in the exact centre of which each type-letter at the end of its hammer-lever strikes upwards. Two keys struck at the same time must consequently cause two type-letters to clash in their attempt to reach the same spot, the centre of the circle. This, however, does no injury to the instrument, although care must be taken not to cause it. Above the circle of levers the recording paper is situated, rolling on a drum, towards the operator, the whole being so placed that just before any letter of a word is struck that part of the paper on which the letter has to be impressed is nearly over the middle of the lever-circle. The depression of the key first moves the paper into the exact position and then prints the letter, figure, or stop. An independent key produces the blank between each two words.
The method of inking is excellent and unexpected. A strip of fine fabric, saturated with the ink, is carried between two rollers so arranged that it intervenes between the paper to be printed on and the centre of the lever-circle. The type-carrying hammers do not, therefore, strike the paper itself at all, but only the ink-saturated band, which, as a result of the percussion, comes in contact with the recording paper, but only in the parts where contact is made, which are nothing more nor less than those corresponding to the configuration of the letter or figure employed. There is a simple shifting apparatus to carry this inking band from one roller to the other, and afterwards back again, which prevents the same part from being struck too often.
A side lever shifts the paper at the end of each line, and a small bell is struck to warn the operator when this has to be employed.
Into further detail we need scarcely enter. The whole instrument is not larger than a sewing-machine. Its cost is twenty guineas. It only writes in capitals, the total number of keys being forty-four, arranged in four rows of eleven in each. Its simplicity is the best guarantee of its durability.
As to the "typoscript" (in contradistinction to the manuscript of ordinary handwriting), there is no comparison between its clearness and that of average penmanship. It has, in fact, all the appearances of print, with its many advantages as regards legibility, compactness, and neatness. Errors, if detected soon enough, can be corrected by the repetition of the word or sentence, and the subsequent obliteration, upon reperusal, of the faulty lines. The ink employed can be transferred like transfer ink.
The principal question which this beautiful and ingenious little instrument suggests to our minds is, whether it would not be better for every one of us to learn the Morse telegraph language, and employ it for writing upon all occasions instead of the cumbrous letters now in vogue. Thought is more quick than formerly. Germany is rapidly rejecting its archaic type; why should we not go further and write in Morse, where spots and horozontal lines do duty for all necessary signs, and type-writers of the simplest form would be required?
PHYSICAL INFLUENCES UPON CHARACTER.
The influence of physical comforts upon us is far more considerable than we think, or would like it to be thought, perhaps. Let the most prayerful mind be ever so bent upon service to its Maker, its litany, its confessions of wrong-doing, and yet, in the very midst of its devoutest desires for amendment, the chilling frost of an uncongenial place or posture will nip the stoutest protestations in the bud. Temporal inconvenience, in nine cases out of ten, assuredly takes the upper hand where spiritual prostration essays to acknowledge itself. However devotional the character of our mind, however we may make the best intentions to “observe a lively faith in God’s Holy Word,” not to let it sink into mere hebdomadary letter-worship, clogged by the constant round of repetition, yet, should hard-backed seats beset us, should it unfortunately chance that a preacher’s voice is droning or monotonous, these will, spite of an earnest endeavour to fix the attention, more or less affect our thoughts, and otherwise dispose of them. Even the flicker of an elusive sunbeam, or dazzling fugitive mote, will have more influence in unsettling the mind of a would-be conscientious listener than any moral truth that is being poured out before him, and to which he would fain persuade himself to attend. Among the lower classes, how very often it is to be remarked that physical comforts are more effectual in softening their character than the wisest words or the most judiciously-selected tracts. What, say they, is the use of trying to cure our souls, to ask us if we are true Christians, when our children are
