorts of petty obstacles I
encountered so that at times the situation seemed hopeless.
Just to give an idea of German
thoroness and "efficiency," I may mention here a rather funny experience. An
incandescent lamp of 16 c.p. was to be placed in a hallway and upon selecting
the proper location I ordered the monteur to run the wires. After working for a
while he concluded that the engineer had to be consulted and this was done. The
latter made several objections but ultimately agreed that the lamp should be
placed two inches from the spot I had assigned, whereupon the work proceeded.
Then the engineer became worried and told me that Inspector Averdeck should be
notified. That important person called, investigated, debated, and decided that
the lamp should be shifted back two inches, which was the place I had marked.
It was not long, however, before Averdeck got cold feet himself and advised me
that he had informed Ober-Inspector Hieronimus of the matter and that I should
await his decision. It was several days before the Ober-Inspector was able to
free himself of other pressing duties but at last he arrived and a two-hour
debate followed, when he decided to move the lamp two inches farther. My hopes
that this was the final act were shattered when the Ober-Inspector returned and
said to me: "Regierungsrath Funke is so particular that I would not dare to give
an order for placing this lamp without his explicit approval." Accordingly
arrangements for a visit from that great man were made. We started cleaning up
and polishing early in the morning. Everybody brushed up, I put on my gloves
and when Funke came with his retinue he was ceremoniously received. After two
hours' deliberation he suddenly exclaimed: "I must be going," and pointing to a
place on the ceiling, he ordered me to put the lamp there. It was the exact
spot which I had originally chosen,
So it went day after day with
variations, but I was determined to achieve at whatever cost and in the end my
efforts were rewarded. By the spring of 1884 all the differences were adjusted,
the plant formally accepted, and I returned to Paris with pleasing
anticipations. One of the administrators had promised me a liberal compensation
in case I succeeded, as well as a fair consideration of the improvements I had
made in their dynamos and I hoped to realize a substantial sum. There were
three administrators whom I shall designate as A, B and C for convenience. When
I called on A he told me that B had the say. This gentleman thought that only C
could decide and the latter was quite sure that A alone had the power to act.
After several laps of this circulus vivios it dawned upon me that my reward was
a castle in Spain. The utter failure of my attempts to raise capital for
development was another disappointment and when Mr. Batchellor prest me to go to
America with a view of redesigning the Edison machines, I determined to try my
fortunes in the Land of Golden Promise. But the chance was nearly mist. I
liquefied my modest assets, secured accommodations and found myself at the
railroad station as the train was pulling out. At that moment I discovered that
my money and tickets were gone. What to do was the question. Hercules had
plenty of time to deliberate but I had to decide while running alongside the
train with opposite feelings surging in my brain like condenser oscillations.
Resolve, helped by dexterity, won out in the nick of time and upon passing thru
the usual experiences, as trivial as unpleasant, I managed to embark for New
York with the remnants of my belongings, some poems and articles I had written,
and a package of calculations relating to solutions of an unsolvable integral
and to my flying machine. During the voyage I sat most of the time at the stern
of the ship watching for an opportunity to save somebody from a watery grave,
without the slightest thought of danger. Later when I had absorbed some of the
practical American sense I shivered at the recollection and marvelled at my
former folly.
I wish that I could put in words
my first impressions of this country. In the Arabian Tales I read how genii
transported people into a land of dreams to live thru delightful adventures. My
case was just the reverse. The genii had carried me from a world of dreams into
one of realities. What I had left was beautiful, artistic and fascinating in
every way; what I saw here was machined, rough and unattractive. A burly
policeman was twirling his stick which looked to me as big as a log. I
approached him politely with the request to direct me. "Six blocks down, then
to the left," he said, with murder in his eyes. "Is this America?" I asked
myself in painful surprise. "It is a century behind Europe in civilization."
When I went abroad in 1889 - five years having elapsed since my arrival here - I
became convinced that it was more than one hundred years AHEAD of Europe and
nothing has happened to this day to change my opinion.
The meeting with Edison was a
memorable event in my life. I was amazed at this wonderful man who, without
early advantages and scientific training, had accomplished so much. I had
studied a dozen languages, delved in literature and art, and had spent my best
years in libraries reading all sorts of stuff that fell into my hands, from
Newton's "Principia" to the novels of Paul de Kock, and felt that most of my
life had been squandered. But it did not take long before I recognized that it
was the best thing I could have done. Within a few weeks I had won Edison's
confidence and it came about in this way.
The S.S. Oregon, the fastest
passenger steamer at that time, had both of its lighting machines disabled and
its sailing was delayed. As the superstructure had been built after their
installation it was impossible to remove them from the hold. The predicament
was a serious one and Edison was much annoyed. In the evening I took the
necessary instruments with me and went aboard the vessel where I stayed for the
night. The dynamos were in bad condition, having several short-circuits and
breaks, but with the assistance of the crew I succeeded in putting them in good
shape. At five o'clock in the morning, when passing along Fifth Avenue on my
way to the shop, I met Edison with Batchellor and a few others as they were
returning home to retire. "Here is our Parisian running around at night," he
said. When I told him that I was coming from the Oregon and had repaired both
machines, he looked at me in silence and walked away without another word. But
when he had gone some distance I heard him remark: "Batchellor, this is a d-n
good man," and from that time on I had full freedom in directing the work. For
nearly a year my regular hours were from 10.30 A.M. until 5 o'clock the next
morning without a day's exception. Edison said to me: "I have had many
hard-working assistants but you take the cake." During this period I designed
twenty-four different types of standard machines with short cores and of uniform
pattern which replaced the old ones. The Manager had promised me fifty thousand
dollars on the completion of this task but it turned out to be a practical
joke. This gave me a painful shock and I resigned my position.
Immediately thereafter some
people approached me with the proposal of forming an arc light company under my
name, to which I agreed. Here finally was an opportunity to develop the motor,
but when I broached the subject to my new associates they said: "No, we want the
arc lamp. We don't care for this alternating current of yours." In 1886 my
system of arc lighting was perfected and adopted for factory and municipal
lighting, and I was free, but with no other possession than a beautifully
engraved certificate of stock of hypothetical value. Then followed a period of
struggle in the new medium for which I was not fitted, but the reward came in
the end and in April, 1887, the Tesla Electric Company was organized, providing
a laboratory and facilities. The motors I built there were exactly as I had
imagined them. I made no attempt to improve the design, but merely reproduced
the pictures as they appeared to my vision and the operation was always as I
expected.
In the early part of 1888 an
arrangement was made with the Westinghouse Company for the manufacture of the
motors on a large scale. But great difficulties had still to be overcome. My
system was based on the use of low frequency currents and the Westinghouse
experts had adopted 133 cycles with the object of securing advantages in the
transformation. They did not want to depart from their standard forms of
apparatus and my efforts had to be concentrated upon adapting the motor to these
conditions. Another necessity was to produce a motor capable of running
efficiently at this frequency on two wires which was not easy of
accomplishment.
