PLATE 9.
Vol. 12.
PLATE 10.
VoL 12.
PLATE 11.
Vol. 12.
PLATE 12.
Vol. 12.
COM PrO UND    BUGGY. — £  in.   scale
Designed expressly for the New  York Coach-maker's Magazine.
Explained on page 41.
ROAD    PHAETON. — I   in.   scale.
Designed expressly  for the New  York Coach-maker's Magazine.
Explained on page 41.
DEVOTED   TO   THE   LITERARY,   SOCIAL,   AND  MECHANICAL  INTERESTS  OF  THE  CRAFT
Vol.   XII.
1STEW   YOEK,   AUGUST,   1870.
No. 3
 ^iterator*.
TREATISE ON THE WOOD-WORK  OF
CARRIAGES.
{Continued from page 21.)
Having the projections of the triangle on a plane S,
perpendicular to the axis of deployment, the question is
therefore reduced that we have solved (art. 74). When
the triangle is turned down upon the horizontal plane, the
arcs described by each of the angles (a a,), (c c¦), b b;),
pierce that place in points, whose vertical projections on
the plane S are a///,-cl//,d///,where the arcs described with
point el as center, and e/ an e, c(, e, bf, as radii, meet M N.
The horizontal projections of the same points are, for the
angle (a a/), the point A, the intersection of the lines a A
and an/ A/? the first being perpendicular to the axis d e,
and the second perpendicular to the intersection M N.
The same refers to the other angles, the arcs of which
pierce the horizontal plane in B and C. On joining the
points A, B, and C by the lines A B, A C, and B C, the
triangle ABC formed by them is the triangle sought for.
LXXIX. Instead of turning over the triangle (a b c,
a1 b1 c') on to the horizontal plane, it can be brought into
a parallel position to the first vertical plane Q, by two
rotary movements, and the new projections that will re-
sult on that plane can be constructed. The first rotary
movement, for instance, could be executed around a ver-
tical axis of the point d, until the line d e be brought par-
allel to X Y. In this movement, all the horizontal pro-
jections would preserve their relative positions. The
second movement would take place around d e, until the
triangle be brought into a vertical position. Then, in
order to construct the length of the radii of the arcs from
each point taken, it would require a plane perpendicular
to the axis, or deduct the lengths of the two projections of
each radius in like manner as that adopted hereafter in
reference to a line. This second method, by which to
construct the triangle in its full size, would be longer than
the first, because there would be an additional rotary mo-
tion. Therefore there would be two projections on the
horizontal plane, the projection a b c, and another after
having brought the line d e to bear parallel to X Y; there
would likewise be an auxiliary plane S, and two projec-
Vol. XII.—5
tions on the vertical plane Q; firstly, a1 b'c1, which al-
ready exists, and secondly, that which must be constructed
when the triangle is brought to bear parallel to that plane :
in all, five projections ; whereas, by deploying the trian-
gle on to the horizontal plane, there would be but four.
The constructions requiring the fewer projections must
in all cases be preferred, because, however great may be
the precision and attention exercised, in practice there are
at all times causes for error, either arising from the imper-
fection of the instruments or the physical means that are
employed. It therefore naturally follows that the causes
of error are multiplied in proportion to the number of
projections.
LXXX. Observations.—The table of all the graph-
ical constructions that will be presented by the operations
being for the purpose of determining in their size, the lines,
surfaces, and dihedral angles, will only offer a repetition
of the constructions that we have just executed in reference
to a triangle (art. 72 to 79).
According to the position of the triangle, or of any
other.plane surface under consideration, in respect to the
planes of projection, the operation being for the purpose of
bringing that surface either parallel to one of the two
planes of projection, or on one of those planes, it can be
carried out: firstly, by turning over or deploying (art.
74, 75, and 76); secondly, by a rotary movement (art.
77); thirdly, by a change of the plane of projection, and
turning down (art. 78); fourthly and lastly, by two rotary
movements and a change of the plane of projection (art.
79).
LXXXI. Deploying indicates the operation+hat con
sists in moving the surface considered in space, in order
to bring it to bear upon one of the two planes of projec-
tion. Then the axis of deployment is the common inter-
section of the plane of projection and the surface in space,
extended if necessary.
According to the position of the surface in space, the
axis of rotation can occupy four different positions on one
of the two planes of projection, in reference to their com-
mon intersection : it can be confused with that line, paral-
lel, perpendicular, or oblique to it.
LXXX1I. Under the name of axis of rotation, it is
more particularly designated a line perpendicular to one of
the two planes of projection, and passing through one of
the extreme points of the surface in question. Hence it
follows, that if the axis is perpendicular to the horizontal
34
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
August,
plane, for instance, each point of the surface, in turning
around that axis, describes a horizontal arc, which is pro-
jected with its radius in full size on the horizontal plane,
and on a line parallel to the ground line, on the vertical
plane, and reciprocally. Then it is not at all necessary
to construct the two projections of the axis of rotation.
It suffices to indicate on the plane of projection perpen-
dicular to the axis the projection of the point through
which it passes. Therefore, in the article 79, it would
have sufficed to state that the triangle is turned around a
vertical axis of point c.
The axis of rotation furthermore infers a line parallel
to the intersection of the two planes of projection, and
taken on one of those planes, around which a surface in
space is moved, in order to bring in a position parallel
to the other plane of projection.
LXXXIJI. In reference to the operation having for
its object the bringing over of a surface on to a plane of
projection, or in a position parallel to one of those planes,
which is effected by deploying, by a rotary motion, or by
both, it is necessary to remark:
Firstly. That every point of the surface in question,
in turning around a fixed axis, describes a circumference
or an arc, the plane of which is perpendicular to the line
taken for the axis of rotation.
Secondly. That the circumference or the arc described
by each point is projected with its radius in their full
size, on a plane perpendicular to the axis, and by a line
perpendicular to the axis, on any plane passing through
that axis.
Thirdly. That the center of the circumference, or of
the arc described by each point, is included in the axis, or
in its extension, at the intersection of that axis and the
plane of the circumference or the arc.
length of a line suffices to secure the size of the plane sur-
face to which that line belongs.
To. find the Length of a Line, the two Projec-
tions of which are given.—If the proposed line is paral-
lel to one of the two planes of projection, its length is
determined by its projection on that plane (art. 52). Let
A B (fig. 54) be the proposed line, and parallel to the
vertical plane Q. Its projection a'b1 on that plane will
be equal and parallel to it.    It is acknowledged that a line
LXXXIV. Operations on Straight Lines.—Opera-
tions on straight lines in space are for the purpose of fix-
ing their length.    Frequently the determination of the
A B is parallel to one of the two planes of projection Q
when its projection a b, in the other plane P, is parallel td
the ground line X Y, so as to have a a0 equal to b b0. The
figure 54 is in perspective, but in that respect we give fig-
ure 55, that presents the same given points, with the
points marked with the same letters, on geometrical
planes. The line A B is represented on those two planes
by its two projections (a b, a' bJ).
If the line is inclined in any manner whatever, in re-
spect to the planes of projection, its length is greater than
that of each of its projections, which in that case are
oblique to the ground line. The length of the line is re-
duced by the aid of its projections, by one of the con-
structions effected later, the solution of which we give
below.                                                                   &
Solution.—The proposed line, with its two projections
on either of the two planes of projection, and its projec-
tion on that plane, form a rectangular trapeze determined
by the two planes of projection. One of those planes
contains the projection that forms the basis of the trapeze,
and the other the length of the two adjacent sides that,
together with the basis, form the two right angles of the
trapeze ; the fourth side expresses the length of the pro-
posed line. It therefore remains but to construct that
trapeze on either of the planes of projection.
Suppose A B (fig. 56) to be the proposed line pro-
jected in perspective on two planes, one of which P is
supposed horizontal, and the other Q vertical. Let us
first consider the vertical trapeze formed by the line A B
by its two projectants A a, B b, and by its projection a b
1870.
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
35
on the horizontal plane. The trapeze is now figured in
space, while it is only represented on the planes of projec-
tion by three of its sides: the horizontal projection a b,
which forms its basis, and the two adjacent sides to that
basis, the lengths of which are expressed by the lines
a'a0, bfba, lowered from the extremities arand ft/of the
other projection perpendicular to X Y, which (art. 46)
are respectively equal to the projectants A a and B b, each
one measuring the distance from the extremities of the
line A B to the horizontal plane.
In order to construct the trapeze on that plane, indefi-
nite perpendiculars a- A; and b B'are drawn to the pro-
jection a b, by its extremities a and b, on which the dis-
tances a'awb'ba of the plane Q are measured off from a
to k' and from b to B>.    The line A'B'drawn by th%
points Ayand B/expresses the length desired. In reality,
the trapeze A'a bB', constructed on the horizontal plane,
is equal to the trapeze A a b B in space, having a common
basis a b, the two sides A'a, B'b respectively equal to
the two sides A a, B b, and perpendicular to the basis, the
fourth side of which A'B'is equal to A B.
The figure 57, on geometrical planes of projection,
expresses the construction indicated on the figure 56 in
perspective, with the same points marked with the same
letters. Here the line in space is represented by its two
projections (a b, a! b1), and the sides of the right an-
gles of the vertical trapeze that passes that line, and by
its horizontal projection a b, are represented by the ver-
tical lines a' a0, bJb0, which are respectively carried from
a to A' and from b to B;.
LXXXV. If the horizontal plane P (fig. 56) be ele-
vated until it touches the line A B at its lower end A, the
new horizontal projection of the line will be found trans-
ferred to A c parallel to a b, and the ground line in a'c'
parallel to X Y. Then the line A B is equal to the hy-
pothenuse of a rectangular triangle A c B, the sides of the
right angle being the horizontal projection A c and the
elevation Be or b' c' of the other extremity of the line
above the horizontal plane.
