in summer, and we buried him near the grave of his gentle mistress; and somehow I always feel easier about her being out in the long stormy nights in autumn and winter, lying there in the churchyard, since her brave guardian took his old place at her feet.

It was thus that Willis became the bachelor he now is. From the day that we stood together by the grave of Ellen Willis, a closer bond than ever before has held us together, and we have lived more and more for each other, and less and less for the world that surrounds

us.

Sometimes in the night, seated by our cabin fire, we talk of her; and we always speak low, and as gently as we can, for we know she hears us.

Sometimes

Willis turns restlessly on his bear-skin and speaks in his sleep. But his murmurs are indistinct, and yet I once heard him murmur as if she were talking to him.

When her father died he left his house to Joe, and divided his vast fortune between his wife and Lucy. But by some mismanagement Lucy's share was lost almost entirely, and Willis supplied it from his own full coffers. He lives now most of the time in the old hall, and I pass much of life with him.

Do not imagine that my friend is melancholy. That would not be consistent with his calm confidence in the present and future presence and love of the departed: a more cheerful, light-hearted man you will not find the world over. But to know him, you must come to his old place here on the bank of the river, and pass a day and a night with us. You may ride over the hills in the morning after breakfast, with Joe on one side of you, and myself on the other; and you may sit down at five to a dinner which we will make as merry as we can; and then we will adjourn to the library, and cosily around the grate discuss the pile of books which Anthony, the prince of family servants, has brought up from our publisher's; and at one or two o' the morning you may sleep quietly under a roof, beneath which once dwelt and slept an angel who will visit Willis to-night in

dreams.

PRACTICAL ILLUSTRATIONS IN

PHOTOGRAPHY.

THE COLLODION PROCESS.

THE plates of glass on which we are about to operate should be selected with regard to their flatness and freedom from scratches and bubbles, or specks, the ordinary patent plate being most suitable for our purpose. The edges of each square should be roughened by being ground on a plate of metal with sand, or by being held against a grind stone in revolution.

The process of obtaining a picture on the collodion film admits of being divided into six distinct operations, namely, 1st, cleaning the plate in order to free it from grease and other impurities; 2nd, spreading the film of collodion; 3rd, immersion of the plate in the bath, to render the film sensitive to light; 4th, development of the latent image; 5th, fixing the image thus brought out; 6th, varnishing the plate to protect the delicate film on which the picture is formed from injury.

1st. Cleaning the plate. This part of the process, from its extreme simplicity, is most likely to be neglected; and we therefore call particular attention to it, as on the manner impurities depends, to a very great extent, in which the glass plate is freed from greasy the beauty of the result. When the plates are used for the first time, it will be expedient to allow them to soak for an hour or so in a vessel containing perfectly clean water, in which has been dissolved a small quantity of common soda. The exact amount is of no consequence, the object being merely to free the plates from the soap that is usually to be found upon them when they come from the works, where they are sometimes marked with this greasy material. Being removed from this solution, abundance of water is allowed to flow over them, while being rubbed with the fingers. When it is found that the water flows over the surfaces of the plates in a perfectly even manner, they may be stood in racks to drain, and be wiped thoroughly dry with clean linen cloths, that have previously been cleansed of all adhering soap by being The operator well rinsed in clean water. must be careful not to touch the surface of the plates with the fingers, from the danger there exists of some foreign matter being transferred to the plate by this means. The plate being quite dry is to be finished by carefully polishing it with a perfectly new

vain speak in that low deep tone of fondness and of earnestness which, if aught can, will always prevail to wake a sleeper. He did not call aloud, for he seemed to fancy she was indeed only slumbering, and he might frighten her; so natural is it to imagine that the dead cannot be dead. She was marvellously beautiful as she lay there.