At the close of 1889, however, my
services in Pittsburg being no longer essential, I returned to New York and
resumed experimental work in a laboratory on Grand Street, where I began
immediately the design of high frequency machines. The problems of construction
in this unexplored field were novel and quite peculiar and I encountered many
difficulties. I rejected the inductor type, fearing that it might not yield
perfect sine waves which were so important to resonant action. Had it not been
for this I could have saved myself a great deal of labor. Another discouraging
feature of the high frequency alternator seemed to be the inconstancy of speed
which threatened to impose serious limitations to its use. I had already noted
in my demonstrations before the American Institution of Electrical Engineers
that several times the tune was lost, necessitating readjustment, and did not
yet foresee, what I discovered long afterwards, a means of operating a machine
of this kind at a speed constant to such a degree as not to vary more than a
small fraction of one revolution between the extremes of load.
From many other considerations it
appeared desirable to invent a simpler device for the production of electric
oscillations. In 1856 Lord Kelvin had exposed the theory of the condenser
discharge, but no practical application of that important knowledge was made. I
saw the possibilities and undertook the development of induction apparatus on
this principle. My progress was so rapid as to enable me to exhibit at my
lecture in 1891 a coil giving sparks of five inches. On that occasion I frankly
told the engineers of a defect involved in the transformation by the new method,
namely, the loss in the spark gap. Subsequent investigation showed that no
matter what medium is employed, be it air, hydrogen, mercury vapor, oil or a
stream of electrons, the efficiency is the same. It is a law very much like
that governing the conversion of mechanical energy. We may drop a weight from a
certain height vertically down or carry it to the lower level along any devious
path, it is immaterial insofar as the amount of work is concerned. Fortunately
however, this drawback is not fatal as by proper proportioning of the resonant
circuits an efficiency of 85 per cent is attainable. Since my early
announcement of the invention it has come into universal use and wrought a
revolution in many departments. But a still greater future awaits it. When in
1900 I obtained powerful discharges of 100 feet and flashed a current around the
globe, I was reminded of the first tiny spark I observed in my Grand Street
laboratory and was thrilled by sensations akin to those I felt when I discovered
the rotating magnetic field.
As I review the events of my past
life I realize how subtle are the influences that shape our destinies. An
incident of my youth may serve to illustrate. One winter's day I managed to
climb a steep mountain, in company with other boys. The snow was quite deep and
a warm southerly wind made it just suitable for our purpose. We amused
ourselves by throwing balls which would roll down a certain distance, gathering
more or less snow, and we tried to outdo one another in this exciting sport.
Suddenly a ball was seen to go beyond the limit, swelling to enormous
proportions until it became as big as a house and plunged thundering into the
valley below with a force that made the ground tremble. I looked on spellbound,
incapable of understanding what had happened. For weeks afterward the picture
of the avalanche was before my eyes and I wondered how anything so small could
grow to such an immense size. Ever since that time the magnification of feeble
actions fascinated me, and when, years later, I took up the experimental study
of mechanical and electrical resonance, I was keenly interested from the very
start. Possibly, had it not been for that early powerful impression, I might
not have followed up the little spark I obtained with my coil and never
developed my best invention, the true history of which I'll tell here for the
first time.
"Lionhunters" have often asked me
which of my discoveries I prize most. This depends on the point of view. Not a
few technical men, very able in their special departments, but dominated by a
pedantic spirit and nearsighted, have asserted that excepting the induction
motor I have given to the world little of practical use. This is a grievous
mistake. A new idea must not be judged by its immediate results. My
alternating system of power transmission came at a psychological moment, as a
long-sought answer to pressing industrial questions, and altho considerable
resistance had to be overcome and opposing interests reconciled, as usual, the
commercial introduction could not be long delayed. Now, compare this situation
with that confronting my turbine, for example. One should think that so simple
and beautiful an invention, possessing many features of an ideal motor, should
be adopted at once and, undoubtedly, it would under similar conditions. But the
prospective effect of the rotating field was not to render worthless existing
machinery; on the contrary, it was to give it additional value. The system lent
itself to new enterprise as well as to improvement of the old. My turbine is an
advance of a character entirely different. It is a radical departure in the
sense that its success would mean the abandonment of the antiquated types of
prime movers on which billions of dollars have been spent. Under such
circumstances the progress must needs be slow and perhaps the greatest
impediment is encountered in the prejudicial opinions created in the minds of
experts by organized opposition.
Only the other day I had a
disheartening experience when I met my friend and former assistant, Charles F.
Scott, now professor of Electrical Engineering at Yale. I had not seen him for
a long time and was glad to have an opportunity for a little chat at my office.
Our conversation naturally enough drifted on my turbine and I became heated to a
high degree. "Scott," I exclaimed, carried away by the vision of a glorious
future, "my turbine will scrap all the heat-engines in the world." Scott stroked
his chin and looked away thoughtfully, as though making a mental calculation.
"That will make quite a pile of scrap," he said, and left without another word!
These and other inventions of
mine, however, were nothing more than steps forward in certain directions. In
evolving them I simply followed the inborn sense to improve the present devices
without any special thought of our far more imperative necessities. The
"Magnifying Transmitter" was the product of labors extending through years,
having for their chief object the solution of problems which are infinitely more
important to mankind than mere industrial development.
If my memory serves me right, it
was in November, 1890, that I performed a laboratory experiment which was one of
the most extraordinary and spectacular ever recorded in the annals of science.
In investigating the behaviour of high frequency currents I had satisfied myself
that an electric field of sufficient intensity could be produced in a room to
light up electrodeless vacuum tubes. Accordingly, a transformer was built to
test the theory and the first trial proved a marvelous success. It is difficult
to appreciate what those strange phenomena meant at that time. We crave for new
sensations but soon become indifferent to them. The wonders of yesterday are
today common occurrences. When my tubes were first publicly exhibited they were
viewed with amazement impossible to describe. From all parts of the world I
received urgent invitations and numerous honors and other flattering inducements
were offered to me, which I declined.
But in 1892 the demands became
irresistible and I went to London where I delivered a lecture before the
Institution of Electrical Engineers. It had been my intention to leave
immediately for Paris in compliance with a similar obligation, but Sir James
Dewar insisted on my appearing before the Royal Institution. I was a man of
firm resolve but succumbed easily to the forceful arguments of the great
Scotsman. He pushed me into a chair and poured out half a glass of a wonderful
brown fluid which sparkled in all sorts of iridescent colors and tasted like
nectar. "Now," said he. "you are sitting in Faraday's chair and you are
enjoying whiskey he used to drink." In both aspects it was an enviable
experience. The next evening I gave a demonstration before that Institution, at
the termination of which Lord Rayleigh addressed the audience and his generous
words gave me the first start in these endeavors. I fled from London and later
from Paris to escape favors showered upon me, and journeyed to my home where I
passed through a most painful ordeal and illness. Upon regaining my health I
began to formulate plans for the resumption of work in America. Up to that time
I never realized that I possessed any particular gift of discovery but Lord
Rayleigh, whom I always considered as an ideal man of science, had said so and
if that was the case I felt that I should concentrate on some big idea.