To construct this triangle on the horizontal plane, it
will be observed that the projectien a b being equal to
A c, one of the sides of the right angle, it suffices to draw
a pcrpenaicul.ir b O'io inat une. by one of ihe extremities
b, and to carry over on to that perpendicular the other
side of the right angle B c or b1 c' from b to D. The line
a D'thnat joins the points a and D;is the hypothenuse of
the triangle a b D;, equal to the triangle Ac B. The
same construction is made on the geometrical planes of
figure 57.                                                                •
The two planes of projection being rectangular, the
operations that have been effected on one (figs. 56and 57)
could have been carried out upon the other, and would
have yielded the same result. In general, whatever may
be the plane of projection considered, the length of a line
in space (a b, a b') (fig. 58), when oblique to two planes
.of projection, is equal to the hypothenuse A'b of a rectan-
36
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
August,
gular triangle A a b, of which the sides of the right angle
are : 1°. The projection a b from the line on to one of
the two planes of projection; 2°. The difference a' c'
of the distances of its extremities a' a0, b' b0, to that
plane.
If the vertical projection a/6/of the line is taken for
one of the sides of the right angle, the other side will be
the difference d b of the distances of its extremities 6 b0,
a <zo, to that plane.
Or, if one of the extremities of the line touches a plane
of projection, its length is equal to the hypothenuse of a
rectangular triangle, of which the sides of the right angle
are: 1°. The projection of the line on the plane that it
touches ; 2°. The distance of the other extremity of the
line to that plane.
LXXXVI. Suppose (ab,a'b') (fig. 59) to be the
horizontal and vertical projections of a line. In order to
find the length of that line by one of the simplest con-
structions, it is brought to bear parallel on to one of the
planes of projection—for instance, to the vertical plane—
by turning it around a vertical axis of the point b, until
its horizontal projection a b, be brought to a, b, parallel
toX Y. In the movement, the point (a a') describes a
horizontal arc, which will be projected in its full length
on to the horizontal plane according to the arc a an de-
scribed from the point b as center, and by a horizontal
line a//a/ on to the vertical plane. Now when the line is
parallel to the vertical plane, the point (a a7) stands at
at a", and the line anb\ which joins the two points a "
and bJ \s the line required.
LXXXVII. Operations on the Plane Faces of
Frames.—The operations on the plane faces of frames are
for the purpose of deducting the size of those faces by the
aid of given projections.
When the size of a face is determined on a plane, as
well as all the lines of construction that belong to it, it is
then only necessary to transfer the results on to the face of
the piece of wood for which they are intended. But the
manner of proceeding in transferring the operations effected
on to the face of pieces of wood requires a special article,
which will be treated in the second part.    In this chapter]
we only explain the methods to be employed in construction
on planes of projection, plane faces and dihedral angles, in
their full size, as they must be carried over on to the
pieces of wood.
When a plane face of a frame is parallel to one of the
planes of projection, its projection on that plane being
equal and parallel to it (art. 55), represents all the lines
of construction in their size and respective positions, in
the same manner as they have to be carried over on to
the face of the piece of wood to which they belong.
When a plane face meets a plane of projection, the
intersection of that face and plane is a line, which is called
the trace of the face on the plane. The trace of a face of
a frame on a plane of projection, or of the plane on the
face of the frame, is the common intersection of the face
of the frame and of the plane.
It is acknowledged that the plane face of a frame is
perpendicular to a plane of projection, when its projection
on that plane is a straight line. In that case, if the plane
face of the frame meets the other plane of projection, its
trace on that plane is perpendicular to the common inter-
section of the two planes of projection.
It is acknowledged that the plane face of a frame is
parallel to one of the planes of projection, when its pro-
jection in the other plane is a line parallel to the common
intersection of the two planes of projection.
The operations now about to be solved on different
faces will convey a more general idea.
(To be continued.)
THE COACH FACTORY OF WM. D. ROGERS.
The following description of the coach factory of Mr.
Rogers, in Philadelphia, appeared in a late newspaper of
that city.    We give it in full:
There is one kind of success which affords the very
largest amount of satisfaction to him who achieves it. We
mean success in business, especially a productive business,
such as some branch of manufacture. The artist, poet or
philosopher may succeed in acquiring fame, and yet not
live long enough to enjoy the tardy fruits. Wealth, with
its concomitant comforts, conveniences and luxuries, mav,
indeed, never flow in upon him, and pinching poverty not
unfrequently is his lot through life. In brief, he may be
successful and yet miserable. Not so with the successful
manufacturer. He has not only the gratifying conscious-
ness of having organized victory over compel itors at home
and abroad, of having built up by untiring, persevering
labor and the exercise of much administrative talent and
important industry, which is of benefit to the State, and
which affords occupation and sustenance to many mechan-
ics and laborers, but also the more material attraction
which comes only from the possession of a comfortable
bank account.
Prominent among the Philadelphians who now enjoy
such a twofold satisfaction is
WILLIAM   D.   ROGERS,
whose name is indissolubly associated with the construc-
tion of fine carriages. Like almost every other manufac-
turer who has attained eminence in his business, he was
the architect of his own fortune. In his earlier days he was
a jouinejman coach-builder, noted even then for his in-
dustry and skill as a workman. In this capacity he
traveled all over the United States, the Canadas, and the
1870.
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
37
West Indies, working at his trade in various places, and
at the same time thoroughly acquainting himself with the
peculiar wants of all these different localities, thus laying
the foundations of his subsequent success as the founder of
a great manufacturing establishment which now sends
large numbers of carriages and light vehicles of all kinds,
not only to the countries mentioned, but to Europe.
HISTORY   OF  THE   ESTABLISHMENT.
In 1846 Mr Rogers, still a( young man, laid the basis
of what is now his great establishment. He commenced
the manufacture of coaches in a small building at the cor-
ner of Sixth and Brown streets, employing at first only a
very few hands, but supplementing their work with his
own experienced labor. The business increased so rapid-
ly that by 1853 it was necessary to have much larger ac-
commodations, and new shops, 172 by 137 feet, were built
at Sixth and Master streets. These were four stories high,
and fitted with every convenience and appliance for carry-
ing on the business in the most extensive manner.
But the fame of his carriages spread abroad; orders
came in from all quarters, and for the convenience of city
customers, as well as those from abroad who desired to
select from a large stock, the present
WAREROOMS,
at 1009 and 1011 Chestnut street, were opened in 1857.
Three years later, in 18^0, the rear portion of this build-
ing was fitted up as a workshop. It having been found
necessary now to concentrate the business, in order that the
indefatigable proprietor might have the whole under con-
stant surveillance, the shops at Sixth and Master were dis-
continued, and in 1865 a large four-story brick building on
Filbert street, directly in rear of the one occupied on
Chestnut street, was converted into workshops.
DESCRIPTION    OF   THE    PRESENT   WORKS.
A full account of the various shops and departments
comprising Mr. Rogers' present works, with some expla-
nation of how his coaches are made, would contain much
of general interest. Persons passing the capacious estab-
lishment on Chestnut street have generally no idea that a
large portion of the same building is full of busy workmen,
engaged in fabricating and finishing the beautiful and
stylish vehicles which are afterwards placed there on ex-
hibition, and which fairly dazzle by their brilliant varnish
the eyes of all beholders. Yet so it is. Customers, after
looking through the warerooms and selecting the style of
carriage which suits them, can, if they desire one made to
order, step up stairs and see the tough hickory which is to
be fashioned into the wheels, and the rich satins and cloths
to be used for trimmirg.
On our trip through the establishment recently, we en-
tered first the building at 1016 and 1018 Filbert street,
which is fifty-four by seventy-five feet, and four stories
high. In order to follow the natural order of the work we
began with the third .gtory, where is located the
BODY-ROOM.
This is a large apartment, occupying the whole of the
third floor, in which the carriage bodies are made from
drawings furnished by competent draughtsmen employed
in the establishment. The lumber used is hickory, ash,
poplar, and some little cherry. This is all seasoned from
two to five years, and large quantities of lumber are al-
ways kept carefully housed under sheds in th& yard and
in the rear portion of the second story. The work is gen-
erally done by hand, very little machinery being em-
ployed. The foreman of the room and many of the me-
chanics " served their time " here, and it is needless to add
that they are thorough workmen.
The fourth story above is used as a general storeroom
for bodies, wheels, &c, which, after being "primed," or
given one coat of paint, are raised to this room by means
of an ordinary hoisting apparatus. After remaining here
till thoroughly dry, they go to the smith-shop to be
"ironed."
TPIE   CARRIAGE-PARTS   SHOP
is situated on the second floor. Here a number of the
most skillful and experienced mechanics were busily en-
gaged in fashioning the finest and strongest pignut hickory
wood into running gears or carriage-parts. As in the
former shops, the work is principally done by hand, and
the utmost care is exercised to see that no faulty wood is
incorporated, and that every step of the work is done in a
thoroughly first-class style.
customers' carriages
are stored in a large room on the front of this floor, which,
is devoted exclusively to this purpose. A small rental is
charged, which covers also the insurance against fire or
other accident. A large number of elegant carriages are
now stored there, showing that a considerable demand ex-
ists for such a storeroom.    On the first floor is
THE   BLACKSMITH   SHOP,
where all the wood-work of the heavier carriages is ironed.
The noise of many hammers, files, and other tools, wielded
by stout and skillful Vulcans, fills the place with sounds
which are but music to the ear of Mr. Rogers. To us they
were rather discordant and distracting, and having more
taste for the beauties of the finished work, we hurried on.
