|
extracted from Collier's Weekly, February 19, 1901
from
EarlyRadioHistory Website
EDITOR'S NOTE
Nikola Tesla has accomplished some marvelous results in electrical discoveries. Now, with the dawn of the new century, he announces an achievement which will amaze the entire universe, and which eclipses the wildest dream of the most visionary scientist. He has received communication, he asserts, from out the great void of space: a call from the inhabitants of Mars, or Venus, or some other sister planet! And, furthermore, noted scientists like Sir Norman Lockyer are disposed to agree with Mr. Tesla in his startling deductions.
By means of this principle he expects to be able to send messages under the ocean, and to any distance on the earth's surface. Interplanetary communication has interested him for years, and he sees no reason why we should not soon be within talking distance of Mars or of all worlds in the solar system that may be tenanted by intelligent beings.
THE IDEA of communicating with the inhabitants of other worlds is an old one. But for ages it has been regarded merely as a poet's dream, forever unrealizable. And with the invention and perfection of the telescope and the ever-widening knowledge of the heavens, its hold upon our imaginations has been increased, and the scientific achievements during the latter part of the nineteenth century, together with the development of the tendency toward the nature ideal of Goethe, have intensified it to such a degree that it seems as if it were destined to become the dominating idea of the century that has just begun.
The desire to know something of our neighbors in the immense depths of space does not spring from idle curiosity nor from thirst for knowledge, but from a deeper cause, and it is a feeling firmly rooted in the heart of every human being capable of thinking at all.
Whence, then, does
it come? Who knows? Who can assign limits to the subtlety of
nature's influences? Perhaps, if we could clearly perceive all the
intricate mechanism of the glorious spectacle that is continually
unfolding before us, and could, also, trace this desire to its
distant origin, we might find it in the sorrowful vibrations of the
earth which began when it parted from its celestial parent.
My idea is that
the development of life must lead to forms of existence that will be
possible without nourishment and which will not be shackled by
consequent limitations. Why should a living being not be able to
obtain all the energy it needs for the performance of its life
functions from the environment, instead of through
consumption of food, and transforming, by a complicated process, the
energy of chemical combinations into life-sustaining energy?
I will readily admit, of course, that if there should be a sudden catastrophe of any kind all life processes might be arrested; but if the change, no matter how great, should be gradual, and occupied ages, so that the ultimate results could be intelligently foreseen, I cannot but think that reasoning beings would still find means of existence. They would adapt themselves to their constantly changing environment.
So
I think it quite possible that in a frozen planet, such as our moon
is supposed to be, intelligent beings may still dwell,
in its interior, if not on its surface.
True, waves of light, owing to their immense rapidity of succession, can penetrate space more readily than waves less rapid, but a simple consideration will show that by their means an exchange of signals between this earth and its companions in the solar system is, at least now, impossible.
By way of illustration, let us suppose that a square mile of the earth's surface--the smallest area that might possibly be within reach of the best telescopic vision of other worlds--were covered with incandescent lamps, packed closely together so as to form, when illuminated, a continuous sheet of light.
It would require not less than one hundred million horse-power to light this area of lamps, and this is many times the amount of motive power now in the service of man throughout the world.
But with the novel
means, proposed by myself, I can readily demonstrate that, with an
expenditure not exceeding two thousand horse-power, signals
can be transmitted to a planet such as Mars with as much
exactness and certitude as we now send messages by wire from New
York to Philadelphia. These means are the result of long-continued
experiment and gradual improvement.
This work consumed a number of years, but I finally vanquished all difficulties and succeeded in producing a machine which, to explain its operation in plain language, resembled a pump in its action, drawing electricity from the earth and driving it back into the same at an enormous rate, thus creating ripples or disturbances which, spreading through the earth as through a wire, could be detected at great distances by carefully attuned receiving circuits.
In this manner I was able to transmit to a distance, not only feeble effects for the purposes of signaling, but considerable amounts of energy, and later discoveries I made convinced me that I shall ultimately succeed in conveying power without wires, for industrial purposes, with high economy, and to any distance, however great.
EXPERIMENTS IN COLORADO
A few years ago it was virtually impossible to
produce electrical sparks twenty or thirty foot long; but I produced
some more than one hundred feet in length, and this without
difficulty. The rates of electrical movement involved in strong
induction apparatus had measured but a few hundred horse-power, and
I produced electrical movements of rates of one hundred and ten
thousand horse-power. Prior to this, only insignificant electrical
pressures were obtained, while I have reached fifty million volts.
A machine such
as I have used could easily kill, in an instant, three hundred
thousand persons. I observed that the strain upon my assistants was
telling, and some of them could not endure the extreme tension of
the nerves. But these perils are now entirely overcome, and the
operation of such apparatus, however powerful, involves no risk
whatever.
I had perfected the apparatus referred to so far
that from my laboratory in the Colorado mountains I
could feel the pulse of the globe, as it were, noting every
electrical change that occurred within a radius of eleven hundred
miles.
My first
observations positively terrified me, as there was present in them
something mysterious, not to say supernatural, and I was alone in my
laboratory at night; but at that time the idea of these disturbances
being intelligently controlled signals did not yet present itself to
me.
The nature of my experiments precluded the possibility of the changes being produced by atmospheric disturbances, as has been rashly asserted by some. It was some time afterward when the thought flashed upon my mind that the disturbances I had observed might be due to an intelligent control.
Although I could not decipher their meaning, it was impossible for
me to think of them as having been entirely accidental. The feeling
is constantly growing on me that I had been the first to hear
the greeting of one planet to another. A purpose was behind
these electrical signals; and it was with this conviction
that I announced to the Red Cross Society, when it
asked me to indicate one of the great possible achievements of the
next hundred years, that it would probably be the confirmation and
interpretation of this planetary challenge to us.
I am constantly endeavoring to improve and perfect my apparatus, and
just as soon as practicable I shall again take up the thread of my
investigations at the point where I have been forced to lay it down
for a time.
Absolute certitude as to the receipt and interchange of
messages would be reached as soon as we could respond with the
number "four," say, in reply to the signal "one, two, three." The
Martians, or the inhabitants of whatever planet had
signaled to us, would understand at once that we had caught their
message across the gulf of space and had sent back a response. To
convey a knowledge of form by such means is, while very difficult,
not impossible, and I have already found a way of doing it.
|