One day, as I was roaming in the
mountains, I sought shelter from an approaching storm. The sky became overhung
with heavy clouds but somehow the rain was delayed until, all of a sudden, there
was a lightning flash and a few moments after a deluge. This observation set me
thinking. It was manifest that the two phenomena were closely related, as cause
and effect, and a little reflection led me to the conclusion that the electrical
energy involved in the precipitation of the water was inconsiderable, the
function of lightning being much like that of a sensitive trigger.
Here was a stupendous possibility
of achievement. If we could produce electric effects of the required quality,
this whole planet and the conditions of existence on it could be transformed.
The sun raises the water of the oceans and winds drive it to distant regions
where it remains in a state of most delicate balance. If it were in our power
to upset it when and wherever desired, this mighty life-sustaining stream could
be at will controlled. We could irrigate arid deserts, create lakes and rivers
and provide motive power in unlimited amounts. This would be the most efficient
way of harnessing the sun to the uses of man. The consummation depended on our
ability to develop electric forces of the order of those in nature. It seemed a
hopeless undertaking, but I made up my mind to try it and immediately on my
return to the United States, in the Summer of 1892, work was begun which was to
me all the more attractive, because a means of the same kind was necessary for
the successful transmission of energy without wires.
The first gratifying result was
obtained in the spring of the succeeding year when I reached tensions of about
1,000,000 volts with my conical coil. That was not much in the light of the
present art, but it was then considered a feat. Steady progress was made until
the destruction of my laboratory by fire in 1895, as may be judged from an
article by T. C. Martin which appeared in the April number of the Century
Magazine. This calamity set me back in many ways and most of that year had to
be devoted to planning and reconstruction. However, as soon as circumstances
permitted, I returned to the task.
Although I knew that higher
electro-motive forces were attainable with apparatus of larger dimensions, I had
an instinctive perception that the object could be accomplished by the proper
design of a comparatively small and compact transformer. In carrying on tests
with a secondary in the form of a flat spiral, as illustrated in my patents, the
absence of streamers surprised me, and it was not long before I discovered that
this was due to the position of the turns and their mutual action. Profiting
from this observation I resorted to the use of a high tension conductor with
turns of considerable diameter sufficiently separated to keep down the
distributed capacity, while at the same time preventing undue accumulation of
the charge at any point. The application of this principle enabled me to
produce pressures of 4,000,000 volts, which was about the limit obtainable in my
new laboratory at Houston Street, as the discharges extended through a distance
of 16 feet. A photograph of this transmitter was published in the Electrical
Review of November, 1898.
In order to advance further along
this line I had to go into the open, and in the spring of 1899, having completed
preparations for the erection of a wireless plant, I went to Colorado where I
remained for more than one year. Here I introduced other improvements and
refinements which made it possible to generate currents of any tension that may
be desired. Those who are interested will find some information in regard to
the experiments I conducted there in my article, "The Problem of Increasing
Human Energy" in the Century Magazine of June, 1900, to which I have referred on
a previous occasion.
I have been asked by the
ELECTRICAL EXPERIMENTER to be quite explicit on this subject so that my young
friends among the readers of the magazine will clearly understand the
construction and operation of my "Magnifying Transmitter" and the purposes for
which it is intended. Well, then, in the first place, it is a resonant
transformer with a secondary in which the parts, charged to a high
potential, are of considerable area and arranged in space along ideal enveloping
surfaces of very large radii of curvature, and at proper distances from one
another thereby insuring a small electric surface density everywhere so
that no leak can occur even if the conductor is bare. It is suitable for
any frequency, from a few to many thousands of cycles per second, and can be
used in the production of currents of tremendous volume and moderate pressure,
or of smaller amperage and immense electromotive force. The maximum electric
tension is merely dependent on the curvature of the surfaces on which the
charged elements are situated and the area of the latter.
Judging from my past experience,
as much as 100,000,000 volts are perfectly practicable. On the other hand
currents of many thousands of amperes may be obtained in the antenna. A plant
of but very moderate dimensions is required for such performances.
Theoretically, a terminal of less than 90 feet in diameter is sufficient to
develop an electromotive force of that magnitude while for antenna currents of
from 2,000-4,000 amperes at the usual frequencies it need not be larger than 30
feet in diameter.
In a more restricted meaning this
wireless transmitter is one in which the Hertz-wave radiation is an entirely
negligible quantity as compared with the whole energy, under which condition the
damping factor is extremely small and an enormous charge is stored in the
elevated capacity. Such a circuit may then be excited with impulses of any
kind, even of low frequency and it will yield sinusoidal and continuous
oscillations like those of an alternator.
Taken in the narrowest
significance of the term, however, it is a resonant transformer which, besides
possessing these qualities, is accurately proportioned to fit the globe and its
electrical constants and properties, by virtue of which design it becomes highly
efficient and effective in the wireless transmission of energy. Distance is
then absolutely eliminated, there being no diminution in the intensity of the
transmitted impulses. It is even possible to make the actions increase
with the distance from the plant according to an exact mathematical law.
This invention was one of a
number comprised in my "World-System" of wireless transmission which I undertook
to commercialize on my return to New York in 1900. As to the immediate purposes
of my enterprise, they were clearly outlined in a technical statement of that
period from which I quote:
"The 'World-System' has
resulted from a combination of several original discoveries made by the
inventor in the course of long continued research and experimentation. It
makes possible not only the instantaneous and precise wireless transmission
of any kind of signals, messages or characters, to all parts of the world,
but also the inter-connection of the existing telegraph, telephone, and
other signal stations without any change in their present equipment. By its
means, for instance, a telephone subscriber here may call up and talk to any
other subscriber on the Globe. An inexpensive receiver, not bigger than a
watch, will enable him to listen anywhere, on land or sea, to a speech
delivered or music played in some other place, however distant. These
examples are cited merely to give an idea of the possibilities of this great
scientific advance, which annihilates distance and makes that perfect
natural conductor, the Earth, available for all the innumerable purposes
which human ingenuity has found for a line-wire. One far-reaching result of
this is that any device capable of being operated thru one or more wires (at
a distance obviously restricted) can likewise be actuated, without
artificial conductors and with the same facility and accuracy, at distances
to which there are no limits other than those imposed by the physical
dimensions of the Globe. Thus, not only will entirely new fields for
commercial exploitation be opened up by this ideal method of transmission
but the old ones vastly extended.