We learn that the material used here is the very best
Swedish, Norway, and Ulster iron, and, for some portions
of the work, Bessemer steel. It is by this careful choice
of material that Mr. Rogers secures such remarkable
strength and durability in combination with great lightness
and symmetry.    Crossing over to the
CHESTNUT   STREET   BUILDING,
we found this to be 45 feet in width and to extend from
Chestnut street back to the Mercantile Library building,
178 feet. It is four stories high in front and five in rear.
The finer and lighter carriages are constructed here entire-
ly. The division of the building into different shops and
departments is ev^n more complete and systematic than in
the one just described. Every thing has been arranged
with a view to the utmost convenience and facility, and all
the various branches of the work go forward with the
method and regularity of clockwork.
In the blacksmith shop, on the first floor, back, all the
lighter carriages are ironed, and iron repair work is done.
None but the best forged wrought iron is used, and ex-
perienced workmen do every thing carefully, by hand. ~
The west side of the second floor constitutes the wheel¦"
shop. An unusual degree of thoroughness marks every
portion of the work done in this room. The spokes and
felloes are made of selected hickory, which has not only
been seasoned in the rough lumber, but left to dry a long
38
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
August,
time in bundles, after being turned. The hubs are all
made of gum wood, which is found by long experience to
be the best adapted for the purpose."
THE   TRIMMING-ROOM,
on the rear portion of the third floor, was a place of much
interest to us. The work here begins to assume more the
nature of a fine art. In this room the bodies are all up-
holstered, that is, decorated with the beautiful and costly
cushions, cloths, patent leather, and laces which, in connec-
tion with their general finish, render the coaches of Mr.
Rogers' make such marvels of elegance. The leather used
here is all made to order, and most of the other trimmings
are imported.
Adjoining, on the same floor, is the
PAINT-ROOM,   FOR   REPAIR   WORK,
which is full of old broken-down coaches, buggies, gigs, &c.,
in various stages of disease and convalescence. Passing
from this infirmary to the front room on the same floor,
we find
MORE   PAINT.
Here the bodies of new carriages are painted. The
room is redolent of turpentine and varnish. Adjoining
this on the west is a room the walls of which are covered
with varnished paper, and the door of which is kept almost
constantly locked. In this mysterious paradise of neat-
ness—which, however, is not at all similar in odor to a
paradise of flowers—the coach bodies are given their finish-
ing coat of varnish. The divinity of the place did not
happen to be varnishing at the time, and so kindly opened
the door and suffered us to enter his sacred and odoriferous
precincts. Even the remarkable cleanliness of the place
could not reconcile us to more than a very brief stay, and
we hastened on to admire other beauties.
EIGHTEEN   COATS   OF   PAINT   AND  VARNISH
are necessary to produce the brilliant color and polish for
which the Rogers carriages are noted. The fourth floor
front is a storeroom for bodies which have been ironed
and await trimming. Passing up out of this we were con-
ducted over a portion of roof, which is made to do duty as
a drying yard, and was covered with a number of running
gears freshly painted.
From the rear end of this roof we entered the fifth
story, back, which is used as a paint-shop for the running-
gears of new carriages. Adjoining this are more varnish-
rooms.    On the same floor is the
FINISHING-ROOM,
in-which all the parts are collected and fitted together pre-
vious to being lowered into the warerooms for delivery to
customers.
These warerooms, which we have already mentioned,
absorb a large portion of the first and second stories, front-
ing on Chestnut street, and are constantly full of coaches,
carriages, buggies, phaetons, drags, and light wagons of
every known style and description, except clumsy and in-
ferior ones. But we need not waste words in describing
the contents of these attractive rooms. There is probably
not a Philadelphian who ever promenaded that portion of
Chestnut street without turning to admire the beautiful
carriages which stand tantalizingly near the front.
HOW   IT   WAS   DONE.
The secret of Mr. Rogers' success may be summed up
in a very few words. In the first place, he was perfectly
familiar with the practical requirements of the business.
He knew that the qualities requisite in all stylish vehicles
are lightness and beauty of form and finish, combined with
the greatest amount of strength and durability possible.
Mr. Rogers studied to accomplish this desirable combina-
tion, and with what success the fame of his work attests.
This high degree of perfection, however, is only attained
by using the very best, and consequently the most expen-
sive, materials, and by giving his personal supervision con-
stantly to all departments of his great establishment.
CONSTRUCTION OF  CARRIAGE DOORS.
BY P. B. J.
There is one very great mechanical imperfection
attending the construction of carriage-doors, at the point
where the lock-pillar meets the body, caused by lack of
proper knowledge on the part of the body-maker, in giving
to those parts the proper bevel. The result of this mis-
take has frequently been observed by practical workmen,
and the mass of consumers generally. Often before the car-
riage leaves the factory it is found that the doors cramp,
being with difficulty closed, owing to the inside edge of
the lock-pillar coming in contact with the outer edge of
the rabbet-pillar, or the one against which it closes, and
many a foreman has committed the (not unpardonable)
sin of " words both loud and deep," on being compelled
to take his door plane, and chip off the inside edge of
the lock-pillar, after the carriage is completed. To ob-
viate all this perplexity we give a simple rule. We
are quite sure that many of your readers will thank us for
the information.
Take a pair of large dividers and place one point on
line A at B, and the other touching line C wh re D
crosses it, and make a circular line E. This line shows
us the circle a door will make, no matter what its width.
Iherofore, where line E crosses line D we see what bevel
the lock-pillar and the rabbet-pillar should have, which
can be obtained from the inside edge of cant-board F.
By this system we take a certain portion of wood off of
the inside of the lock-pillar, and an equal proportion off
the outside of the rabbet-pillar, and thus both receive the
required bevel, according to the width of the door and in
harmony with the rotary motion thereof.
1870.
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
39
WHEEL-MAKING.
The proper selection of timber is a very important con-
sideration in the making of wheels.    The hubs should be
examined carefully, and such ones selected as present the
most even grains and as nearly alike as possible.    Many
hubs can be found in the market which are hard and glossy
on one side while the other side is soft and brittle. Then,
too, very often there are dark streaks passing along around
the hub between the grains, these cannot be detected in
the log, but they may be after they are turned.    If they
are found outside of the end bands, the hub should be re-
jected, as the grains are very apt to open at these places.
Hubs should never be turned out of the green log, they
should first be blocked out and bored, and then allowed
to season.    As soon as possible after turning they should
be mortised and placed in a good loft to dry.    The mor-
tise should never be made the full size required, as the
seasoning of the hub or the springing of the chisel, when
mortised, will render it necessary for the mortise to be
trued before the spoke  is   driven  into it.    With some
wheel-makers the idea  of a machine-made  mortise not
being true is considered the height of ignorance or folly.
And it does seem inconsistent to suppose that a well-con-
structed machine should not make each mortise alike, and
they may do so, but our experience has been that every
mortise in a hub that was allowed to season after the
mortises were made needed more or less trueiug before
the spoke could be properly driven.   We are disposed to
attribute this in great part to the shrinkage of the timber.
For all light   hubs select good white elm; the red elm
is much used, but it answers better in large than small
hubs.    Locust hubs are the next best, they are, however,
too hard to hold the spoke well, but when wheels are sold
without painting they look very attractive.    Oak should
never be used tor a hub that is less than eight inches in
diameter; for this size and upward they are serviceable
and are generally better liked than other kinds.    They
require much care in driving as they will split more read-
ily than the white or red elm.—Harness Journal.
" STICK SEATS."
As " stick seats " are coming in vogue again, perhaps
it will not be improper to revive an old rule, which, though
old, has stood the test and proven itself equal, if not
superior, to some more modern plans.
First, draw a half circle A A any given size, after
which draw base line B, and then the square line C; then
set your bevel to any angle you desire to give the mortise
in your seat-frame, and draw line DD from the center
of base line 13, after which draw line E from the points
where DD tonches the circle AA; then draw line F.
Next take your compasses and let one point rest on line
C where it meets circle AA, and set them so that they
will be just one-half the distance between the line E. and
circle AA on line C. With your ^compasses thus set,
place one point on circle AA, where line F and D in-
tersect, letting the other point rest on line F, which shows
you the exact location of line G. You will next let one
point of the compasses rest on circle line AA where C
intersects it. and the other on line F, and prick off three
spaces, 1, 2, 3, and the point of the third space gives you
the location of line H, after which you are ready to apply
your rule to the work. Remembering that line D is to
lay out the mortises in the seat-frame by, line G to cut
the shoulder on the corner-pillars, and line H gives you
the bevel to dress your corner pillar, line I of 45 degrees
constitutes a square mitre. The above is the most com-
plete system for framing " stick seats" we have ever
seen, and every body-maker will be benefited by adopt-
ing it, especially those who have been working on the old
" try and fit" plan.                                        P. B. J.
WHY TIMBER IS PAINTED.
When water is applied to the smooth surface of timber,
a thin layer of the wood will be raised above its natural
position by the expansion or swelling of the particles near
the surface. In colloquial phrase, workmen say that
when water is applied to a smooth board, the grain of the
timber will be raised. Every successive wetting will raise
the grain more and more; and the water will dissolve and
wash away the soluble portions with which it comes in
contact. As the surface dries, the grain of the timber at
the surface, having been reduced in bulk, must necessarily
shrink to such an extent as to produce cracks. Now, if a
piece of oil-cloth be pasted over the surface, the timber
will be kept quite dry. Consequently, the grain of the
wood will not be subjected to the alternate influences of
wet and heat. As it is not practicable to apply oil-cloth
ready made, a liquid or semi liquid material is employed
for covering the surface, which will adhere firmly and
serve the purpose of oil-cloth in excluding water that
would otherwise enter, to the injury of the work. Metal-
lic substances are painted to prevent oxidation or rusting
of the surfaces which may be exposed to moisture.
