Polytechnic Association Proceedings. 803 



these stirrups, the brass side up. On the center of this bar the 

 ball rests. The center rod is a piece of tubing, and runs into the 

 ball to hold it in position, but is not attached to it. The ball 

 •weighs three hundred pounds. The contraction of the iron rods 

 which would draw up the ball, are met by the greater contraction 

 of the brass letting it doAvn, and when the rods expand, the greater 

 expansion of the brass lifts it up — only it don't, or at least has not 

 done so yet. I run this clock from June 1, 1866, to February 1, 

 1867, without moving the hands; but after that, until settled warm 

 weather, I had to set it every week, although the variation never 

 exceeded thirty seconds. Last summer I could not seem to get a 

 steady, uniform gait on it, but it ran thi*ee months inside of fifteen 

 seconds. It runs very freely with a very light weight, and the 

 pendulum has not lost one vibration in over two years from any 

 cause. Wire rope of copper, one-fourth inch diameter, is used. All 

 the fittings are first class; there are no intricacies about it; every 

 part can be seen at a glance. The adaptation of wheel and 

 pinion is so near perfect that the point of contact or pitch line is 

 only about one-eighth inch wide, which, on wiping oflT the dust, 

 shows no sijjns of abrasion; it is not even brio-hteued on the main 

 wheel. The dials are six feet in diameter, and about fifteen feet 

 above the movement. 



I have a clock to wind in the Aldermen's Chamber; let us go in, 

 and while I am winding, you look about. Do you see that fine 

 fatherly looking man to yonv left, who stands leaning against his 

 horse ? Don't you think he looks pale, as if from loss of blood ? 

 Scrutinize him closely. Do you see that both his legs are cut off? 

 Do you see this empty panel, and that ? There stood John Jay, 

 and there Alexander Hamilton, both patriots, both men of the 

 times that tried men's souls. Alas'! both were cut in quarters by 

 the assassin's blade, and both taken away and laid, we know not 

 where. As we turn again to gaze on the man who never was born 

 to die by a bullet, we see, that although standing there for two 

 years, with both legs off, his countenance still bears a look of calm 

 resignation. Oh ! that those men with their long glasses, who are 

 spying out God-forsaken souls among the wilds and jungles of India, 

 would for once contract their horizon to the region of the City 

 Hall, and see, if among our free and enlightened citizens, they could 

 not spy out the man who cut the legs off the Father of his Countr3\ 



The new clock at St. George's, in Sixteenth street, I think, is the 

 simplest I ever saw or read of, and I feel certain that none have 