The 'World-System' is based
on the application of the following important inventions and discoveries:
1. The 'Tesla
Transformer.' This apparatus is in the production of electrical
vibrations as revolutionary as gunpowder was in warfare. Currents many
times stronger than any ever generated in the usual ways, and sparks over
one hundred feet long, have been produced by the inventor with an instrument
of this kind.
2. The 'Magnifying
Transmitter.' This is Tesla's best invention, a peculiar transformer
specially adapted to excite the Earth, which is in the transmission of
electrical energy what the telescope is in astronomical observation. By the
use of this marvelous device he has already set up electrical movements of
greater intensity than those of lightning and passed a current, sufficient
to light more than two hundred incandescent lamps, around the Globe.
3. The 'Tesla Wireless
System.' This system comprises a number of improvements and is the only
means known for transmitting economically electrical energy to a distance
without wires. Careful tests and measurements in connection with an
experimental station of great activity, erected by the inventor in Colorado,
have demonstrated that power in any desired amount can be conveyed, clear
across the Globe if necessary, with a loss not exceeding a few per cent.
4. The 'Art of
Individualization.' This invention of Tesla's is to primitive 'tuning'
what refined language is to unarticulated expression. It makes possible the
transmission of signals or messages absolutely secret and exclusive both in
the active and passive aspect, that is, non-interfering as well as non-interferable.
Each signal is like an individual of unmistakable identity and there is
virtually no limit to the number of stations or instruments which can be
simultaneously operated without the slightest mutual disturbance.
5. 'The Terrestrial
Stationary Waves.' This wonderful discovery, popularly explained, means
that the Earth is responsive to electrical vibrations of definite pitch just
as a tuning fork to certain waves of sound. These particular electrical
vibrations, capable of powerfully exciting the Globe, lend themselves to
innumerable uses of great importance commercially and in many other
respects.
The first 'World-System'
power plant can be put in operation in nine months. With this power plant
it will be practicable to attain electrical activities up to ten million
horsepower and it is designed to serve for as many technical achievements as
are possible without due expense. Among these the following may be
mentioned:
(1) The inter-connection of
the existing telegraph exchanges or offices all over the world;
(2) The establishment of a
secret and non-interferable government telegraph service;
(3) The inter-connection of
all the present telephone exchanges or offices on the Globe;
(4) The universal
distribution of general news, by telegraph or telephone, in connection with
the Press;
(5) The establishment of such
a 'World-System' of intelligence transmission for exclusive private use;
(6) The inter-connection and
operation of all stock tickers of the world;
(7) The establishment of a
'World-System' of musical distribution, etc.;
(8) The universal
registration of time by cheap clocks indicating the hour with astronomical
precision and requiring no attention whatever;
(9) The world transmission of
typed or handwritten characters, letters, checks, etc.;
(10) The establishment of a
universal marine service enabling the navigators of all ships to steer
perfectly without compass, to determine the exact location, hour and speed,
to prevent collisions and disasters, etc.;
(11) The inauguration of a
system of world-printing on land and sea;
(12) The world reproduction
of photographic pictures and all kinds of drawings or records."
I also proposed to make
demonstrations in the wireless transmission of power on a small scale but
sufficient to carry conviction. Besides these I referred to other and
incomparably more important applications of my discoveries which will be
disclosed at some future date.
A plant was built on Long Island
with a tower 187 feet high, having a spherical terminal about 68 feet in
diameter. These dimensions were adequate for the transmission of virtually any
amount of energy. Originally only from 200 to 300 K.W. were provided but I
intended to employ later several thousand horsepower. The transmitter was to
emit a wave complex of special characteristics and I had devised a unique method
of telephonic control of any amount of energy.
The tower was destroyed two years
ago but my projects are being developed and another one, improved in some
features, will be constructed. On this occasion I would contradict the widely
circulated report that the structure was demolished by the Government which
owing to war conditions, might have created prejudice in the minds of those who
may not know that the papers, which thirty years ago conferred upon me the honor
of American citizenship, are always kept in a safe, while my orders, diplomas,
degrees, gold medals and other distinctions are packed away in old trunks. If
this report had a foundation I would have been refunded a large sum of money
which I expended in the construction of the tower. On the contrary it was in
the interest of the Government to preserve it, particularly as it would have
made possible—to mention just one valuable result—the location of a submarine in
any part of the world. My plant, services, and all my improvements have always
been at the disposal of the officials and ever since the outbreak of the
European conflict I have been working at a sacrifice on several inventions of
mine relating to aerial navigation, ship propulsion and wireless transmission
which are of the greatest importance to the country. Those who are well
informed know that my ideas have revolutionized the industries of the United
States and I am not aware that there lives an inventor who has been, in this
respect, as fortunate as myself especially as regards the use of his
improvements in the war. I have refrained from publicly expressing myself on
this subject before as it seemed improper to dwell on personal matters while all
the world was in dire trouble.
I would add further, in view of
various rumors which have reached me, that Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan did not
interest himself with me in a business way but in the same large spirit in which
he has assisted many other pioneers. He carried out his generous promise to the
letter and it would have been most unreasonable to expect from him anything
more. He had the highest regard for my attainments and gave me every evidence
of his complete faith in my ability to ultimately achieve what I had set out to
do. I am unwilling to accord to some smallminded and jealous individuals the
satisfaction of having thwarted my efforts. These men are to me nothing more
than microbes of a nasty disease. My project was retarded by laws of nature.
The world was not prepared for it. It was too far ahead of time. But the same
laws will prevail in the end and make it a triumphal success.
No subject to which I have ever
devoted myself has called for such concentration of mind and strained to so
dangerous a degree the finest fibers of my brain as the system of which the
Magnifying Transmitter is the foundation. I put all the intensity and vigor of
youth in the development of the rotating field discoveries, but those early
labors were of a different character. Although strenuous in the extreme, they
did not involve that keen and exhausting discernment which had to be exercised
in attacking the many puzzling problems of the wireless. Despite my rare
physical endurance at that period the abused nerves finally rebelled and I
suffered a complete collapse, just as the consummation of the long and difficult
task was almost in sight.
Without doubt I would have paid a
greater penalty later, and very likely my career would have been prematurely
terminated, had not providence equipt me with a safety device, which has seemed
to improve with advancing years and unfailingly comes into play when my forces
are at an end. So long as it operates I am safe from danger, due to overwork,
which threatens other inventors and, incidentally, I need no vacations which are
indispensable to most people. When I am all but used up I simply do as the
darkies, who "naturally fall asleep while white folks worry." To venture a
theory out of my sphere, the body probably accumulates little by little a
definite quantity of some toxic agent and I sink into a nearly lethargic state
which lasts half an hour to the minute. Upon awakening I have the sensation as
though the events immediately preceding had occurred very long ago, and if I
attempt to continue the interrupted train of thought I feel a veritable mental
nausea. Involuntarily I then turn to other work and am surprised at the
freshness of the mind and ease with which I overcome obstacles that had baffled
me before. After weeks or months my passion for the temporarily abandoned
invention returns and I invariably find answers to all the vexing questions with
scarcely any effort.