It is of primary importance to make use of such mate-
rials as will form over the surface a smooth and tenacious
pellicle, impervious to water. Any material that will not
exclude water sufficiently to prevent the expansion of the
grain of the timber, or the oxidation of metallic sub
stances, must be comparatively worthless for paint. Lin-
seed oil possesses the property of drying when spread on
a surface, and forming a tenacious covering, impervious
to water. Spirits of turpentine, benzine, benzole, and cer-
tain kinds of lubricating oil, all of which are frequently
used in preparing pa nt, will not form a covering suffi
ciently tough and hard to resist the action of water; for
which reason, the paint that is made by employing these
volatile materials will be found^ comparatively worthless
for outside work. A pigment is mingled with the oil to
prevent the timber to which the paint is applied from ab-
sorbing the oil. The design is not to saturate the wood
with oil, but simply to cover the surface with a coating
resembling a thin oil-cloth.—Manufacturer and Builder.
40
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
August,
THE PAINTER'S SECRET.
In the days of old, in the days when painters lived to
paint—not painted to live—when they were the mission-
aries of art, not the tradesmen; sacrificing for its sake
fortune, friends, country ; braving for its sake the curse
of parents, the tyranny of despots—in such days, Dom-
enico, a pupil of Van Eyck, opened a school of painting
in one of the large towns of Italy.
Despite the arduous efforts of other teachers to excel
him and to induce the patronage of the wealthy and noble,
Domenico had gathered under his tutelage representatives
of some of the noblest families in the dominion.
Though deficient in truth, originality, and simplicity of
the thought that characterized the earlier masters, yet the
secret of giving permanency and durability to his color-
ing had raised him far above all his cotemporaries. He
alone knew that mixing oils with his colors fixed them
upon canvas, and preserved them for posterity, while
those of every other painter, from their want of consist-
ency, either fell off in drops while wet, or in scales when
dry.    Consequently he was the painter most in vogue.
This secret Domenico had learned from his master,
Van Eyck, who had bequeathed it to him on his death-
bed ; and he had resolved to do the same for his young
and brilliant pupil, Castano, when called away from earth.
The young Castano possessed a wonderful strength and
freedom of pencil, and already he needed nothing but his
master's secret to surpass him as well as his fellow-pupils.
Often had he watched Domenico at work; often had he
supplicated him, fervently, and pledged to him the devotion
of his whole life if he would but impart to him the talisman.
"At my death," the inexorable master would say;
" and not till then."
One morning, when all Domenico's pupils were as-
sembled, and discussing, as was their wont, their master's
secret, Castano sat by himself in a corner of the painting-
room, buried in deep thought. It needs must be some
subject of deep and momentous import that could thus
absorb the whole man. His pencil had dropped from his
hand, and he heard not what was passing around him.
Castano's thoughts were of himself and all his comrades,
kept in obscurity, debarred from fame by the selfish re-
serve of one to whom they were, for the most part, supe
rior. With his secret, what far nobler service than he
would they be capable of rendering ! Would not any
means be lawful to wrest the secret from him and make
it their own ? Any means ! The motion of his hand, in-
stinctively feeling for his dagger, and the convulsive con-
traction of his brow, awoke him to the consciousness of
the full import of his meditation; and at that moment
Domenico entered the room, with the already dry design
of a new picture.
All the pupils gathered around him, Castano only ex-
cepted, who remained in his place motionless as a statue,
with his eyes fixed on the master, while every one else
was gazing on the picture.
" By the chin of St. Agatha ! " exclaimed Domenico," I
have surpassed myself! This rough draft is admirable
in its coloring. Look ! "you may rub your hand over it
—sponge it! See ! I pour water on it, I spit on it, and
it is only the more brilliant! Well, I was obliged to
wait a long time for Van Eyck to die, and you must be
patient, too. I have made my will, Castano, and there
you will find the secret."
Was it the force of the electric thrill through his whole
frame at these words, that impelled Castano forward till
he stood face to face with Domenico? He stood gazing
sternly, fixedly upon his master, as if he would penetrate
his utmost soul to drag thence the secret.
The next moment Castano was on his knees, with
clasped hands and suppliant tones, pouring out tears and
prayers, imploring him to have pity upon him and
upon the others"—nay, upon the art itself. He abjured
him to have mercy upon him ; not to press him too far;
not to deliver him over to the fatality that he felt hurry-
ing him along.
" Mercy !" again and again he cried, " mercy on these
men—on me—on yourself ! "
This tempest of passion was utterly unintelligible to
them all. The other pupils, who had been examining and
seeking the mysterious coloring with fingers, and eye,
and tongue, now gathered around him; while Domenico
stared at him, half-thinking he must have been seized
with a sudden fit of insanity. The next moment he cold-
ly repeated his unalterable determination never to reveal
his secret during his lifetime.
That very night, under murky clouds and a starless
sky, a man, wrapped in a dark mantle, made his way,
with the stealthy steps of a lover, in the direction of Dom-
enico's house, at the top of a long and narrow street.
The slowest-paced clock in the city had struck the hour of
twelve, but the man in the dark mantle was still waiting
and watching.
At length the figure of a second man was seen ap-
proaching from the oth^r end of the street. He was sing-
ing as he came along. It was too dark and too late not
to sing.
At the sound, the first comer hastened forward, then
stopped as the other drew nearer and' nearer. When
they were quite close to each other, the cloak was thrown
back, and something flashed from under its folds.
Suddenly a cry was heard—" Murder ! help ! help !"
Then came the sound of a body falling heavily. There
was a deep stillness for a few moments, and then was
heard the distant echo of footsteps in rapid flight.
The first cries of the victim having roused the inhabi-
tants of the street, a number of persons soon crowded
about him, and recognized in the mortally wounded man
their neighbor, the celebrated painter, Domenico. A sur-
geon was soon on the spot; but the painter, feeling that
he had received his death-stroke, refused to have his wounds
dressed. Ordering some one of his servants who had ar-
rived to hasten to his house and bring a small casket con-
taining his will and the unfinished picture, he insisted on
being carried to the house of his favorite pupil and only
friend—Castano.
(To be continued.)
 ustrations of tlje grafts.
FULL-SIZE   LANDAULET.
Illustrated in Plate IX.
These carriages, now quite popular with the aristocratic
portion of our citizens who frequent the drives of the Cen-
tral Park, make a superb vehicle for two passengers and
a good show on the road, especially with the circular front,
and upper portion  of the door removed.    Hung-off as
1870.
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
41
this is on combination springs, it makes an easy and com-
fortable riding carriage, seldom surpassed. Width of the
body (in the clear) measured between the hinge door-
posts, 50 inches; axl^s, 1 finches; wheels, 3 feet 4 inches
and 4 feet; hubs,4£ by 7 inches ; spokes, 1J inches; rims,
1£ inches deep ; tires, 1£ by f inches.
Painting.—The body, English patent black; the car-
riage-part, crimson-lake, gilt stripe.
Trimming.—Brown satin.
Workman's price for making body, $150 ; for making
under carriage, 822; manufacturer's charge for the finished
carriage, $1,600.
New York Charges for Repairs.— Wood-work:
Hub, $5; new spoke, $1; rimming wheels, $20; half-
rim, $2.75 ; drafting wheels, $1; furchel bed, $10 ; bols-
ter, $8; back spring-bar, $9 ; horn-bars, $8; fifth-wheel
bed,-$2.50 ; splinter-bar $3 ; pole, $10. Iron-work: New
iron tires and bolts, $38 ; resetting tires, $8; tire-bolts, 25
cents; carriage-bolts, 30 cts.; resetting axles, $10. Paint-
ing : Burning off old paint and repainting, $175. Plating:
capping axl&nuts, $6; silver-bands, $6; door-handles, $8
to 110.
CABRIOLET CALECHE.
Illustrated on Plate X.
We are favored with this design for a Cabriolet Caleche
through the courtesy of Messrs. Brewster & Co., of Broome
street, New York. The simple mention of the firm with
whom it originated will be a sufficient recommendation
for the drawing, without any commendation from us.
Width of the body in the clear, 48 inches; axles, 1 inch,
large; wheels, 3 feet and 3 feet 10 inches high.
Workman's price for making body, $75; for under
carriage, $20 ; manufacturer's price, $1,200.
Prices for repairing about the same as for the full-size
Landaulet on Plate IX.
EXCELSIOR PARK PHAETON.
Illustrated on Plate XI.
This design originated with one of our own artists,
and is a capital thing either for a private family, the
watering-places, or for hacking purposes. It has a decided
advantage over the " chat-a-banc" class of carriages, in
which the passengers are obliged to sit sidewise, since
all may here sit facing to the front. The body is a very
plain one to build, and, therefore, requires no instruction
to the builder from us. Wheels the same height and about
as heavy as the last.    Price of the carriage, about $500.
COMPOUND   BUGGY.
Illustrated on Plate XII.
We call this a compound body because it is made up
of at least two others, and should it possess no great beauty
it certainly is a novelty.    The mechanic -will see that it
.Vol. XII.—6
is not difficult to build it, being nothing more nor less
than the old coal-box buggy, moulded off in a new fashion.
Price, $450.
ROAD   PHAETON.
Illustrated on Plate XII.
