nouncement was expected that it was completed, or at least only required the final finishing touches. Suddenly a telegram arrived—an ominous thing. Was it to announce an imperfect figure? This would be a most annoying thing, for it would require the whole to be reground and repolished. But no, it was very brief, but it announced a terrible misfortune. It was a pressing request to come down at once. The whole speculum had hurst into a thousand pieces.
It was a terrible blow, for it was the very misfortune which had been prognosticated by the English manufacturers and by the greater number of astronomers, including those who had had much experience in the construction and use of specula. The explosion had been terrific. The whole workshop was covered with jagged, torn masses of glass, varying in weight from ten or twelve pounds to an impalpable dust. Mr. Calver had had a narrow escape, but he and his workmen escaped without serious injury. The monetary loss was great, and bade fair to be greater, for with the loss of the speculum the rest of the telescope became useless. It might well seem that they were right who held the view that large silver-on-glass specula were impracticable, as from the difficulty in annealing large masses of glass they might be expected to break at any moment.
Within an hour or two of receiving the telegram announcing this terrible mishap Mr. Common was in the library of the Royal Astronomical Society. While there he was met by a friend, a fellow astronomer, who, being aware that news was daily expected of the completion of the great speculum, asked him for the latest intelligence. Mr. Common calmly handed him the fateful telegram. He was thunderstruck, for it was so unexpected, and he was one of those who had looked for much gain to astronomy to accrue from the construction and subsequent employment of this grand new instrument. After expressing, no doubt imperfectly enough, his sorrow, sympathy, and disappointment, he naturally put the question, "What can you do now?" The answer came gently enough: "Do? Why, I have telegraphed over to Paris to see if I can't get two more disks of glass. It will be one to spare in case of another explosion."
Success must crown indomitable courage like this. The new disks arrived, and were duly transferred to Mr. Calver. One was selected, and, after much labor, ground, polished, and finished. The remaining portion of the instrument and the observatory were pushed on as quickly as possible. On August 1, 1879, the instrument was complete, and the grandest and most powerful telescope in existence stood finished before its maker, designer, and owner.
An instrument of this large aperture will take a long time to thoroughly test, but it has stood triumphantly all the tests which have been applied hitherto. It has been tested on the moon, a most crucial test in experienced hands, on Jupiter and Saturn, and on faint companions to bright stars. In all cases satisfactory results have been