The windows were covered with the folds of gorgeous curtains, on which, through the shutter bars, stole the last beams of the setting sun, crimsoning the dim light in the dying girl's room, and shedding on her cheek a glow of exquisite beauty,

The fire in the broad grate was burning slowly, each coal covered with a coat of ashes; but the room was warm, and a fragrance of some aromatic drink filled it. In the south window, behind the curtain, stood her sister, a girl of sixteen, springing up into lovely womanhood. Poor Lucy! She was sobbing all to herself, and not a soul in the room knew that the curtain was so often shaken by the emotions of that young and almost breaking heart!

On one side of the bed sat her father, bending eagerly forward to catch every word she spoke. Oh, did we but listen thus all life long to the words of voices which we love, as we listen eagerly for every syllable when the voices grow fainter towards the hushing, how many mournings would we save!

On the bed sat her mother, with one hand holding the right hand of her daughter, with whom she was conversing. On the other side of the bed stood Willis. He was then but twenty-two years of age, about five feet ten inches high, and his broad, massive chest indicated his great strength. His face was not beautiful; but as you examined it, its striking mould won your admiration, until you could but do homage to the perfection of manliness which was in it. The forehead was heavy and broad, but very clear and white; and the eye under it reposed, as if content with such guard. But as you looked into that eye, you saw there all the life of a clear intellect, a quick but deliberate habit of thought, and unbounded affections.

Now he gazed with mournful earnestness into the eyes of Ellen Willis, and watched each thought through those windows of her soul. At length she turned to him and spoke. "I am dying. I shall not live an hour-call Lucy."

"You mistake, Ellen. The doctor says you will live till spring."

66

'No, no, Joe dear. I have that within me now which warns me that I must count time by seconds. It is strange, I can't explain it, but I feel that life is separating even now from this weak body. Oh, Joe, how well I have loved the earth! Sometimes I fancied that its flowers grew dim-coloured and were no longer fragrant, and the hills were not green, and the valleys did not smile, and I could then have died and left them all most willingly. But now I cling to the dear earth with all a mortal's fondness."

She paused; and they were weeping all of them: for the music of her voice was thrilling, and those tones, low, earnest, cheerful, surpassed all description of melody. So she spoke again, but now in lower tones, and somewhat broken. She murmured, "My eyes are dimming-I told you I was dying, Joe. Lift me in your arms."

He lifted her to his breast, and as she nestled her cheek in his bosom with a trusting smile, the spirit left the clay to repose in the love that it knew was eternal!

We buried her. She had asked to be laid in the north graveyard, by a sister who had died five years before. We carried her into the old church, and for awhile rested her coffin under the pulpit, while the choir sang a hymn of rest. It went up peacefully in the little church, but she heard it not; and as they sang the last verse I heard one voice in the choir grow tremulous, and then cease suddenly, and at length a low, suppressed sob called my attention, and I turned and saw one who had loved her since they prattled their first words together in the bright days of infancy.

Four years passed swiftly after this event, and Leo was our constant companion, the hero of a hundred days.

He died one pleasant Sunday morning

املات

in summer, and we buried him near the grave of his gentle mistress; and somehow I always feel easier about her being out in the long stormy nights in autumn and winter, lying there in the churchyard, since her brave guardian took his old place at her feet.

It was thus that Willis became the bachelor he now is. From the day that we stood together by the grave of Ellen Willis, a closer bond than ever before has held us together, and we have lived more and more for each other, and less and less for the world that surrounds

us.

Sometimes in the night, seated by our cabin fire, we talk of her; and we always speak low, and as gently as we can,

for we know she hears us.

Sometimes

Willis turns restlessly on his bear-skin and speaks in his sleep. But his murmurs are indistinct, and yet I once heard him murmur as if she were talking to him.

When her father died he left his house to Joe, and divided his vast fortune between his wife and Lucy. But by some mismanagement Lucy's share was lost almost entirely, and Willis supplied it from his own full coffers. He lives now most of the time in the old hall, and I pass much of life with him.