This drawing represents a road phaeton of very chaste
design, which we trust will meet the approval of our
readers. It is a very plain carriage to build, and will look
well when built and run on the road—an advantage not
always obtainable from following paper drawings. The
stick seats make the carriage look much lighter than when
close. For an open carriage, in fins weather, this vehicle
is well adapted. Width of the body about 45 inches, the
seats projecting over the sides 1£ inches at each end;
wheels, 3 feet 10 inches and 4 feet high; hubs, 3£ by 6£
inches ; spokes, 1 inch ; rims, 1 & inches ; steel tires, ¦§ by
1 inch.    Price of phaeton, $525.
New York Charges for Repairing.— Wood-work :
Hub, $5 ; spoke, $1 ; running wheels, $18 ; drafting, $1 ;
axle-beds, each, $4; perch, $5 ; head-block, $3; spring
and shaft-bars, each, $2 ; shaft, $4 ; pole, $9 ; yoke, $7.50;
fifth-wheel bed, $2.50. Iron-work: New tires and bolts,
$20; tire-bolts, 25 cents each; carriage-bolts, each, 30
cents; an elliptic spring, $16; new fifth wheel, $5; re-
setting an axle, $6. Painting : Touching up and varnish-
ing, $45. Irimming : Leathering shafts, $6 ; re-covering
dash, $10; new apron-(rubber), $10; whip-socket and
fixtures, $3.
'ctrhs from
BESSEMER   STEEL.
The question of steel versus iron is one of vital im-
portance to the coach-maker; and we have taken much
care in preparing the following article, which compares in
detail the qualities of the Bessemer steel with those of
iron. Steel tires have already become the standard illus-
trating the value of this metal over the old iron tire, and
we believe the time is not far distant when steel will be
used for every purpose in coach-making where iron is now
employed.
The pneumatic or Bessemer process of making iron
and steel consists in forcing into a mass of molten pig-
iron, contained in a suitable vessel called a converter,
streams of air under a high pressure, and, by the com-
bination thus effected between the oxygen of the air and
the carbon in the iron, decarburizing the metal entirely,
and then in adding to the metal under treatment, after it
has been entirely decarburized by the blast of air, a cer-
tain percentage of a triple compound of iron, carbon and
manganese, which is found as an article of commerce in
the Spiegeleisen of Germany, and the Franklinite pig-iron
of this country. And by varying the quantity of this
compound, which is to be added in accordance with the
percentage of carbon which is known to be contained
42
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
August,
therein, any required degree of carburization can be given
to the metal under treatment, while the manganese in the
compound, acting as a detergent or cleansing material,
removes or neutralizes the oxides, sulphurets and phos-
phurets existing in the metal, which would otherwise ren-
der the product red-short or cold-short and useless. The
conversion of the molten metal by this process is a very
rapid one, 30 minutes being the longest time required for
converting ten tons of the grayest pig into steel or soft
iron, ready to be cast into ingots or masses of any desired
form. The average duration of the blowing operation is"
from fifteen to twenty minutes. The present practice is
to provide an engine large enough to take in from 1,000
to 1,200 cubic feet of air per minute, per ton of iron in-
tended to be treated, the pressure to which it is condensed
before delivery varying from 12 to 20 pounds per square
inch. The pneumatic or Bessemer process, thus briefly
described, is one of the simplest, perhaps the very sim-
plest, in metallurgy. For, although the apparatus re-
quired for its successful conduct is somewhat complex, it
is not difficult, and the skill and experience needed to
produce it with ease arid certainty may be acquired in
much less time than to puddle iron well. The apparatus
for manufacturing under this process consists of a blow-
ing-engine for compressing air and forcing it through the
molten metal, a cupola-furnace for melting the pig-iron,
another small one for melting the Spiegeleisen, Franklinite
or other carburizing and purifying material, and a pair of
converting-vessels into which the pig-metal is run. The
magnitude of the apparatus is governed by the amount of
business to be done, and the size and character of the
castings it is desired to produce. The blowing-engine is
the most important as well as the most expensive portion
of the apparatus. It must be large enough to treat the
greatest quantity of iron it is intended to convert at one
operation. The cranes and the apparatus for tipping the
converters are operated by hydraulic power, communi-
cated by a suitable force-pump, working at a compara-
tively low pressure. Production by this process is very
rapid, and from four to six conversions can be conducted
each " turn" of ten hours with each pair of converters.
A five-ton apparatus will produce from 20 to 30 tons of
ingots of iron or.steel every " turn " of ten hours for each
pair of converters employed. The practical value, and
peculiar characteristics of the Bessemer metal are best
shown in the great variety of applications which have been
made of it to uses requiring the best maferial obtainable.
But in order to give the clearest idea of the qualities of
this product, as well as to answer the most common
questions asked concernjng it, we will consider the steel
with reference to the following leading peculiarities of the
metals with which it has to compete : Its purity.—From
the nature of the process (the impurities in the iron
treated being thoroughly oxydized by the streams of air,
and expelled as gases, or thrown off as slags, by the vio-
lent eruptions produced by the chemical and mechanical
action of the blast on the charge), the product, as left
from the conversion, is purer than similar metal refined by
any other method. Its homogeneity.—The pneumatic or
Bessemer metal being maintained in a fluid state through-
out its conversion from the pig iron, is cast at once into
perfectly sound and homogeneous ingots or masses of any
desired size ; whereas wrought iron, whether made by the
bloomery or puddling processes, being only an aggrega-
tion of the granules of metal which are developed in said
processes, cannot be produced thereby in large masses,
but the comparatively small and imperfect blooms or bars
so produced, must afterward be welded together for forg-
ings of even moderate size; a treatment which, even
under the most favorable circumstances, and with the
best skill and care, fails to give perfectly sound and
homogeneous products. Fiber is never shown by this
metal in any stage of its manufacture. Indeed, a pure
metal cannot be fibrous ; and the old dogma that fiber is
a necessary concomitant to strength and toughness has
long ago been shown to be an error. The absence of this
quality from this metal renders it peculiarly fit for many
products. Its hardness, as has been already stated, may
be of all the various degrees between a thoroughly decar-
burized, soft and weldable iron, and a well-carburized
steel; but this metal never, while untempered, manifests
the peculiar brittle hardness of the high grades of crucible
steel. It is compact, firm and uniform, possessing, when
most fully carburized, enough of the hardness of the or-
dinary cast-steel to meet many of the practical needs in
that respect, and yet with other qualities which render it
applicable where a metal simply hard would not answer.
Rails made from this product have been proven to be
more than twenty times as durable as the best quality of
iron rails, and tires of the same material last very much
longer than the most celebrated makes of iron tires.
Toughness is one of the most prominent characteristics of
this product, and no iron or steel made by other modes
can be compared with it in this respect. It is this quality,
combined with its moderate hardness, great strength and
stiffness, which makes the Bessemer steel so suitable for
use upon railroads. The idea entertained by many per-
sons that exposure to a low temperature will cause the
metal to become brittle, is unfounded. In fact, it has
been well settled, by experience on Russian railways, that
mild-tempered steel, such as is generally used for axles
and tires, is not so liable to be altered in its molecular
arrangement by frost, or by jarring wear, as are the best
brands of fibrous iron. The strength and tenacity of
Bessemer metal varies, of course, with its character. The
metal is strongest in the most highly carburized condition
in which it is malleable, and its strength decreases gradu-
ally as the percentage of carbon is lessened. Tests of
this product made at the Woolwich Arsenal, in England
gave the unhammere^d ingots a range of tenacity from
41,412 lbs. per square inch for the average of the iron,
to 60,031 lbs. for the average of the steel ingots tested.
While tests of the hammered and rolled products gave
an average of 72,643 lbs. as the strength of the soft
iron, and 153,677 lbs. as the strength of the hard
steel bars per square inch of section ; and any
grade of metal between these limits may be produced
by this process. The ductility and malleability of this
product are, like its toughness, very great; and combined
with its toughness and tenacity, they render the metal
superior to all others for crooked and difficult forgings.
The pneumatic or Bessemer product may be subjected to any
mode of treatment or working to which malleable iron or
steel made by other methods is commonly exposed, as it can
be made to possess all the good qualities of both of those
metals without having the imperfections of either. The
welding of this metal, either to itself or to ordinary iron,
can, even when the metal is well carburized, be effected
readily, with reasonable care on the part of the workmen.
The articles noV most generally made from the metal pro-
1870.
THE   NEW    YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
43
duced by the Bessemer process are rails (of which more
than 100,000 tons are now annually rolled in Europe),
axles, tires, boiler and ship-plates, anchors, shafting,
beams, girders, gun and rifle-barrels, forgings for locomo-
tives, stationary and marine-engines, machinery of all
kinds, and other products which require to be made of
first-class material. In England, and on the Continent,
the value of this metal for general use is now so well
understood and appreciated that the production of the
works there for the current year will amount to nearly
700,000 tons—a very rapid development, it must be con-
ceded, of a manufacture which can hardly be said to have
come into existence till the year 1860. The discoveries
and improvements of Messrs. Bessemer seem to have
sealed the fate of the Catalan forges, bloomeries, refineries
and the ever-troublesome puddling process, by which ores
or pig irons have so long been advanced toward the fin-
ished product, for these improvements enable us to make
a better product at the same or a less cost. In conclusion,
it may be broadly stated that the metal is rapidly making
its way into every department of the mechanical arts,
including carriage-making, where, for all the nicest class
of work, it has already displaced wrought-iron and cruci-
ble steel for most purposes; and when its advantages are
understood, we believe that the revolution in ii'on will be
complete, and in place of the iron age will be inaugurated
the age of steel.
NEW KING-BOLT.
