A very plain-looking man standing by said: "Friend 

 Redheffer, I think thee gave it a little starting push." 



"Not the least," was the reply. "Watch me, I will 

 show it again." This time with one hand he held 

 the carriage in check, while with the other he placed 

 the weight on the incline; when he loosed his hold 

 on the weight, simultaneously removing the hand 

 that held the carriage in check; it was evident to all 

 close watchers that the weight slid down the incline a 

 short distance to its stop. 



"I see," said the plain inquisitive man, "that thee 

 did not give it a push, but thee let the weight slide 

 enough to start the carriage; but, see, it did not run 

 as far as the first time. Now, Friend Redheffer, 

 when I load my wheelbarrow with rock it takes all 

 my strength to start it. but when started I can trundle 

 it along with ease. This starting the scholars call 

 overcoming the inertia; but I am no scholar, I only 

 know what I see or feel; but it does seem to me that 

 if thy weight loaded on the slant exerts a power 

 sufficient to start the carriage to overcome the inertia, 

 and that power is, as thee asserts, constant, the 

 carriage, instead of stopping, should increase in 

 speed, and go on running forever." 



"And it would," said Redheffer, "if it were not for 

 the friction and the resistance of the air; these, you 

 see by my machine running, I have overcome," 

 pointing to the machine, which most certainly was 

 running, and apparently exerting some force. 



The plain inquisitive fellow seemed to have ruffled 

 Redheffer so much that most of his attention was given 

 to him, either to convince or to get rid of him. He 

 said to him: "I think I have here what will convince 

 you that a fixed weight in the position I place them 

 on my carriages will exert a constant pressure in that 

 direction that will and does force the carriage ahead, 

 and if friction and all other obstructions are eliminated 

 its onward course would be perpetual, as you see it 

 does in my working machine. Here I have this cast- 

 iron cannon suspended by its muzzle by this short free 

 link chain" (the cannon was one of those stubby can- 

 non used on merchant ships as signal guns). "Now," 

 said Redheffer, "put your feet against this cleat on the 

 floor, take hold of the butt ball of the cannon, and 

 pull it to about the angle I have my weights on the 

 carriages, and tell me if it does not maintain a con- 

 stant pull, and does not grow lighter." 



Very soon the man said: "No, I really think it grows 

 heavier, and pulls harder; but Mr. Redheffer, thee 

 ought to have a great steelyard and suspend the can- 

 non on that, then thee could show if any of the direct 



down pull or gravity was lost or changed by pulling 

 the cannon out of the perpendicular." 



"That is a capital thought," said Redheffer, "for if 

 there is any loss it would show what I gain by the 

 angle I load the weight on my carriages." 



There was much more of this kind of badinage 

 between the plain, simple-minded engineer and 

 Redheffer. I have told this as a continuous story, 

 only intended to convey the general substance; part 

 is from recollection, but probably more from conversa- 

 tions with my father in later years. 



A conversation between him and my grandfather, 

 after we left Redheffer's exhibition, made a lasting 

 impression. Grandfather asked father if he did not 

 think it a bold thing, and a capital piece of acting 

 in Owen, to play the ignorant inquisitor. My 

 father asked what Owen? The reply was: the fine 

 Welsh machinist and clockmaker that worked with 

 David Rittenhouse until his death, and has pursued 

 clockmaking ever since. My grandfather then said 

 before going into the show he had recognized him 

 by his voice, and that was totally changed after 

 entering the building; he had watched him closely 

 without discovering the least halt or change in his 

 assumed character; since coming out he found Owen 

 hugely enjoying his successful joke, which, he says, 

 he did not undertake with an intention of exposing 

 Redheffer, but only for a little quiet fun. He showed 

 a couple of English silver shillings so bent and shaped 

 that one was so placed in his mouth as to depress 

 the corner, and prevent the play of the muscles about 

 the corner that are so expressive of character; the 

 other was used to modulate his voice and enable 

 him to keep up his assumed character; the only other 

 disguise was the Sunday suit borrowed from Mr. 

 Peale's Scotch gardener — the knit cap, broad collar, 

 square cut, short-waisted coat, and loose trousers 

 covering his ordinary breeches, and silk stockings, 

 and a pair of dirty brogans completed his disguise. 



After this long digression I will now try to describe 

 the Redheffer machine, as exhibited. The foundation 

 of the structure was a trap rock boulder, hollowed out 

 on top sufficiently to form a step-box for an upright 

 shaft. As near as I can recollect, this shaft was some 

 10 or 12 feet long or high; it was made of wood, say 

 about 12 inches diameter, and octagonal; its step and 

 journals ordinary cast-iron wing gudgeons, the lower 

 one resting in the rock step-box, the upper journal by 

 strap-box to a cross-beam. This shaft was free to 

 revolve, and so arranged with the stone step-box, and 

 open strap-box on the upper end, that no power could 



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