Do not imagine that my friend is melancholy. That would not be consistent with his calm confidence in the present and future presence and love of the departed: a more cheerful, light-hearted man you will not find the world over. But to know him, you must come to his old place here on the bank of the river, and pass a day and a night with us. You may ride over the hills in the morning after breakfast, with Joe on one side of you, and myself on the other; and you may sit down at five to a dinner which we will make as merry as we can; and then we will adjourn to the library, and cosily around the grate discuss the pile of books which Anthony, the prince of family servants, has brought up from our publisher's; and at one or two o' the morning you may sleep quietly under a roof, beneath which once dwelt and slept an angel who will visit Willis to-night in dreams.

PRACTICAL ILLUSTRATIONS IN

PHOTOGRAPHY.

THE COLLODION PROCESS.

THE plates of glass on which we are about to operate should be selected with regard to their flatness and freedom from scratches and bubbles, or specks, the ordinary patent plate being most suitable for our purpose. The edges of each square should be roughened by being ground on a plate of metal with sand, or by being held against a grind stone in revolution.

The process of obtaining a picture on the collodion film admits of being divided into six distinct operations, namely, 1st, cleaning the plate in order to free it from grease and other impurities; 2nd, spreading the plate in the bath, to render the film sensifilm of collodion; 3rd, immersion of the tive to light; 4th, development of the latent image; 5th, fixing the image thus brought out; 6th, varnishing the plate to protect the delicate film on which the picture is formed from injury.

1st. Cleaning the plate. This part of the process, from its extreme simplicity, is most likely to be neglected; and we therefore call particular attention to it, as on the manner impurities depends, to a very great extent, in which the glass plate is freed from greasy the beauty of the result. When the plates are used for the first time, it will be expedient to allow them to soak for an hour or so in a vessel containing perfectly clean water, in which has been dissolved a small quantity of common soda. The exact amount is of no consequence, the object being merely to free the plates from the soap that is usually to be found upon them when they come from the works, where they are sometimes marked with this greasy material. Being removed from this solution, abundance of water is allowed to flow over them, while being rubbed with the fingers. When it is found that the water flows over the surfaces of the plates in a perfectly even manner, they may be stood in racks to drain, and be wiped thoroughly dry with clean linen cloths, that have previously been cleansed of all adhering soap by being well rinsed in clean water.

The operator

must be careful not to touch the surface of

the plates with the fingers, from the danger there exists of some foreign matter being transferred to the plate by this means. The plate being quite dry is to be finished by carefully polishing it with a perfectly new

and clean wash-leather, which renders it fit for the second operation.

Spreading the film of collodion.-Several ways have been suggested to accomplish this with certainty and ease; some operators supporting the plate on the tips of the fingers of the left hand, while the collodion is poured on to it by the right; others, again, holding the plate by one corner, between the thumb and fore-finger: this latter plan is considerably the better of the two; but by far the neatest manner of coating the plate is by means of the pneumatic plate holder, fig. 1. This simple in

C

Fig. 1.

strument consists of a body of wood, shaped like a dumb-bell, having a hole passing through its length; the upper part is furnished with an air-tight covering of vulcanised India-rubber (a), the lower or opposite end is covered tightly with a piece of ordinary caoutchouc (B). The method of using this elegant little apparatus will be at once understood by reference to the engraving. The plate of glass (C) being held in the left hand, or placed flat on the table, the first and second finger of the right hand are made to pass under the top, while the right thumb presses the flexible covering (a), in order to expel the air from the cavity immediately below it; while in this state, the lower end (B) is to be brought into contact with the glass plate (C), and gently pressed against it. On removing the thumb from the upper end, the India-rubber will have a tendency to resume its original condition; and in so doing will cause a vacuum to be formed between itself and the plate, the resulting pressure of the atmosphere on the surface of which will cause it to adhere very firmly indeed to the holder, enabling