Many objections exist against the old-style king-bolt,
one of which is that the head which is let into the head-
block cuts away too much of the wood, and in time be-
gins to wear away the wood and rattle, completely cutting
off the perch, where the clip king-bolt is not used. I will
explain a simple, yet excellent, mode of obviating the
objections to the old-fashioned bolt, which the diagram
will explain in full. Let the king-bolt be made taper-
ing from the center both ways, with thread and nut on
both ends, passing directly through the head-block, axle,
and spring.    It is best to work a collar on the plate of
perch and axle-plate on all jobs.
Keep.
Uaint ^j
BRONZE COLORS.
Many attempts have been made to utilize mica and trans-
form it into bronze color, and at last these experiments
have been successful. Mr. Schwartze in London, Mr.
Tiller in Vienna and Mr. Rotter in Am berg, Bavaria,
already manufacture such a product in large quantities.
Consequently a new field "has been opened for employing
mica.
To this end the mica is ground in a crushing machine,
pulverized by help of a mill, boiled in humiatic acid,
freed from what acid might cling to it, and at last assorted
according to its coarseness by help of a strainer.. The
scales of the mica, thus prepared and classified into four
sorts, according to their size, have in commerce various
names, as brocatel, crystalline colors, bronze of mica, etc.
These bronzes of mica possess many advantages. They
contain no substance injurious to health. They have a
metallic luster like the bronzes of metal, and oftentimes
even surpass these in beauty of color. They are brown,
black, blue, green, and even rose-colored; the latter of
which is not found among the metallic bronze-colors.
They are, furthermore, entirely proof against influence
from sulphurous gases, a quality which the metallic
bronzes lack. And as they resist very well the influence
qf light, and do not in the least change color, as the metal-
lic bronzes, even when exposed to damp air, they do not
require to be inclosed in expensive tin-boxes when ex-
ported. Their specific weight is very small, and as they
cover a large surface, they are exceedingly economical.
They are very generally applicable, not only to fancy
and household articles of metal, wood, glass, or plaster,
but also in many other cases; for instance, in the art of
painting, especially that of theatrical painting, in the art
of decoration, in the fabrication of artificial flowers, of
sealing-wax, and generally in all cases in which the metal-
lic bronze colors have hitherto been used. Trials, how-
ever, of impressing them upon cambric muslin have not
given a satisfactory result, because the scales of the mica
are not sufficiently fine.
Before these bronzes are applied, it is advisable to
cover the body with a ground-color resembling that of the
bronze chosen. Thus the silver bronze should have an
under-coat of white lead, the blue an under-coat of ultra-
marine, etc. If oil colors are used, it is necessary to
employ binders. Yet, as with the metallic bronzes, be-
fore the application of the bronzes the coat must be dry
enough in order to cease to be sticky. Bodies treated in
this way obtain, especially after being varnished, a luster
the beauty of which has   never   been   surpassed.
The bronzes are manufactured with the following
colors :
1.  Rose.—The coloring matter is produced by a decoc-
tion   of   cochineal.    This   color is   entirely   soluble   in
hot  water,  in which case  the mica will  be discolored.
The colored  solution becomes blue, when ammonia and
hydrochloric acid are added.
2.   Crimson.—The color dissolves almost entirely in
water.    It is destroyed by adding ammonia, and becomes
yellow by adding hydrochloric acid.    A portion of the
coloring matter dissolves in alcohol, which it colors red
with a bluish tint.
3.  Deep red.—Showing  the scales brown-red.    Hot
water dissolves a part of this, and the remainder is left
brown. Alcohol dissolves a brown-reddish matter, which,
when   ammonia is added, becomes reddish-yellow,   and
when   hydrochloric acid   is   added,   citron-yellow.    The
coloring matter is the Fluvana-brown.
4.   Violet.—Water dissolves but a small portion of
the coloring matter ; water mixed  with acetic acid  dis-
solves it entirely.    Ammonia discolors it.   Hydrochloric
acid colors the solution greenish.    The coloring matter is
the Flossmann green.
5.  Bright blue.—The coloring matter dissolves neither
in pure water, nor in acidulated water, nor in alcohol; it
only dissolves in oxalic acid.    Other effects are produced
according to the way in which the Berlin blue is em-
ployed.
44
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
August,
6.  Deep blue.—Only a small portion of the coloring
matter dissolves in pure water; a little larger portion dis-
solves   in   acidulated water, which it colors   red-violet,
The solution  becomes entirely discolored by ammonia,
and colored blue by hydrochloric acid.    The scales of the
mica remain blue and lose the rest of their color in alco-
hol ; ammonia colors this solution violet, afterward red,
and at last reddish; hydrochloric acid colors it greenish.
The coloring matter seems to be an aniline blue.
7.  Bright Green, and 8. Deep Green.—The coloring
matter of 'these two bronzes does not dissolve in water,
but in alcohol, and shows its effects by a mixture of ani-
line-blue and turmeric.    If an alcoholic solution of the
matter is prepared and some ammonia added, a brown-
red residue is obtained, indicating turmeric.
9.  Blue violet.—The coloring matter dissolves but little
.in water, not at all in alcohol, but entirely in hydrochloric
acid which it colors violet-red.    The coloring matter is
mixed with the scales of the mica as with a fine powder.
10.   Clear blue.—The coloring matter  does not dis-
solve in water, nor in alcohol, acids, concentrated alkalies,
or concentrated nitric acid.    A microscopic examination
proves the mica to be mixed with small quantities of pul-
verized indigo.
11.   Gold color.—The coloring matter is but a little
soluble in water, somewhat more in alcohol,  indicating
turmeric.
12.  Silver color.—Pure mica without any color added.
13.  Deep  brown.—The   matter   dissolves   better   in
water than in alcohol.   A solution with hydrochloric acid,
sulphate of iron, and acetate of lead gives a residue which
proves the. use of a decoction of bark.
14.  Black.—The   coloring  matter  of   logwood   dis-
solves in water and alcohol, which becomes yellow, and is
used for shadowing. The mica remains deep blue colored,
and retains a lake, which, when  decomposed by oxalic
acid, presents characteristics of litmus.
FLAT PENCILS.
^To make a flat pencil for fine striping, split a piece of
wood at the end, insert a layer of sable hairs, very thin
and about a quarter of an inch wide, and bind with waxed
thread. Use on the edge. These pencils are employed
by many of the best painters for fine striping, and are
decidedly the most serviceable for this purpose. They
carry more color than the ordinary pencil, and allow of
greater rapidity of work. An experienced painter can
stripe quite a number of spokes, or even go clear around
the felloe of a wheel, without replenishing the pencil with
color.
MONOGRAMS.
Monograms are of very old date. As far back as we
know of letters, we know of monograms too. They are
found on Greek coins from the sixth century before Christ,
and we know that the Scandinavian people used them
even at an earlier time. Their pedigree is thus of hon-
orable length, but perhaps its age is more noticeable than
its blood, for there does not appear to be much glory in
the history of monograms.    It may come in the future.
As to their origin it was very simple. When a name
or a sentence w;is to be put down on a very small space,
as for instance  on coins and  seals, it was common and
Dr. A. C. H.
very natural to reduce it by abbreviations to two, three, or
four letters, and then interlace these letters with each
other till they made a single character, small of size and
easy to recognize, but dif-
ficult to understand, and
therefore difficult to coun-
terfeit. And thus, on the
paternal side, monograms
have, no doubt, originated
as a sort of economy, a
very respectable origin,
indeed, but not very no-
ble.
With the Scandina-
vians, however, mono-
grams do not seem to
have been used in this
way. They were with
them rather a trick.
When one had to send a
message and dared not trust the bearer, he wrapped his
news in a Cloud of very obscure words, and put these on a
wooden plate in a- series of intricate monograms which
only very apt people were able to decipher. Thus, his
letter, though open to all the world, was covered with a
double envelope, and its monograms were often its best
safeguard. Sometimes monograms assumed to play the
part of witchcraft. It was a common belief with the
Scandinavian that certain characters when engraved on
the sword-blade would make it cut through stones, or
when taken in the mouth make the man invisible, or
when thrown to the feet of a young girl make her love the
swain who had done it, and in this way they are still used
to some extent throughout Europe. Toothache, gout and
other devils are still driven out of the peasants by help of
mystical monograms written in the air or on the bed by
the witch. On the maternal side, therefore, monograms
have something romantic in their origin, though this ro-
mance seems to have an inclination towards the fabulous.
Since the origin of monograms they have been in
particular vogue at two times ; first, during the first period
of the Christian Church, under the emperor Constantine
the Great (325), and, secondly, during the first period of
the middle ages under the emperor Charles the Great
(811), but each time to a very different purpose.
The monograms of the time
of Constantine were symbols.
People were not satisfied that
the initials of their names were
nicely interwoven to make one
symmetrical character. They
required that this character
should symbolically indicate
some high and valuable idea
characteristic of their own life,
or at least of their ambition,
and the cipher was thus formed
as a cross or an anchor or a
heart. All know, for instance,
Dr. J. Q. A.            the monograms of Christ's name
with which Constantine stamped his coinage. It was used
until the time of Theodorus Lascaris. This passion for
symbols, in which the monogram originated, was neither
a whim nor a fancy, but a deep and true feeling, and it
soon found a material richer and more suited to its pur-
1870.
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
45
poses than the poor monograms. These had to yield to
their younger and more splendid cousins—the nobleman's
coats of arms—and thus the former disappeared in utter
darkness for some four hundred years.
Next we meet them at the court of Charles the Great.
To what did he use them? Well, he was a great man,
and knew very well how to do justice to every man and
everything. From Caesar to the French revolution the
world had received no political impulse greater than that
it received from him, and, besides his greatness, he was a
good man, of serene moods and refined domestic manners.