In this connection I will tell of
an extraordinary experience which may be of interest to students of psychology.
I had produced a striking phenomenon with my grounded transmitter and was
endeavoring to ascertain its true significance in relation to the currents
propagated through the earth. It seemed a hopeless undertaking, and for more
than a year I worked unremittingly, but in vain. This profound study so
entirely absorbed me that I became forgetful of everything else, even of my
undermined health. At last, as I was at the point of breaking down, nature
applied the preservative inducing lethal sleep. Regaining my senses I realized
with consternation that I was unable to visualize scenes from my life except
those of infancy, the very first ones that had entered my consciousness.
Curiously enough, these appeared before my vision with startling distinctness
and afforded me welcome relief. Night after night, when retiring, I would think
of them and more and more of my previous existence was revealed. The image of
my mother was always the principal figure in the spectacle that slowly unfolded,
and a consuming desire to see her again gradually took possession of me. This
feeling grew so strong that I resolved to drop all work and satisfy my longing.
But I found it too hard to break away from the laboratory, and several months
elapsed during which I had succeeded in reviving all the impressions of my past
life up to the spring of 1892. In the next picture that came out of the mist of
oblivion, I saw myself at the Hotel de la Paix in Paris just coming to from one
of my peculiar sleeping spells, which had been caused by prolonged exertion of
the brain. Imagine the pain and distress I felt when it flashed upon my mind
that a dispatch was handed to me at that very moment bearing the sad news that
my mother was dying. I remembered how I made the long journey home without an
hour of rest and how she passed away after weeks of agony! It was especially
remarkable that during all this period of partially obliterated memory I was
fully alive to everything touching on the subject of my research. I could
recall the smallest details and the least significant observations in my
experiments and even recite pages of text and complex mathematical formulae.
My belief is firm in a law of
compensation. The true rewards are ever in proportion to the labor and
sacrifices made. This is one of the reasons why I feel certain that of all my
inventions, the Magnifying Transmitter will prove most important and valuable to
future generations. I am prompted to this prediction not so much by thoughts of
the commercial and industrial revolution which it will surely bring about, but
of the humanitarian consequences of the many achievements it makes possible.
Considerations of mere utility weigh little in the balance against the higher
benefits of civilization. We are confronted with portentous problems which can
not be solved just by providing for our material existence, however abundantly.
On the contrary, progress in this direction is fraught with hazards and perils
not less menacing than those born from want and suffering. If we were to
release the energy of atoms or discover some other way of developing cheap and
unlimited power at any point of the globe this accomplishment, instead of being
a blessing, might bring disaster to mankind in giving rise to dissension and
anarchy which would ultimately result in the enthronement of the hated regime of
force. The greatest good will comes from technical improvements tending to
unification and harmony, and my wireless transmitter is preeminently such. By
its means the human voice and likeness will be reproduced everywhere and
factories driven thousands of miles from waterfalls furnishing the power; aerial
machines will be propelled around the earth without a stop and the sun's energy
controlled to create lakes and rivers for motive purposes and transformation of
arid deserts into fertile land. Its introduction for telegraphic, telephonic
and similar uses will automatically cut out the statics and all other
interferences which at present impose narrow limits to the application of the
wireless.
This is a timely topic on which a
few words might not be amiss. During the past decade a number of people have
arrogantly claimed that they had succeeded in doing away with this impediment.
I have carefully examined all of the arrangements described and tested most of
them long before they were publicly disclosed, but the finding was uniformly
negative. A recent official statement from the U.S. Navy may, perhaps, have
taught some beguilable news editors how to appraise these announcments at their
real worth. As a rule the attempts are based on theories so fallacious that
whenever they come to my notice I can not help thinking in a lighter vein.
Quite recently a new discovery was heralded, with a deafening flourish of
trumpets, but it proved another case of a mountain bringing forth a mouse.
This reminds me of an exciting
incident which took place years ago when I was conducting my experiments with
currents of high frequency. Steve Brodie had just jumped off the Brooklyn
Bridge. The feat has been vulgarized since by imitators, but the first report
electrified New York. I was very impressionable then and frequently spoke of
the daring printer. On a hot afternoon I felt the necessity of refreshing
myself and stepped into one of the popular thirty thousand institutions of this
great city where a delicious twelve per cent beverage was served which can now
be had only by making a trip to the poor and devastated countries of Europe.
The attendance was large and not overdistinguished and a matter was discussed
which gave me an admirable opening for the careless remark: "This is what I said
when I jumped off the bridge." No sooner had I uttered these words than I felt
like the companion of Timotheus in the poem of Schiller. In an instant there
was a pandemonium and a dozen voices cried: "It is Brodie! " I threw a quarter
on the counter and bolted for the door but the crowd was at my heels with yells:
"Stop, Steve!" which must have been misunderstood for many persons tried to hold
me up as I ran frantically for my haven of refuge. By darting around corners I
fortunately managed - through the medium of a fire-escape - to reach the
laboratory where I threw off my coat, camouflaged myself as a hard-working
blacksmith, and started the forge. But these precautions proved unnecessary; I
had eluded my pursuers. For many years afterward, at night, when imagination
turns into spectres the trifling troubles of the day, I often thought, as I
tossed on the bed, what my fate would have been had that mob caught me and found
out that I was not Steve Brodie!
Now the engineer, who lately gave
an account before a technical body of a novel remedy against statics based on a
"heretofore unknown law of nature," seems to have been as reckless as myself
when he contended that these disturbances propagate up and down, while those of
a transmitter proceed along the earth. It would mean that a condenser, as this
globe, with its gaseous envelope, could be charged and discharged in a manner
quite contrary to the fundamental teachings propounded in every elemental
text-book of physics. Such a supposition would have been condemned as
erroneous, even in Franklin's time, for the facts bearing on this were then well
known and the identity between atmospheric electricity and that developed by
machines was fully established. Obviously, natural and artificial disturbances
propagate through the earth and the air in exactly the same way, and both set up
electromotive forces in the horizontal, as well as vertical, sense.
Interference can not be overcome by any such methods as were proposed. The
truth is this: in the air the potential increases at the rate of about fifty
volts per foot of elevation, owing to which there may be a difference of
pressure amounting to twenty, or even forty thousand volts between the upper and
lower ends of the antenna. The masses of the charged atmosphere are constantly
in motion and give up electricity to the conductor, not continuously but rather
disruptively, this producing a grinding noise in a sensitive telephonic
receiver. The higher the terminal and the greater the space encompassed by the
wires, the more pronounced is the effect, but it must be understood that it is
purely local and has little to do with the real trouble.