ΑΓ

D

E

the operator to perform the task of spreading the film in a most easy and efficient manner. The plate being held in the left hand, the collodion is to be poured on in good quantity, at a part a little removed from the centre; then, by tilting or slightly inclining the plate first in one direction, and then in another, it is made to flow into all the corners; and on arrival at the last, the superfluous quantity is returned to the bottle, the plate must now have a vibratory motion communicated to it, while still the corner, from which the collodion has been poured, remains in the mouth of the bottle. This will be found to correct the tendency which the collodion has to form streaks across the plate from corner to corner, and which would inevitably spoil the effect of any picture subsequently taken on the film. In order to be more explicit as to the manner of pouring on the collodion, we refer the reader to the following B C diagram, when he will at once perceive the modus operandi we have been describing. The collodion is poured on at about the point (B); the plate is now tilted Fig. 2. to the corner (c), then to (A), again to (D), and lastly to (E), whence the superfluous quantity is to be returned to the hottle, as before directed. The operator should lose no time in spreading the film, owing to the deterioration that is liable to take place in the collodion from the evaporation of the ether from an extended surface, at the same time it ought not to be performed hurriedly; in which case there is great chance of a loss of material, from its overflowing the edges of the glass plate. This latter mishap should be avoided, if possible, because the collodion, flowing on the back of the glass, will make a corresponding mark or blemish on the upper surface, or otherwise even film. The reason of this will appear, when we remember that evaporation of any kind produces cold, and ether, being a very volatile liquid, causes this effect in a high degree, thereby preventing, to a very great extent, the evaporation of the ether from the part of the film immediately above the streak that has accidentally passed to the underside of the glass plate.

Where we are operating upon large plates of glass, the pneumatic plate-holder will not be found sufficient to support the extra weight; we then have recourse to a very simple expedient for accomplishing the end, in the form of a plate-holder, as shown in the annexed

screw of metal moved by the handle (D),

D

B

Fig. 3.

which passes through, and moves freely round in the bar (a), which is further furnished with two guide-rods, for the purpose of keeping the moveable bar (B) parallel to it while in use. When in use, the plate is placed between the bars (a and B), and the screw being turned, causes the latter to be brought in close contact with the edge of the glass plate nearest to it, thereby holding it in a most firm manner; the collodion is to be poured on in the same way as before recommended, the plate being held through the medium of the last described instrument, in the left hand, by the handle (D).

The collodion film being properly spread, we arrive at the next stage of the process, namely, the immersion of the plate in the nitrate of silver bath, in order to render it sensitive to light. The solution of nitrate of silver for this bath, is composed according to the following formula:

Nitrate of silver in crystals, 30 grains.
Distilled water
Iodide of silver

warm

Oz.

2 grains.

This mixture must be allowed to rest for a few hours in a place, and must be filtered before use. The proportions given above are, as will be perceived, only for one ounce; the capacity of the gutta percha bath (fig. 4) will determine the quantity to be mixed at one time. For the instruction of the uninitiated, we may with advantage state the best way of making this solution, which will equally apply to all other cases as we proceed; the apparatus required being a pair of hand-scales, furnished with pans of glass, accurately ad

Fig. 4.

Fig. 5.

up to two drachms. A large glass measure, holding from 1 pint to a quart, carefully divided into ounces (fig. 6), which are read off from the scale on the right hand, will be found the

most useful vessel for

making the solution in, as we merely have to throw in the crystals from the scale-pan, and fill up, with distilled water, to the proper division on the scale of

ounces.

B

Fig. 6.

-40

36

32

-24

20

16

-12

E

The filtering process consists in passing the liquid through bibulous paper, the most ready and effectual manner of accomplishing which, is to fold a circular piece of the paper, of twice the diameter of the funnel in which it is to be placed, into four, and then opening it so that we may have a cone with one thickness of paper, forming one half, and the other consisting of a double fold. The mode of placing this cone of filter paper in the proper position for use, will be seen by referring to the diagram (fig. 7), where (A B) is a stand, with sliding rings to adjust the height of funnel, &c.; and (C) the funnel containing the filterpaper; the bottle receive the filtered solution, of course, being Fig 7. placed immediately under its neck.

to