But he lacked one valuable accomplishment. He could
not write. Equihard tells us how patiently the old Kaiser
sat down to his tablet, trying and'trying again, but his
fingers, which could hold the scepter and the sword, could
not hold the pencil. He only learned to write one single
character, the monogram of his name. And as the Kaiser
did, so did the bishops. Le Blanc tells us that many of
the bishops of that time could not write, and neither could
the greater part of the knights or any of the lower classes.
There were no printers, no mails, no paper, no ink, and of
what use, then, could it be to learn writing1? It was
enough to learn to write one's own name below a docu-
ment, and in order to do that one learned to write it in a
monogram. Thus the monograms lived even to this very
day, as children of ignorance and substitutes for the diffi-
cult art of writing.
In our time they have received a new being in repub-
lican America. The wealthy man is pleased to have his
name painted in a splendid monogram on the doors of his
coach, and the lady likes to have hers embroidered on
the corner of her handherchief. It is, so to speak, a" re-
vival of monograms, and who knows what the issue will
be ? Perhaps it is a step in the direction of an ingenious
discovery.                                                         C. P.
CRESTS.
The ancient warriors wore crests to strike terror
among their enemies, at the sight of the spoils of animals
they had killed, or to give them the more formidable mien
by making them appear taller. In the ancient tour-
naments the cavaliers had plumes of feathers, especially
those of ostriches and herons, for their crests; these tufts,
which they called plumarts, were placed in tubes on the
tops of high caps or bonnets. Some had their crests of
leather, others of parchment, pasteboard, &c, painted or
varnished to become weather-proof; others of steel, wood,
&c, on which was sometimes represented a member or
ordinary of the coat, as an eagle, fleur de lis, &c, but
never any of those called honorable ordinances, as pale,
fesse, &c. The crests were to be changed at pleasure,
being reputed only as arbitrary devices of ornaments.
Herodotus attributes the rise of crests to the Carians, who
first bore feathers on their casques and painted figures on
their bucklers, whence the Persians denominated them
cocks. The Etruscans were also famous for their crests,
and modern artists have given similar 'additions to the
helmets of the three Horatii. Golden crests were worn
by knights seeking the smiles of their fair ladies.
Copal Varnish was first discovered and compounded
in France, and was long known by the name of "vernis
martin."
CANARY YELLOW.
Canary Yellow comes in crystallized pieces, and is
of so very gritty a nature that great care must be exer-
cised in preparing it. It cannot be ground in oil nor in
the mill, but must be ground on the stone, and water is
added to help in cutting down. After being ground very
fine, the water is worked out as in the process above de-
scribed, or it may be spread on a sheet of glass and the
water evaporated, and oil is then added as with ordinary
colors, and it is applied in the same way.
dimming
TRIMMING OF  CARRIAGES.
Like pictures, the trimming of carriages is seldom be-
yond criticism. This may be from reason of execution
or of assortment of shades. A blue trimming is always
the easiest to arrange, because the shades of this color
vary but little, all the dyers using nearly the same color-
ing matter. Quite different it would be, if the coloring
matter were obtained by mixing several colors, as, for in-
stance, the shade of tobacco which is obtained by mixing
two, three, four and even five different colors : yellow,
orange, Van Dyke brown, ivory black and Japan. In the
latter case it would be very rare—for it would be the
effect of chance—if two dyers used the same matters in
exactly the same proportions. As the cloths, the reps,
and the moroccos are all colored by different makers,
there will consequently always be a more or less con-
spicuous difference in their shades, and this difference in
shade is always discordant. Studied and elaborate trim-
mings are in vogue in France at present, especially for
open carriages. The descriptions of them, which are
given by a French paper which we have before us, show
the style to be much more showy than is the style here.
Indeed, the present style of trimmings used in New York
is plain, even very plain, and we are glad to see it so, for
we consider it much more tasteful. We are thus enabled
to avoid those inany differences of shade which we have
mentioned above, and which are so distasteful oftentimes.
STYLES IN LONDON.
We learn that the most stylish broughams which have
lately been turned out in London are lined with black
satinet. The laces are rather plainer than the fashion has
been, and are stitched with a line of .gold-colored silk.
This quiet trimming is made to correspond with the paint-
ing, which is also very quiet—the body and carriage-
parts being black, the former having no fine lining and the
latter only a narrow picking out line of gold.
A rubber slide for coach doors has been contrived by
the English which is very convenient* It works thus :
An india-rubber roller is let on to the edge of the glass
frame, working freely on its center, and it is made suffi-
ciently large to produce a pressure within the grove,
whenever the glass frame slides up. It prevents rattling
and allows the door to be fixed at any elevation. Another
neat contrivance is facing the inner-surface of the door
style (where the glass frame runs up) with plate glass.
The style behind the glass is painted in the usual manner;
and thus protected, it always presents the appearance of
newness.
46
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S    MAGAZINE.
August,
(fbitor's
HOW TO ACQUIRE TASTE.
The valuable paper which follows has been written
for us by a "magister artium" of the University of Copen-
hagen, and in giving it to our readers we trust they will ap-
preciate its importance, as bearing directly on the elevation
of coach-building to that high point where it belongs. We
hope they will study it carefully. The writer deals with
coach-building as an art, and applies the same principles
as he would to the latter. He urges that taste is a most im-
portant characteristic of the successful builder of the best
coaches. Such is most surely the fact, and taste in the
coach-maker becomes more and more indispensable as the
art of coach-building advances and improves, and the taste
of the public becomes educated and refined. We feel that
no coach-builder can read this article without feeling that
his labor admits and demands taste, and that it is for his
best interests to apply his appreciation of taste to all that
he works upon.
HOW   TO   ACQUIRE   TASTE.
Shall the carriage wheels be large or of small di-
ameter? Shall they have broad or narrow tires? Shall
the body of a coach be hung on a level, as generally done
now, or the front half an inch higher than the buck, to
make a more comfortable seat, or with the back half an
inch higher than the front, to give the vehicle an easier
speed? All of these are questions of utility, not of taste,
and they are to be answered according to the dictations of
usefulness, without the slightest regard to fancy, but
after all problems of utility are solved, and a carriage of
thorough usefulness planned, taste ought to be the guide of
the workman in applying them. Utility directs what is to be
done, but taste should direct how to do it. For most any
thing can be done in a thousand different ways, but no
two ways of doing things are equally good, to have the
power of choosing the best, is to have taste.
Taste relates only to appearance. People,' therefore,
who know that it is more to be than to seem, and who have
experienced that appearance is often nothing but show, are
not likely to think much of taste, nor to care much about
acquiring it. But it would not be difficult to prove, that
the appearance has an important influence upon the thing
itself; and, consequently, taste is essential. But there is no
need of a philosophical demonstration. The man who
sells will soon learn by his pocket that a good appear-
ance is half the market value of every selling thing, not
only of luxuries, but even of substantials, and he will learn,
at the same time and of the same instructor, to appreciate
the value of that mental acquirement which enables a man's
workmanship to be not only good, but good-looking.
With coach-making, taste   consists in arranging the
outlines to please the eye and call forth from the mind
only pleasant ideas—for instance, ideas of ease, comfort,
elegance, lightness, speed, &c. As the body and the parts
of a carriage comprise a large number and variety of very
different lines, circles of different diameters, curves of
different bendings, straight lines cutting each other at dif-
ferent angles, &c, it is a matter of taste, and a difficult one,
to combine all these different lines into a harmonious whole.
There are lines which must look as if they were running
on infinitely, only melting away little by little into other
lines. If intersected roughly, or in any way broken, the
effect is disagreeable. • Other lines require to be cut di-
rectly, and if not so cut, they lose strength and distinct-
ness, look clumsy, and produce strange and unpleasant
ideas. Thus, every kind of lines must be treated according
to its nature. The difficulty of combining two lines, one
of which requires to be cut sharply, while the other re-
quires to be absorbed gradually, has been felt by every
coach-maker, in planning a proper connection between the
coach-box and the coach-body. How often does the coupe
look like a dungeon-cell, or the landau like a goose-nest,
and the phaeton like a plate presenting young ladies as if
they were visiting-cards, and thus, because the outlines of
the carriage are without taste. On the contrary, many a
heavy vehicle looks light and elegant, because the coach-
maker has understood how to life and vivify the mass of
its body and gears with fine and graceful lines.
The question now arises, how is this useful and al-
most indispensable science, which we call taste, to be ac-
quired ? If taste were really a science, the school would
have to teach it; but it is not a science. It is partly a
natural gift and partly a mental acquirement. It is a
faculty born with us and growing almost unconsciously
during the whole education. The school can do but little
to give it. Taste must be earned. What the school and
the public can do towards cultivating it is, first, to carefully
avoid propagating a false taste, and, second, to afford the
means by which true taste can grow. Drawing is gener-
ally considered as one of the best means to acquire
taste in respect to lines, and hence drawing has been made
a part of the mechanic's education. This is a good step.
There is, indeed, nothing else which makes a man under-
stand more easily the importance of lines and enables his
eye to discriminate so easily the nature and signification of
different lines. Drawing, therefore, ought to be a part of all
education. Besides educating the sight, drawing is valu-
able by enabling us to set forth our ideas on paper, to com-
municate them to others; but of itself it cannot furnish us
with ideas, nor can it give us any advice as to the forming
of proper ideas. The very best step towards becoming
quick and fertile in inventing lines which produce a lively,
graceful and expressive appearance—and this is what the
coach-maker aims at—is to study the two linear arts, as they
might be called, sculpture and architecture.    The coach-
1870.
THE   NEW   YORK   COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.
