# Littell's Living Age/Volume 130/Issue 1676/The Remington Type-Writing Machine

From Nature.
THE REMINGTON TYPE-WRITING MACHINE.
In making comparison between the physical and the biological sciences, it is not difficult to recognize how it comes that they differ in one essential element. In the physical the forces in action are comparatively few, and of very different degrees of intensity. The centripetal and centrifugal tendencies, for instance, of moons and planets so far exceed the mutual attractions of the planets inter sese, that in the rough calculation of their orbits the latter may be omitted from consideration.
In the study of the phenomena of life, however, the innumerable forces which are found to be in play are so fairly balanced in their magnitude and tendencies, that the task of dissociating and classifying them is almost beyond the means at the disposal of the human mind.
In the study of the various machines which have from time to time been constructed with the purpose of economizing or superseding the employment of the engine muscle, — expensive in the nature of the fuel it requires, although it is so economical in the way in which it uses it, — a similar division may be made. In the steam-engine, however developed, the waste of force essential to the working of the valves is nothing in comparison to the power employed, nor in the telegraphic needle is much done by the current except the actual record which it makes.
But on looking at the. sewing-machine or the more novel type-printing apparatus we can see that the ingenuity of America, stimulated by the idea of practical advantage, has been developed in a direction, not towards the discovery of more economic principles, but to the employment of forces already known in the mastery of complicated operations previously thought to be beyond the powers of any other mechanism than the hand of man. To obtain these results an entirely different conception has to be introduced. The power at the disposal of the operator has not to be directed simply to the performance of’ a single operation, like the movement of the needle in the sewing-machine or the impressing of the letter in the type-writer, but has to be distributed so that it may perform a series of simultaneous operations, all leading to a complicated result. The treadle of the sewing-machine in its movement, besides the rise and fall of the needle which it produces, works the thread loop-slip, shifts the fabric, and unwinds the cotton. The pressure on any one of the keys of the type-writer besides the impression which it stamps upon the paper, shifts that paper, inks the type, and places each letter in its proper sequence.
In order properly to balance all these varied actions, great ingenuity and much practical experiment are necessary, and of the "Remington type-writer," the only satisfactory instrument of the kind yet brought to public notice, the introducers, the most prominent of whom is Mr. Jefferson M. Clough, superintendent of the Remington armory, tells us that "during the time required to perfect the invention, about fifty machines were constructed, all upon the same general principle, but each differing more or less in the minor details."
The general principle is a most ingenious one. It is evident that the great difficulty in the construction of such an instrument is that it is necessary to have a large number of signs — letters of the alphabet, figures, stops; etc., arranged in such a manner that any one of them, may, by the simple pressure on a corresponding key-note, be printed in any required order or sequence upon a paper sheet placed ready to receive it. There are many more or less elaborate ways in which this may be accomplished; none, we believe, so simple as that adopted by the Messrs. Remington. Their apparatus may be compared to a piano, even in its details. There is a keyboard, on each key of which the letter it impresses is to be found indicated. The depression of each key raises a hammer. This hammer, however, instead of being covered with a felted pad, as in the piano, carries at its extremity a type-cast letter, which, in place of a stretched wire, strikes on a piece of paper the impression of the letter which it bears. So far the similarity between the two instruments is very close. But to produce sounds and to perpetuate impressions in black and white in any definite sequence, are two very different things, the latter being much the more difficult and herein lies the ingenuity of the principle adopted in the type-writer. The hammers, instead of being arranged in one line, as in the piano, form a circle, ​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?