In 1900, while perfecting my
wireless system, one form of apparatus comprised four antennae. These were
carefully calibrated to the same frequency and connected in multiple with the
object of magnifying the action, in receiving from any direction. When I
desired to ascertain the origin of the transmitted impulses, each diagonally
situated pair was put in series with a primary coil energizing the detector
circuit. In the former case the sound was loud in the telephone; in the latter
it ceased, as expected, the two antennae neutralizing each other, but the true
statics manifested themselves in both instances and I had to devise special
preventives embodying different principles.
By employing receivers connected
to two points of the ground, as suggested by me long ago, this trouble caused by
the charged air, which is very serious in the structures as now built, is
nullified and besides, the liability of all kinds of interference is reduced to
about one-half, because of the directional character of the circuit. This was
perfectly self-evident, but came as a revelation to some simple-minded wireless
folks whose experience was confined to forms of apparatus that could have been
improved with an axe, and they have been disposing of the bear's skin before
killing him. If it were true that strays performed such antics, it would be
easy to get rid of them by receiving without aerials. But, as a matter of fact,
a wire buried in the ground which, conforming to this view, should be absolutely
immune, is more susceptible to certain extraneous impulses than one placed
vertically in the air. To state it fairly, a slight progress has been made, but
not by virtue of any particular method or device. It was achieved simply by
discarding the enormous structures, which are bad enough for transmission but
wholly unsuitable for reception, and adopting a more appropriate type of
receiver. As I pointed out in a previous article, to dispose of this difficulty
for good, a radical change must be made in the system, and the sooner this is
done the better.
It would be calamitous, indeed,
if at this time when the art is in its infancy and the vast majority, not
excepting even experts, have no conception of its ultimate possibilities, a
measure would be rushed through the legislature making it a government
monopoly. This was proposed a few weeks ago by Secretary Daniels, and no doubt
that distinguished official has made his appeal to the Senate and House of
Representatives with sincere conviction. But universal evidence unmistakably
shows that the best results are always obtained in healthful commercial
competition. There are, however, exceptional reasons why wireless should be
given the fullest freedom of development. In the first place it offers
prospects immeasurably greater and more vital to betterment of human life than
any other invention or discovery in the history of man. Then again, it must be
understood that this wonderful art has been, in its entirety, evolved here and
can be called "American" with more right and propriety than the telephone, the
incandescent lamp or the aeroplane. Enterprising press agents and stock jobbers
have been so successful in spreading misinformation that even so excellent a
periodical as the Scientific American accords the chief credit to a foreign
country. The Germans, of course, gave us the Hertz-waves and the Russian,
English, French and Italian experts were quick in using them for signaling
purposes. It was an obvious application of the new agent and accomplished with
the old classical and unimproved induction coil - scarcely anything more than
another kind of heliography. The radius of transmission was very limited, the
results attained of little value, and the Hertz oscillations, as a means for
conveying intelligence, could have been advantageously replaced by sound-waves,
which I advocated in 1891. Moreover, all of these attempts were made three
years after the basic principles of the wireless system, which is universally
employed to-day, and its potent instrumentalities had been clearly described and
developed in America. No trace of those Hertzian appliances and methods remains
today. We have proceeded in the very opposite direction and what has been done
is the product of the brains and efforts of citizens of this country. The
fundamental patents have expired and the opportunities are open to all. The
chief argument of the Secretary is based on interference. According to his
statement, reported in the New York Herald of July 29th, signals from a powerful
station can be intercepted in every village of the world . In view of this
fact, which was demonstrated in my experiments of 1900, it would be of little
use to impose restrictions in the United States.
As throwing light on this point,
I may mention that only recently an odd looking gentleman called on me with the
object of enlisting my services in the construction of world transmitters in
some distant land. "We have no money," he said, "but carloads of solid gold and
we will give you a liberal amount." I told him that I wanted to see first what
will be done with my inventions in America, and this ended the interview. But I
am satisfied that some dark forces are at work, and as time goes on the
maintenance of continuous communication will be rendered more difficult. The
only remedy is a system immune against interruption. It has been perfected, it
exists, and all that is necessary is to put it in operation.
The terrible conflict is still
uppermost in the minds and perhaps the greatest importance will be attached to
the Magnifying Transmitter as a machine for attack and defense, more
particularly in connection with Telautomatics. This invention is a logical
outcome of observations begun in my boyhood and continued thruout my life. When
the first results were publisht the Electrical Review stated editorially that it
would become one of the "most potent factors in the advance and civilization of
mankind." The time is not distant when this prediction will be fulfilled. In
1898 and 1900 it was offered to the Government and might have been adopted were
I one of those who would go to Alexander's shepherd when they want a favor from
Alexander. At that time I really thought that it would abolish war, because of
its unlimited destructiveness and exclusion of the personal element of combat.
But while I have not lost faith in its potentialities, my views have changed
since.
War can not be avoided until the
physical cause for its recurrence is removed and this, in the last analysis, is
the vast extent of the planet on which we live. Only thru annihilation of
distance in every respect, as the conveyance of intelligence, transport of
passengers and supplies and transmission of energy will conditions be brought
about some day, insuring permanency of friendly relations. What we now want
most is closer contact and better understanding between individuals and
communities all over the earth, and the elimination of that fanatic devotion to
exalted ideals of national egoism and pride which is always prone to plunge the
world into primeval barbarism and strife. No league or parliamentary act of any
kind will ever prevent such a calamity. These are only new devices for putting
the weak at the mercy of the strong. I have exprest myself in this regard
fourteen years ago, when a combination of a few leading governments - a sort of
Holy Alliance - was advocated by the late Andrew Carnegie, who may be fairly
considered as the father of this idea, having given to it more publicity and
impetus than anybody else prior to the efforts of the President. While it can
not be denied that such a pact might be of material advantage to some less
fortunate peoples, it can not attain the chief object sought. Peace can only
come as a natural consequence of universal enlightenment and merging of races,
and we are still far from this blissful realization.
As I view the world of today, in
the light of the gigantic struggle we have witnest, I am filled with conviction
that the interests of humanity would be best served if the United States
remained true to its traditions and kept out of "entangling alliances." Situated
as it is, geographically, remote from the theaters of impending conflicts,
without incentive to territorial aggrandizement, with inexhaustible resources
and immense population thoroly imbued with the spirit of liberty and right, this
country is placed in a unique and privileged position. It is thus able to
exert, independently, its colossal strength and moral force to the benefit of
all, more judiciously and effectively, than as member of a league.