47
maker, therefore, who wishes to work not only with his
hands but with his head, should go often into the galleries
wher"e the best specimens of sculpture and drawings are
exhibited. In the Greek statue he will study the run-
ning and infinite lines, and in the Gothic dome the
broken ones, and in their most consummate applications,
and his imagination, if once impregnated with these
forms, will never degrade itself into expressing clumsy
or unpleasant forms. In the smallest work he devises
there will be an indescribable something which always
pleases and charms. He will make the heavy look light,
and the light look solid; and he will always work out
something graceful, although fulfilling the most singular
demands of his customers.
Sculpture and* architecture are, indeed, the school to
which the coach-maker must go in order to acquire the
most elevated taste. There is room in one article to
give but a slight idea of the various lessons which both
of these arts are able to give the mechanic. In the
present paper, therefore, we will speak of the influence
of- sculpture only.
First, there must be made a distinction. It is not
taste for sculpture which the coach-maker needs to seek
after when studying statues, but taste of lines. This dif-
ference may be made clear by example.
The three most eminent statues of Venus are the two
antiques, Venus from Milo and the Medicean Venus,
and the modern one by Thorwaldsen. These are three
great master-pieces.
Venus from Milo is Greek, and represents the time
when the Greek people stood highest, morally and men-
tally. She is the grandest ideal of true womanhood ever
conceived; soft as the wave, sweet as the sunlight, yet so
dignified and lofty as to abash most wooers. She is he-
roic. The Greeks considered it the utmost disgrace to
lose the shield in battle. A warrior who surrendered his
shield, surrendered himself a slave disdained by his
countrymen, while the slain hero who had fought bravely
was borne upon his shield to his grave amid songs of
praise. "Well, if this Grecian Venus had a son to send to
the battle, she would reach him the shield, and tell him
to come back " with it or upon it." The Medicean Venus
is Roman, and represents the time of the emperors, when
Nero burnt up half the city of Rome to see how such a
conflagration looked, and Heliogabalus harnessed eleven
thousand youns: ladies of Rome to draw his triumphal
chariot through the streets. She is still softer and
sweeter than Venus from Milo, but without dignity. She
still is the goddess of beauty and love, but she has
been harnessed to the triumphal chariot of the emperor's
lust. She has lost that shield behind which beauty and
love must be sheltered or upon which they have'to die ;
she has lost the purity of her mind.    She can  still be
loved, but she herself cannot love; she is coquettish.
Thorwaldsen's Venus represents our time. She is soft and
sweet and pure also, but she is no goddess. She is not
at all coquettish, but she is as little heroic. She is a mod-
ern woman, in spite of the ancient myth arrayed around
her. She meditates—and I do not know but some diffi-
cult words of the Bible about the reverence of the wife to
her husband or a speech of Miss Anthony about woman's
rights may be the subject of her meditation. At all
events, the apple she holds by her hand is not that which
Paris gave Venus on Ida; it is rather that one which Eve
reached Adam in the garden of Eden. To feel the eminent
beauty of these three statues, and understand the differ-
ence of their beauty ; to see the soul that unveils itself
through each of these three figures, and read the different
ideas which different ages have manifested in their
bosoms, is to have taste of sculpture. But this is of
no practical use to the coach-maker.
But let us examine these statues with another ob-
ject ; namely, to study their lines. Let us step around
one of them slowly, and with eyes fixed upon the
outlines, marking how they change. No line can be
pointed out as beginning or ending at any distinct point,
as can be done with the lines of a house. They are in-
finite, like the lines of a ring. Neither can any of them
be construed as a circle or oval or spiral, or suggesting
any geometrical or mechanical form. They are living.
Like a stream, they run through all possible curves.
This has a peculiar effect, and at last it will seem as if it
were not you moving but the lines of the figure which
begin to moVe and become living before your eyes.
When we are able to feel the effect of these lines, and
understand their meaning, we have acquired a taste for
lines, and if our imagination directs the head in drawing
a line, thereafter we will instinctively imitate them and
produce a similar effect. This faculty is of the utmost
importance to the coach-maker. Two carriages may be
made of the same materials, and with equal skill and at-
tention, and they may be equally heavy, yet one may be
made without any sense of the influence of lines, and
look as if it required four elephants to move it, while
the other has been made with consummate taste, and
looks as if it would run of itself. Which of these two
carriages is the best ?    And which will pay best 1
History proves by many instances the ennobling in-
fluence upon the mechanic of the study of sculpture.
Thorwaldsen was undoubtedly the greatest modern sculp-
tor. He was a Dane, and lived partly in Copenhagen,
partly in Rome. As he grew old he drew up his will,
and being a bachelor, he made the city of Copenhagen his
heir. After his death, the city raised a monument in
honor of him, and, from its sublime idea, it is grander
and more beautiful than any other in the world.    A large,
48
THE   NEW   YORK    COACH-MAKER'S   MAGAZINE.        August, 1870.
square building was raised over his grave as a mausoleum,
and in it were placed alf his works, from the smallest
sketch to the most elaborate bas-relief. Thus the very
thoughts and deeds of the man, the ideas born of his soul
and the works of his hands stand upon his grave to be
admired and to be imitated by the world. A crowd of peo-
ple throngs these halls whenever opened, and to visit
Thorwaldsen's Museum is, hi Copenhagen, a part of the la-
boring man's holiday. Many mechanical apprentices
go there and study. Since the opening of this museum,
the Danish house-furniture has taken the best prizes in
all the great world-expositions, and it is believed that the
taste thus displayed has been one of the direct results of
the educational influences of the museum. The study of
sculpture has power to educate the taste of the carriage-
maker in a similar manner.
COPAL OF ZANZIBAR.
Among the specimens of vegetation growing along the
coast of the bay of Dan-Salam, in the southern end of the
island of Zanzibar, is the Trachylobium mossambicense,
which the native inhabitants call M'ti-Sandaruski, or the
tree of copal. A resinous, translucent, hard and brittle
exudation is found on its trunk and principal branches.
The upper branches', too, exude a resin which, however, is
never found in a liquid state, from whence it may be justly
inferred that it concretes and hardens very soon after its
exudation. On account of its brittleness it cracks from
the branches by the least movement. Insects are often
found inclosed in such pieces, all of which present a
uniform surface, as if they were polished, but none of them
show that rough surface, called goose-flesh, which is char-
acteristic of all fossil gums found in the earth. This sort
is carried in large quantities to India, but as yet does not
reach Europe.
After satisfying himself that the Trachylobium was
the source of a sort of copal, Mr. M. T. Kirk, who has
made considerable investigation into this subject, has
admitted that the old copal of Zanzibar, well known in
Europe as a half-fossil resin, and commonly used in the
manufacture of varnishes, was likely to be a product of the
same tree.
There are three different sorts of copal of Zanzibar,
which the merchants distinguish by color, surface, general
appearance, and other indications, and which they further
subdivide. The first sort is called Sandaruski-M"1 ti, or
copal of tree, and the second Chakazzi, or copal found
in the earth, which, however, is similar to the first and of
the same value. The third sort, which is the true copal
Sandaruski, is, as the second, found in the earth, but it is
harder, less soluble, and commands more than double the
price. This last sort comprises the largest quantity of
Zanzibar copal, and often 400,000 kilogrammes, worth
1,500,000 frs., are exported during the year to Europe.
The Trachylobium mossambicense, which, as shown,
affords the first sort of copal of Zanzibar, the tree copal,
grows along the coast of Mozambique as far as Lamo,
from the 10th to the 15th degree of southern latitude. It
is very frequent between Delgado and Monbos, abound-
ing near the bays and the banks of the rivers, but it grows
rare at a short distance from the sea, and still further in-
land it disappears. The second sort, Chakazzi, is found
clinging to the roots of the copal-tree, and it is, as Mr.
Kirk has ascertained, really the same sort as the first, but
mixed with the third. It is found only in the neighbor-
hood of forests still living, where the third sort never is
found, and it is evidently a fresh resin which has fallen to
the ground a little after the decay of the mother-tree,
though still fresh enough to receive and preserve impres-
sions from sand, stones, or other hard bodies; but crafty
people understand how to mix these inferior resins from
the coast with those more valuable from the inner land.
The true copal is undoubtedly a product of forests
which have been destroyed; no living tree gives such a
product. It is only found in the woodless inner land,
where the native inhabitants dig the soil, when softened
by heavy rain-storms, searching after the resin, to sell it
to the foreign merchants. This fossil resin, when com-
pared with the fresh one, resembles it in its physical
character, but it affoc-ds no true evidence of being pro-
duced from the Trachylobium. The insects inclosed in it
are all winged insects, and the leaves which sometimes
are found inclosed in it together with the insects do not
seem to belong to the copal-tree. Yet, when it is remem-
bered that the resin hardens verv soon after exudatino-
and that it cracks from the branches just at the time when
leaves and flowers are in full vigor on their tops, it is
evident that leaves of the shrubbery growing below the
copal-tree are more likely to be found in the exudations
than those of the tree itself.
Such is the origin of the copal, which forms one of the
principal ingredients of coach varnish, and such 'are the
three principal classes into which Zanzibar copal is divided.
A RARE OPPORTUNITY.
The proprietor of an old established carriage business
in an important and growing city in Massachusetts is de-
sirous of retiring on account of age, and wishes to find an
enterprising man who is a draughtsman and body-maker,
with a little capital, to go on with the business.and take a
half interest in connection with his son, who is also a car
riag-emaker. As the party is an old and valued\ friend,
we are enabled to recommend this offer as a desirable
one, not often met with. All inquiries maybe addressed
the Editor of this Magazine, when particulars will be given.
Coach-Builders' Library.— We have prepared the
list of books relating to coach-building and its branches,
as heralded last month, but it is crowded out from the
present issue. We shall present it in the next number,
and meanwhile would be glad to receive further assistance
from our friends in extending the list.