“I hope I will be able to work right on to the close. I shouldn’t care to loaf.”
Shouldn’t care to loaf! What a thought after fifty-two years of such magnificent achievement.
THE WIZARD AT HOME.
While the inventions of Thomas A. Edison keep him constantly in the public eye, as a man in private life he is comparatively unknown. If you should see him in his laboratory, buried deep in work, surrounded by battalions of machines and hosts of experimental appliances, dressed in his “shop clothes” spotted with chemicals, you would never suspect that, just seven hundred feet away, a palatial home awaits him.
Ten years ago he was an undomesticated man. His workshop and his chemical laboratory held such powerful sway over his mind that he was only supremely happy when “up to his eyes” in work. Gradually, almost insidiously, the “wizard” has been weaned away from the weaving of his spells, and now a new and more potent power than ever before controlled him has gained its mastery over him. This is the power of love. Though the great inventor even now works as few men of his age and accomplishments are in the habit of doing, the last few years have seen a steady relaxation of his toil. The time has passed when he was wont to lock himself in a room and work sixty hours at a stretch without taking more than an hour’s sleep at various intervals in that time.
MRS. EDISON IS ALSO AN INVENTOR OF GOOD ABILITY.
When Mr. Edison toils now, there is one who shares his labors with him. It is Mrs. Edison, his second wife. She is the daughter of John Miller, who invented the famous Miller mowing machine, and inherits a great deal of inventive ability. It is through this additional bond of genius that they are united. She is a helpmeet in the true sense of the word. It is said that they are now working on an invention which they will patent jointly.
Whether Mrs. Edison intends to participate in one of her husband’s inventions or not, she takes more than passing interest in all of his affairs, and has acquired, through her association with him, a vast amount of electrical and mechanical knowledge. When Mr. Edison met Miss Miller, twelve years ago, he was at the beginning of his fame. It was one of the most intensely busy periods of his career, his work engaging nearly every moment of his time.
The days of complete absorption in work have passed for him. His home-life has become necessary to him. Though he has had one or two relapses of “working fever,”—when he steadfastly refused to be moved from the laboratory by Mrs. Edison’s persuasions—he has reached the period when he is glad to go to his home. Much honor is due to the woman who has wrought so marvelous a change in her husband. Those who knew Mr. Edison best predicted that his present wife would soon become a secondary consideration in his life. They are, from all accounts, mistaken.
The Edison home is one of the finest residences in New Jersey, and is furnished with all the conveniences and luxuries of a modern palace. It bears evidence of Mrs. Edison’s true taste and skillful management. The lower floor of the house is laid out in parlors, conservatories, and a magnificent dining room. Ponderous chandeliers bristling with electric-light bulbs hang from ceilings finished in open-work beams, exhibiting the best art of the builder. Mr. Edison has a fine library in his residence, though it does not contain so many scientific works as the library at his laboratory.
The upper floors are given up to sleeping rooms, and a special “den” for Mr. Edison. There he works out his plans, and has at hand the reference books he desires in chemistry, physics, heat, light, and electricity.
RISES EARLY AND WORKS LONG.
He is an early riser, and is ready for work at half-past six o’clock. His first daily occupation is to read the newspapers. He is anxious to know if the reporters who interviewed him wrote just what he said, for he dislikes, above all else, newspaper interviews that are not correct. He does not like to be misquoted, and is willing to go to any amount of trouble in order that his statements shall be reported without error. No matter how busily he may be engaged at the laboratory he will stop to look over an interview, and no one is more willing than he is to set a reporter right.
At half-past seven in the morning Mr. Edison starts for the laboratory. He usually walks, as the distance is short, and his physicians have ordered that he must take a certain amount of physical exercise every day. When he reaches the laboratory, he begins with a great rush, and starts men on certain phases of work which he planned the previous day. He usually has from fifty to seventy-five subjects on which he puts men to work. These subjects he prepares at home, between the time when he leaves the laboratory, half-past six, and midnight.
Every afternoon Mrs. Edison calls for her husband at the laboratory, and takes him away in her carriage, and they drive about the beautiful district of the Oranges.
Mrs. Edison has undertaken the task of keeping the inventor healthy. She will not permit him to neglect his meals, or to work more than she thinks is good for him. She insists that he shall leave the laboratory at a certain hour each night, and she undertakes to personally see that he does so. At times, Mr. Edison objects, but in a very mild way, to this régime. Not long ago, he was deeply engaged in a certain experiment, when Mrs. Edison called for him and insisted upon taking him home. After some resistance, he at last consented, saying, however, by way of a final protest, as he stepped into the carriage:—
“Billy” (his pet name for Mrs. Edison), “you’re a nuisance.”
Were it not, however, for the saving influence which Mrs. Edison exercises over her husband, it is doubtful if he would accomplish so much.
II
A “Down-east” Yankee who Dictates Peace to the Nations.
HIRAM STEVENS MAXIM is a gunmaker and peacemaker, and to-day the terms are synonymous.
Two armed men, although hostile, will hesitate to attack one another; each will be careful to make no false move, lest the other’s hand fly to his pistol pocket. Neither knows the other’s equipment for aggression or defense. So both will smile and smile, and continue to hate.
It is often thus with nations.
When I asked Mr. Maxim how one feels to be in the business of making machines of war—machines for killing men by the brigade, so to speak, he replied:—
“Men of my profession do more to keep peace on earth than all the churches of Christendom. They beg for peace—we compel it.”
Almost all famous men have two sides; the one is seen by the world, which never really sees the man at all, and is cold and glazed and more or less characterless—being wholly intellectual. The other is the warm human side, full of points of strength and lovable weaknesses.
THE MAN WHOSE GUNS WILL CLEAR A JUNGLE.
Hiram S. Maxim is of this type. Mention his name to your neighbor, and he will say: “Oh, yes! Maxim—he’s the inventor of the rapid-fire gun, the flying machine, and smokeless powder, and a lot of other things.” That’s all he knows about him, and, very likely, it’s all he cares. But the name Maxim is of tremendous import to every nation in the world; it is liable to have a potential influence in changing