In one of these biographical
sketches, published in the ELECTRICAL EXPERIMENTER, I have dwelt on the
circumstances of my early life and told of an affliction which compelled me to
unremitting exercise of imagination and self observation. This mental activity,
at first involuntary under the pressure of illness and suffering, gradually
became second nature and led me finally to recognize that I was but an automaton
devoid of free will in thought and action and merely responsive to the forces of
the environment. Our bodies are of such complexity of structure, the motions we
perform are so numerous and involved, and the external impressions on our sense
organs to such a degree delicate and elusive that it is hard for the average
person to grasp this fact. And yet nothing is more convincing to the trained
investigator than the mechanistic theory of life which had been, in a measure,
understood and propounded by Descartes three hundred years ago. But in his time
many important functions of our organism were unknown and, especially with
respect to the nature of light and the construction and operation of the eye,
philosophers were in the dark.
In recent years the progress of
scientific research in these fields has been such as to leave no room for a
doubt in regard to this view on which many works have been published. One of
its ablest and most eloquent exponents is, perhaps, Felix Le Dantec, formerly
assistant of Pasteur. Prof. Jacques Loeb has performed remarkable experiments
in heliotropism, clearly establishing the controlling power of light in lower
forms of organisms, and his latest book, "Forced Movements," is revelatory. But
while men of science accept this theory simply as any other that is recognized,
to me it is a truth which I hourly demonstrate by every act and thought of
mine. The consciousness of the external impression prompting me to any kind of
exertion, physical or mental, is ever present in my mind. Only on very rare
occasions, when I was in a state of exceptional concentration, have I found
difficulty in locating the original impulses.
The by far greater number of
human beings are never aware of what is passing around and within them, and
millions fall victims of disease and die prematurely just on this account. The
commonest every-day occurrences appear to them mysterious and inexplicable. One
may feel a sudden wave of sadness and rake his brain for an explanation when he
might have noticed that it was caused by a cloud cutting off the rays of the
sun. He may see the image of a friend dear to him under conditions which he
construes as very peculiar, when only shortly before he has passed him in the
street or seen his photograph somewhere. When he loses a collar button he
fusses and swears for an hour, being unable to visualize his previous actions
and locate the object directly. Deficient observation is merely a form of
ignorance and responsible for the many morbid notions and foolish ideas
prevailing. There is not more than one out of every ten persons who does not
believe in telepathy and other psychic manifestations, spiritualism and
communion with the dead, and who would refuse to listen to willing or unwilling
deceivers.
Just to illustrate how deeply
rooted this tendency has become even among the clearheaded American population,
I may mention a comical incident. Shortly before the war, when the exhibition
of my turbines in this city elicited widespread comment in the technical papers,
I anticipated that there would. be a scramble among manufacturers to get hold
of the invention, and I had particular designs on that man from Detroit who has
an uncanny faculty for accumulating millions. So confident was I that he would
turn up some day, that I declared this as certain to my secretary and
assistants. Sure enough, one fine morning a body of engineers from the Ford
Motor Company presented themselves with the request of discussing with me an
important project. "Didn't I tell you?" I remarked triumphantly to my
employees, and one of them said, "You are amazing, Mr. Tesla; everything comes
out exactly as you predict." As soon as these hard-headed men were seated I, of
course, immediately began to extol the wonderful features of my turbine, when
the spokesmen interrupted me and said, "We know all about this, but we are on a
special errand. We have formed a psychological society for the investigation of
psychic phenomena and we want you to join us in this undertaking." I suppose
those engineers never knew how near they came to being fired out of my office.
Ever since I was told by some of
the greatest men of the time, leaders in science whose names are immortal, that
I am possesst of an unusual mind, I bent all my thinking faculties on the
solution of great problems regardless of sacrifice. For many years I endeavored
to solve the enigma of death, and watched eagerly for every kind of spiritual
indication. But only once in the course of my existence have I had an
experience which momentarily impressed me as supernatural. It was at the time
of my mother's death. I had become completely exhausted by pain and long
vigilance, and one night was carried to a building about two blocks from our
home. As I lay helpless there, I thought that if my mother died while I was
away from her bedside she would surely give me a sign. Two or three months
before I was in London in company with my late friend, Sir William Crookes, when
spiritualism was discussed, and I was under the full sway of these thoughts. I
might not have paid attention to other men, but was susceptible to his arguments
as it was his epochal work on radiant matter, which I had read as a student,
that made me embrace the electrical career. I reflected that the conditions for
a look into the beyond were most favorable, for my mother was a woman of genius
and particularly excelling in the powers of intuition. During the whole night
every fiber in my brain was strained in expectancy, but nothing happened until
early in the morning, when I fell in a sleep, or perhaps a swoon, and saw a
cloud carrying angelic figures of marvelous beauty, one of whom gazed upon me
lovingly and gradually assumed the features of my mother. The appearance slowly
floated across the room and vanished, and I was awakened by an indescribably
sweet song of many voices. In that instant a certitude, which no words can
express, came upon me that my mother had just died. And that was true. I was
unable to understand the tremendous weight of the painful knowledge I received
in advance, and wrote a letter to Sir William Crookes while still under the
domination of these impressions and in poor bodily health. When I recovered I
sought for a long time the external cause of this strange manifestation and, to
my great relief, I succeeded after many months of fruitless effort. I had seen
the painting of a celebrated artist, representing allegorically one of the
seasons in the form of a cloud with a group of angels which seemed to actually
float in the air, and this had struck me forcefully. It was exactly the same
that appeared in my dream, with the exception of my mother's likeness. The
music came from the choir in the church nearby at the early mass of Easter
morning, explaining everything satisfactorily in conformity with scientific
facts.
This occurred long ago, and I
have never had the faintest reason since to change my views on psychical and
spiritual phenomena, for which there is absolutely no foundation. The belief in
these is the natural outgrowth of intellectual development. Religious dogmas
are no longer accepted in their orthodox meaning, but every individual clings to
faith in a supreme power of some kind. We all must have an ideal to govern our
conduct and insure contentment, but it is immaterial whether it be one of creed,
art, science or anything else, so long as it fulfills the function of a
dematerializing force. It is essential to the peacef ul existence of humanity
as a whole that one common conception should prevail.
While I have failed to obtain any
evidence in support of the contentions of psychologists and spiritualists, I
have proved to my complete satisfaction the automatism of life, not only through
continuous observations of individual actions, but even more conclusively
through certain generalizations. These amount to a discovery which I consider
of the greatest moment to human society, and on which I shall briefly dwell. I
got the first inkling of this astounding truth when I was still a very young
man, but for many years I interpreted what I noted simply as coincidences.
