Figure 25. — Lukens's lithontriptor, 1825. The instrument with wires (shown 

 dotted) for crushing bladder stones was inserted through tube b and mani- 

 pulated externally by handle A. After British patent 5255, September 15, 

 1825. The instrument was patented also in the United States, December 30, 

 1826. 



9 inches long by 3^ inches wide, the cross-head 

 having a travel on it of 5 inches, and the tool-carrying 

 block or head a traverse of 2% inches. These meas- 

 urements are not given from recollection, but from 

 a Lukens slide-rest now by me, that has been in 

 my possession over sixty years, and in use most of 

 that time. It is in good condition now. It is not 

 like the boy's old knife, that first had a new blade 

 and then a new handle: for the bed-plate, with its 

 screw and traveling-head, are as originally made. 

 The tool-carrying cross-moving head was of brass, 

 and wore out bv clamping in the turning tools. 

 I renewed this with cast iron, but in every respect 

 like the original. 



It affords me great pleasure to give a history of 

 this old slide-rest, as it enables me to pay my tribute 

 to one of the greatest of our pioneer mechanics, 

 who was emphatically the young beginner's best 

 friend, and a sound mechanic to the core. He was 

 a bachelor, of rather eccentric habits. He lived in 

 his shop, sleeping in an adjoining room, taking his 

 meals at an old hostelry on Market Street, largely 

 frequented by the farmers of Chester and Lancaster 

 counties, where he would meet his friends and 

 relations from the country. He was naturally of a 

 social disposition, although an impediment in his 

 speech made him appear shy and dilhdent in ladies' 

 society. He called his shop his wife, and he really 

 loved it. He also loved his old grey horse that he 

 kept at the stables of the Market Street tavern, and 

 either in the morning before '"sun up," or on moon- 

 light evenings he would have him hitched to his 

 yellow two-wheel top gig and take lonely rides, 



unless he chanced on some boy to whom he had 

 taken a liking, then he would claim him for company. 

 He always took a summer vacation of from six to 

 eight weeks. At these times he would lock up his 

 shop, and with his fishing tackle, mineral hammer, 

 and change of clothes in his gig box, his trusty air-gun 

 by his side, he would drive off on his solitary ex- 

 cursions, never hinting to his most intimate friends 

 what course he would take. I doubt if he knew 

 himself: but he was free to be guided by circumstances. 

 There is scarce a point of interest to the mineralogist 

 in northern Xew Jersey, eastern and middle Penn- 

 sylvania, that he did not visit, even extending his 

 lonely drives as far south as Washington.™ 



Lukens lost an eye from a chip of steel when dressing 

 a grindstone. Up to that time he was certainly the 

 finest workman in Philadelphia, but afterwards he 

 was fearful of trying his remaining eye on very fine 

 work. 81 He took an assistant — I cannot say as to an 



8 » In 1822, Lukens brought back from the Catskills a live 

 rattlesnake, which he presented to Charles Willson Pealt foi 

 his Philadelphia Museum (Charles Coleman Sellers, 

 "Portraits and Miniatures by Charles Willson Peale," Trans- 

 actions of Ike American Philosophical Society, June 1952, vol. 42. 

 pt. 1, p. 132). 



81 Writing to his younger brother Coleman on May 4. 1895, 

 1 1 years after this article was written, George Escol gave this 

 slightly altered version: "Lukens was never the fine and accu- 

 rate workman that Rufus Tyler and Wm. Mason were— but 

 for speed he far outdid them." However, Lukens was eng 

 in an essentially different class of work from that of Mason and 

 Tyler. In the same letter Sellers wrote of Lukens: " . . . for 

 bushings and fiat surfaces, escapements, pallets and such like 

 his favourite tool was a soft metal lap wheel and grinding with 



55 