Namely, whenever either myself or a person to whom I was attached, or a cause to
which I was devoted, was hurt by others in a particular way, which might be best
popularly characterized as the most unfair imaginable, I experienced a singular
and undefinable pain which, for want of a better term, I have qualified as
"cosmic," and shortly thereafter, and invariably, those who had inflicted it
came to grief. After many such cases I confided this to a number of friends,
who had the opportunity to convince themselves of the truth of the theory which
I have gradually formulated and which may be stated in the following few words:
Our bodies are of similar
construction and exposed to the same external influences. This results in
likeness of response and concordance of the general activities on which all our
social and other rules and laws are based. We are automata entirely controlled
by the forces of the medium being tossed about like corks on the surface of the
water, but mistaking the resultant of the impulses from the outside for free
will. The movements and other actions we perform are always life preservative
and tho seemingly quite independent from one another, we are connected by
invisible links. So long as the organism is in perfect order it responds
accurately to the agents that prompt it, but the moment that there is some
derangement in any individual, his self-preservative power is impaired.
Everybody understands, of course, that if one becomes deaf, has his eyesight
weakened, or his limbs injured, the chances for his continued existence are
lessened. But this is also true, and perhaps more so, of certain defects in the
brain which deprive the automaton, more or less, of that vital quality and cause
it to rush into destruction. A very sensitive and observant being, with his
highly developed mechanism all intact, and acting with precision in obedience to
the changing conditions of the environment, is endowed with a transcending
mechanical sense, enabling him to evade perils too subtle to be directly
perceived. When he comes in contact with others whose controlling organs are
radically faulty, that sense asserts itself and he feels the "cosmic" pain. The
truth of this has been borne out in hundreds of instances and I am inviting
other students of nature to devote attention to this subject, believing that
thru combined and systematic effort results of incalculable value to the world
will be attained.
The idea of constructing an
automaton, to bear out my theory, presented itself to me early but I did not
begin active work until 1893, when I started my wireless investigations. During
the succeeding two or three years a number of automatic mechanisms, to be
actuated from a distance, were constructed by me and exhibited to visitors in my
laboratory. In 1896, however, I designed a complete machine capable of a
multitude of operations, but the consummation of my labors was delayed until
late in 1897. This machine was illustrated and described in my article in the
Century Magazine of June, 1900, and other periodicals of that time and, when
first shown in the beginning of 1898, it created a sensation such as no other
invention of mine has ever produced. In November, 1898, a basic patent on the
novel art was granted to me, but only after the Examiner-in-Chief had come to
New York and witnesst the performance, for what I claimed seemed unbelievable.
I remember that when later I called on an official in Washington, with a view of
offering the invention to the Government, he burst out in laughter upon my
telling him what I had accomplished. Nobody thought then that there was the
faintest prospect of perfecting such a device. It is unfortunate that in this
patent, following the advice of my attorneys, I indicated the control as being
effected thru the medium of a single circuit and a well-known form of detector,
for the reason that I had not yet secured protection on my methods and apparatus
for individualization. As a matter of fact, my boats were controlled thru the
joint action of several circuits and interference of every kind was excluded.
Most generally I employed receiving circuits in the form of loops, including
condensers, because the discharges of my high-tension transmitter ionized the
air in the hall so that even a very small aerial would draw electricity from the
surrounding atmosphere for hours. Just to give an idea, I found, for instance,
that a bulb 12" in diameter, highly exhausted, and with one single terminal to
which a short wire was attached, would deliver well on to one thousand
successive flashes before all charge of the air in the laboratory was
neutralized. The loop form of receiver was not sensitive to such a disturbance
and it is curious to note that it is becoming popular at this late date. In
reality it collects much less energy than the aerials or a long grounded wire,
but it so happens that it does away with a number of defects inherent to the
present wireless devices. In demonstrating my invention before audiences, the
visitors were requested to ask any questions, however involved, and the
automaton would answer them by signs. This was considered magic at that time
but was extremely simple, for it was myself who gave the replies by means of the
device.
At the same period another larger
telautomatic boat was constructed a photograph of which is shown in this number
of the ELECTRICAL EXPERIMENTER. It was controlled by loops, having several
turns placed in the hull, which was made entirely water-tight and capable of
submergence. The apparatus was similar to that used in the first with the
exception of certain special features I introduced as, for example, incandescent
lamps which afforded a visible evidence of the proper functioning of the
machine.
These automata, controlled within
the range of vision of the operator, were, however, the first and rather crude
steps in the evolution of the Art of Telautomatics as I had conceived it. The
next logical improvement was its application to automatic mechanisms beyond the
limits of vision and at great distance from the center of control, and I have
ever since advocated their employment as instruments of warfare in preference to
guns. The importance of this now seems to be recognized, if I am to judge from
casual announcements thru the press of achievements which are said to be
extraordinary but contain no merit of novelty, whatever. In an imperfect manner
it is practicable, with the existing wireless plants, to launch an aeroplane,
have it follow a certain approximate course, and perform some operation at a
distance of many hundreds of miles. A machine of this kind can also be
mechanically controlled in several ways and I have no doubt that it may prove of
some usefulness in war. But there are, to my best knowledge, no
instrumentalities in existence today with which such an object could be
accomplished in a precise manner. I have devoted years of study to this matter
and have evolved means, making such and greater wonders easily realizable.
As stated on a previous occasion,
when I was a student at college I conceived a flying machine quite unlike the
present ones. The underlying principle was sound but could not be carried into
practice for want of a prime-mover of sufficiently great activity. In recent
years I have successfully solved this problem and am now planning aerial
machines devoid of sustaining planes, ailerons, propellers and other external
attachments, which will be capable of immense speeds and are very likely to
furnish powerful arguments for peace in the near future. Such a machine,
sustained and propelled entirely by reaction, is shown on page 108 and is
supposed to be controlled either mechanically or by wireless energy. By
installing proper plants it will be practicable to project a missile of this
kind into the air and drop it almost on the very spot designated, which may be
thousands of miles away. But we are not going to stop at this. Telautomata
will be ultimately produced, capable of acting as if possest of their own
intelligence, and their advent will create a revolution. As early as 1898 I
proposed to representatives of a large manufacturing concern the construction
and public exhibition of an automobile carriage which, left to itself, would
perform a great variety of operations involving something akin to judgment. But
my proposal was deemed chimerical at that time and nothing came from it.
At present many of the ablest
minds are trying to devise expedients for preventing a repetition of the awful
conflict which is only theoretically ended and the duration and main issues of
which I have correctly predicted in an article printed in the Sun of December
20, 1914. The proposed League is not a remedy but on the contrary, in the
opinion of a number of competent men, may bring about results just the
opposite. It is particularly regrettable that a punitive policy was adopted in
framing the terms of peace, because a few years hence it will be possible for
nations to fight without armies, ships or guns, by weapons far more terrible, to
the destructive action and range of which there is virtually no limit. A city,
at any distance whatsoever from the enemy, can be destroyed by him and no power
on earth can stop him from doing so. If we want to avert an impending calamity
and a state of things which may transform this globe into an inferno, we should
push the development of flying machines and wireless transmission of energy
without an instant's delay and with all the power and resources of the nation.
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